Peace, Light, and Joy in Advent

Peace. Light. Joy. The mercy of God.

These are ideas that we associate with the Advent season. Why is it that we focus on these particular ideas when we ponder the birth of Jesus? Partly, it is because that is what Christians have been doing since the earliest Christian writings.

Luke’s Gospel gives us a lot of our information about the birth of Jesus. It also includes four songs sung by different individuals around the time of his birth. These songs collectively point us to ponder these meaningful words: peace, light, and joy. And to see these all as part of the limitless mercy of God.

For our reflection this morning, I’ll just read a few excerpts from each of the four songs.

The angels announced PEACE:

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,

    and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” (Luke 2:14)

Simeon experienced PEACE and saw the LIGHT:

“Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,

    according to your word;

for my eyes have seen your salvation,

     which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,

a light for revelation to the Gentiles

    and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32)

Mary knew JOY in response to God’s MERCY:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:46-47)

“His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation” (Luke 1:50)

“He has . . . lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things, . . .
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy.” (Luke 1:52-54)

Zechariah put this all together:

“By the tender mercy of our God,
    the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
    to guide our feet into the way of peace.” (Luke 2:78-79)

God of Mercy: We ask today for the joy exhibited by Mary, the peace declared by the angels, the light foretold by Zechariah, all of which point us to the tender mercy of our God. Amen.

A Fourth Century Advent Hymn

On this day St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan in the fourth century, is remembered. One of thirty-six “Doctors of the Church,” among his significant contributions to the Christian faith (including being the teacher of St. Augustine) is a rich collection of hymns, some of which continue to be sung to this day. A few years ago I shared a Christmas hymn of Ambrose. Today I would like to share an Advent hymn, “O Splendor of God's glory bright.”

Since I posted on hymns in the Gospel of Luke last week, it is interesting to notice the way that some themes of the Lukan hymns are taken up in Ambrose’s hymn. Ambrose’s hymn has its primary focus on the coming of Jesus as bringing light and illumination to humanity. Jesus is “Light of light,” “true Day,” and “very Sun of heaven’s love.” And in the final stanza he ends with the notion of a new dawn arising, with Jesus as “our perfect Morn.” These ideas echo the song of Simeon with his emphasis on the coming of Jesus as “a light for revelation” (Luke 2:32). Zechariah as well strikes these notes: “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death” (Luke 1:78,79). One striking difference from Luke’s hymns, and from the hymns embedded in the New Testament, is the very personal dimension that can be seen in stanzas 2, 3, 4, and 5. These verses shift the focus to the congregation itself in asking for divine assistance to live lives that are reflective of those who are in the light and no longer in darkness. This more personal dimension is a trend that can be seen in the hymnody that developed in the second century and beyond. To me, such development in successive generations illustrates one way that Christians of later eras built on the earlier traditions and adapted them to the needs of their day.

1 O Splendor of God's glory bright,
from Light eternal bringing light,
O Light of light, light's living Spring,
true Day, all days illumining. 

2 Come, very Sun of heaven's love,
in lasting radiance from above,
and pour the Holy Spirit's ray
on all we think or do today. 

3 And now to Thee our pray'r ascend,
O Father, glorious without end;
we plead with sovereign grace for pow'r
to conquer in temptation's hour. 

4 Confirm our will to do the right,
and keep our hearts from envy's blight;
let faith her eager fires renew,
and hate the false, and love the true. 

5 O joyful be the passing day
with thoughts as pure as morning's ray,
with faith like noontide shining bright
our souls unshadowed by the night. 

6 Dawn's glory gilds the earth and skies,
let Him, our perfect Morn, arise,
the Word in God the Father one,
the Father imaged in the Son.

Source: Hymnary.org

While looking for this hymn, I was pleased to discover a contemporary setting of this hymn by Zac Hicks. I found it to be a very meditative piece that reflects the solemnity of the words but also the celebratory joy of being invited to live in the light.

Advent and the Hymns of Luke’s Gospel

The four songs embedded within the first two chapters of the Gospel of Luke are a rich resource for reflecting on the advent of Jesus. Individually, they are meaningful and moving prayers and exclamations of praise in response to the good news about the arrival of the long-awaited messiah. Collectively, they reinforce and complement one another creating a tapestry of praise in celebration of the birth of the savior. The season of Advent is a perfect time to reflect on these beautiful passages.

For those unfamiliar with these passages, they are commonly referred to by their Latin names: the Magnificat (1:46–55) is the song of Mary; the Benedictus (1:68–79) is the song of Zechariah; the Gloria in excelsis (2:14) is the song of the angels; and the Nunc Dimittis (2:29–32) is the song of Simeon. Reading them as the responses of praise to the announcement and arrival of the promised savior is particularly instructive.

