Now come on...that's just funny

“The Democrats seem to be basically nicer people, but they have demonstrated time and again that they have the management skills of celery. They’re the kind of people who’d stop to help you change a flat, but would somehow manage to set your car on fire. I would be reluctant to entrust them with a Cuisinart, let alone the economy. The Republicans, on the other hand, would know how to fix your tire, but they wouldn’t bother to stop because they’d want to be on time for Ugly Pants Night at the country club.” - Dave Berry

Revelation 19

Here is a piece of a paper I wrote for my Apocalyptic Literature class this past spring. I offer it now as it pertains to and was the initial stimulus of the train of thought explored briefly in my last post. I hope further connect these two posts in another future one.

Introduction
I have suggested before that the two most often mishandled books of the canon are the book of Genesis and the book of Revelation. There is something about these books that causes us to thrust our own agendas upon them. With Genesis, we try to reconcile or combat science with what the book has to say in its first two chapters. And with Revelation we try to piece together ("decode") exactly how the world is going to end. In both instances we miss completely the purpose of each book. Sometimes this leads to confusion or misunderstanding that is of little consequence. But other times dangerous ideas and doctrines are produced.

There is, I believe, another way in which the book of Revelation is mishandled; it is by transposing the stories of the Old Testament onto the story of John. We must allow John to tell his own story independently! Yes, John uses symbols and images from the Prophets, but that does not mean he is telling their story in a different way. Rather, he is telling his own story with the help of their imagery. This is exactly the hazard that people commonly fall into when dealing with Revelation 19:11-16.

Explanation
Before we examine this passage it is important that we place it in its proper context within the book of Revelation. Revelation 19 is one unit of thought, and to look at one of its particulars without looking at the chapter as a whole breeds misunderstandings. Revelation 19:1-21 can be outlined for our purposes as follows.

A. Heavenly Worship/Wedding Service: 1-8
1. Location 1: Heaven, Great Multitudes (1-3)
2. Location 2: Throne Room, 24 Elders and 4 Living Creatures (4)
3. Location 3: Throne, Voice (5)
4. Location 4: Heaven, Great Multitudes (6-8)

B. Narrative Interlude: 9-10

C. War Assembly: 11-21
1. Location 5: The "Gates" of Heaven, Divine Warrior and Army (11-16)
2. Location 6: Earth, Invasion and Victory (17-21)

John vision moves from one location to another, bombarding the reader with different scenes. Initially, we see a celebration in the heavenly realm over the fall of Babylon (Revelation 18) and the Marriage feast of the Lamb (Revelation 19:6-9). But this picture of celebration and worship quickly fades and the reader is now looking at Divine Warrior on horseback with an army prepared to invade the created realm (Revelation 19:11-16):

"Then I saw heaven opened and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems; and he has a name inscribed that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood and his name is called the Word of God. And the armies of heaven, wearing fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron; he will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name inscribed, "King of kings and Lord of lords."

The careful studier will notice that much of Revelation 19:11-16 is an allusion to Isaiah 63:1-6:

"Who is this coming from Edom, from Bozrah, with his garments stained with crimson? Who is this, robed in splendor, striding forward in the greatness of his strength?
'It is I, speaking in righteousness, mighty to save.'
Why are your garments red, like those of one treading the winepress?
'I have trodden the winepress alone; from the nations no one way with me. I trampled them in my anger and trod them down in my wrath; their blood spattered my garments, and I stained all my clothing. It was for me the day of vengeance; the year for me to redeem had come. I looked, but there was no one to help, I was appalled that no one gave support; so my own arm achieved salvation for me, and my own wrath sustained me. I trampled the nations in my anger; in my wrath I made them drunk and poured their blood on the ground.'"

The similarity makes it easy to project Isaiah image of a Divine Warrior slaughtering enemies onto John's narrative. Thus, one interprets the blood on the robe to be pointing forward to the battle that is about to take place. But to do so is a terrible mistake. Mounce will argue that this is indeed the case, pointing out that apocalyptic texts often show the outcome of something before it occurs through such a symbol. There are two major problems with this interpretation: (1) it limits John to a literary category developed long after he writes his Apocalypse, and (2) it altogether ignores the most powerful motif and theme in the book, that of the Lamb-Slain. John is not telling a violent tale, this is evident from the powerful transformation of "the Lion of the tribe of Judah" into the Slain-Lamb (Revelation 5).

