Devil's Ink -- Review

DEVIL’S INK: Blog from the Basement Office. By Jeffrey C. Pugh. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011. Xiv +193 pages.

Many years ago C.S. Lewis wrote a book entitled The Screwtape Letters, which was supposedly a collection of letters written by the Devil to his minions offering guidance on how to deal with the “enemy.” One of the most famous quotations from the Lewis book warns against two opposing errors:

There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.

Nearly seventy years after Lewis wrote The Screwtape Letters, Jeffrey Pugh has written Devil’s Ink, which takes inspiration from Lewis even if the format and theology might be different. Whereas Lewis used the letter as the basis of his exploration of the problem of evil in the world, Pugh makes use of the blog, a more modern form of communication.

The author of this book is ostensibly the Devil, but you might say that the Devil has a ghost writer in Jeffrey Pugh, a professor of religious studies at Elon University in North Carolina and author of several books, including one on Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The Devil’s posts offer advice and direction to the Devil’s minions as they work to undermine the efforts of the Enemy – God – and the Body (Christ).

As for the author’s purpose, Pugh takes up this particular form of communication to help contemporary Christians wrestle with the problem of evil, especially as evil seeks to co-opt the church and its people. Although Lewis is an influence on this book, Pugh has done more than simply change the format. His picture of the Devil has had to change, because our understanding of evil has changed over the past seven decades. The starting point for this book is revealed in a rather succinct way in a sentence found in the opening paragraphs of the book: “Devil’s Ink explores how evil arises in stealthy ways in popular culture” (p. xi). But, not only does he want to shine a light on the presence of evil within popular culture, he wants to raise the specter of evil gaining access to the church through popular culture – and we’re not just talking about going to movies and listening to Rock & Roll. No, we’re talking about the way that, for instance, American culture can impact the way the church sees itself and acts in the world.

In the opening blog post “the Devil” reveals that he has chosen this format because it’s important to be “flexible and innovative or we risk losing influence.” Then he goes on to say that “if there is one thing that I fear, it is losing influence” (p. 1). As we hear this word, it’s important to remember that the audience of this book is the church, not the minions of Satan. Thus, right off the bat we’re challenged to consider how easy it is for evil to get a foothold in the church, not to mention the nation in which we live. Thus, in this “introductory post” we’re warned about the dangers of seeking influence over others, for that is the “Devil’s” game. He notes he could have used Facebook or Twitter, but the blog seemed to be the best forum, and as you read the book you will agree that the blog makes the most sense for this kind of work. The postings are, for the most part, relatively long – often covering two or more pages. There is depth here that other forms of communication can’t offer. As an aid to understand the meaning of the posting, the author provides tags, which are then explained in a glossary at the end of the book. These are revealing in and of themselves.

As to how to read the book, Pugh notes that it’s best not to try to read this all at once. Remember you’re reading posts from the Devil, so take it in small bites. And as a further reminder about how this book is to be read, the Devil notes that the Minions of Hell must make sure not to let this information leak out to the enemy – “So none of you better go all Julian Assange on me or I will have you for lunch –literally” (p. 3).

The Devil begins with several postings on desire, which he says is “truly one of the best instruments in our toolbox,” (p. 5) and then moves on to such issues as suffering, the desire for control over one’s life and the lives of others, the dangers of religion and government becoming intertwined, for as the title of one blog post puts it – “Play in Caesar’s Ballpark, Play by Caesar’s Rules" – suffering and theodicy, allegiances, money, fear, terrorism, spirituality, grace and justice, torture and science, and more. There are really very few issues that don’t warrant some comment.

As for point of view – the one that lies behind the Devil’s words of advice – Jeffrey Pugh seems to be of a Hauerwasian perspective. There is a strong sense of the importance of community, and as with Hauerwas a strong suspicion of the effects of government/political entanglements. Thus, he writes that “it works best for us when they confuse the need for order with the existence of the state” (p. 86). A few paragraphs later he writes, revealingly:

The citizens of the state invest it with the power to regulate persons so they might be secure. But in order to protect them from one another, the state must assume increasing control of their lives. What starts out as something that seems so innocent will eventually end up just where we hope – in absolute control and dominance of their bodies, and if all goes well, their souls (p. 87).

