Tuesday, December 21, 2010

A Christmas Message

More than any year in recent memory, I have noticed the popularity and "coolness" of folks professing atheism or agnosticism and expressing surprise and even disdain for those who profess religious faith. I have no doubt that some of it has to do with the "me over the we" mentality of many people today. The Washington Post reports that, according to a recent poll by the Christian group LifeWay Research, "A majority of agnostics or those claiming no preference (89 percent), individuals claiming other religions (62 percent), and even atheists (55 percent) celebrate Christmas along with 97 percent of Christians." For those who are focused on "me" Christmas can be a great gig. What better time to buy "gifts for me" as many people stated on Black Friday as their reason for braving the crowds? Of course, the church may have erred way back when it chose a pagan feast time to observe its own religious celebration of the birth of Christ. I find myself dreading the Christmas season each year, because it seems to be a time of excess and selfishness, clothed in an air of respectability, since the holiday focuses on peace and good will.
Having said all of that, I do love the meaning of the season. Advent has always been a season of joy and great expectation for me, and a time to re-imagine what the impact of God's messiah could be on the world. The message of Christ is not one that the majority of people embrace seriously, and that includes many practicing Christians. Christ's ethic is demanding, and many of us blithely pass over it and observe less demanding aspects of the faith. I love the liberal Protestant tradition of which I am a part, but I am embarrassed when Catholic and non-Christian friends ask me why there are so many Protestant denominations. Face it, denominations arose whenever Christian believers could not, or would not, resolve differences. It has always been easier to take one's doctrinal toys and go home than it has been to work out honest disagreement. My own home church thought a physical building was more important than unity, and thus the congregation split after our judicatory denied permission to rebuild after a fire totally destroyed our building. Admittedly, the locals in charge bungled how they announced the decision and would hear no appeals. But the building is not a church, the people are.
Finally, lest this rant leave one feeling depressed, I am more convinced than ever of the efficacy of the Christian message as a solution to the ills of the world. To all who scoff at the Bible or the message of Christ because they have not seen the Church behaving very well, I would encourage them to again look at the teaching of Jesus. He was, and is, the real deal, and he came to bring a new way. He should not be dismissed out of hand because God's people have done a poor job of communicating his message. So, my Christmas wish to you is for a new year filled with God's ever-new reality dawning on you anew each day. May Christ be revealed in unexpected and delightful ways to you in the new year, and may all of us be reasons that others decide to give the Gospel message another look. Merry Christmas!!!

Sunday, November 28, 2010

What To Do with Advent?

Well, we have finally arrived in the season of Advent. You know Advent, the season that arrives just after Black Friday and the day before Cyber-Monday. It's the season that many folks would just as soon skip, as it means a four-week wait until Christmas. So what is one to do in the meantime? Well, that is exactly what Advent is all about: what do we do in the meantime? "What meantime?" you may ask. The meantime between the first coming of God's messiah and the coming of God's ultimate kingdom. "Oh. Can't we just sing Christmas carols and pretend that Advent is already past?" Come on, admit it, you were thinking that, weren't you? The vast majority of Christians whom I have met over the years cannot get excited about Advent. And yet, for me, it is the most promising of the seasons of the Christian year. I was thinking back today, while I was sitting in church listening to a pastor skip right over Advent, to my first year in parish ministry. I recall how excited I was to lead worship during those Sundays in Advent. My congregations were not as excited, as I had replaced the usual four-week festival of carols with Advent hymns. Well, I was twenty-five and I am sure that they assumed that I would grow out of it. I have not grown out of it, though I admit to fudging a bit because we are not in session at the college for the whole season of Advent, so I let a carol or two into the service because our chapel family will not be together to sing them at the proper time.
More than ever before, I have been aware this past year of the creeping agnosticism that has pervaded the lives of many people with whom I work, both students and professionals. I wonder how much of it has to do with our insistence on immediate gratification? Since the Advent season is all about the promise of what is to come, folks cannot wait and so give up. What they forget, however, is that Advent is about one promise fulfilled and one still to come. God came to earth incarnate, and so, the promise of the fulfillment of the Kingdom is valid and worthy of belief. I hear so many people say that God does not exist, or, at least, that God is rather useless. Again, that insistence on immediate gratification is at work, claiming that God has let down humanity because evil still reigns in the world. There is no doubt that evil does reign in many places, and in the hearts of many people. And that is God's fault? The message of Advent promises a new world, where justice and equality are the standard. However, justice and equality are threats to power structures, and will always be so. Just as Advent calls for us to believe in a new way, so does justice insist that things that have always been must change. But folks are loath to accept change unless there is a personal, tangible benefit. This year, during the Black Friday craziness that I think shows America at its worst, people were interviewed by local news stations as to why they put up with the craziness. Some admitted that it's a fun family tradition and not so much about the shopping as about the chance to be together. Others were exalting over the fact that they had purchased really neat gifts for themselves at tremendous savings. So, a large number of people do not believe in the promise of Advent or in a God who is real and relevant, but they are willing to believe the myth that retailers hand them that bargains galore await them if they will simply alter their lifestyles for a day and do the bidding of the big box icons by getting up in the middle of the night. Few people get the actual bargains, and the whole travesty of the shopping addiction having something to do with the Christmas message is allowed to play on, and on. We need Advent's message, if for no other reason than to save us from ourselves.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Another Christ the King Sunday. Luke 1:63 - 69

As we approach the Sunday of Christ the King, I cannot help but wonder just what kind of king do we think he is? During the past week I have had occasion to think carefully about the faith that I espouse. I have been asked why I believe what I believe, and have responded to others who wonder why anyone would choose religious faith or which truth is really THE truth. These are good questions, to be sure, and I think people who call themselves Christians should not refuse to think seriously about the questions that those who are skeptical of faith in general, and Christianity in particular, may ask. While responding to a friend who wondered about how one can know which "truth" to follow, I found myself offering an answer that just came out of my head, quite easily. I told the friend that Christianity is the faith that called me. It is not the faith I chose to follow, it chose me. I was not raised in a religious home, though we were sent to church each week. I had to make my own decisions as to what would be important to me as a young man. My church was where I felt safe, respected and loved for who I was. It may have been the only place in my young life where I felt that way. Once I became active in the church, the faith element took over. The Christian message called to me to be a pastor, to be one who helped others to feel accepted and loved. Let me say that I have performed that duty quite imperfectly over the course of my life, but, at times, I have managed to get it right. How that has been possible lies, I think, in a truth that Brian Stoffregen, another blogger, highlighted. "I believe that one of the great, unique features of Christianity is that it is a religion of God coming down to us, rather than most other religions where we have to raise ourselves up to a godly plane." As a young man I was too full of self-doubt to ever believe that God would think I was worthy to do any kind of work for the Kingdom. I know that most young people, middle-aged and older folks also feel that way quite often. And there, I think, lies the definition of the kind of king we celebrate this Sunday. Jesus was not like Saul, David or Solomon and their tenures as kings of Israel. The kingship of Christ is one of love and inclusion, not one that calls attention to the power and status of the king. I was viewing some Christian clip art today, looking for an appropriate image for Christ the King Sunday, and I was disappointed that so many of the images lifted Christ up and played on the "Christus Victor" image. That image has long been accepted by the church when the church has attempted to explain how Christ overcame death and sin. I prefer the image of the insider who became as an outsider, which is the key to understanding the prophets of the Hebrew Bible, who deliberately took upon themselves the identity of outsiders, thus representing a God who loved all people. Christ the King Sunday is a time to reaffirm our belief in the very un-king-like Christ, who was God incarnate, coming down to our level, not insisting the we ascend to God's level. Christ the King assures that every young woman and man, and every old man and woman have an advocate who already loves them and accepts them, imperfect as they may be.

