I had a chance conversation with a member of a different church the other day, and somehow the subject of a troubled relationship with a former pastor came up. From what little I know of that situation, both pastor and congregation contributed to things going poorly. Still, I was a bit struck when the person made a comment about people being upset because the pastor had befriended so many homeless people and let them come into the church.
Not knowing the particulars, I'm not going to over read her comment, but it did make me think about a common tendency in congregations to put ourselves first. Despite Jesus' instructions to be willing to lose ourselves for the sake of the gospel, we can often be very inwardly focused. During the recent economic downturn and the tight church budgets that has produced, I've heard members here say that we should cut mission giving over any reduction in staff and programs for ourselves.
In today's gospel reading, I was struck by the way that Jesus is "on the move." People are lined up for healings, but after one day, Jesus is ready to go elsewhere. Even when the disciples find him and tell him people are looking for him, Jesus is ready to move on.
Unlike the biblical example, the church I grew up in was extremely settled. This is not necessarily because of any unfaithfulness. Rather this church grew up in the era of Christendom, in a time when it was somewhat safe to presume that those around you had heard all about Jesus. In 1950s America the church's job was to nurture and care for Christians and support mission overseas. My how times have changed.
Some have written that we now live in a "post-Christian" age. True or not, we certainly live in a time when it is no longer save to assume that all our neighbors are Jesus' disciples, or even that they know just what that means. And I wonder if the church that is appropriate for this time might not need to be a lot less settled.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Sermons and thoughts on faith on Scripture from my time at Old Presbyterian Meeting House and Falls Church Presbyterian Church, plus sermons and postings from "Pastor James," my blog while pastor at Boulevard Presbyterian in Columbus, OH.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Renewal of Baptism
During Sunday's worship, following the sermon by Vice-Moderator Landon Whitsitt, we renewed our baptisms. Thought some might want to see it.
The choir sang as people came to the font with the congregation joining in a refrain which goes:
Oh, sisters (brothers), let's go down. Let's go down, come on down.
Oh, sisters (brothers), lets go down, down to the river to pray.
Oh, down to the river to pray.
The choir sang as people came to the font with the congregation joining in a refrain which goes:
Oh, sisters (brothers), let's go down. Let's go down, come on down.
Oh, sisters (brothers), lets go down, down to the river to pray.
Oh, down to the river to pray.
Spiritual Hiccups - Longing for God's Touch
I've been around sickness and death today, something that happens more often than I like, my being a pastor. Today I met with a family to plan a funeral and did hospital visitations. Sometimes when I am with people in such settings, I can see on their faces a longing that seems straight out of today's psalm.
As a deer longs for flowing streams,
so my soul longs for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and behold
the face of God?
My tears have been my food
day and night,
while people say to me continually,
"Where is your God?"
I encounter people on a regular basis who are longing for God's touch, for some experience of God; they get me instead. There are times when it makes me feel terribly small, inadequate, and helpless.
Strangely enough, most people seem satisfied with my presence. I don't mean satisfied with my performance or any great words I might offer, but simply with my being there. As the Apostle Paul has written, our weakness and frailty is apparently no obstacle to God using us.
In today's gospel reading, Jesus calls a few fishermen as his first disciples. This seems a most inauspicious start. Surely there are much better candidates to be found. But apparently these rough, uncouth fishermen will do just fine.
I wonder how often my own feelings of smallness and inadequacy get in the way of my being the presence of God to someone who needs it? How about you? If Jesus can use a few fisherman to begin the Church, surely most any of us will do.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
As a deer longs for flowing streams,
so my soul longs for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and behold
the face of God?
My tears have been my food
day and night,
while people say to me continually,
"Where is your God?"
I encounter people on a regular basis who are longing for God's touch, for some experience of God; they get me instead. There are times when it makes me feel terribly small, inadequate, and helpless.
Strangely enough, most people seem satisfied with my presence. I don't mean satisfied with my performance or any great words I might offer, but simply with my being there. As the Apostle Paul has written, our weakness and frailty is apparently no obstacle to God using us.
In today's gospel reading, Jesus calls a few fishermen as his first disciples. This seems a most inauspicious start. Surely there are much better candidates to be found. But apparently these rough, uncouth fishermen will do just fine.
I wonder how often my own feelings of smallness and inadequacy get in the way of my being the presence of God to someone who needs it? How about you? If Jesus can use a few fisherman to begin the Church, surely most any of us will do.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Landon Whitsitt's Baptism of the Lord Sermon
Sunday's sermon was preached by Landon Whitsitt, vice-moderator of our denomination. The sermon was accompanied by a renewal of baptism. The audio quality is not the best. My apologies.
