My friend, the always delightful Edith Humphrey, has a new book out: Further Up and Further In: Orthodox Conversations with C. S. Lewis on Scripture and Theology (SVS Press, 2017), 301pp.
I have interviewed her on here before about previous books, and hope to arrange an interiew about this newest study of hers, about which the publisher tells us the following:
Drawing on Lewis's broad corpus, both his beloved classics and his less well-known writings, Humphrey brings Lewis into conversation with Orthodox thinkers from the ancient past down to the present day, on subjects as diverse and challenging as the nature of reality, miracles, the ascetic life, the atonement, the last things, and the mystery of male and female.
Showing posts with label Edith Humphrey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edith Humphrey. Show all posts
Friday, December 8, 2017
Saturday, July 8, 2017
On Political and Sexual Epistemological Crises
I have several times previously drawn attention to Adam Phillips, the English literary scholar and psychoanalyst, certainly the most prolific and quite likely also the most interesting analytic writer today. There is, I have suggested, a clear "apophatic" theme and impulse in much of his writing, and that is perhaps nowhere so clear as in one of his early, short books I have just finished: Terrors and Experts (Harvard University Press, 1997), 128pp. I hope to develop this apophatic connection in more detail elsewhere, showing how much in Phillips is very sympathetic to, and thus useful for dialogue with, Eastern Christian spirituality.
It is sometimes a cheap trick to claim that a book or an idea from decades or centuries ago is directly "relevant" in light of the headlines of today. But I would suggest that this book is not so much relevant now as superfluous, but in a good way, that is, as having fulfilled its purpose, albeit belatedly: the very thing it calls for is now to be found in abundance. Thus, with ongoing eruptions of "fake news," the uses and abuses of propaganda of all sorts--whether from Russia, ISIS, or others--and the widespread scorn for, and collapse of the authority of, "experts" (whether in politics, the media, Church, climate change science, and elsewhere), we seem more than ever to live in an age where "experts" are treated with skepticism at best, and scorn at worst.
This is precisely the sort of thing Phillips would seem to encourage: "psychoanalysis...radically revises our versions of competence." Here, as in his many other books, he sees the usefulness of psychoanalysis precisely insofar as it undermines unhealthy (neurotic) certainties and loosens things up, allowing people new thoughts and new freedom, including the freedom to forget about themselves. To the extent that psychoanalysis itself becomes an ideology enforcing various lines of authority and various forms of orthodoxy, it has, Phillips says, lost its usefulness and deserves to be ignored: "Psychoanalysts run the risk of believing that there is a King's English of the psyche and everybody is, or should be, speaking it." Psychoanalysis is, rather, at its best when it ranges itself "against the enemies of ambiguity" and gives free reign to its capacity "to both comfort and unsettle."
We have recently seen several attempts at understanding Western politics and politicians via psychoanalytic categories, including this very interesting article, as well as regular, and by now tedious, discussions of Donald Trump's "vulgarity" and his "id." Regardless of what one thinks of all this, Phillips argues that once one accepts the reality of an unconscious mind, all attempts at certainty and "dignity," at acting authoritatively or expertly or "presidentially," at speaking unequivocally, are perpetually undermined: "the unconscious, at least as Freud described it, is another word for the death of the guru." A guru claims to offer us a solution to a problem he has himself largely invented, and further claims there is only one solution, his, which will solve the problem. But the unconscious, Phillips reminds us by quoting Freud's The Claims of Psycho-Analysis to Scientific Interest, "'speaks more than one dialect'." It is an unruly cacophony, and it mocks all gurus and bourgeois mandarins and prissy etiquette experts with their notions of what constitutes "appropriate tone" or "appearing presidential" rather than "vulgar."
Radically unsettling and undermining notions of competence, expertise, and authority are not things that most of us encourage others to do: "politicians in Western democracies do not get elected on the basis of their capacity for hesitation, or their willingness to sustain contradictory points of view, or their ability to change their minds, or their impassioned support for the opposition's point of view," Phillips notes. That is greatly to be pitied, for as Alasdair MacIntyre has often noted, the greatest need today is precisely the ability radically to put to the question all the claims of Western politicians on behalf of the structures of neoliberal capitalism, which too often largely remain hidden from us, offering us only a chimera of choice between alternatives that are, on closer examination, the same: conservative liberalism, liberal liberalism, or radical liberalism.
In such a context, the role of both a moral philosopher such as MacIntyre and an analyst such as Phillips (who both come out of the British left, and know each other's work) is to become, ironically, an "expert on the truths of uncertainty" and to resist the tendency, much in evidence in this country since 9/11, to defer to "experts" in the name of what I think has become the most pernicious American idol today, viz., "security." For part of the problem here is that, at least sometimes, "the expert constructs the terror, and then the terror makes the expert."
If Phillips, here and in other books (especially his Unforbidden Pleasures:Rethinking Authority, Power, and Vitality, which I reviewed here) offers much that is useful to undermining contemporary politicians and politics, with their bogus claims to certainty and authority, then in the latter parts of Terrors and Experts he offers much to put to the question the politics and ideologies of sexuality, not least in the grotesques of "gender ideology." Too much of what passes for discussion of these issues today is a cheap amalgam of essentialism, romanticism, and nostalgia; too much nonsense is spread about by those unwilling to recognize the legitimate differences between culturally conditioned and contingent gender roles on the one hand, and the sexual differentiation given by the Creator on the other. Here there is plenty of fault to go round: those demanding that nobody be permitted to deviate from preferred pronouns and nomenclature, and those resisting that with equal hostility and certainty. When it comes to sex and gender, most people, it seems, are, as Phillips might put it, themselves both terrors and experts! In a slightly different idiom, found in his book On Balance, when it comes to things we are most passionate about, including our sexual identities, we become unbalanced and instead emerge as intolerant fanatics.
As I have argued elsewhere, Catholic and Orthodox Christians are guilty of making the tradition say what it has not, of pulling the fabric too far to patch holes of their own making, when they attempt to argue that, from the premise "God created us male and female," certain prescriptive conclusions for how men and women are to act and think must inexorably follow. (It's the same slippery and over-hasty procedure used by those who assume that from a few vague buzzwords in Pastor Aeternus of Vatican I, the pope can do whatever he wants in any and all matters. Not so. Not in a month of Sundays.)
This is not to cast doubt on historic Christian teaching about sexual morality, which I support, but only to suggest that much of the contemporary theological debate on these issues is often unconsciously bound up with many other issues, especially those of social class, economic standing, and cultural conditioning, almost all of which go unrecognized. Moreover, it pretends to a certainty that I think few of us have, and then it attempts to enforce that certainty on others. From the Creator's "is" we are over-hasty in trying to draw our own "oughts." What and whom does that really serve well?
Instead of racing to unsustainable and intellectually vacuous "answers" about sexual differentiation, we need to be much more careful here about getting some of the questions right. My friend the Orthodox biblical scholar Edith Humphrey, whom I look forward to seeing next week at a conference in Minnesota, has recently done some of that here in a piece I commend to your attention.
Phillips will be radically unsettling to those who like their sexual roles and regulations highly detailed and prescriptive. Good luck with that. As he repeatedly notes, "there is nothing like sexuality...for making a mockery of our self-knowledge. In our erotic lives, at least, our preferences do not always accord with our standards." Moreover, Phillips rescues Freud's original insight into human bisexuality, and reintroduces Ferenczi's idea of "ambisexuality."
The result of all this is to note that "from a psychoanalytic point of view, nobody can know about sexuality" in part because "we are never one thing or another, but a miscellany. (For how long in any given day is one homosexual or heterosexual, and can you always tell the difference?)" We seek to be one thing and never another, and certainly Christians try to prescribe this, but that, at the very least, is, Phillips suggests, merely an expression of our "wish to be defined [which] is complicit with the wish to be controlled."
Rather than always and everywhere seeking control and certainty, seeking refuge from the terrors of the world and of love (including God's love, perhaps the most terrifying of all, though Phillips does not suggest this) in the shadow of the expert, the healthy mind is one that is free to forget, free not to focus on itself, free to avoid making a "fetish of memory," and free to kick out its own resident "enraged bureaucrat" who is always trying to organize, structure, and control thoughts. In the end, Phillips says that psychoanalysis, theology, politics, and anything else has to resist the descent into what he calls "Cartesianism," that is, into highly and tightly structured systems of thought in which we think we have thought everything there is to be thought, and no new or free thoughts are to be had. Psychoanalysis, like Christianity, works best when it reminds us that "too much definition leaves too much out."
It is sometimes a cheap trick to claim that a book or an idea from decades or centuries ago is directly "relevant" in light of the headlines of today. But I would suggest that this book is not so much relevant now as superfluous, but in a good way, that is, as having fulfilled its purpose, albeit belatedly: the very thing it calls for is now to be found in abundance. Thus, with ongoing eruptions of "fake news," the uses and abuses of propaganda of all sorts--whether from Russia, ISIS, or others--and the widespread scorn for, and collapse of the authority of, "experts" (whether in politics, the media, Church, climate change science, and elsewhere), we seem more than ever to live in an age where "experts" are treated with skepticism at best, and scorn at worst.
This is precisely the sort of thing Phillips would seem to encourage: "psychoanalysis...radically revises our versions of competence." Here, as in his many other books, he sees the usefulness of psychoanalysis precisely insofar as it undermines unhealthy (neurotic) certainties and loosens things up, allowing people new thoughts and new freedom, including the freedom to forget about themselves. To the extent that psychoanalysis itself becomes an ideology enforcing various lines of authority and various forms of orthodoxy, it has, Phillips says, lost its usefulness and deserves to be ignored: "Psychoanalysts run the risk of believing that there is a King's English of the psyche and everybody is, or should be, speaking it." Psychoanalysis is, rather, at its best when it ranges itself "against the enemies of ambiguity" and gives free reign to its capacity "to both comfort and unsettle."
We have recently seen several attempts at understanding Western politics and politicians via psychoanalytic categories, including this very interesting article, as well as regular, and by now tedious, discussions of Donald Trump's "vulgarity" and his "id." Regardless of what one thinks of all this, Phillips argues that once one accepts the reality of an unconscious mind, all attempts at certainty and "dignity," at acting authoritatively or expertly or "presidentially," at speaking unequivocally, are perpetually undermined: "the unconscious, at least as Freud described it, is another word for the death of the guru." A guru claims to offer us a solution to a problem he has himself largely invented, and further claims there is only one solution, his, which will solve the problem. But the unconscious, Phillips reminds us by quoting Freud's The Claims of Psycho-Analysis to Scientific Interest, "'speaks more than one dialect'." It is an unruly cacophony, and it mocks all gurus and bourgeois mandarins and prissy etiquette experts with their notions of what constitutes "appropriate tone" or "appearing presidential" rather than "vulgar."
