Legends, Fantasies, Stories

I'm prompted by a small source today, found in another little issue of Lutheran Quarterly, to write about something that the Lutherans (and in the last century of so the Episcopalians) have been rather more fond of than any other Protestants: "Legends" of the saints, and more broadly the use of fiction, imagination, and fantasy.

This may be a surprise for some - a very common belief among Christians is that in Luther's zeal, he did away with "false legends" of the Romans in favor of strictly using the scriptures (and a literal, historically "inerrant" [whatever that means] understanding of scripture at that). Many opponents of Lutheranism even charge Luther of getting rid of the Apocrypha (those nifty books in the center of many Roman Catholic Bibles). But the Lutherans never really opposed these things in the way that either the Calvinists or the Radical Reformers would. The Lutherans were never iconoclasts, nor did they try to remove joyful things like musical instruments from worship. Lutherans recognized that these things could be used for edification and praise, even if they scandalized their opponents.

Luther certainly attempted to purge the preaching of references to stories that drew attention away from the work of Christ. He also certainly tried to get preachers to focus more on the works of Jesus than the works of say... St. George the Dragon-Slayer. And there were certainly a number of stories that he thought contained such stinking nonsense that it would be best if no one read them anymore. Kind of like how I don't think any of you all should be reading or letting your kids "Twilight" - it's just silly nonsense that normalizes gross and harmful relationships. Luther also roundly condemned invoking the saints. But that doesn't mean Luther wanted to get rid of stories. Also - Luther certainly didn't get rid of the Apocrypha. He translated it all, and put it at the back of the Bible for consultation - following a pre-existing tradition that these books weren't of the same "stuff" as the Hebrew Scriptures or the New Testament. But publishers back then and today generally try to cut down on expenses and tended not to print them.

But Luther and his colleagues observed, like with the Apocrypha, there are all kinds of nifty, fun, and edifying stories, legends, and myths in the Church that can actually help people understand the faith. Johann Steiger makes this quite clear in a neat little article about Luther's use of the legends of St. Christopher in preaching and teaching.

Here's St. Christopher having a RUFF day

For you all who don't know - St. Christopher is a fun medieval legendary character who "was" either a super tall dude, an actual Giant, an actual Ogre, or a Cynocephalus (dude with a dog's head) - which to the average early Medieval mind was definitely a sort of person, who their weird great-great-uncle definitely saw or was killed by when traveling through Egypt, or China, or somewhere inconceivably far away from rural medieval Germany or France. St. Christopher at any rate was a really strong jerk who served the king of Canaan (which again, was definitely a contemporary nation to the story, even if it didn't exist for centuries, history be darned). Eventually he found out that the King of Canaan feared the devil and figured if the devil was so powerful, he should probably just serve the devil instead. So he went to serve the devil with some other jerks, when he eventually found out that the devil was scared of Jesus. So he figured he'd serve Jesus instead, and become an even more powerful jerk. In time he met a Christian hermit, who thought he was kind of a dummy, and said the best way he could serve Christ was to help people ford across a treacherous, unfordable river. In time, a small child asked to cross the river. The river swelled up, and Christopher discovered the child was heavier than anyone ever before him. Christopher found himself in grave danger, but in time managed to cross the river - only to discover that he bore with him the Christchild - who tells him his service is good, and beckons him to place his staff in the ground. The following morning - Christopher discovers his staff has been transfigured into a palm tree.

This story was incredibly popular throughout Europe, and found its way into countless works of art. Most of those artworks, particularly the ones Luther was familiar with, were of Christopher holding tight to his staff as he tried to cross the river, while a placid infant Christ calmly resting on his shoulders (often with a globe in his hands). Luther interpreted the story to his listeners on multiple occasions - telling them at a wedding that the Staff symbolizes the Word of God, which is Christopher's only support through the treacherous waters as he brings Christ from one side to the next. So too must the couple cling to God's Word in times of trouble in their relationship - knowing that the Word is strong enough to bear their troubles and their station in life is a holy one, because it is in service to their spouse. Later, on St. Christopher's Day (one of those mythical, pagan days that Luther allegedly wanted to end) Luther argued that the images of Christopher that so many see can actually be a symbol for all Christians. Luther argues that "Christ-bearers" are weighed down by Christ into baptism, so that they may be lifted up in Christ's mercy. Later Luther uses the image of Christopher to counter his accusers in the Radical Reformation. Where they accused Luther of being slack in the imitation of Christ's suffering, Luther counters that we need not seek suffering out - it will find us one way or the other and Christ will be there for us. (Johann Steiger, "Luther on the Legend of St. Christopher," Lutheran Quarterly v. XXV no. 2 (2011) p. 126-137).

