Scott McKnight - What's the "Old" Perspective on Paul?

What’s the “Old” Perspective on Paul?

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2015/03/09/whats-the-old-perspective-on-paul/

Mar 9, 2015 @ 5:15 by Scot McKnight 4 Comments

I’ve not seen the old perspective on soteriology, as framed mostly through one reading of Paul, expressed any better than in Carl Trueman’s sketch of Luther’s theology at work in the Heidelberg Disputation (slightly reformatted):

To get a fuller view of the old perspective than is found in what is quoted below one has to bring in not only the Old Testament and law but also Judaism and works of the law and tie them to an Augustinian anthropology. Not all of this is present in this summary, but the anthropology of self-deception is the foundation on which the whole posture toward law and works of the law and ultimately Judaism will be formed — and what Luther had to say about Judaism later in his life is, in the words of Trueman, “nauseating” (54) [e.g., Luther was anti-Semetic - res2]. There are a number of factors at work in Luther’s statements about the Jews, but one of them had to do with his anthropology as it was aimed at “law.”

Luther starts the disputation by examining the role of God’s law. The foundation is laid in the first two theses, which propose that the law of God is indeed salutary and good but that it is not able to advance human beings toward salvation (thesis 1), and that good works are even less capable of achieving that end (thesis 2). These theses summarize Luther’s new theological convictions, which had emerged as a result of his immersion in he writings of Paul in the immediately preceding years. God is righteous and his law is an expression of his holy character, but human beings are incapable of making themselves worthy in his sight.

The next pair of theses draws epistemological conclusions from this foundation: human works appear attractive but are actually “likely to be mortal sins” (thesis 3). Luther means here that human works seem to us to be worthy of God’s acceptance but are in fact as filthy rags before him. There is a disconnect between our perception of their merit and the reality, which points toward the moral nature of human knowledge. The same is true, in reverse, of God’s works, which appear sinful to human beings but are actually meritorious before God (thesis 4).

Thesis 5 is, on the surface, a quite confusing statement: “The works of men are thus not mortal sins (we speak of works which are apparently good), as though they were crimes.” Luther’s own published explanation of this thesis is that mortal sins, those which damn us before God, are not what we might think—outrageous acts such as adultery or murder—but rather any acts, even those which seem good, that flow from a sinful heart.

Luther is both deepening the understanding of what constitutes sin and at the same time pointing to the profound epistemological corruption to which human beings are subject. We might say that he is emphasizing that the theologies we create for ourselves are false in that they fail to understand the seriousness of the fallen human condition. This is reinforced in thesis 6, which declares that the works God does through human beings are not meritorious (pp. 58-59).

But the inner conflict of the self, which characterizes so much of the old perspective, comes through in Luther’s theory that we are simultaneously righteous and sinful, and here is Trueman’s summary:

There is also a sense in which all Christians are people divided against themselves: clothed in the righteousness of Christ and yet always striving to justify themselves by their own righteousness. That inner conflict is part of the very essence of what it means to be a Christian in a fallen world this side of glory (71).

He says it more forcefully in a later chapter but it gets to the core of justification’s existential reality for Luther and deserves to be included here:

Fear and terror are the products of the law, the inevitable result of that tendency within all of us to be theologians of glory, who wish to approach God on our own terms and thus find ourselves confronted with the terrifying God of perfect righteousness and holiness (129).

Luther’s approach was in a way self-protected for if you deny this sketch is your own experience, you are either not a Christian or you are trapped in self-righteousness. When Krister Stendahl’s famous essay about the introspective conscience was published many saw the old perspective for what it was more clearly — but Stendahl’s point was that this was Luther and this was Luther against his world but it was not Paul nor Paul against his world. On this new perspective hooked its anchor and sought to pull the whole out of its footing.

I have always had an ambivalent attitude toward Luther — I love some of what he accomplished and taught and I despise some of what he accomplished and taught. I am “suspending” all my thoughts about Luther as much as I can as I read this fascinating and well-written introduction to the person and thought of Martin Luther by Carl Trueman. The book is called Luther on the Christian Life: Cross and Freedom.

