On The Road 54: Jesus is the centre of our faith

Finally finished the Anabaptist Association of Australia and New Zealand e-journal, On The Road, issue 54, “Jesus is the centre of our faith”, three months late but here at last. It’s a mix of the scholarly, the personal, and poetry. You can now choose from the traditional PDF version, or – as a trial – flowing text ebook versions from one of these links:

• Standard PDF version
• Ebook version – epub (Kobo, Nook, Sony Reader, Digital Editions)
• Ebook version – mobi (Kindle)

Some quotes as an entree:

“I suspect she just can’t be bothered with all my pharisaic like theological gymnastics just to get to a position to which she already knows in her heart to be true. She knows it to be true because she’s spent a life time trying to be like Jesus, rather than me who has spent a life time trying to wrestle with scripture.”
- Chris Summerfield

“There were many tragedies in the 20^th century. Among the least spectacular but most significant was that we picked at the threads of our relationships so much, that we unravelled the entire fabric of many of our communities – and now find ourselves without the support we need from our human safety nets.”
- Dave Andrews

You can subscribe for free by emailing me – nathanhobby at gmail.com.

 

On The Road on Mennonite World Review

You probably already know this, but in case you don’t, I’m the editor of On The Road, the journal of the Anabaptist Association of Australia and New Zealand. I was so encouraged to have an article written about our journal by John D. Roth (editor of Mennonite Quarterly Review and professor of history at Goshen) on Mennonite World Review. John writes, generously: “I am struck by the way On the Road helps to create a sense of community for its widely scattered subscribers and by the freshness that an ecumenical perspective can bring to Anabaptist themes.”

It comes out four times a year in digital format and you can subscribe for free by emailing me – nathanhobby at gmail.com. Past issues are here.

On Being Asked “What is an Anabaptist”

At church recently, I got asked, ‘What is an Anabaptist?’. It’s a recurring question that I’ve come to slightly dread, because I don’t think I can give a satisfactory answer concisely. I should work on this. But also because it is asked with varying degrees of seriousness.  And because this time someone else in the room let out an exaggerated groan, and I’ve always feared that’s what someone’s doing.

The person who let out the groan really meant it, from what I can gather. The sense I get from him is that he believes ‘labels’ and doctrines are what is wrong with Christianity, and that my obsession with Anabaptism represents both. He’s right; I think labels are extremely helpful, especially when they are used intelligently to understand different believers better. Most thinking comes from somewhere, and it’s good to know its source; it’s what gourmands like to do with food. As for doctrine, well it’s used too often as a hammer or a brick wall, but I think Rob Bell’s right in Velvet Elvis and it can be a trampoline.

In terms of answering the question, I decided to avoid the historical angle altogether, because it never seems to help particularly. (It might be worth mentioning that it’s a nearly five hundred year old tradition, but explaining the roots in the Radical Reformation goes so far over people’s heads.) So this time I said that it’s a movement which believes our faith should be more centred on Jesus and his life and teachings. The Bible should be read with Jesus as the norm. Our lives should attempt to live out Jesus’ teaching, including peacemaking, which means Anabaptists are pacifists.

I’ve recreated it better than I said it, and it still falls flat. No mention of ecclesiology, which was is what drew me to the tradition in the first place. But I think you have about one minute of someone’s attention normally. And ecclesiology is the part of Anabaptism which I can’t demonstrate in my life very well any more.

Any explanation of Anabaptism should consider the person asking. How much do they already know about Christianity and theology? What aspect is likely to matter most to them? It’s a contextual exercise, a mix of translation and if not salesmanship, at least apologetics.

What do you think?

On the Road 51: Exploitation in Bangkok, the story of Rachel and Leah, and Dave Andrews on Fear vs Love

I’ve just released issue 51 of On the Road, the journal of the Anabaptist Association of Australia and New Zealand. This one is the Women’s Issue. Inside, you’ll find a personal narrative from Bessie Pereira, one of the first women to be ordained in the Anglican Church of Australia and now director of a house church network. Andreana Reale gives a succinct and punchy defence of women in ministry. Jeanette Mathews offers a close reading of the Rachel and Leah story, while Sandra Lowther-Owens reflects on faith in hard times and Jen Noonan writes about the sexual exploitation of women in Bangkok in the context of a conference on women doing theology. There is also a new article from Dave Andrews about the two narratives running from biblical times to now – fear versus love.

