"Creation Will Be At Peace"--a Sermon

Last week, I threw together, at the very last minute, a sermon to preach at my dad's church. I am not a preacher, and I've only preached about 3-4 sermons in my life, but they were all class requirements. Anyway, my dad knew I had just taken a preaching class, and so he asked me earlier in the week if I wanted to preach when I got home, and I was really interested in doing it because it was to be a sermon concerning the Christmas message of the angels and the lighting of the angel candle, in celebration of Advent.

You see, I've been really stirred by the idea that we are in community with angels at any moment of any day. A very bizarre thought that nobody ever preaches about, but something that appears to be true nonetheless. I wanted to write a sermon that touched on that somehow. I also wanted to touch on the idea that the message of Peace that the angels brought was both an allusion to the peace of Eden, and a foreshadowing of the eternal peace to come at the second Christmas when Christ comes again to make a new heavens and a new earth. But alas, time ran out, and we had to pack up and leave for Arkansas before I could really figure out how to tie it all together into a sermon.

I'm not sure I ever did figure out how to tie it together well, but this is what I threw together in about three hours the night before I preached it (along with a little polishing up). It basically breaks every single rule I was supposed to have learned in my preaching class...but ah well. So if there is anyone out there who would like to randomly read my first Christmas sermon (heck, my first sermon I've ever written that was not for a class) enjoy!

And before I forget... Merry Christmas!

“Creation Will Be At Peace”

Luke 2:8-20:
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ[a] the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

I want to tell you a story. It is, in a way, the same kind of story that you see in almost every movie you go to. It is “the” story really—the story of which all other stories are really only copies. Have you ever noticed that many movies you go to work kind of like this:

Act I: As the movie begins, life is generally good. Everyone is pretty happy. You watch the characters as they laugh together. You watch the father scooping the little girl off the ground and raising her into the air, and then looking wistfully over at his wife with a cheesy smile on his face because he loves it. Ah… life is good. But then… huh oh… then something bad happens like…say…the wife and the cute little girl are kidnapped. Well, this ushers in Act II, and this takes up most of the movie. In Act II, the father sets out with all of his wit and macho-ness to save his wife and daughter from these bad men who have captured them. The hero-father goes through several trials and tests, almost dies several times, but always comes out alive. A lot of times, it is right when things look the worst for the hero that he begins his victory over the bad guys. Perhaps it is only a hair’s breadth separating him from his fate as he is knocked hard to the ground by the enemy…but wait! Then something happens… like say, he remembers his little girl’s laugh, his wife’s warm embrace, and these thoughts give him the energy he needs to get up off the ground and really take charge. He beats his enemy this time, and comes out alive. Act III. In this final thirty minutes or so of the movie, the father takes charge, beats all the bad guys once and for all (well…unless, of course, there’s a sequel where he does it all again), and he saves his family from the bad guys. And in the last scene, like the first scene, there are lots of giddy laughter and cheesy smiles as we see the family back to “life as normal”…but not quite the same as before because they have grown closer in a way, and a bit wiser.

This is, essentially, the story. Now we often don’t think about this, but it is also the story of God and man. Just as life began in Act I of the movie with everyone happy… so also our life began, in the Garden of Eden. What if we could catch a scene in a movie of Adam and Eve’s life? What if…? I can just see Adam and Eve in that glorious garden. Adam is in the back yard…maybe he just finished building a shed to put his new riding lawnmower in…who knows? Eve is in the kitchen with her 1950’s cooking apron on, maybe she’s baking some cookies for Adam… maybe she’s making some fruit salad… who knows? Well, Adam comes inside, wipes the sweat off of his forehead as he lets out a sigh of relief. “Ahhh… air conditioning.” Hmm… there’s a problem here… I don’t mind giving Adam a riding lawnmower and air-conditioning, but we can’t have kids yet, because they don’t have kids until they get kicked out of the Garden, right? Ok, so instead of kids…of course! They have animals! Ok, so Adam walks in the back door, and their little malti-poo (that is, of course, a maltese-poodle mix—Kara and I have a little malti-poo named Libby, and she’s really cute…)… so their little malti-poo comes running into the kitchen, and goes absolutely crazy with glee, jumping all over Adam and barking anxiously until Adam picks her up. And so, Adam picks up the little white furball of a dog, snuggles it close, and looks wistfully over at Eve with a cheesy smile, and she give him a cheesy smile back. Adam reaches over to the freshly baked batch of cookies, but Eve slaps his hand saying, “No! Don’t you remember, we are having God over to dinner dear… you can have as many as you want once he gets here, because, well… you know, he’s God and he just works like that.” Ah yes, life was good.