Rebecca Trotter - A New Fundamentalism

A New Fundamentalism

http://theupsidedownworld.com/2011/10/20/a-new-fundamentalism/

by Rebecca Trotter

Oct 20, 2011

I, Rebecca Trotter, hereby declare that the time has come for a new form of Christian fundamentalism. It is my belief that this new fundamentalism is needed in order to preserve what is most sacred and true to Christianity against assaults from without and within the Christian church. Although there is freedom in Christ which allows for a variety of ideas and understandings to be held by those who follow Jesus, there are certain fundamentals which all believers must adhere to according to scriptures. As such, I nominate the following bible verses to be considered literally true by all believers and defended against all challengers:

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’This is the first and greatestcommandment.And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” -Matthew 22:37-40

If anyone says, “I love God,” yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. And he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother. – 1 John 4:20-21

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is notproud.It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with thetruth.It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. – 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. – Matthew 5:43-48

the LORD said to Samuel, “. . . The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” – 1 Samuel 16:7

Do not be afraid of any man, for judgment belongs to God. – Deuteronomy 1:17

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.In this way, love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment, because in this world we are like him. 1 John 4:16-17

And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. – Micah 6:8

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.You are my friends if you do what I command.I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name.This is my command: Love each other. – John 15:12-17

“‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’” – Matthew 25:34-40

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect. – 1 Peter 3:15

“By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” – John 13:35

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1 Peter 4:8

If you agree with this (admittedly partial) list of fundamentals for Christian life, please join me in promoting a New Fundamentalism. Pass this list around. Link to this post. Tweet it. Put it up on your facebook page. Email it. Let’s take a stand for our faith and the fundamental, unchanging truths that must be preserved and acted out if we are to call ourselves people of God!

Woman, Why Are You Weeping?

Woman, why are you weeping? {when your kid becomes Episcopalian}
http://www.amypeterson.net/journal/2015/2/23/woman-why-are-you-weeping-when-your-kid-becomes-episcopalian

Amy Peterson
February 23, 2015

Dear Woman -

That’s what the angels said to Mary Magdalene at the tomb.  Dear Woman, why are you weeping? they asked.  

She wept because Christ was dead and hope was gone.

She turned from the angels.  She thought he was the gardener.  Woman, why are you weeping? He asked it, too.  

She wept because she didn’t understand, yet.

---

Dear Woman -

I saw you at church that day, sitting two-thirds of the way back on the left hand side. You were sitting next to your daughter, who is a student at the evangelical university where I work.  You were visiting her, and her church; your cheeks were wet.

Later I asked her about it.  My mom thinks I’ve lost my faith, she said.

I understood.  We attend an Episcopal church. Twenty years ago, most of the Christians I knew thought there was little true faith to be found in the Episcopal church, what with its rote prayers and female priests and politically liberal congregations. I understood, too, because I’m a mother, and I am beginning to see how impossibly fraught with emotion and responsibility and prayer and vulnerability it is to watch over your child’s spiritual formation.

Dear woman, I have thought of you most Sundays over the last few months. I've wondered what -if anything- I could say to put your heart at ease.  I know your daughter well, and I know her to be one of the most thoughtful, intentional, mature and spiritually grounded students I’ve worked with.  I also know a little something about what it means to grow up evangelical and what it means to move towards the Anglican tradition.  I can’t speak for all Anglicans or Episcopalians, but I can tell you from my own experience what it means and what it doesn’t mean that I’ve been confirmed in this church.

It doesn’t mean that I’ve rejected the authority of Scripture.

This is how we used to say it, growing up: "That church has female preachers- clearly, they don't believe the Bible!" While it's true that I've changed my mind about the place of women in church ministry, that hasn't happened because I chose cultural relevance over Scripture.  That change came slowly, and it came through careful study of Scripture. (Like this, or this.)

