Theology for the Masses

In this wildly ambitious work, Moreland seeks to cure Christianity from the malaise that plagues – the death of drama; he is mostly successful, though not for the reasons he would give. Written for a popular audience, the Kingdom Triangle is divided into two sections; the first attempts to show us the “crisis of our age,” attacking Naturalism and Postmodernism as the destroyers of drama. The second part is more hopeful, and is Moreland’s attempt to construct a solution to the problem by means of three foci: knowledge, the soul and supernaturalism. With his insistence upon objectivity and reluctance to engage the best of Christian postmodern thought, readers risk being more entrenched against any other approach to knowledge and theology. However, the other parts of the work shine in comparison. When Moreland is attacking naturalism and working to instill drama he is much more effective. This combination of strengths and weaknesses make this book a minefield for the lay reader. There is much good to be had, but one can easily get the impression that all postmodern and emerging Christians are to just as feared and protected against as the Catholic Church.[1]

Drama for your mamma (and the rest of the Body of Christ)

The chief contribution of this work is Moreland’s drive to instill drama in our lives. Moreland’s use of drama is interesting and is the most important theme in the book. Moreland sets it up as the life full of meaning and purpose contrasting it with the drabness of everyday life. His awareness of the hunger for drama is startling and speaks to a need which likely resonates with much of his readership. Wise are the ways Moreland suggests Christians resurrect drama and acute are the causes he identifies for its crucifixion. He identifies the narcissism, individualism, passivity, and immaturity of the self that our popular culture produces;[2] and advocates the flourishing of the self, which includes the development of self-denial, character, and the spiritual disciplines.

Don’t, Stop, Manifesting the Spirit…

Perhaps the most controversial part of the book for the target audience is Moreland’s insistence that we recover the activity of the Spirit in our daily lives. He calls this “being naturally supernatural”[3] and attacks Cessationists. In great contrast to his dealings with Postmodernist Christians and Catholics, he advocates love and charity towards people on different places on the continuum of the Spirit’s activities.[4] This advice is much needed in the North American Church today. He primarily challenges Cessationists by appealing to personal stories and the numbers of Charismatics in the world. Oddly enough, Moreland does not use Scripture to challenge Cessationists. Given his high view of and condemnations by means of Scripture, one would have expected the same here. Ultimately, his wisdom, gentleness, and honesty are instructive in this section.

I refute him thus!

“I refute him thus!” was Samuel Johnson’s exclamation as he broke his foot upon a rock in an attempt to refute Berkley’s idealism.[5] It is also method of attack Moreland employs in his critiques of Naturalism and Postmodernity.[6] Moreland’s treatment of Postmodernism is the chief disappointment Kingdom Triangle. Moreland, the unapologetic modernist, [7] constructs the frailest version of postmodernism possible for the purposes of rendering asunder with the mighty blows of the three-sentence-proof. Moreland goes so far as to dismiss and critique of his characterization of postmodernism by saying: “For one thing, my description of postmodernism is an accurate account that fairly captures and understanding of postmodernism … [so] I can hardly be accused of offering a caricature of the movement.”[8] This rather grumpy, defensive, and dismissive tone is found throughout his discussion of Naturalism, Postmodernism, and Knowledge. Moreland unfortunately, for one of Evangelical Christianity’s most highly regarded philosophers, reduces all of postmodernity into a “synonym for deconstructive relativism.”[9] Too often Moreland attacks his constructed postmodernism[10] with simplistic proofs which bypass the real issues at hand. An excellent example of this is his discussion of objectivity and language.[11]

This seems like a rhetorical strategy to appeal to the value of common sense and anti-intellectualism of his intended audience. This, combined with a lack of real engagement of the best of Christina postmodern theory will hinder the intellectual development of his readers in the wake of Modernity’s decline. It reeks of entrenchment rather than engagement.

The Gentle Curmudgeon

One final criticism of Kingdom Triangle is the bipolar writing style that Moreland employs. When attacking Naturalism and Postmodernism and constructing a theory of knowledge, Moreland writes in a grouchy, dismissive, and immature tone. He repeatedly deems things “sad” and uses brute force to argue his claims (see his listing to all the verse in the Bible that contain the word knowledge).[12] This is contrasted with the genuine love and concern from which he writes his other chapters.

Conclusion

Ultimately this book is a mix of the best and worst from Moreland. Moreland argues for the best possible modernist/foundationalist Christianity, and attacks the worst postmodern secularism, which he ties to all Christian postmodern thought. However, With the exception of the chapter on Knowledge, Christians would be wise to heed his words concerning the resurrection of drama. I would modify Moreland’s argument (that Naturalism and Postmodernism have caused the death of drama) to the Church’s acceptance of Modernism and lack of a response to its death have caused and sustained the death of drama. It is a shame this was not a two-volume work.

