I attended a meeting last night of the music department at a church I sometimes help out at during big holidays. They have an annual (well, only two years so far) cookout at the director’s home. He asked several questions which piqued my theological antennae. First, what was your mountain top moment for the year? Your best memory of our music? Lastly, what do you think the our Brand represents? What does it say?

For me and several other singers who spoke up, the liturgies surrounding Easter were the highlights. It was mostly the same music that’s done from year to year, but something about it this year felt more engaged spiritually. Some people commented that the intentionality of the directors towards making spiritually connected music made its way over into the music we were all making together. Someone said that her experience felt less performative and more ministerial. This led to several people commenting that they feel more like ministers when they perform, trying to bring the congregation in to be part of the experience and trying to extend their intentions outward as well. Singing as ministry is founded in the scriptures, “Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts.” (Eph 5:19) Whether performative or ministerial, I thought about word bubbles, meaning spheres, and semantics.

Word bubbles came to mind when I was trying to articulate the dynamics of communication to my husband after we left. Whenever you say something to someone, their ability to understand you depends on a host of things like their ability to comprehend the words you are saying. Think of whatever you are trying to communicate as a bubble with a variety of meanings attached to it, floating around. The person receiving it has to choose one of those meanings based on their life history, how they’ve heard this phrase before, how they’ve heard you refer to it before, etc. See, they come with their own bubble around themselves with a variety of interpretations of what you’re saying. Only when these two bubbles intersect or overlap can actual communication happen.

My husband and I were watching old episodes of the Ed Sullivan Show over the weekend, which was such a treat. That was the definition of a variety show: A guy from Japan spinning a top on the edge of a fan, Leontyne Price singing Vissi D’arte, a dance group doing a tap number from Paint Your Wagon, Frankie Valli unironically singing about walking like a man, and of course, Topo Gigio. We were talking about Leontyne and how old she would’ve been during the performance, which was from 1965, when I asked, “How late did this show run?” Mike thought for a second, and replied, “No later than 7pm, usually.” I was asking what year the show ended its run, but Mike heard what time the show typically ended. Now we’ve been together since 2009, so our meaning spheres are usually very closely aligned. Sometimes we not only finish each other’s sentences, but we hear a phrase, connect it to the lyrics of some opera or Broadway show, and instantly start singing a tune at the same time. But in this instance, our context clues hilariously failed our attempt at communication.

Communicating in church through music comes with its own set of dynamics, as we all have our own received theologies, our own ways of interpreting musical expressions, and our own ways of receiving inspiration. As a cantor or a soloist, you have to invite the congregation inside your own meaning bubble in order to convey your meaning. This is easy to say, but nearly impossible to accomplish, which is where my pneumatology comes in. I believe that the Holy Spirit resides in the interstitial space between our meaning bubbles, bringing new meaning to old bubbles and old meaning to new bubbles. I believe that when the Holy Spirit is present, we can achieve levels of communication we never thought possible. Because as the body of Christ, we all have one thing in common: the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. This Spirit connects our hearts and our minds both internally and externally. The Holy Spirit is also highly active during artistic endeavors like music or theatre, giving us new insights we never before imagined. As the agent of connection, the Holy Spirit sparks communication between meaning spheres we can’t quite manage to get to overlap.

This does not absolve humanity from the responsibility of attempting to bring our contexts together, or trying to understand the way someone else is thinking before communicating. In fact, ignoring each other’s contexts is a guaranteed way to never communicate. This is why we must strive at understanding one another, and why social media has been so corrosive to our national dialogue. We hear what we want and assume everyone hears us exactly as we intend. If we get negative feedback, BLOCK. This is easy to do online, but much more difficult to do in person. We must all tap into the Holy Spirit, “In whom we live and move and have our being,” (Acts 17:28) as a way to forge new dialogues, ones that may be difficult and uncomfortable but ones that bring us all to new understandings.

Music is a fantastic way to begin the process, as it begins communication without words. Finding that combination of musical communication and liturgical communication can only be done by seeking out and allowing space for the Holy Spirit to act. We cannot force communication to happen, any more than we can force someone else to understand us. By allowing room for the Holy Spirit to work, we can see God’s kindom manifest on earth.

Matthew 5:38-48

Before I begin the gospel reading, I believe we need some context for this part of the Sermon on the Mount. First, the old saying “an eye for an eye leaves everyone blind” was not always so famous. For ancient Israelites, this meant a defined end to what could’ve been decades of blood feuds and retribution. Next, it’s important to know that Roman soldiers had the right to tell any non-Roman to carry their equipment, but only for one mile, and then they had to find another sucker to carry their stuff. And finally, it is of note that many Bible scholars believe that the author of Matthew may have been a tax collector himself, since numbers and math and order are very important to the construction of Matthew’s Gospel, more so than any of the other gospels. Remember that fact, as I read my personal translation of the original Greek, The Gospel According to Matthew, chapter 5, verses 38-48:

38 You have heard people say, ‘An eye in place of an eye and a tooth in place of a tooth.’ 39 I however say to you not to resist the evil one. But if anyone hits you on your right cheek, turn your face and give the other also; 40 and if anyone wants to sue you and take your undershirt, give your cloak as well; 41 and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two. 42 To anyone who asks from you, give, and if anyone wants to borrow from you, do not refuse them.

43 You have heard that people say, ‘You shall love your neighbor and shall hate your enemy.’ 44 I however say to you, Love your enemies and pray over those actively persecuting you, 45 so that you may become sons and daughters of your Father who is in the heavens; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48 Therefore you will be perfect, as your Father who is heavenly is perfect.

