Blog 14

I wanted to use this blog to organize my thoughts for the final exam. First, considering a reaction to the school shooting from a theological point of view based on prayer, I would like to discuss the implications of the Lord's prayer and what they mean for a response to this tragedy. In the Lord's prayer, we are taught to pray to Our Father in Heaven, who is holy--the point that God is ours, not mine, in our prayers, and the acknowledgement that God is our Creator forces us to recognize that God is the ruler of everyone, including both the victims and perpetrators of violent acts. We then also acknowledge that everything we have comes from God, down to the very bread that we eat daily, and we pray for God's kingdom to come. In The Upside Down Kingdom, the author talks about the kingdom as being possible here on earth--that we can bring about God's kingdom through social action and responsibility, thus reversing the human-nature centeredness of the world. Lastly, the Lord's prayer teaches us that we must first pray for forgiveness for ourselves and then give our forgiveness to others. We also ask God to save us from evil--not only the cosmic evil, but that which we ourselves are involved in. Viewing the school shooting from this perspective can explain a great deal about the response of the Amish people who were affected by the tragedy. Examining the response from a theological lens, we are forced to acknowledge the fact that we are all sinners, and each of us is as guilty as the next--we all owe our lives and our everything to God; thus, we cannot separate our sinful acts from those of others and label them worse. We cannot dehumanize our persecuters; in fact, we should forgive them, just as many of the victims of the shootings have already done. In recognizing that we must also ask for forgiveness, we are better able to forgive. Tragedies remind us that we are not in control of our lives and cannot dictate our own blessings. The fact that we pray for God's kingdom makes us responsible to act out God's kingdom through our actions, and this certainly calls for the radical act of forgiveness that is often so difficult to commit. If we believe that the law of prayer is the law of belief, and that our believe is truth, because if it weren't, it would not be real belief, than we are obligated to respond in a godly manner.
This brings about the subject of narrative, in the idea of forgiveness and acting out the lifestyle of Christianity to which we are called. Our prayer reminds us of the fact that God is creator, and that God created order out of chaos. God does not create things that are not good. In our indebtedness to God for creating and blessing us, God shows us grace; however, with that grace, comes a responsibility. This responsibility ties into living a lifestyle of Christianity, rather than believing in the concept of Christianity. We are called to radical behavior, just as it was radical in the days when Jesus lived. The reason it is so radical is because it is so different from our human nature--to forgive, to consider others before ourselves, to express beliefs that are not widely accepted. The actions of the Amish families who forgave the man who murdered their kin were seen as radical by most who witnessed it. Analysis of the tragedy from a Christian narrative viewpoint based on the teachings and lifestyle of Jesus would, however, undoubtedly lead to a similar response as that expressed by many in the community. The tragedy opened up an opportunity to show exactly the kind of radical love to which Jesus calls us. It is through our responses to things like this that we can show discipleship through our reactions, and be the example of which Jesus speaks when he tells us that we are light and salt.
The discipleship concept laid out in our narrative interpretation of a Biblical worldview towards the school shooting brings about the third approach, that of ministry and God's will for us. As I recalled the layers of faith that we discussed in class, I began to wonder if a tragic event can't play a significant role in helping us move from one "level" to the next--that it might make us ask deeper questions and lead us to a better understanding of our mission. In a sense, we can think about life-changing events as being faith-changing events as well--that is, they may change the nature of our faith, and if we allow them, aid in deepening its roots. Analysis from this viewpoint leads me to ponder the message that we may receive from the school shooting about what we should be doing with our faith and how we should be using our gifts. We should remember that we are God's creatures--God's creation, and we must interpret events from this perspective, rather than the more tempting instinct to mold our responses to what suits us best. This is, in a sense, making ourselves the creators and giving ourselves the responsibility that belongs to God. Our own image of God and "what Jesus would do" may be very different from the truth, especially if it is not based in the Biblical message about discipleship and duty.
This brings me to the ethics section, from which a number of different interpretations can be drawn. In determining reactions from an ethical standpoint, I think it is important to ask the right questions and examine their answers from a Biblical perspective--this will not always bring about the same response, but I think it is a good start to understanding the role that each party plays in any interaction between groups. In the case of the shooting, a biblical perspective based in ethics might, if looking from a deontological base, consider the responsibility of each person involved in the event--how that responsibility may have been breached by some, and how those affected might react in a responsible way. A virtue/narrative base might consider the way in which such a tragedy fits into the ongoing story of God's creation and our lives on earth--this takes away a bit of the individuality in the responses of the victims, but at the same time it lends a sort of freedom to them. It enables them to see the issue in perspective and further give up control to God. This action in turn makes the forgiveness of which we have discussed so much even more possible.
These four perspectives from which a Biblical worldview can be formed combine to paint a stronger and more cohesive picture of what a response from such a worldview might look like.

