R.E. Slater - The Ever-Promise of Palm and Easter Sundays

Jesus enters Jerusalem 

Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender love toward mankind hast sent thy Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh, and to suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind should follow the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may both follow the example of his patience and also be made partakers of his resurrection; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. - The Methodist Church, Book of Worship for Church and Home (1965)

As a little boy I came to especially love Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday. On these high, holy days of the church's calendar year I would witness the depth and richness of the church's traditions - the beautiful worship ceremonies that accompanied the prayers and bible readings on those days with great songs of rejoicing and thanksgiving. By now the winter sun had been replaced with the warming breezes of spring laden with birdsong filling the air and with the boyish promise of a beautiful year ahead. My spirits soared during these days and as much as I loved Christmas (as all good Swedes do) I came to realize that Christmas led to Easter; that a baby's birth led to crucifixion; that an Incarnate God would sacrifice Himself for man's deep sins. A sacrifice that became both God's "Christmas-present" and life-giving "Easter-sustenance" to any penitent willing to abandon self and find all in the Messiah Christ come as atoning Lamb to the altar of God's mercy and forgiveness.

Jesus speaks to old men, women, and children

And so my boyhood images slowly changed. They once were richly imaged in my heart by the pictures shown here from "the bible of my youth" thinking all was right and good in the world when in reality, a week later, from the space between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, the spiritually ugly and horribly unthinkable came to be at the hands of the very celebrants who shouted "Hosanna" not many days earlier. "How? How can this be, I would ask myself?" And even now I still utter these thoughts in my heart six decades later with deep dismay. "How can such a grand faith with such a grand nobility of peace, love, and goodwill to all men seemingly lose its humanity at the drop of a bomb, a political vote, an inane immigration banning, or so soon find itself shouting ungodly epitaphs to one another?" This isn't the Christianity I thought I saw as a boy. But it is the Christianity that is lived out by too many of God's "faithful" unable to see where Christ's path led - from the waving Palm Branches of His adoring masses to the Altar of God - as those same masses began shouting "Crucify Him!" even as they do today with unseeing eyes and blinded hearts. Yet here lies a heavenly altar where atonement would be made for all men and women who, like little children, misunderstood where Palm Sunday truly led. To the place where Peace and Reconciliation must be made between God and man and to all creation. A baneful peace dearly paid for - and made most necessary by the world's sin - if redemption was to become complete in the deep heart and fellowship of God.

Many years later, on a late March morning, in my freshman year of university, I rose up quite early eager to read my bible, pray, and get ready for church. I had joined a wonderful college fellowship that year which fervently rejoiced to serve the Lord with heart and soul, body and mind. I would soon join this warm group of devoted students but needed to get ready so I could catch the church bus working its way across the sleepy city streets. A rusty vehicle grinding its gears as it wended its way through the school's large campus filled within with a growing chorus of joyous singers as it picked up by-ones-and-by-twos the several of us waiting outside our college dorms, fraternities, and campus housing. Here I stood under a semi-darken streetlamp each Sunday waiting for the bus while many thousands of my classmates slept in from a long night of partying hours earlier. Across the street lay another large dorm where my Jewish friend would join me as we together patiently waited the church bus. He was far more knowledgeable than I in his Christianity even as my own story betrayed itself as one growing in the Lord by leaps and bounds this past Spirit-led year.

And so we stood together waiting and talking knowing the church had decided to celebrate Easter Sunday this year outside in the cold parking lot before commencing its regular worship services. When we arrived I immediately began helping to set up the several hundred chairs needed to host our auspicious group of worshipping believers. I pitched in readily to the task making a mighty clatter-and-a-clang with all the other servants of the Lord working together with one another at the same task. And when done, sat down next to any worshipper with whomever I ended up while wishing the morning cold would soon lift. Very soon our South African Jewish pastor rose up at the choir's singing and began our Easter morning service as only a zealous, God-fearing Jew can, by proclaiming with strong shouts of praise and soaring rhetoric the rising of our Lord from the cold tomb of his grave. As we sang songs of resurrection and glory God's Word seemed to soar even as my spirit did in hope and celebration as the warming early spring sun rose in the distance from behind the woodlands beyond to fill us with good cheer. It was beautiful and I could wish these kinds of days lasted forever.

Jerusalem erupts in joy at Jesus' coming

And they will some day. But not just yet, as these next high, holy weekends in the Church's calendar will again bring to its fellowship the truth of its psychotic worship - that what is believed, and sung, and read, holds only for a time until the political or societal winds of fickled change blow hellward in witness to man's confrontation of his plaguing arch nemesis of sin and hate. That it is here, in this hard, harsh world of baleful choices where men and women must confront themselves daily as to their real beliefs and truer actions. If we, as Christians, be for God, and for His love, and for His reconciliation, than as God's faithful we must stand against all else that is not this. And yet the easier road is to party into the wee hours of the morning to then sleep away our stupors thinking there is no more we can do but live without impact, refusing the trouble of faith's fickleness, or its commensurate difficulty of service to others, as too often we become unwilling emissaries of the Lord when called upon to serve.

This is the sleep of Palm Sunday. It betrays the Easter Sunday to come even as it predicts its results. That with any rebirth into the life of God there must be a similar altar we lay our faith upon to take a stand that God's reality is more real than the reality we are living in this stupor called life. That it is God's truth that is more important to us than the ugly truths of unlived faith mired deep in our heart full of hatred and racism. It is here, on the altar of God, we wish only to be awaiting for the morning's warming dawn of redemption's promise to ourselves and to all who would hear and obey at the call of the Lord to rise up and begin the hard journey of redemption. Peace, my friends.

R.E. Slater

April 8, 2017
revised, April 10, 2017

Psalm 51
English Standard Version (ESV)

Create in Me a Clean Heart, O God

To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David, when Nathan the

prophet went to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.

51.1 Have mercy on me,[a] O God,

according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!

3 For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.
4 Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you may be justified in your words
and blameless in your judgment.
5 Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,
and in sin did my mother conceive me.
6 Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being,
and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.

7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
8 Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones that you have broken rejoice.
9 Hide your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
10 Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right[b] spirit within me.
11 Cast me not away from your presence,
and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
and sinners will return to you.
14 Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God,
O God of my salvation,
and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness.
15 O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
16 For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it;
you will not be pleased with a burnt offering.
17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

18 Do good to Zion in your good pleasure;
build up the walls of Jerusalem;
19 then will you delight in right sacrifices,
in burnt offerings and whole burnt offerings;
then bulls will be offered on your altar.

