Monthly Archives: April 2012

Why Men Shouldn’t be Pastors:

Aside from there being a cross in the female gender symbol and not one in the male’s, why else should men not be pastors.  This comes to us today from another blog.  Hopefully, a bit of tongue-in-cheek helps us take a step towards awareness of the silliness and arbitrariness of gender “essences.”

10. A man’s place is in the army.

9. For men who have children, their duties might distract them from the responsibilities of being a parent.

8. Their physical build indicates that men are more suited to tasks such as chopping down trees and wrestling mountain lions. It would be “unnatural” for them to do other forms of work.

7. Man was created before woman. It is therefore obvious that man was a prototype. Thus, they represent an experiment, rather than the crowning achievement of creation.

6. Men are too emotional to be priests or pastors. This is easily demonstrated by their conduct at football games and watching basketball tournaments.

5. Some men are handsome; they will distract women worshipers.

4. To be ordained pastor is to nurture the congregation. But this is not a traditional male role. Rather, throughout history, women have been considered to be not only more skilled than men at nurturing, but also more frequently attracted to it. This makes them the obvious choice for ordination.

3. Men are overly prone to violence. No really manly man wants to settle disputes by any means other than by fighting about it. Thus, they would be poor role models, as well as being dangerously unstable in positions of leadership.

2. Men can still be involved in church activities, even without being ordained. They can sweep paths, repair the church roof, change the oil in the church vans, and maybe even lead the singing on Father’s Day. By confining themselves to such traditional male roles, they can still be vitally important in the life of the Church.

1. In the New Testament account, the person who betrayed Jesus was a man. Thus, his lack of faith and ensuing punishment stands as a symbol of the subordinated position that all men should take.

Sheep without a Shepherd: An example

The apostles returned to Jesus and told him all that they had done and taught. And he said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a desolate place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they ran there on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things. And when it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the hour is now late. Send them away to go into the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.” But he answered them, “You give them something to eat.” And they said to him, “Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread and give it to them to eat?” And he said to them, “How many loaves do you have? Go and see.” And when they had found out, they said, “Five, and two fish.” Then he commanded them all to sit down in groups on the green grass. So they sat down in groups, by hundreds and by fifties. And taking the five loaves and the two fish he looked up to heaven and said a blessing and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples to set before the people. And he divided the two fish among them all. And they all ate and were satisfied. And they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish. And those who ate the loaves were five thousand men.  (Mark 6:30-44 ESV)

Jesus feeds five thousand men with just five loaves and two fish.  Who is this Jesus?  Where does his power come from?  Is this really a story about who Jesus is?  Of course.  But in the church, we can go (at least) two ways with this.  We can theologize about Jesus’ divinity or power or relationship to Israel, etc.  Or as I’m suggesting, we can (read: should) try to find some core of human existence that this story is addressing.  Why tell it once? Why tell it again?  And again?

The deepest existential crisis according to Bultmann goes something like this: Humans have no control over their own destiny.

In the West, in the places where value is quantified and collected, it is hard to grasp this crisis.  But even the collection of wealth, is evidence that humans are wrestling at the deepest level with controlling their own destinies.  Not only wealth, but resources, including food.

Conservative estimates place certain cities in Jesus’ time at a 70% subsistence level.  Resources were more scarce than today, and they were more hoarded than they are today, so nearly 70% of the population had less than or barely enough to eat.  Both the hoarding of wealth and the struggle to subsist are experiences of this core existential crisis: to control our own destinies.

In some odd illusion, those with resources often attempt to control the destinies of others. Babylon and Persia molding the world with their power.  Caesar exploiting the land for resources, allocating them to Rome.  Herod, the failed ‘shepherd of Jerusalem.’  Yes, Herod failed.  So the people were “without a shepherd.”

One who ought to use power benevolently to guide the destinies of the sheep.

Again, the story:  The disciples were so busy doing Jesus’ work, they didn’t even have a chance to eat.  Famished, they go to be by themselves.  But a crowd gathers again.  Jesus pities them, since the Jerusalem leadership has failed (the people can barely subsist).  And Jesus, tells his hungry disciples to feed the five thousand hungry people.

Notice: Jesus teaches.  But Mark doesn’t mention what he teaches.  And, yes Jesus has superpowers.  But these are secondary.  This is a story about Jesus teaching the hungry disciples to feed the hungry masses.

A story that addresses a core crisis of humanity: subsistence.

Reflections on Disproving God

Yesterday, I posted a story by Peter Rollins, which I called “Disproving God.”

In the narrative, God says to an atheist who has tried to disprove God for many years,

“Dear friend, the task you have set yourself is a futile one. I have watched all these endless years as you poured your being into this endless task. Yet, you fail to understand that your project can be brought to completion only with my help. Your dedication and single-mindedness have not gone unnoticed, and they have won my respect. As a result, I will tell you a sacred secret meant only for a few…. Dear friend, I do not exist.”

I wanted to simply make a note considering this punch line where the true God says, “I do not exist.”  This moment illustrates the gap between the experience of the true God and any ontological (faith-based) claims about God.  In other words the in-the-moment experience of God has no connection with the words, “I do not exist.”  This is the gap I am harping on between the ontological and the existential.

A Saturday Story: Disproving God

Saturday’s are a good day for stories.  Stories are our best attempts to recreate existence.  So on Saturday’s I will aim to host (or write) stories on this blog.  Have a look at the “About” section of this blog, and if you feel you have a story that can contribute, contact me via twitter or the comment section of any blog.

