One of the comic strips in this morning's paper featured a scraggly character holding a sign that said, "Repent! The world ends tomorrow." The fellow is a stock character we've all seen many times, the crazy who has figured out the end is coming and wants everyone to be ready.
But if this is a fringe, stock figure, tamer versions of him are quite popular. On the one hand are those who presume they can do reasonably accurate predicting by deciphering a code for the book of Revelation. And on the other hand are the larger number of folks who laugh at such attempts but do a different sort of predicting themselves, insisting that nothing will happen in any foreseeable future. Things will go on pretty much as they are well beyond all of our lifetimes. And both sorts of predicting are used to support behaviors, or the lack of them.
"Keep awake therefore,
for you know neither the day nor the hour," says Jesus in today's parable. Jesus says this sort of thing a number of times, but his followers seem not to have heard him. Some insist they will not be surprised by the kingdom's arrival because they will have seen it coming, but others insist they will not be surprised because it won't come.
I have really been intrigued in recent years by the Emergent Church movement and its attempt to reclaim an emphasis on the Kingdom, on the promise of God's coming rule. This is certainly central to what Jesus teaches. He calls people to reorient their lives in preparation for a very different world whose arrival will take us by surprise. But somehow Christianity's focus shifted over the centuries to an off-world heaven rather than the transformed world Jesus proclaimed.
My own faith is probably more about personal solace, about hope and guidance for the day than it is about being transformed so that I conform to an as-yet-unseen, new world. "It's gonna happen. It's gonna happen," says Jesus. Sure it is, but right now I need a nap.
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, July 16, 2012
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Sermon - Dancing Naked
2 Samuel 6:1-19
Dancing Naked
July 15, 2012
James Sledge
One
of the things I still miss from my time in Raleigh, NC in the late 1990s is the
campus radio station at N.C. State, WKNC.
It was student run station that played songs rarely on commercial
radio. One Sunday while driving home
from church I turned on the station expecting the reggae program normally on at
that time. Instead I heard bouncy pop
tune with a chorus that went, “He’s dancing naked!” over and over. It was quite a toe-tapper, and I soon found
myself singing along, “He’s dancing naked!”
Programing
at WKNC was always dependent on whether the student DJ woke up and got there in
time. The reggae DJ must have overslept because the “Rez Rock Show,” short for
Resurrection Rock was still on in the reggae hour. It was a Christian rock and roll program, and
the Christian band singing “He’s dancing naked!” was singing about King David.
Actually
David wasn’t completely naked. Our
scripture says that he had on an ephod, a little apron or loin cloth. Dancing around with nothing but a loin cloth
is hardly what one would expect from a king.
It’s embarrassing. David’s wife
certainly thinks so. She looks down on
David in disgust. And if you read a
little further than we did this morning, she tells David what a fine spectacle
he made of himself and calls him “vulgar.”
Michal was the daughter of King Saul, so she had some knowledge of how
royalty should behave – certainly not like David.
You
have to admit, it’s pretty strange behavior for a king, a head of state. (Think how people would react if President
Obama suddenly ripped off his clothes at a state dinner and started offering
prayers in his underwear.) Had David
taken leave of his senses?
A
little background may help. David is bringing the Ark of the Covenant, which
held the Ten Commandments, into his new capital of Jerusalem.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Getting Personal
On a handful of occasions, I have been surprised by someone who seems religiously progressive and open-minded as well as open to interfaith dialogue, who then says something like, "I feel bad for Jews who can't really have a personal relationship with God." The first time this happened, I got the impression that the person didn't actually know anyone who was Jewish, that her notion of a Jewish person was a mistaken caricature she had picked up somewhere. Still, her remark startled me.
Today's morning psalm begins:
As a Christian, I certainly believe, among other things, that Jesus is a unique window on God, an encounter with God not available otherwise. But that is a far crying from saying no one else can draw close to God in a personal sense. In fact, I'm intrigued by the question of what constitutes a personal relationship with God. What allows someone to feel an intimacy with God, to engage God in a personal sense?
It seems to me that any sort of personal relationship has a significant experiential component. We don't really have relationships with people we've never met, talked to, or done things with. We have to respond to one another, react to one another, and so on. You have to go through things together to really get to know someone, which is why the first year of marriage is often tumultuous. The couple is getting to know one another and working out a deep relationship with each other.
Does God inclined her ear to me? I can't really know unless God has responded to me. Does Jesus save me? Hard to say unless I've experienced that in some way. Simply believing a few things as part of a contract that promises me heaven in some hereafter is not personal, and it's not a relationship.
