Does God heal today?

In Luke 7:18ff, John the Baptist send messengers to Jesus to ask if he was indeed the promised Messiah. Jesus responded by saying: “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and good news is preached to the poor.” This is of course an allusion to Isaiah 35:5-6 and 61:1, and refers to events which are prophesied to take place in the year of the Lord’s favor, that time when God would rule in a new and powerful way. As we know, Jesus’ preaching was about the coming of the Kingdom of God. Wherever Jesus carried this message, there were signs which accompanied it – blind receiving sight, lame walking, deaf hearing and leprosy cured. As people who continue to live in, sacramentally signify and spread God’s end time Kingdom, we ought to expect physical healing to have an ongoing significance among us. This will take the form of the miraculous, and the medical. All blessings of health come from the hand of God, and all true knowledge is God’s knowledge.

‘Is it always God’s will to heal?’ I would have to answer yes; God’s will is for his humanity to be completely liberated from the effects of the fall, including sickness and death. So when we ask for healing for ourselves or someone else in our present age, we can be certain that we are asking for exactly what it is God wants for us. However, we live in an eschatological mid point (already, not yet). So perhaps the question is better put, ‘Will God heal me now in this present age, or will he wait for the consummation?’ We cannot live in denial that we still stand with one foot in “this age.” Even those people Jesus himself healed fell ill again and died. The mystery of who experiences as foretaste the gift of certain special benefits through Christ’s death and resurrection in our present age and who does not cannot be explained, and pastorally I have no answer. What I can reassure those seeking divine healing of is that they are indeed asking for exactly what their loving Father wishes to give them. The only question is ‘When?’, and the only response to ‘later’ is to carry on, whatever the circumstances, with faith and hope in the knowledge that “on that day”, “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”

What is the role of art in Christian life/worship?

Beauty is that which moves the affections and passions in a pleasing way. So when I say that I have an insatiable desire to experience beauty, that is to say, I long to be moved – I desire an ordering of things which upon observation causes me deep seated joy at the core of my soul.

Art is the creation of beautiful things. Dostoevsky’s Prince Myshkin says “beauty will come and save the world.” Call me an Idiot, but I believe him.

Beauty has the possibility of restoring humanity’s outlook on the world from a dominating view to a marveling one, thus causing us to relate ourselves to the world with amazement and thankfulness. In other words, the realization of beauty will teach us that the material world is not merely for utilization, it is for appreciation. Beauty enables us to be grateful for what has been donated to us – the world and everything in it – rather than to exploit it.

The way in which we judge what is ugly or beautiful is in many ways analogous to the way in which we judge right and wrong. In this sense, aesthetics is the mother of ethics. In a world where morality and meaning have eroded to the point of virtual non-existence, we have yet to entirely forget our sense of beauty. As long as we still have aesthetic good taste there is hope that we can continue to appreciate righteousness, and thereby be drawn to the beauty of God.

May the church be full of art and artists – may the world be moved to believe.

What is the Kingdom of God?

The Kingdom of God is the central theme in Jesus’ preaching. It is like a fishing net, a mustard seed, a ball of yeast, a treasure buried in a field, a master forgiving debts. You must forget your family to find it; you must leave your riches to squeeze into it; you must be born from above to see it. Perhaps the best definition is seen in Jesus’ prayer for it:

“Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10)

The Kingdom of God is where God’s will is done: Where sin has no hold, where death has no sting, where the accuser is thrown down, where swords are beat into ploughshares, where the lion lays down with the lamb, where widows and orphans are loved, where cooking pots are holy like vessels in the Temple, where there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female.

With the way the world is today, the pain and suffering, the malicious treatment of one person to another, this Kingdom seems pretty far off. Yet Jesus also says:

“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near” (Mark 1:15)

There has been a definitive and irreversible victory over sin, death, and the powers of rebellion in Christ. The sick are healed, the lame walk, the dead are raised, the captives are set free, the veil has been torn, and the spirit is poured out on all flesh. The war is won. He is on the throne.