Monday, November 1, 2010

A Wee Little Man? Luke 19: 1 - 10

We all learned the song, "Zacchaeus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he, he climbed up in a sycamore tree, for the Lord he wanted to see....." You know the rest. I have always focused on Zacchaeus' role as a tax collector, and the negative community relations that were caused by that profession. Nothing new there. However, this year I discovered an article by Roberta Bondi in which she recounted a sermon she heard back in the 1970's that changed forever the way she reads this story. She was listening to a preacher, himself a man lacking physical stature, who read the story from Luke, changing just one word in the text. The text as written, states "He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature." Bondi recounts how the preacher changed the end of the sentence to "because Jesus was short in stature.". He defended his choice by stating, correctly, that the Greek does not define to whom "he" refers. Of course, it makes the most sense to read it as referring to Zacchaeus, but there is no rule that says that one must do that. Bondi makes the point that, if Jesus is the short guy in this story, it messes with our mental images of God. Have we ever watched a film where Jesus was portrayed as a wee little man? The closest the movies have come to offering such a portrayal is "Jesus Christ Superstar" in the guise of Ted Neeley portraying Jesus. The only problem I have with Neeley's Jesus persona is that he continues to portray him, though he must be at least sixty years of age, and Jesus lived to be about thirty-three!
We think of Jesus as a tall, Caucasian, good-looking man who would cause women to swoon. Never mind that Isaiah contains a passage that states that the coming messiah would not have any physical qualities that would cause people to want to look at him. We can handle Zacchaeus being really short, but could Jesus have been puny as well? Our whole Christus Victor mindset demands that Jesus be a strong and commanding presence. Imagine meeting Jesus in the next life and stating "I always imagined you as being taller!"
Sadly, our perception of what is an acceptable image of God is tied in to our idea of acceptable images of people. America finally elected a black man as president, and, his political failings aside, it is hard to believe that all of the Tea Party hoopla has nothing to do with his race. Women are still objectified, and in some Christian denominations, they are told to be subservient to men. Good thing God is not a woman or of another race, huh? Truth is, we tend to think of God as looking like us. And any attempt on the part of anyone else to change that perception is taken as a threat. It's very personal. Zacchaeus was a wee little man, but surely Jesus was not. Right?

Saturday, October 16, 2010

What Kind of Jesus?

I have not written in this space for a while because I have been mulling over a question that re-emerges for me, from time to time. I have been reading the latest expert advice regarding worship styles, what can cause a church to grow, how to change everything to appeal to those with short attention spans, etc. I do this every now and then to perform a kind of gut-check on my own theology and worship practices. I read an article this week, written by a seminary professor, extolling the virtues of contemporary worship, and recalling the times that he "sat through church, never participating." I assume that he blamed his lack of participation on the style of worship, and not on his own unwillingness to be involved. I once heard a pastor comment that someone had told him that he had not gotten anything out of worship. The pastor then asked him, "Well, what did you put into it?"
Having attended college at the end of the "Jesus Movement", I was quite active in worship groups and lamented the fact that I had never learned to play the guitar. Aside from enabling me to be a part of worship musical leadership, guitars also seemed to be babe magnets. In a line from a famous film, "I couldda been a contendah!" My involvement in the worship and praise music of that time gives me the right to say that I don't think the direction of current worship trends is a good one. Churches are buying in to the belief that they have to give the consumer what he or she wants, at any cost. Truth is, for many churches, that's the reality. Churches are closing and people are giving up on organized religion as they have known it. Having spent nearly a lifetime on college and university campuses, I have heard all of the reasons for abandoning the tradition. I have heard the laments from students and faculty alike. I understand the frustration and the desire for something tangible to grasp on to, something better than "faith," whatever that is. However, at some point we have to stop and ask ourselves what kind of Jesus we think we follow. The vapid narcissism of some of today's praise music can lead one to believe that Jesus cares about only me, because I sing about just him and me. Jesus shares my political beliefs, likes my friends and approves of the causes which I support. Many contemporary worship services use no forms of the ancient creeds of the church, and song lyrics are projected on screens, because we don't want to confuse anyone by making him/her read hymns with musical notes. The church is very close to becoming a flavor of the month, which may help increase attendance for the short term. But what is happening to the church, and its vision of its founders, over the long term? What kind of Jesus do we want to follow? We want a Jesus who looks, walks, sings, parties and believes as we do. It's not a new phenomenon for the church. Turn on the TV and listen, if you can, to the hot evangelists who pontificate and ask for lots of money. Aside from asking us to part with our cash, they call for no sacrifices, but instead try to convince us that, by selling out to them, we will become a part of the elect. And who does not want to feel special and a part of the in-crowd? If I had learned to play a guitar, I could have been cool. Or not. The churches that are growing the fastest do some things very well, including making people feel welcome and comfortable. I have asked students which church they think Jesus would choose, if indeed he would even choose a church. After all, he was Jewish and would probably prefer to attend Temple. But, for the sake of argument, would he attend a mega-church or a little storefront or rickety country church that was barely hanging on. I will let you guess what their answer has most often been.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

What Is There to Say?

