an aging progressive

The Person of Jesus

2012-01-24T12:52:00.000-08:00

I am beginning a study with students on the subject of the person of Jesus. Can we really know anything at all about Jesus the man? After all, nearly everything written about him has come down through the faith community, which cannot be considered an unbiased source. At the same time, modern-day skeptics who seek to discredit him and deny that he ever lived are also suspect, with as strong an agenda as members of the Christian faith community. I think that this conundrum is a good thing, because it should mean, at least, that no one should feel too smug when it comes to what we can know about Jesus. While the Gospels offer much to engender admiration and faith, they are not, properly understood, historical documents. They are testimonies of faith, handed down from oral to written tradition in the decades after his crucifixion. I am having a really productive conversation with a colleague who I think considers himself an evangelical Christian, though labels are dangerous things. I consider myself a liberal, or progressive Christian, and again, watch the labels. We sat down to discuss our views on scripture and found that we share many more points in common than at least I had thought we would. It was a pleasant surprise, and we will continue the conversation in hopes of leading our Christian students, of whatever stripe, to do the same thing. Truth is, interfaith cooperation on our campus is superior to intrafaith cooperation, at least as it pertains to the Christian community. I am looking forward to this study with students on the person of Jesus. After all, I expect to learn much from them. They are young enough to ask questions that more seasoned folks might hesitate to ask. To admit that I do not think that I can really know the person of Jesus causes me to listen to the texts more carefully, and to try to peel away the layers of tradition to seek the kernels of original thought that are there. Happily, I cannot, would not, try to do that alone, but must rely on scholars much wiser than I. Of course, I may find out that I have totally misread what is of interest to students and discover that there are few takers for this discussion, as often happens on campus. Either way, it's a good corrective for those of us who work in the faith everyday, and the rest of us who seek to live out the faith everyday. Without examining the very basic tenets of our Christian faith from time to time, we tend to remake Jesus in our own image. If anyone doubts that, just listen to the presidential candidates when they tout their religious credentials. That in and of itself should be enough to spur us on to a daily examination of not only our Christian faith, but also of our motives for believing in the first place!

A Christmas Memory

2011-12-16T06:58:00.000-08:00

I grew up in a small town where, for whatever reasons, my church became the center of my life. I have thought about it so often, and I think of the people, the Sunday school teachers, our pastor, my scoutmaster, most of whom are gone now. It was a community where we kids were accepted as we were, and I think that is really true, because even the kids who were picked on in school were treated lovingly at the church. One of my fondest memories there is of a Christmas Eve service when I was thirteen years old. The church may have had such services for years, but this was the first that I ever attended. What made it even more special was that my whole family attended, which indeed was a rare event. The church was packed, and it seemed as if everyone was happy and radiant. At the end of the service, we sang "Silent Night" as the lights were extinguished, and I remember seeing the faces of the senior and junior choir bathed in candlelight. It was a beautiful event, and is a very warm memory. Three months later, the church was destroyed by fire, never to be rebuilt. Members of the congregation fought over the judicatory's decision not to allow us to rebuild. Within a year, the congregation split, with two-thirds of the membership founding a new church. I remained with the original congregation, even though the rest of my friends went with the breakaway group. As a result, I learned a difficult lesson about human nature. I learned that church people are human beings who are imperfect, who bicker and gossip and take sides. Years later, after I had graduated from divinity school and was serving my own churches, I learned from the man who had been our pastor at the time that we could have rebuilt the church, if only members would have agreed to install an outreach ministry in the new building, since our church lot bordered what is now known as a transitional neighborhood. But the folks in power at the time refused. And some of the most obstinate were the very people who had nurtured the members of the youth group so lovingly. Members of my extended family now attend the church that broke away, and my home church, or what was left of it, merged with another congregation in town. A parking lot now occupies the space where a church had stood for one-hundred-fifty years, with no marker or anything to indicate that a house of worship had once stood there. I was the last in a long line of youth from that church who entered the Christian ministry, and I am the last who is still serving actively. The very real and hard lessons I learned about human nature since the fire have not dimmed the mental picture I retain of the beautiful candlelight service in that gorgeous edifice, when I felt as if we were all members of one family. Truth is, we were, and remain so. That, I think, is the heart of the Christmas message: God came to earth that we all might be one. Merry Christmas.

Forgive My Rant!

2011-12-07T13:06:00.000-08:00

I have been doing some hard thinking, so I am about to sound-off. Don't say you weren't warned. With all of the lights and sounds (tacky, for the most part) of the season around us, why is it so hard to get the attention of people who claim to follow the Christian faith, but who have little time to participate in it? Perhaps the warm weather has made it difficult for some to get into that holiday spirit that was never present at the original Christmas event, but shall forever be identified with it, thanks to Irving Berlin and White Christmas. Many of the students and faculty with whom I work are quite tired at this point in the semester. Soon, classes will end, and finals will conclude and we will all go home. Then it begins all over again next semester. Such has been the rhythm of my professional life for the past twenty-five years. I spend most of my time working with young adults, whose attention spans have been forever shortened by our electronic culture and its demand for immediate answers. Who can blame them if they have little interest in listening to the story of a man who lived, and died, long ago? Nor are they easily impressed with talk of his still being with us, though in a form not easily seen. This problem with attention span lies not only with young adults, but also with a large portion of the American church, at least. One can read voluminous material about why the old ways the church reached out are not longer relevant, and why new ways have to be adapted to the contemporary realities in which we find ourselves. I do not disagree; I have had to adapt the ways in which I relate to students, and they have changed over time. But the basic need for them to hear the story has not changed, though it is difficult to get folks to take the time to listen. And so, sometimes we pander, to young adults and older adults, enticing them with the promise of much in exchange for little demand on them. I recall asking a campus minister if he spent much time talking about the controversial issues facing our denomination, and faith, with his students. His reply was, "Well, I could do that, and have maybe forty students, or I can avoid it and have two-hundred." And that is what he chose to do. With thinking like that, is it any wonder that American Christians tend to have a theology that is skin-deep? Our Christmas message focuses on the baby, because it is easier to love a baby who never made any demands on anyone, save for his mother and father, than it is to talk about the man that baby would become, a man who made people uncomfortable for the sake of a cause greater than himself. So, we have mainline churches who have stood by their social justice-infused theology struggling to keep their doors open. And we have mega-churches that emphasize "Jesus and me" and individual salvation, instead of the salvation of all people, and they are packed to the rafters. When did the Advent season lose its punch? As it is, those who attend church during Advent see it as the season when the pastor won't allow them to sing Christmas carols as early as they would like. So, Advent is simply that annoying time, leading up to Christmas, that we have to wait out. Many folks who fill churches on Christmas Eve were not in church doing the Advent season, which helps us to make sense of the holiday. We don't like having to wait for the payoff, we want it right away. Why in the world don't people want to hear the Advent message about God "breaking into" our world so that the kingdom may come for all people? Perhaps the trouble worsened when it became legal to be a Christian. Prior to Constantine, Christians were a marginalized people who existed on the fringes of society. When Helen, Constantine's mother, made it clear to her son that she expected him to follow her into this new faith, his subsequent conversion meant that Christianity was now legal, and the oppressed became the oppressor. The closest some American Christians come to feeling persecuted is when they are criticized by others for their intolerance of persons who they believe live outside the house of faith. In America, the Christian faith and the culture wars have become almost indistinguishable from one another. Christians are the "haves" and all others are the "have nots." Well, this Christian believes that Advent is the time to shout out that business as usual is not the will of God, not according to the early witnesses of the faith. I would rather run a small campus ministry that struggles with the tough issues, than have a large one that has no idea what it means to step outside the comfort zone of spiritual security. Advent should fill us with excitement, and make us "stand on the tiptoe of expectation" as the prophet Isaiah once stated. I won't give up on my recalcitrant students, and I believe, with all of my heart, that God has not given up on us, either.

Christ the King in This Skeptical Age.

2011-11-21T06:48:00.000-08:00

We have celebrated the Sunday of Christ the King, the last Sunday of the Christian year. The scripture, from Matthew, speaks of Christ who will be seated on high and who will separate the sheep from the goats. We spend much of our faithful lives trying to line up with the sheep, even though it's much more fun to act like a goat. The scene of that final judgment can send chills through the most ardent sheep, because it tells us that, whatever we have done to the least of God's children, we have done to God. I cannot help but think of the gathering of polarized goats we refer to as Congress. Many of the Tea Party darlings speak eloquently of "family values" while cutting programs that aid the marginalized of society. We have many on the left who chide believers as being in love with a fairy tale, and who go so far as to state, with seeming certainty, that Jesus of Nazareth never existed. How does one prove a negative, I wonder? For the record, any serious scholar worth his or her salt has studied the evidence closely and all agree that Jesus is a real person from history. Obviously, what cannot be proven is the certitude of his divinity. We live in a time when there is no real respect given to the idea of religious belief, when a sabbath day is present only in memory, and when immediate personal gratification is the order of the day. No wonder that there is no interest in hearing of a "King" of any type being a standard bearer for the faithful. It takes a lifetime, or at least, it has for this writer, to begin to understand the magnitude of what Christianity claims as its central tenet: God became human and identified with the least and the lost. What passes for Christianity in many parts of the world, and certainly in America, has little in common with that original vision. Christianity has became synonymous with winners and power brokers and people "like us." Working on college and university campuses for the past twenty-five years, I have seen the proportion of students who avail themselves of the services of the religious and spiritual life programs shrink continually. Students arrive at college with no religious "memory," that is, they have little or no experience as a part of a faith community, so why would they choose to affiliate with a program now? So, this is the situation out of which we proclaim Christ as King. Well, this writer will continue to do that, because we need the vision of a great and powerful leader who sides with the poor and dispossessed. When it comes right down to it, every one of us has felt dispossessed, even if we have not been financially poor. More and more of us are at risk of becoming financially poor, and risk falling through the cracks as social programs are cut in favor of tax cuts that curry to the wealthy and powerful. In Advent, Christians have the audacity to proclaim that a baby will be the symbol of a new world order. For a few moments, people will come together to sing carols and light candles. Meanwhile, we will be chastised for failing to spend quite enough on gifts to boost the economy, and the King will again be placed on the shelf until next year. But the image of God as loving the dispossessed will not be hidden, and it will continue to make us uncomfortable and to feel embarrassed when someone asks us if we really believe that stuff about Jesus. And the sheep and goats continue their journey along the road that meanders to the Kingdom of God.

Writer's Block, During This Time in Our History?

2011-11-09T07:04:00.000-08:00

My posts have fallen off as of late. I have been puzzling over that fact for the past few days. Are there fewer problems in the world about which to lament? No. Are there no inspirational stories to be found in scripture? Of course not. After the October snowstorm, have we not had the most gorgeous fall weather imaginable? Yes, we have. So, what is going on in this addled brain of mine? Ah, glad you asked. I have been laboring in the field of academia for twenty-five years now, and my moods and energy levels seem to follow the rhythms of the college calendar. We are sloshing through that odd period after midterm and before finals. Thanksgiving is a mere two weeks away, and, after that, there is barely a whisper until the semester will end. Our whole family will be together at Christmas, which is indeed rare. I am in that in-between place, you see, and sometimes the ideas and originality are slow to percolate through the substrata of my inner sanctum. It's difficult, sometimes, to focus on the present when the end is in sight! However, I will offer a commentary on an event here that was not new, but that did serve to renew my flagging spirit. Our Muslim Student Association hosted an Eid - al - Adha this past Sunday evening. They opened with prayers, some corny jokes and a sincere welcome to all. Then we feasted on some of the best Indian food to be enjoyed on this side of the Atlantic. The evening was fun and the place was jam-packed with people. Imagine a large hall, filled with Muslims, Jews, Christians, Hindus and people of no particular faith tradition. And imagine all of those people being very glad that they have come there. Well, that was our event. And it is the norm around here, and also at other campuses where we have hosted interfaith events. Though nothing in my background and formative years would have laid the foundations for an inclination towards interfaith work, it is there that I feel most useful and most fulfilled. I cannot help but feel that God rejoices as much as we do when we gather together. It should be stated clearly that interfaith gathering does not imply that we forget our differences and just celebrate an amorphous amalgamation of watered-down faith traditions so that no one is made to feel that any one tradition is on display. This gathering was for Eid - al - Adha, celebrating Abraham's offering of Ishmael for sacrifice, and God's deliverance of Ishmael before it was too late. What's that, you say, you thought it was Isaac who was offered? Well, it was, as it was Ishmael. You see, the various traditions represented at the gathering are not of one mind regarding the dramatis personae in the story. We do not try to ignore our differences, but affirm them. Truthfully, it is after midterm, and I am tired and we still have several weeks of the semester to go. But even during this strange time, I am keenly aware of how fortunate I am to share in the life of this multi-faith community. My Christian faith would be so impoverished without it. God is never more real and authentic for me than when I am in the midst of a group such as I was Sunday evening. Even in the dips in energy past mid-semester, there are mountaintops that never cease to surprise and energize.

A Film You Don't Want to See, but Must!

2011-10-25T13:21:00.000-07:00

Several months ago, my wife and I came across a documentary on HBO entitled "How to Die in Oregon." It was described as a film that follows several folks who were terminally ill as they made decisions about their care, and mode of death, some involving Oregon's "Right to Die" law. So, of course, I tuned in. The film was inspiring, shattering, heartbreaking...in other words, my kind of movie! We noticed that it then disappeared from HBO's broadcast schedule, and I could find it nowhere. On a hunch, I contacted the producer and asked it the film would be available anytime soon. Sure enough, it was to be released during the first week of October. I placed my order, the film arrived and I screened it for my death and dying class. They were quite reserved after viewing, even more than they usually are. However, one can understand their understated response in light of the emotional wallop that the film delivers. I have viewed the film three times, and have searched for every review of it that I could find. Most of the reviews have been very positive. I found a review in a conservative Christian magazine, and, as might be expected, the reviewer was lukewarm in his opinion of the film, and seemed to not be able to get past the whole idea of "death with dignity". As a result, he did not deal with the film in any meaningful way. This is evident because he does not even mention the name of a person who became the centerpiece of the film. Cody Curtis was a professional woman, a wife and mother who was given a terminal diagnosis after a recurrence of liver cancer. She and her family allowed the producer of the film into their lives during the final year of her life. Her gentle nature, honesty, and wide-eyed wonder of the illness and its unpredictable course would have been enough to insure that her image remains with a viewer for a long time. But it is the grace with which she dealt with her illness, and the love that she exemplifies for her family and friends that takes a hold and won't let go. I do not know if she professed any faith tradition, and it does not matter to me if she did, or did not. In the glimpse of her life offered in the film I saw perhaps one of the greatest examples that I have witnessed of someone giving flesh and bone to Jesus' promise that those who are poor in spirit will be truly blessed. She approached the end of her life with a dignity, humility, honesty and wisdom that are far from commonplace. I hope that during the rest of my life, and in my dying, I may remember her life and exemplify even a small portion of her grace.

Enough to Send Us Running - Isaiah 45:1 - 7

2011-10-14T07:22:00.000-07:00

The Hebrew Bible lesson this week describes how King Cyrus, a Persian, became, for a little while, the holder of the title, "Messiah." Indeed, in Isaiah 45:1, Cyrus is referred to as "anointed one." Whoa there! How does Persia, long an enemy of Israel, get to produce a messiah? Well, think of it as "acting messiah." I work on a college campus where we have acting Deans and Directors somewhere, in some division, almost all the time. They hold the position and title while a person for the permanent position is being sought. So it was with Cyrus: he was a placeholder for the real anointed one, a port in a storm, if you will. The Israelites who had been exiled to Babylon longed to return home, at least, many of them did. Cyrus became the instrument by which God was able to accomplish that feat. I have seen the color drain from the faces of folks when I ask them if they have ever heard that the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty King that is spoken about in Handel's "Messiah" might have been referring to King Cyrus. We are so used to projecting everything in the Hebrew Bible forward onto Jesus that we can barely entertain the idea that the writer of Isaiah may have been writing about someone else, at least in the case of chapter 45. After all, if some yahoo from Persia could get to be an instrument of God just by allowing some of the residents in a country he had just conquered to go home, then anybody anywhere at any time could have a chance to be an instrument of God. Yikes! That is about as frightening a thought as we are likely to have, ever! If God would choose to use as as instruments, it might mean that our schedules would be thrown into chaos. We like the predictability of our lives, don't we? Our routines are sacred times, and they are ingrained into us and we feel comfortable there. One need not read very far in the Hebrew Bible or New Testament until the idea that God likes to upset comfortable lives becomes readily apparent. We don't know what Cyrus thought of the whole thing, though we do know that he possessed a very healthy ego. Not long after conquering Babylon, Cyrus allowed all exiled peoples to return to their homelands. The version of this edict on the famous Cyrus cylinder states, "I am Cyrus, king of the world, great king, legitimate king, king of Babylon." However, in Isaiah's account, God's attributes are listed numerous times, with Cyrus being mentioned by name only twice. In the eyes of Isaiah, Cyrus was the actor, but God was the writer, stage manager and director. Cyrus was the icing, God was the cake. In a time in America when political egos are larger than ever, and politicians of a certain ilk are only too happy to proclaim their divine credentials, the story of King Cyrus is a cautionary tale. Cyrus was probably the most powerful guy on the planet in his day. But he gets only brief mention in the story of faith, because he was an almost accidental tourist on the itinerary of stops on the way to the coming of the Kingdom of God. What would we give to make such an impact on the lives of the faithful where we live? And why don't we make such an impact?

The Same Old Story?

2011-09-30T07:07:00.000-07:00

I attended a discussion the other night entitled "Are Christianity and Homosexuality Incompatible?" There was a large contingent of students from a gay-straight alliance on campus, many from an evangelical Christian group, and a few from the more progressive Christian group that actually sponsored the event. I slipped into the role of moderator, since it was obvious that we needed one. The discussion was civil, but the old underlying tension caused by the slogan, "Love the sinner, hate the sin" was alive and well. It was clear within a very short time that there was a wall that would not be breached: there are those who interpret scripture literally, and those who do not. When that reality interjects itself, forward progress almost always ceases. I often feel embarrassed when GLBT people attend a discussion where Christianity's views are debated. If Christians are supported, others will say that they do not respect the authority of scripture. If other Christians condemn homosexual activity based on their understanding of scripture, they are perceived as bigoted. Is there a way out of this morass? I wish I knew. There are progressive Christians, and by that, I mean Christians who see their faith as a way forward to heal a broken world. Undoubtedly, many conservative Christians see their faith in a similar way. However, the brand of evangelical Christianity that is most familiar in America as reported through the media, is a type of faith that insists that the world conform to a standard based upon a literal understanding of scripture. I read recently an article that asserted that literal interpretation of scripture is really only about three hundred years old, and that, before that, Christians used scripture in its richest form. They looked to scripture for inspiration and guidance, not as a step-by-step book of rules and prohibitions. During our campus discussion, it was evident that some of the students who insisted on a literal interpretation of scripture had no other basis for their faith, should that lone pillar be removed. Other, more moderate Christians tried to make the argument that scripture is really not relevant to the discussion. In that case, the baby went out with the bath water! I left the meeting discouraged, because I realized that I have seen no forward movement, at least on this issue, among the conservative group of students who was there, during the entire time that I have been at this institution. And I am very frustrated with students whose views are more inclusive and welcoming, but who will not take the time and exert the effort to be a part of the discussions. I realize that this dynamic reflects the larger society as a whole. Our more progressive mainline churches will continue to falter and disappear, because they cannot capture, and hold, the attention of the populace with a message that Christ messes with the "common theology" of twenty-first century America. Unless one embraces a restrictive view of Christianity, that promises a payoff for few, after this life, what is the upside? Who wants to practice a faith that espouses acceptance of people different from oneself and a throwing open of the doors to all who will come, as they are. Yes, there ARE standards for Christian living, and they are not for everyone. But to insist that one change an in-born or acquired sexual orientation just for admission to the flock is to demand that one sell one's soul not to God, but to those who have set themselves up as God's gatekeepers. No one wins.

