Pastorblogg av Torkild Masvie: Lutherske grunner til å forlate en luthersk kirke

Pastorblogg av Torkild Masvie: Lutherske grunner til å forlate en luthersk kirke: Oppgjør med åtte myter Det er luthersk og redelig å forlate en kirke som forlater sine lutherske, bibelske røtter og melde overgang til en...

All Saints

I have been there before, but never been part of it in the same way. It was the ‘All Saint’s Mass’ in the old medieval stone church, Kviteseid  Game Kyrkje. This time I was in the choir and dressed in a white garb.

            We started outside in the dark evening, where the light rain had stopped. No stars and no moon, in the countryside far from any artificial lights, the evening is as dark as night. With candles in hand, we started the small procession from the outside, carefully stepping into the old church without stumbling in our garbs, singing the beatitudes and a refrain, pleading with the Lord to remember us, as the robber did, hanging next to Jesus on the cross. “Herre, kom oss i hug når du kjem i ditt rike.”

Kviteseid Gamle Kyrkje at night

            Soft candles were the only lights reflecting from the white washed walls. We could see our own breaths. The young man leading the procession held the cross high. He loves these moments of serious and ceremonial acts, and he takes part, as being one of the clergy. I could hear him sing; I could hear him join in the words of the liturgy, even if he was a little after the common crowd, or perhaps was not supposed to join this part – he has Down’s syndrome.

            The sermon reflected the text from Matthew 5, about us Christians – us ‘saints’ – being salt and light in this world. It connected us to saints of old, but mentioned the ordinary Christian among us, as well.

            I sat listening to the voice of the priest, a comforting sound. I listened to our brother with Down’s, as he would also read the creed, sing the Lord’s Prayer. He has a strong voice, and he is not bashful. And again, I was comforted and feeling so very at home.

            In our procession at the end, we sang “Laudate, omnes gentes, Laudate, Dominum”, as we proceeded into the black and windy night. The wind snuffed out our candles, but the singing carried on until all had passed through. It was All Saint’s Night, and we were left in the dark among old gravestones outside the old church. Indeed, we were in good company. And Lord Jesus, the Light of the World, was there among us.

Gamlekyrkja in daylight

Love and Impassibility

I am reading a theological paper, one which is up for submission to an Honour’s degree at George Whitfield College, and I find the entire paper interesting: it is dealing with the last words of Jesus on the Cross. In the discussion, there are aspects of the Trinitarian God and suffering.

            Towards the end, I picked up this segment:

“Love and Impassibility

Love cannot be impassible, so Moltmann says. The being that loves must suffer, for to love is to suffer. Human love necessitates human suffering. The passion of love is self-giving. So for God to be love is for God to love as humans love and thus suffer as humans suffer. The absolute immutable love of God the Father for God the Son and visa versa moves God to suffer and die on the cross. The goal of God's love is relationship with his creatures, but to love sinners is to invite suffering and death. Moltmann takes this line of argument. For him, suffering is love. In order to love you must suffer. In this scheme God cannot be transcendent in a Greek philosophical theological way. God must be more human. “But a man can suffer because he can love, even as a Narcissus, and he always suffers only to the degree that he loves. If he kills all love in himself, he no longer suffers. He becomes apathetic.”

There was the connection between love and suffering which struck me. It is true; in human love there is an aspect of sacrificial love, of bearing each other’s burdens, in giving without any expectation of being paid back. Love brings a deep joy of being able to give of oneself. Being a recipient of love, spurs the mutual reaction, and so it bounces dialectically from one to the other. It may seem trivial, but the expression 'love hurts' has some validity to it.

Kirkeordningen kan med fordel avvikles.

Avisen Dagen har et førstesideoppslag 26.10.15 om biskoper som møtes for ’å holde kirken sammen’.  Hva er viktig? Er kirkeorganisasjonen, strukturen viktig? Nei. Denne ordningen vi har hatt igjennom noen århundre har sett sitt endelikt – og det er de selvsamme biskoper skyld i, i alle fall de som fornekter Guds Ords autoritet for liv og lære. De fleste kirkebygg står mer enn halvtomme den ene timen i uka de er åpne for folk. Strategien har sett sine beste dager.

            Jeg stusser over hvorfor skal vi kunstig holde oppe en kirkestruktur med vantroende ledere og medlemmer som ikke møter opp?

            Biskopene og hele hierarkiet kan med fordel avvikles. For en del år tilbake tok jeg til orde for at gammel-bispene skulle avsettes til fordel for valgte ledere, når Kirkerådet skulle være øverste leder, og ikke staten. Som i de fleste regjeringsskifter, må den sittende regjering gå til fordel for den nye. Det var det lite interesse for på kirkefronten. Vi har fortsatt noen sanne troende biskoper, men når selv de vil ofre sannheten i snillismens navn, da gir jeg dem det samme spark bak som deres vantro kolleger har fått.  

            Kommunene eier kirkebyggene. Vi tenger ikke ha noen hierarkisk struktur for å fungere som en lokal kirke. Det behøver ikke være noe landsomfattende samkjøring. Det er greit å ha et kollegium, et fellesskap, for prestene. Det er greit å ha sikre lønninger. Men til hvilken pris? Det er på tide at enhver menighet tar seg av mer av finansene. Det er på høy tid at vi bidrar med tid, evner og midler. Vi har ansvar for vår lokale kirke – men ikke nødvendigvis for vasekopper i flagrende bispegevanter!

            Vel, på sett og vis har vi det, hvis de kan kalles kristne brødre. Vi er kalt til å be for hverandre. Jeg har best lyst til å gjøre som Jona – men Gud er nådig ( hmf!) og han elsker den som ikke er fortjent til det. Det kristne fellesskapet er i seg selv en struktur, med Kristus som overhode. Dette består, om den nåværende hierarkiske kirkeordning avvikles.