How do we know? The Church is our proof. The Church is a sign. It is a sign that makes real that which it signifies. It is an outward sign of a spiritual reality. It is a sacrament of the Kingdom. Although we don’t always look it quite as well as we should, the Church persists in history as an assurance that what Jesus has accomplished has taken hold and will take hold in the fullness of time.

What is the Gospel?

I once received the ‘gospel’ photocopied on canary yellow, stuck under my windshield. There was a three bullet outline about how to “go to heaven”, along with a bold, italicized headline encouraging readers to “Get a better life using God.”

Three point outline -– Should it really be that simple?

“go to heaven” –- Is that all there is to it?

“using God” –- Do you take God in liquid or pill form?

Of course I criticize because I love. I passionately believe in the revolutionary liberating power of the Gospel of Christ. But there must be something more to it than what it sometimes becomes. These days of ours, in which there is a crying need for a robust Christianity to feed the needs of a spiritually starving people, demand a Gospel that will satisfy, not just another appetizer from Oprah and Dr. Phil.

So what does this meaty Gospel look like?

“and the Word became flesh and lived among us”

The Gospel, signified most fully in Christ, is that God desires to communicate his very self to all humanity. The offer has “divinizing” effects on human nature, as God graciously makes himself a constitutive part of human nature. This process deepens over time through sanctification, at last realized in beatific vision.

In the reverse, with the Incarnation, human nature is taken up for all time into the reality of God. God has made the human to participate in the divine.

“By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”

We have been given an invitation to cut in on the ecstatic Triune dance of dynamic interrelated love for all eternity.

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Now the dwelling of God is with humanity, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.’”

Good News.

What are human beings for?

In the reality of the Triune life we learn that God is inherently disposed towards giving himself to another: ‘Father’ expresses himself in the whole through the eternally generated ‘Son’, at once creating a space in God which is held open by ‘Spirit’, and an utterly profound union that is bound together by ‘Spirit.’ The Trinity is God giving himself so completely to the other that the otherness is fully himself.

This mystery teaches us something profound about human life. While the divine processions of ‘Son’ and ‘Spirit’ must be radically differentiated from the creation of ‘Adam’, there is a sense in which they are not totally distinct. God is in his very self prone to create, to give and share life with others. The welcome to others that is rooted in the triune life spills over, freely, in the act of creation, and does so most fully in the creation of human beings. God was not forced to create in order to be fully himself, but it is precisely because he is fully himself – his triune self – that humans come to be.

What does this tell us about what we are for?

God made us to give himself to us. We exist because he wants to share. We are because God loves to love.

We are rain barrels to catch the flood; empty vases needing flowers; hungry stomachs craving bread of heaven; ears to hear the still small voice; incomplete puzzles awaiting a divine piece.

“Here I am. I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.”

Open up!

Necessary Goods

"Father Mackenzie,
wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave --
No one was saved!
All the lonely people --
Where do they all belong?"

This lyric always strikes me. I think it is at the heart of another problem seen by many in the Church today - the loss of mission and the rise of institution.

The Church is not worthy of the name if it is not living a resourceful witness, concretely addressing people's daily needs. We need to be in the trenches living the Commission and struggling to make it reality, not in ivory towers congratulating ourselves on a job well done. As Hans Hoekendijk put it, "mission isn't everything, it's the only thing." We are called to spread the Kingdom, not the Church.

However, allow me to play - I won't say Devil's - the Church's advocate on one point here. (My Catholic sentimentality again rears its head)

Many who analyze the history of the Church will evoke in one form or another the notion of institutionalization. Typically the response is to lament the seemingly inherent human tendancy for social groups to form into hardened structures. Some are more irenic, willing to say that institutions are, at best, necessary evils.

However, there are some serious problems with the notion of necessary evils. If institutions are so evil, why are they so prevalent? What is it that pushes human communities to develop concretized forms, be it families, social clubs, governments, and religious groups? Do we write it off completely as a result of the fall?

