HOMILETICS

Justified Unforgiveness

In the last blog, Amery’s “virtue of resentment” was discussed, however summarily—the idea that anger and resentment has a proper role in the process toward reconciliation and justice, and in addressing this, he raises the interesting notion of the role of emotion in ethics.

Henriksen, in his essay on Brudholm’s critique of Amery, offers four scenarios, to wit:

• Justified forgiveness: by anyone ready to freely forgive, for whatever motives might have (or not, cf. the last option), the situation where one is notcoerced to forgive, but basically forgives out of grace.

• Justified unforgiveness: by anyone not ready to forgive because the adversary shows no remorse or regret, and no willingness to rectify the mistakes or violations done. I take Améry’s position to be close to this one.

• Unjustified forgiveness: the hastily offered forgiveness that is an immature attempt to get beyond the problematic situation without really mending its cause or effects.

• Unjustified unforgiveness: this is actually no option, as long as forgiveness is a free and unmerited gift. One can only forgive the unforgiveable (that which cannot be reasonably seen as worthy of forgiveness), and accordingly, one can forgive only without justifying and giving good reasons. Unjustified unforgiveness should be seen as the natural, and morally valid, initial point of standing for anyone who relates morally and psychologically sound to a violation against herself or others.

Here again Henriksen talks about being able to only forgive the unforgiveable, so I obviously need to take up a more careful reading of what he, Brudholm and Amery are saying, because, right now, it’s not clear.

Henriksen goes on to say that “Forgiveness cannot be justified from the past. It has to emerge from a (often shared) vision of the future, one in which one realizes that freedom from the conditions of the past may emerge out of a process of forgiveness. As such, itpresupposes a shared world. How to develop this situation is the task for justice, for reconciliation, and, sometimes, possibly then, also for forgiveness.

Paul Newman and Plastic Jesus

Paul Newman, dead at 83.

A real movie star. One of the few such creatures one could genuinely admire.

His interests went beyond the silver screen. His philanthropy is well known. His line of salad dressings has become a model for philanthropic entrepreneurialism. His long marriage to Joanne Woodward, including occasional screen appearances together.

And he made some memorable movies. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and of course, Cool Hand Luke where he takes up a banjo, strums and sings about his “plastic Jesus.” That’s all “cool hand” had, was a plastic Jesus and the virgin Mary so “he ain’t scary” cause she’s assured him he’s not going to hell. He doesn’t care if “it rains or freezes long as I got my plastic Jesus riding on the dashboard of my car.”

Probably that’s all a lot of people got … is a plastic Jesus.

Anyway, I loved Paul Newman. Loved his movies. Gonna miss not seeing him in one more film. If you want to see him singing “Plastic Jesus” you can see it here. Or watch here.

Resentment As Virtue

I’ve been doing some reading on FORGIVENESS, lately in Ars Disputandi and pass on some triangulated stuff — Henriksen on Brudholm on Amery—that I think might stimulate your own thinking on the subject.

This could get long, and I don’t believe in long, tedious blogs, so I am going to spit this up into two blogs. I will post the second tomorrow.

Forgiveness is a much-discussed concept, and for obvious reasons among those with pastoral concerns but also for those for whom the larger picture of social justice and reconciliation are of paramount importance. I’ve always been a little suspicious of the call to forgive when the crime seems unforgiveable. Homiletics worked on this angle a number of years ago in a piece called “Forget Forgiveness” (March 5, 2000—a more conventional treatment is found in a work of just a few weeks ago, “Dirty Jobs,” September 14, 2008).

Now Thomas Brudholm has written a book in which he discusses Jean Amery’s notion of the virtue of resentment (Resentment’s Virtue: Jean Amery and the Refusal to Forgive [Philadephia: Temple University Press, 2008). Forgiveness is not an unqualified good, and proper anger and resentment—forgiveness withheld, or indeed impossible—is not only ethically permissible but appropriate. This book has in turn been discussed by Jan-Olav Henriksen of the Norweigan School of Theology (author, among several works, of The Reconstruction of Religion: Lessing, Kierhegaard and Nietzsche) in an essay posted at ArsDisputandi.org, “The difficulties of forgiving—or why not to reconcile with the past?”

