Tolkien's Talking: Theology of Glory vs Theology of the Cross

A short post - but not a 'filler'. [EDIT: It was short at some point!] I haven't blogged for a while, mostly because I've been busy turning my life upside down. This post is in some degree inevitably introspective, but I hope it is not indulgent. 

I read rather a lot of theology (to the point of indulgence) - but every now and again some of it breaks through and actually serves to change how I live: Martin Luther dichotomised two theologies - the theology of glory and the theology of the cross. 

Theology of Glory

Forde explains that a theology of  glory assumes "that what we need is optimistic encouragement, some flattery, some positive thinking, [and] some support to build our self-esteem."

A theology of glory, when looking at going into ministry, will look at gifting and appearance - will affirm, as it were, the incidentals of who we are. A theology of glory will allow a 'calling' or 'gifting' (not to equate the two!) to supercede any defects in character or lack of maturity - to go forward immediately, armed with gifts, and try to achieve for the kingdom.

This theology believes that God's workers must be strong and self-confident. That we should show God's power through our own.

Luther says that the theologian of glory "does not know God hidden in suffering. Therefore he prefers works to suffering, glory to the cross, strength to weakness, [and] wisdom to folly"

If you allow this not to be trite, it won't be: Gandalf explains these theologies:

Theology of the Cross

This is how Luther describes 'Cross theology': "Through the cross, works are dethroned and the 'old Adam', who is especially edified by works, is crucified. It is impossible for a person not to be puffed up by his 'good works' unless he has first been deflated and destroyed by suffering and evil until he knows that he is worthless and that his works are not his but God's."

The theology of the cross is foolishness to the world. It says that humility and humiliation come before glory.

The theology of the cross remembers two things plainly - one: that we bring nothing. We are sinful and simple folk.

Secondly, it remembers that Jesus, because he was in his very nature God, did not cling to his equality with God, but instead went in all obedience and humility to death - even the most humiliating of deaths. And thus he was glorified (Philippians 2:6-11). 

I wonder if this will ever fully seep in for me; though I sincerely pray that it will. 

The bit where I talk about me

A couple of years ago, I had to leave university for a while because I was ill (I later packed it in altogether). My friends had all given me a lovely send-off, but one, instead, wrote a letter and sent it first class to my home so that the next day, when I woke up, literally hundreds of miles from where I wanted to be, and was feeling thoroughly sorry for myself,  then the post would arrive.

The letter told the story of Isaac Watts - who had to give up his ministry because of ill-health. But his writings and hymns in that time were the lasting parts of his ministry - affecting Dodderidge and thus William Wilberforce. That was what I chose to listen to, walked straight to my desk and got reading and writing (I haven't really stopped since).

But I found the letter again, buried in my bureau, about six months ago and read two sentences that I'd chosen to forget. "I'm not saying that the reason for your illness is that God is going to use you in the same way. Be open to what the Lord may have to teach you and how He may want to prepare you and refine you."

I was not. What I could have learned in that time was lost in a desire to prove myself.

I'm partly writing this because of a chance reading this morning of this in a letter written by John Keats: "Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul"

You can walk into a room and put on a sticker that says 'Chief of Theologians' or claim in your private thoughts to be 'Chief of Preachers' - however deluded these things may or may not be, the substantive point is that they are irrelevant. 

The minister's job is for the 'Chief of Sinners'. 

A Halfling's Call

I can flit between the Boromirs and Faramirs - between self-confidence (achieving) and self-doubt (proving); and I do. It is men, you'll remember, who are most easily seduced by the power of the ring.

But some way down the road, the theology of glory will lead to a sudden, crippling realisation that we 'can't do it'. If you can abide with a second Tolkien video - this will give you shivers - Frodo says he 'can't do this' - Sam says 'I know'... 

We do this because it's good and right; not because we are strong and good. Because we cling to goodness. 

I read a book recently that another friend had sent me (- I think with the sole purpose of kicking my backside). It mentioned a man whom I've looked up to for many years:

"In his living room with tea, I once asked Jerram why he hadn't written more books over the years... I told him how so many of us longed to hear more from him and want to learn more. Pausing and shrugging his shoulders, he smiled broadly... What he said put ministry ambition and the doctrine of creation into perspective. "I'd like to write more," he said, "but I really enjoy my garden.""

(Buy the book)

Whether to be Samwise the gardener, a bloke on the rigs, a barista or barrister, or, for some, to become ministers straight away in life,  we will none of us be in a position for ministry while we are men. It's a Halfling's call. 

Slavery, Poverty, and the Bible's hidden code to get rich.

This is a broad-sweeping post. I will write more in the future on all of these things. I just want to create a platform first: looking at the voices of those who cry against their pain and shame, the voices of those who say it doesn't matter, and the voice of Jesus, who identifies with one of these to the extent that he says he is them.

