Bonking with Barth

Two Kiwi bibliobloggers have recently dealt with the Holy One of Bern's take on marriage.  Not just Kiwi's, y'know, but Dunedin-based Mainlanders.

Deane Galbraith has been drawing attention to the interesting relationship Karl Barth had with Charlotte von Kirschbaum, using a very amusing speech bubble innuendo-type method.  Who'd have thought such light-hearted creativity was even possible in sub-antarctic latitudes?  For some reason unfathomable to those of us who use the (ahem) superior technology of Blogger, WordPress blogs don't seem to let you link to all the thematically connected posts in one hit, but a stroll through the last few weeks' worth of Deane's fine work is time well spent.

Now Jason Goroncy has a post up called Barth on Marriage.  This is a heavier, more sober piece redolent with the kind of insightful (if sometimes opaque) discussion to be expected from a knowledgeable Presbyterian scholar.  No mention of 'Lotte' here.

Coincidentally, as mentioned earlier, I've been on a bit of a Barth binge.  Why?  Something to do with prolonged exposure to viral Barthian presuppositions while "doing theology" through Dunedin's Otago University.  Being from beyond the walls of the Reformed ghetto, I found this the most puzzling, downright irritating and frequently off-putting part of those studies, and yet Barth himself was never subjected to any kind of sustained critique in the courses I took.

A second reason is the capitulation of the fringe faith community of my salad days to Barthian influence since its much overstated and overblown "reformation". The result has been - at least as I see it - almost complete incoherence in that church's theology.  A good heresy at least provides coherent fantasy!  Incoherence may try to pass itself off as profundity; but it's just another variation of 'the emperor's new clothes'. Be warned, if you read The Surprising God blog regularly, your brain might well turn to mush.

I began the 'binge' thinking that Barth might only make sense if you first bought into the whole darn Reformed package.  In other words, you'd need to buy the clunky, obsolete Calvin software before you could apply the Barth upgrade.  And, well, with all due respect to anyone who owns the Geneva operating system, that simply wasn't going to happen!

Having now tackled Barth in greater "superficial depth" than previously, I'm approaching the stage where I kind of admire the guy for some things, while being violently repelled by others.  Over the next couple of weeks, with a break from routine, there's an opportunity to work on the promised podcast, which will hopefully be neither hatchet job nor hagiography.  Barth's thought, being as willfully obtuse as it is, can't of course really be covered by this kind of light once-over.  After all, his English publisher, SCM, once described the man himself (with absolutely no sense of dry humour, wit or sarcasm) as "the Einstein of twentieth-century theology."

An assessment which Charlotte von Kirschbaum would probably have agreed with.

CEB - the best "broad spectrum" translation yet?

The complete Common English Bible has been unleashed at last, and it may give the NRSV and other "broad spectrum" translations real competition.

The CEB attempts to bring together readability with high standards in scholarship. Literal translations are famously 'wooden' making them almost impossible to use as spoken English.  Evangelical translations are, by their very nature, agenda driven, sometimes deliberately mistranslating in order to preserve 'proof texts', as with the ESV.

The controversial release of the latest NIV revision - and its troubled reception at the recent Southern Baptist convention - illustrates just how vulnerable modern translations are to haranguing from the 'cheap seats', and the resulting pressure to compromise.

The CEB promises something much better, and that is, well, uncommon.

Leaving the (Abusive) Fold

There are more than a few readers here who know what it's like to be cast out of the Kingdom, excommunicated, disfellowshipped...  That's something I share with them.  My terrible sin was questioning the authority of the imperious church leader who, it turned out, had "feet of clay."

Whether the mullahs get to you first, or you precipitate things by confronting them (as I did), the result is pretty much the same.  I've never been divorced, but I imagine the trauma you go through is similar in both.  Church membership - especially in more sectarian settings - is about identity as well as community.  Reinventing yourself is no easy thing.

So I found myself empathising with Shelley Branine.  She and her husband were recently dumped from membership of their church.  The sin?

The foundation crumbled when we started asking questions about how money was being spent and the lifestyle of some of the leaders doing the spending. We weren’t the only members wondering, just the only ones brave enough to ask. I was shocked to discover that such simple questions would cause so much anger, fear and defense. Our intention and demeanors were not harsh or critical. We simply and politely asked for answers.

So they kicked us out.

This is a tale oft told.  The last line of Shelley's post is, though, the one that struck me.

But regardless of all of the hurt feelings and confusion, I’m thankful, because I am better for it.

Abusive churches are lethal, no matter how much we have invested in them - study, financial, even (tragically) family.  Abusive churches want - and need - compliant, unquestioning members.  Perhaps in the past these churches tended to cluster on the sectarian fringes, but today, like Shelley's, they operate close to the evangelical mainstream with largely unaccountable 'pastors'.  If they were plumbers you'd call them 'cowboys'. You only have to read Tanya Levin's account of life in Hillsong to recognise the same pattern, and Hillsong is "respectable" in the eyes of the evangelical mainstream.

It's clearly much easier not to get involved in a rogue, personality-driven church than to have to tear yourself free much later.  The message has to be, buyer beware!  But, as Shelley has discovered, better late than never.  You'll be the better for it.

Life in a snow globe

Compulsory reading for anyone who thinks the Deluge story in Genesis just might still be credible as history.

Flee to the hills!

Aging American evangelist Rod "Spanky" Meredith seems to be advising his flock to 'flee to the hills.'  Meredith is 'Presiding Evangelist' over a small sect known as the Living Church of God (LCG).

