Sound

Yesterday was good. Early awoke into the peace of Scipio Creek and Apalachicola River beyond, with Magnolia Bluff further on and further east, and Apalachicola behind me in so many ways.

One of so many ways is leaving Apalachicola with intact my lifelong experience that to be respected, effective and competent, sound leadership, military in peacetime and pastoral anytime, must be from the heart, patient and kind, not jealous, not resentful, love and loved. Lovingkindness. See 1 Corinthians 13. Where humans are involved, we don't always see this, even in the church.

Drive from Apalach east on US98, Hurricane Michael damaged roads more than buildings or trees, and trash on the ground way inland, indicating storm surge sweeping in on the east side rather than the high winds that devastated us on the west side of the storm. Picking up 319 et al some'ers after Panacea, which I enjoy riding through as memories stir. Almost straight north through the center of Tallahassee, slightly northeast to our hotel, where the internet won’t connect but the newly renovated room is nice. Supper with beloveds, Cajun adventure, spicy, I like spicy that brings the tingling sensation round the edge of my tongue. 

Highlight of Saturday, in the auditorium at Chiles High School, the 2019 Big Bend All District Band Concert with middle school band and high school band, relax in the seat and sink into paradise. "Moscow 1941". Charlotte playing trumpet in the all-district middle school band. "Sound Asleep" in loving memory of a friend who died sudden and unexpected.



This morning from Fr Richard Rohr (scroll down), melding Franciscan theology with my own theology always sets Eucharistic Prayer I at risk. As with the music and poetry of many good old hymns, I love the sound of Cranmer’s rhythm and prose notwithstanding that his medieval, Reformation as Fr Rohr has it, theology fails the test. Gone forever, victim of liturgical reform, Anglicanism was once a sound, an incomparable sound in worship, euphonium, good sound to the ear and heart if no longer sound theology to a pondering mind. 

T+ 


Richard Rohr's daily meditation Sunday 3Feb

For most of church history, no single consensus prevailed on what Christians mean when we say, “Jesus died for our sins.” But in recent centuries, one theory did become mainstream. It is often referred to as the “penal substitutionary atonement theory,” especially once it was further developed during the Reformation. [1] Substitutionary atonement is the theory that Christ, by his own sacrificial choice, was punished in the place of humans, thus satisfying the “demands of justice” so that God could forgive our sins.

This theory of atonement ultimately relies on another commonly accepted notion—the “original sin” of Adam and Eve, which, we were told, taints all human beings. But much like original sin (a concept not found in the Bible but developed by Augustine in the fifth century), most Christians have never been told how recent and regional this explanation is or that it relies upon a retributive notion of justice. Nor are they told that it was honest enough to call itself a “theory,” even though some groups take it as long-standing dogma.

Unfortunately, this theory has held captive our vision of Jesus, making our view very limited and punitive. The commonly accepted atonement theory led to some serious misunderstandings of Jesus’ role and Christ’s eternal purpose, reaffirmed our narrow notion of retributive justice, and legitimated a notion of “good and necessary violence.” It implied that God the Father was petty, offended in the way that humans are, and unfree to love and forgive of God’s own volition. This is a very untrustworthy image of God which undercuts everything else.

I take up this subject with both excitement and trepidation because I know that substitutionary atonement is central to many Christians’ faith. But the questions of why Jesus died and what is the meaning and message of his death have dominated the Christian narrative, often much more than his life and teaching. As some have said, if this theory is true, all we needed were the last three days or even three hours of Jesus’ life. In my opinion, this interpretation has kept us from a deep and truly transformative understanding of both Jesus and Christ.

Salvation became a one-time transactional affair between Jesus and his Father, instead of an ongoing transformational lesson for the human soul and for all of history. I believe that Jesus’ death on the cross is a revelation of the infinite and participatory love of God, not some bloody payment required by God’s offended justice to rectify the problem of sin. Such a story line is way too small and problem-oriented.