Theological Commitments

This was a questions asked among some friends lately. What are our theological commitments? Mine is easily rooted in the Creed, but that is too easy.

Let me step back. By saying I am rooted in the Creed, I am saying I am tied to the ancient Church and the orthodoxy established by the Canons of the ecumenical creeds. I am then tied to a certain epistemology and a certain ecclesiology.

I am tied to a faith on God that relies more on an expectation that even if I do not understand, I yet believe. I yet believe things will be work out, even if it looks miserable at the moment and I just don’t know what to do. Why? Because the Church has been marked for death before, facing persecution, plague, war, and famine in every sense of the word. Yet, she continues to survive and is doing so in places where there is no hope for her to do so.

I am committed to the poor, to social justice of yesteryear, and to the idea that the Church does have a place to play in the political world, even if the political world only desires us to side with them rather than ensuring they themselves align with the Church.

I am committed to the Scriptures, but as the primary – not only – revelation of God. The Great Tradition and yes, even Science (or as Westminster puts it, Nature) is a revelatory source of God’s creation. They don’t disagree. They have friction from time to time, and in this tension can be beauty or evil. I hope to always remain in the beauty of the tension.

I struggle less with my only commitment to God. He has provided for me and my family in ways I cannot explain. I feel now that I should be willing to give more of myself. I don’t know what this looks like.

Anyway, I felt like it was once again time for a post like this.

Needing one another

I’m currently working on a book on attachment and how this … need… is not only what drives us, but is what makes us so very fragile that once it is disrupted, we begin to lose rapidly what makes us more than the animals, and less than the angels.

I am a constructionist in many ways, namely the way we form what appears to be the Self. I found this quote important. But more than one needing another, like an image needing a mirror to cause a reflection, how does this play into us needing the Divine?

Book Notice: Inside the Miracles of Jesus

Jessica LaGrone has a new book out.

Jesus demonstrated the presence and power of God by performing miracles. He turned water into wine, healed the sick, calmed the storm, opened blind eyes, and raised the dead. While these beloved stories draw our attention to divine power, Christ’s miracles signify something deeper—they’re windows into God’s grand story of human desperation and redemption. Every time we see Jesus performing a miracle, we also get a glimpse into the gift of desperation, a gift that opens us to the dramatic power of God through our desperate need for him.

By explaining the meaning and significance of these miracles, Jessica LaGrone shows us their relevance for our lives today. She unpacks how understanding the meaning of Christ’s miracles will help us better grasp the salvation God has brought into the world, see that our weakness is an invitation for God to work powerfully in our lives, and remind us that we need God on our best days just as much as we do on our worst.

Jessica is a UMC clergy woman, speaker, and has served on the COWF and a lot nicer than me on social media. You should pick it up.