We live in anxious times. People are worried about the economy. They are worried about terrorism. They are worried about partisan gridlock focused always on the next election and rarely on doing what is good for the country. And I have observed something over the years. We are rarely at our best when we are worried and anxious. We become reactive and lose some of our capacity for thoughtful decision making.
One of the interesting places this can be seen is in small, dying church congregations. The closer a congregation gets to death, the higher the anxiety tends to be. And while this worry may provide an incentive to do something, observation and research have shown that the closer a congregation draws to death (similar things can be said of many other institutions), the more difficult it becomes for it to do the things that might help it revive. When a congregation gets anxious and worried about survival, its actions tend to exacerbate rather than cure its crisis.
Jesus seems to think that worry comes from a lack of faith. It is the product of chasing after things that cannot really give meaning and life, or it is an inability to trust that God will provide. Our culture has worked very hard for decades to create the first kind of anxiety. Much of the advertising aimed at Americans is designed to create anxiety, an anxiety that will be alleviated if only we purchase this product or that. But as soon as we buy into this, we're hooked. There is always one more product, or a newer and better version of the one we just bought. And of course our very economy itself is now dependent on this anxiety cycle. It requires ever increasing levels of consumer spending to sustain itself.
I wonder what Jesus would say to us if he came today? The people he spoke to, telling them not to worry about what they would eat or drink or wear, lived in a more subsistence economy, with most people more focused on daily bread than on building wealth or deciding between a 40 inch or a 52 inch flat screen TV. And what does it mean for us when Jesus says, "But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."? Will we get our new TV if we focus more on God's work? Or do we stop worrying about TVs altogether when we are focused on building the world God envisions?
I do enough worrying of my own that I have a hard time answering such questions. So perhaps I should simplify things by instead asking what it would look like for me to strive for God's kingdom and righteousness, and letting the other stuff sort itself out.
Think how freeing that might be, to find a driving purpose in life not set by advertisers and not designed to hook us into a never ending cycle of consumption. Think how good it might be to measured on nothing more than our faithfulness to God's cause. Think how freeing from stress it could become content with God' provision. I wonder if I can do more than think about it.
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.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sermon text - Remember Who You Are
Philippians 2:1-13
Remember Who You Are
James Sledge September 25, 2011
Mohandas Gandhi, the famous Indian leader who led a non-violent campaign against British colonial rule in his country, is often quoted. I see his quotes pop up on Twitter and Facebook with some regularity. “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” “An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.” And here is another, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.
The quote from Paul and the one from Gandhi seem incompatible. If Christians have the mind of Christ then how could we be so unlike Christ. And yet there is a ring of truth to what Gandhi said. Too often, we Christian do look very little like Jesus. Too often no one would see us and think they had caught a glimpse of Jesus, even though that is precisely what it means to wear the name “Christian.”
When you meet people from another country or culture, especially when it is a place you have never been, you are likely to draw some conclusions about that country or culture based on the people you meet. The same is true when we Americans travel abroad. The way American tourists act in foreign countries gives the people there an impression of what America is like.
Gandhi was not a Christian, but he lived in a country that had been ruled by Christians for hundreds of years. What he saw clearly had not impressed him all that much. But Gandhi had bothered to learn about Jesus from the Bible, and so he realized that he liked Jesus very much. It was Jesus’ followers that bothered him. It reminds me a bit of the funny but troubling movie and book by Dan Merchant, Lord, Save Us from Your Followers.
In his letter to the Philippian Christians, Paul is pretty clear what it looks like when we have the same mind that was in Christ Jesus. We do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, we regard others as better than ourselves, we worry about other people’s needs more than we do our own.
I’m not sure we need Paul to tell us this. If we know the story of Jesus at all, we know that he cared little for earthly possessions, that he spent much of his time caring for others, that he hung out with the bottom tier of society, that he warned over and over about the dangers of wealth, that he was non-violent and called his followers to love their enemies and “turn the other cheek,” that he gave himself for others even to the point of death on a cross, and he called his followers to embrace this self-sacrificial way of the cross. We know all of this, so why don’t we look more like Jesus?
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.
