The Eucharist as an Exercise for the Next World

The celebration of the Eucharist is a type of the life in the next world. Theodore of Mopsuestia, one who perhaps more deeply than any of the Fathers understood the typological character of the Church emphasized this. The sacraments were given for to be able to learn to live after the manner of "Citizens of the Kingdom of God".

In other words, when we celebrate the Eucharist we are learning something about how life in the next world will be. I think one aspect of the Eucharist is the very special sense of communion we experience in it. As I wrote in my last post, it is not a communion with people we are similar to, with people we like or get along with. Rather, it is a communion with people we in this world find it difficult to love.

We we go to the altar to receive bread and wine, we are, within the borders of this ritual, allowed to let all those things we normally base our appreciation of other people go. When we gather around the table things like class, race, gender, political affiliation, manners, personality - all such things are of no importance because the communion is not based on human love but on divine giving. Within the ritual we carry out a kind of pre-practice of how we should relate to other people in real life. Because we have the safe framework of the ritual we can experience this kind of "heavenly" communion here in life, and then slowly learn to take this experience into our daily life and let it transform our relationships to those we meet.

Guilt and Salvation

In my last few post I have explored three aspects of human existence and how the problems of Identity, Death and Meaning are overcome in Christian doctrine by the activity of the Holy Trinity. I will now try to say something about salvation by drawing on the ideas explored in these post.

Salvation is an eschatological concept, there is no doubt about that. But this eschatological salvation cannot be known by any other means than by the partial salvation we experience in this life. In this life, faith promises salvation from the forces that tries to destroy our identity, exploit our fears and rob our lives of meaning. In a culture in decline it is not difficult to identify these forces: They are the very same forces that are destroying the planet. What we need to be saved from is the system that turns humans into consumers and that does not value the things that are important to human beings: beauty, truth, relationships, nature, hope. By exploiting these values for commercial purposes they are all destroyed.

It is not possible for a human being to escape this system completely. This is something the ascetics of the early Church testify: When you go into the desert you bring the World with you. We are all part of this system, it exists both outside and inside of us. The salvation that the Christian faith promises is not an escape from the system, it is a way to become independent of it, so that it looses the power over us. This freedom is something we observe in the gospel's portraits of Jesus. He lived in a way that the powers in society could not manipulate him in any way. Not even by killing him.

When we do things that comply with the system we feel guilt. Guilt is the consequence of acts that go against our identity, acts that try to escape our fears (by ignoring them), acts that accept the superficial over the meaningful. The tradition in (western) Christianity to explain guilt in juridical terms is most unhelpful. But guilt understood as what we feel (and I don't mean feel in a superficial way, these are deep feelings) when we betray ourselves is a powerful concept. Understood this way, we can say that Christianity offers salvation from our guilt. Because it is this kind of guilt that the Church teaches that God is willing to forgive us. When you do wrong to you brother, it is you brother you need to ask forgiveness of. But when you betray yourself, you need God.

But salvation is not only the forgiveness of guilt in this sense. It is also the attainment of a new freedom, and for this forgiveness may be a prerequisite.

When talking about salvation in eschatological terms we may get away with abstract notions, but when we understand salvation as something we can experience something of here, we need to be very concrete. We need to address how a Christian person in a real way can be more free from the influences from the forces that control us. This is the purpose of the Church: to help humans in this world become free, because by such acts the Church points towards the future existence.

The Church as Icon of the Next World

There is a point with my recent venture into eschatology. Even though I can feel the laughter of the worlds exegetes ringing in my ears whenever I quote a passage of scripture, I wanted to establish that we cannot reach a verdict about the nature of the coming existence by reason or revelation. Still I have argued that the belief in a life beyond death is essential to Christianity and that it is something we cannot do without, no matter how many sequels are produced in the “Left Behind” series. And here’s why:

The Christian Church is nothing more and nothing else than a projection of the future life on this one. Just as humans are imperfect images of God, the Church is an imperfect image of the future world.

This means that everything that the Church does – as Church ­– is reflections of the coming world. From providing shelter for alcoholics to celebrating the Eucharist – in all the Church does – as Church – we may catch a glimpse of exactly what our hope is.

I will explore in my following posts various aspects of the Christian Church and life as a Christian from this perspective, to finally say something about salvation, which must be understood with all these matters in mind.

