Axiom not Analogy

You either loved geometry or you hated it. We all learned Euclidean geometry which has five axioms. And yes, I’m hurting people’s heads, sorry, I promise this goes somewhere on a Trinity Sunday. An Axiom is just something that is or at least is taken as something that is. In Euclidean geometry the famous axiom is that parallel lines never cross. Or at least that is the simple rendering of it. And then you learn a bit about non-Euclidean geometry, usually polar. Because lines of longitude are parallel, but they meet at the poles. Euclidean geometry you could say is a limit case. It holds in the common sense human scale, but if you get really big or really small that axiom breaks. It is not a universal one. Parallel lines can cross. And all the rest of Euclidean geometry is built on the foundation stones of those axioms.

Many Trinity Sunday attempts are attempts at analogy. You know them all I’m sure: St. Patrick’s clover, The Sun (which is actually perfectly Arian), the apple (which has its own CPH book that I remember loving as a kid, and so is probably the seed of my bad theology). These are all attempts at an analogy for the Trinity itself. And they are all ultimately failures. Because the Trinity is not something you can explain. It is. If you could explain it, it would not be God. Which is more the point of my analogy with geometry. The Trinity is an axiom. Now the biggest difference between Euclid’s axioms and The Trinity is that Euclid’s were asserted from nature. You could look at the world and understand that parallel lines don’t cross. Or the first one, given two points there is a straight line that connects them. These are known by observation. The Trinity is known by revelation. The God who is revealed himself to be this way.

Now this revelation in the history of the Bible was progressive. The Patriarch’s knew God simply as God Almighty (Genesis 17:1). Moses receives “the name” – often rendered Yahweh – which the Hebrews refused to pronounce and wrote in LORD. Your bibles will have LORD all capitalized when that name appears. (Exodus 6:3). Then Jesus talks about Father, Son and Holy Spirit (Matthew 28:19). Now we would say that Father, Son and Spirit with the gift of hindsight make clear appearances in the Old Testament. For example Genesis 1:1-2 with God and the Spirit of God. Or the three men who visit Abraham (Genesis 18). The LORD is a name of the unity of the Godhead. The persons become known through interaction and revelation. Jesus came to reveal the Father (John 1:8, John 14:9, Matthew 11:27). The Holy Spirit testifies to the Son (John 15:26). And it is this revelation of Jesus that is the cornerstone planted. Christ himself is the foundation that everything is built on. If Christ is not raised from the dead, our faith is in vain. If this axiom does not hold, the entire edifice might be pretty like Euclidean geometry, but not eternally true, only locally true. And if God is only locally true, then He isn’t God.

And this is what the Athanasian Creed does so well for me. It is simply the best statement of what is. “The Catholic Faith is this…”. The creeds are the axioms of the faith. If you proved one of them wrong, the entire edifice falls. If you prove something in them wrong, you have proved Christ a liar. And CS Lewis’ trilemma – Liar, Lunatic or LORD – kicks in. It’s a good thing people have been trying to disprove them for 1800 years. They have been rejected – there are always people who will say “this is a hard teaching, who can accept it (John 6:60).” – but disproven? No. “This is the Catholic Faith, whoever does not believe it faithfully and firmly cannot be saved.” The creeds are not analogies or proofs. The creeds are proclamations. This is God. This is The Faith. They are to be believed as foundations for eternal life.

Pentecostal Fire

Pentecost is the forgotten major Christian Holy Day. Like the Holy Spirit is the forgotten person of the Trinity. At least in respectable churches. Let the snake handlers and tongue-speakers have the Spirit. Ok, I’ll drop the joking around.

The Jewish religious calendar had three High Festivals on which all true Jews were supposed to sojourn to the temple: Passover, Pentecost and Sukkot. You know what Passover was, the exit from Egypt. Sukkot was a harvest festival. And like all harvest festivals it looked backwards in thanks for bringing us to this place while looking forward to some better final fulfillment, the last harvest. But what was Pentecost? It was the remembrance of Israel at the foot of Sinai receiving the law. It was the cutting of the covenant of Moses.

