Categories
Biblical Studies Scripture Spirituality Theological Hermeneutics

Job: "Behold, These are the Fringes of His Ways"

M82, IMG SRC= http://hubblesite.org/gallery/album/galaxy/pr2001008e/Chapters 26 and 27 of the book of Job provide a sort of pivot in the text.  In his responses to his friends, Job’s sense of God’s ineffability seems to expand, while his sense of his ability to demand answers from God seems to shrink.  Job continues to maintain his righteousness, to be sure, and in Chapter 27, he even seems to echo the retribution theology of his friends.[1] But in Chapter 26, Job confronts his friends with the vastness of God’s creation:

He stretches out the north over empty space
And hangs the earth on nothing.
He wraps up the waters in His clouds,
And the cloud does not burst under them.
He obscures the face of the full moon
And spreads His cloud over it.
He has inscribed a circle on the surface of
the waters
At the boundary of light and darkness.  (Job 26:7-10 NASB)

Even these wonders, however, only hint at God’s greatness:  “Behold,” Job says,

these are the fringes of His ways;
And how faint a word we hear of Him!
But His mighty thunder, who can
understand?  (Job 26:14)

The picture above is of Messier 82, a galaxy in Ursa Major.  I’ve observed it through my big telescope in a dark sky, and it appears much like the picture — a long, thin, fuzzy patch of light.  M82 is a “starburst” galaxy, meaning it contains regions that produce new stars.  In fact, M82 contains 197 different star-forming regions, each of which is as massive as 200,000 of our Suns.  At the center of this galaxy, there is a black hole that is as massive as 30 million of our Suns.  It also contains an object that seems to move at four times the speed of light and that sends out radio waves unlike anything else ever discovered in the universe, which scientists remain unable to identify.

So that fuzzy patch of light in the telescope is a galaxy of billions of stars, that is actively spewing out millions of new stars, with a gaping black hole at its center and a warp-speed unidentified object traversing its bounds.  And all of that is just a small part of “the fringes of His ways.”  I look at the Hubble photograph or through my telescope and it is as though I’m the sick, bleeding woman who reached out to touch the fringe of Jesus’ robe in the hope she would be healed (see Matthew 9:20).

The “fringe” in Matthew 9 refers to tassels that Jewish men wore to remind them of the Torah.   The word used in Job 26:14 is ketzot, which refers to the edge or far end of a thing.  The “tassels” in Numbers 15:38 are tzitzit, an unrelated term, so there is no direct linguistic parallel.  Still, I like the parallel concept of the “fringe” or “far end” as a reminder of God’s distance.  It is an infinite distance that God nevertheless allows us to glimpse and touch, if only at the fringe, through His creation, His Law, and His incarnation in Christ.  Just that glimpse and touch are enough to settle the mind and stop the bleeding, even if — or maybe because — we know that what is glimpsed and touched is just a distant, unformed edge that recedes towards a horizon beyond comprehending.

 

 

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[1]  The text of these chapters is difficult to reconstruct, and some scholars think portions of these speeches in fact belong to Job’s friends and not to Job.  But in canonical context, these chapters are assigned to Job, and we can read as though Job is the speaker as a form of theological hermeneutic.

 

Categories
Biblical Studies Spirit Spirituality

Paul: Love … All Things

I’ve been reflecting lately on the Apostle Paul’s “love chapter,” 1 Corinthians 13, particular on verse 7.  Love, Paul says, “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (NASB).  What is the force of the term “all things” in this powerful statement?  In Paul’s original Greek, the phrasing is beautifully poetic:  πάντα στέγει, πάντα πιστεύει, πάντα ἐλπίζει, πάντα ὑπομένει (panta stegei, panta pisteauei, panta elpizei, panta hypomenei).  Notice the alliteration in the repetitive use of “panta” (all things) and the rhyme of the active verb endings (ei).  I can imagine Paul dictating this phrase to his amaneunsis, getting more excited as he repeats each panta.  Try reciting it out loud:  agapē panta stegei, panta pisteauei, panta elpizei, panta hypomenei.  Let it sink deep into your soul:  there is nothing to which love fails to respond with patience, faith, hope, and endurance.  Nothing.  All things — panta, panta, panta — love regards with patience, faith, hope, and endurance.  Panta, panta, panta agapē .

