Sparky Anderson: RIP

The baseball world has lost a great one. 🙁

The white-haired genius who helped make red the pre-eminent color in the National League in the ’70s and directed the American League team that roared loudest in ’80s has passed. Sparky Anderson, the chatty Hall of Famer given to outrageous success and outlandish predictions, joined the great majority Thursday, three days after he was admitted to a hospice in Thousand Oaks, Calif., where he had spent most of his adult life. Death came at age 76 for a man who had spent 42 years in professional baseball, 30 as a manager, including four in the Minors.

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More from N.T. Wright

Below are more excerpts from this week’s featured Anglican theologian and writer, +Tom Wright. Since we celebrated All Saints’ Day on Monday, I am emphasizing +Tom’s writings about the New Creation. Enjoy.

On Resting in Christ:

This picture [of an intermediate state between our mortal life and the New Creation] is further confirmed by the language of Revelation. There we find the souls of the martyrs waiting, under the altar, for the final redemption to take place. They are at rest; they are conscious; they are able to ask how long it will be before justice is done (6.9-11); but they are not yet enjoying the final bliss which is to come in the New Jerusalem. This is in line with the classic Eastern Orthodox doctrine, which, though it speaks of the saints, and invokes them in all sorts of ways, does not see them as having finally experienced the completeness of redemption. Until all God’s people are safely home, none of them is yet fulfilled. That is why the Orthodox pray for the saints as well as with them, that they–with us when we join them–may come to the fulfillment of God’s complete purposes.

In particular, we must take account of the well-known and striking saying of Jesus to the dying brigand beside him, recorded by Luke (23.43). ‘Today,’ he said, ‘you will be with me in paradise.’ ‘Paradise’ is not the final destination; it is a beautiful resting place on the way there.

For All the Saints: Remembering the Christian Departed

On being a saint of God:

In fact, there are so many things said in the New Testament about the greatest becoming least and the least becoming greatest that we shouldn’t be surprised at this lack of distinction between the post-mortem state of different Christians. I appreciate that it may be hard for some to come to terms with this, but in the light of the most basic and central Christian gospel, the message and achievement of Jesus and the preaching of Paul and the others, there is no reason whatever to say, for instance, that Peter or Paul, James or John, or even, dare I say, the mother of Jesus herself, is more advanced, closer to God, or has achieved more spiritual ‘growth’, than the Christians who were killed for their faith last week or last year. Remember the workers in the vineyard (Matthew 20.1-16). Those who worked all day thought they would be paid more, but those who came at the last hour were paid just the same. Is the vineyard owner not allowed to do what he likes with his own? Are we going to grumble because he is so wonderfully generous?

If we are to be true to our foundation charter, then, we must say that all Christians, living and departed, are to be thought of as ‘saints’; and that all Christians who have died are to be thought of, and treated, as such. I honour the sentiments of those who expend time and effort over canonization, beatification and the like. I know that they are trying to say something about how important holiness was and is. But I cannot help regarding their efforts as misguided.

For All the Saints: Remembering the Christian Departed

On punishment of Christians for their sins after death:

I cannot stress sufficiently that if we raise the question of punishment for sin, this is something that has already been dealt with on the cross of Jesus. Of course, there have been crude and unbiblical versions of the doctrine of atonement, and many have rightly reacted against the idea of a vengeful God determined to punish someone and being satisfied by taking it out on his own son. But do not mistake the caricature for the biblical doctrine. Paul says, in his most central and careful statement, not that God punished Jesus, but that God ‘condemned sin in the flesh’ of Jesus (Romans 8.3). Here the instincts of the Reformers, if not always their exact expressions, were spot on. The idea that Christians need to suffer punishment for their sins in a postmortem purgatory, or anywhere else, reveals a straightforward failure to grasp the very heart of what was achieved on the cross.

