Thought for the day

6 I’ve lived far too long
     with people who hate peace.
7 I’m for peace,
     but when I speak, they are for war.
Ps 120:6–7 (CEB)

around the web

Welcome to the first 2020 look around the web from my viewpoint. Perhaps you'll find something of interest, perhaps not. But at least enjoy the ride...

You aren't paranoid; you really are being followed! And not only that, frequently you are paying for that questionable privilege. This article has all the juicy details. By the way, I started using Jumbo and was surprised by how many things I had failed to set on my privacy settings. I'm usually pretty strict, but it caught some I didn't even know existed. Highly recommended.

Meanwhile, the reaction to the Christianity Today editorial has been strong from the pro-Trump team. Michael Bird has some good insights; here's a small snippet:

Now I understand how pro-Trumpers can say, “Hey, he’s no Mother Theresa, but he’s effective, he’s appointed conservatives to SCOTUS, and he’s our bodyguard protecting us against the pathologically Christian hating types in the Democratic party.” I get it, I don’t agree, but I get it. But for Grudem to say in effect that Good Policies = Good Man is morally blindsided and sets a dangerous precedent.

I’ve never liked liberal theology because it produces a God without wrath who brings men and women without sin to a kingdom without judgment thanks to the ministrations of a Christ without a cross [that’s from Niebuhr]. Yet I fear Grudem’s Trumpology because it presents a God with partisan mercy, who expects men and women to ignore their moral compasses, to call the wicked good and the good wicked, in order to keep themselves positioned in the court of earthly power.

And John Hawthorne, an evangelical sociologist has some good thoughts:

It must be noted that most evangelical churchgoers may not be paying any attention to these conflicts. They are happy to go to their Sunday Services and worship Jesus in song and word. Emma Green had a great interview with former head of the National Association of Evangelicals Leith Anderson. He argues that evangelicalism is about faith and not about politics. Emma tries valiantly and compassionately to get him to address the conflict therein, but he never gets there. Sarah McCammon interviewed a pair of Southern Baptist pastors (note: lots of evangelicals are not Southern Baptists!) on Saturday’s Weekend All Things Considered. The pastors argued that while there are broad social conflicts, people “at the level of the pew” don’t experience that division.

It needs to be recognized that the privatization of faith is what has allowed a public political stance that is largely divorced from deep theological insight. If we ever need serious work on political theology, it is today. Even though it runs the risk of causing short-term discomfort within local congregations, it would create a more healthy body of Christ as it interrogates matters of politics and public policy.

But don't look for that to happen anytime soon. Discomfort means a possible budget shortfall in the church building program, or that the megapastor won't get his million dollar bonus, or something like that. Besides, who wants to think? That's hard work. Nope. Keep the bread and circuses coming and everything will be fine. Except it won't.

Take a look at John Fea's blog. He's been following the Trump phenomena closely since 2016 and is quite insightful. Here's a recent sample:

Would a non-college educated factory worker in the Midwest who claims the name of Jesus Christ think that racism, misogyny, nativism, the degradation of one’s enemies, and lying are moral problems? Wouldn’t any Christian, formed by the teachings of a local church and the spiritual disciplines (as opposed to the daily barrage of Fox News), see the need to condemn such behavior? What does social class have to do with it? Shouldn’t one’s identity in the Gospel and its moral implications for living transcend class identity?

For those who are lamenting disunion in the church, I have another question: Shouldn’t the church be an otherworldly, counter-cultural institution that finds some unity in the condemnation of immoral behavior in the corridors of national power? Or should we take our marching orders from the divisive, class-based identity politics of Donald Trump?

And long-time pacifist/activist/theologian/seminary professor Ron Sider chimes in, citing Christmas, urging Christians to look at the bigger picture:

Christ has chosen the church as the place where his reign is to become most visible and powerful. And that means that Christians must live and promote biblical values about truth, justice, freedom, life and peace both in their personal lives and their political decisions. It also means that no matter who wins elections or what politicians do, God’s reign continues to take shape on this earth. When politicians are at their worst, defying Christ and promoting evil, Christ’s kingdom can still advance. (Although when people who claim the name of Jesus join evil politicians, God’s kingdom suffers serious setbacks.) And when politicians are most sympathetic to biblical values, they are still a mixed bag of good and evil, and everything they do is less important than proclaiming the gospel and living as Jesus’ new redeemed body of believers.

