kata ta biblia

a blog exploring Christian origins, biblical studies, social/cultural history, method, education and the journey through academia

Category: quotes

Greg Boyd is a Mennonite

So he says on his blog in reflections of a conference in which he shared as a guest speaker, the “Christian Ministry in a Red and Blue World” conference (part of the Anabaptist Vision and Discipleship Series) at Hesston College. Any who have read his The Myth of a Christian Nation will understand why he would be welcomed by an Anabaptist crowd. For those who haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. Here is a particularly astute point he made on his blog post based on what he’s learning of the Mennonite church:

But there was another very interesting thing I learned about the Mennonites: they’re in trouble. I heard this from a number of people, including John Roth. One man literally wept as he told me how he’s been grieved seeing Mennonites abandon their core vision of the Kingdom and core convictions over the last several decades. They’re loosing their counter-cultural emphasis and becoming “Americanized” and “mainstreamed” (as various people told me). Consequently, many Mennonite leaders are getting involved in partisan politics in a way that goes against the Mennonite tradition. While Evangelicals tend to be co-opted by Right Wing politics, these leaders are being co-opted by Left Wing politics. They’re basically defining Kingdom social activism as supporting radical democratic policies. Yet, three fourths of Mennonites are Republican. Hence there’s growing tensions between the leadership and the body of the Mennonites.

I think another book that is relevant to this concern is Hauerwas’ Resident Aliens, even though he is not officially a Mennonite either. In my view, the co-opting of Anabaptist denominations by any political party is a travesty.

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Everybody likes to quote Lincoln

At Sojourners’ presidential forum on faith, values, and poverty last week (catch a link to the full video of the event here and the transcript here) for the three “leading” democratic candidates, Barack Obama invoked Lincoln’s oft-quoted adage about “whether we are on God’s side.” Since Bush’s mixture of God and politics and his “you’re either with us or against us” policy, I have heard this quoted many times. But, of course, never with an accompanying citation. As with most “famous” quotations without citations, that probably means the source doesn’t say exactly that. Here’s what Obama said in response to Soledad O’Brien’s question, “Do you think that God takes sides in a war? For example, in the war on terror, is God on the side of U.S. troops, would you say?”:

Well, you know, I always remember Abraham Lincoln, when, during the Civil War, he said, “We shouldn’t be asking whose side God is on, but whether we’re on his side.” And I think that’s the question that all of us have to ask ourselves during any battle that’s taking place, whether it’s political or military, is, are we following his dictates? Are we advancing the causes of justice and freedom? Are we our brother’s keeper, our sister’s keeper? And that’s how I measure whether what we’re doing is right.

His interpretation of the Cain and Abel story is a little suspect and his masculine pronouns for God are questionable, but let me stay on task here. Jim Wallis also mentions Lincoln’s sentiments in the introduction of his book God’s Politics (xiv), in similar words, without citation. Searching for the reference, I found this personal note entitled “Meditation on the Divine Will,” which Lincoln wrote in September, 1862, mentioning a similar theme:

The will of God prevails. In great contests each party claims to act in accordance with the will of God. Both may be, and one must be, wrong. God cannot be for and against the same thing at the same time. In the present civil war it is quite possible that God’s purpose is something different from the purpose of either party — and yet the human instrumentalities, working just as they do, are of the best adaptation to effect His purpose. I am almost ready to say that this is probably true — that God wills this contest, and wills that it shall not end yet. By his mere great power, on the minds of the now contestants, He could have either saved or destroyed the Union without a human contest. Yet the contest began. And, having begun He could give the final victory to either side any day. Yet the contest proceeds.

These themes were later worked into his Second Inaugural Address of 1865, in which Lincoln states:

Neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God’s assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men’s faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has his own purposes. . . . Fondly do we hope–fervently do we pray–that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man’s two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said “the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether”

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan–to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.

