Posts Tagged Merton

Why all Christians, not just Baptists, are indebted to Glenn Hinson*

DOUG WEAVER | APRIL 4, 2019 Baptistsnewsglobal.com

During the last weekend of March, Crescent Hill Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky, hosted a celebration honoring the life and work of E. Glenn Hinson, longtime professor of church history at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary who later taught at Baptist Theological Seminary of Richmond and Baptist Seminary of Kentucky.

With Hinson in the audience, Loyd Allen, Raymond Bailey, Alan Culpepper, Bill Leonard, Karen Smith and Phyllis Rodgerson Pleasants Tessieri, who had been Hinson’s students and faculty colleagues, gave lectures and described Hinson’s influence on their scholarship. During worship at Crescent Hill on Sunday, Elizabeth Hinson-Hastey included in her sermon insights on Hinson from her unique perspective as his daughter.

In many ways, the weekend was a reunion of the “old Southern Seminary” – a band of alumni, most of whom graduated before the Albert Mohler era, celebrating life beyond their exile of decades past. It was a gift to all who were there.

After serving as moderator for Crescent Hill’s William M. Johnson Lecture Series, I believe the event merits a postscript since the Hinson legacy celebrated in Kentucky literally reaches around the globe. Here are four of the many gifts Hinson has bequeathed to Baptists and the larger Christian community.

The gift of ecumenism and recognition that we are part of a larger Christian story.
In decades past (and still today), many students arrived on campuses with little knowledge of Christian history. If they knew anything about their Baptist story, it was probably a triumphalistic version and they still knew little or next to nothing about the broader traditions of the faith. It is the legacy of Glenn Hinson that Baptists became more aware of the larger Christian story. He was unique among Baptists, a patristics scholar, and while he added other things to his scholarly repertoire, he never ceased to introduce students to early Christianity.

“Out of his love for the whole history of the church, Hinson embodied ecumenical relationships.”

Out of his love for the whole history of the church, Hinson embodied ecumenical relationships. If you went to seminary and primarily knew and loved only Baptists, you left knowing and loving the church universal. (Who else but Hinson would send me to St. Meinrad Archabbey in Indiana to take a class on early Christianity with Father Ephraim?)

In his autobiography, Hinson has a subheading: “Catho-Baptist or Bapto-Catholic.” My personal assessment is that Hinson has always been a catholic Baptist, one who loved being Baptist, who affirmed vibrant personal faith, but who also heard the broader call of catholicity and was not afraid to teach his students about Catholic monks or Pope John XXIII and Vatican II. He has been a member of the Faith and Order Commission of the World Council of Churches.

Hinson describes his identity in even broader terms. He asserts that he is a “Bapto-Quakero-Methodo-Presbytero-Lutherano-Episcopo-Catholic!” And so he is. And his gift of ecumenism to Baptists is a gift that keeps giving.

The gift of Baptist voluntarism and Baptist dissent.
Hinson’s gift of ecumenism has never overshadowed his role as a committed Baptist. Throughout his six decades of teaching and writing, fundamentalist Baptists attacked him unceasingly, and he surely found more freedom, appreciation and rest in ecumenical environments. Yet Hinson never let go of Baptist identity, even as he modeled how someone formed by their own experience and tradition could also be a committed ecumenist. He argued that the essence of Baptist life is voluntarism. (His unwavering emphasis on voluntary faith and soul liberty stood in direct contrast to the coercive conformity of many of his detractors.) He warned Baptists that they had lost their way and had become “corporation Baptists” with little vibrant personal faith or authentic community. He understands Baptists, and his focus on voluntary faith is a gift that keeps giving.

For his colleagues and students, Hinson embodied and modeled Baptist dissent. He was the recipient of fundamentalist blow after blow (how many times was he asked if Adam and Eve were real people?), but he remained faithful and taught us that dissent was an act of faithfulness. Often his dissent was done with sly humor. After repeatedly being charged with universalist tendencies, he once facetiously remarked that he was inclined to such a position, but ultimately universalism failed because fundamentalists were surely going to hell. In this day and age, faithful dissent is a gift of Baptist DNA that must keep giving.

The gift of spirituality; the practice of the presence of God.
Many Baptists owe their introduction to the topic of spirituality and the classic literature of Christian devotion through the classes and writings of Glenn Hinson. In 1980, I was a member of the first class that Hinson taught on prayer. Seminarians flocked to his class on the Christian devotional classics. Students learned about Thomas Merton and the Abbey of Gethsemane because of Hinson’s friendship with his “brother” Merton. Students built their spirituality library with Hinson’s books, including A Serious Call to a Contemplative Lifestyle (1974), Doubleday Devotional Classics (1978) and The Reaffirmation of Prayer (1979).

“Hinson simply embodied that compelling phrase of Brother Lawrence, ‘to practice the presence of God.’”

For his students, Hinson simply embodied that compelling phrase of Brother Lawrence, “to practice the presence of God.” It was no exaggeration and with a bit of holy intimidation that we said, “When Dr. Hinson prays, you know God is there.” And we really weren’t joking when we thought Hinson had mystical visions of what God wanted (defined another way as powerful prayer).