But, while government ultimately is useful to control the soul of the person, it is not alone in its ability to use violence for its own purposes – religions have shown themselves quite able and willing to resort to violence to pursue their own purposes.

In each post, the Devil reminds us that we are susceptible to influences that are cunning and resourceful. One needn’t fear the presence of a demon hiding out under every rock, but one should be and discerning and perceptive. As Jesus said, you should be as innocent as doves and wise as serpents. In the end, however, the point of contention is not the presence of the Devil, but our perception of God’s absence. The “truth of this story” concerns the reality that what drives our modern world is the fact that humanity lives as if God is absent. And thus, this means that humanity falls into the waiting hands of the Devil. He writes:

What is even better, from our perspective, is that the gods they do create in their religions to justify their orders are locked in violent struggle with one another. Many of them think that the other’s deity is a threat to their worlds. They may be right (p. 168).

Thus, whether we live as if God doesn’t exist or use our religions to justify violence, either way the Devil wins!

As Lewis noted, we need to stay away from the two extremes – one in which we focus all our attention on finding the demons under the rocks and on the other hand living as if evil is not even present. The truth is, evil is present and it does on too many occasions find its way into the life of the church. Thus, even if one doesn’t find every posting to be of relevance or in accord with one’s own perspectives, most readers will find much of value in these relatively brief postings.

The author has taken great pains to root these postings in a cogent and coherent theological foundation, and as for the Devil, whether or not you believe in a spiritual-physical being known as Satan (the Devil), I believe that you will find this to be a worthwhile read. That issue is rather beside the point, because in this particular book, the Devil serves as a personification of the kinds of evil that we face in our daily lives. In fact, by focusing on the “physicality” of the Devil, would likely lead us astray and keep us from hearing a word directed to ourselves. Thus, if you choose to read this book, you will experience something that is entertaining and innovative, while be exceedingly serious as well. If Lewis provided the church with a classic text in the 1940s, perhaps this will be a new classic for decades to come.

Article first published as Review: Devil's Ink: Blog from the Basement Office by Jeffrey C. Pugh. on Blogcritics.

What's the Least I Can Believe and Still Be a Christian -- Review

“WHAT’S THE LEAST I CAN BELIEVE AND STILL BE A CHRISTIAN?” A Guide to What Matters Most. By Martin Thielen. Louisville: WJK Press, 2011. X + 157 pp.

I’m an ordained minister in a non-creedal denomination that has from its origins embraced the principles espoused in Rupert Meldinius’ motto – “In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, and in all things liberty.” It is also a tradition whose founders embraced the principles John Locke espoused in his books The Reasonableness of Christianity and A Letter Concerning Toleration, wherein he suggested that the church should not make any terms of communion beyond those that “the Holy Spirit has in the holy Scriptures declared in express words to be necessary to salvation” (Locke, Toleration, Prometheus Books, p. 24). Coming as I do from a tradition that has embraced what some might call a simple faith, one that leaves significant room for opinion in matters of faith; I didn’t find the title of Martin Thielen’s book odd or off-putting. In fact, it resonates quite well with my sensibilities, though I have to admit that I’ve heard some in my tradition who have claimed that one can be a member of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and pretty much believe whatever you want. Although that assessment is too minimalist even for Disciples, I expect that a United Methodist pastor would have a more expansive set of necessary doctrines than would a Disciple, and a perusal of this book would bear out this expectation.

The title of the book does leave one with the sense that the author might be espousing a rather minimalist faith, but that would be a misreading of the book. The author is a United Methodist pastor who left the Southern Baptists after the fundamentalist takeover of the Southern Baptist Convention. That decision was brought on by the feeling that he no longer fit within the church in which he had grown up, been educated, and had served as a pastor, educator, and publisher. Ultimately he would find himself serving as pastor of First United Methodist Church of Lebanon, Tennessee.