blog 13

The last two weeks have left me feeling somewhat in a funk about my worship life, and I have been thinking a lot about religion in such an abstract way that I have felt disconnected in prayer and uninspired to turn to God for guidance. After discussing prayer in such depth, I have somehow felt distanced, struggling with the concept of what it means to pray and getting caught up in whether I do it right, which keeps me from doing it all all. I am thinking about this problem a great deal and seem to be doing little about it. Considering Christian ethics from the perspective of secular roots, I also find myself distancing and feel the consequences of this in my general mood. I wonder so often why it is that at the time when we need God most in our lives, we tend to shut God out, despite fully recognizing our dependence. I also wonder why it is so difficult to share this in a matter of fact way with others, when we, or at least I, know what a freeing and inspiring experience it can be. I know that it is in this fashion that prayer is meant to be a powerful form of worship, just as I know that practicing "personal" Christian ethics is a useless endeavor without community to endorse and enforce it. When community is such an integral part, or should be, of a Christian's lifestyle and ability to worship, why is it that we fear that deep of a connection and resort to what seems like more comfortable and simple interactions. The vulnerability that worshiping expresses and facilitates is nothing less than a wonderful gift, but somehow it seems that people will do anything and everything to prevent being perceived as vulnerable. Why do we associate it with weakness? It obviously takes more courage to make oneself vulnerable than it does to move along with a silent, self-conscous crowd. Strength is manifested in the ability to trust, and we do so little of that. To trust in God, if one believes in God, should not be challenging at all. To trust in people, who are fallible, is in some senses an even greater exhibition of faith. I think of Jesus, who was a person--capable of messing up? The fate of humanity has always been in the hands of God, but God then put it in the hands of a mortal--God made mortal--how much faith God put in God's creation...it seems strange that we put such little faith back into God. The feelings I have struggled with over the last few weeks are not new, and I know that they are not permanent. It is dealing with them that makes them go away, and what we so often don't want to do when we are troubled. Talking about it, however, makes me want to worship and be vulnerable--or admit that I am vulnerable, because that never changes.

blog 12

Wednesday's reading and class have left me considering a concept that I have not thought about before. Once Christians' were not persecuted anymore, they had to struggle more intensively to be active, convicted, and ethical in their Christian practice/lifestyle. I have thought about the shift before, when Constantine declared Christianity a state religion, and have always viewed it in a somewhat negative light, because at that time so many pagan traditions were incorporated into Christianity in order to appease those who did not want to change. It seems that this was exactly what God warned against--I often grapple with this, wondering about the legitimacy of some of the things we do as Christians, and even whether we are truly following God's will, or just conforming to the popularity of Christian customs that aren't necessarily theologically sound. At any rate, I had not considered the aspect in which a system of ethics had to be developed once Christianity was the accepted norm. I think it is so interesting and logical that in a time of persecution, people who identified as Christians did so with great intention and great risk, and their lifestyles reflected their faith in a dramatic way, so that they acted out and confirmed their ethics daily through living as professed Christians. However, when people began converting to Christianity at a rapid rate, reflecting not necessarily true conviction but rather participation in a popular trend that seemed to be reasonable and righteous, they did not bring with them the knowledge, faith, and ardent lifestyle that was required of Christians previously. Therefore, a set of ethics had to be defined. I have been thinking about how we live today, and it seems as though we comply with the very minimal amount that we can in order to avoid breaking the rules--completely missing the point of grace, responsibility, and love. Rather than governing our lives by the principles at the heart or root of every action, we end up only half-heartedly worshiping God and acting out our Christian faith in a feeble way.

