Having Two Legs

Friday, January 07, 2005

Charles Williams

"Love you? I am you."

-cited by C.S. Lewis in The Four Loves

Communion of the Saints Part 2

The communion of saints is diachronic. Not only do we commune with the saints in China and England and South America, but commune with them through time. The same Spirit that unites peoples of different places, unites peoples of different eras. This is manifestly true by virtue of time zones, but the writer of Hebrews goes further, “But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are registered in heaven, to God the Judge of all, to the spirits of just men made perfect” (12:22-23). Our communion with the saints is with the saints who are presently alive and with those saints who have died in the faith. In fact this reality is the grounds for the exhortation at the beginning of the chapter to “lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us”. Why are we to run this race with patience? Because “we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses”. Who are those witnesses? They are all of the saints that have died in the faith, many of whom are mentioned by name or deed in Chapter 11.

For this reason, following the historic church, it is proper for the deeds and saints of the past to be remembered in stories, songs, and pictures. In these ways, particularly as they appear in the Church building, we are reminded constantly of that cloud of witnesses of which we are a part. Furthermore, remembering particular saints on particular days through songs, prayers, and other traditions is also a fitting reminder of the communion we have with all of the saints of God.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Moses Was A Mountain Climber

Moses was a mountain climber. He climbed the Arabian height and made his way back down holding large pieces of engraved stone. He climbed a number of times, perhaps trying different routes. Out of breath, out of sight, he was there for days. For days alone on a crag splitting heaven open wide, its glories spilling out onto the lone climber. He returned on one occasion with a glory soaked face.

Everything is a mountain to my son, everything an ascent. He’s lying down reaching, rolling, drooling. Arms flail, fingers flayed, he tips a red, plastic object at the horizon of his vision. It’s gone. He turns, he groans. Where’s the next hold? He arches his back and twists. His arms and legs go taught. I pull him up by his arms and encourage him. He’s doing very well. Trust your legs, I say. His head wobbles. He’s getting tired. He reaches for my face. He smiles briefly, and his knees give way.

There’s a girl behind the counter. She sells equipment. In a clearing by the keyboard there’s a book on Mt. Rainier. Are you thinking of climbing, we ask her. She nods vigorously and says she’s longed to do the climb alone. My friend encourages her to have someone go along with her. He’s climbed Rainier. She insists that she prefers the solitude and enjoys the personal competition it inspires.

Jesus was a mountain climber and trained his disciples in the skill. The devil drove him to a great height and showed him the kingdoms of the world. Sometimes he climbed mountains to be alone, to rid himself of the multitudes who hounded him. Sometimes he climbed to teach: a couple times he fed the crowds. After having climbed and praying for most of a night, he was betrayed by a friend and arrested on the mountain top. Once he climbed to die.

I’ve never been outside. I’ve never climbed in the wild. All my climbs have been prepackaged inside a large building. I am my son on the floor. A climbing wall is designed to simulate, but its face is layered with many options, many routes. There are huge ‘bomber’ hold routes were the wall all but pulls you to the top. There are tiny squares of block bolted down with pointy edges made for finger tips of steel. Far up, my legs shake; my fingers scream. They refuse to work; they refuse to hold. I throw my arms like grappling hooks against the wall, praying that they’ll find some edge to hold. Gasping, shaking, my eyes peer over the top.

My son bounces. It’s a cross between energy and lack of strength. He has enough energy to climb anything, but he hasn’t smoothed out communication yet with his legs. They do his bidding maybe half the time. So he bounces. He bounces holding to the top of the chest. He stretches, pushing with his feet. His hand flings out lightly, groping for a hold. It finds a suitable edge. He makes it look easy. He bounces, tilting, looking up at me. Then his head veers down to his hold. His gums gnaw the edge of the chest, and he eyes me casually, assuring me that this is part of the plan. This is the route he has chosen.

Moses and Aaron died on mountain tops. They climbed their last ascents with sweat in their eyes. Aaron gave his priestly garments to his son on Mount Hor and there he died, in thin air, watching the world below. From the peak of Pisgah, Moses saw the promised land stretching out and meeting heaven. But where he’s buried no one knows, hid in a valley. When he wakes up there’ll be climbing to do.

The Church is a mountain called Zion. We were a rock made without hands. But we were flung into a statue and grew up. There was another mountain, but it fell into the sea. We are mountains climbing mountains. We are an entire range. We go piggyback on the ones who came before, and others will come after us. We are alone and together. We’re grasping at the peak; we’re rolling on the floor. We are hanging by a finger tip; our roots are beneath the sea. Everything’s a mountain to us. We’re bouncing, and we’re holding on. And heaven spills out onto our faces.