Radically unsettling and undermining notions of competence, expertise, and authority are not things that most of us encourage others to do: "politicians in Western democracies do not get elected on the basis of their capacity for hesitation, or their willingness to sustain contradictory points of view, or their ability to change their minds, or their impassioned support for the opposition's point of view," Phillips notes. That is greatly to be pitied, for as Alasdair MacIntyre has often noted, the greatest need today is precisely the ability radically to put to the question all the claims of Western politicians on behalf of the structures of neoliberal capitalism, which too often largely remain hidden from us, offering us only a chimera of choice between alternatives that are, on closer examination, the same: conservative liberalism, liberal liberalism, or radical liberalism.
In such a context, the role of both a moral philosopher such as MacIntyre and an analyst such as Phillips (who both come out of the British left, and know each other's work) is to become, ironically, an "expert on the truths of uncertainty" and to resist the tendency, much in evidence in this country since 9/11, to defer to "experts" in the name of what I think has become the most pernicious American idol today, viz., "security." For part of the problem here is that, at least sometimes, "the expert constructs the terror, and then the terror makes the expert."
If Phillips, here and in other books (especially his Unforbidden Pleasures:Rethinking Authority, Power, and Vitality, which I reviewed here) offers much that is useful to undermining contemporary politicians and politics, with their bogus claims to certainty and authority, then in the latter parts of Terrors and Experts he offers much to put to the question the politics and ideologies of sexuality, not least in the grotesques of "gender ideology." Too much of what passes for discussion of these issues today is a cheap amalgam of essentialism, romanticism, and nostalgia; too much nonsense is spread about by those unwilling to recognize the legitimate differences between culturally conditioned and contingent gender roles on the one hand, and the sexual differentiation given by the Creator on the other. Here there is plenty of fault to go round: those demanding that nobody be permitted to deviate from preferred pronouns and nomenclature, and those resisting that with equal hostility and certainty. When it comes to sex and gender, most people, it seems, are, as Phillips might put it, themselves both terrors and experts! In a slightly different idiom, found in his book On Balance, when it comes to things we are most passionate about, including our sexual identities, we become unbalanced and instead emerge as intolerant fanatics.
As I have argued elsewhere, Catholic and Orthodox Christians are guilty of making the tradition say what it has not, of pulling the fabric too far to patch holes of their own making, when they attempt to argue that, from the premise "God created us male and female," certain prescriptive conclusions for how men and women are to act and think must inexorably follow. (It's the same slippery and over-hasty procedure used by those who assume that from a few vague buzzwords in Pastor Aeternus of Vatican I, the pope can do whatever he wants in any and all matters. Not so. Not in a month of Sundays.)
This is not to cast doubt on historic Christian teaching about sexual morality, which I support, but only to suggest that much of the contemporary theological debate on these issues is often unconsciously bound up with many other issues, especially those of social class, economic standing, and cultural conditioning, almost all of which go unrecognized. Moreover, it pretends to a certainty that I think few of us have, and then it attempts to enforce that certainty on others. From the Creator's "is" we are over-hasty in trying to draw our own "oughts." What and whom does that really serve well?
Instead of racing to unsustainable and intellectually vacuous "answers" about sexual differentiation, we need to be much more careful here about getting some of the questions right. My friend the Orthodox biblical scholar Edith Humphrey, whom I look forward to seeing next week at a conference in Minnesota, has recently done some of that here in a piece I commend to your attention.
Phillips will be radically unsettling to those who like their sexual roles and regulations highly detailed and prescriptive. Good luck with that. As he repeatedly notes, "there is nothing like sexuality...for making a mockery of our self-knowledge. In our erotic lives, at least, our preferences do not always accord with our standards." Moreover, Phillips rescues Freud's original insight into human bisexuality, and reintroduces Ferenczi's idea of "ambisexuality."
The result of all this is to note that "from a psychoanalytic point of view, nobody can know about sexuality" in part because "we are never one thing or another, but a miscellany. (For how long in any given day is one homosexual or heterosexual, and can you always tell the difference?)" We seek to be one thing and never another, and certainly Christians try to prescribe this, but that, at the very least, is, Phillips suggests, merely an expression of our "wish to be defined [which] is complicit with the wish to be controlled."
Rather than always and everywhere seeking control and certainty, seeking refuge from the terrors of the world and of love (including God's love, perhaps the most terrifying of all, though Phillips does not suggest this) in the shadow of the expert, the healthy mind is one that is free to forget, free not to focus on itself, free to avoid making a "fetish of memory," and free to kick out its own resident "enraged bureaucrat" who is always trying to organize, structure, and control thoughts. In the end, Phillips says that psychoanalysis, theology, politics, and anything else has to resist the descent into what he calls "Cartesianism," that is, into highly and tightly structured systems of thought in which we think we have thought everything there is to be thought, and no new or free thoughts are to be had. Psychoanalysis, like Christianity, works best when it reminds us that "too much definition leaves too much out."
Friday, August 16, 2013
Edith Humphrey on Scripture and Tradition
Nearly two years ago now, I interviewed the Orthodox biblical scholar and theologian Edith Humphrey about her book on liturgy, published in 2011. Well, she's a busy woman, and has another book out this year: Scripture and Tradition: What the Bible Really Says (Baker Academic, 2013), 192pp.
AD: Tell us about your recent background, and in particular what led
you from your last book on liturgy to this new book, Scripture and
Tradition.
EH: Thanks for the opportunity to talk to you about my new book. In some ways, Scripture and Tradition may seem like a spin-off from Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven because one of the major questions people ask about worship styles is why a particular liturgical (or “non-liturgical”) tradition has developed in the way that it has. Why is there no instrumental music in the East, while organs and other instruments are used in the East: is this simply circumstance, or do these things have theological foundations and implications? Or why does my childhood ecclesial community, the Salvation Army, not baptize or celebrate the Eucharist, but instead dedicates babies and calls worshippers to the altar and holiness table to “give their lives as a living sacrifice.” Are the shape and content of such rites optional, responding to felt needs with “no disputing about tastes,” or are there some traditions that have been given and that we are to receive from the apostles and thus from the Lord? Is there “Holy Tradition”? If so, how do we tell the difference between mutable traditions, good in their own time but not necessary for every age, and the ongoing Tradition of God? No doubt I was thinking about some of these issues as I did the comparison of worship services in my book on worship, Grand Entrance, but the focus of that book was very particular—to remember that our worship is entrance into the very presence of God.
My book on worship touched frequently upon questions of tradition, but it was not these hanging threads that led me to write Scripture and Tradition. Instead, my husband asked me one of his annoying but tantalizing questions one day, “Why don’t you write a book about what the Bible says concerning tradition?” and I promptly responded that I was too busy. Then, one night when I couldn’t sleep, the question came back to haunt me. So I sat down in the living room, searching my Greek New Testament for places where the verb paradidomi (“I give over as a tradition”) and the noun paradosis (“tradition”) are found. I was stunned, because, being raised on the King James and then the original NIV Bible as a Protestant, I did not remember these particular passages as speaking specifically about tradition. A quick search in those translations confirmed my memory. For in these translations, the English word “tradition” is used in negative contexts, but avoided and paraphrased where the same Greek words are used positively, such as in St. Paul’s “Be steadfast firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught, whether by our spoken word or by our letter” (2 Thess. 2:15). This midnight treasure-hunt and discovery became the nucleus of a new book. The more I read, the more I discovered the rich teaching about worship that is both latent and explicitly articulated in various books of the Bible. To start with what the Bible itself says would, I hoped, turn a topic that is a source of conflict among Christians into words of encouragement. From there the book grew.
AD: Drawing on Jaroslav Pelikan among others, you recognize the tension in discerning what constitutes tradition and how to relate to it--what to keep, what to jettison. Tell us a bit about that tension.
Jaroslav Pelikan (of blessed memory!) distinguishes between “tradition” as the “living faith of the dead” and traditionalism as “the dead faith of the living.” Perhaps we might want to respond to his first statement, that the dead are “alive” in Christ. However, his point is well taken. Tradition is God’s gift to the Church, and has an honoured place among us: some traditions, for example, the creeds and ecumenical councils, are indispensable--part of our DNA, so to speak.
Other traditions, however, we know very well have changed through the years, and are not the same across the world, even among a single communion. For example, the Russian jurisdictions of the Orthodox church sing the beatitudes at the opening of Divine Liturgy, while the Antiochian do not. The Antiochian Church of North America retains a full 40 days of feasting at Easter, whereas other jurisdictions revert to Wednesday and Friday fasts after Bright Week. It would be easy for the more rigorous to scorn those whose tradition is different, or for a liturgical enthusiast to deplore differences in liturgy in another jurisdiction. (“What is the difference between a terrorist and a liturgist? You can negotiate with a terrorist!” Ba-dum-dum!) Our brother Jaroslav, now among the blessed himself, reminds us that our focus is to be the Lord, the Holy Trinity, and not any “ism” at all. Tradition is good, kept where it belongs, and not worshipped. Tradition for its own sake rather than for the sake of the One who gave it, is a deadly thing. This would be parallel to those Jewish rigorists who made the Torah the center, rather than the Lord of the Torah, and so missed God’s greatest action in Jesus. We might think, too, of some fundamentalists who formally make the Bible the center, but forget that the Incarnate Word is the one to whom the Bible witnesses. (And they sometimes don’t notice that it is really their interpretation or tradition about the Bible that becomes the center of their teaching, either!) So, then, what we have received is a great gift, but our adoration goes to the Giver!
AD: As director of programs in theology at my university, I realized shortly after starting here that basic biblical literacy could no longer be presupposed, even in homes of self-identified church-going Christians. So I put together a new course, "Introduction to the Bible" for our students. Your introduction also tells of your experience with such illiteracy among your students, both in Montreal and Pittsburgh. What do you think are some of its causes today? What can be done to mitigate it?
The causes of biblical illiteracy are not so very difficult to trace. First, there is a lack of interest in disciplined reading in general: our culture is more oriented to the image, and schools do not give priority to repetition or rigorous memorization today. Then, there is the postmodern distrust of history in general, and the Bible is considered one of those “old books”—a classic that culture has, by and large, outgrown. The Bible is relegated in many minds to the same place as that foggy and eccentric bishop in The Princess Bride who rapsodized on “mawwiage, that dweam within a dweam.”