Categories
Poetry Spirituality

The Gold in Havilah

The Gold in Havilah

I’m told there’s gold in Havilah,
that Stretch of Sand just downstream from Eden,
and good gold at that.
This makes no sense to me —
What use had Adam for gold,
and why would God have planted it there?

Perhaps God knew this gold would come in handy one day,
to pave His city, His New Jerusalem,
and to make fancy tools for his Angels.

But I might find this ostentatious:
Angels waving golden measuring rods, skating over such refined streets,
showing off the jeweled crystal walls to house-hunters
following in their fragrant trains (there was onyx and incense in Havilah too, they say!)

Still, I’ve heard there is a Garden there, as well,
springs and water, trees and green leaves and cool shade,
mangoes, I suppose, and every kind of medicine plant,
and open gates
and Light.

Maybe when I see it – Oh, let me see it! –
I’ll find a spot among the gum trees and goldenrods
where I might sit with Adam a while,
skipping onyx stones across the river,
and wondering about Havilah.

Categories
Poetry Spirituality

Organ Reverberations, in the Chapel

Organ Reverberations, in the Chapel

Three silver strands braid a chord
Stretched out along the floor
Twined about the pews
Draped over the pulpit
Looping up the buttresses
Strung across the vault
Hanging in the nave
Wrapped around my body
Suspending me above the Earth.

Categories
Poetry Spirituality

Poem: Playground Basketball, Durham

Playground Basketball, Durham

Black arms unfold
sinews taught with glistening skin.
The man strains for the globe, draws breath
and flies.

The woman, waiting to be seen
in painted jeans and gold-braid hair,
She is a queen, a mighty queen.
This is her court,
someday she’ll judge the Seraphim.

But today the Angels’ flaming swords and unfurled wings
flash above the rim of Earth;
the man falls to the ground, and dies
the woman feels the pain of birth.

Categories
Spirituality

Ten Minutes to Live

I’m doing a writing workshop at the Duke Reconciliation Institute this week with Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove.  As an exercise, today we had fifteen minutes to write what we would say if someone found us lying in a ditch with 10 minutes to live.  Here’s what I came up with.  Interesting to see what floats up in a snap exercise like this.

In the end it is all about grace.

This birth was a grace.  You don’t ask for it.  Maybe you don’t want it.  But it was given and it was a gift, it was very good.

It hurts to be born but you don’t remember it.  Your mother remembers, but she doesn’t remember the pain.  The pain of birth is a grace.  Forgetting the pain of birth is a grace.

Learning, gaining knowledge and wisdom, is a grace.  One thing you learn is that you have to fight to learn, you have to wrestle to become wise.  The people who want to teach you, they mean well, maybe some of them teach well, maybe some of them, maybe all of them, want to make you them.  So you have to grow up, to see your teachers as human beings, like you, to appreciate them, to become a teacher yourself.  And then you have to learn to repent of what you’ve presumed to know, the knowledge of good and evil you thought you owned, and learn unknowing.

Time is a grace.  What is time but space God makes for creatures like us?  It flies away like dry grass in the breeze.  There is no past — it is gone; there is no future — it is not yet; there is no present:  look, and it is past.  There are only nows proceeding in succession, windows onto the timeless source, catchlights in the eye of God.

Death is a grace.  “Except a seed be planted in the ground and die, it will not bear fruit.”  This birth and death of mine may be the one thing I do that no other person in the history of the universe will do.  Yes, Death, the big-D of Death, is a curse, the curse.  It’s no-thing, that big-D of Death, it’s absurd.  So this death we die must produce life.  This is the meaning of the Resurrection.  Life from death, new creation from formless void.

Let grace be all in all.

Categories
Cosmos Science and Religion Spirituality

An Interview on Faith and Science

I was asked by some folks at Regent College to give some thoughts on the Pastoral Science cohort I was blessed to participate in at Regent.  Below are the questions they sent me, and my responses.