I’m reproducing here only some bullet points that Henrikson makes about his own views

1. One can forgive only the unforgiveable. [I don’t follow Henrikson here. Perhaps writing in a second language is a problem. It makes more sense to me if it reads: One can forgive only the forgiveable.]
2. One must not forgive—anything.
3. Forgiveness is accordingly, both from a theological and a philosophical point
of view: pure, unconditional gift.
4. Hence there can be no claim for, and no demand for forgiveness. There is
no commandment ‘Thou shall forgive.’
5. There can be no true reconciliation without justice (presupposing a common
moral standard by which acts are assessed).

More tomorrow (Tuesday, September 30)

Today is National Punctuation Day!!!!!

its national punctuation day for real national punctuation day

why the need for punctuation anyway do punctuation rules include capitalization rules it was these punctuation rules that drove me crazy when I was in middle school and they continue to bedevil me

the apostle paul wasn’t great on the use of punctuation either witness this lovely sentence from ephesians I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. of course there is a comma here and there and you finally reach a period

some writers use punctuation as metaphors for certain events as for example those who might say that the cross was gods exclamation point and it is clear that certain theological traditions prefer some punctuation marks above others in your fundamentalist traditions for example youre going to find a lot of periods fundamentalist theology is pretty final and declarative whereas process theologians use a ton of commas and plenty of ellipsi because theres plenty missing in what theyre trying to say and evangelicals don’t mind using periods and will throw in commas once in a while but theyre using more and more parentheses needing as they do to clarify what they mean and why theyre doing what theyre doing mainliners valuing conversation as they do either don’t use much punctuation at all because theyre always talking and everyone is trying to talk at once emergent churches love the question mark because that’s what they do ask questions and leave it to others to provide answers this is all speculative of course and I propose punctuation as a rubric for theological understanding only as a way to promote the conversation about how all of gods children go about serving god in different ways

my favorite punctuation mark is the em dash because it somehow keeps the sentence moving forward while allowing me to make quick and short tangents and is more direct and masculine than the slight girly curly little comma don’t see hemminway using commas

come to think of it punctuation is quite a human invention isn’t it does god think and write with punctuation don’t think so hebrew doesnt have punctuation does it at least not much and if god doesnt see the need for punctuation then who am i to presume that ive found a better way to communicate than almighty god not me thats who

come to think of it hebrew doesn’t have vowels either so I think I will stop using punctuation AND vowels in order to be more godlike in all aspects of my life

s gss thts t fr nw ctch y nxt tm.

The Yankees and the House that Jesus Built

Yankee Stadium. Gone.

The House that Babe Built. It’s sort of inconceivable that the last game has been played. And it’s a shame that we just can’t seem to build anything that will last, or that we want to last. Wouldn’t it have been great for dads in 2050 to have been able to take their kids to Yankee stadium and say, “Your great-great-great granddaddy used to come here to watch the Yankees clobber the Sox.” Well, that’s another blog.

I was at Yankee Stadium once, but my memories are more connected with Comiskey Park on the south side in Chicago—which also was relegated to the dust bins of history. Wrigley Field—went there a lot, too, as a kid. I was in town when Ernie Banks was playing, and when the White Sox had the best double-play combination in baseball, Luis Aparicio and Nellie Fox. Fox went for a stretch in the 50s when he led the American League in hits.

We waited for the Yankees to come to town. The Sox would throw Billy Donovan at them, with Lollar behind the plate, and Lopez in the dugout managing. Minnie Minoso would invariably strike out with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth. And so on.

I remember when “The Mick” died: August 13, 1995. What a great talent and tortured life.