I will also work more on ecclesiology, probably the most important aspect of theology in our time. Here I will only say that in a declining world, it is the mission of the Church to in an honest way point towards the new world. In a culture that is destructing it self, the Church must somehow be the one thing that points toward something different. The Church, as the image, or properly, the icon of the future world, must embody the Christian hope for all of creation.

The Need for Eschatology

I said a while back that a Christianity that focuses to much on the next world, so that it sees as its main (or only) purpose in “saving souls” in order to get people into heaven risks disregarding life in this world to the point of accepting a way of life that increases the suffering in the world and destroys the environment. A mentality that says that all that matters is to get people saved doesn’t worry about climate change or multinationals exploiting cheap labour.

But there is another extreme that is equally wrong. That is reducing the Christian eschatology to nothing but projections of ideals in this life on the next. This is an important aspect of eschatology, it is a form of critique of the present way of things, and can have a powerful homiletic impact. But if we reduce eschatology to this, then Christianity no longer has answers to some of the most important existential question humans ask.

I think the three most important existential questions in the human existence are: 1. the question of identity (Who am I?), 2. The question of meaning (Why am I here?) and 3. The question and fear of death. While Christianity can address question one rather well based on the doctrine of creation and by pointing to the example of Christ, the two latter are more or less dependent on the eschatology, at least in extreme situations.

The fear of death is not abolished by promising a life after death. This can have some effect, but it is not the central point of the Christian teaching on death. This I will return to in another post. But unless some kind of continuation beyond death is imagined, it is difficult to see what would be “Christian” about whatever answer one would formulate. Christ’s victory over death cannot be reduced to courage in face of our mortality.

The question of meaning, too, cannot be sufficiently (in a Christian way) answered without referring to life after death. Sure, in most lives it is meaningful enough to live life genuinely in harmony with one’s self in relationships with other humans. And this definitely is a Christian approach to meaning. Our life is meaningful when we live not for ourselves (by trying to be something on the merit of our own will), but for our neighbour (and thus becoming images of the Son who does not try to be the Father but lives in complete union with him).

But there are situations in this existence where such a life is impossible, for one reason or the other. We have to acknowledge that there are extreme cases where an individual cannot see any meaning at all with life. This would be situations of extreme suffering, caused by other human beings or by some natural cause, such as disease. In these cases Christian doctrine maintains that all life is meaningful, even if it is not possible to see any meaning here. The hope of a meaning that will be possible to apprehend only beyond death can be the only thing that gives strength to endure in an extreme situation.

The Body and the Self

Steve Blakemore had some very reasonable questions regarding my last post on the resurrection. Since this questions offer me the opportunity to clarify some ideas that are important to me I will respond in a new post. Thanks to Steve then for taking the time to investigate my reasoning.

First, Steve asks why I "think it unlikely that St. Paul did not envision a real physical resurrection?" While it is unlikely that this particular debate will ever reach a point where everyone agrees, I can only offer my two cents. First, the immediate problem I see is the assumption that we can agree on what a "real physical resurrection" would mean, not to mention know what St. Paul would mean with such a phrase. Both the terms "real" and "physical" are modern concepts. My point is that even if one would attest that Paul did in fact believe in a real physical resurrection, one would still have to address what this means. I guess my interpretation is an attempt to address that question.

I have of course some reasons to argue as I do. Ancient culture tended to use the word body in a variety of symbolical ways. The best example is probably Plato who sharply separated the human being in body and soul. However a closer examination shows that Plato is not so much talking about body and soul as we post-Descartes understands them, but as symbols of to ways to live: according to the body and according to the soul. (There is a great study on Plato's Phaedo by Illham Dillman. Very hard to find though). It is rather similar to Paul's dichotomy between spirit and flesh. Ideas like these are very widespread in the literature of the time, which makes it plausible to believe Paul to was using the body in a symbolical way.

Further, the NT seems to stress the discontinuity with the present body in the descriptions of the body after resurrection. In 1 Cor 15 Paul says: "All flesh is not the same: Men have one kind of flesh, animals have another, birds another and fish another. There are also heavenly bodies and there are earthly bodies; but the splendor of the heavenly bodies is one kind, and the splendor of the earthly bodies is another."And: "Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable." Finally he talks of a spiritual body which unless understood symbolically must be some kind of insolvable paradox.