1. What drew you to the program in the first place? How did you feel about science before the program?

I’ve always loved the elegance of good scientific work. When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronomer, and my parents gave me a subscription to Astronomy magazine. Unfortunately, I stink at math, so I ended up focusing on work involving words — law and theology! But to look up at the night sky out in the country, and to have a sense of what the contemporary natural and physical sciences have taught us about the vastness of the universe, has always enchanted me.

Yet, even with this sense of wonder, I was struggling to reconcile what that natural sciences say about life and evolution with my faith tradition and what I thought the Bible said. In fact, I was in the midst of a really difficult period in which these questions were at the forefront of my mind. For a time, I thought “intelligent design” theory was the answer, but I quickly realized that much of what the loudest ID advocates were saying was just unconvincing culture war noise. I had never really bought into young earth creationism, and this (among other things) became a significant point of tension for me with some of my fellow church members and spiritual leaders. I was drawn to the program at Regent because I trusted the faculty involved to offer Biblically and theologically grounded insights incorporating all truth wherever it is found, and because I hoped to connect with other people seeking to develop informed and faithful perspectives.

2. How has this cohort experience impacted your work in ministry after the program?

It has been a deeply formative experience that has shaped my work and studies. Most significantly, it allowed me to connect with some wonderful people who continue to support me as a writer, teacher and scholar. These folks prayed for me and supported me as I developed an adult education class for my local church, which I titled “God in Creation” (here is the class website: http://tgdarkly.com/godincreation/). That class had the potential to become contentious, even though I had the full support of my church’s leadership (another gift!), because I did not shy away from looking at the questions from all angles. During one class session I specifically discussed different models for thinking about origins issues, and a group of very strongly young earth creationist folks showed up, loaded for bear. It was nerve wracking, but resulted in good and respectful conversation rather than strife or division. I couldn’t have been at the center of this sort of thing without my cohort’s support. Today I continue to work with some members and leaders of my cohort on faith-and-science projects — including working on my doctorate in theology!

3. How has this opportunity to develop your scientific knowledge impacted your own faith?

I am finally able — and it has taken a long time — to relax and simply enjoy and delight in and marvel at any truth the sciences are able to learn about the creation. At the moment, I’m particularly interested in paleo-anthropology (the study of human origins). This of course remains one of the more difficult places at which the natural sciences and Christian theology intersect, because it raises the question “who (if anyone) was ‘Adam’?” But since I’ve developed and continue to develop a more robust theological and philosophical framework, I don’t need to fear any empirical observations about humanity’s physical origins. These observations are simply part of the fascinating and ultimately beautiful story of God’s creative grace.

4. How do you see the science-faith dialogue being transformed as a result of this program or others like it?

“Transformed” is a difficult word! Let’s be honest — at the grassroots level, particularly in evangelical churches, confusion, fear and even hostility abound towards the observations of the natural sciences about the age of the earth and the evolutionary development of life. It’s hard to compete with the animatronics at the so-called “Creation Museum.” But things are changing, and many mustard seeds of truth have been planted. A program like this one, which emphasized community, support, and ongoing participation, helps create patches of new growth. Over time, those patches will bloom and change the landscape.

5. What has hampered or hindered the dialogue around science thus far in the Christian context?

In the context of American evangelicalism, the context with which I’m most familiar, I think we are still trying to find a way past the opposite shoals of fundamentalism and modernism. Young earth creationism, with its fundamentalist theology and populist message, plays to a century’s-worth of fears about the modernist threat. There is just no possibility of “dialogue” in that framework.

On the other hand, the “mainstream” faith-and-science dialogue too often quickly becomes theologically vapid, if not sub-Christian. I heard a talk a few weeks ago from a theologian from Georgetown University, for example, who was a devotee of process theology. His “solution” tensions arising from the faith-and-science relation seemed to involve a wholesale rejection of Christian theology in favor of a god-being that evolves along with the physical universe as a sort of world-consciousness. Obviously, that wont do. And, there’s also no real “dialogue” in that framework.

