Monthly Archives: December 2010

 

Dec

02

2010

Trevin Wax|3:44 am CT

Small Faith, Great God: Wright's Early View on Virtue
Small Faith, Great God: Wright's Early View on Virtue avatar

This is the final post in a series exploring the connections between N.T. Wright’s 1978 book, Small Faith, Great God, (recently rereleased by IVP) and his current writings. We’ve already looked at the early signs of the justification debate, Wright’s early view of the atonement, and the contrast between his early and late writings on heaven.

Today, we look at Wright’s early understanding of Christian morality and how the seeds for his later view of virtue are planted early on. Most fascinating to me is Wright’s distinction between good and bad hypocrisy. Note what he writes in 1978:

There are some things the world calls hypocrisy which are inevitable for the Christian. They are even to be welcomed… One of the things the world calls hypocrisy is doing things we do not really want to do at the time. Unless we really want to do it, we are hypocritical if we go through the motions… If God says, for example, we must pray regularly, then we must pray regularly: and one of the things we need to pray for is that God will bring our heart and feelings into line with what we already know to be our basic duty.

“Duty!” says someone. “Isn’t that just ‘putting it on?’” In a way it is. And if we don’t “put on” God’s holiness when we feel like being unholy, then we have guarded our sincerity at the cost of our obedience. That is why I say that there is a hypocrisy the Christian has to welcome. (96-97)

Wright goes on to make the point that we should not make sincerity an idol:

There is nothing wrong with the hypocrisy (so-called) that struggles to obey God’s commandments whether it wants to or not. In fact if we do not do that, then we are becoming Pharisees ourselves. We are setting a higher value on what others think (that sincerity is what counts) than on what God thinks (that obedience, or the desire and struggle for obedience, is what count). (98)

Either of these quotes could have been lifted from Wright’s recent work, After You Believe. (Wright uses the buzzword “authenticity” more than “sincerity” in his later work, but the concept is basically the same.)

In the three decades since he wrote Small Faith, Great God, Wright’s understanding of Christian virtue has deepened, but not changed. Then, as now, Wright ties Christian obedience to the good news that we are justified by faith alone:

Christian obedience is not done in order to earn favor with God; nothing we can do, not even our faith or our sincerity, can earn that favor. It is God’s gracious gift. It was the Pharisees who thought that they could earn God’s favor by good deeds. When we struggle to obey God, we are not doing it because we are trying to earn anything but because God has already accepted us, and so – as forgiven children of a loving father… – we begin to want to obey him. (99)

Wright includes a similar passage about grace-empowered virtue in After You Believe (pg. 60-62). Wright also connects virtue to the highest calling of the Christian. In Small Faith, Great God, Wright says: “The aim of being a Christian is – to love God and make him loved.” (131) With this purpose in the background, Wright connects law-keeping to love, showing up the defective nature of emphasizing duty apart from love. Here he sounds much like John Piper:

If a wife says to her husband, “Do you love me?” and he replies, “Yes, my dear. I do the washing-up for you every day,” that would only be a sensible or worthwhile answer if he meant that the washing-up was evidence of a love that in fact went far deeper. Love does not actually consist in washing up. But equally, if there were no such outward evidences, the wife might well wonder if the inner love was all it should be. (135)

Are there major differences between early Wright and later Wright in regards to virtue, sincerity, and obedience? No. In fact, I was surprised to see the consistency of Wright’s theology of virtue. It appears his early views have crystallized and deepened, but not changed over the years.

Conclusion

I’m certain there are other connections that curious readers could explore in Small Faith, Great God. The four issues I have chosen are the ones that most interested me. Perhaps curious readers can look into the emphasis Wright places on “the holiness of God” in 1978 or other such themes in his early work.

Overall, this book is worth reading and reflecting upon. Wright’s devotional thoughts are a combination of pastoral insight, exegetical precision and theological reflection. Even readers who are uncomfortable with Wright’s later theology will find they resonate with his earlier work.

