Category Archives: Books

Beth Felker Jones – Faithful: A Theology of Sex (Review, Pt. 1)

Felker Jones, Beth, Faithful: A Theology of Sex 
(Ordinary Theology Series; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2015), 108pp. 
ISBN 9780310518273

Felker-Jones, BethIn her new little book on sex, Beth Felker Jones, associate professor of theology at Wheaton College, Illinois, and author of The Marks of His Wounds: Gender Politics and Bodily Resurrection and Practicing Christian Doctrine: An Introduction to Thinking and Living Theologically, takes as her primary datum St. Paul’s declaration, “The body is for the Lord” (1 Corinthians 6:13):

Married or single, the body is one hundred percent for the Lord. … My hope is that we might move to a theology of the beautiful body, a theology of the sexual body, in which the body becomes—not an idol—but something like an icon. … Might the process of faithfully living in the body, including sexual discipline, be understood as something like the writing of an icon? (100-101)

In a litany of memorable one-liners scattered throughout the text, Jones declares that sex is (always) real, sex is good—though sex can also be bad, because sex has gone wrong; therefore sex must be freely given and freely received, because ultimately, for the Christian, at least, sex is kingdom work. Although part of Zondervan’s new Ordinary Theology series, this is anything but “ordinary theology.” Rather, it is a radical and often profound theology wonderfully packaged for the everyday reader and addressing an ordinary aspect of everyday reality. Actually, it is counter-cultural theology, robust and biblical, sensitive to the mystery of the wonder and brokenness that comprises human sexuality, deeply aware of the cultural and power dynamics that shape western culture, and attuned to the relational and personal dynamics which so deeply inform our sexuality and sexual practice.

In the first of her eight short chapters Felker Jones introduces her topic by arguing that to be human is to be embodied, and that what we do as embodied creatures, matters. Our existence in a larger reality means we are accountable within that larger reality for how we relate to others and use our bodies. “Sex matters because embodiment goes to the very heart of what it means to be human” (17). Thus, and radically in our cultural age, sex is about God, about who God is and how God relates to his creation. Sex is also about us and what it means to be truly human. Sex, then, is a witness to the faithfulness of God, and sexual ethics remain an essential aspect of Christian life.

Not only is (all) sex “real,” for Felker Jones, sex is also good. “The Christian faith is profoundly for the body and for the joys of the bodily life” (22). Therefore she rejects all forms of dualism and insists that God’s good creation intends our embodiedness and embodied relations, sexual differentiation, and marriage. “The one-flesh union of Eden—marked by commitment and mutuality and partnership and delight—is God’s good, creative, intention for sex” (38).

This created goodness has, however, been drastically impacted by the reality of human sinfulness. Sex has “gone wrong,” having been distorted in life under the conditions of sin. Despite the cultural difficulty of speaking about any kind of sex as “bad sex,” Felker Jones insists that,

We need the tools to discern when sex tells the truth about God and supports human flourishing and when sex denies the reality of God and is harmful to human beings. We must have a way to diagnose the situation we’re in, to know when we’re not embodying the truth of the God who is faithful. We need to be able to recognize when we’re embodying, instead, brokenness and idolatry and sin. (41)

Thus, “good sex” enables, creates, testifies to or delights in the three “goods” of sex: fidelity, fruitfulness, and the relationship of the husband and wife to God, whereas “fallen sex” is selfish, sex contrary to God’s good intentions, sex that exploits or denigrates, that is bought and sold, that preys on the nakedness of others, that is predatory, irresponsible, commodified or abusive (42-50). This is porneia, and the body is not for porneia but for the Lord.

In her fourth chapter Felker Jones applies the logic of death and resurrection to sex such that “pornication” is killed, and desire is reconstituted in ways that are equal, mutual, faithful and covenantal. Although sexual sin is pervasive and intensive it is not the end of the story. Redeemed sex has no place for commodification or exploitation of the other, but flourishes in a covenantal context of friendship and mutuality.

(Continued tomorrow…)

New Books on Bonhoeffer

Strange GloryBooks on Bonhoeffer continue to flow off the presses, testimony to his enduring appeal and significance. Although I can make no claim to expertise in Bonhoeffer’s work, I do retain an interest in his life and theology, and would like one day to deepen my exposure to his thought, and understanding of his theological vision and contribution. So I was interested, last year, to hear some controversy around a new Bonhoeffer biography by Charles Marsh. Strange Glory: A Life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer (SPCK, 2014) raised uncomfortable questions about Bonhoeffer, especially for some evangelicals. Earlier this year the book won Christianity Today’s award for best book in History/Biography for 2014.