Footnotes:
Psalm 51:1 Or Be gracious to me
Psalm 51:10 Or steadfast

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Palm Sunday

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Palm Sunday is a Christian moveable feast that falls on the Sunday before Easter. The feast commemorates Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, an event mentioned in each of the four canonical Gospels.

In many Christian denominations, worship services on Palm Sunday include a procession of the faithful carrying palms, representing the palm branches the crowd scattered in front of Jesus as he rode into Jerusalem. The difficulty of procuring palms in unfavorable climates led to their substitution with branches of native trees, including box, olive, willow, and yew. The Sunday was often named after these substitute trees, as in Yew Sunday, or by the general term Branch Sunday.

Biblical basis and symbolism

Main article: Triumphal entry into Jerusalem

In the accounts of the four canonical Gospels, Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem takes place about a week before his Resurrection.

Christian theologians believe that the symbolism is captured prophetically in the Old Testament: Zechariah 9:9 "The Coming of Zion's King – See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey". It suggests that Jesus was declaring he was the King of Israel to the anger of the Sanhedrin.

According to the Gospels, Jesus Christ rode a donkey into Jerusalem, and the celebrating people there laid down their cloaks and small branches of trees in front of him, and sang part of Psalm 118: 25–26 – ... Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. We bless you from the house of the Lord ....

The symbolism of the donkey may refer to the Eastern tradition that it is an animal of peace, versus the horse, which is the animal of war.[1] A king would have ridden a horse when he was bent on war and ridden a donkey to symbolize his arrival in peace. Jesus' entry to Jerusalem would have thus symbolized his entry as the Prince of Peace, not as a war-waging king.

In Luke 19:41 as Jesus approaches Jerusalem, he looks at the city and weeps over it (an event known as Flevit super illam in Latin), foretelling the suffering that awaits the city in the events of the destruction of the Second Temple.

In many lands in the ancient Near East, it was customary to cover in some way the path of someone thought worthy of the highest honour. The Hebrew Bible (2 Kings 9:13) reports that Jehu, son of Jehoshaphat, was treated this way. Both the Synoptic Gospels and the Gospel of John report that people gave Jesus this form of honour. In the synoptics the people are described as laying their garments and cut rushes on the street, whereas John specifies fronds of palm (Greek phoinix). In Jewish tradition, the palm is one of the Four Species carried for Sukkot, as prescribed for rejoicing at Leviticus 23:40.

In the Greco-Roman culture of the Roman Empire, which strongly influenced Christian tradition, the palm branch was a symbol of triumph and victory. It became the most common attribute of the goddess Nike or Victory.[9] For contemporary Roman observers, the procession would have evoked the Roman triumph,[10] when the triumphator laid down his arms and wore the toga, the civilian garment of peace that might be ornamented with emblems of the palm.[11] Although the Epistles of Paul refer to Jesus as "triumphing", the entry into Jerusalem may not have been regularly pictured as a triumphal procession in this sense before the 13th century.[12] In ancient Egyptian religion, the palm was carried in funeral processions and represented eternal life. The palm branch later was used as a symbol of Christian martyrs and their spiritual victory or triumph over death.[13] In Revelation 7:9, the white-clad multitude stand before the throne and Lamb holding palm branches.

Eastern and Oriental Christianity

Palm Sunday, or the "Entry of the Lord into Jerusalem," as it is often called in some Orthodox Churches, is one of the Twelve Great Feasts of the liturgical year. The day before Palm Sunday, Lazarus Saturday, believers often prepare palm fronds by knotting them into crosses in preparation for the procession on Sunday. The hangings and vestments in the church are changed to a festive colour—gold in the Greek tradition, and green in the Slavic tradition.

The Troparion of the Feast indicates the resurrection of Lazarus is a prefiguration of Jesus' own Resurrection:O Christ our GodWhen Thou didst raise Lazarus from the dead before Thy Passion,Thou didst confirm the resurrection of the universe.Wherefore, we like children,carry the banner of triumph and victory,and we cry to Thee, O Conqueror of love,Hosanna in the highest!Blessed is He that comethin the Name of the Lord.

In the Russian Orthodox Church, Ukrainian Orthodox Church, Ukrainian Catholic Church, Ruthenian Catholic Church, Polish, Bavarian and Austrian Roman Catholics, and various other Eastern European peoples, the custom developed of using pussy willow instead of palm fronds because the latter are not readily available that far north. There is no canonical requirement as to what kind of branches must be used, so some Orthodox believers use olive branches. Whatever the kind, these branches are blessed and distributed together with candles either during the All-Night Vigil on the Eve of the Feast (Saturday night), or before the Divine Liturgy on Sunday morning. The Great Entrance of the Divine Liturgy commemorates the "Entry of the Lord into Jerusalem", so the meaningfulness of this moment is punctuated on Palm Sunday as everyone stands, holding their branches and lit candles. The faithful take these branches and candles home with them after the service, and keep them in their icon corner as an evloghia (blessing).

In Russia, donkey walk processions took place in different cities, but most importantly in Novgorod and, since 1558 until 1693, in Moscow. It was prominently featured in testimonies by foreign witnesses and mentioned in contemporary Western maps of the city. The Patriarch of Moscow, representing Christ, rode on a "donkey" (actually a horse draped in white cloth); the Tsar of Russia humbly led the procession on foot. Originally, Moscow processions began inside the Kremlin and terminated at Trinity Church, now known as Saint Basil's Cathedral, but in 1658 Patriarch Nikon reversed the order of procession. Peter I, as a part of his nationalisation of the church, terminated the custom; it has been occasionally recreated in the 21st century.

In Oriental Orthodox churches, palm fronds are distributed at the front of the church at the sanctuary steps, in India the sanctuary itself having been strewn with marigolds, and the congregation proceeds through and outside the church.

The congregation in an Oriental Orthodox church in India collects palm fronds for the Palm Sunday procession (the men of the congregation on the left of the sanctuary in the photo; the women of the congregation are collecting their fronds on the right of the sanctuary, outside the photo).

Western Christianity

In ancient times, palm branches symbolized goodness and victory. They were often depicted on coins and important buildings. Solomon had palm branches carved into the walls and doors of the temple (1 Kings 6:29). Again at the end of the Bible, people from every nation raise palm branches to honor Jesus (Revelation 7:9).

Palm Sunday commemorates the entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem (Matthew 21:1-9), when palm branches were placed in his path, before his arrest on Holy Thursday and his crucifixion on Good Friday. It thus marks the beginning of Holy Week, the final week of Lent.

