Prodigal Kiwi(s) Blog

Rowan Williams’ 2012 Holy Week Lectures on St Paul

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams, delivered a series of three Holy Week Lectures on the theme "St Paul: the Man and his Letters". 

The lectures took place in Canterbury Cathedral, England on 2nd, 3rd and 4th of April.  

Lecture 1 [50Mb, 52 mins]
In his first lecture, "Outsiders and Insiders: Paul's Social World" the Archbishop draws from the book of Acts and St Paul's letters to talk about the world in which Paul lived - a cosmopolitan world held together by the Greek language and the authority of the Roman Emperor, but where universal human rights and dignities did not exist. 

Lecture 2 [46Mb, 49 mins]
In his second lecture, "The Universal Welcome: Paul's Disturbing Idea", the Archbishop talks about Paul's concept of a new kind of community where the powerful divisions existing within society no longer matter.  

Lecture 3 [46Mb, 49 mins] 
In the third and final lecture, "The New Creation: Paul's Christian Universe", the Archbishop considers the process by which Paul came to understand that Jesus, one of his own contemporaries, was in fact the image of God.  

You will find the downloadable Mp3’s here. 

Ben Myers on Rowan Williams’ Theology: Succinctly!

Over the last few days I’ve been listening (and re-listening) to a succinct interview with Ben Myers in which he reflects on Rowan Williams’ theology. It’s a “whistlestop” overview of some of the key themes in Williams’ theology. Ben, as he’s done in his recently published book Christ the Stranger: The Theology of Rowan Williams (pub. 2012) does a fine job, within the time he has, of getting to the heart of the theological framework out of which Williams has operated. 

One could have wished for a longer interview, but for me it touched on the key themes that have become important to me and how I try to live – things I’ve appreciatively learnt (and am still learning) from Williams. 

Myer’s use of the analogy of marriage is a good one (if you’re married or have been), and is a grounded way of reflecting on the larger themes and challenges that Williams believes the church needs to grapple with; the ways of being that make space for, and are hospitable to the ‘other’ for the sake of the gospel.  Similarly, his reflections on how Williams understands community and relationships remain important and we will continue to need to find ways of embodying and enacting the needs and realities Williams invites us into.    

And in relation to Myers’ book I think the introduction to the radio interview gets it right: It is “a very accessible and engaging critical introduction to Williams’ substantial contribution to Christian theology.” 

The programmes promo also includes the following by way of introduction: 

“…Rowan Williams has just announced he’s stepping down as Archbishop of Canterbury. He’s held the office since 2003, the 104^th incumbent since St Augustine of Canterbury in 597. Rowan Williams will be leaving the post in December, and becoming Master of Magdalene College at Cambridge. Opinions vary widely about the success or otherwise of Rowan Williams’ leadership of the international Anglican Communion, spanning a decade of huge theological and political divisions, particularly over women priests and bishops, and homosexuality. 

Yet there is much stronger consensus on the point that Williams is a theologian of particular note, one of the most influential of our time. From Christian doctrine such as the resurrection, the nature and purpose of the church, and the Trinity, to the philosophy of religious language, and contemporary issues like religious pluralism, sexuality and the body, and economics and society ... Williams has brought a sophisticated and subtle intellect, a creative imagination, and a wide reading of literature, to his theological reflections. He’s also an acclaimed poet…”

You can find the (downloadable) interview here. 

Ben Myers on Rowan Williams and the Empty Tomb:

“Rowan Williams has long argued that the existence of the church - precisely as a new community, a new form of human life - is immediately implicated in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

The church simply is humanity made new, a new world in which the age-old divisions and boundaries and bigotries constitutive of human society have been transcended, and rendered utterly obsolete. For Williams, the resurrection brings forth new social patterns: forgiveness, peacemaking, patience, truth-telling. And this new form of social life entails new ways of speaking about God:

"We learn to look at all human faces with the rather disturbing knowledge that they are faces that God has already looked at ... Any divisions in our world, class, race, church loyalty, have to be confronted with the painful truth that apparently we find it easier than God does to manage without certain bits of the human creation." 