It Must Make Us Feel Better

2011-09-22T08:21:00.000-07:00

Troy Davis was executed last night, after a last minute flurry of activity to spare his life by staying his execution. But, if Americans have shown anything, it is that they will not be denied their revenge. It's not as if Troy Davis did anything to us, personally. But, he was a convicted murderer, and, perhaps owing to our "wild west" mentality, those who kill must be killed. Never mind that, in the years since his conviction for the crime, seven of nine witnesses recanted their stories. It does not matter that physical evidence linking him to the crime was never discovered. It is not about guilt beyond a reasonable doubt, because there was certainly reasonable doubt in his case. I don't know if he committed the crime for which he was charged, or not. But I do know that there was enough doubt about his guilt that he never should have been executed. But, it does not matter in America, because we are a people who love to exact revenge. Look at the films that we view. Look at the violence in them, and the vicarious sense of sweet revenge we get from them when the bad guys get what they deserve. Have you ever noticed how many Christians are among those holding signs outside prisons whenever an execution is scheduled? One knows that they are Christians because they carry signs proclaiming that fact, they wear crosses, and they are happy to tell any who will listen that they are Christian. What is often missing from that tableau is a reporter who asks a Christian how he or she can mesh their belief in capital punishment with their Christian faith. One will always see signs reminding us of "an eye for an eye." Again, why does no one ever ask about the rest of that verse, about how Jesus ended the thought. He said that we are to turn the other cheek, which is also greatly misunderstood, but that's for another day's blog entry. Recently, Ray Krone, a convicted murderer was on our campus. You may wonder how we were able to arrange for a convicted murderer to appear on our campus. Ray was convicted of raping and murdering a waitress and was sentenced to death and placed on Arizona's death row. Just as Troy Davis did, Ray protested his conviction and asserted his innocence. However, in Ray's case, annoying evidence of his innocence began to appear, and re-appear. No matter how loudly the prosecutor proclaimed Ray's guilt, the voices proclaiming his innocence would not be silenced. Finally, justice was won and Ray was released from prison after DNA evidence exonerated him. Troy Davis was willing to take a polygraph test yesterday, but he was not permitted to do so. There was no way that the state of Georgia was going to be denied its pound of flesh. Another execution was carried out in Texas last night, and still another is scheduled for tonight in Alabama. Americans love executions, they love wild-west justice, they love revenge. And, to this point in time, no state has agreed to allow the filming of an execution, and one has to wonder why. If state-sanctioned executions are such a great idea, would we not wish to show them off? One would think that politicians who run on a platform of getting tough on crime would want to show an execution so that folks know that they are serious. I am guessing that we will never see a televised execution, because it would reveal that the emperor has no clothes. If folks could see the cool and calculated premeditation that goes along with the process for themselves, they just might be horrified, having a difficult time differentiating what the convicted murderer did from that which the state did to the murderer. Troy Davis may have been innocent, but it does not mater now. Those calling for revenge still shout louder than those calling for justice. And those calling for revenge, in the name of God, remain deaf to their folly.

A Parable We Love to Hate Matthew 20:1 - 16

2011-09-14T06:16:00.000-07:00

I have found that, sometimes, the hardest medicine to take, theologically, is an occasion when a saying or parable of Jesus can cause some embarrassment when telling it to another. Such is the case with the parable of the landowner and workers found in Matthew's gospel. I cannot count the times when students, and others, have reacted to the story with cries of "That's not fair" and "those guys got a raw deal." Indeed, if we read the story with our everyday eyes, we will be left unsatisfied, with a lingering discomfort. And, God forbid, that anything in scripture should make American Christians uncomfortable. I wonder if a survey would show that the most popular churches today are those where the uncomfortable side of Christian discipleship is emphasized? I wouldn't count on that. Matthew's parable flies in the face of every value we are taught about the rewards of hard work and honesty. Should those who worked for just one hour receive the same wage as those who worked for twelve hours? Well, look at the deal the landowner made with each worker: a day's wage for work completed. So, did he lie to anyone? No, he offered exactly what he had promised. So, then, why all of the grumbling? Perhaps because of one human trait that has not changed in the course of two thousand years: we love extra credit for working hard. We expect it from our employers, and my students expect it from me. The men who worked twelve hours had agreed to do so for a day's wage, an amount of money that would enable them to survive for a day. When they saw that the last hired were given that wage, they imagined that they were due some extra incentive, because they had worked a full day, not just one hour. I have read a commentary, or two, that accuse the landowner of being a sadistic power-hungry cretin who liked nothing better than to remind the populace of his superiority. Really? Come on now. First, we must remember that this story is a parable, not an historical account of a true event. And second, Jesus was trying to convey an important message: God's order is not always consistent with our order. What is the real point of this story? In the words of William Loader, of the Uniting Church in Australia, "The story opens new vistas. The employer kept the contract he had made with the first hired but also gave the last hired what they needed to live. The last hired received their denarius, their living. Viewed from this perspective the practice comes close to what for us is a norm: unemployment benefit, making sure people have enough to live on. A different standard is applied: need, not earning rights. To view it in this way puts many things in a new perspective. It does not smooth out all the rough edges, but it is enough to open the door to a different way of thinking." In other words, the landowner gave the workers what they needed, not necessarily what the wanted or thought they deserved. Imagine the effect on the silly season of American politics if those running for public office were to promise the populace to find ways to procure for them what they need, not what they want. And does it strike anyone else as in-congruent that, those candidates who claim to have the strongest Christian credentials are the very people who resent "entitlements?" The parable cuts through such nonsense and teaches a lesson about giving people not what they deserve, but what they need. A parable we love to hate? Very likely. A parable we desperately need to hear in this politically and theologically shallow time in which we live? For certain.

A Fitting September 11th Observance

2011-09-06T10:42:00.000-07:00

Though I should not be surprised, I was caught a bit off-guard when our local news station began Monday's newscast with about seven minutes worth of stories relating to Sept. 11th. They then direct folks to their website and assure us that they will offer "continuing coverage" regarding the World Trade Center attacks all week long. And so we jump headlong into media saturation of an event that occurred ten years ago. We set up markers for ourselves, usually in multiples of five, to commemorate significant events. For some reason, ten seems much bigger as it relates to September 11th than did the fifth anniversary. I must offer a disclaimer here and admit that, for my family, September 11th is a day of mixed blessings which count more for us on a personal level that does commemorating the World Trade Center attacks. Our son was born on September 11th, and from that time forward it has always been an immensely joyful day around our house. Our children are our greatest gift, and so their observances come first. Conversely, my father died on September 11th, on our son's eighteenth birthday. So, for me, the day is about blessing and loss on a most personal level. Nonetheless, I realize the magnitude of the day for the general population. For that reason, I knew that I would plan an interfaith worship service for that day, since this will be the tenth anniversary. The service is full of readings from diverse religious traditions, affirmations of faith and prayers for peace. Only for a moment, at the beginning of the service will we look backwards, and remember. After that, we will give thanks for the tapestry of people and religious traditions that compose our campus community. I have taught a course on death, dying and bereavement for many years, so I know well the various ways in which people grieve, both individually, and corporately. Some folks will arrive at some kind of closure regarding personal losses, others will find it much more difficult. My discomfort with the various ways in which the media will play and replay the images from September 11, 2001 is that it will serve mostly to remind us of our differences, and of those responsible for the attacks. I hope I am wrong and that the coverage shows, instead, the ways in which the survivors have grown over the years and have used their tragic losses as an energizing force to work for understanding. If one remembers the hoopla made a couple of years ago about the mosque that was planned for a site several blocks from, and not even within the sight of, Ground Zero, one knows that we have a long way to go in ceasing to marginalize those whose beliefs and dress may be different from our own. I pray that this tenth anniversary will cause all of us to stop and reflect and to give thanks to a faithful God who does not desert us in our grief and anger, but points us to new avenues of understanding and service.

ABLC

2011-08-19T07:06:00.000-07:00

In United Methodist ecclesiastical language, the term for people like me who serve in ministries other than the local church used to be Appointed Beyond the Local Church, or ABLC. For years, I was used to being referred to by that moniker. When I was asked to address the clergy session of my annual conference about what it means to be an ABLC, I told them, tongue-in-cheek, that I believed that most folks believed that ABLC stood for Another Brother Left the Church. There was uproarious laughter, and I knew that I had hit a nerve. I pleaded with them to refer to us as pastors, because we have never stopped serving out our callings as such. Imagine my disappointment when, upon reading minutes of that meeting, I discovered that the conference secretary stated "John Colatch gave an informative presentation on ABLC's."
I have been reading Dick Van Dyke's autobiography, My Lucky Life, In and Out of Show Business. I was surprised to read that he had been very active in his Presbyterian Church during the height of his fame in the 1960's. It was refreshing to read that someone remained a part of a faith community, even when he was part of a working culture that was far removed from any overt talk of religious life. He spoke of the time when his pastor left to serve another church, and he was part of a group of members suggesting that their all-white church extend an invitation to a local African-American congregation to share worship services and hospitality. Van Dyke recounts the opposition that arose to the suggestion and it was voted down. He states that he left his church, and organized religion at that point, and has never returned.
It is all too common in this country that, when people are disappointed if something goes wrong in the local church, they cut and run and disavow any connection with any church or organized religious body.
The biblical witness tells of prophets who disagreed strongly with their religious leaders and structures, and yet, they remained true to the faith and worship of their tradition, trying to create change from within. The American Christian Church has become so accommodating that, when leaders in the church do take a prophetic stand, the members flee, until they find another body that conforms with what they already believe. Or, they simply drop out and disparage all talk of religious and faith. I work in an academic community and know well the fashionable agnosticism that arises from such cases.
I was really disappointed that Dick Van Dyke left his church, because the church needed his prophetic spirit to go against the racism that was institutionalized. If only he had continued to work for justice within the faith community. He certainly has done do from outside, and he is to be admired for his commitment. Our young adults need mentors in their faith communities who can serve as examples of what it means to work for change from within. It is so easy to cut and run, and I see the results of this all of the time in students whose families decided against raising them in any faith tradition, even though the parents were raised in one. Another Brother/Sister Left the Church. And soon, there were none.

The Debt Crisis - What Would Jesus Do?

2011-07-29T06:15:00.000-07:00

It is interesting to me that, with many of the folks who are demanding that the debt ceiling not be raised until we have a constitutional amendment requiring a balanced budget, little to nothing has come forth regarding their religious reasons for wanting such. Any other time, the religious fervor is worn on the sleeves, and many speak forth on behalf of the Almighty. Those voices have been strangely silent in the midst of the mess that is Washington. Could it be that there is a sense of embarrassment regarding cuts in social program that many in the Tea Party and the Republican party are calling for. Is there is sense of dis-ease in trying to defend not demanding an end to tax breaks for the wealthiest Americans and corporations? After all, sacrifices are being called for by.....well, by the middle class and poor. With all of the political blather aside, it becomes very difficult to justify such a philosophy in the name of Jesus when he was squarely on the side of the poor. And why have not the mainline religious folk been calling the political/pseudo-prophets on the carpet about this hypocrisy? Well, actually, they have been doing just that. Members of The Interfaith Alliance were arrested for peacefully protesting in the capitol. Walter Wink wrote about the power of domination systems to control the discussion and squelch dissent. We are seeing it on full display. Those of us who claim to be followers of Christ had best not be silent in all of this. When the immediate crisis has passed and the election cycle revs up and candidates and incumbents begin speaking self-righteously about the kind of country that God wants and Jesus demands, we had best not be silent. Lives are on the line here. The poor have been punished and pushed to the fringes in the richest country in the world, because their presence among us in an inconvenient reminder of our calling. It's time for religious people to take up the oft' quoted phrase, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!"

Sitting in Silence, but Not in Church

2011-07-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

Earlier today I found myself sitting in silence, not wanting to hear anyone speak, and not wanting to leave the place. However, the lights came up and we had to go out of the theater to make room for people attending the next showing. There have been precious few times during my life when a film caused me to sit in awe and wonder. The Elephant Man was that kind of film, as was Chariots of Fire. I had not planned on seeing The Tree of Life, but I had read several reviews during the past week, including one published in the Christian Century, and they were very good reviews. There are so few films worth seeing these days that I really do pay attention when many agree on the merits of a particular film. So, I went in to see the film not knowing what to expect, aside from the common wisdom that one will not understand all of it, rather like 2001: A Space Odyssey. I was one of the few people in my college dorm who liked that movie, probably because I had read the book in high school and had figured out at least most of it, except for the ending. From the moment Tree of Life began, I was taken into the story and the images and the music. I won't give away the plot or the scenes other than to say that portions of all of our lives are touched upon during that film. Life, death, God, prayer, family, fairness and unfairness, adolescence...it's all there. I thought the movie had ended several times before it did, and I could not even guess what was coming next.
I was sad that the lights came up the moment the credits began. I wanted to sit there and allow it to wash over me. It seemed somehow sacrilegious to speak, because the journey I had just been on took me to holy ground. I will spend good portions of time during the coming weeks pondering the film and its images and the places whence I was transported. I will relive difficult moments in my own life that came to mind while viewing it, and I will look back fondly on simpler times during my early life. I have read reviews since viewing the film written by those who have no patience for messages that are not obvious, people whose attention spans are barely longer that that of gnats. And some were dismayed that a religious message could possibly be found in the film, as if that, if it does in fact exist there, cheapened the artistic merit of said film. I think of about the only phrase I recall in reading Schliermacher in divinity school, when he directed one of his works to his friends, the "cultured despisers of religion." So, if you can find an art theater that is showing this film, because the commercial chains will not touch something so ponderous, go and take a look. How often do you have occasion to sit in silence and awe and wonder?

Going Back to the Wellspring

2011-07-15T07:44:00.000-07:00

I have written previously about the spiritual regeneration that occurred when I began to attend a local Episcopal church back in January. I continue to love the ritual, theology and social justice outlook of the church. We have just returned from visiting our daughter and son-in-law in England, and it was inevitable that we should attend the Anglican services there. First, we attended the Sunday service at the little church in the village where our son-in-law's family resides. It happened to be the annual service where the church recognized the local civic leaders. The building itself is ancient, going back to the middle ages. The service was not what I expected, as it was very Methodist in many ways, and not the high ritual I had hoped for. Still, it was nice to experience life in a small village church.
The next day we traveled to Durham, home of one of the most ancient cathedrals in Europe. We had been there before, many years ago, so it was not a new experience in that regard. However, the day held a nice surprise for me. It so happened that an afternoon Eucharistic service was offered, and so my wife and daughter and I attended. The service was very similar to the weekly service at our local cathedral church, and that was wonderful. Couple that with the ancient surroundings, in a cathedral that was already centuries old when the Church of England was born, and the service took on special meaning. I kept thinking of the phrase "so great a cloud of witnesses" as I thought about the tens of thousands who had worshiped there before me for almost one thousand years. In addition, having our daughter worship with us, knowing how deeply her faith affects her life in a country where not a great many young adults attend church, was a deeply moving experience. I guess I am writing this to encourage anyone who may read these words to seek out a congregation that nourishes you in a way the meets your own unique needs. For me, it meant choosing a denomination other than the one in which I was ordained, and that has caused me a great deal of soul-searching. I have always loved the beauty of the ritual and majesty of the Anglican tradition, and felt guilty for not being satisfied with the continual diluting of the ritual of my own denomination, which is a direct descendant of the Anglican Communion. While many prefer a simple service with "praise" music and very little ritual, I find the ancient rituals, coupled with the choral music of the masters, to be a spiritual experience like no other. Whatever your tradition, learn its history and seek to understand why the service is conducted the way in which it is, and you will find added enrichment to your own spiritual tradition.

Still Here, and Glad to Be So.

2011-05-24T13:05:00.000-07:00

Before I offered my Baccalaureate address this past Saturday, I told those gathered that I had never before presided at a Baccalaureate service held on a day that the world was predicted to end. I told them that, should something happen and some of them be taken away, I would still be there preaching for those who remained behind. Truth is, I would much rather hang out with those who are seeking answers than to spend eternity with those who want to be a part of the 2 - 3% of the earth's population spared from a final cataclysmic event. I hung out with enough of those types in college to last me for a lifetime. How is it that the faith that teaches the most benevolent and grace-filled message of all religions attracts those who like to keep score even more than my mean old third grade teacher? When I took a course in Pauline theology in college, our professor talked about the now-famous verse in I Thessalonians 4 that has come to be know as the "rapture" (a word which never appears in scripture!). Paul expected the coming of Christ at any minute at that point in his career. However, as one reads other, later letters of Paul, it becomes clear that he expected to die before Christ ever returned. I guess that my wonder at such Bible illiteracy is tied up with my on-going question as to why my theology and knowledge of the Bible is suspect by some, while that of those with no training in biblical studies is not. I learned a long time ago in my parish work that, no matter how many years of theological training one has under his or her belt, one always loses out to what "grandma" told a family member. I find it fascinating that, although the mainstream media dismisses the modern day prophets of doom, they spent countless time covering their predictions. They also have no interest in what educated people have to say on the subject. Face it, the world WILL end someday. While I doubt very much that it will happen in my lifetime, I don't know that for certain. If I am a person of faith, as I claim to be, then I must assert that, whenever it happens, God will care for all of God's people, not only for a fortunate few who enjoyed reading the tea leaves.

Christ is Risen! Osama is Dead! And We Want to See His Photo?

2011-05-04T06:28:00.000-07:00

Since my wife and I switched churches about five months ago, our experiences of Holy Week and Easter were magnified and enriched in ways that we had not foreseen. Easter Sunday was glorious, joyful, and one woman was overheard exclaiming while leaving the sanctuary, "This is the place to be on Easter!" And so we celebrated the resurrection of our Lord, with spring finally coming to the Lehigh Valley. Just one week later, our students gathered on the Quad at midnight, with beer and fireworks, to celebrate the news that Osama bin Laden had been killed. The news media has spoken of little else since then, even though thousands of Americans are dealing with devastation caused by tornadoes and flooding in the Midwest and South. At Bible study on Monday, I asked the students how they felt about all of the hoopla. They said that they understood the celebrations, even though some of them were not even in their teens when the World Trade Center attacks occurred. There was a sense of dis-ease as they talked, and I asked why they felt a bit of discomfort. It came down to the same discomfort I had been experiencing: should Christians really be celebrating the death of anyone? We talked about who is a child of God, and the consensus was that all people are children of God, though some run from the positive potentials that such a birthright entails. Hitler, Bin Laden and others were born as God's children. They then chose to take the path of evil, but they never could move out of the sphere of God's love. Such words will cause some to wince, I know. We love to hate our enemies and to see them get what they deserve. There is great debate now as to whether or not the photos of the dead Bin Laden will be, or should be, released. My belief: they will be released, but should not be released. The man is dead and buried at sea, but the book is not closed on his reign of terror. We want to revel in his defeat, because we want the pain of those attacks ten years ago to recede, though, in reality, for those who lost loved ones, they never shall recede fully. We mourn our loved ones who have died because our lives seem empty without them. Our grief is a tribute to their impact upon us, and their absence causes us pain. Somewhere, someone is grieving the death of Osama, because he was someone's son and brother, spouse and father. I do not grieve for him because I did not know him, and certainly did not understand his madness. I do grieve for those who celebrate his death, who want to see the photos of his corpse, because, for them, the rage and anger and horror at his atrocities will not abate. It is very difficult to give up our need to get even, to feel that justice has been served. It is difficult, but not impossible. The message of Easter is that all of our attitudes, our fears and our hatred can be subsumed in the resurrection and we can rise to a new level of living in which we need not hate. For many Christians, the resurrection has only to do with life after death, but with no practical application here in this life. Christ's death and resurrection makes it unnecessary for us to need vengeance, because God has taken care of settling scores once and for all. Not even monsters like Hitler and Bin Laden get to have the final word. In life, in death, in life beyond death, we are not alone. God is with us. Thanks be to God.

