Tuesday, March 29, 2011

"It’s no wonder pastors are always in the dark"

Here's an email my friend sent me. I know why he thought of me when he sent it... becuase it would "offend just about everyone!" That seems like my M.O

"This pastor joke might offend just about everyone!
At a recent pastor’s retreat each minister in attendance was asked the following question: “How many people does it take to screw in a light bulb?” The answers were as follows.
A Presbyterian Pastor responded, “None. If God wants the bulb screwed in he is sovereign and will do it himself without human effort.”
A Charismatic Pastor replied, “None. The bulb doesn’t need to be changed. We should pray that it be healed.”
A Pentecostal Pastor said, “None. We simply need to cast out from the bulb the demon of darkness.”
The Fundamentalist Pastor stated, “None. We shouldn’t even enter the room because we need to keep ourselves separate from all darkness.”
A Baptist Pastor responded, “None. If we allow physical contact between a person and the bulb it might lead to dancing.”
The Wesleyan Minister replied, “None. If we just show the bulb its need, it already possesses the power to screw itself in.”
A Non-Denominational Pastor said, “None. We don’t want to make the bulb feel unwanted or uncomfortable.”
This poll provides one clear conclusion: it’s no wonder pastors are always in the dark."

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Cobwebs

It was a simple question, but little did I know that the answer would change my life.
“Where did all these spiders come from?”

Had I known that I was about to be the punch line of a joke that would wound me so deeply, I would have covered my ears. Had I of known, I would have left the room. Instead I waited to hear what you had to say, because I eagerly wanted your approval. 

“From the cobwebs in Ryan’s head.”

This seems like such a marginal thing, but to an eight year old these words tore me apart. SO much so that now, as a grown man, I am still seeking to defend against them. These are the kinds of memories that I receive in moments of frustration. These are moments where I bridle my emotions, grab the reigns of my anger before it can become a reaction, before I can say “Who the fuck do you think you are, asshole? I’m smarter than you, and I will not allow you to make me feel this way. You are small and inconsequential to me, you mean nothing, you are nothing.” 

Yet if you were so small, I would not have to defend against your words. When I sat in this moment, just the other night, I was given this memory that I put away, never to be thought of again. And before I unleashed the lash of words that I desired to on the person that invoked it, I repressed it within me and thought “what is it that bothers me so much?” And the feeling of cobwebs filling my brain once again took hold of me.

Another memory too:
I remember talking to a man who I thought highly of and cared deeply for. I do not remember what I was saying, I only remember that I was happy to be sharing it with this man

His response:

“Ryan, every time you open your mouth the only thing you’re telling me and the people around you is just how dumb you are.”

You were all cowards, afraid of your own failure and inadequacy, and I was just a child who had to stand beneath you as your knees knocked together in fear. I was just a child, who had to stand beneath your quivering piss as you belittled that which was already small. I was a child of promise and aptitude, and you were so small that I threatened you.

I do not know what must be done to move beyond your wounds, but it will be done. I resolve to never make others feel the way that you have made me feel. Yet, the sting of your wound is such that while trying to remedy it I belittle others.

In the most literal form:
Damn it… all of it. 

Not you though; you and I are the same now, but it will not continue. This will die with you, and it will die in me.

Monday, March 14, 2011

A Guinness and A'Kempis

I have sought out my own self importance, having been made to believe that I was not important at all, nor was I wanted by those who were supposed to have me. Not only was I not wanted but I was the source of their grief. So now, Father, what I seek is my own importance, and the words of your servant, Kempis, concerning this quest, though difficult to listen to, are true. The praises of man are empty, they are shallow and deceitful. When I receive the praise from those whom I longed for it to come it is meaningless. It does not answer the question nor does it alleviate the stinging of the wound. 

So I confess, to you my God, that I am nothing. In my proclamation of nothingness I feel liberated from the quest of establishing myself as something. I am nothing, and that which I am I am only so because of you.
For in my dreams I see the fruit of my labor. I see the fruit of the work of my hands and the sweat of my brow. What I see in these visions is the alienation that has ensued from every friendship and relationship in every chapter of my life. I see discord and dissonance of those whom I love being pushed away before they could confirm my nothingness, or whose encouragements did not do what I had hoped they would. I use people, Father. In this moment I understand the meaning of this “mortification of the flesh.” The flesh seeks itself. I am a slave unto me. 

“Whatever a man be worth in the sight of God, says the humble St. Francis, so much is he and no more, no matter how holy and how virtuous he is taken to be in the sight of people (145).”