In the Roman Catholic Church, as well as among many Anglican and Lutheran congregations, palm fronds (or in colder climates some kind of substitutes) are blessed with an aspergillum outside the church building in an event called the "blessing of palms" if using palm leaves (or in cold climates in the narthex when Easter falls early in the year). A solemn procession also takes place, and may include the normal liturgical procession of clergy and acolytes, the parish choir, or the entire congregation.

In the Catholic Church, this feast now coincides with that of Passion Sunday, which is the focus of the Mass which follows the service of the blessing of palms. The palms are saved in many churches to be burned on Shrove Tuesday the following year to make ashes used in Ash Wednesday services. The Catholic Church considers the blessed palms to be sacramentals. The vestments for the day are deep scarlet red, the colour of blood, indicating the supreme redemptive sacrifice Christ was entering the city to fulfill: his Passion and Resurrection in Jerusalem.

In the Episcopal and many other Anglican churches and in Lutheran churches, as well, the day is nowadays officially called "The Sunday of the Passion: Palm Sunday"; in practice, though, it is usually termed "Palm Sunday" as in the 1928 American Book of Common Prayer and in earlier Lutheran liturgies and calendars, to avoid undue confusion with the penultimate Sunday of Lent in the traditional calendar, which was "Passion Sunday".

In the Church of Pakistan (a member of the Anglican Communion), the faithful on Palm Sunday carry palm branches into the church as they sing Psalm 24.

In many Protestant churches, children are given palms, and then walk in procession around the inside of the church .[citation needed] In traditional usage of the Methodist Church, The Book of Worship for Church and Home (1965) provides the following Collect for Palm Sunday:

Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender love toward mankind hast sent thy Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh, and to suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind should follow the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may both follow the example of his patience and also be made partakers of his resurrection; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The God of Creation Creating Everlastingly in Love - creatio ex creatione sempiternaliter en amore

Seminar: A New Doctrine of Initial Creation

http://www.ctr4process.org/occasions/events/seminars/seminar/new-doctrine-initial-creation

Date: Tuesday, April 18, 2017 - 2:30pm to 4:00pm

Location: Haddon

Event Description:

A growing number of scholars are criticizing the idea that God created the universe from nothing. The idea has little to no biblical support. It supports a view of omnipotence that makes the problem of evil unsolvable. But few alternative views of initial creation have been offered. Thomas Jay Oord offers a new view in this seminar, a view that champions God as creative love.

Presenter Bio: Thomas Jay Oord is a theologian, philosopher, and scholar of multi-disciplinary studies. Oord is an award-winning author, and he has written or edited more than twenty books. A ten-time Faculty Award winner, Oord teaches at institutions around the globe. Oord is known for his contributions to research on love, open and relational theology, science and religion, and theologies exploring the implications of freedom and relationships for transformation.

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Photo Credit: Thomas J. Oord

My Alternative Theory of Creation

http://thomasjayoord.com/index.php/blog/archives/alternative-theory-initial-creation

by Thomas J. Oord

April 3, 2017

In three previous blogs, I explored 9 reasons many Christians affirm the theory that God initially created our universe from absolutely nothing. Although some of the reasons have validity, I found none of them to be ultimately convincing.

In this blog, I want to offer my alternative to creation from nothing.

The Basic Idea: creatio ex creatione sempiternaliter en amore 

My new theory of creation says God, in love, always creates out of what God previously created. As the ever Creator, God has everlastingly been creating.

That’s it in a nutshell. But there’s a lot packed into those phrases. So let me explain a bit more…

My theory says God never creates out of absolute nothingness. Each moment of creation history begins with God creating something in relation to what God previously created. God always creates something new from something old and never ex nihilo ["out of nothing"].

This theory says God has always been creating. God’s work to create in relation to what God previously created has always been going on. To put it another way, God’s creating is everlasting. That’s why I call God the “ever Creator.” God’s creating activity had no absolute beginning and is new every moment of a history without beginning or end.

This implies that God has never existed absolutely alone. God has always related to creatures, whether those creatures be complex or simple, whether creation be ordered or disordered. In fact, I believe God essentially relates to creation. God does not just relate within Trinity but also with the creaturely entities God creates. God’s relationality derives necessarily from God’s essence.

My theory says God must create. Creating is a necessary activity for God, because creating is an essential attribute of God’s nature. God has always existed and always creates, because creating is indispensable to the necessarily creative God.

Perhaps most importantly, my theory says love is God’s motive for and means of creating. And love is God’s creative goal. God’s nature is first and foremost love, which means God always loves, and this love is creative, self-giving, and others-empowering. To the question, “Why is there something rather than nothing?” my theory says, “because God always loves, and this love always motivates God’s creating.” From my perspective, love is the key to understanding reality.

One could describe my alternative theory with the Latin phrase creatio ex creatione sempiternaliter en amore. This phrase means “creating out of creation everlastingly in love.” To put it differently: God always and lovingly creates out of that which God previously created, and this creating has always been occurring.

What My Theory Does Not Mean

My creation theory that God always and lovingly creates out of what God previously created needs further explanation. Like all theories – especially new ones – it is prone to misunderstanding.

In my next blog, I’ll address four misunderstandings. As a teaser for that blog, I’ll conclude by mentioning the four misunderstandings I suspect many will have when first encountering my alternative theory of initial creation:

• My theory does not say or imply that our universe is eternal.

• My theory does not mean God is without freedom.

• My theory does not mean creation pre-exists God.

• My theory says that for God to exist, God does not need creation.

I’ll explain each statement in my next blog essay…

Photo Credit: Thomas J. Oord

Finding Redemption & Resurrection in Disney's 2017 Remake of "Beauty & the Beast"

The Bigger Reason You Should Be Worked Up

About Beauty and the Beast

https://johneltonpletcher.com/2017/03/27/the-bigger-reason-you-should-be-worked-up-about-beauty-and-the-beast/

by John Elton Pletcher

March 27, 2017

I heard all the hoopla leading up to its release. Segments of conservative Christianity were crying, “BOYCOTT!” because of the inclusion of a gay character. I’ve never been one for blindly joining anti-cultural bandwagons, so naturally I concluded I would need to see for myself. “What’s the big scuttle? Is there actually reason to be worked up?”

I went curious but prepared for some level of humdrum. I anticipated saying to myself, “They [Disney] took the oh-so-familiar story and dressed it with ultra-realistic techno wizardry. Okay. That was kind of cool. And oh yea, they pushed the gay agenda.” I expected to be underwhelmed.