Notes:

[1] Moreland is deeply skeptical in this work about the orthodoxy of the Catholic Church , warning evangelical Christians to steer clear of their spiritual development classes (p.159).

[2] Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 142-145.

[3] Ibid., 182.

[4] Ibid., 178-179.

[5] For more on this, see Dinesh D’Souza, What’s so great about Christianity (Regnery Publishing, 2007), 171.

[6] While Moreland and I agree on the perils of Naturalism, Moreland has a too narrow of a definition of postmodernism, see notes 12 and 13.

[7] See his infatuation with the self and objectivity, and unquestionable support of the correspondence theory of truth in Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 78-88. and dismissal of critiques of modernity, such as the role of language creating worlds rather than nakedly describing them in Ibid., 85, 87.

[8] Ibid., 87.

[9] Franke, Character of Theology, The, 21.

[10] It is difficult to construct a positive definition of the varied modes of postmodernist theory. I follow Franke in maintaining that Postmodernism is best defined minimally as the critique of Modernity which requires “radical surgery.” See Ibid.

[11] Compare Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 86. with Stanley J. Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1996), sec. The Problem of Language.

[12] Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 114-120. Moreland opts for the brute-force technique for arguing that our knowledge must be certain (by his criteria and his criteria only, which happens to be foundationalist in nature).

Having surveyed the story of God in the Bible, I began to work towards a definition of the gospel. Starting in the Old Testament and moving into the New Testament, I looked at how the Gospels and Acts looked at the gospel. Then we moved into Paul and how he looked at the gospel. Having done that and really tried to expound what I mean by the gospel, I want to conclude this series with a final post that simplifies the gospel definition and speak to the response of faith and repentance to the gospel. Hopefully this series has been helpful to those who have read it because it has been helpful to me in trying to re-articulate the gospel in light of my paradigm shift away from so much of the traditional Protestant justification = forgiveness of sin = gospel. Reading the story of Jesus by Matthew, Mark, Luke-Acts, and John has really altered the way I read the New Testament as a whole. Reading the story of Jesus against the backdrop of the story of Israel has changed how I read the Bible as a whole, God’s story of creation and redemption. continue reading…

What is the difference between the soul (ψυχή) and the spirit (πνεῦμα)?  I have my theories, but I’d like to get your thoughts.  From what I can tell, it is the corruptible part of the noncorporal human.

Update: Check out Castle of Nutshells for an extended writeup of his comment :: Equivalents to ψυχή and πνεῦμα in Hebrew and Egyptian

I’ve always found impossible Paul’s imperative to “pray without ceasing.” I mean, seriously, who has time for that? Even Luther’s comment that he’s so busy that he feels he has to pray for 3 hours a day doesn’t quite get at Paul’s impracticable “without ceasing” requirement – 3 hours is hardly “without ceasing.” Surely Paul doesn’t expect me to kneel beside my bed for all 16 waking hours.

But what if “without ceasing” isn’t a measurable category? What if I can’t set my stop-watch count this kind of prayer? What if I can’t gauge it? What if it can’t be calculated by the time I spend on my knees next to my bed or verbalizing prayers from the Lectionary?

I had a liberating thought a while back: Unceasing prayer can only be done in communion with the Holy Spirit…..Here me out before you say, “Thank you Captain Obvious!”

You see, this kind of prayer cannot be put on our check-list of spiritual activities for the day. Rather, it is a continual and constant communion with the Spirit throughout the day. It is the recognition that the Spirit, as a person, is always present and always engaged with us. Like the face of the Deep in Genesis 1:2, the Spirit hovers over us, always drawing us out of the chaos and into communion.

This is also a recognition that all our mundane tasks – “when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up” (Dt. 6:7) – can be done in communion with the Spirit, with an ever increasing awareness of the Spirit’s nearness. God is not distant, God the Spirit desires us to delve deep in Trinitarian fellowship.

So, while Luther’s 3 hours is important (especially as a discipline), we cannot restrict our communion with the Spirit of God to 1/8 of our day. The Spirit’s presence permeates every aspect of our lives. Every cry of our heart against injustice, even the ones we don’t utter prayers for, is heard by the Spirit as an appeal to the Father to set things right. When we hurt the Spirit groans and prays for us – even though we haven’t uttered a word.

No longer do I find Paul’s imperative an impossibility. No longer do I assume I don’t have time for that. No longer am I convicted by Luther’s prayer life in comparison with mine. Ceaseless is as simple communion with another person. It is the desires and thoughts which invite God to establish His kingdom on earth. It is our efforts to work with the Spirit to display, as true image bearers, God’s name in a chaotic and rebellious earth. It is orienting our being toward God’s Spirit. It is our groanings to have heaven touch earth in such a way that Christ is revealed in all his goodness. In these things we draw deeper into communion with the Spirit, deeper into participation in the divine nature. In these things we pray without ceasing.