Themes of these songs include such things as the mercy of God, which is mentioned twice in the Magnificat and twice in the Benedictus; though the term is not explicitly used in the other two songs, they clearly reflect responses to God’s favor. The notion of reversals where the proud are brought low and the humble are raised up, or those in darkness are enlightened, are prominent in the Magnificat and Benedictus. The fulfillment of God’s promises to his people to deliver them is a theme of the Magnificat, Benedictus, and Nunc Dimittis. The arrival of light, salvation, forgiveness, and guidance into the way of peace are major themes of the Benedictus. The glorifying of God and the announcement of peace and God’s favor are themes of the Gloria in excelsis. Peace, light, salvation, and glory are themes of the Nunc Dimittis, along with the notion of the Gentiles as recipients of God’s enlightening and saving work through the savior. Taken together there is a very interesting move from the individual blessing of Mary, to the fulfillment of God’s promises of deliverance to God’s people, to the praise of the angels, to the enlightening work of the savior extending to all of humanity. In this way the progression of thematic praise to God in Luke’s birth narrative aligns with the overall thrust of Luke’s two-part masterpiece of Gospel and Acts. Both Luke’s Gospel and Acts end with echoes of this notion of the inclusion of the Gentiles in the people of God (Luke 24:47; Acts 28:28).

It is instructive to compare the contents and emphases of these four songs with the christological hymns embedded within other writings of the New Testament (e.g., Phil 2:5-11; Col 1:15-20). If we were to do so, we might immediately be struck by a few significant differences. Luke’s songs do not have a primary focus on Jesus, as much as the saving work of God, and they do not mention some important themes of the other NT hymns. Missing from Luke’s hymns are references to such concepts as the preexistence of Jesus, the incarnation of Jesus, the death of Jesus, the resurrection of Jesus, and the ascension of Jesus. The Magnificat does not even mention Jesus! While this sounds like a lot of significant christological content that is absent from these songs, the context of these songs is important to consider. These are included at the beginning of Luke’s narrative, a narrative which itself will unfold the significance of Jesus, detailing the death on the cross and the resurrection and ascension. For the author of the gospel, it was not necessary to spell out all of these specific christological ideas in each song or even in the opening chapters. Instead, the songs of the infancy narrative set the stage for what will follow. Here is how I’ve explained it: “Rather than recount the salient contents of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, these four psalms portray the responses of a range of devout characters to the news that the time of redemption has begun.” (New Testament Christological Hymns, 207)

In this regard I find the work of Kindalee De Long at Pepperdine University especially instructive. She explains how the narrative of Luke unfolds in such a way that these songs demonstrate the responses of joy that would be expected in the arrival of the promised new age of divine deliverance. This idea can be found throughout the prophetic writings including Joel 2:26-27, Zephaniah 3:14-15, Zechariah 9:9-10, and Isaiah 66:7-11. So it is not just in the words of the songs that the meaning is found, but in the actual act of joyous singing in response to the news of the arrival of the savior.

Also, in spite of the differences from the other early hymns, there are significant shared themes:

“In common with the christological hymns, however, is an emphasis on the birth of Christ as signaling the initiation of the new age in which God fulfills the expectations of the prophets. Specific touch points with the early Christian hymns are the idea that Christ brings about peace, that his advent enlightens humanity, and that Gentiles and Jews alike are included as beneficiaries of God’s actions in Christ. One final point of connection is the idea that God’s redemptive activities in and through Christ result in glory to God.” (New Testament Christological Hymns, 207-208)

All of those elements of Luke's hymns are the central themes of the christological hymns found throughout the New Testament.

For Luke as an author it seems that he not only “tells” the reader about the messiah but also “shows” the reader that the birth of Jesus inaugurates a new age. And for Luke, the scripturesque language of the hymns does not simply “tell” but also “shows” that this new work of God is the work that the Jewish scriptures and prophets had foretold. Like the other hymns in the New Testament, these passages show a rich and deep engagement with the Jewish Scriptures. Apart from a careful reading of the scriptural grounding of these hymns in their early Jewish context, it is difficult to appreciate the full meaning of these passages.

Not only Luke the author but the characters in the narrative themselves invite us to understand that this was good news for “all the people.” And as Zechariah exclaimed it was “by the tender mercy of our God” that the dawn from on high was breaking upon them. Further, these characters model an appropriate response to the divine visitation: joyous praise to God.

In our world that is still longing for peace, the praises of Mary, Zechariah, the angels, and Simeon, are as timely as they were in the first-century context. And they can still enlighten us today as we contemplate with them the mystery of God’s mercy revealed in the advent of Jesus.