Instead, as our family settled in for the late-afternoon show, I found myself marvelously entertained, enthralled by the amazing cinematography. I was thoroughly captivated by characters, color, musical score, and brilliant pacing. Yes, a character was portrayed as ever-so-subtly gay, but I found myself wondering, “Would I really pick up on that if I wasn’t looking for him?” In actuality, this 2017 version seemed less sultry in male-female interaction than the old cartoon. I thought, “Wow! Less cleavage and sexual innuendo—why weren’t Christians applauding this cleaned up rendition?”

But there’s actually a bigger issue that deeply disturbed me. I’m stunned no one has yet cried out about such a pressing, flagrantly obvious theme.

All across this “tale as old as time,” the castle’s one-time-workers—now cursed household furniture, décor, and dishware—have been actively serving to orchestrate true love, attempting to reverse the curse, both for the Beast and their own existence. Toward the climax, the final rose petal has dropped, the Beast has been shot, and the great castle’s curse is culminating. Very soon, all will be permanently immobile and forever lifeless. The scenes are heavy, dark, and sad with regret. Love has not been found. The characters will be trapped, frozen in place, and lost forever.

With just moments remaining, Cogsworth the Clock and Lumiere the Candlestick realize the end is near. All along, they have been gradually losing their humanity, becoming harder, less functional and life-like. As they are about to lose all mobility and their ability to speak, Lumiere proclaims, “It’s been an honor to serve with you, Cogsworth.” In the next beats, every character stands still. All faces and motion vanish. The Beast has died, and his entire household is now still as stone.

Must confess, I was gushing tears in the theater’s darkness. (Yes, I can be a sentimental schmuck if a story deeply grabs me.) Truth be told, my soul was ambushed by the parallels, having said goodbye to several close family and friends in recent years. Such depiction of the solemnity of the curse caught me off guard. Suddenly, I was crying all over again about losing Dad, losing Grandma, as well as just recently saying farewell to Sherilyn and Bob in our church family. And I was also deeply soul-moved - extremely worked up by something bigger. I knew what was coming.

So do you. As Belle weeps over the Beast and confesses her true love, Agathe the Enchantress revives the rose. Love wins, blowing the mighty winds of change. The Beast rises and is marvelously transformed into the Prince once again. Then one by one, every character including Cogsworth and Lumiere come back to glorious life, now fully human once again. People who had been estranged for many years are reunited, now fully alive and joyfully dancing.

In the theater’s darkness, I was bawling once again. As tears gushed, I felt my chair shaking. These were tears of triumph, born of oft-forgotten, albeit vitally important workplace theology. Truth be told, this scene marvelously portrays a dusty concept known as transformatio mundi. It’s Latin for the eschatological belief that with the end-times arrival of New Heavens and New Earth, all will be cleansed, fully transformed. All of “the house” will be renewed, gloriously redeemed—all of Creation, including the servants, believers in Christ Jesus along with their grace-motivated, God-glorifying work (Ephesians 2:8-10; Romans 8). Very closely related is the marvelous concept of resurrection. Christ rose in his new, physical body, fully alive. His own work of gracious salvation and bodily resurrection supply the first taste and the precious promise of such bodily resurrection for every human who by faith trusts in Him (1 Corinthians 15).

Gracious, selfless love. The curse reversed, resurrection, and powerful transformation. Please tell me again why conservative Christians cried, “Boycott!” Hours after seeing the movie, I’m still gloriously disturbed. Instead of sporting a grumpy outlook over a possible gay character, I wish we would be worked up by the resurrection message so marvelously portrayed by such a movie. We could be motivated to persevere in our daily good work in God’s kingdom. After all, we know what’s coming. The house and servants will not stay cursed. It’s Gospel. Gracious love wins. There’s glorious transformation yet to come.

But thanks be to God! Who gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ. So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless. (1 Corinthians 15:57-58)

*For further reading on these provocative concepts, grab a copy of Darrell Cosden’s The Heavenly Good of Earthly Work.

The Sudan: An Ancient Country with more Pyramids than Egypt - But No Tourists

The wonder among wonders – the pyramids at Meroë
 Photo Credit: Galyna Andrushko / Galyna Andrushko

The surprising country with more pyramids than Egypt –

but no tourists

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/africa/sudan/articles/sudan-and-the-pyramids-you-have-not-heard-of/

by Chris Leadbeater, travel writer

March 24, 2017

The wooden door of the tomb is pulled back, and the underworld reaches up to drag us into its dark grip. Holding a low-intensity torch, my guide Hatim El Nour goes first, the meagre beam identifying rough “stairs” in the soil whose edges have been eaten away by the millennia. We choose our footsteps carefully, the air noticeably cooler as we descend into the burial chamber – where nothing, and nobody, awaits us. Not even the dead.

The keepers of keys at a tomb in El KurruPhoto Credit: Alamy

King Tanutamun – the 17th-century BC monarch who once resided in pyramid K16 of the El Kurru necropolis – is long gone, his sarcophagus vanished. His only presence now is on the walls, in the elegant paintings which depict his achievements. There he is, recreated by a masterful artist, being helped into the afterlife by gods and goddesses of the Egyptian pantheon. Hatim traces them with the torch – Isis, the mother goddess; Anubis, the jackal, the guardian of the departed; Thoth, the baboon, the god of wisdom. Together they convey Tanutamun towards the powerful figure of Osiris, who weighs and measures his soul. “The verdict is a good one,” Hatim says, turning to the mural on the other wall, where the king is seen moving back towards the exit, on into the “next world”.

Inside the burial chamber of the tomb of Tanutamun | Photo Credit: Getty

To glimpse these Egyptian deities, portrayed so clearly in the grave of a man who died in 653 BC, is an utter privilege – but, without context, also misleading. For El Kurru lies not in Egypt, but in Sudan – 275 miles north of the capital Khartoum. Strange? Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Because the realm of the pharaohs reached far south of what is now delineated as Egypt – along the Nile, past what is now the Aswan Dam and Lake Nasser, and a considerable distance across the modern border. Here, in North Sudan, the Ancient Egyptians left behind a wealth of temples and pyramids – and, 42 centuries on, precious few tourists.