The descriptions of Jesus body after the resurrection point in the same direction: the disciples did not recognize him, he moved through closed doors etc. There is also continuity: Jesu body still carried the marks of his suffering - maybe a symbol of how this aspect of Jesus life was a genuine part of his person, and thus survived death. But Jesus case is special, because he was not a sinner before death.

In other words what Paul calls the renewal of the body, is, I would argue, this process in which the person becomes "new again", by the removal of those aspect of the personality that are not genuine.

Steve also points out that the talk of "self" is modern and is at risk of anachronism. Obviously this risk is always present in any reading of an ancient text. With the word self I understand not only the conscious "I" of a person but also what we today call the subconscious. I think this term is useful, because the biblical symbols (body, soul, spirit) have very different connotations today than they had when Paul used them. This is extremely complex an area, and, yeah, there is always a risk of anachronism involved. But one does not avoid that risk by using the same words as the bible. Rather, I think the risk is greater if one uses biblical terms without defining them.

Finally, Steve felt my "focus on release from negative influences and being one's 'true self'" might lead to gnosticism. I think I steer clear of gnosticism by emphasizing that we can only understand what our true self really is after death, i.e. there is no true gnosis in this life; and by stressing that what I consider negative parts of the personality that will be discarded in resurrection is not the body in its materiality, but those elements that have become part of the personality because of lack of responsibility over one's person. I.e. I do not believe that there is a pure eternal soul that needs to be purified from material elements, but that a persons self is continously formed by genuine and false aspects, based on the choices the individual makes in freedom.

For further clarification see my post on sin.

The Resurrection of the Body: Becoming Whole

I think it is important to be aware of how little we as theologians can say about existence after death. If one wants to attack a persons faith with the weapons of reason, surely the post-mortem existence is the easiest target.

The bible actually has very little to say about this. The common conceptions about life after death are based much more on Virgil and Dante than on Scripture. In fact, I think one can argue that what the Christian tradition actually states about what comes after death is essentially “negative theology”, in the sense that if we combine these pieces of doctrine, we end up with concepts that are completely incomprehensible to the human mind. It is a firm belief of the Church that time will not be a part that existence. Now, this in itself makes all symbols we use to describe the future world of limited worth, because time is such a fundamental component in this existence. And if we add to this statement the notion of the resurrection of the body, the most important symbol of life beyond death in the NT, the last pieces of our pastoral images of heaven crumbles to dust. What kind of a body can we imagine without existence in time?

Paul, of course, in his first letter to the Corinthians (chapter 15), does combine these two statements. “So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable” (v. 42). It is fairly clear that Paul means something quite different with the body here than the physical body have/is in this life. I’m no exegete, but I think we can get a clue of what he is talking about from Romans 6. Here Paul seems to use the body as a symbol for what we have come to be, in the sense of a deviation from our true selves caused by life in the world. “The old self” (v. 6) is what has we have become because of original sin (in the sense I described it in my previous post – the sum of all the things that affect our personality but does not come from ourselves).

The imperishable body is our personality as it would stand, freed from this deviation. In other words, the Christian hope, as Paul envisions it, is that death will only affect those parts of ourselves that are not genuine. Our true selves, freed from negative outside influence, will continue to exist in some way. This is also how I like to interpret that other important eschatological symbol, the judgment. It will be a separation of what is true in me and what is not, more than a separation of the good people from the bad.

The important question then is, what is this “true self”. Can we even imagine a personality apart from the influences of our environment? I think this image is fundamentally flawed, and it is the dominating anthropological concept in our time: the assumption that there is one part of our personality that is natural (often: biological) and one that is caused by society, influence. See any debate on homosexuality, for example.

No, our genuine self is not defined by our genes, and it is not (the religious equivalent) given by God as a specific calling. If we believe that humans are created free, this is the essence of that freedom: we are free to define who we are ourselves. “True” when we speak of the self, is not to be translated as “original” or “what once was”. True is that which we have defined ourselves, which of all the influences that come to us we in our freedom accept to incorporate in our personality. False is that which we accept, not by freedom, but by lack of responsibility over our own life, and because of the circumstance under which we live. These are all the parts of our personality that we just let happen, since we do not take our life seriously.

It is from those elements of our personality we will ultimately be saved. This is to become “whole”. Now, how this will feel, look, take place – these are questions we do not have the answer to.