Spiritual Hiccups - Does God Matter?
Sometimes when I read verses such as those from today's Isaiah passage, I shrug my shoulders and think, "So what?" So God measured the waters and marked off the boundaries of the heavens; what difference does that make to my life? What difference does it make that God is God?
These are actually very fundamental religious and theological questions. The vast majority of Americans are in agreement that there is a God, but clearly there is no unanimity about what that means. I can believe in God and it not make much difference in my life. And as many have pointed out, some atheists and agnostics are every bit as "good" as believers. People who reject religious affiliation or belief can be outstanding citizens and neighbors. So what difference does God make?
I read Richard Rohr's Daily Meditation prior to reading today's lectionary passages. I think that is why I didn't shrug at the Isaiah reading today. Instead I wondered about the "central reference point" of my life. Is it God, or is it something else. Rohr points out that we all need to organize our lives around something. "The psyche needs a central reference point, and will create one. If God is not the 'one,' then the Dow Jones Index or Rush Limbaugh will be. We will have a 'one' whether we realize it or not. The First Commandment does us a psychological and spiritual favor by stating, 'You shall have no god but me' (Exodus 20:3). If we have not been authored from above, we will give away our authority to what everybody else thinks, as Pilate did."
I wonder if I sometimes shrug at biblical passages describing the grandeur and sovereignty of God because God is often quite removed from my day to day living? Too often I don't see God at work in the world, and so what difference does it make that God marked off heaven's boundaries?
Like a lot of people, my life is busy, and there never seems enough time to get it all done. Very often, I am too busy to pray or meditate. I am too busy to be still, to be open to God, to wait for God. Big deal that God "marked off the heavens with a span, enclosed the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales and the hills in a balance." I've got a sermon to write and a meeting to attend.
Sometimes I wonder if all our busyness really leads to much that matters, if it leads to lives that really matter. And that makes me wonder what truly is the central reference point in my life.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
These are actually very fundamental religious and theological questions. The vast majority of Americans are in agreement that there is a God, but clearly there is no unanimity about what that means. I can believe in God and it not make much difference in my life. And as many have pointed out, some atheists and agnostics are every bit as "good" as believers. People who reject religious affiliation or belief can be outstanding citizens and neighbors. So what difference does God make?
I read Richard Rohr's Daily Meditation prior to reading today's lectionary passages. I think that is why I didn't shrug at the Isaiah reading today. Instead I wondered about the "central reference point" of my life. Is it God, or is it something else. Rohr points out that we all need to organize our lives around something. "The psyche needs a central reference point, and will create one. If God is not the 'one,' then the Dow Jones Index or Rush Limbaugh will be. We will have a 'one' whether we realize it or not. The First Commandment does us a psychological and spiritual favor by stating, 'You shall have no god but me' (Exodus 20:3). If we have not been authored from above, we will give away our authority to what everybody else thinks, as Pilate did."
I wonder if I sometimes shrug at biblical passages describing the grandeur and sovereignty of God because God is often quite removed from my day to day living? Too often I don't see God at work in the world, and so what difference does it make that God marked off heaven's boundaries?
Like a lot of people, my life is busy, and there never seems enough time to get it all done. Very often, I am too busy to pray or meditate. I am too busy to be still, to be open to God, to wait for God. Big deal that God "marked off the heavens with a span, enclosed the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales and the hills in a balance." I've got a sermon to write and a meeting to attend.
Sometimes I wonder if all our busyness really leads to much that matters, if it leads to lives that really matter. And that makes me wonder what truly is the central reference point in my life.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Preaching Thoughts on a Non-Preaching Sunday
Today celebrates The Baptism of the Lord as we remember Jesus being baptized by John in the Jordan River. Today our congregation had the pleasure of hearing Landon Whitsitt, vice-moderator of the Presbyterian Church (USA), preach and lead us in a renewal of our own baptisms. I found it a moving service, and it was made all the more poignent for me because I offered the Prayers of the People immediately following our baptismal renewals.
Like a lot of people, I was thinking about the shooting in Arizona yesterday as I thought about what to pray. We had just remembered how God claims us as beloved children in the waters, how God's grace washes over us, splashing and dripping all around. And yesterday had brought us face to face with the brokenness into which God's grace arrives.