I’ll never forget hearing some of my students in the late 1980s spout off a list of Baptist “heretics,” a list of names no doubt given to them by their pastors to warn them of liberalism in their classes. When I heard Hinson’s name blurted out by more than one naïve, young fundamentalist, I often responded with something like this: “Do you know him? Did you know he took the time to call a student when his father died? Have you heard him pray? Have you seen him in communion with God, practicing the presence of God? (Of course that last phrase flipped their minds.) If you blindly call Glenn Hinson a heretic, you have no idea of whom you speak.”

Spirituality and the need for spiritual formation, even of clergy – sharing the energizing love of God to all of his students – is a gift that keeps on giving.

The gift of identity as scholar, minister and teacher.
Last, but surely not least, Glenn Hinson knows who God called him to be. Throughout his long and venerable career, he never forgot who he was. He modeled what it means to be called to a ministry of teaching and scholarship. His ecumenism, Baptist dissent and practice of the presence of God were consistently lived out in the classroom. He wrote for both the academy and the church – a feat attempted less and less in contemporary higher education.

His grasp of subjects was deep and wide. He knew intimately the classics of Christian devotion such as Catholic Thomas Merton, Quaker Douglas Steere and Baptist John Bunyan, to name but three. Who else in Baptist life could write on ecumenism, patristics, Baptist history, spirituality/spiritual formation/spiritual leadership for ministry, ecclesiology, biblical exegesis, peacemaking and worship in scholarly and popular publications?

“He wrote for both the academy and the church – a feat attempted less and less in contemporary higher education.”

And who else was known for lecturing on all these topics (and more) in churches and educational institutions as well as conferences sponsored by a variety of religious bodies? As the Baptist Renaissance Man, Hinson points to the need of lifelong, broad and liberating learning and of devotion to the ministry of teaching.

Hinson is a scholar/teacher, but he has never lost sight of the practical needs of ministry. That has been his identity. The test questions he asked in “Introduction to Church History” demanded rigorous thinking and quality content; but they also revealed the practical application of Christian history to local church situations (something most churches are not prone to see). For example, I recall this test question: “You’re a minister in _____ position, and one of your church members asks you about _____. Answer them based on your knowledge of this issue in church history.” I copied this format when I started asking test questions (as did others who studied with him). I must admit, however, that I never quite got the answer he once received, “You have asked a very good question, Professor. I want to give you a very thoughtful answer. So let me do some research and let’s meet again next week to discuss it.”

Ecumenical and Baptist? Appreciation and commitment to the church worldwide, past and present? Realize the need for lifelong commitment to spiritual formation? Recognize that scholarship that meets the demands of the academy must also have a role in the church? Know that being Baptist embodies voluntary faith and dissent at its core?

To say that Baptists and other people of faith are “indebted” to E. Glenn Hinson is an understatement.

Editor’s note: The 2019 William M. Johnson lectures will be published by the American Baptist Quarterly. For information about pre-ordering a copy, contact the American Baptist Historical Society.

*Glenn Hinson lectured at the Hamrick Lectureship at First Baptist Church of Charleston, SC. He is a scholar’s scholar and friend.

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The Shiny Side Up from Rev. Susan Sparks – Laughter

“God is silent.   Now if only man would shut up.”    -Woody Allen
Hi y’all, welcome to the Shiny Side Up! A journal of infectious inspiration that will lift you up, make you smile and leave you stronger!

I am a spiritual seeker and a Leo. As such, I prefer chatty, outgoing deities. I want a God that wants to talk about the same things I do, i.e. me; a God that tells me when I wake up each morning that I look gorgeous; a God that says, “I love you” every five seconds and “You are so fabulous” every ten.

I didn’t ask to be born in August. I didn’t even ask to be a Leo. But since someone or something chose to put me on this earth during that particular planetary grade, one would think that he, she or it would take the time to ensure that my royal Leo requirements were met. Unfortunately, the deity responsible was, I believe, a Scorpio: a private, quiet sign that hates lengthy conversations.

You don’t have to be a fiery lioness to feel the weight of holy silence. We’ve all had that moment when we look around expectantly for some divine response — any response — and there appears to be none. Why does God sometimes appear silent? And why do those times seem to be the ones we most need holy assistance?

One thing I have learned over the years about Scorpios is that while sometimes quiet, they are loyal beyond imagination. Often found in the background, they are nonetheless always there — a bit like Forrest Gump. In the movie, Forrest magically materializes out of the background in some of the major historical moments of the time. Oh, here is Forrest with President John F. Kennedy! Oh, here he is with Elvis Presley! Oh, look Forrest is standing beside John Lennon! You had to look closely to see him, but he was always there.

The ancient Celts apparently agreed with my assessment that God is a Scorpio. In Celtic spirituality, in order to find God, you had to look pretty hard. But if you looked in the right places, God was always there. One of those places was what the Celts deemed “thin places”; places where the boundary between human and holy was so thin, so transparent, you could almost break through. These were the spaces where secular and holy, earth and heaven, ordinary and sacred came together. As the theologian, Marcus Borg explained: “Thin places are places where the veil momentarily lifts, and we behold God.”