Ivan Eve

I wrote this at Christmas and meant to post it sooner, but well... here it is.

It’s 6,758 miles from here to Jerusalem. It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m listening to Dido while my 6-month-old son cries in the monitor on the counter. The tree next to me is gawking; it sits in the corner spilling out into the rest of the room like an adolescent with outgrown clothes, lanky arms and legs, knobby knees and elbows thrust out. It was cut down in central Washington by the owners of this house. Many children live here. They decorated it with paper and shiny balls and colored lights.

That there are other people—billions of other people—astounds me. I am a toddler on the living room floor. I am the sun in my universe. You revolve around me. But the stories are going simultaneously, millions of stories and one story: millions of suns and one sun. My story is a boy in an intensive care unit miles from here. He’s coming home soon, maybe for Christmas. My son has fallen asleep. The dogs are on the floor laying sideways, legs out, snoring. It’s freezing outside. The cows, there are two of them, only want to be fed. And there is more, much more, and in addition, there are many more than mine. How can God be one of us, a boy in a cave, wrapped in rags years from here?

St. Ivan of Suchava was born in the thirteenth century near the Black Sea, in modern day Ukraine. Ivan was charged with conspiring against the Sultan Oman and the Islamic faith in general. He was summonsed to a trial, convicted, and sentenced to torture and execution. He was offered mercy if he was willing to renounce the Christian faith. Being unwilling, Ivan was dragged to his death by racing horses through the streets of Ackerman, a city located on the Delta of the Danube River on June 2, 1278. He was buried in a nearby churchyard, and in 1402 his body was removed and buried in a church in Suchava, the capitol of Bukovyna.

It’s Christmas morning. The sun still slumbers. The cows are looking for breakfast. Ivan is coming home. There’s a baby for Christmas. We open stockings and unwrap gifts; we stuff garbage bags full of our holiday litter. America celebrates a high Sabbath; no one works today, there’s nothing open except maybe a gas station. I read about brothers walking around the world, the first known circumambulation of the earth. One was shot and killed in Afghanistan. The other was wounded, but a third brother flew in and helped him finish the tour. This was in the late seventies because Ronald Reagan was governor of California and gave them commendations.

And regardless of what the song may say, the cattle are not lowing. I wonder what kind of cows low. Maybe cattle low but regular old Angus beef cows just eat and sleep. I haven’t heard a sound out of them for the last several days.

But here's to you Ivan, may the world be your sidewalk, may race horses be your friends, and may you continue to imitate the Christ, even as you have today.

Communion of the Saints Part 1

What do we mean when we confess that we believe in ‘the communion of saints’?

We believe that the communion of saints means that the Church is truly catholic or universal. The communion of saints occurs through the action of the Spirit which is present with all who gather in the name of the Triune God. This reality is tied particularly to the Lord’s Day and the Lord’s Supper or Holy Eucharist. The term ‘Lord’s Day’ is only used once in the New Testament in Revelation 1:10. St. John was “in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day”. However, the word for ‘Lord’s’ is used one other time in the New Testament in 1 Corinthians 11:20. There Paul says that the Corinthians do not come together to eat the ‘Lord’s’ Supper because of their bickering and infighting. Thus the meal of the Lord’s Supper is connected to the Lord's Day lexically by the word ‘Kuraikos’. (Incidentally, 'Kuraikos' is the Greek word from whence we get the old English word Kirk. Which, in turn, gave us the word Church.) The fact of the Lord's Supper which takes place on the Lord's Day is the means and proof that we are in communion even if we go to different churches. "The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? For we, though many, are one bread and one body; for we all partake of that one bread."

Therefore the Spirit is not only how we worship or the means by which we worship, He is also the location where we worship. This is how millions of Christians worship together communing with one another, giving glory to God. Though miles and continents apart we, by the working of the Holy Spirit, gather together in one place as one body, partaking of one loaf and one cup, feeding upon Christ.

Tyndale

The following quote comes from William Tyndale, English reformer, the first to put the entire Bible into English. Even if he's overstating his point, it kind of makes you glad to be on this side of the Reformation.

"The bishops therefore ought to bless us in preaching Christ and not to deceive us and bring the curse of God upon us with wagging their hands over us. To preach is their duty only and not to offer their feet to be kissed or testicles or stones to be groped." (P. 138)

The footnote mentions a popular story of the time of the legendary Pope Joan. She apparently tried to get by as a man. After that it was believed that all incumbent popes were tested for maleness. But of course Tyndale is not just referring to the Pope, he's talking about bishops in general.