OK, one last look at this and then we'll move on to other things. Righting of America takes a look at a defense of Trump written by a Jack Graham, senior pastor of Prestonwood Baptist Church, Plano, Texas. I have to agree with the final paragraphs of the critique:

I am not calling into question Rev. Graham’s sincerity because I have no doubt of his sincerity. I am sure he is a very serious and sincere Christian. What I don’t recognize is the Christianity he represents. I am convinced that the Christianity represented by the evangelical defenders of President Trump is in fact not Christian. It is not shaped by the gospel but by the secular political philosophy of evangelical leaders. It is an “Americanized” faith that has faith in the USA, in “Make America Great Again,” in a false patriotism that excludes dissenters, in a greed-infested idolatry of wealth, in an ignoring of the teachings of the prophets and especially of Jesus.

This version of Christianity no longer knows how to recognize idolatry. It exists in an atmosphere of fear, nostalgia, and a deep-seated desire to have the power to control others (John Fea, Believe Me). Pulling no punches, Stanley Hauerwas concludes that churches identified with the “church growth movement” are nothing more than paganism in disguise” (In Good Company: The Church as Polis, Kindle ed., 4).

What Rev. Graham defends is not historic evangelical faith, but a Trump evangelical understanding rooted in secular political power and wealth. Graham’s argument in behalf of President Trump represents just another example of the church and her preachers failing to take the radical good news of Jesus to heart and apply it to all of life.

Violence! Everywhere violence! Whether church or synagogue shootings, or drone attacks, it seems our society is addicted to violence. What's a Christian to do? The ReKnew blog takes a look:

If Jesus is Lord, we are commanded to renounce violence as a way of resisting evil. We renounce the violence of evil men (it’s always men right?) and we renounce the cycle that so easily ensnares our sanctified minds. Fear of death corrodes our ability to imagine a faithful response beyond full participation in the cycle of violence. Death, and the fear of it, are signs that God’s good world is not as it should be. We are not as we should be.

Jesus entered our world of violence and lived into a story that contradicted the lie that death is in charge. Jesus saw reality the way God saw it; he could see something deeper than our collective human experience and conviction about death. He proclaimed this message and invited us to live into it. Therefore, we must resist the pull to live into a false narrative of retribution and heroic violence. We must resist the story death proclaims by grieving its widespread acceptance and condemning it as vanity. We resist death by taking up arms of communal prayer, self sacrifice, lament, and gospel hope, but never with weapons of worldly means. Churches that use guns for self protection acquiesce to the spirit of this age.

If we begin to accept armed protection as a legitimate means we deny the One we claim to follow. By accepting armed protection, we move into a false narrative that says self protection, even at the expense of taking life, is compatible, justifiable, and reasonable with enemy love. We deny the very story that has changed the world, and we live as if the new has not come and as if the old is not already passing away.

And what is a posting on this blog without mentioning books?! Here are a pair: Wade Burleson on the value of books and reading. He takes special aim at television, but I would include binge-watching in that category.

But, be careful about setting a goal of XX books this year, as this person discovered:

Finding myself in the middle of a book I never want to end is among the greatest joys of reading. I live for the desire to finish a book in one sitting, and the competing desire to slow down and make the pleasure last. Sadly, I robbed myself that pleasure this year. I blew through everything I read, including books I would’ve dragged out for weeks just to live in their worlds a little longer.

Today’s habit-happy productivity culture advocates for setting measurable, attainable goals. Finishing what we start is considered a victory. But our reading lives shouldn’t depend on filling in a Goodreads progress bar. That’s because reading isn’t just any old habit to track.

Yep. I've never really measured how many books I read each year. I've also never felt bad about abandoning a book that didn't interest me. I've also been wrestling my way through some books for a few years. For example, I'm about 2/3 through an introduction to cognitive linguistics that I started over 3 years ago. By the time I finish it, I'll need to go back and read it again!

OK, that's it for this week. Good reading!

Violence and Erasmus

Yet if speech is linked to godliness, why do so many churchmen advocate the use of force, its opposite, to bring men to God? Erasmus acknowledges the contradiction inherent in the use of violence to achieve religious ends. Christ, Erasmus states, never resorted to violence: “Christ, as he preached to all, coaxed no one to himself with flatteries or human promises, nor did he compel anyone with force, although he was omnipotent.” (Ausgewählte Werke, 254, lines 7–9).—Humanism and the Rhetoric of Toleration, page 48

Are we practicing atheists, or not?