Passover fulfillment is rather easy. Jesus is our Passover lamb, and in his resurrection the angel of death passes over us. Sukkot doesn’t have a completed fulfillment. That would happen when Jesus comes to judge the living and the dead. But I often think about All Saints’ Day as a Christian Sukkot. We give thanks for those who came before and where we are. And we look forward to that uncountable number. Pentecost’s fulfillment is ongoing.

Unlike the law of Moses which was a static thing. It was written on stone tablets. It stood outside us as a word. We can read it and understand it and pledge allegiance to it…and then immediately go break it. We can twist it to say what we want it to say. We are all expert lawyers looking for the loopholes. Unlike that static law of Moses, the Christian Pentecost is God’s living covenant with us. It is not outside of us, but resident in our hearts. It is not a word directed at us, but the word of God spoken by us at the right time. It is not the proclamation of what we should do, but what God has done for us. Pentecost is when the things that separate us, primarily sins, are broken down and overcome. The curse of Babel is undone in the working of God. Because God is no longer casting out and spreading abroad but calling all his own to him.

As a living covenant it is one that we can’t control. The Holy Spirit blows when and where and how He wills. Maybe in one time and place and age by Bach and Byrd and Gregorian Chant. And maybe in another by snake handling and tongues. And in yet others by something not yet seen our understood which we can scarcely imagine. This is probably why Pentecost tends to be forgotten. There is nothing scary about a baby placed by his mother in a manger. And Easter is pure joy and triumph. But Pentecost? Pentecost is a walk into the unknown. Young men see visions and old men dream dreams. Male and female alike prophesy. Moons turn to blood. All of which are visual codes for when God shows up, and acts, and changes hearts. Maybe changes our heart. And that can be scary. What does a living God ask of us?

The short answer is love. But that love is rarely our definition. That love is the cross. That love is a fire that burns yet does not consume. At least not the eternal things, even if it might burn away the dross of this mortal frame.

What is Asked of Us?

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you – 1 Peter 5:6

We are probably all cognizant of the 7 deadly sins even if we could not list them (Gluttony, Greed, Pride, Sloth, Lust, Envy and Wrath). Counter that list of vices have been lists of virtues. Paul’s list of the gifts of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). Stretching back further the pagan cardinal virtues: prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance. Which were expanded to the magic number seven by the three theological virtues: faith, hope and love. I don’t know where along the way but when I memorized the cardinal virtues – and it had to be something that was taught because as big of a nerd as I can be I can’t imagine committing them to memory without – but when I memorized the cardinal virtues my list had substituted patience for justice (Prudence, Patience, Fortitude and Temperance). Which I only noticed many years later when someone called out my switch, and how different it made the list. Not that justice or righteousness depending upon how you wish to emphasize it isn’t Christian, but the idea that I can make myself more just or righteous is foreign. I can act with justice toward my neighbor. I have a freedom in civil righteousness. But before God, my virtue counts for nothing. Which is probably why that forgotten teacher substituted it with patience. And patience is a peculiarly Christian virtue. Even Captain Picard said something like that once. Talking with his Klingon officer Worf, “Patience is a human virtue, it is no such thing to a Klingon. (Season 5, Ep23)” as Worf was confronted with a problem of honor. Patience rests uneasily with Pagan or Klingon virtues. Maybe cunning Odysseus would use it, but to the Pagan there is a reason Achilles is the Hero of Heroes; Picard is good, but Captain Kirk is still the mold.

Some of this came to mind when cultural commentator Ross Douthat wrote this week about struggling with the line “why would you bring kids into this *&$3-ed up world.” His struggle was that as governments and institutions grapple with the birth dearth, “at the macro level this never comes up, yet in conversation you hear it all the time.” (And if you don’t know what I mean about birth dearth it is simply that in the US, which is not as bad as some, the number of kids has fallen to 1.62 per woman. 2.1 is considered replacement. And over 30% of adults without children currently say they don’t want any.) And while thinking through today’s Epistle lesson, and preparing for the Joshua Bible Study, something struck me about Mr. Douthat’s puzzle and the virtue of patience.

At least one political ideology at play in the United States is deeply tied to a cluster of ideas. That cluster rests on two planks: utopian in that we can make this world substantially better and atheist in that this world is all there is. Sometimes that combination produces some amazing change. The fierce urgency of now meeting a problem whose time has come. But it also curdles. When the arc of the universe doesn’t bend fast enough. Or a skeptic might say when the progress aimed for isn’t progress at all. Or when a source of hope – a theological virtue after all – is not immediately present. “Why bring kids into this messed up world?”