Another Holy Week.

2011-04-15T07:17:00.000-07:00

Holy Week is again upon us. Palm/Passion Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Some years, these days bring special reflection and introspection. Other years, they seem like just another day on the calendar. No matter what kind of year I had been having, time was when Lent and Holy Week elevated my spiritual life in a way that sustained me through the rest of the year. I remember in high school, when my spiritual life was really in a growth spurt, that Good Friday was a day that transformed me and made the whole Easter celebration real in a way that it had never been before. Through college and divinity school, I always found a way to kick-start my spiritual life that enabled me to do my academic work with a sense of purpose. During the time that I served churches, I strove to make the whole Lenten/Holy Week/Easter experience something that could be transformative to my congregations. I met a huge challenge while serving a three-point charge in eastern North Carolina and discovered that Maundy Thursday was not something the people there had ever heard of, and they were not accustomed to coming to worship on Good Friday either. So, I grew in ways I had not expected in order to adapt to the local customs. Then I entered the wonderful world of campus ministry and was based at a large church that made the most of all religious holidays. We had Maundy Thursday services with stripping of the church, and Easter sunrise services with paschal fire, and a glorious service of resurrection, packed to the rafters and featuring magnificent choral music.
Since that time, I have been on my own, pretty much, to design worship and other experiences to appeal to small numbers of students who take the time for such observances. I was happy that my own daughter, for whom I was chaplain for two years, always took the time for such observances. She and I are so similar in the way that the religious holidays and observances shape our lives. At this point in my career and ministry, I had come to expect not much new when Holy Week rolls around. When I was able to get away on a Sunday morning, I attended a local United Methodist Church, just as I have all of my life. In the past years, I began to lose enthusiasm, for my church, and for the Christian year as it came round and round. Then I made the decision to find a church that speaks to me, liturgically and in terms of a commitment to social justice. In January I took a chance and attended the cathedral church of the local Episcopal diocese. Aside from a breathtakingly beautiful sanctuary, I found solid preaching, and a good mix of different people who made up the congregation. So, the next week I went back, with my wife and son joining me. Ever since, we have attend the cathedral, usually on Saturday evening for the Eucharistic service, since I have Sunday morning duties on campus. Occasionally, we are able to make it on a Sunday, and find our worship enriched by beautiful music, liturgies that bring the historic traditions of the church alive, and preaching that continues to challenge not just spiritually, but intellectually as well. Often, when pastors, especially those who work in higher education as I have done for almost twenty-five years, get to this stage of their careers and life, they become a bit more agnostic about the traditions and theologies of the church. I was certainly among them in the recent past. But this year, Holy Week holds great attraction for me, as a leader, and as a Christian. By recovering some of the wonderful liturgical traditions of my Methodist-Anglican heritage, I have reawakened to the message and challenge that is the mystery of our faith. My wish for you during this holiest of seasons is that the mystery of the passion, death and resurrection of our Lord may capture your spirit in a way that is new, familiar and utterly transformative. May you never be the same!

The Problem With Men...Sometimes. John 4:5 - 42

2011-03-21T11:22:00.000-07:00

Ever notice how women in the Bible are sometimes ascribed characteristics that are no where attributed to them in the text? Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, because that is how she is portrayed in "Jesus Christ Superstar" right? It must be for that reason, because there is no text that states that she is, or was a prostitute. In this Sunday's text, we have a meeting between a Samaritan woman and Jesus, at a well. She has become known as the "woman at the well", always announced with a change in tone of voice by many male pastors. She was an immoral woman, because Jesus sees through her and reminds her that she has had five husbands, and the man with whom she is currently residing is not her husband. Case closed..slut! Really? Does Jesus call her that? Does the text refer to her as that? The text gives us the facts. David Lose, who teaches at Luther Seminary, makes the point that, when Jesus talks about her five husbands and the current co-habitor, he does not pass judgment. Lose can take one's breath away when he states that the woman could have been abandoned by some of those husbands, as it was a common practice. The man with whom she currently resided could have been there to provide for her welfare, a household of convenience. The reason I find Lose's take on this passage so remarkable is that, after Jesus tells the woman all of these things about her personal life, he has not alienated her. Instead, she states "I see you are a prophet." Lose tells us that sometimes the word "see" is an indication of faith. So, maybe the woman at the well recognized Jesus as a prophet, one who dared to speak to a woman, a Samaritan woman, no less. In the preceding chapter, Nicodemus did not understand who Jesus was, and yet the woman at the well "got" who Jesus was, almost right away. Why? Is it a story about power and who really has access to it? Those who live on the margins are more likely to recognize the prophets among us, because they have fewer things competing for their attention. The woman runs home, forgetting her water jug, and tells her friends and neighbors about the remarkable prophet she has just met. In John's gospel, she is the first evangelist for Jesus.
So why have we not heard such an interpretation very often? Could it be because, historically, men in the church have not been great about giving women credit for their role in the establishment of the early church? Lose thanks a female friend for a discussion that engendered his thinking and commentary on the text. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, guys just don't get it.

How Much Do We Believe in God? Matthew 6:24 - 34

2011-02-25T08:17:00.000-08:00

There is a huge sycamore tree in our front yard that has a hole high up in the trunk where two large branches converge. We have a great view of that tree from our living room window. Often I have sat there, transfixed and amused by the carryings on of the many squirrels who live in our yard. That hole in the trunk is a popular destination, and, on any given day, squirrels can be seen carrying dried leaves and twigs into it, making a nest that must be comfy and warm. I have even seen birds and squirrels vie for the spot: when one leaves to get more fluff for the nest, the other quickly reclaims the hole. Possession seems to last until the latest resident has to leave and the other comes back. I once observed a squirrel carrying a load of leaves in its mouth that was too wide to get through the entrance to the nest. After several unsuccessful attempts to enter, the squirrel went back down the tree, returning a moment later with a more manageable load and was able to successfully navigate the entrance. The squirrels seem patient and even cheerful as they do their work, day after day. I have often wondered if they have bad days and moody times. They just seem to carry on, regardless of weather or circumstance. They really are quite miraculous creatures.
Jesus' remarks about the lilies of the field are among the most beautiful and imaginative in all of the gospels, in this writer's opinion. There is a majesty in the text that paints the most vivid pictures to underscore the meaning of the words. In our twenty-first century lifestyles of comfort and abundance, it may be difficult to capture the original intent of the words that Jesus spoke in their context. Most of the people in Jesus' time and place were desperately poor, and survival was very much a day to day operation. Many people tried to scratch out a living by working in the soil, or by fishing. The lilies of the field image was directed to the farmers in his midst. He reminds them that, though their lives are tied to the soil and to the creatures who also get their food from it, they are not called to become actual lilies or birds. The ultimate meaning of their lives is not defined by the soil in which they work, but is rooted in God's providential care for all creatures. The birds of the air, the flowers in the meadow, the men and women who struggle to subsist on the barest of essentials: all of these are under the providential care of God. The text reminds its readers that, though the needs of men and women are greater than those of plants and animals, God's love and sustaining care are adequate for the survival of all.
If our lives are to have true meaning, then they must serve something outside of ourselves. If a man or woman farms, and cares only about the actual work of farming, for example, he or she makes an idol of work. In addition, such a person may also begin to covet those things which he or she does not have because the financial resources are so limited. The rich may idolize the possessions which they have accumulated, and the poor may come to idolize those things which they do not possess. In either case, there is an insecurity born of a lack of trust. Do we really trust God for our immediate, as well as our ultimate survival? Can we find the confidence to state honestly that we believe that God does care for us? The answer to that question may sound very different coming from someone who has a good job and adequate shelter over against someone who is wandering the streets. But Jesus' message is clear: those who would call themselves his followers must possess the inner peace and fortitude to believe that their lives cannot fall out of the realm of God's loving care. We can have lengthy discussions about how that care is best demonstrated, and about what happens to our perceptions of that care when tragedy strikes, jobs are lost and dreams are shattered. But before we can move on to discuss those larger issues, we must be able to discern for ourselves if we really believe what Jesus says in this passage. To what extent do we really believe that God cares for us?

Don't Just Resist, Stand Against (With thanks to Walter Wink) Matthew 5:38 - 48

2011-02-17T12:31:00.000-08:00

One of the most oft used phrases in the English language has to be "turn the other cheek." We use it to denote times when we did not return anger for anger. More often than not, however, it takes on the connotation of someone who acts as a "doormat" and allows other to walk all over him or her. "Turn the other cheek" has come to mean a willingness to take abuse. Nothing could be further from the meaning Jesus intended when he used the phrase. Jesus does not tell his followers not to respond to evildoers, he tells them to resist without resorting to violence. One need not look deeply into scripture to read of allusions to non-violent resistance: Rejoice when you are persecuted, pray for deliverance from evil, love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you.
When Jesus admonished his followers to turn the other cheek, he was not telling them to acquiesce, but to stand against the persecutor. A superior would use the right hand to slap an underling, because the left hand was used only for unclean functions. In order to show superiority, the superior would use the back of the hand to strike the underling. If the underling then turns the other cheek and invites another slap, the superior is placed in the precarious position of having to use the palm of the hand to strike the underling or to not even try. To strike with the palm is to covey some sense of social equality. Even though the superior may choose to flog the underling mercilessly for the impudence shown, the action illustrates what is what is known as "standing against" and it has been used effectively recently in Egypt and other Middle Eastern countries where people's movements have sprung up. Sadly, the people have not always protested non-violently, nor have the governments responded non-violently. Thus, a cycle of violence has sometimes emerged, which is exactly what Jesus was speaking against.
Some have mistakenly called what Jesus taught a form of "passive resistance." Truth be told, there is nothing passive about it. In his day, a person who was owed a debt could take everything from the debtor, including his outer cloak. However, the cloak had to be returned at night, as many people had only their cloaks to keep them warm while sleeping. Jesus admonished his followers to give the upper cloak as well, which meant the debtor would stand stark naked before the lender. In keeping with the cultural mores of the day, the nakedness of the debtor brings shame to the person who observes his nakedness, not to the debtor. Conquering armies could require prisoners to carry their backpack for one-thousand paces. Rules of war being what they were, impelling someone to carry the pack any further than that could subject the soldier to disciplinary actions. So, carrying the pack more than the one-thousand paces could make a soldier very nervous, and the underling thus gained an advantage.
So, you see, there was noting wimpy about what Jesus suggested that his followers do when they were being persecuted. Standing against an oppressor puts that person or authority off-balance. It does not mean that retribution for the embarrassment will not be forthcoming for the underling, but it does mean that the one in power must act in the full light of the exposure which has been brought about by the underling standing against the powerful. It says "I am a human being just like you. I am a child of God. You can't put me down, even if you kill me." Martin Luther King, Jr. understood this concept, which is the reason his demonstrations and acts of civil disobedience changed a society. We need to reclaim Jesus' mandate never to return hate for hate and violence for violence. Instead we must claim the power inherent in recognizing all people as children of God. When an injustice is committed against one, it is commuted against all.

Justice Denied? Micah 6: 1 - 8

2011-01-25T10:17:00.000-08:00

Nearly one year ago, on a bright and sunny April afternoon, our home was robbed. My wife and I walked through the house, afraid of each discovery of something missing that we had not noticed before. The sight of the broken kitchen door, the confused look on the face of our cat who had just become a resident of our home the week before, the empty spaces where computers and radios had been just that morning, the vacant dresser-top where the wedding bands for our daughter's upcoming wedding had rested - it was almost too much to take in. Several weeks later the culprits were caught while robbing another home in the area. None of our possessions were recovered, but we had the chance to come face to face with our adversaries recently. Over a year after their crime spree began, the two men responsible for the string of robberies appeared in court for a preliminary hearing to determine if they should be bound over for trial. They were made to sit and listen as each of us who had been robbed gave testimony as to how we discovered the robberies and recounted what had been taken. I discovered that some individuals lost much more than we did, some of them also experiencing the death of spouses immediately before, or after, the burglaries. The defense attorneys each asked me if I had ever seen his client before. I looked each middle-aged man in the eyes, and one of them began to smile at me, and then, thinking better, perhaps, he dropped his gaze. No, I had never seen either one of them before that day in court. After the hearing, the men were bound over for jury trial, unless they plead out first.
While reflecting on this difficult year, my eyes came across the very familiar and beloved passage from the prophet Micah. "What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?" If one reads the verses that come before this final passage, one understands that Micah was not offering a harmless platitude here. His meaning is clear: God wants justice, not worship. God wants justice, not oppression. God wants us to love seriously, which is fair to the meaning of hesed, the elusive word in the Hebrew Scriptures that may be translated as steadfast love. If one loves seriously, justice will be served. Justice will be real when it is achieved for those for whom justice has always been denied. Looking into the eyes of our burglars, I could not help but try to imagine each as a young child, when he was innocent and looked at each day with wonder. What happened to change them? Was this crime spree a way of life, a lark, an act of desperation? Will the sentence meted out result in justice? I have no doubt that, for those of us who were robbed, there will be some sense of satisfaction and closure. But, for me, it will be a troubled peace, to be sure. Our penal system will not rehabilitate these men, but make them harder and more determined to be more careful next time. Our system of justice in this country is predicated on punishment, not reform. We will not "do justice" to them, for to do so would mean to forgive each man and work with him so that he will have a better and more productive and honest life in the future. Instead, as individuals, we will trust the system to deal with each man. We will worship, we will try to love others, and we will move on. And justice, I am afraid, will not be served. At least, not in the way Micah had envisioned.

Where is God?

2011-01-11T07:04:00.000-08:00

Whenever a tragedy occurs, it is inevitable among people of faith that the question will arise, "Where is God?" I would think that those who are skeptical of religion in general would also be asking that question right about now.Most of the victims of the shooting in Tuscon were active in their communities of faith. Should that not offer some form of protection? Should we just say to the families of those who were killed, "Well, God loves you." Even worse, folks will utter the blasphemous phrase, "It was God's will."
We have a need to make sense of tragedy. That is a normal response. Trouble is, sometimes we cannot make sense of tragedy, no matter what we say, or think, or do. and the shootings in Tuscon will never make sense to the families of those who died, or were injured. So, what can people of faith say at such a time? May I suggest that we take the example of Job's friends during the first week of his suffering. They sat in silence while he wailed and protested his innocence. When people are suffering and asking why something happened, do we think that they really want an answer? Does explaining the mental illness of the shooter really help make the event more palatable for the families and victims who survive? Will they be mollified by us explaining the ridiculous gun registration laws in Arizona? Does standing up and defending God to them make any sense? I would say no, it does not. God does not need us to act as defense attorneys. Job's friends ceased to be friends when they began to speak as to the reasons for his suffering. When tragedy occurs, what is needed is a love and silence that envelopes the suffering to let them know that they are not alone. The crazies from Westboro Baptist church have announced that they will picket the funerals of the victims of the shootings. Citizens in Tuscon have responded by planning an "angel action" whereby the families and attendees at the funerals will be shielded from the protesters by a phalanx of persons dressed in angels wings that are large enough to abscond the view of the protesters. Silent, prayerful presence is what they will offer. And that may be exactly what the families need right now, as they try to formulate their own questions. Let us be vigilant, prayerful and in awe of the reality that God will not abandon those who suffer, and never has. That does not mean that all questions are answered. After all, Job never did get answers to his questions or his protests of innocence. What he got, instead, was God. Could he have asked for more? Can we?

A Christmas Message

2010-12-21T07:39:00.000-08:00

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!!!

What To Do with Advent?

2010-11-28T17:50:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2010-11-17T10:36:00.000-08:00

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.

A Wee Little Man? Luke 19: 1 - 10

2010-11-01T05:42:00.000-07:00

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?

What Kind of Jesus?

2010-10-16T08:16:00.000-07:00

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.

What Is There to Say?

2010-09-23T16:23:00.000-07:00

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.

Islam and the World Trade Center Site, Redux

2010-09-10T10:36:00.000-07:00

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.

Lions and Tigers and Stephen Hawking. Oh My!

2010-09-03T07:27:00.000-07:00

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?

Ground Zero for Political Gain

2010-08-20T08:29:00.000-07:00

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.

Cool Atheism

2010-08-05T06:30:00.000-07:00

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.

Heaven

2010-07-30T12:01:00.000-07:00

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.

A Civilized Society?

2010-06-23T06:35:00.000-07:00

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.

On Being the Father of the Bride

2010-06-14T11:22:00.001-07:00

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.

A Time for Breathing

2010-05-20T05:54:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2010-05-07T07:32:00.000-07:00

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?"

The New Jerusalem Revelation 21:1-6

2010-04-30T10:29:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2010-04-23T07:18:00.000-07:00

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.

The Most Misunderstood Holidays in the Christian Year

2010-04-02T06:26:00.000-07:00

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.

Whom Are We Welcoming?

2010-03-26T06:13:00.000-07:00

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.

What Christians Do Best, or Worst.

2010-03-19T10:04:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2010-02-25T11:37:00.001-08:00

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.

Another Ash Wednesday

2010-02-17T07:26:00.000-08:00

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.

A God Too Familiar? Isaiah 6:1-8

2010-02-01T13:09:00.000-08:00

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.

Love is Fully Now and Fully Then - I Corinthians 13

2010-01-28T07:51:00.000-08:00

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."

Getting Back to Basics in the New Year

2010-01-08T07:02:00.001-08:00

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.

What's In A Name? Luke 3:1-6

2009-12-04T10:35:00.000-08:00

Every year at about this time, I meditate deeply on what I can say about John the Baptizer that will present him in a new light, or, at least, a different light than I presented him in last year! But we have so little information about John that it is difficult to find a great deal about him that will seem new. Then again, maybe that should not be my task. So, this year, I am going in a bit of a different direction.
What is behind the name "John?" Well, from the Hebrews we got y'hohanan, the Greeks pronounced it Ioannes, and both mean, loosely, "Yahweh has favored and is gracious." Of course, to fulfill the tenets of full disclosure, the name John also has a meaning derived from jakes, from the sixteenth century which means toilet. Then, of course, there is the name for the customer of a prostitute. So, let's stick with the biblical John, specifically, John the Baptizer. When reading the gospel accounts of John, it is not difficult to agree with the traditional definition of the name that expresses God's favor. Even Jesus commented that, of mortal men, no one was better than John. And John, who had a following all his own in those days, asked from prison if Jesus was the one for whom they had been waiting. Frederick Beuchner tries to imagine what John must have felt when the word came back that Jesus was, in fact, the one who had been foretold. Beuchner muses that "maybe he remembered how he had felt that day when he'd first seen him heading towards him through the tall grass along the river bank and how his heart skipped a beat when he heard himself say, "Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world." Peculiar Treasures, p. 71. John was an old-style prophet, a strange sort of fellow, but a man who gave his life for the kingdom that Jesus came to bring forth.
So, it is a bit daunting to possess such a name as John. So many expectations come with such a name, and how can one even hope to live up to its meaning? Perhaps the best that people with the name, John, and people of the faith, can do, is to live up to the inspiration that Jesus' cousin John brought to the name. If one looks in baby name books, John is defined as "God's gracious gift." John the Baptizer was such a gift. Why can't we be as well, regardless of our name? God breaks into our world during Advent, and perhaps God looks for people, male and female, who call to mind the John of the desert, the river and the prison. God looks again for people who bear the likeness of one known, so long ago, as God's gracious gift.