Yankee Stadium. People flock to go to this house of worship. And now there’s a new one that will begin to build its own traditions before, in about 75 years or sooner, they’ll tear it down, and build a new one.

So how might we comparison of the House that Babe Built, with the House that Jesus Built?

• A crowd, hopefully enthusiastic, although they boo poor pitching/preaching

• Great singing
• Organ playing
• One has the WAVE, the other a lot of standing up and sitting down.
• The Eucharistic elements: Beer and Cracker Jack. Church: wafers and grape juice.
• Both have spectators watching a team playing
• Both are asked to cough up money, some at the door, others after they’re in the door
• Both have a “seventh inning stretch”/ Passing the peace
• One plays on a field, the other in a sanctuary
• Both spectators come to watch a contest of adversaries, good versus evil, and an ultimate judge who dispenses judgment whether it is good or bad.
• Church doesn’t have instant replay
• Both the ball game and the worship service can seem insufferably long.
• Both pitchers and preachers take too long between pitches.
• It’s not over till the fat lady sings.
• When you leave Yankee Stadium the game’s over; when you leave church, the game’s just beginning.
• Church doesn’t have game analysis by media commentators. That takes place over Sunday dinner at KFC.
• At Yankee Stadium the players steal bases, at church, our preachers try to get people on base.
• The seats in both venues are generally uncomfortable.
• You may not like the person you’re seated next to.
• At Yankee Stadium, it’s okay to cheer loudly and enthusiastically; in church, if you say so much as an “Amen,” people might think you’re a fan-atic.
• It’s more embarrassing to get up and go to the bathroom in church than at Yankee Stadium.
• Both have an array of saints appropriate to the respective houses: Ruth, Gerig, DiMaggio, Jackson, et al.; Peter, Paul and Mary, et al.
• Both venues or kingdoms ruled by God; in the one, Steinberner, in the other, well—God.

Okay, this is sort of playing itself out, as it were. Maybe you have more ideas …

The Last Shall Be First ... But Not Necessarily in Texas

“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

 

But not necessarily in Texas.

 

This is from the gospel reading for Sunday, September 21. I know this is probably a day late and a dollar short, but I got an e-mail from a Homiletics subscriber in Texas who was putting finishing touches on his sermon Saturday night. If you are checking this blog Sunday morning before going to church, it’s an illustration you can use—if you’re preaching on the Matthew text. Here is what Jeff Gantz had to say:

 

As a preacher in Texas, who just got his power back tonight ( Saturday), I am burning the midnight oil for a sermon. Well, no longer burning the oil—I have light! I wanted to pass an idea on to you about the gospel. Matthew 20: 1-16, the last shall be the first and the first shall be last. Jesus is meddling with our understanding of who deserves what and how much. Down here in Texas, we stood in a lot of lines after IKE. A line for ice, water, gas, food, power, stores, etc. Everyone wanted to be FIRST. But Jesus seems to be saying that this is not the kingdom. God likes to switch the line around and bless those who don’t “deserve” it first.  I think tomorrow’s sermon  will be about waiting in line. Maybe a bunch of stories about how it feels to be in the back of the line, and have someone bless me before it’s my turn. Bad news for those who are always first. Good news for those who find themselves in the back

Thought for the Day: Reinhold Niebuhr

Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime,
Therefore, we are saved by hope.

Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history;
Therefore, we are saved by faith.

Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone.
Therefore, we are saved by love.

No virtuous act is quite a virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as from our own;

Therefore, we are saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness.

To watch the video of Mike Wallace's 1958 interview with Niebhur, click here.

Essay on Robert Bresson, "Patron Saint of Filmmaking"

Eric David, who writes the FILM CLIP IDEAS for Homiletics has just published another article with Christianity Today, this time on French director Robert Bresson, pictured here, and justly called the "patron saint" of filmmaking. The article is titled: "Finding God in Ordinary Life." Read it here. 

