A recent book, Jesus, Paul, and the People of God: A Theological Dialogue with N.T. Wright, is a collection of essays from a range of different scholars, interacting with Wright's thought on a number of different issues. Among the essays is one by Wright himself on Pauline studies and the life of the church. In that essay, just before the conclusion, Wright makes an important remark about the necessity of theology for the church. He says:
We need theology... We need it, not because it's a nice thing to get our ideas sorted out and our heads organised so that we can do the jigsaw of all these wonderful ideas. We need it because without prayerful reflective investigation of who God is, who the people of God are and what is the hope that belongs to our calling, without that prayerful, wise investigation the worldview whose central symbol is the one church of Jesus Christ will not be sustainable. Think of the churches that have given up theology, and you'll see what I mean.
A word about the implicit theology held by many who opt for cremation rather than burial. Reasons of hygiene and overcrowding led reformers toward the end of the last century to propose this step, which, as not all Western Christians know, is still firmly opposed by the Eastern Orthodox (despite the shortage of land in Greece at least) as well as by Orthodox Jews and Muslims. But cremation tends, classically, to belong with a Hindu or Buddhist theology, and at a low-grade and popular level...that is the direction toward which our culture is rapidly moving. When people ask for their ashes to be scattered on a favourite hillside or in a well-loved river or along a shoreline, we can sympathize with the feeling (though not, perhaps, with denying the bereaved a specific spot to visit in their grief). But the underlying implication, of a desire simply to be merged back into the created world, without any affirmation of a future life of new embodiment, flies in the face of classic Christian theology.
I am not of course saying that cremation is heretical... I am merely noting that the huge swing toward it in the last century reflects at least in part some of the confusions, both in the church and in the world, [about death and resurrection].
Given our aversion to speaking about death – and that includes Christians – I have not ever heard or been involved in a serious conversation about the theological implications of what we do with the bodies of our dead. What do you think of Wright's assertions? Is this something Christians need to think about more carefully?
This video was posted by St John's Nottingham a few weeks ago, and I found it quite helpful to hear N.T. Wright give his introduction to the book of Romans. Particularly helpful is his explanation of what he thinks Paul means by 'the righteousness of God'. This has been one of the major points of contention in Wright's theology, and his critics have often challenged him about his understanding of the phrase. Regardless, the 22-minute clip is worth your time.
In my first year of seminary, I was assigned a paper in which I essentially had to think about the idea of sacred space from a biblical standpoint and determine, more specifically, if this had any bearing on the architecture of church buildings. I found it to be a very interesting and challenging assignment, and though I came to no firm conclusion on the matter, I still find myself thinking about it often.
Recently, I finished reading N.T. Wright's excellent book, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church. Wright, an outspoken champion of biblical idea that redemption extends as far as the curse is found – in contrast to many Christians who view redemption as something spiritualised and otherworldly – helpfully guides the reader through a discussion of what this holistic redemption means for space, time, and matter. Wright says the following about how the redemption of space might give us pause to think about our church buildings:
The renewal and reclaiming of space has recently involved, among other things, a fresh grasp of the Celtic tradition of 'thin places,' places where the curtain between heaven and earth seems almost transparent. This is in fact just one aspect of a much wider theology of place, which has been under serious threat in the West since the Enlightenment. We urgently need to recapture this theology before, to use an obvious metaphor, all the ancient trees are cut down to make room for a shopping centre and parking lot just when people are starting to realise how much shade those trees provide in summer, how much fruit they bear in autumn, and how beautiful they look in spring. Jesus does indeed declare that God calls all people everywhere to worship him in spirit and truth rather than limiting worship to this or that holy mountain. But this doesn't undercut a proper theology of God's reclaiming of the whole world, which is anticipated in the claiming of space for worship and prayer. Church buildings and other places...are not a retreat from the world but a bridgehead into the world, a way of claiming part of God-given space for his glory, against the day when the whole world will thrill to his praise.
It is nothing short of dualistic folly, then, simply to declare without ado...that old church buildings and the like are irrelevant to the mission of God today and tomorrow... Many are rediscovering in our day that there are indeed such things as places sanctified by long usage for prayer and worship, places where, often without being able to explain it, people of all sorts find that prayer is more natural, that God can be known and felt more readily. We should reflect long and hard on a proper theology of place and space, thought through in terms of God's promise to renew the whole creation, before we abandon geography and territory.
