Engaging the Word -- Review

ENGAGING THE WORD: The New Testament and the Christian Believer. By Jaime Clark-Soles. Louisville: WJK Press, 2010. Xii + 154 pages.

Back in the day – when I was working for a Christian bookstore – there were quite a few options when it came to Bibles. At the time I was a devotee of the New American Standard and resisted the seductiveness of the newer New International Version (though I eventually succumbed to its smoother and clearer text). Later on, having become sensitized to the issue of inclusive language I embraced the even newer New Revised Standard Version. But despite the variety that was available then, today we that era might seem relatively impoverished when it comes to bible choices. Despite all of the new translations, and there are many more since I worked at that store in the early 1980s, and despite all the study options available, biblical illiteracy continues to plague not only the broader culture, but the church as well. The Bible remains a bestseller, but it is also the least read, most misunderstood, and possibly most misused bestseller on the market.

The question that the church must address concerns not the why but the how do we change this reality? There are a number of good translations available, which should make the Bible more accessible to people, but maybe the problem isn’t the prevalence of choices but the nature of the choices. Perhaps we have become overwhelmed by marketers who have so niched the Bible that it loses its place in the life of the church. It has become a commodity to be manipulated for better sales.

Jaime Clark-Soles, a professor of New Testament at Perkins School of Theology, has taken on the task of providing wise guidance in matters of biblical study – for lay and clergy alike. Clark-Soles understands the scholarly issues of the day, from the historical Jesus quests to biblical authorship to translation issues. She is deeply embedded in that conversation, but this book isn’t written for scholars, it’s written primarily for the lay audience. It’s written with great care and with eloquence, but without the sensationalism that so often accompanies such books. She’s not trying to convince us that she has discovered something new and unique that the scholars and the preachers have been hiding from the laity. But, she wants to make the New Testament understandable to people who may find reading the Bible a daunting task. She is a critical scholar, left of center in her commitments, but she is also committed to the faith, which may be why there is a lack of sensationalism (ala Bart Ehrman).

She begins the book in an interesting manner. She takes up the question of packaging – something that addresses the consumer-driven nature of contemporary Christianity. She does this by taking a look at the current ways in which the publishers are marketing the Bible, starting with Revolve, a New Testament based on the New Century Version that is niche-marketed to teen-aged girls. This is a bible that’s relevant – that is, it is packaged as a fashion magazine. The biblical text is surrounded by fashion tips and articles dealing with relationships. The packaging might be attractive, but what does this package do to the way we read Scripture? The author points out that situated in a sidebar next to the story of Herod’s Slaughter of the Innocents is an article about “emergency pimple repair.” And what does this beauty advice have to do with Matthew 2? Clark-Soles writes “Well, as the text says, ‘Blemishes come and go, but God’s Word remains forever.’” In this opening chapter, the author deals with a number of critical issues, including the problem of separating out the New Testament from the entire biblical text, the problem of study notes and life application notes. She raises the question that has always troubled me – how do we separate out the commentary from the text, when the commentary is printed along with the text? Of course, she raises the question of the dangers that accompany hyperindividualizing these Bibles. It might be good for sales, but is it good for understanding the text of Scripture.

In reading this opening chapter, you begin to discern an ironic twist to the religious conversations of the day. Conservative evangelicals are keen to defend biblical authority, and yet it would seem that these products that largely come from evangelical publishers and marketed to evangelicals could in the end devalue the very Scriptures that evangelicals seek to defend. Indeed, as this occurs, as we begin to treat the Bible as some kind of manual to answer our beauty and relationship questions, it loses spiritual value.

So the question is – what should we do? In answer to this question, Clark-Soles offers words of guidance, beginning with a chapter on the various ways we read Scripture, showing both the “promises and pitfalls.” She introduces the reader to premodern (uncritical), modern (critical, reasonable), and postmodern (questioning and aware of cultural influences) approaches to scripture. From there she turns to the various parts of the New Testament, beginning with the Gospels. She begins this section with a question of harmonization. Should we try to harmonize the four gospels, or let them speak for themselves? Her answer is to let them speak for themselves. In that regard she deals with some of the key issues, such as the people mentioned in the four gospels – noting that when we harmonize we tend to conflate identities – such as the various Marys and Jameses. She deals with genre – noting that the gospels aren’t biographies. They’re not eyewitness accounts and that the authors framed the story to fit their own needs. For those committed to a Modernist reading, whether conservative or liberal, this can be problematic when it comes to authority. It is in this context that the author raises the issue of the four senses of scripture – the literal, the allegorical, the tropological, and the analogical. The church has understood that there is more than one way of reading the text – that the literal may not always be the best way to read and interpret the text.

Staying with the Gospels, the author deals with the so called “Synoptic Problem,” that is the relationship of Matthew, Mark, and Luke (along with the presupposed existence of Q). She deals with all of the major theories that range from Markan priority to Matthean priority. She deals with form criticism (transmission) and redaction criticism (editing). In this chapter she deals with the current fascination with the Gospel of Thomas, which is a sayings gospel and thus quite popular with those who want to assert the priority of Q, the sayings of Jesus. She also deals with John, and its place in the conversation. She feels, rightly so, that John too often gets excluded from the conversation when matters of Jesus’ life get discussed. She believes that John may have more to offer than the reigning paradigm would allow. Her point is that we are at a point in which we need to reexamine this who “synoptic problem.”

With a new book from Bart Ehrman on authorship issues (I’ve not read the book, but the title seems to give away the intent – Forged), Clark-Soles discusses the issue of authorship, especially with regard to the Pauline texts. It’s not all that controversial to say that the gospels were written anonymously, because there is no name attached to any of them. The same can’t be said for texts such as Ephesians and Colossians, which claim Pauline authorship, as is true with the Pastorals, or with the two letters attached to Peter. The letters of John are largely anonymous, and Revelation is self-attributed to a John, but necessarily the Apostle John. She deals with all the relevant issues, including the reasons why many scholars doubt that Paul wrote the so-called “deutero-Pauline” texts, issues that range from eschatology to church offices. With regard to the question raised by folks like Ehrman, she notes the questions of whether this is “dishonest,” and whether the fact that Paul might not have written Ephesians might undermine its authority. She seeks to answer these questions by pointing us to the canonization process, and the role that this process has played in how we read and experience the text. She raises more questions than she provides answers, but that’s not a bad thing. It pushes us to dig deeper.

Finally, she looks into the Historical Jesus debate and the politics of biblical interpretation. With regard to the latter, she notes how in recent years there has arisen a plethora of differing ways of reading scripture, from Feminist to Queer, from Ethnic to Post-Colonial, each of which raises question about approach and ideology. If you think that one of these approaches is politic and yours is not, she suggests that we might need to look more deeply inside to discern our own ideologies. In other words, there is no completely “objective” way of reading the Text. We all bring something to the discussion. Even as the authors were “socially located,” so are the readers. With regard to this question of social location, she provides an inventory so that we can examine questions of authority, ethnicity, gender, theology, the translations we use and more, asking how these issues affect the way we read Scripture. And in closing she reminds us all that we all have our own “canon within a canon.” We all start somewhere. There may be no one way of reading Scripture, but as Clark-Soles reminds us - -there are responsible ways of reading Scripture, and she invites us to take up this task. Her book focuses on the New Testament, but remember that she challenged us to not separate the New from the Old. Thus, it would be helpful to read (as I’ve yet to do), her book in tandem with one written on the Hebrew Scriptures by Carolyn Sharp (Wrestling the Word, WJK, 2010).