I believe we need carefully worked out theologies that are able to absorb any empirical truth within the framework of historic Christian thought about the Triune creator-God and the incarnation and resurrection of Christ. In other words — the traditional Christian model of “faith seeking understanding,” undertaken with patience, charity, and depth.

6. One of the program goals is to address fears on this topic of faith and science; what fears did or do you have surrounding it? Or what fears have you encountered in others? How does this fear manifest itself?

I think there are two basic fears, which many people are even afraid to express: (1) Am I losing my faith? and (2) Does this mean Christianity isn’t true after all?

Like any fear, these fears can manifest themselves in defensiveness, hostility, posturing, evasiveness, denial, and all sorts of other unhealthy and antisocial feelings and behaviors.

7. Why is it important to be able to talk about science in a productive manner as Christians?

For me, this is a “Great Commission” issue. It is part of the “discipleship of the mind” — “taking every thought captive” to Christ and “offering an account” of the coherent truth of our faith. The modern sciences possess extraordinary explanatory power. The institutions of the modern sciences possess extraordinary cultural power. If the Church can’t explain how the Gospel coheres with what the modern sciences disclose, why should people take the Church seriously? In fact, I think this is a significant aspect of the secularization of Western society.

8. Can you give an example of any gaps between knowledge and practice of the integration of science teaching in a ministry context which you have observed? How do you address that now after participating in the program?

In my experience, people in the pews often have no idea that there are meaningful alternatives to hostility between faith and science. I’ve seen people respond with joy and relief simply because a teacher has modeled an open, non-combative posture.

9. John Templeton predicted that “Scientific revelations may be a goldmine for revitalizing religion in the 21st century.” Do you think he’s right and why so?

Honestly, I’m cautious about this statement. When you read through some of the articles in a publication like Zygon (one of the leading mainstream religion-and-science journals), the trend often seems to be to prioritize “science” in a way that defines “religion” away from any sort of historic tradition. You hear lots about an “emerging omega point” and so-on, but not much about the God disclosed in scripture and in Christ! And (to channel my inner Barth), I’m not so sure I’m interested in seeing a revitalization of “religion.” What I would like to see is the robustness of small-c catholic Christian faith — which alone, I think, is capable of giving a robust account of “science” in the first instance.

10. Most memorable quotation, phrase, or nugget of insight you took away from the program?

Something Prof. Ross Hastings said: “Theology is worship, and after that, silence.”

Categories
Spirituality

(De)(Re)Constructing the Blog

You may have noticed, dear reader, that I haven’t posted in a month.  It’s been a busy month, mostly filled with good activities.  I’ve also been pondering this blog — what it has been in the six or seven years I’ve been writing it, and what it should, if anything, be.  For better or worse, I’m an inveterate scribbler, and I want to keep this outlet open.  I hope that, at its best, it isn’t a space for foolish arguments, but rather is in some way helpful and edifying to some people.  It is, of course, just a blog, and should be read in that light:  not as anything final or authoritative, but merely the often disjointed and ill-formed thoughts of one person seeking to participate in the life of Christ in the world.

In that spirit, I’m making an effort to change up the blog a bit and to try something a bit more constructive and structured.  I’ve added five new categories, which correspond to the new Pages above.  My goal is to offer one post each week month in each of these categories:

βιβλία — reflections on the texts of the Hebrew and Christian scriptures.

φιλοσοφία – reflections on philosophy, particularly the Christian philosophical tradition of faith seeking understanding.

πνεύμα — reflections on spiritual life.

πόλις — reflections on political theology, law and culture.

φύσις — science and nature.

I hope some people will continue to read and enjoy; and I hope in some way there will be hints and echoes here and there of the presence of the Author of Life.

Categories
Spirituality

Eulogy for Poppop

Today is a sad day.  We are saying goodby to my wife’s grandfather, “Poppop,” who died on Sunday.  He was 93.  It’s also a day filled with peace and gladness.  Poppop is with his savior, and with Nana once again.

