29 March 2015

Annunciatory thoughts on incarnation

On Wednesday last, it fell to me to give a homily on the Annunciation at a lunchtime communion service, it being 9 months before Christmas day. I had two possible tacks suggesting themselves to me. One was 'safer' -a line of thought about Mary as prototypical disciple: the first Christian; someone from whom we can learn something about following Jesus. The other tack could have been to ponder the nature of incarnation, time and space. I went with the former because I wasn't sure, in the end, whether I could manage to do the latter justice and be coherent about it in five minutes without having tried to put my thoughts in order more fully beforehand.

So... well I'm sure you could guess where this is going ... This is me trying to put those thoughts in some kind of order. I'm going to start where I had been thinking of starting with the homily in the midst of the Annunciation passage in the Gospel of Luke. (BTW, I tend to think a homily is a mini-sermon).
The angel said to her, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. [Luke 1:36]
That phrase "the power of the Most High will overshadow you" is evocative of Genesis 1:2. "Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters." It's not the words so much as the imagery. It makes an imaginal connection between creation and new creation. The conception of Jesus in Mary is being told in a way that alludes to the making of the cosmos. The creation of Jesus in her womb is presented in a way that invites us to think of it a bit like the creation of a world in the formless emptiness preceding the creative declaration "Let there be light": in the emptiness of a 'barren' womb the unformed is divided into form.

And yet, actually perhaps we should see the flow of analogy going the other way. We should rather see the creation in the light of the incarnation. This is built on the proposal that we should, with Barth and others, see God's intention from eternity to become part of creation, to be incarnate and share community with What God has made.
If this is so, and I have increasingly become convinced that it is, then we need to deliver ourselves from our instinctive ways of thinking about time. Because in this way of thinking about creation, incarnation is the first and primary 'cause'. In a sense, in the mind of God, the incarnation is the beginning of creation. This relativises time. We tend to think about time in terms of our experience of sequence: things follow on from one another and we tend to think about time as an absolute progress of sequence to which we are all subject and which is the same through all things. Sometimes we even think, in effect, that God too is subject to time, is within time.

Since Albert Einstein, over a century ago, we have understood that time is relative and not absolute. Time and space are dimensions of the same reality and are capable of affecting one another. In other words time is not some kind of absolute medium through which all else passes, it is itself a created 'thing' like (though not entirely like) space. So when we consider the creation of the world, we need to consider it being created with time rather than in time (I think that Augustine of Hippo said similarly). Time is a property of the created order, part of its way of being.

So we don't have to be committed to only thinking about the cosmos in terms of a sequentially-timely process flowing from big bang to whatever the end might be. We could consider a Beginning in the centre of spacetime (in as far as 'centre' means something in such a cosmos).
If we granted for the sake of argument and understanding for a moment, that the idea of multiple universes has something to it: that every time there is a decision or an 'it could go either way' moment, both/all possibilities are realised each in its own universe. The multiverse, then, would be a huge field of divergent possible-universes. If you imaiened them all laid out like a mosaic, and then traced a line over them to show/follow a particular storyline (timeline, perhaps) ... well that's what is being used in the plot of this Star Trek Voyager set of episodes, which has been edited into a synopsis here:
The plot of this group of episodes involves a particular race who have some ability to shift timelines. But they have to keep trying because different shifts may produce a relatively good outcome in their terms, but there are always downsides -sometimes catastrophic for their purposes. They aim to get a perfect outcome, but each time there is some 'fly in the ointment' and so they keep trying (and Voyager gets caught up in it). Watch for the screen on the ship showing a schematic of the timelines. What this race are doing, in effect, is starting with a teleology (aiming for a desired state of affairs [DSA] in the universe) and shifting timelines until it is achieved. In a sense this is a model of what I'm proposing in that the DSA becomes determinative, in a sense, of the storyline followed through the possible universes. It could be said that the desired state of affairs attracts the timeline to it

So we could start in what seems to us to be the middle. with the  incarnation and resurrection as the desired outcomes on God's part.Because, in this way of looking at things, God, who is outside of and determinative of spacetime, creates with the desired state of affairs at the heart of the creation, with the inflowing and outflowing time~ and storylines determined by that at-heart desired state of affairs. Of course, that DSA involves the creator becoming part of the storyline and inhabiting it, experiencing it from the 'inside', in an appropriate way. The historically tiny incarnation/resurrection timeline, although relatively short, actually has the effect of selecting the historical, evolutionary and archaeontological timelines that lead to itself.