The resurrection is thus God's unequivocal "Yes" to all the diverse bits of humanity - it is God's commitment to a reconciled world. This is why, as Williams often reminds, the first-century Christians perceived questions of social identity and social boundaries as theological questions, questions about the identity of God.

Redemption is therefore never a matter of private - much less "spiritual" - salvation, nor is it a vaguely edifying symbol of human striving for life and justice. It is, rather, an embodied occurrence within our world, something that changes what is possible for all human lives.

It is for just this reason that Williams insists, rather unfashionably, on the importance of the empty tomb, the physical embodiment of the risen Christ. If Christ is not raised in bodily form, then he would remain foreign to embodied human experience, to all those awkward joys and sorrows of social life. It is bodily resurrection that secures Christ's relevance to our lives here and now.

This Easter vision means the church is necessarily never an end in itself. It is the experimental beginning of a new creation, what Williams calls a "pilot project for the human race." The church is God's own experiment with a reconciled, catholic humanity. Catholicity - a single, universal human family - is not just one of the marks of the church's identity; it is the church's whole rationale, the essential form of its life, and the substance of its message to the world. Catholicity is the continuing reality - indeed, the very terrestrial embodiment - of Christ's resurrection.

The Christian message, Williams thinks, is just the sort of thing that ought to take root in different places, languages and cultures. If the church were but a parochial sect or some specialised sub-culture, then its own existence would disprove its message. A universal community, constantly reaching beyond itself to those from "every tribe and tongue and people and nation" (Revelation 5.9), shows that Christ is risen indeed, and that no human boundaries can contain his life.

The church's identity and its mission, therefore, are one and the same. The church has no internal identity prior to or apart from its engagement with the world. Its very existence is a demonstration that "he is not here; he is risen" (Luke 24.6). The church is Christ's own life translated into the medium of human community.

"The church is wider than the world," said John Chrysostom. Williams agrees. The message of Christ's resurrection continually draws the church beyond itself, into a world whose fundamental divisions have been abolished. The catholicity of the church is simply its capacity "to accommodate human beings in the full range of their humanity." 

You can read Myer’s fully reflection here. They’re excerpts from his wonderful book Christ the Stranger: The Theology of Rowan Williams. 

 

Rowan Williams: Kiss and Tell

I’ve been listening to Rowan Williams these last few days – well actually one 2002 talk several times. I’ve listened a lot to him over the years, but his 2002 Greenbelt talk – Kiss and Tell: Intimacy and Mystical Experience - is one of the very best talks I’ve heard him deliver, and as I’m discovering it benefits from repeated listening, not because its technical (and in that sense complex), but because its simultaneously accessible, profoundly human, and yet also deep – it’s content circling around the profundity of God’s love for us, and love for God, and the importance of human love and loving. He explores why we turn so often to the language of human love, loving, and intimacy to talk about and explore our experience of God.    

For me I couldn’t but help hear St. Paul and his letter to the churches in Corinth (1 Cor. 13:1-7). I’m glad too that over the years I’ve had the likes of Williams, the Christian Mystics and many other wise persons walking along side me, helping me change and deepen my experience of what it means to be fully human; what it means to be alive; and what it means to truly love. But, the journey is still not over, the unfolding continues. 

Other strands woven through the fabric of his talk:

• The importance of the Christian mystics, in particular: St. John of the Cross & St. Bernard of Clairvaux.
• The Song of Songs and the very human acts of yearning, passion, and hunger for another person – for love, and to be loved and wanted for who we are.
• Human loving, relating, and intimacy.
• The absence and withdrawal of love.
• The importance of love maturing and deepening.
• The mystery and depth of our humanity – there is always more; we’re always more than can be seen and experienced. The multi-dimensional, multi-layered realities of being fully and wholly human.
• The importance of the longevity of love and loving – love as something that matures and enlarges – enlarges our relating to self, others, and God. Love as a journey of unfolding.
• The inevitability that to truly love will also, as a consequence, entails the experience of pain. To feel no deep, wordless pain in our human relating and within the context of human intimacy is, as a corollary, not to have truly or deeply loved. Love hurts, but love is the source of the most profound and sublime joy, peace and deep contentment. 

