May 23, 2004

the x factor

I was intrigued by Reno’s discussion of spirituality. The whole idea of spirituality in our present life is both ambiguous and at times convoluted. It seems to me that we have fallen into a pattern of “to each their own” with no real regard for what the goal of spiritual life is—to draw us into communion with God, ourselves, one another. Maybe that is not the goal. Maybe the goal really is about our individual journey to find meaning, with or without the church. What exactly is spirituality and what does it have to do with the Christian faith? What is the answer, the x, of the spiritual life equation?

Reno says that spirituality (Christian spirituality, that is), “denotes the many and various efforts to find life in the concreta Chrisitiana, the aggregate of first-order language and practice that constitutes the visible forms of Christian life” (p.131). Reno says that people want “life” and are seeking any way possible to find it (p.130).

Reno discusses William Temple’s theory that the spirituality factor is the x that fills in the gap between the early tradition of the church and our contemporary world. Temple says that the connection between the two happens through religious experience in life, which in turn actualizes one’s “personality” (p.133). Temple holds that within the religious experience is the x that illumines the path toward wholeness in faith. He moves away from “first-order language and practice” (p.133) in order to gain appreciation for the "power of life”(p.134) that is present in the apostolic tradition. For Reno the value of Temple’s theory is that it does not deny the importance of first-order language and tradition.

We see the converse in Reno’s discussion of John Shelby Spong’s equation. Reno writes, “ Spong uses the x to show the irrelevance and even debilitating immorality and irrationality of the first-order language and practice of the church” (p.134). Reno agrees at some level with Spong—the church has become lifeless. While Spong advocates doing away with that which is lifeless, in favor of “a simple religion of the x” (p.135), Reno advocates that the x is found in that which is lifeless—in the ruins of the church.

He calls upon the help of Origen from the ancient church to illumine his theory. Reno writes, “Origen anticipates the internal obscurities and lifelessness of the concreta Christiana. Thus he helps us find life in the very lifelessness of Christian language and practice” (p.141). How does he do this?

“For Origen there is no x outside of apostolic Christianity to which one can appeal in order to renew or rejuvenate apostolic Christianity” (p.141). He looks within the faith to find the answers, the path toward completeness. Though Scripture may seem impotent, without life and meaning, there is value deeper below the surface that warrants our digging through the trenches and ruins of the church.

This is a better fit for Reno. He asserts, “the impotence we perceive is part of the potency of new life that is promised, for it forces us to submit ourselves to a lifetime of obedient searching in the very concreta Christiana we might so quickly abandon as inauspicious and lifeless. The weakness forces us to look again rather than to look elsewhere” (p.144).

Is Reno too idealistic? Is what he proposes really possible with the postmodern sensitivity to x? Reno gives us some great questions:

Why undertake all the heavy lifting to find spiritual significance in first-order Christian language and practice? Should we not allow for some well-considered triage in order to cut away the lifeless parts of the Christian tradition? (p.135)

Posted by Jeffrey at 02:25 PM | Comments (4037)

May 17, 2004

In the Ruins of the Church

My apologies. This was posted on the mission weblog.


Perhaps I am too skeptical, but I had a difficult time with Reno's assessment that the church is in ruins. I'm not sure that I agree with that, but even if what he says is true, how is the church so different now than in years past? Hasn't the church always struggled with its identity in the midst of the world? Is Reno really calling for something new, original?

He asserts that people are genuinely afraid of the church and its authority (p.36). He goes on to says that, "the horror of dependence and the fear of difference more adequately explain important modern criticisms of Christian teaching..." (p.57). Further, "Chrisitianity is not too incredible; it is too dangerous" (p.57).

I think that Reno is right in pointing out that this is clearly a question of authority; however, I do not think that fear is a reality for most people in regard to the church. I question whether the church is largely even a consideration. There are more people outside the realm of the church than inside the church. The church is largely invisible. Darby says that and Reno concurs. "The church is in a state of ruin, immersed and buried in the world--invisible, if you will have it so; whilst it ought to be held forth, as a candlestick, the light of God" (p.16). I agree that "an invisible church is a failed church" (p.16).

Reno says that people are afraid of the church and what it represents.

I am hesitant to agree with him. I think that rather than fear, it is precisely a lack of fear that has caused the situation that the church finds itself in today. People are fearless in this world of ours where momentary gratification in a smorgasboard world is right at our fingertips. The church has been reduced to a small condiment amidst the vast spread of consumerist entrees.

How can the church reclaim its rightful place? Its authority?

