Review: The Priesthood of All Students

/ rtrube54 / 2 Comments

The Priesthood of All Students, Timothée Joset. Carlisle, Cumbria, UK: Langham Global Library, 2023 (Also available in French and Spanish editions).

Summary: Contends from historical, ecclesiological, theological, and missiological perspectives that the idea of the priesthood of all believers has been essential to the student-led, non-clerical character of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students, and helps account for it global spread to 180 countries.

In 1947, ten evangelical (in theological, not political terms) student movements in North America, Europe, East Asia, and the South Pacific united to form the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students (IFES). They united to foster similar movements, led by students in other countries around the world. Today, 180 countries are represented in IFES. [In the interest of full disclosure, I work as a campus staff minister in the IFES member movement in the United States, InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA.]

This work considers how a basic biblical premise of the Reformation, the priesthood of all believers, has been vitally important to the character and spread of student movements under the umbrella of the IFES. The work is a published version of the doctoral dissertation of Timothée Joset, PhD, who serves as IFES Engaging the University Coordinator, residing in Switzerland. As such, it represents one of the most extensive archival research projects on the history of the IFES as well as an analysis of the theological and missiological outworkings of this biblical premise.

The first part of the work, then, focuses on the history of the IFES, showing how the idea of the priesthood of all believers has been the implicit rationale for the ministry of students with other students within the ten founding movements and their pre-history before 1947, subsequently in post-colonial Africa, amid the student activism and revolutionary impulses of the 1960’s, the rise of the global south in the 1970’s, and partnerships between movements in the 1980’s and the changes in the world up to the beginning of the new millenium. The history more briefly considers the years since.

Several things stand out. One is the parting of the InterVarsity Fellowhip in the UK from the World Student Christian Federation, a once-evangelical student movement that did not share the IVF understanding of the authority of the Bible and the centrality of the atoning work of Christ, reflecting a drift to a more intellectual and liberal theology. This is crucial because in ensuing years, the founding movements of IFES arose from the UK movement and shared the theological convictions, which are reflected in the IFES Doctrinal Basis.

Joset traces how this difference was reflected in the years subsequent to the formation of IFES, tracing questions about its decisions to eschew the ecumenical movement, questions about IFES relationship to the church, and doubts about how a movement primarily led by students with limited staff counsel could remain sound. He traces the responses of both how students were encouraged to active church participation, and the focus on campus mission, where students were most effective in reaching other students, and how the mission-focused doctrinal basis allowed students to come together across denominational lines.

An important part of this work also traces the impact of IFES on broader evangelical thinking relating evangelistic and social concerns, as they wrestled with the response to the turbulent sixties. He features how IFES leaders Rene Padilla and Samuel Escobar helped articulate a gospel-centered social ethic that, with the help of John Stott, shaped the Lausanne Conference of 1974, all of this arising from the grapplings of Latin American students. Likewise, the redefinition of partnership between movements, particularly between the West and the rest of the world was rooted in the importance of indigenous student leadership, the priesthood of all student believers.

A briefer second part looks at how IFES groups practically function. Joset develops the ideas of immediacy, mediation and membership to describe how the theological premises of priesthood of all believers works out in these groups–groups gather on the basis of their immediate faith, they mediate it to their campus environment in both witness and intellectual engagement, and they maintain membership with their local congregation. I personally appreciated his recognition of the complex role of campus staff ministers who are not clergy–helping maintain focus on doctrine and mission, yet without overstepping the role of students.

The third part focuses on ecclesiology. Much of this focused on how the doctrinal basis both articulated how IFES is a part of the church but also provided a basis for mission in the university world which actually enriches the church rather than simply arising from it. Joset then turns in the fourth part to the theology behind the idea of the priesthood of all believers, from Old Testament, to Christ, to the early church, in which all believers are part of a kingdom of priests. He brings this to bear on the discussion of these student movements as “para-church,” contending that a missional ecclesiology that sees such movements as a natural response to God’s redemptive movement is not bound by ecclesiocentric structures. I was also fascinated by his exploration of Roland Allen. Allen’s book on Missionary Methods: St. Paul’s or Ours was formative for many of us in student ministry in the 1970’s and 1980’s in arguing for the ability of students to advance and multiply the movement, a version of the priesthood idea. He also explores how recent discussions of apostolicity related to the priesthood idea.

In his concluding section, I appreciated his discussion of the different forms of mediation in which student movements engage–priestly, intellectual and academic, to the church, and internationally. He also underscores how the priesthood of all student believers, operating within the doctrinal framework of IFES provides a basis for a vibrant mission in the university world, not diffused by the theological differences among churches, and in turn, enriching the church in its own mission.