Is there anyone who has not been exposed to the ghastly details of the Petit Family murders in Connecticut? The trial of the first of the two accused murderers began last week, and the news is full almost daily of new details of the horrible events three years ago that led to the near-fatal beating of Dr. William Petit and the torture and murder of his wife Jennifer and daughters Hayley and Michaela. Though it has been more than three years since the murders, making sense of any of it has not come for this writer. I doubt that it ever shall. Even when we can say that God's gracious granting of free will means that we can use that freedom for good, or evil, it does nothing to lessen the horror of the terrible deaths of three women who, by all accounts, led exemplary lives and were loved by many. The question that has haunted me, and others with whom I have spoken, is this: Where was God when those women were exposed to the most terrible abuse and then set ablaze? I recall reading Night, by Eli Wiesel, where he describes the horror of being a child in a concentration camp and watching, helplessly, as the Nazis hanged a young boy as a lesson to the other prisoners. Wiesel heard someone cry out, "Where is God?" From within himself, Wiesel heard a silent voice say, "God is there, on the gallows." One can take that to mean that God was with that child in the moment of his death. One can also understand it to mean that God died on that gallows, along with that child. I want to believe the first example, that God was there and did not allow that child to be alone. The end result? The child died an agonizing death. Jennifer, Hayley and Michaela died painful deaths, one by strangulation and two by fire and smoke inhalation. Did it make a difference to those dear souls that God was there with them? I don't know. I think that there are times when all we can do is be silent and hope, and wonder and pray. If Christian faith teaches us anything, it is that the righteous die or are murdered and it is unjust. We must admit that we work from our own ideas of justice and fairness and what is right, not God's. Since God witnessed God's own child being executed for doing nothing wrong, we can assume that God knows of our existential plight. But does that change anything? Does anyone really think that what happened to the Petit family was God's will, that, somehow, a greater good will be served by what happened in Cheshire three summers ago?
I work at an institution of higher education, and a very good one. We strive everyday to arrive at certainty about some things. This matter, though, to quote Abraham Lincoln, is "beyond our poor powers to add or detract." The perpetrators are on trial for murder and may face the death penalty. And if they are sentenced to death and the orders are someday carried out, in less horrific circumstances than those of their victims, will justice have been served? Will it change anything? The loss of the Petit family member's lives is permanent, and nothing can change that. If there is peace for them in a life beyond this one, does it make what happened to them any less terrible? No, it does not. People will continue to die at the hands of individuals, and gangs and governments, and it will never be made right in this world. So, what are people of faith to do? We can only stand in silence, and hope, and wonder and pray.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Islam and the World Trade Center Site, Redux

The issue of the Islamic Center near (yes, near, it is not right across the street!) the World Trade Center site continues to percolate in the media. But now, a little known pastor from Florida has captured the word's attention by threatening to burn hundreds of copies of the Qur'an on the lawn of his church. Now he is demanding to meet with leaders and is basically telling persons in government and real estate that, if they do not accede to his wishes, he will burn the holy books. I have this nagging question that will not go away: Why is he receiving all of this media attention? Has it occurred to anyone that, had the media not jumped on this, he would not even be a blip on the radar of the word's concerns? Could we spend just a fraction of the time and ink that has been given to this man to say that the media created this firestorm, yet they portray themselves as performing a public service in covering it non-stop. I have written before on this blog that an
Islamic Center near the World Trade Center site could be a real step forward in efforts to promote inter-religious understanding. What, Muslims are off-limits in those few square blocks of downtown Manhattan? Did all of their adherents commit the atrocities of September 11, 2001? No. Matter of fact, NONE of their adherents carried out those heinous acts. Islamic extremists should not be lumped in with religious Muslims in the United States, or anywhere else, anymore than Christian extremists like Pat Robertson and Franklin Graham should be lumped together with all Christians. Remember Pat Robertson's comments, along with the late Jerry Falwell, that the events of Sept. 11, 2001 were the result of God's judgment against homosexuals and those who permit abortions? Why does a pastor of a little church in Central Florida have the right to call the shots, and receive attention from national leaders trying to appease him? We were founded as a nation that values the freedom of religion, and of its citizens to worship, or not worship. This whole business reflects a reality that things are out of balance, and that extremism in various sectors is driving the media and public sentiment. Islam, Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism Buddhism..and the other major world religions advocate peace and understanding, no matter how a few ill-intentioned or ill-informed adherents may seek to have us believe otherwise. I am tempted to print up a tee-shirt with the words, "Self-avowed, Practicing Mainline Protestant." The Christian faith that I follow is a proud tradition, and must not to be left to extremists to interpret. Rev. Terry Jones and I do not belong to the same faith tradition, no matter what he would have you believe.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Lions and Tigers and Stephen Hawking. Oh My!

To no one's surprise, the news today is rife with the news of Stephen Hawking's declaration that it was gravity, not God that created the universe. In fairness to Hawking, this latest declaration was just a logical outcome of work that he had already been doing concerning the origins of the universe. Has anyone stopped to consider that Hawking makes this declaration as a physicist and not as a theologian? Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks, of the UK, offers an insightful rejoinder to the whole discussion: "There is a difference between science and religion. Science is about explanation. Religion is about interpretation. Science takes things apart to see how they work. Religion puts things together to see what they mean. They are different intellectual enterprises." The truth of the matter is that this latest scientific pronouncement does little to change the beliefs of people on either side, and that is as it should be. Having said that, folks who take the creation story in Genesis as literal fact will have trouble with it. They will get lots of airtime on the major TV networks, I am sure. The television networks never consult mainstream theologians and biblical scholars, because those folks will not feed the frenzy with hyperbole. Instead, they will calmly reason that we are talking about apples and oranges here. Faith has never been about proof, though one may be hard pressed to find folks who crave the limelight who agree with that statement. Faith is about living with our realities in light of a belief in a loving and creating God. The element of mystery is essential to faith, for it keeps the element of the transcendent about it. I always loved science in high school and college, and have never had a problem with science and theology co-existing. Why must we feel that one must somehow make sense of the other? Though recently I heard someone excoriate the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews' assertion that "faith is the evidence of things not seen" I still agree with the concept. Faith is evidence, not proof. Why can't we live with that?

Friday, August 20, 2010

Ground Zero for Political Gain

We have become accustomed to referring to the site for the former World Trade Center as Ground Zero since the attacks in 2001. However, it seems that the area has become ground zero for new attacks, aimed, for whatever reason, at the American Islamic community. There is a plan afoot to renovate an existing building near the World Trade Center site and create a community center for the Muslim community in Manhattan. At first blush, one can understand that some folks may have to think twice about that. After all, the attacks of 2001 have forever changed the way many Americans think about the Muslims in general. It is understandable, but it is not alright to use the fears and misconceptions for political gain. Our Constitution promises religious freedom for all who choose to practice such traditions, and that includes members of the Muslim community. Isn't there a way to look at an Islamic Cultural Center near the World Trade Center as a positive sign that we are moving beyond the horror of the attacks without forgetting them? There are churches and synagogues in the area, so why not a place for the building up of the Muslim community in that neighborhood. I cannot help but think that such a center would take it upon itself to educate the public about true Islam, and not the radical fundamentalist kind that brought the towers down. I have the joy of working with students from many religious traditions, including Muslim students. I believe that good, kind and peace-loving people like them would populate the center, if it is built. When some choose to decry such a center for political gain, they wound all devout Muslims, including the students who are a part of my extended family. There is an opportunity here to write a new chapter in the book of the American experience, a chance to promote healing and an opportunity for dialogue. Let's not miss it because we are too busy trying to show how patriotic we are.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Cool Atheism