Christian teaching should be something of an inoculation against such thinking. Given the fact of our fallen natures, this old world is never going to be a Utopia. Although I would simply point out that we live at a fantastic time. Not that there aren’t problems, and in some ways worse because they are spiritual in nature, but materially there is no comparison. We are relieved from the burden of “making the eschaton immanent” – it is not our job to bring the New Jerusalem down. God will do this in his own good time. What is asked of us is hope, and faith and a bit of patience. Hope that the promises of God are true. That he will certainly “exalt us.” Faith that we might “humble ourselves” and accept our daily bread. Faith that blessings, like children, are blessings. And a bit of patience. The Lord knows your frame. “Christ will himself restore, confirm, strengthen and establish you (1 Peter 5:10).”

A Place Called Hell

“in which He [Christ] went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison” – 1 Peter 3:19

That verse from our Epistle Lesson is the typical scriptural basis for what was happening in the Apostle’s Creed line “he descended into hell.” Ephesians 4:8-10 also contains the idea. If both Peter and Paul hadn’t preached something like that, there is no way that line ends up in the creed. You will notice how the Nicene Creed gingerly steps around a couple of things that the Apostle’s takes head on. The Nicene states “he suffered and was buried” avoiding the apostle’s one word “died.” Like the Nicene skips right to the third day. No mention of a harrowing of hell. Confessionally, this all ends up in the Formula of Concord Article 9, https://bookofconcord.cph.org/en/formula-of-concord-epitome/ix_the_descent_of_christ_to_hell/. Personally, this is a doctrine that the artists get right. I have a soft spot for the cartoon-y picture nearby. Satan bound and speared by the cross. Christ leading the souls out of death’s mouth who reaches for them with that too short t-rex arm. The 2^nd Adam extending his hand to help the first Adam who himself is leading Eve. If you google “harrowing of hell” and put it on image search you will see picture after picture and icon after icon very similar. The Harrowing of Hell is a triumph parade of Saints exiting what in Hebrew is Sheol.

My mind has been on Hell for a bit. Not because I’m wishing someone there. Or even because my sins are pressing on me. Like most of these things it started with a study prep. The Augsburg Confession study with the Young Adults (does anyone like being called that? I usually say 20-somethings. Oh to be 20-something and have all your joints still working.), anyway, the Augsburg Confession article 17 doesn’t tip-toe around anything. “He will condemn ungodly people and the devils to be tormented without end.” It came up a 2^nd time in an offhand conversation. And in the way the algorithm works – my phone must have overheard that conversation – the next day Amazon recommends a new book which just happens to be about a modern decent into hell (R.F. Kuang’s Katabasis, which 200 pages into it is really good). And thinking a bit more, it’s a doctrine that you never hear directly preached from the pulpit. For all the cliches about fire and brimstone preaching, I’ve never heard one on the doctrine itself, nor do I remember preaching one. Which probably reflects the emphasis of seminary – “stick to the gospel.”

But if you take that advice to the extreme – ignoring confessions, creeds and Jesus himself – you end up with a weak universalism. “God’s too good of a guy to send anyone to hell. Hell has to be empty, well, maybe except for Hitler.” This is not the strong form of apokatastatis, the philosophical idea that all things will eventually be reconciled to God in Christ, even Satan. The church has never completely condemned that, but she also has never preached it. It isn’t in the bible. We can’t preach it. And if Jesus, the only man who has ever been there and returned, says things like “I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him! (Lk. 12:5 ESV)” philosophical reflection doesn’t give the comfort. Do you really want to spend untold ages in torment waiting for the final reconciliation of all things? Today is the day of grace. Believe in Christ, today.

I see that my word count is at the end. I had intended a bit more about history and concept of: Sheol, the bosom of Abraham, the underworld, the distinctions between Hades and Tartarus. An abode of the dead is a universal idea. It is a vanishingly small number of people, all from the last 200 years, that would say “sorry, this is it.” Even the ancient materialists would say it all comes back, it is all an eternal return. But maybe not knowing much about hell beyond – “you don’t want to find yourself there” – is all we really need. And if you don’t want to find yourself there, I have good news. Christ has won. And he’s given you the victory. Satan’s arrows broken lie, destroyed hell’s fiercest weapon. The gates of Heaven are open. Today.