Reflecting on Anti-Judaism in 2018

I was invited by the English and Theatre Department in my college to give a book talk this past week. As I was preparing the talk I was focusing on the great extent to which the New Testament christological hymns reflect a deep engagement with Jewish traditions, especially the Wisdom tradition and the prophetic promises of renewal of God’s people in the new age. I began to realize that I could not speak about the Jewish dimensions of these early hymns without also speaking to the rise of anti-Semitism that has been forcibly brought into our consciousness as a nation, and especially here in Pittsburgh. Below are some of the ways I have reflected on this reality and some of what I included in my talk this week:

In my writing and speaking to date, I generally gloss over the complicated relationship that developed between Christians and Jews in the first century and beyond. I had kind of assumed that, as people of good will in the 21^st century, “we” were beyond anti-Semitism and one did not need to write or speak directly against. Fair-minded and careful reading of ancient Jewish and early Christian writings demonstrates a sensitivity and respect that we all, whether scholars or lay people, should bring to the study of religious texts. But the horrific shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue, less than 3 miles from this location, means that there is still work to do to promote a responsible understanding of the relationship of Christianity and Judaism in antiquity. On top of that, the FBI released a report yesterday detailing a 37% increase in hate crimes against Jews over the last 3 years; hate crimes against Jews were already the highest proportion of religious hate crimes. 

All of this is very disturbing, and in our climate of increasing hate and animosity, people of faith must remind ourselves of the sacredness of all creation—meaning that every person, regardless of background, race, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity—everyone we encounter is, according to Jesus, our neighbor, our brother, our sister, part of our human family. Those of us who believe that need to affirm it; and beyond affirming it, we now must also speak up where we can about these issues. 

Within our view of the human family as people created by God there is no room for racism or anti-Semitism. However, it is a sad fact that in history Christian biblical interpretation has at times played a part in devaluing Judaism. Anti-Judaism, as it is called, is unfortunately common in biblical interpretation, when Christians create a caricature of early Jewish belief and practice, and use that as a negative foil against which to present Jesus as bringing something new and better. It is often unintentional, but even something as simple as characterizing the Christian Old Testament (supposedly representing Judaism) as promoting law, wrath, and judgment—while claiming that the New Testament is a message of love, grace, and forgiveness—is in reality an expression of anti-Judaism. There are three serious problems about such portrayals of early Judaism. First, such over-simplifications are just flat out wrong: the Jewish Scriptures, rightly understood, are full of mercy, forgiveness, and grace; as is Judaism. Christians did not invent those concepts; they are Jewish through and through, as was Jesus. Second, those erroneous views of early Judaism have been used throughout history to justify abuse and mistreatment of Jews. Third, such simplistic views actually implicitly undermine the very teaching of the Scriptures which Christians claim to promote. We must stand against anti-Judaism and caricatures of people of faiths other than our own. 

Yes, we must also acknowledge that Christianity and Judaism are two very different religious traditions. But they share a great deal in common. At the very least, when reading the New Testament, Christians are obligated to be careful to understand the nature of the conflicts within first-century Judaism. It was not simply Jesus the loving Christian against the legalistic, mean-spirited Jews. It is rather Jesus the Jewish teacher engaging with his fellow Jews, wrestling with how to understand the promises of God for their day, and how best to live within the new age that God was initiating. 

The New Testament christological hymns [the subject of my book talk] show us that the earliest followers of Jesus saw Jesus as fully in line with the Jewish expectations that God would fulfill the ancient promises and redeem humanity. God was fulfilling God’s promises, and doing so through Jesus. Whether one accepts that Jesus was God’s agent in fulfilling these promises is, of course, the crux of the matter for Christian belief. But the early hymns show us that Jews and Christians alike can acknowledge the shared vision of renewed humanity that derives from the first century Jewish context and the shared biblical tradition. 

Further, like other Jewish resistance poetry, the New Testament hymns take aim not at Jewish belief. Instead, they take aim at the Roman emperor who had been elevated to divine status that belonged only to the one true God.

With those acknowledgements and cautions in view, I then concluded my talk pointing out the ways in which the New Testament christological hymns engage deeply with Jewish ideas, while also countering Roman imperial claims.

There are many good resources that address issues of anti-Judaism in Christian biblical interpretation, and I hope to engage further with those in future posts. Amy-Jill Levine’s work is a great starting point, both her books and her more popular writing. For now, I wanted to at least share these thoughts on the blog as I continue to reflect on the responses we are obligated to make to these disturbing rise of hate in our days.

The Unique Contributions of Luke's Gospel

Today is the feast day of St. Luke and thus a fitting day to recognize some of the remarkable contributions of Luke’s Gospel to our understanding of Jesus and his message.

First, as is well known, the Gospel of Luke has a clear emphasis on the good news being for the poor, the sick, and those on the margins of society: the gospel is “good news” for all people, not just those who outwardly appear to be favored by God. (See Luke 4:16-21)

Second, Luke alone includes some of the best known parables of Jesus. Without Luke we would not know of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) or the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32). The parable of the Good Samaritan is itself a powerful illustration of mercy and compassion for those in need, and a reminder that all people are our neighbors. It thus ties in directly with the first point above about Luke’s emphasis on the good news being for all people.