You may have heard that the Episcopal church's position on gay marriage or evolution or Iraq or any number of things shows that we don't respect the Bible.  But don't believe that until you talk to us about it.

We read aloud from the Old Testament, the Psalms, the New Testament, and a Gospel every Sunday.  I'm guessing that's more Scripture than is listened to in most non-denominational churches on most Sunday mornings. We have a high view of Scripture.

It doesn’t mean that I have stopped believing in Jesus.

Episcopalians are basically universalists (or so I've heard).  They believe all religions are the same, that all paths lead to God.

But every Sunday we recite the Nicene Creed, something Christians have held in common since 325 AD.  Part of that creed reads:

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,

the only Son of God,

eternally begotten of the Father,

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made,

of one Being with the Father.

One Lord.  One.  The only Son of God. We believe in Jesus.

(Read the whole Nicene Creed.)

It doesn’t mean that my prayers are rote and meaningless, that I believe in magical incantations, or that I worship the Book of Common Prayer.

Someone asked that once - why do we worship the Book of Common Prayer? She thought that when our rector walked down the aisle to read from the gospels, we bowed toward the Book of Common Prayer he held.  But it is a Bible he carries down the aisle.  We bow toward the gospels, humble in submission to the words of Jesus (see above: high view of Scripture's authority).

I love the liturgical prayers.  They are not the only way I pray.  But I've found that they instruct me, they form my soul, they shape me in ways I want to be shaped. They give me words when I don't always know what to say to God.

It doesn’t mean that I believe in transubstantiation.

But I do think there's something to be said about the Real Presence of Christ in the wafer and the wine. And there is something to be said for the way it nourishes me every week.  I love to take the Eucharist every week.

It does not mean that I have lost respect for the churches of my youth.

It does mean that my Sunday worship has a physical form.

One student at our church said it this way:

"In Desiring the Kingdom, James K.A. Smith puts forth the idea that humans are driven more by the desires in their guts than by the ideas in their minds. He encourages physical practices in worship to guide the direction of desires.

Since reading this article and book, I am aware that I have trouble making my mind focus on the readings or the sermon during church; however, when my whole body is called upon to take part in the Eucharist, I seem to wake up to the divine presence in the room."

We are not just minds and hearts and souls; we are bodies, too.  Kneeling, sitting, standing, moving up to the altar for communion -- these motions train our bodies in how to respond to God.

It does mean that I am seeking a long, enduring tradition within which to situate myself.

It does mean that I think the tent is wider than I used to think it was.

The older I get, the less I know, the more mystery I embrace. The less likely I am to build clear walls diving who is in from who is out. That doesn't mean I can't say anything about what is true (see Nicene Creed, above).  But it does mean that I am willing to say with St. Augustine, "In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity."

One of those "non-essentials," for me, is mode of baptism.  I do believe in infant baptism, but it's ok if you don't.  You're still welcome here.

(Here are some more of my thoughts about the value of a wide tent.)

It does mean that my children have a spiritual home.

An early memory: our church is meeting in a rented space, a school building.  It is a small, non-denominational church.  My Dad leads the music. The six or so kids run wild around the building when the service is over, playing spies and hide and seek. It feels like home, the most comfortable place in the world.

I see my children having this exact experience at our Episcopal church now.

It does mean that I want a church that is intergenerational.

I want to shake hands with the little old ladies and hold the babies. I want my own children in the pew with me for at least part of every "big church" service.

It does mean that I want a service that is not sensational, flashy, or particularly “relevant”. 

I can be entertained anywhere. At church, I do not want to be entertained.  I do not want to be the target of anyone's marketing.  I want to be asked to participate in the life of an ancient-future community.

It does mean that I want coffee and donuts every Sunday.

Actually, the donuts I could take or leave, but the time shared over food every Sunday, ever Seder, every Mardis Gras, every Chili supper... I couldn't do without it.

It does mean that I like a short homily.

Let's be honest: I like that the sermon is not the main thing.  I can get biblical and theological instruction anywhere nowadays.  I can’t get the Eucharist or the community anywhere.

