in a foreign land

When I lived in Glasgow the hunt for children’s resources, or guarded optimism, or even (once) a rain storm would occasionally drive me through the glossy glass doors of Wesley Owen. This was usually a frustrating experience. They wouldn’t have what I wanted. They would try hard to sell me things I didn’t want. And everywhere, there was the burble of eager young Christians being nice to each other. I feel somewhat guilty about this, but I have to confess: I always found it oppressive. After 15 minutes of being bombarded with niceness, I had to flee — grabbing whatever books I hadn’t had time to realise I didn’t want.

But one day, it was quiet, and I lingered a bit longer. I stayed long enough to look at what I though was a lovely new display of filofaxes — better and brighter than any I’d seen. To match any mood, any set of vestments, any handbag. But on closer inspection, I found they were not filofaxes, but bibles — of a sort. Row after row of beautifully bound books called The Message — a bible paraphrase that has been wildly successful in some circles.

Another confession: I haven’t actually read The Message yet. I have meant to. So many people have found it a helpful tool, and so many people are buying it in place of more formal translations, that I suspect it would be worth asking why.

So I was totally caught off guard when I read a version of the 73rd psalm on Gadgetvicar’s blog today. Take a look at it. Then read the 73rd psalm in the NRSV.

What do you think?

Is the version in The Message helpful? Shocking? Inaccurate? Refreshing?

And those of you who know more about this than I do: can any one comment on how people actually use The Message? Is it a ‘starter bible’ — with the idea that the paraphrase is read alongside other translations later. Or is there a whole new generation of Christians out there who think of The Message as their bible in the same way that so many think that it’s King James or nothing? And if so, how will it shape the church?

victory?

I’m feeling sufficient guilt at abandoning atonement theory all week that it must be time to review it again. Christus Victor, today — playing chain reaction backwards (this is the model– in one of its forms — that Anselm didn’t much like).

The language of Christ as Victor is familiar from a lot of our Easter Hymns. So, for example:

At the Lamb’s high feast we sing,
Praise to our victorious King:
Who hath washed us in the tide
Flowing from his pierced side;
Praise we him whose love divine
Gives the guests his blood for wine,
Gives his body for the feast,
Love the Victim, Love the priest.

On the face of it, Christus Victor models of atonement are a bit more joyful and a bit more hopeful: we dwell on resurrection instead of crucifixion, new birth instead of death. But there’s a devil lurking in the corner, which we might need to exorcise…

Continue reading “victory?”

just why?

Saturday, it seemed like such a good idea to launch a set of pocket summaries of atonement theories to spark conversation and debate.  But today, I wonder…

Well, I’m committed now.   So here goes.

These blogs will come in no particular order, but I’ll with Anselm since it’s the background to the theory of Penal Substitution we were questioning yesterday.

Continue reading “just why?”