I suppose one possible reason that we’re not more like Jesus is that it seems to us an impossible task. If Jesus was sinless and perfect, what chance do we have to be the same? I don’t think Paul expects the Philippians or us to become sinless or perfect, yet it is clear he thinks we can become very much like Christ. And this is not simply a matter of us trying harder. Rather it is about the new life that comes to us in Christ.
When Paul urges the Philippians saying, “If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete,” he is insisting that encouragement in Christ, consolation from love, and a sharing in the Spirit are indeed available to us. The word translated “if” in our reading is a Greek form implying that this is indeed true. Some translators even prefer to render what Paul writes, “Since there is encouragement in Christ, consolation in love, sharing in the Spirit,” and so on.
And this isn’t the only interesting translation issue in our verses. When Paul quotes an early Christian hymn about the nature of Christ who did not regard equality with God something to be exploited but instead emptied himself, he introduces it with that phrase, Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus. But this could just as well be translated, Let the same mind be in you that you have in Christ Jesus.
Given the way Paul often speaks of how we become something new in Christ, I actually think this the more likely translation. Paul is not urging the Philippians or us to try harder to be like Jesus. Instead he is calling them and us to live out who we actually are. The good news that Paul declared long ago to the Philippians is they have become new people in Jesus. They have died to sin and be reborn to new life. God is now at work in them, enabling them both to will and to do the things that honor God. Paul is not simply giving a motivational pep talk. Rather he is urging them, and us, to remember who we truly are.
I was at a pastor’s conference a few weeks ago, and in one of the presentations they played a clip from the Disney movie, The Lion King, my pick for the all-time best Disney animated film. If you've never seen it, the story revolves around Simba, the cub of the lion king, Mufasa. Simba is heir to the throne, but Mufasa's brother Scar, the villain in the story, hatches a plot where Mufasa is killed and Simba is convinced that he is to blame for his father’s death. Racked with guilt, Simba runs away into self-imposed exile, leaving the pride to the evil rule of Scar.
In the clip played at the conference, Simba’s old girlfriend comes to plead with him to return, to take his place as king and overthrow Scar before it is too late. Simba resists, but with help from Rafiki, a mandrill who is a kind of priest, prophet, and wise sage, he has a vision of his father. Voiced powerfully by James Earl Jones, Mufasa tells his son, "You have forgotten who you are, and so you have forgotten me... Remember who you are."
Emboldened by the promise that his father Mufasa dwells inside him, Simba, no doubt with fear and trembling, returns to take his rightful place. Remembering who he is and what that calls him to be and do, he restores the lion kingdom back to the peace and harmony it knew under Mufasa.
When I watched that movie clip, Mufasa’s words to his son grabbed me and would not let go. "You have forgotten who you are, and so you have forgotten me.” I could not shake the sense that this was spoken directly to me. It was as if Jesus was speaking to me. “You have forgotten who you are, and so you have forgotten me.” And if we have forgotten who we are in Christ, no wonder Gandhi says, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians.”
Of course the good news is that correcting this situation is not about us mustering up tremendous courage or remarkable fortitude and commitment. Correcting this situation is instead about remembering. Remember that in your baptism you were joined to Christ and the Holy Spirit now dwells within you. Remember that in Christ the power of sin over you has been broken, and you are able both to will and to do that which honors God and reveals Christ to the world. Remember, God is at work in you. Look inside yourself, and remember who you are!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - My Heart Is Appalled
This morning's paper is filled with good news. The struggling economy has moved scores of people below the poverty line, with African Americans particularly hard hit. That same struggling economy shows little signs of life. And late last night, the state of Georgia executed a man named Troy Davis. Executions have become run of the mill in recent years, garnering little media attention, but significant questions about the actual guilt of Troy Davis thrust this case into the media spotlight.
As I take all this in, and as I read more articles about how "fixing" our national and state budgets will lead to big cuts in programs affecting those already hit hardest by this economy, I find myself resonating with this morning's psalmist.
Therefore my spirit faints within me;
my heart within me is appalled...
Answer me quickly, O LORD;
my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me,
or I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.
Sometimes I wonder where God is in all of this. Where is the God who other Psalms insist rescues the oppressed, executes justice against the wicked, and delivers the needy? Where was God as Troy Davis was killed last night? If Davis was truly innocent, my question only burns more. Where was God? Which recalls another death penalty case nearly 2000 years ago where an unjustly convicted man cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" quoting yet another Psalm.
