Tag Archives: peace theology

Why we pay attention to Jesus

Article published in The Mennonite [13.12 (December 2010), 12-15].

Jesus is pretty amazing.  He’s an ancient character in an obscure corner of the Roman Empire.  He barely made it to his 30s and then joined countless other expendable people who the Empire considered worth executing.

Yet, in his afterlife, he became surely the most famous human being in world history. Certainly, the story of Jesus has been twisted and turned, exploited for evil purposes, corrupted almost beyond recognition—but somehow sprouts keep shooting up through the rubble, bringing forth flowers, revealing something of the beauty of the original vision of this person who history can’t let go of.

We still must ask, though, why do we pay attention to Jesus?

Once upon a time, there was a brilliant young German scholar and musician who paid attention to Jesus.  The seriousness with which he paid attention to Jesus led Albert Schweitzer to abandon a career that combined being a professor of religion with being a world-renowned organist.  He returned to school, earned a medical doctorate and spent the rest of his long life as a medical missionary in Africa and gained enough renown to be named winner of the Nobel Peace Prize for his humanitarian work.

Schweitzer’s most important scholarly work was about Jesus.  In his book The Quest of the Historical Jesus, he surveyed attempts by European scholars in the 19th century to produce a purely objective, historically accurate portrayal of Jesus and get behind the obvious biases of the gospel writers to the supposed bedrock of fact.

Schweitzer scorned these efforts. He concluded his book with the famous image of various scholars peering deep into the wells of history looking for the face of the historical Jesus.  They don’t realize that the face they see looking up at them is actually their own.  They are not really looking at Jesus but only at a reflecting pool of water.

This image makes an undeniable, and very important, point. We all look at Jesus through our own perspective.  We all look for stuff that matters to us and that speaks to our world.  None of us can be objective about Jesus.  We all run the risk of turning Jesus simply into a caricature of our own values and our own culture.

One impact of Schweitzer’s cutting insight, though, has been to serve as a kind of cynical debunking tool.  It’s a way to mock attempts to take Jesus seriously: Ah, you’re just projecting your own interests onto Jesus and calling them his.

When we look at what people say about Jesus we see such incredible diversity and  contradictions and self-justifications.  I have two recent books that focus on how Americans have presented Jesus—one’s called American Jesus: How the Son of God Became a National Icon (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2004) by Stephen Prothero, the other Jesus in America: Personal Savior, Cultural Hero, National Obsession (HarperOne, 2005) by Richard Wightman Fox.  These books make it clear how so many in our culture have confused a reflection of themselves for a picture of Jesus.

And yet….

There just may be something we could call revelatory in this cacophony of images of Jesus humans have generated these past 2,000 years.  Maybe we do see something truthful in the sum of what humans, Christian and non-Christian, rich and poor, religious and secular, young and old, westerner and easterner, say about Jesus.

Continue reading

Old Testament Bases for Christian Peace Theology

Paper presented in the Scriptural/Contextual Ethics Consultation

American Academy of Religion—Atlanta, October 31, 2010

Ted Grimsrud

The “just peacemaking” project has made a great start in a practical effort to overcome the curse of war. The desire to expand the project beyond Christianity is welcome—in fact absolutely necessary. My paper points in two mutually reinforcing directions—one is to challenge Christians in our understanding of the bases for our peace theology, the second is to work at finding common ground between Christian peace theology and other traditions (most obviously Judaism, but potentially beyond).

Christian peace theology tends to be New Testament centered, especially drawing on the gospels. Most Christians seem to assume that the Old Testament has little to offer for the work of overcoming war and violence. The comment of a friend of mine many years ago may be representative. We were in a Bible study group together and when someone suggested we study something from the Old Testament, my friend snorted and stated flatly, “I don’t want anything to do with that bloody book!” Many Christians who have wanted something to do with the Old Testament, going back to Augustine, have used it to justify warfare.

So it’s no surprise when a Christian peace theologian such as Jack Nelson-Pallmyer writes a polemical book critiquing Christian acceptance of violent theology, he would portray the Old Testament pretty strictly as a problem. Even peace theologians who don’t share this antipathy do little to develop a positive Old Testament centered peace theology.

Happily, numerous Old Testament scholars have helped us better to see the Hebrew scriptures as conveying a positive message of peace. But as yet, these scholars have mainly produced historical and textual studies more than biblically based peace theologies.

As a constructive theologian drawing on the work of biblical scholars, I try to develop a present-day peace theology that will be usable both within Christian communities and as we relate to fellow peacemakers outside our faith tradition. I am especially concerned to push strenuously the value of reading the Bible as a whole. I believe we find in the Bible a coherent story that provides a powerful basis for peace theology. The Old Testament plays a crucial role in this story—not as a preliminary to the essential part, but by providing the core message of peace and salvation that Jesus and the New Testament confirm and vindicate. Continue reading

Salvation in the “Good Samaritan” Story

I have posted another in my series of sermons on Jesus based on the Gospel of Luke. My November 14 sermon, the ninth in the series, focuses on Luke 10 and the famous story Jesus told about the Samaritan who offers help to a beaten traveler, showing what it means to be a neighbor, which—in the context of this story—is about what it means to inherit eternal life.