This is with a doubt a most helpful book. It raises questions, provides resources (including questions for discussion), and pushes us to be more responsible in our reading of the text. If we will heed the wisdom present in this book (and I’m assuming present in Sharp’s book), then perhaps we can begin to overcome the prevailing biblical illiteracy within the church! Oh, and she does all of this in a 148 pages of text.

Unprotected Texts -- Review

UNPROTECTED TEXTS: The Bible’s Surprising Contradictions about Sex and Desire. San Francisco: Harper One, 2011. 343 pages.

“Family values” has long been a rallying cry of politically inclined religious conservatives, especially as the sexual mores of the American people have “loosened” since the 1960s. In the face of increasing acceptance of homosexuality, premarital sex, and divorce, “family values” push for the adoption of a “biblically based” sexual morality that includes a definition of marriage limited to one man and one woman along with sexual abstinence outside of marriage. The problem with these proposals is that it’s difficult to nail down a consistent biblically based sexual ethic. First century families, Christian or otherwise, look a lot different from contemporary family structures – even among conservative Christians, not to mention variety of family groupings and guidelines found in the Hebrew Bible/Christian Old Testament. So, whose family values should we embrace? Abraham’s, Jacob’s, David’s, Jesus’, or may be Paul’s? Once you start digging deeper into the biblical text the possibility of finding such a consistent ethic is difficult to find.

Jennifer Wright Knust has taken up the question of the bible and sexuality in her provocatively titled book Unprotected Texts: The Bible’s Surprising Contradictions about Sex and Desire. While the “contradictions” might not be all that surprising to those of us who have read the Scriptures with a critical eye, for many lay readers the questions raised by Knust might prove challenging at the very least. Since this is a book written with the educated but curious general reader in mind, one can imagine the conversations that will take place around the “new books” table at the local bookstore (if such a thing still exists in your community). That the author is not only a biblical scholar (Knust is an assistant professor of religion at Boston University), but an ordained American Baptist minister might be even more provocative to some. How does a person called to serve the church write such a book?

The answer might be found in common concern among religious leaders, including clergy and religious scholars – how do we respond to the questions being asked of us concerning religion and sexuality? For some the answer is simple – stick to “traditional values” – but for others this simply doesn’t work. As we learn more about homosexuality, for instance, it’s much harder to see same-gender relationships as sinful or unnatural. And as young adults postpone marriage, it’s harder to enforce prohibitions against pre-marital sex and living together outside marriage. It is in response to these dilemmas that Knust writes, hoping that by uncovering the complexity of understandings of sexuality in Scripture Christians and Jews might find answers to festering questions. The basic purpose in writing the book, according to the author, is to present “a detailed analysis of biblical attitudes and assumptions while exploring the reception of biblical narratives by later Christian and Jewish interpreters” (p. 16).

In taking up her quest to understand the various ways sexuality is understood in scripture, she makes it clear that in her estimation the Scriptures present conflicting perspectives on sexual morality, even though all of this is done in the name of God. As we take this trip through the Bible’s discussions of sexuality we deal with such issues as whether Jonathan and David’s relationship was homoerotic and whether the Song of Solomon envisions a premarital erotic sexual relationship. The reader will also look at the variety of ways that marriage is envisioned, from the polygamous marriages of David and Solomon, to the rather negative portrayals of marriage offered by Jesus and Paul. Then, of course there are the household codes that we find in Ephesians and Colossians. Sections of the book deal with body parts and fluids – looking into questions of menstruation, circumcision, and masturbation. Another chapter deals with the “evil impulse,” that is the sexual drive, which needed to be controlled. In this particular chapter Knust responds to the suggestion by Southern Baptist megachurch pastor Ed Young that marriages can be strengthened if partners have sex every day. Knust notes that such advice would run quite contrary to the teachings of Paul and his own interpreters, who sought to control their sexuality not free it up – whether within marriage or not.

Knust’s book is an interesting and intriguing read. She covers a lot of territory and does so provocatively. As I noted earlier for many readers much of this won’t be new, though personally I found the discussion in the chapter on “Strange Flesh” illuminating. In this chapter she deals with a number of issues that range from the Sodom Gomorrah story to the suggestion that the giants and “warriors of renown” were the children of unions between angels and human women. The latter isn’t all that new or controversial, but the suggestion that the issue in Sodom centered not on either homosexuality or hospitality, but the Sodomite’s yearning to mate with angels (that is strange flesh) was new to me and intriguing. She also deals with the question of the angels whom Paul is concerned about in 1 Corinthians 11. Paul suggests that women should be veiled “on account of the angels.” Could the issue be that the angels are watching and desiring these women? Remember too that the Corinthians were engaging in angelic speech.  Another topic that many will find intriguing and challenging is her comparison of the Jezebel and Esther stories.  One is condemned for being a foreign woman who leads her husband astray (Jezebel), while the other is a Jewish woman (Esther) who leads her foreign husband to do what is right.  Both play similar roles, but one is commended and the other is not.  It is, therefore, a matter of perspective!

The book is, as noted earlier, intriguing and at times illuminating, but it is also frustrating. At times it seems as if we’re being given only two choices when it comes to reading scripture. You have to choose between either biblical literalism or biblical minimalism. As is often true of the broadsides written by folks like John Spong and Bart Ehrman (his blurb graces the front cover) there doesn’t seem to be any middle ground. Thus, although I find the “strange flesh” explanation for the Sodom story to be intriguing, I’m not sure I’m ready to jettison the idea that the problem is one of breaking the code of hospitality. Another conversation point has to do with Paul’s attitude toward sex (pp. 81ff). Although Paul prefers celibacy, I’m not convinced that this makes him anti-sex or that marriage is the second best option for controlling sexual desire. In addition, while I’m in agreement that there isn’t a consistent sexual ethic present, I wish there was more attention given to how we might make use of the biblical story/stories to construct appropriate sexual ethics in the present age. The author herself affirms that while the Bible is not perfect it is beautiful, “particularly when we do not try to force it to mean just one thing” (p. 247).

My conclusion is that Knust’s book is far from perfect.  First, I'm not always clear who the intended audience is.  There are points at which she gives some rather remedial directives as to the context of a story, while at other points going into rather deep detail in topics that require more background.  While she raises lots of important questions about the role of sexuality and family in the biblical story, often in provocative ways, I wish she had given more guidance as to how we might make sense of this diversity in creating a sexual ethic that is appropriate for this age.  Yes, there is great variety in the text, which seems to offer permission for variety of expressions in the modern age.  But, how does one discern what is appropriate and what is not when it comes to sexuality?  Although, the book is a helpful conversation starter that may serve as necessary antidote to the proof-texting methods of the "family values" crowd, but I was left wanting more. 