If you haven’t heard Williams start with this talk (downloadable here), and then carry on with this Holy Week talks: here (the Narnia stories from 2011) and via here (on growing in prayer from 2009). 

Getting Out from Under the Mitre: Archbishop Rowan Williams Stepping Down as Archbishop of Canterbury

“…The Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Rowan Williams has today revealed that he is to step down from his role at the end of the year. 

His decision comes after 10 years in the post and after accepting the position of Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge. 

In a statement issued from Lambeth Palace, the Primate of All England said, “It has been an immense privilege to serve as Archbishop of Canterbury over the past decade, and moving on has not been an easy decision. During the time remaining there is much to do, and I ask your prayers and support in this period and beyond… 

…Archbishop Rowan’s announcement means that ACC-15 in New Zealand during the last quarter of this year will be his last as President of the ACC…” 

Greenbelt’s Paul Northrop, had this to say about the resignation. It captures several of his ‘hidden’ qualities: 

Personally speaking, during Rowan’s tenure as Archbishop, I have been saddened to all-but lose sight of that wonderful priestly poet and theologian who I was so excited to see first come into office, as he has struggled under the sheer weight of the institution that is the Church of England. 

As a post-grad theology student in the 90s, I remember Rowan, as Archbishop of Wales then, coming to a Theology Reading Group I was part of. There, he sat with just six of us around a table and genially answered our questions to him about his book On Christian Theology. He had time for us. I was then, and have been ever since, a fan of his theology, his poetry, his thoughtful integrity as a person – and, yes, his godliness. 

My hope for Rowan as he readies himself for the move to Cambridge at the end of the year, is that there he will find the space and time to recover his vocation as poet, priest and teacher. The Church still needs to hear his voice and pay attention to his witness. And, who knows, perhaps the playful and prophetic dimensions of his artistry might again regain their power at the margins. In other words, my hope is that this change in his role might, oddly, give Rowan more not less influence…” 

As a recent reviewer of Ben Myers’ new book on Rowan Williams’ theology (which is outstanding, by the way. I recommend it highly) wrote: 

“One of the few missing features – perhaps weaknesses – of the book is a lack of notice that +Rowan usually speaks far more clearly than he writes. Williams’ writing can often seem a difficult, dry, protracted and sometimes depressing exercise in spiritual renunciation of the fantasies of the heart and mind. By contrast his presence in person is attentive, humorous and kind. There is a self-forgetfulness (literally a forgetfulness of self) to the archbishop that is very attractive…”

Update - 25th March 2012

Ben Myers (author of book to the right) offers a few thoughts on what kind of an academic William's will be at Cambridge. You can find it here. 

Against Innocence: The Gift of Peacemaking and Reconciliation

On the enneagram “nines” are often named as “peacemakers”. I’m not a “9”, but over recent times have more and more found myself in the peacemaker / reconciler role. I want to hold difference together. To encourage people to remain in conversation, to finds ways forward together, and to harness and focus the gifts of difference. I had to do it last week at work. 

In his foreword to Against Innocence: Gillian Rose’s Reception and the Gift of Faith (authored by Andrew Shanks) Giles Fraser writes:

“…The mediator pursues a theology that refuses that a disagreement can ever reach a point where there is no benefit to be gained from further conversation. Put a different way, it is a refusal to accept that two seemingly irreconcilable positions are indeed irreconcilable…” 

Quoting Rowan Williams, “…Reflection requires that the plain opposition of positive and negative be left behind. Thinking is not content with the abstraction of mutual exclusivities, but struggles to conceive of a structured wholeness nuanced enough to contain what appeared to be contradictories.” 

“…The sort of peace negotiation suggested by [Gillian] Rose and [Andrew] Shanks has a definite strategy: It attempts to dismantle our desire for innocence. For what is recognized by the true mediator is that innocence - of the ‘longing to be utterly sure of our rightness’, as [Rowan] Williams puts it – is exactly the motivation that leads people to reject compromise and continue with [conflict]…” On the contrary, Shanks writes, the aim of the mediator is to resist “the stubborn desire for the sort of moral purity that refuses negotiation” and a willingness to finds ways of compromise, ways forward together. Peace and truth do not stand in opposition to one another (cf. South Africa’s profoundly courageous commitment to the outworking of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission)

