Today’s second lesson contains one of my favorite Bible passages from the third chapter of the book of Galatians. To me, it embodies the ideal that is the Kingdom of God and how that kingdom ideally operates. St. Paul writes, “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek. There is no longer slave or free. There is no longer male or female for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”
Imagine a world where we are not divided into categories or separated by gender or social status. Imagine a world where those things make absolutely no difference at all: where Republicans and Democrats sit at table together and don’t argue about politics and who is right and who is wrong and whose fault it is for the economy or poverty or what have you. Imagine a world where men and women do not blame gender differences for how one acts and the hobbies one engages in or the television shows a person watches. Imagine a world where country folks are not called redneck hicks and city folks aren’t called city slickers and each works for the betterment of the other. I can imagine such a world, and it looks pretty good.
The early Christian church imagined such a world, and when it came to worship, they actually managed to enact it in many and various places. And for many during that period, it was a sight to behold. For in the Greco-Roman society, you just didn’t cross social, ethnic, and religious boundaries. Jews didn’t associate and sit down to eat with Gentiles. Slaves were not allowed to eat and associate with free. Males and females had their various spheres and the two were not to clash. But, when the early church gathered for worship, exactly those things happened. All of these differences were set aside as the early church gathered to be nourished with God’s word, fellowship, and meal. Those who were outside the faith marveled at this new world being embraced by this entity called the Church. Within, there was no mystery. Those who gathered believed that Christ had called each and every one of them. They believed they were redeemed sinners and called to live differently, and it started in worship as they sought to have a piece of God’s Kingdom on earth.
God’s Kingdom on earth. It is something we pray for each and every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer. “Thy kingdom come–thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” We see glimpses of this kingdom from time to time in our daily lives as we see acts of kindness, compassion, and hope. We see glimpses of this kingdom as we see children laugh and play. We see glimpses of this kingdom when we throw our heads back and laugh loudly and powerfully. We see glimpses of this kingdom as we see the love and commitment in a couple married for 50 or more years. But we know that kingdom has not arrived fully. We know there is much still that must happen before that kingdom encompasses all of reality. And, so it is that we gather for worship each week. We gather for worship to pray for the fullness of that kingdom, and, this is important, we gather to enact a piece of that kingdom on earth. Just like the early church, it is our goal now to provide a place where there is no distinction where all are clothed with Christ and we worship Him with reckless abandon.
That’s the ideal. But what is reality? What is the reality of most of our churches these days? These are the questions I began asking myself this past week as I worked on this sermon. I started delving into my own heart and mind as I wrestled with this favorite Bible passage from the book of Galatains. “For as many of you as are baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ and there is no longer Jew or Greek. There is no longer slave or free. There is no longer male or female. For all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”
As I took my journey of introspection, I realized something quite concerning. I realized something quite unsettling. A question began resonating deep within the recesses of my heart and mind. “Do you see Christ in those who are gathering for worship?” I had to stop for a moment as that question formulated. I had to catch my bearings. For I realized, I do not. And I realized it’s not intentional. I mean, when I come to worship each Sunday and see each of you, I see you. I see Rick and Jean and Melvin and Suzie and Glenda and Shirley and James and Otto and Clarence and so on and so forth. I see each and every one of you as the unique individuals that God made you. But I confess to you this morning, I was not seeing Christ–and in many ways, I still am not–even though I should. For seeing Christ in you and as we see Christ in one another, I believe, could set us apart tremendously from the rest of the world in how we treat each other.
To illustrate, let me tell this old story that I believe I have recounted before. There was once a monastery that had fallen upon hard times. No longer did pilgrims travel to this holy place to chant the old liturgy and seek spiritual peace and guidance. No longer did people offer donations to help the monastery engage its job and practice of prayer and holiness. The stress and labors led the brothers to begin bickering and arguing amongst themselves. Rumors often spread like wildfire, and bitterness reigned.
The abbot of the monastery had tried many and various things to try and turn things around, but all had failed. Nothing seemed to work, and so, at his last straw, he decided to visit a teacher who resided in a nearby wood. According to legend, this teacher had regular visits with the Lord and spoke with the Lord just like you and I would speak on the phone. Desperate for advice, the abbot sought this teacher out.
