Whom Are We Welcoming?

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

What Christians Do Best, or Worst.

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

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

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

Another Ash Wednesday

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

A God Too Familiar? Isaiah 6:1-8

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

Love is Fully Now and Fully Then - I Corinthians 13

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

Getting Back to Basics in the New Year

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