Hello, Treehouse People.
Well, it’s all academic flirtation until things get f*cking real, isn’t it? It’s all fun and games and speculation and playing with possible scriptural interpretations until…well, until it’s not.
From the beginning, this whole enterprise of mine, this notion of constructing a new theology from the scraps and fragments of my old one, along with some new wider insights and perspectives, has been about addressing what I think are fundamental questions of any system of faith, questions that are, in fact, central to the human journey. I once believed any faith system worth its salt would address these fairly basic questions: “What is lasting?” and “Where is our hope?” And I guess that’s still valid if we are talking about, say, an academic thought experiment. We could spin those ideas all day long. Such luxury!
But it’s my opinion we are no longer in a time of luxury where we can argue the finer points of theology. We now find ourselves in a time of ultimate seriousness with regard to what the Christian faith might mean in our country and in our lives. With the drumbeat of Christian Nationalism growing louder by the day (it’s pure, cynical golden-calf idolatry, I said what I said), I feel pressed to discern what is utterly essential.
For me, a theology that doesn’t have love at the center,1 as the gravitational pull on everything that we say and do, isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. If a theology isn’t about the business of showing us how to make everything better, why bother? Really, what’s the point?
We are in times that demand something beyond mere academic postulations, something granular and meaty.
Which brings us to the Incarnation.
Every love relationship has a trajectory. Every love relationship is heading somewhere. Because love is a living thing, dynamic and active, love relationships don’t just sit and idle. They’re either growing and deepening or shriveling and dying.
In many ways, as I read the story of God and Us and the World, Jesus pretty much seems inevitable. How so? There’s an unsolvable problem, an uncrossable chasm, a seemingly irreparable tear in the fabric of love woven between God and humankind. Not that Jesus is the solution. More like a necessary gesture. God makes the first move to reconcile in this tale of estrangement. Think of Jesus as more like a bridge. A doorway. A portal.
But a bridge to what? A doorway to what?
We have these questions and more ahead of us as we consider first what the gospel stories have to tell us. Who were their audiences? For what purpose were they written? Can we really determine who might have authored them? How do they differ from each other and where are they in agreement? These four books are pretty much what we have to try and piece together a picture of who Jesus was and the local and world stage upon which he appeared.
Even though they are arranged out of order chronologically,2 we’ll hold respect for the literary and rhetorical decisions made to portray a certain story by how the New Testament books have been arranged, so I’ll discuss them in the order in which they’ve been preserved for us — Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.
The rest of the New Testament is the story of how followers drew in other followers by telling a story of impossible, miraculous wonders and an unshakeable and eternal love, and how these people who believed in Jesus as the hoped-for Messiah became the body of people called ekklesia, a Greek word that literally means “called out ones.”
I make this leap based on 1 John 4:8, “God is love.” Also, if I didn’t believe God is love, I’d jettison this whole enterprise. It’s what matters most to me as we think about the character of God.
Estimated possible dates when gospels written: Mark ca. 60-70 AD; Matthew & Luke ca. 80-90 AD; John, ca. 90-110 AD
Oh good!! I’m so glad we’re going here! Could not agree more that if religion isn’t about making things better and isn’t rooted in LOVE, what’s the point?
I could not agree more with ALL of this!!!