A King of All, Even Those Who Do Not Wish To Be Like Him. John 18:33-37

2009-11-20T06:29:00.000-08:00

We are preparing for the Sunday of Christ the King, or the Reign of Christ. I cannot help but think that the best way to celebrate the final Sunday in the Christian year is to emphasize, once more, how this king is different from any other king. Ralph Milton, writing in an e-zine for "people with humor" describes the paradox that this Sunday highlights. When we hear the scriptures read, does it ever occur to us what was running through the minds of those who wrote the words of the texts? The writer of John's gospel contrasts the roles of Pilate and Jesus, "But the people who wrote the Bible wouldn’t recognize today’s kings. What good is a king, Pilate would have asked, who owns no land, who can’t raise an army to defend himself, who doesn’t extort taxes, who refuses to force people to do things his way..." It is unlikely that the believers of the first century understood the kingship of Jesus any better than believers of the twenty-first century, which is to say, they didn't get it either. And they could not have imagined the standard of living that the majority of western Christians enjoy today.
We give lip-service to the concept of the kingship of Christ, thinking we understand it so much more than those folks so long ago. And yet, we continue to follow TV preachers who preach in churches that seat thousands, while the preachers themselves travel around on their own private jets. A friend recently wrote to me and mentioned the new sanctuary that his church is building, which will seat eight-hundred people, while cutting available parking space in half. The price tag for this expansion is twenty-million dollars.
Let's be honest, it is not that we don't understand what kind of king Jesus was; we just don't want to emulate that kind of kingship. It calls on us to give up too much and to think and live in a way much closer to the way that he lived. I can think of a few pastors and laypeople in my experience who did their best to live such lives, but they are exceptions. I live comfortably, though not extravagantly, by any means. Yet, I have so much more than a person in a developing nation could ever imagine. I claim to follow a king who had no earthy possessions, but I have not chosen to live my life in the same way. Most Christians are like me. So, in reality, we cannot celebrate the Sunday of Christ the King as if we really understand it. Perhaps the best that we can do is to enter that day with a sense of awe, and a willingness to try once more to see beyond what we want for ourselves so that we might discover how we can take another small step on the way to understanding what it should mean to live under the reign of Christ.

2012 - Just Another Year. Mark 13:1-8

2009-11-13T07:23:00.000-08:00

According to Mark's story, Jesus spoke the words of the "Little Apocalypse" on the Tuesday before the crucifixion. But the early Christians did not read the words of Mark's gospel until after the temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed. So, Jesus' prophetic words were not dealing with the fears of what was to come, but with the realities of what had already happened. The nightmare had come to pass and Jerusalem lay in ruins. But the story of Jesus' words uttered during the last few days of his life gave hope to people of all generations. When the temples and institutions of religion and government fall, there is no need to give up hope. The One who has existed from the beginning of time remains with us, and will be with us when our end time comes. Christians who read the gospels in the early centuries of the church knew all about fear and persecution and death; it was part of life and faith for them. They believed that it was possible to die with words of faith on their lips. The temple had been destroyed, but the church had survived, and continues, to this day.
With the opening of the film "2012" today, folks are chatting about the end of time. I have asked my students what they are hearing,and they all know some story of the end associated with the year 2012. Most of the hoopla began with the realization that the Mayan Long Count Calendar of 5,126 days turns over and nothing is listed following that time. Though it does not sell books and movie tickets to say it, the end of the Mayan calendar means that another cycle of time then begins. In America, at least, people prefer to be kept on edge, especially during the tough economic times that we are experiencing. So, pundits come forth will all manner of doomsday scenarios and folks line up to have their wits scared out of them. In addition to the 2012 phenomenon, the story persists of a giant asteroid that is hurtling towards earth and will hit us by 2016. If one takes the time to research this matter, one will find that the asteroid has a 1 in 43,000 chance of hitting the earth. The truth does not sell, so the fables arise in its place.
Mark's scary chapter 13 is actually a balm for nervous folks. Jesus warns his followers that there will always be those who claim that they know when the end will be. His advice? Don't listen to them. Keep faith in God, in good times and in bad, and the truth will not only set us free, but will carry us through to our end, and beyond. 2012 will be just another year, another artificial time period created by humankind to measure events. 2012 will provide opportunities to love and serve others, just as every year does. So, don't be rattled by the hype. Instead, be comforted, strengthened and inspired by the truth. And give thanks to God for another year of life.

An Amazing Grace - Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17

2009-11-06T06:35:00.000-08:00

As I was looking over the sermon resources for this week, I could not help but notice that few commentators commented on the text from Ruth, opting instead for the Markan passage about the widow's mite. Perhaps they felt that all that needed to be said about Ruth was spoken last week, when the text focused on Ruth's decision to remain with Naomi. How we love the "whither thou goest" language! This week, we are confronted with the story of what happened next: Ruth had to figure out a way to earn a living, and Naomi tried to figure out a way to find a nice Jewish husband for Ruth. Enter Boaz. Through some scheming, Noami and Ruth were able to get Boaz to notice Ruth, and to notice her in a big way. Boaz took quite a shine to her, and even though a kinsman of Naomi's late husband was next in line to court Ruth, he stepped aside so that Boaz might be the suitor. So, Ruth and Boaz married and had a child and Naomi had an honorary grandchild and all lived happily ever after. That sounds corny, and I cannot help but wonder if that is why so many folks ignore this passage this week. After all, what can one say about the story that was not covered last week?
Glad you asked! At its heart, the story of Ruth is the story of the Other. Andre LaCocue, in his book The Feminine Unconventional: Four Subversives in Israel's Tradition, makes the point that Ruth, a foreigner, was the embodiment of all that was despised by those who considered themselves "pure." "Ruth is not any foreigner in general. She belongs to a nation that, for Israel, represents perversion and destruction. Moabite females attempted to corrupt the Israelites coming from Egypt on their way to Canaan. Since then, the numerous references to Moab in Scripture are unanimously pejorative (85).
The true miracle of the story of Ruth is the outcome for Naomi, and, by extension, for the children of Israel. The law of levirite marriage provided a childless widow with the opportunity to have a son to carry on the family bloodline (Genesis 38, Deut. 25:5-10). Usually, the brother of the dead husband provided the necessary "services." In the case of Naomi, her ex-daughter-in-law, a Moabitess, was wed to a Jew, Boaz, and gave birth to a son, Obed. Through the machinations of Levirite marriage, Naomi's Jewish family bloodline was preserved through an outsider. And it should be noted that the child, Obed, grew to marry and he and his wife had a son, Jesse, who had a son, David..and you know the rest,right?
So, in Jesus' own bloodlines were women who were anything but insiders, Ruth and Rahab among them. How then, can people of faith ever stand by while folks are excluded from religious communities for any reason? Perhaps the story of Ruth is given scant attention for the very reason that it upsets the status quo, if that status quo is one that demands that the Other remain just that. The story of Ruth is the story of an amazing grace from a God whose love knows no bounds. Go ye, and do likewise.

You're Stuck with Me! Ruth 1:1-18

2009-10-29T08:01:00.001-07:00

In the past month, I have officiated at three weddings, which for me, is a high number. Were I still in the parish, it would not seem so high. I recall that the summer my wife and I were married was the summer that I performed seven weddings. By the time my wedding day rolled around, I could have been on automatic pilot. Fortunately, I was not. When I pronounce a couple husband and wife, I am always struck by the power of the words I have just uttered. Because of the words I have just spoken, a couple is bound together for life, at least, legally. In reality, they have probably bound themselves together in spirit long before. But on their wedding day, the bride and groom say to one another, if not literally, then figuratively, "You're stuck with me!"
Ruth was not stuck with Naomi, but she chose to be. Ruth and Orpha (spellcheck just suggested that this word should be "Oprah") were daughters-in-law to Naomi, living in their native land, Moab, Gentile territory. However, both of their husbands died and Naomi, a Jew, decided to return to Judah, her home. Naomi gave Ruth and Orpah permission to stay behind in their homeland and find new men to marry. She felt that they had no further obligation to her. Eventually, Orpah did decide to remain behind, but Ruth chose to go with Naomi. Ruth's words to her have captured the imagination of people of faith and moviemakers ever since: “Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go; Where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. ¹⁷Where you die, I will die— there will I be buried. May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!” Ruth 1:16-17 NRSV.
Ruth did not have to go with Naomi, there was no obligation to care for her now that they were no longer related by marriage. Ruth CHOSE to accompany Naomi back to her homeland, where Ruth would be an outcast. Her bonds of love superseded any practical concerns about her future and welfare. The Book of Ruth is a wonderful story, whether or not any such person really lived. But why is it in the Bible? Perhaps those who chose the books for the canon wanted to make sure that a book was included that illustrated radical devotion that grows from a sense of love and loyalty to illustrate the never-ending love of God for God's people. God voluntarily chooses to be stuck with us, for the long term.
Every time I perform a wedding, I am reminded of the story of Ruth, but not for the reason that people might imagine. More than one couple, including my wife and me, have included Ruth's words to Naomi in their wedding album! I think of the story of Ruth because, in the act of professing undying love and faithfulness to one another, a couple re-enacts God's promise to always be with us, no matter how thick-headed or unfaithful we may at times act. The story of the prophet Hosea and his naughty wife Gomer is another reminder of a long-suffering and ever-faithful God whose love is a pattern to be emulated by every set of individuals who pledge love and faithfulness to one another. Marriage and lifelong unions are not always pretty as they move through the years, and they seldom live up to the romanticized visions painted on the wedding day. But just as no amount of contrariness and rebelliousness can ever cause God to leave God's people, those who live together in marriage or lifelong unions will prosper if they but remember the story of a loving former daughter-in-law and mother-in-law and their journey together. In that tale is the story of our faith, our hope and our end.

True Reformation: Peace! Job 42:16 and Mark 10:46-52

2009-10-22T12:33:00.000-07:00

I have never been one to really celebrate Reformation Sunday, as I think it focuses too much on the differences between Protestants and Catholics, and Protestants and Protestants. But I think the use of the word "reformation" can be quite instructive this week. As has been true for the past seven years, at least, we are engaged in war. Much ink has been spilled of late speculating on whether or not we will, or should, pull out of Afghanistan. Fortunately, I don't have to make such far-reaching decisions in the course of a given year. But many people of faith have opinions on both sides of the issue when it comes to matters of war and peace. I think that the scriptures for the day can be helpful as we try to wend our way through the issues.
Although the lesson from Job for the week features Job's humble response to God's chastising in the previous two chapters, I want to go back to those chapters. In them, the Lord utters the following interrogative: "And the Lord said to Job: ²“Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty? Anyone who argues with God must respond.” ³Then Job answered the Lord: ⁴“See, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. ⁵I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but will proceed no further.” ⁶Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind: ⁷“Gird up your loins like a man; I will question you, and you declare to me. ⁸Will you even put me in the wrong? Will you condemn me that you may be justified?
Job was asking, quite rightly, according to our ways of looking at things, about the horrible condition of his life of late. Who cannot sympathize with poor Job and his state of utter destitution. But the Lord does not offer sympathy, but a question: "So, are you so smart that you know how I do what I do?"Job, realizing that the universe was just a bit beyond his comprehension, spake thus: Then Job answered the Lord: ²“I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. ³‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. ⁴‘Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you declare to me.’ ⁵I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; ⁶therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”
This story unsettles us, because we think that Job deserved an explanation, and he did not get one. So, perhaps our thinking can stand a bit of reformation? Let's move on to the story of Bartimaeus. Despite the calls of everyone around him to shut up, Bartimaeus, who was a blind beggar, called after Jesus. Jesus called back and asked that he come over to him. There is no placing spittle or mud in his eyes, no bathing in healing waters. When Jesus observed the man's sincerity, he told him to go on his way, for his faith had made him whole.
Both of these stories contain elements that lead us to understand that our thinking about life, death, God, etc, is in need of reforming. War continues to exist because people of faith still look at it as an acceptable alternative, and we sometimes attempt to remake Jesus in the image on one who thinks as we do. So, we need to read the Lord's response to Job and Job's response to the Lord, over and over again. Can we admit that we don't really understand God's ways and that we should, perhaps, spend more time in contemplation and prayer before we take actions that we think are justified by our faith? Bartimaeus got it right, when all those around him did not. Though Jesus told him to go on his way, for his faith had made him whole, he continued to follow. We should go and do likewise!

A Double Standard Mark 10:2-6

2009-10-02T10:29:00.000-07:00

I was a freshly minted M.Div. grad and was serving my first parish. I received a call on a Friday afternoon from a woman who asked if I would perform her wedding. She admitted that she had been on the phone all afternoon, being turned down by every pastor with whom she spoke, because she was divorced. Since there was divorce in my family, it was not something that I had ever thought should be a barrier to re-marriage. Even then, as a young man, I knew to ask questions as to whether or not the pain of that split had healed enough to give a second marriage a fair start and whether or not the divorced individual had become jaded about the whole idea of marriage in general. I have been surprised at how many couples have been so grateful that I would perform a wedding for them, since one or the other had been divorced. These days, most of the couples who come to me for premarital counseling have been living together for some time, and that is something that the church has also looked at with discomfort over the years. But many of us have come to the conclusion that we are happy that a couple wants to make a public commitment of faith and fidelity to one another, and we want to encourage that.
Jesus' comments about divorce are troubling. “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; ¹²and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.” If that be so, there are quite a few adulterers out there, and some of them are clergy!
We would do well to remember that Jesus was responding to a trap set for him by the Pharisees. If he said that divorce was wrong, he would have gotten himself into the same hot water that John the Baptizer had when he criticized Herod for breaking up his brother's marriage in order to secure his wife. If he said that there is nothing wrong with divorce, he would have been guilty of a blasphemy. So, what he did was to remind all present that men and women were created one for another, for companionship and happiness. As usual, he was looking at the big picture, and that transcended laws about marriage and divorce. He wanted folks to enter into marriage very seriously, with the intention of spending the rest of their lives together. And who better than Jesus, and God, for that matter, understands when unforeseen problems may cause a union to split? When a dissolution of the covenant occurs, are we to believe that one has no right ever to fall in love again? Is that the kind of God we claim to love, and who claims to love us?
I don't think pastors are as likely to refuse to perform marriages because of divorce as they were thirty years ago. I think we look at this scripture passage as a cautionary tale; couples should enter into marriage for life, not simply for convenience or as a filler for a temporary loneliness.
Having said that, why are many of us able to look at these verses with a larger view in mind of what Jesus might have met, but many cannot look beyond some much less specific verses concerning same-sex behavior and use those as absolute bans on same-sex unions? Shame on us for our double standard!

This Story is NOT an exclusive! Mark 9:38-50

2009-09-25T06:24:00.000-07:00

The disciple's concern seems to have been a reasonable one: they observed someone casting out demons and not doing so in Jesus' name. Shouldn't someone doing such an act give credit to the one who had perfected the method of doing so? If others were permitted to commit the acts of healing that Jesus performed, without attribution, wouldn't that dilute the brand? Jesus gave a wonderful response: "Whoever is not against us is for us!" WHAM! So much for exclusivity and being a special member of the club!

The disciples knew that they were on to something special with Jesus. When folks discover that they are a part of a movement that is achieving some form of notoriety, they sometimes want to keep the group small. Think of children, boys or girls, who found a kid's club in the back yard. It may be for girls only, for boys only, or for the kids who founded it, only. Such an activity is the first exposure to a form of exclusivity for many of us, and it feels good. It is grand to be a part of a group to which not just anyone is invited. Harvard is proud of its acceptance rate of just nine percent this year. When I was in college, fraternities and sororities tended to define themselves by whom they excluded, and not by whom they admitted.

Christians have not learned to let go of the club mentality, in some instances. Some churches seem more like country clubs, while other churches limit membership to those with beliefs that conform to the majority of members. But such places forget Jesus' admonition that those who imitate us are at least not working against us.

Christianity is a faith of the open door. Throughout the centuries, some faith communities have spent more time and money trying to figure out how to keep people out rather than how to make even more folks feel welcome. We need look no further than recent debates in American churches to see that we have a long way to go before all of the fences come down. My own denomination has been a great disappointment to those for whom the open door has been a hallmark of our heritage. Thankfully, a recent agreement with another denomination enables a full exchange of clergy between our faith communities. The Lord does, indeed, work in mysterious and wonderful ways.

Preschool: The Image of Christ. Mark 9:30-37

2009-09-16T11:29:00.000-07:00

There are several preschool classes that meet right next door to my campus. Often, we see the children playing on the quad, or the really tiny ones being moved around campus in mega-strollers that rival SUV's in size and comfort. The older toddlers will sometimes come on campus "leashed" together like a sled-dog team, always with a tot at the head of the line leaning forward to try to make the group walk to his or her pace. Last week, some of the older kids, in the four-to five year range, were playing on the quad. Two little girls were giggling as they kept pushing the other to the ground, only to have that child arise and push her opponent to the ground. The teachers had gathered the other children and were moving out, but had to pause while these youngsters played out their shoving match, with full belly laughs punctuating the mid-morning air.
Whenever I see these children on campus, I stop and watch them, with a mixture of laughter and tears. I laugh, because their laughter and frolicking nature is infectious, and I cannot help but to join in. Sometimes there are tears, because in these little ones I see my daughter, now a beautiful woman, when she was in preschool, walking along, singing, smiling and laughing. At other times I see my son, a handsome young man now, when he was little more than a toddler, ball cap on backwards, trying to climb on the jungle gym.
Perhaps it is because I am a father that I so love the instance in Mark when Jesus places a child before the disciples and tells them that when they see a child, they are seeing him. In that day, children were considered nuisances, invisible and powerless. Being a parent, I cannot fathom how such an idea about children can exist, even though I know of changing cultural norms. When we become parents, something that happens to someone else's child happens to our child, in a way. We identify with all children as if they were our own. We feel protective, proud or happy for them, just as their parents do.
A couple I know adopted a little girl from China. She had been found in a field when she was three weeks old. She had been left to die. Thankfully, she was rescued, and a little less than one year later, she was in a new home with a loving family. Jesus tells us that such children are the embodiment of Him. Christians cannot look into the face of a child without seeing the eyes of Christ. Think about that the next time children are playing in a yard or making noise with their excited chattering. At such times, we hear the voice of God!

It's Not Our House - Mark 7:24-37

2009-09-03T08:20:00.000-07:00

One common trait of many clergy is that they know what it is like to live in a house that does not belong to them. Though parsonages are becoming less common, there are still plenty of them around. Clergy families move into houses that have served as home for generations of families, and some of those houses have all manner of color schemes reflecting the personal taste, or lack thereof, of those who lived there previously. My first parsonage was falling apart when I arrived as a single pastor, with holes punched in the walls and a rocking toilet in the bathroom and shreds of wallpaper hanging from the ceiling downstairs. The master bedroom was painted lavender, and the kitchen had gray plastic tile up the walls and across the ceiling. When I left, five years later, the house was charming and greatly improved, at least, in my opinion.
The lesson from Mark this week reminds Christians that we inhabit a house that was not built for us. Our spiritual home was built for the children of Abraham, and we, through family circumstances, have become heirs of the house. Though we seldom think about it, we have more in common with the Syrophoenician woman in Mark's account than we would care to admit. Jesus treated her with feigned hostility, reminding her that she was technically allowed in the house, but she had the place of annoying pets who were tolerated, at best. The term "dogs" was commonly used at the time to be descriptive of all Gentiles. The actual Greek word would translate as "little dog" or "puppy." Of course, we twenty-first century types imagine a cute and cuddly puppy whom no one could despise. The view in the ancient near east was not as loving, and Gentiles were despised. Scholars have puzzled for a long time over Jesus' hostile treatment of the woman. In the best light, he is described as having thrown a challenge to the woman to see how she responded. In the worst light, he is portrayed as a man of his time and place, complete with ethnic prejudices. Regardless of the motive, his words about the children's food being kept from the dogs must have cut like a dagger in the heart of the women whose daughter lay ill. She loved her daughter enough, and perhaps had enough faith in a God who would embrace even those outside of the "family" to dare call on God's mercy. Jesus could not resist, and the child was healed, without even having to be in Christ's presence. Heidi Husted, writing in the Christian Century on August 16th 2000, states that this is the day that the gospel "went to the dogs." Mark shows us how Jesus opened the good news of the gospel to the world. We Christians are not the first heirs of the "big house" but we have been invited to make it our home. Can we do any less than offer the same hospitality to the excluded in our world today?

