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DonateJuly 25, 2010 Commentary by Russell Pregeant |
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Hosea 1:2-10
Psalm 138
Genesis 18:20-32
Colossians 2:6-15
Luke 11:1-13
The alternate first reading, Genesis 18:20-32, is particularly amenable to preaching from a process perspective for two reasons. First, it is a clear example of the strain of biblical thought in which God is not immutable (as is claimed by traditional theology) but is in fact subject to change in some ways. Second, it presupposes an understanding of ethics that stands in tension with a simplistic theory of divine command—that is to say, an understanding that involves something akin to natural revelation.
With respect to the first point, Terence Fretheim notes that vv. 17-21—God’s words to the two emissaries he had send to Abraham in chapter 18, which Abraham overhears as he walks along with them—in effect represent “inner divine reflection about the situation in Sodom and Abraham’s relationship to it (cf. 1:26; 2:18).”1 The text thus images God from the very beginning as a being who is, not unlike the creatures in the world, in some sense in process. God is no computer programmed ahead of time to spit out mechanically-produced answers but must rather make decisions; and these decisions are based upon what is actually happening in the world. Thus, in v. 21, God decides to “go down and see” whether the received reports on the conditions in Sodom and Gomorrah are actually true. More importantly, the dialogue between God and Abraham in the ensuing verses images God as fully interactive with a human being, fully open to being influenced even to the point of reversing a previous intention. Abraham’s reluctance to challenge God, expressed in a spirit akin to fear and trembling, safeguards God’s sovereignty and apartness from the created order; but the fact that the interaction nevertheless takes place safeguards God’s relationality with equal force. The dialogue is to be taken seriously as a genuine process of decision-making (Fretheim calls it a “judicial inquiry”2): it is no mere testing of Abraham from the standpoint of a foregone conclusion. On the other hand, it does function as a way of preparing Abraham to fulfill his role, as defined in Genesis12:2-3, of founding a “great nation” that will become a blessing to all humankind. As Fretheim comments, “To be a blessing to all nations, Abraham must become involved in situations of injustice.”3
With respect to the second point, John Barton uses this passage as an example of a perspective in some strains of biblical thought according to which “a certain kind of ethical system is somehow build into the world or to the nature of things.” And of course the rather startling aspect of the passage is that it seems to identify an ethical standard that in some sense serves as a basis for evaluation that impinges not only upon humanity but upon God as well.4
This notion of course raises serious questions from the perspective of philosophical theology, but it is important to remember that the Bible is not a treatise of systematic thought. We can hardly accept the notions that God must “go down” in order to know what is happening on the earth, that God needs to be educated on morality by human beings, or that there is a source of moral law “beyond” God. What the text does image for us, however, is God’s interaction with the world and consequently God’s ability to be affected by that interaction. And process thought can help us understand that quality of God not as a defect but, in fact, as an aspect of God’s perfection. Immutability is one way of understanding perfection, but the ability to respond to any circumstance in the optimum is a very different—and, from a process perspective, a superior—way of understanding perfection.
The Lukan reading is a testimony to the efficacy of prayer. Vv. 5-9 and 11-13 employ the Greek and rabbinic mode of reasoning from the lesser to the greater in order to illustrate God’s willingness to answer prayer and desire to meet human needs. The implied premise, which serves as an encouragement to pray, is the goodness of God. But we misunderstand the point of vv. 5-8 (the midnight intruder) if we interpret them as drawing a positive analogy between the scene depicted and the interaction between God and someone who approaches God with petitionary prayer. Although the NRSV translates anaideia in v. 8 as “persistence,” its root meaning is “shamelessness,” and we should understand it in light of the Mediterranean values of honor and shame. It would be shameless, rather than commendable, to awaken a friend at midnight and then persist in making a request. And although the friend finally grants the request for three loaves of bread, the motive is not goodness or generosity but simply a desire to dismiss the person at the door and get back to bed. Thus, the analogy actually functions by contrast, as is the case also in vv. 11-13. The point in both instances is that if even very imperfect human beings will grant the wishes of another, how much more will God—who is indeed good—meet human needs. The final clause of v. 13, however, adds a provocative twist by shifting the issue from material gifts to spiritual matters. If even human beings give good (material) gifts to their children, how much more will God give the much more important gift of the Holy Spirit to God’s children when they make the request in prayer.
