Showing posts with label narrative theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label narrative theology. Show all posts

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Friday, February 15, 2013

LOVE(s)

Here are the graphics my friend Mel Evans (mel.evans@westwinds.org) created for a teaching I presented concerning the different kinds of loves. Please feel free to download them and use them as you wish, but don't forget to give props to Mel when you do :)

The six loves referenced here are (from the Greek) Storge: affection, Ludus: playfulness, Mania: obsession, Phileo: friendship, Eros: passion, Agape: self-sacrifice.

It is my contention that each of these loves has a positive side (shown in red ink, top left corner) and a negative side (shown in black ink, bottom right corner). For example, Passion can be safely understood as a servant of Love, but can also be misunderstood as Love's savior. So, healthy passion is that kind of love that realizes sex brings two people together and unifies them, securing and reinstating their covenantal obligation. But an unhealthy view of passion misleads people into thinking that great sex is a substitute for great love, or that more sex (or more varieties of sex, or more partners for sex) will guarantee the oneness and satisfaction that only covenantal love can provide.








Friday, December 28, 2012

Heads & Tales: Resources


If you’re at all interested in learning more about Herod the Great, here are the best resources I uncovered during the fall of 2012.


Josephus: the Antiquities of the Jews (also, Jewish Wars), Flavius Josephus
The Jesus Discovery, DA Bradford
Herod: King of the Jews and friend of the Romans, Peter Richardson
The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, Geza Vermes
The New Testament and the People of God, NT Wright
Catholic Encyclopedia
Encyclopedia Britannica
Jewish Encyclopedia


Thursday, December 27, 2012

Heads & Tales: day 23


Herod originally intended to have his son, Herod Antipas, succeed him as King of the Jews but Caesar Augustus vetoed the appointment. Augustus suggested Herod appoint his other son, Archeleus, instead. Herod consented, only—upon Herod’s death—Augustus changed the terms of their arrangement.

Archeleus would have to prove himself worthy to be called king. In the meantime, Caesar gave him the title “ethnarch” (“people ruler”) and governance over only 50% of Judea. Antipas and Philip were each given the title “tetrarch” (meaning, “ruler of one-fourth”) and controlled the remainder of Judea between them. Clearly Caesar’s desire was to pit the brothers against each other and further weaken the Jewish monarchy in hopes of diminishing their resistance to Rome.

The only thing Herod’s heirs even inherited from their father was his ability to scheme and betray and make enemies. Antipas beheaded John the Baptist and sent Christ back to Pilate. Archeleus and Philip, while less notable in the New Testament, were no less notorious in their own day and age.

I think many of us feel like Herod’s children. We sometimes feel like those who have come before us have either screwed us up or screwed us over. Sometimes “they” are the government. Sometimes “they” are our families. Sometimes “they” are our educators, financiers, or predecessors.

But the truth is that we all have a choice about what kind of person we’re going to become.

And the good news of the gospel of God is that you can choose another inheritance simply by selecting another Father.

Herod and his heirs were crooked to the core, but they weren’t cursed with debauchery. They believed that the only way to get power, wealth, and influence in this life was through trickery and connivance. As a result, they lost what little they had amassed and ended up more miserable than ever before.

There’s a lot we could have learned from Herod, but it seems like—in one way or another—humanity has been content to learn from the wrong King of the Jews.

Make sure you interrupt that pattern, and follow the True One instead.


Heads & Tales: day 22


Herod died shortly after the arrival of the Magi, and within seventy years of his death everything he had schemed, labored, and shiestered to acquire was gone.

The Hasmonean monarchy ended with Herod. The kingdom of Judea was divided into three parts among his sons. The Temple was destroyed in 70AD. And though Maritima was only subsumed by the Romans during the Jewish Revolt of 134AD, the Jewish presence had largely diminished after the Temple’s destruction thereby making it effectively Roman.

Herod spent his life hoarding and acquiring power. Then he died, and his power went with him.

Herod undoubtedly expected this, but was unable to accept it. He wanted his power to endure, and even made attempts to guarantee his will would persist beyond death.

For example, knowing his was ill-loved by his own people, Herod decreed that one hundred of the most popular Jewish elders be put to death when he breathed his last. That way, he reasoned, at least someone would be weeping at the death of the King.

Fortunately, no one followed through on Herod’s instruction. The old man was, after all, dead and had no power over his subjects any longer.

The moral of the story? Once you’re dead, you’re done. Live now in such a way as to capture men’s hearts, not control their behaviors.

You can make people appear to love you—they may even celebrate when you’re in the room—but you can’t control what they think and smiles are empty if they’re forced.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Heads & Tales: day 19

The quietest line in Matthew's nativity claims the Magi went home 'by another route.'

They had been warned in a dream that Herod was going to kill them. They had already seen the Christ. They needed to return to their own people, their own customs, their own homes.

But they would do so by another route.

Nobody who meets Christ goes home by the same route. We are all changed by the visitation of God. We are all transformed when we leave our old lives and come to worship the God who gave up his power in solidarity with our suffering.