Luther's not the only one to make that point though. Melanchthon also points to the legends of Christopher as particularly telling among others tories of Barbra, Cyprian, Augustine, and others. InArticle XXI of Melanchthon's Apology to the Augsburg Confession, Melanchthon notes that there are great stories for us to take strength from, it's just that people take the wrong lessons! People will hear a wonderful story about the fictional St. Christopher and his admonition to strength while carrying Christ in preaching and sharing the Good News, and preachers will make them leave with the understanding that they ought to pray to him instead of Jesus. Melanchthon complains "... these clowns, endowed with the knowledge of neither faith nor the administration of public affairs, have invented stories in imitation of the epics, in which there are nothing but superstitious examples about certain prayers and fasts, to which certain things are tacked on in order to earn revenue." (Apology XXI:32-41) Pretty much, people in a place of influence were telling believers invented stories to convince them to give more money to the bishops. The heart of the matter is exploitation, not imagination. And with it, and admonition to true preaching.

Just because something is legendary, doesn't mean it isn't true. Indeed, legends can reveal much truth, and bring much joy. Good ones capture our attention, and bring us a sense of profound wonder.  And this doesn't stop in the medieval period. Contemporary fiction, most famously comic book stories, do this in the modern period. X-Men of course is a story about people who are both insecure and way cooler than us who have super powers. But it's also an allegory on civil rights - in particular the rights of people of color (in the early period) and LGBT+ people (in more contemporary stories). Spider-Man is about coming to terms with yourself. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was/is 90s period gender studies for teens with all the great and all the terrible that entails. All of them are hit-and-miss - with great parts and just awful parts. The presence, or lack, of historic veracity should not concern us so much as what the content reflects and calls for.

We share and we interpret our stories through our faith, and through our convictions, we see for where something divine is at work through the images. We can also reject crappy and unedifying stories that lead people into wacky nonsense. And we can talk about images and stories, and how they help us understand the world. God actually wants us to understand God's will and ways - it shouldn't surprise us that pictures can drive us to understand. And we enter into a conversation of faith and fiction. And that's a really rewarding thing we can do - and we're best equipped when we read theology.

Oswald Bayer's Theses for Church Renewal, a bit Lenny Duncan (in anticipation of more), and the communal nature of justification

"1. Lutheranism has been entrusted with one gift in particular, namely, a clear doctrine which concentrates on the justifying God and on sinful man. [sic]

2. As with every 'charism,' its purpose is not to be sought in self-display, but in service. Being aware of this gift the Lutheran confession cannot be an end in itself, but rather a service to ecumenism.

3. The Lutheran understanding of justification can appear to concentrate too much, if not exclusively, on the personal salvation of the individual. To counter this, the following must be emphasized. Justification is an event which should be perceived in its social and universal dimension as well as in its significance for the individual.

...

5. The new creation becomes tangible in the distinction between law and gospel.

6. The distinction between law and gospel serves the gospel since the gospel can be unequivocally clear and and certain only when it is freed from having to serve at the same time as law [against Karl Barth's concept of the unity of gospel and law].

...

9. ... In the law [God] speaks out against me; in the gospel [God] speaks for me: 'here I wrestle for thee.'

...

15. By discovering the all-important tangible worldly mediation of God's word of salvation, Luther discovered a new "worldliness." In other words, he received a fuller understanding of St. John 1:14 'And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us...'

...

17. Separated from the First Commandment, such a perception of the world would be blind. Similarly if the First Commandment were separated from the perception of the world ... it would be empty.

...

20. The Christian as new creation must know, however, what its relation is to the old aeon. ... [the civil end of law] is valid for the Christian. There is no difference between the non-Christian and the Christian, inasmuch as the latter still belongs to the old aeon.

24. Our pilgrimage takes place in the difference between seeing and believing, and is characterized both by waiting and hastening, prompted by the Holy Spirit in patience, as well as in the impatient cry, 'Maranatha!"