It also just means that I live in a small town.  Not every denomination is represented in this prairied part of middle America.  It doesn’t necessarily mean that the Episcopalians are the people I agree with most.  It isn’t about agreement, exactly.  It’s about rooting yourself to a people, saying that you are willing to take not only the good from them but also the bad.  It’s about where you pray best.

At least, that’s how Preston Yancey explained his movement towards Anglicanism in his memoir Tables in the Wilderness. (Maybe you’d like to read this story of a young person moving slowly from the Baptist tradition to the Anglican?) Another book that helps explain the movement toward liturgy in the Gen X and Millennial kids is Robert Webber’s Evangelicals on the Canterbury Trail (I also like his Younger Evangelicals).  You might like this blog postabout the Episcopal church, this one from another student at our church, or this one from an Assemblies of God pastor who became Anglican. If you want, maybe another day I’ll write about the books that led me to the Anglican Tradition.

But for now, dear woman, turn around.  See your daughter.  Don’t you see Christ in her, in the words she speaks and the way she serves?  This isn’t death: this is new life. It just looks a little different.

With love,

Amy

Subverting the Norm III

 Subverting the Norm III

Political Perspectives on Postmodern Theology & Church Practice

https://subvertingthenorm.wordpress.com/presenters-2015/

What is Subverting the Norm?

SUBVERTING THE NORM is a three-day event that brings together pastors, theologians, philosophers, church practitioners, researchers in religion and all those interested in exploring the relationship between postmodern theologies and church practice. Some of the questions we’ll consider at the third Subverting the Norm include:

Is postmodern theology and religious practice insufficiently political, at least insofar as it plays out in academic and church circles?

Are religious collectives and churches contributing to a new and distinct approach to socio-political transformation? Or do postmodern religious collectives and communal practices mimic rather than challenge the contemporary political, social and economic cultures they intend to avoid?

In what ways is the work of religious thought offered by postmodern theologies also a work of political thought?

Can postmodern theologies open theoretical and practical possibilities for collective resistance and for social, political, economic and ecological transformation?

Why do so many strains of the postmodern religious conversation (death of God theologies, postsecular philosophies, radical theologies, and emergent church practices) – despite emphases on the other – tend to be dominated by white male voices that are usually from significant privilege? And what might these postmodern theologies learn from theological traditions that more often place questions of power and politics at their centre, such as liberation, feminist, queer, and postcolonial theologies?

And, finally, if established churches and collectives are to be faithful to the revolutionary event that gave birth to Christianity, how might they be informed by such approaches to political theology?

Interactive learning tracks related to ministry, liturgy, worship, preaching, community organizing, art and much more will be offered.

Interested in presenting? Please check out our Call for Presentations.

A DISCLAIMER ABOUT THEORY & PRACTICE (for the inquiring minds who want to know)…

At Subverting the Norm, there tends to be a fairly strong emphasis on the notion that theory is practice. To borrow the words of Subverting the Norm keynoterNamsoon Kang:

[W]e should recognize the significance of theological discourse as public discourse that affects the lives of people in a concrete way. People’s participation in the theological discourse can distort or transform their identities and understandings of self, the world, and the Divine. Therefore, theological discourse is neither merely a matter of interpretation of the tradition, the scripture, or doctrines, nor a matter of transmitting inherited religious identities. Theological discourse can be, in and of itself, a form of identity and solidarity. Feminist theological discourse, for example, has transformed identities and established solidarities especially among women. It did not just present the interests of women whose identities they fixed in advance. Feminist theological discourse created both an arena of discourse among women and a stronger voice for women in discourses that were male dominated. The solidarity formed among women and men of conscience had to do with the capacity of this theological discourse to bridge the concerns of personal life and the public institutions and culture.