I love the LORD. My God, why have you forsaken me? Exactly the sort of things you would expect someone who gets personal with God to say.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Today's morning psalm begins:
I love the LORD, because he has heardThis hardly sounds like the words of someone for whom God is a distant concept or unapproachable deity. And if you read through the psalms, you will discover cries to God that many Christians wouldn't dare utter for fear of being irreverent, or perhaps simply out of fear. I've known many church folk who could never say, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" unless they were reading it from the Bible. But of course some ancient psalmist felt close enough to God to shake a fist and demand an answer from God long before Jesus borrowed the psalm while on the cross.
my voice and my supplications. Because he inclined his ear to me,
therefore I will call on him as long as I live. The snares of death encompassed me;
the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me;
I suffered distress and anguish. Then I called on the name of the LORD:
“O LORD, I pray, save my life!”
Gracious is the LORD, and righteous;
our God is merciful.
The LORD protects the simple;
when I was brought low, he saved me.
As a Christian, I certainly believe, among other things, that Jesus is a unique window on God, an encounter with God not available otherwise. But that is a far crying from saying no one else can draw close to God in a personal sense. In fact, I'm intrigued by the question of what constitutes a personal relationship with God. What allows someone to feel an intimacy with God, to engage God in a personal sense?
It seems to me that any sort of personal relationship has a significant experiential component. We don't really have relationships with people we've never met, talked to, or done things with. We have to respond to one another, react to one another, and so on. You have to go through things together to really get to know someone, which is why the first year of marriage is often tumultuous. The couple is getting to know one another and working out a deep relationship with each other.
Does God inclined her ear to me? I can't really know unless God has responded to me. Does Jesus save me? Hard to say unless I've experienced that in some way. Simply believing a few things as part of a contract that promises me heaven in some hereafter is not personal, and it's not a relationship.
I love the LORD. My God, why have you forsaken me? Exactly the sort of things you would expect someone who gets personal with God to say.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Favorite Hymns
O sing to the LORD a new song;
sing to the LORD, all the earth.
Falls Church Presbyterian, where I recently became pastor, has a wonderful music program. I was blown away by the choir the first time I heard them, and they have continued to astound me. I've not yet had the chance to hear the children's choir, but if they are half as good as the youth, that will be a treat as well. And the congregation itself seems to be very musical. They throw themselves into the hymns and are deeply appreciative of the music program. Many of them sit back down after the benediction at worship service end to listen to the organ postlude.
All this is a preface to saying that our denomination has a new hymnal coming out. Like all new hymnals, it will have some wonderful new additions and some head-scratchers, although from what I've seen of it, this one looks better than most. Given what I've observed about music in this congregation, I'm assuming that we will be getting new hymnals sooner rather than later. But I know that will not be the case everywhere. There are still plenty of congregations who have not bought the "new" hymnal that came out over 20 years ago.
When I arrived at my first congregation in 1995, they had bought those "new" hymnals not terribly long before I came. And there was a sizable contingent of folks who were quite vocal in their dislike of it. Not only had it messed with lyrics to make them more gender neutral ("God of our Fathers" became "God of the Ages"), but it had removed beloved favorites such as "Onward Christian Soldiers." (That it had added old favorites such as "How Great Thou Art" and new favorites such as "I Danced in the Morning" was conveniently overlooked.)
Christian faith looks forward to the new. In Christ we become new creations. We await a new heaven and new earth. The Bible concludes with the promise, "See, I am making all things new." Well that's great, but don't change any of the songs.
In truth, I think that people's attachment to songs and hymns actually speaks to a spiritual power in music that is rarely present in words alone. Music impacts us more deeply than the neck up religious experience that dominates Presbyterian worship. It may be the one part of our worship that touches us deep down in our soul. No wonder people sometimes react so viscerally over a new hymnal.
Perhaps this sort of reaction speaks to a spiritual hunger that has not always found sustenance in our worship. And perhaps fights over music and hymnals are sometimes proxy battles that are really about the fear of losing a personal, spiritual connection in worship. If so, how do we address that directly so that we can joyfully sing the old favorites and sing to the LORD a new song?
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
sing to the LORD, all the earth.
(from Psalm 96)
Falls Church Presbyterian, where I recently became pastor, has a wonderful music program. I was blown away by the choir the first time I heard them, and they have continued to astound me. I've not yet had the chance to hear the children's choir, but if they are half as good as the youth, that will be a treat as well. And the congregation itself seems to be very musical. They throw themselves into the hymns and are deeply appreciative of the music program. Many of them sit back down after the benediction at worship service end to listen to the organ postlude.