One problem in applying his quotation to our current situation is the fact that Lincoln was talking about two Christian “sides” at war with one another (“both read the same Bible . . .”). One could also question the motives of Lincoln: was this war really about slavery? In his personal note and elsewhere in the second inaugural address, Lincoln talks about saving and destroying “the Union.” What other reasons were there to preserve the Union? Relating it to today, the United States went to war with Iraq under the auspices that Saddam had “weapons of mass destruction.” After we discovered that he had none, the language was about bringing “freedom” and deposing a murderous dictator. I will leave the reasons and motivations for the American Civil War to American historians, but I think it’s fair to say that legitimate questions have been raised about it (and, of course, of our own Iraq War II).

Yes, it is quite profound that Lincoln would reveal his humility here, and admirable. But in the end, he decided essentially (without saying it): Well, yes, I do think that God is on our side here. He highlights a horrific moral problem to encourage the nation that this is the true cause of God. But the question is not whether slavery is wrong, whether Saddam did evil things, but whether we should use violence to answer that problem. Further, if the Civil War was about “saving the Union,” can we say that God is interested in violence for such a cause? You can hear my Anabaptism peeking out here, I know.

Why am I even raising these questions? First, I have not found that most people are even quoting an actual text (please help me out if there is a better basis for the quotation). I think that is worth correcting in itself. Second, I think that we should pause and think about why Lincoln was saying what he was saying before invoking “I like how Lincoln put it when he said . . .” I’m not claiming to have a corner on that market, but it’s good to raise questions nonetheless. Third, though this is not directly related to biblical studies, it does highlight interesting usage of biblical themes in public discourse. And finally, we should ask the same questions about biblical quotations as we should any “old big names” quoted by people who want to sound “authoritative.”

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Tired Teacher vs. Aspiring Teacher

Here’s an interesting story of an associate professor of philosophy who got tired of his job and decided to take a two year leave of absence to join the Peace Corps, teaching English in China. I read these articles in The Chronicle of Higher Education written by people having trouble with their academic jobs and sometimes I have to take time to reflect on whether it is what I really want to do. I feel that this one doesn’t apply for me because, well, in the first place I would hate to teach philosophy too, especially at a school that doesn’t have a philosophy major. But he says:

Because, in truth, I have never been very comfortable with teaching. A natural introvert, I am much more at home in the library than in the lecture hall and find the classroom more exhausting than rewarding.

I do lean slightly towards the introvert side, but usually only with new people and then usually only in foreign environments. I do get energized when I speak in front of groups, large or small. Teaching college students is something that I anticipate with great excitement. I can’t wait to interact with and mentor college students when it comes to the difficult issues surrounding their relationship with the biblical text. In a post entitled “The Make-up of a College Prof,” Scot McKnight talks about what makes a good college professor, as opposed to a seminary professor:

I once said the difference between seminary teaching and college teaching was that in seminary we teach our subject but in college we teach students. I don’t think this says it all, and I do think it can mask a false dichotomy, but it was my experience. Sometimes I think it wouldn’t matter one bit what I was asked to teach at the college level, because I’d have to figure out where the students where and who they were and then just get into the mix with a subject and start moving onward.

I long to be on the other end of this educational journey and be able to be experience what McKnight describes here. I guess what I’m saying is that while I find this philosophy professor’s predicament interesting, I’m not sure I can imagine myself going through the same crisis 20 years down the road. I guess we shall see!

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Omega is…

In Greek Reading tonight, my instructor said something that made me chuckle:

Omega is the ‘Jaws’ of Greek vowels.

~David Kiefer, Fuller Registrar and Greek instructor

Now, ponder that one for a minute. I am a “visual” person and I like to take imagery seriously. Can’t you just see the omegas nearly jumping off the page with violent, ravenous appetite for the destruction of all other Greek vowels? It will be hard to look at my Greek NT again without the image.

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Relationship between flesh and law?

What does “works of the flesh” have to do with being “under the law”? That’s the question with which I’m presently wrestling. I don’t have my answer worked out yet (and I’m not sure I ever will), but here are some quotes that are helping me think about it. Dunn is, of course, from the NPP, and it appears that Russell is as well (see the top of page 182 of his article).