Social Media and Martyrdom

An internet acquaintance (How do you really talk about para-social relationships? People you don’t really know in real life, but with whom you interact with over social media almost daily? I know they say there is nothing new under the sun, but that really might be something new. Of course you could just not have them, which is probably much smarter, but when have we ever been morally smart? Sometimes I try to imagine Jesus in a social media world and it just doesn’t work.) Anyway, an internet acquaintance observed that he thought the Protestant and Catholic understanding of martyrdom had drifted apart. And of course the first reading for this week is the martyrdom of Stephen, the first martyr. Call it providence.

The conversation came about from a silly “trolley problem” type question that took over social media. There are two buttons: red and blue. Everyone in the world must press one of them. If 50% or more press blue, everyone lives. If 50% or more press red, those who press red live, those who pressed blue die. And a great argument arose. Of course if everyone just pushes red, everyone is ok. Everyone has it within their power to be safe. Yet, lots of people insisted that blue was the only moral choice. You must stand with staving everyone because toddlers and others might not understand what they are pressing.

It really is an ingenious hypothetical question. Do you throw yourself into a blender hoping that at least 50% of people jump in the blender also so it doesn’t get turned on, or do you just not jump in the blender? And that restatement helps, but I don’t think it really gets at the core. Pressing blue/jumping the blender is taking on the vocation of Christ. I will save the world by doing this. And that gets at the question of the role of martyrdom. Can one actively choose martyrdom or is martyrdom something that chooses you?

And this was my internet acquaintance’s observation. Modern Roman Catholicism puts forward people like Maxmillian Kolbe. If you know the story it is definitely inspiring. Kolbe was a Franciscan priest in Auschwitz. Another man was picked for an experimental death by starvation, and Kolbe volunteered himself to take his place. If you don’t know the rest I’d recommend looking it up. And the way that modern Roman Catholicism puts forward martyrs like this is as in persona Christi – in the person of Christ. Pressing the blue button is putting oneself in persona Christi.

My observation in return had three points which I think are very Protestant. The first is that none of us are called to be Christ. There in one Christ. And his one sacrifice for all. We do not re-sacrifice Christ as certain strains of Roman eucharistic theology would say. And putting yourself into that space is just as likely to be a vainglorious usurpation as a noble deed. The second observation is that martyrdom is forced upon us, it is not chosen. You don’t have another choice that gets you out with your soul intact. Now in the case of Kolbe, you can easily say that he could not see his soul intact if he did not volunteer. Likewise you could argue that for pushing the blue button. And while I would not put this on Kolbe, there is a sneaky pride in this. By saying “I push the blue button” I am asserting I am a moral person and care about others. But that is not a pure “good work.” You are not doing it for your neighbor so much as doing it to look good in the eyes of your neighbor. In the problem nobody needs to be a martyr. Just push the red button. Stephen is martyred just for going about his call as a deacon. They stoned him because he spoke the truth. But lying would have cost his soul.

The last observation might sound like a close shave, but instead of being in persona Christi, a protestant understanding of martyrdom is a sharing in the sufferings of Christ (Philippians 3:10, 1 Peter 4:13). It would be a making full the sufferings of Christ (Colossian 1:24). The world hated him, and it will hate his people. Sometimes unto death. A protestant martyr isn’t a second Christ or an image of Christ, but a witness to the power of the resurrection. And that is the original meaning of martyr – witness. You might kill this body. But I do not fear you. I fear the one who can kill the soul.

The Biblical Case for Communism?

Our first reading – in the season of Easter readings from The Acts of the Apostles replace the Old Testament lesson – our first reading is often jokingly picked up as the biblical argument for communism. “All who believed were together and had all things in common…they were distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need (Acts 2:44-45).” But to do that moves the power or causation in the wrong way. A lot of those 18^th and 19^th century “-isms” that never seem to die tend to be Christian heresies.