That's basically what it boils down to in article (which you really should read; it's only a few paragraphs long):

If we are convinced that our violence is responsible to secure our future, then our actions will tacitly witness to the death of god in our culture. This atheistic tendency has been prevalent because of our fears since the destruction of the World Trade Towers. The results have been disastrous. The more we prepare for war, the better our weaponry, the more vigilant we become, the more we engage in “preemptive” war or targeted drone assassinations, the more we live the illusion that we can create peace by violence and in turn leave a wake of destruction that mirrors the very destruction we fear. Because peace and security through violence are political impossibilities, our wars are no longer limited political engagements but ideological crusades, and that should concern all people of good will. (A good dose of Niebuhrian realism would be beneficial.) Even more should it concern people of faith who have been told to love their enemy because this love is the nature of God who loved us while we were enemies. Before we can ask the question, “what would you do if” in a hypothetical situation, it would behoove Christians to ask: How do we best witness to this God who loves us while we were enemies? The cross and resurrection are the inconvenient answer to that question.

It's a slippery slope, but not the direction you think...

Those who live in the mountains are most aware that every mountaintop has more than one slope. The purpose of this book is to alert people of faith and others of good will of another slippery slope on which we are living today and it is far more dangerous. It is a huge threat to our children and grandchildren because we as a society are obediently following the advice and counsel of the idols of power and deadly force. We are living as prisoners of the principalities and powers and have forsaken the ways of the loving God who has redeemed us and placed our trust in sophisticated weapons to “guarantee” our security and preserve our nation’s most cherished ideals. We live on this slippery slope because we as a people find it almost impossible to shake free of our fascination with and devotion to violence in all its forms. We say, “violence has worked for us in the past, why search for other ways to solve our human conflicts?” That is the slippery slope that scares me.—America and Its Guns: A Theological Expose, pages 197–98

<idle musing>
And one of the front-runners is a great fan of violence, and I don't hear any of the other ones denouncing violence as an option...slippery slope, indeed. And it leads straight to more violence and death. : (
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Ambrose on violence

There's a great post over at Missio Alliance taking a look at what Ambrose (340–397 AD) thought about violence and Christianity. By all means, read the whole thing; he doesn't offer any easy answers because there aren't any, but he comes down on the side of nonviolence. Here's the final paragraph:

Ambrose reminds us well: God loves all people equally, and we are called to do the same. This central conviction prevents us from finding any easy answers to questions of guns, war, and self-defense. However Christians ultimately settle on these particular issues, we are compelled to constantly return to peace and non-violence as central Christian values that lie at the heart of the Gospel message of a compassionate and self-giving God. These convictions should be protected, and privileged highly, as we make moral judgments; as Ambrose does.

Tolle! Lege! as Augustine (one of Ambroses's converts, by the way) would say.

Human sacrifice

Between 82 and 84 Americans, ten of whom are children and youth under eighteen, are killed every day by guns in America and nothing is done to prevent them. Who or what does our nation consider to be of greater value than they? Are they slain for altruistic or benevolent ends like the ancient human sacrfices of Peru? Do their deaths put us in touch with our God? Do they give confidence to our society? Between 82 and 84 persons will die today by gun violence and on and on into unknown tomorrows, because our society does not consider preventing their deaths to be of great value. For many in the Gun Empire, the victims do not merit the most basic protection.—America and Its Guns: A Theological Expose, page 128

<idle musing>
Especially ironic is that so many who are against any form of gun control claim to be pro-life. Now, I'm pro-life; I think abortion is murder. But I also think war is not a Christian option; I don't believe that violence should be a Christian option—ever.

But to be pro-life means that you need to be pro-life from the womb to the grave. You need to put things in place to nurture the child, not just say, "Abortion is murder, so let's change the laws." That's not pro-life; that's anti-abortion. Pro-life says, "What are the factors that cause people to want an abortion?" And then begins to dismantle those.

