There Was an Old Man Who Painted the Sky

One of my favorite children's books to read to the boys is There Was an Old Man Who Painted the Sky, by Teri Sloat (Author) and Stefano Vitale (Illustrator).

It tells of a young girl discovering the ancient cave paintings in Altamira, Spain, with her wonder framed by the six-day Genesis creation story. She expresses her amazement at how the Old Man above it all created everything, as "it's up so high."

The book uses the idea of God as an artist, who paints the cosmos into creation (Tolkien has the similar idea of Creation sung into existence by God and the angels in The Simarillion). God then gives creation its own proper freedom to paint and create, which leads to the cave's existence and the child's astonishment.

Without being pedantic or conceptual (which don't work well with children, anyway), the book conveys the wonder of existence, beauty, creation, and transcendence. It's a pleasure to read, especially in its evocation of a Biblical sense of amazement at the world and God.

Williams vs. Dawkins: A Discussion on Evolution, Human Life, and the Universe

A new theological and philosophical video is now available on youtube: the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, and Richard Dawkins, well-known scientist, writer, and agnostic-atheist.

It's an interesting discussion, moderated by the agnostic philosopher Anthony Kenny (this itself seems appropriate – philosophy moderates between theology and scientism). The discussion revolves more around the nature of the universe and human beings, and the origin of humanity and life, than direct issues around atheism and theism.

A few observations on the conversation:

• Williams is quite pithy in his speech, especially in comparison to Dawkins (I rather wished Williams had said more, in fact);
• Dawkins is quite used to straw men, and not to a subtle theological thinker like Williams; he invokes such a straw man at 49:31;
• The conversation is quite cordial, and there are many points of agreement between the two (in a real sense, Williams can agree with much of Dawkins, but the reverse is not quite true);
• Some questions, such as suffering, flaws in design, Biblical authority, and original sin, are more difficult for Williams;
• Other questions are particularly difficult for Dawkins, such as free will, consciousness, the development of language, the development of DNA,
• Williams is more familiar with Dawkins' writings and world than the reverse, which is a common critique of Dawkins by theologians;
• They have a rather obvious disagreement over the definition of God, which revolves around God as a "God of the gaps" who is inserted into science and makes things messy (Dawkins), versus a God who undergirds all creation (Williams);

Let's hope such an interesting, cordial, and enlightening discussion can lead to many, many others.

All Theology is Historical

All Christian theology is historical. It is rooted in history, influenced by language, culture, and story. We see this in how Plato and Greek philosophy greatly impacted the Church Fathers, Aristotle ("The Philosopher") was a key shaper of Aquinas, and Enlightenment thought made a tremendous shift in Western theology. We continue to try and grapple with what Jewish and Greek words meant in their original Biblical context, as we try to understand why that particular word was chosen and its linguistic significance for then and today. Language, concepts, and culture have a left a consistent imprint upon Christian thought.

For two of my recent classes, the textbooks have spent their first sections on this topic of Western history. They do this because history is so key for theology and the class needs a common footing. But the books also delve into Western civilization because they have to assume that the students know next to nothing of Western intellectual history. Sadly, it's true. Students seem taken aback about Modernity versus ancient times. Most of their historical notions are fairly populist: the Middle Ages were a time when the Church and the Pope were bad, and then the Protestants fixed things up, and now we can have freedom and shop when we want.

The frustrating result is instructors have to spend a third of the semester's class time on history that students should largely know. These are kids that presumably did well in high school and have gone on to college, but who live in a world of popular historical memes and notions. Rather than doing more advanced work with the material or even the history, we must cover the basics.

I know that instructors have complained about students' knowledge and preparation for centuries. What makes this generation different are the endless distractions they have available: cable television, internet, facebook, you name it. Students could always blow off their work in the past, but the threshold was higher; to go fishing you had to get your pole and worms, maybe pack a lunch. You had to walk all the way to your friend's house and then walk to town to see a movie. In today's world, many students have movies in their pockets (that is, on their iPhones) and numerous ways to contact and hang out with each other. These aren't bad things, but they are far easier and thus more seductive than they used to be. Who wants to read chapter three when you can watch Star Wars for the tenth time?

Interestingly, however, philosophy has a different relationship to history. Although a bit of history helps explain larger trends and interests among philosophers, their ideas to stand on their own more easily. One can read a dialogue by Plato and not have to know that it's from Greece, that it's 2,400 years old, or that it's pre-modern (although these things will help). Understanding that Kant is responding to Hume helps Kantian ideas make more sense, but it's not necessary; Kant can stand on his own. Philosophy's rational underpinnings really show here – the dependence on rationalism means that philosophy doesn't need history quite as intimately as theology does (that's not to say that philosophy can escape it, but that it is more independent of it). Theology is more rooted, as we've come to realize, in narrative and history, and so the Enlightenment project failed.