blog 11

I have been thinking this week about the concept of Christian ethics through the lens of the recent readings and have noted a few things in the readings that particularly caught my attention. I am overall considering the whole concept of Christian ethics, which must involve some interpretation of the Bible itself, along with application to modern life. This interpretation can be a dangerous privelege, I think, and must be done so responsibly, both to avoid word-for-word translation to life (missing the implications or deeper meanings involved in the Bible's lessons), and also to avoid a self-serving interpretation of the Bible's teachings to meet one's own standards of morality.
It is also interesting to me that Christian ethics has a background in the study of ethics formed by non-religious philosophers. Of course, the teachings of Jesus, for example, are accepted as being fairly basic, and in the most non-religious sense, just acceptable moral standards with which most would agree. I liked the manner in which Verhey et al's introduction compared Socrates with Jesus, because in practical application of leading a "good life," they are very similar. However, the authors then clarify that Socrates knew only the right questions to ask, and I would complete the idea by arguing that Jesus knew the right answers. Additionally, the fact that Jesus is the Son of God and calls us to much more than just a moral life, distinguishes the study of the general ethics of humanity from Christian ethics.
I also appreciated the distinction that "It is better...to be a moral person...than merely to be a person who thinks carefully about morality...[but] thinking about morality can help us become more moral people," as can following the example of those whom we accept as exhibiting moral standards. I relate to this because it ties in the personal relationship that must be involved with the study of religion--while it is wonderful to theologenize, there is also a danger of depersonalizing oneself from religion, making in more of a concept and less of a lifestyle. To study "goodness" does not translate into doing or being "goodness." One must personally connect to the lifestyle that is involved, otherwise, there is no motivation or inspiration to actually act it out.
In Janzen's chapter, I was struck by the idea, which I found to be very accurate, that our general understanding of the Old Testament figures and stories as taught us from a young age is flawed. Children tend to look at particular characters in the Bible as heroic, good, exemplary follwers of God. In doing so, they give credit to the people themselves but don't truly understand the virtues expressed in their actions--Janzen points out that Abraham, Moses, David, and others, were not necessarily the best people--they made a lot of mistakes. However, their singular actions at a particular point in God's story were good examples of moral actions, even if those characters themselves performed the actions with different intentions than those for which God used them. I also liked Janzen's argument that his examples are situational--that they are applicable within the context of the ongoing story, and not to be extracted and used in every situation in every context. They do, however, have implications for what happens later on in the overall story of the Bible.
I found Aristotle's segment to be a little more challenging, particularly in his postulation that the gods like people that "understand" life better than those who don't. Obviously, I must remember that he was not writing from a Christian perspective, and I cannot translate his use of the word gods to a Christian understanding of God. I do think, however, that it points out another danger in interpretation of ethics. While it is important to study and important to try to understand to a certain degree, I think it can be a vain attempt to insist on understanding everything--it is not our job to do so, not possible, and not always helpful or productive in our lives. As humans, the creation of God, there is a mystery in God's divinity that we cannot comprehend. However, I am reaching beyond the scope of ethics, which is, of course, important to understand in order to determine the manner in which we lead our lives. One obvious thing is that an extremely wide variety of interpretations of morality exist in our world today.