I realize that it is far too early to draw any sweeping conclusions about yesterday's events. This may simply be the act of a deranged individual. But people on the left and the right are wondering today about what role the current level of vitriol in politics may have played. Politics has long been a contact sport, but lately it seems to have gotten worse, and it is all too easy for us to demonize those with whom we disagree. Political opponents cease to be friends and fellow citizens who have differing opinions about and become enemies. And the language of war and battle and violence is envoked far too often.
I find this climate of hatred all the more troubling because of the fact that many Americans have been baptized as Christians yet feel free to join in the hatred. I recall how theologian Karl Barth, in the aftermath of World War II, wondered about the fact that most all the Nazis who engaged in genocide had been baptized in the Christian Church. He wondered about our practices regarding baptism, and he counseled the Presbyterian Church either to do a much better job of teaching and helping people live into their baptisms, or stop doing infant baptisms all together. Sadly, we Presbyterians did not take either of his suggestions.
In his sermon, Landon spoke of how John did not want to baptize Jesus, saying that it needed to be the other way around. But Jesus insisted, saying it was necessary. In his baptism, Jesus began his journey to the cross. He entered into a life lived, given, and sacrificed for the world. And, preached Landon, in our baptisms, we enter into that same life, as a people called to give ourselves, sacrifice ourselves for the healing of the world.
If my baptism has joined me to Christ and his work, if it has called me and the Church to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of the world, then I cannot be a party to hatred. I cannot encourage hatred. I cannot consider those who disagree with me my enemies. Even if they truly were my enemies, I am called to give myself for them as well.
Today I went to the font, touched the water, and put it on my forehead. I remembered that I have been claimed and marked for a radically different sort of life that doesn't look out for number one, but that is willing to give itself for the hope of God's new day. Lord, help me remember that every single day.
Like a lot of people, I was thinking about the shooting in Arizona yesterday as I thought about what to pray. We had just remembered how God claims us as beloved children in the waters, how God's grace washes over us, splashing and dripping all around. And yesterday had brought us face to face with the brokenness into which God's grace arrives.
I realize that it is far too early to draw any sweeping conclusions about yesterday's events. This may simply be the act of a deranged individual. But people on the left and the right are wondering today about what role the current level of vitriol in politics may have played. Politics has long been a contact sport, but lately it seems to have gotten worse, and it is all too easy for us to demonize those with whom we disagree. Political opponents cease to be friends and fellow citizens who have differing opinions about and become enemies. And the language of war and battle and violence is envoked far too often.
I find this climate of hatred all the more troubling because of the fact that many Americans have been baptized as Christians yet feel free to join in the hatred. I recall how theologian Karl Barth, in the aftermath of World War II, wondered about the fact that most all the Nazis who engaged in genocide had been baptized in the Christian Church. He wondered about our practices regarding baptism, and he counseled the Presbyterian Church either to do a much better job of teaching and helping people live into their baptisms, or stop doing infant baptisms all together. Sadly, we Presbyterians did not take either of his suggestions.
In his sermon, Landon spoke of how John did not want to baptize Jesus, saying that it needed to be the other way around. But Jesus insisted, saying it was necessary. In his baptism, Jesus began his journey to the cross. He entered into a life lived, given, and sacrificed for the world. And, preached Landon, in our baptisms, we enter into that same life, as a people called to give ourselves, sacrifice ourselves for the healing of the world.
If my baptism has joined me to Christ and his work, if it has called me and the Church to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of the world, then I cannot be a party to hatred. I cannot encourage hatred. I cannot consider those who disagree with me my enemies. Even if they truly were my enemies, I am called to give myself for them as well.
Today I went to the font, touched the water, and put it on my forehead. I remembered that I have been claimed and marked for a radically different sort of life that doesn't look out for number one, but that is willing to give itself for the hope of God's new day. Lord, help me remember that every single day.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - No Fear
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
At the church I serve, we often use these opening verses from Psalm 46 as a responsive call to worship. They seem an appropriate way to speak of our faith that God is with us, even in our darkest moments. Even in the face of death we can trust that God's love does not fail.
I know many people whose greatest comfort when they lose a loved one is this hope in God as refuge, the promise that the love of God is stronger even than death. Despite the huge hole left when someone dies, it is a great solace to know that both we and our loved one are together held in the same love of God in Christ.
I sometimes wish we were as good at claiming the certainty and hope of God's refuge in other parts of life. All too often in the congregations, I see people who look at the difficulties facing them with a kind of pessimistic resignation. They see congregational decline and remember those days when the pews were all filled and the youth program was booming and see a dismal future. I have talked to long term members in some congregations who "know" that their end in inevitable. Their best days are behind them. Societal changes that have shaken and tossed the church's place in our culture have left them with little hope.