In the Catholic and Orthodox communion, perhaps we have considered that an intimate knowledge of the Bible is the purview of the clergy, and that we only need what we get in the liturgy on Sunday. (This may have been mitigated partially since the changes at Vatican II, but at the same time that Bible study became more common in the Catholic communion, discipline in general also flagged.) Even though Protestants historically have stressed knowledge of the Bible, many from these churches have abandoned close study of the Bible due to a fixation upon personal spiritual experience as the end-all and be-all of the faith, and an over-emphasis upon God’s grace freely given (which sometimes obscures the need for human effort, including Bible study). Besides this, the multiplicity of new translations (however helpful) has obscured our common knowledge of specific verses of the Bible, which Christians used to know by heart. Whatever the reason, it is absolutely the case that the Scriptures are not known one tenth as well today as they were 60 years ago, and this holds true across the Christian communities in North America, though it is a more egregious problem in some places than others.
AD: Your introduction references your time in the Salvation Army, and also draws on the insights of Anglicans among whom you spent some time. (I first came across your name in the 1990s in Canada when you were associated with the Anglican Essentials movement, yes?) What do you think Eastern Christians can learn from those two traditions in particular? What are they lacking in light of Eastern Christian theology?
Well, I suppose that a look at the daily life of a Salvation Army congregation might encourage historic churches to recover a love for Bible study, because that this continues to be the life-blood of Salvationists. Perhaps some of these studies are not deep, and rarely do they incorporate the insights of the Fathers, but it is simply true that the detailed and personal knowledge that an ordinary Salvationist has of the Bible would put most members of the Eastern churches to shame. Also, love and care for the poor and the marginalized is palpable there: I recently attended a “meeting” (divine service) with my mom, and the presence of the handicapped and minority groups was remarkable! (Those caring for them before, during and after the service were not the pastors, either: most members consider that they have a ministry).
As for those Anglicans who take the Scriptures and their tradition seriously (over against the revisionists who have over-run the national churches of the US and Canada), we can, I think, consider their zeal for evangelization and their strong exegetical preaching and teaching as helpful models. These communities call us back to our roots, for of course the early Church devoted itself to the teaching of the apostles, and continued in the apostolic mission: in their strengths, such sectarian communities are reminders to us of aspects of our identity that we may have put on the back-burner. My Orthodox father in Christ once commented that we could compare an Orthodox parish to an evangelical Protestant mission, likening one to a state-of-the-art hospital, while the other is more like a tiny clinic in a developing country. That is, the historic Church has all the riches of the Christian tradition at its disposal, all the “tools” and spiritual resources for healing, whereas a Salvation Army corps only has the bare minimum (and not always that), for it knows nothing of the mysteries, of the disciplines of corporate fasting, of the deep traditional prayers of the Church. However, if it uses what it has, some healing will come to folks where a perfectly equipped but indifferent parish can fail. May it not be that we, with all that we have, are less dedicated to the work of the Church in the world that God loves—more is demanded of us because so much more has been given (or received)!
AD: I wonder if you are familiar with the philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, who speaks of an "epistemological crisis" that often develops between traditions. Such a crisis, he says, happens when Tradition A is challenged by Tradition B and the latter seems to have better answers to the issue at hand. Tradition A must then decide whether to scornfully ignore B, collapse and admit defeat, or incorporate (critically but appreciatively) B's insights into A's life. I mention this because you seem to have taken the third route with regard to your time in Protestant traditions. You don't scorn those traditions, but graciously draw on them to help Eastern Christians see what is good in them--and what is lacking. Is that a fair assessment?
What you say makes some sense to me, although I think that MacIntyre’s typology doesn’t quite do justice to the reality. There is also a situation where Tradition A has become weak in some areas that are rightfully part of its own tradition, and Tradition B has accentuated this part, while neglecting other important things, perhaps while jettisoning these things. In that case, Tradition A can take a page, so to speak, form Tradition B’s notebook, while also being wary of the entire trajectory that Tradition B has taken. I think that the emphasis upon evangelism is perhaps obsessive in some evangelical communities. (For example, there is a common saying among evangelicals: “The Church is the only institution that exists for the benefit of others rather than its own members.” But this forgets that the purpose of the Church is to worship first, and that evangelism is not is primary raison d’ĂȘtre.)
Yet, it is also the case that the historical churches, in many places today, have become lazy, and are content to present the Church as a kind of fulfillment to those who have already been evangelized, rather than serving and speaking to those who know almost nothing about the Way. The Holy Spirit's free and can go where he wishes—so indeed, we can learn from sectarians. But this does not mean that we should relativize the difference, or back off from what we have been taught about the one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
AD: Tell us to what extent you think Christian differences over "tradition" are related to the difficulties of translating into English the Greek terms you discuss in your first chapter.
Earlier I mentioned that several influential English translations (e.g. the KJV and the original NIV) avoid the word “tradition” when paradidomi and paradosis are used positively. There is also a difficulty simply in the English in that we don’t have a verb “to tradition” that parallels our noun, so that we have to use a paraphrase like “to pass on.” Both the avoidance of the terms (which come from the early Protestant allergy to Roman Catholic tradition) and the peculiarities of English certainly reinforce a tendency among some Protestants to consider tradition to be a category that is at odds with the gospel. But it is not all in the translations. The translations that avoided the term “tradition” are reflecting teaching from “non-traditional” or protesting communities, not creating this attitude. More crucial for Christian differences concerning tradition are the disagreements of the past (between Protestants and Catholics) and the inability to understand these disagreements from the inside (Orthodox). That is, there is now a long tradition of dispute concerning the meaning and place of tradition in the West, beginning with the fight of sola scriptura versus Scripture and Holy Tradition, complicated by the Anglican tradition of the “three-legged stool” (Scripture, Tradition and Reason) and hopelessly confused by various expressions of the so-called “Wesleyan Quadrilateral” (Scripture, Tradition, Reason and Experience) which is now appealed to in many different communities. Western Christians often do not even know why they have a visceral reaction for or against tradition. Eastern Christians who have not known the debate from the inside are apt to walk into a minefield in talking to those who have such reactions. This is not a matter, then, merely of translating the Greek New Testament, but of the history of the Church, especially from the Reformation to today.
AD: The end of your third chapter briefly refers to some Anglicans who "privilege" (to use a favored academic pseudo-verb!) their own views in matters of sexuality and abortion over Paul and Scripture generally. How can O/orthodox Christians respond to such claims--or can they?
It may be helpful for Orthodox Christians (and others who hold to Scripture as interpreted by Holy Tradition) to point out that these are not single hot-button issues, but indicative of an entire stance of faithfulness, or lack of it. The rise of the “Wesleyan” Quadrilateral as an interpretive method has emboldened some biblical scholars and pastors to appeals to “experience” (their own, or that of contemporary Western society) as a “trump card” in deciding whether to follow the Bible and the consistent witness of the Church in these matters. The words of the Apostle Paul are neutralized because he is said simply not to have had a broad enough experience in matters of gender, for example: if he were among us today, he would change his mind in accordance with the broad inclusivity of the gospel. Similarly, the traditional understanding of the Church regarding the sanctity of life, a stance drawn from Scriptures as a whole, and its applicability to the unborn, is questioned because (say some) we now understand that personhood is to be “in relation.” The unborn child does not have this capacity, and the rights and needs of the mother are more significant. But we worship a God who created them “male and female” and who himself became an embryo, sanctifying childbirth, human life, and human sexuality. Attention both to the specific texts that deal with gender and the sanctity of life, attention to the consistent witness of the Church in these issues, and attention to the entire story of salvation are all important in this time of confusion. This balanced approach removes the issues from the center of attention as stand-alone issues, helping us to keep the focus upon our Incarnate Lord, born of a woman, who graced a wedding between a man and a woman at Cana. It prevents moralism, but allows us to show why these issues matter today.
AD: Your sixth chapter talks about trying to discern between Tradition and human traditions. Does Scripture itself offer any guidance here?
Yes, indeed, I think so, though sometimes the difference can only be seen in retrospect. The best clues we receive are, I think, in the decision-making passages of the early Church. In the first council of the Church, decisions were taken regarding which instructions should be given to Gentiles who had become Christians—did they need to be circumcised or not? The decision the James and the others took is presented with reference to custom, knowledge and reason, and it appears as a kind of compromise. The Gentiles did not need to keep the whole law, but should avoid meat offered to idols, avoid porneia (sexual immorality, or possibly, the specific immorality of close inter-sanguinal marriages), and not eat meat with blood still in it. Though this was an early and general council, its specifics have not been maintained by all Christian communities since, especially the command having to do with properly-bled meat. Why have Christians not felt so bound? The clue is in the language of deliberation (“it is my judgment,” Acts 15:19), and the reasons given by James for the decision—“For Moses has been preached in every city from the earliest times and is read in the synagogues on every Sabbath" (Acts 15:21).
Why these rules? Because they know Moses and will understand why we are saying these things. (Notice he does not give theological reasons, but cultural ones). The ruling made it possible for Jewish and Gentile Christians to live in peace, and its main reason was summarized in some later versions of the Acts passage which omit the actual commands, and simply put a version of the Golden Rule in its place. This was a compromise measure meant to promote the harmony of the early Church.
The spirit of the regulation continues, as do the principles of morality and faith in one God, but its specificity is no longer necessary in later contexts. We may also take note of the decision process—the witness of various members of the community is heeded, the Old Testament Scriptures are searched for words about the Gentiles, and the focus is upon God’s action in Christ. The issue at hand is put in the context of the larger picture; there is collegial discussion among the leaders; and the bishop speaks, taking all of this into consideration. This tells us that when making decisions about tradition in the Church, this is not a solitary or hasty affair, but it requires care, discernment, and deference of one to the other. As I say in the book, deciding between mutable traditions and Holy Tradition is not a matter for the arrogant, the hasty, or the faint of heart.
AD: Your conclusions speaks of "newcomers" engaged in "'cherry-picking' of the Tradition." That, it seems to me, is an especial danger for Catholic and Orthodox converts today. What suggestions would you have to avoid the pitfalls of such an approach?
