The book of Revelation continues to gain a great deal of attention–for better and for worse. Back in the 1980s I paid sustained attention to this amazing piece of literature and wrote a short commentary. Here is the commentary’s discussion of chapters four and five, from Triumph of the Lamb
Garry Wills. What Paul Meant
Garry Wills is an American treasure–a great historian, especially of American presidents, a political and religious progressive, a powerful critic of many of the failings of hierarchical Catholicism, a perceptive commentator on current events, and a prolific writer of always useful books. As a kind of sidelight late in life, he has written a series of books on the New Testament–one on Jesus, one on Paul, and one of the gospels.
The second of the series, What Paul Meant, provides a clear, concise, and informative look at the great Apostle. One strength of the book is its accessibility combined with its reliability. Wills is not a New Testament scholar, but he is attentive to some of the best of Pauline scholarship and does a fine job summarizing some of its key insights. Another strength of the book is Wills’ clear and forceful placing of Paul firmly in first century Jewish debates. He rightly, and importantly, asserts that Paul was not a “Christian” because such a thing did not exist until after Paul’s death. Paul was a Jew arguing with other Jews about the best understanding of their tradition–from within that tradition.
Somewhat of a weakness, in my opinion, is that Wills does write as a historian–even if one seeking (successfully) to speak to a general audience. That is, he is more descriptive than prescriptive, focusing more on what Paul “meant” then, than on what Paul means for us now. One somewhat distracting element of this historical focus is the energy Wills spends on debunking Luke’s Acts of the Apostles as a useful source of information about the historical Paul. In such a short book (again, its brevity is a strength for Wills’ intentions with this book), it seems too bad that he would focus on this negative tangent. I don’t necessarily disagree with his judgment of Acts as history (though I think he presents the evidence as more clear and certain than it probably is) so much as think that if one wants to focus on Paul’s own writings as the basis for reconstructing the central elements of his life and thought one should simply do so and not spend much time justifying the exclusion of Acts from consideration (it would be different should this book be aimed at a more scholarly audience).
Nonetheless, while I was disappointed that Wills did not reflect more on Paul’s meaning for today (which would have seemed natural for one who pays such perceptive attention to the American political scene), I would recommend this book as a great introduction to the historical Paul. And, in the end, Wills gets it exactly right, in my opinion, when he links Paul with Jesus, summarizing the message of both: “Both were at odds with those who impose the burdens of ‘religion’ and punish those who try to escape them. They were radical egalitarians, though in ways that delved below and soared above conventional politics. They were on the side of the poor, and saw through the rich. They saw only two basic moral duties, love of God and love of neighbor. Both were liberators, not imprisoners–so they were imprisoned. So they were killed. Paul meant what Jesus meant, that love is the only law” (175).
It is difficult to think of a more difficult and more important moral issue in our world today than the issue of violence. For Christians, one important foundation issue that directly impacts our understanding of our own use of violence in how we understand God. Is it meaningful to think of God as nonviolent? Here is an essay that examines this question and argues that we can (and, indeed, must, if we hope to overcome the scourge of violence in our world) imagine God as indeed being nonviolent.
One of the central issues that Christian theology and ethics must face is the question of why Jesus, who by all accounts was an extraordinarily kind, generous, and merciful person, found himself is such conflict during his life–ending with his execution in the most torturous, humiliating way imaginable. To take this question seriously is to engage the issue of our own faith and the role it plays in our way of living in the world.
Here is an article I published about ten years ago that reflects on this issue. Jesus came to be seen as the Christ, a title that literally meant “King.” In the story of Jesus’ birth in Matthew’s gospel, we encounter another king, known as Herod the Great. Comparing and contrasting these two kings, especially in relation to the categories of scarcity and abundance, provides important insights into Jesus’ way of life, his conflict with the powers that be, and the shape lives modeled after his might take.
One of the Apostle Paul’s central concerns in his letter to the Romans is to confront the tendency of human beings to put their trust in idols rather than in God and God’s way of healing. I address this theme in a paper I presented to the “Bible, Theology, and Postmodernity” session at the American Academy of Religion annual meeting in Chicago, November 2, 2008.