Last year some posters appeared on our campus, advertising a group for those who were tired of the "lies and delusions" of religion. It caught the attention of some students who are active in the religious life program, and they were angry and felt that they had been insulted. They did some investigating and discovered that the group, which had created a Facebook page, had just three members. We never heard anymore about the group after those posters appeared, but I know for a fact that a significant number of students harbor, or think they harbor, the sentiments expressed on that poster. That is not a new phenomenon. I remember my freshman year of college, when I had pledged a fraternity. We had to interview all of the active brothers, and one of them was a philosophy major. Since I was a Bible/Religion major, he seemed to take special delight in asking me why I had such a strong faith, and then constructing well-reasoned arguments to show why I was foolish. As a first year student, I had not yet developed the skills necessary to at least stay away from the trapdoors that a philosopher could set for me. I left the interview feeling angry, foolish and defensive. The "new" atheism that seems to be all the rage appears to have much the same effect on people of faith. They can be made to feel defensive, or, at the very least, stupid and gullible. I have even heard this new phenomenon referred as "evangelical atheism." Daniel C. Dennett, a Tufts University philosophy professor has just published a study, "Preachers Who Are Not Believers," published in the journal "Evolutionary Psychology". It includes interviews with five anonymous Protestant ministers who no longer believe in God in the traditional sense. Though he uses that as fodder for calling them at least agnostic, not all of his subjects agree with him.
One of those interviewed "came out" in the press and released his name. He serves as a campus minister at a well-known university. He says he still believes in God, but not the God who sits on a throne in the sky. To him, God is a process of mysterious cosmic creativity that makes for greater love and justice. He thinks of God as a force working within human beings and nature, and he sees his role as trying to imitate that divine character whose greatest exemplar is Jesus. I think there are many Christians who agree with what he says about his own beliefs. Those on the right would call such people agnostics, and those on the far left would welcome them as fellow non-believers of a sort. When I was in divinity school, we used to joke that we could never preach what we learned in our Bible and theology classes. People in the pews would simply pass out, or worse! Dennett plans to interview many more clergy and publish a larger study about clergy who, to his way of thinking, have ceased to be believers. But does admitting that one's faith is not so simplistic as it once was mean that one has ceased believing? In the coming year, I hope to facilitate discussions between those who consider themselves people of faith and those who define themselves as atheists or non-believers. It's the only way to move past the name-calling and misunderstandings. And perhaps people on both sides will come away with a broader understanding of what "faith" means.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Heaven

Mary Chapin Carpenter wrote a song several years back entitled "My Heaven," in which she included the line, "your childhood pet in Dad's old chair." The song is her vision of what Heaven might be like, and it is full of familiar images to her, and to many of us. I just finished reading Lisa Miller's Heaven:Our Enduring Fascination with the Afterlife, and I found it to be a really good summertime read. She does not claim to be a scholar of religions, though she is the religion editor for Newsweek. She interviewed dozens of theologians, thinkers and writers from the three major monotheistic religions, and has done what I think is a good job of sifting out some salient observations about heaven. Is it a place, or a state of being? Why is it that the vision of heaven for many Muslims, Christians and Jews seems to be the same place? And what of Miller's conclusion that, for her, at least, heaven is not a place, but a dynamic state of being when people love and feel loved and also experience a sense of the transcendent? For years I have taught an undergraduate course on death and dying. Before that, I led eight bereavement support groups, advised or worked on the volunteer staffs of four hospice programs, led workshops on bereavement support and also presided at an abnormally high number of funerals during my early years in the parish. So, death is something to which I have given much thought. As I get older, I find that I have few answers about death, and even fewer certainties. And to those who would say, "What do you mean you have few certainties about death? Are you not a Christian, sir?" Yes, I am a Christian, and as such, I have certainty that I can never be separated from the love of God through Christ Jesus my Lord. But, let's face it, much is left up for grabs when it comes to what happens when we die. Americans have a particularly American way of describing heaven, with streets of gold and deciduous trees and verdant meadows everywhere. When I was in my mid-thirties, I traveled to Jordan, Israel and Palestine.I discovered rather quickly that my ideas of Jesus' world were steeped in the Chestnut Ridge of the Allegheny Mountains in which I grew up. Aside from Nazareth, where Jesus spent his childhood, his world was dusty and semi-arid. I felt like an alien in that climate and terrain. Why? Because I had painted a picture in my mind that the world of Jesus looked just like my world. I think we do the same with our idea of heaven, not to mention our idea of God. Yes, I have an idea of heaven in my mind, but it is muddled. I guess that's because I have never given much thought to the afterlife. While I think that life after death is the icing on the cake, too many sincere people of faith think it is THE cake. I have tried to spend my time helping to represent, however imperfectly, the God that I serve and to help others to feel that love that emanates from God. For Miller, that is part of what she means by heaven. I think I agree.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

A Civilized Society?

Last week, the state of Utah executed a death row inmate by firing squad. I find it curious that a state known for its conservative Mormon religious ethos that emphasizes the sanctity of human life would be known for such a brutal method of execution. But then, many religious people support capital punishment. After all, does not the Bible say "An eye for an eye?" Folks love to quote that verse, forgetting, or ignoring the fact that Jesus quoted that verse and then followed it with "But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile." There you have it: a rule so contrary to our way of thinking that we choose to ignore it. Christian people continue to stand outside of prisons where executions are carried out and cheer the result. The most conservative Christian states, such as Texas, Virginia and Florida, are the states who carry out the greatest number of executions.
So, it begs the question: Why do we execute criminals who have killed others? Well, because it serves as a deterrent to repeat crimes, right? Wrong. There is no research to support the theory that capital punishment deters violent crime. Well then, the Bible commands us to do it, right? The scripture cited above shows the house of cards upon which that argument is built. Well then, why DO so many Americans support capital punishment? Well, fear, for one. The majority of persons on death row in America are African American. Most were unable to afford the kind of defense team that would have been more effective in offering an adequate defense. And for White America, people of color are the "other" and many people tend to be suspicious of those who appear to be strangers or outsiders. There is not space here to discuss the role of the outsider in the story of our faith, but I will give you a hint: in scripture, the "other" often turns out to be an agent of God's grace. But back to our question of why we take such delight in executing people. I have believed for many years that it comes down to one simple fact: it makes us feel better. We don't know what to do with people who commit horrible crimes, so we kill them. And somehow we look away from the fact that, in carrying out an execution, the state acts with the same premeditated coldness as that of the offenders whom it is putting to death. Why do you think there have been no live broadcast of an execution? Might it be because, if Americans actually viewed the horror of an execution, including the supposedly humane lethal injection method, they might just reject capital punishment as a solution to violent crime? Yes, we are a civilized society. And that is what frightens me the most.