Walter Bo Russell, III, makes some interesting points in his article, “Does the Christian Have ‘Flesh’ in Galatians 5:13-26?” for JETS 36 (1993): 179-187. The first paragraph is from pages 180-1, the rest is from page 187:

Particularly, Paul uses sarx and pneuma in antithesis in his extended discussion of the relationship between Jews and Gentiles in the Church in Galatians 3-6 and Romans 7-8. In these contexts sarx is in tandem with nomos (“law”) and is associated with the era of Israel under the Mosaic law. This is why Paul connects “flesh” and “law” in passages like Gal 5:17-18; Rom 6:12-14; 8:1-4 in a manner that is disconcerting to many commentators. He is arguing against the Jewish Christians’ advocacy of the proselyte model of Gentile incorporation and against their advocacy of the use of the Mosaic law as the primary means for constraining the Christians’ behavior. Jewish Christians were advocating an anachronistic redemptive historical model, and Paul’s response is appropriately redemptive-historical in its logic. . . .

The choice that the Galatians faced was to continue to follow the true gospel that Paul had preached to them and not to desert to a nongospel (1:6-7). Therefore they must reject becoming proselytes to Judaism and being circumcised (5:1-12). Ethically this meant they must “walk according to the rule of the Spirit” and not fulfill the desires connected with those who still live according to the rule of the flesh (5:16). To be “led according to the rule of the Spirit” is not to be “under the law” (5:18). The choice to live in the Judaizers’ “law/flesh community” will manifest itself in the behavior of that community: the deeds of the flesh (5:19-21). Conversely the choice to continue to live in the “Spirit community” will manifest itself in the fruit of the Spirit (5:22-23). This is true because Christians have crucified the sarx—that is, the mode of existence of their body being under sin’s mastery and not indwelt by God’s Spirit ended (5:24). Since they live according to the rule of the Spirit they should also corporately walk according to the rule of the Spirit (5:25).

James Dunn on defining “under the law” in his commentary on Galatians (pp. 301-2):

[On 5:18] For it denoted for [Paul] the space of the nation Israel, the Jewish people under the law as their guardian angel (see on iii.23); reference to legalistic self-righteousness (as Oepke 176), or the condemnation of the law (as Borse 196), is uncalled for and excluded by iv.4 (Barclay, Obeying 116 n. 24). To put oneself thus ‘under the law’ was to look once again for an answer to ‘the desire of the flesh’ in a written code, an outward constraint; whereas in the age of fulfilment introduced by Christ, it was the circumcision of the heart, an effective inner force which was now available. To put onself [sic] ‘under the law’, in other words, was to look in the wrong direction for salvation. Worse still, to assume that only ‘under the law’ could salvation be found was to deny the reality of Gentile as Gentile having received the Spirit. No! The reality of being led by the Spirit, that is, the Spirit of Jesus (iv.6), was independent of being ‘under the law’ and should not therefore be identified with the ethnic Jewish identity which that phrase encapsulated. In short, their experience of the Spirit thus far should be enough to convince them that to take the step of becoming a proselyte (through circumcision) was unnecessary. Implicit here also is a clear distinction between being ‘under the law’ and ‘fulfilling the law’ (v.14); the law is ‘fulfilled’ by those who are led by the Spirit (Thielman 53); not by putting oneself ‘under the law’.