I value Joset’s rigorous study of these matters, which offers what I think is the most far-reaching theological and historical discussion I have seen. He affirms what I have long thought, that a mission like that of IFES groups just makes sense, rather than every denomination trying to have its own ministry, which is often more about conserving rather than advancing belief. Far from being a threat to churches, as it has often been perceived, the products of such mission have deeply enriched the church and the wider fulfillment of its mission in the world. Furthermore, the robust discussion of the priesthood of all believers not only undergirds the approach of IFES student movements but can be empowering to broad swaths of the church that have ceded ministry to professional clergy rather than being affirmed that they have a vital role in mediating the gospel of Christ in whatever context they are placed. It is also striking that it was this “priesthood” approach that enable IFES to adapt to a post-colonial world, with 170 countries joining the initial ten.

________________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary e-galley of this book from the author.

Review: One Corpse Too Many

/ rtrube54 / 1 Comment

One Corpse Too Many (Chronicles of Brother Cadfael #2), Ellis Peters. New York: Mysterious Press/Open Road, 2014 (Originally published in 1979).

Summary: Burying 94 defenders of Shrewsbury loyal to Empress Maud, executed by King Stephen, Cadfael finds 95 bodies, one of which had been murdered. Could the killer be the young man seeking a daughter of a supporter of Empress Maud, hiding in the abbey under Cadfael’s protection?

The abbey at Shrewsbury is caught amid a civil war between those defending the town of Shrewsbury, loyal to Empress Maud who is in France, and the present, dominating forces under King Stephen. When the town falls, ninety-four of the defenders, loyal to Maud are executed by hanging, cut down and left in a heap outside the town. Cadfael is delegated to lead the group to provide them a decent burial or be claimed by their families. The grim task becomes grimmer when Cadfael counts, no doubt to make sure they have retrieved all, only to find that there are ninety-five. One of the corpses had been murdered, garrotted from behind and hidden among the others.

He secures King Stephen’s permission to investigate the murder. It is only one of the burdens he bears as he copes with the effects of war. A young boy has been assigned to him, provided for by a year’s gift to the abbey. Godric works hard and listens well–and refuses to strip down on a hot day–and Cadfael realizes this is no boy. He learns that she is Godith Adeney, daughter of one of Maud’s patrons, who had escaped the city. He arranges for her to stay with him rather than the other boys, and tries to protect her secret until he can arrange to get her to safety in neighboring Wales. She also identifies the murdered man–one of her father’s young servants, smuggling family wealth out of the city to aid Maud’s cause

The task is complicated by Hugh Beringar. Years ago he was betrothed to Godith. Now he has sided, or tried to, with King Stephen. He’s a skilled horseman and swordsman, but the proof of loyalty remains. Finding Godith and turning her over to the King as hostage and bait to bring her father out of hiding will confirm Beringar’s loyalties. He stays at the Abbey and attaches himself to Cadfael. Does he know, or suspect? The only thing that distracts is the recently bereaved Aline siward who lost her brother among the ninety-four. His rival for her affections is Adam Courcelle, a young soldier of the king, who apologizes that he could not save her brother.

Godith discovers a wounded young man in bushes outside the abbey, a companion assisting the man who was murdered, who had fought with his assailant in a barn. Cadfael attends to the young man, Tobold, who quickly develops a bond with Godith, and investigates the scene, finding a broken flower from the hilt of a knife–a key to finding the murderer. There is also the family treasure, which Tobold has hidden.

Peters does an effective job building the tension as it is evident that Beringer both enlists Cadfael’s help in secreting away some horses and provides bait for Cadfael to use with the two he is hiding who need to get to Wales, along with the treasure, which Cadfael suspects Beringar is also seeking. Beringar is both stealthy and clever. How much does he know? Can the former soldier and herbalist Cadfael outfox him? More than that, if the treasure is Beringar’s object, is he the murderer? For all that, a kind of admiration has arisen within Cadfael for this young man.

Peters has some surprises yet in store that both further the tension in the plot, and heighten the satisfaction with its outcome…but I will say no more! It’s masterful!

In back of all this, Peters captures the knife-edge abbeys lived on amid such civil distress. They do not take sides but provide stores and horses for the king–and refuge for those associated with his rival. All the while, they pursue a higher call, to care for souls, to heal bodies when they can and bury them with dignity when that fails. In Cadfael, the former soldier we read the tension of understanding the way of the warrior and the pursuit of his spiritual calling. He exemplifies one who lives “as wisely as a serpent and as innocently as a dove.”

Review: Mariel of Redwall

/ rtrube54 / 1 Comment

Mariel of Redwall (Redwall #4), Brian Jacques. New York: Avon Books, 1991.

Summary: Mariel the warrior mousemaid seeks revenge against Gabool, the pirate king, with a company from Redwall, while Redwall fends off a group of pirate fugitives led by rebel Captain Greypatch.

Mariel the mousemaid awakens on the shore of the coast off of Mossflower Wood. She’d been thrown into the sea by Gabool, King of the searats, pirates headquartered in Bladegirt Fortress on Terramort Isle, in the sea to the northwest of Mossflower. Her father, Joseph the Bellmaker and she had been seized enroute to deliver a bell to Lord Rawnstripe, of Salamandastrom. She had nearly defeated Gabool when he attacked her, stunning him. Held by his underlings, she is thrown to the sea, assumed to have drowned. Knocked on the head, she remembers none of this. All she has is a rope, which she uses to fend off ravenous gulls. She dubs herself Storm Gullwacker and her rope Gullwacker.