Walking down an old, beaten path, the abbot finally came to the teacher’s humble hut. The teacher was sitting outside, and the abbot saw that the teacher seemed to be expecting him. The teacher stood and embraced the abbot, and unexpectedly, the abbot began shedding tears.
The teacher led the abbot into his home, and they sat down. There, the abbot poured out his grief. He told the teacher of how the monastery had fallen onto hard times–how pilgrims no longer sought spiritual comfort or peace there–how no longer people would come and worship with them and support them–how the brothers seemed to argue and bicker and fight and spread rumors–how he had tried everything he knew to reverse this process but how they had all failed. Knowing that the teacher regularly spoke with the Lord, the abbot had come seeking a word that might help their situation.
The teacher embraced the abbot once more. “I know why you are here,” he said. “The Lord told me to expect you. That’s why I was waiting outside.”
“Did the Lord give you anything to tell me?” the abbot asked.
“Yes,” the teacher replied. “He told me to tell you one thing. He said, ‘Tell the abbot that he is to go back to the brothers and tell them, ‘The Messiah is among you.’‘”
Pondering this news, the abbot returned to the monastery. The brothers anxiously asked the abbot what the teacher in the woods had said. The abbot gathered the brothers in the chapel and said, “The teacher said the Lord had one thing to say to us. The Lord said, ‘The Messiah is among you.’”
Immediately, this caused a stir among the brothers. Who is the Messiah? Is it Brother John? Is it Brother Alfred? Is it Brother Lawrence? They began pondering the implications of this, and since they didn’t know who the Messiah was in their midst, they began treating each and every brother as if he could be the Messiah. Soon, bitterness and rumor was replaced with gentleness, compassion, and friendliness. The respect, love, and joy the brothers showed toward one another became palpable. You could literally feel it when you walked into the monastery.
Soon, pilgrims from all over began making their way to the monastery once again to sing the old liturgies, to seek spiritual wisdom, to give their offerings, and to marvel at this group of brothers who treated one another in such a marvelous way.
My brothers and sisters in Christ, we do not need anyone to tell us that the Messiah is among us. We know that where two or three are gathered in His name, Jesus is with them. We also know that as many of us who were baptized into Christ have clothed themselves with Christ so that there is no longer any distinctions. Christ is among us and can be found sitting next to us. How do we desire to treat Him? Amen.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Missing the Mark
I will return to the questions raised in my blog posts the last two days sometime next week. For today, perhaps something a little lighter.
I have become a dead shot.
I do not say this as a statement of pride or arrogance. In fact, until very recently, I wasn't exactly the most confident shot or a very good shooter at all. There are probably a lot of reasons for that which I will not go into here. But after purchasing a new rifle, equipping it with a pretty good scope, and firing a whole lot of rounds through it, the results are coming in:
With an appropriate rest, I can put a bullet where it needs to be with very little variation. The last four times I've gone pig hunting, I've managed to drop three pigs each shot right behind the ear. Previous to this, I hadn't hit a pig right in the head like that at all. Something has happened to help me hit the mark and hit that mark on a regular basis.
I think the biggest thing is becoming consistent. When practicing, I finally found a method which allows me to consistently hold the gun in exactly the same manner, aim in exactly the same manner, and pull the trigger in exactly the same manner. I don't think I've always been so consistent. And now that I have figured out how to bring the same method of the gun range into the deer stand, the results are fabulous!
Well...
Almost.
You see, I've pulled the trigger on four pigs and bagged three. Last night, I missed the mark.
I saw a monster boar. He weighed anywhere from 350 to 400 lbs. When he came out, I figured he was going to head to the feeder, and I'd get a shot at him there, but I was wrong. He started circling well behind the feeder, and he turned to head toward the woods at the far end of the property. I didn't want him to get away, so I steadied my gun, rested it perfectly, aimed, and the pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
I saw dust kick up right behind the pig and a very startled pig take off running like a bullet.
"WTH?" I thought to myself. "How did I miss that? Is my gun off? Did I jump?"
The pig ran off toward another stand at the place where I hunt, so I jumped out of the blind and headed to the other stand. After several minutes, I arrived only to see another group of pigs heading back toward my previous spot. And, since I saw no sign of the giant boar, I headed back to the previous stand.