What happened in chapter 5 is occurring again. Here the Divine Warrior motif of Isaiah (and others) emerges onto the scene, and the audience prepares for a massacre of the enemies of God. And then a big twist comes. This warrior's robe is dipped in blood even before the battle starts (19:13)! His 'army' is not wearing armor, but the fine white linen of priests (19:14)! His only weapon is his word (19:15)! As David Barr puts it: "This story does not deny the power of good; it redefines it" (137). Some have called this "absurd"; but as Harrington puts it: "It is not absurd for one who can define 'conquering' as 'dying' and 'Lion' as 'Lamb'", to envision a warrior of heaven stained with his own blood (193).

John has given a Christological reinterpretation to the Jewish tradition of a Divine Warrior. He has identified this Warrior with his own motif of a Slain-Lamb. This image of a Divine Warrior with a robe dipped in blood, if understood as his own blood, effectively ties together three major motifs in the book of Revelation (Slain-Lamb, Divine Warrior, and Wine-Press).

Conclusion
To hold that the blood on the rider's robe is his enemies is misguided. We must keep separate John's ideas from his predecessors; the Prophets. John does not intend for his story to be interpreted the same as those of Isaiah's. If we do this we make, in a sense, the same mistake of that the Pharisees of Jesus' time did. They expected a different kind of Messiah; one that would crush their Roman rulers and set up a new Jewish nation. But this was not God's plan. His plan called for the Messiah to suffer, and to die.

It is the same with the John's story. Some expect a mighty Divine Warrior to slaughter the evil rulers of this world. If they continue in this understanding they will be disappointed. For the liberator, the Divine Warrior, the Victor that will come is a Lamb. In this story the power of good over evil is the power of suffering (2:10; 6:9-11), the power of faithful testimony (12:11), and the power of steadfast resistance (2:2; 13:10) (Barr, 137). Yes, there must be a heavenly response to the injustice and oppression of this world; but that response is not more violence, it is suffering and Sacrifice. A God that loves, and so makes himself vulnerable to suffering; that the God I see in this passage and throughout the book of Revelation. And it is this God that John is attempting to synthesize with the more violent God of his predecessors.

We have seen how one's interpretation of this crucial image (the rider with garments dipped in blood) can dictate how one understands the entire position of the book of Revelation. I have suggested that the proper interpretation is that the blood on the rider's garment is his own blood, evidenced by the larger theme of the Slain-Lamb in the book of Revelation. Others have suggested that literary style and the Old Testament context should trump this idea. Depending on which interpretation, his enemy's blood or his own blood, one comes out with a very different view of God. The former is a violent, angry God, and the latter is a God of love. I serve the latter.

Works Cited

Barr, David L. Tales of the End: A Narrative Commentary on the Book of Revelation. Santa Rosa, CA: Polebridge Press, 1998.

Harrington, Wilfrid J. Sacra Pagina: Revelation. Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1993.

What if...

What if the first reaction of our president and our nation after 9-11 was not one of revenge and "justice", but one of love?

What if George W. Bush tore up the draft of his soon after speech that promised war and instead gave a speech that balanced outrage and condemnation at the attacks with a sentiment of forgiveness and reconciliation?

What if he would have initiatied a fundemental paradigm shift in United States foreign policy and said something to the effect of, "as fanatically as 'you' aim to attack and kill 'us', we shall offer aid and a helping hand to you. As much as 'you' hate 'us' we will love you. And instead of honoring our dead by seeking vengeance, we shall honor them by seeking peace."

Seems like a pretty crazy idea to me (almost idiotic); but would it have had a worse result than the one the world is experiencing now?

I by no means expect the United States to trade in its foreign policy principles of revenge and preemptive war; only a Christian nation would do that.

One Beautiful Night in Hong Kong

On April 25th I woke up not feeling very well. On April 27th I went to the hospital. The doctor did not seem concerned; he gave me five days worth of antibiotics and said I should be better by Monday, May 1st. I wasn't better - I wouldn't be better for another 13 days.