Communism is an attempt to create just the providence of the Kingdom of Heaven without the King. It is an attempt to pull the glory of the Kingdom into this old world not by spiritual means but by means of the flesh. And so, if you follow the biblical case for communism a bit further in acts you eventually find that the flesh is still too much with us in this old world. They continue to hold everything in common (Acts 4:32ff), but immediately after is the biblical horror story of Ananias and Sapphira who want to be a part, but also want to keep a part. And eventually full biblical communism runs into a real problem when Greek speaking Jews get neglected in the distribution (Acts 6:1). The Apostle’s appoint deacons and that is the last notice of everything in common.

But I believe the lesson remains for us a wholistic picture of goodness of the kingdom. The first thing to notice is that the entire community is not formed from the will of any many or anything material. It is formed around four things: “the apostle’s teaching, fellowship, the breaking of the bread and prayers (Acts 2:42).” The kingdom of God expressed in this church immediately after Pentecost is a Spiritual reality. It is brought into being by the Word of God – the apostle’s teaching. And it is sustained in this world by the practices of the community. The sacramental practice of the breaking of the bread. The spiritual practice of prayer. The human practice of fellowship.

Within this spiritual community “wonders and signs were being done (Acts 2:43).” Now there are many times that I wish the wonders of signs the apostle’s performed were much more prevalent. But even Jesus in his teaching tended to downplay the miracles. “Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek me not because of the sigs, but because you had your fill of bread (John 6:26ff).” It is not that the miracles are nothing, but seeing them created a desire for more bread that you didn’t work for, not a faith in the one who provided. The greatest miracle performed was the creation of the community itself – the community of the forgiven. The church is absolutely unique in this. It’s promise is simply the promise of Christ. Your sins are forgiven. Yes, there is other business that often happens at churches. And there are people, at least there used to be, who joined churches for those opportunities. But the church itself, unlike every other institution of man, exists to forgive sinners. It is purely an institution of faith.

The last note from this picture is that they “had favor with all the people (Acts 2:47).” As a rightly ordered community of love the church is attractive. “The LORD added to their number day by day.” Now as Peter would comment it is still possible for the same people who “see your good deeds and glorify God” because of them to at the same time “speak against you as evildoers (1 Peter 2:11-12).” But that is not the only experience. The community of love which the church is called to be can look inward focused as it gathers around teaching and fellowship and sacraments and prayer, but paradoxically that inward focus on the things of God also creates an outward drive of evangelism. God is creating his people. The LORD is gathering is Kingdom. Day by Day he adds to their number. And it is a Kingdom where we receive exactly what we need from the storehouses of the King.

Just War & Jesus

So, it’s beginning to feel like the 15th century. Emperors beefing with popes over some deep theology that has immediate real world consequences. Now in 700 words, I’m not going to really solve anything. Nor when Emperors and Popes are yelling at each other does a parish pastor have much standing. But I do think it is worth trying to think through something in writing. There is a long Christian history of teaching that comes under the title “Just War” which goes back to Augustine. There is also just as long a history of magistrates ignoring it.

First, let’s look at the most compact form of that teaching possible. It is from paragraph 2309 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Like Luther’s small catechism, and like all classical catechisms, is structured around: The Creed, The Sacraments, The Law, and Prayer. Paragraph 2309 on Just War is from the section on the law, subsection on the Fifth Commandment (“Thou Shall Not Kill”), further subsection on Jesus’ teaching “you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” As a Lutheran, setting this in the section on the law, would tell us: 1) This is how God intends things to be (Civil Use), 2) It shows us where we sin (Religious Use), and 3) It sets for the Christian Life a standard for sanctification. Let me quote this paragraph in full.

2309 The strict conditions for legitimate defense by military force require rigorous consideration. the gravity of such a decision makes it subject to rigorous conditions of moral legitimacy. At one and the same time: – the damage inflicted by the aggressor on the nation or community of nations must be lasting, grave, and certain; – all other means of putting an end to it must have been shown to be impractical or ineffective; – there must be serious prospects of success; – the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. the power of modem means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.

These are the traditional elements enumerated in what is called the “just war” doctrine. The evaluation of these conditions for moral legitimacy belongs to the prudential judgment of those who have responsibility for the common good.

Now let’s summarize. 1) There is no such thing as a just war of aggression. 2) Even if you are aggressed against, there must be a serious cause (“lasting, grave and certain”). 3) It must be a last resort (“all other means…impractical or ineffective”). 4) Probability of success. 5) What is typically called proportionality. (“not produce evils and disorders greater than the evil to be eliminated”).