Delivered from an attack of toads by the Long Patrol of rabbits, Hon. Rosie, Thyme, and Clary, she’s entrusted to Pakatugg the squirrel to take her to Redwall. She parts ways with the self-serving squirrel and decides to make her own way to, encountering Tarquin L Woodsorrel, an eccentric but courageous hare, who takes her there. Welcomed, bathed against her wishes, clothed, and nourished by the inhabitants, she joins in their Jubilee, during which verses are sung that are a prophesy of her–at which her memory is awakened.

She determines to go back to rescue or avenge her father against Gabool. But the companions she has met while at Redwall will not let her go along. Tarquin joins her along with Durry Quill the hedgehog and Dandin, who is carrying the sword of Martin, given him by Simeon the herbalist, prompted by a dream message from Martin. They are guided on the way by old prophecies–when they remember to pay attention to the signs. They survive many adventures, eventually finding their way to Gabool’s refuge.

Mariel is not the only one seeking revenge against Gabool. Separately, Lord Rawnstripe seeks revenge for badgers killed by Gabools searats. When a ship lands he slaughters them all and takes the ship, sailing for Terramort.

Meanwhile, Redwall faces its own challenges. Captain Greypatch, leading a group of searats who seize the Darkqueen after her previous captain, Saltar, is treacherously killed by Gabool who brooks no rivals. Gabool mobilizes his fleet to find the Darkqueen but she lands on the shore of Mossflower wood, capture Pakatugg, and the company, with their oarslaves, make their way to the outskirts of Redwall, deciding that would make a great fortress if they can displace its warriors. As at other times, bereft of their warriors, the residents of Redwall make up in resourcefulness and courage what they lack in might, confounding their enemies, who are dwindling and discontented. A courageous raid by the Long Patrol, now returned, rescues captive mice and Pakatugg, but at a cost.

Gabool is left alone in his fortress, growing increasingly paranoid, hearing the bell ring, not understanding the cryptic markings on it and dreaming of the coming of a giant badger until dream becomes reality and Lord Rawnstripe arrives, as do all the others who would avenge themselves against Gabool. Will any succeed?

I love the strong female characters, particularly the Hon. Rosie, Mother Mellus, and of course, Mariel. They hold their own with the men, and more! The contrast here, as elsewhere between the camaraderies of the Redwallians versus the discord among the evil searats is striking, and how evil self-destroys and consumes its own. The idea of being guided by the prophecies is one worth remembering for Christ-followers. I deeply appreciate the depictions of a clear line between good and evil and the examples of determination and courage. Jacques does all this moving back and forth between the different plotlines as we move toward climax and resolution.

I also love the joy in the commonplaces of food and drink. It occurred to me to wonder if the dishes described have been collected in a cookbooks with recipes. I discovered they have in the Redwall Cookbook! I wonder if people have Redwall feasts…

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Woodrow Wilson High School

/ rtrube54 / 13 Comments
Image by Joan Minenok Yanchick. ©Joan Minenok Yanchick. Used with permission.

Over the past couple years, I’ve written brief articles about the history of the public and parochial high schools in Youngstown. Today is the day for Woodrow Wilson High School. I had two personal connections with Wilson. One was that when I was visiting my girlfriend (now my wife), who lived in Brownlee Woods in the days when I-680 ended at South Avenue, I often cut over to Gibson, drove past Wilson, and took a few other side streets over to Midlothian. The other is that my wife’s best friend from childhood to this day was a Wilson grad (my wife went to Cardinal Mooney). It turns out that this was not uncommon–students from the two schools often grew up and hung out together.

With the growth of the Southside in the 1920’s additional school space was needed. Woodrow Wilson opened in 1928 to serve junior high students and initially also had six classrooms dedicated to grades 1-6. There were also two rooms dedicated to Fresh Air students with special needs. By 1932, with the opening of Bennett Elementary and increasing crowding, the decision was made that Wilson would serve only Junior High students, grades 7-9. In 1936, students moving on to 10th grade stayed at Wilson and by the 1938-39 year, it became a full-fledged high school with enrollment totalling 1551 students. In 1939, an addition was built for vocational and arts programs.

Joan Minenok Yanchick (’72), a source for much of this article, described Wilson as the hub of the community. Various extra-curricular programs from athletics to cheerleading to arts and drama programs meant that students were often around the building from early morning until 10 pm in the evening. There was always a great sense of both pride and cameraderie, beginning in the early years when students and faculty teamed up to collect the funds to plant lawns and landscape the dusty and muddy surroundings left by construction of the school. In Joan Minenok Yanchick’s day, she recalls how a group of 28 girls gathered each day in the cafeteria, pushing tables together.