I guess this comes out, philosophically, as some version of the best of all possible universes theory. It does, however, allow us to conceive of that theory in terms made possible and somewhat plausible by current scientific knowledge and theorising.

There are further avenues to explore on this. Among them are what this implies about agency and determinism and the eschatological implications if we are also seeing the incarnation/resurraction timelinette as in some way an inbreaking of God's future. I hope to return to these questions on this blog at a later date.

26 March 2015

Churchgoers keeping quiet on gay marriage

It's an interesting little window that this opens up into British Christianity. At first I was not sure whether the results of the survey were indicating that of the c.50% who held more 'liberal' views, 38% were quiet about it or whether it was 38% of the total surveyed Somehow the former seemed more likely. However, this paragraph in the report seems to indicate the latter.
A survey of worshippers across the main denominations, found that Christians were effectively evenly split on whether same-sex relationships should be considered sinful.But 38 per cent of those polled said that they believe churches should accept and affirm same-sex relationships but are reluctant to say so openly. Churchgoers keeping liberal views on homosexuality ‘secret’ - Telegraph
Now, what I find interesting is the implications about church life because 38% is a big proportion when we are considering something like feeling unable to express views. But when I think about it I can understand, I suspect, the dynamics. It's probably a bit like what I hear some Muslims saying about expressing less conservative views in Mosque influenced communities. That they feel that the religious discourse space is owned by the conservatives and that they do not feel sufficiently empowered religiously to gainsay the official statements. Perhaps because they don't have a sense that they may be more than a small minority allied with the sense that the tradition seems to favour the conservative interpretations and that those who hold those interpretations hold the influential positions by virtue of having been through the system and in position because they are entrusted with it.

I've also been inside systems where a particular line has been dominant and where it is difficult to speak a different perspective. Those who are already in positions of respect and trust by dismissing or even ridiculing, or perhaps even aggressing against 'unsound' opinions and maybe even people. This is a very strong signal to others in the community to discount or even take ostracisitive actions. This means that at the very least the ideas are discounted and quarantined and those holding them are dismissed or even ridiculed. All of which functions as a fairly effective social control.

The worrying thing, of course, is that it inoculates dominant perspective holders from considering issues that may actually be helpful for them in the longer term (whether or not they end up agreeing). All of this can be seen in the way that Steve Chalke was responded to by Evangelicals when he announced that he now considered that Scripture was not against committed lifelong-intended homophile sexual partnership. The gatekeepers of soundness denounced him and others picked up or reinforced this dismissal. Very few actually offered arguments that properly engaged with Chalke's arguments, many reiterated arguments which Chalke had shown to be less than conclusive.

All of which makes me wonder about whether we can work, as churches, on better ways of disagreeing. It seems to me that derision, abuse, dismissal and ostracism of people who disagree is not loving our neighbour as ourselves. I can scarcely think it possible that any of us, finding ourselves wishing -even compelled- to express a minority viewpoint or disruptive idea would want to be on the receiving end of the disdain or outright abuse that Steve Chalke saw (and I saw directed at him on Twitter and Facebook). And the consequence of that observation is that if we wouldn't want that ourselves, why do we think we have a right to pass it on to others?

More, we should ask ourselves how we would like to be treated given that we could be wrong: how should those who disagree correct us? Well, isn't that the way we should offer to correct others? All of which says that churches should be communities where we disagree humanely, with a desire for the good of the other and with a teachable humility because we could ourselves have something to learn. The 38% who don't feel able to say what they think are a testimony to us as churches that we still have a way to go on this.

15 March 2015

Why Christians tend not to see Mohammed as a prophet

 A question on a Christian-Muslim forum I am part of, from a Muslim:

What are the reasons why Christians do not believe that Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him was a of Allah?
My response was necessarily condensed (because it's on a forum where long answers are not best given in the interest of maintaining a dialogue. Longer pieces are generally best referred off list to blog posts or articles elsewhere.