Ja, mener jeg virkelig dette? Jeg gjør det, men jeg er ikke helt enig med meg selv. Jeg er glad i de lokale kirkene våre. Jeg setter stor pris på gudstjenestene. Jeg er takknemlig for presente våre. Jeg gleder meg til å høre en av mine egne sønner i den tjenesten, en gang når han blir ferdig med studier. Jeg ser folkekirken som et flott sted å møte de som ikke er så sikker i troen, de som har kristenheten på avstand, de som ikke helt vet hva de skal tenke, men som ikke vil avvise det hele. Jeg ser så mye positivt – samtidig blir jeg skittlei all denne utmagringen av det kristne livsgrunnlaget. Uthult og fornedret blir budskapet om forsoning og fornyelse når det som skaper splid og elendighet ikke skal vedkjennes og tas på alvor.

            Jeg ønsker at vi kan være en sann kirke, en kristen kirke, og kan hende vil det først skje etter at den nåværende kirkeordning er avviklet!

Sometimes I ponder how we think

Sometimes I ponder how we think.

How do we jump to conclusions? How do we argue?

Logic: a tool in argumentation. Simple syllogisms may suggest the following:

P1: All ravens are black

P2: This bird is a raven.

(raven= black)(raven=bird)   ->all ravens are birds.

C1: This bird is black T

The conclusion is valid because it is covered in the all-statement; it is a deduction from the larger to the more specific.

P1 All ravens are black

P2: This bird is black

(raven=black) (bird=black)  -> all birds are black?

C2 This bird is a raven. F

We see the connection between them, but there is no causal effect. They do not lead to any new deduction. They are separate statements. C2 is false.

P1 All ravens are black

P2 All ravens are birds

C3: This raven is black T (All ravens are black birds)  (raven= black)(raven=bird)  

C4: All birds are black? F (All birds are not ravens) (raven=black) (bird=black)(?) 

C4 is false from two perspectives: it does not concur with reality; it does not follow, logically. C4 seeks to induct a general statement about all birds based on the example of one bird. The premises speak about the ravens in particular. There is no information about birds in general.

P1: All ravens are black (raven=black)

P2: Black is not a colour (colour ≠ black)

C5: Ravens are lacking colour/ have no colour/are colourless?

Is this last syllogism valid? What does it really say? Does it prove that colourless birds fly about; and how can we see anything colourless? Does the statement about ‘black’ indicate a ‘lack’? It may not be defined as a colour, but does that make the bird without any visibility? What is wrong with C5? Is it really based on the premises?

 

  

         Are we using arguments of these kinds?

A Reminder from Mother Teresa

Debate in Cambridge U

In St John’s College people gathered on a Wednesday night to attend a public debate on the theme of “Faith and Education: An Uneasy Partnership”. The panellists were representing various aspects of English public life, but all with a keen interest in discussing what needs should be met in the field of teaching about religions in English schools. There seemed to be a consensus that the present void needed to be filled.

St. John's College, Cambridge

            As I listened, I also noticed a consensus of an old Platonic philosophy which states that what is good for society is a higher goal than what is good for the individual or the smaller units, building blocks like the family unit. I could see the understanding for the family and parental rights in this matter, but I could not miss the call for a ‘national standard’, a basic core curriculum which should decide what anyone should know about religion.

            A question was initially raised: should the state decide what children should know about faith?

            One of the panellists, a well spoken, well meaning man, identified himself with the 51% of the British population which said they had no religious affiliation. He was an agnostic humanist by the way he addressed the issue of faith: with no personal conviction, and intending to be neutral, he suggested that children ought to be presented with a variety of religious beliefs. This, he thought, might give them the option of freely choosing their religion. In my mind I wondered if he realized his own values, his own unstated conviction that religion is a thing, something to pick at a smorgasbord, taste, to like or not like.

            I happen to be of the conviction that children benefit greatly from being brought up in a religious tradition, which gives them identity. It gives them something to struggle with, to come to grips with. It is much better than a void. It gives the young person a sense of direction, purpose, and meaning to know that he or she belongs to something greater than him or herself. I do not mean that they should simply carry on the traditions mindlessly, of course. You need to come to grips with whom you believe in on a personal level.

The panellists presented some questions to be debated rather than some options for solutions. What is the role of the state and what of the church, and what of the families, and…? According to one statistic, the percentage of people who identified with the Church of England was 16%. If the statistics are representative of reality, they question of which role this church organization should play in the religious education in state schools came into question. There is a growing Catholic population, which in some years may overtake the 16%. In addition there are a number of other evangelical churches, which were unspecified in percentage.

            All around us in Cambridge there are great, old stone churches with daily services, Evensong, preserving an ideology of Christianity. I suppose you may offer people food, reach out with a gift – but if they do not eat, or will not receive your gift, then they remain hungry and poor.

Rowan Williams

Since the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, was in the panel, there were some aggressive atheistic charges against the notion of God. Why should there even be an issue of teaching religion when there is no such thing as God? He responded with a firm belief that there IS a God; His conviction was just as valid and believable as the one who denied God’s existence. I thought to myself: You may deny the existence of a chair, but you still sit on it.

Rowan Williams also pointed out that the need for knowledge about faiths and religious beliefs are more important than ever in our present age.  I agree. I do hope the discussion will bring the issue to the forefront of the public debate. I hope many of the Christian churches will see the need for spreading the good news about Jesus Christ.

Does this make me unsympathetically selective?  Well, to some, perhaps it does. But remember: ‘Tolerance’ is not necessarily a Christian virtue; Love is.