Bonhoeffer as Youth Worker

The same issue of Christianity Today (Jan-Feb 2015) features a cover article about Bonhoeffer as youth minister, and considers the implications of his ministry and thought in the Germany of the 1930s for youth ministry and churches today. Andrew Root, author of Bonhoeffer as Youth Worker (Baker Academic, 2014) argues that most of Bonhoeffer’s ministry from 1925-1939 was among children and youth: “Bonhoeffer is primarily not a theologian doing youth ministry, but a youth minister doing theology” (32). He cites a thesis written by Bonhoeffer about youth ministry sometime in the mid-1930s when the Nazis were harnessing the youthful spirit, hearts and minds of the nation:

Since the days of the youth movement, church youth work has often lacked that element of Christian sobriety that alone might enable it to recognize that the spirit of youth is not the Holy Spirit and that the future of the church is not youth itself but rather the Lord Jesus Christ alone. It is the task of youth not to reshape the church, but rather to listen to the Word of God; it is the task of the church not to capture the youth, but to teach and proclaim the Word of God (35, emphasis added).

Bonhoeffer's Seminary VisionThe book promises to be a rich and rewarding read not only for youth ministers, but for all who love and serve in the church. The Christianity Today article is also worth reading.

Finally, Paul House has published a book that has immediate interest and relevance for my own work: Bonhoeffer’s Seminary Vision: A Case for Costly Discipleship and Life Together (Crossway, 2015). The final chapter, entitled “Life Together Today: Some Possibilities for Incarnational Seminaries,” just demands to be read by those in theological education. I hope to read it; perhaps over summer I will have the opportunity. If so, I will post a review. Or better, what if several of us read it and begin a conversation…?

 

Reading a Wordsmith…

David Bentley Hart 2In the last week I have been reading David Bentley Hart’s The Doors of the Sea, which I bought because (a) I had heard more and more of Hart as a theologian with a growing reputation, and (b) it looked like a popular treatment of theodicy, the subtitle being Where Was God in the Tsunami?. Hart is an eastern orthodox theologian, philosopher and cultural commentator who has taught at a number of institutions in North America.

The Doors of the Sea is only a short work (109 small-format pages), and although I am only halfway through the book, I now know more than I did previously—for example, that Hart is a wordsmith—a man of letters, exhibiting a breadth of knowledge encompassing diverse disciplines and several languages, writing with a beautiful, literary hand, all the while straining and extending the limits of my vocabulary with words such as supererogatory, mellifluous and littorals (at least I have seen them before), as well as catenate, captious, longanimity, irrecuperable and vegetal (I can guess what these last two mean), apotropaic, delitescent and umbratile; this, together with his very long sentences making for quite dense prose—and which I am trying to emulate in this sentence!—has further enlightened me that this is also probably not the popular level book that I had initially anticipated.

But it is a very good and thought-provoking book, and I will write a review on it when I am finished. In the meanwhile I will keep the trusty dictionary.com at the ready (though even that was insufficient for three of the words, and I had to go to the Oxford English Dictionary!). To finish, and to further whet your appetite, let me give a sample of a long sentence read yesterday:

As soon as one sheds the burden of the desire for total explanation—as soon as one has come to see the history of suffering as a contingency and an absurdity, in which grace is ever at work but upon which it does not depend, and has come also to see the promised end of all things not as the dialectical residue of a great cosmic and moral process, but as something far more glorious than the pitiable resources of fallen time could ever yield—one is confronted with only this bare choice: either one embraces the mystery of created freedom and accepts that the union of free spiritual creatures with the God of love is a thing so wonderful that the power of creation to enslave itself to death must be permitted by God; or one judges that not even such rational freedom is worth the risk of a cosmic fall and the terrible injustice of the consequences that follow from it (68-69).