All this is a preface to saying that our denomination has a new hymnal coming out. Like all new hymnals, it will have some wonderful new additions and some head-scratchers, although from what I've seen of it, this one looks better than most. Given what I've observed about music in this congregation, I'm assuming that we will be getting new hymnals sooner rather than later. But I know that will not be the case everywhere. There are still plenty of congregations who have not bought the "new" hymnal that came out over 20 years ago.
When I arrived at my first congregation in 1995, they had bought those "new" hymnals not terribly long before I came. And there was a sizable contingent of folks who were quite vocal in their dislike of it. Not only had it messed with lyrics to make them more gender neutral ("God of our Fathers" became "God of the Ages"), but it had removed beloved favorites such as "Onward Christian Soldiers." (That it had added old favorites such as "How Great Thou Art" and new favorites such as "I Danced in the Morning" was conveniently overlooked.)
Christian faith looks forward to the new. In Christ we become new creations. We await a new heaven and new earth. The Bible concludes with the promise, "See, I am making all things new." Well that's great, but don't change any of the songs.
In truth, I think that people's attachment to songs and hymns actually speaks to a spiritual power in music that is rarely present in words alone. Music impacts us more deeply than the neck up religious experience that dominates Presbyterian worship. It may be the one part of our worship that touches us deep down in our soul. No wonder people sometimes react so viscerally over a new hymnal.
Perhaps this sort of reaction speaks to a spiritual hunger that has not always found sustenance in our worship. And perhaps fights over music and hymnals are sometimes proxy battles that are really about the fear of losing a personal, spiritual connection in worship. If so, how do we address that directly so that we can joyfully sing the old favorites and sing to the LORD a new song?
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
God Is for Us... and for Them
A lot of people in the Presbyterian Church USA are still in pain with regards to last week's General Assembly. The defeat of a proposed change in language about marriage - from a contract between "one man and one woman" to a contract between "two people - was a bitter pill for many. This is especially so for many younger members. Young Adult Advisory Delegates and Theological Student Advisory Delegates at the General Assemble supported the measure by 78 and 82% respectively, and I have to imagine that many of them feel that "the old guard" is thwarting the fresh winds of the Spirit.
Of course there are other people of deep faith who feel the Assembly made the correct decision. I don't agree with them, but that is hardly a sure fire indicator that they, unlike me, ignore God's will. However, it is clear that both side cannot be right with regard to God's will. Regardless of how faithfully we have approached this issue, how diligently we have listened for God, at least one of the "sides" in this issue has misunderstood what God is saying.
And here is where Christian faith can get very difficult. When we feel convinced that we are indeed doing as God desires, that we are responding to the Spirit's movement, it can be very tempting to view those who oppose us as opponents of God in some way. And if they are against God then no doubt God is against them. "If God is for us, who is against us?" writes the Apostle Paul. Yes, God is for us, but surely not for them.
I don't for a moment think it unimportant correctly to discern God's will, and there most certainly are consequences for getting it wrong. But the new thing God is doing in Jesus is not rooted in our getting it right. It is rooted in "while we still were sinners, Christ died for us." In Christ, God is for even those who are against God.
And more than that, God is not thwarted by our failures. God is not thwarted even by concerted resistance to God's will. God's transforming love is at work, and gospel logic does not reckon victory or defeat by the same standards we use. Failure, set-back, and defeat do not always mean what they seem.
Surely Jesus' greatest moment of testing and doubt was the cross. This was total and absolute failure. It was absolute triumph for those who resisted God's will. Or so it seemed. So it seemed.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Of course there are other people of deep faith who feel the Assembly made the correct decision. I don't agree with them, but that is hardly a sure fire indicator that they, unlike me, ignore God's will. However, it is clear that both side cannot be right with regard to God's will. Regardless of how faithfully we have approached this issue, how diligently we have listened for God, at least one of the "sides" in this issue has misunderstood what God is saying.
And here is where Christian faith can get very difficult. When we feel convinced that we are indeed doing as God desires, that we are responding to the Spirit's movement, it can be very tempting to view those who oppose us as opponents of God in some way. And if they are against God then no doubt God is against them. "If God is for us, who is against us?" writes the Apostle Paul. Yes, God is for us, but surely not for them.