blog 10

In writing my paper about prayer and analyzing the beliefs revealed in the different prayers we pray, I have been contemplating a number of themes, particularly those addressed in our readings. The reading by Nicholas Lash intrigued me through its discussion of the manner in which we address God as our Father, and the limitedness of our ability to express our relationship with God and understand it--when we think of a father, a very human, personal experience is brought to mind, and it is problematic because we each have very different and dynamic relationships with our earthly fathers, whether good or bad. This would mean somehow that we each envision God to be somewhat different, but it is wrong to envision him as a Father in the human sense anyway, because in doing so we assume God is a creature. Additionally, as Lash explains, our tendency to interpret father in a literal, human sense, forces us to exlude the maternal in God. It is important to think about our meaning when we call on God, our Father, and what we truly believe God to be (although, no matter what we believe God is, that does not change or alter what God actually is).
I then consider Augustine's confessions, and am deeply moved by some of the seemingly simple truths with which he struggles. The overall theme seems to be, God, you are my creator--who else could have produced anything at all, let alone anything good? God, you are the only one who can forgive my debts and the debts of others. I do not need to understand you to worship or rejoice in you, and to try to understand you fully would discredit my faith. I should rather, "delight in finding you who are beyond discovery rather than fail to find you by supposing you to be discoverable." (8) Augustine concludes the section by confessing, "I will be with you since it was your gift to me that I exist." These passages bring much peace to me, because they remind me that God's existence as my creator is the truth, and I cannot fight that and do not want to, because to do so would mean to have to work endlessly to find other meaning in my life, to no avail. I am able to then think less about understanding God and more about being free in my faith and letting go of my own control.
Wadell's article on forgiveness and redemption has challenged and inspired me, of course drawing my attention to what I mean personally when I ask God, in the Lord's prayer and my own prayers, to forgive me, and if I do so with the right intentions and the right expectations. I agree that it is inappropriate to think of forgiveness as a free pass to get out of the consequences of sin--on the contrary, it can only happen alongside the earthly consequences of sin, the dealing with of which lead to redemption. The consequences of sin are inescapable, but the willingness to live forgiven makes them bearable--without this willingness, one could argue that the sinner has not truly repented of his or her sin.
Finally, I am brought to consider the meaning of a kingdom turned upside down without getting stuck on the semantics of when, where, and what this kingdom actually is and represents. Kraybill has made me consider even further what it means to ask God for God's kingdom to come and what I believe God's kingdom is, from a Christian perspective or worldview.
Each of these readings, as I prepare my paper, forces me to really challenge the substance of my beliefs as reflected through prayer. In particular, in the analysis of John Baillie's prayer, I must step aside from my feelings that it is a sincere and poetic prayer, prayed with the best of intention and beliefs, and really examine what the prayer says about the way that Baillie believes in and perceives God, and whether that is an accurate perception based on the fundamental Christian beliefs portrayed through the Lord's prayer.

Blog 9

Class this week has been both challenging and thought provoking, an overall fascinating examination of the implication of the words of the Lord's Prayer. While it is a prayer that most Christians recite word for word at least weekly, it's words are often quoted quite thoughtlessly. Of course, this does not mean that they should not be said just because they are not understood, but taking the time to analyze each phrase is certainly not something I have ever done. In doing so, I am beginning to think that each word could lead to a hundred different theological discussions, and in combination, an infinity of possible insights. When Jesus told his disciples to pray using these words, how much did he intend for us to extract from them? The words are a formula, but are they a rule of prayer or a strict theological teaching? I am brought to the question of discrepancies between our purpose in prayer and God's purpose for our prayer. How in the world do we discriminate between our own wordly definitions and interpretations of God's desire and God's true desire? The boundaries of our human theological thought processes are overwhelming, and lead me to intense "head-hurting" moments, as Randy would call them. However, it is when I get caught up in my own ponderances, trying to understand, that I become the most confused. There has to be some sort of balance between our desire to understand God and our ability to be satisfied with mystery. I think God wants us to try to understand--if we don't, we are in a sense avoiding truth by denying our intelligence. It seems like an insult to God to pretend that we humans are too human to understand God--God did create us afterall, and I am sure that God created us with the ability to understand as much as we needed to understand to get through life on Earth. Even now, however, I speak of God and God's intentions and desires, and the only way I am able to do so is in the language terms that I have learned. How is it that we can get to the point of reconstructing our image of God in our heads, abandoning the language that refers to God as a thing and accepting God for what God is--that God is (at least, that is as much as God told Moses).
These classes have me thinking more deeply about the trouble of words and expression and truth in relation to prayer than I think I ever have. At the same time, however, I have found it even more difficult to pray in the last couple of weeks. While I think this is a common experience, I wonder why it is that the more I have been thinking about prayer, the less I have been doing prayer. I have to be careful not to become so philosophical or intellectual about it that I distance myself from what it really is, which is a communication with God that I am required to partake in and should enjoy, without worrying about whether I am doing it right or it is being heard, whether God is disappointed in my prayers or I am doing them with the wrong intention.
The idea that the law of prayer is the law of belief has me challenging both my prayers and my belief. I say that I believe, but does my prayer life reflect that? Do I choose to believe in God? Does one choose to believe in the Truth? I don't choose to believe in things we commonly know as true, I just do because they are--so do I have the same perception of God? How do I avoid creating God in my own image for my own convenience, and if I don't, how do I find rest in the idea of forgiveness and salvation?