I think this should be the litmus test for a good Christmas: did you meet Christ? were you changed?

Think about it. We all come to Christmas by the same route: stress, business, frantic gift-getting, over-spending, and a faint commitment that 'this year will be different.' But how many of us actually find ways to re-enter the manger? to re-encounter Christ? We know we're supposed to remember that Jesus is 'the reason for the season' and all that other tripe, but we rarely make it our personal responsibility to encounter him.

And that's one thing no one else can do for you. You have to accept the responsibility yourself. You know all the stories, you're tired of all the songs, you've been to all the events. So. The only thing that can truly be given to Christ at Christmas is your attention.

We all have to make a conscious choice to make Christmas about something other than greed, or panic, or gluttony. And it won't do to make Christmas "special" or "non-commercial." We have to carve time out of our fragmented schedules, and focus our scattered thoughts, on the one who entered our world without privilege, without power, and without strength to show us that our true worth as human beings wasn't found in anything other than our identity as children of God.

When we find that moment of clarity, we too will return from our Christophany by another route.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Heads & Tales: day 18

Xenophobia is the fear of aliens.

We don't typically use that word to reference a fear of extra-terrestrials, but a fear of foreigners. All the people who want to built fences to keep Mexicans out of the USA? Xenophobes. All those who think that Cuban immigrants should be put back on rafts and made to sail to Havana? Xenophobes. All those who wish those wetbacks would stop screwing up our economy and taking our jobs? Xenophobes.

But the Nativity story is replete with the heroism of foreigners and the safety of foreign lands.

Consider that the Magi were Persians, not Jews. They didn't even practice the Jewish religion. Their religion wasn't compatible with Judaism either, as their Zoroastrian astrology involved practices specifically forbidden in the Hebrew scriptures. If you want a good contemporary parallel, you'd need to imagine that--instead of Billy Graham or the Pope visiting the manger--it was the Dalai Lama or Bal Thackary.

The foreigners were the good guys, while the nationals were running around with swords killing babies.

Consider, also, that the Holy Family fled to Egypt. During that time, Egypt was undoubtedly more hospitable to Jews than it had been during Moses' life, but the fact remains that it would have felt like that Jewish family was running off to Auschwitz for protection.

Because their homeland wasn't safe.

I have dual citizenship. I am Canadian by birth, and American by ancestry. I hold two valid passports and have voted federally in both countries. I'd love to say that Canadians are far more tolerant than Americans about issues of foreign identity, but they're not. The great Canadian racism involves hating Americans for--ironically--being bigots.

But I will say the standard posture of American Christians seems to be one of unrestrained Xenophobia. Somehow we imagine that this is our land, that these are our rights, and that everything should be done our way to protect our country, our freedoms, and our religious rights.

Herod felt that way. The Sanhedrin felt that way. That basic principle was just about the only thing uniting the Pharisees and the Sadducees.

And I wonder how it got into our churches?

And I wonder how it got called 'Christian'?

And I wonder whether any of us can be self-scrutinizing enough to repent, and act like citizens of another kingdom altogether?

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Heads & Tales: day 17


I’m bad at math, but sometimes still try.

Recently I asked my friend Amy to help me with a little math problem, to try and determine the approximate worth of the Magi’s gift to the Christ child.

They brought gold, silver, and myrrh.

The common coin, a silver denarius, weighed about 1 ounce. In today’s market, an ounce of silver is worth $33.82 USD. Gold is worth 51.4x silver, so a gold coin would be valued at $1739.89 USD.

IF the Magi gave Christ a gift of gold coins, we can safely assume they gave him no less than 100 gold coins (possibly more), thus amounting to approximately $173,989 USD.

Frankincense was worth 10x the value of gold, but they probably gave him less. If we surmise that 1 measure of frankincense weighed 3 ounces and that they gave him 3 measures of that kingly gift, then the approximate value of the frankincense offering would have been $156,451.50.

Myrrh was worth 5x the value of frankincense, resulting in three measures valuing approximately $782,260.

Total value of all three gifts combined? $1,112,700

But let’s not forget to multiply that by a standard rate of inflation from 0AD to the present day, 5.49, thus resulting in a total gift (adjusted) of $6,108,723 USD.

What a ridiculous number.

You may, of course, doubt the process by which I’ve arrived at this remarkable sum. I invite you to do so. But EVEN IF I’m VERY, VERY WRONG the gift was still an astronomical sum given to a stonemason’s family earning the equivalent of $30,000/yr without medical or dental insurance.

It’s a crap-ton of money.

They gave lavishly to Christ.

To whom do we give lavishly?

In my case, I’m saddened to think that I most frequently give to people I cannot impress or to purchase things I cannot keep.

But the gifts of the Magi convict me. They gave gifts fit for a king—gold was a gift of allegiance, given in tax; frankincense was a gift of coronation, given at the moment of a king’s ascension; myrrh was a gift of burial, given at interment.

If they recognized him as king in such a costly manner, why don’t I?