That is interesting. My experience with converts is that they tend to go whole hog and become purists about everything rather than engaging in a pick-and-choose cherry-picking! I was actually thinking more about intrigued Protestants who fasten upon a particular part of the tradition without seeing how it relates to the whole. Consider the Reformed Christian who stumbles upon icons, and blithely puts them up on his or her wall without a thought of Calvinist theology, and without understanding that these icons are not little illustrations of the gospel, but part of an entire theology of Incarnation. Or the more sophisticated theologian who loves the Eastern emphasis upon “mystery” but uses it to downplay the importance of the ecumenical creeds. Or the biblical scholar who fastens upon the “Christus Victor” approach to atonement in order to get away from sacrificial language—but doesn’t notice that the Eastern liturgy is full of the language of sacrifice! For those who are tempted to flirt with aspects of Eastern Christianity, as well as for new converts, I recommend that they start reading the Fathers (start with St. John Chrysostom’s sermons!), and attend Divine Liturgy and Vespers. This puts the elements that they are in love with in context, and prevents distortion or one-sidedness. It also is in the worship that we really come to understand. As Jesus invited, “Come and See!”
AD: Sum up the book briefly and tell us who you think should read it.
The book demonstrates from the Bible that Scripture and Tradition are intertwined, and that if one accepts the authority of Scripture, one will not dismiss Tradition. It discloses some of the history of the debate, and current tendencies today. Its target audience is evangelical Protestants, but I think that it holds interest for for Catholics, Orthodox and mainline Protestants as well. It is always helpful for traditional Christians to appreciate the biblical center of our Holy Tradition, and it may be helpful for more “liberal” Protestants to consider how we have come to be polarized in these areas, that is, the reasons for our disagreements today.
AD: What are you at work on now? What are the upcoming writing projects?
I am finishing off an article on “sacrifice and sacrament” for a volume to be edited by Hans Boersma and Matthew Levering, a "Handbook on Sacramentality." I am also about to begin a long-term work, reading the apostle Paul’s passages on righteousness and justification through the eyes of the fathers, moving towards a book entitled (provisionally) "Let Us Meditate Upon Your Righteousness." I am also planning a more popular book about the importance of mediation in the spiritual life, tentatively entitled "Mediation and the Immediate God."
EH: Thanks for the opportunity to talk to you about my new book. In some ways, Scripture and Tradition may seem like a spin-off from Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven because one of the major questions people ask about worship styles is why a particular liturgical (or “non-liturgical”) tradition has developed in the way that it has. Why is there no instrumental music in the East, while organs and other instruments are used in the East: is this simply circumstance, or do these things have theological foundations and implications? Or why does my childhood ecclesial community, the Salvation Army, not baptize or celebrate the Eucharist, but instead dedicates babies and calls worshippers to the altar and holiness table to “give their lives as a living sacrifice.” Are the shape and content of such rites optional, responding to felt needs with “no disputing about tastes,” or are there some traditions that have been given and that we are to receive from the apostles and thus from the Lord? Is there “Holy Tradition”? If so, how do we tell the difference between mutable traditions, good in their own time but not necessary for every age, and the ongoing Tradition of God? No doubt I was thinking about some of these issues as I did the comparison of worship services in my book on worship, Grand Entrance, but the focus of that book was very particular—to remember that our worship is entrance into the very presence of God.
My book on worship touched frequently upon questions of tradition, but it was not these hanging threads that led me to write Scripture and Tradition. Instead, my husband asked me one of his annoying but tantalizing questions one day, “Why don’t you write a book about what the Bible says concerning tradition?” and I promptly responded that I was too busy. Then, one night when I couldn’t sleep, the question came back to haunt me. So I sat down in the living room, searching my Greek New Testament for places where the verb paradidomi (“I give over as a tradition”) and the noun paradosis (“tradition”) are found. I was stunned, because, being raised on the King James and then the original NIV Bible as a Protestant, I did not remember these particular passages as speaking specifically about tradition. A quick search in those translations confirmed my memory. For in these translations, the English word “tradition” is used in negative contexts, but avoided and paraphrased where the same Greek words are used positively, such as in St. Paul’s “Be steadfast firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught, whether by our spoken word or by our letter” (2 Thess. 2:15). This midnight treasure-hunt and discovery became the nucleus of a new book. The more I read, the more I discovered the rich teaching about worship that is both latent and explicitly articulated in various books of the Bible. To start with what the Bible itself says would, I hoped, turn a topic that is a source of conflict among Christians into words of encouragement. From there the book grew.
AD: Drawing on Jaroslav Pelikan among others, you recognize the tension in discerning what constitutes tradition and how to relate to it--what to keep, what to jettison. Tell us a bit about that tension.
Jaroslav Pelikan (of blessed memory!) distinguishes between “tradition” as the “living faith of the dead” and traditionalism as “the dead faith of the living.” Perhaps we might want to respond to his first statement, that the dead are “alive” in Christ. However, his point is well taken. Tradition is God’s gift to the Church, and has an honoured place among us: some traditions, for example, the creeds and ecumenical councils, are indispensable--part of our DNA, so to speak.
Other traditions, however, we know very well have changed through the years, and are not the same across the world, even among a single communion. For example, the Russian jurisdictions of the Orthodox church sing the beatitudes at the opening of Divine Liturgy, while the Antiochian do not. The Antiochian Church of North America retains a full 40 days of feasting at Easter, whereas other jurisdictions revert to Wednesday and Friday fasts after Bright Week. It would be easy for the more rigorous to scorn those whose tradition is different, or for a liturgical enthusiast to deplore differences in liturgy in another jurisdiction. (“What is the difference between a terrorist and a liturgist? You can negotiate with a terrorist!” Ba-dum-dum!) Our brother Jaroslav, now among the blessed himself, reminds us that our focus is to be the Lord, the Holy Trinity, and not any “ism” at all. Tradition is good, kept where it belongs, and not worshipped. Tradition for its own sake rather than for the sake of the One who gave it, is a deadly thing. This would be parallel to those Jewish rigorists who made the Torah the center, rather than the Lord of the Torah, and so missed God’s greatest action in Jesus. We might think, too, of some fundamentalists who formally make the Bible the center, but forget that the Incarnate Word is the one to whom the Bible witnesses. (And they sometimes don’t notice that it is really their interpretation or tradition about the Bible that becomes the center of their teaching, either!) So, then, what we have received is a great gift, but our adoration goes to the Giver!
AD: As director of programs in theology at my university, I realized shortly after starting here that basic biblical literacy could no longer be presupposed, even in homes of self-identified church-going Christians. So I put together a new course, "Introduction to the Bible" for our students. Your introduction also tells of your experience with such illiteracy among your students, both in Montreal and Pittsburgh. What do you think are some of its causes today? What can be done to mitigate it?
The causes of biblical illiteracy are not so very difficult to trace. First, there is a lack of interest in disciplined reading in general: our culture is more oriented to the image, and schools do not give priority to repetition or rigorous memorization today. Then, there is the postmodern distrust of history in general, and the Bible is considered one of those “old books”—a classic that culture has, by and large, outgrown. The Bible is relegated in many minds to the same place as that foggy and eccentric bishop in The Princess Bride who rapsodized on “mawwiage, that dweam within a dweam.”
In the Catholic and Orthodox communion, perhaps we have considered that an intimate knowledge of the Bible is the purview of the clergy, and that we only need what we get in the liturgy on Sunday. (This may have been mitigated partially since the changes at Vatican II, but at the same time that Bible study became more common in the Catholic communion, discipline in general also flagged.) Even though Protestants historically have stressed knowledge of the Bible, many from these churches have abandoned close study of the Bible due to a fixation upon personal spiritual experience as the end-all and be-all of the faith, and an over-emphasis upon God’s grace freely given (which sometimes obscures the need for human effort, including Bible study). Besides this, the multiplicity of new translations (however helpful) has obscured our common knowledge of specific verses of the Bible, which Christians used to know by heart. Whatever the reason, it is absolutely the case that the Scriptures are not known one tenth as well today as they were 60 years ago, and this holds true across the Christian communities in North America, though it is a more egregious problem in some places than others.
AD: Your introduction references your time in the Salvation Army, and also draws on the insights of Anglicans among whom you spent some time. (I first came across your name in the 1990s in Canada when you were associated with the Anglican Essentials movement, yes?) What do you think Eastern Christians can learn from those two traditions in particular? What are they lacking in light of Eastern Christian theology?
Well, I suppose that a look at the daily life of a Salvation Army congregation might encourage historic churches to recover a love for Bible study, because that this continues to be the life-blood of Salvationists. Perhaps some of these studies are not deep, and rarely do they incorporate the insights of the Fathers, but it is simply true that the detailed and personal knowledge that an ordinary Salvationist has of the Bible would put most members of the Eastern churches to shame. Also, love and care for the poor and the marginalized is palpable there: I recently attended a “meeting” (divine service) with my mom, and the presence of the handicapped and minority groups was remarkable! (Those caring for them before, during and after the service were not the pastors, either: most members consider that they have a ministry).
As for those Anglicans who take the Scriptures and their tradition seriously (over against the revisionists who have over-run the national churches of the US and Canada), we can, I think, consider their zeal for evangelization and their strong exegetical preaching and teaching as helpful models. These communities call us back to our roots, for of course the early Church devoted itself to the teaching of the apostles, and continued in the apostolic mission: in their strengths, such sectarian communities are reminders to us of aspects of our identity that we may have put on the back-burner. My Orthodox father in Christ once commented that we could compare an Orthodox parish to an evangelical Protestant mission, likening one to a state-of-the-art hospital, while the other is more like a tiny clinic in a developing country. That is, the historic Church has all the riches of the Christian tradition at its disposal, all the “tools” and spiritual resources for healing, whereas a Salvation Army corps only has the bare minimum (and not always that), for it knows nothing of the mysteries, of the disciplines of corporate fasting, of the deep traditional prayers of the Church. However, if it uses what it has, some healing will come to folks where a perfectly equipped but indifferent parish can fail. May it not be that we, with all that we have, are less dedicated to the work of the Church in the world that God loves—more is demanded of us because so much more has been given (or received)!
AD: I wonder if you are familiar with the philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, who speaks of an "epistemological crisis" that often develops between traditions. Such a crisis, he says, happens when Tradition A is challenged by Tradition B and the latter seems to have better answers to the issue at hand. Tradition A must then decide whether to scornfully ignore B, collapse and admit defeat, or incorporate (critically but appreciatively) B's insights into A's life. I mention this because you seem to have taken the third route with regard to your time in Protestant traditions. You don't scorn those traditions, but graciously draw on them to help Eastern Christians see what is good in them--and what is lacking. Is that a fair assessment?