The timing was unfortunate - I was leaving for Hong Kong on May 1st, to eventually head into mainland China and work at an orphanage and leper village for several weeks. In Hong Kong on Wednesday, May 3 I saw another doctor, who again prescribed antibiotics and said that I would probably feel better by the end of the week. Friday, May 5th I was still very sick and on a plane back to Indianapolis heading home early, angry and confused. My anger and confusion only increased when I discovered on Saturday, May 6th that the reason I had not regained my health was because I was misdiagnosed.

But that is another story. Today, I feel fine; and tonight was the first time I opened up my journal and re-read what I wrote on May 2 - my first day in Hong Kong...

...I am now a minority and I feel it. I cannot communicate, cannot understand, cannot navigate this massive city. I am a child again, just born hours ago into a Chinese world.

I read about China a lot before I came here; I felt like I had a decent grasp of what this place was all about. I was a fool. This place, like most other places in the world, cannot be described by a book or a news anchor, not even a Chinese person I imagine. I know already that I will be unable to explain to my friends what a single bus ride, or meal, or marketplace, was truly like. Language is not designed to handle such a massive amount of input.

But one thing was familiar. I close my night even now sitting in the courtyard of High Rock Christian Camp listening to a beautiful worship service. The melodies and words were foreign, but the Spirit of the people I know. One thing came with me (rather before me) to China: my God. My God is here and so I feel at peace. Though I am scared, I feel peace. Though I am sick (and not getting any better), I feel peace....

Today, though I am still angry, I feel peace. Though I am still confused, I feel peace. Though I do not understand the past 20 days, I feel peace. My God is here.

Second Chances

I don't understand prayer. These days I do not pretend to know how it works; I just do it.


First Chance
About two years ago I was home for the first day of summer break. I was sitting in the sanctuary of my church waiting to meet with a pastor. It was not sudden, it was not loud. It was not even a voice, but a thought: Go find Sam. Like most of the strange thoughts that pass through my mind I ignored it. But it did not go away…Go find Sam.

Sam was a close friend of mine from high school. He still lived in Columbus (where I am from) about 50 minutes from my church. Perhaps only out of curiosity I went; to go find Sam. When I arrived on his campus I was at a loss. How was I supposed to find him? I searched for a while, but quickly gave up hope and sat down outside of the Student Union. I was about to leave when I saw him walking towards me.

I had another strange thought as Sam and I headed to the cafeteria for lunch: Don't leave him. Again I ignored it, only this time I did for good. After lunch I went home, confused as to why I ever went to find him.

A few days later Sam told me that a few nights ago he had done something awful - it was the day that I had gone to find him. Suddenly it became clear why I was not supposed to leave him - what happened that night never would have happened if I would have been there. There have been only a few times in my life when I have been that angry with myself, I had failed Sam.

Second Chance
Two days ago I was sitting in Apocalyptic Literature and a strange thought came into my head: Go to the prayer chapel. I hesitated…my professor was in the middle of a lecture, but I went.

When I entered I saw to girls, one sitting in the front pew on the left side, and another in a middle pew on the right. The one on the left was crying, and so I decided that since I was given no instruction as to what I was to do here I would pray for this crying stranger. Only a few minutes later, I was on my knees near the back of the chapel praying when I heard footsteps heading towards the door. They stopped and I looked up, and there was the girl I was praying for. She said, "Thank you for praying for me" and left. I paused for a moment, then got up and headed back to class.


I don't understand what happened. I don't know why I was the one who was compelled to go. But I am reminded of the Gospel of Mark. As I understand it the Gospel of Mark is the account of Peter (a failed disciple), written down by Mark (a failed missionary), and it was likely written to a Roman church (many of whom were failed Christians who denied their faith in the midst of a recent persecution). The God I serve gives people second chances. And two days ago he gave me one.

I don't understand prayer. These days I don't pretend to know how it works; I just do it.

Violence for Entertainment

I like movies, especially action movies. I like fight scenes and good guys and bad guys. I like guns, and I like it when they shoot people. I also like swords, and when they are in the hands of a master (like Indigo Montoya) I like it even better. I like boxing, and mixed martial arts; and the bigger the uppercut or cleaner the axe kick the more I like it. And I really like it when Russell Crowe has two swords in his hands and skillfully swings both, effectively decapitating his enemy.

This never really bothered me. It was part of being a man: fighting -liking warfare. And so movies Braveheart and Gladiator are my favorite kind. I never paused and thought about what exactly was going on inside of me when I watched such movies.