The sermon focuses on what this story tells us about Jesus’ presentation of salvation. One interesting angle for reflecting on salvation is to ask, what are we saved from? The Good Samaritan story tells us that one key aspect of life we need to be saved from is to limit our love only to certain types of people.

The sermon may be found here: it’s called “Salvation—From What.” The other sermons in the series may be found here.

Bible Studies on the Old Testament God

During the Fall of 2010, I am writing a series of short Bible studies for the Mennonite Weekly Review. They are focused on the picture of God in Exodus and several of the psalms. Here are links to these essays:

(1) Exodus 3: Moses Meets God

(2) Exodus 20: Rules for the Saved

(3) Exodus 32: Wrath of God

(4) Exodus 34: Wrath and Mercy

(5) Psalm 8: God’s Agents

(6) Psalm 19: Rules that Give Joy

(7) Psalm 46: King of Peace

(8) Psalm 47: Subdued by God

(9) Psalm 63: In God We Trust

(10) Psalm 66

(11) Psalm 90

(12) Psalm 91

(13) Psalm 139

Jesus as troublemaker

I have started again on my series of sermons on Jesus based on the Gospel of Luke. My October 17 sermon, the eighth in the series, focuses on Luke 9, which is a focused discussion on Jesus’ identity—prophet or Messiah or Son of Man or Son of God? These are the options mentioned in the text.

The sermon suggests that the key motif in this chapter of Luke that clarifies Jesus’ identity is how Jesus was a troublemaker. And he serves as a model for his disciples to join him in “holy troublemaking.”

The sermon may be found here: it’s called “The Troublemaker.” The other sermons in the series may be found here.

The Long Shadow: World War II’s Moral Legacy

Ted Grimsrud—EMU University Colloquium—9/29/10

[During the 2010-11 school year, I am taking a sabbatical and working on a book project on the topic covered in this lecture. This is kind of a preliminary report. I hope to post drafts of the chapters of the book on this website as I get them ready. Comments are coveted!]

World War II was the biggest catastrophe ever to befall humanity. Think of it like this: say a meteorite crashes into Harrisonburg and kills 40,000 people. This would be incredible news. America’s worst ever natural disaster. But then, imagine that something like this happens every single day for five years. You can’t imagine that? Well, that’s what World War II was—40,000 people killed every single day for five years.

But World War II wasn’t a natural catastrophe—it was something human beings did to each other. These 75 million people didn’t just die due to impersonal nature run amok. They were killed by other people. World War II was an intensely moral event. Human choices. Human values. Human actions.

And World War II has cast a long shadow. We’re still in its shadow. As William Faulkner wrote, “the past is never dead. It’s not even past.” Just one example. In Barak Obama’s acceptance speech upon receiving the Nobel Peace Prize, just last December, he alluded to the necessity for America to fight our war in Afghanistan—and cited the war against Hitler as one key rationale. That war was obviously a necessary war, our nation’s “good war,” and it helps us see our current wars as necessary as well.

So, to come to terms with our moral stance concerning our present wars (and all wars require a moral stance of one kind or another), we need to come to terms with the moral legacy of the big war, World War II, the one that stands, in this country, as the paradigm for war’s necessity. This is my focus during this sabbatical year.

As I work on this project, I reflect on this war’s impact on my own life. World War II brought my parents together. My father, Carl, grew up in Minnesota. My mother, Betty, in Oregon. In early 1941, Carl enlisted in the Army and was first stationed in eastern Oregon. He met Betty, they fell in love, and promised to join together as soon as the War was over. This is their wedding picture. Carl fought with distinction for three years in the Pacific war, was promoted to captain, and actually asked by the army to stay in. But he’d had enough of guns and wanted to build a life with Betty, who had spent the war years also in the army as a recruiter.

They started having kids right away, ultimately contributing five to the baby boom generation. It took until 1954 to come up with a boy. Betty wanted to name him Carl III, but Carl said no, I want to name him Ted, after my best friend who was killed in combat.

I didn’t hear a lot about “the War” growing up; it was always in the background though, as something important and good that my parents had played their part in. The one conversation I remember came when I was 17. My dad urged me to apply to attend one of the military academies. He said his military service was a terrific experience and he thought I’d value it too. I didn’t agree, and he didn’t press the point. Continue reading

“Pursue Peace”: My monthly column

Beginning with the September, 2010, issue, Purpose: Stories of Faith and Promise, which is a monthly devotional magazine published by Faith and Life Resources of the Mennonite Publishing Network, will carry a regular column by me on peace themes. The column is called “Pursue Peace,” and will engage the various themes that each issue of the magazine is focused on.