The Rains Came Down

“The rains came down and the floods came up,
The rains came down and the floods came up,
The rains came down and the floods came up,
and the house on the sand went SPLAT!”

 

I have a daughter living in the Houston area.

 

She reports that she’s never, ever, been through a night like the other night when Hurricane Ike--otherwise known as an "act of God--bellowed and roared through the south Texas coastals, kicking it every which way, including loose. She lives in a rather substantial brick and stone house, built only a couple of years ago. She said she could feel the wind trying to suck the house off of its foundation.

 

The noise was otherworldly. She was in the vortex of an experience unlike anything she’d ever known.

 

Some people refused to leave, and now many need to be rescued in spite of themselves.

 

They're hymn-singing folk down in south Texas and east Texas. But those fools who were singing "I Shall Not Be--I Shall Not Be Moved," quickly changed their tune to, "Lord Lift Me Up ... and let me stand/ by faith on heaven's table land/ a higher plane than I have found/ Lord, plant my feet on higher ground." My daughter was in her hurricane closet singing, "Nearer, My God to Thee."

 

Human nature, ain’t it? Thank the Lord for people willing to rescue us, even when we don’t want to be rescued.

 

The storm, now long gone, reminds of the parable Jesus taught about the perils of paying lip service to God. Not everyone who says, Lord, Lord, gets into the kingdom. Then he tells this story about the man who built his house on sand. And then: “The rains came down …”

 

Sometimes, we don’t know how much sand is around us, until it rains a little. That’s one value of rain. You find out pretty fast where the sand is and where the leaks are.

 

Then—you can set out a few buckets.

 

Or you can fix the roof, and drill down to solid rock.

 

Bona Fide

We’ve had some real estates transactions going on in our lives these days, and a phrase that’s been popping up in conversation and documents is: good faith.

It strikes me as a curious expression. Good faith. What does that look like?

Bad faith. What does that look like?

I did a little pawing around in some Internet closets, and found that the expression has strong legal implications. Law students will spend some of their time during their three or four years of study dealing with the issue of good faith.

Here’s some stuff I found (just skim over if you find yourself falling asleep):

Honesty; a sincere intention to deal fairly with others.
Good faith is an abstract and comprehensive term that encompasses a sincere belief or motive without any malice or the desire to defraud others. It derives from the translation of the Latin term bona fide, and courts use the two terms interchangeably.
The term good faith is used in many areas of the law but has special significance in commercial law. A good faith purchaser for value is protected by the Uniform Commercial Code, which every state has adopted. Under sections 1-201(9) and 2-403 of the code, a merchant may keep possession of goods that were bought from a seller who did not have title to the goods, if the merchant can show he or she was a good faith purchaser for value. To meet this test, the person must be a merchant, must have demonstrated honesty in the conduct of the transaction concerned, and must have observed reasonable commercial standards of fair dealing in the trade. A buyer would likely meet these requirements if the purchase proceeded in the ordinary course of business. If, on the other hand, the purchase took place under unusual or suspicious circumstances, a court might conclude that the buyer lacked good faith.

Good faith, in real estate, might need to be demonstrated, i.e. you may need to plunk down $1,000 to show that your interest in a property is genuine, not feigned.

Christians, of all people, must be good faith people, not bad faith peopl. Their faith must be good, i.e. honest, sincere, demonstrable, without malice, etc.

An additional note: The Latin for this expression is bona fide, which technically means “with good faith” (the plural bona fides), but in our usage today, bona fides has become corrupted to mean “credentials” or “proof of authenticity.” If you present your “bona fides” you are presenting the documents which demonstrate you are who you say you are.

And if you say of someone, “He is a genuine, bonified, redneck,” – or cowboy, or doctor, you mean he is “boni-fied,” or has his bona fides.

That’s who we are: people of good faith. We’re bonified.

Or ought to be.