The “Practical” Trinity – Catherine Mowry LaCugna

Catherine LaCugnaIn my Introduction to Systematic Theology class I often have students research one of the “great” theologians or engage a classical theological text. I am usually troubled that my selection is entirely male, although thankfully, that is now beginning to change with some outstanding female theologians emerging. The reason for the selection is simply that the history of Christian thought has, until recent decades, been largely a male story. This year, however, I decided I had to change this imbalance and so included a reading by Catherine Mowry LaCugna alongside those by Athanasius, Luther and Barth. I suspect that LaCugna’s God For Us will not actually be viewed in the future as a “classic,” although it was a celebrated volume when it was published in the early 1990s and still commands much respect today. The feminist Catholic theologian died prematurely in May 1997, at only forty-four years of age.

In our seminar we focussed on LaCagna’s final chapter, “The Practical Trinity.” LaCugna writes beautifully and passionately and has an amazing vision of “the household of God” understood through the lens of Jesus’ life and teaching.

The form of God’s life in the economy dictates both the shape of our experience of that life and our reflection on that experience. Led by the Spirit more deeply into the life of Christ, we see the unveiled face of the living God. God’s glory is beheld in Jesus Christ who is the instrument of our election, our adoption as daughters and sons of God, our redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our sins, and the cause of our everlasting inheritance of glory (Ephesians). In order to formulate an ethics that is authentically Christian, an ecclesiology and sacramental theology that are christological and pneumatological, a spirituality that is not generic but is shaped by the Spirit of God, Spirit of Christ, we must adhere to the form of God’s self-revelation, God’s concrete existence as Christ and Spirit. The purpose of the discipline of theology is to contemplate and serve that economy, to throw light on it if possible, so that we may behold the glory of God, doxa theou, ever more acutely.[1]

For LaCugna, the doctrine of the trinity is a way of contemplating the mystery of God and of ourselves, a heuristic framework for correct thought about God and ourselves in relation to God.[2] All correct thought about God begins here, with what God has actually done in the economy of salvation in Christ and through the Spirit. Here we may know the God who comes to us.

At the heart of all reality, including the household of God, is the personal God whose being God for Us by Catherine Mowry LaCugnais communion, the God who exists toward and for another. The reign of God, the household of God exists where this form of life—exemplified by Jesus—is evident and practised. Jesus is both the exemplar and the criterion of the reign of God, both in his life and in his teaching. According to LaCugna, Christian orthopraxis must correspond to what we believe to be true about God, and what is true about God is known via his activity in the economy of salvation.[3]

The divine archē, the divine origin and rule, is of great concern for LaCugna, who insists that the “monarchy” of God refers to the trinity rather than simply to the Father alone. God’s monarchy is “relational, personal and shared,” a rule of “personhood, love and communion.”[4] LaCugna resists the substantialist ontologies that have often characterised Christian reflection on the being of God. God is not a divine “substance,” but three persons. She argues that the Cappadocians understood the trinity such that “hypostasis (person) was predicated as prior to and constitutive of ousia (nature).”[5] This establishes the ontological priority of personhood over nature, and so provides the ontological ground of relation and communion.

LaCugna suggests that the doctrine of the trinity elaborated by the Cappadocians “dared the Christian imagination” to think of God differently, and so to relinquish all forms of domination and hierarchy.[6] This, perhaps, takes us to the very heart of LaCugna’s project: to stir and renew the Christian imagination in ways shaped by the triune God as revealed in the economy of salvation. That is, to imagine a church and a society grounded in values of communion, inclusion, relationship, personhood, equality, mutuality and generous self-giving service. “This is the lofty vocation of the members of the church of Jesus Christ, to be stewards (oikonomoi) of God’s economy, to serve others (diakonia), to preach the message of the reign of God (kerygma), to promote communion (koinonia).”[7]

Living trinitarian faith means living God’s life: living from and for God, from and for others. Living trinitarian faith means living as Jesus Christ lived, in persona Christi: preaching the gospel; relying totally on God; offering healing and reconciliation; rejecting laws, customs, conventions that place persons beneath rules; resisting temptation; praying constantly; eating with modern-day lepers and other outcasts; embracing the enemy and the sinner; dying for the sake of the gospel if it is God’s will. Living trinitarian faith means living according to the power and presence of the Holy Spirit: training the eyes of the heart on God’s face and name proclaimed before us in the economy; responding to God in faith, hope and love; eventually becoming unrestrictedly united with God. Living trinitarian faith means living together in harmony and communion with every other creature in the common household of God, “doing all things to the praise and glory of God.” Living trinitarian faith means adhering to the gospel of liberation from sin and fractured relationship: liberation from everything that misleads us into false worship, from everything that promotes unnatural, nonrelational personhood, from everything that displaces us to an exclusive household, from everything that deceives us into believing self-aggrandizing archisms.[8]