[On 5:19] Paul does not hesitate to press the logic of his argument strongly. By implication, to put oneself ‘under the law’, to become a proselyte, to accept circumcision, is to think and act on the level of the flesh (see on vi.13), on that level of visibility and outwardness which is the very opposite of the inward reality of the Spirit’s work (the contrast to explicit in Rom ii.28-9). And to put oneself on the level of the flesh is to put oneself on the same level as so many of the very things which Jews (and all those of goodwill) hated and despised – the works of the flesh, the outworking of the flesh, those things which express the character of the flesh and its desires; the echo of the earlier repeated phrase, ‘the works of the law’ (ii.16, iii.3, 5, 10) is no doubt intentional. The challenge to the other missionaries is as sharp as it could be, and may well have seemed to them outrageous. Judaism, after all, was more opposed to these things than others were (particularly idolatry and sorcery), and the very thought that desire for circumcision was even on the same plane as them must have seemed ridiculous. But this is precisely Paul’s challenge: to put such weight on the fleshly rite of circumcision and on ethnic identity was actually to pitch the theological principle into the same realm as these things so widely despised; to make circumcision the test-case of eligibility for a share in Abraham’s inheritance was to make the effective working of the Spirit dependent on a work of (done in) the flesh. By linking ‘under the law’ (v.18) with ‘works of the flesh’ (both in antithesis to what the Spirit produces) Paul thus presumably hoped to jolt his readers into a recognition of the level they were thinking on and of what they might lose (see also on v.22).

As far as I can tell, Galatians 5:16-26 does not afford an opportunity to deal with the foundation of the NPP‘s views on Paul. Instead it builds on conclusions that have been made based on other passages in Galatians. One of the big questions then is how well these foundational arguments, made elsewhere, fit into this passage. I’m still working on that one.

Update (same day): I added another paragraph to Dunn’s quote. Here I think that Dunn articulates one of my primary concerns about this passage, the thing that makes me dizzy to think about: “Judaism, after all, was more opposed to these things than others were (particularly idolatry and sorcery), and the very thought that desire for circumcision was even on the same plane as them must have seemed ridiculous.” How can Paul accuse them that being “under the law” is somehow associated with these “works of the flesh” when those who follow the law would be disgusted by many of these works? It is a bold and offensive statement (to his adversaries). That is what makes me wrestle with this question.

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Anti-faith scholars vs. uncritical scholars?

I have just had an interaction with April DeConick regarding her approach to early Christianity and the response of some bibliobloggers to it. Tensions seem to be revealing themselves and I would like to explore them for a moment. Here is a quote from April DeConick’s Forbidden Gospels Blog:

What impedes our examination of early Christianity is not the limitations of historical criticism as some in the Academy would like to lead us to believe. The impediment is the fact that the majority of biblical scholars still have not dislodged themselves from their own faith perspectives. As long as this is the case, historical inquiry is impossible because the historical-critical perspective cannot be used uncompromisingly. Although I recognize that there can be no “objective” history recovered or written, this doesn’t mean to me that all subjective inquiries are the same. The theological inquiry is not the same as the historical.

Those in the Academy who have not dislodged themselves from their faith operate to defend, justify and explain it in terms they couch “historical” while privileging the New Testament canon and ignoring or dissing the apocrypha. Their personal religious belief in the authority of the New Testament scripture has led them to a common (and erroneous) assumption, that the New Testament texts are the only documents that tell us about the history of early Christianity. This leads to another common (and erroneous) assumption, that these canonical texts are accurate and reliable documents for the study of early Christianity. In this way, the religious walls of the canon have imprisoned the Academy for a couple of hundreds of years, holding us back from an honest historical analysis of early Christianity.

Many comments have been made to challenge this perspective. One commenter seemed to lump her view in with “those of secularised people living in late-20th century America, and that subset holding positions in full-time education (i.e. leftish, liberal, post-hippy, hostile to Christianity, Clinton not Bush, etc etc).” Another biblioblogger has written on his own blog: “She is a ferverently secularist and eschews faith-based approaches. . . . Given the tone of this remark, I think I prefer the company of James Crossley who is somewhat more restrained in his criticism of faith-based approaches. Actually, James is probably more pro-secular than he is anti-faith!” A patristics blogger has left the comment under another of April DeConick’s posts:

It is very possible to write as a good scholar within a religious tradition. We know this because so many of those writing in, say, patristics or even in the Apocrypha and Biblical Studies do write from a religious tradition and still manage to retain balance. They may have a different understanding of their purpose and they may ask questions that a ‘humanist’ may not, but I’m unconvinced that their scholarly integrity is compromised by their religious affiliations.