I've occasionally mentioned that my theological tradition highlights the problem of idolatry, of placing our hope or trust in something other than God. And the most tempting idols are things that aren't intrinsically bad, things like family, country, and even church. And if the struggles and decline of traditional churches pose a threat to our faith, to our hope for the future, perhaps the problem is that we have misread the Psalm saying, The church is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
One of the certainties of idols is that they will disappoint and fail us. Perhaps when we find ourselves feeling discouraged about religious decline in America, with children who have left the church, with denominational numbers that keep shrinking, we should recall that our faith is not in religion, or churches, or denominations. Our faith is in God and in God's love that we see embodied in Jesus.
Jesus tells us not to worry about anything, to be willing to lose our lives for the gospel's sake. And Jesus can do this himself because his trust in not in a movement or in his band of followers or even in his own abilities. He trusts God to bring hope and life even from the cross. And perhaps the church's current struggles in America offer us the opportunity to rediscover the heart of Christian faith.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
At the church I serve, we often use these opening verses from Psalm 46 as a responsive call to worship. They seem an appropriate way to speak of our faith that God is with us, even in our darkest moments. Even in the face of death we can trust that God's love does not fail.
I know many people whose greatest comfort when they lose a loved one is this hope in God as refuge, the promise that the love of God is stronger even than death. Despite the huge hole left when someone dies, it is a great solace to know that both we and our loved one are together held in the same love of God in Christ.
I sometimes wish we were as good at claiming the certainty and hope of God's refuge in other parts of life. All too often in the congregations, I see people who look at the difficulties facing them with a kind of pessimistic resignation. They see congregational decline and remember those days when the pews were all filled and the youth program was booming and see a dismal future. I have talked to long term members in some congregations who "know" that their end in inevitable. Their best days are behind them. Societal changes that have shaken and tossed the church's place in our culture have left them with little hope.
I've occasionally mentioned that my theological tradition highlights the problem of idolatry, of placing our hope or trust in something other than God. And the most tempting idols are things that aren't intrinsically bad, things like family, country, and even church. And if the struggles and decline of traditional churches pose a threat to our faith, to our hope for the future, perhaps the problem is that we have misread the Psalm saying, The church is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
One of the certainties of idols is that they will disappoint and fail us. Perhaps when we find ourselves feeling discouraged about religious decline in America, with children who have left the church, with denominational numbers that keep shrinking, we should recall that our faith is not in religion, or churches, or denominations. Our faith is in God and in God's love that we see embodied in Jesus.
Jesus tells us not to worry about anything, to be willing to lose our lives for the gospel's sake. And Jesus can do this himself because his trust in not in a movement or in his band of followers or even in his own abilities. He trusts God to bring hope and life even from the cross. And perhaps the church's current struggles in America offer us the opportunity to rediscover the heart of Christian faith.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Pagans at the Party
Growing up in the church, I knew all about the 3 Wise Men (although the Bible doesn't actually say how many magi were there). But I'm not sure I had every heard of Epiphany. Like a lot of people, we just had the Wise Men show up with the Shepherds at Christmas. They're still there with those shepherds at the manger in the Nativity set on display in our living room.
But of course the Nativity story is in Luke and the Wise Men in Matthew. While tradition and convenience has joined the two stories together, the point of Epiphany sometimes gets lost in the process. Matthew doesn't actually tell any of the events at Jesus' birth. There's a pregnant Mary and an angel visiting Joseph and then a mention that a baby was born and named Jesus.
Sometime later, perhaps as long as two years later, magi from the east come because they have seen a sign in the heavens. These magi seem to be astrologers of some sort. Perhaps they are Zoroastrians. But one thing is certain. They are Gentiles and Gentiles who follow the stars to boot. And so in Matthew's gospel the first people to visit the young Messiah, the first to worship him, are about as far from a good Jew as you can get. They are pagans, outsiders extraordinaire. And their appearance in Jerusalem as they search for a new king frightens the religious insiders, not to mention the person currently claiming the title of king.
In Matthew, Jesus' birth is welcomed by outsiders, by pagans, and it instills fear in those who are heavily invested in the religious status quo, the political status quo, or both. But all these years later, Jesus seems not at all a threat to insiders, while we insiders still often look down on outsiders.
