The Crossroads of Christianity and Culture

I was a young skeptic in 1978 when I took Charles Hartshorn’s Philosophical Theology course at UT. And he turned me into a believer. He demonstrated, at least to my satisfaction, that the concept of God was credible. One could believe in God and still fully embrace a then contemporary understanding of reality. Given that assurance I was happy to go on theology school and join the ranks of the clergy. After all, the church had treated me well and respected my skepticism. The story of the Bible rang true in every important respect; not in the sense of historically verifiable (I was a history major and knew how difficult that was). True with respect to the fact that the claim that Jesus was the Christ now made sense as a claim about the trinitarian nature of a credible God intimately connected to the natural and human world: more sense than either polytheistic or strictly unitarian claims. Relieved of my nagging doubts about God’s existence I could fully embrace ministry.  There was just

It amazes me that Christians call upon and imitate Israel’s prophetic tradition in the pursuit of social justice and reform. Because the most outstanding characteristic of Israel’s prophets is that they were failures at creating social justice and reform. Despite centuries (particularly the 8th century) of their witness before kings and commoners the nation of Israel ended in failure and exile. And when I say failure I mean that God’s experiment begun at Sinai came to an unsuccessful end and was never revived. The years from the Macabees through the Herods and ending with the Bar Khokba revolt ended up being the nails in the coffin. Yet they did spawn something unexpected, brilliant, and new from God’s hand: The Talmud and Rabbinic Judaism. As Christians we might call that a resurrection, albeit in a very different kind of body. But we have our own resurrection from out of the ruins of Israel to attend to, and we and the Jews must somehow learn to value one another as co-creations of t

My church, the United Methodist Church, but perhaps more generally American Christians, have been playing anxiety whack’a-mole for many decades now. I was out of the country for a couple of decades, but from what I can see the moles that have popped up in our Christian arcade are: LGBTQ inclusion, Biblical Authority, preserving the orthodox faith, adhering to church law, changing worship styles, mega-churches, millennials, the church growth movement, and many others. These are real issues and challenges. They simply aren’t the real source of our very palpable anxiety. They pop up and dare us to whack them down, but when and if we do that anxiety simply pops up somewhere else. And we haven’t really addressed them either. Seeing this I see a classic problem describe by family systems analysis: Free floating anxiety that settles out on different people and issues. These then become the third corner of a triangle and excuse those who are anxious about their relationship from addressing the

By far the least interesting characters in the Star Wars sagas are the emperors. With men totally committed to the possession of power there is no place for character development. You know they will never be good or do good, so the only question is whether they can be tricked and thus defeated. Their capacity for strategic thinking rather than moral reasoning is all that is at stake. Obi Wan and Yoda aren’t much better. They aren’t perfect, but they seem to be perfectly good, so again the plot for them doesn’t turn on character development but on whether and how they might make a mistake.  The real characters in these films, and indeed in all films worth watching and stories worth telling, are those who must make real choices about who they are in the midst of a definitive crisis. That is where the real battles are fought: in the complexities of the human person who is neither good nor evil, but is drawn in different directions by the complex variety of competing goods.  A film that pi

The unique value of revelation isn’t primarily what it tells us about God. After all, as Paul says and the human study of multiple cultures affirms (Romans 1:20), " For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.”  We can know and speak of God without revelation . Pragmatically this means we Christians don’t have much to offer to the philosophy department when it comes to God. Natural theology or philosophical theology can achieve their goals without us.   Nor is revelation primarily about human beings. The human stories in the Bible are wonderful and dramatic, but they are all ultimately variations of human stories found in many cultures and many books. The Bible frequently attains the status of classic human literature, the more so when it isn’t being mined for moral points. But there are other classics and if the humanities are p