Oswald Bayer, Twenty Four Theses on the Renewal of Lutheranism by Concentrating on the Doctrine of Justification, Lutheran Quarterly Volume V no. 1, Spring 1991, 73-75


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I like reading Bayer, and I like this passage of his in an old Lutheran Quarterly I picked up at Krauth Memorial Library. Bayer is remarkably clear and provocative at once in his commitment to the basics of Lutheran theology - the distinction between law and gospel, the co-humanity of all people through sin and redemption, the openness to others, the unbridled commitment to the truth, the struggle of faith, and above all justification by grace through faith. In this, Bayer's works set a good foundation for contemporary Lutheran theologians. When it comes to theologians who do Lutheranism well, he comes in short order after the Lutheran Confessions themselves.

In this passage, Bayer sets the stage for Lutheran "renewal." Written in 1991, it is not so new, just never followed through with - and I think not adequately explored in the sense that we need it to - we could use it to open theology up in our contexts, but few theologians are brave enough to do so. Bayer's translated works fail to make this jump as well. They remain generally abstract - though I have to admit ignorance towards his untranslated German works. But their consequence for on-the-ground ministry is profound. Lutheran renewal, Bayer proposes, is done with through a thorough understanding of justification - one that takes fully into account the powers of law and gospel, the perniciousness/ubiquity of sin in the experience of humanity, and the unfailing devotion of God to wrestle for our sake - against the terrors of the law, against the terrors that humans wage against one another, and against sin and death. Bayer's theology takes sin and suffering, the human condition, and the power, terror, and struggle of God far more seriously than most folks dare to. Bayer's God fights and struggles where other theologians seem satisfied for a gentle, distant love with vaguely any skin in the game. But the wrestling that God does is for us.

Critically, Bayer observes that justification has been mishandled in the church. Through a largely uninhibited devotion to the well-being of the individual, justification's effects on communities has been neglected. But for Bayer, the Gospel preached creates faith amid assemblies, not faith amongst individuals. It has worldly consequences of unity, community, collaboration which work together as the body of Christ. And that doesn't mean that the battle is done and everything's perfect in our pretty little churches. It means that the battle is both finished and just beginning. Those who hear the word are in it together.

Because we're still fighting for justice in this world. We're still even fighting among ourselves. There are still people who are suffering and dying and believing that they are forgotten. Many of them are Christians who are oppressed by other Christians, or are oppressing other Christians and hardly realize it. Some of them are not Christian at all, and yet God works through them for the common good. The Good News is that Jesus has actually got this - even if sometimes we see it and sometimes we don't. The Christian life - Bayer observes - has shades of action and shades of patience. It has crying out and it has waiting. And God is there amid it all - unaffected by common hypnoses and psychoses, except through God's own love and passion that drives God to break us out and set us free.

Justification has social consequences - because it creates a community of people who look to the crucified one and say "What Jesus has done is what we are about." The sick are healed, the hungry are fed, the oppressed are set free, the sinners are forgiven, and the power structures that we get passively hypnotized into thinking are just fine are getting overturned the moment we get shaken out of state-sponsored delusions. In focusing on the event of justification - the eyes with which we look upon the world and the heart with which we receive it - find oneness with Christ's own. Who he was in the world, we too may be. And we won't be, we will struggle, and we will fail, and we will be culpable. But our love will be part of something different and something eternal.

I noted earlier that Bayer's books are as basic as they are provocative. They're foundations for more important work, and that important work is the ministry of the Church. Theology's never meant to be something disembodied or removed from the daily life of the Church. In a lot of ways, I think Lenny Duncan does a really good job of "doing" Bayer's theology (his first book Dear Church is coming out shortly). I detect a lot of spiritual kinship between the two. I haven't read the new book yet (didn't sign up for an early copy), but everything that I've read and watched of his seems to track with Bayer's works. What Bayer puts down as lot of the basics of Christian faith and life in the abstract - Duncan shows in practice on the ground when confronting the sin of racism in the institutional church and beyond - what the gift of justification and forgiveness does in the face of oppression. Here the difference between what is seen and what is believed, and the struggle of faith is laid out painfully, powerfully, and clearly. And that gets him a whole lot of hate - including from Christians who ought to know better. This is at once a sad and familiar thing that I don't understand but recognize as fitting into a pattern of costly discipleship. Duncan builds in context what Bayer sets theological foundations for in abstract. So read some Oswald Bayer, and read some Lenny Duncan. It can be really hard to, but it's good, and it's for you.