That one word, “Sudan”, is the reason for the low traveller numbers at sites which, in a country with a less hair-raising image, would be a blur of coach parties and queues. But this nation has a reputation for trouble which may even stretch back to the Egyptian invasion of its territory by Mentuhotep II in the 21st century BC – but which certainly colours its last 200 years: Ottoman annexation in 1821; coming under the thumb of colonial Britain in 1882; independence in 1956 and a subsequent slump into civil war that eventually sparked the birth of a separate state, South Sudan, in 2011; a dabbling in violence in the Nineties that saw the United States decry it as a sponsor of terrorism, to the point where bombs were dropped on Khartoum. Even now, Sudan’s citizens have been listed in the divisive travel bans put in place by the Trump administration. Tourists? It’s amazing there are any at all.

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Excerpt:

River boats on the Nile at Khartoum

Khartoum characters | The capital’s colourful history

If the Kushite era is the prime reason to visit Sudan, its capital provides echoes of a more recent period – one that caused problems for Britain, whose intervention in Sudanese affairs started in earnest in 1879 with the demise of Ottoman rule in the “country”. This, though, coincided with the rise of Muhammad Ahmad, a talismanic figure who styled himself as the “Mahdi” (“Guided One”) and began an ascent to power that ended with the siege of Khartoum, the city’s fall in January 1885, and the slaying of the colonial governor – the fabled Victorian Major-General Charles Gordon. 

Reprisals and conquest would be meted out from 1896 to 1898 by Herbert Kitchener, but not before the city had spent a decade under Mahdist control. Both the Mahdi’s Tomb (an ornate domed edifice) and the home of his successor, Khalifa Abdullah (preserved as a museum), are key stops on any tour of Khartoum – offering something a little different to the National Museum (where exhibits include frescoes rescued from the seventh-century Faras Cathedral – now lost under Lake Nasser) and the clutter and commerce of the Omdurman Souk.

Khartoum is also the city where the Blue and White Niles meet, in a calm collision that begs to be photographed.

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The reality, as is often the way, is more pleasant than you might expect. Hatim and I continue 15 miles north-east, along the leafy corridor daubed on to this aridity by the Nile, to the town of Karima. Around us, all is motion – cattle, conversation and a cavalcade of tuk-tuks in the market square; a contrasting silence beyond at the railway station, built by “civilising” Victorian hands, but bereft of trains for a decade now. It adds up to a North African everydayness which helps explain why – in contrast to some areas of Egypt – the Foreign and Commonwealth Office considers much of Sudan safe to visit. Over coffee – strong, thick, aromatic, brewed on a charcoal burner in a rudimentary “café”, and served in tiny glasses – Hatim dissects the intricacies of the heritage that has brought me here.

As a historian and PhD-level expert in ancient Sudan, as well as a guide, he baulks at the word “Nubian” – the term often used to denote the Sudanese who tussled with the warlords of Luxor and Giza. It relates, he says, to a people who would not appear until 300AD. He talks instead of the Kingdom of Kush, which took shape in the Bayuda Desert around 2500BC. Its fortunes waxed and waned according to Egypt’s strength, weathering Mentuhotep II’s incursion (in 2032BC) and striking back in the eighth century BC, when the mighty King Kashta strode north with intent, and the Kushite kings became the pharaohs of the 25th Dynasty, ruling both “countries” between 760BC and 656BC. These men were no footnotes. They were warriors and empire builders, and they left their imprint across this dusty landscape.

The realm of the pharaohs reached far south of what is now
delineated as Egypt | Photo Credit: Alamy

El Kurru was just one of the Kushite royal necropolises. It was in use between 795BC and 315BC – but posterity has not been kind to it. Archaeological study has still to fill all the gaps in the timeline: there is no consensus on who was buried in K1, the biggest of the site’s 22 pyramids (which is currently under excavation). And many of its tombs were pared back to rubble by military magpies in the 19th century. On the outskirts of Karima, Hatim shows me Al Teraif – an agricultural village in the Nile greenbelt which would be unremarkable but for its Ottoman fort. This once-colossal stronghold is also now a ruin, and in the crumbling of its walls, the thievery from which it is born is laid bare. There, in its flanks, are slabs of Kushite masonry, adorned with carvings of kings, queens and gods.

Staring back at Karima from the opposite bank of the Nile, Nuri has fared better. In use from 664BC to 310BC, it superseded El Kurru as royal graveyard – thanks to the status of the men and women who were committed to eternity here. It has 73 pyramids, most of them intact – but the keystone is the earliest, built for King Taharqa, a titan of the 25th Dynasty who wanted his tomb to be a new headline statement befitting his pomp as a ruler of Egypt. Around him grew a Valley of the Kings, a Westminster Abbey – and again, I have it to myself. Aside from Hatim and me, there is nobody here but for the farmer who wanders by as the sun is setting.

Nuri superseded El Kurru as royal graveyard | Photo Credit: Getty

I am agog at the pyramid of King Aspelta, a structure of symmetrical perfection, and there are amused observations from Hatim on the number of photographs I am taking. It dawns on me that, for this Sudanese man, the note of fascination is not the ancient joys he has ambled past every day since childhood – but that anyone would come to see them.

It has 73 pyramids, most of them intact | Photo Credit: Getty

We return to Karima and the comforts of the Nubian Rest House, an Italian-run boutique property of 10 rooms, which overlooks the glue that held this region together. I wake before sunrise to climb it – Jebel Barkal, a sandstone monolith which, although just 322 ft tall and simple to ascend, was regarded as sacred by the rulers who held sway here.

Once I reach the summit, I can appreciate why. On the south-east side of the butte, gazing towards the coming sun, is a column of rock. At this elevation, its resemblance to a rearing cobra – a symbol of Egyptian royal strength – is obvious. So is the outline of the Temple of Amun, constructed circa 1400 BC, below this serpentine pinnacle (probably to harness its imagery), by Egyptian pharaoh Thutmosis III, a miracle of lion statues and tumbled pillars, heavily expanded by Taharqa around 680 BC. Near the sanctuary, a wall of hieroglyphics reveals the skill of the Egyptian craftsmen – and the lesser abilities of the Kushites in later centuries.

Metres away, the fertile tranche of mud provided by the Nile is extra evidence as to why ancient leaders would have built here. We follow it upstream, cheating by forging south-east through the unforgiving Bayuda sandscape, clipping off the curve of one of the river’s loops, to the railway town of Atbara – then flitting down to the endgame for the kings of Kush, to the wonder among wonders – the pyramids at Meroë.

Meroë is the mother lode of Kushite heritage | Photo Credit: Galyna Andrushko - Fotolia

Here is the mother lode of Kushite heritage. It was used from the ninth century BC to the fourth century AD, but especially from 300BC onwards, in an era of diminished circumstances, when the 25th Dynasty had fallen, the new players of Assyria (modern-day Iran and Iraq) and (later) Rome had wrested control of Egypt, and safety was to be found further south.

