Contemplating Wisdom

Nothing smells quite like freshly ground coffee. The aroma makes it taste even better, don’t you think? I do my best thinking along side a cup; early in the morning. Which was a good thing this morning as I realized I inadvertently used a word last posting assuming you would know what I meant. Not an unusual word but a choice that might leave some scratching their heads. Allow me to take a short side trip. Unless you’re an English major you probably haven’t used the word “metaphor” in conversation since getting out of school. When we speak of something spiritual—that which we cannot see, taste, touch, hear—whether it refers to a being or an experience, the only way we can have such a conversation is to use ‘words’ that are descriptive. The problem with spiritual matters is: how do you describe something you can’t see, hear, or touch? Answer: we use words that compare the ‘spiritual’ with those things that we experience as concrete, material, or, if not, at least common to our knowledg

Sorry to take so long. Grab a cup and let’s talk a bit about where all this might be going. When a theory has been around for as long as Anselm’s we make it almost sacred. And, in the life of the church, that is what has happened. Anselm’s substitution theory is steeped in our hymns, our theology, and literally so deep in our vocabulary that we cannot speak Christian without it. Most folks in the church would be surprised to learn that the metaphor for interpreting how Jesus’ death saved the world did not appear until the middle centuries of the current era. It seems almost heresy to acknowledge that Anselm’s theory was not part of Jesus’ own teachings. That’s how difficult it is for us to see past this idea of Jesus’ suffering and death being the punishment he absorbed for our sins. Now there is a positive side to Anselm’s metaphor and that is the love of God Jesus portrays by putting himself in our place. But for modern thinkers can that image balance the injustice of a God who woul

Thank you, it is good coffee. Comes from Central Market; Dallas Blend. I try to stick with decaf myself so one cup's my limit. But you’re welcome to more. Where was I? Oh, yes, there is a long list of well respected theologians, as well as atheist, who have recently published books attempting to understand the human condition and our relationship to the universe. The late, highly respected theologian William Placard summarized his view recently in an essay, that served as a guide for this series of blogs, but admits that none,including his own, are sufficiently perfect. What some find as inspiring others simply say doesn’t work for them. Girard’s theory, cited in the previous column, has indeed redirected the conversation but if Jesus was to be the ultimate scapegoat, Placard points out, the past 2000 years have not lessened our human ability to perpetuate this destructive process. Granted, a number of folks will say, “Hey wait. Why fix what isn’t broken?” These obviously find An

We can talk while the coffee's brewing. Not quite a century later Peter Abelard objected to Anselm’s 12th century interpretation of how it is that Jesus’ death saves the world. Abelard thought he had a better idea and believed what Jesus did was show that we could live at a higher level of human kindness than previously accepted. The love of Jesus portrays not only the supreme love God has for us but becomes the inspiration for the love we can have for God and for our neighbor. Abelard’s “moral influence” theory has been judged by history as being a bit too optimistic as the following centuries did not produce the inspirational change in lives it proposed. So even though Anselm’s theory of Jesus being our substitute was slightly wounded it lived on as the most prevalent view of how Jesus saves. Not until the 19th and 20th century when cultural influences from the enlightenment spurred renewed debate have other weighty theories begun to emerge. Swedish theologian Gustaf Aulen challe

Grab a cup I want to tell you about one of the most influential preachers in Church history. Anselm of Canterbury goes back to the 1100’s, born in Italy, educated in France, and appointed by the Pope to England. Well traveled this theologian and preacher engaged the hot religious topic of his day: How does the life and death of Jesus save the world? Anselm’s new thinking not only made sense to his listeners but is still the most dominant theory in evangelical Christianity. The question for today is will this 900 year-old theory remain relevant for the 21st century? In Anselm’s day there was a rigid social order. You were born into a social class that ranged from royalty to peasantry and that class determined your role in society. Behavior, respect and honor were given to the upper class and those below were expected to be gracious. If a peasant, slave or commoner were to offend someone above them there were certain retributions encountered in order to repay or re-balance this dishonor

Mom and Dad Wisdom lived near the buckle of the Bible belt; drove us to Sunday school every Sunday right passed that church with the neon cross flashing the truth known to all, “Jesus Saves”. There was no debate about “how” just that it was an unquestioned fact. Little did mom and dad suspect they were part of a society raising a generation that would question everything. Even the church’s sacred orthodoxy would not be safe in an increasingly scientific, modern world. The Apostle Paul was the first published writer of the early church and clearly his calling was to take Jesus to the Gentiles—the Greek/Roman communities of the Empire. Paul translated the life and thinking of this Semitic prophet to a community more familiar with Greek philosophy than Jewish theology. The early church fathers were from these same communities, long familiar with wrestling the ancient questions regarding the world, the universe, from where it all came, and who was in control, if anyone. Most modern schol