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Dec

02

2010

Trevin Wax|2:24 am CT

Worth a Look 12.2.10
Worth a Look 12.2.10 avatar

A Counter-Cultural Quiet in Advent:

Many of us in the church live in the tension of this religious and cultural ambivalence. Our Christmas Eves are often a confusing recipe of ingredients like these: the onslaught of relatives, massive food preparation, stressful and boisterous dinners, hurrying everyone into the car, attending a hot, packed Christmas Eve worship service in which we light candles, and sing lyrics like:

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Then we rush home, hustle the kids into bed so we can finish wrapping gifts and stuffing stockings, because they’ll be up in five hours. Sleep in heavenly peace indeed.

You are who God says you are (is not Osteenism):

We are who God says we are. Does that sound like Joel Osteen to you? Whenever I say something along those lines, someone asks me if I’m not just dipping into the shallow dredge of self-esteem. But no. When I want to know who I am, I dip into the well of the external word in the gospel.

How will The Voyage of the Dawn Treader do at the box office?

Predictions are an educated guess of course, not a peek into the future, but here are some sites that offer predictions as to howDawn Treader is going to do.

Here are links to audio sessions of Jonathan Leeman teaching the contents of his helpful book, The Church and the Surprising Offense of God’s Love:

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Dec

01

2010

Trevin Wax|3:32 am CT

Small Faith, Great God: Wright's Early View of Heaven
Small Faith, Great God: Wright's Early View of Heaven avatar

This week, I’m taking an in-depth look at N.T. Wright’s new (old) book, Small Faith, Great God, published first in 1978 and recently rereleased by IVP. In the preface, Wright invites readers to tease out the connections between this early book and his later thought. On Monday, we saw how one can spot the justification debate in embryo in Wright’s early work. Yesterday, we looked at the development of Wright’s view of the atonement.

Today, I’d like to look at the subject that causes the most dissonance between early and late Wright: his view of heaven. Even Wright himself acknowledges that his regular readers will notice the disjunction. In the preface, he writes:

I realize, in particular, that my more recent work on the ultimate Christian hope (as in The Resurrection of the Son of God and Surprised by Hope) needs to be brought to bear on what I say about “heaven,” in, for instance, the final chapter of this book… But I don’t think that the emphasis I would now place on new heavens and new earth (rather than just “heaven”) makes much difference to the main thrust of the book. (10-11)

I agree with Wright that the absence of his recent teaching on the final hope doesn’t negatively affect this book. What surprises me is how quickly Wright downplays the distinction. Up until now, he has made the case that a failure to grasp and properly proclaim the truth of final resurrection is detrimental to the life of the church. In fact, Surprised by Hope presents a sustained case for the need to get our eschatology right – for the sake of biblical faithfulness, not to mention understanding the proper role of the Church in the world. So I find it interesting that, even though Wright’s own criticism of Christian thought that emphasizes “heaven” rather than the “new earth” as the final hope could be leveled against his early writing, he downplays the difference.

Here are some places where one can see the major differences of interpretation. Take a look at Wright’s early exegesis of Philippians 3:

To the church in Philippi Paul writes: we are a colony of heaven, and we are weaiting for the day when our citizenship there will be ours to enjoy fully. The church is an outpost of the city of God. Those who belong to the church are citizens already, and they look forward to the coming of the King to take them home where they belong, to give them in full the privileges they are already entitled to. That is why earlier in the letter Paul says that his desire is to depart and be with Christ, because that is far better than remaining in this life. This side of the picture is rightly at the heart of all Christian worship, not least holy Communion. We lift our hearts to heaven, where our citizenship belongs and where Christ himself is, and we taste here in our colony the food that is eaten in the mother city. And we long, naturally and rightly, for the day we will be there ourselves. (85)

Or this passage, emphasizing that Christians are not at home here on earth:

Here is the paradox of being a citizen of Jerusalem: because you belong to Jerusalem, you can settle down and even be of use in Babylon. It isn’t your home; it isn’t where you are going to end up at the last; but it is where God has put you at the moment… (86)

Now, look at the contrast between early Wright and later Wright:

When Paul says, “We are citizens of heaven,” he doesn’t at all mean that when we’re done with this life we’ll be going off to live in heaven. What he means is that the savior, the Lord, Jesus the King – all of those were of course imperial titles – will come from heaven to earth, to change the present situation and state of his people. (Surprised by Hope, 100)