Theological discourses function in various ways as sites of contestation and resistance, of forming new religious and personal identities, and of building solidarities. Theological discourses that theologians produce, disseminate, and teach in academia are not simply objective interpretations and neutral reflections on the world and the church in it. Instead, theological discourses are productions of and for the world and the church that we live in. Stereotyping theologians and academics as those residing only inside ivory towers; bipolarizing theology-ministry, theory-praxis, knowing-doing; or differentiating academism from activism overlooks the significant functions that theological institutions and their theological discourses play for their constituencies, the students they educate, the church in which they interact, and the larger society to which they communicate. Theological discourses are the epistemological ground for educating students of theology who work and will work for the world and the church in it. Theological discourse contributes to the deconstruction of the old and the constant reconstitution of the new religious identities; to new understandings of the self, the world, and the divine; and to a new vision for an alternative world and one’s commitment to a more just world… Theological discourses could be the grounds upon which religious practitioners, believers, students, activists, or academics center their practice of belief and their love for the world.

Select Bios

John D. Caputo

John D. Caputo, the Thomas J. Watson Professor of Religion and Humanities Emeritus at Syracuse University, is back for his third appearance at Subverting the Norm. He is a hybrid philosopher/theologian intent on producing thoughts which circulate between philosophy and theology, short-circuits which deny fixed and rigorous boundaries between philosophy and theology. Caputo treats “sacred” texts as a poetics of the human condition, or as a “theo-poetics,” a poetics of the event harbored in the name of God. His past books have attempted to persuade us that hermeneutics goes all the way down (Radical Hermeneutics), that Derrida is a thinker to be reckoned with by theology (The Prayers and Tears of Jacques Derrida), and that theology is best served by getting over its love affair with power and authority and embracing what Caputo calls, following St. Paul, The Weakness of God. He has also addressed wider-than-academic audiences in On Religion, What Would Jesus Deconstruct?, and Truth. His highly-anticipated and much-heralded The Insistence of God: A Theology of Perhaps was released last year.

Katharine Sarah Moody

Katharine Sarah Moody (PhD Religious Studies, Lancaster University, UK, 2010) is an independent scholar working at the intersection of philosophy, theology and the study of lived religion. She is particularly interested in the generative relationships between radical theology and emerging Christianity. Her most recent post was Research Associate in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Liverpool, where she worked as part of the Philosophy and Religious Practices Research Network, and she is currently seeking funding to study the political potential of religious practices that draw on ‘the theological turn’ in continental philosophy and ‘the turn to Paul’ in political philosophy.

Her books include Radical Theology and Emerging Christianity: Deconstruction, Materialism and Religious Practices (Ashgate, forthcoming 2015); Post-Secular Theology and the Church: Truth, Tradition, Transformation? (Wipf & Stock, forthcoming); A/Theism: A New Kind of Christian as A New Kind of Atheist (Wipf & Stock, forthcoming); and Intensities: Philosophy, Religion and the Affirmation of Life (Ashgate, 2012; co-edited with Steven Shakespeare). She will be one of the keynote speakers at the 2015 Association for Continental Philosophy of Religion conference, ‘Political Theology: The Liberation of the Postsecular?’ (July 10-12).

Peter Rollins

Peter Rollins is a provocative writer, philosopher, storyteller and public speaker who has gained an international reputation for overturning traditional notions of religion and forming “churches” that preach the Good News that we can’t be satisfied, that life is difficult, and that we don’t know the secret. Challenging the idea that faith concerns questions relating to belief Peter’s incendiary and irreligious reading of Christianity attacks the distinction between sacred and secular, blurs the lines between theism and atheism and sets aside questions regarding life after death to explore the possibility of a life before death. Peter gained his higher education from Queens University, Belfast and has earned degrees (with distinction) in Scholastic Philosophy (BA Hons), Political Theory (MA) and Post-Structural thought (PhD). He is the author of numerous books, including Insurrection, The Idolatry of God, and The Divine Magician. He was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, currently lives in Los Angeles and will die somewhere as yet not known.