Offered as part of the TLC Book Tour. 

Papias and the Mysterious Menorah -- A Review

PAPIAS AND THE MYSTERIOUS MENORAH: The Third Art West Adventure. By Ben Witherington III and Ann Witherington. Eugene: Pickwick Publications. 262 pages.

It’s interesting that leading biblical scholars have recently taken to writing novels, apparently with an eye to communicating their ideas to a wider audience that’s more likely to read a novel than an academic monograph. Marcus Borg did it with his Putting Away Childish Things (Harper One, 2010), a book I reviewed for the Christian Century. In that book Borg shares his own progressive/liberal view of religion and biblical studies. Unknown to me at the time, Ben Witherington, a professor at Asbury Theological Seminary, together with his wife Ann, a biology professor at Asbury College, has done much the same thing – only they have written a trilogy of books with an archaeological adventure theme. Considering that Ben Witherington has been a strong critic of the Jesus Seminar, of which Borg is a founding member, it shouldn’t surprise readers that his novel takes a rather different approach to biblical history than does Borg. Whereas Borg’s novel offers a progressive/liberal perspective, the Witheringtons’s book is clearly evangelical in its orientation. The two together provide an interesting contrast in perspectives.

I was asked to review the third Art West Adventure by the authors’ publicist, which I agreed to do even though I’d not having read the previous two installments. Doing so may be a bit like watching Revenge of the Jedi without watching the previous two installments of the Star Wars series, but since I’d read Borg’s volume, I thought it worth looking at something written by one of Borg’s leading critics.

Taking up this task, I encountered a book with three primary threads that the authors attempt to weave together – sometimes successfully and at other times less so. Early on in the book the authors deal with the threads in alternating chapters, which is rather typical of a novel, but it can also be distracting. In this case, there was one thread that seems to continue a story line from the previous volume, but which doesn’t connect well with the other two threads. This line of thought concerns a Charlotte Bobcat basketball player who is a Palestinian Christian, who had been a Muslim involved with Hamas, and who after conversion changes his name from Ishmael to Yakov, and ends up facing revenge for his rejection of Islam and Hamas. Oh, and Jake the Cat Arafat is boarding with Art West’s mother in North Carolina. I’m not too sure how this thread advanced the story line, but each reader will have to decide if it’s germane or not.

Leaving aside this particular story line, the primary focus of the novel concerns two important archaeological finds that are alluded to in the book’s title. . The first thread concerns an archaeological dig in Turkey that involved the figure of Art West, an American Methodist evangelical biblical scholar/archaeologist (a sort of Christian Indiana Jones – and yes reference to Indiana Jones is made in the book). The dig is located at Hierapolis, a center of Greco-Roman religion and early Christian prophetic enthusiasm. It focuses on Papias, a rather obscure 2nd Century CE bishop, whose references to the traditional authorship of the Gospels are found in the work of Eusebius. One of the features of this story seems to be Witherington’s desire to lift up the possibility that the gospels aren’t anonymous documents, but carry the identities of their actual authors – though he attributes the identity of the Beloved Disciple to Lazarus and not John the Apostle. Papias is, according to this story, a chiliast – a strong believer in the coming millennium, whose theology is directly influenced by the author of the Book of Revelation.

Any good novel needs a bit of romantic tension, and the Witheringtons provide it in the form of an attractive secular Turkish archaeologist named Dr. Marissa Okur. The confirmed bachelor who is now in his 50s develops feelings for his younger colleague who is leader of the dig, which raises the jealousy of another Turkish colleague, who will engage in some mischievous actions designed to either rid himself of his American rival or take credit for a major discovery. Of course, the question will be – are these to be unrequited feelings or not? And, of course, as an evangelical Christian, Art is concerned about being “unequally yoked.” You will have to read the book to find out how this tension will be resolved.

This discovery is the house of Bishop Papias, a domicile that provides important clues to the bishop’s theology and confirmation of theories of authorship and transmission of scripture, for in this house is found manuscripts of a long lost series of volumes that interpret the gospels and speak of their transmission – the volumes that Eusebius quotes from two centuries later. Here is a major find that would revolutionize our understandings of the Christian faith (if this were fact and not fiction).

The second thread that is mentioned in the title concerns a Menorah that is owned by a Muslim antiquities dealer. Having been purchased several decades earlier, the owner, Kahlil Said, has decided to give the menorah to Jewish friends, the bride to be being an archaeologist in her own right, as a wedding present. But first he must prove that he has properly obtained this menorah to the Israeli Antiquities Agency, and in the course of proving this, he discovers the presence of two pieces of paper, both of which appear to be ancient, and are hidden within the hollow core of the menorah. Both pieces of paper will prove intriguing and even dangerous. What is discovered is that this is no ordinary menorah. Not only was it ancient, it appears to have come from Herod’s Temple, making it the oldest menorah known and the only artifact known to exist from that Temple. Needless to say that when the wedding occurs, the menorah isn’t the present – but the intrigue that goes with discovering the nature of its existence proves to be an adventure in itself.

Since this is a review of a novel, I’ll leave the rest of the details of the story line to one’s imagination. As I noted in my review of the Borg book, I’m not much of a reader of novels, and so I’m not the best judge of literary style, but I know what I like. I did find this novel to have a degree of movement and adventure that wasn’t present in the more sedentary Borg novel. It is a pretty good tale that moves along fairly quickly. The inclusion of quotations in the Greek may be off-putting to some, but fortunately the authors provide translation – though perhaps the presence of the actual Greek in the text really isn’t needed to carry the story along. And, depending on your starting point you may find the little evangelicalism – like concern for being “unequally yoked” endearing or perhaps a little silly. I found some of these statements a bit odd considering that they supposedly come from the lips of a distinguished biblical scholar, but perhaps that’s due to my having been absent from the evangelical mainstream for some time.

Even as Borg attempted to lay out his view of a metaphorical interpretation of the biblical text, the Witherington book seems to be offering an imaginative rendering of a very traditional view of the transmission of scripture. Perhaps this is an area of conversation that needs further development, for it is a much more conservative view than I learned at Fuller and taught at the Bible college that employed me. What, I wonder is the rationale for such an interpretation of authorship, other than the assumption that if written by eyewitnesses or those who heard the story of Jesus from eyewitnesses gives these texts greater authority in a skeptical age. Due to the nature of this genre these questions are left hanging, but perhaps that’s the purpose – opening up a conversation about the importance of authorship to authority.

Although this isn’t Hemingway or even Dan Brown, it’s an interesting story that raises interesting historical questions in a “novel” way. And if you need another view than mine, consider that of Richard Baukham, who says of the book – on the back cover -- that each of these “archaeological thrillers is more enthralling than the last.” Baukham may be a bit biased, as the book is dedicated to him and he is mentioned as an authority, I think it’s worth considering his esteemed judgment (especially since I’ve not read the previous two installments). As I noted in my review of the Borg volume, Jesus scholars understand better than most the value of story in communicating ideas. The Witherington’s, like Borg, should be commended for picking up this genre. Writing novels isn’t, I expect, as easy as some might think. And they do a commendable job, making this a book worth reading.