So then Father, what am I to you? I will be vulnerable with you Father, and place the contents of my soul in your lap, and will trust you with the question that haunts me the most, whether or not I am, will be, or can be satisfied with your answer.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Confessions: Part 5 - Final Installment; personal confession

V.                   The personal lessons learned from Augustine’s vulnerabilities
It has been said that confession is good for the soul but bad for the reputation. Below are some thoughts that have stirred my soul and caused me to, whether significant or not, change or reflect on some important things at a deeper level.
As I have read Augustine, I came to believe that the intentions of my earliest endeavors were much nobler than my current ones. That is, when I sought after an education, my intention was to come to know more of the Lord, which I believed to be worth any price (and still do). Where I arrived in that endeavor was the life that Augustine went on to live before coming to faith. I desire to be learned, well read, a great orator, in order that I might cripple my intellectual opponents and be revered by my peers and instructors. My education was/is not in vain, that is until it becomes vain when my ambitions are more about me and my status and less about God and what He would have for me.
Two other portions of the book, in his vulnerability, articulated in words what only my spirit in groans could communicate. Augustine spoke on the death of his friend and the death of his Mother. In both testimonies, the circumstances spoke what I could not have the strength to compose or speak of without emotional exhaustion. I lost my friend to cancer just a little over a year ago, and before that I lost my beloved Grandmother, who, like Monica, was a humble servant of the Lord. Married to a difficult man, her gentle disposition and commitment were more powerful than the condescension of an unappreciative husband. She ministered with deep love to all who knew her.
As I have already stated, Augustine’s understanding of sin (not on all levels) is helpful in that in some way I had felt that God was responsible for my actions. I was created with a genetic predisposition, I was nurtured in a fashion of difficulty, and therefore my sin was in some way not my own. It was only the outward manifestation of that which I could not contain within me. Couple this with Augustine’s conformity of the will to the purposes of God, and I realize that I am not bound by circumstance nor by heritage or legacy. The chains have been loosened enough that I am able to, by my own volition, yet only with the help of God, move from that which has ensnared me.

Confessions: Part 4

IV.            Augustine’s Epistemology: The Way in which Augustine came to conclusions and theologized – Modern / Post Modern debate – East v. West – The use of foundationalism and propositional truths

It was a generic presupposition of mine that Augustine set the trajectory for the Cataphatic way in which Western theology developed.  This I still believe to be true. There were a few things however that took me by surprise. In the Modern/Post-Modern debate concerning epistemology, much of what I assumed to be the basic definitive tenants of Modernism were clearly articulated in Augustine’s words. What is equally as shocking is that at times I thought Augustine to sound like an ancient Post-Modern. It is safe to assume that Augustine was not thinking in these terms, but once again the wisdom of this ancient theologian answers the squabble of the modern (or post-modern) dilemma. 
So for example, concerning the nature of truth, I find Augustine’s sympathies for the “Academics” to be eerily Post Modern:
“They taught that everything is a matter of doubt, and that an understanding of the truth lies beyond human capacity (84).”
In the final chapters, concerning interpretation of truth, Augustine says:
“ In this diversity of true views, may truth itself engender concord, and may our God have mercy upon us that we may ‘use the law lawfully’, for the ‘end of the precept, pure love’ (1 Tim. 1:8,5)… And if anyone sees a third or fourth and a further truth in these words, why not believe that Moses discerned all these things? For through him the one God has tempered the sacred books to the interpretation of many who could come to see a diversity of truths (270-71).”
It was difficult for me to distinguish at this point whether or not it was Augustine or John Franke who wrote these words. In this same regard, while vying for diversity in interpretation and a plurality of truth, Augustine seems to make a statement whereby he does not want to make a definitive propositional truth when it comes to these same varying interpretations, stating that if he were the one composing sacred writings he would:
“…choose to write so that my words would sound out with whatever diverse truth in these matters each reader was able to grasp, rather than to give a quite explicit statement of a single true view of this question in such a way as to exclude other views – provided there was no false doctrine to offend me (271).”
At the same time, Augustine, in his definitive quest for truth, very much utilizes propositional truths and foundational thinking to arrive at indisputable conclusions. For example, truth in many ways can be acquired through a process or by the utilization of rationalistic thought:
“It is rather that the created order speaks to all, but is understood by those who hear its outward voice and compare it with the truth within themselves (184).”
Concerning memory and the power of the mind it is said:
“Who has plumbed its bottom? This power is that of my mind and is a natural endowment, but I myself cannot grasp the totality of what I am. Is the mind, then, too restricted to compass itself, so that we have to ask what is that element of itself which it fails to grasp? Surely that cannot be external to itself, it must be within the mind (187).”
The passages and entire chapters which speak about the quest for and arrival at truth go on and on throughout the entire book. What is most compelling about Augustine’s use of foundationalism in order to draw a definitive conclusion is when in one paragraph, Augustine begins each of the ten sentences with “It is true (260).” Having laid down these foundations, Augustine makes his conclusions:
“All these true propositions are no matters of doubt to those to whom you have granted insight to see them with their inward eye, and who unmoveably believe that your servant Moses spoke ‘in the spirit of truth’ (John 14:17). On the basis of all these axioms, a view may be urged to this effect… on the basis of all those true propositions, a view may be urged to this effect (260,61 italics added).” 
It would seem then, that much of what I thought unhelpful to have come out of a modern era was in fact in existence more than a millennium before its conception. Also, the dichotomy which renders the two eras incompatible does not seem to plague Augustine, which I find to be a great relief and a beautiful harmony.  