I don't for a moment think it unimportant correctly to discern God's will, and there most certainly are consequences for getting it wrong. But the new thing God is doing in Jesus is not rooted in our getting it right. It is rooted in "while we still were sinners, Christ died for us." In Christ, God is for even those who are against God.
And more than that, God is not thwarted by our failures. God is not thwarted even by concerted resistance to God's will. God's transforming love is at work, and gospel logic does not reckon victory or defeat by the same standards we use. Failure, set-back, and defeat do not always mean what they seem.
Surely Jesus' greatest moment of testing and doubt was the cross. This was total and absolute failure. It was absolute triumph for those who resisted God's will. Or so it seemed. So it seemed.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Sighs Too Deep for Words
One of the difficulties of entering a congregation as a new pastor is the relational nature of congregations and pastoring. But as the new pastor, I don't really have any deep relationship with church members at first. And, to a degree I had not anticipated, I find myself grieving the loss of relationships from eleven years in a previous congregation. These two things seem to conspire to emphasize the sense of being an outsider.
An outsider doesn't see things the same way insiders do. This is not a matter of one viewpoint being the correct one. It is simply a different perspective. Things that are cozy and familiar to insiders may seem off-putting or strange to an outsider, just as the treasured things of the outsider may strike the insiders as strange or worse. Compounding this is a natural tendency to become focused on those things that seem strange or off-putting. And so an outsider pastor can seem an overly critical guest in the congregation while that congregation may seem an impenetrable other to the pastor.
I must confess that at times I find myself worried that I come across as much more critical than I mean to be in my new position. Yett the very same time, I find myself a little lost, like a college freshman who just arrived on a huge, urban university campus from a small town high school.
I assume that such feelings are not all that unusual, and that time will rectify much. (Most college freshmen eventually figure out their new surroundings.) Still, I suspect that my current situation has a lot to do with how a line from today's epistle reading grabbed me. "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words."
Sighs too deep for words. That sounds like the perfect prayer right now. Much of my present anxiety is about what I should do. What should I focus on? What should I change? What should I emphasize? What should I encourage? What should I leave alone? How should I allocate time and energy? Etc, etc, etc. So much anxiety about doing, but God easily gets lost in such busyness. Such busyness makes it difficult to "Be still, and know that I am God!"
The Spirit helps us. The Spirit comes to my weakness. Sighs too deep for words; sighs too deep for words. Come, Holy Spirit, in sighs too deep for words.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
An outsider doesn't see things the same way insiders do. This is not a matter of one viewpoint being the correct one. It is simply a different perspective. Things that are cozy and familiar to insiders may seem off-putting or strange to an outsider, just as the treasured things of the outsider may strike the insiders as strange or worse. Compounding this is a natural tendency to become focused on those things that seem strange or off-putting. And so an outsider pastor can seem an overly critical guest in the congregation while that congregation may seem an impenetrable other to the pastor.
I must confess that at times I find myself worried that I come across as much more critical than I mean to be in my new position. Yett the very same time, I find myself a little lost, like a college freshman who just arrived on a huge, urban university campus from a small town high school.
I assume that such feelings are not all that unusual, and that time will rectify much. (Most college freshmen eventually figure out their new surroundings.) Still, I suspect that my current situation has a lot to do with how a line from today's epistle reading grabbed me. "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words."
Sighs too deep for words. That sounds like the perfect prayer right now. Much of my present anxiety is about what I should do. What should I focus on? What should I change? What should I emphasize? What should I encourage? What should I leave alone? How should I allocate time and energy? Etc, etc, etc. So much anxiety about doing, but God easily gets lost in such busyness. Such busyness makes it difficult to "Be still, and know that I am God!"
The Spirit helps us. The Spirit comes to my weakness. Sighs too deep for words; sighs too deep for words. Come, Holy Spirit, in sighs too deep for words.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Sermon - Constrained by What We "Know"
Mark
6:1-13
Constrained
by What We "Know"
James
Sledge July
8, 2012
Some
years ago, the PBS show Frontline did a four hour long documentary entitled,
“From Jesus to Christ: The First Christians.”
I enjoyed it, and it was well done, although its scholarship was largely
from the “Jesus Seminar” school of thought.
But my recalling it today has nothing to do with its merits. It’s that title, “From Jesus to Christ.” The title implies that the person Jesus and
the religious figure labeled Christ are not always one in the same.
You
don’t necessarily need to be a biblical scholar to wonder about Jesus’ identity. Simply read the four gospels. (By the way, they’re not very long and were
originally meant to be read at one sitting.