Third, Luke preserves some very early songs from the first century. These are particularly to be found in the birth narrative. In the first two chapters of the Gospel of Luke, four different characters respond to news of God’s salvation with joyful song that sounds very much like the psalmody of the Jewish Scriptures and the words of the prophets. Like characters in biblical narratives and other Jewish texts, they respond to good news with a psalm of praise. These four psalms are commonly referred to by their Latin names. Mary’s song is the Magnificat (1:46–55), Zechariah’s is the Benedictus (1:68–79), the angels’ song of praise is the Gloria in excelsis (2:14), and Simeon’s is the Nunc Dimittis (2:29–32). By quoting these four songs or parts of songs, Luke has preserved for us a rich treasure and gives us a glimpse into some of the earliest ways in which the advent of Jesus was celebrated through song and poetry in the early church.

For our vision of Jesus and the events and significance of his life, we owe much to Luke and his careful historical and literary work. We also can be thankful today that he had an ear for songs and hymns, and that he chose to include them in his Gospel for the benefit of all of his readers.

For more on Luke, see this reflection from the FaithND website.

For more specifically on the hymns in Luke's Gospel, see chapter six of my latest book.

Book Release Today!

Very excited to announce that today is the official release date of my book. New Testament Christological Hymns: Exploring Texts, Contexts, and Significance is a study of hymns and poetic passages in the New Testament that describe Jesus in exalted language and give us a window into the origins of Christian worship. I received the author copies two weeks ago and am really happy with the final product. IVP Academic did a very impressive job with this book from start to finish. This book represents the findings of my investigations into early Christian hymns over the last fifteen years. Please check it out if you have an interest in the development of early Christian worship and early Christian engagement with Jewish and Greco-Roman culture.

It is available at the IVP Academic site (on sale today) and also on Amazon at my author page.

The Value of a Liberal Arts Education

Two national organizations dedicated to the meaningful delivery of university education issued a joint statement this week about the value of the liberal arts. The statement by these two organizations, the American Association of University Professors (AAUP) and the Association of American Colleges and Universities (AAC&U), is in response to a widespread trend which shows a devaluing of the liberal arts in American society today. The now common caricature and criticism of the liberal arts, particularly the idea of majoring in a liberal arts discipline in the humanities such as philosophy, history, theology, art, or English, is that they are not directly tied to training for a specific career outcome. And as students are steered toward other more clearly career-oriented majors that they can be sure will lead to a specific job, liberal arts enrollments have declined. This has often led to difficult decisions by university administrators to eliminate some liberal arts majors. It has also led to decisions by state legislatures who fund higher education about how to prioritize their limited funding. The result is a cycle that in the end reflects a societal devaluation of liberal arts education.

But, as the AAC&U and AAUP statement points out, it has long been known by employers that liberal arts are great preparation for many careers since, rather than focusing on one narrow set of technical skills (which may become irrelevant) the liberal arts prepare graduates with skills they will use in any career. These skills include the ability to learn quickly and learn on the job, a capacity for lifelong learning. They also include the ability to think deeply and critically, to understand complex problems, to draw on knowledge from a range of disciplines to solve problems, and to be creative in approaching challenges. In addition the liberal arts foster the ability to understand differing perspectives and, more importantly, people who have differing perspectives. The liberal arts promote empathy along with an understanding of culture and how it impacts individuals and groups.

All of those skills are more important in today’s society than they ever have been. Thus, the promotion of the liberal arts can readily be seen as needed for the sake of the public good. This shifts the focus from only the single issue of an individual having the option to choose liberal education to a broader issue: how to promote and foster what is needed for our society to thrive and to overcome its current challenges. Career education and technical training, as inherently valuable as those are, are not sufficient in themselves. A liberal arts education has a strong claim to being equally important for our world today, if not more so.

This week, in addition to being glad to see this joint statement about the liberal arts, I also came across a now classic essay entitled “Only Connect” by William Cronon. This essay, from twenty years ago, described the ten things that liberal arts enables people to do. The last was the phrase “only connect” which suggests the ability to take the many parts of a liberal education and make connections—between ideas, between events, as well as between people. I was surprised to see at the end of Cronon’s essay that he linked the liberal arts to one primary goal: love. A liberal arts education is not something one undertakes only for oneself, although the value to an individual can be great (see the salary surveys of liberal arts majors by mid-and late-career compared to other majors). Instead, the thinking, skills, and values of a liberal arts education provide one the perspective and motivation for service. Cronon wrote: “Liberal education nurtures human freedom in the service of human community, which is to say that in the end it celebrates love.” For Cronon, this is agape love, “the most powerful and generous form of human connection.” One need not look too far to find this notion rooted in the biblical ideals of love of God, the creator of the human community, and love of neighbor.

For those of us committed to lifelong learning, our own as well as that of our students, it is important to remember the value of what we do, both its roots and its outcomes, for individuals and for society. And in the current climate, to be aware of what may ultimately be at stake if liberal arts education continues to be devalued.