What you say makes some sense to me, although I think that MacIntyre’s typology doesn’t quite do justice to the reality. There is also a situation where Tradition A has become weak in some areas that are rightfully part of its own tradition, and Tradition B has accentuated this part, while neglecting other important things, perhaps while jettisoning these things. In that case, Tradition A can take a page, so to speak, form Tradition B’s notebook, while also being wary of the entire trajectory that Tradition B has taken. I think that the emphasis upon evangelism is perhaps obsessive in some evangelical communities. (For example, there is a common saying among evangelicals: “The Church is the only institution that exists for the benefit of others rather than its own members.” But this forgets that the purpose of the Church is to worship first, and that evangelism is not is primary raison d’ĂȘtre.)
Yet, it is also the case that the historical churches, in many places today, have become lazy, and are content to present the Church as a kind of fulfillment to those who have already been evangelized, rather than serving and speaking to those who know almost nothing about the Way. The Holy Spirit's free and can go where he wishes—so indeed, we can learn from sectarians. But this does not mean that we should relativize the difference, or back off from what we have been taught about the one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
AD: Tell us to what extent you think Christian differences over "tradition" are related to the difficulties of translating into English the Greek terms you discuss in your first chapter.
Earlier I mentioned that several influential English translations (e.g. the KJV and the original NIV) avoid the word “tradition” when paradidomi and paradosis are used positively. There is also a difficulty simply in the English in that we don’t have a verb “to tradition” that parallels our noun, so that we have to use a paraphrase like “to pass on.” Both the avoidance of the terms (which come from the early Protestant allergy to Roman Catholic tradition) and the peculiarities of English certainly reinforce a tendency among some Protestants to consider tradition to be a category that is at odds with the gospel. But it is not all in the translations. The translations that avoided the term “tradition” are reflecting teaching from “non-traditional” or protesting communities, not creating this attitude. More crucial for Christian differences concerning tradition are the disagreements of the past (between Protestants and Catholics) and the inability to understand these disagreements from the inside (Orthodox). That is, there is now a long tradition of dispute concerning the meaning and place of tradition in the West, beginning with the fight of sola scriptura versus Scripture and Holy Tradition, complicated by the Anglican tradition of the “three-legged stool” (Scripture, Tradition and Reason) and hopelessly confused by various expressions of the so-called “Wesleyan Quadrilateral” (Scripture, Tradition, Reason and Experience) which is now appealed to in many different communities. Western Christians often do not even know why they have a visceral reaction for or against tradition. Eastern Christians who have not known the debate from the inside are apt to walk into a minefield in talking to those who have such reactions. This is not a matter, then, merely of translating the Greek New Testament, but of the history of the Church, especially from the Reformation to today.
AD: The end of your third chapter briefly refers to some Anglicans who "privilege" (to use a favored academic pseudo-verb!) their own views in matters of sexuality and abortion over Paul and Scripture generally. How can O/orthodox Christians respond to such claims--or can they?
It may be helpful for Orthodox Christians (and others who hold to Scripture as interpreted by Holy Tradition) to point out that these are not single hot-button issues, but indicative of an entire stance of faithfulness, or lack of it. The rise of the “Wesleyan” Quadrilateral as an interpretive method has emboldened some biblical scholars and pastors to appeals to “experience” (their own, or that of contemporary Western society) as a “trump card” in deciding whether to follow the Bible and the consistent witness of the Church in these matters. The words of the Apostle Paul are neutralized because he is said simply not to have had a broad enough experience in matters of gender, for example: if he were among us today, he would change his mind in accordance with the broad inclusivity of the gospel. Similarly, the traditional understanding of the Church regarding the sanctity of life, a stance drawn from Scriptures as a whole, and its applicability to the unborn, is questioned because (say some) we now understand that personhood is to be “in relation.” The unborn child does not have this capacity, and the rights and needs of the mother are more significant. But we worship a God who created them “male and female” and who himself became an embryo, sanctifying childbirth, human life, and human sexuality. Attention both to the specific texts that deal with gender and the sanctity of life, attention to the consistent witness of the Church in these issues, and attention to the entire story of salvation are all important in this time of confusion. This balanced approach removes the issues from the center of attention as stand-alone issues, helping us to keep the focus upon our Incarnate Lord, born of a woman, who graced a wedding between a man and a woman at Cana. It prevents moralism, but allows us to show why these issues matter today.
AD: Your sixth chapter talks about trying to discern between Tradition and human traditions. Does Scripture itself offer any guidance here?
Yes, indeed, I think so, though sometimes the difference can only be seen in retrospect. The best clues we receive are, I think, in the decision-making passages of the early Church. In the first council of the Church, decisions were taken regarding which instructions should be given to Gentiles who had become Christians—did they need to be circumcised or not? The decision the James and the others took is presented with reference to custom, knowledge and reason, and it appears as a kind of compromise. The Gentiles did not need to keep the whole law, but should avoid meat offered to idols, avoid porneia (sexual immorality, or possibly, the specific immorality of close inter-sanguinal marriages), and not eat meat with blood still in it. Though this was an early and general council, its specifics have not been maintained by all Christian communities since, especially the command having to do with properly-bled meat. Why have Christians not felt so bound? The clue is in the language of deliberation (“it is my judgment,” Acts 15:19), and the reasons given by James for the decision—“For Moses has been preached in every city from the earliest times and is read in the synagogues on every Sabbath" (Acts 15:21).
Why these rules? Because they know Moses and will understand why we are saying these things. (Notice he does not give theological reasons, but cultural ones). The ruling made it possible for Jewish and Gentile Christians to live in peace, and its main reason was summarized in some later versions of the Acts passage which omit the actual commands, and simply put a version of the Golden Rule in its place. This was a compromise measure meant to promote the harmony of the early Church.
The spirit of the regulation continues, as do the principles of morality and faith in one God, but its specificity is no longer necessary in later contexts. We may also take note of the decision process—the witness of various members of the community is heeded, the Old Testament Scriptures are searched for words about the Gentiles, and the focus is upon God’s action in Christ. The issue at hand is put in the context of the larger picture; there is collegial discussion among the leaders; and the bishop speaks, taking all of this into consideration. This tells us that when making decisions about tradition in the Church, this is not a solitary or hasty affair, but it requires care, discernment, and deference of one to the other. As I say in the book, deciding between mutable traditions and Holy Tradition is not a matter for the arrogant, the hasty, or the faint of heart.
AD: Your conclusions speaks of "newcomers" engaged in "'cherry-picking' of the Tradition." That, it seems to me, is an especial danger for Catholic and Orthodox converts today. What suggestions would you have to avoid the pitfalls of such an approach?
That is interesting. My experience with converts is that they tend to go whole hog and become purists about everything rather than engaging in a pick-and-choose cherry-picking! I was actually thinking more about intrigued Protestants who fasten upon a particular part of the tradition without seeing how it relates to the whole. Consider the Reformed Christian who stumbles upon icons, and blithely puts them up on his or her wall without a thought of Calvinist theology, and without understanding that these icons are not little illustrations of the gospel, but part of an entire theology of Incarnation. Or the more sophisticated theologian who loves the Eastern emphasis upon “mystery” but uses it to downplay the importance of the ecumenical creeds. Or the biblical scholar who fastens upon the “Christus Victor” approach to atonement in order to get away from sacrificial language—but doesn’t notice that the Eastern liturgy is full of the language of sacrifice! For those who are tempted to flirt with aspects of Eastern Christianity, as well as for new converts, I recommend that they start reading the Fathers (start with St. John Chrysostom’s sermons!), and attend Divine Liturgy and Vespers. This puts the elements that they are in love with in context, and prevents distortion or one-sidedness. It also is in the worship that we really come to understand. As Jesus invited, “Come and See!”
AD: Sum up the book briefly and tell us who you think should read it.
The book demonstrates from the Bible that Scripture and Tradition are intertwined, and that if one accepts the authority of Scripture, one will not dismiss Tradition. It discloses some of the history of the debate, and current tendencies today. Its target audience is evangelical Protestants, but I think that it holds interest for for Catholics, Orthodox and mainline Protestants as well. It is always helpful for traditional Christians to appreciate the biblical center of our Holy Tradition, and it may be helpful for more “liberal” Protestants to consider how we have come to be polarized in these areas, that is, the reasons for our disagreements today.
AD: What are you at work on now? What are the upcoming writing projects?
I am finishing off an article on “sacrifice and sacrament” for a volume to be edited by Hans Boersma and Matthew Levering, a "Handbook on Sacramentality." I am also about to begin a long-term work, reading the apostle Paul’s passages on righteousness and justification through the eyes of the fathers, moving towards a book entitled (provisionally) "Let Us Meditate Upon Your Righteousness." I am also planning a more popular book about the importance of mediation in the spiritual life, tentatively entitled "Mediation and the Immediate God."
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Scripture and Tradition Biblically Understood
The lovely Edith Humphrey, a biblical scholar whom I interviewed here about her last book, has a new book out that I just received today from the publisher: Scripture and Tradition: What the Bible Really Says (Baker Academic, 2013), vii+182pp.
I've already asked her, and we will set up an interview on here in the coming weeks, once the press of the academic semester is over. In the meantime, the publisher tells us this about the book:
I've already asked her, and we will set up an interview on here in the coming weeks, once the press of the academic semester is over. In the meantime, the publisher tells us this about the book:
In some of the church's history, Scripture has been pitted against tradition and vice versa. Prominent New Testament scholar Edith Humphrey, who understands the issue from both Protestant and Catholic/Orthodox perspectives, revisits this perennial point of tension. She demonstrates that the Bible itself reveals the importance of tradition, exploring how the Gospels, Acts, and the Epistles show Jesus and the apostles claiming the authority of tradition as God's Word, both written and spoken. Arguing that Scripture and tradition are not in opposition but are necessarily and inextricably intertwined, Humphrey defends tradition as God's gift to the church. She also works to dismantle rigid views of sola scriptura while holding a high view of Scripture's authority.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Extra, Extra! World Scoop on New Orthodox Books!
I have returned from the annual meeting of the Orthodox Theological Society of America (OTSA). It was a chance to meet some thoroughly lovely people and listen to their edifying and enjoyable papers, re-connect with some friends, and hit up Arthur Avenue in the Bronx, New York's real little Italy for all the gustatory delights unavailable in the Mid-West.
Speaking of delights, you will doubtless be pleased to read here for the first time of books that OTSA members are working on, or shortly to publish. Here is the scoop:
Paul Gavrilyuk, author of such well-received studies as The Suffering of the Impassible God: The Dialectics of Patristic Thought (Oxford Early Christian Studies), and co-editor of the recent collection I discussed here, has a forthcoming book also from Oxford, Georges Florovsky and the Russian Religious Renaissance. Watch for more details as they are forthcoming.