I'm happy to keep the Wise Men a part of the creche at my house, and it doesn't bother me at all if we sing "We Three Kings" at a Christmas service. But I think we would do well to take the time to embrace the unsettling message of Epiphany, where outsiders find it easy to accept the new day Jesus heralds, and insiders fret because they are more or less happy with things as they are.
May the joy and promise of Epiphany touch you and inspire you to give your all to the King.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary as well as the Revised Common Lectionary from which today's Wise Men reading comes.
But of course the Nativity story is in Luke and the Wise Men in Matthew. While tradition and convenience has joined the two stories together, the point of Epiphany sometimes gets lost in the process. Matthew doesn't actually tell any of the events at Jesus' birth. There's a pregnant Mary and an angel visiting Joseph and then a mention that a baby was born and named Jesus.
Sometime later, perhaps as long as two years later, magi from the east come because they have seen a sign in the heavens. These magi seem to be astrologers of some sort. Perhaps they are Zoroastrians. But one thing is certain. They are Gentiles and Gentiles who follow the stars to boot. And so in Matthew's gospel the first people to visit the young Messiah, the first to worship him, are about as far from a good Jew as you can get. They are pagans, outsiders extraordinaire. And their appearance in Jerusalem as they search for a new king frightens the religious insiders, not to mention the person currently claiming the title of king.
In Matthew, Jesus' birth is welcomed by outsiders, by pagans, and it instills fear in those who are heavily invested in the religious status quo, the political status quo, or both. But all these years later, Jesus seems not at all a threat to insiders, while we insiders still often look down on outsiders.
I'm happy to keep the Wise Men a part of the creche at my house, and it doesn't bother me at all if we sing "We Three Kings" at a Christmas service. But I think we would do well to take the time to embrace the unsettling message of Epiphany, where outsiders find it easy to accept the new day Jesus heralds, and insiders fret because they are more or less happy with things as they are.
May the joy and promise of Epiphany touch you and inspire you to give your all to the King.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary as well as the Revised Common Lectionary from which today's Wise Men reading comes.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Losing Our Identity
My older daughter was home over the Christmas holidays from her Teach for America assignment in New Mexico. She is teaching elementary students in a very small town just outside of the Navajo reservation. Most all the students at her school are Navajo, and my daughter mentioned to me that although they are fiercely proud of being Navajo, most of them seem to know next to nothing about what that means. They know very little about their own history or Native American culture.
At first this struck me as odd, but then it occurred to me that something similar can be observed in other places. Most Americans are proud of their nationality, but many of them cannot name the most basic events from US history or the fundamental concepts of our government. A number of years ago a study presented sections of the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution to people on the street, and a great many of them identified these as some sort of communist propaganda.
This sort of problem is even more acute in many churches. Most Christians revere the Bible, but a large majority of them almost never read it. And so their definition of "being Christian" is often something cobbled together from a variety of sources, and this definition is often at odds with what Scripture says. Not only to people presume that popular proverbs such as "God helps those who help themselves" are to be found in the Bible (the saying is by Benjamin Franklin), but they presume behaviors endorsed by the society at large must be compatible with the Bible. And so Tucker Carlson could say just the other day that he is Christian and believes in "second chances" but that Michael Vick's killing of dogs was unforgivable and he should be executed.
That is only one, highly publicized example. Many Christians seem to think that their faith is a purely personal thing with no political or societal implications, this despite the fact that Jesus speaks regularly in political terms about a society where God's will is done, where the poor and the oppressed have good news brought to them. And many have combined their faith with American individualism as though there were no tension at all between the two, this despite Jesus' insistence that true life comes, not from claiming our own rights and privileges, but from being willing to give them up for the sake of others.
I could go on and on, but I hope my point is clear. We cannot become Christians simply by absorbing some vague sense of it from the prevailing culture. We must sit at Jesus' feet as disciples, learning from him. And there is simply no way to do this without engaging the Bible. We cannot be Christian in any real sense of the
word if we do not do as God commands Joshua in today's Old Testament reading. "Only be strong and very courageous, being careful to act in accordance with all the law that my servant Moses commanded you; do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, so that you may be successful wherever you go. This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth; you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to act in accordance with all that is written in it."
Many of us American Christians are facing an identity crisis. We have lost our biblical identity, and so we not only are prone to being misled by anyone who speaks with what seems an authoritative, religious voice, but we haven't a clear enough sense of what it means to be a Christian to share our faith with anyone else.