Imperfect Leaders of True Faith

2009-08-31T07:32:00.000-07:00

My commentary on the lectionary texts will return later this week. Over the weekend, I watched both the funeral of Senator Ted Kennedy and a documentary about former President Jimmy Carter. It is interesting that I should have focused in on these two men, since they were bitter rivals during the presidential primary in 1980. But they have a commonality that binds their lives together: their Christian faith. Kennedy was a deeply flawed individual, and the mere mention of his name will induce his critics to invoke the name of Mary Jo Kopechne, the young woman who died in the famous traffic accident off Chappaquiddick Island. He was also a drinker and partier, most famous for his bad influence on William Kennedy Smith, his nephew, who was charged, and then acquitted, with rape. With all of this on his resume, it is a wonder that Kennedy can be remembered for anything positive. But he did much good for the country, and his was a voice that spoke out for the poor, the elderly, those with physical disabilities and those needing healthcare. Many are wondering if anyone will aside in congree to take up his agenda for social reform.
Jimmy Carter is not considered to have been a great president, and his greatest legacy may consist of the things he has done since he left public office in 1980. While other former presidents travel the lecture circuit to pad their bank accounts, Carter has worked tirelessly with Habitat for Humanity, helped to create the Carter Center at Emory University, which seeks to advance the cause of world peace, and was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. A couple of years ago, Carter came under attack from members of the American Jewish community, and world supporters of Israel for using the term "Apartheid" in the title of a book that discusses the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. The documentary, Jimmy Carter: Man From Plains, shows in great detail the abuse that Carter took from people who had, up to that point, agreed with his efforts for peace in the region.
In the lives of Kennedy and Carter, their Christian faith formed the foundation for their prophetic activity. Such a faith does not proclaim that either man is, or was, without flaw, but that each man spoke from the heart of his religious beliefs in order to call attention to what he saw as social injustice.
We live in a time when congress is hopelessly partisan and unlikely to bring about any major legislative reform that will benefit the people of the United States. Even our president, whose election brought such hope to so many, has shown signs of bowing to the forces of political expediency, especially in the matter of healthcare reform. President Obama also claims a faith rooted in the Christian tradition. May the lives of Kennedy and Carter remind him of what is possible when one puts the needs of others ahead of immediate political security and expediency.

A Second Look at a Remarkable Entrance

2009-07-30T17:51:00.000-07:00

I had heard about the wedding entrance at the Kevin Heinz-Jill Peterson wedding in Minnesota that had popped up on YouTube this past week. So, I watched it. Immediately, I thought it inappropriate. I was not familiar with the song and I thought that the dancing was a bit over the top. I thought of all of the couples that will try their own version so that they can get onto YouTube and get their fifteen minutes.
And then a strange thing happened - I watched the video again, and again and again. It was not until about the third or fourth time through that I realized what it was that kept me coming back. The sense of sheer joy that permeated the whole event is undeniable. Watch the video and look at the faces of everyone in the wedding party, the members of the congregation and even the pastor, God bless her open and welcoming heart. Several biblical images now come to mind whenever I watch that video. A few weeks ago the lectionary included a reading where David danced, half naked, before the ark. He danced with pure joy and devotion to God, for he felt that he had done a good thing by bringing to ark to Jerusalem. And today, when I watched the video and observed the section where the whole wedding party reassembled in the back of the church and came down the aisle together, in a processional that reminded me for all of the world of the biblical description of Palm Sunday, I was moved again. Follow that with a joyous bride hardly able to control her happiness as she boogies down the aisle and I ask, how could God not be smiling? The youth and vitality and sheer happiness of those involved in the dance is inspiring and will assure that the knock-offs that are bound to appear on YouTube soon will be faint copies at best. Jill and Kevin, may the joy and sheer exuberance of your wedding entrance remain a part of your married life always.

Mark 6.14-56.. John Had the Last Word

2009-07-06T12:43:00.000-07:00

I am always amazed by the blank stares I get from students when I ask what, or who, a prophet might be. I should say that I get blank states after I tell them that, no, it's not someone who predicts the future. I like Walter Brueggemann's definition of a prophet as one who criticizes, energizes and proposes a new way. His take on this is important, because anyone can criticize. Criticism is one of our favorite pastimes: we love to moan and complain. It becomes more difficult to carry out the second criteria of prophetic speaking, energizing. We can gripe and say what is wrong, but only a few can actually get people's attention and begin to energize them with thoughts about the way things could be. Barack Obama was able to do that during the eternal election season of last year....and the year before. He captured the imagination of the American people, especially young adults, in a way that no one had for quite some time. As now President Obama is discovering, it is very difficult to carry out the third criteria of prophetic speaking, that of providing a roadmap for a new way. No matter how much we may say that we want something new, we are very attached to the old ways, and cannot escape thinking in terms that Brueggemann refers to as the "royal consciousness" which is the mindset that is determined to hold on to power at all costs. Many people don't want the changes in the tax structure and health care, to name two elements, that must happen for a new way to emerge. Vested interests are loathe to relinquish power.
John the Baptizer didn't care what it cost him to speak truth to power. The Bible portrays him as somewhat of a curious character. He lived in the desert for a while, maybe Qumran, maybe with the Essenes. He dressed in animal skins and ate honey and wild locusts which were probably the pods of the locust tree, and not the bugs. Sorry, sci-fi fans. Because John had publicly criticized the shenanigans perpetrated by Herod to get his brother's wife for himself, Herodias, said wife, was upset with John. When the opportunity came to silence him through her daughter's request to have John's head on a platter, Herodias must have thought it was a good day indeed. She was able to silence John, eternally. Or did she? John spoke of the new kingdom and the one who would bring it. In spite of John's death, a glimpse of the kingdom came with Jesus. Though the kingdom has yet to come in all of its fullness, we people of faith are supposed to be working for it and looking for it. When we speak prophetically, meeting the above-mentioned criteria, doesn't John, in fact, have the last word?

What About The Shack?

2009-06-22T07:55:00.000-07:00

Though I tend to shy away from popular theology and psychology books, I thought I would give The Shack, by Wm. Paul Young a read. Having done so, I am not sure what I think about the book. I cannot escape the suspicion that Young has read Dorothy Bryant's The Kin of Ata Are Waiting for You, which predates his book by at least thirty years. His book does challenge one's preconceptions about God's appearance, and I am for anything that dares us to think of God in new and unusual ways. I don't agree with Eugene Peterson's blurb on the front cover that this book will "do for our generation what John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress did for his." I should confess here that
I am not a fan of The Message, so Peterson will not sell me on many things. I wonder why it is that Americans jump on books such as The Shack. I think it has to do with a desire to get at some kind of eternal truth, but not requiring the effort of long-term deep thought and study. Young's work does not require much deep reading, though it is not without some shining moments. There is just one line in the book that stays with me, where a Jesus-like character is speaking affirmatively about the many religions of the world and people's ideas about God. And so the subject of the book, Mack, asks if that means that all roads lead to God. The Jesus character replies, "No, but I will travel down any road to find you." Aside from that, I don't think that the book breaks any new ground, especially when it comes to dealing with tragedy. Try as we may, there is no way to make tragedy easier to understand. Truth is, very bad things happen to people, regardless of how religious they may, or may not, be. Without giving away the plot of the book, I think Young copped out and did not address the agony of Mack in dealing with his tragedy. I think Dorothy Bryant did a better job of that in the above-mentioned book.
So, do not count me as a member of The Shack bandwagon.

Summer is a Time for Reading

2009-06-10T10:38:00.001-07:00

I don't know about you, but summertime is a great time for me to do some free reading. Since classes have ended, I have more time to read, though I still work at the office daily. I have read through most of Parting the Waters: America in the King Years, 1954-1963 by Taylor Branch. It is volume I of a trilogy, and the other books, Pillar of Fire: America in the King Years, 1963-1965 and At Canaan's Edge: America in the King Years, 1965 - 1968 are waiting on my night stand.
I tend to have several books going at once, as do many other folks. I am also reading Jesus Was a Liberal by Scotty McClennan. So far, I have found it refreshing to read someone who, also a university chaplain, thinks in many ways as do I. I also picked up recently I Was a Stranger: A Christian Theology of Hospitality by Arthur Sutherland. Another volume that I intend to get through before school starts is Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable Enemies by David Bentley Hart. Hart is a scholar who takes on Hitchens, Dawkins and others and states that their "revolutionary" arguments are nothing new.It's a deep read, so I will breathe deeply while wading through it.
If you have a favorite book that others who look at this blog may find of interest, please comment and we can all read it there. Have a great summer and happy reading to you!

A Glimpse of the Kingdom

2009-05-28T05:50:00.001-07:00

The academic year has ended, Commencement commenced and now I prepare for next year. I forget, sometimes, how little life on a college campus has in common with the outside world. Take yesterday, for instance. I was chatting with someone who recounted, in horror, the time that her daughter brought home a guy of another race. This person and I grew up in the same region of the country, so I knew the mindset out of which she was speaking. However, I found myself taken aback and not able to identify with her feelings of shock and disapproval. There was another instance, recently, when I was talking with someone and the subject of same-sex attraction came up. Immediately, it was obvious that we were not on the same page regarding the subject.
These instances, and others that I could cite, attest to the world in which I live and work. It is a world in which the population changes every four years and life seems always in a state of flux for that reason. I lead worship services for a congregation that is racially mixed oftentimes, and I forget that such is not the case in many places of worship in the United States today. I meet with students who are looking for advocates to help sustain their efforts to bring attention to instances of injustice in the world, and , sometimes, on campus. In such a small community as a liberal arts college, folks get to know one another well. More so than on the outside, students become protective of one another, even if they don't share one another's ideologies or political or religious beliefs. Therefore, whenever I chat with someone who does not work in such an environment, I am caught off guard sometimes by an individual's fear of someone from a middle-eastern country, or a person of another race, or of someone who is gay or someone who has differing political views.
You see, I work with young adults who often make stupid choices regarding alcohol consumption and can be promiscuous sexually, though the majority are not. But these young people are also determined to be more accepting of those with whom they differ, and who are less likely to think that race or ethnicity matter in relationships as much as folks of my generation do. I can offer new interpretations of the Gospel that would cause an uproar in the parish, but here, such ideas about Jesus' concern for all people and my enthusiasm for interfaith cooperation are met with joy and a willingness to explore new avenues of ministry. So, it occurs to me that, though life in an academic community can exhaust one in ways unimagined outside the campus perimeter, life here is shot through with idealism, energy and hope. Working with students who are so accepting of one another gives me a glimpse of the kingdom of God that not many get to see.

F.O.G. - F.O.J. John 15:9-17

2009-05-13T06:04:00.000-07:00

When Bill Clinton was running for president, and afterward, members of his inner circle were known as F.O.B.'s, as in, Friends of Bill. Barry Chance, writing in the on-line source, Join the Feast, speaks of the people who practice the kind of love Jesus talks about in John 15 as Friends of God and Friends of Jesus. The love which John describes, agape love, is a selfless giving for others. It was the kind of love that defined Jesus. In John's gospel, those whom Jesus loves are defined as philios, the friends of Jesus who experienced that transforming love. Gandhi is said to have stated that he liked the tenets of Christianity very much. He never converted to Christianity because he said that he did not see Christians living out the love that Jesus proclaimed.
On more than one occasion, my wife has turned to me and stated that she is very glad that I chose a career in ministry in higher education as opposed to life as a parish pastor. And she knows that of which she speaks; I was a parish pastor for more than seven years. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I experienced such transformative love and encouragement as a young divinity school graduate by the folks of my first parish. Later, I served a small parish in another state, and one of the churches on that circuit exemplified some of the most unloving behavior that either my wife or I had ever experienced. She stopped attending the women's group because most of the time was spent gossipping about women who were not in attendance. Don't get me wrong; there is nastiness everywhere, including among students on a college or university campus. However, I have seen more evidence of the transformative power of love and acceptance in the lives of the students with whom I work than I have the less attractive side of life. Young adults can have a tremendous capacity for changing their minds and opening themselves to new ideas. I see so much less of the hatred towards some segments of society when I am with them than I read about in church publications or hear at annual conference. I have met so many young adults who are F.O.G.'s and F.O.J.'s. They live out the kind of love that Jesus talks about in John's gospel, the kind of love that some folks in the church deram about but despair of seeing come to fruition. Perhaps these same young adults will lead the way towards helping the church reclaim that love that is visible, certainly in some churches and faith communitites, but nearly enough of them.

Abiding Love - John 15:1-8

2009-05-06T07:25:00.000-07:00

When my niece was baptized, I asked a friend to sing a song entitled "Abiding Love." I have not heard that song since, and I think the reason I chose it way back then was because she sang it so beautifully, and because I had a crush on her. I was a teenager then, and the word abiding had a limited meaning, because I had not lived long enough to know what it meant for something or someone's love "to abide." Now that I have the wisdom that comes with being fifty-something, I have a better idea.
In John's gospel, Jesus speaks of abiding in us and us abiding in him. I know that I understand that passage very differently than I did when I was in college. My Christian friends and I looked at the idea of Jesus abiding in us as having an exclusive hold on that love, because so many other students were not like us. It is easy to overlook the fact that, in the same passage where Jesus speaks of abiding love, he also speaks about the need to prune the vines every now and then. I was moved by an old column written by Walter Wink, as he referred to such a pruning process in his own life. He likened it to cooking in the fires of purgatory, and then reflected on its true meaning for him: Something in me stayed with the process simply because God was in it. This, too, was a way to abide. "Abide in me and I in you," even in the purgatorial fires of individuation. Abide in me, even when it feels as if you are being consumed. Abide in me, for there are branches that, when pruned, can be used to build the inferno in which you can be cooked, and cleansed, and slowly shaped into a human being.
I like to think I have become a better human being as a result of the pruning in my own life. That pruning has come in the form of reprimands, encouragement, loss, love, rejection, wilderness wanderings, mountaintop experiences and God's gracious forbearance in waiting me out when I have felt rebellious. Abiding love - God's assurance that we will not have the last word.

A Deeper Look at the Good Shepherd- John 10:11-18

2009-04-29T06:57:00.000-07:00

The text in which Jesus refers to himself as the Good Shepherd is a challenging one for the simple reason that we are pretty sure that we know what a good shepherd is like. Many of us learned the words to Psalm 23 when we were just tots, and we cannot help but apply those images to Jesus, just as he probably had the same Psalm in mind when he referred to himself as the Good Shepherd. Often, when I have spoken about this passage, I have referred to sheep as being less than intelligent, which is why it can be such a challenge leading them. I was told recently that sheep do not have great eyesight, so they tend to focus on what is close at hand. I don't know if that is true or not. However, I came across some writings this week that cause me to want to look at this familiar passage again with eyes that fully embrace the shepherd imagery.
Harvard chaplain Peter Gomes once wrote about the custom in early New England of referring to the founding of churches as the "gathering" of the church. Cornerstones are inscribed with the words "..Gathered in 1687..." instead of "founded." What a different dynamic such language sets up for us. To say that a church was founded calls to mind a small group of folks establishing a congregation, electing officers and scheduling meetings. Or, perhaps that is my United Methodist heritage peeking through. However, to gather a congregation calls to mind the actions of another, a leader, a caretaker, a shepherd, if you will. It fosters the idea that God had a part in bringing said congregation into being that the word founded just does not communicate. God was there at its gathering to nurture and care for the congregation, just as a shepherd or shepherdess gathers and cares for a flock.
In my reading I came across the opening words to the Heidelberg Catechism, the foundation document of the Reformed Church, and ancestor of the United Church of Christ. The catechism asks, "What is your only comfort in life and death?" The first two elements of the response: "That I belong, body and soul - in life and death - not to myself, but to my faithful savior, Jesus Christ."
When one combines the image of being gathered together by God with the affirmation that one belongs not to oneself, but to a faithful savior, the image of the Good Shepherd comes alive with life-altering force. Nothing else needs to be said.

How Do We Keep the Feeling? Luke 24:13-35

2009-04-22T06:40:00.000-07:00

Though the lectionary deals with the end of Luke's 24th chapter this week, I have chosen to discuss the first part of the chapter. I am continually intrigued by the account of the journey to Emmaus and the revelation that took place there.I prefer the first part of the chapter, because in that account, by the time that his followers recognize him, Jesus disappears from their midst. The assigned text for the day, from the latter part of the chapter, has Jesus appearing to the disciples, eating in front of them and showing them his wounds. It smacks too much of our need for proof, and I think we need to spend more time getting away from that kind of thinking.
The two people traveling to Emmaus, Cleopas, about whom we know nothing else, and an unnamed companion, are joined by a third person, who seems oblivious to the goings on of the past few days. The walk takes place on Sunday evening, so news of the purported resurrection of Jesus that morning had reached their ears, though they did not know what to make of it. The stranger who walked with them was surprised that they did not seem to grasp the natural progression of events, and he told them as much. He then taught them as one who knew about such things. Just as the conversation was getting really interesting, they reached their turn-off on the road and the stranger appeared to be going on ahead. Customary rules of hospitality bade them to invite him to their place for food and lodging, and he accepted. While they were eating, in the breaking of bread, Jesus was made known to them, and then he was gone.
We just hate it when that happens. Just as God is within reach, God hot-foots it out of there.But what is more important than the fact that Jesus was made known to them was the way they felt when he was with them. "Did our hearts not burn within us?" was the way the fellow travelers expressed their amazement. And that, I think, is at the heart of our longing for some kind of encounter with a physical manifestation of God. Ronald Goetz, writing in the Christian Century years ago, stated that what the believers experienced was "not a revivification of the man they had known, but rather, one knowable only by a miracle of self-disclosure." Goetz then went on to get at the heart of our longing by comparing it to the experience of the commingling of the bonds of affection that occurs between friends or lovers. Those first encounters are almost over-powering in the mutual experience of common interests, feelings and even passions. Can we remember the first date with a current or former lover? Remember the quickening of the pulse, the clammy skin when you finally got up the courage to actually hold hands? Recall the intense longing after you parted, whether for a day, or forever? On the flip side, how about those who remained friends or lovers after those initial feelings of shared affection? Have you found yourself trying to reclaim those early fireworks, only to find that now you seem bored, or at least uninspired with the relationship? Goetz stated that the Other, who became almost as real as one's own self, does not and cannot stay. Moods change, interest fades, the Thou becomes an It. That first moment cannot last. Like the heavenly manna of the Exodus, the experience of that initial love cannot be stored and preserved.
When Jesus vanished from the midst of his new friends, they had only the memory of how they felt when in his presence. It's fleeting nature is what made it so exciting, so precious, so remarkable. As they, and the early church would soon discover, that memory would have to be enough. And it must be enough still. We cannot recreate those moments of self-disclosure, either by God, or by friends and lovers. We can only treasure them, meditate on them and try to understand them in the context of our fleeting lives. They are blessings on the journey and signposts to the Kingdom that awaits us, in this world, and the next.