Let us not place a period where God has placed a comma; God is still speaking.

 

Matthew, Matthew, Matthew. You would tell us at the worst possible time in American history that loving our enemies is how to be perfect Christians, wouldn’t you! Not only that, but the word Matthew uses for the ones persecuting us really means actively persecuting us, as in, at this moment. Right now, someone is persecuting me and I have to pray over them. It’s absolute madness, isn’t it?

Ok, I just had to say that. On to the actual homily. So the common lectionary had us read this particular Psalm on the same day as this particular part of the Sermon on the Mount, I suspect to reinforce a particular aspect of Matthew’s gospel. You see, the gospels all have personalities, like people or iPhones. Mark is passionate and emotional, Luke is about the Baby Jesus, John is the theological one, and Matthew is the Jewish one. No, they were all Jewish, but Matthew is the one who’s clearly talking to/by/about/for Jews. Even the Greek words he chose suggest, not only that he’s talking to Jews generally, but that he’s speaking to Urban Jews more specifically. All of this is to say that Matthew constructed his gospel in a way that makes it clear he’s trying to give the Good News to other Jews in Palestine at the time. We can know this by comparing the stories Matthew chose to tell, against the stories the other gospel writers chose to tell. Scholars generally believe Mark to be the first Gospel written, probably the first generation after the Crucifixion, because of some comments made about the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, which we know, as an archeological fact, happened in the year 70. So Matthew’s gospel actually contains about 90% of Mark’s gospel. But, he made some changes. He cleaned up some of the Greek. He took out all the stuff about Jesus sweating and getting angry and any time Jesus acted as though he didn’t know what was about to happen. Whenever Mark uses the word kome, meaning village, Matthew uses polis, meaning city. But here’s the kicker: Mark explains some stuff. When he quotes someone saying something in Aramaic, he follows that up with a definition of the word. When he talks about a Jewish Custom, he either explains the custom or says As is according to custom. Matthew takes out the explanations. He knows his readers are either Jewish or are living in a predominantly Jewish city, so no need to explain.

This lack of explanation is good for economy of space and brevity of word, but when he gets to the Sermon on the Mount, I feel like you need a bit more explanation, right? You can’t just say, love your enemies and the ones actively persecuting you. So thankfully, after the Beatitudes, Jesus gives us a bit more explanation. We’re not supposed to love our neighbors only, because everyone is supposed to do that. Even the Gentiles and tax collectors know that much! Jesus is trying to reverse that though. We read this gospel along with the Psalm that says Teach me O Lord the ways of thy statutes, give me understanding so that I may keep your law. Whose law? Mosaic law, Levitical law, Deuteronomic law, Talmudic law, all the stuff that they’ve been following for centuries. God’s law, the thing that sets Israel apart from the nations around them. One practice of this Jewish law is called Binding and Loosing the law, sort of like the tales of Solomon and the baby with two mothers. Rabbis were often called upon to be judges of disputes, especially in situations where the Jewish law and custom was unclear because of how it interacted with a real situation. Rabbis would Bind and Loose the law depending on the situation. Binding the law meant that it was applicable to a particular situation, a general law applied to a concrete event. Loosing the law meant that following the word of the law isn’t what was intended, and although generally we should follow it, in this specific instance it’s ok to ignore. Good examples here are murder, which was often Bound, especially by Jesus. However, Jesus loosed the laws on things like the observation of the Sabbath, which the Pharisees were always trying to catch him on. Yes, Jesus said, we should observe the Sabbath, but not so tightly that we can’t take care of ourselves or heal one another. Teach me O lord, the ways of thy statutes, but give me understanding so that I may keep your law.

Which brings us back to our gospel reading. Jesus states a law, and then says, but I say the EXACT OPPOSITE. No more binding, no more loosing. We’re in new territory now, where it’s akin to a loosing of the law, saying that yeah, we know what the law is, but in the Kingdom of Heaven, things are on a whole other level. You need to act THIS way in order to get there. The meek will inherit everything, the merciful will be shown mercy, those who mourn will be comforted, everything is upside down. Richard Neibuhr, a legendary American theologian, called this the Transvaluation of Values. This is the crux of Jesus’s argument. When someone asks for your undershirt, give them everything. When someone wants to sue you, give them everything. When someone is actively trying to break you down, hit you on the face, ruin your life? Love them. Pray for them. Give them everything. Why? Transvaluation of values. Jesus is upsetting the turnip truck. Strength is found in weakness. Boldness can be found in meekness. Jewish custom said that the Messiah would come from the house of David, the warlord King, the commander of armies, Lord God Sabaoth, who would restore the nation of Israel under the might of his arm and crush the enemies of Zion. Instead, Jesus. A baby is born in the outer edges of some Roman colony at the end of the Iron Age, a baby who lives and breathes and then dies. This is strength? This is God’s strength: not an army of swords but a legion of people who love each other and their enemies more than they love themselves, who when someone asks them for a dollar they give them two, if they need a ride for a mile they take them two, if they see you on the side of the road and recognize you as their enemy they pick you up, bind your wounds, and take you to shelter. Do you hear this? It’s absolute madness! It’s a complete reversal of everything humanity had come to know before then and nothing has come along like it ever since!

