“[T]he Christian community ought to function as a model of, a pointer to, what life will be like in the Eternal City of God. The church must be, here and now, a place into which the peoples of the earth are being gathered for new life.”
— Richar Mouw, When the Kings Come Marching In: Isaiah and the New Jerusalem.
Richard John Neuhaus has died. His book The Naked Public Square: Religion and Democracy in America had a formative influence on me years ago, his involvement with Chuck Colson in Evangelicals and Catholics Together was historic, and his journal First Things remains vital. In recent years I’ve become more critical of the neoconservatism that Neuhaus represented, but all of us who think and write and act on the role of faith in public life today owe him a debt of gratitude. RIP.
To be sure, God’s plan and our history are not identical. God’s plan consists of much more than what God chooses to reveal to us or what we are able to discern of it. Much of what we see appears to be the work of a concealed God, even at times a seemingly capricious God. In Martin Luther’s (1483-1546) colorful image, history is ‘God’s mummery and mystery,’ ‘God’s joust and tourney.’ History is ‘God’s theatre,’ in which the play cannot be fully understood until it ends and until we exit. To equate one act or actor, one speech or text, with the divine play itself is to cast a partial and premature jugment. To insist on one interpretation of the play before it ends is to presume the power of eternal discernment. To judge the play on the basis of a few episodes is to insult the genius of the divine playwright.
— John Witte, Jr., God’s Joust, God’s Justice: Law and Religion in the Western Tradition.
This little word puzzle has been found in various Roman ruins, including in Pompeii:
R O T A S
O P E R A
T E N E T
A R E P O
S A T O R
Rearrange the words, and you get this “Paternoster” (“Our Father”) cross form with “A” — alpha and “O” — omega at each tip:
A
P
A
T
E
R
A P A T E R N O S T E R O
O
S
T
E
R
O
Apparently no one is sure of its purpose. The early Christian use of symbols like this is fascinating to me. I wish evangelicals weren’t so stingy with symbolism. I guess one similar thing we sometimes use is the Christian fish on our cars.
In our first World Christian History lecture, Prof. Thomas mentioned the importance of women in the early church. No, this wasn’t revisionist neo-gnostic hooey — it was simply the role that widows and other women played in showing hospitality and spreading the gospel. This made me think of my mom. My mom is the paradigm of the “older woman” in Titus 2, who is able to teach younger people and set a good example. She tirelessly teaches Bible study groups with other women, and many have come to Christ or been deepened in the faith by her mentoring. She’ll stand with those first and second century women some day as true heroes of the faith.
I’m starting my first class today as a student at Biblical Seminary. I’ll be working ever so slowly on a Masters in Missional Theology. Hopefully God will use this to enrich my work as a law professor and in the local church, as well as to deepen and broaden my own faith. My first course is an online class in World Christian History. We started with this great quote:
“. . . All historically visible Christianities are partial manifestations of an essence that is never seen in an unmixed form, and can never be seen in its wholeness and entirely on earth. The ‘God’s eye’ view of the eternal of the Christian Church is just that. Every manifestation of Christianity is partial because it is always a composite. The churches never escape their social context and the value of their host society. So the Christian message and the Christian life always combine elements drawn from the ethos and assumptions of the age (which, of course, Christianity, in turn) help to shape.” Evan Cameron, Interpreting Christian History, pg. 86.
Nice.
“And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.”
— Matt. 6:12
“This makes us wonder if we really do want to pray that our debts be forgiven as we have forgiven our debtors. In truth we find it easier to forgive than to be forgiven. We do so because so much of life is spent trying to avoid acknowledging we owe anyone anything.”
— Stanley Hauerwas, Commentary on Matthew.