conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

2, 5 and 6

Here are the missing essays. Thanks again to all who chime in...or politely keep quiet as not to upset this heretic. Ha! Cliff, you, of course, may feel free to upset the heretic. The rest of you know who you are.

end: punchiness

2. What philosophical and theological systems underlie the cognitive side of your faith?

I am, first and foremost a liturgical theologian. This always takes people who are knowledgeable about liturgy by surprise as I am Baptist. What possible interest would a Baptist have in liturgy as, stereotypically, we have none? We Baptists know that this could be no further from the truth of our tradition. We know the evocative power of ?right worship.? We know what the preached word can do for and to a soul. We know how a well-written and well-sung hymn can move a believer. We know the power of prayer. We also, as revealed in our tradition, know what it is we are leaving out of our liturgy and for what reasons it is made absent.

Liturgy literally means ?the work of the people.? Liturgy is not passive. It is not a spectacular show to entertain people on Sunday. If we have any pitfall as Baptists, it is this one. If we are honest with ourselves, we know that our tradition runs the risk of creating congregations that a re cults of personality surrounding a good preacher, or a good choir or music program. This is not our struggle alone, of course, but it is a strong tendency in our tradition.

It is our current dilemma, as illustrated through the work of Robert Webber and others of the Emergent Church Movement, that through our desire to not say certain things that we have lost all substance to our worship. It has become a show, a Sunday morning lecture series. It can be a battleground for musical taste and not an expression of faith or an opportunity to shape Christian faith. The ?work of the people? should have context and direction. Liturgy, worship, is both the context for and the expression of our faith and tradition. We express what we believe through worship and we are formed by its substance.

Through my study of liturgy with scholars such as Ruth Meyers, Ed Phillips, Bob, Webber, Gil Osdiek and Don Saliers, I have had the incredible good fortune to have read through and studied centuries of liturgical expression. From the Didache and the Apostolic Traditions to the Rites of Christian Initiation for Adults, the church universal has expressed its core beliefs through its liturgy. Even John Calvin, the great Reformer, understood the power of the liturgy and eventually would settle upon only a modified Catholic rite during his lifetime. He wanted more liturgy and not less, he wanted more formation and not less. Calvin wished for a weekly eucharist and daily prayer services. I am a great fan of John Calvin and his liturgical impulse is a promising aspect to his theology.

I am a Christian humanist in the classical definition. Ad fontes, ?to the source?, was the cry of Erasmus and Calvin. The desire to uncover the initial desire, the initial reflection of the truth as revealed to the early church is compelling. This is the work of many theologians to whom I have found myself drawn. Calvin, Bonhoeffer, Hauerwas, Long, and even such ?Radical Orthodox? as Newbingen all reflect this desire. Our age, according to many, is so like the situation of the early church (religiously plural, culturally diverse) that it serves us well to return to its witness to uncover its wisdom so our faith may speak to us again. This is a Post-Modern, Post-Enlightenment Age. It is ironic that we must return to the humanist call of ad fontes, the call of those who arguably led us into the Enlightenment, to lead us out of it. We are in a stream of tradition. That stream is related to other Christian streams. By walking back down those streams, through history, liturgy (worship), theology (study) and witness (ministry and evangelism) my thinking is shaped and formed continually.

Ecumenism and Christian reconciliation have certainly had their hand in shaping my understanding of Christianity. Living and working in an ecumenical retreat center for four years had a deep and lasting effect on how I live into my faith. The work of Nicholas Sagovsky and Geoffrey Wainwright have been my most recent foray into thinking about ecumenism. Can we use the Lord?s Supper as a tool for reconciliation and not division? Liturgy can be a means of reconciliation and mutual experience. It can stretch our thinking and our understanding of the myriad Christian voices in the world.

Finally, I am a musician. It is hard in our tradition to separate music and liturgy. Perhaps it is wise that we should not, but I would be remiss to ignore the incredible influence music has had in shaping my faith and my life. Taverner, Pä²´, Rutter, Proulx, von Bingen, Palestrina and others have fed me as a musician and as a Christian. I was brought to the faith through the singing of Byrd and Tallis. There is a luminous beauty in polyphony. There is a great joy in the singing of those rich harmonies a cappella. There is a unity felt between the singers when you are able to lose yourself in such wondrous song. I have felt a similar joy when I sing Taverner or Pä²´. The stark beauty, the beautiful simplicity of this music evokes a raw spirituality in me that I cannot put into words.

The singing of words from scripture or traditional prayers shapes thinking and belief. The lilting of a chant allows one to hold on to words that normally might escape us. The familiar melody of a hymn might being comfort and strength in times of trouble. Music shapes belief. One of my favorite pieces has the following lyrics: Hodie Christus natus est; hodie Salvador appaurit; hodie in terra canut angeli, letantur archangeli; hodie exultant justi dicentes: Gloria in escelcis deo. Alleluya! This is the translation:

Today Christ in born; today the savior has appeared; today the angels sing on earth, the archangels rejoice; today good people exult, saying: Glory to God in the highest. Alleluia!

Even before I would ?agree? with such a statement, these words were working in my heart. Music is a way to enter into the tradition of the church, a way of prayer and praise. It is formative and evocative. It bridges the gap that exists for some between theology and spirituality. Hymns are theology set to music. All good service music is this.

5. How do you understand the authority of the Bible? In what ways does the Bible function in your life?

At the most basic, the New Testament is a collection of stories and letters from the period when the church was first being formed. It is a document. As the church established itself, the canon, both Old Testament and New Testament, came into being. It is an expression and catalogue of the desires, theologies and experiences of God in worship, prayer, ministry and the daily lives of people.