I wasn’t telling the whole truth earlier when I said that the phrase Transvaluation of Values came from Niebuhr. He did use it a lot in his theology, but the phrase originally came from Nietzsche, famed atheist. He believed that Christianity was the scourge of the world because it asked humanity to value the weak and the pitiful instead of the joyful and strong, that Christianity consists mainly of a struggle against sin instead of a struggle for life. Instead, Niebuhr says, that’s not our weakness. That’s our FOUNDATION. Our laws go further than anyone else ever has or ever will towards creating a true Kingdom of Heaven on Earth, where the immigrant and the refugee and the queer and the woman and the poor and the disabled and the old and the unemployed and the frail, these are what IT’S ALL ABOUT. Loving someone who’s rich and healthy? Easy. Loving someone who hates you? That’s a Christian. Amen.

 

 

From the beginning of the Scriptures, the Holy Spirit was an active participant in creation as an active and dynamic force of wind hovering over the waters of primordial earth (Gen 1:2). This dynamic force of wind took many forms throughout the Tanakh, including the burning fire inside Jeremiah’s bones (Jer 20:9) as well as the breath animating the dry bones (Ezk 37:1-14). The Spirit of the Lord, the Spirit of the LORD, the breath of God, all of these point directly to the same rushing wind on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:2) filling the Apostles with the fire of the Spirit, the Pneumatos Hagiou, signifying the indwelling of the Holy Spirit in these Apostles. I was raised to believe that this event, the Day of Pentecost, was a singular event from which began the reign of the Holy Spirit on Earth. However, looking at biblical references from Basil and the Cappadocians, one can see a kind of continuity between the ruach of Ezekiel and the pneumatos of the day of Pentecost.

 Finding the Spirit in the Bible

 

The biblical texts show God the Spirit active on Earth from the very beginning of Genesis, but most non-Christians would likely see the Holy Spirit as first emerging during the flight of the Israelites from Egypt, the pillar of fire that protected Charlton Heston from the evil Yul Brynner in the popular movie The Ten Commandments. As theologians, we tend to think more of the Spirit of the Lord as both immanent and transcendent, not in such a fiery particularity. I feel it is important to note here that the Tanakh uses the word for spirit, ruach, in hundreds of different ways, but for our purposes there are two main ways: either as a sensible spirit of being, as in the Spirit that burned Jeremiah’s bones, or as an insensible spirit, such as a haughty spirit (Prv 16:18) or a Spirit of Hope. As Dr. Bedford noted in class, the Tanakh shows several examples of the power of the Holy Spirit among the people of Israel, divided into four groups: Creation, Outstanding Gifts, Prophecy, and Future Hope.

I see these four categories in two groups, where Creation, Outstanding Gifts, and Prophecy (which is certainly an outstanding gift) outline the Spirit’s ability to interact with the sensible world, either through feats of strength or ecstatic possession. For Samson the spirit of the LORD came upon him in a rush, empowering him to tear a lion apart. (Jgs 14:6) This spirit, which initially allows him to survive a deadly animal attack, becomes the instrument of his salvation and deliverance from the Philistines. For Gideon, the LORD spoke to him personally many times, mainly to give him military directions. Heron points out that the Spirit was very active in Judges, appearing in or with Othniel (Jdg 3:10), Gideon, Samson, and Jephthah (Jdg 11:9), as well as with Saul in First Samuel.^[1] In all of these cases, the Holy Spirit is active in the physical lives of humans, whether through military wisdom or super-human strength.

Future Hope is a more insensible, intangible Spirit, also endowing us with spirits of Truth, Wisdom, and Discernment^[2]. As the prophet Joel says of God, “Then afterward I will pour out my spirit on all flesh…even on the male and female slaves, in those days, I will pour out my spirit.” (Joel 2:28) For Joel, the Spirit of the LORD was present through the gifts of dreaming, visions, and interpreting those visions. Joseph was so deeply endowed with the Holy Spirit that even Pharaoh and his servants knew to go to him for dream divination. (Gen 41:38) All four of these categories show the Spirit as an agent of God’s change on Earth, acting to carry out God’s plans, creating, moving, giving power, giving wisdom.

This same Spirit was translated into Greek in the LXX as Pneuma, a word seen both in reference to a physical wind (Jn 3:8) as well as an internal spirit of self-awareness (1 Cor 2:11). The New Testament adds the definition of the Holy Spirit as an advocate, a paraklete, one who will be sent by God to be with us and guide us, a Spirit of Truth. (Jn 14:15-17) The NT has many ways of referring to this spirit, including the spirit of Resurrection (Rom 8:11), the agent that brought the gospel to the world (1 Thess 1:5), and the giver of God’s love poured out over our hearts (Rom 5:5). Heron believes these references show clearly the connection between ruach and Pneuma, saying, “These formulations capture and articulate a fundamentally new perception, in which the active divine presence, the ‘Spirit,’ took on Christian shape as the essential third term in the pattern, as the activity of God which is centered in and reflects Jesus Christ himself, as a second focus in the ellipse of divine operation.”^[3] Castelo points out that the entirety of the Scriptures in themselves are inherently pneumatological: “The reception and appropriation of this word must also be understood in a Spirit-related way, for the hearing and reading of Scripture as Sacred Writ can only be done on the basis of another work of the Holy Spirit, namely, illumination.”^[4]

Romans 5:5 recalls the verse in Joel where the Spirit is poured out, a physical action calling for a flooding of fresh, clean water over a desert, or a delicious caramel poured over a cheesecake. We are inundated in God’s love which is poured over our hearts by the Spirit of God. The Spirit is also that which gives us life, the breath of life (Jn 6:63). As Morse says “The Holy Spirit as gift, and the Holy Spirit as the Lord and Giver, commissions gifts that are described as the ‘fruit’ of the Holy Spirit.”^[5] Galatians outlines the fruits or gifts of the Spirit as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. (Gal 5:22) I do wonder about this list, as these are a list of positive aspects of the human psyche and are certainly not specific to Christianity. Sometimes it seems as though Christian belief is that these are exclusive to the Spirit of Christ, or that they can only be found in Christendom. I believe this exclusive attachment to Christianity has led to declaring many colonial and marginalized peoples as outside of Christendom, and therefore things like joy and peace cannot possible exist there. As the giver of all life, the Spirit is the constant and immanent driving force behind all of humanity’s daily existence. Life is not a machine that you can start and then walk away from. All life requires constant refreshment and animation in order to survive. This, I believe, is how the Spirit is the active and dynamic force of creation, life-giving, wisdom-giving, and hope-giving.