In a book that is written for a lay/general audience, and that would be very useful for an adult education program (an online leader’s guide is available from the publisher), the author offers what this reviewer would consider a broad, middling, moderate understanding of the Christian faith. Although the book might seem liberal to some, it will seem rather conservative to others, and yet it lifts up for discussion issues that tend to divide and confuse contemporary Christians.

The book is broken into two parts, the first of which lifts up ten issues that “Christians don’t need to believe,” while the second part focuses on eleven items that he believes Christians should believe – what he would consider essentials. At the end of each chapter Thielen places a brief summary statement – what he calls the “bottom line.” So, for instance in the chapter in which he deals with women in the church, his bottom line is: “Women are fully equal with men in marriage, in church, and in society” (p. 23).

The first section of the book focuses on ten “don’ts,” which aren’t merely non-essentials. Instead, for the most part these are perspectives that one would best reject, either because the misrepresent God or they reflect an anti-intellectual perspective that is best left behind by modern Christians. These topics include the suggestion that God causes things like cancer, car wrecks, and catastrophes, as well as the suggestion that real Christians won’t have doubts about their faith, believe in evolution, or think that women can’t be preachers. In a brief opening paragraph to this section, Thielen takes us back to the old gospel song that declared “Gimme That Old-Time Religion.” He suggests that while much of that old time religion might be good or noble, it could also be downright dangerous to the body, to the mind, and to the Spirit. Not only did it give us the Crusades, the Inquisition and religious wars, it also oppressed women, supported slavery, and suppressed science. There are, therefore, aspects of the old form of our religion that we’d be better off casting aside.

The second part of the book focuses on eleven things the author thinks you do need to believe – what he considers essentials or the “least I can believe and still be a Christian.” These are the areas of the faith that he believes matter most. Being that this is written for Christians it should not be surprising that the focus is on Jesus, beginning with what some call the “good confession” (Matthew 16:16), and deals as well with issues such as grace, the presence of God, Jesus’ example, his death and resurrection, the church, the Holy Spirit, and God’s vision of the future. The final “essential” seeks to answer the question as to whether mainline Christians believe in salvation. He insists they do, but he wants to clarify what that means.

This is a good little book that should be of value to many in the church. It might be used as an introduction to the Christian faith for those exploring the faith or who have questions about the Christian faith. It could also provide a foundation to needed conversations about what is important and not important to the life of the church. Although the book is written with Mainline Protestants in mind, at times I felt like Thielen was trying to convince the more conservative elements of his Baptist past of a better way forward. That may explain the moderate and even evangelical tone of the book. This tone is especially present in the final chapter of the book, which seeks to answer the question: “Do Mainline Christians believe in getting saved?” Now the answer to this question is framed in a more progressive fashion – it depends on what you think we’re being saved from or for, but the mere phrasing of the question in this way seems to address concerns among a more conservative audience. This isn’t meant as a criticism; it’s just meant to demonstrate the perspective that’s evidenced in the book.

Ultimately what we have here is a gentle, moderate, Christocentric faith, one that represents the perspective of a large portion of Mainline Protestantism. Thus, the author supports women in ministry, a commitment to social justice, an intellectually engaged faith that embraces evolution, while taking a more middle of the road approach to homosexuality. On this issue he points out that this is an area upon which not all mainliners agree, but suggests that the best description of the current climate is “welcoming but not affirming.” In that chapter, the author doesn’t take a strong position, but you get the sense that he falls into the majority view (though being open to conversation).

While this isn’t a perfect book, and really doesn’t break new ground, I sense that it will prove to be useful to the church.  This is true in large part because Thielen reminds us that we should focus on those things that matter most, rather than focusing on the tangentials that tend to divide and rarely edify.

Tom Oord's "Defining Love" and "The Nature of Love" -- A Review

DEFINING LOVE: A Philosophical, Scientific, and Theological Engagement. By Thomas Jay Oord. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2010. Xiii +225 pages. THE NATURE OF LOVE: A Theology. St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2010. Xii +195 pages.