But, as you will have noticed, the first step is to dismantle any sense that we are entirely innocent. None of us are! We’re all compromised. We all have egos. We all have a deeply entrenched commitment to living out of our false selves. We all only ever see in part, and often on see what we want or need to see. The work of mediation and reconciliation requires great courage. Firstly, the courage to face into ones own interior realities (motives, false desires, sin, woundedness and brokenness, our shadows etc). Secondly, to have the courage to remain open, open to deep listening, seeing from the perspective of the other, being fully present, vulnerable and humble, and feeling with the ‘other’ (i.e. being genuinely empathetic). And, finally, it is to have the courage to trust, to be willing to enter uncharted territory, and to see in the other the presence of gift and invitation, the invitation to me to become more than I am, i.e. the courage to accept the invitation to continuing change and growth. 

I am not a “9” but I am deeply committed to the work of mediation and reconciliation; to finding healthy and hopeful ways forward, even though those things mean I often have to place myself in very vulnerable places, aware that I am not ever wholly innocent, or without shared responsibility for what is broken, for particular outcomes etc. 

Work for peace and reconciliation requires ceaseless effort, a profound willingness to sit with ones own pain, great moral courage, humility, and a vision of what might be possible. In this sense it is deeply eschatological work. It is the work of the gospel. It is the Jesus-following way. 

Giles Fraser writes, “Rose’s work is an encouragement to pay attention to the philosophical condition of human fallenness. Human beings are haunted by complexity, compromised by mixed motives, and debased by threads of complicity and cruelty and untruthfulness. We continually seek to represent ourselves with various fictions of our own innocence… This isn’t so much a counsel of despair; rather, it’s a fearlessly honest description of what it takes to love our neighbor…”          

Christ the Stranger: The Theology of Rowan Williams

I’ve had it ordered since around 2010, but it appears that Ben Myers book Christ the Stranger: The Theology of Rowan Williams is nearing its publication date. Can’t wait to get and read my copy.

Related, is a brief edited extract from the book. The article us titled: POLITICS OF THE EMPTY CHURCH: WHY ROWAN WILLIAMS DEFENDED SHARI'A LAW and naturally enough its written by Ben (Thanks to my Aussie-Kiwi friend Jason Goroncy for bringing it to my attention). Here’s a few excerpts from Ben’s article:

“Contemporary western societies have witnessed the emergence of a new tribalism, fuelled by the logic of capitalism with its proliferation of niche identities and by the politics of multiculturalism with its advocacy of mere "difference," while lacking the language to articulate any vision of a common good. 

Such multicultural pluralism is a mirror image of the postmodern ethics of difference, where each person is assumed to be absolutely "other." 

Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams argues that, once this doctrine of otherness has taken hold of political imagination, we are left with the depressing prospect of "a world in which there aren't and couldn't be any real discussion of the goals and destiny of human beings as such." 

…The resulting social order starts to look like a Hobbesian war of all against all, a chaotic rivalry between segregated interest groups, each ruthlessly brandishing its own rights and freedoms while the State is reduced to the role of suppressing open conflict by policing the borders of "difference"… 

Taking up the philosophy of Hegel, Williams argues that the church is not one interest group alongside others, but a community whose only "interest" is the interest of all… 

… If Christ is anything less than the redeemer of the world, it will not make sense to speak of him as our own "personal lord and saviour." He can be relevant to anybody only if he is relevant to all. 

Here Williams develops Hegel's argument that there is no such thing as mere individual freedom. Freedom is mediated through community, and any purely individual freedom is pathological. 

Human persons "have no legitimate interests that are purely private or individual" - there are no legitimate individual ends which do not somehow coincide with the good of the whole community. 

Williams also views the concept of "rights" along these lines. Rights are not something that I brandish like a weapon against the rights of others. Rather I relinquish my purely private rights "so as to negotiate with other persons a good neither mine nor theirs." 

Wherever one social group is convinced of some particular right, it is their responsibility to enter into a wider process of negotiation in order to discover how their own aims can form part of a common good… 

…For Williams, then, political engagement is a form of self-emptying, or "kenosis." Politics begins where I am dispossessed of my attachment to my own interests, and I accept responsibility for the interests of others…” 

Ben’s brief article offers some really fascinating insights, insights that can be read into an applied in a whole range of contexts, from marriages to friendships and relationships of all sorts, to family (whanau) contexts, to workplaces, and so on. 