Some 177 pyramids stand here, the majority in the Northern Cemetery, in various states of preservation and glory. They could easily have been lost. One notable destroyer was Giuseppe Ferlini, an Italian medic and amateur treasure-hunter who, accompanying Ottoman forces in 1834, decapitated several structures in his lust for gold. Even now, the devastation he wrought on the first-century BC tomb of Queen Amanishakheto is visually shocking, a cultural rape of brute ignorance which left much of the brickwork spilt over the dunes. Thankfully, he did not desecrate the whole area. Adjacent, the tomb of Naherka (built in 140 BC) is a proud survivor, its “H-shaped” entrance – so distinctive of the Meroë pyramids – opening on to a funerary chapel where fine etchings of Isis and Osiris greet the dead king. Above both, Jebel Barkal is visible on the wall.

Two doorways along, the final fate of the Kushite kingdom is embodied in the pyramid of Queen Amanirenas. A Sudanese Boadicea, she took the fight back to Egypt – and to the Romans who were now in charge – in 27 BC. She met with partial success in a war that lasted five years, and was concluded by a favourable treaty, negotiated with Emperor Augustus. This was, though, the last defiance of a civilisation that would fade in the next 300 years, condemned to irrelevance by a new world order on the Mediterranean.

I take my leave too, to Meroë Tented Camp, a luxury retreat a mile away. Here, I look back at the pyramids and decide the Kushites would be pleased with the song they sing of their former greatness. Even if, for now, so few are listening.

How to get there

Cox & Kings (020 3411 1707; coxandkings.co.uk) is offering an 11-day Treasures of Ancient Nubia trip through Sudan which visits the pyramids at El Kurru, Nuri and Meroë, as well as Khartoum.

Prices start at £2,845 per person for a group tour, or £3,745 per person for a private journey – including high-end accommodation, international flights, chauffeured internal travel and guides. Ethiopian Airlines (0800 016 3449; ethiopianairlines.com) flies to Khartoum daily from London Heathrow, via Addis Ababa.

Strong Themes of Redemption in Disney's 2017 Beauty & the Beast

From the start I knew the remake of Disney's "Beauty and the Beast" (2017) was going to be phenomenal. How? Why because its main character was to be the redoubtable Emma Watson of "Harry Potter" fame! It would be from Emma's many talents and gifts who would bring so naturally her own special British magic to the 25 year old original film story for a new generation of youth to enjoy. No need for Harry Potter this time as our wizardress-heroine Hermione Granger reprises an even stronger role in the character of beloved Belle's deep inner strengths we have come to know and love of Emma's graceful acting upon this 17th Century French legend from long ago.

Besides caring for her father who is a genius clockmaker - recalling to the mind the talented Farrer family of Scottish clockmakers - Belle is portrayed "time and again" :) as one of those rare talents who knows what she's about and how she wishes to invest her life for the general good of all whom she meets. She has no visions of being a stay-at-home-mom when she can lead and teach and educate all who are willing to listen and follow her determination to break out of the life's many defining molds.

But to those narcissistic brutes like a Gaston who carelessly go about life heedless of the harm they do - Belle can only reach out as a feeble broken mirror towards a more reflective way of life offering more than mere self-pleasure and gratification. But as a developing redemptive figure she can only go so far without the willing response of the other in genuine acknowledgement and purposeful change. This, Gaston is not willing to do, as he becomes a darker image of himself as the movie progresses across its colorful scenes of disquieted unrest. Here then lies the truer beast of the film which no magic can undo as Gaston finds his own ruinous ends of self-destruction molded by hateful discrimination's unrelenting drive to subdue a kingdom that is his alone to ruthlessly rule. It is not a dissimilar darkness to the one we saw before throughout the Harry Potter series in Lord Voldemort's committed quest for absolute power over the individual dignities and freedoms of others he would subvert.

The other sad feature of the film is the town people's deep forgetfulness of who they were when having once served the Prince - himself now turned to an angry Beast - when once they had found their own "life and light" in the duties of princely order and rule. But when the Prince lost his way, they, like himself, would be tested as to their truer heart's advocations. It was only through a Prince's belated contrition that a townspeople might once again find its purpose and place in life. And the Prince? It took Belle's forgiving sacrifice and compassionate healing touch to raise him up from the dead (quite literally at the end of the story) to enable him to lead, encourage, and serve his townsfolk again. A Prince once lost to himself in a heart grown cold and beastly. And when done, we sadly find a townsfolk loss to their own purposes to become the more willing pawns to any fiction of leadership which might arrive as substitute role. Which it did in the self-declarative vows of the reprobate personage of Gaston whose leadership is decidely unprincely and thoroughly devoid of compassion, kindness or the slightest hints of thoughtfulness.

It is into these several dramas dear Belle comes to redeem beginning with her simple, fatherly home life that only truly lives with her presence abiding and caring within; then into a small colloquial town inhabited by provincially well-meaning peasants (usually a delight but never in any village when harboring deep stereotypes of fear and ignorance); soon, across the ways of deceiving manly men (Gaston); and later into the torn angers of a fallen hubris (the Beast). To all Belle comes to redeem as the unlikeliest of redeemers. Betrayed by her singing heart and ready goodwill to the difficult tasks lying ahead, she little realizes her difficult course had been set many years earlier by a magician's curse upon the town's beloved Prince.

At which point Belle "comes of age" during a steadily growing infliction of deep personal struggles for survival against a host of unworthies found upon the lying lips of gossip, innuendo, and name-calling; or, an unwanted and troublesome wooer; or that of a struggling aged father dealing with social disconnectedness; or a threatening dark forest holding dangerous rending wolves; and soon thereafter, a foreboding castle ravaged by anger's lost where her worst fears come to life. Fears which seem to mount upwards like the endless towering turrets climbing across the rooflines of a hidden castle's sinister aspect. Here she finds her imprisoned father to then be confronted by the unhopeful dilemma of herself being trapped forever as a prisoner. Thus stealing from her any possibility of becoming who she might become - very life and light to all who would come into her sphere of influence. But rather than to think on these things, in rapid, willful exchange she sacrifices her right to life by freeing her doomed father held against his will for stealing a garden rose from the Beast's beknighted estates. Belle's role as would-be savior unceremoniously ends with the echoing clang of an heavy iron door ringing shut met by a gloomy darkness settling everywhere about.