Which God did Jesus Incarnate?

I hope that the title/question got your attention and got you thinking? 

Advent is quickly fading into Christmas.  This Sunday I'll be preaching from Matthew 1, Matthews version of the announcement of Jesus' birth, and we'll sing more Christmas than Advent hymns.  But as we prepare ourselves for the Feast of Christmas, a day on which we not only exchange presents and enjoy a hearty meal, but consider that God has become present to and with us in Jesus Christ, what we call incarnation, enfleshment, what is the nature of this God?

This is a significant question raised by John Dominic Crossan in his recent book on the Lord's Prayer that is entitled The Greatest Prayer: Rediscovering the Revolutionary Message of The Lord's Prayer (personal note, my book on the Lords' Prayer that is just coming available tracks in similar directions as Crossan regarding the prayer).   Near the close of the book, Crossan notes that the biblical story portrays God in both violent and non-violent ways, and quite correctly he notes that this isn't an OT/NT divide.  Because there are these two very stark differences in portrayals of God in both Testaments, we have to make a choice.  As we look at Jesus, what kind of God does he incarnate?  

Crossan writes:  

Confronted, as we are, by tandem visions of both a nonviolent and a nonviolent God throughout our Bible, we simply ask ourselves another question.  Is Christ the incarnation and revelation of a nonviolent or a violent God?  Since Jesus the Christ was clearly nonviolent (thank you at least for that correct judgment, Pilate), we Christians are called to believe in a nonviolent God.  (The Greatest Prayer, p. 187).

As we get ready to celebrate the feast of the Incarnation, we're posed with a serious question, and the way we answer that question will likely have important implications as to how we live out our faith. 

 

Did the First Christians Worship Jesus? -- A Review

DID THE FIRST CHRISTIANS WORSHIP JESUS?  The New Testament Evidence.  By James D. G. Dunn.  Louisville: WJK Press, 2010.  viii + 168 pp.

    If popular hymnody was to be the guide to answering the question posed in the title of this book by British New Testament scholar James Dunn, the answer would appear to be yes.  The assumptions that underlie the doctrine of the Trinity would also lead us toward a similar answer.  After all, according to the creeds Jesus is divine, and if Jesus is divine then shouldn’t we worship him?   Complicating this conversation is the assumption that the Christian faith is monotheistic, and if Judaism offers guidance as to what that involves, then doesn’t worship of Jesus distract us from the worship of God – whom many Christians name Father?   The question that Dunn seeks to answer in this relatively brief book concerns the New Testament evidence.  If one attends to this evidence, what are we to conclude? 

    Dunn notes that this discussion not only has implications for Christians, but it also has implications for interfaith dialog, especially with Jews and Muslims who have a much more straightforward monotheism. 

    To regard Jesus as divine, as worthy of worship as God, seems to them an obvious rejection of the oneness of God, more a form of polytheism than a form of monotheism (p. 1).

The doctrine of the Trinity, which is the traditional answer to this dilemma is not only baffling to our monotheist friends, but it is a bit baffling to many Christians as well.  Words like essence, substance, and even person make little sense outside their Greek philosophical foundations.  Whatever theological answers have emerged over time, as Christians have wrestled with and reflected upon the biblical witness, a satisfactory answer to the question of whether worship should be given to Jesus requires us to attend to the New Testament evidence. 

    Our ability to offer an answer to the question of whether the first Christians worshiped Jesus requires us to first define what worship is.  A basic definition assumes that reverence or praise is being given to a god or God.   Even here, however, there are complications because the word worship is often used in ways that diverge from that basic definition.  In England judges, for instance, are referred to as “Your Worship.”  Surely judges aren’t gods.  And the Book of Common Prayer uses the word worship in the context of the marriage ceremony in reference to the relationship of the husband to wife.  Being that he is a biblical scholar Dunn takes the reader on a tour through the words used for worship in the New Testament, including proskynein and its relatives.  Used to refer to deference to higher authority, submission, and worship – it is used in relationship to beings other than God.  Although used in relationship to Jesus, the number of cases are few, and the clearest use comes in Revelation.  There are a number of other terms that can mean to give praise, to worship, that have references both to God or to Jesus, but none of these usages are conclusive. 

    Dunn concludes that while there are intriguing pieces of evidence of usage that suggest worship of Jesus, these usages are limited.  When used these words most often show wonderment at the “realization that God had raised Jesus from the dead, and in some of the worship offered to the Lamb in the visions of the seer of Revelation” (p. 27).  There is no evidence at all of cultic/liturgical worship of Jesus, and the most commonly used words for praise and thanksgiving are never applied to Jesus.  Instead, thanks is given to God for what Jesus has done.

    If there is little language usage that suggests direct worship of Jesus, the accounts of religious practice of the early Christians are not suggestive of direct worship either.  As for prayer, it is almost always directed toward God, and of course, Jesus himself is depicted as praying to God.  The early Christians invoked Jesus’ name and prayed in his name, though sitting at the right hand of the Father he could be appealed to, but does this connote worship?  Dunn isn’t convinced.  As for hymns, many of the New Testament hymns focus on Christ, but they’re not directed to Christ.  Instead, they give praise to God for Christ.  Clearly Jesus is central to the early church’s self-understanding – the church is described as the body of Christ, for instance, but does that connote direct worship?  As for sacrifice, Jesus is the one who offers sacrifice and is the sacrifice, but the sacrifices are offered to God, not to him.  The conclusion?  Jesus was central to early Christian worship, was the reason why prayers were offered to God with confidence, and was the subject of Christian hymns.  They invoked his name and appealed to him for help in times of crisis.    He was the context for worship and its means, but worship was accomplished through him, but wasn’t normally directed to him.

    Dunn’s conclusion after reviewing the relevant evidence is that the question posed in the book’s title is far too narrow and thus misleading.  The better question concerns whether Christian worship was and is possible without Christ.  Therefore, we need to pursue a somewhat different question: “was earliest Christian worship so closely bound up with Jesus that inevitably he participated in the receipt of worship just as he participated in the offering of the worship?  Was earliest Christian worship in part directed to him as well as made possible and enabled by him?” (p. 58).  If we are to move toward this broader question of whether Jesus is included in the worship of God, then we must also move toward wrestling with questions about the nature of monotheism and Jewish understandings of heavenly mediators and divine agents.  When we move toward this question many new possibilities open up.  The Old Testament, for instance, doesn’t offer as strict a monotheism as modern Judaism and Islam claim for themselves, and there are references, for instance, to angels who reveal God’s presence as examples of divine immanence.  Dunn notes that ancient Jewish theologians affirmed a double aspect of God, one that is both transcendent and invisible and one that is immanent, reaching out to humanity and the created order in a variety of ways.  There is, Dunn believes the possibility of a binatarian understanding of God’s existence even prior to the emergence of Christianity, one that would prove beneficial to the early Christian theologians – references, for instance to the Wisdom of God and the Logos of God.  Thus, while there was no thought of any being other than God being worshiped, Second Testament Judaism offered a context or atmosphere in which “the question of Jesus being worshiped could arise, and arise as a natural corollary to the status attributed to him, it had provided no precedent to which the first Christians could appeal” (p. 90).     