What happens to us, our sinful selves, when we die? Are we not still in need of some serious sorting out and cleaning up? Do not our spirits, our souls, still leave a great deal to be desired? If we have made any spiritual growth during the present life, does this not leave us realizing just how much further we have to go? Do we not feel, in our small steps towards holiness here and now, that we have only just begun to climb, and that the mountain still looms high over us?

Yes, we do. Those are, I think, sound and normal Christian instincts. But what the standard argument fails to take into account is the significance of bodily death. We have been fooled, not for the first time, by a view of death, and life beyond, in which the really important thing is the ‘soul’–something which, to many people’s surprise, hardly features at all in the New Testament. We have allowed our view of the saving of souls to loom so large that we have failed to realize that the Bible is much more concerned about bodies–concerned to the point where it’s actually quite difficult to give a clear biblical account of the disembodied state in between bodily death and bodily resurrection. That’s not what the biblical writers are trying to get us to think about–even though it is of course what many Christians have thought about to the point of obsession, including many who have thought of themselves as ‘biblical’ in their theology. But what should not be in doubt is that,  for the New Testament, bodily death itself actually puts sin to an end. There may well be all kinds of sins still lingering on within us, infecting us and dragging us down. But part of the biblical understanding of death, bodily death, is that it finishes all that off at a single go.

The central passages here are Romans 6.6-7 and Colossians 2.11-13, with the picture they generate being backed up by key passages from John’s Gospel. Both of the Pauline texts are speaking of baptism. Christians are assured that their sins have already been dealt with through the death of Christ; they are now no longer under threat because of them. The crucial verse is Romans 6.7: ‘the one who has died is free from sin’ (literally, ‘is justified from sin’). The necessary cleansing from sin, it seems, takes place in two stages. First, there is baptism and faith. ‘You are already made clean’, says Jesus, ‘by the word which I have spoken to you’ (John 15.3). The word of the gospel, awakening faith in the heart, is itself the basic cleansing that we require. ‘The one who has washed’, said Jesus at the supper, ‘doesn’t need to wash again, except for his feet; he is clean all over’ (John 13.10). The ‘feet’ here seem to be representing the part of us which still, so to speak, stands on the muddy ground of this world. This is where ‘the sin which so easily gets in the way’ (Hebrews 12. 1) finds, we may suppose, its opportunity.

But the glorious news is that, although during the present life we struggle with sin, and may or may not make small and slight progress towards genuine holiness, our remaining propensity to sin is finished, cut off, done with all at once, in physical death. ‘The body is dead because of sin,’ declares Paul, ‘but the spirit is life because of righteousness’ (Romans 8. 10).

For All the Saints: Remembering the Christian Departed

Henri Nouwen on the Spiritual Life

The spiritual life is not a life before, after, or beyond our everyday existence. No, the spiritual life can only be real when it is lived in the midst of the pains and joys of the here and now. Therefore we need to begin with a careful look at the way we think, speak, feel, and act from hour to hour, day to day, week to week, and year to year, in order to become more fully aware of our hunger for the Spirit. As long as we have only a vague inner feeling of discontent with our present way of living, and only an indefinite desire for “things spiritual,” our lives will continue to stagnate in a generalized melancholy. We often say, “I am not very happy. I am not content with the way my life is going. I am not really joyful or peaceful, but I just don’t know how things can be different, and I guess I have to be realistic and accept my life as it is.” It is this mood of resignation that prevents us from actively searching for the life of the Spirit.

Our first task is to dispel the vague, murky feeling of discontent and to look critically at how we are living our lives. This requires honesty, courage, and trust. We must honestly unmask and courageously confront our many self-deceptive games. We must trust that our honesty and courage will lead us not to despair, but to a new heaven and a new earth.

Making All Things New

Be Still

I urge you to still every motion that is not rooted in the Kingdom. Become quiet, hushed, motionless until you are finally centered. Strip away all excess baggage and nonessential trappings until you have come into the stark reality of the Kingdom of God. Let go of all distractions until you are driven into the Core.