How curious then that in the midst of dashed hopes and dreams, in the darkest of hours, some lifestories have opportunity to rise above the meanness and anger spinning around them? These are the rare stories of heroes and heroines who breath life into the world's blackness to shine a radiant light into the cellars of imaginations grown cold with time and loss. It is a story as old as the one we find in the personage of Jesus come into a world more religious than godly, more hateful than loving, more ignorant than enlightened. It is a story where to find life one must lose their life in order for others to live. It is a story "as old as time" where when the promised "rose of life" drops its last decaying petal may come the promised luxuriant redemption of love and forgiveness when needed most from the most unlikeliest source of empowerment. That of a hopeful spirit learning her strength of resilency and foresightedness against the unsightly darkness of a world forgetting itself and the good it could do with each other.

God bless the Belle's of this life. Let us learn to listen to them, and allow them to be the blessings they must be for the good of our souls and this wobbly world we live in. There can be no better magic than the heartwarming magic of love and forgiveness! Peace.

R. E. Slater

March 26, 2017

A CRYSTAL FOREST
poetry link

by William Sharp

The air is blue and keen and cold,

With snow the roads and fields are white

But here the forest's clothed with light

And in a shining sheath enrolled.

Each branch, each twig, each blade of grass,

Seems clad miraculously with glass:

Above the ice-bound streamlet bends

Each frozen fern with crystal ends.

.

.

.

Belle reads William Sharp's poem "A Crystal Forest"

in Beauty & the Beast and then adds the following

lines from the Disney script:

"For in that solemn silence is heard

in the whisper of every sleeping thing:

Look, look at me,

Come wake me up

for still here I'll be."

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST Official Trailer (2017)

Emma Watson, Dan Stevens Movie

Emma Watson sings as Belle 

n Disney's 2017 "Beauty & the Beast"

Belle the Bold: How Disney’s New Beauty and

the Beast Redefines the Classic, Heroine Role

http://www.vogue.com/article/beauty-and-the-beast-screening-artist-cleo-wade

March 13, 2017

On the night of International Women’s Day, an intimate group of editors joined artist, activist, and poet Cleo Wade for a special screening of Disney’s new live-action adaptation of Beauty and the Beast. The film, which stars Emma Watson as a stronger, more intrepid and courageous Belle, confronts classical fairy-tale traditions by redefining the princess role. Following the screening at the Crosby Street Hotel, Wade led a discussion addressing the movie’s themes of female empowerment, human compassion, and unconditional love. Below are some of the evening’s highlights.

Belle is not the typical “Beauty” . . .

“There is no hero in this film, only a ‘she-ro,’ ” said Wade. “I love what a nontraditional princess Belle [Watson] is. She is the ‘girl power’ princess . . . there is not a single moment in the film where she is the damsel in distress.” Throughout the movie, Belle proves she’s an educator, an innovator, and a swift decision-maker. “She’s obsessed with reading, and she’s the one always saving the day,” said Wade. Assertive and brave, Belle consistently refuses the advances of the dim-witted hunk Gaston, and in doing so, sets her bar high. “I love in life when women are able to set their standards and keep their standards. Then the men have to rise to those standards,” Wade said.

. . . And Gaston is just not good enough.

“I thought Gaston was really interesting because he is more than a character—he is a symbol of a certain type of male who, I think, is not enough for the modern woman,” said Wade. Belle’s refusal of Gaston sends a clear message that a man’s interest alone is not a reason to acquiesce. “He’s not just the guy that you are annoyed with. For young girls, it’s like, ‘This is not good enough for you.’ ”

The village rally, initiated by Gaston, is a warning sign for modern times.

Apart from being a former captain in the army, Gaston is also the de facto leader of the village. When he hears about the Beast, his immediate reaction is to mobilize troops and attack. “It was so interesting to see the parallels in real life,” said Wade about this moment in the film. “This one thing—just proof the Beast exists—is used to rally a large group of people behind something that isn’t necessary true or real. I so hope that young people watch this film and understand that there are two sides to every story. You never know—the beast can actually be a prince.”

The cast of "Beauty and the Beast"

dish on the upcoming remake

A tale of two Belles: 1991 and 2017.

How Disney Subtly Made ‘Beauty And The Beast’ More Feminist

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/how-disney-subtly-made-beauty-and-the-beast-more-feminist_us_58cfd97ce4b0ec9d29dd676f

by Emma Gray
March 20, 2017

The new film goes to great lengths to demonstrate

Belle’s agency in every part of the story.

For women who grew up in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, few characters loom larger than Belle from the 1991 Disney movie “Beauty and the Beast.”

Compared to her Disney princess predecessors, Belle was a revelation. She wasn’t asleep for 75 percent of a story that centered around her (”Sleeping Beauty”). She did more than dress up for a ball (”Cinderella”) and unintentionally threaten other women with her beauty (”Snow White”). And she didn’t have to woo a man while physically stripped of her voice (”The Little Mermaid”). Belle, with her interest in learning and reading, and her lack of interest in being married off to a walking caricature of toxic masculinity, presented a portrait of a more empowered Disney princess.

The latest iteration of the 18th-century fairy tale is the live-action “Beauty and the Beast” starring Emma Watson, which came out over the weekend with a record-breaking $170 million in ticket sales. It’s delightful to watch, complete with stunning visuals, splashy musical numbers and a subtle but refreshingly feminist update.

Feminists have long grappled with the contradictory forces that are at play in the 1991 Disney film. On the one hand, Belle maintains a strong sense of self throughout the movie. She has a passion for books. She is defiant in the face of men who want to make decisions for her. She is fiercely loyal to her father. She wants adventure “much more than this provincial life.” On the other hand, she falls in love with a literal animal who initially tells her that she must remain his prisoner forever.

Over the years, the movie has received strong criticism for romanticizing Stockholm Syndrome and sending a message to young girls that it is their job to tame the male “beasts” in their lives. The 2017 version of “Beauty and the Beast” had to contend with this critique before it was even released, with Emma Watson pushing back on it in a February interview with Entertainment Weekly.

“It’s something I really grappled with at the beginning; the kind of Stockholm Syndrome question about this story,” she said. “That’s where a prisoner will take on the characteristics of and fall in love with the captor. Belle actively argues and disagrees with [Beast] constantly. She has none of the characteristics of someone with Stockholm Syndrome because she keeps her independence, she keeps her independence of mind.”

The new film goes to great lengths to demonstrate Belle’s agency in every part of the story, amplifying things that are only subtly touched on in the animated version, and in some cases, creating totally new pieces of plot.