Mind you, secular people can get on board that wagon, as well, but it is my contention that Christians are especially able to. We understand that the ways of this world are inimical to God, so we should be ready for obstruction. But we bring those walls down via prayer and prayerful activity steeped in the love of God. And we remember that God loves everyone, not just the person who agrees with us (but that's another rant for another day!).
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A compelling temptation

Leaders in faith communities must understand the compelling temptation to feel powerful and in charge. The violence of today’s movies and video games, dramatic explosions, the pin-point accuracy of an air-strike from a jet or helicopter, an attack by a predator drone guided by computers thousands of miles away, a firefight by the marines in Afghanistan seen in full color on our television screens, have an immense trickle-down attraction for citizens who feel at risk because of the violence in their communities that is reported daily. Watching a war on television or the evening news convinces many that they too need weapons for protection in suburbia or the inner city. Violence begets violence is not a rumor; it is a reality. Violence done anywhere escalates violence everywhere.

Those who place their faith in weapons often ask derisively, “Can a nation or a home be too secure? Can we be too safe?” The appeal of redemptive violence is the spirit of the age in which we live and it affects all humanity. It is virulent in the United States as it impacts our foreign policy, dictates what our national budgets will be, governs the military industrial complex and Gun Empire, inspires our media and even televangelism; it fuels our national myth that both our homes and the world can be secure with enough firepower.—America and Its Guns: A Theological Expose, page 68 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
Broken record time: If violence is seen as an option, it soon becomes the option of choice and then becomes the only option...

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27 NIV (emphasis added)
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The early church on military service

Great post on the early Christian view on war over at Christianity Today's Books and Culture section. Read the whole thing, but here's a brief summary:

Indeed, there is very little basis in the texts for describing the early Christian view as "divided and ambiguous." There are no authors who argue that killing or joining the military is permissible for Christians. On these questions, every writer who mentions the subject takes essentially the same position. Some pre-Constantinian Christian writers say more about these topics than others. Some do not discuss them at all. But to conclude from this relative silence or paucity of some surviving texts that other writers disagreed with the extant texts would be sheer speculation. The texts we have do not reflect any substantial disagreement. Every extant Christian statement on killing and war up until the time of Constantine says Christians must not kill, even in war.

I need to get that book The Early Church on Killing: A Comprehensive Sourcebook on War, Abortion, and Capital Punishment.

HT: Jim Eisenbraun

A Christian response (guest post)

This is a guest post by Daniel Bradley. He originally posted it on Facebook in response to my posting a link to the excerpt on Tuesday.

One of the most difficult aspects of Christianity—one with which Christians in every era have struggled (including myself)—is its wholesale rejection of violence in any and every form. Within the teachings of Jesus lies such an ethic of nonviolence and non-retaliation that it runs counter to the very grain of human nature and logic. It is an ethic that does not render evil for evil; it turns the other cheek. It’s an ethic that loves enemies until death and tells Peter to put away his sword. And, well, that simply doesn’t square with our natural instincts for self-protection/preservation.

But here is where the beauty of the Christian faith shines: Once a person says, “I am crucified with Christ,” and names Jesus as “Lord,” the paradigm completely changes. What may be permissible in the eyes of the State may be wrong for the Christian. Take the Second Amendment for example. Within the scope of Jesus’ teaching, we can find no place for answering violence with violence. Many have attempted to dilute this by means of appealing to self-defence (claiming that self-defence is not violence), but that’s just the problem. Jesus never defended himself; when he was reviled, he didn’t revile back. Nor did he prevent the martyrdom of the Apostles. On the contrary, Jesus stated that he was sending them out as sheep among wolves. He basically promised them they would die! Stephen didn’t take up a sword when being stoned, and neither did Paul and the other of the earliest followers take up arms to defend themselves or one another. This is one of the gut punches of the Gospel: laying down the sword, and really laying it down for the sake of Christ. Can I truly say I am loving my enemy when I’m putting a bullet in his head??

Yes, I honestly grapple with the scenario of an intruder breaking into my home to kill me and my family, and with the question of what would I do. To some there’s no question at all – they would shoot to protect themselves and their families. Yet, the real question to ask is, “What would following Christ look like in that moment?” Of course, my natural instincts say, “Fire away! Load with lead and aim for the head!” But that’s not what Jesus did when he died, and that’s not what the early Christians did when being fed to the lions in the Circus Maximus or burned as human candles in Nero’s Pleasure Garden. We must all face the fact that someone is going to suffer because of *our* convictions, no matter where we stand on the issues. People make their choices, and others will feel the impact of those choices in some form or degree – whether we are pacifists or we happen to side with those who opt for war or their gun “rights.” As Christians, however, we should want to side with Jesus no matter what the cost, and teach our families what it means to be one of his disciples. This means not holding one’s life precious to oneself, but rather entrusting our existence to the one who gave his life for us, and following after his pattern. Far from being a cakewalk, this is a very courageous, daring, and yes, dangerous way to live. But it *is* the way of Christ. In short, as we discuss these matters, we have to carefully articulate what “You shall not kill” and “Do not repay evil for evil,” and other such statements of nonviolence mean. Sadly, American culture (and even Americanized Christianity) is in such a state that these questions and considerations have difficulty even being articulated, because we have lost the ethical framework in which they can be accommodated. Christian ethics are quickly tossed out to sea and drowned in the bloody waters of fearmongering and war propaganda with a firm, religio-political strangle hold.