I think that is a bit unfair and totalizes human depravity just a little too much. Certainly human social interaction is defaced by sin and this can cause our institutions to become perverted idols. However, can we leave some room that this seemingly universal human characteristic is at least in part from God? "It is not good for man to be alone"

Can we consider that institutional forms arise to provide an efficient means to achieve certain recurrent needs within the community, and that while this happens in part based merely on human practicality subject to the taint of sin, that it can also be the work of the Holy Spirit leading us to develop a system of oversight in order to benefit the outworking of the mission?

For example, a rec hockey league, in order to play the game, has certain recurrent needs: Equiptment, an arena to book, money to pay for ice time, a schedule, teams to play each other, etc. An institutional structure needs to be put in place in order to make this easier on the players so that they can just go out and play hockey. While it might seem like these details are a burden on the game, from another perspective they exist for the good of the game because without them it couldn't be played at all. From this angle, the institution promotes the common good because it releases the players to focus on their goals rather than worrying about internal needs.

Could this be true of the Church as well? Could it be that we require certain people and plans to regulate and fulfill the tasks of administration in order to free up others to do the other work. Wouldn't it be true then that these same structures, when working at their best, are actually also on the side of the mission as well?

This is not to deny that institutions can be deformed and used to promote group biases and maintain power. These are the besetting sins that come with the territory. But, by God's grace, they can also be instruments of the divine. They can be more than necessary evils, they can be necessary goods. Rather than abandoning them altogether, why not engage in constant vigilance against their distortions towards reconscilation?

Peace be with you.

Theodrama

I recently was given links to a couple blog/forums of some stimulating friends of years gone by, Edmontonians all. Dissatisfaction with the Church has lead them to some significant thinking and rethinking about the future, or lack therof, of the Old Evangelicalism. One of the percieved problems seems to be a Church that glories in itself and its doctrine rather than mucking it up in the dirt of human history.

I believe this discussion may benefit from an explanation of the contrast between what are called "epic" and "dramatic" visions of the Christian life. My vocabulary here builds from the work of the Swiss Catholic theologian Hans urs Von Bathasar. I think much of it will resonate with some of the concerns I've seen expressed here by others. I hope it might supply some categories to articulate the differences between the developing understandings of the nature and mission of the Church, and that of classical Protestant Evangelicalism.

The epic play is one in which the reader knows the story and how it ends. "Epic" approaches to theology, most common in modernity, are essentially spectatorial and depict the Christian life from the outside and with a degree of extraction, like a painting that captures a whole narrative in one frame. A true dramatic play is full of shift, suspense and surprise - throwing the reader into the fray of confusion along with the characters. Thus a theologically "dramatic" approach allows recognition that we are still on the way, that the play is still unfolding, that we are a part of it, and that our understanding, and especially our desire to claim total comprehension (and thus quasi-apocalyptic resolution) of our situation, should be chastened by the recognition that more awaits us in the future.

An epic minded Christian will be interested in a tidy system of belief and practice and will expect that the plot will run along mechanically towards a predictable end; he will want his Church to be a blueprint of completeness, normativity, universal application, and systematic coherence. This leads to an attitude that claims to have all the answers, and nothing more to learn. This is painfully all too familiar.

The dramatic follower of Christ revels only in the boast of the Apostle Paul - in the Cross of Jesus Christ. She will endure struggle, growth, and decline, twisting and turning with the plot, aware that God will have some surprises in store regarding how things turn out in the end. She will have an expectation of learning from unexpected partners in the play - truth from other religions, lessons from the social outcast, etc. This is a breath of the Spirit of renewal.

Evangelicalism struggles to be reborn from the epic to the dramatic. Ecclesia semper
reformanda est.