Intercessory prayer has always constituted something of a problem for progressive theology, since it is usually understood in supernaturalist-interventionist terms. From a process perspective, however, we can understand it differently. As Bruce Epperly comments,
In contrast to the modern vision of miracles that sees these intensifications of divine presence as violations of the law of nature, process-relational theology sees God as an essential component of every occasion, working with all things to bring forth the best possibility, be it incremental or dramatic in nature.5
As a component of all occasions of experience, God is responsive to whatever is happening in the world. Thus a human prayer, as an occasion of experience in which God is present, changes God’s experience and therefore affects how God is able to affect the world. As Paul Custudio Bube explains,
The process view of God is that God is supremely affected by all that occurs in the world and is perpetually active in the world as a persuasive, directive agency who aims at ever-increasing richness of experience for all actualities. This view lends itself to affirming that intercessory prayer affects God’s actions and events in the external world. Intercessory prayer is a type of self-constitution by an individual. This self-constitution becomes a direct influence upon God’s self-constitution, on the one hand, and both a direct influence in the self-constitution of all other individuals in the future, and an indirect influence upon those same individuals through their experience of God whose self-constitution includes the original influence.6
Fretheim notes that the interaction between Abraham and God is not couched in the language of prayer; it is much more a theological reflection than a representation of an act of worship.7 However, the image of God as responding to a human request could provide a point of contact between the Genesis and Lukan texts in a sermon dealing with intercessory prayer.
The epistle reading reveals some of the distinctive aspects of the letter to the Colossians that set it apart from the undisputed letters of Paul and mark it as the product of a later follower of the apostle. These aspects (in contrast to the household code in 3:18-4:1 that reasserts patriarchal values in contradiction to Paul’s relatively egalitarian views!) can be related to process thought in a positive way.
In v. 12, the author follows Paul in declaring that in baptism believers are buried with Christ; but when the second part of the verse states that “you were also raised with him through faith,” it departs somewhat from Paul’s more paradoxical eschatology. In 1 Corinthians, Paul is adamant in insisting that those who are in Christ live in an in-between time, in which the old and the new ages overlap. And this is the basis of his severe criticism of those in the community who act as if they were fully in the new age and were no longer subject to the moral requirements that remain in the face of the world’s evils. The author of Colossians, however, was confronted with a situation in which certain philosophical doctrines had permeated the community that called Christ’s supremacy into question by recommending the adoration of various cosmic powers. In response, the author reasserted Christ’s unique status as the one in whom “the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily” and is the “head of every ruler and authority.” (2:9) And, in keeping with this heightened christological doctrine, the author also stressed the fullness of the salvation experienced in Christ. Thus, whereas for Paul justification takes place in the present but salvation is always conceived as future, in Colossians we find it conceived as present.
There is a danger is this move, but the letter remains within Paul’s frame of thought to the extent that the author still finds it necessary to issue moral instructions. And if we keep this qualification in mind, it can be helpful to think of salvation as present. In process thought, all that we do in the present passes immediately into the life God and, from there, back into the world. There is thus an immediate realization of unity with God. We can experience God in the present, and each moment of our lives enters into eternity as part of the divine life. From some theological perspectives, all that ultimately matters is where a person comes out at the end of her or his life, since this determines where she or he will “go” after death. But for process thought, as for other progressive theological perspectives, this is a very inadequate way of understanding life, since it reduces the present life to a rehearsal and deprives the individual moments of our existence of their unique significance. To think of salvation as in some sense present, however, restores that significance by making every moment an “eternal now.”
1. Terence E. Fretheim, “The Book of Genesis: Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections,” The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol. 1 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), 467.
4. John Barton, Understanding Old Testament Ethics: Approaches and Explorations (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003), 35.
5. Bruce G. Epperly, “Process Theology and the Healing Adventure: Reflections on Spirituality and Medicine,” Handbook of Process Theology, edd. Jay McDaniel and Donna Bowman (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2006), 99.
Russell Pregeant is Professor of Religion and Philosophy and Chaplain, Emeritus, at Curry College in Milton, Massachusetts and Visiting Professor in New Testament at Andover Newton Theological School in Newton, Massachusetts. He resides in Contoocook, New Hampshire with his wife, Sammie Maxwell, who is pastor of the Contoocook United Methodist Church. As an ordained elder in the United Methodist Church, he has served as Associate Pastor at Rayne Memorial U.M.C. in New Orleans and as interim pastor in Carter Memorial U.M.C. in Needham, Massachusetts. He is the author of several books, including Knowing Truth, Doing Good: Engaging New Testament Ethics, Christology Beyond Dogma: Matthew's Christ and Process Hermeneutic, and Mystery without Magic, which is a basic introduction to process thought. He is a graduate of Vanderbilt University Ph.D., 1971), Yale Divinity School, (S.T.M., 1963), Perkins School of Theology, Southern Methodist University (B.D., 1962), and Southeastern Louisiana University (B.A., 1960).
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