This is a Mark Brown conclusion, yours may certainly and probably does differ, but using that as a grading scale, probably WW2 and the First Gulf War are the only ones that pass the test. It is the line on proportionality that is probably most easily crossed. For example, saying that we will destroy an entire civilization probably crosses that line. But that moves into what I think is something truly new in Just War theory, the reality of nuclear weapons. Since WW2 increasing number of states have had the ability to destroy all life on the planet, or if not all life to make the Roman’s “salting the earth” look like child’s play. In the current conflict, if you get past the aggression line with the reasoning that Iran has been attacking “The Great Satan” and “The Little Satan” by proxies and other means for decades, you still hit the 2^nd line. Has anything Iran done to us crossed the “lasting, grave and certain” line? The threat of a state getting a nuclear weapon definitely crosses that line.

And that might be where the last sentence is the wisest. “The evaluation of these conditions…belongs to the prudential judgement of those who have responsibility for the common good.” One gets the feeling that the Pope doesn’t trust the prudential judgement of the current President, or his ability to see the common good. The current President returns the distrust in rejecting the Pope’s reasonability in seeing the common good. A common conservative critique of progressive answers, fine intentions but guaranteed to hurt everyone.

Now as you can see from that entire summary discussion, the biblical text beyond the 5^th commandment hasn’t entered into it at all. Just War doctrine is a philosophical argument. And it is largely persuasive. I wish this is how the nations of the earth ruled themselves. But the Bible itself is grittier. Jesus himself seems more realist.

“But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. (Matt. 20:25 ESV)” It is just a statement of fact. The strong do what they will, the weak suffer what they must. That is how this fallen world often works. And in fact, if you read Romans 13 or 1 Peter 2:13ff, the apostles tend to think that this is probably for the good of the world. They say to obey the rulers. If the rulers are terrible and you can’t follow them for the sake of Christ, and they strike you, it is not a call to rebellion, but to rejoice in your sufferings for the sake of Christ. Those rulers are present for God’s reasons. Even if we don’t know them.

Jesus then continues, “It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Matt. 20:26-28 ESV)” This old world and the church just operate by different rules. States are not judged by individual morality. You, me, everyone who desires to follow Christ, must pick up this cross. We are strangers in this world or as Peter would call us “elect exiles.”

You can see why Anabaptists usually don’t vote and never hold office. They view any such authority as incompatible with the Christian life. The standard reply of the church was “no, the wheat and weeds together.” Often referencing John the Baptist’s advice to the solider, “Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” (Lk. 3:14 ESV)” If there was someone who was going to say “separate yourselves” you’d imagine the Baptist would be it. But he does not. His advice is don’t abuse the office but carry out your duties.

The Bible’s ultimate answer is that we await the return of the King. There is one who will rule justly. Right now he sits at the right hand of the Father. And one day shall return in power and great glory. Until then, “the kingdom suffers violence, and the violent bear it away (Matthew 11:12).”

A Concrete Faith

The letter of First Peter doesn’t get the respect or attention is should. It gets chosen to start on Easter 2 because it synchs up with Jesus’ words after the Thomas episode. “Though you have not seen him, you love him (1 Peter 1:8)” aligns nicely with “blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed (John 20:29).” But it is such a great example of the concrete nature of the gospel. We live in the era of the “word salad.” I muse sometimes that we have moved from a print age that produced high rhetoric like the Lincoln-Douglas debates to common rhetoric like the letters Civil War soldiers sent home. Sure, there might be a bit of survival fallacy, the letters that serviced were bound to be moving, but the fact that they were written by 8^th grade educated privates from the middle of nowhere and they are more meaningful than anything produced by professional wordsmiths in the past 50 years says something. That gave way to the bonhomie of radio addresses. Which themselves gave way to television. And as we adapted to television the “sound bite age” came upon us. The most complicated arguments got reduced to 10 sec clips. The Word Salad, in the sports world often called corporate banalities, summed up by Seinfeld as “Yadda, yadda, yadda” was created to avoid the sound bite. It’s a style of speaking to be seen on TV talking but saying absolutely nothing. More air than an angel food cake or a good meringue. Compare that to the concrete of Peter.

