Michael Bird, The Saving Righteousness of God

It is a sad irony that some of the books I enjoy the most are the ones that languish on my to-be-reviewed shelf the longest. I think it's partly that I want to do them justice. And this one by Bird has been on my shelf since last fall—a testimony to its value, not its unimportance. And because I can't stand to see it sit there any longer, I offer instead this short inadequate notice to say it was truly a great book. I've been greatly enjoying, over the past year or so, delving deeply in to the world of Pauline theology, but that joy has been often tempered by frustration or even angst at the fragmented world of Pauline scholarship: so much seems contested these days, with many scholars working at cross purposes. And much of the debate is far too acrimonious. But Bird's offering in the Paternoster Monographs series is truly a gem. It offers great exegetical insight into Paul's letters, a clear-headed appraisal of what is important to the Apostle, and a constructive proposal that integrates the fruit of both the "traditional" reading of Paul and an open but critical inclusion of the "new perspective" on Paul and other contemporary approaches and estimations of the Apostle. In short, even beyond the great wealth of knowledge on Paul and his understanding of God's saving righteousness, Bird's book gives me great hope that especially the divide between old and new perspectives on Paul will be transcended as we move forward. This book is truly a must-read for anyone interested in Paul, the new Perspective, Romans, or even the New Testament more generally.

Pistis Christou and the Law

I'm reading through Galatians as I work my way through Frank Thielman's Paul and the Law. And I have been overwhelmed by Paul's logic in Galatians 3 in regard to Christ and the Law. In verse 22, Paul writes that everything was "locked up" under sin so that the promise could be given "through faith in Jesus Christ . . . to those who believe." I am well aware that the debate surrounding the various constructions and uses of pistis Christou as objective or subjective genitive is far from settled at this juncture, it has at least provided the impetus for me to look with new eyes at this passage, and to discover what is plainly there with regard to Paul's logic for why the law is in place (and in fact the reading doesn't seem to change substantively with subjective or objective renderings of the genitive construction). Paul seems to be saying that the law isn't opposed to the promise, but is in fact the necessary precondition of, and instrument through which Christ's faithfulness accomplishes our justification. The law provides in a sense the mechanism through which justification on our behalf by Christ occurs, as Christ's faithfulness under the law yields forth in God's abundant gift of life. The law is thus fulfilled and the promise is then extended to all people without the the constraint of the law, which has fulfilled its purpose in Christ. In a sense, instead of thinking of Christ as circumventing the law to bring salvation by faith (a type of theology that may at times rest just beneath the surface in my own thinking), Christ brings that salvation precisely through the law, which was God's ordained mechanism to bring blessing and life from death, even as the gift is now offered apart from that same law.

David Murrow, The Map: The Way of All Great Men

Thanks to Thomas Nelson for the review copy. In The Map, David Murrow, the author of Why Men Hate Going to Church, uses the metaphor of a map, along with a creatively told fictional tale of its discovery, to describe the spiritual journey of a man. He begins with a ten-chapter tale of the map's discovery in an ancient manuscript in a Grecian monastery by the monk Gerasimos, and of his own involvement in the project as a journalist and writer who could popularize the discovery. But things aren't so simple when he discovers he is being pursued by a mysterious group with unclear motives. Someone must want the map for personal gain. David goes to the monastery to meet with Gerasimos, and he is taught by the monk about the journey the map describes. He is then finally introduced to the map.

The map itself, described in an ancient document entitled "The Three Journeys of Jesus," is actually a key to understanding Jesus own life as depicted in the Gospel of Matthew as three journeys, submission, strength, and sacrifice—three journeys that all men are to emulate in a life of discipleship.

In the second half of the book, following on this interesting fictional account, Murrow fleshes out these three journeys he finds in Matthew's gospel. The first, submission, is found in the early part of the Gospel (chs 1–7). It entails a journey toward the feminine, and is characterized by submission to God. The second is strength, and is found in Matthew 8–25. It is a journey of assertion and strength, a journey toward the masculine. The final journey is sacrifice (Matt 26–28), a journey back in the feminine direction, focused on handing over control, passing on responsibility, training up the next generation.

I found much of value in Murrow's creatively shaped handbook on male discipleship. I think he has indeed picked up three important themes of discipleship and described them well. His assertion that he has found a hidden map in the Gospel of Matthew is more tenuous, I would think, though that doesn't totally undermine the key insights. I also found his description of these stages or journeys in terms of masculine and feminine as a mixed bag. In some senses, it is helpful to see how these stages relate to typical tendencies or traits aligned with one gender, and to warn of the pitfalls that might be typical of especially men, means it has its use. Though in a more absolute way I don't think they were necessary for the book's key insight. In terms of a book directed toward men, and the vision of male discipleship it forms, I think Murrow's book has much value. It is a helpful corrective to some male-directed books that seem to glorify masculine traits and tendencies at the expense of important biblical themes like submission and sacrifice. It also takes a swipe at visions of Jesus (and of the Christian life) that are only meek and mild. So there is no doubt the book has great value in striking out against those two extremes.

In all, I found a few points on which to quibble, but I clearly think Murrow has identified three important themes in the life of the disciple, packaged them creatively with a fictional tale and a helpful map, and directed them well to a male audience. I hope this book is read widely and that it engenders a dialogue about the shape and purpose of the Christian life, especially the Christian life of a man.