There are other examples, but we can see a theme coming out here. I asked Dr. DeConick how she would respond to the implied suggestion that she is “anti-faith.” Her response to the whole whirlwind of comments in such a short amount of time (she’s been blogging for less than a week, after all):

It is fascinating to me that my hard line on historicism has dumped me so immediately into the anti-faith, pro-secular, liberal camp (whatever that is supposed to be). Also fascinating is the immediate swing to point out that I’m not value-neutral because of my critical humanist approach (which is nothing more than the historian’s approach in any field of study). This is dizzying. I have nothing against theology or theologians. But I do recognize that there is a difference between theology and history. And I’m a historian who is concerned that theology is still dominating an Academy that claims to be doing history.

At this point, I’m not going to wrestle with whether one side of the argument is “right” or “wrong.” But instead, I would like to explore a theory about the tension. Being at an evangelical seminary myself, I converse with many evangelical scholars or evangelical scholars-in-the-making. The general impression that I get from them is that the academy of biblical and religious studies is overwhelmingly “secular” and “against” any kind of “theological” approach to early documents. At the same time, I have been reading several scholars from another perspective (such as Berlinerblau in his Chronicle article) who seem to think that the academy of biblical studies is too “theological” and entrenched in theological education. And as Dr. DeConick says, “I’m a historian who is concerned that theology is still dominating an Academy that claims to be doing history.” On the other hand, I have the feeling that the “theological” folks feel like a persecuted minority in the academy, worried, for example, that they will be negatively judged for their seminary educations.

Since most current bibliobloggers wear their faith on their sleeves (including myself), perhaps they feel like this biblioblogging world is a “safe” place for them. Maybe they feel threatened when another academic comes on the scene blogging things like “The impediment [to our examination of early Christianity] is the fact that the majority of biblical scholars still have not dislodged themselves from their own faith perspectives.” At the same time, perhaps more “secular” folks (and by that I just mean they are attempting to be “non-theological”) come into this biblioblogging world and see their frustrations confirmed in the blatant faith-based approaches to biblical studies.

To me, it sounds like a mutually threatening atmosphere in which both sides feel they are defending their views against the flow of the academy, and now it’s gotten a little tense online too. I think the dizzying response to Dr. DeConick’s blog has to do with the fact that she may have touched a nerve here. The problem about the blogging world is that it lends itself to knee-jerk reactions, and sometimes those knee-jerk reactions are not as cordial and respectful as they should be.

That’s my theory. I am happy to be corrected. Being one who is outward about his faith, I would tend to agree with the comment of our patristics friend listed above. But I can also see the need for accountability in these faith-based approaches. I would point to my earlier post about OPP people saying that the NPP is calling Judaism “racist.” When the basic values of our faith are at issue, I think we do tend to retreat to polemical tones. And at the risk of sounding “holier than thou,” I think that us Christians should pause a little longer and take a note from the person at the center of our faith, who reportedly told us to “first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.” I don’t mean that we shouldn’t examine and challenge the claims of others, but I think we should first breathe, then examine and challenge ourselves. Personally, I hope to be able to say to those with whom I disagree: “I don’t agree (and this is why), but I see where you’re coming from.”

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What do Anabaptists say about justification by faith?

In response to my last post, my friend Matt raised good questions about Anabaptists and their understanding of justification by faith. I started to copy down some quotes and felt like it was just too much material (and the material was just too good) for a comment, so I’m making a new post out of it. Here’s Matt’s comment:

Pat, would you mind clarifying some issues for me. Anabaptists believe in “believer’s baptism” but how is this belief expressed? In other words, how does one become a believer? Or, to put it a third way, does justification by faith play a decisive role in Anabaptist traditions?

Also, does the (seemingly) anti-Luther leaning of many Anabaptists alter or skew the way that Pauline texts are read. If the basic logic of the text sounds Lutheran is it to be thrown out automatically?