    In a lengthy fourth chapter entitled “The Lord Jesus Christ,” Dunn wrestles with the question of Jesus’ own understanding of monotheism, which he answers in the affirmative, but with the caveat that Jesus had a sense of intimacy with God that, in Dunn’s words, “the disciples could only begin to experience as they stood with him and came to God as Father in dependence on him, as though youngsters who found it possible to stand before their father only when accompanied by their older brother” (p. 101).  From there he moves to the confession of “Jesus as Lord,” setting the confession in the context of Jewish understandings of God and the important Pauline texts.  He then moves to the use of Word (logos), Wisdom (sophia), and Spirit (pneuma), seeking to understand how these terms came to be used in expressing a developing Christology. 

    In this fourth chapter Dunn takes up what he admits is the most difficult issue in the conversation – the occasional use of the word god/God in reference to Jesus.  If this word is used in relation to Jesus, and yet we are to keep from moving in a polytheistic direction with Jesus being a second God, how should these references be interpreted?  In answer to this question, reflecting on texts in the Johnannine corpus and elsewhere, he concludes that “Jesus was God, in that he made God known, in that God made himself known in and through him, in that he was God’s effective outreach to his creation and to his people.  But he was not God in himself” (p. 135). 

    So should Jesus be worshiped?  Dunn concludes, after a lengthy conversation with such contemporary figures as Larry Hurtado, Richard Baukham, and James McGrath, that we must start from the premise of monotheism, and that if Jesus is worshiped, it is in the sense that God is worshiped in and through him, but Jesus is not worshiped directly in distinction from God.  That is, we must beware of practicing what Dunn calls “Jesus-olatry.”  Like idolatry, in which the idol absorbs the worship due God, in “Jesus-olatry,” Jesus becomes a substitute for God, and therefore absorbs the worship due God alone.  Thus, it would be better to see Jesus as an icon, a window through which the divine can be seen and experienced.  The problem with worship directed at Jesus is that worship ends there and doesn’t move onto God.  Therefore, as Christians, worship is directed not at Jesus, but we are called to worship God in and through Jesus.  If we stick with the original question posed by the title, then the answer is no – the early Christians didn’t worship Jesus.  However, if we broaden the question and ask whether Christian worship of God is defined by Jesus, then the answer is yes.  Christianity, Dunn concludes, remains monotheistic, but its worship is enabled by Jesus and God is revealed in and through Jesus. 

    James Dunn has provided the church with an important resource that will help it come to grips with the place of Jesus in worship.  It also helps us better develop a Christology that reflects the biblical witness.  Dunn’s monotheism is Trinitarian in nature, but it seeks to keep things in proper alignment.  This is not a lengthy book, but it is demanding reading – not in the sense that it is dense prose, but because it demands much of us who are Christians to examine our understandings of God and the way in which we approach God in worship.  Thus, this is a must read book for anyone wanting to understand the place of Jesus in theology and worship.

Reading the Bible in South Africa -- Sightings

There was a recent dust up over whether the gospel included social justice.  A certain TV host/entertainer who has taken it upon himself to define what is the Gospel and what is not the Gospel told Christians to leave churches that talk about social justice.  Now, I must say that I'm guilty of this offense -- for I believe that deeply rooted in the Gospel is a message of liberation and freedom, not just in the next life, but in this life. 

In this Thursday's edition of Sightings, James Hoke, a M.Div. student at that University of Chicago Divinity School writes about how the Bible is interpreted in a South African context -- noting that before Apartheid ended the Bible was both a tool of oppression and a message of liberation.  The question then is, how is the Bible read today, in the New South Africa that was so much in the news because of the recent World Cup.  I invite you to read, reflect, and respond.

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Sightings 9/30/2010

Reading the Bible in South Africa

-- James Hoke

The 2010 FIFA World Cup demonstrated the unity and capability of the new South Africa. Despite doubts and negative press from around the world, South Africa rose to the occasion by producing stunning new soccer stadiums, making its streets safe and accessible, hosting big-screen match viewings and fan parties, and creating an environment that welcomed thousands of enthusiastic guests for an entire month. Even before the final match, the success of the World Cup could be seen in hundreds of vuvuzelas blasting in the streets. South Africans of every race united in support of their team, their country, and their continent.

Unfortunately, in the aftermath of the World Cup the problems of economic disparity which had been forgotten during the month-long soccer party began to resurface. For years politicians claimed that the World Cup would boost South Africa’s economy and create many new job opportunities. However unemployed women and men in kwaMpumuza, a township on the outskirts of Pietermaritzburg, complain that the World Cup had not improved their employment status. The majority of poor South Africans have not felt an economic boost caused by the World Cup.

In the face of large-scale unemployment in many townships, tensions have arisen between unemployed South Africans and refugees and immigrants from other African nations. In the days following the World Cup immigrants reported being threatened with violence if they did not leave immediately; they were told that since the World Cup was over, it was time for all foreigners to go home. Several violent attacks attributed to xenophobia were reported in newspapers. The government believed this to be merely rumors designed to discredit the country’s positive post-World Cup image.

People of faith in South Africa expressed outrage against the violence and the government’s response to it. On Nelson Mandela’s birthday one week after the World Cup ended, a large group marched outside St. George’s Cathedral in Cape Town saying “NO” to xenophobia. But the issues that undergird this outbreak require more sustained reflection and response from South African Christians. A critical question facing the post-apartheid Church is how the Bible will be read and interpreted in the public sphere. Despite the vast political and economic changes that South Africa experienced after the end of apartheid and the first free elections held in 1994, the majority of black South Africans who lived in desperate poverty before liberation have seen few changes in their daily lives.

During the years of struggle the Bible was both a tool of oppression and liberation. In the struggle for liberation groups found that reading the Bible and articulating their theologies from the context of life under apartheid fueled their political motivations. Post-liberation, many churches and groups have found difficulty articulating a similar message in a new context. The new government has publicly celebrated that churches can return to focusing on spiritual and moral concerns, leaving political and economic issues to the state. Lacking direction and resources, many churches have done just this, while other groups have ceased to exist.

How the Bible is interpreted in South Africa’s new context will significantly influence the long-term outcomes of the economic issues previously described. If the Bible is only read for moral guidance on spiritual issues, then these questions will dominate public discourse while economic disparity will continue to be ignored.

One method of reading that seeks to confront these issues is the method of Contextual Bible Studies, developed by Gerald West, a biblical scholar at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in Pietermaritzburg. Taking a common interest and respect for biblical texts as a starting point, socially engaged biblical scholars like West read with poor and marginalized communities, empowering them to read and interpret the Bible from their own experiences. Reading from their own context allows readers to articulate their own theologies that represent the liberating message of the Bible (often in economic, in addition to spiritual, terms) instead of only espousing inherited interpretations that do not apply to the current context. This process begins to make readers aware of their own interpretation skills and empowers them with the confidence to act for change. The Bible’s message can be a catalyst for new and creative actions which could allow South African Christians to confront problems of poverty, unemployment, and xenophobia in the public sphere.