Ah, but wait… you see, life doesn’t stay good. You know the story, you know what ushers in Act II… God said to Adam and Eve, “Of all the grocery stores in Arkansas, you can buy as much fruit as you want—on my credit card even. But there is one store I ask you not to shop at, for if you shop at this store—the store down on 1st street with the picture of a pig, yeah that one—you will surely die. But what do Adam and Eve do? Some lawyer (you know… snake…) came along persuaded them that they should go ahead and shop at the Piggly Wiggly, and because of this, they are kicked out of the Garden of Eden.

Now the point of this familiar narrative God gives us in Genesis 1 is not the specifics such as, “What kind of fruit did they eat?” I don’t even think that the fruit was the really point. The point is that Adam and Eve disobeyed God. And you see, when you disobey someone, fellowship is damaged with that person, peace is broken, and thus fellowship and peace was damaged between God and Man when Adam and Eve fell. You see life went from “good” to “hard.” Very hard. All the sudden pain and suffering and death are introduced into the story. Tears fall to the ground. Blood spills onto the earth. People get angry at each other, and fight, and kill, and lie. Hearts and promises are broken. Life is hard.

This is Act II. However, there is another difference between THE story and the hypothetical movie I mentioned earlier. You see in THE story, God’s story, it is not Adam who goes out to defeat the wicked lawyer who tricked them into shopping at Piggly Wiggly… it is God Himself. God is the Father who is trying to save his loved ones from the death that was brought about by the enemy—which is Sin, disobedience, broken fellowship. All through Act II, which lasts pretty much through the rest of the Old Testament, God is trying to restore this community he once had between Himself and Humanity. The Laws given in the Old Testament were a way to help restore this community so that the presence of God could dwell among the people of Israel again. But this is still an imperfect community between God and Man. In fact, because humans are just so stupid and can’t get it right, God’s presence leaves the temple forever, and eventually the people of Israel are sent into captivity. That is where the song “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” comes from—captive Israel, waiting, longing to be freed from their captivity by the Messiah, longing also for that restored community with God, a community of peace and wholeness.

You see, community was, essentially, Act I in the Garden. The Garden of Eden was this perfect community between God and Man, between Man and Man, and between Man and the Creation God placed Man in charge over. Community. But this community was broken because of Sin, and everything God has been doing since then has been to try to restore this perfect community, trying to bring the story on to the conclusion of Act III when life will be good again.

Well, Act III began 2000 years ago in the city of Bethlehem. You see, in Bethlehem, God Himself came to His loved ones from disaster, which is an astounding news considering that, for the thousands of years during Act II, God had been trying to redeem mankind to Himself more or less from a distance, sending prophets and angels to carry his proclamations to the people… Angels—yes. That is the advent candle we lit today: the angel candle.

At this point we have to interrupt the story and ask ourselves, “What is an angel?” Well, the word, “angel” literally means “messenger.” Now, we’re talking about God re-establishing community here, so I’m going to do something crazy here that I think might just help us sink into an idea of community with the people who have come before us: the Hebrews. This is the word the Hebrews would often use when they spoke of angels: “mahlaka.” Hear that as the Hebrews, thousands of years ago, would hear that, and try to feel the community between you and them: “mahlaka.” When Rome dominated the world in the first century, the Roman world spoke Greek. They would read these Gospels and letters of the New Testament we have in the churches. And when they would read anything about angels, they would use this word: “angellos”. Again, try to hear that as if you were a first century Christian, sitting on the dusty floor in a crowded room: “angellos.” “Angel.” “Messenger.”

