Spiritual Hiccups - Sin, Modesty, and Civility

After writing yesterday's blog post, "A Born Sinner," I read a wonderful column by NY Times columnist David Brooks entitled "Tree of Failure."  Brooks connected the loss of civility in our public discourse with a loss of modesty in our culture.  He notes "that over the past 40 years or so we have gone from a culture that reminds people of their own limitations to a culture that encourages people to think highly of themselves. The nation’s founders had a modest but realistic opinion of themselves and of the voters. They erected all sorts of institutional and social restraints to protect Americans from themselves. They admired George Washington because of the way he kept himself in check."

Notions of our own limitations and the need to keep ourselves in check flow quite naturally from a theology that is willing to claim sin as a part of our identity in the same manner an alcoholic embraces that identity.  It is an acknowledgment that opens us to new possibilities, that admits we cannot do it alone, that is open to being redirected toward something better.  But somehow we have become less and less inclined to think of ourselves as having fundamental flaws that require checks or restraints. 

I suspect that the move toward where we now find ourselves was begun with the best of intentions.  Perhaps is was a reaction against the unfortunate tendency of religion using "sin" as a label for anything that religion doesn't like.  Music, dance, alcohol, sexual orientation, political affiliation, voting for "Obamacare," and a nearly endless list of other things have all been declared sins at one time or another.  And Jesus finds himself in conflict with the religious folk of his day over his "sin" of violating the Sabbath.  No wonder that some folks want to reject the entire concept.

A reaction against religious misuse and abuse of sin is understandable.  But this rejection does not change anything about our true nature.  If we are to be most fully alive and fully human, surely we must understand who we truly are.

John Calvin once wrote that all true knowledge resides in knowledge of God and knowledge of self.  And a false view of ourselves, whether this be a view that obscures our tremendous gifts, capacities, and the image of God in all of us, or whether this be a view that ignores our limits, frailties, and self destructive tendencies, will necessarily lead us to live as people other than who we truly are. 

Balance is always a difficult thing to maintain.  This is as true in spiritual matters as it is in political ones.  Balance often demands that we hold seemingly contradictory things - such as being in the image of God and captive sin - in tension, that we live with paradox and even contradiction.  But often rather than deal with this difficulty, we choose to ride a pendulum, swinging back and forth, seeking a faith, a spirituality, an ideology, a political philosophy that is easier and simpler than the complex creatures that we truly are. 

As David Brooks points out, civility requires a modesty that rejects such false simplicity, that knows I do not have all answers.  Even my best efforts need the refining and correcting help of those who disagree with me and may notice what I have missed or distorted because of my own biases and blinders and limits and, yes, sin. 

You would think that people of faith might be of great help in restoring some sense of appropriate modesty and resulting civility. But I have seen some of the most uncivil behaviors at church.  The tone of debate I have occasionally seen in my own denomination is little better than that displayed in American politics.  I wonder if it would make any difference if, when we were about to engage in some heated debate, we quit worrying so much about other folk's sin and claimed out own.  What if we borrowed from AA and prefaced our remarks with, "Hello, my name is Joe and I'm a sinner. Now here's what I think."

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Spiritual Hiccups - A Born Sinner

Over the years I have found the topic of sin to be the source of much tension in my work as a pastor.  On the one hand, my theological tradition invented the notion of "total depravity," a badly misunderstood doctrine that nonetheless insists sin is a fundamental problem affecting every facet of our humanity.  On the other hand I have routinely heard from church members who dislike having a "prayer of confession" in worship.  "It's such a downer," is a common complaint.

Psalm 51 in today's readings seems to come down on the total depravity side.  "Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me."  If prayers of confession sound like a downer, how about this?  But I wonder if our problem with sin and confession doesn't arise from the tendency to think of sin in terms of moral failing.

Psalm 51 and total depravity aren't speaking of moral failings.  They are speaking of something more fundamental.  Think of an AA meeting when people stand up and say, "Hi, I'm Joe, and I'm an alcoholic."  Claiming this identity is not an admission of moral failing.  Rather, it is owning the identity of one with an underlying condition that works against a full and abundant life.  Such a claim is not a "downer" for an alcoholic.  It is one step in being freed from the grip of alcoholism. 

It is interesting how recovering alcoholics embrace that identity while so many Christians want to escape the label of sinner.  In fact, very often the label sinner is applied to others, to folks we consider morally inferior. 