Finally, let me say that many professing believers speak concerning this issue more as Americans than they do as Christians, and like James Spinti said, that’s the idolatry—dare *I* say apostasy-- of it all. Christians are foreigners in a foreign land, a culture within a culture, and we must act, speak, and think like it. Just to the extent that Christians allow their attitudes and actions to be contoured by anything or anyone other than Jesus, it represents a misalignment with the Christian faith. In short, just because it is in the American Bill of Rights doesn’t mean it is Christ/ian. “Religious liberty,” an Americanized version of “freedom,” and the wielding of our American “rights” have, in my estimation, done great harm to the Christian faith in America, to where it is no longer intelligible to itself. Instead of being a prophetic voice in our culture, Christians have capitulated to the spirit of the age and have relied on politics and the “arm of flesh” to carry/legislate their moral agendas. American Christians nowadays, especially right-wing, conservative Evangelicals, are guilty of a kind of nationalistic, civil religion which blends God and country, and basically (and blindly) underwrites the American war agenda so long as our leaders tip their hats to Israel. Allegiance to Jesus has become equated with certain political parties and convictions, to the point that if some were asked “What denomination are you?” they would answer, “Republican.” All this to say, it is not Jesus. It represents a departure from His teachings, and is nothing short of idolatry. The second we appeal to Caesar to justify our convictions is the second we reject Christ’s kingship.

What do you think of first?

I was reading in Psalms this morning, specifically Psalm 51, and it occurred to me: What is the first thing you think of when someone mentions David and Bathsheba?

Do you think of the adultery? Or do you think of the death of Uriah the Hittite, her husband?

I'll warrant that 90% of American Christians think of the adultery first. In fact, I'd bet that a goodly percentage don't even know the murder of Uriah! But back to Psalm 51. There's no mention of the adultery in the psalm, aside from the superscription, and even there it just says, "after he had been with Bathsheba" (CEB). But there is mention of violence:

Deliver me from violence, God, God of my salvation, so that my tongue can sing of your righteousness. Ps. 51:14 CEB

I think the fact that we don't think of the death of Uriah says a lot about the casual acceptance of death and violence in our culture. Just an
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The Christian and violence

Great post by Preston Sprinkle—actually it's a paper he recently presented at ETS—entitled "A Case for Christocentric Nonviolence" (he doesn't like the word "pacifist"). Here's a small snippet, but do read the whole thing

If Jesus does not walk out of a grave and sit at the right hand of the Father, then we have no business loving our enemies. Unless Christ defeats evil by submitting to violence—by dying rather then killing—and rises from the dead to tell the tale, I will most certainly destroy my enemy before he destroys me. Without the death and resurrection of Jesus, all forms of nonviolence, I believe, are uncompelling.

To be clear, I believe in Christian—or more explicitly, Christocentric—nonviolence. Christocentric nonviolence says that we should fight against evil, we should wage war against injustice, and we should defend the orphan, the widow, the marginalized, and oppressed. And we should do so aggressively. But we should do so nonviolently.

In other words, Christocentric nonviolence does not dispute whether Christians should fight against evil. It only disputes the means by which we do fight. (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
Amen and amen!
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There really are two different ways

Roman politics is about power and domination and might and force and coercion and the sword. The politics of Jesus is about sacrificial love for the other even if that means death from the sword. Lording it over others is the way of Rome; serving others is the way of Jesus. The lords of the empire are for Jesus lordless lords. Those are two stories at work in two politics, and the politics of Jesus counters the politics of Rome.— Kingdom Conspiracy, page 61 (emphasis original)

<idle musing>
And unfortunately, even as Christians, we tend to lean toward Rome : (
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Avoid it!