But the good news is that all it takes to correct this situation is for intentional faith communities to take seriously their call to follow Jesus, and to begin studying and discussing together what this might look like. And when people starting letting their encounter with Jesus change them and change the faith community they are a part of, then they start to become something that others will notice. Then they start to be the Church, the body of Christ in the world, living out the ways of Jesus for all to see.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
At first this struck me as odd, but then it occurred to me that something similar can be observed in other places. Most Americans are proud of their nationality, but many of them cannot name the most basic events from US history or the fundamental concepts of our government. A number of years ago a study presented sections of the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution to people on the street, and a great many of them identified these as some sort of communist propaganda.
This sort of problem is even more acute in many churches. Most Christians revere the Bible, but a large majority of them almost never read it. And so their definition of "being Christian" is often something cobbled together from a variety of sources, and this definition is often at odds with what Scripture says. Not only to people presume that popular proverbs such as "God helps those who help themselves" are to be found in the Bible (the saying is by Benjamin Franklin), but they presume behaviors endorsed by the society at large must be compatible with the Bible. And so Tucker Carlson could say just the other day that he is Christian and believes in "second chances" but that Michael Vick's killing of dogs was unforgivable and he should be executed.
That is only one, highly publicized example. Many Christians seem to think that their faith is a purely personal thing with no political or societal implications, this despite the fact that Jesus speaks regularly in political terms about a society where God's will is done, where the poor and the oppressed have good news brought to them. And many have combined their faith with American individualism as though there were no tension at all between the two, this despite Jesus' insistence that true life comes, not from claiming our own rights and privileges, but from being willing to give them up for the sake of others.
I could go on and on, but I hope my point is clear. We cannot become Christians simply by absorbing some vague sense of it from the prevailing culture. We must sit at Jesus' feet as disciples, learning from him. And there is simply no way to do this without engaging the Bible. We cannot be Christian in any real sense of the
word if we do not do as God commands Joshua in today's Old Testament reading. "Only be strong and very courageous, being careful to act in accordance with all the law that my servant Moses commanded you; do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, so that you may be successful wherever you go. This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth; you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to act in accordance with all that is written in it."
Many of us American Christians are facing an identity crisis. We have lost our biblical identity, and so we not only are prone to being misled by anyone who speaks with what seems an authoritative, religious voice, but we haven't a clear enough sense of what it means to be a Christian to share our faith with anyone else.
But the good news is that all it takes to correct this situation is for intentional faith communities to take seriously their call to follow Jesus, and to begin studying and discussing together what this might look like. And when people starting letting their encounter with Jesus change them and change the faith community they are a part of, then they start to become something that others will notice. Then they start to be the Church, the body of Christ in the world, living out the ways of Jesus for all to see.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Beyond Comfortable Routines
I'm back in the office today for the first time since December 26. I had wonderful visits with family down in the Carolinas, but it is good to get back home. It's nice to sleep in your own bed and to get back to regular routines. That's true in my life at church as well. Today I return to comfortable, well rehearsed routines of staff meetings, preparing sermons, getting bulletins ready, committee and governing board work, and so on. Some parts of the routine may be more enjoyable than others, but on the whole, they constitute a familiar, comfortable pattern where I know how to act and what to do. Maybe all's not right with the world, but my life is under control.
I wonder if Moses felt that way when he settled into his life as a shepherd. Those of us who learned about Moses in church know that he isn't destined to be a simple shepherd. But Moses doesn't know that. After being raised in Pharaoh's house but then having to flee Egypt to escape a murder charge, he is probably quite happy to settle down into a comfortable routine. He's gotten married. His father-in-law, who seems like a nice fellow, has welcomed him into the family and given him meaningful work to do. Surely Moses thinks he is set. His life may not be grandiose, but it is good, and it is comfortable.
At least it is until God shows up. When Moses turns aside to see a "burning bush," he is simply indulging his curiosity. He has no way of knowing that God is about to turn his life upside down as a part of a plan to rescue Israel from slavery in Egypt. Wouldn't a divine snap of the fingers be sufficient? Why does God need Moses? But in the strange ways of God, nothing seems to happen without humans joining the story.
Very often in congregations and in the work of a pastor, comfortable routines become revered treasures. "Gimme that old time religion," says the song. "Church like you remember it" read the billboard I saw from the highway. It's as though something already established is where we should be. But what if God has other ideas.
A lot of congregations in America are struggling these days. And very often the reaction to such struggles is to cling to what we know, to what is comfortable. We want to hang on to "Church like we remember it." But what if God wants to take us beyond what we remember, beyond our comfortable routines, to become a part of the divine plan for salvation? What if helping God take creation toward a new day when God's will is done "on earth" means upsetting our routines and our comfort? What if it calls us to take risks and head out in uncertain directions.