I take some small comfort in Jesus' promise that God's blessing and favor are on those who "hunger and thirst for righteousness," who are pained by the injustices of the world and long for something better, but it is very small comfort. I do not feel much blessing from God this morning.
Answer me quickly, O LORD;
my spirit fails.
Answer me please, O God.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
As I take all this in, and as I read more articles about how "fixing" our national and state budgets will lead to big cuts in programs affecting those already hit hardest by this economy, I find myself resonating with this morning's psalmist.
Therefore my spirit faints within me;
my heart within me is appalled...
Answer me quickly, O LORD;
my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me,
or I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.
Sometimes I wonder where God is in all of this. Where is the God who other Psalms insist rescues the oppressed, executes justice against the wicked, and delivers the needy? Where was God as Troy Davis was killed last night? If Davis was truly innocent, my question only burns more. Where was God? Which recalls another death penalty case nearly 2000 years ago where an unjustly convicted man cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" quoting yet another Psalm.
I take some small comfort in Jesus' promise that God's blessing and favor are on those who "hunger and thirst for righteousness," who are pained by the injustices of the world and long for something better, but it is very small comfort. I do not feel much blessing from God this morning.
Answer me quickly, O LORD;
my spirit fails.
Answer me please, O God.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Understanding Life
I've been out of town a couple of days because of the untimely death of a cousin of mine. He wasn't religious at all, and so there was no funeral as such. People did speak at the funeral home visitation and again at a celebration held at a bar. The owner closed down for the night and provided food and drinks for all who came; I'd guess more than 200.
My cousin was not a long time resident of this town, and this made the huge outpouring of love for him all the more pointed to me. Quite a few people spoke about meeting him when he went out of his way to help them out in some fashion. On one occasion he even fished a woman's keys out of a port-a-Jon.
As such stories were shared, I found myself thinking about Jesus' words on the judgment of the Gentiles in his final public teaching from Matthew 25:31-46. In these verses, Jesus seems to be speaking about how outsiders are judged by whether or not they fed the hungry, cared for the sick, welcomed the stranger, etc. Jesus insists that in so doing, these people from outside the faith community ministered to Christ himself.
I was still thinking about how my non religious cousin had really found a home and community in these last years, how his life seemed to be more of a calling, when I read Paul's words in this morning's epistle reading from 1 Corinthians. Paul seems to be clarifying instructions from a previous letter that have been misunderstood. "I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral persons — not at all meaning the immoral of this world, or the greedy and robbers, or idolaters, since you would then need to go out of the world." He goes on to talk about how it is only those who call themselves Christians that Paul expects the community of faith to shun for behavior not in keeping with biblical law. They are not to judge outsiders.
Yet it seems to me that we Christians are forever getting Paul's instructions backwards. We pass judgment on the world while ignoring the patently un-Christian behavior of those in our churches, including our own. Paul finds it particularly mind boggling and horrendous that Christians would sue one another in court rather than working out differences within the community of faith. When's the last time you heard of people with grievances against one another asking a pastor or church governing board to mediate a settlement and reconciliation?
I'm not sure where I'm going with all this. I'm still struggling with feelings of loss and grief at the stunning loss of my 47 year old cousin who was also a husband, father, brother, son, uncle... It also gives me pause regarding my own mortality, my own relationships, and so on. But at times over the last few days, I was struck by the notion that my cousin understood and "got" life better than I do.
I am fully convinced that being "in Christ" is about being as fully human as possible, as true to what it means to be alive as is possible. Yet I regularly see people outside the Church who seem better at being alive and human than I am. Surely that has to say something to me and to the Church.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
My cousin was not a long time resident of this town, and this made the huge outpouring of love for him all the more pointed to me. Quite a few people spoke about meeting him when he went out of his way to help them out in some fashion. On one occasion he even fished a woman's keys out of a port-a-Jon.
As such stories were shared, I found myself thinking about Jesus' words on the judgment of the Gentiles in his final public teaching from Matthew 25:31-46. In these verses, Jesus seems to be speaking about how outsiders are judged by whether or not they fed the hungry, cared for the sick, welcomed the stranger, etc. Jesus insists that in so doing, these people from outside the faith community ministered to Christ himself.