 

Finding the Spirit in the Early Church

 

It seems the early church was mainly consumed with resolving the situation of the divinity of Christ, and couldn’t find time for the theology behind the Holy Spirit until Basil of Caesarea, St. Basil the Great, in the mid 4^th century. During his time, Basil was tasked with fighting the pneumatomachians, a group of Christians who were opposed to worshipping and regarding the Holy Spirit as co-equal with Jesus Christ and God the Father in the Trinity. From his work, On the Holy Spirit, one can deduce that the battles he had with these anti-Spirit forces were both annoying to him (as he speaks as if their arguments are petty and legalistic) as well as confusing (as they applied different logics to different parts of their arguments where it suited them). In writing this work, Basil had to explain why it was not “innovative”^[6] that he prayed “Glory to the Father along with the Son with the Holy Spirit”^[7] in a mass.

Basil begins by arguing that the skeptics are being too legalistic with their words, splitting hairs and assigning discrete definitions to prepositions that can have multiple meanings. He then delineates all the times these prepositions have been used in a multitude of ways in the Scriptures. Its quite humbling to think of Basil writing down all of these numerous biblical references without either a big unified book like we have, or a Bible Gateway website that is easily searchable. Basil’s point is not that the skeptics were being too strict about their words, or that he was in favor of more fluid definitions of theological terminology. He was trying to say that words are human inventions, and therefore are insufficient for describing things like the economy of the Trinity, and therefore relying on word play alone to satisfy your theology is also insufficient.

Basil also must refute their refusal of subnumeration. As Basil quotes from Corinthians, “One and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each as he wishes.” (1 Cor 12:11) He becomes quite frustrated with their inability to understand these basic theological ideas: “Their argument goes, that co-numeration is appropriate for objects that are equally honorable, while sub-numeration suits those that differ in that they are inferior. Why in the world do you say this? For I do not understand your strange wisdom.”^[8] For Basil, subnumeration means the opposite, namely that any substance thus divided into three parts or persons still contains the same substance. For me, this division tends to cut off the possibility for perichoresis, but since they are the same substance they are dynamically connected and intermingled, leading to sufficient perichoresis. Perichoresis also played a part in the filioque controversy with the Eastern churches, that of adding language to the creeds that claims that the Spirit proceeds from both the Father and the Son. As Castelo explains, “The East believes the filioque threatens the uniqueness of the persons by blurring the distinction between the Father and the Son…and by subordinating the Spirit below the Father and the Son.”^[9] For Basil, this rests on the consubstantiality of the divine persons. Basil insists that the Scriptures refer to the Father, Son, and Spirit all involved in divine actions, and that as they are all divine, they are all one divinity.

By insisting on both perichoresis and subnumeration, Basil sets the Holy Spirit on equal footing with the Father and the Son eternally, since to be of the same substance with eternal God means eternal co-equality. The Spirit then can be seen as the authors of Genesis wrote, the eternal breath of God hovering over the waters of creation. The Spirit can also be seen with Christ at his crucifixion and resurrection, the giver of life while Jesus lay in the tomb. Both of these involve the interaction of the Spirit with the material of reality, not a transcendent Spirit who only talks to Samuel in his sleep but one who plays an integral part in creation from the motion of the spheres to the driver of electrons and protons inside our very atoms.

Another key activity for the Spirit lies in the moment of Baptism. Basil believes this to be a type, a way of signifying that we recognize the need for salvation as well as a memorial of the way Christ brought salvation to us. As he says, “We imitate the burial of Christ through baptism…The water furnishes the image of death, just as the body is received in burial, but the Spirit infuses life-giving power, renewing our souls from the death of sin to their original life.”^[10] Basil’s point is not that we are baptized by the water, but that the water is symbolic for the initial work of salvation by Christ, and that by repeating the work of Christ through the sacrament of baptism we are symbolically dying to our old life and flesh and being renewed by the life-giving power of the Spirit to a new life. As John the Baptist says, “He himself will baptize you in the Spirit and fire.” (Mt 3:11)

 

Finding the Spirit in the Here and Now

 

For my ministry and vocation, I will focus on how the immanence of the Holy Spirit works to equalize all of humanity through integrating and sanctifying our hearts and our bodies. As Felker Jones puts it, “In the spiritual life, guided by the Holy Spirit, all is united in an integrated whole: interior and exterior, individual and corporate, soul and body, contemplation and action, commitment and practice, emotion and the day-to-day life of the church. The Christian life must always be spiritual and religious in this sense.”^[11] Although I believe she is setting up a host of false dichotomies here, the point is the same, namely that the Holy Spirit works to help us integrate all aspects of our spiritual and physical lives in order to bring about the Kingdom of God on Earth. She later refers to this as the “continual process of sanctification.”^[12]