First, I’d like to say that much of early (and even contemporary) Anabaptism is characterized in its opposition to Luther, so I don’t think we need to be hesitant about identifying an “anti-Luther leaning” of Anabaptists. I’m not so keen on the fellow myself, he said some horrifically awful things (aside from his views on justification). Also, Anabaptists (especially 16th century ones) have a very high view of Scripture; there will be no throwing out of Scripture. From the Anabaptist perspective, they are being more faithful to the Word than “the scribes,” which include Luther. As a matter of fact, the early Anabaptist laity was so biblically literate that their opponents accused them of being demon-possessed: how else could they know Scripture so well? In response to Matt’s comment, I did leave the initial comment:

My gut reaction is that it is that Anabaptists do not believe that you “earn” your salvation through works, but that “works” or “deeds” are a requisite part of the faith in Christ which leads to salvation/justification. In that way, it doesn’t completely disagree with justification by faith, but it argues for a more holistic understanding of faith.

But I would like to explore some Anabaptist sources here. These are all from the classic resource Anabaptism in Outline edited by William Klaassen (1981). The first quote is from Klaassen himself and the others are from 16th century authors, for which I’ve given both page numbers and years.

Anabaptists were one and all agreed that the process of salvation begins with God’s gracious act in Jesus Christ. There can no longer be any question about this. Once Luther’s formulation on faith and works is seen as one way of several to set out the problem, our minds can be more open to consider the Anabaptist view. Anabaptists, too, believed that man [sic] is saved by grace and not through any merits of his own.

But they were equally certain that man was not saved in spite of himself. God has graciously provided a way of salvation, but in order to benefit from it man must freely choose it for himself. This implied that man could choose, and it was a rejection of the Protestant doctrine of the bondage of the will. The will was set free by God’s grace and then man could choose to do the good that God desires for man.

~William Klaassen (in his introduction to the chapter on “The Work of God in Man” in Anabaptism in Outline, 1981, p. 41)

Faith alone and by itself is not sufficient for salvation. . . . With the heart man believes to righteousness and with the mouth confession is made to salvation (Rom 10). Now we do not wish to be mouth Christians only . . . Rather, faith must express itself also in love to God and the neighbor. . . . O, we wish to be good evangelical Christians; we boast about our great faith, but have never touched the works of the gospel and faith with the smallest finger. Therefore we are, as stated above, nothing but mouth Christians, ear Christians, and paper Christians, but not action Christians.

~Balthasar Hubmaier (Anabaptism in Outline, p. 43, from 1526)

Faith is the obedience to God and the confidence in his promise through Jesus Christ. Where this obedience is absent there all confidence is false and a deception. This obedience must be genuine, that is that heart, mouth and deed coincide together. For there can be no true heart where neither mouth nor deed is visible. And where the heart is not honest all words and works are nothing but deception. An evil heart betrays itself with pride and impatience. A good heart proves itself with humility and patience.

~Hans Denck (Anabaptism in Outline, p. 46, from 1527)

Therefore, when one speaks of justification through Christ, one must also speak of that faith, which cannot be without works of repentance, yea, not without love, which is an anointing. . . . Again when one speaks of works, one must preach not, after the manner of the work-righteous, the works of law but the works of faith; that is a turning away from works, creatures, and your own self, through faith in Christ the crucified one, not as what man can do from himself, but what he really can do in the power of faith; which thereby are not man’s works but God’s, since the willing and the ability to turn to God are not man but the gift of God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

~Michael Sattler (?) (Anabaptism in Outline, pp. 56-7, from 1530); he goes on to say “blessed be he who remains on the middle path” between “work-righteous” on the one hand and “the side side of the scribes” (i. e., Luther and friends) who teach “faith without works” on the other. Though this may not be a fair assessment of Luther, I think the “middle path” greatly interests me in this NPP research.

Faith is not the empty illusion that those men think who only bear it about with them in their mouths, and know no more about it; who think that Christianity is in words only, and therefore hold and regard each and all as Christians, no matter how they live, if they but confess Christ with the mouth

True and well-founded faith, however, is not of men but a gift of God, and is given only to those who fear God. . . .