Monday, June 14, 2010

On Being the Father of the Bride

Recently, I had the experience of walking my daughter down the aisle at her wedding. I don't think that any father has an idea beforehand of what that experience feels like. I was told that some folks had placed bets on when, exactly, I would lose it. As it turned out, I did not cry, which is saying something for a dad who has always teared up when talking about his daughter to others. In hindsight, I know why the tears really never fell in quantity: it was much too happy an occasion for such to happen. My daughter and her new husband have had a long courtship, and the love and friendship between them has been evident to anyone who has ever seen them together. And the ceremony was a service of Christian marriage, and I know how important my daughter's faith has always been to her. So, it was a day for joy, not tears. I have admitted to biting the insides of my cheeks during most of the ceremony, however. If you have not guessed as much by now, I did not perform the wedding. My daughter wanted me to be the father of the bride for the whole day, and it was indeed a privilege to be just that. When I look at the photos of my daughter in her wedding gown, I am struck by her radiance. She has always been beautiful and photogenic, so that is not a surprise. But there is a look in her eyes and in her smile that tells anyone who sees the photo that she is having the time of her life. Several times during the wedding and reception she commented on how unbelievably happy she was. The way in which she made the remark reminded me of a child who makes a new discovery in a meadow of flowers: the expression was one of joy and wonder. There is nothing else in all the world that I could wish for her on her wedding day that would exceed those emotions. I have often referred to the saying "God danced on the day that you were born" when speaking about my daughter. Now, I believe that God also enjoys a good wedding dance! Thanks be to the One who is eternal and whose love never ends, and who enables mothers and fathers and sons and daughters to share in a love that is unending.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

A Time for Breathing

Classes have ended at my institution, as have the weekly chapel services at which I officiate. So, I will not be working on weekly biblical texts for a while. However, I will still write here on occasion over the summer months, as topics come to mind, or as times occur when I feel like just spouting off! In the meantime, may you enjoy the coming days of warmth and flowers and summer showers. Peace be with you.

Friday, May 7, 2010

If Not Now, When? Revelation 21:10, 22- 22:5

I teach a religious studies course on Christian social justice, and one of the topics we address is restorative justice. Unlike our criminal justice system, which seeks to punish only, restorative justice seeks to bring all parties together: offender, victim and a mediator. Three central questions frame the proceedings: Who was harmed, what are their needs, and whose obligations are these? The majority of my students do not like restorative justice, they think that it lets a criminal off too easily. Fact is, we have all been so inculcated with the idea that criminals should get what they deserve that it is very difficult to get beyond that thinking and on to a new way of dealing with crime and punishment. The lesson from Revelation continues the theme of the new Jerusalem, and makes the point that those who reside there will not even need the sun or moon, for God's glory will provide adequate lighting. The new Jerusalem will be nothing like what our life experience has been so far. It will be so radically different, in fact, that I think it can only be summed up in a phrase that comes from an old spiritual slave song: When you get to heaven, rub poor lil' Judas's head, (Delores S. Williams, The Christian Century, Oct. 24, 1990. So, the new Jerusalem will be so unlike what we are used to that even someone such as Judas can be accepted and forgiven there? What gives?
Actually, this is nothing new. Christians tend to forget that Jesus forgave even his executioners. Sadly, many people who speak in the name of their faith, saying, "An eye for an eye" when asking for punishment for an offender forget a vital truth: Jesus took that phrase and changed it by continuing on and encouraging us to "turn the other cheek." But that part of the passage is never repeated when folks are seeking revenge, or crying out for criminals to "get what they deserve." Recently, our home was burglarized, and, in addition to computers and other electronics, the thieves took a good deal of heirloom jewelry that can never be replaced. Those items represented gifts that I had given to my wife, the rings for our daughter's upcoming wedding, and items handed down from relatives, now deceased. Just this week came word that the burglars had been caught in the act of robbing another home in our area. The charges are being consolidated, since they committed many robberies. They sit in jail now, awaiting further charges and action. I am haunted, constantly, by the questions that restorative justice asks. Even if we were to drop our charges, they will still go to jail because there are so many other charges against them. But I cannot help but think that some kind of effort in the name of restorative justice can have even a small positive effect. It may be something as simple as visiting one or the other in prison, risking their rejection of my effort. Most people with whom I have spoken say that they deserve jail time, and alot of it.
We are not yet at the point when we can imagine rubbing "poor lil' Judas's head" when we arrive in heaven. We are not yet at the point when we can embrace willingly the precepts of the restorative justice movement. We are not yet ready for the conditions of living that are a part of the new Jerusalem. Even as I write these words, I cannot forget the words uttered first by Gandhi, and echoed by Dr. King, "If not now, when?"

Friday, April 30, 2010

The New Jerusalem Revelation 21:1-6

I remember retreating to my high school library during study hall so that I could read Hal Lindsay's Late, Great Planet Earth. The book was a feast of modern-day interpretations of the text of the book of Revelation. It confirmed what Americans had suspected: Red China and the Soviet Union together comprised the beast mentioned in the apocalypse. Lindsay managed to associate many other countries and personalities with major themes in Revelation. I can offer a defense of my reading such a book: I didn't know better. Now I do, and so do many other Christians who have done even the most rudimentary Bible study. But, as the "Left Behind" series attests, folks still like the spooky "God is going to rub out the bad guys and take only we chosen Christians" way of looking at the world.
Chapter 21 mentions the New Jerusalem, which, to my way of thinking, means that the City of God has no resemblance to anything that we have formulated in our theologies and thoughts. But we still create our ideas of what it will be like to be with God, after we die, or when the world ends. As the Reverend Ike used to say, "I want apple pie in the sky when I die." Well, actually his was a prosperity gospel, so he wanted the apple pie now. Think Joel Osteen, with less greasy hair!
It is no coincidence that this passage from Revelation is offered during the season of Easter. If resurrection is about anything, it is about things turning out in ways we never expected. Easter is beyond comprehension, and so is the New Jerusalem. We should think of the New Jerusalem not as a place that we can go to when we die, but a place that comes to us. How so? As Brian Peterson phrases it, "We do not go to God, God comes to us." The Revelation to John was written to offer hope to a church under persecution, something we American Christians like to feign when someone disagrees with us, but, in reality, something that we do not experience. Salvation is found not in places, like cities, but wherever God is present. The New Jerusalem may not be a place, but, rather, an encounter with the living God through Christ.
I once spoke to a group of students who identified themselves as evangelical Christians. I asked them if they thought that salvation could have to do with this world. Only two persons out of 50 thought that salvation could relate to this life, and not just life after death. When I pressed them further and asked if Christ came for the whole world, they cautiously said yes. When I asked them if they agreed with the quote "The task of the Christian is not to save the world, but to tell the world that it has already been saved" I had a near riot on my hands. We like the idea of the new Jerusalem being a place, because that means that we can set up rules and keep some folks out of there. If the new Jerusalem has to do, instead, with the re-creation of humanity, we get uneasy, because it implies that we must do something now, rather than later, in the sky, after we die, to help bring it about. And so we wait, and read books and allow TV preachers to scare the wits out of us. It beats venturing out and meeting all kinds of people who have just one thing in common: they all belong to God, and will be residents in the new Jerusalem.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Lest We Turn Others into Sheep - John 10:22-30