I’m reminded again of the tremendous gifts that people like Williams offer society, and am grateful to people like Ben who have the gift of being able to articulate Williams thinking and theology to a wider audience, which of course includes me. 

You can read Ben’s full article here. 

Simply Jesus and a Kingdom New Testament

Today I want to highlight a recent two-part interview with Tom Wright. In it he talks about his two most recent books: Simply Jesus, and The Kingdom New Testament: A Contemporary Translation. 

Here’s an excerpt from Part 1: 

DAVID: … The U.S. is distinctive among nations for the strength of our religious passion combined with our strong assumptions about freedom of self-expression. In our sheer religious intensity, Americans are a lot like Iranians. But, in our outspokenness, we’re a lot like Scandinavians. We’re a unique people. So, is there any particular error in our loud American expressions of Christianity that you’d like to address at the moment? 

TOM: Within Western culture in general—and American culture in particular—the Superman myth about Jesus is massive. We all enjoy Superman, Spiderman—and now Captain America once again. We love these superhuman figures who arrive, usually as outsiders, often with a secret identity—and it’s only these superheroes who can save the world. We can’t do anything much as humans; only a Superman can save our world. Not surprisingly, a lot of people equate Jesus with Superman, a figure who swoops down—most likely with violence as he sets things right—and then he zooms away again taking people with him on his strong arm. But that notion isn’t truly Christianity. That’s more like Gnosticism. It’s certainly an escapist form of religion that says the problems of this world can’t be resolved, so we must hope to flee on Superman’s arm…” 

To read the full interview go here. For part 2, go here. 

Stanley Hauerwas on Rowan Williams and the Ordinary Realities of Damaged Times

Reading this recent post by blogging-friend Jason Goroncy coincided nicely with my continued reading of Stanley Hauerwas. In The State of the University, “Appendix C” (pp. 209-213) Hauerwas offers a tribute to Rowan Williams in a substantial little paper titled “Ordinary Time: A Tribute to Rowan Williams”. 

As an aside it was interesting to see that Hauerwas’ preface to his 2004 book Performing the Faith appreciatively acknowledges Rowan and Jane Williams who (along with other (Anglican) friends of Hauerwas give him “…some intimation of what it might be like to live our lives as Christians. We live in dark times, but God gives us friends who make it possible to see through the darkness. Thank God for friends like these.” 

Having previously drawn attention to Hauerwas’ “tribute” on this site in 2006, it was a delight to re-read it again. 

Here are some excerpts that, several years after my first read, particularly resonated with me: 

“…The anthropologist David Scott has described our time as damaged… 

…According to Scott, "inerasable residues from the past stick to the hinges of the temporality we have come to rely on to secure our way, and consequently time is not quite as yielding as we have grown to expect it to be"… 

…In a damaged time we might expect—or at least hope— the church would be a beacon of hope, but instead we find ourselves consumed by debates about sexual conduct… 

…If we live in a damaged time we fear the church is part of the wreckage… 

…Yet I believe that living in damaged times and in a damaged church is where God would have us be. "The hardest thing in the world is to be where we are" is Rowan Williams’ way to remind us that the time we have been given, our confusing and damaged time, is all the time we need to attend patiently to what seems to be the intractable and contingent problems that beset us. The name for that time, a name that has always been at the heart of Williams’ work, is ordinary time. Animating Williams' work and ministry has been the conviction that through cross and resurrection we have been given the time, in a world that believes it has no time, to participate patiently in the conversation necessary for the discovery that we swim in the sea of God's love… 

…By calling attention to sheer gratuity of speech Williams is trying to help us recognize the miraculous character of ordinary time. For to live well in ordinary time is no easy achievement because we are tempted to the dramatic in the desperate attempt to make our lives significant if not heroic… 

…Williams argues that we cannot and should not try to make our lives more authentic by dramatic gestures. Rather we must learn to engage in everyday tasks as common as learning to speak the truth and, perhaps even more demanding, to hear the truth through the time consuming work of conversation… 