Confessions: Part 3

III.             Augustine’s Soteriology: Issues of (original) sin, human responsibility, the will, and salvation.
Having been exposed in class to the discrepancy between original sin and ancestral sin, I read intently seeking to grasp how Augustine understood this concept. Beginning with his understanding of sin, Augustine had at one time:
“thought it is not we who sin, but some alien nature which sins in us. It flatters my pride to be free of blame and, when I had done something wrong, not to make myself confess to you that you might heal my soul, for it was sinning against you (Ps. 40:5). I like to excuse myself and to accuse some unidentifiable power which was with me and yet not I (p. 84).”
This was a common misconception that Augustine returned to address often. He seemed to express that sin was not an external faculty, but rather something which we are. He addresses this, among other places, concerning astrologers who:
 “make a man not in the least responsible for his faults, but mere flesh and blood and putrid pride, so that the blame lies with the Creator and orderer of the heaven and stars (p. 54).”
The claim in Augustine’s day (one which I personally needed to hear and be challenged on) was that that which humanity did was a result of either external factors or the way in which they were simply created to be. This is much the same idiom of today, as Lady Gaga proclaims in her song that we are “Born this way.” If I am born a certain way, than I cannot argue with God for who I now am, and am simply responding to the circumstances that have been placed before me. Therefore, can I be held accountable for that which I did not create in myself? For Augustine, this is not an option.
On the origin of this sin, Augustine, in narrative of departing from his mother deceitfully for Rome and arriving there ill says:
“… I was on the way to the underworld, bearing all the evils I had committed against you, against myself, and against others – sins both numerous and serious, in addition to the chain of original sin by which ‘in Adam we die’ (1 Cor. 15:22). You had not yet forgave me in Christ for any of them, nor had he by his cross delivered me from the hostile disposition towards you which I had contracted by my sins (82).”
This understanding of sin also corresponds with Augustine’s understanding of atonement, for Christ “endured our death and slew it by the abundance of his life (64),” he “’abolished the account of debts which was reckoned against us’ (Col. 2:14). He triumphed over the enemy who counts up our sins, and searches for grounds of accusation, but who found no fault in him in whom we are conquerors (John 14:30; Rom. 8:37). Who will restore to him his innocent blood? Who will restore to him the price which he paid to buy us, so as to take us out of our adversary’s hands (178)?”  He “made void the death of justified sinners,” and God, having loved us, “did not ‘spare your only Son but delivered him up for us sinners (219).”
A very important part of Augustine’s soteriology comes out in his narrative, in that in every aspect of Augustine’s life, it is God who has orchestrated the events in order to bring about the final outcome. This is seen in such events as Augustine’s choice to study the liberal arts or his choice to leave for Rome against his Mother’s wishes, the circumstances of which God used mightily. Every event that Augustine recalls has been orchestrated in some way by God:
“You applied the pricks which made me tear myself away from Carthage, and you put before me the attractions of Rome to draw me there, using people who love a life of death, committing insane actions in this world, promising vain rewards to the next. To correct my ‘steps’ (Ps. 36:23; Prov. 20:20) you secretly made use of their and my perversity. For those who disturbed my serenity were blinded with a disgraceful frenzy (81).”
And concerning what led to a meeting with Ambrose, the bishop who brought about Augustine’s salvation:
“I was led to him by you, unaware that through him, in full awareness, I might be led to you (87,88).”