Monday, December 27, 2004

Tsunami

A tsunami is reported to have killed thousands in southeast Asia. MSNBC reports that the death toll is at around 22,000 and climbing. A 9.0 magnitude earthquake several miles below the ocean surface, caused (apparently) by the shifting one of the earth's plates, sent tidal waves speeding across the Indian Ocean in a number of different directions. At least nine countries have reported deaths, but Sri Lanka, Indonesia, and India report deaths in the thousands.

This seems like something out of history, out of an old book, the Bible perhaps, from a long time ago at any rate. Don't we have scientists that study these things and warn us when they're about to happen? Don't we have 'teams of experts'? Mass graves of children, bodies-bloated and floating through the streets, and muslim men trying to find dry ground to bury their loved ones all contend otherwise. If a calamity befalls a city is it not the Lord who has done it?

The earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. We seldom realize what a violent proposition that could be for some. How do the waters cover the sea? Sometimes tsunamis send tens of thousands to their grave, mass baptisms, mini floods destroying all the sacred cows.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Deacon Ivan James

At around 8:15 this morning I became an uncle again. My nephew, Ivan, weighed in at around 8lbs 4oz. He, being male, was a bit sluggish upon exiting the womb and thus procured for himself a ride in an airplane at a mere 7 hours old. He's crafty like his dad, I say. At any rate, please rejoice with us at Ivan's birth, but do pray that Christmas would be on time. That is, pray that mom and baby would be vigorous enough to be released from the hospital soon.

Friday, December 17, 2004

Blood of the Covenant

The Old Covenant proceded through generations by blood. Fathers bore sons, sons bore grandsons, and the blood of Abraham ran in their veins. There were the commands, yes. There was the law. There was circumcision. There were the sacrifices. But we know that ultimately it was faith in the promises of God to Abraham and to his seed, his offspring born, he was explicitly told, from his own loins. The blood of Abraham was in an important sense the blood of the Old Covenant. Covenant succession was through this blood. Having lineage and descent from the patriarchs was God's pledge and promise to fulfill his covenant to every Israelite.

But in Christ an important change took place. The blood of the Old Covenant was spilled. Christ, being a descendent of Abraham, had within himself the blood of the Old Covenant. But that blood has been shed for all men. The blood of the New Covenant is the cup of blessing in the Eucharist. Thus the lineage and descent of the New Covenant is no less by blood. We are all blood relatives in the lineage of Christ as we drink in faith. The procession of the New Covenant is no less bloody, but it has been exported. No longer bound to one human body, it has been spilled, and it is now the Church that is the body with the blood of the covenant coursing through its veins. Covenant succession is through this blood, the blood of the new covenant, shed for many. Therefore, all of you, drink of it.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Luke's Genealogy of Christ

Luke begins his record in chapter 3 with Jesus and works backwards all the way to “Adam, the son of God”. Luke’s record gives us 77 names beginning with Jesus and ending with the ‘first father’ God himself. The number is of course significant indicating the fullness or completeness of Jesus twice over. Jesus is Son of God and Son of Man. The placement of the genealogy indicates this further. Luke records the lineage of Jesus right after Jesus’ baptism and right before his temptation in the wilderness. God declares of Jesus at his baptism, “You are my beloved Son; in You I am well pleased.” Then, to show how this is true also by physical descent, Luke traces his family back to God through Adam. Finally, it is also important to note that chapter 3 ends with ‘Adam, the son of God’ and chapter 4 begins with the temptation in the wilderness by the devil. Jesus is the new Adam being tempted by the devil.

Also, the movement from Trinity at the baptism backwards through history back to Adam in the garden and finally picking up again with Christ being tempted in the desert is spectacular. Luke puts the Trinity (in Christ) in the garden that has become a desert to be tempted. God does battle with the devil on our behalf and on behalf of all those generations that were between.

Saturday, December 11, 2004

Falling

Falling with form through the air
curled—back out, toes pointed,
glimmering—I’m inside, peering out.
The world is coming so fast.
An elevator unleashed.
And I, I lean back from the glass.
Steam rising from my cup,
aroma in flight, riding in a rain drop.