Woodrow Wilson High School Cafeteria, Image by Joan Minenok Yanchick. ©Joan Minenok Yanchick. Used with permission.

Every school has traditions. One begun in 1928 that continued for many years was the bugle call that accompanied the flag-raising each day. Wilson was also an innovator among Youngstown schools, instituting the first afternoon conference period between students and teachers to discuss the day’s school work. They were also the first to establish a permanent homeroom for all years of the high school. For many years the last part of the lunch period featured motion pictures in the auditorium. For two cents a day you could see movies like Captain Courageous. The auditorium was also the site of many outstanding play productions, some under the direction of Bob Vargo, including Oliver and Oklahoma.

Woodrow Wilson auditorium from the balcony. Image by Joan Minenok Yanchick. ©Joan Minenok Yanchick. Used with permission.

Wilson continued to change over the years. A new wing was added in 1953, and in 1954 a World War II Memorial was dedicated in remembrance of Wilson graduates who gave their lives in service to the country in that war. Later, when the building was razed, the wall was preserved and installed in the new Woodrow Wilson Alternative School and Virtual Academy. In 1962, Wilson’s teams, long known as the Presidents, became the Redmen. In 1985 Bernadine Marinelli became the first woman to serve as principal.

Like all schools, students found ways to engage in a variety of high jinks. In the mid-1960’s, a tree in front of the school was cut down. Many possible suspects were suggested, including Mooney students, but the identity of the prankster remains a mystery. Students were permitted to walk home for lunch. Some took advantage of this to hang out and smoke with friends at a pizza shop across from the school until school authorities figured out what was going on and declared the place “off limits.” Perhaps the most famous and abiding mystery is whatever happened to the engine buried on Earth Day in 1970, a symbolic act to represent eliminating the pollution produced by internal combustion engines. At an event sponsored by Student Council and the Key Club, a Health Department official spoke on pollution, the engine was buried–and subsequently disappeared. When the Wilson building was razed, people searched the area where the engine was buried with metal detectors, but it could not be found.

Newspaper clipping from The Vindicator of the Earth Day Engine Burial at Wilson High School. Clipping courtesy of Joan Minenok Yanchick.

As Youngstown’s school population declined from the 1980’s on, South High School closed in 1993 and then East in 1998 (to subsequently reopen in a new building). Students came to Wilson from both schools. In 2004, the school transitioned to a “Small School” concept with part of the school becoming the Class Academy and part the Center for Interactive Exploration. With further enrollment declines, the class of 2007 was the last to graduate from Wilson. On May 26, 2007 over 2000 alumni walked through the school for the final time, sharing stories with their children and grandchildren. The building was razed in 2008 but the Wilson name lives on at 2725 Gibson as the Woodrow Wilson Alternative School and Virtual Academy. It houses the War Memorial and serves grades 3-12.

Main Hallway. Image by Joan Minenok Yanchick. ©Joan Minenok Yanchick. Used with permission.

The hallways of Woodrow Wilson High School are only memories, along with the strains of “Wilson High, We Love You Dearly” and the Wilson fight song, to the tune of Ohio State’s “Across the Field.” I suspect a number of graduates still have their copy of Orion, their school yearbook and reminisce at alumni reunions. Many alumni will drive great distances just to have dinner with another Wilson alumnus. Once a year, a number of alumni gather for the Woodrow Wilson Geneva Bike Run. It sounds to me that for many, ties of friendship run long and deep.

I hope those of you who are Wilson alumni will add your own memories to this history. Go Redmen!

_______________________________

I’d like to thank Joan Minenok Yanchik for her help with images, memories, and history of Wilson without which this article would not have been possible.

The “History of Woodrow Wilson High School” compiled from Olga Jaronski (’39) and Debbie Smith (’68) was an invaluable resource, also scanned and sent to me by Joan Minenok Yanchik.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Review: Nourishing Narratives

/ rtrube54 / 2 Comments

Nourishing Narratives, Jennifer L. Holberg. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2023.

Summary: Making sense of our lives and our faith through the stories that shape us.

Stories have a powerful way of shaping our lives. Some are the stories we tell of ourselves. Some are the stories that have captured our imagination. And there is the story of our faith, the larger story of God in which we find ourselves. Jennifer L. Holberg, a professor of English and co-director of Calvin College’s Center of Faith and Writing found her own life shaped by stories from childhood and loves exploring their shaping power with her students. In this work, she reflects on the ways stories have shaped her and how they are central to a vibrant Christian faith.

She opens the book by sharing some of the story of discovering the power of story in her life and the work she does with students to read stories in nuanced ways that nourish their lives. She draws on sources as diverse as old cookbooks, the Exodus narratives, and the poetry of Mary Oliver and Gerard Manley Hopkins to explore the idea of enough. Carrie Newcomer’s lyrics open a chapter on the grace of the ordinary, going on to explore Mary Oliver’s “Summer Morning” and “In the Storm,” in which the tails of ducks form a roof to protect sanderlings, “a hedge of feathers” that is a miracle amid the ordinary. And then she speaks of the faithfulness of her own father, a military officer who modeled Christ, put family first, and remembers the anniversary of her doctorate each year.