Today’s story is my retelling of one of Peter Rollins’ parables from his book, The Orthodox Heretic.

–

A long time ago there was a great philosopher who had no equal and was the most brilliant philosopher the world had ever known. This man strongly desired to disprove once and for all the existence of God, for he was an atheist, and was constantly horrified by the abuse of religion in the world. He knew this would be a difficult task, but also felt that if anyone was able to do it, it would be him.

Thus, he set about his task. He published many volumes on the subject of God, each one showing more and more how ridiculous and contrived belief in God was, until he published his last volume of writings in his early forties.

However, he was not satisfied; for all of his work thus far only proved that all beliefs and conceptions of God up to that point in history were problematic. He could not say anything about potential future conceptions, for they did not yet exist.

So he continued on his quest, publishing more and more and interviewing more and more and gathering up more and more data until in his early fifties, when he became overwhelmed with despair, for he knew he would never be able to fully discredit belief in God.

Then, late one night as he was sitting in his study, tired and exhausted from his impossible task. He looked at his hands, his fingers, and he was overcome with a great sense of his own humanity and, thereferore his utter limitedness. But all of a sudden, like a prophetic revelation, he felt a certain warmth and light descend over him and became suddenly aware of a presence in the room. Immediately, he knew it was the true God. And God said to him,

“Dear friend, the task you have set yourself is a futile one. I have watched all these endless years as you poured your being into this endless task. Yet, you fail to understand that your project can be brought to completion only with my help. Your dedication and single-mindedness have not gone unnoticed, and they have won my respect. As a result, I will tell you a sacred secret meant only for a few…. Dear friend, I do not exist.”

Suddenly everything felt normal again. The philosopher smiled in satisfaction, and putting his pen down, sold all his books, and resigned from his professorship. Then he spent the rest of his days serving the poor.

Jesus, Torah… again

One commonly hears, especially in church, that Jesus routinely transgressed the Torah, the law of Israel. Indeed, at least one New Testament writer agreed, saying that Jesus “abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances” (Ephesians 2:15). So what about Jesus? Did he observe the Torah like most other Jews of his day, or did he transgress it?

Read more here…

A Fork for a Plant

THEOLOGY DEPENDS ON EXISTENCE

See: Existence precedes theology, first.

It may seem like a simple argument at first, to say that life happens before you think about it.  The real critique is slightly below the surface.  There is no human nature, or divine nature, which is prior to existence.  There is only the relational activity between humans and phenomena, or humans and the divine.  Out of this we build theologies, legitimate them, and perpetuate them.

However, having human theologies (if such a thing were possible) that are irrelevant to human existence is like giving a fork to a plant.  The plant has neither a mouth or a hand, nor does it ingest the foods that the fork could feed to it.

Imagine too a holy book,  full of strange symbols or words, proclaiming a theology disconnected from human existence.  Such a book would probably be thrown away, if it could even exist at all.  And if an individual sought to search for its truths, the next generation would not continue to study it if the truths were not discovered, or if the original sage could not come up with a narrative that linked the book to human existence.  Theology is perpetuated only when it appears to fulfill some existential ‘need.’  Theology depends on existence.

Let’s stop there for now.  Questions? Critiques?  Tomorrow an example from Mark 6:30-44.

Existence Precedes Theology

“Existence precedes essence.”  Life happens, then we think about it.  So too, we encounter various phenomena while existing, and we process all this information, categorizing, defining, creating hierarchies.  So too, life happens, and then we theologize.  For this reason, theology is built out of the concerns of the human.

In the Dali painting, life is primary.  As Two Friars pointed out to me, Christ is in the shape of a womb.  The new life, in darkness, is born out of the pains of birth, to a picture of the world.  A picture that is made after life begins.  Life is prior.

Existence precedes theology.

Bultmannia: University of Edinburgh

Since a portion the church has frowned on Bultmann for his “de-mythologizing,” I will frequently link to some “get-to-know-you” resources for those who want to meet him for the first time or to refresh their knowledge of him.  Below is a video from the University of Edinburgh.  It’s incomplete.  You need a membership to watch the full 30 minute biography.  But this nine minute video is enough to start.

The Never Changing God: An Example

As promised: a petite example of existential interpretation.  So I’ve chosen a petite passage to consider.

For I the LORD do not change; (Malachi 3:6 ESV)

It’s an idea that I heard in Sunday School, you probably did too.  God doesn’t change.  Like Jesus in Hebrews, the same yesterday, today, and forever.

It’s an ontological claim, about God’s being.  It’s theology.  Maybe, for some churches, it’s even doctrine.  But for me it’s quite an irrelevant statement.

Let’s pretend even, that this holds true for the rest of the canon.  God never changes (I doubt that it does hold true).  A theologian may ask, “What does it mean for God to never change?  God will not break covenant?  God will love me the same forever?

But an existential analysis asks instead, “What in human existence finds it necessary to have an unchanging God?”  If the biblical writer included it, it must have been important on a human level.

I do not intend to answer this question in full, but here are some suggestions.  Human leadership is inconsistent and unjust.  The people are being ruled by foreign powers who go back on their word because they can.  Humans have too high expectations for human leadership.

Now, as I stated in the proposal for this blog, the priority for the church should not be to form a theology or doctrine around such a statement, but to constantly address the problems of human leadership.

In this example, I have not dug down to the existential crisis.  As it was a simple petite example, I simply wanted to exemplify the types of questions and solutions involved in such an interpretation.