Friday, April 26, 2013
A Theology of Wine
My granddaughter bought me a history book for my birthday: The History of the World in 6 Glasses.
Its about the beverages that have shaped civilization: beer, wine, spirits, coffee, tea and coke.
The book is funny, informative and easy to read. It tells the story of how the world's various civilizations have marked their territory with their favorite beverage and continue to do so today.
I was surprisingly touched by the chapters on wine. They helped me make important spiritual and theological connections between what I was reading in this book and in the Holy Scriptures.
I thought some of my friends might enjoy hearing what I learned.
First, this book tells us something we already know: that the various people who lived around the Mediterranean were (and most still are) members of a wine culture. It is not surprising then that wine is repeatedly mentioned in scripture. However, some of the cultural and social elements that developed around wine in the ancient world may be surprising, especially to people who do not come from cultures in which wine is important.
Here are a few particularly fascinating tidbits.
* The author, Tom Standage, says that for centuries, only the wealthy could afford wine. Peasants drank beer or mead. (A preference for either beer or wine still tends to be a hint of one's socio-economic origins, or at least the socioeconomic origins of his ancestors.)
* As time went on, inferior wine became available to the lower classes. Roman soldiers for example, drank posca, a sour wine that was turning to vinegar and which constituted much of their wages.
* At a feast, guests from higher classes got the best wine, those from lower classes were given poorer quality wine.
* Wine was nearly always mixed with equal parts water, or with even more water if it had been fortified for shipment. Since most people drank a lot of wine, the addition of water helped maintain moderation. There was another reason however: Greeks believed that wine was a gift from the gods. Only a god could drink pure wine without suffering bad effects. For a human to drink pure wine was an act of hubris. Because water was a symbol of humanity, adding it to wine was an act of humility and piety; a recognition that one understood his place in the universe.
These few facts about the role of wine in the ancient Mediterranean world sheds light on the New Testament passages involving wine.
For example, consider the Lord's first miracle: turning water into wine. Could it be a statement about how Jesus viewed social stratification? After all, he offered good wine to everyone. Even the servants at the wedding got the good stuff. This reading on the Lord's miracle would be consistent with the first sentence of the Sermon on the Mount, at least as Luke records it: "blessed are the poor."
Now, think about the Roman soldier who offered the dying Lord the poor wine he had received as wages. The Lord refused the wine, perhaps not with disdain after all, but in the same spirit with which David refused the water his soldiers brought to him. He was grateful for the offering but also showed his respect for the cost of the offering.
As for the water and blood that flowed from the Lord's side, I offer lyrics from an old Latin hymn:
"Cuius latus perforarum aqua fluxit et sanguine." (From whose side water flows together with blood.")
Think about what the apostle John says about the Lord's wounded side, or, perhaps, about his incarnation, or, even more likely, about both.
"This is He who came by water and blood; not by water only, but by water and blood" (1 John 5:6)
Recalling how wine in the New Testament so often symbolizes blood (John 6, for example) and the reference to the Lord's wounded side becomes a hint about how we should view Jesus as both human and divine. Just as wine mixed with water acknowledges humanity's place in the universe, so the incarnation of God reveals that divine life has been offered to us through the flesh of Christ.
There are too many theological implications surrounding the role of wine in the New Testament to explore in a blog. However, consider Paul's rebuke about how communion had gone wrong, in 1 Corinthians 11. He is upset that SOME were getting drunk while others were going away hungry. His rebuke is not so much about people getting drink, although that is certainly condemned here and throughout Scripture, but about why Christians would tolerate a community in which some were getting plenty while others were getting nothing.
The apostle James makes the same point: that churches must not give preferential treatment to the wealthy. This too is a reference to the wine drinking gatherings of Greco-Roman culture, where one's socio economic level determined whether he got the best seat at the table, and the best beverage attached to that seat, or received something inferior. At the Lord's table, everyone was to receive the same quality of treatment -- symbolized by the same wine at communion.
These idea about wine culture derive from what I have learned about how early Christians -- as well as others in the classical age -- invested their written language with many layers of meaning. Origin, in the third century, wrote extensively about this. So he is an important teacher for anyone wanting to understand how the early Christian writers, including the New Testament writers expressed their faith. Early Christians' interpretation of scripture derived from the Jewish form of exegesis, and this habit continued through the first few centuries of Christian history.