An Apocalyptic Jesus - Numbering Christian Interpretation, Part 2

Constantine's Vision

"In this sign you will conquer"

 or

"By this Cross conquer"

- Emperor Constantine's vision

October 28, 312 ad

Wikipedia - In hoc Signo Vinces

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_hoc_signo_vinces

In hoc signo vinces (Classical Latin: [ɪn hoːk ˈsɪŋnoː ˈwɪnkeːs]; Ecclesiastical Latin: [in ok ˈsiɲɲo ˈvintʃes]) is a Latin phrase meaning "In this sign you will conquer." It is a translation, or rendering, of the Greek phrase "ἐν τούτῳ νίκα" en toútōi níka (Ancient Greek: [en tóːtɔ͜ːi níkaː]), literally meaning "in this, conquer".

The Greek Symbol Chi Rho

Constantine's commemorative coinage

Wikipedia - Chi Rho

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chi_Rho

The Christian Christogram
of Chi-Rho

The Chi Rho (/ˈkaɪ ˈroʊ/) is one of the earliest forms of christogram, and is used by some Christians. It is formed by superimposing the first two (capital) letters chi and rho (Χ - Ρ) of the Greek word "ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ" (Christos = Christ) in such a way as to produce the monogram. Although not technically a Christian cross, the Chi-Rho invokes the crucifixion of Jesus, as well as symbolising his status as the Christ.

The Chi-Rho symbol was also used by pagan Greek scribes to mark, in the margin, a particularly valuable or relevant passage; the combined letters Chi and Rho standing for chrēston, meaning "good." Some coins of Ptolemy III Euergetes (r. 246–222 BC) were marked with a Chi-Rho.

The Chi-Rho symbol was used by the Roman emperor Constantine I as part of a military standard (vexillum), Constantine's standard was known as the Labarum. Early symbols similar to the Chi-Rho were the Staurogram () and the IX monogram ().

* * * * * * * * * *

Depiction of Constantine fighting his Roman foe Maxentius at Rome’s Milvian Bridge.

Background by Dan Graves {In Context}

In AD 312, the Roman Empire is up for grabs. Its previous emperor, Diocletian, divided the realm between two senior and two junior emperors, but the complex arrangement has collapsed. The successors are at one another’s throats. Young general Constantine, son of Constantius, one of Diocletian’s co-emperors, has military successes under his belt, but now he faces a formidable veteran with a larger army and a better strategic position. What shall he do?

Constantine realizes that he needs help from a power greater than himself, but who or what? He has his doubts about the traditional Roman gods. He prays earnestly that the true God, whoever that may be, will “reveal to him who he is, and stretch forth his right hand to help him.”

He does not know it yet, but that prayer will change the course of Christian history as well as of western civilization. Later he will tell his friend Bishop Eusebius the incredible story of that hour. When Eusebius reports it in his history, he admits it is hard to believe.

What happens that is so hard to believe? Constantine suddenly sees a bright cross of light emblazoned against the noonday sky and upon it the inscription: “In hoc signo vinces” —“In this Sign Conquer.”

It brings Constantine the assurance he needs. He accepts this as the answer to his prayer and orders his soldiers to inscribe crosses on their shields. Encouraged by his vision in the heavens, he hurls his troops against his rival Maxentius at Rome’s Milvian Bridge. Surprisingly, Constantine is victorious. Maxentius is among those who drown in the Tiber.

The Chi-Rho with a wreath symbolizing
the victory of the Resurrection,
above Roman soldiers, ca. 350.

Afterward Constantine does not forget to whom he owes his victory. For close to two hundred and fifty years, since AD 64 when Nero initiated violence against it, the Christian church has been a persecuted minority in Roman lands. Only a few years earlier, between 303 and 311, it suffered through Diocletian’s savage “Great Persecution.” Now Constantine issues orders that the Christian church is to be tolerated just as other religions are. Although he does not make Christianity the official religion of the empire, Constantine bestows favor on it, builds places of worship for Christians, and presides over the first general church council. He becomes the first emperor to embrace Christianity and will be baptized on his death bed—waiting so late for fear his duties as emperor might cause him to sin after he receives the solemn rite, blotting out its efficacy.