Try it sometime.) If you read
Matthew and then read Luke; or if you read Mark and then read John, you will
see that the Jesus in one gospel has much in common with the Jesus in
another. But you will also see that
there are significant differences. And
this is no modern discovery. Christians down through the centuries have addressed
the topic, “The harmony of the Gospels,” grappling with the different pictures
of Jesus that emerge there.
However,
that the idea of recovering a correct, historical picture of Jesus is a modern idea and, I think, a
misguided one. The gospel writers did
not share our modern, scientific notions of truth being a matter of getting all
the facts right. They were not writing
history as we understand it. Those
gospels were not used to tell unbelievers about Jesus. They were not
evangelical tools. They were written for
communities of faith who already knew the story of Jesus. They did not so much attempt to tell people
what happened, but rather to make sense of what happened. As the author of Luke says in his
introduction, the gospel is written “so that you may know the truth concerning
the things about which you have been instructed.”
But
regardless of the New Testament writer’s original intent, the varied and
different images and concepts of Jesus that people construct from the Bible are
a problem. Consider the amazingly
different faith based stances that Christians take. Some followers of Jesus are complete
pacifists, taking very seriously Jesus’ command to love even your enemy and to
offer your left cheek when struck on the right.
But some churches have held special worship services where members are
encouraged to bring their concealed weapons, where self-defense is lauded as a
God given right, and gun regulation proclaimed the work of the devil.
It
seems there are a number of very different versions of Jesus floating
around.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Demographic Harbinger?
I just finished watching the debate and vote from my denomination's General Assembly. The hot topic today was an attempt to change the definition of marriage from between one man and one woman to between two people. Suffice to say that there was a fair amount of parliamentary maneuvering; that and debate that could often be characterized as mean-spirited and hurtful.
But in the end, the motion to change the definition of marriage failed by a close margin, 48-52%.
The church headlines will be about that vote, but there were other votes. Our General Assembly has Advisory Delegates. There are four categories: Missionary, Ecumenical, Young Adult, and Theological Students. They vote prior to the vote that really counts, and these votes "advise" the regular commissioners. The ecumenical delegates are from other denominations so they don't say much about our denomination, and the missionaries are a pretty distinct niche group. But the other two groups are the future members and pastors of our denomination, and their vote was quite different from that 48-52%.
78% of the Young Adults favored changing the definition of marriage, as did 82% of the Theological Students. Clearly there is a substantial difference of opinion between younger members and the denomination at large. I don't suppose this is all that startling. Religious institutions tend to be conservative entities, prone to preserve traditions and practices. And young people tend to be more embracing of change. But they will eventually mellow and begin to feel more comfortable in their institutional faith. Or will they?
I'm inclined to think that the "old guard" is fighting a losing battle, although I can see two different ways to lose. One way to lose is for enough of the old guard to age out, allowing the views of the younger members to become a majority. But another way to lose is for a well established trend to continue and even accelerate. More and more younger people may simply leave the church. Then the old guard remains the majority, but of a disappearing church.
Is the huge disparity in votes between the younger advisory delegates and the, for the most part, older regular commissioners a demographic harbinger of some sort? I tend to think so, but I also think it points to a deeper problem. This vote disparity mirrors our culture at large. The divisions on this issue are very much like the divisions in our nation, right down to young people being much more open to same sex marriage. But aren't we who are "in Christ" supposed to be different from "the world?"
Watching the debates this afternoon, I saw much of the same partisan nastiness that has come to mark American politics. Perhaps my disappointment in those who were hellbent on their side "winning" obscured my view of those who faithfully tried to seek God's will. But still, I fear that we do not look much like the body of Christ, nor do we offer much in the way of witness or hope to the world. And perhaps that's the most worrisome harbinger of all.
The church headlines will be about that vote, but there were other votes. Our General Assembly has Advisory Delegates. There are four categories: Missionary, Ecumenical, Young Adult, and Theological Students. They vote prior to the vote that really counts, and these votes "advise" the regular commissioners. The ecumenical delegates are from other denominations so they don't say much about our denomination, and the missionaries are a pretty distinct niche group. But the other two groups are the future members and pastors of our denomination, and their vote was quite different from that 48-52%.
78% of the Young Adults favored changing the definition of marriage, as did 82% of the Theological Students. Clearly there is a substantial difference of opinion between younger members and the denomination at large. I don't suppose this is all that startling. Religious institutions tend to be conservative entities, prone to preserve traditions and practices. And young people tend to be more embracing of change. But they will eventually mellow and begin to feel more comfortable in their institutional faith. Or will they?
