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5.5.12

Who are you looking for?

Tonight, the ESR class of 2012 celebrated their time at ESR in a baccalaureate service.  Susan Yanos, professor of writing and ministry, gave a message based on the ending of the Gospel of John, when the resurrected Jesus reveals himself to Mary.  In honor of tonight, and of this pilgrimage we find ourselves on, whether in or out of school, I'd like to share the following assignment I recently wrote for my New Testament class.


The Gospel of John portrays a deep and wide range of human experiences and emotions.  In the prologue, we read that the Word takes on flesh and dwells among us (1:14), validating our existence as humans.

We can see the gospel’s embrace of human experience in characters’ speech.  For instance, Nathanael expresses mistrust when he asks, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (1:46).  I imagine the steward in Cana guffawing after saying, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk.  But you have kept the good wine until now” (2:10).  Nicodemus reveals his ignorance—and expands the primal human metaphor—when he asks Jesus for clarification:  “How can anyone be born after having grown old?  Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” (3:4).  The man healed of blindness expresses frustration and defiance when he tells the Pharisees, “I have told you already, and you would not listen.  Why do you want to hear it again?  Do you also want to become his disciples?” (9:26-27).  We catch a glimpse of the Pharisees’ wounded pride in their response:  “You were born entirely in sins, and are you trying to teach us?” (9:34).

One of my favorite revelations of character is when Jesus goes to Judea to see his beloved friend Lazarus, and Thomas tells the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (11:16).  Although Thomas may have literally willed to die with Jesus, I like to imagine Thomas speaking sarcastically, knowing that they are heading into danger, yet, maybe because he is a disciple, or because he knows it is right, he has no other choice but to follow.

Before Jesus’ crucifixion, Pilate expresses wonder and existential despair in response to Jesus:  “What is truth?” (18:38).  After Jesus’ resurrection, the disciple whom Jesus loved exclaims upon seeing Jesus, “It is the Lord!” (21:7).  The narrator tells us that Peter is pained at Jesus’ asking three times, “Do you love me?” (21:17).  We see Peter’s curiosity, perhaps out of competition or fear of what’s to come, when he asks, “Lord, what about him?” (21:21).

Characters in other canonical gospels reveal character, too.  For instance, Peter has a reputation of sometimes speaking thoughtlessly (Matt 26:33, Mk 14:29, Lk 22:33).  But not only are the words I quoted unique to John, I also think their humanity is emboldened because Jesus’ speech is often symbolic in John.  From Jesus’ “I am” statements (4:26, 6:35, 8:12, 8:58, 10:11, for example) to his final speech and prayer (13-17), ironically, Jesus often doesn’t speak in a manner we would expect people “of the flesh” to speak.  Jesus’ symbolic speech foils for the earthly speech of other characters, and especially for Jesus’ own fleshly speech. 

Perhaps the most poignant expression of Jesus’ emotion is when we might expect Jesus to speak, but instead he is silent.  Near the middle of the gospel, Jesus and his disciples learn that Lazarus has died.  Jesus sees Mary and the Jews with her weeping, and asks a practical question:  “Where have you laid him?” (11:34).  They respond with Jesus’ own symbolic words (1:39), reversing the roles between master and servants:  “Lord, come and see” (11:34).  Then, “Jesus began to weep” (11:35).

On the morning of Jesus’ resurrection, Mary is weeping at the empty tomb, speaking with two angels in white.  Then she turns around and sees Jesus, although she doesn’t recognize him.  Could Jesus be teasing her?  He asks, “Woman, why are you weeping?  Who are you looking for?” (20:15), echoing his symbolic speech in 1:38.  Mary, thinking he is a gardener, asks him to take her to Jesus’ body.  Then Jesus says, “Mary!”  (20:16).  In one word, we see that Mary is reunited with her Lord, and her Lord is excited to see his friend again.


Verses taken from the NRSV.

3.5.12

Playful Theology

Today I took my final exam for History of Christianity I, in which I was instructed to compare Anselm's ontological argument for the existence of God with one of Thomas Aquinas' proofs for God's existence.  If you have no clue what I just wrote, especially after the word "compare," then wait until you read Anselm's argument.  I would recapitulate it for you, but that's not my main reason for writing this entry, so I'll let you discover it on your own.  (To quote my professor, "Please don't feel bad" if you have to re-read Anselm's argument several times.  It didn't click for me until about half an hour after I turned in my exam, and I still feel fuzzy when I think on it.)

Anywho, my main reason for writing is to explore the fact that in their argument/proofs, neither Anselm nor Aquinas were really trying to prove the existence of God, as if they couldn't believe in God until they perfected their formulas.  That is, if they had not completed their their proofs, they still would have believed in God by faith.  As church historian Justo González writes, "What [Anselm] sought in doing this was not to prove something that he did not believe without such proof, but rather to understand more deeply what he already believed."  And for Aquinas, González says, "rational inquiry helps us to understand better that which we accept by faith."

Before, I thought that theologians like Anselm and Aquinas were trying to teach an unbelieving world that God actually exists.  Believe, because it's rational!  Now that we've proven God through logic, you have no excuse!  Certainly, theologians tried this later, including some today.  But Anselm and Aquinas were doing something different than trying to save souls in their writing.  They were exploring the unseen territories of what they already believed, like someone who has bought a house and begins wandering through the rooms to really get to know the place.  Like musicians of thought, they were playing.