Christians talk a lot about love. We affirm that God is love. We say that God loves the world enough to send into the world his Son. We treasure the words of 1 Corinthians 13, with its suggestion that while faith and hope will abide, the greatest is love. We even sing, perhaps with an uneasy conscience, “They’ll Know We Are Christians by Our Love.” But, what do we mean when we talk about love? What is our definition? How do we know to discern whether someone is acting in love? In fact, where does love come from? All of these questions are raised and addressed in these two similar, but different, books authored by Nazarene theologian Thomas Jay Oord.

Tom Oord, who is Professor of Theology and Philosophy at Northwest Nazarene University and a Ph.D. graduate of Claremont Graduate University, has an agenda. He wants to move beyond simply putting love on the theological discussion table to placing love at the very center of theology. If God not only loves, but is love, then love should be “organizing principle” of theology. Unfortunately, in Oord’s mind, this has not happened. Too often it remains behind Oz’s curtain, but “only when placed at the center can the logic of love explicitly extend to all aspects of Christian theology” (Nature, p. 4).

Oord’s agenda, it would seem, requires too very different but related books. Defining Love is in many ways the foundational text. It provides the broader outlines for placing love at the center of theological reflection, but looking at love from philosophical and scientific angles as well as theological ones. In this challenging and at times dense book Oord lays out a new field of scholarship, what he calls the “love, science, and theology symbiosis” (Defining, p. 5). In this context Oord is advocating a program of “love research,” that has at its core the belief that it is possible for the world and individuals can get better. He wants to find ways in which we can discern the virtues and practices that will enable this to happen. In other words, love just doesn’t’ happen. It requires nurture and promotion and development. This requires research into the nature of love and how it is best expressed. With this in mind, Oord lays out his understandings of science and theology, trying to clearly define where they are different and where they relate to each other.

Essential to this program is to have a firm definition of love, one that can provide a foundation for research and theological reflection. The definition that he formulates provides the basis for discussion in both of these books. That basic definition reads as follows:

To love is to act intentionally, in sympathetic response to others (including God), to promote overall well-being (Defining, p. 15).

With this basic definition in mind, Oord proceeds to explore the diverse forms of love, for not all forms of love are alike, even if they have at their base the same purpose – “promotion of overall well-being.” Thus, he looks at agape, philia, and eros. While making use of theology here, he is more intent on exploring the input of philosophy to the discussion.

Moving from definitions, Oord brings to bear the “qualitative and quantitative” insights of the social sciences, including both psychology and sociology. Key to this discussion are concepts such as altruism and empathy, along with personality types and motives. He concludes that from examining research there is a clear move away from the idea that humans are by nature “inevitably and invariably egoistic” (Defining, p. 96). If the social sciences provide one vantage point, what about biology. Assuming that evolution is true, the question concerns how evolutionary development provides the conditions for love. Again the focus is on altruism, and whether there is evidence from the study of nature of self-sacrificial action. Although the explorations are still at their early stages, the key question, concerns the evidence that nonhuman creatures express love. This may still be speculative, but there is interesting evidence to pursue. Turning from biology to cosmology, with its discussions of the formation of the universe, including the principle of creatio ex nihilo, the issue here in part concerns the possibilities of divine engagement with the universe. This is a key question for we must wrestle with the way in which God might engage us. Does God have either the power or the will to change or affect in dramatic ways nature? Or does God work in a very different fashion? Here Oord, who can be considered part of the Open Theism movement, interacts with a variety of theological and biblical perspectives, including Process Theology, which he respects but doesn’t embrace completely. The point of the chapter isn’t to provide a final understanding but to lay out the parameters and possibilities for study. Finally, he reaches theology, where he expresses his hope for a partnership between the sciences and theology so that love can find its place at the center of theology.

If Defining Love has a scientific/philosophical focus, The Nature of Love focuses on theology itself. Of the two books, this is probably the easier read and may be for many the most appropriate place to start. Although no mention is made of Defining Love many of the ideas and foundations transfer from one book to the other (I’m not sure which book was written first, though from the reader's perspective Defining Love could be considered the foundational book).