Like many pastors before me, I have often used the occasion of this scripture passage appearing in the lectionary as an opportunity to once again remind people that it is not a great complement to be referred to as sheep. So, I am not going to take that tack this year. Instead, I want to look at the passage, and the whole idea of being God's sheep as a comforting thought, which is what I think the original intent of the image, and the passage was. The lectionary pairs Psalm 23 with the John passage, which is one of the better connections made by a device that sometimes mystifies me as from whence came the rationale to have selected some scripture passages that don't seem to have the slightest family relationship to other passage with which they have been paired.
Psalm 23 was the first scripture passage I ever memorized. I was asked to do so for a program at our church when I was a very young boy. It was a major production, as far as I was concerned, and, as I remember it, I got most of it right that night for the program. What touches me more about the passage in the context of that program is the memory of that church and its people. My home church was a place of great comfort to me as a child and adolescent. For that reason, the imagery of Psalm 23 always calls to mind that place and those people. The fact that the church was destroyed by fire when I was fourteen and the congregation split as a result of a rift over the decision not to rebuild the church makes the memory all that much sweeter, because the physical place is gone. Perhaps because of that wonderful nurturing faith community, I catch myself when I am tempted to turn others into sheep, not looking deeply to see their uniqueness or their joy or their hurt. Sheep tend to all look and behave alike to non-shepherds, and Psalm 23 is an assurance to us that God never views us as a herd, but as individuals, in need of loving care and pastoral respite. I can think of no greater comfort than to "lie down in green pastures" because God comforts us in whatever ways we need to be comforted, and such love and care make it difficult (or should make it difficult) for us to look past the needs of those all around us, dismissing them as a part of the herd.

Friday, April 2, 2010

The Most Misunderstood Holidays in the Christian Year

I write this on a gorgeous Good Friday morning. The campus is quiet, and even though we do not have an Easter break, this place will be rather empty in a few hours, as students retreat to spend time with their families. Later, I will lead a quiet prayer service. And then I will spend a quiet weekend with my family. I have always loved the spirit of Holy Week, and by the time I get to Easter Sunday, I do feel a sense of rejuvenation and hopefulness. However, the reason that I feel that way may differ from the reasons that many Christians would use to explain their sense of joy on Easter.
I cannot separate Good Friday from Easter, and have never been able to do that. For many, Good Friday is a downer and it is best to move on to Easter as quickly as possible. While serving my first parish, I was part of a ministerial association that sponsored an annual seven-part Good Friday service. The service was held in one church, so it did not move from church to church as some services do today. Each half-hour segment was a self-contained worship service, with hymns, prayers and homilies. I recall that one year I was the last preacher of the day, the last one to preach about the significance of the day we were living. Enter the preacher before me. He got up and chastised the congregation for being bummed on Good Friday. After all, Easter Sunday meant that Good Friday did not matter. It was "good" because the resurrection was coming. I don't recall what I said during my homily, but he made the task much more difficult, I'm sure.
I tend to look at the equation from the opposite direction: Easter makes no sense without Good Friday. In the crucifixion, God touched earth with compassion and empathy and a willingness to experience all that is common to men and women. The joy of Easter, for me, has to do with the fact that there is nothing that I must face in this life that God does not understand. Death is not the great destroyer, because God knows the pain of a loved one's death. I am a person of deep faith, but my father's death devastated me, and no amount of theologizing about it made the pain lessen in the least. But I did have this assurance from deep within that his death would not destroy me and that I did not have to bear it alone. When I die, my children will not have to bear the pain alone, either. The God of Good Friday and Easter will be there too, and they will come to understand the connection of the one day to the other.
So, may you experience a Good Friday of deep meaning and quiet assurance, and may Easter affirm for you, and for all, that resurrection has to do with the eternal presence and faithfulness of a God whose love we can never fully imagine.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Whom Are We Welcoming?

I have decided to observe Palm/Passion Sunday a bit differently this year. In years past, I have focused on the "passion" part of the observance, tying in the inherent paradox of the would-be-king with the common criminal who would be executed on the following Friday. While there is no way to separate the kingly-criminal element of Holy Week, nor should there be, it can be instructive to ask ourselves a question that needs to be asked over and over again: just who is it that we are welcoming? I ask this question in light of a report I heard on NPR today about a dust-up that is brewing in the Southern Baptist church over a new book by Brian McLaren: A New Kind of Christianity: Ten Questions That Are Transforming the Faith. McLaren has done a good deal of work looking at the so-called emergent church movement, and he has ruffled a number of evangelical feathers with his new book. His understanding of the Jesus of faith has begun to diverge from the orthodox evangelical understanding of Jesus as the necessary blood sacrifice for our atonement. McLaren sees the crucifixion more as God willingly taking on the role of the victim and identifying with the suffering. Those who disagree with McLaren decry such an understanding and despair of such a God ever providing a solid reason for entrusting one's everlasting soul to said God. The fact that McLaren hints that those who do not follow Christ are not lost seems to be the final straw for those who hold onto the traditions of an orthodox faith.
So, back to the heading on this blog today: what kind of Jesus do we welcome? Understood one way, the Palm Sunday procession exemplifies the triumphalism of a ruling king who showers favor upon those who follow and casts out those who do not believe in him. However, if one reads the whole account of that day, one discovers that Jesus was not caught up in excessive celebration and, in fact, wept that day. Perhaps he wept for all of the misunderstanding that was headed into the lives of his followers and for the city that he loved. Does he still weep for all who do not understand what it is he came to bring to earth? Does he weep for the rigid fundamentalists, the atheists, the disaffected theological liberals? Yes, I think that he does. This king who was welcomed so graciously on Sunday was executed on Friday, and little has changed in human nature regarding how quickly we will turn on God when we do not get our own way, when we perceive that God is not living up to the kind of exclusive faith that we think we should be entitled to. So, what kind of king will you be welcoming this Palm Sunday? One thing for sure: he is never the king that we think we are welcoming. And thank God that he isn't.

Friday, March 19, 2010

What Christians Do Best, or Worst.