And so I struggle as a pastor to find a good way for us to embrace our identity as sinners in the way alcoholics can embrace their identity, as a hopeful step on the path to a new and better life. 

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Spiritual Hiccups - God at Work

When the poor and needy seek water,
  and there is none,
  and their tongue is parched with thirst,
I the LORD will answer them,
  I the God of Israel will not forsake them.
I will open rivers on the bare heights,
  and fountains in the midst of the valleys;
I will make the wilderness a pool of water,
  and the dry land springs of water.
I will put in the wilderness the cedar,
  the acacia, the myrtle, and the olive;
I will set in the desert the cypress,
  the plane and the pine together,
  so that all may see and know,
  all may consider and understand,
that the hand of the LORD has done this,
  the Holy One of Israel has created it.

I just finished leading a Bible studay with one of the Presbyterian Women "circles" at our church.  This group is made up almost entirely of folks past retirement age, and so I was a bit surprised by a topic that one of them raised.  We had been looking at one of the very hopefule sections of Revelation, chapter 7 to be exact.  And after hear about the Lamb that becomes shepherd and guides the faithful to the water of life, about God wiping every tear from their eyes, this woman raised the quesion of how we are to continue hoping for this sort of thing without seeing some clear evidence of it, without being able to speak of some experience of it.

The question itself does not suprise me at all, but I was a bit surprised by it coming from an older, life-long church member.  I do think the difficulty we have with such questions is a primary reason that traditional churches struggle to connect with younger people.  Yet very often I find that older members find such question threatening.  Some of them seem to think that raising such questions is a sign of weak faith, a sign they dare not exhibit. 

And so I am actually quite thrilled she raised the issue.  It gives me hope because I think the Church's vitality for the future requires wrestling with this.  Too often Christian faith in America has been reduced to believing certain things and so getting "pie in the sky by and by."  But biblical faith speaks more as today's reading from Isaiah does, promising that God will answer the poor and needy when they cry out.  Jesus begins his ministry proclaiming that God's kingdom, God's rule on earth has come near.  And he gives evidence of this by curing the sick and healing the lame.

Theologically speaking, we Presbyterians insist that Jesus is Lord of all, not just Lord of the spiritual but Lord over everything from our individual lives to our finances to history itself.  But in practice we often proclaim Jesus as Lord of a tiny corner of our lives we label "spiritual." 

I wonder what the Church might look like if most of its members lived in ways that truly evidenced Jesus as Lord of all.  I wonder what the Church might look like if we took seriously this question of where we can see God at work in the world, responding to the poor, the needy, the oppressed, and the hopeless as Jesus and the Bible insist God does.

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Spiritual Hiccups - On the Move

I had a chance conversation with a member of a different church the other day, and somehow the subject of a troubled relationship with a former pastor came up.  From what little I know of that situation, both pastor and congregation contributed to things going poorly.  Still, I was a bit struck when the person made a comment about people being upset because the pastor had befriended so many homeless people and let them come into the church.

Not knowing the particulars, I'm not going to over read her comment, but it did make me think about a common tendency in congregations to put ourselves first.  Despite Jesus' instructions to be willing to lose ourselves for the sake of the gospel, we can often be very inwardly focused.  During the recent economic downturn and the tight church budgets that has produced, I've heard members here say that we should cut mission giving over any reduction in staff and programs for ourselves.

In today's gospel reading, I was struck by the way that Jesus is "on the move."  People are lined up for healings, but after one day, Jesus is ready to go elsewhere.  Even when the disciples find him and tell him people are looking for him, Jesus is ready to move on.

Unlike the biblical example, the church I grew up in was extremely settled.  This is not necessarily because of any unfaithfulness.  Rather this church grew up in the era of Christendom, in a time when it was somewhat safe to presume that those around you had heard all about Jesus.  In 1950s America the church's job was to nurture and care for Christians and support mission overseas.  My how times have changed.

Some have written that we now live in a "post-Christian" age.  True or not, we certainly live in a time when it is no longer save to assume that all our neighbors are Jesus' disciples, or even that they know just what that means.  And I wonder if the church that is appropriate for this time might not need to be a lot less settled.

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Renewal of Baptism

During Sunday's worship, following the sermon by Vice-Moderator Landon Whitsitt, we renewed our baptisms.  Thought some might want to see it.