Anabaptist Scot McKnight visits Perth

Every two years, the Baptist-run Vose Seminary in Perth hosts an academic conference. The theme of the 15-16 August 2011 conference was ‘Beyond Four Walls’, with a focus on church and mission. The keynote speaker was prolific US New Testament scholar Scot McKnight, a self-identified Anabaptist.

In his opening talk, Scot claimed most Christians have reduced the gospel to either justice or justification. Christians on the left have mistakenly thought the good news can be reduced to social justice. Christians on the right have mistakenly thought the good news can be reduced to personal salvation in the form of justification. Scot called us to remember the gospel is found primarily not in Paul but in the first four books of the New Testament, all of them the one gospel, not four, but told by four different writers. The gospel cannot be reduced to Jesus’ death; it is the whole story of Jesus and it is Jesus’ announcement of the kingdom.

Scot began so many of his sentences with ‘As an Anabaptist’ that one of the first questions thrown at him from the audience was, ‘Why are you an Anabaptist?’. He responded, ‘Because I read my Bible.’ After the laughter subsided he explained that he thought the Anabaptist emphasis on discipleship and the centrality of Jesus was the right way to approach Christianity. He mentioned the strong influence Anabaptist theologian Ron Sider had had on him in his formative years. In a conversation I had with him, McKnight said that he saw himself as somewhere between Sider and John Howard Yoder. He finished off his answer to the question from the audience by saying, ‘And that’s why I go to a very Anabaptist church called Willow Creek.’ Willow Creek, a megachurch which invented ‘seeker-sensitive services’, is about as far from Anabaptist ecclesiology as I can imagine, although it has focused more on discipleship in recent years. The joke may have been lost on much of the audience, but he was acknowledging a dilemma which faces many Anabaptists in Australia and New Zealand – finding a church which fits our beliefs.

If Scot’s first talk offended many on the right, his final talk offended some on the left. He spoke of the increasing focus on ‘justice’ amongst his students and their belief that working with NGOs and politics to achieve social justice was ‘kingdom work’. Scot insisted that this was not kingdom work but social work. He called for unglamorous, quiet church-based justice: looking after the aged, the widowed, the poor within the church community, and constantly reaching beyond the boundaries to bring more people into the church. There were controversial words, but ones worth contemplating for those of us who tend to see social justice as kingdom work. Scot says his forthcoming book, The King Jesus Gospel, will explain his position better. It does need better explaining, and I think his words may have given comfort to people in the ‘do-nothing’ camp. But in part, he means what Yoder means in Body Politics, and that is that the church needs to embody justice to the world.

Sectarianism and the Trail of Blood

There was a time in my life when I sought the continuity of truth in ‘the trail of blood,’ the communities who defined themselves against the established church. As I began to study the history of the church, I became particularly concerned when I discovered that “the trail of blood” generally included the gnostics of the early church who denied the incarnation and the Catharists of the medieval era who denied the Trinity and practiced communal marriage.
When I turned away from a sectarian view of the church to embrace the whole church with all of its triumphs and failures, I sensed a belongingness to this vast community of people. I also experienced a connectedness to history that broke the arrogance of my sectarian attitude and created a humility that allowed me to be defined by the church as the worldwide community of people to which I belonged. This means that I am able to affirm the whole church in all the various paradigms of history.
- Robert Webber, Ancient Future Faith. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1999. p.73.

I read this book when it came out twelve years ago, at a time when my faith was at a formative stage. Reacting against fundamentalism and responding to postmodernism, I’d just started reading theology and I was malleable. I was inspired and influenced by Webber’s book. It was before I’d read Yoder and while I was living with my grandfather, an ecumenically minded evangelical Anglican minister, who probably would have liked Webber very much. Reading Webber I came closer than I ever have in my life to becoming an Anglican.

Reading parts of it again now, it still resonates. This passage stuck out as I read, as you might imagine it would. I’m much less sectarian and much less ‘against’ the mainstream church(es) than a few years ago, say when I aligned myself with the housechurch movement. Working for a denomination has helped me with that, as has preparing some lectures this year introducing theology. I tried to enter sympathetically into a variety of perspectives, and it made me broader.

But still, what am I to do with Webber’s words here? Is to be an Anabaptist to align oneself with the ‘trail of blood’?

And how do we take ‘trail of blood’? Blood spilt or blood shed? Being persecuted and killed for your beliefs (by the mainstream church?) is nothing to be ashamed of, if I read the gospels correctly. Spilling blood for your beliefs – now that is a problem.