In the 1991 film, Belle is an avid reader. In the 2017 version, she wants to pass that skill and passion along to other girls. (At one point in the film, she attempts to teach a young girl in town to read and is reprimanded by the older male schoolmaster.) And to make it even clearer that Belle’s mind ― not her pretty face ― is her greatest asset, the film turns her into an inventor. She is shown doing the laundry with a contraption she invented herself, sort of a horse-powered precursor to the washing machine.

The movie also makes a point to highlight her romantic agency. Belle rejects the overtures of town cad Gaston even more clearly in 2017 than she did in 1991, telling him flat-out that they could never ever make each other happy and that she will never marry him.

And when it comes to the slow burn romance between Belle and the Beast, the film at least attempts to offer a better explanation for their eventual amorous connection ― and attempts to make it clear that Belle never accepts her fate as a permanent prisoner. She swears to her father that she will escape from the Beast’s castle when she forces him to to trade spots with her. On her first night in the castle, she begins constructing a long chain made of dresses, implying that she might use it in the future to scale her way out of the castle.

Later on, rather than simply justifying Belle and Beast’s romantic bond with one life-saving incident, a few snowballs and a few books (though all of those elements are present in the new movie), the updated version leaves more room for their affection to grow. They discuss Shakespeare and King Arthur. They briefly travel to Paris through an enchanted book and learn about the fate of Belle’s mother ― a character whose existence is ignored in the animated movie. The resulting emotional intimacy bolsters the argument that the Beast has earned Belle’s eventual love.

As an added bonus, the side characters, both women and men, are fleshed out in ways that add to the stakes of the story. The audience is not just invested in Belle and her quest for love, understanding and adventure. We also feel for the other inhabitants of the cursed castle. The family film also highlights (albeit subtly) an openly gay character, Le Fou, and includes two prominent interracial couples ― Lumiere (Ewan McGregor) and Plumette (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), and Madame Garderobe (Audra McDonald) and new character Maestro Cadenza (Stanley Tucci).

Interestingly, despite its shortcomings, “Beauty and the Beast” has always included elements of feminist commentary ― even in its earliest iterations. The fairy tale was first published in 1740 by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve, and then revised and republished in 1756 by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont. Even the earliest version of story ― which contains many narrative elements that the 1991 animated film does not ― pushed back on the notion that women must be resigned to a marital partner of their father’s choosing, something that was common practice in 18th-century France.

This theme of ownership over one’s life choices comes through quite strongly in the 1991 film.

As French professor Paul Young told Time of the story’s 18th-century context: “[’Beauty and the Beast’ is] a story written and published by a woman, with a strong female character at its lead, who is very reflective and intelligent and she makes her own choices, which is not something you saw in French literature or in French society at the time.”

Of course, there will always be limits to the progressive messaging of a story that involves a woman falling in love with a man who begins as her captor. But in 2017, the “tale as old as time” manages to strike a balance between the warmth of nostalgia and the importance of feminist progress. So, Disney, if you’re thinking of giving feminist updates to more of the classics... Be Our Guest!

Scot McKnight: Review of "The Shack," Part 3/3

Image courtesy: windblownmedia.com

Baffled by the Criticisms of The Shack?
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2017/03/10/baffled-criticisms-shack/

by Scot McKnight

Mar 10, 2017

Anyone who knows me knows that as a Christian I proudly stand in the Nicene-Chalcedonian tradition. Every time I confess the Nicene Creed in worship, I do so with deep conviction. I am unapologetically trinitarian and I resist any attempts at modern modalist reconfigurations of the essential Christian doctrine of God. I firmly believe in the bodily resurrection of Jesus and I strongly object to any attempt to have a resurrected Jesus without his actual earthly body.

I love theology and I love the necessary precision of theological language. But I also love the imaginative narrative that displays theology in ways that speak to the head and to the heart, which is why I thoroughly enjoyed reading The Shack several years ago and found myself rather baffled then, and somewhat mystified now, with the advent of the movie, at so many of the very negative appraisals of the book (and now the movie) on theological grounds from other Christians. (FYI: I have not yet seen the movie.)

Casting aside the aspersions of the book as juvenile and sophomoric literature, what I loved about the book was that in a wonderfully imaginative way it dealt with doctrine, relating it to the always deeply relevant and timely philosophical and theological matters that relate to the problem of evil, forgiveness, the nature of God, and God’s work in this world by God’s very presence. To be sure, there were times when I didn’t agree with a particular narrative move the author, Paul Young, made in a portrayal, but then again, I have yet to always agree with every scholarly and not-so-scholarly constructive theological treatment I have read.

Without precise theological language, the great doctrines of our faith have no boundaries that give them their distinctive character. Without narrative imagination our doctrines will appear to many to be somehow beside the point of life. Theologians may prefer to read something more substantive like Karl Barth, and I love Barth - but they need to know that the folks in the pews (and outside the pews as well) are not reading the great Swiss-German theologian - they are reading Paul Young and now they are going to see the movie. (As example, as much as I love Barth’s Church Dogmatics, I doubt there is a movie about it in the offing.)

I heard Paul Young speak several years ago. If you ever get an opportunity to hear him you must make the effort. As I listened to Paul, I remember becoming rather angry at the charge of heresy that had been leveled against him by those, who may know their theology, but know little about the nature of true heresy, as well as having no idea how to express theological truth in a way that makes a difference in people’s lives. (See my post on the use and misuse of heresy.) C.S. Lewis often complained that the biggest problem with theologians was that they lacked imagination in their theological explications. If Lewis were still alive he would know that little has changed.

There are times when I have wondered if Jesus was accused of “heresy” when he compared the kingdom of God to a mustard seed. On occasion I have considered the possibility that Jesus was charged with a less than orthodox doctrine of God when he, in story form, compared God to the father who gladly threw aside his dignity and self-respect to welcome home a wayward son. There have been times when I thought that perhaps Jesus was ridiculed by the trained theologians for his portrayal of God as an unjust judge.

I love reading theology. I enjoy parsing terminology and honing the sharp edges of doctrine into something finely tuned and precise. But I also enjoy reading the imaginative narratives that help me think theologically about life and faith in ways I had never considered.

I am an unapologetic Nicene-Chalcedonian trinitarian theologian; and I applaud Paul Young for his portrayal of the Trinity and his narrative display of some of our most significant beliefs and convictions in The Shack.

Related Links:

Part 1 - Thomas Oord: Review of "The Shack"

Part 2 - Roger Olson: Review of "The Shack"

Part 3 - Scot McKnight: Review of "The Shack"