Here are links to the columns that have been published so far:

September 2010—”Rehearsals for retirement.”

October 2010—”Communion serving peace.”

November 2010—”A volunteer for Jesus.”

Is Pacifism Ever an Idol?

Ted Grimsrud (January 2010)

As a young adult in the 1970s, I found a strong sense of clarity to realize that I could never participate in war.  Then I discovered Mennonites—Christian pacifists with a strong tradition to back them up.  Then, I discovered surprising ambivalence about pacifism among Mennonites, even to the point where some Mennonites have charged that the church has made pacifism an idol.

What is in mind in this linking of pacifism with idolatry?  I think at least some of the following points may be present.  Pacifism could be seen to be an ideology, a human-centered, rigid philosophy similar to, say, Marxism or Libertarianism—and as such actually in competition with God as the center.

Or pacifism could be understood to be at best something we add to the core message of the gospel, perhaps valid in an optional kind of way but a problem when it is seen as too central.  When pacifism becomes too central it almost certainly will distract us from the main concerns of the gospel such as personal evangelism and the call to holiness.

Or pacifism could be seen to have become a badge of Mennonite identity, something that separates us from and elevates us over other Christians, an occasion for pride.

Or, finally, pacifism could be seen as making a human philosophy the basis for limiting God’s sovereignty.  With pacifism we may be telling God what God may or may not ask us to do.

I believe, though, that properly understood, Christian pacifism can never be an idol. Continue reading

Mennonites and Homosexuality

Welcoming But Not Affirming: The Logic of MC USA’s “Teaching Position” on Homosexuality

Ted Grimsrud—July 2010

[Author’s note: This essay was drafted shortly after I taught my Introduction to Theology class, which included a unit on homosexuality. I wanted to get some of my thoughts onto paper while they were fresh. I have not yet been able to develop the argument in this essay as thoroughly as I hope to. However, due to other commitments it may be some time before I can return to fleshing out my thoughts. Especially, the paper’s final section needs significant expansion. In the meantime, I am posting the essay here on Peace Theology in hopes that some may find it helpful—and that I may receive constructive criticism that will help me when I return to the essay. For a pdf version of this paper go here: Mennonites and Homosexuality. A slightly revised version of this article was published as “The Logic of the Mennonite Church USA Teaching Position on Homosexuality” in Brethren Life and Thought 55.1-2 (Winter 2010), 10-23.]

Numerous times over the past twenty-five years I have entered into conversations concerning issues related to our churches’ response to the presence in our midst of gay[1] Christians.  These conversations remain as challenging and seemingly unresolvable as ever.  But they also remain as interesting as ever.  And I keep learning as I engage in such conversations—about my own views and deep-seated values, about the dynamics of the conversation, and about the perspectives of my conversation partners (especially those with whom I disagree).

Certainly the conversations are complex and viewpoints are almost infinitely varied.  We all bring a mixture of motivations, ethical resources, political agendas, social locations, levels of education, personal experiences, and so much more.  However, as a trained ethicist, my tendencies run toward trying to provide some kind of conceptual order in analyzing these conversations.  This leads me to suggest various ordering categories—not (heaven forbid!) as stable slots into which to fit various actors (so I will avoid the word “type” and instead use terms such as “tendency,” “way of arguing,” and “inclination”)—as aids for growing in understanding (the proverbial “heuristic devices” as artificial categories that have educational value but must be held lightly).

The first set of categories I will use is meant to give us reasonably neutral terms for the two sides in the debate, focusing on issues centered in the churches.  These terms are “inclusive” and “restrictive.”  These two terms focus on the specific question of whether a church participant’s “gayness” per se should play a role in the level of involvement this participant will be allowed.

The term “inclusive” conveys an approach that would not limit the involvement due to whether the people are gay or not (this view could easily hold that the church should restrict the involvement of all people who are involved in sinful relationships, heterosexual or homosexual—the point being, though, that heterosexual couples and homosexual couples are held to the same standards).

The term “restrictive” conveys an approach that would limit the involvement of people who are presently in intimate same-sex relationships (or perhaps also those who are open to entering into such relationships).  The degree of restrictiveness might vary greatly among different churches, but in all cases the basis for restriction is the gayness of the participants. Continue reading

An Anabaptist Vision for the 21st Century—Some Propositions

The process of applying the basic convictions of the Anabaptist tradition continues to engage (as it should) present day heirs of the Radical Reformation. Several years ago I was involved in an on-line conversation that resulted in the formulation of a set of “theses” meant to stimulate reflection and conversation for contemporary Anabaptists. This set of theses may be found here, entitled “An Anabaptist Vision for the 21st Century—Some Propositions.”

These ideas were circulated to a number of attendees at the 2005 Mennonite Church General Assembly, and then essentially disappeared. I just recently remembered them and decided to dust them off. In the days to come, I will be thinking about how to pursue further conversation about these theses.

Comments on this website are welcome.