We sometimes miss a lot of data by merely acknowledging the obvious and clear meanings of scripture. Allegory and metaphor has sometimes been misused to make scripture mean whatever a writer wished it to mean. Nonetheless, early believers read scripture with all other scriptural passages in mind, and with an awareness about how other passages in the Bible suggested meaning for all other passages. This manner of reading was the habit of many if not most early Christians and so offers valuable information to those who study scripture about how past generations read the scriptures.
Of course, this form of exegesis should be use to hint at, rather than to conclusively determine, layers of meaning that a text may contain beyond the obvious.
When we read about the Lord's wounds in the Bible, 'side' means 'side.' However, in the continual self referring language of biblical discourse, 'side' may also bring to mind the fact that Eve was taken from Adam's side. The mixture of blood and water from the Lord's side may also bring to mind how and why ancient people mixed wine and water in the cup. These ideas may also impact one another, as they did for some of the church fathers.
When I read in this book that Greeks and Romans mixed their wine with water, not only as a form of moderation but to acknowledge the difference between the human and divine realms, I lead me to think about how that information might impact the way I read scripture. Given that water and blood came mixed from the Lord's side and, given that in the traditional celebration of Communion a celebrant also mixes the water and wine; given the echoes of the Eden story, in which Eve comes from the side of Adam; it is not a stretch to see why early Christians thought of the church as being birthed from the Lord's side -- through water and blood.
One can read the Bible profitably without understanding any of this.
Still, cultural background matters. Culture influences how scripture was written, how scripture has been translated and how scripture has been, and is, read. If an Evangelical reads a text written in a wine culture through the presuppositions of a movement influenced by the American prohibition, he may distort, or at least obscure, the meaning of what he reads.
Considering any vitally important part of biblical culture -- the role of wine, or of olive oil, or of monarchy, or, most of all, of the self-referring manner in which scripture was thought to echo and answer all other parts of scripture -- can only deepen one's grasp and appreciation for the divine text that has been offered to us through human culture.
The spiritual principle is that 'wine' is mixed with 'water' and then offered to all: in the Cup, in the Book, in the Church, and in the Savior of the world.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Why Should We Apologize For Our Faith?
The Opening Statements for
The National Religious Broadcaster's Conference
on Apologetics,
April, 2013
I’m sure you are aware that most
Christians have no idea what an apologist does, or why what he does is even
important. The first obstacle for caring about what you do may
be that so many Christians think an apologist is someone who is out
there apologizing for being a Christian. Language has evolved since
Christians first began to use the term, and so the original meaning of
“apology” has been nearly lost.
But you know that already.
The main difficulty for the Christian
apologist is simply that many believers think your work is not very
important.
For several decades, we have been getting
better and better at sayin less and less. We are now saying even the relatively superficial things we still say to a population constantly on information overload. To a sizable portion of
Americans, thinking deeply about much of anything has become daunting.
This is true of American Christians as much as for the rest of
society. As a result, the content of our faith has been eroding for several
decades now.
We need apologists nonetheless, to meet two major needs. We must
strengthen the believers’ intellectual structures of faith; and, we must answer
the honest questions of globalized, post-postmodern unbelievers.
The first task is as vital as the second. It will not help to
answer the questions of skeptics if Christians remain so unaware,
both of their own intellectual heritage and of the major questions of our times.
I realize that apologetics is supposed to
be about answering the questions of unbelievers. When a
Christian explains to a Buddhist, or an atheist for that matter, what he
believes and why he believes it, he is engaging in apologetics. You
are called to equip Christians to do that well. Naturally you
want to get on with your work. However, you are increasingly discovering that many believer do not know their own faith and are thus incapable of sharing the faith with others, especially if the questions get
too intense.
Explaining the faith to those who already
believe is supposed to be the work of catechists.
Unfortunately, catechists are an endangered species, like spotted
owls.
A catechist could tech us why ideas like
incarnation, sanctification, canon, sacrament and teleology have serious
implications for this life and the life to come. If we dont know that, or even
know the meaning of such words, we will have little to say to
an intelligent Taoist or Marxist. Scientific knowledge
alone won't fill the gaps in our witness created by the absence of doctrine.
What will it matter in the end if, after becoming certain about how human beings arrived on this planet we
still do not know why they are on this planet?
How can we be certain that the body of writings we now call the
Bible really come from God if we remain uncertain about the role of the human
beings who determined the contents of the canon?
How can we speak to the world about redemption if societies in
which believers predominate remain as plagued as they are presently by poverty, crime and other kinds of human dysfunction? Sanctification ought to
actually occur from time to time, both in individuals and in the societies
where believers abound if we expect it to be convincing to unbelievers.