And then this one day I was forced to pause for a moment. As with most of my epiphanies it was not an original thought but stimulated by others and I was forced to ask myself: "Do I really (I mean really) value human life when I enjoy these movies and TV shows?" My quick answer was, "Yes!" Of course I do! I am, after all, a Christian.

Let me take a step back and make clear what I am NOT talking about. I am not entering into an argument for Pacifism (although that is another thing on my mind these days - but it is a different discussion). The discussion I am putting forth is not so much whether it is correct for the Christian to fight, etc., as it is whether or not it is sinful to watch violence for entertainment purposes. Again, do not be confused, I am not asking whether it is sinful to watch a violent movie. Indeed, I believe there are many movies that are violent, that DO value human life and can be helpful for reflection. I am asking whether or not it is sinful to watch an action movie (or any other genre of movie) for the purpose of being entertained by the violent fight scenes, crafty ways that the evil-doer manipulates and kills his victims, other such scenarios. My sense is that there is some sin occurring. Not in the action of watching the movie, but in the motivation behind why one watches the movie (or other media).

Dare I say that it is not a sin to watch a pornographic movie; but it is a sin to watch it so that one may have a sexual experience. Walking accidentally into a women's locker room and seeing a naked woman is not a sin (although you will have some explaining to do), but intentionally sneaking in so that one can see a naked woman and lust would most certainly be a sin.

In the same way, watching violence (on the street or in the movie theater) is not a sin, but watching violence for the sake of entertainment seems to me like it would be a sinful thing to do. And so to state my questions again,

1. Is it a sin to NOT value human life?
2. If it is, then is it a sin to watch a movie or a UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) match for the intent of being entertained by the loss or damaging of human life?


This is not even to mention many of the video games out there today. Is one truly valuing human life when one walks around a level killing (in graphic fashion typically) everything that moves? Oh I know that people are not actually being hurt and not actually being killed, but get serious. Don't find yourself innocent on a technicality. The fact is, these images while not "real" represent very real things. And I am convinced that there will certainly be (and have already been) consequences for viewing the loss and damaging of life so flippantly.

This line of thought makes me very uncomfortable…I do not want to have to stop watching horror movies and epic battle scenes; but I see no way around it. So I challenge you (and myself) to take a second and ask, "What is my motive here?" "Am I valuing human life?"

If your motivations are good, great! If you are not like me and you can watch boxing and UFC for other purposes aside from wishing to see the big knockout punch, then great! But if it is ever your intention to watch such a display simply to find enjoyment in the damaging or taking of life, then shame on you! AND me.

Your thoughts?
Am I way off base here?

A Hesitant Review of Two Graduate Schools, Part II

I left Asbury Theological Seminary around 3:30 PM and headed for Duke Divinity School. After an 8.5 hour drive, and night at the Millennium Hotel I began my day at Duke. Similar to my first post (on Asbury) I will compare what I "heard" about Duke prior to coming, to what I experienced while I was there.

1. I heard that Duke Divinity was politically very liberal (which is a bad thing?).

I am unsure exactly how to characterize Duke in this regard. I suppose I would say that it is neither liberal nor conservative. I found Duke to be a place of dialogue between people of all political orientations. I find rather funny that many of my pastors see Duke through this light. Why did we ever start evaluating religious institution through the lens of politics; as if the political leanings of a seminary or divinity school were more important than its Christ-centeredness? I suspect this began with the rise of the "religious-right" (oh the far-reaching claws of the dispensationalists).

2. I heard that Duke Divinity possessed an all-star line up of faculty.

Wow they sure do! One does not have to visit to find this out, these men and women are some of the absolute best in the world. What I had gathered through reading many articles and books (by Hauerwas, Hays, and others) was confirmed by students. I also had the opportunity to sit in on a class on Christology with Prof. J. Kameron Carter (whom I had never heard of). It was a fantastic experience. He was a master teacher and communicator, the class was excited to be there rattling off question after question; I enjoyed every minute of it. I found the class to be right at the intellectual level that it should be: while it connected to my undergraduate courses in theology, it was wholly new material (and quite a different approach). Thus, I had just enough background and comprehension to be able to follow along.

3. I heard that Duke had a gorgeous campus.

Again, this turned out to be quite accurate. From the many green spaces (Duke Gardens, good grief!) and the incredible architecture (Duke Chapel), it seemed to be a place designed to provide a retreat for students in the midst of the academic rigor which occurs. Studying there seemed like it would be an enjoyable experience.