I came out into the clearing and there were nearly 30 pigs under the feeder! I was 30 yards from the stand, and I thought, "They'll probably see me and take off." But they didn't. I managed to get back in the stand. Set up my shooting bag, and get perfectly situated to get off another shot. There was only one problem: with so many pigs running around, I couldn't get a very good head shot. I had to wait 2 or 3 minutes before finally getting the right shot.
BOOM!
Pig down. Walking up to it--dead shot right behind the ear.
Nothing wrong with the gun. Nothing wrong with the scope. Nothing wrong with the rest. Nothing wrong with the shooter. Why did I miss earlier?
As best as I can figure, the darn pig ducked his head just as I was squeezing off the trigger. The bullet just sailed over his head, and I missed the mark.
Now, for some theology:
One may think one is doing everything correctly. One might think one is a dead shot. One might become arrogant and overconfident that one hits the target every time. But no one hits it every time. All sorts of circumstances come into play which lead one to miss the mark. And it really doesn't matter whose "fault" it is for missing. One still misses. There is no such thing as perfection.
But it is demanded. Luckily, I am not in a situation where I needed the meat from that first pig, but if I were, I just lost the opportunity to feed me and my family for a while. I just lost the opportunity to rid this area of another animal which has become a major nuisance. Missing is unacceptable.
Just like sin. One of the traditional understandings of sin is to miss the mark. It's something we all do no matter how much of a dead shot we think we are. Sure, we might think we hit the target perfectly from time to time, but sometimes we just think we're doing well until we find ourselves in a situation where there are quite a few things out of our control. Then, we miss the mark. And if we live in a world where things are always changing--where there are things that are always out of our control, we will miss the mark often and a lot. Even if you think you are a dead shot, you'd better be humble because you will miss--guaranteed.
And this is why I am thankful for God's forgiveness and grace. Missing isn't the end of the world. There's another chance to take aim and fire. And perhaps this time, you'll hit dead center.
I have become a dead shot.
I do not say this as a statement of pride or arrogance. In fact, until very recently, I wasn't exactly the most confident shot or a very good shooter at all. There are probably a lot of reasons for that which I will not go into here. But after purchasing a new rifle, equipping it with a pretty good scope, and firing a whole lot of rounds through it, the results are coming in:
With an appropriate rest, I can put a bullet where it needs to be with very little variation. The last four times I've gone pig hunting, I've managed to drop three pigs each shot right behind the ear. Previous to this, I hadn't hit a pig right in the head like that at all. Something has happened to help me hit the mark and hit that mark on a regular basis.
I think the biggest thing is becoming consistent. When practicing, I finally found a method which allows me to consistently hold the gun in exactly the same manner, aim in exactly the same manner, and pull the trigger in exactly the same manner. I don't think I've always been so consistent. And now that I have figured out how to bring the same method of the gun range into the deer stand, the results are fabulous!
Well...
Almost.
You see, I've pulled the trigger on four pigs and bagged three. Last night, I missed the mark.
I saw a monster boar. He weighed anywhere from 350 to 400 lbs. When he came out, I figured he was going to head to the feeder, and I'd get a shot at him there, but I was wrong. He started circling well behind the feeder, and he turned to head toward the woods at the far end of the property. I didn't want him to get away, so I steadied my gun, rested it perfectly, aimed, and the pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
I saw dust kick up right behind the pig and a very startled pig take off running like a bullet.
"WTH?" I thought to myself. "How did I miss that? Is my gun off? Did I jump?"
The pig ran off toward another stand at the place where I hunt, so I jumped out of the blind and headed to the other stand. After several minutes, I arrived only to see another group of pigs heading back toward my previous spot. And, since I saw no sign of the giant boar, I headed back to the previous stand.
I came out into the clearing and there were nearly 30 pigs under the feeder! I was 30 yards from the stand, and I thought, "They'll probably see me and take off." But they didn't. I managed to get back in the stand. Set up my shooting bag, and get perfectly situated to get off another shot. There was only one problem: with so many pigs running around, I couldn't get a very good head shot. I had to wait 2 or 3 minutes before finally getting the right shot.
BOOM!
Pig down. Walking up to it--dead shot right behind the ear.