I was still thinking about how my non religious cousin had really found a home and community in these last years, how his life seemed to be more of a calling, when I read Paul's words in this morning's epistle reading from 1 Corinthians. Paul seems to be clarifying instructions from a previous letter that have been misunderstood. "I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral persons — not at all meaning the immoral of this world, or the greedy and robbers, or idolaters, since you would then need to go out of the world." He goes on to talk about how it is only those who call themselves Christians that Paul expects the community of faith to shun for behavior not in keeping with biblical law. They are not to judge outsiders.
Yet it seems to me that we Christians are forever getting Paul's instructions backwards. We pass judgment on the world while ignoring the patently un-Christian behavior of those in our churches, including our own. Paul finds it particularly mind boggling and horrendous that Christians would sue one another in court rather than working out differences within the community of faith. When's the last time you heard of people with grievances against one another asking a pastor or church governing board to mediate a settlement and reconciliation?
I'm not sure where I'm going with all this. I'm still struggling with feelings of loss and grief at the stunning loss of my 47 year old cousin who was also a husband, father, brother, son, uncle... It also gives me pause regarding my own mortality, my own relationships, and so on. But at times over the last few days, I was struck by the notion that my cousin understood and "got" life better than I do.
I am fully convinced that being "in Christ" is about being as fully human as possible, as true to what it means to be alive as is possible. Yet I regularly see people outside the Church who seem better at being alive and human than I am. Surely that has to say something to me and to the Church.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Sermon Text - It's Not Fair!
Matthew20:1-16 (Exodus 16:2-15)
It’sNot Fair
JamesSledge September18, 2011
Perhapsyou saw the news story a few weeks ago about a Youngstown man who filed alawsuit seeking a share in the lottery winnings of some of his co-workers. It seems this fellow has been part of poolwhere workers combined their money to buy lottery tickets, but he was out witha back injury the week the pool bought a ticket that was a $99 millionwinner. According to the lawsuit, themembers of the pool had an unwritten agreement that they covered for each otherwhen someone was not at work. But onemember of the pool insisted that it was a putup your money and you’re in, don’t and you’re not sort of setup.
Isaw a TV news story on this where a reporter asked people to comment on thelawsuit. Almost all those interviewedthought the fellow didn’t stand a chance in court. “Fair is fair,” onesaid. “He didn’t put anything in and sohe doesn’t deserve any of the winnings.”
Alot of us have strong feelings about things being fair and right. We know they often aren’t, but we want themto be, and so we react when we think someone is doing something patentlyunfair. I think the people in that newsstory thought the man suing his co-workers was trying to pull a fast one, tryingto get something that didn’t rightly belong to him. But I suspect if it could be proven that hisfriends had promised to cover for him while he was out of work and had thenlied about it, well then people would have a different view of things.
Whatis fair? What is the fair amount oftaxes that someone should pay? How muchmore can a CEO make compared to factory worker at the same company and it stillbe fair? What sort of punishment forcriminals is fair? Is it fair for acollege to consider that a student came from a disadvantaged home and schoolsystem in its admission standards? Is itfair when a wealthy person or a corporation is represented by teams of the bestattorneys in court while a poor person has to rely on a barely-out-of-law-school, public defender? What is fair?
Andis it fair for someone to work hard all day long at his job and then watchsomeone else who only worked one hour get paid the same as he does? That is the fairness question that seems tobe posed by the parable Jesus tells.
Isuppose the Matthew includes this parable in his gospel as a word to his Jewishcongregation made up of folks who have tried to follow the Law all their livesand have now embraced Jesus as their Jewish Messiah, but also a congregationthat is increasingly adding Johnny-come-lately Gentiles to its number. Like the parable of the prodigal son in Luke,this parable speaks to those who have tried to be faithful for the long hauland now find it difficult to celebrate with those who are latecomers.
ButI’m not sure this parable is really about fairness. Rather I think it is about an entirelydifferent sort of community, an entirely different sort of reality, somethingMatthew calls the kingdom of heaven, his very Jewish way of saying “kingdom ofGod.”