When we are persuaded into the depths of our heart that what we believe to be true is the Truth, we want this for all others. When we want this for others, we are tempted for our witness to become coercive, manipulative, and sometimes to resort to violence. Jesus opposed the ways of the Maccabees and the Zealots and offered instead of the symbol of the sword the symbol of the cross. The way to “rule” was the way of service; the way to love was with the basin and towel. Kingdom mission must resist all temptations to use coercion and violence to accomplish God’s will.— Kingdom Conspiracy, page 57

What was the sin of Massah?

What, in Jesus’ eyes, might the community of believers whom he has called to be “sons of God” actually do that would be the functional equivalent of Israel’s sin at Massah? The answer to this question seems clear enough given all that I have said about Jesus’ understanding of what being faithful “sons” entails. The community would be rejecting the call from Jesus that it should regard as “of God,” and therefore be bound by, the principle of nonretaliation and especially the constraint to love the enemy. For, as we have seen, a posture of nonretaliation and the willingness to love the enemy are together the epitome and the essence of the way that the community of Jesus’ disciples has been charged to show itself faithful to the God it acknowledges as Father. This is what Jesus declares the disciples must commit themselves to if they are to be acknowledged by God as “sons.” This is the way of God that “this generation,” the antitype of the community Jesus tries to form, refuses to accept as the path God has ordained for those of Israel to follow.—The Disciples’ Prayer, page 159

<idle musing>
Strong words, aren't they? And ones that the church, at least in the U.S., needs to hear. We are called to be ministers of reconciliation. And we spew hate all too easily. Lord, forgive us! And keep us from putting you to the test!
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The path of the "true child of God"

Jesus is presented not only as calling those who aspire to be true sons of God to imitate God specifically in his displays of indiscriminate mercy to the “wicked” but also as declaring that conduct to be worthy of the office and title of a “true child of God.” To be called and appointed by God to this office and title, one must acknowledge that the path of nonviolence, nonretaliation, and, preeminently, active love and concern for the enemy is the path “of God."—The Disciples’ Prayer, page 83

Peacemakers

It is interesting to note that, as H. Windisch has pointed out, Jesus’ view of who and what a peacemaker is stands in stark contrast with the view, current in the Hellenistic world, of what this office entailed. Those who were to establish peace, security, and economic welfare were expected to do so only for their own people and through the conquest of their enemies.—The Disciples’ Prayer, page 82

<idle musing>
And what has changed? What do "peace-keeping missions" do today but enforce our view? Why is it that the politicians are always "defending American interests" if not because they believe this? The pax americana is the same as the pax romana; if you don't support the regime, it isn't very peaceful. The more things change, the more they remain the same...<sigh>
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Non-retaliation and the Christian

Practicing peace is therefore a form of bearing witness to the gospel in the most difficult circumstances, the expression of the teaching and example of both Jesus and Paul to refrain from retaliation and to love one’s enemies. By obeying and imitating both their apostle and their Lord in this regard, believers would become a living exegesis of the gospel of peace. Such peaceful relations with outsiders would include the rejection of violence toward them, apparently even in self-defense, for as Richard Hays has put it, “There is not a syllable in the Pauline letters that can be cited in support of Christians employing violence.” Non-retaliation, for Paul, is not an option for peacemakers in Christ; rather, it is the way of Christ.— The Death of the Messiah and the Birth of the New Covenant, page 190

Miscellaneous wanderings and musings

It's been a while since I posted stuff from elsewhere—not that I don't read it, I just fail to post it. Usually what happens is that I mark something and then fail to post it until it is so old that it doesn't make any sense. Well, for some reason this week brought more than the usual number of "must reads," so I'm linking to them. Enjoy!

Brian Zahnd asks how the Church is different from America. He challenges you to list 5 ways and then to his own amazement comes up with a dozen. Then he sums it all up:

Don’t get me wrong. I love America. I really do. It’s my home. For the most part it’s a fine place to live. But it’s not where my faith or my supreme allegiance lie. America is not the “last best hope of the world” (as claimed by Lincoln, Nixon, Reagan, Clinton, Bush, Obama). The first and last and only hope of the world is Jesus Christ and his kingdom. My supreme faith and allegiance is reserved for Jesus and what he is building. I am a revolutionary Christian. And I am willing to suffer for it.