~Peter Riederman (Anabaptism in Outline, p. 63, from 1542)

Those who accept this announced Christ by a true faith which according to the doctrine of Paul, was given us of the Father unto wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and deliverance, are in a state of grace for Christ’s sake and have God as their Father; for by faith they are born of him. . . . And this we say, not by our own merits and works, but by grace through Christ Jesus. . . . [T]herefore it is that they sincerely fear the Lord, and by that fear die unto their flesh, crucify their lusts and desires, and shun and abhor the unclean, ungodly works which are contrary to the Word of the Lord. . . .

They show indeed that they believe, that they are born of God and are spiritually minded; that they lead a pious, unblamable life before all men. . . . They walk in all love and mercy and serve their neighbors. In short, they regulate themselves in their weakness to all words, commandments, ordinances, Spirit, rule, example, and measure of Christ; and therefore they live no longer in the old life of sin after the earthly Adam (weakness excepted), but in the new life of righteousness which comes by faith, after the second and heavenly Adam, Christ. . . .

~Menno Simons (Anabaptism in Outline, p. 69-70, from 1552)

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It's not our issue: Anabaptists and the New Perspective on Paul

I would like to share some wisdom that was emailed to me about why Anabaptists might not be all gung ho about the New Perspective on Paul. I alluded to something similar in a previous post, but I think this puts it better. The email was from Dale Fredrickson, who is a NT PhD student at Claremont and has (in the meantime) planted a house church based on John Howard Yoder’s Body Politics. He suggested that the reason not many Anabaptists are “in on this discussion” is because “the discussion is not important to them. What I mean is that Justification by faith has never been our issue. Justification by faith arises out of the Lutheran main line and evangelical manifestations.” That is the vibe that I get as well, but I think that Anabaptists have an opportunity here to speak from the authority of their historical tradition and make a significant contribution to the debate.

Dale also recommended picking one passage and doing a historical-critical study, also looking into what Anabaptist interpreters have said about it. That may be a good way to narrow the focus of my term paper for Paul and the Law. I am also doing a shorter exegetical paper for the course, but that doesn’t leave much room for exploring the Anabaptist perspective… it would simply be an Anabaptist exegesis, since I’m doing it! Another approach to the term paper would be to list out some of the main points of the NPP and explore them one at a time from an Anabaptist perspective. That may be too much for a 10-15 page paper, though. Well, whatever I do, I’ve gotten geared up to go on the topic, borrowing books from a couple libraries and even one friendly fellow church member. I’ve borrowed Toews’ Romans, Yoder’s Jewish-Christian Schism Revisited, Elias’ Remember the Future, and (even though it’s not Anabaptist) Harink’s Paul among the Postliberals. It would be great if the Believers Church Bible Commentary series had a commentary on Galatians. It is much needed and I wonder if they’ve assigned anyone to the task yet.

Well, you can expect more thoughts on the NPP later! Adios for now.

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E. P. Sanders' Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People

I have to read Sanders’ book by Wednesday and I’m struggling with grasping his arguments. I haven’t found Sanders’ writing to be the easiest to read (particularly for someone not familiar with all the historical scholarly arguments and counter-arguments about Paul), so I’m going to try to distill some of the core of his book here. Sanders thinks that Paul’s mission in his letters revolves around what it means to “get in and stay in” the Christian community. As such, his exclamations about the law are not theoretical postulations in some kind of existential vacuum, but “spring from and serve other convictions” (143). Those “other convictions,” those which Sanders believes are “central and identifiable,” can be seen as Paul’s surviving letters assume and argue:

[T]hat God had sent Jesus Christ to provide for the salvation of all; that salvation is thus available for all, whether Jew or Greek, on the same basis (‘faith in Christ,’ ‘dying with Christ’); that the Lord would soon return; that he, Paul, was called by God to be the apostle to the Gentiles; and that Christians should live in accordance with the will of God. (5)

Furthermore, Sanders continues, the “central characteristic of [Paul’s] thought” is the “christological interpretation of the triumph of God” (5). These central pieces of Paul’s “thought” must be distinguished from the “getting in and staying in” framework that motivates much of what he has written (or at least, what has survived of his writing). The terminology he uses for the transfer from “not being saved” to “being saved” is not necessarily part of his central “convictions,” but rather is the means by which he makes his arguments for diverse cicrcumstances.