Thiskingdom has nothing to do with going to heaven. It is about an alternative to the empire of Rome and the ways of theworld. I think we sometimesmisunderstand Jesus when we assume he is talking about our getting into heavenrather than the ways of this alternative kingdom, this alternative world. And this world seems not to have books orbalance sheets.
Manyof you know that the scripture readings for each Sunday in our worship comefrom a lectionary, a list of readings for each Lord’s Day. The particular lectionary used byPresbyterians breaks from some older lectionaries in that it does not alwaystry to connect the Old Testament readings with those from the New. When we are not in a special season such asAdvent or Lent or Easter, our lectionary tries to read the Old Testament on itsown, with some continuity. And so overthe summer we’ve moved from Abraham to Jacob to Joseph and now to Moses and thestory of the Exodus from Egypt. Ourreading today about manna in the wilderness is not meant to comment on thegospel reading, but I think they have a great deal to do with one another.
Goduses Israel’s time in the wilderness to form them into a different sort ofpeople, a people who are meant to mediate God’s presence into the world. When they come into the land of promise, theyare supposed to live in a manner and construct a society that embodies what Goddesires for the world.
Oneof the lessons of wilderness is an absolute dependence on God. When God provides manna for the people, it isliterally “daily bread.” It is enoughfor today, and no more. Other than theexception of gathering a two day supply in preparation for the Sabbath, mannacannot be stockpiled. No one gets moremanna by burning the midnight oil. Noone has a freezer full of manna because she works harder than others. All have enough, but no one has more thanenough.
Thisis a very different world from the one Israel left behind in Egypt, and forthat matter the world we live in. InEgypt’s world and ours, there is not enough to go around, and so we must allstruggle to gain our share. And we mustdo more than that. We must accumulateextra so that we will be secure, so that we do not find ourselves wanting. We do not dare pray for daily bread and trustthat this will be enough. But in thewilderness, Israel must.
Theequality that comes from this mutual dependence on God is a radical one, andone that does not sit well with a human drive to take care of ourselves, toprovide for ourselves. We are proud ofbeing able to provide for ourselves and family, or perhaps embarrassed if wecannot do so. And I think some of ourconcerns about fairness arise from this.
Noticewhat those workers in the vineyard say when they raise the issue of beingtreated unfairly. “You have made them equal tous.”
Ina world of not enough, where we must struggle to secure our share, making equalsof those who do not struggle as hard as we do is a threat. But not so in the wilderness. Not so in God’s new dominion. Not so in a community shaped by love and dailybread.
Becausewe are familiar and comfortable living in our world, we are prone to think thatGod’s world is a lot like ours, only better. But Jesus says otherwise. God’skingdom is shaped by love, not competition. It is a place of abundance, not scarcity where I must secure my share,and in the process prevent others from having enough, precisely how developedcountries like ours relate to third world countries. No, the abundance of God’s kingdom features aradical neighborliness, a love that will not let another go without. It is a bit like a loving family, only withoutany of the baggage that sometimes comes with families.
Decadesago, I heard a story about a family whose second child was born with specialneeds. These special needs demanded agreat deal from the child’s parents, and her older sister began to feelneglected, even though her parents went out their way to not to do so. Children learn quickly the ways of ourworld. They realize that there is notenough to go around, and they had better struggle for their share. And so the older sister complained that itwasn’t fair that her little sister got all the love and attention.
Herparents listened to her. They madedoubly sure they were not neglecting her. They explained once more why they had to spend so much time with hersister. And then they showed hersomething about love. They lit a candleand said, “This is our love.” Thengiving her a candle they lit it saying, “We give our love to you, but our loveis still here. We give our love to yoursister,” lighting another candle, “and we still have just as much love left togive. We have more than enough love forboth of you.”
God’slove is exactly like that. And the worldGod imagines is built on love like that. Imagine an entire community, an entire world built on such afoundation… Maybe that’s why Jesus couldtalk about it only in parables.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - From Fleshy to Spiritual
There is an unfortunate tendency in our day to think of body and spirit as two totally different, separate, disconnected things. To many people, the body is a shell or container while the spirit is something altogether different that can exist within this shell or outside of it. In this understanding, to become spiritual is to get in touch with this non-corporeal side of our being.