"Playing and praying are like the musicians' art that combines discipline with delight," writes Eugene Peterson.  "Music quickens something deep within us. . . . Karl Barth once declared that the music of Mozart led him to 'the threshold of a world which in sunlight and storm, by day and by night, is a good and ordered world.'"  Playing and praying, Peterson writes, enhance life, renew us, make us fully human.  

13.4.12

It will start like this, I think, (poem)

In my theology class we have been reading about the end of the world as we know it.  The scientific name for this is "eschatology," or the study of last things.  There have been many views about what happens after we die, what will happen to the universe when all the stars run out of energy.  The resurrection of Jesus Christ gives Christians hope that death is not the end, that God will creatively breathe new life into our decaying bodies so that we may endlessly dwell with God in a new creation.  This reminded me of a poem I read in high school by Charles Wright.  I'd be curious to hear your thoughts on the poem and this subject.


"October"

The leaves fall from my fingers.
Cornflowers scatter across the field like stars,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . like smoke stars,
By the rain tracks, the lives in a drift

Under the snow clouds
. . . . . . . . . . . and the nine steps to heaven,
The light falling in great sheets through the trees,
Sheets almost tangible.

The transfiguration will start like this, I think,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . breathless,
Quick blade through the trees,
Something with red colors falling away from my hands,

The air beginning to go cold . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And when it does
I'll rise from this tired body, a blood-knot of light,
Ready to take the darkness in.

--Or for the wind to come
And carry me, bone by bone, through the sky,
Its wafer a burn on my tongue,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . its wine deep forgetfulness.

3.3.12

The Trees by Clear Creek (poem)

Today was the annual Spirituality Gathering at ESR.  Because I was in Carrie Newcomer's songwriting class and am in Carole Spencer's spiritual formation class, Carole asked me and three other students to create something based on the presentation of Phil Gulley, the guest speaker.  I wrote a poem.


Blessed are the barren trees by Clear Creek
rocking in the wind, eyes still closed
in the perfect light.
Soon,
in their time,
sprouts will join their dance.

But the leaves that scratch the
parking lot
can no longer drink
the Life.



Day, I have not clung to my
leaves.
I have fallen into sleep
in the snow.
When the fog surrounded me, I held out
all of my arms.
Now I lie here, waiting
to open my every green eye.

Beloved, hope in the Day
both now and forevermore.



Day, you are my Life
I sing for you like a bird
resting on a naked
branch.
I thirst for you
like a cloud beneath the moon.
In your house I have sat beside you
and in yourself you have draped, anointed me.
Better than my sprouts is your love
and even my roots will shake
for you.

In you I am satisfied as after a day rain
and when I sleep, I feast on your whispers.

All will stumble who set traps
but we will leap, standing still
because when you breathe out, we live
and when you hold your breath,
we listen.

13.1.12

Two Weeks of Singing

These past two weeks have been so full and good, for two main reasons:  Carrie Newcomer's songwriting class and Danny and Charlene's wedding.  Yesterday I finished my first intensive class at ESR, "Writing Mindfully," taught by Carrie Newcomer.  I was glad to meet new folks and hear songs written by each of the writers in the class, and Carrie is an excellent teacher.  Last night we shared our songs with the ESR/Bethany Theological Seminary community, and that was fulfilling.

I wrote two songs, one of which I recorded.  It's called "The Song of the Vine" (click to hear the song, featuring Ela Robertson on the cello), and it's based on the story of Jonah.  If you don't know the story, I suggest you read it.  To introduce the song, though, I'll say that Jonah is mad at God for calling Jonah to preach against the wickedness of the city of Nineveh.  After quite an adventure at sea, Jonah finally preaches against the wickedness of Nineveh and gets even angrier with God when Nineveh mourns for its evil and God shows mercy on the city.  So Jonah climbs a hill to look out over the city, to see what will come of it, and God plants a vine for Jonah.  Hope you enjoy the song!

Last weekend, I celebrated the wedding of Danny and Charlene Foster.  I am grateful and honored to have been given the opportunity to be with and sing for them.  I brought out my Washburn guitar, which I haven't played in a while, and plucked the wedding prelude, an instrumental medley of hymns such as "This is My Father's World," "For the Beauty of the Earth," "Blest Be the Tie That Binds," and "What a Friend We Have in Jesus."  During Charlene's aisle march, I sang the first half of Depeche Mode's "Somebody."  Later, Brother Eddie led the congregation in "Thank You Lord," and at the end, Danny, Charlene, Eddie, Alex, Kat, Ira, and I played and sang "Thanks."

Pastor Steve's sermon on Isaiah 43:15-21 was perfect for Danny and Charlene, "people whom [God] formed for myself / so that they might declare my praise" (v. 21).

The dinner cooked by Sister Peggy was excellent--spicy chicken wings for appetizers, punch, meatballs, salad, and more.  Along with my parents, I sat with a couple who are Friends preachers and who have visited Richmond, and another couple and their child.  (Coincidentally, Jon was at another wedding.)  I had a fascinating conversation with Tony about God's work in the world as revealed in Scripture and the nature of time.  Our conversation, coupled with Pastor Steve's sermon the next morning about how God does not only exist in the past but also in the present, has fueled my interest in time and time travel.

One of the Friends ministers asked me how I knew Danny, and I told her a little bit about life at the Redemption House, how Danny and Charlene would sometimes set their electric keyboard, bass, and bass amp onto the cyan tiles of the living room to rehearse and jam.  It made me think of all my roommates from the Redemption House and other church friends and how great it would be to see them again.

At the end of the evening, a group spontaneously gathered around the upright piano and sang "O Happy Day" while Danny drummed away.  It was a happy day indeed--Amen and Absotutely!