Confessions: Part 2

II.                   On the Interpretation of the Bible:
I find it difficult to pinpoint and describe Augustine’s hermeneutic because I find him utilizing both methods which I have been exposed to, yet have in the past thought to be mutually exclusive. I find it refreshing that this ancient author so easily addresses and resolves this modern conflict of biblical interpretation for me.
 So for me, my foundation for interpreting scripture was using a historical, grammatical, rhetorical, theological method. Its ambition was to discover the author’s original intent, as well as how the original audience would have received that message. Anything that deviates from this is an invalid interpretation and a poisonous application. It is on this last point that Augustine would disagree and go to great lengths to maintain unity in the body, affirming the validity of various interpretations:
“As long as each interpreter is endeavoring to find in the holy scriptures the meaning of the author who wrote it, what evil is it if an exegesis he gives is one shown to be true by you… (259).”  
The other method, which I had been exposed to at Biblical and which has made the most sense to me in recent times was what has been described as a Christotelic/Christocentric method of interpretation. That is to say that Christ is the end goal of the scriptures (TaNaK). Though I could not reconcile the two in my mind, I utilized both while interpreting. It is clear throughout these confessions that Augustine was caught between the tensions of the two as well. This comes to a head in the final chapters of the book. Concerning this, Augustine says while praying to God and speaking of Jesus:
“’In him are hidden all the treasure of wisdom and knowledge’ (Col. 2:3). For those treasures I search in your books. Moses wrote of him (John 5:46). He himself said this; this is the declaration of the Truth (223).”
The tension is described in singular paragraphs concerning the proper interpretation of Genesis and the utilization of both hermeneutics:
“… I see that two areas of disagreement can arise, when something is recorded by truthful reporters using signs. The first concerns the truth of the matter in question. The second concerns the intention of the writer. It is one thing to inquire into the truth about the origin of the creation. It is another to ask what understanding of the words on the part of a reader and hearer was intended by Moses, a distinguished servant of your faith… “
Augustine goes on to acknowledge the tension of seeking out authorial intent:
“… which of us can discover your will with such assurance that he confidently says ‘This is what Moses meant and this was his meaning in that narrative’ as confidently as he can say, ‘Whether Moses meant this or something else, this is true’? (263)”
After battling with the difficulties of fully knowing the authors intention in composing scripture, Augustine goes on to suggest that in light of what has recently been deemed the “Jesus Creed” (Matt. 22:37-39),  “On the basis of those two commandments of love, Moses meant whatever he meant in those books (265).” That is to say that interpretation done through the lens of Christ is not invalidated.
And so, summarizing this tension in his concluding prayer he writes:
“The understanding presupposed in my confessions is that if I have said what your minister meant, that is correct and the best interpretation, and that is the attempt I have to make. But if I have been unsuccessful in that endeavor, I pray that nevertheless I may say what, occasioned by his words, your truth wished me to say. For that the Truth also spoke what it wished to him (271,72).”

Confessions: Part 1

If I were posed the question, “Who is the father of your theology?” at different times I would have given varying answers. Not too long ago, I would have scoffed at such a question, and would have merely stated that my theology was built solely upon the authority of the bible without prejudice or influence. Learning later the audacity of such a claim, I would have simply deemed myself to be a product of western theology, from the tribe of the reformation, more specifically, from the theology of John Calvin.
As Dr. Kent Berghuis once analogized, the Christian life is like a “super bouncy ball” which, by its own momentum bounces off the ground and is projected upward gaining height upon each return from its starting point. So, says Burghuis, is the progression of Christian generations, one after another, who must plumb down through the subsequent generations, bouncing off the foundation which is Christ, and returning to their time to understand from whence they came and how they got to where they now are. 
So now, returning to my initial question, I conclude that Augustine is the father of my theology. I have read much about Augustine, but of Augustine I have read little until this time. Of all the theologians and historical Christian figures that I have read, Augustine is the one whom for me spoke with the most clarity and decisiveness. The reason for this, I have come to believe, is that Augustine is the spring from which most of the theology I have consumed has flowed and was developed.
Though I desire to simply ramble through my discoveries of Augustine (as would be fitting given the way in which Augustine arrived at his conclusions through lengthy self discourse), I must narrow my focus to a few areas that had profound implications as to the trajectory on which Augustine has propelled the western world (perhaps I give him too much credit by saying this, but I hope that the reasons for such conclusions will be adequately explained through my outline). This outline consists of broader themes which, interestingly enough, are framed by the kind of legal mind that Augustine had (155). Therefore, such categories were not difficult to pick out. The outline proceeds as follows:
I.                   Introductory / Explanatory words
II.                On the Interpretation of the Bible
III.             Augustine’s Soteriology: Issues of (original) sin, human responsibility, the will, and salvation
IV.             Augustine’s Epistemology: The Way in which Augustine came to conclusions and theologized – Modern / Post Modern debate – East v. West – The use of foundationalism and propositional truths – plurality of truth
V.                The personal lessons learned from Augustine’s vulnerabilities