One of the false dichotomies I believe the Holy Spirit can help humanity struggle through is that of gendered language for divinity. As the Spirit indwells in all of humanity, including those persons of varying sexuality and gender, we all can thus experience the Holy Spirit in a “Transpersonal” way, as Castelo puts it.^[13] Removing the modality of the Trinity means removing a concrete and static reliance on any gendered language that our traditions have used for centuries. Associating God’s nature with only one kind of gender or sexuality has left entire populations of humanity out of Christian God-talk. While Felker Jones relies specifically on tradition to substantiate the perpetuation of male gendered language when referring to God, Castelo’s approach is much broader. He prefers gender-neutral language for the Spirit, but recognizes the disconnection this can create between Christians and a personal God. I am glad that he at least addresses the fact that using gendered language, whether male or female, can serve to privilege that group over the other, as well as over those who prefer neither gender. Recognizing the active and dynamic power of the Holy Spirit in the lives of Christians means recognizing the Spirit’s transcendence of gender binaries. As the agent of creation, giving us life on a daily/momentary basis, the Spirit is well acquainted with people of varying gender identifications and sexualities. The limitations of the English language need not limit the activities of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

This unlimited Holy Spirit can also allow us to see our common humanity across racial, sexual, gendered, economic, social, religious, and national boundaries. As our TA Min-Sung has shown us, engaging deeply in our own personal pneumatology shows us the connections existing between all of creation, and that violations of any part of the creation constitute eco-cide. This term is used by theologians like Mark Wallace to “reenvision the Holy Spirit as God’s invigorating presence within the society of all living beings.”^[14] This radical reimagining of the Holy Spirit is perfectly inline with my vocational goal of realizing the connection the Holy Spirit gives to all human beings. We cannot interact individually without thinking communally and globally any longer. When thinkers like Felker Jones insist on masculine language for the Holy Spirit because that’s the tradition, she fails to recognize the tradition is based on male authorship writing frequently to oppress and marginalize people of different gender and sexual identities. We cannot simply assume our actions no longer have global consequences, or even consequences for our neighbors in our own state. The fruits of the Spirit include both patience and benevolence, but I believe the time for patience with this kind of backward Christian thinking has passed. Through the indwelling and activity of the Holy Spirit giving us strength and perseverance, we can call upon our Christian family to recognize the damage they do both to human life as well as the life of the planet when they discount our existence in humanity because of convenience or tradition. Christ and the Spirit call us to work for equality and justice now.

^[1] Alasdair Heron, The Holy Spirit (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983), 13.

^[2] The Spirit of Discernment calls to mind the book Not Every Spirit by Christopher Morse, which we studied in Dr. Bedford’s Intro to Theology Class. The Title is a reference to 1 John 4:1, recognizing that not all spirits are from God, and therefore we are to test each spirit with discernment, which also comes from God.

^[3] Heron, 47-48.

^[4] Daniel Castelo, Pneumatology: a Guide for the Perplexed (New York: Bloomsbury, 2015), 91.

^[5] Christopher More, Not Every Spirit: A Dogmatics of Christian Disbelief (Valley Forge, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 1994), 191.

^[6] St. Basil the Great, On The Holy Spirit, trans. Stephen M. Hildebrand (Yonkers: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2011), 116.

^[7] From class notes, Dr. Bedford, 9-18-2015.

^[8] Basil, 77.

^[9] Castelo, 61.

^[10] Basil, 68.

^[11] Beth Felker Jones, God The Spirit: Introducing Pneumatology in Wesleyan and Ecumenical Perspective (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2014), 44.

^[12] Jones, 86.

^[13] Castelo, 9.

^[14] Mark I. Wallace, “The green face of God: Christianity in an age of ecocide.” Cross Currents 50, no. 3 (September 2000): 314.

Elsa Tamez, “The Bible and the Five Hundred Years of Conquest”

Yet another article is fascinating in its scope and depth of content. Tamez lays out the basis for the development of Liberation theology and Liberation biblical interpretation by showing the historical background of the methods used in South America for biblical interpretation. The author is attempting to show a line of progress in interpretive methods from the time of Conquest to the future, where she envisions indigenous populations and their religious viewpoints playing a vital role. Tamez divides the main hermeneutical positions used for biblical interpretation since 1492: 1) the Bible as it was used during the conquest by both conquistadores and dissenting priests; 2) rejection of the Bible by indigenous peoples who were holding fast to their local traditions; 3) what she refers to as a “popular” reading of the Bible, which in the US we would call “populist”; and 4) the integration of and dialogue with indigenous traditions.

The Bible was used and misused in many ways during the conquest. The main interpreters Tamez uses are Fr. Bartolomé de Las Casas, who was horrified by the casual slaughter and patently un-Christian activities of the Spanish, and Fr. Toribio de Benavente, also called Motolinia, who viewed the conquest of the local native populations as analogous to the plagues in Egypt. However, instead of the enslaved local natives taking the role of the enslaved Hebrews in Egypt, Motolinia saw the Spanish as the Hebrews, with the plagues wrought by God as punishment on the Indians for their blasphemous religion.

The rejection of the Bible came when indigenous religious persons rejected the biblical interpretation of the world, the Christian need for salvation, and the Spanish use of the Bible as just cause for genocide. As a result, many of these indigenous holdouts were summarily executed as “tribute” for God’s providential support in Spanish victory. This section contained such a revelation for me. The letter to Pope John Paul II from a group of Latin and North American Indians returning the Bible to him was the most liberative paragraph I’ve read in a long time. The best quote for me: “Please, take your Bible and give it back to our oppressors, because they need its moral precepts more than we.”[1]

The popular, or populist, reading of the Bible seeks to view the Bible as part of how we understand our lives today, as well as vice versa. Therefore, those who are oppressed and marginalized must be able to liberate the Gospel from the view of the privileged European white perspective and see how the Bible speaks to the widow and the orphan, the battered wife and the sexually-abused child, the immigrant and the poor. This populist reading of the Bible moves the needle towards texts that are life-giving and constructive for the oppressed, as opposed to those texts that are used to keep the oppression in place.