Many people think that an “angel” is more of an office, a kind of position, than it is a type of spiritual being. I think this is probably true, because if we look at all the different times “angels” are seen in the Bible, there are various reactions. Sometimes angels just look like anyone else. The author of Hebrews even says that many people have entertained angels without even realizing it. But then on the other hand, you get these completely different reactions, such as we get from these Shepherds in the Christmas story who are scared to death when they see the angels. So some angels seem to be scary looking…others not so much…This could mean any number of things such as that angels can assume different appearances, or that it is an office for different kinds of spiritual creatures (such as Seraphim and Cherubim). They could be scared at the startling way in which they appeared all of the sudden… or heck, it could be that some angels are just ugly…like Jay Leno. Who knows? We do understand that demons are fallen angels, so this could further support the idea that “angel” is a kind of office.

Whatever the case…we just don’t really know all that much about angels, but we do know that they know a lot about us. We do not realize this on a day to day basis, but we are being observed, you see, not just by God…but by a whole host of spiritual creatures. I know this sounds like a science fiction movie, but it’s really not. If we believe what the bible and Christian tradition has to say about it, Angels do watch us, and care for us deeply because God cares for us. In a really confusing passage in 1 Corinthians where Paul talks about wearing coverings on heads, one of the reasons he gives is “because of the angels.” People think that this is implying that angels watch us as we worship, and they are exhorted and disturbed even as we do what we do in church and in worship of God. Whatever “angels” or “heavenly beings” are, we are, somehow, in community with them, right now… even though we don’t realize it.

Now you’ve heard all of your life that there are such a thing as angels, but it’s not something that seems truly real, is it? But I imagine that the shepherds heard similar stories of angels, maybe even believed them, but nothing could have prepared them for what they saw. They were scared to death as the angels appeared and they heard them say:

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

I can just imagine those words, “Peace on whom his favor rests” echoing in their minds. Peace. No more hardship. No more suffering, pain, loneliness. Peace. The good life. Eden. This was a proclamation of Eden—the perfect life of perfect community. And where did the angels say they would find this savior who will bring peace? “lying in a manger.” A manger! Of all the places in the world, the son of God, the messiah, the one who was to bring peace back into the world, bring Eden back to the earth… was born in a cow’s feeding trough? And yet, I wonder if, as God was writing out the story, this movie starring his only begotten son, he added this whole “manger” and “sleeping in a stable” thing, surrounded by all the animals, as a nod to Eden. Could it be Eden? Paul calls Christ “the Second Adam,” and here this second Adam sleeps in a cow’s dinner. Is that just coincidence? I wonder…

Peace on earth. When the Jews would hear the word, “Shalom” or “Peace,” they understood it as a kind of “wholeness” or “complete-ness”. “On Earth, wholeness…” It is a picture of mankind being whole, complete, being just as God planned for us to be, kind of like before we messed it all up, breaking fellowship and peace with our sin. But this is Act III—and thank God for Act III! This is where peace and wholeness begins to happen again as the enemy begins to get defeated little by little.

Do we see absolute peace on earth in our lives today? No. But we do a little. And we have the Gospel that Christ brought to us that gives us a new life of hope, hope of eternal life in perfect community with God, and this is a hope that can make even the darkest hour on earth just a little brighter, an “eternal weight of Glory,” as Paul says. A glorious peace.