I suspect a lot of Christians, on the basis that prophecy is a gift of the spirit (and if they are not among those who believe said gifts ceased to be bestowed once the NT canon was fixed) could entertain the idea that Mohammed might be, in some sense, a prophet. However, in the mirror-image of some Muslim claims that the NT must have been corrupted because it is interpreted as failing to confirm the Qu'ran and sunna, the same misalignment would be seen to disqualify (from a Christian point of view) at least some of the revelations attributed to Mohammed.
There is another potential difficulty (though I've never seen or heard it discussed): the means of revelation; by and large, revelations given by angels are attributed to the angel, not to the person who hears or sees them. A prophet is generally understood to have received the revelation directly themselves.
For those less familiar with Muslim and Christian perspectives in this area of consideration, some elucidations might be in order.

So first off, as I understand it. Mohammed, according to the story as I have heard it and read it, was meditating according to his practice in a cave when he was seized and held tight by an angel ("Jibreel" which is the Arabic for 'Gabriel') and told to "Recite" (the word Qur'an roughly translates as 'Recitation'). He then receives revelations over the next few years (I have always presumed that Jibreel was the continuing conveyancer, but I guess that could be wrong). Eventually these recitals were written down and put into order before the memorisers died out. 

I guess that it is Muhammed's role as the one who reveals the angel's words that attracts the title 'prophet'. I note, however, that the Shahada (the Muslim root declaration of faith: "I testify that there is one God and Muhammed is the messenger of God"). There is some evidence to suggest that for a time the first clause of the Shahada was the only clause and at some point later the declaration about Muhammed was added. It's interesting that this designates Muhammed as "rasul" of God. The word rasul is not really prophet but 'messenger' or sometimes "apostle" (one sent with a message). So, the root declaration of Muslim faith does not assert Mohammed as a prophet.

Many Christians automatically reject an assertion that Mohammed is a prophet of God because the difference between the message of Islam as it is propounded today and the basic understandings of the Christian gospel appear to be contradictory. If Christian proclamation is basically right, then Muslim proclamation must be to some degree flawed. Therefore, the reasoning goes; either but not both messages can be accepted.

Of course, it may be possible to dig into those basic stances and problematise them. And dialogue sometimes does.

There is also the understanding of what a prophet might be. I write as a Christian and I confess that I have not looked extensively at what Muslim traditions might say about prophethood. I would assume, from the way that Muslim friends and acquaintances have reasoned in my presence, that the term to some degree is defined by the person of Mohammed. This a priori is not an approach Christians on the whole would give much weight to; we'd have to be Muslims to accept it methodologically. We can understand the move, however, by analogy, since it is similar to Christian practice of understanding the Divine by central reference to Jesus benMaryam of Nazareth (as a recent theologian put it: "God is Christlike, and in God there is no unChristlikeness at all").

Broadly speaking the Christian world seems to work with a couple of overlapping views of prophethood. One derives from the Seer/Man of God strand in the Hebrew Bible and carries through to the ministries of men like Jeremiah. The other is the New Testament strand which sees prophecy as a ministry of the church which seems to be about either predicting events (see Agabus in Acts) or revealing hidden but present realities enabling the churches to respond well to situations. 

As I point out above, the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures both seem to distinguish on the one hand between revelations borne to humankind by angels where the angels are given credit for bearing the message and on the other hand messages which appear in the consciousness of people directly by the influence of the Holy Spirit. There are some Christians who would assert that this kind of prophecy has passed away because the closing of the canon of the New Testament. The point being, in this view, that such direct revelation from God is made unnecessary by the existence of the God-inspired Scriptures. For those who accept the possibility of such direct revelation in post-apostolic times, the datum of God-inspired Scriptures means that new revelations must not fundamentally contradict the Scriptures.

Obviously, a Christian in the ceased-revelation school of thought cannot even begin to entertain any claim of new revelation by Mohammed or anyone else, whether or not the label 'prophet' is used. For those in the continuing revelation way of thinking it may not be ruled out of necessity, but the incongruencies of message would. For this school too, the claim to prophethood would look odd against a background of direct revelation if it is actually an angelically mediated message.