At its most profound, the Bible is the living Word of God. It is God?s revelation to God?s people, providing a theological compass for the believer. It is the collected revealed wisdom of what it is to be Christian.

It is for both of those reasons that I struggle with this question. The Bible is an historical document. It is also the living Word of God, speaking to us this very day. To either extreme in this dialectic, the Bible never exists in a vacuum. It is not a stand alone document. It emerges from the growth of tradition within the Church. It critiques the same Church. In my mind, it is the preeminent voice of the Church, but it is not the only voice.

As the Word is living, it guides our lives. As the Word is living, we are in dialogue with it as we plumb its depths, allowing its words to challenge us, to shape our hearts and minds into the will of God. The traditions of the church also have voice. We know this through the variety of interpretations of scripture from the Church Fathers and Mothers to the present. The Reformers themselves were engaged at rediscovering the tradition of the church that proclaimed the living Word and that shaped the living Word. They both challenged and were challenged by what they discovered in their searching.

The greatest joy to me about scripture is that it is necessarily a human book. We have an incarnational faith. The Bible is no less incarnational, real and human. It is about God?s chosen people, not some imagined utopian society, but an actual messy, difficult, loving, desperate, generous people. The list of adjectives is limitless. It is about God?s people and written by God?s people. For this reason it deserves our utmost respect and seriousness. It demands our scholarship and our reverence. It demands our humor and patience as well.

No form of communication is ever completely clear. I would say the same about revelation. The apostle Thomas understood this well. ?It may be as you say, but unless I see Jesus and touch his wounds I am going to question what you say.? The generosity of the scriptures is that through it God appears to us as He did to Thomas and shows us his wounds. The lack of clarity resides in us. We will touch His wounds and still falter. We are members of the same tradition that penned the scriptures. We struggle with its meaning and its import. We wrestle with its decrees. We may even go so far as to disagree with the scriptures. If we do find ourselves in disagreement with the scriptures, we should do so with great trepidation as the scriptures are both the starting and ending point for Christianity.

We will interpret the Bible differently. We will explore its depths finding different treasures to share with one another. In our dialogue with scripture, however, I believe we are in dialogue with the communion of saints and every Christian who has come before us and will come after. The entirety Christian tradition can guide us in interpretation. It can hold us accountable to the voice of scripture. It can nurture us into holiness both through its guidance and in the liberty we are given to struggle with its demands and claims. The freedom of interpretation is both the freedom to deny the scriptures and perhaps make our own way. It is also the freedom that comes from entering into the community of the faithful who have lived into and out of these scriptures for millennia. To share this burden of interpretation liberates us from our own failings and shortcomings. As a Baptist, I embrace both kinds of freedom of interpretation.

6. How do you understand prayer in terms of your personal life and the corporate life of the church?

The answer to this question could easily be folded into the second essay question. I do not separate theology and spirituality as some may. If there is a theological or philosophical system that has shaped me the most, it is the Christian traditions of prayer and contemplation. The work of Foster, Merton, Nouwen, the Desert Mothers and Fathers, the various monastic movements throughout Christian history, and the work and guidance of E. Glenn Hinson have all had their hand in my development as a Christian. I am so completely ensconced in this tradition that I cannot separate it from being Christian.

As I mentioned in my essays for the first ordination interview, I lived and worked at Richmond Hill, an ecumenical retreat center in Richmond, Virginia, for four years. We kept a rhythm of prayer. Members of the community led morning, noon and evening prayer services that were open to the public. We held a Eucharist service Monday evenings that were led by local pastors (Protestant and Catholic) and ordained members of the residential community. Because of this, a life of prayer has been the backbone to my faith. Again, I cannot imagine myself without it.

In light of those statements, let me say that prayer is the most important tool for entering into and giving voice to the Kingdom of God. It is a discipline that shapes the believer, the Christian community and the world. Prayer is a Christian action. It is not passive in any way.

The story at Richmond Hill is this: the retreat center was once a convent. When the city of Richmond was being burned during the Civil War, the nuns and their prior decided that they would pray for the healing of Richmond every day. In the early 1980?s, the Catholic diocese was forced to sell the convent. A group of church leaders, lay and ordained, found out about the intention of the diocese and raised the money to purchase the property. This was not done because the property was a valuable piece of real estate. It was done because this group recognized the importance of having someone praying for Richmond every day. This is why the convent is now a retreat center and continues to be a place of prayer.

This story has shaped my personal walk in prayer and how I understand how prayer shapes a community. A discipline of prayer can bring about unity. It shapes and molds the minds and hearts of believers so that they may be closer to the will of God. It can give voice to conflict and strife. It can provide reconciliation and healing. It can be a prophetic witness to societal and personal ills such as abuse and racism. It also leads to action.

Richmond Hill does not only pray for racial reconciliation to be done. Prayer leads to action. As it shapes the heart, it shapes the life. Prayer may lead one to stand with the oppressed or to discern a vocation into Christian action. Prayer is a way to enter into a situation to better understand it. To pray for and with the oppressed or with the oppressor will most likely lead to compassion for all God?s children and a clearer understanding of what has led to such strife and division.

Prayer in an ecumenical setting can lead to reconciliation and respect for one another?s traditions. Receiving the bread and wine from a Catholic priest created a bridge of understanding for me. It was a healing and reconciling act. Certainly, the same can be said for the other denominations represented in the liturgical life of Richmond Hill.

Prayer is liturgy. Liturgy is the work of the people. It is primary for a minister to encourage that a congregation become a praying community. Perhaps providing opportunities for prayer services, or moments of silence and sharing in the Sunday morning service will lead to that end. To not encourage a deep and sincere life of prayer in a congregation only handicaps the congregation?s ability to be the very presence of Christ in the world.

Posted by tripp at September 12, 2004 08:49 AM