4. I heard that Duke Divinity was a godless institution.

Maybe this was the case in the 1970s, but it is not anymore. I found the spiritual side of Duke Divinity to be equal to its academic excellence. Everyone (without exception) seemed to be focused on serving the Church. Duke, I was told many times was about training pastors, not academics. This is also evidenced by their awesome Field Placement program.

God seemed to be a part of everything they did; from the class I sat in on, to the dozens of prayers offered during the visit day, and constant encouragement and honesty displayed by the students I encountered there.

5. I heard that Duke Divinity's students were not very community oriented.

With no student housing for graduate students community becomes challenging to create. But as far as I could tell Duke has risen to the challenge. During a lunch break I had the opportunity to eat with a first-year student there (Matt) and asked him question after question on this subject. It became very clear that the divinity students were a tight-knit group. This is helped by required Spiritual Formation Groups for all first-year students. Every student I talk to loved these groups and found them to be absolutely essential to building community.

Conclusion
Obviously I found to Duke to be an excellent place to pursue my graduate degree. My visit to Duke debunked many of the negative remarks I had heard from many people in my life. Duke is my top choice now, I just hope I can get in!

Why I Love Jurgen Moltmann...

because he wrote The Crucified God. Here are my thoughts on the book (in brief).

The Crucified God, by Jurgen Moltmann, is a brilliant exposition of the significance of the cross of Christ to theology and Christian life. Moltmann contends that the cross of Christ is, in fact, the starting point for all Christian theology. If one does not have an understanding of it, then one will not be able to grasp anything of significance relating to the character of God or the Christian life. While Moltmann holds that the resurrection is the foundation of Christianity, he quickly explains that without the crucifixion there is no resurrection

The irony of this truth is that the crucifixion of Christ (i.e. God) is "a contradiction of everything men have ever conceived, desired and sought to be assured of by the term 'God'" (37). For God to suffer, seems absurd to many; but this is where Moltmann begins. He suggests that because God is love, it is then necessary the He be vulnerable to suffering. With this understanding of love, one view of God's love is transformed. No longer does God love creation transcendentally; no longer is His love easy and without consequence for Him. Understanding God's love this way ends any view that God's love is cheap for Him to give. Thus, the true message of hope to the world is not displayed by God's power and glory, but rather through His helplessness and suffering on the cross!

Moltmann, with this thesis in mind, then dives head first into an intensive study of Christology. He tells us that Christ's death is insufficient and only provides partial understanding if it is taken abstractly and historically. Christ's death must be interpreted in light of His resurrection. It is only here that one can grasp the uniqueness of Jesus' message amongst His Jewish and Roman opponents. So, Moltmann begins by asking, 'Why was Jesus killed?' His answer is three fold. First, Jesus' death is demanded because He is a blasphemer. In the eyes of the Sanhedrin He has committed the blasphemy of "self-deification" (129). Second, He is executed as a rebel. Moltmann points out that crucifixion was not a blasphemers punishment (stoning was for blasphemers); it was a punishment for insurrectionists. Jesus, in the eyes of the Romans, had rebelled against their social and political order. Third, Jesus died in abandonment by His Father. Moltmann heavily emphasizes Jesus' cry of forsakenness on the cross; he even goes as far to say that "all Christian theology and all Christian life is basically an answer to the question which Jesus asked as He died" (4). Moltmann then asks this question, "In his conflict with the law it was possible to speak of a 'misunderstanding' on the part of the Jews. In the political conflict of His crucifixion as a rebel it is customary to speak of a 'misunderstanding' on the part of the Romans. But is it possible to speak of a 'misunderstanding' in the theological context of His abandonment by God?" (152) In reply, He concludes that Easter faith must acknowledge the theological trial between God and God!

According to Moltmann, "the material principle of the Trinity is the cross of Christ" (241), the Trinity is not governing body residing in heaven. Rather, it is an eschatological process open for humanity. And when this process is completed, the process that Jesus began on the cross, so too will the Trinitarian history and world history be completed. This allows Moltmann to declare that the purpose of the Bible is to bring an "eschatological awareness" in to the world (99).