References


Celia W. Dugger, “Wage Laws Squeeze South Africa’s Poor.” The New York Times, September 26, 2010.

Gerald West.The Academy of the Poor: Towards a Dialogical Reading of the Bible. Pietermaritzburg: Cluster Publications, 2003.

Gerald West. “Kairos 2000: Moving Beyond Church Theology.” Journal of Theology for Southern Africa 108 (Nov 2000): 55-78.

Gerald West, ed. Reading Other-Wise: Socially Engaged Biblical Scholars Reading with Their Local Communities. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2007.


James Hoke is a third year Masters of Divinity student focusing on New Testament and feminist/queer biblical interpretation. He received an International Ministry Grant from the Divinity School to investigate Contextual Biblical Interpretation in South Africa this summer.

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Sightings comes from the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School.

Should Jesus be worshippped?

I just finished reading James D.G. Dunn's book Did the First Christians Worship Jesus? The New Testament Evidence  (WJK, 2010).  A full review will be forthcoming, but before it get to it and since Dunn opens up the question, I'd like to throw it out there for discussion.   The point that Dunn wants to raise concerns whether or not the biblical evidence supports the idea that Jesus should be worshipped directly.  That is, does the New Testament provide evidence that Jesus was worshipped as an entity separate from the Father, or is Jesus the locus by whom and through worship of God is maintained.  The questions are important ones because they have theological ramifications -- such as, is Christianity a truly monotheist religion?  

As a teaser I want to provide a quote from Dunn so you can ponder the question more fully.

That Jesus was central to early Christian worship is not to be doubted.  He was the reason why their prayers could be offered with confidence and the principle subject of their hymns.  It was his name they invoked; they appealed to him in times of personal crisis.  And their praise of God naturally included praise of Christ.  He was himself the sacred space in whom they met as his bodily presence ('body of Christ') still on earth.  It was his day on which they met most regularly.  Their sacred meal was his supper, the key elements his body and blood.  He alone was the priest through whom they could now come to God.  His sacrificial death had dealt with their sins and opened the way to God.  Their entry into the divine presence was possible not only because of what he had accomplished (Good Friday and Easter), but through him.  (p. 57).

But does that mean that we are to worship Jesus separate from God the Father?  As you answer the question, what are the implications of that answer for the way we do worship?

Reflecting on a Weekend (of September 11)

Over the weekend many of us observed the anniversary of 9-11.  In many ways our remembrance of this tragic event was overshadowed by the hullabaloo surrounding the antics of an until recently little known Pentecostal pastor.  That the burning of the Qur'an got cancelled -- though there's evidence that others did it on their own -- didn't seem to put an end to the conversation.  But, by and large, most people agreed that burning the sacred texts of other faiths makes little sense.

What is more important to reflect upon, and something that has gotten lost in the shuffle of the controversies surrounding the Manhattan mosque and the pastor's antics, is the real problem of stereotyping and collective guilt that surrounds tragedies such as this.

There are somewhere between one and one and a half billion Muslims around the world.  The vast majority of these people have nothing to do with radicalized forms of Islam.  What we forget is that the largest Muslim country in the world is Indonesia, a nation that has elected a woman as its President (something Americans have yet to do).  The Indonesian form of Islam is practiced very differently from that of Saudi Arabia.  Shia and Sunni and Sufi are all different forms of Islam, with differing practices and beliefs. 

So, even as I don't want to be identified with Pastor Jones or Fred Phelps, neither do the majority of Muslims want to be identified with Al Qaeda and Bin Ladin.  It is unfortunate that Saudi oil money has led to the establishment of  Wahhabist centers throughout the Muslim world, but there are plenty of other movements out there seeking to counter it.  Islam may be in a period of transition, that is similar to what Christianity went through during the era of the Reformation and during the Enlightenment. 

So, as I look back at a weekend that was full of its highs and lows (as a SF Giant fan I was thrilled to watch my team end a road trip in a first place tie with San Diego and watch the Oregon Ducks win big in Knoxville, TN, but watch as the seemingly luckless Detroit Lions got robbed by a bizarre rule of their first road win in three years), I want to bring back to our attention the importance of working together to overcome stereotypes and misinformation about others.

I read a bit of the Qur'an yesterday.  I find some of it not to my liking, but then I can say the same about parts of my scriptures.  But other parts are very much in tune with what I believe as a Christian.  Like many Christians, I think many Muslims pick and choose what to emphasize and what to de-emphasize.  Both do what Scot McKnight calls "adapt and adopt."  In his book The Blue Parakeet, Scot offers this word about the way we read the Bible.  Is this not also the way the Qur'an should be read.  Yes, I realize that most Muslims tend to be literalists, but like us they do their own adapting, recognizing that not everything fits for today.  So, hear this word from Scot's book:

 

“When we encounter the blue parakeets in the Bible or in the questions of others, whether we think of something as simple as the Sabbath or foot washing or as complex and emotional as women in church ministries or homosexuality, we have to stop and think. Is this passage for today?” (p. 25).

With this word, let us commit ourselves to better understanding! 

A Good Enough Theology: Can We Learn from the Fundamentalists (Bruce Epperly)

Later this week a group of Christians will gather in Raleigh, NC to celebrate a Big Tent Theology.  Alas, I can't be there, but Bruce Epperly has been laying out what for him is a "Good Enough Theology."  To this point he has explored the Quaker, Pentecostal, and Evangelical contribution to the development of this "Good Enough Theology."  In addressing the question of the fundamentalist contribution, he addresses their concern for sound doctrine and attending to scripture.  In this piece, Bruce reminds us that we needn't be absolutists to be concerned about such things.  I invite you to engage the question that Bruce has raised.

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A Good Enough Theology:

Can We Learn From Fundamentalist Christians?

Bruce Epperly

Can progressives learn anything from fundamentalists? Most of us progressives would answer in the “doubtful” category or with a strident “no.” We take pretty much opposite positions on homosexuality and marriage equality, science, politics, scripture, and the quest for certainty. Fundamentalists claim certainty; we live in a world of possibility and probability. Fundamentalists live in a world of absolutes; we live in a world of change and relativity. Yet, a good enough theology, a theology with stature, is open to truth and healing wherever they are found – in the sanctuary and the laboratory, in prayer and pharmaceuticals, in Christianity and other religious traditions, in ancient wisdom and emerging faith, in the old time religion and open-source faith. Still, while we are in a very different place theologically, there may be a couple things we can learn from the faith of fundamentalists.

First, a clarification: fundamentalists are not as fundamentalist as they think! Fundamentalists, in spite of their, affirmations to the contrary, actually do interpret the bible – they interpret it through the lens of infallibility. Fundamentalists, in spite of their protests, also pick and choose in their interpretations and their judgments about scriptural authority. Like liberals, they believe that not all scripture passages are created equal. For example, fundamentalists may enjoy a good Easter ham and fundamentalist women cut their hair. Fundamentalists often work hard to minimize the universalism of some of the apostle Paul’s affirmations, interpreting them to apply only to believers, rather than following a literal reading of the text. So, fundamentalists and progressives begin on common ground – they both interpret scripture and emphasize certain passages – from a particular perspective not necessarily reducible to what can be found in the words of scripture. We all have “theological locations” and it is important to be aware of them rather than absolutize them.