Writing Constantine’s biography, Eusebius will describe him as God’s gift to a suffering church. His Greek account will give the quote simply as “Conquer by this.”

For the first time in its short history, the church can worship and grow without constant fear of deadly persecution.

- Dan Graves, {In Context}

https://www.christianhistoryinstitute.org/incontext/article/constantines-cross/

For further references to Constatine - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantine_the_Great

Sculpture of Constantine the Great in York, England: "By this sign conquer".

* * * * * * * * * *

The Symbol of the Cross and Its Meaning

What does the symbol of the Cross mean? What did it mean to the early church? To the pre-Catholic church? To the Catholic, Protestant, and Eastern Churches of Christ to come after the Reformation?

Overall, the symbol of the cross is a symbol of mystery. We know it as God's "paschal mystery" in reference to God "passing over His people" in order to protect them by His sacrifice in Jesus using both the Old Testament concept in Exodus on the eve of Israel's departure as well as to the New Testament image in Christ-on-the-Cross atoning for our sin.

In essence, the paschal mystery of Christ refers to His passion (that is, His life and life's ministry), death, and resurrection, and by these accomplishments signifying the completed work of God the Father whom sent His Son in the power of His Spirit to make atonement for the fallen world of man.

Moreover, Catholic, Anglican, and Orthodox Christian churches celebrate this mystery through the season of Lent culminating on Easter. It is further remembered and celebrated at every Eucharist (or Communion) event on Sunday which is also known as the Pascha of the week.

Ultimately, the Pascha of Christ is a symbol of grace and peace as much as it has been used as an iconic symbol of war and violence as begun by Constantine when taking the Christian symbol of the cross and making it a political symbol of conquering his enemies in a bid for power from Rome.

In the Old Testament under the Law of Moses we read of the Jewish people implementing a "Law of Measures" in Exodus 21.23-24:

23 But if there is harm, then you shall pay life for life,

24 eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot,

25 burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.

But no less is this concern for civil justice not also demonstrated throughout human societies as symbolized by the more modern icon of the Scales of Justice hung in the balances waiting to being meted out between men with one another, their community, and with other societies.

Throughout church history we read of the church's violence to each other and to other societies based upon its understanding of the commandments of God as given through Moses. A theology that reflects not God but the violence set in its own heart. Begging the question why God would say this or why early Israel so long for this institutional mandate of civil justice?

Was God speaking to Israel in order to give them a baseline of civility between one another? Did Israel wish to be like the other nations of the land around them in its infancy? We could go round-and-round on this question but nonetheless, the civil institutions of Israel were first laid down in the book of Exodus.

The Myth of Violence

It is the myth of violence that war, brutality, and fighting can put back together again a kind of civil peace between human beings. In the story of Samson we see this sorrowful cycle of revenge repeating itself again and again in the ragged prophet's life as it spins out of control eventuating in his heart-rending death.

Into this myth enters Jesus who comes to yet another mountain of God to speak a new law to His people not unlike Moses' institution of the Deuteronomic law. A law that would remove the cycles of violence man has committed himself to by a greater law. A law of peace and forgiveness. We call this new set of laws the "Sermon on the Mount" as taken from Matthew chapters 5 - 7.

Mt.5:38 "You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’
39 But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right
cheek, turn to him the other also. 40 And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic,
let him have your cloak as well. 41 And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him
two miles. 42 Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would
borrow from you."

In Jesus' new words He is saying that concretely, or pragmatically, there can be no end to violence. The only end to violence is through forgiveness and the turning away from any further violence. And it is in this response that the mystery of redemption begins to work its power like leaven kneaded into a loaf of bread. It doesn't solve any one problem one-for-one but addresses the whole nature of the problem of relationship between individuals, communities, and nations.

"But Justice Matters!" Yes, this is made very clear in Scripture. Both old and new. But in Jesus' new words we are not to resist evil but to accept it. To not continue in the myth of redemptive violence as a thing that can bring peace and enclave to the world. That His cross will not be a thing, a symbol, or a mindset for violence but a symbol to be known for its grace and forgiveness. It is by this kind of cross that we conquer together as crucified communities of our Lord.