The integration of and dialogue with indigenous communities is the last, most recent, and possible future of the Latin American liberative Bible interpretation. Tamez has difficulty with the integration of non-Christian belief into biblical interpretation, but she sees its value in both the illumination of texts as well as breaking down religious barriers that divide us as humans. I’m reading a lot about this in my other classes at the moment. Difficulty arises when Christians worry that they are losing something inherently Christian about their belief when they become open to other beliefs. Tamez does believe that those who ignore other beliefs and disagree with the integration of their practices are afraid of the “other,” not necessarily whatever beliefs they are rejecting. I believe we must be open to the possibility of revelation to other groups outside of Christianity. To believe that God speaks only to Christians seems very Eurocentric.

[1] Elsa Tamez, “The Bible and the Five Hundred Years of Conquest,” in Voices from the Margin: Intepreting the Bible in the Third World, ed. R.S. Sugirtharajah (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 2006), 18.

An experimental exegesis outside my own social location: this was an exercise in my cross-cultural New Testament class.

New Illumination of Jesus through a Buddhist Text: A comparative look at Matthew 5:38-42 and the Dhammapada

My exegesis will take the social location of a teenage Vietnamese girl who was raised in a Catholic home in Hanoi. She has learned a lot about Buddhism from her classmates, and wants to explore how it is different from her Christianity. Comparing two texts like this can give a uniquely Asian perspective on the Bible. I have chosen to work with Matthew 5:38-42 and Dhammapada 1:3-5, both from the young Vietnamese girl’s perspective.

Matthew 5:38-42:

³⁸ “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ ³⁹ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; ⁴⁰ and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; ⁴¹ and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. ⁴² Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.

 

Dhammapada 1:3-5:

³ “He insulted me, he struck me, he cheated me, he robbed me”: those caught in resentful thoughts never find peace.

⁴ “He insulted me, he struck me, he cheated me, he robbed me”: those who give up resentful thoughts surely find peace.

⁵ For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time: hatred ceases by love. This is an unalterable law.

 

I have read this passage in Matthew many times in catechism class. We are taught that it was an appeal to end the circles of violence and vengeance common in Palestine at the time and to respond to evil with good. According to the International Bible Commentary in my church’s rectory, more is going on than is usually assumed.[1] Firstly, v. 40 makes a distinction between a coat and a cloak, which according to Leske refers to an inner and outer garment. Since rabbinical law prohibited taking someone’s outer garment, the cloak, as payment, a creditor would get around the law by requesting the debtor’s inner garment, the coat. Jesus says to give them both. I can’t imagine wearing two coats since it is always warm here in Hanoi, so I’d gladly give mine up to anyone who wanted one! But if someone wanted my socks, and I had to give them my shoes too, I could see how that act of generosity would change their perspective and maybe be kinder to me in the future.

In v. 41, Leske refers to an odd Roman rule where a soldier could force a random passerby to make them carry their equipment, but for no further than one mile. Leske says Simon of Cyrene in the Passion story is a good example for this law in action. Jesus exhorts us to go further than one mile, which may be seen as an act of hostility against the Roman oppressors, and instead go two miles. Jesus is asking for a radical change from the way we commonly react to oppression. My mother often asks me to go to the market to get things for dinner. If she asked me to go two towns over just for vegetables I’d probably be mad. But they do have better food there. J

The Dhammapada is a grouping of the most efficient and succinct teachings of the Buddha dating back to roughly the 5^th century C.E. Lefebure discusses the title of the book, saying: “Dhammapada is an ingenious and telling title for this collection. It is derived from two words: dhamma and pada. Dhamma…can mean many things. With regard to its use as a religious concept, it supports or upholds the tradition, and indeed perhaps the universe itself. Most typically, pada is translated as foot…it can also mean word, verse, stanza, or line.”[2] So I guess that means this book contains the words on which the Buddhist tradition rests. It could be also a grouping of verses that support the concepts of Buddhism. Or it could just be a pair of shoes. J It takes the form of series of statements that contrast the correct and incorrect way to act. I guess it sounds most like our Proverbs, but where the Proverbs suggest wisdom as a way to remain in good standing with God, the Dhammapada wisdom’s intent is to set one free from suffering. The two are kind of similar, but of course the differences in the thoughts behind them are strong.

Lefebre says the Buddhist theory of the mind differentiates between fed and unfed thoughts and emotions, like watered and un-watered pets. So if we water our angry and destructive emotions they will grow, while our peaceful and loving emotions are choked out. He states, “In this sense, we do not necessarily have to do anything about unskillful mental states. Simple being mindful of their arising, refusing to identify with them, and allowing them to dissolve frees us from them.”[3] By noticing when I get flushed cheeks, sweaty palms, or the queasy stomach, I can acknowledge that I’m getting angry and then refuse to feed it any of my time and energy. This is a similar reaction to what Jesus asked of us, but different in source.

The Dhammapada suggests getting rid of the “unskillful” emotions, while Jesus suggests transforming them into positive action. The Buddhist teaching comes from the internal struggle we face when someone does something wrong to us. In reaction to unfairness, we can either be angry at how we’re being treated or we can recognize our ability to rise above it through by calming down.