Nothing wrong with the gun. Nothing wrong with the scope. Nothing wrong with the rest. Nothing wrong with the shooter. Why did I miss earlier?
As best as I can figure, the darn pig ducked his head just as I was squeezing off the trigger. The bullet just sailed over his head, and I missed the mark.
Now, for some theology:
One may think one is doing everything correctly. One might think one is a dead shot. One might become arrogant and overconfident that one hits the target every time. But no one hits it every time. All sorts of circumstances come into play which lead one to miss the mark. And it really doesn't matter whose "fault" it is for missing. One still misses. There is no such thing as perfection.
But it is demanded. Luckily, I am not in a situation where I needed the meat from that first pig, but if I were, I just lost the opportunity to feed me and my family for a while. I just lost the opportunity to rid this area of another animal which has become a major nuisance. Missing is unacceptable.
Just like sin. One of the traditional understandings of sin is to miss the mark. It's something we all do no matter how much of a dead shot we think we are. Sure, we might think we hit the target perfectly from time to time, but sometimes we just think we're doing well until we find ourselves in a situation where there are quite a few things out of our control. Then, we miss the mark. And if we live in a world where things are always changing--where there are things that are always out of our control, we will miss the mark often and a lot. Even if you think you are a dead shot, you'd better be humble because you will miss--guaranteed.
And this is why I am thankful for God's forgiveness and grace. Missing isn't the end of the world. There's another chance to take aim and fire. And perhaps this time, you'll hit dead center.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
One More Piece for Clarity's Sake
Yesterday, I spoke of how the theologies of Rudolf Bultmann, Marcus Borg, and John Dominic Crossan have heavily influenced the teachings of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Seeing how the poor quality of their theology has influenced the teaching/preaching/social ministry of my denomination brought some clarity as to one of the reasons my denomination is struggling. But there is another piece of the puzzle which has affected the larger denomination--Liberation Theology.
This particular brand of theology finds its roots in Latin America where social stratification is very pronounced. You have rich and poor and little to nothing in between. As people at the bottom of the social strata began reading scripture, they found comfort, solace, and perhaps even more important, empowerment in the Bible's teachings regarding God's preferential support for the poor and oppressed.
There is little doubt that Scripture shows a continuity from Old to New Testament of God's deep desire for the care of the poor, widowed, and orphaned. Law after law, teaching after teaching, and exhortation after exhortation show this. There are more than a few condemnations toward the rich and powerful, especially those who revel in their wealth and refuse to care for those who are less fortunate.
Poor peasants in Latin America found this to be vastly empowering and vastly hope filled. God shared their plight! God frowned upon those who would seek to keep them impoverished! They had theological and moral backing for speaking out against the injustices committed against them!
Of course, this theological movement made more than a few in the hierarchy of the Church uncomfortable. What about the wealthier folks who frequented the pews and put money in the offering plate? Should the church join the voices of the poor and oppressed to speak out against such injustice when it is likely to offend those worshiping and contributing? What about the people in power who supported the Church as long as the Church talked about spiritual matters but left worldly matters in the hands of the government--even if the government was corrupt? What was the Church to do?
Actually, the answer was a no-brainer. The Church was and is called to speak out on behalf of the poor and oppressed. There really is no argument on that. In fact, I would push it even further--the Church is called not just to speak for the poor and oppressed, but the Church is called to help the poor and oppressed find their own voice and speak for themselves. That's true empowerment. Otherwise, the poor and oppressed become dependent upon the Church, and that's not the egalitarian nature intended by Christ.
So, what is the problem with liberation theology? In the context above, nothing. But when removed from the particular context it was formed, there is a big problem.
Liberation theology teaches that one must look at the world through a particular lens: the lens of oppressor/oppressed. God gives preferential care and concern to the oppressed--again, clearly articulated in Scripture. Therefore, if one seeks to apply Liberation Theology to ANY given context, one seeks to be oppressed! It becomes fashionable to be oppressed! Well, this means there needs to be an oppressor, so we have to find one of those too. Soon, Jesus is seen to be on my side, and everyone else is the one with the issues.