–Richard Foster, Freedom of Simplicity

Augustine on the New Creation

How great will be that felicity [of the City of God in its perpetual Sabbath], where there will be no evil, where no good will be withheld, where there will be leisure for the praises of God, who will be all in all! All the limbs and organs of the body, no longer subject to decay, the parts which we now see assigned to various essential functions, will be freed from all such constraint, since full, secure, certain and eternal felicity will have displaced necessity; and all those parts will contribute to the praise of God. I am not rash enough to attempt to describe what the movements of such bodies will be in that life, for it is quite beyond my power of imagination. However, everything there will be lovely in its form, and lovely in motion and in rest, for anything that is not lovely will be excluded. The reward of virtue will be God himself, who gave the virtue, together with the promise of himself, the best and greatest of all possible promises. He will be the goal of all our longings; and we shall see him for ever; we shall love him without surfeit; we shall praise him without wearying. This will be the duty, the delight, the activity of all, shared by all who share the life of eternity.

City of God 22.30

Human Free Will and God’s Grace

And God made humans also upright, with the same power of free choice, as animals of earth, yet worthy of heaven if they adhered to the author of their being, but, by the same token, destined, if they abandoned God, for a misery appropriate to their kind of nature. Now God foreknew that human beings would sin by breaking God’s law through their apostasy from God; and yet, as in the case of the angels, God did not deprive them of the power of free choice, foreseeing, at the same time, the good that he was to bring out of human evil. For out of this mortal progeny, so rightly and justly condemned, God by his grace is gathering a people so great that from them he may fill the place of the fallen angels and restore their number.

–Augustine, The City of God 22.1

John Chrysostom on Prayer

Prayer, loving conversation with God, is the supreme good. It is both a relationship with God and union with him. As the eyes of the body are made sharper by the sight of light, so the soul yearning for God is illumined by his ineffable light. Prayer is not the result of an external attitude; it comes from the heart. it is not limited to set hours or minutes, but, night and day, it is a continuous activity. It is not enough to direct one’s thoughts to God when concentrating exclusively on prayer; even when absorbed in other occupations–such as, caring for the poor, or some other concern in the way of a good or useful work–it is important to combine the work with desire for and remembrance of God. For thus you will be able to offer the Lord a very pleasing food from the universe, seasoned with the salt of love for God.

Prayer is the light of the soul, true knowledge of God, a mediating activity between God and humanity. Through it, the soul rises heavenward and embraces the Savior with ineffable love. As a suckling to its mother, it cries to God, weeping, thirsting for the divine milk. It expresses its deepest desires and receives gifts greater than anything on earth. Prayer, by which we respectfully present ourselves to God, is the joy of the heart and the soul’s rest.

Prayer brings the soul to the heavenly fountain, satisfies the soul with this draught, and raises up in it “a fountain leaping up to provide eternal life.” Prayer gives a real assurance of the good things to come, in faith, and makes present blessings more recognizable. Do not imagine that prayer consists only in words. It is a leap to God, an inexpressible love that is not of our making, as the Apostle says: “We do not know how to pray as we ought; but the Spirit himself makes intercession for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in speech.”

Such prayer, when the Lord grants it to anyone, is a treasure that cannot be taken away, a heavenly food that satisfies the soul. One who tastes it is filled with an eternal desire for God, such a devouring flame that it kindles the heart. Let this fire flare up in you in all its fullness, to adorn the dwelling place of the heart with kindness and humility, to make it shine with the light of righteousness, and to polish its floor with good deeds. Hence, adorn your house and instead of mosaics decorate it with faith and magnanimity. And as a finishing touch put prayer at the top of your building. Then you will have prepared a house worthy to receive the Lord, as a royal place, and you yourself, through grace, will already be possessing him, in a certain manner, in the temple of your soul.

Homily 6 on Prayer