The reader can decide, but I have come to the conclusion that the one thing that Christians do best, or the worst thing that Christians do, is to fight one another over doctrine. The issue came to mind when I was reading an article about the early in-fighting in the Eastern Church.In 449, the leaders of the Christian church met in Ephesus for debate on theological issues. According to Philip Jenkins, who teaches at Penn State, "At a critical moment, a band of monks and soldiers took control f the meeting hall, forcing the bishops to sign a blank paper on which the winning side later filled in its own favored statement.The document targeted the patriarch of Constantinople,Flavian....Yelling 'slaughter him!' a mob of monks attacked Flavian, beating him so badly that he died a few days later." Those who eventually came out on top during that meeting invalidated the whole council, referring to it as Latrocinium, which translates loosely as a Gangster Synod!
It is difficult not to read this account with a mixture of horror, and maybe even a little amusement, as one imagines a group of monkish thugs.But that slight amusement is tempered quickly when one thinks about the current state of the Christian Church. The ill-will and in-fighting has never stopped. On more than one occasion, Catholic students have asked me why there are so many Protestant denominations. I reply quickly, "Because we love to fight." I am only half-joking when I say that. My own experience as a youth was tainted by a rancorous split in my own congregation after we were refused permission to rebuild the church after a fire totally destroyed it. I have served parishes whose members had deep distrust, and even hatred, for one another. On my own campus, students siphon off attendees from my Sunday morning service so that they might attend a "true" church off-campus. What are we to think of this, and is there any solution? I don't know, and can only imagine that nothing will change until the return of Christ himself. In the meantime, I continue to be touched by something that a man who was a member of the first church that I ever served said in a Sunday school class. He was talking about a man for whom he had much dislike and to whom he could not bring himself even to say hello if they met on the street. Yet, he marveled, that when he saw that very same man in church on Sunday, in that very church that I was serving, he admitted that his feelings towards the man softened and he could even extend his hand and say "Good morning." It's not the answer to the problem of nasty Christians, but it is a start.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Sacred Space Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18

The passage from Genesis is full of images that are, at once, strange and beautiful. One should not try to write or speak about every part of the story. I, for one, will not be spending time this weekend imagining the various pieces of animal flesh surrounding Abram as fire passed between them. I just returned from a conference in North Carolina, and they have the best barbecue anyway. The part of the Genesis passage that appeals to me most is the portion where the Lord takes Abram out alone and asks him to look at the stars and to try to number them, for such will be the number of his descendants. One of my fondest memories from my youth was of a stargazing expedition which was a part of a Boy Scout weekend at out troop's cabin. Several of us were accompanied by our scout leaders to a field, with nothing but flashlights and star charts as equipment. I can still remember the silence, the almost supernatural stillness of that night. Our cabin was isolated, and the sky was pitch black, except for millions of twinkling stars. I mention this experience because it was a time in which I sensed the presence of God so keenly. I think the Genesis passage gives us an opportunity to ask ourselves the following question:"When or where do I sense God's presence in a way that is true in no other place?" Do we have places that are set apart, where we feel a sense of something supernatural so strongly that it changes us anew each time we are there? Why do we sense it? How do we explain it, if we can, in fact, do so? When we find ourselves in that place, do we seem to have a different sense about ourselves than we do when we reside in other places? Does the time spent in those special places enable us to accomplish things as a result of being there that we are not as able, or willing to do otherwise?
I believe that these questions might have been asked by Abram, because theophanies tend to cause such introspection. However, my recent trip back to a place that has been significant to me for all of my adult life had no light shows or flames in the night. Rather, it was so much like my childhood experience of stargazing: there was just an assurance of a presence of One beyond myself and others. The One who was present was simply reminding me of all that has transpired in my life thus far, and of the experiences, good and bad, that have made me the person that I am. I live my life in the midst of an academic community that bustles everyday, and students do not have much opportunity for solitude. I worry sometimes that they do not know how to handle silence, and so, do not seek it out. There is a danger, then, that they may have difficulty finding the kind of sacred space in which the presence of Another is undeniable. Perhaps the story of Abram can entice them to want to find such a place.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Another Ash Wednesday

One knows that one has lived a long time when the beginning of the Lenten season comes to mind as "another Ash Wednesday." In my first parish after divinity school, the people were quite surprised when I suggested that we have an Ash Wednesday service. It took about three years before they were ready to get on-board with the idea. Then, as now, the perception was that Ash Wednesday is something that Catholics do. Every year, at least one of the local news stations will cover the Ash Wednesday observances at local churches and will refer to it "a day day for Catholics to reflect on the Lenten season." On my own college campus, it is an effort each year to try to get some Protestants to attend the ecumenical service that we offer.
The fact is, Lent is a Christian, not a Catholic observance. The Catholic Church has been much more faithful in its observance of the season than have Protestants, though the Protestant community is catching up, slowly. Many students, Protestant and Catholic, fret about what they will "give up" for Lent. After all, it should not be something that will hurt too much, and some things are not even on the table for discussion: chocolate, coffee, beer. Others scoff at the idea of giving up something, saying that it does not mean anything to do so. Some have stated that Lent should be a time to take on something new, such as a discipline, or a service project, or a fitness regimen.
I think that whatever one decides to do to observe Lent is important, because it means that one has made a conscious decision to at least do something. Many Christians do not want to be "brought down" by having to think about the painful part of the gospel narratives. They love Christmas and Easter, but don't care much for Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.
Yes, it's another Ash Wednesday, and I will observe it as a holy day, and the beginning of a season where I have yet another opportunity to so some serious meditation on my faith and my life. Some would say that I should do that everyday, not just during a season on the church calendar. In an ideal world, that would be the standard. But I am human, fallible and prone to lapses at times. So, for me, Lent is a season to look within myself, with all of my imperfections, and to know that God is with me. So, thanks be for another Ash Wednesday.