These are internal questions to be sure,
questions that require much better answers than we have been giving for several
decades. If we have no answers to such questions though, it
is difficult to understand what we plan to export
to nonbelievers.
When we turn away from our own house and look around us, we face
other challenging issues. Among these are globalization, a term that
describes how representatives of the various human cultures are now scattered
throughout the nations rather than concentrated within well defined regions of
the world. Globalization, in turn, gives rise to relativism, so that the ethics
of Buddhism and Christianity for example, now appear similar even to the
followers of these two religions. The radically different principles underlying
the two faiths seem irrelevant, perhaps even trivial.
The basis of morality
and law is another serious challenge of our age and will remain so for the foreseeable future. Without a
firm foundation upon which to construct theories of politics or jurisprudence;
law, ethics, and morality become whatever any particular society at any
particular time decides them to be.
As more assertive forms of materialism emerge, they give rise both
to a newly energized and aggressive atheism and to a seductive all-embracing
pantheism.
One of side of our culture tries to extinguish our faith through
social pressure and perhaps even persecution.
The other side wishes to absorb us into a globally friendly
spirituality in which theology becomes poetry; beautiful statements about
ultimate reality that cannot be proved but which may, nonetheless, point to
some common human quest for transcendent meaning.
We are here because we care about such issues.
We believe that the creator of the world gave a group of
people, the Jews, a set of teachings about the nature of the universe. These
teachings reveal how one should live in God’s world. At a certain moment of
time, the creator also came personally to our planet. He gave instructions to another group, also Jews, to deliver His teachings
to all nations.
These are our claims.
If they are true, then our work is the most important thing in the
world. It means we hold keys that can unlock the doors of human meaning
and significance.
What a tragedy if, while claiming these things, we fail to study
the implications of what they mean to the people of our times, or fail to articulate them well enough so that others
can know them.
What a tragedy, if we fail to demonstrate the quality of life that
these teachings ought to produce in a people who follow them.
So I thank you for being here today. We are here together in God’s house. We
have gathered to ponder and reflect on a great treasure we carry in earthen
vessels. We are here to think about how we can deliver that treasure to
the household of faith and then God helping us, to the peoples of the world.
So no, we are not apologizing, at least in the popular way we normally use
that word.
However, perhaps it is time to apologize for not having a clear answer for the faith that lies within us.
If we can humbly do that, and then if we can move on to equip ourselves and the people of God with credible answers for this challenging hour, then our time together will be most valuable and blessed.
However, perhaps it is time to apologize for not having a clear answer for the faith that lies within us.
If we can humbly do that, and then if we can move on to equip ourselves and the people of God with credible answers for this challenging hour, then our time together will be most valuable and blessed.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
A Songwriter's Prayer
MacKenzie
Hollis is a young college woman in our church. She likes to write songs. Fortunately, she’s good at it. It’s not unusual in Nashville to run into songwriters. They're everywhere. Even now, long after technology made geography less important for
creating and marketing music than it had been before, people keep moving to
Nashville in hopes of launching a music career.
So its not unusual that MacKenzie
shared a lyric with me last Sunday, but the interesting thing is why it moved me to write a blog.
First
though, a little background.
Years
ago, when traveling to speak somewhere, people would often slip me a cassette
as they whispered something like, "would you please get this to Dolly
Parton or to Naomi Judd? My niece - wife -- brother -- friend -- writes good
songs but needs a break."
I didn't
always know what to do with these little pieces of dreams. The songs on the
cassette were usually not very good but they carried people's hopes and hope
must always be respected. Still, every musician or friend of a musician has had
this experience and rarely knows what to do with such awkward moments.
(Terry
Blackwood once told me that his career had taught him at least one thing --
that God was not a good songwriter. "Whenever anyone tells me, 'God
gave me a song,' I can be sure the world is not going to care much for
it.")
When
people write a song, they are nearly always convinced that it is a best seller
if they can just get it to the right person.
In the
days before computer recording programs, studios were expensive. But anyone
with cash could get their song recorded professionally complete with orchestras
and some great artwork for their record jacket. Luring amateur musicians to
record an album was no small part of Nashville industry in those days. I
suppose there are still garages all over America filled with those albums.
Alas, the
public didn't often agree with these aspiring stars about the quality of their
work. Even if the songs or voice had potential, there was usually something
lacking that kept that potential from becoming something truly great.
It is
hard to express the thrill of starting with a lyric and then watching it make
its way through crafting and production to become a great song. But it’s not magic, at least in the way most people think.