The lovely Edith Humphrey, whom I interviewed here, has a forthcoming book out from Baker Academic in the spring of 2013: Scripture and Tradition: What the Bible Really Says. About this book the publisher says:
About this book the publisher tells us:
John Behr, author and translator of many studies in the Fathers (especially Irenaeus), including most recently, The Case Against Diodore and Theodore (Oxford Early Christian Texts), has two works forthcoming: another book on Irenaeus with Oxford, and a book with St. Vladimir's Seminary Press on theological anthropology. More details as they are known.
Pantelis Kalaitzidis, the director of the prestigious Volos Academy for Theological Studies in Greece, has just released a book Orthodoxy and Political Theology.
About this book the publisher tells us:
Speaking of delights, you will doubtless be pleased to read here for the first time of books that OTSA members are working on, or shortly to publish. Here is the scoop:
Paul Gavrilyuk, author of such well-received studies as The Suffering of the Impassible God: The Dialectics of Patristic Thought (Oxford Early Christian Studies), and co-editor of the recent collection I discussed here, has a forthcoming book also from Oxford, Georges Florovsky and the Russian Religious Renaissance. Watch for more details as they are forthcoming.
The lovely Edith Humphrey, whom I interviewed here, has a forthcoming book out from Baker Academic in the spring of 2013: Scripture and Tradition: What the Bible Really Says. About this book the publisher says:
In some of the church's history, Scripture has been pitted against tradition and vice versa. Prominent New Testament scholar Edith Humphrey, who understands the issue from both Protestant and Catholic/Orthodox perspectives, revisits this perennial point of tension. She demonstrates that the Bible itself reveals the importance of tradition, exploring how the Gospels, Acts, and the Epistles show Jesus and the apostles claiming the authority of tradition as God's Word, both written and spoken. Arguing that Scripture and tradition are not in opposition but are necessarily and inextricably intertwined, Humphrey defends tradition as God's gift to the church. She also works to dismantle rigid views of sola scriptura while holding a high view of Scripture's authority.Fordham's Aristotle Papanikolaou, author of Being With God: Trinity, Apophaticism, and Divine-Human Communion, and co-editor of such important works as Orthodox Readings of Augustine and Thinking Through Faith: New Perspectives from Orthodox Christian Scholars, has a new book just released: The Mystical as Political: Democracy and Non-Radical Orthodoxy (University of Notre Dame Press, 2012), 232pp.
About this book the publisher tells us:
Theosis, or the principle of divine-human communion, sparks the theological imagination of Orthodox Christians and has been historically important to questions of political theology. In The Mystical as Political: Democracy and Non-Radical Orthodoxy, Aristotle Papanikolaou argues that a political theology grounded in the principle of divine-human communion must be one that unequivocally endorses a political community that is democratic in a way that structures itself around the modern liberal principles of freedom of religion, the protection of human rights, and church-state separation.
Papanikolaou hopes to forge a non-radical Orthodox political theology that extends beyond a reflexive opposition to the West and a nostalgic return to a Byzantine-like unified political-religious culture. His exploration is prompted by two trends: the fall of communism in traditionally Orthodox countries has revealed an unpreparedness on the part of Orthodox Christianity to address the question of political theology in a way that is consistent with its core axiom of theosis; and recent Christian political theology, some of it evoking the notion of “deification,” has been critical of liberal democracy, implying a mutual incompatibility between a Christian worldview and that of modern liberal democracy.
The first comprehensive treatment from an Orthodox theological perspective of the issue of the compatibility between Orthodoxy and liberal democracy, Papanikolaou’s is an affirmation that Orthodox support for liberal forms of democracy is justified within the framework of Orthodox understandings of God and the human person. His overtly theological approach shows that the basic principles of liberal democracy are not tied exclusively to the language and categories of Enlightenment philosophy and, so, are not inherently secular.Nicholas Denysenko, whose book on the blessing of waters on Theophany was just released, is next turning his attention to Chrismation in a work he is preparing for Liturgical Press. More details as they are forthcoming--and also an interview with him about the Theophany book in the coming weeks.
John Behr, author and translator of many studies in the Fathers (especially Irenaeus), including most recently, The Case Against Diodore and Theodore (Oxford Early Christian Texts), has two works forthcoming: another book on Irenaeus with Oxford, and a book with St. Vladimir's Seminary Press on theological anthropology. More details as they are known.
Pantelis Kalaitzidis, the director of the prestigious Volos Academy for Theological Studies in Greece, has just released a book Orthodoxy and Political Theology.
About this book the publisher tells us:
A trenchant critique, a hopeful vision - Features: * The first sustained treatment of political theology in Orthodox settings * A critique of traditional and contemporary practices of the churches - and of theologians * A vision for engaged Christians Why have the Orthodox churches not developed a full-throated political theological voice? While known for their robust ecclesiology and rich doctrinal and liturgical identity, the Orthodox churches have not strongly advanced political theology. Yet, for our time of momentous change and tumult, maintains Pantelis Kalaitzidis, such a vision is crucial. For the first time, here is a careful analytical assessment, well informed by historical insights, of the theological stance and public witness of the Orthodox churches in the political arena. Key to developing a distinctive political theology and public witness, Kalaitzidis maintains, is eucharistic community and renewed eschatology - that is, a deep faith in and expectation of God's active re-creation of individual, social, and even cosmic possibilities. A faith grounded in the risen Lord, he says, can offer a powerful religious vision, distinctively Orthodox in its deepest roots, not reducible to a nostalgic idealization of a theocratic past nor to a simple modern programme of social betterment.I will have more details about some of these as they are forthcoming, as well as reviews in due course and, where possible, interviews with their authors. The bottom line is that Orthodox thought in the anglophone world is really flourishing, and new publications are appearing at a healthy clip. These are all greatly cheering events greatly to be encouraged.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The Grand Dame of Pittsburgh Makes Her Entrance
Recently I noted David Fagerberg's review of Edith Humphrey's new book, Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven
. I asked Edith for an interview to discuss this most recent work of hers, and here are her thoughts.
AD: Please tell us about your background:
EH: I have served at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary since 2002, and as the William F. Orr Professor of New Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary since 2005. Before PTS, I taught at a variety of post-secondary schools in Canada, including St. Paul (Ottawa), McGill (Montréal), Regent College (Vancouver) and Toronto School of Theology. I was also a founding member of Augustine College, Ottawa, where in my final year of teaching Scripture there I served as dean. Much of my study has centered around the literary and rhetorical aspects of the Bible, a continuation from my undergraduate work in English and Classics. My writing includes And I Turned to See the Voice: The Rhetoric of Vision in the New Testament
(Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), Ecstasy and Intimacy: When the Holy Spirit Meets the Human Spirit
,
the Sheffield Guide to Joseph and Aseneth
, The Ladies and the Cities: Transformation and Apocalyptic Identity in Joseph and Aseneth, 4 Ezra, the Apocalypse and The Shepherd of Hermas
, and Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven. I am a member of the Orthodox Theological Society of America, the vice-president of the Canadian Society of Biblical Literature, and an executive member of two seminars within the Society of Biblical Literature.
In popular and church writing, I have tackled the Jesus Seminar, the Trinity, sexuality and the human person, Christian spirituality and the question of Scriptural authority within the Great Tradition. (I am now completing a book tentatively entitled What the Bible REALLY Says About Tradition. I am, I think, driven to integrate my academic with my church life: no doubt this springs from my earliest formation in the Salvation Army (Toronto, Canada), a Christian movement that cares for the whole person. In my earliest adult years, I trained and served with my husband Chris as a Salvation Army Officer, pastoring small churches and leading mission and social service work. Even during that time, I was intrigued by questions of ecclesiology, and read with keen interest such authors as C. S. Lewis, Chesterton and Charles Williams. In 1984, under the influence of these authors, as well as contemporary friends and theologians (N. T. Wright
and Oliver O’Donovan
), my husband and I were received into the Anglican Church. During the mounting crisis faced by that communion, I served in parish, diocesan, national (Canada, then the U. S.) and international venues, both as a musician and as a lay theologian and teacher. Finally, in Pentecost 2009, after over 13 years of inquiry, I was chrismated in the Orthodox communion, and am now a member of the Orthodox Church (St. George’s Antiochian Church, Oakland). Retaining strong ties with friends in various settings, I am continue, with delight, to serve and speak at various church retreats, ecumenical conferences, and seminary events. For enjoyment, I sing in two choirs, play oboe in a symphonic band and practice piano concerti with a friend. Chris and I have a daughter who is in college, two married daughters and are expecting our sixth grandchild in March.
Tell us why you wrote this book:
Grand Entrance is the fruit of questions posed by Christian friends concerning worship, my own quest for the Church and my love-affair with corporate worship. I would argue that ecclesiology is at least one of the major questions of twenty-first century Christians, if not the major concern, whether we are speaking of bodies with a self-conscious ecclesiology, mainline churches facing schism, or evangelical bodies searching for roots in a time of turmoil. As one with a varied experience of worship, I am dismayed to see Christian friends (both lay and ordained) at a loss to know what to do about the strife that has come to their congregation due to changes in worship style and differing views about the nature of the Church and the reasons for worship. Grand Entrance is an attempt to get behind the pressing questions of the worship wars—what kind of music? What form of liturgy? What style of teaching?—to suggest that worship is not primarily about relevance, aesthetics or utility. Rather, worship is a gift that involves God’s invitation—we are invited, with the whole of creation, to enter into worship together.
For whom was the book written—did you have a particular audience in mind?
I suppose that the most obvious audience for this book would be those who have been embroiled in the “worship wars,” or evangelicals who are seeking “an ancient future faith.” It is my hope that the book will open these friends up to those deeper parts of their worship that are in continuity with Scriptures and with the life of the entire Church, past and present, so that they will recognize how some habits of the twenty-first century obscure the call of the Holy Spirit that we join together in the “grand entrance.” To this end, I have included both a “trouble-shooting” chapter as well as a one that “visits” a number of different churches, with an eye to the wonder of worship as entry into God’s presence. Beyond this, I hope that the book will also engage those who worship in a long-standing tradition (Roman Catholics; Anglicans, Orthodox, Eastern Catholic, and liturgical Protestant groups), but who can hardly avoid the questions of today regarding what makes worship Christian, and how they should respond to traditions other than their own. When I consider the mutual questions asked by those who worship in either an Eastern or Western classical liturgical style, I yearn for my friends in these communities to recognize the family likeness of the other—even where serious theological and ecclesial questions remain unanswered. Especially it is important, I believe, for Roman Catholics to recognize Eastern-rite friends, and for Eastern Orthodox to accept those in their communion for whom arrangements have been made to worship according to the Western liturgies. Despite the differences, here are particular strengths to be valued in the liturgies of both East and West. This should not be a surprise, since these liturgies find their inception prior to the time of the Great Schism, and have brought into the holy City of worship those riches of the cultures in which they were formed, and in which they developed. Fruitful discussion, whether liturgical or theological, can never occur in an atmosphere where Christian brothers and sisters caricature or dismiss what may seem “foreign,” when these worship moves have indeed been naturalized in Christ and in his Church, and actually constitute the casting down of crowns in adoration before the Lamb.