Can I have a more nuanced position than the alternatives Webber gives us here? Not every community that defines itself against the established church, but some? The ones that have good reason for distinction?

With his new attitude, could Webber still embrace the sectarian churches? Or are they now excluded from the vast church in all its connectedness through history?

I think the ‘trail of blood’ theory of churches is related to a Landmark Baptist view of church history – that there is a succession of persecuted true Christians culminating in the Baptists. I’m sure it is tied to some terrible fundamentalist ideas. But in a mild form, of at least acknowleding the idea of renewal throughout church history, it has some merit.

I bring the quote from Webber to you because it at once appeals to me and makes me bristle. Yes! And No!

[Book Review] Reasoning Together: A Conversation About Homosexualiy / by Ted Grimsrud and Mark Thiessen Nation

Reasoning Together brings two Mennonite theologians, Ted Grimsrud and Mark Thiessen Nation, into dialogue on an issue they disagree over – homosexuality. For Nation, the Bible’s witness on the issue is clear: homosexual acts are sinful; sex should only occur in the context of marriage between a man and a woman. For Grimsrud, to follow Jesus means to be on the side of the liberation of the oppressed – including homosexuals. This means the burden of proof is placed on the other side to prove that homosexual sex within the context of a same-sex marriage is wrong. For a number of reasons, he believe this burden is not discharged – particularly, the few passages which talk of homosexuality do not envisage homosexuality as an orientation nor do they refer to same-sex marriage.

The conversation moves around a lot, returning to several key points which are never fully resolved as the two writers respond to each others’ cases. How are we to conceptualise homosexuality? The contrast between the metaphors Nation and Grimsrud use is central to the debate. Aware of the offence it will cause – and pained by it – Nation conceptualises homosexuality as a disability, like blindness. For him, it is something that means a person is not functioning as fully as they should be. In response, Grimsrud believes a better metaphor is left-handedness, which was once thought to be a disability, but is now seen as a neutral trait, present in a significant minority of the population.  For Grimsrud, homosexual acts are not inherently sinful – they are only sinful if practised outside a same sex marriage. A number of times he states that he does not believe Nation has made a case for the inherent sinfulness of homosexual sex.

The two interpret Jesus’ silence on homosexuality in opposite ways. Does it mean that Jesus endorsed the Jewish status quo, regarding homosexual acts as sinful? In this view, it was a presumption that didn’t even need mentioning. Or does his silence mean that we shouldn’t prohibit what he did not prohibit?

The opening chapter of the book is an excellent and evenhanded survey by Grismrud of the ‘restrictive’ and ‘inclusive’ cases within Christian ethics. Both writers also supply an annotated bibliography listing what they see as the key resources.

While always respectful, each of them seem frustrated with the other at different points. Perhaps this means they are being honest. On a number of points, they are just not even able to arrive at a common definition from which they can depart. Nation thinks Grimsrud overstates the importance of hospitality in the biblical narrative – it is not the only emphasis. Grimsrud thinks Nation fails to prove the inherent sinfulness of all homosexual acts. Nation thinks the meaning of the scriptures is essentially settled and inclusivists like Grimsrud are trying to avoid the obvious. The book sums up the present debate well from an Anabaptist perspective, and shows what a divisive and difficult issue it is, while also offering an example of respectful if robust conversation.

On the Road 46 out now!

The latest issue of the journal of the Anabaptist Association of Australia and New Zealand, On The Road, is out today. It’s an election special and you can view it here:
http://www.anabaptist.asn.au/index.php?type=page&ID=3124

It’s diverse, but all the articles articulate an alternative to the Religious Right.

The Naked Anabaptist

The Naked Anabaptist: The Bare Essentials of a Radical Faith / Stuart Murray (Herald Press, 2010) 143 p., RRP AUD25.

I’m excited by the publication of Stuart Murray’s The Naked Anabaptist.  It fills that big gap for Anabaptists to explain just why they call themselves that. It is a book which introduces what Anabaptism is about today, using as a framework the excellent ‘Anabaptist Core Convictions’ developed by the Anabaptist Network in Great Britain. The ‘naked’ refers to the idea of ‘bare essentials’

If someone asks what an Anabaptist is, the temptation is to begin with a history lesson about the sixteenth century Reformation. The problem is that you only have about thirty seconds of someone’s attention, and you’ve spent it all just trying to get some bare bones down, differentiating the original Anabaptists from the other Reformers. No time to draw the connections to what that means for today. Stuart Murray avoids this problem by saving the history lesson to the penultimate chapter, and it works.  He lays out what an Anabaptist is today and gives some minimal historical background, before finally unveiling the whole history at the end. A much better approach for your average listener/ reader.