…The art of ordinary living, according to Williams, requires that we learn to live without fear of the complexity of everyday life. To learn to live with the complexity of everyday life means the church cannot fear having the conflicts necessary for peace. Moreover if the church is capable of such conflict the church cannot help but be deeply threatening to the world's systems of power based as they are on the fear of the other…” 

Hauerwas notes that Williams, on returning to Britain from several months in South Africa, realized that that meant being in “a context [contra South Africa] in which the central questions were not clear nor did one know what kind of “resistance” was possible or constructive”. Sadly it’s a realization that still resonates, and is equally true of the experience of living in a context like New Zealand. I suspect the realization lies near the heart of the difficulty many people have with understanding what it might mean to be a contrast community performing the faith in such a way that that “performance” is deeply missional and transformation in culture. 

Hauerwas continues: 

“…Williams confesses that he longs for a Church more true to itself. Such a church would be one more determined to oppose war, a church capable of offering hospitality to resident aliens who may be gay, a church that can challenge the economic practices that perpetuate poverty. Williams believes his desire for such a church is Godly yet he believes he: 

‘…Must also learn to live in and attend to the reality of the Church as it is, to do the prosaic things that can be and must be done now and to work at my relations now with the people who will not listen to me or those like me--because what God asks of me is not to live in the future but to live with honesty and attentiveness in the present, i.e., to be at home. We constantly try to start from somewhere other than were we are. Truthful living involves being at home with ourselves, not complacently but patiently, recognizing that what we are today, at this moment, is sufficiently loved and valued by God to be the material with which he will work, and that the longed-for transformation will not come by refusing the love and the value that is simply there in the present moment. Living in the truth involves the same sober attention to what is there--to the body, the chair, the floor, the voice we hear, the face we see--with all the unsatisfactoriness that this brings. Yet this is what it means to live in the kingdom where Jesus rules, the kingdom that has no frontiers to be defended…’ (Christ on Trial, pp. 85-86.) 

… Yet it is my conviction that Archbishop Williams' understanding of the time in which we must live as Christians, of how we must live in the world as we find it, shares much with what I learned first from John Howard Yoder… 

… Yoder observes to "rule the world" in fellowship with the Lamb "will sometimes mean humbly building a grassroots culture, with Jeremiah. Sometimes (as with Joseph and Daniel) it will mean helping the pagan king solve one problem at a time. Sometimes (again with Daniel and his friends) it will mean disobeying the King's imperative of idolatry, refusing to be bamboozled by the claims made for the Emperor's new robe or his fiery furnace." We are able so to live in the time "where we are" because we believe to so live is the shape of the work of Christ… 

…We have an Archbishop who exemplifies what it means to live patiently in time by refusing to let us isolate ourselves from one another. The name we give to that refusal is "communion"…” 

If you haven’t got a copy of the book, you can find a PDF of the May 2006 paper here.    

 

Rowan Williams: God’s Boxer…?

Today, a shortish interview with Rowan Williams – nothing particularly new, but a few little insights. Something to read with your morning coffee in hand… 

Here’s an excerpt 

“…So for me it was a great privilege to be able to question him properly, this time by strolling down Miss Havisham's draughty corridors all the way to his vast study in Lambeth Palace. It's hard to believe that such an enormous room can be overwhelmed by files, papers, candles and icons, but it is. If the archbishop's echoing, cavernous mind sometimes seems to resemble this room, then that's because he's …prodigiously learned … 

…The archbishop is clearly resigned to the inevitability of being misrepresented ("Did you know the editorial would excite the press?" "I had a shrewd suspicion." "Are you now immune to it?" "Not entirely, but I'm inured to it"), but on occasions, I suggest, it happens because he lifts the knife, then fails to plunge it in. When he observes that economic relations as they are currently played out threaten people's sense of what life is and what reality means, surely what he's really saying is that capitalism damages people. To my surprise, he agrees. Does he therefore think economic relations should be ordered in a different way? "Yes." So is it fair to say, then, that he's anti-free market capitalism? "Yes," he says and roars with laughter. "Don't you feel better for my having said it?"…” 

You can read the rest here.