C. S.
Lewis once said that the difference between a professional artist and an
amateur is the amateur's belief that the raw product is the same as a finished
product. Amateur musicians, cooks, preachers and writers usually have a genuine
natural talent for what they do. Their talent attracts the attention of family
and friends because it does seem rather magical.
Sally's
little drawing of a dog is impressive because she is only five. If mom and dad
(or grandparents, most likely) praise little Sally, she may continue to
practice and improve. However, if Sally doesn't get professional instruction
from a master, her talent will hit a ceiling. She will remain, perhaps a very
good, amateur. She may be inspired and express passion through her art but the
product will, nonetheless, have a limited audience.
Inspiration
is a vital part of art, though amateurs may not know that
professional artists often discover inspiration for their work after, rather than
before, they begin it. We all hope we were conceived by people who were at
least somewhat inspired about what they were doing at the time. But as every
parent will tell you, parenting is about a lot more than begetting. Raising a
child is not always as exciting as conceiving one. So inspiration alone cannot
create a great work.
Anyway,
MacKenzie sent me a lyric. I needed some material and had told her so. A
respected Nashville producer had asked me over a year ago to write some music
for an album. Now, a concert is coming up -- on April 21st -- and I still don't
have all the material together. I pastor a church. I have a family. Its tax
time. And there are more excuses if you want to hear them.
Twenty
years ago, I was writing songs and getting them recorded. I loved the work and
spend many hours each week writing and making demos. Then a bunch of stuff
happened. I moved to Phoenix. My children grew up. My pastoral work increased
in volume and complexity. Somewhere along the way, my music nearly died. I have
written a handful of songs in the last few years, but that part of my life has
not received much of my attention.
Then
Steve Mauldin asked me to write some songs, do a concert and an album. He asked
me to do this because of a sermon I preached about using our gifts for kingdom
purposes. He remembered that I had one of those gifts and that I should
practice what I preach. I should offer my gifts to further the work of God
through our church. (All the proceeds of this project will go for eliminating
our church debt so we can get on with the mission.)
I've been
trying but there seems to have been obstacles all along the way. Meanwhile, a
concert and a recording project is days away. Little by little, I have gathered
the material as he has worked hard (and patiently) to bring it together and
make it presentable.
So,
MacKenzie sent me a lyric. It was already well crafted but she asked for my
collaboration to form it into a song. I read it and told her I would work on
it. That afternoon, I sat down at the keyboard and played a few chords, singing
the words, rearranging them, adding a phrase here and there -- suddenly I knew
what the song was. It was a songwriter's prayer:
May my
words calm the mind
And my
music bring some peace
May my
voice be the sound
That will
guide a pilgrim home.
Melody
emerged, lyrics became prayer, inspiration gave way to crafting and production,
and raw product began moving toward becoming a finished product.
There is
still much to do, on this song and on others. Some of them are still rough.
They are not fully formed, like the world over which the Spirit breathed that
was still "without form and void and where darkness moved upon the face of
the deep."
Artistry
is like that. Potential must be respected but its must also be coaxed out of
the formlessness void where we find it if it is ever to become stars, beasts, oceans and
fruit. The artist is not certain at first what all is there but he must keep
working, crafting, innovating, experimenting until something unexpected shows
its self and then takes control.
Of
course, when one is preparing a sermon, a hymn or a prayer, he is not only
trying to express himself; he is asking for divine grace to create a vehicle that others will use to express themselves. MacKenzie's words brings
that longing to a fine point:
Only you
can make us whole
O Creator
of the soul
But my
song can be the start
of the
healing of a heart.
I love
song writing. I have had the pleasure of hearing some great artists record
songs I have written. Songwriting has not been my central focus however, and so
I have remained an amateur. I have learned two things though through my limited
songwriting career: that the raw product is not the finished product, and, a
gifted amateur can participate in creating something truly wonderful if he will
allow himself to be guided by those who understand the art better than he.
All but
one of my songs have been products of collaborative efforts with people who
have studied, practiced and focused their career on music. They helped me take
my raw products and made them into finished products.
MacKenzie
sent me a lyric. I sang it until a melody emerged that moved me. Then, with her
permission, I rearranged some of the lines.
Steve will now do his voodoo and determine the rhythm, instrumentation
and all the musical work required to make this song something others can enjoy.
At the concert, some of Nashville’s greatest musicians will play
what Steve has prepared as I sing.
And then,
perhaps, the listeners will join in to make this lyric, which MacKenzie first
wrote as a personal reflection, their own heartfelt prayer:
As I
craft this simple rhyme
Breathe
your presence through the lines
So this
becomes a sacred time
That will
make my music Thine.
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