Reno says that we need to "draw near to the memory of the apostles, made sensual in the words of the Scripture, in the ancient liturgies, in the dogmatic and disciplinary traditons of the church" (p. 28).

Okay. How do we do this?

I think he touches on something significant. Perhaps too much emphasis has been placed on the church's need to change when in reality it is we who are in the church that need to change our thinking, attitudes, practices of daily spiritual life. Reno says, "revision should strengthen the anchor of common worship so that we see as clearly as possible that we-- not Christian teaching and practice--must change in order to dwell in the fullness of new life" (p.109).

I think he is right. I still wonder what this looks like? Using Reno's theology, I wonder what a practical theology looks like? Does fear need to be reclaimed as good, not an evil? Doesn't fear serve to heighten moral consciousness? If there are no consequences for our actions then why change?

I'm not advocating an oppressive "fear" that keeps all of us beaten down and cowering, but I do think that there is something significant in reclaiming fear as respectful reverence for the authority of God. What do you think?


Posted by Jeffrey in at 10:55 AM | Comments (0) May 2004

Posted by Jeffrey at 03:59 PM | Comments (2693)

May 14, 2004

Susie's Presentation

Here is Susie's Presentation (with pictures).

Note: This work is part of a class presentation and presented here for the sole use of the class. It is believed that therefore the use of images fall into academic fair use.

Posted by Trevor at 01:40 PM | Comments (2371)

May 03, 2004

On Friendship

In David Moss’ discussion of Friendship, he assumes an early church understanding that theoria arises from friendships rooted in love and mutuality, one for another. Theoria is a concept that was introduced in the ‘Great Tradition’ of the patristics. Moss defines theoria as “the proper contemplation of the transcendental properties of Being itself: goodness, truth and beauty” (pp.128). He posits that such an understanding as held in the ‘Great Tradition’ would do much to counteract the influences of secularism and post-modernist nihilism that plague the world today. He believes that the practice of an Anselmian understanding of friendship is one way to “begin to address a current obsession in ‘high theory’ today with the status and absenting presence of ‘the Other’ (p.128).

Moss quotes Cicero in giving us the classical definition of friendship as ‘the complete identity of feeling about all things in heaven and earth: an identity that is strengthened by mutual goodwill and affection’ (p.130). Moss goes onto say that implicit in such a definition is the concept of “interiorisation” (p.130), an exchange of sorts that happens, one with another that results in the friend beings image becoming real and present within the other. The friend is more than just a being, but as friend the friend becomes somehow an interior part of the other as “lover and beloved” (p.132). It is through such exchange in love one for the other that “an interior presence of the friend” (p.132) manifests itself within the other. He unpacks this theory of interiorization in his discussion of Anselm.

For Anselm, the core of friendship is love (p.132). Among friends the love is both mutual and conscious (p.132). This love produces an “interior presence of the friend”, or put another way, “an inscription of image-likeness in the ‘heart’ (p.133). In as much as both persons are created in the image of God, this inscription is both an image of the person, and more importantly, God. The image takes its form as spiritual rather than physical, and with it comes a “unity of love” (p.133), one for the other. This he calls infallible intuition (p.133), a blessed assurance of sorts. Anselm holds that this vision that manifests itself in the interior of the friends is dulcedo (sweetness). A sweetness that is emblazoned in the heart evokes the senses in new ways and within the friends there is an exchange that occurs. The image of the one becomes a real image that can be seen and heard within the other (p.133), and these senses awaken and are exchanged for the senses of taste and smell (p.133). This exchange results in knowledge (p.134). All this said, Anselms’ concept of friendship is rooted in the key concept of radical orthodoxy, participation (p.134).

Moss writes, “Anselm’s notion of friendship always moves in a circle thus: to be a friend I must have a friend, and to have a friend I must be a friend in an exchange ever motivated by love as the recognition of virtue, and of virtue as the fruit of love” (p. 135). Moss contends that this movement in friendship is analogous to the “movement of faith” (p.135), and transcends the realm of friendship to theoria.

Moss gives us a good question to begin with. He asks, “ if the convolution of friendship with theoria resides in an exchanging of sense which raises speculation to the heavens, then what of an exchange in which God offers himself in friendship to His creation in the unheard of descent of the Logos?” (p.139).

How does the Anselmian approach to friendship work in corporate structures/alliances? Does it work or is this concept only applicable to personal (1:1) friendships? Where does the church come into play?

Where does authority have its place in friendship?

What about false friendships that present originally as authentic? These seem to be more the norm than the exception?


Posted by Jeffrey at 08:08 AM | Comments (2239)