Luke Timothy Johnson is instrumental once again in his critique found in The Real Jesus: The Misguided Quest for the Historical Jesus and the Truth of the Traditional Gospels:
The popularity of liberation theology in many liberal Protestant and Catholic seminaries has only widened the gap between the critically educated clergy and the people they were called to serve. Such liberation has tended to base itself squarely on a "historical Jesus" that has been critically reconstructed from the Gospels after they have been subjected to the appropriate ideological criticism. The distinction between "Jesus" and "Christianity" is ideologically exploited. In the feminist reading, the "woman-defined Jesus" who preaches a version of female wisdom and displays all the appropriate gender-inclusive attitudes is supplanted by the patriarchal Paul, who, despite his nod to egalitarianism, suppresses women in his churches, and through his letters also suppresses women through the entire history of the church. In the Latin American reading, the Jesus who proclaimed a Jubilee year for the poor and followed an itinerant lifestyle is supplanted by the bourgeois tendencies of Pauline Christianity, which softens the countercultural edge of the Jesus movement. In the radical gay liberationist reading, the antiestablishment Jesus is declared "as queer as you or me" and the heroic enemy of heterosexist hegemony. Once more, Paul's statements against homosexuality represent the enemy. In each version, Jesus is pitted against the church, and the Gospels are pitted against the rest of the New Testament, but only when read against their plain sense to yield a portrait of Jesus that fits the ideological commitments of the readers. (page 65)
Add one more way in which people form their own personal Jesus--this time based upon their own cultural ideology.
So, what do you get when you put together:
1. A theology which denies the miraculous and places science and reason above faith? (Bultmann)
+
2. A theology which makes Jesus into a liberal academic? (Borg)
+
3. A theology which makes Jesus a poor peasant criticizing the religious establishment and oppressive powers--whose body was not resurrected but eaten by dogs, and whose followers had a mental understanding of Jesus still living? (Crossan)
+
4. A theology which makes it fashionable to be oppressed and lift up any marginalized group (even if that marginalization is due to that group's embracing beliefs contrary to scripture)?
+
5. A theology which takes the concept of grace and then leans too far toward the anti-nomian position?
Well, my friends, you've got the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America--as well as several other mainline denominations.
Poor scholarship. Poor practice. Is it any wonder for the declining state of mainline Christianity?
I asked yesterday, and so I continue today...what is the remedy? Believe me, I know too well the futility in stemming the tide of this theological monstrosity. It's entrenched and isn't going anywhere. So, what is one to do? Where does one turn?
More to come...
This particular brand of theology finds its roots in Latin America where social stratification is very pronounced. You have rich and poor and little to nothing in between. As people at the bottom of the social strata began reading scripture, they found comfort, solace, and perhaps even more important, empowerment in the Bible's teachings regarding God's preferential support for the poor and oppressed.
There is little doubt that Scripture shows a continuity from Old to New Testament of God's deep desire for the care of the poor, widowed, and orphaned. Law after law, teaching after teaching, and exhortation after exhortation show this. There are more than a few condemnations toward the rich and powerful, especially those who revel in their wealth and refuse to care for those who are less fortunate.
Poor peasants in Latin America found this to be vastly empowering and vastly hope filled. God shared their plight! God frowned upon those who would seek to keep them impoverished! They had theological and moral backing for speaking out against the injustices committed against them!
Of course, this theological movement made more than a few in the hierarchy of the Church uncomfortable. What about the wealthier folks who frequented the pews and put money in the offering plate? Should the church join the voices of the poor and oppressed to speak out against such injustice when it is likely to offend those worshiping and contributing? What about the people in power who supported the Church as long as the Church talked about spiritual matters but left worldly matters in the hands of the government--even if the government was corrupt? What was the Church to do?
Actually, the answer was a no-brainer. The Church was and is called to speak out on behalf of the poor and oppressed. There really is no argument on that. In fact, I would push it even further--the Church is called not just to speak for the poor and oppressed, but the Church is called to help the poor and oppressed find their own voice and speak for themselves. That's true empowerment. Otherwise, the poor and oppressed become dependent upon the Church, and that's not the egalitarian nature intended by Christ.
So, what is the problem with liberation theology? In the context above, nothing. But when removed from the particular context it was formed, there is a big problem.