However, to rest with these conclusions would not be theology for Moltmann. Theology in his eyes is "the union of intellectual reflection and spiritual experience" (59). What implications does the above argument have to the lives of Christians today? Moltmann would say that the suffering love of the triune God is the basis of the power provided to believers interact with this world with a love "which can no longer be indifferent, but seeks out is opposite, what is ugly and unworthy of love, in order to love it" (39-40). It is the basis for Christian hope and perseverance. And it is the basis for Christian victory over the old self. All this made possible because God chose, in his freedom to love and so suffer, for that which was entirely unworthy of such a love.

Moltmann concludes by reverting back to a statement made earlier in his book that without the theology of the crucified God there is no theology of liberation. In his view the crucified God liberates humanity in five ways. Economically, we are liberated from poverty. Politically, we are liberated from force. Culturally, we are liberated from alienation. Environmentally, we are liberated from ecological crisis. And finally, we are liberated from meaningless existence and our intrinsic purpose is restored.

Moltmann's aim to provide establish the theological basis for Christian faith and practice in the midst of suffering especially, is successful. His restatement of Trinitarian doctrine in attempt to show its immense relevance to the human situation is also successful. His reader's are left challenged and with a lot to think about with regards to love and its implication of suffering. In my estimation, it is highly important for American Christians (such as ourselves) who flee all discomfort, pain, and misery to explore this issue much further, or we may forfeit our ability to love as God does.

Moltmann, Jurgen. The Crucified God. New York: Harper & Row Publishers, 1974.

A Hesitant Review of Two Graduate Schools, Part I

Over my spring break I had the opportunity to visit two graduate schools with my father. After some coercion I now write on each experience. I honestly am unsure of how helpful my "analysis". This first post will only address the first school that I visited, Asbury Theological Seminary. My second post will be my review of Duke Divinity School.

As the title indicates, I write this with some hesitancy. Not because I lack an opinion (indeed, I have very strong ones); but because I respect both institutions and do not feel extremely qualified to make judgments. Thus, I am inclined to make some disclaimers:

1. My knowledge is very limited - I was in only on each campus for ONE day. This is important for anyone who may be reading this to understand. The only aspect of each school that I can truly have an informed opinion on is how well they present themselves to prospective students on visit days. Thus, it is to be understood that anything hereafter is not a thorough investigation of either school, but simply some superficial reflections. I may liken my experience with each school to a blind date (note: I have never actually been on a blind date...or more than a handful of dates for that matter). It is a first impression, which is important, but by nature not exhaustive or conclusive about who girl (seminary) truly is.

2. I respect both schools very much - I want to be very clear that ultimately, though I do have strong preference, I would probably relatively content studying at either school (the fact is I really like and value what I am studying and an opportunity to do more anywhere is very exciting to me). Furthermore, with regards to Asbury I have a deep respect for their excellence in training men and women for ministry because of my interaction with so many of their graduates (nearly all of my professors at IWU attended there at some point). These men are a testament to God's mighty work through Asbury Theological Seminary!

Moving on... Allow me to list six presuppositions I had about Asbury prior to my visit, and then comment on each with regards to my actual experience on my visit day.

1. I expected Asbury's greatest strength to be its spiritual vibrancy. From those who had attended there in the past this is what I heard.

This was sadly a source of disappointment for me. Few (like one) people there seemed genuinely excited. Students did not smile, rarely showed interest in answering questions. God seemed to be a subject and not a person. I admit that I have few examples to support this (it is somewhat of an intangible thing), but it was the general feeling I got as I went about my day.

2. I understood Asbury, on an academic level, to be very strong in languages and in Old Testament. Their New Testament was also understood by me to be excellent, and that while there was room for improvement in their department of theology it was also decent.

Time permitted that I was only able to sit in on one class (a theology course). Thus, I cannot verify to any degree what an Old or New Testament class might be like. To be blunt, the class was boring and very basic. Being basic is not a bad thing, everyone needs to start studying theology on a basic level. But in my case, as one who has had five theology classes (and counting) in my undergraduate, it offered no new insights or information.

3. I expected Wilmore to be very small.

It was.

4. I expected the students there to be passionate about what they were learning, and highly motivated.

The handful of students I was able to observe in and outside the classroom, with one or two exceptions, did not display this. My strongest evidence was an interaction I eavesdropped on while waiting for class to start (our group of visitors arrived about 10 minutes early to class).