So, What DID Become of Sin? I John 1:1-2:2

2009-04-16T08:21:00.000-07:00

Yes, there was a famous book written by Dr. Karl Menninger back in the 1960's whose title asked "Whatever Became of Sin?" I even have that book on my office bookshelf; it was one of the first books I bought for free reading when I was a divinity student. As I recall, I read about half of it. Menninger was a psychotherapist, and he wondered if we had risen above the need to call anything sin anymore. He felt that we attempted to explain everything away through psychological processes and counseling. I still think his point was valid. Don't get me wrong, after all, I hold a graduate degree in counseling, so I do believe in its merits. But I have come to believe that we so misunderstand the whole concept of sin that it has been rendered mostly meaningless. But it really should not be so.
Now, let's think about what comes to mind when we say the word "sin". Is a sin telling a lie, falsifying one's income taxes, or going too far when out on a date? Many of us were raised with such definitions of sin. But to think of sins as individual acts misses the true meaning and danger of sin. The writer of I John asks how we can say we have no sin when we are sinners? By denying we are sinners, we become liars. Truth is, sin is not individual acts but a state of being. I think sin is reflected in the general cynicism, dishonesty and judgmental way in which we tend to view others. Instead of practicing the Christian hospitality that welcomes the stranger so that he or she becomes a friend, or at least a member of our community, we exclude folks who do not measure up to our idea of what is acceptable. We all remember the boy or girl in junior high and high school who did not fit in for whatever reason, and who was mocked and isolated by other students.
I cannot help but mention the saga of the latest media darling, Susan Boyle, whose audition for Britain's Got Talent has catapulted her into international stardom. She is a plainspoken woman from Northeastern Scotland who happens to have been blessed with a remarkable singing voice. Before she sang on the show, the judges and audience members treated her with a condescending sense of tolerance and amusement. After she sang, they fell over one another praising her. Susan Boyle has touched me deeply, because hers is a story of one who has had a challenging life; she was born with a slight disability that causes here to be perceived as lacking in social graces. She has been the target of neighborhood kids who ring her doorbell and run away. After her performance on TV, she remarked on how great it is to be congratulated by children in the street. So, what has changed to make her suddenly cool? People saw another side of her, there is a groundswell of love and support for her now, and folks are caught in that rising tide. But Susan Boyle, a faithful Catholic who cared for her elderly mother for years, has always been special in the eyes of God. Why is it that many who live in her village did not think so until now?
We have just come through the miracle of Easter; can we change our daily behavior to reflect that miracle? Can we love the unlovable, laugh with, and not at, people who do not seem to fit in? Can we admit that sin, properly understood, is a condition that causes us to separate ourselves from the realm of God's love for all people? And do we have the willpower to rise above the common cynicism of our time to show zero tolerance anytime anyone is singled out for ridicule, or cast out of the "accepted" community. I hope so, because only then can we say that we are trying to rise above sin and walk in the truth about which the writer of I John spoke.

Another Easter, Another Missed Opportunity?

2009-04-13T07:06:00.000-07:00

We have come through another Easter Sunday, with churches filled to the brim and folks feeling inspired afterwards. I don't think we will ever know, truly, what brings people out to church on Easter Sunday. Unlike some more skeptical folks, I don't think it has as much to do with making a fashion statement as it does with folks wanting to feel that they are part of something very special. So, once a year our churches are full and we have such an opportunity to address the meaning of the day. And I cannot help but feeling that we never really address it in the way that would be most effective.
I could not help but notice that, although we are in the lectionary cycle that features the gospel of Mark, John's account is also offered as the text for Easter Sunday. The church that my family and I attended used the Johannine passage. I am curious as to why the Markan account is not enough for the day and why we have to fall back on John's more detailed account. And what if we read the account from Mark and stop where many of the most ancient manuscripts did, at 16:8? Instead of an account where Mary sees Jesus at the tomb and assumes that he is the gardener, Mark gives us an account of a young man in the tomb who tells folks not to be alarmed, but the Jesus they have come looking for is not in the tomb, but has gone before them into Galilee. The young man told them that they would see Jesus there, out in the world among folks, just as he had told them. Why is that account not enough for us?
People come out on Easter and they want a show, they want the stops pulled out all the way. Might I go so far as to say that they want whatever proof the pastor can offer that the story is true? That task may seem easier with an account that has Jesus actually appearing to the disciples. Even Mark's gospel has an alternate ending, with more of Jesus and less left to the imagination.
As for me, give me the shorter ending every time. The empty tomb is plenty for me; I don't need to read about Jesus appearing to many people, as if such an account can remove all of the desire for more proof that each of us wants, secretly, or not. Truth is, I want it to be left to me to figure out, on my own. I know the story, I know the faith, so let me try to reason it through. Make me think it through, pray it through, read it through. I want to be challenged to look for Jesus "out there" among the people. I think we get way too attached to the empty tomb. I remember reading long ago that when we have an empty tomb, all we have is a tomb without a body in it.We should spend less time wondering if the shroud of Turin is authentic, because it means nothing. What matters most is the life that Jesus lived, and the sacrifice that he made on Friday. Students are amazed when I tell them that I believe Good Friday to be the most important day of the Chrsitian year. It is the authenticity of Jesus, his faithfulness to the message that he taught, and to his calling from God, that matters most. He was loving, obedient, and his words and his activities were seamless; he was the real deal. I prefer Mark's shorter ending, because it makes me keep looking for Christ in everyone I see and everywhere I go. That is something that lasts longer than the Easter Sunday service; it renews me daily, all year long.

What's Good about "Good Friday?"

2009-04-06T10:15:00.000-07:00

I just spent an hour with some students discussing why Good Friday is considered good by Christians. To make the discussion more interesting, I asked them to try to imagine that they had to answer the question without knowing about what happened on Easter Sunday. It turned out to be a real stumper. One student discussed the atonement, and I reminded him that the atonement was a doctrine that evolved in hindsight, and would not have been on the minds of Jesus' followers on that Friday. Seeing that the good folks were really trying to get this, I asked them to think about other events during what we now call Holy Week, and also other events that they could think of where Jesus was making points about the kind of faith he was proclaiming. Finally, one of them said, "because, in his death, he was living up to what he had always taught about sacrifice." Bingo!
For me, Good Friday became more meaningful when I ceased to be fascinated with the details of the day. After all, none of the gospel writers agree on every detail, so trying to come up with the "ultimate chronology" proves to be a less-than-satisfying endeavor. Looking at Good Friday for what the day has to say without looking to Sunday can be a tricky, but very rewarding adventure.
I grew up in a town that used to have a three-hour Good Friday service that was sponsored by the local ministerial association. The services were broken into half-hour segments, and different clergy would preach during each segment. Folks could come and go between segments. As luck, and God's sense of humor, would have it, my first parish after graduation from divinity school was located four miles from my hometown. So, I became a member of the very same ministerial association that had sponsored those services during my youth, and they were still doing them. During my second year in that parish, I was scheduled to preach at one of the segments of the three-hour service. The pastor who preached during the segment before mine told people to lose the long faces, that Good Friday did not matter because Easter Sunday was to follow. Then I followed him and called attention back to the day at hand. I remember playing to a tough room that day.
We prefer happy endings to our stories, even the stories of our faith. But I am an advocate of not moving ahead too quickly with the events of Holy Week. If we are too squeamish to even contemplate the agony of the cross before skipping ahead to the joy of Easter morning, how can we identify with the sacrificial nature of the faith to which we are called by God? What does a faith that has no room for dealing with tragedy, sadness and injustice have to do with us? On Good Friday, God made it clear to the world that God was not above knowing the pain of loss. I would much rather serve a God who can identify with my station in life than one who is only about the triumphal side of faith. Easter Sunday has little meaning apart from the events of Good Friday. We will do well to remember that.

My Kingdom for a Towel! Mark 14:51-52

2009-04-01T07:47:00.000-07:00

There is one thing I can always count on when discussing Mark's passion narrative with students: they have never noticed the account of the young man running away from the garden after Jesus' arrest. They don't really pay attention until I remind them that the text states that he "ran off naked." Of course, because I attended college in the 1970's, I never fail to describe the practice of streaking, which was all the rage on campuses (and at the Academy Awards) at that time. They usually stare, not understanding at all why anyone would think such a practice was even the least bit cool. I cannot help but agree with them, though I cannot understand in the least why some of them think it is cool to drink beer from a hose! I guess it's all a matter of perspective.
But the story of the young man running out of the garden in his all-together has always fascinated me; why is it there? Why did Mark, and Mark alone, include this account? What can it possibly add to the story? Some scholars believe that he may have been a young man who was asleep in the house whose upper room Jesus and the disciples had just used for the Seder meal, and who awoke and followed them to the garden. If the house in which they met was the house of Mary, the mother of John Mark, it may be a bit of autobiographical license by the evangelist himself. Why would he include such an account and what theological purpose could it serve? Perhaps the author is saying, "You can believe this account, because I was there!" It is certainly not the first time an author or an artist has included him or herself in a story or a piece of artwork. It's a way of adding a sense of authenticity to a work. For Mark, it may have been a way for him to reassure the fledgling Christian community that had been demoralized by the destruction of the Temple and the city of Jerusalem itself by the Romans that they could believe in what Jesus had promised, because he, Mark, had witnessed the events himself.
Strange as it may seem, I really appreciate this odd little verse in the midst of such a painful story of our Lord's betrayal and death. The little notation about a young man who was probably not prepared for the intrigue that was to occur that night brings the story down to our everyday level. We struggle to understand this faith of ours, no matter how long we have been believers. Christianity requires daily re-examination, because it strains our understanding, and at times, our willingness to believe what was written so long ago. In this vignette about a young man who did not dress properly for what he may have thought was a low-key garden party, we are thrown a tiny lifeline for our faith. Here is someone who may not have really understood what was happening, and who hot-footed it out of there when things became tense. What was initially embarrassing, running away naked, in front of God and everyone, became for Mark, a seal of authenticity. He might have been telling his readers to take what he said as truth, because he was there and saw and heard it all. Who among us would not give all we have for a chance to under-dress for that particular garden party, even if we too ran away?

A Surprising Lenten Journey

2009-03-24T12:57:00.001-07:00

I have embarked on a journey that I did not intend to be a spiritual wandering, Lenten style, but that is what is happening. I am currently taking a week's study leave at Duke Divinity School, from whence I graduated exactly thirty years ago. As one might expect, much has changed since then. The part of the divinity school that was known as "new divinity" back then is now known as the Langford Building, after the former dean, provost and theology professor. The name had to be changed because there is now a new addition to the school which is magnificent, and which rendered the former new divinity, old. So, I have had to learn my way around, get used to the fact that there is no longer a parking lot behind the school, and let it sink in that the chapel at the divinity school is a real chapel now, not a study hall in the library that was used as a chapel for many years, including the time that I was here.
So, those and many other aspects of the place have changed since I was a student here. There is just one professor left from my time, and he will retire this year. The faculty is different, the student body is a generation removed from mine and the whole place has wireless internet access! What has surprised me most is the sense that I am surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses here. Sitting in chapel during worship, I was transported to my days as a student, singing in the chapel choir and preaching my senior sermon. Suddenly, all of the people from that time can flooding into my memory. I thought of classmates whom I have not thought about in years, young, laughing, dreaming. I feel them as a palpable presence with me, and I see myself, as a young, idealistic student who had no idea what lay head of him. I have sat in on classes, only to discover that their content was not really new to me. I wanted to take charge and talk about what this stuff really means "out there" among God's people. But I sat quietly and listened, for they will make their own discoveries, just as I did. I think of my classmates who have died, and they will always be young and vibrant and still here, all around, in my mind's eye..
I did not expect this journey to have this almost supernatural glint to it; I just came down for study leave. But I am being transformed by the place, the people and the memories of all who have gone before this current crop of students. I don't belong here anymore, and yet, I will never completely separate myself from the place. There will always be a little part of this unspeakably beautiful place in my heart. It helped to form me, and I am still influenced by the people and the place. So, during this season of Lent, as spring unfurls its beauty and the mystical sense of the presence of God everywhere manifests itself, I hope you too have an unexpected and uncharted journey into the very heart of yourself, your life and your connection to God.

What Happens When We Un-circle the Wagons?

2009-03-09T11:11:00.000-07:00

Since spring break is coming and I will not have a chapel service next Sunday, I am taking the liberty of veering away from the lectionary text this week. And yes, I do feel somewhat naughty for doing that! One of the great blessings in working in religious life on a college campus is that one may have the opportunity to engage folks of other, or no, religious traditions more often than one may have the opportunity to do in the parish. Such is the case on this campus. We have a thriving collection of religious traditions here. Those with organized groups include Christian (Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox), Jewish, Muslim and soon, Hindu. We also have a small group of Buddhists who are trying to get together for regular meditation. We created an Interfaith Council three years ago, and it has become a catalyst for interfaith dialogue and cooperation. Students tend to be more willing to step outside of their own comfort zones to learn about the religious traditions and truths of others. Thanks to some discussions we had during a visit by the Interfaith Youth Core, I have a better grasp on the purpose and promise of inviting persons to the table who would consider themselves agnostic and atheist. Yes, all of this has to do with getting over the need to feel protective of one's religious tradition or territory. Our religious traditions survived for hundreds of years before we arrived on the scene, and they will live on long after we go. I have good friends who do not understand my seeming preoccupation with this interfaith work. Am I not happy as a Christian? Is not the Christian faith enough for me? Well, those are fair questions, and I guess the answer to both is a qualified "no." I am not happy when the Christan Church seems to function as a club for the "haves" and a way to inspire envy and jealousy in the "have nots." And if Christianity means that I should not be in dialogue with those of other faith traditions, yea, if it insists that my religion is the only true way, then perhaps it is not for me.
Happily, I remain a devoted Christian, because I perceive Christian faith as being much more concerned with opening doors than with closing them. And frankly, I am happier because I can admit that Christianity is not about me only, but about all of God's creation. And, I have become a better Christian, a more thoughtful person of faith because I have had regular conversations with persons of other faith traditions. I feel less necessity to work circling the wagons to preserve orthodoxy than others may think that I should. Our future in exploring multifaith traditions and conversations on this campus is beckoning, and it promises to be a great ride. I wouldn't miss it for the world!

Of Pisces and Misunderstanding - Mark 8:31-38

2009-03-02T10:52:00.000-08:00

When I was in college I used to wear a fish pin on the lapel of my denim (ugh!) suit. I wore it as a faith symbol, as in icthus, the English transliteration of the Greek initial letters for Jesus Christ, God's Son, Savior. So, imagine my disappointment when someone came up to me and commented, "Nice Pisces pin!" Never having been much of a fan of, or believer in the signs of the Zodiac, I was heartsick. I took the pin off the lapel and never wore it again. Fortunately, I also stopped wearing that denim suit not long after that. The whole incident got me to thinking about how easy it is to wear a pin which represents some aspect of one's faith, and how difficult it is to explain that faith. I was caught off-guard by the astrological reference and was probably less than graceful in my explanation of my rationale for wearing the fish pin.
We are much more comfortable sometimes with bumper stickers than we are with the real message of our faith. Lent is our reminder that some folks would consider the central tenet of our faith to be somewhat un-pretty. In Mark's gospel, Jesus states that those who follow him should be ready to surrender all, including their lives. Peter did not care for that interpretation, and made his displeasure known. Apparently, Peter did not care for the return he was getting on his emotional and spiritual investment. He had hoped that there would be something more akin to the Jesus Christ Superstar mode of messiah. We resist the thought that discipleship must necessarily be costly. But that costly discipleship has an up side. Bishop Ken Carder has stated that "by following a crucified Christ, we can face our own vulnerability." We don't like being vulnerable if we can avoid it. It is easier to have one's guard up and at the ready, because we don't want others to see the uncertainty of our faith that we see daily. If only we could take comfort in the knowledge that God not only knows of our uncertainties and secret suffering, but God is a "fellow sufferer who understands" in the words of Alfred North Whitehead. Then we would have nothing to hide. I remember feeling somewhat sheepish at having to explain the real meaning of my lapel fish. I no longer feel embarrassed at revealing myself as a person of faith. Instead, I feel a great responsibility to get the message right. Thanks be to God that God knows me well enough to encourage me, even when I stumble over the explanation.

While Protestants Catch Up - Ash Wednesday

2009-02-23T11:08:00.000-08:00

I remember so well when I introduced a Lenten discipline into the lives of some of the folks in my first parish. They handled the Ash Wednesday service, with the imposition of ashes pretty well, especially considering that it was their first. There was only one women who did not participate in that part of the service, telling me afterward that she didn't know why she did not choose to receive ashes, and that she was not opposed to the practice. Later, my wife, who is sometimes a keen observer of such phenomena, privately offered her opinion that the woman in question may have chosen not to participate because the ashes might have landed on the white fur coat that she was wearing.
Even more than the Ash Wednesday service itself was the difficulty some of the folks had with the Lenten study that I offered. We met weekly for a study and to talk about how our individual observances of the Lenten discipline were going. I was not supposed to hear as one woman leaned over to another and whispered, "I can't wait until we're allowed to feel good again!" I realized that I might have overdone it with the emphasis upon ascetic practices during Lent. I was a recent seminary graduate and I may have been a bit too ambitious in my desire to introduce a Lenten discipline to my congregation. Truth be told, I had embarked on a rather rigorous Lenten regimen and I hoped to bring others along with me. Imagine my dismay when I realized that not everyone was as excited about this project as I was.
Here we are, decades later, and many of my students are still surprised when I invite them to our ecumenical Ash Wednesday service on campus. After all, they have heard their local newscasters announce Lent as a "Catholic" observance. Not surprisingly, quite a few Catholics are surprised when they learn that Protestants also observe Lent. But then, many of our Catholic students would be surprised to learn that Ash Wednesday is not a day of holy obligation. As one Catholic colleague once told me, "Why would I burst their bubble and tell them it's not a day of obligation? For some, it's one of the few days during the year that they attend church."
Whether one chooses to observe Lent with a discipline or chooses to observe from a distance, it is a journey that is worth taking, regardless of degree. Lent reminds us of the sojourner characteristic of Christian faith; we are fellow travelers on this odyssey, and God chooses to come along as well. Giving up chocolate (which for some devout people I know is simply out of the question)or observing some other votive act during Lent is optional. Remembering our Lord's desert wanderings is not. I think it is necessary to reflect and meditate on his willingness to spend time alone as he embarked on his ministry, his life's purpose.
After working with college students for the past twenty-two years, I have discovered that many of them want some kind of discipline that makes them go a step further than they feel that they have to when it comes to their faith's journey. They want some aspect of their faith to set them apart, to serve as evidence to them that they are on traversing a deeply spiritual path. There is nothing more gratifying than to watch a young adult willingly struggle with disciplines of faith that are optional or non-existent for many people of the same age. It is because of the energy and sincerity of these young people that I am optimistic that Protestants will catch up with our Catholic brothers and sisters in seeing Lent as a necessary discipline and spiritual experience.