Murray is a generous writer, starting with a number of quotes from people who have come to Anabaptism, including friend of this blog, Phil Wood. In his opening chapter, he also deals with a lot of ‘But aren’ts’ that I’ve certainly heard a number of time – ‘But aren’t Anabaptists just another denomination?’; ‘But aren’t Anabaptists hung up on the issue of baptism?” ‘But aren’t Anabaptists separatists?’; ‘But aren’t Anabaptists all pacifists?’ (Answers: No, No, Sometimes but No, and No but Yes.) This chapter also helpfully surveys the influence of Anabaptism beyond the Mennonite Church, in countries like Britain and Australia without a Mennonite presence – including, gratifyingly, a mention of On The Road, the journal I edit for the Australian and NZ Anabaptist Association.

From my perspective, Murray gets the essence of Anabaptism just right. He deals with the centrality of Jesus for ethics and reading Scripture. He explains the Anabaptist critique of the church-state alliance and the appropriateness of the Anabaptist model of doing things for our post-Christendom context. He explains an Anabaptist vision for the church, with accountablility and multi-voiced congregations two key elements. He then sums up the Anabaptist focus on justice and peace as central to the gospel rather than consequences of it, or added extras.

His brief history of the Anabaptist movement is well handled, giving an outline of the differences between the three different geographic origins of the movement in Europe and explaining the denominations which arose out of this. He finishes the book by exploring some of the weaknesses and criticisms of the movement and affirming its value for today.

It’s interesting that one of the weaknesses of the movement he names is ‘intellectualism/ anti-intellectualism’. The conservative, simple living communities which have guarded Anabaptism for centuries tend to be anti-intellectual – Amish, for example, certainly don’t have much time for intellectualism. In contrast, neo-Anabaptists tend to have a very intellectual approach to Anabaptism and may have come to the faith by reading (as I partly did).

A minor quibble I have with the book is the lack of an index. (In my copy I constructed one of my own,  penciling in an alphabetical list of some of the more interesting subjects covered. ) The book looks attractive, though, and has a foreword by popular pastor-theologian, Gregory Boyd, hopefully meaning it will sell well at Christian bookshops. I think everyone who has an interest in Anabaptism but doesn’t quite understand it (or can’t quite put the different threads together) should read it. For everyone identifying with the movement, it’s an excellent book to buy in order to lend out. It’s an especially important book for Australian Anabaptists, written as it is from the same context we find ourselves in – Anabaptists-by-choice, without a church.

I asked Koorong to list it; they have, but they’ve only ordered the one copy I asked for. If you order from them, it might even inspire them to stock it on their shelves. If you are buying online from Australia, the best price is at Book Depository; at today’s exchange rate, it’s only $15.96, including postage.

Mixed feelings on Saint Mary MacKillop

I’m not sure what to think about the canonisation of Mary MacKillop.

Despite the appropriation of various Catholic impulses by post-evangelicals – that herd of discontents which I might loosely be included among – I haven’t heard much taking up of devotion to the saints. I sympathise with the letters to the paper which dismiss the whole thing as rather medieval.

But then reading Henri Nouwen’s Genesee Diary, I at least realised that I had lightly dismissed something that meant a lot to spiritually mature people who I respect. Each saint’s day gave Nouwen an opportunity to reflect on the significance of that particular saint, their virtues and life story, and how he might draw lessons from it. Nothing wrong with that. I am acutely aware of the historical impoverishment of my Baptist upbringing, where there was no-one to admire, save those in the Bible (and perhaps the odd missionary). There was no-one to aspire after, no holy examples of a life well-lived. Because, it was insistently pointed out, we are all saints, those of us who are saved.

But this is true for me now too as an Anabaptist, much more so than in the contemporary Baptist tradition. Anabaptism expects us to be holy and set apart from the world, a peculiar people. If this caveat had been added to the idea of us being saints, maybe it all would have made more sense to me.

It is nice to think there might be saints interceding for us in heaven. The scriptural warrant for praying to them to do this seems slim to me. But praying to a saint – especially one with a picture – must be so much tangible than all this abstract Protestantism we are used to. ‘Pray to God, this being that you cannot picture, cannot see, and most of the time cannot hear.’