Today unofficial LCG web-apologist Doctor Bob Thiel, a California naturopath, stoked up concern on his blog over an earthquake in the Kermadec Islands which, briefly, raised a tsunami warning in Tonga, Fiji and New Zealand, sagely observing:

Jesus, of course, warned about a time with such issues... [citing Mark 13:8] We may be at this prophetic point as all the earthquakes and other problems that have happened in the past year could be considered as “troubles”.

Dr. Bob then goes on to quote the sacred words of his Glorious Leader from a 2004 church editorial.

Events prophesied in your Bible are now beginning to occur with increasing frequency. In this Work of the living God, we are able to warn you about what is going to happen soon. We are not talking about decades in the future. We are talking about Bible prophecies that will intensify within the next five to 15 years of your life! Please understand. We are not “scaremongers.” We love our fellow man. So it is our responsibility to warn our peoples—ahead of time—to prepare for the future. Most of our advice is spiritual in nature. However, in this editorial I want to give you some common sense advice involving your physical survival and your financial well-being…So we must each examine our own situation to determine what action we should take. Are we living in a low-lying coastal area where we may be in danger at a time of increasing hurricanes, tsunamis or similar natural disasters?

Time to sell that beachfront property!  (Not that too many triple-tithing members of the LCG could afford beachfront property.)

"Spanky" has been predicting the Great Tribulation in the "next three to five years" since the 1950s.  Time to dig deep for the last great push to fulfil the Great Commission!  I suppose it's progress that he's now stretched the time period out to a much safer "five to 15". 

I feel a prediction coming on; a prophecy!  In fifteen years time Rod will no longer be with us, there still will be earthquakes, and Bob, having learned nothing, will continue promoting naive apocalyptic nonsense.

White collar crime

Auckland's ever controversial Anglican church, St. Matthew-in-the-City, has a new billboard on display sure to tweak the noses of their more conservative brethren. It's part of an initiative to petition those old codgers who wear the funny hats to permit the ordination of openly gay and lesbian priests.

Whatever your views on the merits of such a campaign, the use of the term "white collar crime" is interesting.  When did you last see a "man of the cloth" out in public with a dog collar?  When did you last hear a functionary of a traditional church obsequiously referred to as "reverend" without flinching?

Back in the "olden days," when I was a kid, dog collared reverends were far more common.  In fact, there was a default attitude of respect toward them, even among those who rarely darkened the door of a church.  They were, if nothing else, professional gentlemen.  They had endured years of training, had more books on their shelves than their parishioners, and were both 'safe' and somewhat worldly-wise.  If you wanted a job reference, a clergyman was a sound choice, along with the family doctor and a high school teacher.  Need some astute advice?  You'd see Pastor/Father/Reverend so and so, particularly if you came from a lower-middle class or working class background.

Times change.  Clergypersons are no longer exclusively male.  Dog collars are out of fashion when appearing in public. Attendance has plummeted.  The church is caught up in its own interminable internal disputes, gay ordination being one hot issue that refuses to be hosed down, while Rome burns all around it.

White collar crime number one, as I see it, is the refusal of the mainline churches to come clean on their complicity in (to use a euphemism) the mushroom farming industry (keep 'em in the dark and pour on the effluent.)  Obfuscation reigns in an attempt to offend as few people as possible.  The old creeds continue to be recited by worshippers who know that they can't be taken on face value.  The unspoken rule is "play the game" and, while you're being sprayed with effluent, whistle loudly to keep your spirits up.

But why bother?  There's not much future in that, either with or without an enlightened policy toward the ordination of gay men and women.

The Jesus story retold

I got around to Philip Pullman's The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ on the weekend. To repeat what has been said before, this is a creative retelling of the Jesus story. It isn't non-fiction, it isn't a biography, and it makes no pretence to be a work of scholarship. In fact this is Pullman's first book for adults; he has made his name as a children's author.

This didn't stop the morons who shelve items at Borders in Auckland from placing it in the religion section of course.

So, how good - or bad - is it? That is inevitably a matter of personal judgement, but for what it's worth here's my personal take.

It is a beautifully written tale that has a simple, direct style. You can read it in a couple of sittings easily, and if you've ever tackled a modern paraphrase (like the awful Peterson Message) you may even find Pullman a huge improvement in those parts where he follows the tradition.

They said 'Teacher, you're an honest man, we can all see that. No one doubts your sincerity or your impartiality; you show no favours, and you don't try to ingratiate yourself with anyone. So we're sure you'll give us a truthful answer when we ask you: is it lawful to pay taxes?'

They meant lawful according to the law of Moses, and they hoped they would trick him into saying something that would get him into trouble with the Romans.

But he said 'Show me one of those coins you pay taxes with.'

Someone handed him a coin, and he looked at it and said 'There's a picture on here. Whose picture is this? What's the name underneath it?'

'It's Caesar's of course,' they said.

'Well, there's your answer. If this is Caesar's, give it back to him. Give God the things that are God's.'

But of course this isn't a paraphrase, but a more literary enterprise. And Pullman isn't a pious believer but an upfront Atheist. I did find the plot a bit stretched to begin with: Jesus has a twin brother ("Christ") who ultimately brings him down. Then there's the mysterious stranger who uses Christ as his pawn in the subversion of the Kingdom of God message.

But does Pullman pull it off anyway? Yes, I think so.

Of course some Christians (but not all) will be offended. That's predictable. Tough.