The Christian teaching comes from the good that can happen when we offer peace when presented with wrongdoing. In this reaction to injustice, we can either smack the person back in the face, or we can diffuse the situation by offering our other cheek, appealing to the peaceful side of human nature. The Buddhist response is more resigned to the people being unfair and seems to say there’s nothing to do about it, stating, “This is an unalterable law.” The Christian response looks for a solution to a difficult situation by breaking with what they had always done, which said the only way to achieve justice was through more violence. In this light, the dhamma seems to be very pessimistic, while Jesus sees the possibility of an optimistic outcome. I hadn’t thought of these verses from Matthew as being optimistic before. I assumed that turning the cheek was a way to diffuse the situation, to make a bully go away, but not as a way to seek a positive solution. For me this is a huge change from how we were taught this in catechism. Jesus is teaching us to be actively peaceful in the world!

 

[1] Adrian Leske, “Matthew,” in The International Bible Commentary, ed. William R. Farmer (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1998) 1275-1276.

[2] Leo Lefebure and Peter Feldmeier, The Path of Wisdom: A Christian Commentary on the Dhammapada (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2011), 10-11.

[3] Lefebure, 35.

Review: George M. Soares-Prabhu’s “Two Mission Commands: An Interpretation of Matthew 28.16-20 in the Light of a Buddhist Text”

 

To be honest with you, this article is fascinating. Well, half of the article is fascinating. Soares-Prabhu (SP)’s article uses a command to spread religion in both Christianity and Buddhism as a way to shed light on both texts and traditions. His thesis suggests that comparing similar texts from a Western religion and an Eastern one help provide a basis for developing a uniquely Asian perspective for Biblical interpretation. However, his goal is neither one of comparative religions nor any sort of syncretic theology. As he says, “But this paper is not meant to present a comparative study of Christianity and Buddhism. It has a much more limited aim: to provide an example of an Asian interpretation of the Bible by comparing a familiar biblical text with a ‘parallel’ from the Buddhist tradition.”[1]

He begins the article with a large and detailed history of the development of socio-cultural interpretation and hermeneutical philosophy. The purpose for this historical inventory is to show the difficulty in constructing a truly “Asian” interpretation of biblical literature. He has a great quote in this section describing the importance of recognizing the reader’s social location when performing an exegesis. Quoting Roland Barthes, he says, “A written text is like a musical score; just as a musical score becomes music only when it is performed, a written text produces meaning only when it is read.”[2] To extend the metaphor, each performance of a musical score is temporal and finite, and therefore unique to that moment in time. Similarly, when we interpret a text or belief we do so in a temporal and finite manner. We may have a different social location later in life, or new perspectives gained through life experiences.

He then moves into an analysis of the two religious texts structurally in order to show the similarities and differences between the two texts only, not between the two faiths. The texts involved are the Great Commission from Matthew 28:16-20 and a mission command from the Buddha in Mahavagga 1.10-11.1. He gives them both a parallel structure in order to visualize the similarities and differences:

 

 

Matthew 28:16-20	Mahavagga 1.10-11.1
28:16 Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17 And when they saw him they worshipped him; but some doubted.	1.10 At that time there were sixty-one Arahants in the world.
A	A
18 And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.	1.11 The Lord said to the Bhikkus, ‘I am delivered, O Bhikkus, from all fetters human and divine.
(cf. Matthew 5:13-16)	You, O Bhikkus, are also delivered from all fetters, human and divine.
B	B
19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations,	Go now, O Bhikkus, and wander for the profit of many, for the happiness of many, and out of compassion for the world, for the good, profit, and happiness of gods and human beings.
Baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,
	Let not two of you go the same way.
20 teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you;	Preach, O Bhikkus, the dhamma, which is good in the beginning, good in the middle and good in the end, in the spirit and in the letter. Proclaim a consummate, perfect and pure life of holiness…
C	C
And lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age.’	And I will go also, O Bhikkus, to Uruvela, to Senanigama, in order to preach the dhamma.’

 

Bhikkus – Pali word for Buddhist monks

Arahants – Pali word for saints

Dhamma – Pali word for dharma, or teachings

 

SP divides the texts into three sections in order to compare and contrast them. You can see in the italicized texts the striking similarities. SP discusses four issues at hand. First, while the Christian commission rests solely on the authority of Jesus Christ, the Buddhist commission comes from the enlightenment of the Buddha as well as the Bhikkus. Their experience allows them to spread the dharma as authoritatively as the Buddha himself. Second, they both ask their followers to go everywhere and spread the good news/dharma. The only difference is that Christ instructs his disciples to baptize all converts, where Buddhism lacks the concept of a singular conversion event. Third, both commissions say that their desire is to spread the word of liberation from sin/suffering. However, the Christian commission says to go to all nations. The Buddhist commission simply says to all human beings, regardless of national identification. SP points out that this difference has led Christianity to go down many dangerous paths of colonization and oppression through expansion. Finally, both commissions end with a promise to abide with the disciples/Bhikkus during their times of trial.

This article was such an eye-opener for me. It really puts forth a clear way to begin constructing a truly Asian interpretation of this universal commission. The author shows us both the universality of certain religious concepts through their most treasured documents. He then uses these comparisons to shed new light on texts in a specifically Indian way. This article makes me want to study more Buddhist texts and look for more similarities and differences.

[1] George M. Soares-Prabhu, “Two Mission Commands: An Interpretation of Matthew 28.16-20 in the Light of a Buddhist Text” in Voices from the Margin: Interpreting the Bible in the Third World, ed. R.S. Sugirtharajah. Rev. and expanded 3rd ed. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 2006, p. 342.

[2] Ibid, 333.