I.                   Introductory / Explanatory words: Method of reading and interpretation
In reading Augustine’s work, I used two highlighters. The first was the color orange which consisted of things that I found to be greatly applicational, profound, and personal. The second was green which was to note not just something theological in nature, but something unique about the way in which Augustine theologized. It must be stated that what I can most appreciate about Augustine is that he did not do theology in such a polarized fashion. Augustine’s theology was the affirmation of his conclusions applied to the narrative of his life. For the purposes of trying to fully understand Augustine, I tried to understand what motivated Augustine’s methods while seeking not to deconstruct the immense value of his work.

Monday, March 7, 2011

"Whatever it is that 'defines you' only further divides us" - On Galatians

This was a paper I wrote as a critical reflection on Mark D. Baker's Religious No More. I received a 99% for this paper.

Tonight, as the weight of other seminary assignments overwhelm me, the response I received for this paper has encouraged me to press on. It is very long, but it is the outcome of a great deal of work that has challenged what I thought I knew about the Gospel, Law, Grace, and the apostle Paul. I hope it is helpful to some:
The title of this blog is the summary at the very end. If you get bored, just skip to that paragraph. 


I.                   Summary of Content
It is a biblical theme that the best way to judge something is to look at and partake of its fruit. While it seems that many evangelicals in the west, particularly those in North America, are scrambling to find out why much of our efforts are in fact fruitless, Baker has a proposition that forces us to step back and look at what the fruit of our theology has created in the rest of the world. Baker does this based on his assessment of the churches he worked with while in Honduras: “I asked what it was about the form of the gospel that North American missionaries like me brought Honduras that allowed these theological distortions to flourish (14).” He later goes on to say that the book will seek to observe what is happening in some Honduran churches in order to “help us identify weaknesses and distortions in the gospel North American evangelicals have brought to Honduras (15).”
            Baker’s premise is that religion, as he defines it, is the culprit in our churches today. Religion, and the Western mind have caused us to read the bible through our own autonomous lenses. Baker believes that the key to interpreting scripture is to become aware of these lenses and begin the process of taking them off. The first four chapters of the book are committed to personal testimony of what is occurring in Honduras, and it is eerie the similarities that are found when one compares the two. Baker further expands his premise by likening North American theology to driving a car. While driving a car in normal conditions, the vehicle appears to operate fine, but “We dare not ignore the way this car performed on the Las Mesetas test course, because the ‘car’ used by the Las Mesetas churches was imported from North America. The rattling we have heard and the vibrations we have felt in this chapter have come from our car… (31).”
Baker defines religion as “line-drawing (36).” He later goes on to define “religiosity” as “our common human tendency to attempt through our efforts to gain security from God, the gods or something that acts as a god in our lives (37).” This definition harmoniously quantifies the alienation, misinterpretation and exclusion that manifests itself in this region of Central America. It also establishes the commentary that is to come on Galatians that characterizes a good percentage of the book.
As stated before, the enemy of interpretation which has become the fruit of North American export is the interpretive lens through which we have seen the book of Galatians in particular through “North American Individualism” (57-58). Baker observes that “built into this lens is the idea that future individual-salvation of the soul is the center of Christianity (57).” In this way, Baker challenges the traditional reformation understanding of the book of Galatians and utilizes some new perspective understandings to make these corrections.
Baker observes that the traditional understanding of the book of Galatians and the reason for its composition makes “no mention of Paul’s concern for the church as a community nor of Paul’s concern for the unity of the church in Galatia. Instead they (the traditional interpreters) claim that Paul wrote the letter so that individual Christians in Galatia would be free from legalism and understand the correct path of salvation (75).” Stemming from this interpretation, justification is “a process that involves only God and the individual (76).” The danger that Baker sees in this focus solely upon the individual’s salvation is that it opens up the door to the religious definition that he gave earlier to work in the community of believers. The emphasis becomes on what one must do to be saved, rather than what God has done in the transaction. This, Baker contends, leads to a host of ways in which a person can be judged in order to validate the legitimacy of their salvation.