Heeeeeeeerrre's Hollywood! II Kings 2:1-12; Mark 9:2-9

2009-02-16T12:03:00.000-08:00

For those who ridicule the seeming hocus-pocus mentality of religious types, the Sunday of the Transfiguration offers a special challenge. But wait, there's more! Not only do we get the story of Jesus and the disciples on a mountain who experience the ultimate in Power Point presentations, but we also have the story of Elijah, Elisha and a cast of special effects guys who would make modern-day Hollywood types drool.
Comedian Bill Maher has gotten rich making fun of religion and religious types. Maher states that "either you believe in a talking snake, or you don't!" For him, there is no intellectual middle ground for people of faith. Either we are all idiots, or we are not. So, I would imagine that the pyrotechnics in the story of Elijah's translation to heaven and Jesus' transfiguration make people like Maher salivate at the good comedic gold to be mined.
Truthfully, I have a bit of trouble swallowing the Elijah story as well. A magic mantle that parts the waters, a fiery chariot and horses? Come on, it doesn't help our case to be taken seriously theologically when such events are recorded in scripture. But then, having read the story in II Kings, I have a frame of reference to assist me in contextualizing the story of the Transfiguration, a tale that Protestants don't know what to do with. Why should we care that Jesus' appearance changed and he was talking with Moses and Elijah? The Moses reference we get fairly easily since he was the original trailblazer, and was assisted by divinely initiated special effects all his own: cloud by day, pillar of fire by night, and then there was all of that manna. But what is Elijah doing on that mountain with him?
I thought about this and realized that, as much as the story of the translation of Elijah seems beyond belief, it grounds the story of the Transfiguration. For me, Elijah's appearance seems to mock me, as if to say, "so, you didn't think I really got here, did you?" Quite honestly, the Transfiguration strains my imagination as well. But, having read about Elijah's fiery chariot, I am able to detect a theme. The people of faith who composed the Bible as we know it had to find a way to communicate to us the indescribable majesty of the Almighty. Since we have to rely on the written word, we can only accept the description of events as they were passed down in a far-away culture long ago. Do I have to take it literally? No, I don't. But do I have to then write it off as fiction? No, I don't have to do that, either. If the story of our faith tells us anything, it is that we don't have all of the answers, and God's ways are not our ways. Perhaps that is the only response I can give to those who accuse me of believing in a talking snake; perhaps it is the only response necessary.

Miracle Snobs: Missing the Special Effects. II Kings 5:1-14; Mark 1:40-45

2009-02-09T11:24:00.000-08:00

The student work team and I had been laboring together for nearly a week, helping out in a rural and impoverished county which happens to be the same county in which I grew up. It was sad to see how much the area had suffered over the years, or had it? Was it just as destitute when I was growing up? It's hard to say. But working there was a troubling, yet holy experience for me. So, since we had just completed our final work day, the group had decided that they wanted to celebrate communion together that evening. So, I pulled off the highway at a small grocery store, and told them I would return as soon as I purchased "the body and blood of our Lord." They were aghast! "I thought that you ordered it from a special place, like a place that sells only to churches," exclaimed one worker. "No," I replied. "This is the kind of place that sells it. Of course, it remains ordinary until the words of institution," I offered in a feeble attempt to mollify them.
Why were they so surprised to learn that bread and grape juice come from the grocery store? Perhaps because communion is an extraordinary event, we expect that the place where we purchase the ingredients would be out-of-the-ordinary as well. Had I been able to bake the bread, at least, it probably would have seemed to be more special, more sacred. But where would I have purchased the flour? Same place, at the little grocery store along the highway.
So, is it really so difficult to understand why Naaman was insulted when Elisha told him to wash seven times in the plain and simple Jordan River? If he was to be cured of his skin condition, should not Elisha have come out of the house and waved his arms over Naaman and uttered some holy syllables? After all, he had already been dissed by the king, so Elisha was his last hope. Why was Naaman such a miracle snob? Perhaps he saw himself as a special servant of God and felt that he merited a special prophet of God to carry out the healing. We tend to be no less miracle snobs than Naaman was. We are special people, so we should have only the best, right?
Maybe Jesus sensed that snobbery in his own followers. His love mandated that he heal the leper, but he commanded the man who had been healed to keep quiet about who it was who actually performed the miracle. People would not see the act as something that could possibly eminate from a simple preacher, so they would ascribe the title of prophet to him, or worse, messiah. Miracle snobbery makes it impossible for folks to see the everyday miracles that God sends our way, and so we miss most of them. We look instead to the multimedia prophets and worship in the "smart" churches with all of the technological bells and whistles.
Even my wonderful students were taken a back at buying communion supplies at the corner store. What they did not realize was that the real miracle, the honest-to-gosh light show, was accomplished by their selfless labor all week long in a very dirty house filled with children and adults. The real Eucharist had already been celebrated, and the Body of Christ had already been offered and accepted. I feel certain that, in time, they saw it too. They were miracle snobs no more.

Life in the Human Order - Isaiah 40:21-31

2009-02-03T10:55:00.000-08:00

Paul Tillich, writing in The Shaking of the Foundations, discussed the two orders in which humanity lives: the human order and the divine order. The human order, according to Tillich, is primarily the order of living and dying. Humankind's experience of melancholy, fed by the awareness of one's fading and perishing nature, reminds one of the transitory nature of life. What a downer! It can be compared to living life in exile, away from all that is familiar. But can it be compared to the Babylonian exile in which many of the Children of Israel lived for more than a generation and to whom Isaiah spoke?
Contemporary biblical scholarship is beginning to transform our ideas about what life was like during the exile. It turns out that not all, or even most of Israel was taken to Babylon. It was mainly the landowners and educated who were forced to leave their homeland. And for those who lived in Babylon, they had relative freedom as far as how they lived their lives. They were even free to worship in their own familiar way. So, imagine how difficult it must have been when someone would suggest that they seek to return to their homeland. Jerusalem lay in ruins and was a desolate place. Who in his/her right mind would want to go back? This makes us think a bit differently about Walter Brueggemann's concept of "numbness" that kept people from responding to the prophetic message. While some may have been immune from prophetic calls for hope and restoration due to a sense of personal loss and a longing for home, others were numb to the call because they could think of no earthly reason to want to return home. After all, Babylon was not home, but it wasn't faded and ugly Judah, either.
Still, the prophet who is recorded in II Isaiah bids the people to form a vision of a restored homeland and a renewed sense of being God's people. He bids them to think of Tillich's other construct, the divine order. The divine order can cause us to be dissatisfied with what has always been and can bid us to imagine a very different world. That is what Isaiah was getting at; "there is a new way of thinking and living. And if thinking of such a place seems beyond your grasp, there is One who can help you imagine it."
When each day's news brings bad tidings of thousands more layoffs and gloom and doom, some may find it insulting to be challenged to imagine a new world order. Isaiah dealt with the same unreceptive type of audience as a prophet will find today, but the word continued to go out, until, with the cooperation of a disinterested King Cyrus, the Israelites were permitted to go back home. Surely, what they found waiting for them must have been demoralizing. But rebuilding has to start somewhere. It begins with a vision of what can be.
Life in the human order does not have to be without hope, because there is a vision of life in the divine order that we have not really attempted to get our minds around. Who would dare proclaim such a message in such difficult times as these? Who indeed!

We have met the crazies, and they are us! Mark 1:21-28

2009-01-27T06:34:00.000-08:00

Mark's account of Jesus dealing with the man who was possessed can cause flashbacks for anyone who has dealt with an individual who has seemed less than sane at one time or another. For pastors or church people, stories of the congregational "crazies", like the people to whom they refer, are legion. My first parish consisted of two churches, and both had at least one person who made my life, well, more interesting. A woman in church #1 called me often for help with the latest crisis at home. Sometimes it was a need for food, another time I accompanied her to a hearing for her son who was being sent to jail for attempted robbery. I visited him while he was in prison, only to sense that he was already planning to misbehave when he was freed, and that is what happened. Often, my wife and I returned home to find a message from her on our answering machine. She always ended her pleas by saying "Amen." In church #2, there was a woman who sometimes filled in as pianist. She had a look in her eyes that was troubling, as if one could see into the torment that she dealt with in her mind. One woman warned me to not ever be alone with her, because she had thrown a can of cling peaches at said woman's husband. Of course, the very next time I went to the church for a meeting, I arrived early and she was the only other person there! She once called my home, screaming because someone had kicked her goat and she also suspected that someone was stealing gas from her car. She felt that the world was out to get her. I remember so well the day she told me that she felt called into ministry, and that she would need the recommendation of the church to get past the district committee. In my mind I panicked, because I knew that I could never recommend her as a candidate for ministry, and I feared that such a declaration would impel a can of fruit to come speeding my way.
Yes, we have all dealt with the less than sane folks, so we can relate to Mark's account. But we often miss a salient point that is stated in the story: the demon within the poor fellow is the only being in that gathering who recognized Jesus as the Son of God. What are we to do with that bit of information? Perhaps we should pause and think about those times in our own lives, and we have all had them, when we have been one of the "crazies," even if just for a moment. Sometimes it is during such times that we most keenly feel the need for God's presence to reassure us that all will be well. Might it also be true that at such times we are most able to recognize when God's representatives are in our midst?
There was nothing noble about the demon's recognition of Jesus, because there was a tradition at that time that taught that speaking one's adversary's name first granted one power over that person. So, the recognition may have been a scheme to gain the upper hand, not to pay tribute to the Son of God. Jesus cast out the demon, which had become violent within its host's body. Jesus was not fooled by the power play, nor was Jesus insensitive to the pain of that poor man. So, what are good Christian people to do? The story seems to offer no alternative but to deal with such folks honestly and compassionately, but not to be manipulated by them.
I made a difference in the life of the family of the lady in church #1, even though her constant calls for assistance exhausted me. Her life's situation made escape from her poverty impossible, but a compassionate presence helped her to endure. I performed the wedding for one of her sons, and he and his wife were baptized and joined the church a few years later. The lady in church #2 eventually left the congregation and I never heard from her again. But I cannot clear her image from my mind to this day. That look in her eyes was almost a plea for someone to free her from the prison of her torment. I was not able to do that, but I hope that, eventually, with God's love and compassion and professional intervention, someone did.

When God's Mercy Really Ticks Us Off! Jonah 3:1-5,10

2009-01-17T16:27:00.000-08:00

I once read a commentary that stated that if we do not think that God has a sense of humor, we ought to read the book of Jonah. Sadly, the only part of the the story of Jonah that most people claim to know is the story about the fish. Note that the story describes a fish, and nowhere states "whale!" Jonah hated the behavior and attitude of the people of Ninevah, who were especially offensive to the Lord. The Lord would have destroyed the city outright, but then decided to give the people another chance. He asked Jonah to go and preach to the populace and to warn them to turn from their wickedness. Most folks don't know that the reason that Jonah ended up in a fish story is because he was running away from the directive that he had been given to preach to the citizens of Ninevah. So, with nowhere else to go, he went into the city and preached the need for repentance. And lo, and behold, the people repented. Though the rest of the story is not contained in the pericope for Epiphany 3, Jonah was so upset that the Lord forgave the people of Ninevah that he went away and sulked, and the humorous part of the story ensues. Go and read it for yourself.
I will never forget the time in my life when this passage came around in the lectionary cycle and I knew that I had to preach on it. I was serving as a college chaplain in rural Virginia, and was also filling the pulpit of a church who's pastor had been called up into the first gulf war. The first President Bush was posturing and talking tough about the need to get Sadaam Hussein (Some things never change, do they?). It occurred to me that, as hell-bent as the country was on going after Hussein, it would be very difficult for someone to stand up and call for peace. So, I stood up in the pulpit of a church that I had been serving for just a few weeks and asked if we as a people would relent of our desire for war if Hussein was to miraculously repent and turn away from his violent ways. I stated that I did not think that we would relent, and that we really wanted to get him. We were experiencing the kind of feeling that Jonah was having regarding Ninevah. He wanted them to get what was coming to them. And then I uttered the most frightening phrase I had uttered from a pulpit up until that time: I told that congregation that I was opposed to the war and that war is a symbol of humanity subverting the will of God. I also told them that it was difficult for me to say those words, with their pastor's family in the pews and him serving, though not in a war zone.
The service ended and I greeted folks at the back door. The first gentleman through the door extended his hand, but would not look at me. Others greeted me in their normally friendly way, but did not comment on the sermon. And then a man about my age, a school teacher, came through the line with tears in his eyes and hugged me and sobbed and thanked me for my words. Immediately, I felt that I had done the right thing. Looking back on it, one would think the incident was of a very minor nature. But we forget how silent the church was about that war, and how few people were speaking out against it. The next Sunday, the man who had thanked me for my words was in charge of the children's sermon. He had cut up pieces of paper and had asked the children if they could assemble them. When they put the pieces together, they formed the image of a dove, and he talked about peace. On his way out, he looked at me and told me that the children's sermon was offered because of me and what I had said the week before.
I haven't always said the right thing at the right time. As a matter of fact, I have been known to suffer from "foot in mouth" disease. But never have I been more certain that I was being directed to speak truth to power than when that lesson from Jonah jumped off the page at me. If you have not read the book of Jonah in a while, or ever, do it now. Who knows what God has in store?

While We Wait

2009-01-13T17:49:00.000-08:00

I am writing this exactly one week before the inauguration of Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States. Having driven in Washington DC this past weekend, I do not envy anyone who has to get around the city in the coming week. But more importantly, I don't envy the new president and the world of problems that he will inherit. He presents a breath of fresh air, even if his choice of Rick Warren to offer the invocation caused understandable consternation among progressives.Obama is a person of faith and I want to believe that he will rely on his faith and wonderful family to keep his sanity. Make no mistake, lots of people of faith will come after him with the long knives out, because he will not have moved in a way that they would have preferred. I was dismayed by the Warren pick, but I have moved beyond it, even if I am thinking of muting the TV during the invocation!
I have a radical idea: what if we all agree to give the new president some time to find his bearings and, in a paraphrase of words from I Corinthians 13, "believe in him and always expect the best of him?" Next week my musings on the lectionary texts will return to this space. Right now I am reading some stuff on the Gospel of Thomas and the Secret Gospel of Mark. What fun!

A Deafening Silence

2009-01-03T11:59:00.000-08:00

All of us have heard of the tragic events in Gaza over the past week. Hamas provoked Israel and Israel responded. Four hundred Palestinians have been killed as well as four Israelis. And yet, the news media, the churches, the public, has been uncomfortably silent. Yes, Hamas has been run by crazies for years and they will never accept Israel's right to exist. This is not about whether something should be done about Hamas, it's about proportionality. The biblical rule of lex taliones, an eye for an eye, was about not exacting more than was done or taken. Take no more than an eye, is what it meant. Israel, with massive funding by the US, has taken upon itself to be judge and jury. They have now moved to ground assault. We need to remember one salient fact: the Palestinians did not go along with the United Nations mandate in 1947 that effectively took half their land for a Jewish homeland. In response, Israel began an expansionist policy that continues to this day. Yes, some people in Gaza act more like animals than people. Could that be because one and one-half million people have been walled in to an area that is barely more than a few square miles and not been allowed to travel freely? Israel lumps all Palestinians together as terrorists and thinks of them as less than human. Jimmy Carter was roundly criticized when he referred to what is going on in the middle east as "apartheid." I have been there, and that is exactly what is going on. When I was there, we were told that we could not return home and tell about what we had seen, because we would be perceived as anti-Semitic. I acknowledge Israel's right to exist and to be secure, even though I think the creation of the state of Israel was done less than honorably as far as the Palestinian people are concerned. It's time for people of faith to cry "enough" to this slaughter. Most of the Palestinian people are not members of Hamas. Why do they express loyalty to that group? Because Hamas took care of medical and community needs as it was building itself up. They were wise, they knew how to win the hearts of the people. If Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza had been treated as human beings all along, we may have been able to avoid this crisis. It's time for Israel to be held accountable for their blatant disregard for the lives of the majority of the Palestinian people. The people of Palestine deserve human rights as much as anyone, don't they?

On the Way to the O.R. - Psalm 121

2008-12-17T07:11:00.000-08:00

Last week I had surgery to remove a non-compliant gall bladder. Apparently, in my gene-pool, the gall bladder has much more of a limited warranty than other body parts. Both of my sisters have also had theirs removed. So, it was my turn. The thought of going under anesthesia gave me a few moments of feeling my mortality. Everyone has heard the stories of people who have had trouble coming out of the drug-induced sleep. A former parishioner of mine worked as a surgical nurse in a local hospital, and she talked about having to attend a deposition, because they had "killed" a thirty-two-year-old man while removing his tonsils. He had been given too much anesthetic, apparently. I have noticed a relationship between the telling of such stories and the increased rate at which they are told the closer that one gets to the date of surgery.
So, as I was being wheeled to the operating room, I searched for some scripture to be of some comfort. I had been doing really well about all of this, and even imagined how my family would react if I did not survive the surgery, telling everyone, "You know, he never acted as if he was scared at all." I was, to a degree, more peaceful about the whole thing than I had thought that I might be. But, as I was being wheeled down the hall, I retrieved the words of Psalm 121, "I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence comes my help." I was surprised at my choice of passages, as I had not given any thought to what passage I would recite. Why not Psalm 139? Certainly it would have been very comforting to think that the one who had "knit together my innermost parts" was also the one from whom I could find no separation. Why not some good stuff from Matthew, about the lilies of the field, etc? I cannot say. What I do know is mountains have always held an almost supernatural fascination for me. I was raised in the foothills of the Chestnut Ridge of the Allegheny Mountains, so my frame of reference for my very existence has always been tied to mountains. The times in my life when I have been least happy with my living situation have been those where I was surrounded by coastal plain. We lived in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia for several years, and it was an other-worldly, wildly beautiful experience. When I finally visited the city of my birth in Utah, when I was in my forties, I was awestruck by the site of the Wasatch Range. Though the hospital where I was born is long gone, a park sits on the site, with a plaque commemorating the hospital that once stood there. From that vantage point, one has a breathtaking view of the mountains. It occurred to me at that moment that mountains have been the touchstone of my mortal existence; for most of my life, the mountains and I have co-existed in a most peaceable way.
I am very happy that the words of Psalm 121 came to my conscious mind that day, just as I was about to place my living self in the hands of others. For me, the mountains have always been, and will always be, a symbol of God's presence and care in my life. At that moment, lying flat on my back while viewing the blandness of the fluorescent lights overhead, I was given a vision of the mountains that have been there since I took my first breath. My life will have its perfect ending if I am allowed to see them as I take my last breath. Thanks be to God.

Why Is It So Difficult to Say "Not Me?" John 1:6-28

2008-12-08T12:31:00.000-08:00

The Gospel of John presents an interesting take on John's appearance. Whereas Matthew and Luke have John baptizing Jesus, which then opens up the whole discussion of why John is doing that instead of Jesus, John does not seem interested in that little detail. Instead, he spends much ink writing about John's testimony of Jesus being the messiah. There is no doubt as to John the Baptizer's identity in John's gospel; John's is the voice crying in the wilderness, he is not the messiah.
I am a casual observer of long-tenure pastors and their congregations. It sometimes appears that the longer a pastor serves a given congregation, the more that congregation takes on the personality traits of the pastor. Some of this in inevitable, since the pastor's teaching and leadership style will affect the congregation's identity. A problem arises when the pastor becomes high and lifted up, and the pulpit may begin to "block out the altar," to quote a divinity school professor of mine. I have known of churches where the pastor insisted on being involved in all decisions. I once filled in for a pastor to perform a wedding. The pastor had already completed most of the pre-marital counseling. However, the pastor offered to sit in on the first part of my first meeting with the couple, and I agreed that such an idea was a good one. It served to break the ice for the couple who had never met me. However, it became apparent quite soon in the interview that I was expected to tow the line and style of the resident pastor, to the letter. I was surprised at the vehemence with which the pastor emphasized this point.
Sometimes we pastors need reminding that many are called, and many prophetic voices may be heard on the journey. There is no doubt among modern scholars that John the Baptizer had his own following, and those poeple might have gladly given him their allegiance over Jesus if it ever came to that. But John would have none of it,at least in John and Matthew's accounts. "I am not the messiah" can provide a corrective for those of us who have been serving a particular place for a long time. Truth is, it's not about us; it's about the one whom we claim to follow. This Advent season, we should be standing on "the tiptoe of expectation", anxiously awaiting the one who called us.

