|
|
|
Book of the MonthAgainst the Tide: love in a time of petty dreams and persisting enmities Reviewer: Carol O'Connor
Hope, reconciliation, forgiveness, the church, evil, redemption, giving, and politics are the focus of specific sections of this book. They are also shown to be central rudiments to a human being's experience of living in the world. However, for Volf, innermost to the vision of Against the Tide, and of life itself, is 'love.' He writes: "Everything I write stems from one simple conviction: 'God is love' (1 John 4:9).... That is what I strive for my theology to be all about. At its best, that is what Christian theology has been all about for centuries." It's very apt that the book has come out this year, particularly here in Melbourne where atheism has been the topic of discussion for some time. Contemporary atheists seem less concerned with the existence or not of God, or of the nature of God, but more preoccupied with the morality and actions of the Church. Fundamental and immature assertions abide as much in current atheist discussion, as in some parts of the Church. This work breaks through any fundamental image of God or Church one might have, as a Christian or atheist. At the same time there is a very clear rootedness in a God of love. One of the really engaging strengths of this work is that it breaks down your comfort zones. In Reflected Light Volf muses on a biography by Eta Lodi, a pseudonym used to protect the author. Lodi tells her story as an atheist divorcee who becomes the secret lover of a celibate priest. She decides to study theology and eventually writes the priest's sermons. Though she stays with the priest because she loves him, she comes to realise that he is "only interested in worldly power and wealth and in women and wine. A servant of people, he despises them as rabble that ought to be exploited rather than helped." On one level we see that it is the atheist divorcee who becomes intrinsically much closer to God, living the Christian spirit, than the hypocritical ordained priest. However, Volf takes us further than this. The woman has found her own faith through the priest. Though his life is corrupt, it is through him that she found love, and ultimately God: "Eta Lodi's story reminds us that the passing on of Christian faith is not primarily a matter of anything human beings do, not even primarily a matter of any holiness we exhibit. Instead, Christian faith is always a gift of God's life-changing presence." This story, and particularly the meaning that Volf finds in it, is as radical for Christians as it is for atheists. Miroslav Volf writes in a personal style. His language, his expression of thought and theological insights are clear and accessible, balanced and subtle. In many of these essays he seems to be thinking out loud. And in these reflections he is prepared to ask hard questions. Why does God, in the Biblical story, ask Abraham to sacrifice his only son? Volf, himself father of two sons, is confronted by it. In But I am Not Abraham he writes a dialogue with the imagined persona of his son as a 12-year-old, about this Biblical story. We follow his train of thought, from abhorrence of the act itself, to questioning Kant's ideas on the text, (who both thought he shouldn't kill the innocent son and queried whether the "you" appearing is indeed God), to an appreciation of Abraham's own implicit trust in God. For Volf, this story becomes a recognition that God is the most important; God is the giver, and without God there is no gift. Without God, there is no son. Again and again in these reflections Volf is able to go into a difficult thought, or story, or challenge and take us as readers through it in a personal and understandable way. He takes us beyond our own reactions and feelings concerning a certain circumstance and invites us to consider the situation from another angle. Sometimes it feels like it's from above, or even sideways. And always it is through the lense of compassion. Volf certainly takes us to some dark places. Having been invited to reflect on Jesus' 'second' last words on the cross, (where he forgives the criminal beside him with the words "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.") Volf shapes his thoughts into a letter to Timothy McVeigh, the 1995 Oklahoma City Bomber. At the time Volf is writing this piece, McVeigh was due for execution. Permission had just been given to the relatives of the deceased victims to attend the execution, in order to experience a "sense of closure" and that the "scales of justice be balanced." Volf expresses understanding of this desire on the part of the victims' families. However, he also reflects on the question: "What kind of paradise could be in which criminals live and flourish together with their victims?" Gently, confidently, Volf urges McVeigh "I hope that you will not remain defiant in your last hour," and bids him to say sorry. He asks McVeigh to help '"redeem" those who find it hard to live without seeing you die.' In saying sorry to the family of his victims Volf recognises that McVeigh will also redeem himself. Just as Martin Luther, the Protestant Reformer, believed that the hell Jesus descended to was the excruciating agony of the cross, then McVeigh can be lead through a hell into paradise. It effectively becomes a letter to both McVeigh and the victims' families to know the intrinsic value of saying sorry, of forgiving, for the whole of humanity. Movingly, Volf finishes this reflection with the words: "Timothy we have never met, and we are not likely to meet in this life. But I will look for you in paradise." One of the reasons Volf is able to write this letter is because he acknowledges that the darkness that is within McVeigh is within us all. In a discussion on economic and political sanctions being imposed on governments that 'egregiously violate the basic religious rights of Christians' he reminds us that not only is the struggle "against the evil of persecution" but also "the other struggle is against the evil in the soul of the one who struggles against the evil in the world." His words echo Jung: "It is a fact that cannot be denied: the wickedness of others becomes our own wickedness because it kindles something evil in our own hearts." The human task, for Volf, ultimately becomes one of living for something larger than ourselves, "our lives are meaningful to the extent that we turn away from ourselves and live for God and neighbour." Whether or not God exists, or questions about the moral state of the church, ultimately don't seem to be the real questions. The premise of his work is on love - getting beyond our petty preoccupations and divisive enmities, and seeking the love that Christians are called to exemplify. This book is a collection of brief essays, many previously published as columns in the American journal 'The Christian Century'. Miroslav Volf grew up in Croatia and is currently Henry B Wright Professor of Theology at Yale University Divinity School. His book is available from the St. Peter's Bookroom at $23.95.
Located at St Peter's Eastern Hill,
Melbourne, Australia |