I always enjoyed hanging out with Poppop at family gatherings.  He loved to talk about the Bible and about theology, even though we were men of different generations, with different sensibilities.  In his own story, he was a classic 1950’s Plymouth Brethren guy.  Years ago he gave me his copy of Dispensational Truth, an original 1918 edition, with its beautiful poster-length charts of history from creation to the end times.  I cherish that gift.  If we ever got into it, I think he would have been baffled by my reading of Daniel, Revelation, and eschatology.  I’m not sure he would have been prepared to discuss the history or hermeneutical methods of Dispensationalism.

But we never got much into that, because it wasn’t that important to the kind of relationship we enjoyed.  We mostly talked about bigger things — grace, the puzzle of suffering, the prefiguring of Christ in the Old Testament (a Brethren favorite!), the importance of studying scripture diligently, the need for young men who are able to take leadership in the local church as teachers.  (Yes, young “men” — debates about women’s roles also weren’t on the radar screen of our relationship.)  I know that, particularly as he got older, Poppop could be somewhat irascible, stubborn and grouchy.  But not with me.  Most of all, he always encouraged me to keep at it, to keep studying, to keep serving faithfully.

I don’t regret at all the things we didn’t discuss.  I regret that, as he became feeble, I didn’t make more effort to visit him outside holiday gatherings.  I thought of doing that many times — just stopping by for a cup of coffee — and I never did.  My great loss.

But now this reminiscence is in danger of becoming too serious, which isn’t really suitable, because Poppop was a master of the stupid joke.  I do mean “the” stupid joke — he told the same one over and over again.  Yet I always laughed, and now I find myself also repeating it (it involves a child named “Pooping Dog” — enough said).

Most of all, my memory is of Poppop at the table, surveying his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren:  “isn’t it nice that we can all be together as a family.”  So one of my favorite parts of the Psalms seems appropriate as an epitath:

As for man, his days are like grass,
he flourishes like a flower of the field;
the wind blows over it and it is gone,
and its place is remembered no more.

But from everlasting to everlasting,
the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children’s children —
with those who keep his covenant
and remember to obey his precepts.  (Ps. 103:15-18).

Amen — it is so, let it be so.

 

 

Categories
Beauty of the Christian Faith Spirituality Theology

The Ocean of Orthodoxy

If I’m honest, I have to admit that the word “orthodoxy” makes me nervous.  It conjures a long history of violence and oppression — inquisitions, burnings at the stake, religious wars, bonfires of the vanities, anathemas and counter-anathemas, and the more subtle manipulations and exclusions of the various petty tyrants, troglodytes and buffoons who are stock characters in anyone’s experience who has lived in any branch of the Church for a while.

But if I consider it more carefully, “orthodoxy” in the best sense is like the sea.

My family has vacationed at the New Jersey shore for over forty-five years.  If I stand on the beach, at the edge of the sea, if I breath slowly and deeply, I participate with every sense in the beautiful, untamed life of this amazing planet.  Sunlight warms my face and illumines my gaze; sand and water scrub and cool my feet; moist, salty air fills my nose and lungs; the rhythmic surf washes over my ears and stills my mind.  I am contented with the givenness of this creaturely space, gazing on its boundless horizon, contemplating its incomprehensible lifespan, participating in the gift of fecund being.

The same is true if I come to the Creed in wonder, seeking understanding.  The reality narrated in the Creed, like the sea, is given, a gift.  It provides the grammatic, incarnational structure for contemplation of the incomprehensible Triune God, complete and at peace, creating, self-emptying in incarnation, giving fellowship and community, restoring, healing, re-creating and making things right in love.  It summarizes the experience of countless others who have stood at the shore of this magnificent sea, and invites me to participate in the very life of God — where the Father brings life from nothing, the Son speaks Wisdom to chaos, the Spirit hovers over the womb of the world.

This is why “orthodoxy,” in this best sense — the sense of the heart of a story shaped by the God who gave Himself on the cross — is a gift to be welcomed.  Here, I rest, I explore, I marvel, I am freed from my self to find myself in life beyond my self.  Here, I glimpse the simple unity of faith, hope, beauty, truth, and love.