New Book on Early Christian Worship

I am pleased to announce that my third book, New Testament Christological Hymns: Exploring Texts, Contexts, and Significance, is being released this summer on Aug 7 by IVP Academic. Click here for the link to the publisher’s page. Focusing on the passages in the New Testament that describe Jesus in a hymnic style, this book touches on early Christian worship, the Greco-Roman and Jewish cultural contexts of the New Testament, and the development of early Christian belief. Comparing these early Christian compositions to other first century expressions of hymnic praise helps provide new perspective on the significance of these fascinating and rich passages. It also gives us a lot to think about for contemporary worshipers of Jesus. Please check out the web site and see what you think.

If you were to ask me for a little more detail about what the book is about, here is what I would say:

This is a book about worship in the New Testament in which I show that praise of Jesus uses some of the same language that was used in praise of the Roman emperor, in part, to emphasize that Jesus was greater than the emperor. This language, which just sounds religious to us (savior, Lord, son of God), actually had very significant political implications. To worship Jesus in this way was to affirm a view of reality that was counter-cultural and anti-imperial. But this worship of Jesus did not arise from nowhere; it draws on a long tradition of Jewish resistance poetry that can be traced back through to some of the oldest poetry of the Hebrew Bible. It also draws on prophetic promises of divine renewal that were still alive in first century Judaism. So in the book I argue that we should seek to understand worship passages in the New Testament in light of their interaction with these larger cultural factors. When we do so we gain new insight into some of the richest passages in the New Testament and also into what the earliest worship of Jesus was about. And, if we take them seriously, there is a challenge for modern Christians in terms of how we engage with our culture and with the prevailing political powers today.

The book is currently available for pre-order at a discount on the IVP Academic site as well as on Amazon, and will ship on Aug 7, 2018.

Not Your Usual Commencement Address

Father Gregory Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, Inc., a non-profit that provides work opportunities to former gang members in Los Angeles, delivered an incredibly challenging address at Carlow University's 2018 commencement ceremony last weekend. He also delivered the homily at the baccalaureate mass earlier that morning and spoke on the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). I can’t do justice to the simple yet profound thoughts that he shared, but I thought I’d highlight a few things he spoke about.

From his years of working with individuals at the margins he had some very rich insights into the parable of the good Samaritan and into the nature of mercy. One particular insight which I had not heard before was one idea that he kept repeating as a theme of his homily: We don’t go to the margins to rescue people; if we do, then it becomes about us. And it is not about us. Instead, we go to the margins because that is where transformation occurs. Father Boyle kept returning to Jeremiah 33:10-11 where Jeremiah says, “In this place of which you say it is a waste, there will be heard again the voice of mirth and the voice of gladness, the voices of those who sing.” In the place of waste and desolation God envisions a transformed community. And we can each be changed by a genuine human encounter with our fellow human beings who are at the margins. He illustrated this with some examples from his ministry. And finally, he suggested that the good Samaritan in the parable was changed through his encounter with the victim on the road. Yes, he took action that did result in the wounded victim being changed for the better; but that action arose from an encounter in which the Samaritan was changed as he encountered the wounded victim and was moved with compassion. The good Samaritan did not set out on his journey hoping to reach someone or change someone. But as he encountered a fellow human being in need, his own plans and priorities changed. This idea connects really closely with what I shared in my last blog post about the concept of theology as interruption.

In some of his writings, Father Boyle has put it this way: “We do not rescue anyone at the margins. But go figure, if we stand at the margins, we are all rescued. No mistake about it.” In his commencement address he raised a couple of other related points. Specifically, the kinship of all people; the “exquisite mutuality” and inter-connectedness of all people. In addition, he pointed out that when those of us in privileged positions choose to go the margins and be present at the margins, it actually erases the margins. He pointed out that “God’s own dream for us, that we be one, just happens to be our own deepest longing for ourselves.” He added that, related to Jeremiah’s vision of social transformation, “the widow orphan and stranger will be your trustworthy guides since they know what it is to be cutoff.” Rather than go simply to rescue those at the margins, we can learn from those at the margins.

His final challenge to the graduates was to “Go forth to create a community of kinship such that God might recognize it” and to make those voices, the voices of the marginalized, heard. Though he made his point with powerful examples of gang members he had worked with, his message was simple: Treat all people like human beings. Honor the dignity of each person we encounter.

That is something we all can do. And in our current contentious and potentially dehumanizing cultural context, this is something we must do.

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For more on Father Gregory Boyle, see his biography here.

Carlow University posted the commencement ceremony and you can watch Father Boyle’s address by clicking here and selecting “on demand” and then “commencement.” His talk begins at about the 1-hour mark immediately after his receiving anhonorary doctorate and continues to the 1-hour and 13 minute mark.

Finally, Father Gregory gave a similar talk at Notre Dame’s commencement in 2017 where he received the Laetare Award. You can read the transcript or see the video here.

Mercy in a Culture of Indifference

“Living Mercy in an Age of Indifference” was the subject of a talk this week by Dr. Johann Vento who is a Professor of Religious Studies and Theology at Georgian Court University. This very timely presentation was given at Carlow’s “Common Hour”—a space and time set aside on the first Tuesday of each month for faculty and staff to come together to have dialogue and discussion about a topic of importance to the community. Here are a few points that I noted that really resonated with me.