Why do I suspect that LaCugna’s work will not become a “classic”? Although I affirm her approach to the trinity in general terms, and appreciate her insights into the implications of trinitarian doctrine for practical Christian faith and life, I find that I cannot follow her in collapsing the immanent trinity into the economic trinity. I prefer to follow Barth here, and the tradition more generally, than Rahner or Moltmann. It is certainly the case that we know the immanent trinity only by means of God’s self-revelation in the economy, and that what we know of God via the divine self-revelation is true and faithful knowledge. Nevertheless, God is more than has been revealed though not other than what has been revealed. Further, if I understand LaCugna correctly—and I grant the point that I may not—her construal of the trinity makes God dependent on the creation for God’s own being and is thus a panentheistic doctrine of God that compromises both the divine sovereignty and the grace of creation and redemption. The tradition does not make this leap, and I suspect that future orthodoxy will not either. God, fully God within the divine triune being prior to and without the creature, turned toward that which is not God in creation and redemption graciously welcoming and including the creature in the divine life. Barth’s insistence on the immanent trinity retains this emphasis.

[1] LaCugna, God for Us, 378.

[2] Ibid., 379.

[3] Ibid., 383.

[4] Ibid., 390, 91.

[5] Ibid., 389.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid., 401.

[8] Ibid., 400-01.

New Volume on the Doctrine of God

Sonderegger_Katherine_photo2014I first came across Kate Sonderegger because she is a Barth scholar. Her early work was on Barth and the Jews, and she has written a number of Barth essays in various volumes. She is another of a growing number of prominent female theologians, one who has just published the first volume of a projected series on systematic theology. Her first volume is on the doctrine of God and here it appears she is establishing her credentials as an independent thinker, certainly breaking with the path blazed by Barth and followed by so many others in the twentieth-century. Sonderegger’s Doctrine of God begins not with the trinity but with the one God and then proceeds with a discussion of the classic attributes of this one God: God’s omnipresence, omnipotence and omniscience. Michael Allen has conducted an interview with Kate about her new volume on the doctrine of God. (And part 2 of the interview also arrived today…)

I remember as an undergraduate writing an essay on the trinity in Barth and Moltmann, and coming down on the side of Barth who starts with the one God. Moltmann criticised Barth for this, but my impression was that Barth had the better of it. The biblical witness testifies to the unity of God and only then proceeds to discuss his triunity. Moltmann wanted to start with the triunity of God but in my estimation never quite made it back to establishing the divine unity.

The publisher’s blurb reads:

The mystery of Almighty God is most properly an explication of the oneness of God, tying the faith of the church to the bedrock of Israel’s confession of the LORD of the covenant, the LORD of our Lord Jesus Christ. The doctrine of divine attributes, then, is set out as a reflection on Holy Scripture: the One God as omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient, and all these as expressions of the Love who is God. Systematic theology must make bold claims about its knowledge and service of this One LORD: the Invisible God must be seen and known in the visible. In this way, God and God’s relation to creation are distinguished—but not separated—from Christology, the doctrine of perfections from redemption. The LORD God will be seen as compatible with creatures, and the divine perfections express formally distinct and unique relations to the world.

This systematic theology, then, begins from the treatise De Deo Uno and develops the dogma of the Trinity as an expression of divine unicity, on which will depend creation, Christology, and ecclesiology. In the end, the transcendent beauty who is God can be known only in worship and praise.

Kevin Vanhoozer, Again

Vanhoozer at MooreThank you Jamie, for letting me know that the Kevin Vanhoozer lectures from the Annual Moore College Lectures have now been posted online. The lectures can be accessed here.

(See my earlier post on the first lecture here, including my comment about the question I asked Kevin.)