Monday, February 1, 2010

A God Too Familiar? Isaiah 6:1-8

We were having a conversation at my house over the weekend about the way in which people refer to God. My daughter recalled a time when she was in a group and the leader of worship asked everyone to join him in prayer, and he began the prayer by saying, "Hi Dad." I remembered a time, as well, when I was in a large worship setting and the leader introduced a prayer time by saying, "Let's talk to Dad." For some, such familiar salutations for God call to mind the literal meaning of a word that Jesus used to address God, which was "Abba." Abba can be translated Father or even Daddy.
Since I always referred to my late father as "Dad," I don't feel comfortable using such a title for the Almighty. I should also say that I go to great lengths to remove any references to God that ascribe gender, because I believe that using such pronouns as He or She, or names such as Father or Mother limit our ability to imagine a God that does not fit into any of our preconceived categories. It may come as a surprise to some who know me that I rather like the image of the Almighty that Isaiah witnessed in his dream. In that vision, God sat on a throne, high and lifted up, and the mere edge of God's robe filled the entire Temple. Now there is an image of God that cannot be boiled down to a folksy Dad. So, is that a bad thing then? This writer does not think so.
Our culture is not easily awed, because everything is made so familiar. We have e-mail, social networking, texting. Even small children refer to adults by their first names, when those of us of a certain age always referred to our elders as Mr. or Mrs. It is hard not to like informal address from children, because it means that said child feels comfortable around adults and feels that adults are people to whom the little one can relate. But are there are times when a child should address an adult as Mr. or Mrs. or by a title? And is there not still room for a sense of formality, or awe, in our worship? In thinking about the ways in which God was envisioned in ancient times, Darrell Jodock, writing in The Christian Century, observed that "For half a century, Isaiah would guide the people of Judah through a crisis that they were religiously unprepared to face. His encounter with God is telling. God is "sitting on a throne, high and lofty." .... This God is much more exalted than the domesticated deity worshiped during Judah's period of power and prosperity. In the presence of this God even attending seraphs cover their faces and their feet. Isaiah can only say, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!"
The whole concept of religious belief is under attack in popular culture and atheism is often thought of as cool,especially on college and university campuses. Such a belief in non-belief is accessible, certainly, and some see it as the only rational explanation for a troubled world such as ours. So, is it not expedient then, also to make God as accessible as possible? Is that not why churches are working to make worship more attractive to everyday folks? We are asked to make worship less threatening by getting rid of hymnals and projecting the words to hymns on to screens in the front of the church. We are told to emphasize casual attire to enhance an atmosphere of welcome and comfort. Working with college students for a generation, I well-understand the need to construct worship experiences that are meaningful and welcoming, especially for students who may not have attended worship before. So, it may come as a surprise to some that I have had students tell me that they would like to dress up for chapel, if that is okay. They say that it makes them feel as if they are showing respect. So, folks know that they come come to chapel dressed up, or down.
Isaiah reminds us that God the Almighty One is above all, not simply a being on our level, as familiar as Dad or Mom or as a best friend. There is a certain theological sophistication that must be present to enable us to see God as both an approachable and a transcendent being. Living in a world that sometimes prefers shallow to substantive, such a balancing act is good exercise for people of faith, and for those who observe us.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Love is Fully Now and Fully Then - I Corinthians 13

Soon Valentine's Day will be upon us. Sappy, self-indulgent Valentine's Day. Now, before you come after me with the long knives, follow my thoughts here. A quick reference check yields no less than eleven St. Valentines. February 14th is the day for Valentine, Bishop of Terni, martyred under Claudius the Goth in 269 A.D.. The tradition of sending "Valentines" on his day is based on a medieval belief that birds began to pair on that day. OK, I will admit that I have no idea of how birds choosing mates evolved into a commercial bonanza for Hallmark, FTD and Godiva. However, I do think that this Sunday's epistle lesson is instructive for us as we approach the "holiday."
I Corinthians is perhaps the most familiar chapter in the New Testament, and it turns up at many, if not most, Christian weddings as one of the texts that is read. That is appropriate, because a wedding is a time for looking forward, a time for making promises and for thinking about what it means to say that we love someone. Paul was offering a non-sentimental excursus on the meaning of love to a church where people regularly felt superior to others due to manifestations of various gifts of the spirit. He reminded them of his own gifts, and then stated that, "without love, I am nothing." There it is in a nutshell. In the words of William Sloane Coffin, "If we fail in love, we fail in all things else"
We we perform Christian weddings, we encourage the couple to look outward to the needs of the world, so that in them, the stranger may find good and generous friends. Conversely, Valentine's Day is about "us, us and us!" The idea of agape love is nowhere evident in the bustle of finding just the right card and gift to prove one's love. But, as Paul reminds his readers, gifts do not endure, but love does. Love is eternal because the source of all love is the eternal One. Love begins with God, not with us, and reaches beyond us to others. Love never asks, "what's in it for me," but, instead asks, "what's in it for you?" THAT is what the celebration of Valentine's Day should affirm. That should be the intent of a couple as they take their vows during a service of Christian marriage. That should be the credo of all people who call themselves Christians. If we love as Paul defines love, we can do no less than build up the faith community, the larger secular community and the world.
Love believes all things are possible, because the source of love is a God of eternal history: past, present and future. That is why Paul can affirm, "Love never ends."

Friday, January 8, 2010

Getting Back to Basics in the New Year

I am not one for making New Year's resolutions, and never have been. If I decide to do something positive for myself, such as a personal fitness regimen, I just do it. I have been faithful to that regimen for thirty years, so it has been much more than a New Year's thing, it has become a lifelong passion.
So, in this New Year, I am determined to keep espousing the kind of biblical study that looks at the scriptures honestly for what is actually there, not what one may wish was in there. Last fall, I switched on the TV early on a Sunday morning and flipped through a few channels to look at the preachers who were on. I could not stay very long on any one channel, because the "performers" fulfilled every negative stereotype of TV preachers that exists. I did find one preacher who seemed promising. He said that he wanted to talk about sex, so he had my, and everyone else's attention. He began with the book of Genesis. So far, so good; he was willing to look at the Old Testament, when most evangelists cannot leave Paul for even a minute. He quoted the passage "Let us create man in our image."I was on the edge of the bed; he was going to deal with the nature of God and God's will for the creation. Far out. Alas, that is not where he was headed. He reminded his listeners, quite confidently, that everyone knows that the use of the first-person plural in that passage refers to the Holy Trinity. It does? You mean it's okay to read things into scripture passages that the writer could not possibly have been thinking about, because there was no conception at all of a trinity in the seventh-century BC, when Genesis was written? So, contrary to the general agreement of mainline biblical scholars the world over, we should forget that the use of the phrase "in our image" probably reflects the ancient belief that Yahweh sat at the table with the Heavenly Council, and that creation was a consultative process?
I am determined to counter instances where folks mis-represent what scripture really states, or what Jesus really said, because those who take such liberties with the scriptures are the ones who hurt the cause of Christianity the most. They mold scripture to say what they want it to say, sometimes to reflect positively on current political realities, and sometimes to reinforce what they already believe to be true. But wait, should I not point a cautionary finger back at myself when talking about scriptural interpretation? Absolutely! If I don't do my exegetical homework, and do it well, I should keep my big trap shut.
I work with students and faculty who think the Christianity is the "Big Lie" that has been perpetrated on humanity. The teachings of Christ are often dismissed as fairy tales and ideas stolen from other religions and philosophies. Worse, when individuals have suffered a loss of tragic event, those who would say that they represent the Christian view utter cliches and offer dime-store solutions and go on their merry way.
So, I will study long and well and will seek to put forth what I think is a fair and real picture of the Gospel message, even when it flies in the face of easy answers and political expediency. And you, my readers, should hold me to that vow.