Thin places can take many forms. Some might be geographical, like the desert, where all things are stripped away and life is down to its bare essentials. Others might be found in music, poetry, literature or art. Another thin place we don’t often think of is laughter. Laughter is the ultimate act of letting go. It clears our hearts of insecurity, neediness and stale expectations. It opens it anew to the words or songs or silence we were meant to receive.

With laughter, our hearts are laid bare before God. And in this place where all is released, all becomes possible.

One other thing I have learned is that Leos never believe anything is their fault. That is why it has taken me years to realize that God is silent through no fault of God, but because of my own baggage — my own inability to hear. The Trappist monk Thomas Merton explained: “Life is this simple. We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God is shining through it all the time. This is not just a fable or a nice story. It is true. [And] if we abandon ourselves to God and forget ourselves, we see it sometimes.”

In the end, I still see myself as a Leo with a Scorpio creator. But through laughter, I’ve found a thin place where even Leos and Scorpios are compatible; a point where we let go and stop trying to make God into something; a place of repose where, resting in the mystery, we simply await God to reveal God’s self in God’s own time. No expectations. No disappointments. Just faith that what comes is holy and right and meant to be … Scorpio, Leo or whatever.

(This post is an excerpt from my book, “Laugh Your Way to Grace: Reclaiming the Spiritual Power of Humor.” Permission granted by SkyLight Paths Publishing.)

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Putting God to the test – The Rev. Dr. Molly Marshall* – Baptistsnewsglobal.com

The study of the Hebrew language did not come easily to me. Perhaps it was because I waited until my final year of seminary to take it; perhaps it was because it met at 3 p.m.; perhaps it was because I sat near a window; perhaps it was because our professor was so bored teaching at this elementary level — I am sure I can come up with some other excuses. I did pass, even making an A, but only because I memorized the Book of Jonah, a particular interest of our instructor.

As I have been teaching my way through Exodus with my Sunday school class, I certainly wish I had loved the Hebrew language more. I am sure that particular nuances elude me, yet translations do capture the richness of the narratives. Specifically, I want to know more about the issue of “testing.”

Exodus itself is a patchwork of stories, which were gathered and edited over many years. These stories are complex reflections on how God’s purpose will be accomplished with flawed human actors, and how human choices will impact the character of the divine. Wandering, while being led? It is very hard to map how the wilderness journey transpired, and clearly the people made the trek more difficult through obstinacy and lack of faith.

The wilderness was a dangerous place, and the way God through Moses led was open to suspicion. A frequent refrain of the congregation of Israel was, “Have you brought us out here to kill us?” Moses usually deflected and suggested that their complaint was against God, not him (Exodus 17:2). Because he claimed to be sent by God to shepherd this people, he had to take the heat. He was a convenient target — like our pastors.

God tested the people, and the people tested God. Neither seemed pleased about this abrasion in their relationship, yet it was an unavoidable reality as a covenant was being forged in a context of peril. Could God trust the people to follow the appointed leadership of Moses? Could the people trust that they were accompanied by God’s own presence? Their insistent question was, “Is the Lord among us or not?” We can only imagine the ways in which that same query is being voiced in the daily heart-rending devastations.

They found themselves at Rephidim without water, and once again God provided through an unexpected means. God instructed Moses to take his staff, the one he had used to turn the Nile into blood, was now to provide life-giving water. God’s own presence was in front of him at Horeb, and through Moses’ action of striking the rock, abundant water flowed. The place where this occurs portrays testing and quarreling, Massah and Meribah, and becomes a cautionary note about how not to behave toward God. Israel’s remarkable lack of faith was on display in full force.

It seemed that Moses believed that God had the right to test the people, but they should have refrained from testing God. After all, God has prerogatives that do not belong to human beings. Brueggemann says that this text warns against a utilitarian view of God, in which the divine “is judged by the desired outcomes for the asking community.” In other words, human measures should not presume to assess the adequacy of God. Dictating how God must respond reduces the sovereign one to our level, a risky proposition, indeed. While immanent among us, God is also working in ways that transcend our comprehension.

Jesus’ own experience in the wilderness raises this theological question once again. When the devil tempted him to throw himself down from the pinnacle of the temple in order to prove his identity in a spectacular way, Jesus quoted, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test” (Deuteronomy 6:16). The rest of the verse is “as you did at Massah.”

This faith venture is not easy, and we are beckoned to trust what we cannot see. Walking by faith and not sight produces a bit of anxiety, even for the mature in Christ. We echo the treasured words of Thomas Merton in Thoughts in Solitude:

“My Lord, God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end.”

Thankfully, the one who was seen and touched by earliest believers, the very sacrament of God’s presence with humanity, walks just ahead of us, marking out the pathway. It is this reality that leads Merton to conclude his prayer with these words:

“Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”

*Dr. Marshall spoke at the Hamrick Lectures at First Baptist Church of Charleston. I place great store in her theological thinking and her Christian leadership.

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