What about your own background led you to the writing of this book?
My earliest formation was in an ecclesial body that sometimes eschewed the very word “church” (the Salvation Army) and that did not practice the sacraments. This forced me to begin thinking very early about the nature of the church—at first, indirectly, but as the years passed, more and more actively. The Army was a good place to learn who Jesus was, but it was, so to speak, a “hard case” scenario for anyone asking “where is the Church?’ When I became an Anglican, I was delighted by worship that was Trinitarian and God-centered (over against the introspection of my earlier worship experience). However, the controversies over churchmanship (evangelical, charismatic, Anglo-Catholic), sacramentalism, church orders, and increasingly shrill revisionism led me to renew my questions with regards to the purposes of worship and the nature of the Church. My international experience in the rather broad Anglican fellowship brought me face-to-face with the diversity of approach and practice in that body. In attending an unknown Anglican parish, I wondered: Would I receive an absolution or not? Would we have communion or simply morning prayer? Would someone alter the name of the Holy Trinity for more politically-correct language? Would we sing hymns or praise songs? Kneel and bow as the cross processed or raise hands in adoration? Hear the words, “Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us” OR “Christ our Passover has been sacrificed…” And on what basis were these decisions being made? Recently I came across the plaintiff words of C. S. Lewis regarding “the liturgical fidget:” “if grave doctrinal differences are really as numerous as variations in practice, then we will have to conclude that no such thing as the Church of England exists” (Letters to Malcolm
, ch. 1). Now that discernment is certainly not mine to make, nor did I make it in entering Orthodoxy. Such were the formal questions, however, that forced themselves upon me as I moved from a “dissenting” non-church ecclesial body, through Anglicanism, to the historic Eastern Church. As a musician and director of Church music, these academic questions took on a particularly acute form: how, in all this distraction and disarray, could I serve my brothers and sisters and at least help to clear the way so that we can concentrate on the “one thing needful”?
Were there any surprises you discovered in your writing?
I am not a liturgical specialist, but biblical scholar, so there were plenty. The first was to discover that the Western penchant for thematically-organized worship is not a novelty among evangelicals, but has its analogue in the classical Gregorian liturgy. The second was to discover that it is not merely “relevance” that can distract from the major role of worship, but also an over-concern for aesthetics. I expected that the contemporary thief of authentic worship would come in the form of contemporary casual worship-songs, but saw that the problem was more deep-seated, and afflicted more high-brow congregations as well.
Are there similar books out there, and if so, how is yours different?
I am sure that there are. I think of Cornelius Plantinga, Jr. and S. A. Rozeboom, Discerning the Spirits: A Guide to Thinking About Christian Worship Today
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), T. Howard, Evangelical is Not Enough
, F. R. Mitman, Worship in the Shape of Scripture
and S. Chan, Liturgical Theology
. There are also wonderful monograph and collections on worship in the Bible, too numerous to mention. My book tries to marry a biblical and historical study of worship with contemporary concerns, with a special attention to worship as entrance into the presence of God with the whole of God’s people.
AD: Sum up briefly the main themes/ideas/insights of the book
Here, then, is what I have hoped to accomplish, at least in part: I have tried to show the deep significance of the theme of “entrance” into cosmic worship in the Scriptures, and in key liturgical texts from the eastern and western Christian traditions. My deepest hope is that my readers will come to love the worship of the Church as I have, even where a specific tradition under study somewhat from their own. I have also tried to enter into and illuminate various expressions of contemporary worship, noting the importance (or absence!) of “entrance” in contemporary Christian understandings. In this, I have given attention to music, lyrics, visuals, specific prayers, architecture, and the shape of the liturgies. Throughout, my aim has been to show how biblical and traditional understandings of worship address points of contention concerning worship in twenty-first century settings. In this, I have been very specific, pointing to strengths and problem areas in a variety of traditions. Above all, I have tried to encourage those engaged in worship to move beyond visceral reactions or personal preference towards a larger perspective (including temporal, geographical and inter-confessional insights) in their thinking about worship. Our Scriptures end in the Apocalypse, where all creations joins those adoring angels and prostrate saints who now see more than we do. “More glorious than the seraphim,” lead our praises!
. I asked Edith for an interview to discuss this most recent work of hers, and here are her thoughts.AD: Please tell us about your background:
EH: I have served at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary since 2002, and as the William F. Orr Professor of New Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary since 2005. Before PTS, I taught at a variety of post-secondary schools in Canada, including St. Paul (Ottawa), McGill (Montréal), Regent College (Vancouver) and Toronto School of Theology. I was also a founding member of Augustine College, Ottawa, where in my final year of teaching Scripture there I served as dean. Much of my study has centered around the literary and rhetorical aspects of the Bible, a continuation from my undergraduate work in English and Classics. My writing includes And I Turned to See the Voice: The Rhetoric of Vision in the New Testament
(Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), Ecstasy and Intimacy: When the Holy Spirit Meets the Human Spirit,the Sheffield Guide to Joseph and Aseneth
, The Ladies and the Cities: Transformation and Apocalyptic Identity in Joseph and Aseneth, 4 Ezra, the Apocalypse and The Shepherd of Hermas, and Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven. I am a member of the Orthodox Theological Society of America, the vice-president of the Canadian Society of Biblical Literature, and an executive member of two seminars within the Society of Biblical Literature. In popular and church writing, I have tackled the Jesus Seminar, the Trinity, sexuality and the human person, Christian spirituality and the question of Scriptural authority within the Great Tradition. (I am now completing a book tentatively entitled What the Bible REALLY Says About Tradition. I am, I think, driven to integrate my academic with my church life: no doubt this springs from my earliest formation in the Salvation Army (Toronto, Canada), a Christian movement that cares for the whole person. In my earliest adult years, I trained and served with my husband Chris as a Salvation Army Officer, pastoring small churches and leading mission and social service work. Even during that time, I was intrigued by questions of ecclesiology, and read with keen interest such authors as C. S. Lewis, Chesterton and Charles Williams. In 1984, under the influence of these authors, as well as contemporary friends and theologians (N. T. Wright
and Oliver O’Donovan), my husband and I were received into the Anglican Church. During the mounting crisis faced by that communion, I served in parish, diocesan, national (Canada, then the U. S.) and international venues, both as a musician and as a lay theologian and teacher. Finally, in Pentecost 2009, after over 13 years of inquiry, I was chrismated in the Orthodox communion, and am now a member of the Orthodox Church (St. George’s Antiochian Church, Oakland). Retaining strong ties with friends in various settings, I am continue, with delight, to serve and speak at various church retreats, ecumenical conferences, and seminary events. For enjoyment, I sing in two choirs, play oboe in a symphonic band and practice piano concerti with a friend. Chris and I have a daughter who is in college, two married daughters and are expecting our sixth grandchild in March.
Tell us why you wrote this book:
Grand Entrance
is the fruit of questions posed by Christian friends concerning worship, my own quest for the Church and my love-affair with corporate worship. I would argue that ecclesiology is at least one of the major questions of twenty-first century Christians, if not the major concern, whether we are speaking of bodies with a self-conscious ecclesiology, mainline churches facing schism, or evangelical bodies searching for roots in a time of turmoil. As one with a varied experience of worship, I am dismayed to see Christian friends (both lay and ordained) at a loss to know what to do about the strife that has come to their congregation due to changes in worship style and differing views about the nature of the Church and the reasons for worship. Grand Entrance is an attempt to get behind the pressing questions of the worship wars—what kind of music? What form of liturgy? What style of teaching?—to suggest that worship is not primarily about relevance, aesthetics or utility. Rather, worship is a gift that involves God’s invitation—we are invited, with the whole of creation, to enter into worship together.For whom was the book written—did you have a particular audience in mind?
I suppose that the most obvious audience for this book would be those who have been embroiled in the “worship wars,” or evangelicals who are seeking “an ancient future faith.” It is my hope that the book will open these friends up to those deeper parts of their worship that are in continuity with Scriptures and with the life of the entire Church, past and present, so that they will recognize how some habits of the twenty-first century obscure the call of the Holy Spirit that we join together in the “grand entrance.” To this end, I have included both a “trouble-shooting” chapter as well as a one that “visits” a number of different churches, with an eye to the wonder of worship as entry into God’s presence. Beyond this, I hope that the book will also engage those who worship in a long-standing tradition (Roman Catholics; Anglicans, Orthodox, Eastern Catholic, and liturgical Protestant groups), but who can hardly avoid the questions of today regarding what makes worship Christian, and how they should respond to traditions other than their own. When I consider the mutual questions asked by those who worship in either an Eastern or Western classical liturgical style, I yearn for my friends in these communities to recognize the family likeness of the other—even where serious theological and ecclesial questions remain unanswered. Especially it is important, I believe, for Roman Catholics to recognize Eastern-rite friends, and for Eastern Orthodox to accept those in their communion for whom arrangements have been made to worship according to the Western liturgies. Despite the differences, here are particular strengths to be valued in the liturgies of both East and West. This should not be a surprise, since these liturgies find their inception prior to the time of the Great Schism, and have brought into the holy City of worship those riches of the cultures in which they were formed, and in which they developed. Fruitful discussion, whether liturgical or theological, can never occur in an atmosphere where Christian brothers and sisters caricature or dismiss what may seem “foreign,” when these worship moves have indeed been naturalized in Christ and in his Church, and actually constitute the casting down of crowns in adoration before the Lamb.
What about your own background led you to the writing of this book?