The choir sang as people came to the font with the congregation joining in a refrain which goes:
   Oh, sisters (brothers), let's go down.  Let's go down, come on down.
   Oh, sisters (brothers), lets go down, down to the river to pray.
   Oh, down to the river to pray.

Spiritual Hiccups - Longing for God's Touch

I've been around sickness and death today, something that happens more often than I like, my being a pastor.  Today I met with a family to plan a funeral and did hospital visitations.  Sometimes when I am with people in such settings, I can see on their faces a longing that seems straight out of today's psalm. 

As a deer longs for flowing streams,
   so my soul longs for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God,
   for the living God.
When shall I come and behold
   the face of God?
My tears have been my food
   day and night,
while people say to me continually,
   "Where is your God?"

I encounter people on a regular basis who are longing for God's touch, for some experience of God; they get me instead.  There are times when it makes me feel terribly small, inadequate, and helpless.

Strangely enough, most people seem satisfied with my presence.  I don't mean satisfied with my performance or any great words I might offer, but simply with my being there.  As the Apostle Paul has written, our weakness and frailty is apparently no obstacle to God using us.

In today's gospel reading, Jesus calls a few fishermen as his first disciples.  This seems a most inauspicious start.  Surely there are much better candidates to be found.  But apparently these rough, uncouth fishermen will do just fine. 

I wonder how often my own feelings of smallness and inadequacy get in the way of my being the presence of God to someone who needs it?  How about you?  If Jesus can use a few fisherman to begin the Church, surely most any of us will do.

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Landon Whitsitt's Baptism of the Lord Sermon

Sunday's sermon was preached by Landon Whitsitt, vice-moderator of our denomination.  The sermon was accompanied by a renewal of baptism.  The audio quality is not the best.  My apologies.

Spiritual Hiccups - Does God Matter?

Sometimes when I read verses such as those from today's Isaiah passage, I shrug my shoulders and think, "So what?"  So God measured the waters and marked off the boundaries of the heavens; what difference does that make to my life?  What difference does it make that God is God?

These are actually very fundamental religious and theological questions.  The vast majority of Americans are in agreement that there is a God, but clearly there is no unanimity about what that means.  I can believe in God and it not make much difference in my life.  And as many have pointed out, some atheists and agnostics are every bit as "good" as believers.  People who reject religious affiliation or belief can be outstanding citizens and neighbors.  So what difference does God make?

I read Richard Rohr's Daily Meditation prior to reading today's lectionary passages.  I think that is why I didn't shrug at the Isaiah reading today.  Instead I wondered about the "central reference point" of my life.  Is it God, or is it something else.  Rohr points out that we all need to organize our lives around something.  "The psyche needs a central reference point, and will create one. If God is not the 'one,' then the Dow Jones Index or Rush Limbaugh will be. We will have a 'one' whether we realize it or not. The First Commandment does us a psychological and spiritual favor by stating, 'You shall have no god but me' (Exodus 20:3). If we have not been authored from above, we will give away our authority to what everybody else thinks, as Pilate did."

I wonder if I sometimes shrug at biblical passages describing the grandeur and sovereignty of God because God is often quite removed from my day to day living?  Too often I don't see God at work in the world, and so what difference does it make that God marked off heaven's boundaries?

Like a lot of people, my life is busy, and there never seems enough time to get it all done.  Very often, I am too busy to pray or meditate.  I am too busy to be still, to be open to God, to wait for God.  Big deal that God "marked off the heavens with a span, enclosed the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales and the hills in a balance." I've got a sermon to write and a meeting to attend.

Sometimes I wonder if all our busyness really leads to much that matters, if it leads to lives that really matter.  And that makes me wonder what truly is the central reference point in my life.

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Preaching Thoughts on a Non-Preaching Sunday

Today celebrates The Baptism of the Lord as we remember Jesus being baptized by John in the Jordan River.  Today our congregation had the pleasure of hearing Landon Whitsitt, vice-moderator of the Presbyterian Church (USA), preach and lead us in a renewal of our own baptisms.  I found it a moving service, and it was made all the more poignent for me because I offered the Prayers of the People immediately following our baptismal renewals. 

Like a lot of people, I was thinking about the shooting in Arizona yesterday as I thought about what to pray.  We had just remembered how God claims us as beloved children in the waters, how God's grace washes over us, splashing and dripping all around.  And yesterday had brought us face to face with the brokenness into which God's grace arrives.