I was present for the first (public) lecture on Friday night, and my question can be found at about 1 hour, 10 minutes of that lecture. Listening to Kevin’s answer again, I still think he misunderstands my question, but perhaps not so drastically as I thought on the night. He still suggests that the problem with interpretive pluralism as Smith presents it, is located in the biblicist interpreter who wants the Bible to address questions it was never intended to address. This is certainly an aspect of Smith’s argument, and I agree with Vanhoozer on this point. Smith, however—and this is the question that Kevin did not concede—does locate interpretive pluralism in the biblical text itself, however, in addition to the problem of the biblicist interpreter. The biblicist approaches the Bible as though its meaning was univocal, as though it speaks clearly with a single voice and meaning. Smith continually suggests, however, that this approach is itself inadequate:

If these descriptive accounts and analogies about how the Bible is actually read and made sense of by real Christians are essentially correct and revealing, then that tells us something very important. It tells us that the Bible is multivocal in its plausible interpretive possibilities: it can and does speak to different listeners in different voices that appear to say different things. […] Whatever biblicist theories say ought to be true about the Bible, in their actual, extensive experience using the Bible in practice, Christians recurrently discover that the Bible consists of irreducibly multivocal, polysemic, and multivalent texts (polysemy means “multiple meanings” and multivalent means “many appeals or values”) (Smith, The Bible Made Impossible, 47, original emphasis).

Or again:

The ideas of biblical multivocality, polysemy, and evidential under-determination may not fit the biblicist theory about scripture. Biblicists instead tend to assume the single, univocal meaning of biblical texts. […] The multivocality and polysemy of the Bible, and the diversity and division to which they give rise, are undeniable, historical, empirical, phenomenological facts.  It is not that multiple possible meanings are necessarily read into scripture by readers’ subjectivities (although sometimes they are) but rather that, even when read as good believers should read the texts, the words of scripture themselves can and usually do give rise to more than one possible, arguably legitimate interpretation. This very biblical multivocality and polysemy is exactly what explains a great deal of why Protestantism in particular—the tradition that, as the historical champion of sola scriptura and biblical perspicuity, has primarily fostered biblicism—is itself extremely fragmented doctrinally, ecclesiologically, and culturally. […] To deny the multivocality of scripturure is to live in a self-constructed world of unreality (Smith, The Bible, 52-54).

My question to Kevin was asking for his response to this claim. I would still like to hear it, and I will listen to the lectures with interest to see whether he does address it in one of the later sessions. To me, Smith’s contention has more than a grain of truth, and if anything, makes Kevin Vanhoozer’s project all the more necessary. We need carefully devised hermeneutical principles for reading scripture well. Kevin’s proposal for a gospel-oriented (the five solas) and ecclesial (the priesthood of believers) model for biblical interpretation will be, I believe, an important contribution to this essential discussion.

Two (Unrequited?) Love Poems

Erin Martine Sessions

Photo: Rebecca Ding Photography (http://www.rebeccading.com.au/)

One of the people I met at the recent Evangelical History Association Conference was Erin Martine Sessions (Erin’s website, still under development, can be found here: www.erinmartinesessions.com). Erin works at Morling College in Sydney where she is also doing doctoral studies in the Song of Solomon. Her Masters is in English literature, and I found she has a poem in Australian Love Poems (Inkerman & Blunt, 2013, 2014).

These two poems, including Erin’s, come from a section entitled, “We outgrow love like other things.”

Israel
(Erin Martine Sessions, p. 268)

You’ve got someone else in mind
as we walk on ruined temple walls.
This city was built with the stones under our feet
and I am built with parts of you.

As we walk on ruined temple walls
our tongues reclaim the language of Genesis
and I am created with parts of you.
We are raising our own religion

As our tongues reclaim the language of Genesis.
We trace the etymology of maps
to orient our own religion.
And I try not to notice your fingers.

We trace the etymology of maps
to resurrect antiquarian words
and you try not to notice
as I reflect the freckles in your eyes.

I breathe the air from your lungs
and exhale our favourite words:
“I am built with parts of you.”

But you’ve got someone else in mind.

*****

australian-love-poems-2013-edited-by-mark-tredinnick

Bittersweet
(Melinda Smith, p. 272)

#micropoem #divorce
your mistress/tells her friends/

about your enormous/
bank account/
I tell mine/about your tiny/
heart

Book Notes

RestlessRecent novel reading has slowed right down due to semester responsibilities. Nonetheless I have managed to read a couple of novels. I read Restless because the author, William Boyd, was recommended to me by a fellow passenger on a flight to Sydney. I had never heard of Boyd, but the superlatives on the cover, as well as the still from a movie dramatisation convinced that this must be just about the best book ever written. Alas!