Dr. Vento began with a review of mercy in the Psalms, showing that mercy is a theme that infuses the prayers and praises of the people of God. She pointed to one of my favorites, Ps 103: “The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love” (Psalm 103:8). Dr. Vento pointed out that the biblical theme of mercy, and mercy in the Psalms in particular, was a thread that runs through the writings of Pope Francis. His 2015 “The Face of Mercy” announced 2016 as the year of mercy, building on this scriptural foundation. When you note that the Psalms are the most cited book in the NT, it is not surprising that mercy themes infuse the New Testament as well.

As Dr. Vento moved on to an open discussion with the group about mercy in our world today, a few themes in our own culture were noted. One is the high level of distress in our culture, and particularly among students; there is a palpable hunger and thirst for mercy. Second, our contemporary culture actually teaches us not to be merciful, with its individualistic and judgmental tendencies. In other words, “we” tend to think we are doing well because of our effort and hard work; “they” are in need because of their own faults and failures. Third, she pointed to a “closed-off and privatized form of Christianity” which is poorly equipped to be present to suffering. The effect of these dynamics, intended or not, is that we have a tendency to isolate and insulate ourselves from the suffering of others. The extreme customization of our own personalized “news feeds” in social media potentially only serves to exacerbate this insulation from the suffering of others who are not like us.

Dr. Vento then turned to several theologians who have helped her consider mercy, not just from an individual religious perspective, but in terms of mercy as “a passion to end injustice.” In particular, she drew from the work of Walter Kasper, Johannes Metz, and John Sobrino, theologians who have reflected deeply on the gospel teachings about mercy and their connection to contemporary issues in society.

A few concepts in this part of her presentation were particularly striking. One that resonated with me was Johannes Metz’s notion of “theology as interruption.” In the cultural context described above, theology can serve to jar us and awaken us from a pre-occupation with ourselves and our own comfort and our own successes or small sufferings. A biblical theology of mercy grounded in the mercy of God as seen in the Psalms and the NT requires us to be attentive to the suffering of others, and to be “moved with compassion” as the Samaritan was in the parable of Jesus that is commonly known as “the Good Samaritan” (Luke 10). Notably, Metz did much of his writing and thinking in the wake of the Holocaust as he sought to understand how the Christian church in Nazi Germany not only had no ability to generate a robust, counter-cultural Christian response to the Nazi atrocities, but was actually largely silent about it. As history shows, many Christians were complicit simply by not taking action or speaking up about what was happening to the marginalized in their society when they could have and should have. In response, Metz proposes a theology that emphasizes solidarity with those who suffer, based on the actual reality of the inter-connectedness of all people, including the most vulnerable. To me this is an insightful and compelling application of the teaching of Jesus in Luke 10:25-37.

Finally, Dr. Vento ended up discussing the work of John Sobrino, a Jesuit from Nicaragua who has been on my reading list for some time (but whom I have not yet gotten to!). According to Sobrino, to be truly human is to respond to suffering and to be moved by it. Moved to act. This involves “making someone else’s pain our very own” (Principle of Mercy, p. 11). Again, an embodiment of the compassion and care toward one’s neighbor as seen in the teaching of Jesus.

For me the entire conversation was an embodiment of “theology as interruption.” I have my own priorities, stressors, and daily sufferings, not to mention my to-do list each day. The theology of mercy calls me to be ready and open to look up from my screen, to see human need and be open to be moved. And in that moment of being moved, to act.

“But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds” (Luke 10:33-34)

The Cross in the Earliest Christian Hymns (part 3)

There are three New Testament passages that are thought to be early hymns in honor of Jesus: Philippians 2:6-11, Colossians 1:15-20, and John 1:1-18. In their imagery, depth, and vision of Jesus they are unmatched. In the Philippian hymn and Colossian hymn the cross is prominent, occurring at the center of the hymn in Philippians and at the climactic end of the second stanza in Colossians. Given the importance of the cross for the early Christians, this is not surprising. What is surprising is that when we read John 1:1-18 the cross is not mentioned at all. Why and what does this tell us about the significance of the cross for the believers in John’s community?

First of all, there are probably good reasons that the cross is not mentioned in the John 1:1-18. It was not that the cross was not important to John. These verses function as a prologue to the whole of John’s Gospel. As such, they set out the major themes that will follow and serve to invite the reader to read the rest of the Gospel with the perspective that the prologue outlines. It is not necessary that a prologue should summarize the details of the following narrative. Further, the cross figures prominently in John’s Gospel as a whole. The cross is not specifically mentioned in the prologue since the reader would encounter it soon enough.