“Peace on earth.” It began with Christ, so it is happening right now already, but it is not yet fully completed. That will happen on the second Christmas when Christ comes not as a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, but as a mighty warrior. Ultimate peace happens in the life to come. Peace. Wholeness. It’s already here, but not fully, but that is okay because we have hope. But humanity cannot horde this peace to ourselves. As it fills us, we let it overflow into the rest of Creation! And this is essentially the picture that we see in Isaiah 11. Many people interpret this simply as allegory, symbolic of the peace to come. But I think there is reason to believe that there is good reason to believe that there is more to it than symbol. I am not alone in thinking that this is more like a photograph of the messianic peace that is to come. Please, look at this picture of peace the prophet Isaiah gives us:

“The wolf will live with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling [a] together;
and a little child will lead them.

The cow will feed with the bear,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.

The infant will play near the hole of the cobra,
and the young child put his hand into the viper's nest.

They will neither harm nor destroy
on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD
as the waters cover the sea.”

You see, just as God created the heavens and the earth and filled it with all kinds of life—both in the heavens and the earth—he is working to bring that full life of peace to all of his creation, not just to mankind. I’m convinced that the end of God’s story in Act III will look much like His story began in Act I, much like this picture Isaiah gives—a “new heavens and a new earth” when not just man, but all of Creation will be at peace.

But that peace comes to us, little by little, even now, and it can fill us. Peace, yes, as it overflows from all “on whom his favor rests” to the angels who watch over what is happening in this wondrous story that their God, our God, is writing. Joy to them, I’m sure, as they got to play a part in it, “messengers” bearing God’s glorious message to the shepherds. And peace, also, to the animals who so graciously shared their beds with Mary and Joseph and the little baby Jesus that night. Peace to them, as they slept side by side with the people, feeling the warmth and the joy that came from the new parents.

This Christmas message the angels bring to the shepherds is an allusion, a reminder of the peace in the Garden of Eden, and it is a foreshadowing reminder of the peace that is to come once and for all when Christ comes again and we enter into eternal, perfect Fellowship and community with him and his Creation once again on that blessed second Christmas.

Now imagine, if you will, that hope of life that we have for a second. Imagine all the pains and worries of this world as they pale in comparison to the glory that awaits us. Imagine the peace you feel as you watch these daily sufferings you experience fade away like a mist fades in the penetrating rays of the sun, a mist that you have forgotten was even there by the time you eat lunch. Imagine that peace, and imagine it forever. Let this hope fill you as much as you can stand with peace and joy and hope as we remember the message of these angels this Christmas. Peace. And don’t horde that peace.

Imagine that peace overflowing from you into the angels that are watching you, even when you are alone. Say that something goes terribly wrong, and you are alone, and about to get really frustrated. Think of this Peace proclaimed by the angels on that first Christmas, the Peace of eternal life, and watch that frustration melt away, and imagine that peace and joy overflow into the angels that are watching you, perhaps even those very same angels that came to the shepherds.

As you experience that peace yourself, imagine that peace overflowing from you even the animals that you’re around. Perhaps you have a dog or a cat in your house. Imagine the kind of community Adam and Eve had with the animals, and recognize that this is the kind of community that God wants to restore you to. I know this sounds crazy, but nevertheless, let that community happen between you and your pet, or you and the squirrel climbing up the tree. Be Adam and Eve and bless the life around you, all life. Be creative with it!

Let joy and hope overflow from you in your relationships with people. Imagine the true insignificance of those little annoying things that happen around people—A waiter gets your order wrong, or you have to stand in line for an hour, or someone hides the remote control somewhere and you can’t find it—imagine as all these annoying things fade completely away in eternity. Instead, focus on the thing that will last even into eternity: Love. Let that perfect community that is to come once again start to happen in your relationships with people.

But finally, and most importantly, Give thanks and glory to God. This is part of your community with God, a communication of Thanks and Praise to Him. Follow the excellent example of the angels and say, “Glory to God!” Let His peace and His joy flow more and more into you as you give Him glory for what he has done in this wonderful, unimaginable blessing of a thing we call Christmas.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

Eloquent Preaching: Good Thing or Bad Thing? (C&P)

So... apparently I am sinking into a pattern here. Most of my contemplative writing seems to be done in response to other people's blogs. I suppose it is because I feel more of an impetus, an urgency about writing it because it is done in the context of a specific situation with a specific person. Well, I hate to leave all of that stuff just out there in various places, so I think I'm going to try, when I can and when it is appropriate, to just copy and paste my responses. Here is one such thing "C&P," and it was written in response to this blog.