This paper, “Paul’s Deconstruction of Idolatry,” comes out of my interest in Christianity and violence, focused especially on biblical and theological materials that point toward ways of overcoming violence. The biblical story often portrays violence and injustice having roots in idolatry. I believe that we find in the biblical critique of idolatry perspectives that are important, even essential for responding to the problems of violence in our world today.
In the first three chapters of his letter to the Romans, the Apostle Paul offers an analysis and critique of idolatry that I believe remains useful today. Paul takes on two types of idolatry. First, he criticizes what I will call the idol of lust in the Roman Empire that underwrites violence and injustice. And, second, he critiques the claims of those (like Paul himself before he met Jesus) who believed that loyalty to the Law requires violence in defense of the covenant community.
Our present-day analogs of the forces Paul critiques—nationalism, imperialism, religious fundamentalism—all gained power with the rise of modernity in the Western world. The much-heralded turn toward post-modernity may offer a sense of awareness to help us break free from such totalisms that foster so much violence in our world.
Our task of resisting demands for ultimate loyalty unites biblical prophets (including Paul) with present-day Christians seeking to further life in the face of death-dealing violence. Modernity did not create death-dealing idolatries so much as give them new impetus. The task of breaking bondage to the idols of injustice that Paul engaged in remains ours today.
I took part in a small conference of story-telling among Mennonite academics and church leaders, October 17-19, 2008, at Laurelville Mennonite Church Center in western Pennsylvania. Here are the remarks I made during my twenty minutes with the floor. We hope to publish a book in due time containing the various stories.
Here is an article I published in 1995 (Gospel Herald) called “No other foundation can anyone lay than is laid: Jesus Christ.” This article was assigned to me as part of a series of articles the magazine ran on the newly formulated Mennonite confession of faith. I was asked to provide reflections on the article in the Confession on Jesus Christ.
This article takes a narrative approach to christology, linking together our stories as modern people with the gospel story of Jesus. Special attention is paid to Jesus’ death and resurrection–with an emphasis on how those two events point us toward life, toward ethical faithfulness. The article strikes a consistently positive tone. Only in asking what is not mentioned in the article would one begin to get a sense that this portrayal of the meaning of Jesus is presented as an alternative to christologies that emphasize Jesus’ divinity and his death as a sacrifice needed to satisfy God’s honor (or wrath or holiness).
This is a list of books I give students in my college class, “Biblical Theology of Peace and Justice” for background reading (2008 version).
I have co-authored a book with Mark Thiessen Nation, Professor of Theology, Eastern Mennonite Seminary, where we debate the issue of homosexuality. Here is a link to information about the book, called, Reasoning Together: A Conversation on Homosexuality
Here is a link to my main chapter in this book, “A Theology of Welcome.”
Brian McLaren is an evangelical pastor who has gained prominence in recent years as a leader in what has been called the “emergent church” movement. In his pursuit of an authentic gospel, McLaren has grown increasingly radicalized politically and ethically. Everything Must Change: Jesus, Global Crises, and a Revolution of Hope
I’m not sure about the effectiveness of McLaren’s attempt to personalize his discussion by injecting his own experiences visiting Africa. However, there is not question in my mind that he has identified precisely the kinds of issues people of faith must be facing in our contemporary world. His term “suicide machine” for contemporary culture under the strangehold of militarism and corporate capitalism is not hyperbole.
What makes this book so important is McLaren’s effort to face head on the major systemic problems of our world in light of the life and teaching of Jesus. The book I would compare this one to is Walter Wink’s Engaging the Powers. McLaren is not the scholar or original thinker that Wink is, but he is a more accessible writer and is up-to-date (Wink’s book came out in 1992).
I really can’t recommend this book highly enough. I had the privilege of meeting Brian McLaren this past summer. He struck me as a sincere, committed Christian thinker and pastor. I am thankful he has “emerged” during these troubled times.
Peace Theology 