blog 8

This week's discussions have left me pondering the idea of prayer as being a "group" event--the emphasis in class of the words of the Lord's prayer, which reference a plural party in phrases such as our Father, give us our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, was one to which I had never really given focus.
It makes perfect sense that prayer is a conversation to be shared amongst believers and God, especially considering the notion that God should be in the center of every Christian relationship; however, for some reason it seems very difficult to make that inclusion on a regular basis. Prayer with other people can be so fulfilling, relieving, and uniting, and yet it seems to only occur in extreme times--in times of mourning or working through an argument, and more rarely in times of rejoicing, but hardly ever as a part of a daily routine shared with other people. It seems like people have an anxiety about praying in front of others, and would rather refer that "responsibility" to those who are "trained" to do so--in spite of the fact that as Christians, Jesus has given all of us all the training we need through his examples of prayer. I don't know that I have ever thought of somebody elses prayer as stupid or silly sounding, but I wonder if we don't all harbor some sort of fear that ours will be that way when we pray with others.
Just as we have touched on in class, I think that prayer is something that must be intentionally done, because if it is not a routine, it fades away and becomes more and more difficult to do or to remember to do. While it is important not to forget the meaning behind it or do it without thought, I think it is probably better to pray than not to pray, even when it feels like empty words.
I was once told of a discussion a friend had with a nun, who spent a great deal of every day praying--she admitted that most of the time, she did not feel very much of a connection with God or that there was true meaning or feeling in what she was doing. But every great once and a while, she felt an immense, real connection, and that it was worth all that seemingly meaningless and routine prayer to get to that point. I would argue that one cannot really experience that sort of relationship with God without participating in the responsibility of regular communion with God through prayer.
Back to the idea of group prayer--it intrigues me because we are also shown very significant examples of prayer between Jesus and God alone, in which Jesus intentionally isolated himself from other people so that he could pray alone. These were such important examples--particularly, in the garden the night before his crucifiction--deep moments dealing with the personal conflict and even fear that Jesus experienced.
As well, though we are taught a "method" of prayer in the Lord's prayer, we are also told by Paul that when we are so distraught that we cannot find the words we need to pray, the Spirit intercedes for us and God knows what we need. Scripture also tells us, however, that God always knows what we are going to pray for before we pray for it, but that we must pray for it in order to receive it.
While the messages on prayer are complex and many, one very clear thing is that it is central to the Christian lifestyle and essential in a relationship with God--it is, in fact the way by which we have a relationship with God. It is important to note that prayer should not always be a private affair, a message that I think is meant to emphasize the fact that prayer can and should be the foundation of relationships between people and not just between a person and God. However, it is also obvious that prayer can be a comfort for the lonely and something that takes place when alone as well. One does not have a friend and only think about him or talk about him when he is with him; he does so when he is not there as well. Just as we do not only talk about God or to God in church or with other people, we must devote ourselves to God when others are not around as well. Prayer is important! Just like telling someone that you love him or her--even if it does become a routine that you don't always think about, it does not change the fact that you do love that person, so it does no harm to repeat it often. Even if prayer is sometimes not "meant," it does not mean that you don't believe in God or love God, and praying is certainly not something that should only be done when one feels particularly moved to do so.