Radiohead bootlegs

My, isn't this internet thing nifty? Since I've noticed a high correlation between theoblogging and Radiohead appreciation, here is a site that post bootlegs from the current Radiohead tour as they become available. Including all the new songs and everything.

Videotape has direct relevance for the ongoing eschatology debate too... ;)

when i'm at the pearly gates
this'll be on my videotape
when Mephistopholis is just beneath
and he's reaching up to grab me
this is one for the good days
and i have it all here in red blue green
you are my centre when i spin away
out of control on videotape

Enjoy!

God! What is it* good for?

To address what salvation means is to say what the point of being a Christian is. Surprisingly enough, it seems many a theologian go through life without ever asking this question. Or at least addressing it directly. Other base their entire thinking on it.

The question can be broken down into several questions. For whom is there a benefit in my being a Christian? For God? I guess one could argue for this, probably by saying that I should believe in Christ because it is God’s will. That kind of God, however, inspires nothing by revolt in me. It would mean that the whole “God is love” bit is merely a charade.

For humanity? I guess this could be valid point, but only in a secondary manner. The only person who’s faith was beneficial for humanity as a whole was Jesus’. But I think it is valid to believe that faith in Jesus should be a positive force in society as a whole. Sadly, it is as often destructive, particularly when believers start to focus on other peoples sexual behaviour and the like.

For me? Even if Christianity has – as Tillich writes somewhere – developed a tendency to get moral panic at the mention of “I” and “me”, this seems to be the only way to go. I believe in Christ because this in someway benefits me. Now how this benefit is to be understood is something that will have to considered carefully.

First, when will I receive this benefit? There are two answers to this question. In this life and in the coming. Christianity maintains that both are true. The real question is where one lays the emphasis. This is a relevant question to the development of a theology of decline, because it is clear that in certain situations the hope in a better life is the only thing a person has left. In a world with increasing insecurity, poverty and chaos, this is not something that should be taken lightly.

The problem with a faith that is focused solely on the coming world is that it disregards this life. It becomes nothing but a preparation for what comes after death. Sadly, I think it is a valid criticism of religion, that because of this attitude, Christianity is co-responsible for the state of the environment today. A Christianity that is focused on bringing people from this world to the next will not care about the right relationship to nature and the environment. This means it will even tolerate behaviour that increases the pointless suffering of other human beings. Surely this is a Christianity that has gone very wrong.

A theology of decline must then formulate how the hope in a better life after this one is to be applied to this life, so as to avoid such errors. For this one has to look also at what the Christian hope actually is.

But while I think it is true as several modern theologians have pointed out, that Christian doctrine only makes sense from the eschatological point of view, I think we should also expect that faith in Christ in somehow makes life in this world better. Again, how this “better” is to be understood is something that will have to be discussed. Here especially questions such as how the sacraments and the Church should function in a world in decline becomes relevant.

* or he/she. It’s only rock’n’roll.

Universalism

"the lost message" (aka Simon?) has been pondering the possibility of salvation for all in a number of interesting posts. I'd like to offer my perspective.

First of all, Universalism, or apokatastasis panton as us patristics snobs like to refer to it, was fairly widely accepted in the early Church. Origen usually gets the blame/credit, but his teacher Clemens of Alexandria is the first father we know thought that all would finally be saved. Several other fathers subscribed to this opinion, including heavyweights Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory of Nazianzes. Basil, their friend and brother was of a different opinion though, but he writes at one point that most ordinary Christians believed in this. Finally I'd like to mention Isaac of Nineveh. If it were not for the fact that it will be at least two years until it comes out I would plug my book as a decent study on this and other fascinating aspects of Isaac's thought.

I find the apokatastasis doctrine appealing, not only for the obvious reasons, that it enables us to make sense of God's love. Even if we believe that we can not really understand what God's love means, a love that will lead to the eternal punishments of a substantial part of humanity just does not seem to have any analogous connection with human love to me.

Of course what happens beyond death is something we can merely hope for, and I guess any rightminded Christian hopes that God would find a way to save everyone. But I like the fact that if we adopt a universalist standpoint it gets rid of the awful idea that one is Christian, goes to church and prays, primarily to avoid hell in the next life. If we trust that God's love is strong enough to overcome not only sin, but egoism and selfhate as well, it makes possible an understanding of Christianity that focuses on how we can make this life easier, given whatever circumstances we have to live under.

Now, for arguments in favor of the apokatastasis, I'll gladly point you towards "the lost message".