Monday, November 29, 2004

A Brother for Adam

Genesis 3 and 4 serve as an introduction to the book of Genesis as well as the rest of Scripture. Throughout the book of Genesis we read stories where the antithesis between the seed of the serpent and the seed of the woman plays itself out. This is the story of Cain and Abel. There is certainly much to be gleaned from this story, but one important principle is the antithesis that already shows up in Adam’s family. Sin brings enmity, and Cain kills Abel. But how will the seed continue? Will God’s promise become void? Abel seemed so faithful. But God is faithful and he gives Seth to Eve, giving her a younger son who will be blessed and will carry on the blessing of God instead of the older. Interestingly, this theme does not end here. The theme of struggle between older and younger brothers continues. Cain, Abel, and Seth; Shem, Ham, and Japheth; Ishmael and Isaac; Esau and Jacob; Joseph and his eleven brothers; Ephraim and Manasseh are all stories of the triumph and blessing of the younger brother. The antithesis is between offspring. There is enmity in the family line, but God continues to prove his promise sure by raising up younger brothers. There is story after story of the victory of the younger over the older and salvation from the younger brother. What does this mean?

If we think back on the fall, having outlined the rest of the book of Genesis as a complex collection of stories about the need for a faithful descendent and the struggle between younger and older brothers, we realize that there is something missing. God gave Seth to carry on the blessing when Cain murdered Abel. God raised up Jacob when it was clear that Esau would not be the bearer of God’s covenant blessing and promise. God gave Joseph to Jacob’s house when there was a famine, raising him to the highest place in the kingdom of Egypt. Having read all these stories (and the others) we ought to reach the end of the book of Genesis and realize that Adam needs a younger brother. These other younger brothers are small pictures, but there needs to be younger brother to Adam, a man who can stand in our place, like Adam, a man who could keep the covenant that Adam broke. But alas, Adam has no siblings. If we read the rest of the Genesis we see salvation coming from younger brothers and our immediate thought should be: If only Adam had a younger brother! And we would have to realize that this younger brother would have to be like Adam, having God for a father, because a physical father would carry Adam’s curse. But the man couldn’t be simply made from the ground again, because it too is cursed. Therefore, keeping his promise, God determined to bring forth Adam’s younger brother from the womb of a virgin. The Holy Spirit "overshadows" Mary, as He has once done in the beginnning, and brings forth a new man. Adam’s younger brother is the Lord Jesus Christ who was conceived like Adam without a natural father. In the mystery of God, the seed of the Woman is Adam’s little brother. Mary, in a glorious way, is the new ground from which the new Adam was formed. This is the glory of God and the wonder of Christmas that God not only created a new man, a brother for Adam, but that God himself became this man for us, God gave himself to be Adam’s younger brother, the seed of the woman who would bruise the head of the serpent.

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Genesis 3

Notice in Genesis 3 that the serpent is ‘Aroom’ which means crafty or prudent. After Adam and Eve eat of the tree they know they are ‘Aroomim’ which means naked. Surely this is a pun. The serpent said they would become like God, but they have actually become like the serpent.

Also, God is walking in the garden 'in the cool of the day' or (woodenly) ‘to the spirit in the day’. The word ‘spirit’ is often translated ‘cool’ or ‘breeze’ because it is ‘ruach’ meaning spirit or wind. However, in the context, the only other use of the word is in 1:2 where the ‘ruach’ of God hovers over the waters. It seems strange to have this referring to a time of day. Rather, like its first use, it is referring to a quality in God, or more specifically, the person of God that prepares to create. Now God is commencing a new creation, even as his creatures have fallen and sinned.

Thursday, November 11, 2004

The Incredibles

Perhaps the most incredible thing about the Incredibles is that fact that Disney allowed its name on the latest Pixar production. Not because the film was once again quite a bit better than anything Disney has produced in a while, although that is true. But the incredible thing is what the movie was all about.

Though not a laugh out loud comedy, The Incredibles was a genuinely enjoyable movie that tried to tell an interesting story. And perhaps the most interesting bit was the attempt at saying something somewhat unique. "If everyone is special no one is special". Coming out of the jaws of the egalitarian shrine of Disney that's pretty impressive. The good guys are trying to preserve inequality and the bad guy is an ungrateful kid who tried to be more than he was. His goal is now to level everyone so that no one can be special. But the super heroes win. Inequality reigns.

The moral of the story: be the very best you can be where ever you have been placed. If you're normal be the best normal person you can be. If you're super be the best super you can be. And even more important: be thankful. Be thankful that you are where you are and that other people are different. And some of them are even better than you at some things. That's true, and that's decent stuff.

Creation

It seems like the doctrine of Creation does a lot more than we give it credit for.