For all our debates about the nature and genre of the Creation stories in Genesis 1 and 2, I’m amazed by the lack of discussion surrounding the meaning of the Spirit’s activities in 1:2 where the text reads, “And the Spirit of God hovered over the face of the deep.”

We’ve been so sidetracked by other questions, often questions the text isn’t even asking, that we’ve overlooked this odd and fascinating feature of the Creation narrative – the presence and activity of God’s Spirit.

Neglecting the Spirit’s role in creation is easy for us, not only because we’re distracted by the Creationism vs. Evolution questions, but also because we’ve severely limited the Spirits role in the Christian life to conviction of sin and assurance of salvation. Or, more specifically, we’ve limited the Spirit’s role to our subjective devotional lives.

But prior to the need for conviction of sin and the need for assurance of salvation, the Spirit was involved in the work of creation. Contrary to our privatized Pneumatology, the fingerprints of the Spirit are clearly displayed in the cosmos.

But what do those finger prints look like? And why was the Spirit hovering over the deep?

By placing the Spirit within Genesis 1:2, where we have the beginning of a movement from darkness and void to order and light, the author suggests the Spirit is the agent by which creation is given form and order. The Spirit is not removed from the creation; the Spirit is intimately with the creation, guiding its development and progress along with the spoken word of God.

The Spirit’s hovering over the face of the deep is significant. For the ancient Hebrews, the sea was a force of chaos and unruliness. Often mythologized in Babylonian religions, the chaotic character of the sea is confirmed by numerous biblical accounts: Noah’s Flood and the destruction of the entire world, the crossing of the Red Sea, Jonah and the whale, Jesus and the calming of the Storm. Even more telling is in Revelation when the sea is the place from which the great Beast comes (13:1) and, ultimately, a place to be destroyed in the new creation: “and there was no longer any sea.”(21:1)

Furthermore, within our narrative, it is important to note that the deep is possibly a subtle reference to a Babylonian deity, Tehoim, “a belligerent and monstrous ocean goddess.” If so, Genesis 1:2 would have been an especially comforting verse for ancient Hebrews wrestling with the constant pressures of Babylonian culture and religion. Not only are the chaotic waters of the deep under the Spirit’s dominion, but implicitly and subversively, Babylonian religion is stripped of its power and demonstrated to be inferior to the religion of Yahweh. For in our narrative, the Spirit is holding at bay the chaotic forces of the world – Babylonian religious and cultural influence, to be more specific. The Spirit drifts over the deep and demonstrates the dominion of God over the disorder soiling the life of an exiled people attempting to be faithful to Yahweh’s covenant “in a foreign land.” (Ps. 137:1-4)

I know the objections will be that there are no forces of evil yet b/c Genesis 3 has not yet occurred. But, again, like the Creationism debates, I don’t think that’s the question the narrative asks.

Rather, it assumes some sort of rebellion has already occurred. You see, the pre-Fall narrative is replete with numerous subtle references to Babylonian deities, and even words which indicated violent subjugation (1:28). Furthermore, such an answer also accounts for the mysterious serpent in Genesis 3 – another possible allusion to a Babylonian deity, and one which would, again, make a lot of sense to an ancient Hebrew person struggling with the constant influences of Babylonian religion and culture.

Thus, what we’re learning from Genesis 1:2 is that those forces of chaos, those things in the world that are disorderly and unruly, are still held in check by the Spirit. The Spirit is already at work to bring the creation back to its original intention – the order of God.

The implication of this is, yes, that there were forces of death operative within creation prior to Genesis 3, but these forces were not yet operative within humanity or the earth in which humanity resided. But these forces of death are being checked by the Spirit. Indeed, even though the narrative makes subtle references to pagan deities, these subtle references are subtle precisely because the narrator wants the reader to see that the sea was created by God and that God is in control. The sea is not a deity, it is part of Yahweh’s creation and He is sovereign over it as the Spirit hovers over the deep and keeps it in its place (Ps. 140:9). “The author here plainly understands God’s act of creation to have involved some type of conflict with cosmic chaos, but also clearly portrays Yahweh as being more than up to the task.”

So what is the Spirit doing hovering over the face of the deep? Displaying and maintaining God’s sovereignty over creation. Demonstrating God’s intimate concern for the details of His creation. And ensuring the ancient reader that God maintains control over the chaotic influences and forces of false religion. The gigs up: the Sea is demythologized and shown to be part of creation. It is not an independent agent, and insofar as chaotic forces do control the sea, Genesis 1 will not allow us to despair, as if Yahweh has lost his sovereignty.

*I reserve the right to change my mind later about any of this.*