She uses Tennyson’s In Memoriam to explore the nature of friendship and loss, remarking the power of churches bringing casseroles and cakes when you are in trouble, the need to be vulnerable, and the generous gift that enabled Harper Lee to write To Kill a Mockingbird–the generosity of a friend. In another chapter, she spotlights the biblical Martha and Matthias, the thirteenth apostle, those ready to serve as faithful witnesses.

I found the chapter on “Small Steps at Very Great Cost” particularly striking. Holberg writes of our experiences of the pandemic. As a single person who was used to being alone, a bit of a hermit, she enjoyed it in a way, yet like many of us was deeply concerned with the rents in our social fabric. She quotes a poem of Tracy K. Smith, “An Old Story” with the phrase “When at last we knew how little/Would survive us–how little we had mended.” but concludes with the reappearance of creatures and color thought gone forever, expressing the renewal out of the ashes that we hope for. She speaks tellingly of the power of our words, the stories we tell, not to save, but to shape; likewise the small acts of great service, the considering of the other’s interest. And to those who would hurl the epithet “sheep” at those who embrace the servant way, she considers this an honor. She is following the Lamb of God.

The whole thrust of this book is to draw together the constituent elements of hope, because such hope, nourished on story is what sees us through. She concludes the book sharing of her love of working with students. She is not one to bemoan “this generation” but rather shares her hope for them as they explore stories together to know they are loved, to know they are enough, and to know their voice matters.

I think I would have loved to have Holberg as a teacher. She loves literature, not as material just to analyze and critique, but when read closely, to read our lives and offer hope. She writes both with informal elegance and spunk, sharing vulnerably her own stories, even challenging the silence around women’s health issues and menstruation. Through the many poems and stories, we see the biblical story, the pilgrim journey in the way of the cross, the hope of those who forsake all to follow Christ. She sums up what she has drawn from these stories (and particularly from The Divine Comedy) in three phrases. Don’t be afraid. Love in abundance. God’s got this.

These are good watchwords and evidence someone who has mastered, or been mastered by, her subject matter. How we need these words for our time. What strikes me as I consider this is that they reflect the kinds of stories to which Holberg has given herself–true, noble, good, and beautiful stories. Not all stories are such, nor would all lead to these watchwords. On what narratives will we nourish ourselves?

________________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: Night at the Vulcan

/ rtrube54 / 1 Comment

Night at the Vulcan, (Roderick Alleyn #16), Ngaio Marsh. New York Felony & Mayhem, 2014, originally published in 1951.

Summary: An actor is found dead in the actor’s dressing room at the end of a play. It appears to be suicide by gas asphyxiation, but Alleyn finds clues pointing to murder by someone in the company.

Another Ngaio Marsh theatre mystery. She loved the theatre and set a number of murders there. For once, Alleyn was not in the audience and a witness to the death!

Martyn Tarne is an aspiring actress come to London from New Zealand. At least before she was robbed of most of her funds and repeatedly rejected for parts. Her last stop was The Vulcan, where she heard a new play was being staged. But the cast has been finalized. The play begins in a few days. But all is not lost. She overhears that the female lead, Helena Hamilton, has lost her dresser. She asks for the job, and is afforded a place to stay, first at the theatre, and then with Jacques Dore, the set and costume designer.

There are a number of fraught relationships within the company. Helena’s former husband, Clark Bennington is a fading, alcoholic actor, relying more on tricks and upstaging others than skill, particularly provoking character actor J.G. Darcey. Helena has had a long term affair with Adam Poole, her male lead and also the manager of the theatre. Gay Gainsford is Bennington’s niece who he has been able to get cast, even though she is a poor fit for her part. Meanwhile, the playwright, Dr. Rutherford hangs about the theatre, cruelly ridiculing the actors, especially Gainsford.

Martyn adds to the tensions by her resemblance to Adam Poole. As it turns out, she is a distant relation. In the play, Gainsford plays a part in which her resemblance to Poole features in the climactic scene between the two, a scene that she hasn’t mastered in looks or acting. Tarne is asked to read for the part as an understudy and it is plain to everyone that she should have been cast for it, including Bennington and Gainsford.

So many possible murder victims. So many possible suspects. The murder is made to appear to be a suicide by gas asphyxiation, which has happened once before when the theatre was named the Jupiter (featured in a Marsh short story). But Alleyn finds evidence to the contrary, not the least that the victim’s makeup had been refreshed for the curtain call and had previously boast of a letter from an Otto Brod being a “trump card.”

One of the unusual features of this is that Alleyn, after several hours, solves the murder on the spot. There is the culminating scene of the whole cast gathered as Alleyn walks through the evidence–and then dismisses everyone–but the murderer doesn’t leave.

This is well-executed. About half the story builds up to the murder, and about half involves the investigation. This is Marsh at her best in her favorite setting!