As I understand it, your argument is essentially: Paul is an example telling us that the Gospel Myth should not be eloquently decorated with rhetoric. Am I on target? Now I would agree with this statement: It is not necessary for the Gospel Myth to be eloquently wrapped to be effective. However, I am not sure I can agree with the former statement.

The question, I think, lies in whether or not Paul's example is to be the rule to which everyone else in every situation should follow. I'm not entirely convinced this is the case with this particular issue, though it is somewhat convincing because Paul points to his weakness as a seal of apostolic authenticity. Suppose, however, that it was simply not Paul's gift to speak extemporaneously (I can identify!). Suppose he was much better with rhetoric in his writing than his oratory skills.

I think a quite compelling case can be made for this. This seemed to be the overall impression that several people had of Paul, and Paul had of himself, based on 2 Corinthians 10. Also, consider what is (to my knowledge) his only real attempt at oral rhetoric when he spoke to the Athenians of the "unknown god" met very little success. Furthermore, I think that a compelling case could be made that the elusive "thorn in the flesh" may be referring to his lack oral eloquence. He does seem to make a connection between the thorn and his weakness, and then his weakness with his unimpressive nature in person. Lastly, Paul's letters are quite often rhetorically eloquent, even utilizing poetry and metaphor.

Then on the flipside, we seem to have another Christian, Apollos, who is traditionally understood to have impressive and persuasive oratory skills, although we have nothing ostensibly written by him (though its contended by some that the very-eloquent Hebrews is authored by him). Considering these things, a quite compelling case, I think, can be made that God uses and blesses eloquently packaged preaching as well as more simplistic preaching.

Lewis seems to make a similar conclusion regarding eloquence and myth in Experiment in Criticism in his chapter on Myth. He does say that it is not necessary for Myth to be packaged eloquently for it to serve its purpose, but he also points out that it often has been expressed eloquently (pointing to Virgil as an example). Here, he seems to be impartial to whether Myth is decorated or no. However, Lewis does believe in the intrinsic goodness of well-crafted form, and says that it is important to note not just the content (the logos) of a piece of art but also recognize it as poeima (something made). And although he is not speaking directly about homiletics, he does ironically end the chapter VIII by pointing favorably to the examples of eloquent sermons that even botch exegesis of the text. "…what he expounds of his author's philosophy may be well worth reading, even if it is in reality his own. We may compare him to the long succession of divines who have based edifying and eloquent sermons on some straining of their texts. The sermon, though bad exegesis, was often good homiletics in its own right." (87) Thus, we can infer that while Lewis would say well-crafted poeima is not necessary to homiletics (any more than it would be necessary in a recipe book), it does not detract from it, but is rather a good thing.

Thus for this and other reasons, I would conclude that if it is a persons gift (e.g. Apollos), that gift should not be buried but exercised, and God will bless it. If eloquence is not your gift, no problem—the Gospel Myth will work even in spite of clumsy words because of the message that is being preached. Eloquence should never be an excuse for bad exegesis, but there is something inherently good in it, something that perhaps reaches into the concept of Sehnsucht which shoots people with a pang of longing for Christ. This combination of Sehnsucht and good theology might greatly contribute to the process of theological application because it not only points people to a particular truth, but it gives them the Sehnsucht, the Desire to carry that truth out in their lives, pointing themselves Heavenward: "Further up, and further in!"