The other thing to bear in mind from the Christian point of view is that if Christian claims about Jesus are about right, then there is no greater revelation possible of or from God. The best that Mohammed could do would be to prepare for or clarify the implications of the Christ event. So there is often some incredulity towards the Muslim exaltation of Mohammed over Jesus: it just seems like a category error of the order of magnitude of asking "who made God?".

So could Christians in any way accept the idea that Mohammed was "rasul" of God? Well, if the Qur'an as we have it and the interpretive tradition around it are taken at face value, probably not. The denial of Jesus's ultimacy and decisiveness in the purposes of God by Muslim tradition leaves little but contradiction. The denial of the crucifixion and the misinterpretation of the idea of Trinity have to count against being able to take what we are presented with as the revelation to Mohammed as being of God.

At least, at those points.
But what if the Muslim tradition as it has been presented to us, is in fact 'corrupted'? (And this is a reflex of Muslim claims of corruption of the Bible). First off we might consider that not everything Muslims claim as God's will is actually in the Qur'an. The Qur'an actually only ever names three daily prayers -like Judaic practice and early Christian practice. it is Sunna/tradition that separates out evening prayers into three. So this kind of glimpse into an evolving tradition held together by collections of sayings and doings of Mohammed himself (who moves from being a 'mere' messenger by this to being a perfect exemplar of God's revelation). There is quite some doubt about these hadith and they are generally accepted by the scholarly efforts of early-ish Muslim commentators like Bukhari. But, while revered in the accepted traditions, these collections of hadith that are accepted as well attested may not actually be so.

All of this leaves a possibility of interpreting Mohammed as some kind of man of God, with a ministry to the Arabs. It may have been that his fate could have been to have been like some of the more obscure prophets mentioned in the Hebrew Bible whose words were not much preserved (like Nathan, who came before David and whose only recorded words were to bring David up short with a parable and its application). Perhaps his memory became politically useful for a nascent Arab empire facing two superpower theocracies and needing a counter-narrative to bolster legitimacy and make connection. And so the figure of Mohammed attracted a  stories and sayings which eventually become consolidated in a Qur'an and further on in Hadith and Sunna.

So, if this was possible as a way of looking at Muhammed, then it might be possible for some Christians at least to see him as a man with a vocation to call Arabs to worship one God and to draw them towards the Judeo-Christian revelations. However, we would also want to say that we are fairly skeptical about what is presented by the developed Muslim traditions but believing that there might be at core some genuine experience of God.

The later Muslim traditions about Mohammed turn him into an intercessor and a kind of perfect example of a human being (because what else could someone touched by God to make the final revelation to humankind be?). Christians might be forgiven for suspecting, when we learn of this, that the Christ-shaped hole in the story being filled by Mohammed is suspicious but interesting. It should be noted that this probably drives a Muslim assertion that prophets are all sinless. Of course from the Jewish and Christian perspective this is a claim too far, since our scriptures do not show or claim this of 'prophetic' figures. Part of their 'charm' in our traditions of interpretation is that they are right only in part but can be uncomprehending and wrong at times. If this could be recognised by Muslims as a possibility which could also apply to Mohammed, then they might have less difficulty dealing with some rather scary hadiths.

The problem, it seems to me, for Muslims, is that their tradition has become fossilised at points and in ways that give little room for manoeuvre. That's a shame, because there could be ways for them to reconsider various things if only later tradition hadn't hardened in ways inimical towards Christian claims as they were (mis)understood at that point. 

Of course, my kind of recognition of Mohammed's possible prophethood would be scant comfort to orthodox Islam. My guess is that the original question could have been prompted by a desire to help Christians recognise Mohammed as The Prophet rather than just a prophet. There are understandable reasons for this to be found in the way that the evaluation of the figure of Mohammed evolved towards (in Christian terms) a Christ-substitute (as intermediary between humans and God, as perfect exemplar of God's will etc). However, for Muslims who might be willing to entertain the possibility that the Muslim tradition may have picked up a few bugs and errors in the course of transmission, there are some interesting further conversations to be had. Without that, we'll just have to map out the differences of interpretation and agree to differ, but at least knowing better how we differ and why our respective starting places don't really cut it in the other tradition.