In Nature of Love Oord begins with the same definition of love as in the first book, with a focus on intentionality and end result – promotion of well-being. Whereas in the first book his conversation partners are the sciences and philosophy, here they are theologians. He wrestles with Anders Nygren over agape, St. Augustine over eros, and Clark Pinnock over philia. He finds something of value in each of these theologians and their particular definitions and perspectives on love, but he also finds them to be deficient at important points. Of the three foci, I found the engagements with Nygren and Augustine the most pertinent. In both cases, Oord redefines in important ways how we understand love.

In regard to Nygren and Nygren’s claim that agape is the definitive form of Christian love, to the exclusion of other forms, Oord challenges the idea that we are simply conduits of a love that comes from God alone without any human engagement. In his view, agape should be understood as “in spite of love.” That is, agape is that form of love that intentionally seeks to promote the well-being of the other despite the fact that the other means us harm or evil. God is definitely involved, but that doesn’t mean that we have not part to play. With regard to eros, which Augustine saw as a deficient form of love, for Augustine believed that only God could truly love, and that the object of love has no value in and of itself. Oord defines eros as being “because of love,” by which God and we seek to promote overall well-being by affirming and promoting the value that is inherent in the other. This is, I believe an important step, for too often theology starts with the premise that we are some how “totally depraved” and thus having no inherent worth or value. If Oord is correct, then we must think differently, and that means that we act differently with regard to the other. Finally, he deals with philia, and in this regard looks to his late colleague Clark Pinnock with whom he has much in common, but with whom he has what might seem to be minor differences, but which have important implications. Philia is by definition the promotion of well-being by “coming alongside.” It is that friendship, community oriented form of love, which reminds us that we need each other. It speaks of cooperation with God and with one another. Where he differs from Pinnock is in Pinnock’s concern to protect God’s reputation.

In the final chapter of The Nature of Love, Oord offers his own theological program, which he calls “essential kenosis.” This program serves as the context in which love can be brought into the center. There are similarities to Process Theology, though through the use of the idea of kenosis (self-emptying), he hopes to distinguish from his own idea of a self-limiting God with that of an inherently limited divinity, but in this understanding self-limitation isn’t voluntary, it is essential to God’s nature. What he wants the reader to understand is that God’s love is a question of necessity. Whereas in other forms of kenosis theology, God need not love outside the Trinity, in his understanding God of necessity loves the Creation. Love is not contingent. It is part of God’s nature. External forces don’t limit God, but God’s nature does. Therefore, God cannot but love.

So the question is – what does it mean for God to love, and here it’s important that all three forms of love are brought into the equation. The kind of love that forms the center of theology – our understanding of God – must be “full-orbed.” We make a mistake when we think that we can settle on one form of love and define that as Christian or divine love. We must instead bring agape, eros, and philia into our definition. If this is true of God, then it is also true for us, who are called upon as God’s creation to imitate God by expressing this full-orbed love of God in our lives. I should add that in Oord’s understanding love means that God is not coercive in any way. Thus, even creation is not a coercive act, but requires the participation of the other for creation to occur. You can see the similarities to Process Theology. The borders the two are a bit fuzzy, but there is enough of a difference to keep these two as separate understandings of the nature and purpose of God.

I believe that Tom Oord is on to something important. I have found his definitions of love to be not only helpful but have provided a new orientation for understanding the unconditional nature of love, and the full-orbed nature of love. I believe his definitions are far superior to any others I’ve seen. Thus, as a pastor and a preacher, who believes that God not only loves, but is love, these definitions and the research that help sustain these definitions will help the church move forward into the future. It will assist us in moving away from self-centeredness to others-centeredness. It will help us reorient the way we do theology and understand God and God’s relationship to Creation.

Of the two books, The Nature of Love is the easiest to work with and may be the most helpful, but for those who wish to dig deeper into the project, then Defining Love is an important read. Both are well written, but neither of these books are quick reads. They require diligent engagement and reflection. That said, Tom Oord is on to something important that the church needs to hear.