I realize that it is far too early to draw any sweeping conclusions about yesterday's events.  This may simply be the act of a deranged individual.  But people on the left and the right are wondering today about what role the current level of vitriol in politics may have played.  Politics has long been a contact sport, but lately it seems to have gotten worse, and it is all too easy for us to demonize those with whom we disagree.  Political opponents cease to be friends and fellow citizens who have differing opinions about and become enemies.  And the language of war and battle and violence is envoked far too often.

I find this climate of hatred all the more troubling because of the fact that many Americans have been baptized as Christians yet feel free to join in the hatred.  I recall how theologian Karl Barth, in the aftermath of World War II, wondered about the fact that most all the Nazis who engaged in genocide had been baptized in the Christian Church.  He wondered about our practices regarding baptism, and he counseled the Presbyterian Church either to do a much better job of teaching and helping people live into their baptisms, or stop doing infant baptisms all together.  Sadly, we Presbyterians did not take either of his suggestions.

In his sermon, Landon spoke of how John did not want to baptize Jesus, saying that it needed to be the other way around.  But Jesus insisted, saying it was necessary.  In his baptism, Jesus began his journey to the cross.  He entered into a life lived, given, and sacrificed for the world.  And, preached Landon, in our baptisms, we enter into that same life, as a people called to give ourselves, sacrifice ourselves for the healing of the world. 

If my baptism has joined me to Christ and his work, if it has called me and the Church to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of the world, then I cannot be a party to hatred.  I cannot encourage hatred.  I cannot consider those who disagree with me my enemies.  Even if they truly were my enemies, I am called to give myself for them as well.

Today I went to the font, touched the water, and put it on my forehead.  I remembered that I have been claimed and marked for a radically different sort of life that doesn't look out for number one, but that is willing to give itself for the hope of God's new day.  Lord, help me remember that every single day.

Spiritual Hiccups - No Fear

God is our refuge and strength,
      a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
      though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; 
      though its waters roar and foam,
      though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

At the church I serve, we often use these opening verses from Psalm 46 as a responsive call to worship.  They seem an appropriate way to speak of our faith that God is with us, even in our darkest moments.  Even in the face of death we can trust that God's love does not fail. 

I know many people whose greatest comfort when they lose a loved one is this hope in God as refuge, the promise that the love of God is stronger even than death.  Despite the huge hole left when someone dies, it is a great solace to know that both we and our loved one are together held in the same love of God in Christ.

I sometimes wish we were as good at claiming the certainty and hope of God's refuge in other parts of life.  All too often in the congregations, I see people who look at the difficulties facing them with a kind of pessimistic resignation.  They see congregational decline and remember those days when the pews were all filled and the youth program was booming and see a dismal future. I have talked to long term members in some congregations who "know" that their end in inevitable.  Their best days are behind them.  Societal changes that have shaken and tossed the church's place in our culture have left them with little hope.

I've occasionally mentioned that my theological tradition highlights the problem of idolatry, of placing our hope or trust in something other than God.  And the most tempting idols are things that aren't intrinsically bad, things like family, country, and even church.  And if the struggles and decline of traditional churches pose a threat to our faith, to our hope for the future, perhaps the problem is that we have misread the Psalm saying, The church is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

One of the certainties of idols is that they will disappoint and fail us.  Perhaps when we find ourselves feeling discouraged about religious decline in America, with children who have left the church, with denominational numbers that keep shrinking, we should recall that our faith is not in religion, or churches, or denominations.  Our faith is in God and in God's love that we see embodied in Jesus. 

Jesus tells us not to worry about anything, to be willing to lose our lives for the gospel's sake.  And Jesus can do this himself because his trust in not in a movement or in his band of followers or even in his own abilities.  He trusts God to bring hope and life even from the cross.  And perhaps the church's current struggles in America offer us the opportunity to rediscover the heart of Christian faith.


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Spiritual Hiccups - Pagans at the Party

Growing up in the church, I knew all about the 3 Wise Men (although the Bible doesn't actually say how many magi were there).  But I'm not sure I had every heard of Epiphany.  Like a lot of people, we just had the Wise Men show up with the Shepherds at Christmas.  They're still there with those shepherds at the manger in the Nativity set on display in our living room.