I'm inclined to think that the "old guard" is fighting a losing battle, although I can see two different ways to lose. One way to lose is for enough of the old guard to age out, allowing the views of the younger members to become a majority. But another way to lose is for a well established trend to continue and even accelerate. More and more younger people may simply leave the church. Then the old guard remains the majority, but of a disappearing church.
Is the huge disparity in votes between the younger advisory delegates and the, for the most part, older regular commissioners a demographic harbinger of some sort? I tend to think so, but I also think it points to a deeper problem. This vote disparity mirrors our culture at large. The divisions on this issue are very much like the divisions in our nation, right down to young people being much more open to same sex marriage. But aren't we who are "in Christ" supposed to be different from "the world?"
Watching the debates this afternoon, I saw much of the same partisan nastiness that has come to mark American politics. Perhaps my disappointment in those who were hellbent on their side "winning" obscured my view of those who faithfully tried to seek God's will. But still, I fear that we do not look much like the body of Christ, nor do we offer much in the way of witness or hope to the world. And perhaps that's the most worrisome harbinger of all.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Blesssings, Curses, and False Gods
Cursing is a relatively trivial thing in most of our minds. Curse words aren't dangerous, just unsavory. Many people consider the command against taking the LORD's (Yahweh's) name "in vain," to be about being reverent and respectful. But the command is actually against using the power of God's name for purposes other than God intends. (The NRSV translation captures this well with its "You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the LORD your God.")
In ancient times, to invoke a divine curse was serious business. The revealing of the divine name, Yahweh, to Moses and to Israel is a big deal in the Old Testament. It implies an ability to call on God by name, granting Israel access to God and God's favor as well as God's ire against enemies. But as the commandment makes clear, this access is not something to be abused or misused.
Today's Old Testament reading continues the story of Balak and his attempt to curse the Israelites through the services of Balaam. Balak is a local king frightened by the arrival of the Israelites as they move into land God has promised them. Balaam appears to be some sort of shaman who performs divinations and other religious services for a fee. Balak seeks to hire Balaam in order to curse the Israelites, but Balaam is no mere profiteer, and he heeds a word from Yahweh not to do as Balaam asks. (The famous story of Balaam's talking donkey pokes fun at "seers" like Balaam but does not seem to fit logically into the larger story surrounding it.)
Balak grows increasingly angry with Balaam as he refuses to curse but instead blesses Israel. As he rails against Balaam for failing to curse on demand, Balaam reminds him, "Did I not tell you, 'Whatever the LORD says, that is what I must do'?"
We don't much believe in curses in the 21st century, but that does not stop us from invoking God on our behalf. But unlike Balaam, we frequently fail to inquire of God to see what God wants. Instead, we assume that God wants what we - being the good religious folk we are - want. And so we easily enlist God in our causes, be they national, political, personal, or even congregational. Church people often assume that God is for whatever we are wanting to do.
Writer Anne Lamott famously said, "You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do." To this obvious truth I would add the corollary, "and supports all the same things you do."
Balaam is not of our time and culture. He looks little like anyone we know today, but I think the Church would do well to emulate him. We need to learn ways of drawing near to God and listening for God's voice prior to proceeding with our plans, no matter how well conceived, appropriate, and likely to succeed they seem to us. We need to recover spiritual disciplines of discernment so that we take the time, as well as know how, to seek God's will. If we do so, I have no doubt that we will find people who look at us like we are crazy and demand to know why we are not doing what makes good business sense, what we've always done, what people want, etc. To which we will reply, "Did I not tell you, 'Whatever the LORD says, that is what I must do'?"
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
In ancient times, to invoke a divine curse was serious business. The revealing of the divine name, Yahweh, to Moses and to Israel is a big deal in the Old Testament. It implies an ability to call on God by name, granting Israel access to God and God's favor as well as God's ire against enemies. But as the commandment makes clear, this access is not something to be abused or misused.
Today's Old Testament reading continues the story of Balak and his attempt to curse the Israelites through the services of Balaam. Balak is a local king frightened by the arrival of the Israelites as they move into land God has promised them. Balaam appears to be some sort of shaman who performs divinations and other religious services for a fee. Balak seeks to hire Balaam in order to curse the Israelites, but Balaam is no mere profiteer, and he heeds a word from Yahweh not to do as Balaam asks. (The famous story of Balaam's talking donkey pokes fun at "seers" like Balaam but does not seem to fit logically into the larger story surrounding it.)