Still, fundamentalists take truth and doctrine seriously and invite progressives to do so as well. Fundamentalists are clear about the importance of “sound doctrine” in shaping the Christian life. If we relegate doctrine to a matter of indifference, our faith will suffer. Sadly, in their quest for a theological big tent, many moderate and progressive Christians have downplayed the importance of doctrine and theological reflection.

The fundamentalist reminds us that theological reflection is important, and in this we can learn from them. We don’t need to be absolutists to take doctrine seriously. We can even posit a variety of doctrinal possibilities as elements in a holistic theology, even if some traditional doctrines are a matter of theological indifference to us. With Whitehead, I believe that our deeply held convictions about reality shape our character. Good theology shapes who we are and what is important to us, behaviorally and politically.

Fundamentalists remind us of the importance of sharing our beliefs with boldness in the marketplace of ideas. While progressives may take issue with what they perceive to be their sense of certainty and their strident tone, progressives can learn from fundamentalists that sharing the faith matters. Being a Christian – or a certain kind of Christian – is not a matter of indifference; it may be a matter of life and death, of meaning and meaninglessness in this life and the next. Progressives can recognize that what we believe about God truly matters and that we need to make known in the marketplace of ideas our theological affirmations about grace, revelation, salvation, healing, and God. We can be passionate about sharing our faith and theological vision, without arrogance.

Perhaps we all need a good dose of wonder (see Psalm 8): in the context of a 100 billion galaxy universe, each galaxy with a billion stars and a fourteen billion year cosmic journey, we can proclaim “how great Thou art” and do our best to live humbly and lovingly.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Hly Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life  . His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected 2009 Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy.

His most recent book is  From a Mustard Seed: Enlivening Worship and Music in the Small Church, written with Daryl Hollinger.

The People's New Testament Commentary -- Review

THE PEOPLE’S NEW TESTAMENT COMMENTARY. By M. Eugene Boring and Fred B. Craddock. Louisville: WJK Press, 2009. x + 827 pp. (Paperback)

Back in the late nineteenth century Disciples preacher B.W. Johnson published an annotated edition of the New Testament (with King James and Revised Versions in parallel columns) that carried the name The People’s New Testament with Notes. Being that Disciples believe(d) that each person has the right and responsibility to interpret the scriptures for themselves, it is not surprising that a Disciple pastor/scholar would create a resource intended for a lay audience. Now, early in the 21st century two spiritual descendants of B.W. Johnson have produced a commentary on the New Testament intended for use by lay people that carries on the spirit of the original. Originally published in hardback, it is now available in a paperback edition.

The authors of this commentary are distinguished scholars with a heart for the church. Fred B. Craddock is best known as a preacher, but he is also a very well regarded biblical scholar, having taught both preaching and New Testament at Candler Seminary as well as having authored numerous commentaries on New Testament books. Gene Boring may not be as well known as Craddock, but he too is a highly regarded New Testament scholar who taught for many years at Brite Divinity School.  His previous works include a commentary on Revelation in the Interpretation series, a commentary on Mark for the New Testament Library,  as well as an important historical study of biblical scholarship within the Stone-Campbell movement, Disciples and the Bible (Chalice Press, 1997). While both men are critical scholars, who bring to the discussion their years of engagement with critical biblical scholarship, they understand that the New Testament is also a sacred text that has great meaning for the church and for individual Christians. Because of their scholarly background and their spiritual sensitivity, both are highly qualified to lead the serious reader of the Scriptures deeper into the text.

Unlike the nineteenth century original, this book doesn’t include the biblical text, though it is based on the New Revised Standard Version. In addition to providing commentary on each of the New Testament books, the authors (without delineating who wrote which part) off a brief introduction to the “New Testament as the Church’s Book,” by which they mean that everyone within the church has access to the text and may read it for themselves. They note as well that by church they don’t mean a specific tradition or denomination, but the church at large, a church that wrote, selected, edited, transmitted, translated, and interpreted the text. In regards to the latter, they write that they “have called [their] volume the ‘People’s Commentary’ because we believe the ‘common’ people of the church – the laity, the people of God – are able and authorized to study the Bible on their own” (p. 5). Beyond this general introduction, they provide introductions to the gospels and to the Pauline Epistles, and a series of excursuses on topics they believe are germane to the reader. These excursuses are scattered throughout the volume and cover such issues and the interpretation of the resurrection, reflections on doctrines such as predestination and the practice of the Lord’s Supper.

Special attention might be given to one specific excursus that originally appeared in Boring’s Disciples and the Bible. It is entitled “The Biblical Story as a Drama in Five Acts.” Although Boring doesn’t mention it here, the idea of a five-act drama borrowed from an evangelistic tool used by one of the Disciples founders, Walter Scott. Scott used what he called the five-fingered exercise to teach his version of the way of salvation. Boring borrowed the exercise and laid out a brief and memorable summary of the biblical story – Creation (Genesis 1-11) Covenant (Genesis 12-Malachi 4), Christ (Matthew-John), Church (Acts-Jude) and Consummation (Revelation). Boring created this little mnemonic device as a way of breaking the spell of biblical illiteracy that infects our churches. Using this little device, people have a basic outline upon which to hang the biblical story. Attending to this excursus, which the author’s placed within their Ephesians commentary will pay great dividends.

This is a text that should be in every church library, on the desk of every pastor, and of course sitting nearby one’s Bible – at home. The Protestant Reformation delivered the Bible to the people in the vernacular. It was believed that the people had the right and responsibility to deal with the text of Scripture. History and experience demonstrate that while the individual has this right, we all need good instructors and guides to the text. I can name no better or more up-to-date text than this. And, because it’s now in paperback, it is quite affordable.

The Left Behind Fantasy -- Review

THE LEFT BEHIND FANTASY: The Theology Behind the Left Behind Tales. By William Powell Tuck. Eugene, OR: Resource Publications, 2010. xiv +157 pp.

Whether you’ve read them or not, it’s likely you’ve seen or at least heard of the twelve volume Left Behind series of Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins. In this series of books, a full-blown exposition of Dispensational understandings of the end of the ages is laid out – in fictional form. If you’re well-versed in Dispensationalism, perhaps from reading Hal Lindsey’s Late Great Planet Earth, you’ll understand to what the series title is referring. It is the story of what happens to those left behind when Jesus returns and snatches up the saints of God. For seven crazy years the anti-Christ reigns supreme. But according to this scenario, some of those left behind figure things out and come to Jesus and fight to defend themselves, even as they seek to win others to the faith – in anticipation of another return.

I must say, up front, that I’ve not read the books – though I have handled them on occasion at Costco. William Tuck, a retired Baptist pastor and author, on the other hand, has gone the extra step of actually reading these books. Indeed, he has read these books very carefully, along with other books on similar topics that have been written by the primary author (Tim LaHaye), in the hope of understanding both their appeal and their message.