Lessing's ditch remains, which in the end is just fine. We ourselves are, after all, creatures of history.

The Book of Proverbs and a Wisdomless Culture

It's fair to say that the book of Proverbs is little used today. Rarely is it studied or preached from. In contrast, my grandmother's small Gideon Bible has only the New Testament and Proverbs (along with the Psalms) – indicative of how important these texts were. One might think a small Bible would include Exodus (with Moses and the Law), or one of the prophets, but in prior decades the Proverbs and Psalms were chosen as especially important for Christian study. There was also a tendency in former generations to quote a Biblical proverb at an apt teaching moment.

In our current culture, narcissism and materialism dominate, while wisdom and virtue are mostly ignored. David Ford has mounted a push to restore Christian wisdom to theology and the church, but his is a lone voice. As Alasdair MacIntyre and then the Radical Orthodoxy theologians have argued, we are losing our language (and thus appetite) for the virtues and for a shared moral vision. We are left with various opinions, caucuses, entertainment, and consumerism, where we can get what we want when we want. Universities are becoming resort-ified, akin to nice resorts with terrific facilities and spas, and plagiarism is common. And yet, we are left to bowl alone.

In opposition to our larger culture is the book of Proverbs and its attempt to shrewd, wise, and virtuous. Wealth and success are worthy of pursuit and honor, but they are worthless in comparison with the life lived well. So, is there connection that we don't read Proverbs anymore, and we live in such a materialistic, narcissistic, and quick-to-cheat culture?

Karl Barth, Pankokrator

In preparing for my Introduction to Christian Theology class, I've been reading Alister McGrath's Christian Theology: An Introduction (Wiley-Blackwell, 2011). It's no surprise that St. Augustine towers throughout the book, as the one who developed the early church's thought on sacraments, grace and sin (as with the Donatist and Pelagian controversies), creation, evil, free will, the Trinity, church and state, and so on.

The other surprise, though, is how seminal Karl Barth has been, beyond even the neo-orthodox movement. Barth restored interest in the Trinity, the church, believer's baptism, the problem of evil, natural theology, predestination, universalism, the resurrection, science, and the Bible. Last semester I learned how important Barth has been for Christian ethics, as he was the innovator for what is now the ecclesial school of thought – Hauerwas, Yoder, MacIntyre, Wells, Quash, and others. Barth's influence has been larger than the neo-orthodox movement in theology, or as a major turning point in twentieth century theology; his influence has made him a giant in the theological field, in the category of Augustine and Aquinas. Only time will tell if that influence continues, but at this point it shows no sign of abating. So his reputation is true: he is the greatest theologian since Martin Luther (or, if you're Pope Pius XII, Thomas Aquinas).

The Influence of Karl Barth on Christian Ethics

I was interested to read how Karl Barth is considered the father of the current turn in Christian ethics to "ecclesial ethics," meaning the work of Yoder, Hauerwas, O'Donovan, and MIlbank. I've always thought of Barth as the Great Dogmatician, and yes there is ethical thought throughout the Church Dogmatics, but I had not thought of him as an important ethicist in his own right.

According to Introducing Christian Ethics, by Samuel Wells & Ben Quash, he was the primary catalyst for this renewed interest in Christian ethics in moving beyond a rationalistic, Western, philosophical, and universal conception of ethics, and a return to a more ecclesial, church-centered approach--which makes sense, as it is the Church Dogmatics, after all. Yet I had not really thought of Barth as an ethicist in his own right, but primarily as a systematic theologian. This insight shows not only the interconnectedness of theology and ethics (and especially a theological ethics, naturally), but the huge influence of Barth on current theological thought.

Quash and Wells helpfully demarcate three approaches for Christian ethics: universal (the most common approach in ethical thought, rooted in philosophical thought, Kant, and the Enlightenment), subversive (the more recent concerns of Marxism, liberation theology, and feminism to restore context and culture to ethical thought), and then ecclesial. Ecclesial is a return to an emphasis on the church as the church; like subversive ethics, it is concerned with context and history, in contrast to the rationalistic and prescinded approach of universal ethics (where the concern is solely for any rational moral agent).

Ecclesial ethics is an attempt to remove Christian ethical thought from the university and the philosophers, and restore it to Christians and theologians actively pursuing lives of faith and action. It has certainly enlivened the study of Christian ethics.