Balak grows increasingly angry with Balaam as he refuses to curse but instead blesses Israel. As he rails against Balaam for failing to curse on demand, Balaam reminds him, "Did I not tell you, 'Whatever the LORD says, that is what I must do'?"
We don't much believe in curses in the 21st century, but that does not stop us from invoking God on our behalf. But unlike Balaam, we frequently fail to inquire of God to see what God wants. Instead, we assume that God wants what we - being the good religious folk we are - want. And so we easily enlist God in our causes, be they national, political, personal, or even congregational. Church people often assume that God is for whatever we are wanting to do.
Writer Anne Lamott famously said, "You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do." To this obvious truth I would add the corollary, "and supports all the same things you do."
Balaam is not of our time and culture. He looks little like anyone we know today, but I think the Church would do well to emulate him. We need to learn ways of drawing near to God and listening for God's voice prior to proceeding with our plans, no matter how well conceived, appropriate, and likely to succeed they seem to us. We need to recover spiritual disciplines of discernment so that we take the time, as well as know how, to seek God's will. If we do so, I have no doubt that we will find people who look at us like we are crazy and demand to know why we are not doing what makes good business sense, what we've always done, what people want, etc. To which we will reply, "Did I not tell you, 'Whatever the LORD says, that is what I must do'?"
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Institutions, Communion, and Community
Doug Ottati, my very favorite professor from seminary, said on a number of occasions that all the salvific activity of God, the entire Jesus event, was about "true communion with God in true community with others." In other words, it is about relationship in cruciform shape. It's not just about me and God, and it's not just about getting along with others. Jesus' life, death, and resurrection means to create a transformed relationship with God within a transformed community of relationships.
This relational activity on God's part certainly has substance and content. There are standards of behavior, and there are calls to right living. But these are invitations to move toward something new and wonderful, not boundaries that declare who's in and who's out.
This boundary issue is on display in today's gospel. Jesus, as happens so regularly in the gospels, is enmeshed in conflict with religious authorities. It is a recurring theme: Jesus is rejected by the good, religious folk of his day but very much at home with sinners and outcasts. And it seems likely that Jesus' focus on relationship is at the heart of this.
Religions inevitably acquire institutional components and functions. This is not entirely bad, and it is necessary to some degree. It is nearly impossible for groups larger than just a few people to function without some sort of organization, some sort of institutional structure. But it is very difficult for institutions to nurture relationships. Relationships often seem threaten to institutions for they easily subvert institutional boundaries.
On some level, most congregations seem to sense this. The tendency for churches to speak of themselves as families points to it, although this family is often more dream or illusion than reality. I've seen a number of congregations that view having a single worship service as a measure of all being one big family or community. But having 200 people all in one service doesn't make them family, doesn't put them in relationship with one another. On more than one occasion I've been in discussions with church leaders who have just declared, "We're really a family; we all know one another" only to realize they don't recognize any of several names put before them to serve on a church committee.
I think that congregations need constantly to reflect on the degree to which the institutional overwhelms the relational. Jesus' own encounter with the good, religious folk of his day should be a constant reminder that well-intended, sincere guardians of religious institutions can have more difficulty recognizing God in their midst than sinners and outcasts. This tragic tendency begs religious institutions to repeatedly ask themselves, "Are all our actions serving the goal of true communion with God in true community with others?"
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
This relational activity on God's part certainly has substance and content. There are standards of behavior, and there are calls to right living. But these are invitations to move toward something new and wonderful, not boundaries that declare who's in and who's out.
This boundary issue is on display in today's gospel. Jesus, as happens so regularly in the gospels, is enmeshed in conflict with religious authorities. It is a recurring theme: Jesus is rejected by the good, religious folk of his day but very much at home with sinners and outcasts. And it seems likely that Jesus' focus on relationship is at the heart of this.
Religions inevitably acquire institutional components and functions. This is not entirely bad, and it is necessary to some degree. It is nearly impossible for groups larger than just a few people to function without some sort of organization, some sort of institutional structure. But it is very difficult for institutions to nurture relationships. Relationships often seem threaten to institutions for they easily subvert institutional boundaries.
On some level, most congregations seem to sense this. The tendency for churches to speak of themselves as families points to it, although this family is often more dream or illusion than reality. I've seen a number of congregations that view having a single worship service as a measure of all being one big family or community. But having 200 people all in one service doesn't make them family, doesn't put them in relationship with one another. On more than one occasion I've been in discussions with church leaders who have just declared, "We're really a family; we all know one another" only to realize they don't recognize any of several names put before them to serve on a church committee.