14 March 2015

Sacramental Politics: Religious Worship as Political Action

This is a book that reads like a PhD thesis which has been slightly redacted for more public consumption. As such, it is not a book that many will find easy going: it has a lot of detail; it is extensively end-noted; there is a good amount of presentation of texts and commentary on them. The texts, in this case, are mostly transcripts or the written basis of spoken prayers or of speeches.

I was disappointed that the pdf copy I have had not been properly prepped for reading in this way: the footnotes were not hyperlinked between the main text and the footnote. I hope that this might be fixed in any other e-versions that might be released.

I have to say that one of the effects on me of reading this book was that I became more deeply concerned and at times scared by what I was reading. That may sound a bit dramatic and it would do so particularly to many readers who might be from the USA. And there is a degree of irony in that since we are considering a nation in which the separation of Church and state is highly valued constitutionally enshrined. And yet, this book seems to show that this separation seems to be less in some respects than in Britain where we have, in theory, an established church. My fear at reading the research in this book is for the way that USAmerican influence might be prodded and pushed along by a form of religion which is not good for the global community (let alone for its host nation).

The form of religion which I saw as I read the research presented in this book is one in which the global dominance of the USA is pretty much equated with the will of God. It reminded me so much of how Victorian England seems to have viewed itself (and now we are beginning to understand the history better we can see more readily how much Godly values were betrayed by that empire). I don't think I'd truly grasped the depth of popular USAmerican exceptionalism until I read the way that public prayers in The USA assume and promote that the Kingdom of God is pretty much co-terminous with USAmerican interests. Of course, there is, for many on the political right there, a contradiction -given the vehemence with which liberal values are attacked as ungodly- when a Democratic regime is in power. This contradiction, is in practice resorved by the fact that in foreign policy terms, a Democratic regime is scarcely any different. Just as in the British Empire, it seemed to make little difference whether Whigs or Tories were running the government: military power continued to be used worldwide to asset-strip and terrorise colonies and trading 'partners'.

This poisonous mix of religion (and not just formally Christian, either) and chauvinism is seen expressed and assumed in prayers and rhetoric. And for the rest of us it is deeply scary and gives no real sense of benevolence to the rest of the world; so we have to live with edgy appeasement or fearful opposition. here is Empire and the Constantinian settlement is alive and well. The problem is, we are the barbarians in this way of looking at the world.

There is some let up from the mostly disturbing and grim picture revealed. Some of the confluence of prayer and politics shows those with concern for the marginalised, poor and for respite from violence and militarism enacting their prayers also into public space. But, of course, that happens to fit my own understanding of Godly values. I keep hearing in my mind's ear one of Cromwell's better insights expressed thus: "I beseech you in the bowels of Christ, to think that you could be wrong". This exposes the biggest problem of all in so much of what the research shows up: the lack of humility to consider that we may have insights and something of the mind of Christ to learn from those we consider or have presented to us as 'enemies'.

I kept longing for the prayers to show some recognition that the prayists might have misunderstood God's will or that some insight into God's purposes might be gleaned from people who take a different view and therefore to pursue some kind of consensus building approaches. Instead so many of the prayers were, in effect, a presentation before God of the dialogue of the close-minded.

Of course, God is not the only audience and on page 46 (electronically. p.35 otherwise) a helpful reminder is given:
"all public prayer contains an important difference from that of private prayer: the addition of a public audience. Even in the case of someone praying/speaking in tongues (that is, speaking in sounds not understandable by the speaker or even other people present), such rhetoric cannot be considered as only for the divine"
I think that this is an important thing to remember and is a matter I am currently reflecting on as I write Hacking the Prayer Meeting (if that's what it ends up being called): noting that we have to pay attention to the social effects and reception of acts of praying within and beyond a prayer meeting. Sacramental Politics is doing us a service by reminding us that such a reception has, necessarily, political effects and even Political heft.