If God created everything and out of nothing, then we didn't. And if we didn't everything is grace. Everything comes to us a gift, undeserved favor in every nook and cranny. But this also means that salvation is necessarily a gift also. Not that we don't think that already. But we often put a lot of our effort into showing that we are unable to save ourselves (total depravity, irrisistable grace...) all that stuff. I'm of course in basic agreement with the point of it all. But it seems like Creation already affirms that nothing is ours to take credit for ultimately.

In the story of history we do things, we have things, we use things, and in so far as Creation is real, we really act, do, have, and use things. No problem. But in so far as God created it all, it's all from Him and for Him. We're not gnostics: faith has a body. But the body was created. So when it comes to salvation of course we're saved by grace and that not of ourselves: it was a gift. "Not of works so that no man can boast" seems like another way of saying... you didn't make yourself, silly.

Pelagianism and anyone else wanting to give some credit to man must be at their foundations creational heresies. A denial of sola gratia is an attempt at retelling the creation story. So also with every form of ingratitude. We'd have made it better, we grumble to ourselves.

This is why salvation is rightly described as re-creation.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Drama in the Lab

I'm teaching high school Chemistry this year, something for which I am utterly unqualified. I took Chemistry in high school. That's one credential. I remember some of it. That's the other. But I'm thankful for the opportunity. I'm thankful for Chemistry and Chemists, and scientific endeavors in general.

It's the way God made the world to see life out of our head. He gave us certain eyes through which we see everything. And everything we see has a way of bleeding into everything else we see. And this applies to the rest of our bodies. There's a sense in which we are always leaving vestiges of ourselves everywhere we go, and at the same time, there's a sense in which we are dragging our past with us into the future. But I was talking about Chemistry.

That is to say, I'm an actor. Or more truly, I've occasionally had the opportunity to take part in some drama. But everyone acts. But that's not my point. It's the Chemists that I'm actually thinking about and the computer programmers and the all the other scientists out there. Yeah, you. You are acting. You pretend the world is perfect. You, geometricians and engineers, you act as though the world contains circles and straight lines. You pantomime the world with equalities and perfect symmetries. And that's fine. I love suspension bridges; we're grateful for our cars.

I just wanted to point out that every science has to isolate whatever it studies for just a moment. It's impossible to study something without imagining it by itself. But of course nothing ever occurs in absolute isolation. Science is dramatic art. It puts its object of study on a stage, places certain props around it, and tells a story through it. If the scientist tells a good story, his findings will benefit the real world. But the scientist must always remember that he's pretending in the lab. In real life, chemical equations and reactions are never balanced and circles do not exist.

War: Catholic and Schismatic

War divides. It cuts nations and people apart; it tears and rips like a terrible machine devouring families and churches and faces. War stings. It burns fissures through communities and cultures. It rumbles below in the deeps and swallows brothers and fathers and mothers. War separates friends. It severs loyalties; it bursts old wine skins. It dislocates limbs. War divides.

War unites. Where men refused to look in one anothers' eyes; they unblinkly charge eachother to the death. War brings nations crashing against eachother like opposing tides: rushing, roaring together to mingle and mix. War brings brothers together; it puts them face to face, hand to hand. It makes them bleed for eachother. War is reunion. It reunites friends, families, and communities. Where life could not help, death provides the calm. The field is the table where all are one.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Fall

Fall is dripping out of the sky this morning, making the streets shiny and pristine.

Friday, August 06, 2004

the high post

I'm a little slow on the uptake, but the fellows over at the high post look as through they're having a swell time. Friends of mine, I commend their thoughts, and yes, their words to you. One of these days someone needs to make a complete list of all the possible meanings of their title. Or perhaps it's already been done.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

Strong by Use

In the eleventh canto of Book II of Spenser's Faerie Queene, Prince Arthur defends Alma's castle from hoardes assaulting its five major forts. This castle represents the human body, and there are a number of allegorical points that Spenser makes from this. But what is particularly interesting is that the five major defenses of the "body" are the five senses. We are often taught to distrust our senses, but Spenser shows them as particular points of protection from the attacks of evil. Of course these defenses are in need of a savior, Prince Arthur in this case, but they are our defenses none the less. Our task then in "mortifying the flesh" and "casting aside everything that entangles" is not ignoring, or worse, fleeing from our senses. Rather as believers, who have been raised to new life by faith in Christ through baptism (Rom. 6), our duty is to fortify and use our senses as they were designed to be used, seeking out what is truly good. And this fortification does not come about through strenous mental excersize. It comes about through lawful enjoyment and celebration of the tastes and smells of food, listening to symphonies and jam sessions, touching friends and lovers, and watching waterfalls, trees, and tornadoes. And this is what the writer of Hebrews says: "Solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil."

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