Review: The Beginning and End of All Things

/ rtrube54 / 1 Comment

The Beginning and End of All Things (Essential Studies in Biblical Theology), Edward W. Klink III. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2023.

Summary: Proposes that creation is not confined to beginnings but unfolds throughout the biblical story, concluding in the new creation.

Edward W. Klink III contends that the church has a truncated doctrine of creation, focused only on the beginning of all things. We focus on the scientific controversies around beginnings. We see it as subordinate to redemption and we are often focused more on the end of all things. Klink argues that the doctrine of creation ties all of this together and runs through the narrative of scripture. He sees the work of Jesus both revealing and fulfilling the purpose of creation and the new creation being the end for which all things were created.

He begins with Genesis 1 and 2 and the covenantal relationship God establishes with his people as prophets, priests, in a creation that is the temple of God. Genesis 3 tells the story of creation under the curse of sin, while revealing God’s ongoing commitment to creation, eventuating in redemption. Genesis 11 is the focus of the next step in this unfolding story, that of creation’s confusion at Babel as the ultimate expression of the anti-God city of man.

In Abraham God renews and reinstates his vision for humanity, the promise of a new country. Israel embodies the new Adamic humanity; prophets, priests, and kings with God in their midst. Yet, their failure opens the way for God to fully reveal creation’s purpose in Christ as prophet, priest and king. He is not only these things, but also the temple. Klink asserts that Jesus was never plan B (or C) but the one toward whom creation’s purpose pointed. One of the most fascinating parts of his discussion is his reflection on John 18-20 where the agony, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus are set in a garden with Jesus as the Gardener as he comes to Mary, reversing the story of the first garden. He explores how the cross’s suffering and shame restores what was lost in partaking of the tree, bringing what was intended in creation to fulfillment.

Just as Christ as second Adam fulfills creation’s purpose, so the church fulfills the corporate Adam’s (Israel’s) purpose, becoming, as the body of Christ, a temple unto the Lord. As a people remaining in the world, they fulfill Adam’s embodied life, caring both for human bodies and for the rest of physical creation. All this anticipates the new creation, in which “heaven” comes to earth and all things are re-created under Christ. This in turn leads to the consummation of the sabbath rest of creation and life in God’s garden city.

I greatly appreciated the idea of the continuity of creation throughout the biblical narrative and not opposing creation and salvation. It removes salvation from a purely “spiritual” experience to one that brings redemption into our bodily life, into the care of creation, and into the expectation of the new creation. I do think there is more work to be done in explaining how Jesus is not plan B, particularly, what the work of Christ would have been had there not been a fall. Yet the picture of Christ as the one who fulfills creation’s purpose only enlarges our vision of Christ. Klink opens for us a vision of creation not truncated and subordinated, but integral throughout the biblical story to the purposes of God in Christ.

________________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: Your Body is a Revolution

/ rtrube54 / 2 Comments

Your Body is a Revolution, Tara Teng. Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2023.

Summary: Written by an embodiment coach and somatic practitioner, this book advocates for re-connecting with our bodies and names the different ways we have been estranged from our bodies through beliefs about the body, shaming, traumatic abuses, and political oppression and how we can learn to listen to and reconnect with our bodies.

Tara Teng is an embodiment coach and somatic practitioner who helps people who for one reason or another are disconnected from their bodies to learn to lovingly come home to their bodies. She describes herself as a “bisexual, biracial Asian American cisgender woman.” Much of the book reflects her journey from the beliefs and experiences that shaped her early experiences in a purity culture-oriented evangelical church. She experienced shaming having to do with her female body and the impact of how she moved and the clothing she wore on men in her church. She grew up with a spirit-body dualism that told her that spirit was good, the body evil. For her, it was necessary to move away from these beliefs to begin a journey of healing. Yet she mentions how compelling the incarnation of Jesus is for her, not only for his own embodiedness but that he was embodied through the conception, gestation, and birth process, carried and pushed out by a woman in all the messiness and wonder of birth. Mary’s labor was indeed a holy act.

She speaks of learning to express emotion repressed in the body and to engage in embodiment meditation that expresses those emotions. She discusses the responses of the body to trauma: fight, flight, freeze, and faun, and how traumas can shape whole cultures, especially minority cultures. She engages in an analysis of the way political power oppresses the body, whether patriarchy, Jim Crow, and capitalist oppression of labor. She also discusses the journeys of disabled people to show compassion on their bodies as given rather than be subject to those who would “fix” them.

In her thinking about sexuality, she has moved to a place of gender fluidity, allowing people to embrace the gender and sexual expressions they feel most fully affirm their sense of self. She speaks in great detail about sexual dysfunctions, with an emphasis on those who are anatomically female, and how these often reflect traumas and how somatic therapies can help uncover and heal these traumas. She describes the foundation of her sexual ethic “is to do no harm and leave people better than I found them.” Her ethic is rooted in consent, doing no violence, and listening to each other’s embodied boundaries to give and receive the greatest pleasure. She invites people to reclaim their erotic selves and the goodness of their sexuality, however they would express it within the above mentioned ethical and physical boundaries.