The Gospels: Literality, Reliability, and Myth

Ok... so this was written in response to a blog. I thought I would recycle it in my blog, because it holds many kernals of thoughts I'm trying to work through right now concerning the scriptures and understanding what, perhaps, we can learn from Art and Myth when thinking about the scriptures. And know this, that I don't pretend to have answers here, these are just things I'm trying to think through and seek the truth about. I post these things here on my blog so that other people can help me think through these things--so I really appreciate your comments. So... here goes:

New Testament Book Copies and Original Manuscripts

Regarding point #2 "Several hundred years separate the original from the earliest Gospel manuscript we have", this is, to my knowledge, a factual error. There have been discovered several manuscript excerpts from various books of the New Testament that have been discovered and dated within 200 years of their assumed date of authorship, the earliest of which is the John Rylands Fragment (John 18:31-33,37-38) dated 125 A.D. (within a century of the death of Jesus). When compared to discovered copies other ancient writings, the narrow span of 100 years between archetype and ectype is staggering. In Plato (427-347 B.C), the span is 1200 years. Ceasar (100-44 B.C.)? 1000 years. Homer's Illiad (100-44 B.C.) does a little better at 500 years. (For a more detailed comparison see this page on carm.org).

Thus, rather than the span from original to copy being a discouraging thing to faith in the reliability of the Gospels containing the accurate words of Christ, I find it rather encouraging for the authenticity of the New Testament manuscripts. Indeed, there are differences among manuscripts, especially in the NT, however the Old Testament manuscripts have an extremely surprising uniformity. But even in the NT, the vast, vast majority of discrepancies are theologically impotent.

But still, you pose good questions that demand examination.

"Does absolute, infallible transmission of manuscripts really matter?"

I think not. First of all, as you point out rightly, we are in trouble if it is vital to faith because there are, unarguably, discrepancies between manuscripts. But second of all, I think that the imperfection of the scriptures really fits quite well when considering Christianity from a theological perspective.

If we did have all of the original manuscripts of all the books of the Bible, held perfectly in tact with every "jot and tittle," we would be in grave danger of idolatry. It would be even more of a heinous situation if Jesus himself wrote a book preserved in such a way. It would be such a thing, I imagine, that wars would literally be fought over in order to possess. The focus would be so transfixed on this tangible relic of Christ and Christianity that the true nature and purpose of Christianity--community of love and faith--would be overshadowed. The incongruence of the scriptures, then, ideally spurs the Christian to embrace the other important aspects of Christianity such as the community of faith (the Church) and the Holy Spirit.

Jesus: the bridge between Jew and Pagan

I am very heavily affected theologically by C.S. Lewis and his Oxford friends (a.k.a. "The Inklings"--Tolkien, Barfield, Williams, etc.), and so I'm certain what follows will be very biased by that fact.

Consider that Christ is the one who unified Jew and Greek. The religion of the Jews was one of letters, tightly sewn to what had been written in the Law, the Torah and the Prophets. It was a very moralistic religion, a religion primarily consisting of regulations that were to be followed. Although the Jews were certainly not without their stories, the "real" importance (especially around the first century) was on "keeping the Law." Things were very "crystal", clear-cut, and definite.

But then there were the Pagans (i.e., essentially, the non-Jew). Most other religions at that place and time (to my knowledge) placed the emphasis much more heavily on stories--e.g., the Egyptian, Greek, and Roman god-myths. Not that these religions were without their own "rules" (indeed, sacrifice was a major element), but there was not the same kind of extreme emphasis placed on a "God-given, written Law" that was written and studied and followed to the letter.

Enter Jesus--the "Word become Flesh". Rather than writing more rules to be followed, he spoke of morality in parables, stories, thinking it best to that others to pass his words along rather than writing them down himself (a much less "definite" way of doing things). The words of Jesus, these parables (connected to the word "Parabola"), were more ambiguous, slippery, not the kind of crystal, clear-cut laws the Jews received in the Torah. So in this respect, it seems as though he has one foot in the Pagan world (ambiguity), and one in the Jewish world (morality), thus bringing them together.