There is a joy that our generation experiences that our parents and grandparents never knew. A flutter of the heart, an affirmation of identity:

Taking the buzzfeed quiz... and being told your personality is the same as that most admirable of fictional characters.

I have amassed a collective heroic identity of Gandalf, Sherlock, Chandler, Ned Stark and many others. 

I know what you're thinking - how could such a wise, smart, witty and downright good man even exist? What can I say? (I missed out that I've also been ascribed the race of orc and been sorted into Hufflepuff)

Slavery

Anyway, welcome to my '12 years a slave' quiz:

Congratulations. You are Benedict Cumberbatch.

(So was I. Yay!)

If you haven't seen it (do!) then let me explain. Cumberbatch is a pretty good chap. He buys a violin for his slave, treats him with some dignity, clearly hates a lot of aspects of slavery (except the product of his industry), and tries to protect his slave from violence...

...At least, he tries to protect him from violence on his own land. I'm trying to use as few spoilers as possible. Benedict's character is faced with a situation where his hired hand wants to kill a slave. He 'protects' the slave - not by giving him freedom - but by selling him to someone who he admits he knows is a hard and wicked master.

But the suffering will be out of sight. Benedict's conscience is suitably protected.

Perhaps you know now where I'm going. I'm sorry I tricked you - I lured you in with the promise that you're like the most devilishly handsome, deep-voiced, dreamy Englishman ever to walk the earth. 

What I'm suggesting is that we've come a long way since we thought slaves working the land was a fine sight. In fact, we hate the sight of it. Eugh! No, no. We've moved our slavery far away from us. To other countries, where we don't feel the jabs of conscience, only the comfy tread of slave-made trainers, the creamy taste of poverty-picked coffee. I am not judging you. We are all trapped in this - we don't know which companies use slave/crimilly low-waged labour - because it's not their priority to reveal these things - it's up to us consumers to create a situation where they can't afford not to let us know that they pay their workers. 

Just like we've created a market where companies will proudly declare their food 'organic' and know that we'll pay more and buy more of it. Eggs are 'free-range' and jumpers are '100% cashmere'. 

Maybe we could create a market where they'll sell more if they 'didn't abuse humans and increase the suffering of the desperate'. Not a catchy label, but you'd almost hope it goes without saying - I mean, we were indignant when we found out we'd been eating horse! Surely knowing that people aren't abused in the process of getting our stuff, is more important even than knowing if our food says 'moo' or 'neigh'?

I could finish off the post and drum it in. But I don't think it necessary and I can't tell you anything else. I can tell you that at the end of this slavery survey,  you will be hyperbolically told how many slaves personally work for you (which they demonstrably don't), but you will also see just how pervasive the problem is. And it will show you which companies to petition. That's the stage we're at - we can't just end it - we need to transform this entire, hellish market.

Poverty

That seems heavy enough, but I want to talk more broadly about poverty.

It has become fashionable for the ostensibly conservative Christians to pretend that we are not called to care about such things. There is no mandate for social justice, we are told. The world will one day burn, and all that will be left is the saved - those who know Christ. Therefore all that matters is evangelism? We care not for the temporary suffering of those destined for eternal suffering. Is that not simply white-washing a tomb - putting a sticky plaster on an open wound? The thing we need to do is make sure we 'get heaven'. 

There are many, many problems with that. I shall write more on it in the future.

For now, we shall say simply that it is surely the devil's jackpot if we both ignore suffering and decide that what we want is heaven, not Jesus. We become the Pelagians, but without the good deeds.

Because if we love Jesus (as opposed to 'paradise'), then we shall clothe and feed the naked and hungry. It's really entirely that simple. We long for Christ, not 'heaven'. This is the gospel - that we are no longer slaves, but sons of God. Not slaves to sin, but children who copy their father.

It's Islam that promises heaven: 72 virgins (or white raisins, depending on your translation), but Allah is nowhere to be seen. The glory of eternity is the presence of the Christ that we love. And the Christ that we love says that to ignore the poor is to ignore him (Matthew 25).

The 'code'

You will notice that I'm zooming out: slavery, to poverty, to the general call to compassion and holiness. 

The problem is that poverty is now invisible. Even 'visible' poverty (I live in Edinburgh - there is a LOT of it) is invisible to us, because we are inoculated against it: The other day I was walking back from work, at 10pm on a Friday. It was freezing. There was a group of girls ready to go out, queuing to get into a club. One of them had such cold hands that she put one on the back of another's neck and she squealed and giggled at the shock. Directly beneath them - there was perhaps a foot of distance between them - sat a beggar, huddled against the same biting frost.

The cold was but a gimmick. Poverty was a gimmick. There was an invisible man next to them. 

More on all of that at a later date. For now, I must make clear that this is not a judgemental post - I have walked past coatless, gloveless and hungry people enough times as to utterly shame me. But I also don't want to forget to give you the Biblical code for riches before I finish!!

"Give all you have. Your reward is in heaven."