For your consideration and encouragement, the contemporary Catholic Church, although not without its own issues and remaining epic qualities, has been on the move in the latter direction as well. Stereotypically much more tradition oriented and institutionalized than conventional Evangelicalism (although some Evangelical churches are far more wooden in their views but just don't acknowledge it on paper), there is a deep-rooted Catholic spirituality that embraces the dramatic divine-human interplay and celebrates and encourages a faith that is real, earthy, sincerely communal, and holistically missional. While it is sometimes incorrectly characterized as a massive unchangeable religious monolith, the Catholic Church has, and in fact always is undergoing periods of tremendous shift and development. Perhaps its greatest strength, and the reason it has lasted the test of time, is its ability to understand that God's Revelation is dynamic enough to allow itself to be dramatically translated for new times and places, and that the Church must be embracing of new forms of worship and new doctrinal expressions. Sometimes this seems a slow process, but sometimes things happen fast.

In the new evolution, we will have partners we do not expect.

Rahner was an amateur

Karl Rahner was a giant of Catholic theology in the 20th century (A lot of his writing was published in the 1960's and 70's). He engaged with the Wittgensteinian idea of language in multiple levels of meaning - i.e. that language doesn't stand still but shifts in its meaning all the time. He was also very quick on the uptake that 'Systematic' theology was over: as a late modernist ("pre-post-modern"?), he was already setting about writing theology in a different form. He called it 'Investigations'.

Rahner, as a Catholic, was from a tradition that holds continuity in absolute importance: For a Catholic, evolution isn't an option. Somehow though, Rahner was able at the same time to be faithful to his tradition, while being completely engaged with the culture and changing ideas of the period in which he lived, and developing and re-expressing theological ideas in forms that rendered them meaningful within their context. (Although, it must be said, he's not an easy read! When his brother embarked upon an English translation, someone encouraged him, saying "It would be so good to see Karl's work translated into English!" The brother wryly commented, "It would be good to see it translated into German!")

Rahner described himself as an 'Amateur'. He wanted the freedom of NOT being a professional theologian - with all the baggage that brings - so he placed his emphasis on being a priest, thus gaining the space to do theology, to some extent at least, on his own terms. But mostly, he described himself as an 'Amateur' in the original meaning of the word - someone who does something not through obligation, but simply for the love of it.

I like the description of doing theology that says its like "a little boy playing in the mud". I think, like mine, Rahner's eyes would have twinkled at that idea too.

Theosis

Anyone who's listened closely to the words of the Catholic Eucharistic liturgy will remember that it contains words something to the effect of "by the mystery of this water mixed with wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ, who humbled himself to share in our humanity". In one of his letters, St. Athanasius, the fourth-century defender of the faith, made his famous statement that the Son of God became man "that he might deify us in himself." In his great work, On the Incarnation, he wrote similarly that Christ "was made man that we might be made God." Peter writes in his second epistle that our Lord's "divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness," so that through his promises we "may participate in [literally, "become sharers (koinonoi) of"] the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires" (2 Pet. 1:4). All of these examples speak of the doctrine that is known variously under the synonymous names of theosis, deification, divinization, or, as I prefer, participation in God.

The idea of deification, of humanity somehow participating in the Divine, is an idea more likely associated these days with New Age or Eastern religions such as various branches of Buddhism. In reality however, this is doctrine with Christian roots as far back as the ante-Nicene period (roughly the late 2nd to 3rd Century A.D.), and is found to a surprising extent throughout Christian history, despite it being practically unknown to the majority of Christians today (and even many theologians) in the Church of the West. In Orthodox theology however, it is a controlling doctrine. I would go so far as to suggest that it is not too much to say that the divinization of humanity is the central theme, chief aim, basic purpose, or primary religious ideal of Orthodoxy. With the growing interest in fostering dialogue and mutual understanding between Eastern Orthodox and Evangelical Christians, I believe it is essential that theosis studies be pursued. We Evangelicals may receive considerable benefit from a clear understanding and judicious appropriation of the doctrine. This is so particularly in light of the crying need for a robust biblical theology of the Christian life that will refute and replace the plethora of false spiritualities plaguing contemporary Church and society. Perhaps it is my own hunger for such a spiritual life that I have of late been captured by this concept and have felt the need to explore it further. In the coming weeks I will probably toss out a few thoughts here and there as I sort through some ideas and try to take hold of them for my own life. Those of you who have started to read some of my posts on this blog will likely see a few of my steps in that process. I understand that the territory I may venture into is new and that I may sometimes sound like I've gone off the deep end. Try not to worry too much if I sound like a wacko - I'm probably just speculating something a little out there to help me define the line of Orthodoxy (theology by reduction as my friend Joel and I so often do in our heretic humor). It is my hope that through a careful study of theosis which both affirms and critiques, this venerable concept might be appropriated in a way that is attractive to the contemporary North American Evangelical Church and that enriches the way we live out our Christianity.