Why has God acted? “According to his great mercy.” As God repeated said about himself he is “merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Who God is has lead him to act.

What is the act of God that comes from this mercy? “He has caused us to be born again to a living hope.” We were dead in our sins and God’s mercy has caused us to be born again. We are born again not by re-entering our mother’s womb as Nicodemus quipped, but in hope. Where we did not have hope, we now have hope.

Why do we now have hope? “Through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” If there is one thing we knew it was that dead people are dead. They don’t come back. Until one did. The fact that one did – Jesus Christ – gives hope.

What is the concrete nature of this hope? You have “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for you.” The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the proof that the sacrifice of the cross stands. Heaven has been opened for you. This life may pass away, but your life is in the resurrection. And death no longer has any hold over it.

When do we come into this inheritance? It is “guarded through faith…to be revealed in the last time.” It is yours right now in faith. You can choose to live right now as if this is just the beginning of eternal life. Which it is. And it will be revealed as such at the last time when all the sons of God are revealed (Romans 8:19). So this inheritance is now and not yet. Nothing stops us from living it now by faith. The fullness has not yet been revealed.

Why do we live in this now and not yet? “You have been grieved by various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith…may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” The Christian living by faith, even thought they have not seen, is the highest praise that one can give to God. God has testified and revealed himself. The devil’s first move is to call God a liar. Faith is simply believing what God has said and revealed about himself. He is not liar, but a good and gracious Lord. All creation is meant to render unto God his glory. The Christian who lives by faith does this.

What again is the outcome of this? You “obtain the outcomes of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” Now souls in our day and age might sound like an airy word, but to avoid the idea of cherubs floating on clouds, maybe we should simply gloss soul as self. The outcome of you faith is the salvation of your self, your person, your consciousness, who you are. In the resurrection of Jesus Christ, you, what makes you you, has been saved.

We tend to think of faith lightly. To Peter, that faith is very concrete. And as we read this letter over the Easter season we will learn more.

Easter Prep

Two quick thoughts about almost all the resurrection accounts in the gospels. First, setting aside the Road to Emmaus in Luke, which for some reason is only read in the Easter Season once ever three years (stupid lectionary), they are all rather straight-forward. What I mean by that is they capture some silly things, like John’s 153 fish. They capture some embarrassing things. None of the disciples, who after all had been told this was going to happen, went out. It was only the Mary’s that went out. But they largely are just reports of surprise. “He is not here; He is risen.” It is that report like nature that to me makes them honest. This actually happened. They are not – other than that road to Emmaus – deep theological reflections. Even John’s resurrection accounts are “yeah, I ran faster than Peter after we heard.” Nobody has had the time or even the inclination to theologize. It just is. And the fact of the resurrection is enough by itself that 2000 years later people still can’t accept it. More theology has probably been written trying to deny it than understand it. But the accounts are simple. “He is not here; He is risen.”

The second quick thought might not be so quick. The angels in Matthew tell the Mary’s, “he’s risen, go tell his disciples, he’ll meet you in Galilee.” Then Jesus jump scares them “Greetings!” And Jesus says the same thing, “go to Galilee, I’ll see them there.” Mark’s gospel probably ends with the angel’s announcement to the Mary’s. It is either that, or the original ending of Mark’s gospel was lost. Because what we have as the ending isn’t in any of the great 4^th century bibles. And what we have is clearly a summary from the other gospels and probably the book of Acts with it’s bit about snake handling. Luke has that road to Emmaus which has at least two disciples getting out of Dodge, if for the wrong reasons. And John’s gospel even explicitly has one of the resurrection appearances beside the Sea of Tiberias, which is the Sea of Galilee. That’s where they get the 153 fish. Yet for some reason we think all of this takes place in and around Jerusalem.

We probably think that because of Luke 24:49 where Jesus tells them to wait in the city until they are clothed with power from on high. Of course he tells this to them after he has asked for some fish. Which sounds more like Galilee than Jerusalem. But Luke picks the story back up in Acts and says in Acts 1:4, “he ordered them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father.” Were they in Jerusalem the entire 40 days? Did the plan change from those early morning hours when Jesus said he’d meet them in Galilee? And what does it really matter?

