We Were All Strangers.

I attended what we call a Brownbag Lunch Discussion today. These lunches are very popular, even though there is not a brownbag to be seen anywhere, as we have them catered. But the topics are diverse and always of keen interest to members of the college community. Today's was entitled "What Does an Immigrant Look Like?" I was prepared for a panel discussing issues facing Americans regarding the challenges brought to bear regarding immigration. It was so much more than that, because every member of the panel, students and faculty alike, are people who emigrated to this country. Some are naturalized citizens, others aliens and still others permanent residents. Each shared a story of the challenges faced in coming to this country, and then of going through the legal hoops to be allowed to remain and become citizens. Though the details of their stories varied, the one common thread was the hostile way they felt that they were treated by the Office of U. S. Citizenship and Naturalization Services. The process of becoming a citizen is very expensive, dehumanizing and almost never-ending. As I sat there, listening to my colleagues, friends and students, it occurred to me that not one of them fulfilled the stereotypes that politicians and others like to create in the public mind. I reside in a state that, shamefully, has embraced the policy that, in order to vote, one must produce an official photo ID. This is a state that was founded as a haven for anyone who felt persecuted for being different. The Book of Faith reminds us that we were all strangers who God embraced for all time. As Holy Week approaches, it would be well for us to remember the lengths to which God was willing to go to bring us into the fold. Why is it we seem unable/unwilling to extend such hospitality to others who just want to be a part of our society? There may be many reasons, some thought of as practical, some rooted in fear and others in hatred. And yet, we were all strangers and God welcomed us. How do we escape that overwhelming grace, and how do we justify not extending it to others?

Love and Death. John 12:20 - 26

One of the first Woody Allen movies I ever saw was "Love and Death", which is an hilarious romp through Russian literature and themes of life, death and God's place in all of it. When Woody faces a firing squad, he is comforted by the silhouette of an angel that promises that he will be cared for and therefore, he need not fear death. We hear the gunfire and next see Woody following the Grim Reaper in a dance of death. When his love interest sees this vision and asks what happened, Allen replies, "I got screwed!" When I saw that movie so long ago, I did not understand what that line was supposed to mean. Now that I am older, and have seen many more Woody Allen films, I am not a whole lot clearer on the meaning. But I am pretty sure that it has something to do with the fact that, if we place our trust in God at the moment of our death,we think that we should get to escape the whole experience. Face it, none of us likes the thought of our own demise. I teach a course on death and dying, and have done so for many years. As I get older, the topics that we address seem to hit home a bit more than they used to. When I took my first course on death and dying as an undergraduate, it was great fun and most interesting, because it was about something that was so far in my future that I could not imagine it, though the course required that we write our own obituary and funeral service as a part of the final exam. Now I realize that my students must look at me and wonder what I think about the topic, since I am so much closer to demise than they are.
Well, I am not crazy about the idea of my own death. And I know why, it is because I will hate missing all that I will miss. I really do enjoy getting up each morning, and I never take the rising sun for granted. But it will end for me someday, and someday is much closer than it was when I was in college. During countless graveside services at which I have officiated, the words from John 12:24 have always been spoken at the very beginning of the committal:"Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." Jesus was speaking of physical death, and also of the death of one's own selfish desires. We are approaching Holy Week, when Christians around the world recount the last week of Jesus' life, and ponder again the meaning of love, death, life and resurrection. But at the heart of it all, we have to deal with the dying part of the equation: we are all going to die. And the hardest phrase of all: I am going to die. Talk of resurrection only makes sense when we first can talk of our own death, when we acknowledge that this life will end and our families will gather around our grave and bid us farewell, just as we have done for others throughout our lives. Though Woody Allen was probably thinking of War and Peace when he created the title Love and Death, that phrase sums up nicely the Christian message: facing our own death is bearable because of love. God loved us through sending Christ to live, and die, so that we need not think of death as having the final say. I don't have to like the idea of my own death, and I don't, but I need not approach the reality of that event without the hope of a God who is faithful, in this life, and in life beyond death. The Christian faith is a collection of paradoxes: strength through weakness, greatness through humility, life through death. It is a puzzle, but one worth contemplating, in this life, and beyond.

To Religion's Cultured Despisers

Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher wrote a very famous treatise addressing the tension between Romantic and Enlightenment ideas about religion. He entitled the work On Religion: To It's Cultured Despisers. I cannot help but think of that work when I am involved in discussions here on my campus about the tension that exists here for people of faith, any faith tradition, and the intellectual and academic community. Faculty, staff and students alike report the ill-at-ease feeling regarding religion and faith that seems to permeate the institution. No one seems to be able to define why it feels that way, but those who have spoken about it have felt its sting. How did we evolve from an openly Presbyterian-related school to one where it seems to be really uncool to admit openly to religious beliefs? Let's be clear in acknowledging the historical battles on many college and university campuses in the early part of the twentieth century dealing with orthodox Christian thought and heresy trials, etc, and of the "feel good" pseudo-theology that found a home on many campuses during the final decades of the twentieth century. Some of the problem is of religious folk's own making. Having said that, one can search the web and find many first-class colleges and universities that still talk openly about their commitment to the free exchange of ideas, including those related to religious and spiritual life. However, it has become a bit more challenging to find links to the Religious and Spiritual Life page from the homepages of many colleges and universities, including our own. Why? Like most institutions, the fastest growing demographic among our students as far as religious beliefs are concerned is the one where students define themselves as "unaffiliated." In her new book, Christianity After Religion, Diana Butler Bass tracks the decline of religious affiliation in America, at least, as it affects the Christian Church. Even the popular mega-churches have plateaued and are beginning to lose members. We live in a time of rapid change, and there seems to be a suspicion of anything that can be defined as traditional. So, we should not be surprised that the popularity of religious belief is waning. However, since the major religious traditions emphasize the intrinsic value of all people, does it make sense for some institutions of higher education to flee from holding up their religious life programs and the good that takes place within and without those communities? One would think not. Certainly, a new form of "evangelical" atheism may have something to do with it. This new atheism is not one that encourages all to "live and let live" when it comes to beliefs about essential truths. Rather, it seeks to demean all religion and anyone who holds religious beliefs and describes religious folks as "delusional." Have religious people done anything to bring this thinking about? Undoubtedly, they have. One need only listen to some of the presidential candidates to pinpoint the kind of language and thinking that can cause others to dismiss any talk of faith and spirituality as superfluous. But college and university campuses are supposed to be places where dialogue on any range of issues can be addressed without fear of ridicule. I dare say that we are entering a period, if we are not there already, where one risks being thought an intellectual lightweight in the academic community if one admits to belief in a Supreme Being, or power beyond oneself. My institution admits many students and employs a significant number of people who hold religious beliefs and live as active members of faith communities. Hopefully, we will do a better job of helping those individuals to feel valued for the good they bring to the community because of the effect of their faith, not in spite of it.