That is precisely what God will ask of Moses. It was what God asked of Abraham and Sarah before, and it is what Jesus will ask of those fishermen he calls to follow him. And it is what Jesus still asks of all who would become his disciples. Jesus asks us to trust him when he says that letting go of those things we cherish and giving ourselves over to God and neighbor will lead to something more wonderful than any life we can build for ourselves.
Life had finally settled down and become something Moses could count on and enjoy. Then God showed up. It's not too hard to understand why Moses begged God to find someone else for the job. But I guess it's a pretty good thing Moses finally said, "Yes."
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
I wonder if Moses felt that way when he settled into his life as a shepherd. Those of us who learned about Moses in church know that he isn't destined to be a simple shepherd. But Moses doesn't know that. After being raised in Pharaoh's house but then having to flee Egypt to escape a murder charge, he is probably quite happy to settle down into a comfortable routine. He's gotten married. His father-in-law, who seems like a nice fellow, has welcomed him into the family and given him meaningful work to do. Surely Moses thinks he is set. His life may not be grandiose, but it is good, and it is comfortable.
At least it is until God shows up. When Moses turns aside to see a "burning bush," he is simply indulging his curiosity. He has no way of knowing that God is about to turn his life upside down as a part of a plan to rescue Israel from slavery in Egypt. Wouldn't a divine snap of the fingers be sufficient? Why does God need Moses? But in the strange ways of God, nothing seems to happen without humans joining the story.
Very often in congregations and in the work of a pastor, comfortable routines become revered treasures. "Gimme that old time religion," says the song. "Church like you remember it" read the billboard I saw from the highway. It's as though something already established is where we should be. But what if God has other ideas.
A lot of congregations in America are struggling these days. And very often the reaction to such struggles is to cling to what we know, to what is comfortable. We want to hang on to "Church like we remember it." But what if God wants to take us beyond what we remember, beyond our comfortable routines, to become a part of the divine plan for salvation? What if helping God take creation toward a new day when God's will is done "on earth" means upsetting our routines and our comfort? What if it calls us to take risks and head out in uncertain directions.
That is precisely what God will ask of Moses. It was what God asked of Abraham and Sarah before, and it is what Jesus will ask of those fishermen he calls to follow him. And it is what Jesus still asks of all who would become his disciples. Jesus asks us to trust him when he says that letting go of those things we cherish and giving ourselves over to God and neighbor will lead to something more wonderful than any life we can build for ourselves.
Life had finally settled down and become something Moses could count on and enjoy. Then God showed up. It's not too hard to understand why Moses begged God to find someone else for the job. But I guess it's a pretty good thing Moses finally said, "Yes."
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Spiritual Hiccups - Is That New?
Today's meditation from Richard Rohr begins, "We do not think ourselves into new ways of living. We live ourselves into new ways of thinking." Newness is a recurring theme for Christians. We speak of the portion of Scripture beginning with the gospels as a "New" Testament. And in today's epistle reading Paul writes, "So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!"
At Christmas, we celebrate the new thing God does in the Incarnation, God's love taking on flesh in Jesus. But while we marvel at what God does, while we love to remember and retell the stories connected to Christmas, sometimes we seem content simply to believe in and worship God's newness without actually joining it.
I think this can be especially problematic for folks like myself who grew up in the Church. Always surrounded by the elements of the faith, it is sometimes difficult for me to think of that same faith making me over into something new. Faith can seem to be mostly about tradition and status quo, not about the radical newness that Paul says comes to us in Christ.
And my personal difficulty with being made new in Christ has ramifications for the Church's ability to share the faith with others. The newness Paul has found in Jesus is the most exciting thing he has to share with others. But if I do not experience any newness in Christ, what do I have that I can share?
It might be a useful exercise for all Christians to occasionally ask themselves, "What is different about my life because of Jesus?" And I do not think anything having to do with one's status after death is an appropriate answer to this question. Not that this status is of no concern or importance, but it does not speak to the new quality of life that both Paul and Jesus speak of constantly.
As the recent celebrations of Christmas are slipping out of view, what new thing emerges for you out of its message of hope and newness? As we celebrate the fresh slate of a New Year, how does the remarkably new thing God does in Christ continue to work its newness in our lives so that we can share its joy and hope with the world?
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
At Christmas, we celebrate the new thing God does in the Incarnation, God's love taking on flesh in Jesus. But while we marvel at what God does, while we love to remember and retell the stories connected to Christmas, sometimes we seem content simply to believe in and worship God's newness without actually joining it.