It was between two men and one women, and without getting into too much detail the conversation went something like this:

"Did you read the assignment?"

"No, I never do."

"Yea, I didn't either."

"Have you started your paper?"

"No, I haven't even picked a topic yet, hahaha. When is that due anyways."

"Who knows, I think like Friday. It is so dumb; I just don't need to know this stuff. I will probably just pull out one of my old papers and modify it a little bit." --DIRECT QUOTE

The conversation went on, as others chimed in. NO ONE seemed to be interested in the material or motivated to do their best. That is very concerning to me. I have been in college long enough to realize that a motivated group of peers in essential for one's own academic success, at least in my case without my excellent peers here at IWU my education would be lacking.

5. I expected the dorms to be simple, but to possess a strong community.

The dorms were simple (which not a concern for me), they had the basics (bed, chair, desk, internet access, bathroom). But community was, as best as I could tell non-existent. I was able to talk to an IWU grad that is an RA in one of the male dorms on campus, and asked him quite a few questions about the community. His responses were slow, and he typically mentioned one-time events or things that "they use to do" or did "once."

6. Chapel would be awesome.

Chapel was excellent - it was the highlight of my day. The speaker was insightful and challenging, the worship was fantastic, it was a Holy Spirit-led time.

As one can gather, I was not overall very disappointed with my experience at Asbury. And I can say confidently that there was at least one other disappointed visitor that day: my dad. At the start of the day I told my dad that I did not want to discuss our thoughts on the school until we hit the road for Duke. I was hoping to get two independent and honest evaluations (avoid groupthink). So, as we headed out of Wilmore I asked my dad what he thought. His response was startling to me. It should be known that my dad is a fairly reserved guy that is careful about sharing his opinions. He said, "Is that what seminaries are supposed to be like?"

Conclusion
Prior to my visit I would have listed it as my top choice. This is no longer the case. At the very least Asbury, in my opinion, desperately needs to improve their visitations days. I am open to the idea that I may have just had an isolated and uniquely disappointing experience. But as an institution trying to attract students to study there, one cannot afford to have too many "bad visitation days."

NOTE: There are obviously many more factors one should take into consideration when deciding upon a graduate school, the above is only a sampling.

Theory vs. Experience

I am regularly told by people in full-time ministry that once I leave the safety net of Academia I will abandon theory when experience begins to weigh in on certain aspects of ministry. Simply put they suggest, in a rather evasive manner, that experience trumps theory. Such issues include a broad range from time management and the duties of a pastor, to the nature of God and the state of man.

Allow me to sound a bit arrogant (and ridiculous) as I respond to these people by saying, "You may have been in ministry for many years, but you do not have any idea what you are talking about." I imagine now that most of my readership thinks me to be a pompous, know-it-all, hotshot, punk kid (if they didn't already). But permit me to engage your angry mind for a moment. And discuss this question: Should experience really trump theory?

Recently, I read an article in my January 23rd edition of Newsweek. It was entitled: I Want Constantine's Murderer to Die. The subtitle reads: "I'd always been against the death penalty, but that all changed when a brutal crime hit close to home." It chronicled the journey of its author (Olga Polites) from an ardent fighter against capital punishment to a "vehement" advocate of it. Polites had always been an outspoken critic of the death penalty until a close family member (Constantine) was "tied up with an electrical cord, stabbed 41 times and shot three times in the head." In the aftermath of this tragedy and the subsequent trial of the perpetrators, Polites changes her view of capital punishment. Hear me clearly, I am not making light of this woman's (and her family's) grief; what I am saying is that Polites has made a mistake. Not because she believes in the death penalty now (honestly, I see a strong biblical case for both sides of the debate, and have difficulty firmly holding to one view), but because she has allowed experience to trump her theory. She puts it this way,

"Before this happened, I likely would have argued that this young defendant had extenuating circumstances beyond his control. But not anymore. Maybe it's because my daughter is almost the same age as Constantine was when he was killed, or maybe it's because the reality of experience trumps theoretical beliefs. Whatever the reason, when I looked at the young man sitting at the defense table, I didn’t see a victim. All I saw was the man who took my family member's life."

She goes on to say,

"But the truth is that personal involvement with the horrible crime of murder renders the academic arguments for or against capital punishment meaningless. It was easy to have moral objections to an issue that didn't affect me directly."