But of course the Nativity story is in Luke and the Wise Men in Matthew.  While tradition and convenience has joined the two stories together, the point of Epiphany sometimes gets lost in the process.  Matthew doesn't actually tell any of the events at Jesus' birth.  There's a pregnant Mary and an angel visiting Joseph and then a mention that a baby was born and named Jesus.

Sometime later, perhaps as long as two years later, magi from the east come because they have seen a sign in the heavens.  These magi seem to be astrologers of some sort.  Perhaps they are Zoroastrians.  But one thing is certain.  They are Gentiles and Gentiles who follow the stars to boot.  And so in Matthew's gospel the first people to visit the young Messiah, the first to worship him, are about as far from a good Jew as you can get.  They are pagans, outsiders extraordinaire.  And their appearance in Jerusalem as they search for a new king frightens the religious insiders, not to mention the person currently claiming the title of king.

In Matthew, Jesus' birth is welcomed by outsiders, by pagans, and it instills fear in those who are heavily invested in the religious status quo, the political status quo, or both.  But all these years later, Jesus seems not at all a threat to insiders, while we insiders still often look down on outsiders.

I'm happy to keep the Wise Men a part of the creche at my house, and it doesn't bother me at all if we sing "We Three Kings" at a Christmas service.  But I think we would do well to take the time to embrace the unsettling message of Epiphany, where outsiders find it easy to accept the new day Jesus heralds, and insiders fret because they are more or less happy with things as they are.

May the joy and promise of Epiphany touch you and inspire you to give your all to the King.

Click to learn more about the Daily Lectionary as well as the Revised Common Lectionary from which today's Wise Men reading comes.

Spiritual Hiccups - Losing Our Identity

My older daughter was home over the Christmas holidays from her Teach for America assignment in New Mexico.  She is teaching elementary students in a very small town just outside of the Navajo reservation.  Most all the students at her school are Navajo, and my daughter mentioned to me that although they are fiercely proud of being Navajo, most of them seem to know next to nothing about what that means.  They know very little about their own history or Native American culture.

At first this struck me as odd, but then it occurred to me that something similar can be observed in other places.  Most Americans are proud of their nationality, but many of them cannot name the most basic events from US history or the fundamental concepts of our government.  A number of years ago a study presented sections of the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution to people on the street, and a great many of them identified these as some sort of communist propaganda.

This sort of problem is even more acute in many churches.  Most Christians revere the Bible, but a large majority of them almost never read it.  And so their definition of "being Christian" is often something cobbled together from a variety of sources, and this definition is often at odds with what Scripture says.  Not only to people presume that popular proverbs such as "God helps those who help themselves" are to be found in the Bible (the saying is by Benjamin Franklin), but they presume behaviors endorsed by the society at large must be compatible with the Bible.  And so Tucker Carlson could say just the other day that he is Christian and believes in "second chances" but that Michael Vick's killing of dogs was unforgivable and he should be executed. 

That is only one, highly publicized example.  Many Christians seem to think that their faith is a purely personal thing with no political or societal implications, this despite the fact that Jesus speaks regularly in political terms about a society where God's will is done, where the poor and the oppressed have good news brought to them.  And many have combined their faith with American individualism as though there were no tension at all between the two, this despite Jesus' insistence that true life comes, not from claiming our own rights and privileges, but from being willing to give them up for the sake of others.

I could go on and on, but I hope my point is clear.  We cannot become Christians simply by absorbing some vague sense of it from the prevailing culture.  We must sit at Jesus' feet as disciples, learning from him.  And there is simply no way to do this without engaging the Bible.  We cannot be Christian in any real sense of the
word if we do not do as God commands Joshua in today's Old Testament reading.  ^"Only be strong and very courageous, being careful to act in accordance with all the law that my servant Moses commanded you; do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, so that you may be successful wherever you go. This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth; you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to act in accordance with all that is written in it."

Many of us American Christians are facing an identity crisis.  We have lost our biblical identity, and so we not only are prone to being misled by anyone who speaks with what seems an authoritative, religious voice, but we haven't a clear enough sense of what it means to be a Christian to share our faith with anyone else. 

But the good news is that all it takes to correct this situation is for intentional faith communities to take seriously their call to follow Jesus, and to begin studying and discussing together what this might look like.  And when people starting letting their encounter with Jesus change them and change the faith community they are a part of, then they start to become something that others will notice.  Then they start to be the Church, the body of Christ in the world, living out the ways of Jesus for all to see.

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