The Apostle Paul does not share our modern, Western notions of body and spirit. For him, flesh and spirit do not speak of any body-spirit dichotomy. Paul has a holistic understanding of our human nature. When he speaks disparagingly about being "in the flesh" he is not talking about a problem inherent to having a body. Rather he is talking about a life that is driven and animated by the ways of the world. This can include bodily desires, but it also includes things like greed, jealousy, or desire for autonomy and control, things we don't necessarily associate with our bodies.
In today's epistle reading, Paul speaks of those who are spiritual receiving "the gifts of God's Spirit," having spiritual discernment, and having "the mind of Christ." In contrast, he speaks of the congregation of believers in Corinth as still being "of the flesh" because there is "jealousy and quarreling" among them.
What an interesting contrast between spiritual and fleshy. If a congregation experiences quarreling they are not spiritual but fleshy. But if instead they are discerning and know the mind of Christ, they are spiritual. Obviously they have fleshy bodies either way, but Paul says they are fundamentally different.
When I grew up in the Presbyterian Church I never heard much about spirituality or discernment. And by natural inclination, I am not a person who gravitates toward activities that many think of as spiritual: meditation, chanting, silence, candles, and so on. Yet I have found myself experiencing deep spiritual longing in recent years. As much as I love theology and studying the Scriptures, I feel a burning need to do more than know about God. I need to discern the mind of Christ. I need to know God.
In his letters, Paul speaks of the transformation that happens when one is "in Christ." We become new creations and everything old passes away. This sort of dramatic transformation does not happen by getting enough information or the right information. It does not happen simply in the mind. It goes deeper, into the totality of who we are.
My faith upbringing did not well equip me for this sort of knowing. This is not because we have bad or wrong theology, but because we somehow forgot that faith could never simply be about getting the facts right or agreeing with this and that. Faith is about moving from fleshy to spiritual in the way Paul speaks of that transition, a move that fundamentally changes who we are.
This is sometimes a struggle for me. It is so easy for me to slip back into those comfortable, well-practiced ways of "knowing about" that I have learned, ways Paul might describe as "of the flesh." God, draw me in deeper. Let me know you. Let me have the mind of Christ.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
The Apostle Paul does not share our modern, Western notions of body and spirit. For him, flesh and spirit do not speak of any body-spirit dichotomy. Paul has a holistic understanding of our human nature. When he speaks disparagingly about being "in the flesh" he is not talking about a problem inherent to having a body. Rather he is talking about a life that is driven and animated by the ways of the world. This can include bodily desires, but it also includes things like greed, jealousy, or desire for autonomy and control, things we don't necessarily associate with our bodies.
In today's epistle reading, Paul speaks of those who are spiritual receiving "the gifts of God's Spirit," having spiritual discernment, and having "the mind of Christ." In contrast, he speaks of the congregation of believers in Corinth as still being "of the flesh" because there is "jealousy and quarreling" among them.
What an interesting contrast between spiritual and fleshy. If a congregation experiences quarreling they are not spiritual but fleshy. But if instead they are discerning and know the mind of Christ, they are spiritual. Obviously they have fleshy bodies either way, but Paul says they are fundamentally different.
When I grew up in the Presbyterian Church I never heard much about spirituality or discernment. And by natural inclination, I am not a person who gravitates toward activities that many think of as spiritual: meditation, chanting, silence, candles, and so on. Yet I have found myself experiencing deep spiritual longing in recent years. As much as I love theology and studying the Scriptures, I feel a burning need to do more than know about God. I need to discern the mind of Christ. I need to know God.
In his letters, Paul speaks of the transformation that happens when one is "in Christ." We become new creations and everything old passes away. This sort of dramatic transformation does not happen by getting enough information or the right information. It does not happen simply in the mind. It goes deeper, into the totality of who we are.
My faith upbringing did not well equip me for this sort of knowing. This is not because we have bad or wrong theology, but because we somehow forgot that faith could never simply be about getting the facts right or agreeing with this and that. Faith is about moving from fleshy to spiritual in the way Paul speaks of that transition, a move that fundamentally changes who we are.
This is sometimes a struggle for me. It is so easy for me to slip back into those comfortable, well-practiced ways of "knowing about" that I have learned, ways Paul might describe as "of the flesh." God, draw me in deeper. Let me know you. Let me have the mind of Christ.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - Rend Your Hearts
O LORD, who may abide in your tent?