The novel, like All that I Am, shifts between scenes set Theboyinthestripedpyjamasin World War II and the present, although this is not as good as Anna Funder’s novel. Its plot is forced in places and its characters are somewhat two-dimensional. Perhaps Boyd is “English fiction’s master storyteller,” but I wouldn’t say so, not on the basis of this book, at least. It is not a book I will keep because I want to read it again sometime.

My response to The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas was altogether different. Told through the eyes of Bruno, a nine-year old boy, this story, too, is set in World War II. Initially I felt the device of “Out-With” and the “Fury” was a little contrived, and then overdone, but as I continued reading it gained an ominous depth. There is a gentle humour and a disarming innocence in the story which drew me into the plot. I won’t say more for fear of spoiling the story for those who are yet to read it. The fly-leaf description on my edition is not a description. It gives no clues to the story but simply says, “We think it is important that you start to read without knowing what it is about.” I did that, was moved by the story, and highly recommend it. Irish novelist John Boyne has written a very beautiful and poignant fable.

Fowl, Theological Interpretation of Scripture (Review)

Stephen-FowlFowl, Stephen E., Theological Interpretation of Scripture: A Short Introduction (Milton Keynes, Paternoster, 2009).

Stephen Fowl describes his little book as a ‘companion’ to the theological interpretation of Scripture with the twin tasks of first, exploring some ‘connections between this long-running and essential Christian practice’ and more recent scholarship around the issue, and second, to help readers navigate their way through the contemporary literature (x). The first of five chapters lays the foundation by providing a short description of the nature and role of Scripture in God’s drama of salvation. Fowl finds that christological approaches to the nature of Scripture disconnect theological construction from the interpretation of Scripture, and so suggests a new model of understanding the nature of Scripture is required. He adopts John Webster’s approach of locating Scripture within the triune economy so that for Christians, ‘the ends of reading, interpreting, and embodying Scripture are determined decisively by the ends of God’s self revelation, which are directed towards drawing humans into ever-deeper communion with the triune God and each other’ (6-7).

The second chapter locates theological interpretation with respect to other concerns including history and historical criticism, biblical theology, reading the Old Testament as Christian Scripture, and philosophical hermeneutics. The key issue in all these discussions is the insistence that the Bible is church’s book with the result that theological concerns and ends are primary to all others. Theology is not merely the result of biblical study but plays a regulative function in the hermeneutical process. In his treatment of the question of history and historical criticism, for example, Fowl contrasts modern and pre-modern modes of biblical study. Whereas the latter was ordered toward ‘helping Christians achieve their proper end in God,’ modern biblical study grants priority to historical rather than theological concerns (16). Rather than viewing Scripture as providing a true interpretation of reality, Scripture is now read and interpreted in light of what we know of the so-called ‘real world.’ This reversal of the relationship between text and world not only requires historical criticism but pushes theological concerns to the margins (18-20). Fowl would not banish historical criticism but would see its hegemony in biblical studies overthrown. Historical study remains valid and important, nevertheless ‘granting theological concerns priority will involve a return to the practice of using Scripture as a way of ordering and comprehending the world rather than using the world as a way of comprehending Scripture’ (23). So, too, Fowl would displace authorial intent from a position of primacy in biblical interpretation, suggesting that Christians will want to read texts such as Isaiah 7:14 in the light of Christ, and John 1 in the light of Nicaea, the communicative intent of the prophet and apostle notwithstanding (49). In a telling comment Fowl insists that

Rather than rely on hermeneutics to combat interpretive anarchy and sinful interpretation, believers should seek to regulate these tendencies ecclesially. In short, we should not ask philosophy to do the church’s work (51).Fowl, THEOLOGICAL_INTERPRETATION_OF_SCRIPTURE

The third chapter identifies several key practices and habits of theological interpretation. Here Fowl suggests believers attend to pre-modern modes of interpretation, especially those where the interpretations issued in ‘masterful performances’ whereby the saints were drawn into ever deeper communion with God and neighbour (54-56). He also argues for ‘figural’ readings of the text, where ‘literal’ readings may not provide a sharp enough vision to account for the world in which we live. Note, however, that Fowl’s description of a ‘literal’ reading of Scripture is “the meanings conventionally ascribed to a passage by Christian communities” (56-57). The final set of practices are not so much practices of interpretation as practices to help the Christian community as it actually interprets Scripture and so inevitably finds itself confronted with different interpretations and the threat of division. These practices include truth seeking and telling, repentance, forgiveness and reconciliation, and finally, patience, both toward one another in the community, and toward God, in confidence that God will ultimately bring the community to its ultimate end in Christ (64-70).