Liberation theology teaches that one must look at the world through a particular lens: the lens of oppressor/oppressed. God gives preferential care and concern to the oppressed--again, clearly articulated in Scripture. Therefore, if one seeks to apply Liberation Theology to ANY given context, one seeks to be oppressed! It becomes fashionable to be oppressed! Well, this means there needs to be an oppressor, so we have to find one of those too. Soon, Jesus is seen to be on my side, and everyone else is the one with the issues.
Luke Timothy Johnson is instrumental once again in his critique found in The Real Jesus: The Misguided Quest for the Historical Jesus and the Truth of the Traditional Gospels:
The popularity of liberation theology in many liberal Protestant and Catholic seminaries has only widened the gap between the critically educated clergy and the people they were called to serve. Such liberation has tended to base itself squarely on a "historical Jesus" that has been critically reconstructed from the Gospels after they have been subjected to the appropriate ideological criticism. The distinction between "Jesus" and "Christianity" is ideologically exploited. In the feminist reading, the "woman-defined Jesus" who preaches a version of female wisdom and displays all the appropriate gender-inclusive attitudes is supplanted by the patriarchal Paul, who, despite his nod to egalitarianism, suppresses women in his churches, and through his letters also suppresses women through the entire history of the church. In the Latin American reading, the Jesus who proclaimed a Jubilee year for the poor and followed an itinerant lifestyle is supplanted by the bourgeois tendencies of Pauline Christianity, which softens the countercultural edge of the Jesus movement. In the radical gay liberationist reading, the antiestablishment Jesus is declared "as queer as you or me" and the heroic enemy of heterosexist hegemony. Once more, Paul's statements against homosexuality represent the enemy. In each version, Jesus is pitted against the church, and the Gospels are pitted against the rest of the New Testament, but only when read against their plain sense to yield a portrait of Jesus that fits the ideological commitments of the readers. (page 65)
Add one more way in which people form their own personal Jesus--this time based upon their own cultural ideology.
So, what do you get when you put together:
1. A theology which denies the miraculous and places science and reason above faith? (Bultmann)
+
2. A theology which makes Jesus into a liberal academic? (Borg)
+
3. A theology which makes Jesus a poor peasant criticizing the religious establishment and oppressive powers--whose body was not resurrected but eaten by dogs, and whose followers had a mental understanding of Jesus still living? (Crossan)
+
4. A theology which makes it fashionable to be oppressed and lift up any marginalized group (even if that marginalization is due to that group's embracing beliefs contrary to scripture)?
+
5. A theology which takes the concept of grace and then leans too far toward the anti-nomian position?
Well, my friends, you've got the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America--as well as several other mainline denominations.
Poor scholarship. Poor practice. Is it any wonder for the declining state of mainline Christianity?
I asked yesterday, and so I continue today...what is the remedy? Believe me, I know too well the futility in stemming the tide of this theological monstrosity. It's entrenched and isn't going anywhere. So, what is one to do? Where does one turn?
More to come...
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Getting More Clarity
I am slowly (it takes me a while, alright!) getting more clarity as to what ails Christianity in these United States of America. Thankfully, I am not the only one who sees this. There are others, and their thoughts are informing mine. So perhaps, this blogging is me just regurgitating what I have heard, but for me I think it is more than simple repetition, for when one regurgitates, one does not keep anything inside. Much of what I am learning, I am retaining and making it my own.
It is becoming more and more apparent that one of the major things that ails U.S. Christianity is: bad theology leads to bad practice and bad practice leads to bad theology.
I'll begin with some thoughts on the former and then proceed to the latter of those two thoughts.
More often than not, we seek justification for our beliefs and actions. When this occurs, our actions drive our theology. One need not look too far in the present or in the past to see this happening.
Some of my readers at this point might be thinking, "Oh great. Time to stop reading. I'm not interested in theological/scholarly battles. I'd rather just practice my faith without worrying about such matters."
I understand such thoughts. Believe me, I once held to such a line of thinking--content to do my own thing in my area of influence without regard to what was going on in the wider field of the church or society. But I have a problem: I care very deeply about what happens to this faith that has claimed me. I care very deeply for its public expression: the Church. I care that the influence of the Church is currently in decline as is Church membership and attendance. While I am loathe to say that I can have much of an impact on this decline as it is far beyond my power or scope to change anything, I also know that I cannot simply remain silent when I have discovered things which I believe are adding fuel to the fires of decline. If you agree, then please read on.