My earliest formation was in an ecclesial body that sometimes eschewed the very word “church” (the Salvation Army) and that did not practice the sacraments. This forced me to begin thinking very early about the nature of the church—at first, indirectly, but as the years passed, more and more actively. The Army was a good place to learn who Jesus was, but it was, so to speak, a “hard case” scenario for anyone asking “where is the Church?’ When I became an Anglican, I was delighted by worship that was Trinitarian and God-centered (over against the introspection of my earlier worship experience). However, the controversies over churchmanship (evangelical, charismatic, Anglo-Catholic), sacramentalism, church orders, and increasingly shrill revisionism led me to renew my questions with regards to the purposes of worship and the nature of the Church. My international experience in the rather broad Anglican fellowship brought me face-to-face with the diversity of approach and practice in that body. In attending an unknown Anglican parish, I wondered: Would I receive an absolution or not? Would we have communion or simply morning prayer? Would someone alter the name of the Holy Trinity for more politically-correct language? Would we sing hymns or praise songs? Kneel and bow as the cross processed or raise hands in adoration? Hear the words, “Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us” OR “Christ our Passover has been sacrificed…” And on what basis were these decisions being made? Recently I came across the plaintiff words of C. S. Lewis regarding “the liturgical fidget:” “if grave doctrinal differences are really as numerous as variations in practice, then we will have to conclude that no such thing as the Church of England exists” (Letters to Malcolm
, ch. 1). Now that discernment is certainly not mine to make, nor did I make it in entering Orthodoxy. Such were the formal questions, however, that forced themselves upon me as I moved from a “dissenting” non-church ecclesial body, through Anglicanism, to the historic Eastern Church. As a musician and director of Church music, these academic questions took on a particularly acute form: how, in all this distraction and disarray, could I serve my brothers and sisters and at least help to clear the way so that we can concentrate on the “one thing needful”? Were there any surprises you discovered in your writing?
I am not a liturgical specialist, but biblical scholar, so there were plenty. The first was to discover that the Western penchant for thematically-organized worship is not a novelty among evangelicals, but has its analogue in the classical Gregorian liturgy. The second was to discover that it is not merely “relevance” that can distract from the major role of worship, but also an over-concern for aesthetics. I expected that the contemporary thief of authentic worship would come in the form of contemporary casual worship-songs, but saw that the problem was more deep-seated, and afflicted more high-brow congregations as well.
Are there similar books out there, and if so, how is yours different?
I am sure that there are. I think of Cornelius Plantinga, Jr. and S. A. Rozeboom, Discerning the Spirits: A Guide to Thinking About Christian Worship Today
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003), T. Howard, Evangelical is Not Enough, F. R. Mitman, Worship in the Shape of Scripture and S. Chan, Liturgical Theology. There are also wonderful monograph and collections on worship in the Bible, too numerous to mention. My book tries to marry a biblical and historical study of worship with contemporary concerns, with a special attention to worship as entrance into the presence of God with the whole of God’s people.AD: Sum up briefly the main themes/ideas/insights of the book
Here, then, is what I have hoped to accomplish, at least in part: I have tried to show the deep significance of the theme of “entrance” into cosmic worship in the Scriptures, and in key liturgical texts from the eastern and western Christian traditions. My deepest hope is that my readers will come to love the worship of the Church as I have, even where a specific tradition under study somewhat from their own. I have also tried to enter into and illuminate various expressions of contemporary worship, noting the importance (or absence!) of “entrance” in contemporary Christian understandings. In this, I have given attention to music, lyrics, visuals, specific prayers, architecture, and the shape of the liturgies. Throughout, my aim has been to show how biblical and traditional understandings of worship address points of contention concerning worship in twenty-first century settings. In this, I have been very specific, pointing to strengths and problem areas in a variety of traditions. Above all, I have tried to encourage those engaged in worship to move beyond visceral reactions or personal preference towards a larger perspective (including temporal, geographical and inter-confessional insights) in their thinking about worship. Our Scriptures end in the Apocalypse, where all creations joins those adoring angels and prostrate saints who now see more than we do. “More glorious than the seraphim,” lead our praises!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
David Fagerberg on Edith Humphrey's Grand Entrance
I have received a book review from the liturgical scholar David Fagerberg of Notre Dame, himself the author of one of my favorite books in liturgical theology, which I ensure my students always read: Theologia Prima: What Is Liturgical Theology?
In his book, Fagerberg shows, inter alia, extensive familiarity with the great--many would say the greatest--Orthodox liturgical theologian of the last century, Alexander
Schmemann
.
I asked Fagerberg, at once equally at home in Western and Eastern liturgical sources, to review a new book by Edith Humphrey, a former Canadian Anglican who entered the Antiochian Orthodox Church recently. We will publish Fagerberg's review in Logos next spring.
As I noted previously, Humphrey has written a number of really excellent critical reviews for Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies including of Partakers of the Divine Nature: The History and Development of Deification in the Christian Traditions
and also, more controversially, Eugene Rogers' After the Spirit.
She is also herself the author of a number of interesting books, to be discussed in more detail next week when we have an interview with her on here. I asked Fagerberg to review her most recent book, Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven (Brazos Press, 2011), 272pp.
The contents of Grand Entrance are as follows:
But back to Humphrey. Fagerberg's review of her book notes that one of Humphrey's major concerns is to rescue the very notion of corporate-communal worship from the individualistic culture of today, especially among some evangelicals. A related concern is justifying the use of very ancient forms and venerable traditions in Catholic and especially Orthodox worship. As he drolly puts it:
In his book, Fagerberg shows, inter alia, extensive familiarity with the great--many would say the greatest--Orthodox liturgical theologian of the last century, Alexander
Schmemann. I asked Fagerberg, at once equally at home in Western and Eastern liturgical sources, to review a new book by Edith Humphrey, a former Canadian Anglican who entered the Antiochian Orthodox Church recently. We will publish Fagerberg's review in Logos next spring.
As I noted previously, Humphrey has written a number of really excellent critical reviews for Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies including of Partakers of the Divine Nature: The History and Development of Deification in the Christian Traditions
and also, more controversially, Eugene Rogers' After the Spirit.She is also herself the author of a number of interesting books, to be discussed in more detail next week when we have an interview with her on here. I asked Fagerberg to review her most recent book, Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven (Brazos Press, 2011), 272pp.
The contents of Grand Entrance are as follows:
Humphrey's "ecumenical" approach is an encouraging one, and puts me in mind of a book I recently received: Anton Usher, Replenishing Ritual: Rediscovering the Place of Rituals in Western Christian Liturgy (Marquette UP, 2011), 277pp. Usher shows some familiarity with noted Eastern liturgists and historians, including Robert Taft and Peter Galadza.Introduction: The Crisis of Corporate Worship and the Life of the Church
1. "Teach Us to Pray": What Is Worship, and Where Does Corporate Worship Fit?2. "Praise God in His Sanctuary": Worship as Entrance in the Old Testament3. "In Spirit and in Truth": Entrance in the New Testament4. "From You Comes . . . Praise": Traditional Liturgies of the East5. "In the Great Congregation": Traditional Liturgies of the West6. "Your Church Unsleeping": Expressions of Worship Today7. "That Your Prayers Not Be Hindered": Avoiding Pitfalls in Corporate WorshipConclusion: "To Sing Is a Lover's Thing"GlossaryIndex
But back to Humphrey. Fagerberg's review of her book notes that one of Humphrey's major concerns is to rescue the very notion of corporate-communal worship from the individualistic culture of today, especially among some evangelicals. A related concern is justifying the use of very ancient forms and venerable traditions in Catholic and especially Orthodox worship. As he drolly puts it:
The answer to questions like why cannot we reverse the sequence of word and sacrament, or why we cannot revise the stations of the cross to align with the United Nations’ Millennium Development Goals is simple: it is not done this way. Asking "what elements do you include in your worship?" is like asking "in our laboratory we make water with two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom – what do you use?"
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Liturgical Entrances Great and Small
The New Testament scholar Edith Humphrey, a former Canadian Anglican who entered the Antiochian Orthodox Church recently, has written a number of really excellent reviews for Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies including of Partakers of the Divine Nature: The History and Development of Deification in the Christian Traditions and also, more controversially, Eugene Rogers' After the Spirit (Radical Traditions)
.
She is also herself the author of a number of interesting books, including Ecstasy and Intimacy: When the Holy Spirit Meets the Human Spirit and And I Turned to See the Voice: The Rhetoric of Vision in the New Testament; but I am especially looking forward to her forthcoming work:
Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven (Brazos Press, 2011), 272pp.
About this book, the publisher provides the following overview and contents:
Can we understand worship in a way that transcends style, relevance, and aesthetics? Taking into account the most contested issues of the "worship wars," Edith Humphrey shows how the act of entering into God's presence is central to all true Christian worship. Regardless of worship style, when we come into God's presence, we praise God alongside angels and with the whole of creation.
looks like a most interesting book that I am not only looking forward to reading and seeing reviewed in Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies, but also to adopting for use in my courses on liturgy.
and also, more controversially, Eugene Rogers' After the Spirit (Radical Traditions).She is also herself the author of a number of interesting books, including Ecstasy and Intimacy: When the Holy Spirit Meets the Human Spirit
and And I Turned to See the Voice: The Rhetoric of Vision in the New Testament; but I am especially looking forward to her forthcoming work:Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven (Brazos Press, 2011), 272pp.
About this book, the publisher provides the following overview and contents:
Can we understand worship in a way that transcends style, relevance, and aesthetics? Taking into account the most contested issues of the "worship wars," Edith Humphrey shows how the act of entering into God's presence is central to all true Christian worship. Regardless of worship style, when we come into God's presence, we praise God alongside angels and with the whole of creation.
Seeking to reclaim the forgotten theme of worship as entry into God's presence, Humphrey shows its prominence in the Bible, providing an accessible but thorough study of the Old and New Testaments. She analyzes key moments in church history to show how worship developed in Eastern and Western churches. She also draws insights from healthy worshiping communities around the globe. The book offers practical guidance on leading worship today to worship leaders, pastors, thoughtful lay readers, and students.
With a whole slew of ecumenical endorsements, which you may read here, Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in HeavenContentsIntroduction: The Crisis of Corporate Worship and the Life of the Church
1. "Teach Us to Pray": What Is Worship, and Where Does Corporate Worship Fit?2. "Praise God in His Sanctuary": Worship as Entrance in the Old Testament3. "In Spirit and in Truth": Entrance in the New Testament4. "From You Comes . . . Praise": Traditional Liturgies of the East5. "In the Great Congregation": Traditional Liturgies of the West6. "Your Church Unsleeping": Expressions of Worship Today7. "That Your Prayers Not Be Hindered": Avoiding Pitfalls in Corporate WorshipConclusion: "To Sing Is a Lover's Thing"GlossaryIndex
looks like a most interesting book that I am not only looking forward to reading and seeing reviewed in Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies, but also to adopting for use in my courses on liturgy.
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