Yet, Jesus himself was not ambiguous--he was flesh, tangible, factual. Lewis referred to the life of Jesus as "Myth become Fact". Here we see in Jesus a tangible story, a literal consummation of what had been foreshadowed in all prior myths of dying and rising gods. So in this respect, Jesus again has his foot in both the Pagan world (story) and the Jewish world (literality).
The writings of the Christian NT then, having feet in both Pagan and Jewish worlds, would seem to logically have --in contrast to the great pains taken for accurate transmission in the OT--much less emphasis on "exactness" in the transmission. Not that accuracy isn't important, but it is not all-important to Christianity. You see, I think that if everything concerning the historicity of Jesus was absolutely crystal-clear and undebatable, where would the Myth go?

Myth and Fact

In common language, we use the words "Myth" and "Truth" as antonyms, completely unrelated to each other. But is this really the case? People such as Lewis and Tolkien beg to differ. First of all, Myth and Art (I use this term in the broad sense of the arts in general) reveals Truth about life. Just as the very best Art is tied to reality, so Myth is tied to reality. Myth helps us to understand reality with our imagination (which Lewis calls "the organ of meaning").

But also, there is something, they say, that happens in Myth as in the Arts such as story, poetry, etc.: Truth is experienced. There is a kind of "slipperiness" to Myth and much good art, and this "slipperiness" places it just beyond our reach, just outside of the kind of tangibility that breeds manipulation, and this seems to be integral to the experience of Truth. This, I think, is why it was so important for Jesus to ascend and the Holy Spirit to descend. Note that the Spirit is a very ambiguous kind of thing—unseen, almost chaotic. Both Greek and Hebrew words for "spirit" (Greek pneuma, and Hebrew ruach) both also mean "wind." The nature of wind is very "slippery." "The wind blows where it pleases." It is almost chaotic, refusing to be ordered. You cannot hold wind in your hands. It is tangible and yet, in a way, intangible. In The Pilgrim's Regress, Lewis talks about a "Dialectic of desire" that served for him as a kind of empirical, experiential, ontological proof of God's existence, and this dialectic was brought about by an experience he called—among various names—Sehnsucht (a German word for "the desire for something that is out of your reach"). His experience of truth was integral to its being out of his reach—and this the thing that spurred him from atheism to a belief in the transcendental Other (which he later realized was the God of Christianity). Buechner speaks of something very similar in Telling the Truth: Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairytale.

The sort of paradox we get in Christianity presented to us in the 21st century is that the Gospel is both historical and mythical, tangible and intangible. It is tangible in the sense that we do have some proof of its accuracy and reliability, but it is ultimately out of the reach of a kind of "scientific" fact that proves it absolutely, once and for all, without question. This paradox of tangible-intangibility helps us both to infer—based on the evidence we have—that it is true, as well as experience that truth through the slippery, mythical quality it has.

"Does [the fact that we don't have the exact words of Christ and his disciples] matter?"

Yes and no. It does matter that we can at least infer that the essence of what is recorded in the Gospels is historical. It does not matter that it is exact, because that unexactness, that slipperiness, is what gives it more of the quality of myth. Even the stories that we do not think were in the original manuscripts (such as the woman caught in adultery) are worthy of reading because it is essentially true to the Myth of Jesus.

"Does it bother you that we can never truly know what Jesus may have said and what was the creation of some later editor?"

No, because this adds to the mystery behind Christ which creates a sort of transcendental experience. It seems somewhat obvious that Christ did not intend for us to know his exact words. That is why he left it up to other people to pass it on. It is a more organic and, really, personal way to do it, really. It lets Man be partners with God in his work here on earth.

I guess this all presupposes that the scriptures were not written verbatim by God—whispering every single word to the NT writers as they penned their Gospels and books, but that is a WHOLE other discussion, and it is an ideal that, I think, most theologians do not hold today. I could be wrong.

I don't know… let me know your thoughts on this, and where I need to clarify what I'm thinking about.

Thanks!