Her concluding chapters concern learning to be an advocate for one’s embodied self, the ways she has reconstructed her spirituality around non-violent practice, and reclaiming right relationships not only with people but also the environment, her “non-human kin.”

Teng’s narrative underscores the terrible consequences of the history of Christianity’s distorted theologies of the body, including the mind-body dualism that was more Greek than Christian. She rightly intuits that in both creation and incarnation, there is a basis for the goodness of our embodiedness as well as right relationships with the rest of our physical world. There is so much in her work that I would affirm.

There are some places where I have reservations. One is that she draws upon a Marxist critique of the exploitation of capitalism on bodies. That, in itself may be warranted, but it needs to be turned on countries that have embraced Marxism in some form as well, which if anything have been far more exploitive of bodies. As much as I would join her in affirming the goodness of our sexuality and the pleasure the body affords, I would differ on matters of gender fluidity. Apart from relatively rare cases of gender ambiguity, the givenness of our bodies, our very embodied character often clashes with gender fluidity, as many feminist groups have observed. Also, working in university settings, I’m aware of how complicated the idea of “consent” can be–how fraught with contradictions it may be in many situations in which students find themselves. I’d hope we might have conversation about such things without pulling out “shaming” or “phobic” language.

The other, perhaps more substantive criticism I would make of this book as someone approaching the end of my seventh decade is the obliviousness of this book to older bodies, which are also good and may be delighted in with their wrinkles, crepe-y skin, and creaky joints. I wished and waited in vain for her to address agism and the forms of oppression imposed upon older bodies, not only in care facilities but in daily life. I would cite the difference between having physical therapy with a twenty-something versus a fifty-something who is far more acquainted with the realities as well as the potentials of older bodies. I would cite the attempts to scam me simply because of the color of my hair, the perception of my age. While we may be aware of changes, we also continue to derive great joy and pleasure in our bodies yet are also subject to forms of shaming, oppression, and abuse. This also needs to be named.

I want to acknowledge, despite my critiques, that this book made me think. I found many of the exercises helpful in listening to my body. Teng helps us discover how good our bodies are. She rightly challenges the defective theologies, practices and abuses of the church that have inflicted so much harm. Where we differed, or when I found myself ill at ease with an idea, she challenged me to figure out why. I read too many books that never do that so I valued this. I’m heartened with the growing interest in Christian circles on embodiment. I hope the critique and the alternatives writers like Teng pose lead to a ressourcement, a return to the sources and a recovery of a far more Hebraic understanding of the body, the vision undergirding the Jewish and Christian scriptures.

________________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers Program.

Review: American Idolatry

/ rtrube54 / 3 Comments

American Idolatry, Andrew L. Whitehead. Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2023.

Summary: Drawing on sociological research showing the association of racism and xenophobia with Christian nationalism, argues of the dangers of the idolatries of power, fear and violence to the American church.

My exposures to Christian nationalism are of the anecdotal character–the heartbreak of pastors whose people forsake sound teaching for a message of nationalism laced with fear and calls to the assertion of power or even to violent uprising. I also know the heartbreaking work of walking alongside young people “de-constructing” their faith because of alienation from churches that have become captive to such messages, which seems so unlike what they’ve encountered of Jesus in the gospels.

Andrew Whitehead articulates with academic rigor the concerns I have in my personal encounters. He writes as someone growing up within evangelicalism who wrestles with whether it is possible to be both Christian and patriot (yes) and how Christian nationalism is different from both. As a Christian, he argues that Christian nationalism is an empty, hollow philosophy rooted in idolatries of power, fear, and violence. As a sociologist, he notes studies that show how the embrace of Christian nationalism is one of the best predictors of both racist and anti-immigrant attitudes.

He begins with defining Christian nationalism as the conviction that civic life should be organized according to a particular form of conservative Christianity. This includes a moral traditionalism that maintains social hierarchies (between men and women, economic classes, races, and outsiders) and supports authoritarian social control to maintain those boundaries, including the threat and use of violence. He spends a chapter defining this, noting that signs of this in churches are American flags in sanctuaries, messages of fear or self-interest from the pulpit, “Celebrate America” services around July 4, defense of seeking access to power, comfort with the use of violence, and us versus them thinking.

The next three chapters look at three manifestations of idolatry, which he describes, quoting Kaitlyn Schiess as the “capitulation to a different story and set of values. Idols make promises of protection and provision, and they require allegiance. He looks at the focus on using power to benefit “us” versus seeking the common good of all, and contrasts this with the approach of a Jesus who “turns the other cheek. For example, are we concerned with defending our religious liberty or protecting the religious liberty of all? Then he looks at how fear becomes an idol attracting followers by evoking fears around race, immigrants, and religion and contrasts this to the teaching of Jesus who calls his disciples to “fear not.” He notes for the example the evoking of the fears of the presence of immigrants leading to higher crime rates when in fact the crime rates among this group are lower. Finally, Whitehead considers how Christians have legitimated the use of violence in the assertion of power to attain the goals of conservative Christianity, as visibly evident in the January 6 effort to seize the Capitol building and prevent the Constitutional certification of the election and succession of the presidency. Whitehead believes this to be deeply embedded in our history both with Indigenous people and Blacks maintaining first slavery, and then racial subordination. Again he contrasts this with the command of Jesus to “lay down your sword.”