            The traditional understanding, Baker further goes on to explain, suggests that Paul’s purpose for writing was that the Judaizers (a term Baker only seems to use when talking about the “traditional understanding) “told the Galatians human merit was an integral part of salvation. Paul is upset by a doctrinal error in relation to the path of salvation for individuals (80).”
Baker begins his understanding of Galatians with a look at the exchange between Peter and Paul. For Baker, it is this exchange which demonstrates that Paul’s concern was division in the body, not doctrinal error. “For Paul the truth of the gospel is ‘there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus’ (3:28) (81).” When Baker begins to unpack the fact that the agitators were more than likely not preaching a gospel of merit, he challenges his readers to “reevaluate how much we have in common with the false teachers in Galatia (87).” For Baker then, the Galatian’s desire to place themselves under the authority of the law “could split the community and easily lead people to come under the bondage of religion (87).”
The faith in/faith of debate is key for Baker, and he leans heavily on a translation that emphasis the faith/faithfulness as Christ being the subjective genitive rather than the object. That is, the faithfulness of Christ’s actions is the emphasis, rather than the faith of the individual in Christ. Any deviation from this understanding and one is subject to the grips of religion once more: “Given the religious propensity of humans, a translation that encourages people to view faith itself as a work that achieves something is an unwise translation… People assume they need to do something to earn good standing with God. Paul would reject the ‘faith in’ translation because it carves out a space for human action, subtly taking a step back toward the slavery of religion (106).” 
II.                Critical Analysis
I found a great deal of validity to Bakers work and was excited when I started reading this book. The idea that we can objectively critique our own hermeneutic, the fruit of our own culture induced by interpretive postures through ways in which it has been manifest in places where we exported it to is brilliant. It can in fact be difficult to critique one’s own surrounding culture when one is in its midst. It is also difficult when prosperity and affluence are abundantly apart of the culture that has exported its theology. I would agree with Baker that at times, the ways in which theology has been practiced here is quite frightening. For example, when the Christians in Honduras believed that they must interpret the words “poor” to mean a spiritual poor, I knew exactly what Baker was getting at. Up until my trip to Cambodia, I did in fact utilize a spiritual hermeneutic whereby poverty meant something other than actual poverty. Instead, it meant spiritual poverty. One must interpret this way when one has never seen nor experienced poverty.
On an applicational level, I greatly appreciated Baker’s observations. I conclude that this makes Baker an excellent missional exegete in some regards. However, Baker proposed a hermeneutical lens of his own that I found, as is the case with all lenses, to be lacking in wholeness of understanding and self serving at times. When one proposes a hermeneutical key to understand scripture, they look for that key and make applications towards their premise. Some hermeneutical keys are valid, such as a Christotelic/Christocentric reading of the Old Testament. Baker’s imposition on the word “religion” made the conclusions that he drew, at times, either difficult to understand or appearing to be a stretch of the text and intent of the passages.
Baker covers many of the issues that we discussed in class or read about. He begins with E.P. Sanders, whom we have established through reading and discussion to be one of the first to contend that “Paul did not attack a Jewish teaching that humans earn their salvation by their own efforts. To say he did so is to hold an erroneous view of Judaism… The law did not provide a means to achieve fellowship with God… The Law showed Israel how to live in covenant with God… They did not teach that obeying the law was a means to earn salvation; obedience kept one within the covenant (84).”
Where I found Baker to be lacking is in the same area that I had to reconfigure what I thought I understood about Law versus Grace several times over while in class. When Baker interacts with “The Law,” he defines it not as the ethnic supreme identifier that I believe the agitators were preaching (that is, Torah, the first five books of the law; not a list of do’s and don’ts), but rather Bakers seems to see the law as a series of standards that define who is in and who is out, which is consistent with his premise of the negative effects of religion. While there is validity to this assessment, it does not seem to full satisfy and encompass Paul’s understanding of the Law.