What is Paul attacking when we read negative statements about the law in his letters? Paul is opposing the “standard Jewish view that accepting and living by the law is a sign and condition of favored status” (46). Instead, Paul believes that one becomes “righteous” through Christ’s death when one has faith in Christ.

What is wrong with the law, and thus with Judaism, is that it does not provide for God’s ultimate purpose, that of saving the entire world through faith in Christ, and without the privilege accorded to Jews through the promises, the covenants, and the law. (47)

And so, after an exegetical exploration, Sanders concludes that we can at least see a “limited rejection of the law” (48). The limitation to Paul’s attack on the law, however, is only when it is viewed as the means through which one enters the saved community, because that transfer for Paul can only be faith in Christ. In Sanders’ estimation, following certain regulations within the law itself is a matter of indifference (“neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything” [Gal 5:6; cf. 6:15; 1 Cor 7:19], etc.).

Paul nevertheless viewed the law as given by God, but had to reconcile this with his christological and soteriological conviction that “salvation is by faith in Christ for all” (144). Sanders argues that this conundrum “plagued him and led to some of the most difficult and tortured passages in the surviving correspondence” (143). He had to speak of the failure of the law to achieve salvation, but not attribute this failure to God who gave the law. Sanders states that Paul did not come to a “true, final, and unalterable view” to resolve this dilemma (145), as far as we can tell.

How do we reconcile the bad statements about the law with the good? Paul “makes no distinction between the law which does not righteous and to which Christians have died and the law which those in the Spirit fulfill” (145). Sanders’ “solution” to this problem is that they come out of different central convictions listed above: “One has to do with how people enter the body of those who will be saved, one with how they behave once in” (145).

If all this seems confusing, like there is no systematic glue holding together Paul’s thought on the law, it is because “there is no single unity which adequately accounts for every statement about the law” (147). And yet, Sanders does not want to say that Paul is just utterly inconsistent, but rather that, as has been pointed out, “Paul held a limited number of basic convictions which, when applied to different problems, led him to say different things about the law” (147). So Sanders says that Paul is “coherent,” but not “systematic” when it comes to his writings about the law.

I’m still working on the book, so I think I’ll stop there for now.

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The purpose of blogging?

Stephen C. Carlson reflected on his co-blog Hypotyposeis about why not to blog too much about pre-publication ideas. I had given it some thought too, though I don’t have a book in the works or anything. This quote here articulates some things that I have been thinking even as I try to figure out what kind of reflection I want to do here at kata ton biblon:

Sometimes to do an idea justice it requires a fuller treatment than a blog can conveniently provide. If I like the idea enough to think about publication, why should I make a bad first impression with a feeble blog posting? Also, as they say, extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, and sometimes a blog is better suited for making the claim than laying out the evidence. On the other hand, blogging it first might be a better to go if I am exploring a topic, perhaps for the first time, or chasing leads that may or may not go anywhere. In the second case, there may be more evidence than actual analysis, but in the process of playing with sources on the blog sometimes a publishable idea may pop up.

I can resonate that blogging is not particularly well-suited for “laying out the evidence.” That is something that I felt as I was trying to write my women in ministry paper on my blog. It just seemed like too much information and too hard to split into separate posts. So for that one, I found it easier to make it into a more coherent paper first and then convert some of it into blog posts after the fact. It is a little bit different, as I’m not planning on publishing it.

Being a grad student, though, I feel like blogging is a fantastic avenue to throw my thoughts out there into the great void, “chasing leads that may or may not go anywhere.” Because grad school is all about chasing things and not knowing where you’ll end up.

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