Second, in John’s Gospel it is important to note that the cross is not a shameful defeat for Jesus but represents instead the moment of the glorification of Jesus. Immediately after Judas left to betray him, leading to his crucifixion, Jesus said:

"Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him.” (Jn 13:31)

Here he was echoing the language of Isaiah: “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified” (Is 49:3). The whole sequence of events leading up to the cross, beginning with the betrayal by Judas, was the way in which God’s glory was revealed. I sometimes have the tendency to think that God’s glory is revealed in the resurrection of Jesus—and it certainly is. But for John, the entire passion of Jesus was the revelation of God’s glory—not only the resurrection.

Third, though the cross is not mentioned in the prologue, the larger theme of the rejection of Jesus by the world certainly is. The prologue sets up a clear contrast between those who did not receive him and those who did. One stanza reads:

He was in the world,
and the world was made through him,
yet the world did not know him.
He came to his own,
and his own people did not receive him.
But to all who did receive him,
who believed in his name,
he gave the right to become children of God. (Jn 1:10-12)

So John talks not specifically about the cross here, but about the idea that there are those who rejected Jesus. This larger theme of the rejection of Jesus includes the rejection of Jesus by the Jewish leaders and by Pilate, the Roman ruler who had him crucified. Another stanza talks about the darkness trying to extinguish the light of Jesus:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (Jn 1:5)

This is poetic and metaphorical, but the scope of this image is broad enough to include the notion that the cross, the attempt at snuffing out of the life of Jesus by the forces of darkness, was unable to quench the divine light. A third stanza may also refer to the crucifixion since, as we have seen, for John the cross is the “glorification” of Jesus:

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory (Jn 1:14)

The “Word” in John’s poetic prologue, is Jesus. What was this glory that John and his companions saw? For John, the glory of Jesus is not just the miracles, or the teaching, or the resurrection. The glory of Jesus mentioned here includes the cross.

So the prologue invites the reader of John’s Gospel to read the story that follows and to look for the glory of Jesus in each aspect of his life, and especially in the cross. In addition, when one reads about the rejection of Jesus, including the rejection of Jesus by Pilate, the Roman ruler, the reader knows that this is part of the divine pattern. The reader can find his or herself in the story as well, whether as one who rejects Jesus, or one who receives him and sees in the cross a revelation of the glory of God.

As hymns, these three poetic passages in John, Philippians, and Colossians give us a glimpse into some of the ways that the death of Jesus was remembered among the earliest Christians. His death on the cross was a source of divine reversals in Philippians, a source of reconciliation in Colossians, and a revelation of the glory of God in John. And there is much more that these passages have to teach us. In these hymnic passages we gain a glimpse of the mystery of the cross, a mystery that will always exceed our capacity to grasp its ultimate meaning, but a mystery for which we can humbly give thanks to God.

The Cross in the Earliest Christian Hymns (part 2)

Note: This is a follow-up to last week's entry on the cross in the hymn in Philippians 2.

As we progress in this Holy Week to remember the crucifixion of Jesus on Good Friday, another early Christian hymn tells us a little more about what the cross meant to the early Christian worshipers. One of the earliest hymns preserved in the New Testament is found in Colossians 1:15-20. It is probably not quite as early as the Philippian hymn and has a very different feel and style than that hymn. The Colossian hymn was written in a Greek rhetorical style while the Philippian hymn reflects more of a Jewish psalm style. And rather than a chronological narrative with a reversal at the focal point of the cross, the Colossian hymn describes Christ over two stanzas using honorific titles and descriptors:

Stanza 1

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation;

16 for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible,

whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—

all things have been created through him and for him.

17 He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

18 He is the head of the body, the church.

Stanza 2

He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead,

so that he might come to have first place in everything.

19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,

20 and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things,

whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace

through the blood of his cross.

As is fairly clear, the first stanza describes the supremacy of Christ in the realm of creation, while the second describes the supremacy of Christ in redemption. And it is in the work of redemption that the cross is mentioned, at the end of the second stanza. It is “through the blood of his cross” the following two things came about:

• The reconciling of all things to God, and,
• The making of peace.

There is a lot that could be said about those two accomplishments. One thing that is often overlooked is that these two accomplishments—reconciliation and peace making—were two primary claims made about the Roman emperor in the first century. If you recall your world history course, the Pax Romana (the Roman peace) was the term given to the peace that Rome brought about in the Mediterranean world. This was after an extended period of war and strife. Caesar Augustus claimed to have brought peace to the empire and reconciliation between warring factions. Of course, this was a peace brought about through military might and enforced through the subjugation of peoples and the execution of enemies. But it was “peace” nonetheless and something that the emperor claimed as his special accomplishment as a divinely appointed ruler of the world.

And here in this early Christian hymn, these same accomplishments of reconciliation and peace-making are attributed to Jesus. But for him it is not through military might but, as in Philippians, by means of the cross, the brutal symbol of Roman power.

The hymn does not explain how the blood of his cross makes peace. But the basic idea is that because of the cross, the parties that were at odds can be reconciled.