Amen! Sounds like good theology to me. That shouldn't cause too many Christians a problem, should it? Well, apparently it does, as a certain chaplain found out recently. Apparently if you preach on forgiving your enemies as a chaplain in a Christian school, you can anger some important donors and get demoted. There are lots of links I could post here, but this one is a nice summary (as always, avoid the comments after the story!).

As you know two movies came out recently. Selma, the story of one of the 20th century most influential Christian leaders, Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., who led a non-violent movement that changed the course of American History forever. And American Sniper, the story of the most deadly Navy SEAL sniper in American history. Selma has made 29-30 million so far. American Sniper made over 103 million in the first 4 days. Gives you an idea about who our heroes are. I don’t think it is an under-statement to say that our culture is addicted to violence, guns, war, revenge and retaliation. Unfortunately, so are a lot of Christians.

You can read the full transcription of the sermon here. He was demoted from VP of Community Formation and Chaplain. Now he is Chaplain. My question? How long before he is Unemployed? He has experienced what a friend of mine refers to as the right boot of fellowship...

By the way, "Beckum is currently on leave from the campus until March 13. A statement given by the president’s office said that Beckum was 'provided paid administrative leave for rest and an opportunity for the transition to occur.'” (source). As I said, how long before he joins the ranks of the unemployed?

How about something a little different now? A good (Lenten) sermon over at Faith and Theology

In the early 1950s a man named Clarence Jordan founded an interracial farm in Georgia called the Koinonia Community, which at the time was a very foolish and dangerous thing to do. He asked his brother Robert, a lawyer, to act as counsel for the farm. “Clarence,” Robert said, “I can’t do that. You know my political aspirations. If I represented you, I might lose my job, my house, everything I’ve got.”

“We might lose everything too,” Clarence replied.

“It’s different for you,” Robert said.

“Why is it different?” And Clarence went on to remind his brother how, when they were baptised, they were asked: “Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Saviour?” “What did you say, Robert?”

Robert paused, and then said, “I follow Jesus – up to a point.”

“Could that point by any chance be – the cross?” his brother challenged him.

“That’s right. I follow Jesus to the cross, but not on the cross. I’m not getting myself crucified.”

“Then,” Clarence said, “I don’t believe you’re a disciple. You’re an admirer of Jesus, but not a disciple.”

What about me? Am I an admirer or a disciple? What about you? John Michael Talbot had a song back in the 1970s with the line, "When you are ensured this world's friendship, it's easy to live." (I can't find the full lyrics on Google...)

Meanwhile, Roger Olson has a good post on being an Egalitarian Complementarian. Sound like an oxymoron? Maybe, but what he says resonates with me. Read the whole thing, but here's the concluding paragraph:

We need to overcome our polar oppositions and recognize both man and woman as uniquely gifted by God, equal in every way, interdependent, and yet really different ways of being human.

And, finally, a review of a book that I just put on interlibrary loan request after reading the review:

If the truth is that our very first relationship when we come into being is one that is not reciprocal, we can understand why a pregnant woman might, at least some of the time, experience her encounter with the newone [his word for a fetus/unborn child] as burdensome and onerous. That, of course, is to forget momentarily how she herself first emerged, but, more important, it means that we have a decision to make. Shall we regard the burden of this asymmetry as an indication that human beings should be independent and self-sufficient? Or should we see in it an intimation of the truth that, from the start and always thereafter, we are dependent on each other? A phenomenological analysis of human emergence suggests that “the secret to the meaning of human life — our need of each other — is given away by its newest members.”

Interesting, to say the least. Something for everybody to hate in the book by the sounds of it; he's attacking the philosophical foundations of western individualism—both right and left won't stand for that! And I love his word "newone" to describe the life that is forming in the womb. (With thanks to Scot for the link)

The new covenant

Jesus identifies the cup as “the new covenant in my blood” (22:20). In this statement and his acceptance of suffering just noted, Jesus is forswearing the use of violence to bring about the kingdom of God; he is prepared to shed his own blood, rather than that of his enemies, to accomplish God’s plan for salvation, for peace. By sharing his body and his blood, his very self in its crucified reality, he invites his disciples to share in his mission and his fate. “There is ‘no communion’ between partaking of the bread and cup, sharing in the body and blood of Jesus, and drawing the sword.” [Swartley, Covenant of Peace, 180] The new covenant is coming about through nonviolent means, by Jesus’ accepting rather than inflicting violence.— The Death of the Messiah and the Birth of the New Covenant, page 180