What is Jesus doing? Is He challenging the bible? Is He challenging both Jewish theology and later Christian theology to come? Is He being too naive when saying that "By this New Torah that I give to you on this New Mountain of God I have become both a New Moses to you as will as a New Law of God?" Yeah, verily, He does.

So then, why did God institute Law in one era and Love in another? Did His people mis-hear Him? Have we divided the Scriptures up in error? Not if we reflect on the actions of those believers in the New Testament who, upon hearing Jesus' new law of love and forgiveness are immediately revitalized in their redemptive walk with Yahweh. How many accounts do the Gospels list of a forbidden woman coming before Jesus to wash His feet with her hair to the unfavorable sentiments of many? Or of Jesus forgiving a woman of prostitution before a condemning Sanhedrin wishing to stone her according to their law? Or of Jesus healing people on the Sabbath as a holy day consecrated to the Lord? Or of tax collectors dropping their collection rolls to take up their call to follow Jesus as his new disciples of redemption and healing? Too many.

Moreover, Jesus lives out His own words. To His betrayer Judas He says, "Friend, I forgive you. Go do what you must do." Or to His Father-God in the Garden of Gethsemane, "Lord, not my will but thine be done." To those hated and despised by society He calls friend. To His servant Peter He removes the sword from his hand and repairs the severed ear of the temple servant so that he might continue serving once more without mar or wound.

Does this cause the stricter interpreters of God's Torah emotions of rage and violence? Certainly. So much so that we come to see these scribes and pharisees not as God's servants but as their own masters committed to power and prestige and religious delusions of self-atonement (we call such works of the flesh legalism). They become like the dogs and vipers that Jesus speaks of who turn upon the True Servant of Yahweh to beat, humiliate, and kill the Holy One whom they vilely hate. Initiating yet again the dictum of "violence begetting violence" not understanding that it is but a pitiful human redemptive myth for putting things aright when undone by sin.

And so we must observe, "Jesus wasn't simply a good teacher but a g-r-e-a-t practitioner of God's Word. But does love and forgiveness actually work? If by the evidences of a torn temple curtain opening up the Holy of Holies to all men, or by the confessional submission of a Roman Centurion before the foot of Jesus' cross, or by the many testimonies of betrayed and martyred men, women, and children, then yes, we must clearly say so. The teaching of Jesus was to powerfully, practically embrace God's willful redemption and reclamation of mankind in a way not like any other way. That it is the most complete, most unifying, most significant action that we as God's people might commit towards one another every moment and every day of our lives.

To take up Jesus' Cross and follow Him is not to bear sword and shield in hand to slay our enemies declaring rightful power in God's name but to stay our hands and hearts and bow down before our King in obedience to His will of grace, peace, forgiveness, and hope. It is by this kind of Cross that we conquer and no less. The Cross now becomes a place of personal redemption and transformation and no longer an vacant symbol of sin, revenge, and violence.

May then the Cross of Jesus become a symbol of love and transformation. A symbol of renewal, revival, and resurrection. May it no longer be used by the church to commit works of hatred towards others by exclusion, meanness, bullying, or of ill-will, oppression, and unkindness. Let the Cross of Christ become our Paschal Cross of Resurrection bourne in the power of the Holy Spirit unto the deep satisfaction and great good will of our holy God who Himself is our Paschal Peace. Amen.

R.E. Slater

March 2, 2015

Dedicated to the martyrs

of flesh, hopes, and dreams

become as Christ-bearers

and Testimonies of Light

to a new Torah of Shalom

granting grace and peace

by El Shaddai's infilling

Shekhinah-glory, the

Paschal mystery of  God,

whose holy presence

would dwell amongst men.

continue to -

Numbering Numbers

An Apocalyptic Jesus - Numbering Christian Interpretation, Part 1

An Apocalyptic Jesus - Numbering Christian Interpretation, Part 2