I wrote a small reflection for a gathering of the North Suburban cluster of churches who are members of Community Renewal Society. Here’s the reflection:

So I have been tasked with preparing today’s faith reflection. Given the ecumenical nature of our group, it was difficult to choose a text that could be broadly relatable as well as specifically powerful. I grew up in the Southern Baptist church, where their idea of ecumenical was inviting everyone from the surrounding Southern Baptist churches to a potluck supper, but only if no one talked about politics or religion. In spite of that, or perhaps because of it, I have chosen a text from the Dao De Ching, the foundational Daoist text by the ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu. Historians disagree on whether or not Lao Tzu was one person or merely a collection of wisdom handed down through oral tradition, similar to how bible scholars view Proverbs. Nevertheless, the wisdom is timeless, and Lao Tzu’s words can have powerful effects on us today.

Lori and I were discussing in our one-on-one a few weeks ago our own struggle with Daoist texts. It exhorts us to mimic the Man of Inaction (Woman of Inaction, depending on the translation), who achieves most by doing the least. Like water, the Dao flows to where it is needed, without force or violence. Water benefits everyone by preferring no one, seeking to take part in the flow of life, not to disrupt it with Action or Legislation. This is obviously wonderful wisdom that can help us understand how to interact in many situations at work, at home, at school, and in our personal and private lives. However, as we have noticed that the world is woefully out of balance, spiritually dry as a bone, and flying headlong into disaster caged in a Trump-sized basket, Lori and I (and I’m sure all of you) seek concrete actions we can take to make effective change. Thankfully, in a local bookstore I found a new translation of the Dao called the Activist’s Dao De Ching: Ancient Advice for a Modern Revolution. I read now from William Martin’s translation of the Dao De Ching:

 

Ideas, concepts, and words

Have separated us from life.

Masquerading as friends,

They have made us enemies

Of each other.

 

Free of our own prejudices,

We act with spontaneity.

We move naturally.

We accomplish what is necessary.

 

Caught in our prejudices,

We act as puppets,

Moving in lockstep

To the beat of commerce.

 

All emerges from the Dao,

All returns to the Dao in time.

Meanwhile, darkness deepens,

Bringing fear and despair.

Darkness faced, however,

opens into daylight.

 

We all know and have felt the coming onrushing of power that seems likely to overwhelm us. We see every day in the news another horror, another sick injustice perpetrated in the name of Society or God or Common Sense or The Economy. Whether we believe in God, Dao, or the inimitable goodness of humankind, we can all agree that when good people band together to acknowledge our collective power, align our common goals, and restore each other’s hearts, we can be just as elementally powerful as the injustice that we face, just like the water that Lao Tzu spoke of. No matter the dams built by Rahm or Rauner or Pence or Priebus or anyone else, water seeps under, it flows over, it bursts through, or maybe it evaporates and rains on the other side. Once we align together, our forces cannot be stopped, and need not be violent or hazardous or felonious. There are many concrete actions we can take, steps we can begin, here, together, to break any dam that comes against us.

 

While in seminary at Garrett-Evangelical, I learned two things that arose above the rest of my education, due partially to the Methodist denomination of the seminary. First, that the perceived disconnection between body and soul rose early in the history of the Christian Church, a wound that has caused much pain over the centuries. Second, that the theology taught/learned at seminary was drastically different from both the inherited theology I grew up with in Sunday School as well as the theology many of my peers were going to be allowed to preach upon graduation: another wound that has caused much pain over the centuries. My current project seeks to find ways to bring these two wounds into reconciliation and begin to heal some of the hurt the church began inflicting upon the world so many years ago and which some churches continue to this day.

The body/soul dichotomy is not a new problem. Many theologians and philosophers have commented upon the issue before, although without resolution it seems. It seems counter-intuitive to me as a Christian: if Jesus the Christ, the Incarnation of the transcendent God, was supposed to be fully human and fully divine, shouldn’t we embrace the entirety of what it means to be human? It’s not as though Jesus was an entity of pure spirit, nor a vacant empty shell mind filled with some holy divine essence. These were rejected as heresy millennia ago. I believe that philosophically re-connecting our body and spirit is the key to healing many of the carnage done to the human race ever since the Christian religion separated them. Seeing all humanity as one human race is a beginning that cannot be acknowledged if you decide that those with certain spirits are above those without said spirits.

Studying at a Methodist seminary gave me keen insights about the mundane bureaucratic aspects of the denomination applicable to most Protestant denominations. Chief among those insights were the necessary constraints placed upon Divinity students attempting to find work at churches outside of urban city centers, especially when they discuss theology with their new congregations. Surely, I thought, they would be able to bring the theology of the academy with them to any number of congregation types. Quite the opposite is true, as I was to learn. In most Protestant denominations, clergy persons are hired by a committee of laypeople, members of the local church who have (often) volunteered for the position of deciding whose voice will be spoken in their naves on a weekly basis. The average theological education required for membership on these boards and committees is Sunday School level at best; hearing the Scriptures on holidays only at worst. Yet these are the ones in charge, these laypeople who hold the purse strings of each church’s coffers. How could a freshly graduated minister expect to talk about white privilege or the Deuteronomic Historian or biblical criticism with those who have never heard these topics before? And what if, especially in the case of racial equity and white privilege, those laypeople patently disagree with the teaching of such subjects they know nothing about? One could find doors slammed shut in one’s face at every turn, while trying to find a way to pay off thousands of dollars in school loans borrowed on the premise of gainful church employment.

There must be a way to reconnect the body and mind in the hearts of Christianity. There must be a way to bridge the gap between Sunday School theology and academic theology. My project seeks to use these two wounds as a way to heal all of the church, and the world along with it.