What Tuck discovers is that there is a reason why they’re popular. They’re a good read – having lots of intrigue, violence, and even at least the suggestion of romance, all wrapped up in a Christian cover story. John Killinger, in his foreword speaks as well to the context into which these books have appeared. These are, he says, times that are “extraordinarily charged with the electricity of interfaith wars, heightened airport security, a parade of bombings in crowded international cities, and more recently, a nearly catastrophic global economic meltdown” (p. xi) Is it any surprise that many people might think these are the last days, and actually find a sense of hope in these books. Indeed, as Tuck notes in the book, the authors put the plan of salvation (a fundamentalist version to be sure) in each of the books. Tuck also notes that there is little evidence that masses of people have converted, but many Christians seem to have accepted this as the true and proper interpretation of the Bible. What he discovers in these books are a theology and interpretation of the bible that have dangerous implications.

In the course of a rather brief book, Bill Tuck introduces us to the plot lines, the characters, and the theology that is inherent in the books. Chief among the characters are Rayford Steele, an airline pilot who becomes a Christian, along with his daughter, after he is left behind. They help found the Tribulation Force – a sort of Christian A-Team – with Buck Williams (who marries Chloe Steele). There is Bruce Barnes a previously unconverted pastor – that is he wasn’t sufficiently conservative – who becomes the group’s spiritual leader and teacher. On the other side of the ledger there is Nicolae Carpathia, a Romanian President who becomes General Secretary of the United Nations, and then the Anti-Christ. Is it surprising that the Anti-Christ should be the head of the UN? Then there’s Peter Matthews, a Roman Catholic Cardinal who becomes Pontifex Maximus and head of the Enigma Babylon One World Faith. Finally, there are two Jewish leaders, Tsion Ben-Judah and Chaim Rosezweig. One is a rabbinical scholar and Israeli statesman who converts to Christianity, and the other is an Israeli statesman and scientist who assassinates Carpathia – who incidentally is raised from the dead.

Tuck not only gives the background on the characters, but discusses the background to this book – the books written by such noted Dispensationalists as John Darby (the founder of Dispensationalism), C.I. Scofield, Lindsey and John Walvoord, and explains the terminology that is found in the books, whether biblical or not. LaHaye suggests that his is the proper interpretation of the Bible, but Tuck makes it clear that the term rapture isn’t in the Bible, and the biblical foundations for it are thin (the closest text is I Thessalonians 4:17). Then there is the idea of a Glorious Appearing, a sort of second second coming, when Jesus returns at the end of the seven-year Tribulation, to set up his 1000 year reign. He explains how the idea of a seven-year tribulation emerged out of attempts to literally interpret texts like Revelation and Daniel. We’re introduced to terms such as apocalypse and millennium, the anti-Christ, the Beast, and the False Prophet. Tuck offers the Dispensationalist interpretation of these terms/ideas and then offers other interpretations – ones with more scholarly support – of apocalyptic and eschatalogical texts.

In the course of his discussion, Tuck introduces the reader to what he calls the Apocalyptic approach to those texts, like Revelation that seem to have a futuristic sense to them. It is this method that he uses to examine LaHaye’s theology of the end times. This interpretation, he suggests, represents the scholarly consensus view, one that insists that Revelation and similar writings must have been understood by its first readers. With that as the starting point, Tuck insists that the Rapture scheme found in these books simply don’t stand up to scrutiny. He writes:

Not only are their novels fiction but their biblical foundation for these tales is also fiction. No reliable biblical scholar, except a few isolated fundamentalists, substantiates their claims. Readers of these novels should be aware of this fact. Although LaHaye and Jenkins claim that they have broad support, this is not the case. (p. 70).

Tuck uses the relevant biblical scholarship to examine each of LaHaye’s scriptural claims and rebuts them. Particularly problematic in Tuck’s mind is LaHaye’s penchant for using texts that clearly speak of resurrection to support his rapture theology, including 1 Corinthians 15. There is, in the biblical record, only one parousia, or return of Christ and that relates to the general resurrection. Tuck is concerned that Dispensationalists have replaced the Resurrection, which is foundational to the Christian faith, with a rapture doctrine that isn’t biblical.

The interpretive scheme used by the authors is extremely literalistic, and yet this leads to some interesting interpretative gymnastics. What LaHaye fails to understand is that apocalyptic literature, which is highly symbolic, is not meant to be taken in such a fashion. His interpretations also fail to consider how these words would have been understood by the original recipients of the book of Revelation. In response, Tuck offers an interpretation that takes the words and the audience seriously.

Another important issue is the violence present in the books. At one point in the books, Christ appears on a white horse and “his words mow the soldiers of Nicolae Carpathia down like they are being shot with a rapid repeating machine gun” (p. 85). This violence, however, is part of the attraction, for the books have all the parts of an action series. But, the God who appears in these books is not at all attractive. Tuck writes that at times it’s difficult to distinguish the actions of God from those of the anti-Christ, Nicholas Carpathia: “They both issue out undeserved suffering on persons who either did not recognize who they were or were undecided in their loyalty” (p. 98). The reasoning is that God uses this suffering to get people’s attention, but is that an appropriate way for God to act? Does it stand up to the declaration that God is love? Does it represent the teachings of Jesus, which speak of nonviolence. And, while many Christians struggle with the idea of war, Tuck raises questions about the nature of this “Tribulation Force,” which “uses weapons of violence like hand guns and uzis, planes and helicopters, Land Rovers and trucks that blow up armored carriers and kill soldiers and utilize some of the most advanced technological equipment one can have to combat the forces of the Antichrist. While Revelation speaks of martyrdom for the faith, in these books the forces of God are an underground military force. As Tuck notes, the authors use as their model the Pax Romana not the Pax Christi. Violence, not justice, love, and reconciliation, is the nature of this vision. But then, in the presentation of judgment, God comes off not as one setting things right, but one who is vindictive – offering a choice between allegiance and punishment.

What is also missing from the books is forgiveness. Tuck notes that in this scenario, if you have the mark of the beast, even if you want to convert, it’s not possible. There is, also a rather negative view of the religious faith of anyone other than those who stand in their rather narrow viewpoint.  Catholics and more moderate to liberal Protestants are seen as apostate -- as are Jews, Muslims, and anyone else that differs from them.  There is, in this scenario, no forgiveness for them as well.

The books use fear as a means to an end. Conversion is the hoped for end, but it is not a conversion that stems from God’s love, but from fear of God’s wrath. Is this an effective tool for evangelism, Tuck doesn’t think so. In fact, the last chapter of the book offers an alternative way of coming to faith. In Tuck’s presentation, “authentic evangelism will show concern for the total person and will address the need for discipleship and the role of the Church in one’s spiritual growth” (p. 115).

Bill Tuck is to be commended for taking on a series of books that have garnered a lot of attention and have influenced the views of many Christians. He helps the reader understand, going into great depth, why these books don’t offer a responsible interpretation of scripture or view of life. In its place, he offers an alternative understanding of Christian faith, one that is truer to the vision of Jesus.  So, if you're looking for a book that responds to this series, this is a good place to start.