Another Advent

2008-12-01T08:26:00.000-08:00

Before I tackle the texts for the second Sunday of Advent(being on a college campus, I had the first Sunday off..Thanksgiving break, ya know!)I wanted to think just for a moment about the season of Advent itself. I have a friend, a pastor, who once confided to me that he never knew what to preach on in Advent, because he did not find it to be a particularly exciting season. I was surprised at that comment, because Advent has always been an exciting time for me. If I could not find another reason to be excited about the season, I would choose to give thanks because the season of Pentecost is finally over! Remember when United Methodists used to call it "Kingdomtide"? Yuk! But I have a larger reason for looking forward to Advent. John Michael and Terry Talbot recorded a song entitled Advent Suite on their joint album, The Painter. The suite contains the phrase "Can you believe in the miracle coming, can you believe it will take you away?" I think these lyrics capture well the excitement of the dawning of the new church year. How do pastors who do not follow the seasons of the church year deal with the Sundays of December? Do they not have the same evil joy that their more liturgically-minded brethren share by denying the free ranging singing of Christmas carols until Christmas Eve? Do they not follow the lectionary and paint a vision of expectation and dreaming that is so tangible in Isaiah's writings? What would this time of year be like if we did not talk about the time in-between, and the tension of waiting while also looking back? So, for those who have not yet figured out where I stand on the matter, I stand on the tiptoe of expectation!

"When bad timing is transformed." Matthew 25:31-46

2008-11-21T07:44:00.000-08:00

For several weeks, people from the smaller of the two churches I was serving told me that I should go and visit Mildred. She had been ill and they thought that she was going to get bad news very soon. So, I went to the hospital to visit her. It was the first time that we had met, and the awkwardness of that first encounter was multiplied by what was said and done in my first few moments there. When I introduced myself, Mildred told me that the doctor had been in less than an hour ago and had told her that she had six months to live, because nothing more could be done for her. As I stood by her bedside she became suddenly nauseated (hopefully, not because of me!)and began to throw up. I reached for the little tray that rested on her bedside table and held it in front of her to keep what was coming up from soiling her and her bed. Then I walked into the bathroom and washed out the tray, returned it to the table and continued to talk with her, and concluded with a prayer.
I visited Mildred on a weekly basis from that time until her death five months later. We talked about many things, including the wisdom of alternative therapies, her chances at entering heaven and the years she spent running a personal care home. It was months after that first visit that she confided to me that she was embarrassed when she got sick during our first meeting. She said that she could not believe that I was so calm in the midst of that messy time, and that I rinsed out the tray and acted as if nothing had happened. It meant the world to her. I reflected on that event and realized that I reacted in just the way that my mother reacted when I was sick. She took care of whatever needed taking care of and moved on. I was never made to feel shamed that I had gotten sick, or that, at fourteen years of age, I needed to be given a sponge bath by her after I had an appendectomy.It seemed like common sense to me. Perhaps Mildred was sensitive to the issue because she had cared for so many people over the years.
The Sunday of Christ the King features a reading by Matthew that speaks of the true meaning of kingship, and it is not what is commonly thought of when thinking about royalty. Those who care for God's people in the simplest ways will find the kingdom: visiting the sick and imprisoned, feeding hungry folks and helping those who need clothing. I did all of those things in that little parish, just as countless pastors and parishioners do the same day after day. I would not have given such a simple act a second thought, had Mildred not called attention to my cleaning up in the hospital room. In these days of mega-churches and TV preachers, struggling little country churches and over-worked pastors, it is good to be reminded of the simple steps to the kingdom. I had no idea that doing the decent thing in the hospital room that day so long ago could have been a sacramental moment for one looking for some reason to hope and cling to faith. And such simple acts have never lost their mystery and majesty for me.

When We Bury Ourselves - Matthew 25:14-39

2008-11-12T10:49:00.000-08:00

The parable of the talents has always bothered me, because the servant who plays it safe and does not gamble with the money that was left in his care is targeted for retribution. I guess it bothers me because I am not a terribly adventurous person. I never had a rebellious period during my teenage years; I was the good kid who did not party. Sometimes I am embarrassed to think back on how dull a person I must have been back then. However, I am not the same person I was then, as I have taken risks in my professional life. But the "good son" in me still identifies with that servant who decided to play it safe.
A talent was a heavy piece of currency, weighing as much as seventy-five pounds, and representing about thirty-years' worth of wages for the average person in the ancient near-east. Knowing that bit of data may better help us understand why the master was so pleased with the two servants who made his money grow. In light of the current financial crisis worldwide, I have heard more than one individual muse about whether or not it might be a good idea to return our savings to the trusty mattress. It is hard to argue with taking a conservative fiscal approach during these very challenging times. If the parable was just about money, we might be able to modify its meaning in light of contemporary financial realities. But what if it's not just about money?
I came across some writings by Frederick Beuchner, that beloved writer who takes on sacred cows and willingly wrestles with them. He thinks of the first servant as one who took what might have been the "most alive part of himself" and buried it in the ground.Having done that, he was never able to become what he might have been. Beuchner then looks at the servant's punishment,being alone in the outer darkness, as the inevitable consequence of leaving one's life out of fear of living it fully.
The parable has larger teeth for us when we look at it as having less to do with money, and more with what we do with the lives we are living.I will avoid the cliche here of talking of how we should use our talents for God, because there are plenty of pastors who will talk about that in their stewardship campaigns. Instead, I think the parable is far richer if we, like Beuchner, see the talent as representing that part of ourselves that fears change or newness, or that tries desperately to not look at the pain that has been a part of our lives to this point. Instead of leaning into our pain and experiences so that we may work from that point to wherever such acknowledgments may lead, we bury it and hope never to think of it again. In so doing, we remain right there, at the grave, never having ventured beyond that hole in the ground. Yes, I was the "good son" who seldom got into trouble. But I have also been one who took the talent, heaved its weight upon my shoulder and dared to venture into the market, even if for just a short time. The parable beckons me to put on my hiking shoes and gloves and hoist that sucker one more time, and to walk in exactly the places in which I am afraid to go.

Amos Didn't Get It Quite Right. Lucky for Us! Amos 5:18-24

2008-11-07T10:29:00.000-08:00

How often we have been inspired by the words from this section of Amos, especially the phrase "Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever flowing stream." I have always loved the imagery, and the imagery of the plumbline. However, Donald Gowan, in his book Theology of the Prophets, asserts that the word has been mis-translated and that it should really be interpreted as tin. That takes a bit more creativity to conjure images relating to justice than does plumbline.
As often as I have read this section of Amos, I had never before thought about the fact that Amos got it almost right, but not totally. The destruction he imagines as something akin to the force of a flood never came. It is doubtful he was thinking about exile as he wrote. So, what came to Israel, eventually, was deliverance. With the coming of Christ, God inaugurated an age of redemption. While it is not fair to use Amos to point forward in time to that incarnation, it is fair to look backwards. Amos could not have known that the Lord would choose a way of peace to deal with errant humanity. It is obvious that Amos had a temper and seldom minced words when conveying a prophetic truth. But Amos was one of the eighth century BCE prophets, and, to my way of thinking, a man of valor. Those eighth-century prophets were not religious professionals, but religious people who took up the cause of Yahweh's desire for justice. All we know about Amos is that he was from a place called Tekoa and he had experience as a shepherd and as a tender of fig trees. A great professor of mine once referred to him as a "fig puncher." The image of Amos punching anything is a fun image.
In the end, his dismay with the empty worship of Israel did not presage directly the destruction of the temple. Amos painted a bleak picture for the wealthy and religious folks who thought of themselves as God's chosen ones. And the God he announced was more patient than Amos might have given him credit for being. The Christian message is one that reminds us, time and again, that we don't get what we deserve. We were not destroyed again in a raging flood, but in a torrent of love and unmerited grace. However, the image of justice as an everflowing stream remains a powerful motivator for those who seek to work for God's justice in a sometime hard-hearted world.

True Reformation - Matthew 23:1-12

2008-10-31T13:09:00.000-07:00

Many of us Protestants do not give much attention to Reformation Sunday anymore. To some, it seems to focus more on our differences as Christians, rather than our similarities. But I think that on this Sunday before the presidential election, we should think about the very deep meaning of reformation.
The text in Matthew's gospel deals with perceptions of power. "Who will get the best seats?" seems to be the tone of the mindset which Jesus challenges. He makes it clear that true reformation has nothing to do with status, religiosity or power. We can speak eloquently about power and faith, but faith that does not translate into action is worthless, in Jesus' view. If we are concerned about who gets the best seats, it may indicate our own lack of awareness about power that is not ours.
Jesus had a marvelous way of bringing things down to the everyday level. If one was to ask, as did the disciples at one point, as to who would have the best place at the table, Jesus used his answer to show the individual that the question just asked was the wrong one. To avoid traps like this, we should not lose a true sense of self and place. I like the paraphrase of the beatitude that states, "happy are those who know their place before God." Even an awareness of the need for humility and wonder can go awry. Sometimes, we who are in positions of leadership or power, will try to appear humble, even though we like our positions and our power. We can still lose sight of the world and our place in it. We are religious people, and well-educated, and we must be modest about that, right? There is a wonderful quote, spoken by Golda Meier to one of her cabinet ministers, "Don't be so humble; you're not that great."
Presidential candidates seek to identify with "everyman/woman" by trying to show how out of touch the other candidate really is. This current campaign has been hateful and full of half-truths, because that is what works in American politics. How badly must one want power, to campaign for almost two years for an office? I have little doubt that, on the day after this election, someone will come forth to announce that he/she will make a run for the office in 2012!
We must seek true reformation as a country, because, no matter how much we try to convince ourselves of the truth of the belief, we are not God's chosen nation. However, I do believe that God does hold us to a higher standard, because we have the resources to reform society and to influence the rest of the world for good. So, as we live through this election, may we look for signs of reformation that rise above the bidding war for the best seats in the house. God really does care about our motives and actions, and those cannot be summed up in a thirty second soundbite.

Competing Loyalties - Matthew 22:15 - 22

2008-10-13T12:38:00.000-07:00

I recall a time, early in my ministry, when the local ministerial association decided to try to communicate with the local youth football league officials. Although most games were played on Sunday afternoon, most coaches required the players to be there mid-morning. We were treated with contempt by the league reps, and were made to feel as if we were somehow unpatriotic. And this was in an area that was still somewhat traditional about Sunday morning being a special time.
These days, hardly a Sunday goes by when some charity is not sponsoring a walk or run on Sunday morning. My family attended a church a few years back where services were canceled one Sunday each summer so that members could work the barbecue/fundraiser at the local church-related retirement home. My religious life activities almost always take a back seat to athletic events, field trips and other activities that have taken over the Sunday morning slot.
I look at the passage from Matthew where Jesus tells the religious and secular folks that their loyalty to God is a personal decision, and that they must render to God and Caesar what they think each one deserves. American Christian institutions have done so much to accommodate themselves to the schedules of their members that I do not think this passage carries much weight these days. I coordinated the CROP Walks for hunger in the county where I served my first parish. We held our walks on Sunday afternoons. I participated in an MS Walk on a Saturday in another town later in my career. It's a sign of the times when we make folks choose between community worship and community service. There has to be a way to preserve the importance and complimentarity of both.

When the Week Gets Away From Me, Exodus 32:1 - 14

2008-10-09T12:30:00.000-07:00

The trouble with taking a few days off, inevitably, is returning to work. Tasks that seemed to have distant deadlines before the break suddenly become ASAP. The calendar fills up in a manner that is proportionate to the amount of work that one had hoped to get done, thus forestalling the completion of meaningful work, including sermon preparation. However, a real time correlation can be drawn between Moses' sojourn on the mountaintop and the behavior of those in waiting at the bottom of the mountain, and my return to campus after taking a few days off. While I was away, seeking refreshment on the mountain, co-workers and students, often inadvertently, were busy constructing several golden calves of their own and leaving them in the most unexpected places. Since my return, I have been stumbling upon them at every turn. I shall come back to this space next week, with a fuller treatment of the week's texts. For now, I am putting on my barn boots and preparing to walk through the pasture, where the calves have been grazing and are, I'm afraid, exceedingly well-fed.

What Makes You Think You're So Special? Matthew 21:23-32

2008-09-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a town where one could know fairly easily if one was "above his station" in life. Those who planned to attend college were told early on, by parents or neighbors, that attending college would not make us smarter in any ways that really mattered. Often, if someone purchased a new car more often than every five or six years, others would caustically remark, "Well, aren't you special?"
In Matthew's account of Jesus' experience with the religious leaders of the day, it appears that he was also getting the third degree about why he was hot news. The placement of this text in Matthew follows on the heels of the so-called "temple tantrum" when Jesus had overturned the tables of the merchants and money changers. The religious folks thought that they were being sly by asking Jesus from whence he got his authority, but he threw it right back at them by asking from whence John's authority had come. Jesus promptly gave the elders and chief priests enough rope with which to hang themselves, and they knew it. So, they answered him not.
By understanding the significance of the question of authority that was first asked of Jesus, and then which Jesus expanded by asking about John's authority, we can have a better understanding of what he was getting at with the parable of the two sons. Is it better to behave like the first son, and readily agree to do the chore requested, only to renege on the promise, than to refuse the request outright, only to relent later and carry out the requested task? If the first son could be compared to religious professionals of the day, and the second son to the tax collectors and prostitutes,and that is what was going on here, then the question of authority seems to have less to do with training and more to do with intent of the heart. If that is true, then it becomes evident as to what makes you so special, when you do the will of God. Prostitutes and tax collectors may not get it right the first time, but, perhaps, they eventually have a change of heart. Religious certitude often prevents otherwise righteous folks from doing the right thing. The authority for doing the will of God comes..from God. Diplomas, heritage or station in life have little to do with it.

It's Not Fair! Matthew 20:1 - 16

2008-09-16T12:15:00.001-07:00

There is a building on the campus where I work that has inscriptions running around all sides and forming a band on the frieze. It is the inscription above the front entrance that seems to garner the most attention. It states, in King James English:"Is it not lawful to do what I will with mine own?" It cites the passage from which that verse is taken, Matthew 20:15. The department contained within that building is Government and Law, so one might try to surmise the connection of the inscription with the goings on within. Campus lore has it that the donor was criticized for building such an extravagant building during the height of the depression. So, the scripture passage was not a word of wisdom to the students who would pass through the portals of the building, but a defense of one man's desire to be generous to his Alma Mater.
This week, the lectionary gives us a choice of the story where God forgives Nineveh, which really ticks off Jonah. After all, the people of Nineveh were among the worst of the worst, and God's forgiving that bunch must mean that God is liable to forgive anyone who turns to God. The parable of the vineyard owner in Matthew irritates many students mightily. They rail against the unfairness of the story, and the way in which the workers who arrived at daybreak were hoodwinked into working a full day for...oops, a full day's wages. OK, so they are angry that the workers who arrived at 5:00 PM were given a full day's wages. The vineyard owner's decision to do what he would with that which was his drives people crazy. It does not fit our economic or justice system.
I recall a chapel service while I was in divinity school. The preacher was a fellow student who was working on a quarter of clinical pastoral education; she worked many hours per week as a chaplain on the wards of the huge medical center that is at the heart of my Alma Mater's campus. She told us that there were days when she could not help but say to God, "This is not fair!" when she came upon a young person with a terminal illness, or an older person who was in constant pain. She told us that it occurred to her one day that it is we who draw a box in the dirt and proclaim that anything that falls inside the perimeter of the box counts as fair, and all that falls outside of the box is unfair. She then realized that she was the one defining what is both fair and unfair, not God. Perhaps therein lies the answer.

Whose Are We? Romans 14:1-12

2008-09-09T13:18:00.000-07:00

I don't often preach on the epistles all that much, because I work with college students and find that they have very little knowledge of Jesus' most basic teachings. So, I spend more time on the gospels. I also spend time on the Hebrew Bible, because they don't always make the connection between the first and second covenant. But this week I will preach on Romans 14, because I want to remind others, as well as myself, that God is our caretaker, even when we try to define those with whom we disagree as being outside the realm of that care and love. Or, when things are going badly, we may come to think that God is not as connected to us as we had thought. Case in point: We have experienced the deaths of three student members of our college community since May, with the most recent death occurring last week. With three memorial services looming, I need reminding that God's care has not gone away. In order to encourage the campus community to feel as if they are in the care of a loving God, I have to reassure myself that is still the case. Of course, in my heart of hearts, I know that to be true. But the pressure of the activities of each day during this difficult time can sap the strength of even the most devout person of faith. I have always found enormous strength in the passage where Paul reminds us that, "if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's." There are several interpretations that open up an expansive understanding as to what Paul was talking about in this passage. Those can be accessed elsewhere. In this time, in this place, I find his certainly that nothing takes us out of the realm of God's "ownership" to be refreshment for a weary soul. Sometimes, we need the simple reminders as to the efficacy of our faith to carry us through the truly difficult times.

Tough Love

2008-09-02T11:19:00.000-07:00

Matthew 18:15-20 deals with the ways in which we use authority and dispense forgiveness. One cannot grasp fully the import of vss. 15-20 without first reading the part of chapter 18 that precedes it. Jesus makes use of hyperbole to emphasize the importance of forbearance and love in retrieving those whom had been lost to God. So, I came up with several questions that I think arise within the confines of vss. 18-20 that give me reason to contemplate the deeper issues that spring from these passages.
1.How difficult is it for us to believe that one with whom we strongly disagree belongs to God every bit as much as we do? This is an unsettling question for such a politically divisive time in which we find ourselves here in the US.
2. Is it possible to use these passages as a way to keep other believers from questioning authority? Was that Jesus' intent in these sayings?
3. Does the behavior of individual believers become the business of the church when the behavior serves to divide members of the community? Some religious communities use this as a basis for the practice of shunning.

Chapter 18 begins with the disciples asking Jesus who among them is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. The question itself seems to illustrate why Jesus may have been developing gray hairs, even as a young man. He begins his answer be referring to children, who were not really given much attention in their day. From that point, it gets more and more difficult for the disciples to deny that they have really "stepped in it" by asking such a self-centered question. Jesus seems to have really wanted them to think about cleaning their own houses and of reducing the petty conflicts that may have divided them. One would think that the church would get this message without confusion, but the evidence seems to be to the contrary. Those good Christian people who nurse grudges or try to keep others down by making them feel spiritually inferior need to examine these passages very closely. The good news for everyone is that, just as God will go to any length to retrieve a lost one, we people of faith are encouraged to set ourselves free to forgive and forebear one another to an extent not imagined before. There is a freedom in this that outweighs the captivity engendered in holding grudges of in refusing to welcome those whom God has already welcomed.

The Burning Bush

2008-09-02T10:25:00.001-07:00

Some thoughts on the burning bush.

The older I get, the more I am fascinated by the whole idea of Moses' encounter with the Divine at the burning bush. All of the elements for a great drama are there: simple shepherd with a spotty past, theophany in a desolate area, and a God who has a total sense of self and who needs not explain that self beyond offering a variation of the infinitive of "to be" as identification.
I may be one of many, or a few, who hates the film "The Ten Commandments." Charlton Heston's hammy performance aside, the film makes God out as unapproachable and vindictive. OK, the text seems to uphold that view at times. But the film fails to capture the simplicity of the event of Moses' first encounter with God. Was it a bush that was actually burning, or was it a relative of the "fire thorn" that grows in my back yard? Who cares? The bush is a prop, the encounter is the real thing. Moses, simple shepherd and un-convicted murderer, experienced the presence of the Almighty. What would each of us give for such an encounter? Yet, the simplicity of the encounter, on a hill above grazing lands, should serve to remind us that such encounters may be closer than we ever dared hope. We must keep eyes wide open, for to miss such simple and fleeting glimpses of the God of Abraham would be a cause for grieving beyond measure!