At this point I'm just beginning to pull together some thoughts on the subject. At present, all I have to put forward is my working personal definition of theosis in language that I think is more comfortable and customary for Evangelical Christians. As I think on it more, I hope to draw some conclusions on how this doctrine can make a difference in practical life matters, as well as answer some of the tough issues it raises in regards to such things as the Incarnation of Christ and the nature of humanity in our Eschatological state.

But for now, my definition: With the fall of humanity and the advent of sin, we did not loose the image of God we were created with, but rather we damaged the likeness (Gen. 1:26). Theosis, as I understand it, is the reintegration of the divine likeness of humanity's original creation back into our human natures which have been seriously distorted by the fall. This work of redemption was made possible by the hypostatic union, death, and resurrection of the eternal Logos who was Incarnate in the historical person we know as Jesus of Nazareth. The process occurs today through the application of divine grace and the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, conforming the redeemed person into the likeness of Christ and transitioning the believer from mortality to immortality so that we are enabled to participate in the bliss and beatific vision of eternal communion with God. In this life Christians grow more and more into the very likeness and character of God, as God was revealed in the man Jesus Christ. This is more than the customary Protestant concept of sanctification, however. In theosis, while there is no ontological change of humanity into deity, there is a very real impartation of the divine life to the whole human being - an ontological sharing in the Triune life of God, yet never in such a way that theosis means sharing in God's essence (nature), because the nature of God is utterly transcendent and therefore inaccessible to any created reality (thus all forms of pantheism are firmly rejected). Our deification will only be realized in its fullness in the age to come, after the resurrection of the dead. This union has, nevertheless, to be fulfilled ever more and more even in this present life through the redemption of our corruptible and depraved human nature as we move towards eternal dwelling with God face to face.

I'm not sure if that's of any benefit for anyone to read, but it certainly is helpful for me to write. I'd appreciate any questions or comments anyone might have on the subject, and I hope to return to it periodically over the coming weeks.

Peace out.

The Soliloquy

From his seat in the back row, Kyle perchanced to think.

I can't believe ENG 383 is Shakespeare and not advanced CAD/CAM. Who cares why Hamlet can't avenge his father's death? I hate my stepfather, but you don't catch me talking to myself about it.

Kyle looked down over the rows of students. Although, he thought, I did think about killing him after he made me get another job to pay for school. It was that time in church. I was embarrassed to be next to him with his singing all loud and out of tune. Every time the minister said something about sacrifice he'd start "Amen"ing. I remember thinking, when the hell did he ever sacrifice anything? He spends most of his life on the sofa sitting on his wide ass watching wide screen TV. He won't even get up to buy his own beer. He makes me bring it on my way home from work. This is supposed to be the best time of my life, and I spend half of it bagging groceries. How could Mom marry such a jerk? Right then I pictured the big ceiling fan in the church dropping down on his head. But then I thought, I wouldn't want him to die in a church. Maybe I could arrange it so the TV would fall and crush him? Well, I guess I don't really want to kill him. I just think about it a lot is all.

Kyle glanced at his watch. My God, he thought, another half-hour? Won't this class ever end?

If God is for me who can be against me?

Me...