Quibbles

On p.21, we're informed: 'For faithful Catholics, transubstantiation does not occur gradually or as a process; rather, it occurs instantaneously when the priest utters the “Words of Initiation.”' Of course, there's a typo there or a lapse of the keyboard: these are the words of "Institution".

Then, next sentence, we're also told 'The priest speaks into existencethe transformation by saying “this is my body” (for the bread) and “this is ...my blood” for the wine. Without these words spoken, transubstantiation does not occur.' There are two problems with this, and I have chatted with Roman Catholic priests who confirm the points I'm about to make. First, we should be aware that transubstantiation isn't a dogma in the RC doctrinal framework, merely one way to express and defend the assertion of the Real Presence. The other point is that in official RC theology, the words of institution do not constitute transubstantiation or make the Presence of Christ real. The reason for this is that there is an eastern rite church in communion with the Bishop of Rome which has a Eucharistic prayer in which there is no narrative or words of institution. This church's prayer is considered to be Catholic by the Roman Church. But this really is only a quibble in this context, since the main point is unaffected by it.


Link-Love: 
Brian Kaylor's website
Brian on Twitter
Brian on Facebook
Brian- Linkedin
Sacramental Politics - Amazon

#SpeakeasySacramentalPolitics
I should point out that I received an electronic copy of this book via Speakeasy in return for agreeing to post a review within 30 days. The review need not be favourable.

Sacramental Politics: Religious Worship as Political Action (Frontiers in Political Communication): Amazon.co.uk: Brian Kaylor: 9781433126154: Books

03 March 2015

Desire Found Me ... or did it?

I've been reading* Andre Rabe's book Desire Found Me. It aims first to introduce us to mimetic theory (hence one strand of my interest in it) as propounded by Rene Girard. 'Desire' in the title is mimetic desire, but desire more generally has to be considered and I think it is right to see desire as a central characteristic of what forms us as human beings.
Having helped us to understand mimesis, Andre Rabe takes us into how this plays out into our spirituality. What I like about this book is that there are relatively simple explanations of mimesis -both the bare psychology (mirror neurons and all that) and the more developed 'psychoprehistory' which he calls anthropology.
Now, I have to confess, that I am well up for the first dimension of mimesis: I am all but convinced that the scientific evidence points that way. I think I've mentioned so before on this blog. And I agree that this basic human psychological trait is what enables 'principalities and powers' to grow out of human interactions. Rabe, rightly in my view, uses this to help us think about evil and the nature of original sin. I think that his exposition of this dimension of mimesis is well done and reasonably clear. Rabe's explanations are, I judge, helpful -though I wouldn't want to put them before someone without university level ability to understand stuff.
Where I'm a bit more skeptical is the second dimension of mimesis. It seems to me that the hypothesis of an ever-tightening spiral of mimetic desire leading to a primal scapegoat murder which becomes reframed as 'sacrifice', is hard to prove or falsify. And to me, it just doesn't quite gel: I find myself unconvinced and unable to quite make the connections stick to contemporary cultural phenomena. But that's not Rabe's fault, he's re-telling Girard's theory. As it happens, I don't think that my skepticism regarding this second dimension of mimetic theory actually impinge on many of the most telling or interesting ideas made in the book.
I enjoyed the reflections on atonement which, again, I think are helpfully expressed I was reminded during some of the discussion of atonement of my own posts trying to place forgiveness at the centre of accounting for atonement. I also felt that the insistence on resurrection being accounted for in whatever theory of the atonement is well made. How that fits with mimesis, I think is also helpfully explored.
I would definitely consider giving this to someone exploring christian formation and spirituality with attention to psychology -particularly in relation to desire- and anthropological insights, especially if there is interest in how it might relate to theories of atonement.

Link-Love: 
alwaysloved.net - Andre's site
Desire Found Me - book site
Andre on Twitter
Andre on Facebook
Andre on Youtube
Andre on Google+
Desire Found Me on Amazon 
* And in all honesty and transparency, I should mention that I was given the e-book free by the publishers via the Speakeasy scheme in exchange for reviewing it to some degree within 30 days. I didn't have to give it a favourable review.

A review: One With The Father

I'm a bit of a fan of medieval mysteries especially where there are monastic and religious dimensions to them. That's what drew me t...