The Hermeneutics of Childhood

I've got twin two-year-olds at home, so I'm pretty immersed in their world. One of the really fascinating things I've noticed over the past year or so is their ability to filter the world, and especially unfamiliar things, through their past experiences. I can't even count how many times it happens (it's pretty much constant), but one recent example gives the feel. They have a little Yatzee battery-powered game that they got from their beloved grandpa. But they don't treat it like a game, or even like some random object that beeps. Instead, they think of it, and use it, as a phone. Because it's roughly the same shape and size as many people's digital phones. So they faithfully walk around pushing buttons and talking on it. And that assumption on their part puts something with which they have no familiarity into their world in a familiar place. And as I said, the number of examples could multiply endlessly. But what this got me thinking about is how nicely this illustrates the need for careful hermeutical reflection when reading, especially the Bible. I'm reading Frank Thielman's Paul and the Law right now, which I'm greatly enjoying, and the need for awareness of one's own context (so we don't too quickly find a Paul that fits comfortably into our own setting), as well as an awareness of the apostle's setting, are essential to reading Paul faithfully. I think there's a more developed reflection hidden in here somewhere, but it was an idea I didn't want to loose, so you get it only partially formed, for what it's worth.

New Ancient Temple Found

Ben Witherington points out the release of an important, paradigm-shifting discovery of an ancient temple complex of massive proportions in Turkey. The complex, dating from around 11,500 years ago, predates the pyramids and stonehenge by thousands of years. You can read about in Prof. Witherington's blog post above, as well as the Newsweek article. This is a fascinating discovery, and it will be interesting to see its wider ramifications, especially in the more narrow field of Biblical Archaeology, and the light it sheds on the Biblical history accounts. One quote from the Newsweek article struck me as interesting, and also points to the importance of this discovery for understanding ancient cultures:

"Schmidt's thesis is simple and bold: it was the urge to worship that brought mankind together in the very first urban conglomerations. The need to build and maintain this temple, he says, drove the builders to seek stable food sources, like grains and animals that could be domesticated, and then to settle down to guard their new way of life. The temple begat the city."

This discovery's announcement comes on the heels of another announcement from Israel relating to a structure possibly relating to the time of David and Solomon. See Darrel Bock's blog for more info on that interesting discovery. Lots going on in archaeology today!

BW3 on Holy Discontent

I had a chance to spend some great time with some men from my church this morning at our monthly breakfast. Our discussion topic was about how you balance safety and risk, balance day-to-day needs with eternal priorities. It was a great opportunity to reflect on how we make choices: are the ways we actually think and decide and act really consistent with what we value most highly? It is such great food for thought. I've been thinking since last fall about Col 3 and the theme of having our mind set on things above, something in which I think I often fall short. It's not a call to escapism but instead to living with a baptized imagination for how our lives could be.

Then I got home and read a great blog post from Ben Witherington, which I'm excerpting here:
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St. Paul puts it well--- "not that I have already obtained all this (i.e. perfection, full maturity, becoming Christ like, the resurrection etc.) or have already arrived at my final goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ took hold of me. Brothers and sisters I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do. Forgetting what is behind and straining forward towards what is ahead, I press on towards the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 3.12-14)

Now we have gotten to the nub of the matter. Paul is talking about doing, a doing which leads to the right end. He expresses his holy discontent not with his circumstances, not with his situation, not with his mortal frame, not with how God made him, but with the fact that he has not yet arrived where God ultimately wants him to be in his life. Indeed, none of us have done so, who are still alive and breathing on terra firma. Paul is not berating himself in a way that either denigrates or denies what God has made him to be, or what Christ has already accomplished in him. But a holy discontent forgets what lies in the past and press on with the upward call of doing better, and in the end being all that we were meant to be. We are meant to be a restless people until we find our final rest in Him, until we reach the goal. And here is what this means.

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What a great reminder about being reflective, about not giving into the pop psychology idea of self-acceptance but instead living with a holy discontent, in pursuit of God's good and perfect will. What a great (and challenging) way to live. Press on.

Stephen Mansfield, The Search for God and Guinness

Thanks to Thomas Nelson for the review copy. This book is, as its subtitle proclaims, "a biography" of a beer. But, it is obviously more than that. In short, it is the biography of a family and a company whose history is seasoned with devotion to Jesus Christ and to the conviction that faith can be lived out beyond the walls of a church. In this interesting and readable journey through 250 years of history, Mansfield writes an engaging chronicle of how this family's faith shaped the ethos of a company and led it to be a leader both in the quality of the product it produced and in the way it formed a corporate culture. I can't say I'd ever thought of beer as a particularly healthy drink (probably due to a lot of baggage that often comes with the beverage in its American context), but its value as a safe and wholesome alternative to either unsafe water or to harder liquor in the early years of the company was part of the motivation behind its beginnings.

I was fascinated by the way this company continually chose to be a leader in the way it treated its workers, from the way company doctors aggressively sought to improve the living conditions of turn-of-the-twentieth-century workers, to the preservation of jobs for people in military service during the second world war, to the high wages it paid. I was also intrigued by the pattern of heirs apparent sidestepping their path to the company for full-time Christian ministry.

In all, this was both an entertaining and informative study on how one family and company have lived out their faith. It certainly gives food for thought on how our corporate culture today often falls short, and it also proves a great extended illustration of Luther's emphasis that vocation goes far beyond ordained ministry.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together

I highly recommend this classic work on the importance of Christian community. Coming out of his experiences in the Confessing Church seminary in the years leading up to WWII, Bonhoeffer's spectacular book both outlines the theological foundation for a robust and intentional communal life, but also gives practical advice on how to bring it about. While we certainly won't all be participating in the daily type of community that Bonhoeffer envisions (though it is very different from a cloister life, in that it is intentionally pointed toward and among the world in service), his vision is filled with great wisdom and insight for appreciating and reinvigorating our participation in our churches and smaller fellowship groups today. Teaching about Bible reading, prayer, service, and confession, Bonhoeffer paints a picture of the Christian life that preserves one from self-absorption and brings one into the support and fellowship of the communion of saints as we encounter Christ in one another. Truly a must-read.