Baker fears that it is the “Jewish laws and traditions” that were going to split the community in Galatia and “lead people to come under the bondage of religion (87).” I think this line of thought is affirmed by Hays while discussing the Stoicheia. In Galatians 4:8-11, Paul speaks of the “weak and beggarly elemental spirits (NRSV)?” Or as the NIV renders it: “…weak and miserable principles?” Concerning this Hays writes: “When one strips away the specific terminology of the Jewish festivals, Paul suggests, one sees that they are in essence just another kind of nature religion! He is saying, in effect, ‘You used to be in slavery to the cosmic elements; if you come under the Law, you will be back under the control of these same cosmic forces (Hays 288).’” While I believe for exegetical purposes Hays has narrowed his scope concerning Paul’s understanding of the Law to the passage at hand, this interpretation is difficult to reconcile with other passages (not that it is impossible to reconcile, just that I am having difficulty bringing them together).
The problem is that this interpretation does not seem to harmonize the paradoxical nature that Paul speaks about the law. Sloan does an excellent job of pointing out that Paul speaks of the law in both negative and positive ways, and any interpretation of Paul must reconcile the way in which Paul speaks about the Law in this manner. Sloan points out as well that “there can be little doubt that Paul still is referring to the one law which is, in spite of its attachment to sin and the flesh, nonetheless God’s law (Sloan 46).” With this statement Sloan affirms that the Law is referencing more than just a set of rules and principles, but also that the law remains an agent of God; a principle that one must consider when speaking about the Law. 
There are other areas where I feel like Baker’s process of interpretation is going in the right direction, but his interpretive predisposition leads him to a bizarre conclusion. In fairness however I must note that Baker states that “By highlighting religion, I do not mean to imply that the term summarizes in a comprehensive way all that Paul discusses in this section (that section being Gal. 5:15-6:10) (132).” In this way it seems Baker acknowledges the limitations of his methods.  
III.             The issue of justification by faith
The issue of justification by faith took me by surprise when we began this course. The pivotal moment was while listening to the lecture on MP3 in sync with slide 54 of the first PowerPoint presentation. In it, was the “Surprising absence of some key terms and concepts from the earlier sections of the book: Faith, Works, Abraham, Justification.” The implication of this being that in the conclusion of his letter, Paul would draw together all that is central to his purposes for writing, and none of these seemingly foundational themes of Galatatians are present. This struck me in such a profound way, that I immediately had to blog about how “My mind had just been blown.” It was a long process of piecing all of the implications of this together. It was clearly stated, both in class and in much of our literature, that justification by faith was not wrong, it simply was not the theme of Paul’s letter. It just so happened that strolling into an English pub in Lancaster City, I met up with a man who wrote his dissertation on this very topic. I will speak more on that later.
First, I should like to articulate what I concluded very early concerning this phrase. Though reductionist in nature, I concluded that Luther was more preoccupied with the location of his own soul and had interpreted ancient Judaism as the then Roman Catholic Church that could not give Luther the absolution he labored towards yet never acquired. This certainly was Baker’s contention:
SINCE LUTHER, MOST PROTESTANTS HAVE SEEN JUSTIFICATION, not by works of the law but by faith, as the central idea of Galatians. In the writings of Paul, Luther, a conscience smitten friar, had found freedom from his burden of guilt and his endless striving to achieve peace with God. He used Paul’s teaching of justification by faith as a corrective to the medieval church’s teaching on penance and indulgences – what Luther saw as justification by works. Luther’s experience has had a huge impact on the way we read Paul. Protestants have not had the image of the divided table at Antioch in mind when they read Galatians; rather, using the lens of Luther’s experience, they have commonly interpreted Paul as addressing the same issues; the individual’s burden of guilt and a mistaken teaching of works-righteousness… Luther’s experience was not wrong. Rather, it is wrong to use Luther’s experience as the sole interpretive key for the letter (97-98).”    