Stepping back to compare Philippians 2 and Colossians 1, it is clear that both hymns mention the cross. And in both cases a fuller appreciation of the Roman historical and cultural context enables us to grasp the significance of the cross a little more fully.

The Philippian hymn mentioned the cross as the turning point- the low point of Christ’s humiliation and the reason for the exaltation. But in the Philippian hymn there is a surprising absence: there is no mention of benefits accruing to humanity from the cross; no mention of salvation, forgiveness of sins, or redemption.

The Colossian hymn is different in this way. The cross is explicitly identified as the means through which God brings about peace and the reconciliation of all things. Paul applies this to the Colossians in vv. 21-22 and tells them “And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his fleshly body through death.”  Somehow, the cross is the means of reconciliation with God. And it is also another way that the supremacy of Christ is demonstrated. Because he was crucified and put to death, he can now be called not only the “firstborn over all creation” (stanza 1) but also the “firstborn from among the dead” (stanza 2). As the hymn says “so that in all things he might have the supremacy.”

If the Philippian hymn reminds us of the humility of Christ and of divine reversal, the Colossian hymn reminds us of the supremacy of Christ in creation and redemption. The cross is thus, again, not a triumph for the Romans but another indicator of the superiority of Jesus, the means by which he turns his enemies into his friends.

Given the importance of the cross in these two early Christian hymns, one might ask what role the cross plays in the other great early Christian hymn found in the New Testament: the hymnic prologue which opens up John’s Gospel. The answer is surprising.

The Cross in the Earliest Christian Hymns

The singing of psalms and hymns is a a practice which goes back to the very earliest Christian communities. Growing out of the model of Jewish worship and influenced as well by the practices of hymn-writing in the Greco-Roman world, Christians in the first century wrote hymns in honor of Jesus and recited them in their worship gatherings. As we approach Holy Week and consider the passion and crucifixion of Jesus, I wondered what the earliest hymns had to say about the cross of Christ. Did they mention it and, if so, in what way?

Source: MercyFoundation.com.au

Though it is not possible to reconstruct one standard set of specific words and rituals of early Christian worship for the first and second centuries, the New Testament does provide us some very interesting material to work with. The earliest texts that can be called “hymns” are found embedded in the New Testament: Phil 2:6-11, Col 1:15-20, and John 1:1-17. Each of these passages reflect the features of ancient hymnody. Even though we don’t know exactly how they were used in worship, they certainly give us a glimpse into what praise of Jesus included. And they each refer to the crucifixion either directly or indirectly as we will see.

 

Reading Phil 2:6-11 with an eye for the crucifixion it is clear that the cross is mentioned at a pivotal place in the hymn: the precise center. In this way the cross marks not only the center of the hymn but also the turning point. Prior to the mention of the cross, the hymn describes the downward trajectory of the subject, Jesus. After the mention of the cross, the hymn describes an incredible upward trajectory of exaltation.

Who, existing in the form of God,

did not consider equality with God a thing to be seized,

but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself,

becoming obedient unto death—

even death on a cross.

Therefore God highly exalted him,

and gave him the name that is above every name,

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow

in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

And every tongue confess

that Jesus Christ is Lord

to the glory of God the Father. (Phil 2:6–11)

What is remarkable in the first century context was that a hymn of praise would celebrate something so horrible and shameful as the crucifixion. By including this in the hymn, the hymn-writer is making a claim about Jesus which goes entirely against the then-current cultural values. Rather than celebrating Jesus’s power or authority or leadership or eloquence, and brushing over any cause for embarrassment, the hymn actually highlights his humility, obedience, and self-sacrifice to the point of death. And in this way, the death of Jesus is remembered as a definition characteristic of Jesus’s life of obedience to God. It is also then offered as a model for believers.

One additional factor stands out. In a context in which Rome was the dominant political force in the world and in which that force was exercised by threat of death to those who opposed its rule, the cross was a symbol of Rome’s domination. In that very same context, it is remarkable that a Christian hymn writer would use that same symbol to demonstrate the supremacy of Christ. New Testament scholar Stephen Fowl explains it this way: “If Christ’s life was freely offered up to God in obedience, then although Rome can take the life, Rome cannot make Christ its victim. Ironically, they become unwitting agents in God’s economy of salvation” (Philippians [2005], 99).

 

And in this light we can really appreciate the way in which the cross represents a reversal: a reversal of values (the values of humility and obedience are exalted over self-seeking), a reversal of power (the seemingly unstoppable Roman empire exercising its brutal force is unknowingly furthering God’s plan), and a reversal that reveals the man Jesus as somehow the divine lord, receiving the homage of all creatures.

 

With the cross in the Philippian hymn as a starting point, it will be interesting to see what the emphasis is in the Colossian hymn and in John’s hymnic prologue. Comparing the three may give us some deep insights into the importance of the cross to the earliest Christians, those for whom the crucifixion was an event in the recent past. I'll turn to the Colossian hymn in my next post.