Who may dwell on your holy hill?
Those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right,
and speak the truth from their heart...
who do not lend money at interest,
and do not take a bribe against the innocent.
Who may dwell on your holy hill?
Those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right,
and speak the truth from their heart...
who do not lend money at interest,
and do not take a bribe against the innocent.
Psalm 15:1,2,5
I saw an post on facebook this morning about my home state of NC proposing a constitutional amendment banning same sex marriage. (This is hardly novel, In fact, NC is the only southern state that currently has no such ban.) A friend shared a blog post that spoke against the amendment, but in a curious twist, facebook highlighted a quote that was actually an anonymous comment on the blog. It said, in part, "Who are you to question the law of G*d?" sic
This sort of argument is frequently invoked in the cultural war around LGBT issues. The problem, of course, is that many who invoke God's law do so very selectively. This point was driven home to me the morning psalm, which says that those who lend money at interest may not enter the Temple. And in case you are unfamiliar with the Hebrew form poetry which is used in psalms, it rhymes ideas and not words. That is, it features parallel phrases, and in this poem lending money at interest is paired with taking bribes. These two actions are seen, in some sense, as synonymous.
The Christian Church actually enforced a ban on lending money at interest until the 1500s. John Calvin, the founder of my Reformed tradition, was one of the first to come up with a creative way around the ban. He admitted that the Bible prohibited the activity, but he also saw the need for companies to come up with money to grow their businesses. And he said that because the ban on interest was there to protect the poor, lending money in ways that created jobs and income for the poor could be done. Even though it technically violated God's law, Calvin argued that it actually upheld the intent of God's law.
We long ago forgot that lending at interest was a carefully crafted, under-certain-circumstances, exception. We now allow absurd interest rates on credit cards and payday lenders who exploit the poor. And I never hear anyone invoke God's law or tell bankers that they are going to hell.
I raise such issues because I'm struggling somewhat as I look at our very fractured, partisan cultural landscape and wonder about a way out. I have long worried about the dark, "shadow side" of American individualism. It did help foster a society of creativity and achievement, but I fear that when it is not balanced by a strong, unifying community impulse, it becomes destructive. As with many other things, our greatest strength can also become our greatest weakness. And I see much of the partisan rancor in our society coming from this weakness. To some degree, political parties have become groups of like-minded seeking their own good and not the good of the whole. They even seem able to confuse their good with the good of the whole, and so the aims of the other party are "dangerous, treasonous," or "bad for American," all terms casually bandied about in political discourse.
But my personal struggling is not so much with the sorry state of American politics. It is rather with the sorry state of the Church that has made its own contributions to all of this. Somewhere along the way we in the Church happily went along with American, individualist notions, and gradually created the idea of a private, personal faith. Faith became about my personal beliefs, my accepting of some formula of salvation, and not about the peculiar sort of community Jesus called "the kingdom of God."
I think it well past time for the Church to admit that we have lost our way, and I say this from a moderate/liberal perspective. Our problem is not the loss of some religious veneer from American culture, nor will it be fixed by hanging the 10 Commandments on buildings, discriminating against LGBT individuals, or teaching Creationism in schools. Our problem is we that have allowed faith to become believing a few things and "going to church," and we have ceased to form people so that they are equipped to live by the ways of God's alternative community, the kingdom of God.
There are not easy fixes to this problem; no new program or class or strategic plan will do it. The time has come, as the prophet Joel said, to "Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble...Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing."
Jesus calls us to be a community of disciples, but all too often, we are little more than an occasional gathering of believers. Our beliefs have little impact on the lives we live, and yet we wonder why fewer and fewer of our children see any need for the Church. And it is time for us who love the Church to own up to this.
If I seem a bit depressed about the current state of affairs, I suppose that I am, and this may even cause me to overstate the negatives. However, as a Reformed Christians, a Calvinist, I am a cosmic optimist. God is ultimately in control. Congregations and denominations may disappear, but God was never bound to these. God's purposes are being worked out in ways beyond my comprehension. The promise and hope of good news to the poor, release to the captives, rest for the weary, and blessings for all the families of the earth are still moving forward. And I pray that I shall find myself a part of that movement, and not standing in its way.