This is a great summation, at least of Bakers stance. It does however; leave me wondering if it is not overstated. While out with Dr. Jim McGahey (who’s dissertation I later acquired), he explained that Luther was way too good a scholar to have so blindly missed what he is modernly being accused of. With this I remark that in the quote above, Baker’s statements seem contradictory; dismissive at first, then retractive later.
With this in mind I turn to Dr. James McGahey who writes: “But one may legitimately question whether, by this recognition, most proponents of the ‘new perspective’ have penetrated far enough into the bedrock of Paul’s theological argumentation. For by demanding the full proselytization of Gentile converts, the agitators implicitly denied the absolute and sole sufficiency of Christ’s atoning death to render them fully acceptable before God as members of his new covenant people (320).”  This succinct statement affirms a diversity of opinions. I do not think that Dr. McGahey is denying the agitators desire to have Israel and her Messiah identify with Torah, and at the same time it is an affirmation that placing oneself under the Torah is a challenge to the supremacy of Christ, in which Torah has its fulfillment and has satisfied its purposes.
Longenecker affirms this by noting the polarity of argumentation: “On the one hand, some argue that the fundamental problem with observing the laws was, for Paul, ‘ethnocentrism,” in which God’s grace was thought to be restricted to a single national entity that observed the law… On the other hand, others argue that the law was inadequate for Paul due to its failure to correct an inner, deeply-seated spiritual problem at the very core of human identity…” Longenecker goes on to correct and harmonize this dichotomy by saying: “It is certainly true that the issue of ‘nomistic observance’ focuses on matters of social boundary markers and group identity which pertain to ethnic Israel. But it is also the case that Paul finds the ‘ethnocentric covenantalism’ of the agitators to be a full-blown example of something fundamentally wrong within the human condition (76).” In this way, Luther’s take away interpretation is affirmed as the condition of humanity is manifest in the law; and the cure for humanities condition is to be found in Christ. There are other areas however, where remnants of reformed theology must be challenged in regards to justification by faith.
In essence, when one challenges the premise upon which justification of faith is built and presented in its reformed context (that is that the law is presented as the perfect definer of sin and demanded perfect adherence, thereby Christ as the perfect law keeper imputes his righteousness [justification] upon us through our faith in him for keeping the law perfectly) the “traditional understanding of Galatians” as Baker would say, can no longer be substantiated.  As Hays says: “his (Paul’s) point cannot be that the Law requires sinless perfection, for the Law contains extensive provisions to provide atonement and forgiveness of sins… The Law is a total way of life, a religious system that makes a total demand on one’s life. To come under the Law is to enter a sphere where the Law is sovereign.”
So salvation does belong to the individual by believing in the faithfulness of Christ. However, this is derived from Paul’s broader point that entrance into covenant relationship comes solely by Christ, and not by Torah. Paul gives his reasons why Torah, given by God, served its purpose, and that under Torah the Christ was condemned. Therefore, those who are now in Christ have died to the Law. Inevitably those who chose to fall under its restraints have embraced something that is no longer valid, which in its implication invalidates the relationship they established with Christ who was cursed by God under the Law, rendering Christ useless to them.
Baker has given me a great deal to think about and ponder concerning issues of our great faith in its practice. His commentary on Galatians, for me, did little to alleviate much of the confusion I had felt throughout the course and at times had actually contributed to my confusion. Baker’s striving for authentic community and his assessment of the state of the North American gospel and autonomous lens through which we have theologized presents his readers with the daunting task of correcting an overwhelming problem. As Baker always observed while masterfully articulating his observances, he hopes that he himself does not become condescending or judgmental to those from whom he has now distinguished and progressed himself from.
While for Baker, the exclusion of “religion” is somewhat articulated in terms of the individual’s alienation by the North American gospel (ironic if you think about it), the application that I take from this book are the larger global divisions within Christianity that currently exist. These divisions consist of denominationalism, ethnic divides and racial tension, and the clear disparity between the wealthy and the poor; all within the global, national, and local church! These divisions/distinctions are left to go unchallenged because they are subtly hid from our eyes. The message that Paul proclaims to the church in Galatia is still the same that must be proclaimed today: whatever it is that “defines you” only further divides us. There is no distinction that matters, whether it be the Torah, ethnicity, gender, or Christian tradition. There is not distinction; only the commonality shared in our Lord, Jesus Christ.







Works Cited




Baker, Mark D. Religious no more: building communities of grace & freedom. Eugene, Or.: Wipf & Stock, 2005.

The Bible: New International Version. Colorado Springs, CO: International Bible Society, 1984.

Hays, Richard B. "The Letter to the Galatians." The New Interpreter's Bible. Vol. XI. Nashville: Abington P, 2000.

Holy Bible: NRSV, New Revised Standard Version. New York: Harper Bibles, 2007.

Longenecker, Bruce W. "The Triumph of Abraham's God." Abington Press (1998).

McGahey, James R. The Nature and Rationale of Paul's Polemic Against "Works of the Law" in the Epistle to the Galatians. Diss. Dallas Theological Seminary, 1996.

Sloan, Robert B. "Paul and the Law: Why the Law Cannot Save." Novum Testamentum XXXIII (1991).