The final two chapters survey issues and prospects for the future, and provide an annotated bibliography that considers some of the key scholars and contributions to the somewhat ‘chaotic party’ that makes up the present interest in theological interpretation. Perhaps the most interesting points here are Fowl’s call for a great deal more cross-fertilisation and robust argument between theologians and biblical scholars, as well as more reflection on how the sermon might become a mode for serious theological interpretation of Scripture (72-73).

This is indeed a short introduction to theological interpretation of Scripture, and perhaps, in the end, too short, especially for a beginner. Those seeking to be inducted into the methodology and practices of theological interpretation would be better directed to a lengthier treatment of the topic such as Dan Trier’s Introducing Theological Interpretation of Scripture (Baker, 2008).

Nevertheless it would be uncharitable to hold Fowl accountable for what he has clearly not attempted to do. His little book effectively argues for the validity of theological interpretation if one can accept his primary presupposition that Scripture is divinely given to lead God’s people more deeply into communion with the triune God and with one another. Further, it provides the essential orientation and ethos of theological interpretation, as well as giving a number of examples of theological interpretation at work; and all this in so short a book! An added bonus is that Fowl is bound to upset scholars all over the theological playing field. Some will cry, “off-side” because of his regulative principle, others because he displaces the author, others because he de-centres historical criticism, others because he values pre-critical modes of biblical interpretation. For me, this is a strength of the work, for he is clearly not beholden to any one school of thought. Further, his regulative principle is left quite broad, intentionally I suspect, so that reading communities of different persuasion will find that they can practise theological interpretation within the promise and bounds of their various traditions and convictions.

For myself, I welcome the book and resonate with the approach. I hope especially that pastors and elders might stumble upon this work and begin leading their congregations in the kinds of practices Fowl commends. Perhaps more congregations might then so read Scripture, that new and renewed communities of saints would again be found who faithfully and fruitfully embody the theological vision of the Bible, as they live more deeply in communion with God, with one another, and with all their neighbours.

Progress in Perfection

The Desert FathersI read a few excerpts last night before bed from The Desert Fathers: Sayings of the Early Christian Monks. The first chapter is entitled “Progress in Perfection” and perhaps summarises some of the main concerns of the early desert fathers, though I guess the rest of the collection will either confirm or disconfirm that.

The sayings reflect the asceticism of the early fathers but it is not an extreme asceticism, although a couple of the sayings are certainly idealistic. The main concerns are with humility and detachment from material possessions, or more generally, with self-control. Here are a few sayings that struck me, and which require me to put a big F against my name in measuring up to their spiritual concerns:

2. Pambo said to Antony, “What shall I do?’ Antony said, ‘Do not trust in your own righteousness. Do not go on sorrowing over a deed that is past. Keep your tongue and your belly under control.’

3. Gregory said, ‘God asks three things of anyone who is baptized: to keep the true faith with all his soul and all his might; to control his tongue; to be chaste in his body.’

But a couple of other sayings also proved encouraging:

10. Cassian told this story about John, who was the father of a community because he was great in his way of life. When he was dying, he was cheerful, and his mind was set upon the Lord; his brothers stood around him and asked for a sentence that would sum up the way to salvation, which he could give them as a legacy by which they might rise to the perfection that is in Christ. With a sigh he said, ‘I have never obeyed my own will, and I never taught anyone to do anything which I did not do myself first.’

11. A brother asked a hermit, ‘Tell me something good that I may do it and live by it.’ The hermit said, ‘God alone knows what is good. But I have heard that one of the hermits asked the great Nesteros, who was a friend of Antony, ‘What good work shall I do?’ and he replied, ‘Surely all works please God equally? Scripture says, Abraham was hospitable and God was with him; Elijah loved quiet and God was with him; David was humble and God was with him.’ So whatever you find you are drawn to in following God’s will, do it and let your heart be at peace.’

And so one more to finish with a challenge:

15. Poemen said, ‘If a monk hates two things, he can be free of this world.’ A brother inquired, ‘What are they?’ He said, ‘Bodily comfort and conceit.’

Now let me sit back with a drink and a chocolate biscuit and see how many hits and comments this post receives…