And regarding our true home:

Being citizens of heaven, as the Philippians would know, doesn’t mean that one is expecting to go back to the mother city but rather means that one is expecting the emperor to come from the mother city to give the colony its full dignity, to rescue it if need be, to subdue local enemies and put everything to rights. (133)

Another passage gets a strikingly different treatment as well: John 14, where Jesus speaks of preparing a place for his followers. Early Wright says:

Jesus is promising the disciples that he will prepare for them places where they will be able to rest forever – where they will enjoy completely and permanently the relationship with him that has begun on this earth. (168)

In Surprised by Hope, Wright’s interpretation is quite different:

What does Jesus mean when he declares that there are “many dwelling places” in his Father’s house? This has regularly been taken, not least when used in the context of bereavement, to mean that the dead (or at least dead Christians) will simply go to heaven permanently rather than being raised again subsequently to new bodily life. But the word for “dwelling places” here, monai, is regularly used in ancient Greek not for a final resting place but for a temporary halt on a journey that will take you somewhere else in the long run. (150)

Regarding these distinctions, let me make two points. First, I believe Wright’s later exegesis is more accurate. For too long, the church has suffered from a muddled eschatology, particularly failing to properly emphasize the future bodily resurrection in the New Testament. “Going to heaven when you die” as the great hope of the Christian life does not do justice to the biblical hope of cosmic restoration. So I appreciate writers like Wright (on the scholarly level) and Randy Alcorn (on the popular level) who have reintroduced us to the resurrection-centered future hope.

But despite my agreement with later Wright regarding his view of heaven, Small Faith, Great God forces me to ask: How big of a difference does the proper understanding of eschatology make in our theology? It’s here that I think Wright may have overstated his case.

According to the preface of Small Faith, Great God, Wright doesn’t believe that his earlier (wrongheaded) notions of heaven do any substantive damage to the book. I agree. But this leads us to an internal contradiction. Most of Wright’s work on this subject presupposes that getting this doctrine wrong does inflict damage - even severe damage – to one’s understanding of Christian theology and our task in the world. That’s a contradiction that leaves Wright’s readers in a conundrum.

In Surprised by Hope, Wright points out older theologians, preachers, and hymn-writers who confuse “heaven” and the “new heavens/new earth”. But surely some of the talk about “heaven” throughout Christian history is merely a shorthand way of speaking of our final hope for God’s restoration of all things. The language of “heaven” is not bad; it merely needs to be clarified. Furthermore, Paul seems to celebrate the truth of heaven when he says that to depart and be with the Lord is “far better.” There is nothing wrong with living in light of the hope of heaven (yes, even heaven as the intermediate place before final resurrection).

I’m certain that Wright would agree that we can look forward to heaven, but I don’t sense that he celebrates the intermediate state – paradise – in the way that the biblical writers do (though to be sure, the apostles looked forward in an even greater sense to the final state). Those of us who are thankful for Wright’s insistence on “life after life after death” would do well to remember that “life after death” will be wonderful too, since we will be resting in the presence of King Jesus even as we await the resurrection.

Tomorrow, I’ll wrap up this series by looking at Wright’s early view of virtue and the importance of framework in his theology.

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Dec

01

2010

Trevin Wax|2:53 am CT

Worth a Look 12.1.10
Worth a Look 12.1.10 avatar

Classical Rhetoric 101: A Brief History

Humans have studied and praised rhetoric since the early days of the written word. The Mesopotamians and Ancient Egyptians both valued the ability to speak with eloquence and wisdom. However, it wasn’t until the rise of Greek democracy that rhetoric became a high art that was studied and developed systematically.

Moses’ Last Exodus:

On her final journey out of the slave South, Harriet Tubman meets with tragedy in her own family – but manages to save another.

Do you want to be a big deal?

If you’re driven to become a ‘big dea’l missional pastor (a celebrity pastor who will one day launch his own mini-movement to “save” the church from your pet peeve) or if you’re driven to be a part of a church because it’s seen as a big deal chances are you have an idolatry problem.

The internet turns kids into terrible spellers:

If correct grammar continues on a path to irrelevancy, children won’t bother to correct themselves, let alone learn it in the first place.

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