As far as mattering, there is a fittingness to the mission of the church – to proclaim Christ risen to the world, starting in Jerusalem – actually starting from home. Abraham was called to leave home for the land God would give him. Likewise the disciples being called from home with the first target the Holy City has a biblical rhyming quality. Salvation comes from outside of us. It comes from outside of what we would consider holy. It comes to us in the crucified one, from Nazareth, in Galilee.

But the real answer might simply be practical. The disciples had been in Jerusalem for the Passover. The Passover was over. Sunday would be the day all the pilgrims started home. “I’ll see you in Galilee.” The next pilgrimage festival was Pentecost. So they went back to Jerusalem. Jesus ascends, but He tells them to wait in Jerusalem. His Ascencion might have spooked them to flee without his words. Instead, do not be afraid. Stay for the festival. Stay for Pentecost. Because it is about to be fulfilled. The gospels don’t give us a full travel itinerary, but I don’t think we have to read in some “Jesus and the angels were confused” or “they changed plans.” It’s 40 days. You probably go home. Where you just happen to see Jesus as he told you.

Holy Week Preview

I’m still adjusting to the Synod’s liturgical change from a pure Palm Sunday to a Passion Sunday preceded by a Procession of Palms. Synod in its core meaning is “walking together” and I seriously attempt to do so. Part of the constitution of the Synod is both Article 3.7, “encourage congregations to strive for uniformity in church practice,” and Article 6.4, “exclusive use of doctrinally pure agenda, hymnbooks and catechisms in church and school.” Divergence isn’t necessarily heretical, but The Church is bigger than my personal feelings, wants or desires. After about a decade of denial and anger that they had changed it, and a year or two of bargaining, I just accepted the Sunday of Palms and Passion. But accepting that liturgical change on one day in Holy Week, I’ve started to think causes ripples in the entire week.

The biggest one is on Good Friday. My practice before – which is an option in the approved Altar Book – was the collective congregational reading of the passion story in the form of the Tenebrae service. Tenebrae is that service with the steady dowsing of the lights. It was not so much the theatrical elements, although those are fine, but the collective reading of the story. The Passion story is the core memory of all believers. That Good Friday service was a yearly remembrance almost like the Jewish Passover meal. But when you’ve read at least a good part of that on the Sunday prior, just repeating it seemed off.

But there is a very similar Good Friday service – maybe the actual origin of that Tenebrae – that is not about the entire passion – everything from after the Supper to Christ’s burial – but has a much tighter focus. Jesus across the four gospels says seven (7) things from the cross. It is often called the Seven Words from the Cross, or the Seven Last Words. This tighter focus also has roots deep into the Christian past. There are significant musical setting in Latin from the 1500’s, German settings from the 1600’s solidly post Reformation, with maybe Haydn’s 1787 work being the standout. There is also a pop version. Andrew Lloyd Webber kinda ends Jesus Christ Superstar with the seven words.

So, this Holy Week, this is what you can expect. Today, Palms and Passion, is the expansive view of everything. From the crowds singing Hosanna to shouting crucify. From the angst of the Chief Priests, “See the world has gone after him.” To their cruelty mocking him on the cross in what they think is their triumph. From all the disciples gathered to all of them scattered. From the life of a victory parade, to the hurried march to placement in the tomb. Palms and Passion becomes a story of contrasts. What does faith see in the entire scene?

Thursday, Maundy Thursday, is the institution of the Supper. Maybe it is just that I haven’t contemplated it yet. There is another tradition for this night, that of foot-washing. The Maundy comes from Latin Mandatum, mandate or command. The foot-washing is usually paired with the command to “love one another as I have loved you.” But that foot-washing scene is not that one that Jesus tells us to keep doing. On that night he says “do this in remembrance of me,” the this being the Supper. And in a Synod that attempts to hang onto closed communion – the Supper being for those who are baptized and profess belief – a yearly ceremonial focusing on the supper alone seems appropriate.

And Good Friday will maintain the Tenebrae, the dowsing of the lights structure, but it will be focused around those Seven Last Words. And our Hymnbook includes a hymn meditation to go along with them, LSB 447 Jesus, in Your Dying Woes. Having done the Seven Words a couple of times, I think you might be surprised at the emotional effect of meditating on their simplicity. While being tied to the very specific day of Crucifixion, they speak directly to our wants and worries in a powerful way.