Chapters six and seven then discuss how power, fear, and violence associated with Christian nationalism are connected empirically with racism and xenophobia. He offers suggestions for readings and one of the most important suggestions he offers is for white churches to relinquish social control, sharing the example of Shalom Community Church’s reparations efforts and relnquishing all controls of funds collected to Black religious and community leaders. He observes how we will go on short-term mission trips but want to refuse entry of people from the same countries to the US. He profiles the Neighbor to Neighbor ministry that has worked to welcome immigrants and how it has replaced fear with joy.

In his concluding chapter, he speaks of the challenge to tell better stories than the idol stories the Christian nationalism has embraced. I think this is spot on. My sense is that the appeal of Christian nationalism is that it offers both a cause and a sense of being empowered, and yet these are not derived from the gospel of Jesus and his kingdom. I’ve been saddened oftentimes by not only how destructive and divisive is Christian nationalism. I’m saddened by how small it is compared to the grand narrative of the gospel that brings both personal and social transformation, breaking down every barrier, and accomplishing through spiritual power and the power of love what political power and armed violence can never achieve. Whitehead’s use of examples of ministries that are doing this are important–stories that can be seen and not just talk are necessary.

Whitehead’s book is also important in confronting where elements of Christian nationalism have crept into our churches. I wonder, though, how many such churches will read this. I suspect that a more significant audience may be those who have been part of such churches in the past who need to come to terms with this past, and perhaps the unconcious biases that they carry from these, even if they have reacted against the church. Reflection, lament, repentance, and embrace of the gospel offer a path of spiritual reconstruction, and this book can help point the way.

________________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — The Hopewell Theatre

/ rtrube54 / 1 Comment
The Hopewell Theatre, Mahoning Commons by Jack Pierce is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

I must have walked by or driven by this old church hundreds of times to and from downtown Youngstown without paying it much attention. At one time, it was the home of the Church of St. George and built in the 1890’s. It is located at 702 Mahoning Avenue, in the Mahoning Commons neighborhood just west of the Spring Common underpass, a rail bridge over Mahoning Avenue.

In 1992, Dr. Jean McClure Kelty, a former Youngstown State professor led an effort to convert this small church building into an intimate theatre, forming a theatre company then known as the Victorian Players. The original aim was to focus on plays from the Victorian era. They called the building The Victorian Players Theater. From pictures, it looks like a cozy space with 55-60 seats that are close up on the stage, more a large living room than an auditorium.

The organization changed its name to the Hopewell Theatre, reflecting an expanding scope of plays. From photos on the Theatre’s Facebook photo page it appears that the new name for the company and theatre made its debut in the summer of 2017. In recent years their performances have included An Evening of O’Henry, Snoopy The Musical, Godspell, The Man with the Plastic Sandwich, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, 20th Century Blues, I’ll Be Back Before Midnight, Rude Awakening, Child of Glory: A Gospel Nativity, and Becky’s New Car. The Business Journal offers a preview of Becky’s New Car, which performed in Spring of 2023, giving a sense of the play and the intimate setting of the theatre.

The 23-24 season starts soon with a slate of six plays scheduled. They include:

  • August 25-September 3: Grace and Glorie, Hopewell Theatre
  • October 20-29, Sweeney Todd, Millenial Theatre Company
  • December 8-17, Exit, Pursued By A Bear, Hopewell Theatre
  • January 19-28, Cabaret, Millennial Theatre Company
  • May 17-26, It Shoulda Been You, Millenial Theatre Company
  • June 14-23, Rabbit Hole, Hopewell Theatre

As you might notice, three of the plays are offered by the Millenial Theatre Company, which also performs at the Youngstown Playhouse as well as offering a variety of classes. Their website describes the Company’s purpose as follows: “The Millennial Theatre Company (MTC), a 501(c)3 nonprofit theatrical organization, founded in April of 2016, aims to produce excellent theatrical experiences while focusing on the involvement of the Millennial Generation.”

Tickets for the performances are available through the Hopewell Theatre website. The Youngstown Foundation, The Thomases Family Endowment, and the J. Ford Crandall Memorial Foundation help provide funding for the Hopewell Theatre, but performing to full houses will certainly help the bottom line of this non-profit organization. Recent construction of ramps has enhanced handicapped access.

Dr. Kelty passed away in 2003 but her vision lives on. This year marks the 30th season for this arts organization, one that has weathered recessions and the pandemic and continues to offer live theatre productions in a unique intimate setting. I think it is amazing to see the number of cultural opportunities available in Youngstown!

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!