Lord, have mercy.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Spiritual Hiccups - REPENT!
The word "repent" has become something of a cartoon word, more likely to appear on the panel of a comic strip than in regular conversation. Other than reading it from the Bible and then talking about it in an accompanying sermon, I'm not sure I've ever suggested to anyone that he or she needs to repent. But of course, all of us do.
In its stereotyped, cartoon form, "repent" has come to mean something that terrible or evil people need to do. It's a word a street preacher might use when telling someone he is about to go to hell if he doesn't repent. In this sort of understanding good people or "saved" (another loaded word) people don't need to repent, but bad or evil people do. Trouble is, Jesus seems not to use the word this way at all.
For Jesus (and for John the Baptist) repentance is needed because, "the kingdom of heaven has come near" ("kingdom of heaven" being Matthew's way of rendering "kingdom of God"). The issue is less whether or not repenting makes you good enough to get in. Rather, repenting means to change so that one's way of living begins to conform to this new day, this new dominion of God that is approaching. Much of Jesus' teachings is about the ways of this kingdom. And every one of us who has not yet fully learned to love our enemy, to forgive over and over from the heart, to love others as much as ourselves, to do God's will over our own, to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of God's new day, and so on, haven't yet fully conformed to God's kingdom. And so we still need to turn, to change, to repent.
This is probably truer of pastors than anyone. Our work gives us a lot of cover. Many of our day-to-day tasks have the appearance of doing God's work, and so it can disguise our ambitions, the way we grumble about members who don't do their share, or the way we measure ourselves and our congregations by budgets and Sunday attendance rather than how faithful we are to God's call. Being a pastor is even a great place to hide from God's call. If God is calling a pastor to some other place or some other kind of ministry but that pastor is comfortable where he or she is, how is anyone other than God going to know. The pastor appears to be doing God's work when, in actuality, resisting it.
My favorite way to use being a pastor in ways contrary to the kingdom is to busy myself with work but get disconnected from God. That has the added bonus of insuring I don't hear God if God asks something of me not already a part of my routine.
God's kingdom looks little like the world we live in, and our lives are shaped by and conformed to this world. But those ways do not work in the world that is coming, the new day Jesus shows us. And so, Repent!
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
In its stereotyped, cartoon form, "repent" has come to mean something that terrible or evil people need to do. It's a word a street preacher might use when telling someone he is about to go to hell if he doesn't repent. In this sort of understanding good people or "saved" (another loaded word) people don't need to repent, but bad or evil people do. Trouble is, Jesus seems not to use the word this way at all.
For Jesus (and for John the Baptist) repentance is needed because, "the kingdom of heaven has come near" ("kingdom of heaven" being Matthew's way of rendering "kingdom of God"). The issue is less whether or not repenting makes you good enough to get in. Rather, repenting means to change so that one's way of living begins to conform to this new day, this new dominion of God that is approaching. Much of Jesus' teachings is about the ways of this kingdom. And every one of us who has not yet fully learned to love our enemy, to forgive over and over from the heart, to love others as much as ourselves, to do God's will over our own, to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of God's new day, and so on, haven't yet fully conformed to God's kingdom. And so we still need to turn, to change, to repent.
This is probably truer of pastors than anyone. Our work gives us a lot of cover. Many of our day-to-day tasks have the appearance of doing God's work, and so it can disguise our ambitions, the way we grumble about members who don't do their share, or the way we measure ourselves and our congregations by budgets and Sunday attendance rather than how faithful we are to God's call. Being a pastor is even a great place to hide from God's call. If God is calling a pastor to some other place or some other kind of ministry but that pastor is comfortable where he or she is, how is anyone other than God going to know. The pastor appears to be doing God's work when, in actuality, resisting it.
My favorite way to use being a pastor in ways contrary to the kingdom is to busy myself with work but get disconnected from God. That has the added bonus of insuring I don't hear God if God asks something of me not already a part of my routine.
God's kingdom looks little like the world we live in, and our lives are shaped by and conformed to this world. But those ways do not work in the world that is coming, the new day Jesus shows us. And so, Repent!
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Sermon video - Brokenness, Love, and Hope
This was my effort at speaking the gospel on the 10 year anniversary of the 9-11 terrorist attacks.
Sermons also available on YouTube.
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