Cicadas!

It is late May in Chicago. The old oak trees in our yard are covered with hundreds of cicadas' exoskeletons and with the newly born insects that are perched on the leaves drying out before experiencing their fifteen days of fame. A high persistent roar echoes throughout our neighborhood as these creatures exit from the underground and celebrate life and hope, only to go back underground, at least through their offspring, for seventeen more years. I live nearly ten miles from Lake Michigan, but sea gulls soar through the neighborhood looking for fast food. Grandsons scoop up the shells and play with the live insects, proving that apples do not fall far from the trunk--though that was several cicada-generations ago.

It is forty-five years since Rachel Carson published Silent Spring, and the ecological crisis has only deepened in the meantime. The myriad cicadas mask the fact that we live on a fragile planet, with hundreds of species threatened with extinction. Only diehards today deny global warming, yet we struggle as a people to marshal the necessary financial and governmental resources and the alternative sources of power to address the crisis. Perhaps the song of the cicadas can be a wakeup call.

Larry Rasmussen gave the graduation address, in 2007, at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago. He spoke of two tipping points: the transformation of Earth-human relations with the fossil-fuel avalanche of the Industrial Revolution, and a counter tipping point dealing with an Earth-honoring rather than an Earth-abusing faith. He spoke of us Christians as dreamers, dreaming of the divine domain come on Earth as it is in Heaven. Just as we breathe the same air Jesus did, so we are baptized in the same water as Jesus the Lamb was. Would the many ministries gathered at this graduation ceremony become that second tipping point, creating, with the grace of God, a way of life that is set, like a bulwark never failing, against the slow tsunami of planetary degradation? The clean water of baptism can wash away any indifference, despair, or fear that clouds one's vision. How can we, the baptized, gathered at table, keep from singing about the river of the water of death being replaced by the river of the water of life?

Lisa Dahill attempts to bring together Bonhoeffer's Christology and the psychological and spiritual needs of women in abuse. From the beginning of his writings Bonhoeffer identified "the other" as the locus of transcendence, and he found authentic life in surrender to the absolute demands of the other. In one's becoming a person for others he believed one participates in the very being and mystery of Jesus Christ who was himself the consummate person for others. Yet Bonhoeffer's psychological starting point differs from many, especially from that of (abused) women. If Bonhoeffer was tempted to deny the other, many women are tempted to deny the self. Their spirituality necessarily takes with ultimate seriousness the sufferings of God in their own flesh and hearts. Selflessness and Christlike martyrdoms by abused women only reinforce the cycle of abuse and are far from redemptive. Jesus' unceasing devotion makes a person no longer merely "other," but a holy center, able to receive him and the outpoured life he offers. Toward the end of his life Bonhoeffer himself recognized that a life of self-sacrifice cannot be made into an absolute. Bonhoeffer wrote for those who, like himself, are in positions of domination and whose sins are those of domination. How can Bonhoeffer be transformed for others who do not share his origins?

Amy Marga points out that Karl Barth absorbed aspects of Luther's theology that allowed him to articulate Christian theology in deeper ways over against modernity. Luther's theology, as enunciated in his Galatians commentary, provided Barth with the resources to pull Christology out of the grip of Enlightenment understandings of the individual as an autonomous agent. Luther was committed to the Chalcedonian formula and saw human salvation as the central purpose of Christ's person and work. Christ is in us and for us but remains a reality outside of us. The Enlightenment brought with it a sustained focus upon the human individual as an independent, rational, and moral agent and made it difficult to accept the theological anthropology of Luther's theology. The face and life of the historical Jesus was enough for natural human reason to discover and know God in God's fullness. Contrary to his Lutheran contemporaries, Barth established that Christ's work cannot be understood on the basis of the historical figure of Jesus alone. Barth demonstrated that a substantive Christology of Jesus Christ the mediator functions as a critique of the Enlightenment understanding of the human as a rational, moral agent. The exercise of reason cannot bring us insight into God's activities. Taking Barth's retrieval of Luther's Christology seriously means bringing to light the falsity that lies in the concept of an autonomous "good will" that accompanies modern individuals' sense of self.

Alicia Vargas holds that Latinas recognize in each other the tension generated by the continuous construction and self-affirmation of their beings. Latinas live at the intersection of their countries of origin and the United States. Latina women suffer the socioeconomic and sexist oppression that render them doubly marginal in the country where they now live. Latinas' faith in Jesus Christ empowers them to take action for individual and communal self-affirmation and to deconstruct the oppressive categories that attempt to trap them. A first step in transforming reality would be to "adjectivize" every person and every christological claim. Those currently in the center should leave it vacant, and when the center is vacated so will be the margins automatically (no center, no margins). This call to dialogue is also a call to transform the church and theological education.

Jack R. Lundbom shares reflections on the theme of the 9th Assembly of the World Council of Churches: "God in Your Grace Transform the World," drawing particularly on resources from the Old Testament. He points out that grace cannot coexist with divine anger or judgment, but grace can be sought and found. Hence the address to God in the WCC theme is appropriate. Grace is promised and can be expected to come to individuals and to a church that leads a life of obedience to God's commands. Grace will surely abound when the church emulates God and carries out active grace to the poor, the needy, and those in distress.

Mark Thomsen offers thoughts on Vitor Westhelle's recent book The Scandalous God as a "Book Worth Discussing." He points out that the theme that God died and dies and lives is central to the book's proposal. Westhelle's reading of Luther is informed by his own deep knowledge of Hegelian philosophy. In pain, death, poverty, marginalization, and oppression we experience living in the abyss. A theology of the cross rips away that facade that attempts to hide pain and death and invites one into the abyss where in the darkness there is the possibility of light and life. Love in the shadow of the abyss makes the return of God possible. Westhelle's use of Luther texts to call for truth-telling is profound. His imagery of sharing the fragrance of love with the smells of death is truly hope.

Howard S. Olson wrote the tune and words for a hymn titled "A New Creation," published for the first time in this issue. A former missionary to Africa and long-time contributor to Currents, Olson points out that this hymn would be particularly appropriate for August 5, 2007, when the Second Reading is Col 3:1-10.

Where will we be as church, nation, and world when the cicadas emerge from their underground in 2024? We in the church are blessed with two doctrines--creation and baptism--that offer life and hope and mandate. Will we have become, as Larry Rasmussen asked, that second tipping point, creating, with the grace of God, a way of life that is set, like a bulwark never failing, against the slow tsunami of planetary degradation? Will the fragrance of our love for planet Earth and the God who made it win out over the smells of death? One thing is sure: We dare not simply go underground for the next seventeen years.

Ralph W. Klein, Editor