I think that congregations need constantly to reflect on the degree to which the institutional overwhelms the relational. Jesus' own encounter with the good, religious folk of his day should be a constant reminder that well-intended, sincere guardians of religious institutions can have more difficulty recognizing God in their midst than sinners and outcasts. This tragic tendency begs religious institutions to repeatedly ask themselves, "Are all our actions serving the goal of true communion with God in true community with others?"
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Moving, Sin, and Other Stuff
The moving van arrived at the church manse on Saturday morning. (The storm that left us without power until today complicated this only slightly.) We are moving from a home with a garage, a basement, and a large shed into a church manse with a small shed, no basement, and no garage. Let's just say there are lots and lots of boxes, along with a washer, dryer, and a good deal of furniture and lamps stashed away in the attic.
There nothing quite like a move to reveal the degree to which you are afflicted with the American idolatry of stuff. (George Carlin used to do a hilarious comedy routine about us and our stuff. You can find it on YouTube.) My wife got rid of a lot of stuff before we moved to Falls Church, but still we will soon be looking for a home of our own in the area, one with a basement and garage so we can store all that stuff that won't quite fit where we are now.
And now, after several days offline, I look at the daily readings and see Paul talking about how we are no longer slaves to sin. In Christ we are freed from sin and become "slaves to righteousness." And Jesus is all worked up about how the Temple has stuff being sold there, how it has gone from a "house of prayer" to a "den of robbers."
I'm not entirely sure exactly where these verses intersect with me and my stuff. But it does seem that in some ways I am still a slave to the ways of this world, thinking that I won't be happy without more and more stuff. And my life is often animated more by the stuff I have and the stuff I want than by a desire to do God's will. But of course some stuff is necessary for life, and knowing just where one crosses the boundary between necessary/reasonable and idolatry of stuff can be difficult to figure precisely.
I think that Christians like me, who grew up in what purported to be a Christian culture, sometimes have difficulty reflecting on how our day to day lives do or don't square with our faith. Because we were products of this "Christian culture," there is a certain presumption that typical, middle-class, American-dream values arein fact Christian. All of our stuff is "God's blessings."
I've been talking with the Stewardship Committee here about a Fall campaign that moves away from fundraising and focuses instead on growing in faith through spiritual disciplines of giving and generosity. I want us all to reflect on the ways in which we struggle to be the generous disciples we are called to be because so much of our energy, efforts, and cash are devoted to stuff.
Paul promises that we can be set free. We can become new creations, no longer bound by what marketers or ego or envy tells us we cannot live without. And surely we want to be freed and made new.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
There nothing quite like a move to reveal the degree to which you are afflicted with the American idolatry of stuff. (George Carlin used to do a hilarious comedy routine about us and our stuff. You can find it on YouTube.) My wife got rid of a lot of stuff before we moved to Falls Church, but still we will soon be looking for a home of our own in the area, one with a basement and garage so we can store all that stuff that won't quite fit where we are now.
And now, after several days offline, I look at the daily readings and see Paul talking about how we are no longer slaves to sin. In Christ we are freed from sin and become "slaves to righteousness." And Jesus is all worked up about how the Temple has stuff being sold there, how it has gone from a "house of prayer" to a "den of robbers."
I'm not entirely sure exactly where these verses intersect with me and my stuff. But it does seem that in some ways I am still a slave to the ways of this world, thinking that I won't be happy without more and more stuff. And my life is often animated more by the stuff I have and the stuff I want than by a desire to do God's will. But of course some stuff is necessary for life, and knowing just where one crosses the boundary between necessary/reasonable and idolatry of stuff can be difficult to figure precisely.
I think that Christians like me, who grew up in what purported to be a Christian culture, sometimes have difficulty reflecting on how our day to day lives do or don't square with our faith. Because we were products of this "Christian culture," there is a certain presumption that typical, middle-class, American-dream values arein fact Christian. All of our stuff is "God's blessings."
I've been talking with the Stewardship Committee here about a Fall campaign that moves away from fundraising and focuses instead on growing in faith through spiritual disciplines of giving and generosity. I want us all to reflect on the ways in which we struggle to be the generous disciples we are called to be because so much of our energy, efforts, and cash are devoted to stuff.
Paul promises that we can be set free. We can become new creations, no longer bound by what marketers or ego or envy tells us we cannot live without. And surely we want to be freed and made new.
Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)