It is because emotions are such a powerful event in our lives that our court systems do not permit judges to oversee the proceedings of a case in which they have personal involvement. Our judicial system understands that it should not alter is theories on a whim, because of personal experience.

This, I believe, is the same accusation thrown at me by my full-time ministry friend(s). They are suggesting that the only reason I feel a certain way about particular ministerial issues is because those issues do not "affect me directly." They are convinced that I will change (wise up, perhaps) when I arrive in realm of 'real life.' I find it unlikely that such a transformation (and it would be a radical one) will happen. If theory does not trump experience, then we are left with an ecclesiastical praxis defined by relativism (nihilism?). If the sacraments are not dually administered because of inconvenience, then we deny them as a means of grace. If pastors give up the discipline of exegesis in sermon preparation simply because they "don't have the time", then God help us; for the laity will forever be imprisoned in the attractive, yet dangerous place of simple Christianity (I think the biblical authors refer to this as milk - baby food).

For those of you who resolutely still believe that I am wrong about this (theory over experience) do not worry about me too much. For under your understanding (experience over theory) in 3 or 4 years I will 'wise up' and reject all this as merely theoretical anywaysJ.

*** Newsweek (Volume CXLVII, No. 4). New York, NY: Newsweek, Inc., 2006.

Awe or Ignorance?

I frequently disagree with people. Typically I remain silent, because I determine that their misunderstanding of a particular subject is ultimately superfluous to the important things in life. Sometimes, however, my disagreement manifests itself in concern which, in its active form, causes me to speak out.

I sat in Apocalyptic Literature class today and I disagreed, and I was concerned. The theory posited (in its simplest terms) by several members of my class went something like this: Awe and understanding must stand in tension; indeed, they have an inverse relationship. Meaning that the more you understand God, the less you are in awe or him.

Such a statement saddened. These people were a microcosm of what Christianity has become for many of the evangelical circles that I observe (and are a part of) today. It is a culture of naïveté, and dare I say, 'stupid' faith. This acceptance of an ignorant clergy (and even more ignorant laity) must end! Historically, two approaches have been articulated when it comes to interaction with theology:

1. Understanding seeking faith
2. Faith seeking understanding

The first is the more irreverent way. It is a noble exercise of mind to find Truth. It is (though not exclusively) the way in which the nonbeliever interacts with theology. It begins with the particulars in an attempt to assemble the whole (see my blog, "The Great Conversation"). The danger of this view is that when paradox, confusion, or mystery arises, unbelief is favored. The second is just the opposite (and I would argue is the view that should be operated under by Christians). It begins with the whole and moves to the particulars. The beauty of this view is that when paradox, confusion, or mystery arises, belief is always left untouched and untainted. Both approaches are legitimate models. Sadly, many Christians today do not use either model. These believers neglect the pursuit altogether by operating under an approach I call 'stupid' faith (as mentioned above). It is a model that rejects the discipline of study. It is a lazy man's approach.

The fact is TRUE awe of God forces the pursuit of understanding; it is NOT held in tension with it as my peers suggested. Awe of God is a symptom of love for God. And so I ask you, "How can we love what we do not know?" And "Is it not true that the more you know a person the more you love them?" The people we love, we know. And the people we love the most we know the most! Is it not true that those who are most fascinated, most in awe of the stars are astronomers (whether amateur or professional)? Is it not true that those who are most fascinated and interested in cultures, customs, and tribes are anthropologists? Awe forces the pursuit of understanding, and understanding enhances and increases awe.

William Barclay, articulates best the model I am arguing Christians to take:

"There are too many who are devout, but not students. They will not accept the discipline of study and of learning, and they even look with suspicion upon the further knowledge which study brings to men. There are equally too many who are students, but not devout. They are interested too much in intellectual knowledge, and too little in the life of prayer and in the life of service of their fellow men. A man would do well to aim at being not only a student, and not only devout, but at being a devout student. "

F.Y.I.

Pat Robertson is a complete idiot (okay, maybe not a complete idiot, afterall, he does have a law degree from Yale). You would think that the man would keep quiet for a while (or for good) after his August 2005 suggestion (which he later apologized for) that U.S. Special Forces assassinate Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. But he didn't; he had to go and open his mouth again.

Let me re-phrase...He is a theological idiot (especially with regards to the issue of divine retribution).