I think this can be especially problematic for folks like myself who grew up in the Church. Always surrounded by the elements of the faith, it is sometimes difficult for me to think of that same faith making me over into something new. Faith can seem to be mostly about tradition and status quo, not about the radical newness that Paul says comes to us in Christ.
And my personal difficulty with being made new in Christ has ramifications for the Church's ability to share the faith with others. The newness Paul has found in Jesus is the most exciting thing he has to share with others. But if I do not experience any newness in Christ, what do I have that I can share?
It might be a useful exercise for all Christians to occasionally ask themselves, "What is different about my life because of Jesus?" And I do not think anything having to do with one's status after death is an appropriate answer to this question. Not that this status is of no concern or importance, but it does not speak to the new quality of life that both Paul and Jesus speak of constantly.
As the recent celebrations of Christmas are slipping out of view, what new thing emerges for you out of its message of hope and newness? As we celebrate the fresh slate of a New Year, how does the remarkably new thing God does in Christ continue to work its newness in our lives so that we can share its joy and hope with the world?
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Spiritual Hiccups - The Bible Tells Me So
I saw an opinion piece in the newspaper the other day discussing the "truth" of the biblical Christmas story. The author, who argued for the historical truth of the Luke nativity story, seemed unaware of the conflict between Matthew and Luke regarding Jesus' origins. (Both writers say Jesus was born in Bethlehem, but Luke has the family come to Bethlehem because of a Roman registration while Matthew assumes they are residents of Bethlehem who end up in Nazareth only because of the threat from Herod.) But of more concern to me, the opinion piece seemed not to appreciate some basic problems inherent in "believing" the Bible.
Such problems are on display in today's reading from John. Jesus' opponents use Scripture to buttress their argument that he cannot be the Messiah. "Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee." Like many modern day arguments that end with, "See, it's right there in the Bible," the religious authorities of Jesus' day find proof positive right there in the Bible.
I've always loved the ordination vows my denomination uses for pastors, elders, and deacons. The first speaks of Jesus as Lord of all and Head of the Church, and the one through whom we know the triune God. The second speaks of the Old and New Testament as "the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ..." These vows call me to follow Jesus as I see him revealed in Scripture. And that is a bit different than simply believing the Bible or using it as a proof text.
My Reformed/Calvinist tradition has also seen idolatry as one of the more fundamental human problems. We are forever substituting things other than God for God. And sometimes Christians do this with the Bible. We can use Scripture to confine God within the limits that we find comfortable. We can use Scripture to create God in our image.
This is a temptation for all of us, regardless of denomination or religious leanings. And there is no easy solution. But fighting this tendency requires a much greater knowledge of the Bible than most of us have. It requires us to listen to the larger witness of Scripture so that we get the best possible picture of Jesus as he is witnessed to there. And it requires a real humility about our own certainties, so that are open to the surprising and amazing ways in which God comes to us. Otherwise, we could find ourselves rejecting the living Christ just like the religious leaders in our gospel today. "Oh, that can't be God. See, it says so right here in the Bible."
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Such problems are on display in today's reading from John. Jesus' opponents use Scripture to buttress their argument that he cannot be the Messiah. "Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee." Like many modern day arguments that end with, "See, it's right there in the Bible," the religious authorities of Jesus' day find proof positive right there in the Bible.
I've always loved the ordination vows my denomination uses for pastors, elders, and deacons. The first speaks of Jesus as Lord of all and Head of the Church, and the one through whom we know the triune God. The second speaks of the Old and New Testament as "the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ..." These vows call me to follow Jesus as I see him revealed in Scripture. And that is a bit different than simply believing the Bible or using it as a proof text.
My Reformed/Calvinist tradition has also seen idolatry as one of the more fundamental human problems. We are forever substituting things other than God for God. And sometimes Christians do this with the Bible. We can use Scripture to confine God within the limits that we find comfortable. We can use Scripture to create God in our image.
This is a temptation for all of us, regardless of denomination or religious leanings. And there is no easy solution. But fighting this tendency requires a much greater knowledge of the Bible than most of us have. It requires us to listen to the larger witness of Scripture so that we get the best possible picture of Jesus as he is witnessed to there. And it requires a real humility about our own certainties, so that are open to the surprising and amazing ways in which God comes to us. Otherwise, we could find ourselves rejecting the living Christ just like the religious leaders in our gospel today. "Oh, that can't be God. See, it says so right here in the Bible."
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
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