Of Bultmann, Borg and Crossan
In my recent reading, I have come to see just how much of an influence such scholars as Rudolf Bultmann, Marcus Borg, and John Dominic Crossan have had in my own denomination. I believe each of these scholars' work was/is driven by a particular practice leading to bad theology. That theology, in turn, has become very influential in its teaching which has led to bad practice. We begin with Bultmann.
Bultmann worked in the early 1900's, and he was heavily influenced by Enlightenment thought and the rise of reason and science. He found difficulty in reconciling reason and science's empirical nature with what he deemed the mythology found in Christianity. How could one embrace the wonders of science and reason which seemed to eliminate the possibility of God acting in the world and breaking natural law with the miraculous deeds and wonders found in the Bible? Bultmann's answer: demythologize the Bible. Recognize the miraculous as stories and deeds meant to convey a point but lacking any historical reality.
Of course, this meant that one had to approach the Bible in a certain fashion. One could no longer rely on Scriptures to convey the historical truth of things--one had to dig deep within the Bible to figure out what was "really" factual and what was myth. Scripture must now be approached with a hermeneutic of suspicion instead of a hermeneutic of trust. One cannot underestimate the pull that Bultmann had with his theology. It's still around today and has been pushed to some rather unfortunate conclusions.
Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan both embrace this hermeneutic of suspicion in their works, and they continue to have tremendous influence in my denomination despite being taken to task by more than a few other scholars. Some outside the ELCA might scoff at this suggestion, but I can assure you, it is no mere flight of fancy of this writer's mind. In the last issue of L Magazine two of the prominent "Resource Picks" are none other than these two scholars.
Each of these men has delved into seeking the "historical" Jesus--again, reading the Gospel narratives with the idea of suspicion instead of trust in an attempt to distinguish what is "really" Jesus from that which is more a community/early Church construct of Jesus.
Yesterday, as I re-read through Luke Timothy Johnson's The Real Jesus: The Misguided Quest for the Historical Jesus and the Truth of the Traditional Gospels (A head's up to my New Testament prof in Seminary Dr. Ray Pickett. He actually had the guts to suggest this book to his class and say that it was far and away the best of the books to read in the Third Quest for the Historical Jesus. I think Johnson has been surpassed by Richard Bauckham personally, but there are still great and timely thoughts by Johnson even though his book is dated by scholarly standards.), I was struck by Johnson's thorough critique of Borg and Crossan.
Against Borg:
It does not take an exceptionally discerning eye to detect more than a little of the "dominant consciousness" of yet another sort at work in this [Borg's] analysis, namely, the cultural assumptions of the contemporary American academy. Jesus' "relevance" turns out to be the way in which he can function as the prototype of the sort of "cultural critique" that many academics think the rest of the world needs: the "politics of holiness" that is overly concerned with rules and status and exclusion should be replaced by a "politics of compassion" that is committed to freedom and equality and inclusion. (page 43)
Johnson's critique goes further and deeper, but it is of note that Jesus, for Borg, becomes like Borg--a cultural critic who embraces academia's concerns. As I have noted before, Borg makes Jesus look just like Borg. This is not good theology, historical study, or scholarship.
Against Crossan:
For all their self-conscious methodology and social-scientific sophistication, Crossan's efforts reveal themselves as an only slightly camouflaged exercise in theologial revisionism rather than genuine historiography...To construct his portrayal of Jesus, he will draw on any apocryphal writing in preference to any canonical writing. The criteria that matter for determining authenticity are those that make up the predetermined portrait that Crossan wishes to emerge. His use of cross-cultural patterns reduces Jesus to a stereotypical cultural category, that of a member of "peasant culture." Into this historical cipher Crossan can pour his own vision of what "Christianity" ought to be: not a church with leaders and cult and creeds, but a loose association of Cynic philosophers who broker their own access to the kingdom of self-esteem and mutual acceptance. (page 50)
Again, we see Crossan constructing his own Jesus to suit his own desires of what Christianity should be. This is not good theology, historical study, or scholarship.
So, how is it that L Magazine holds up Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan as important resources for leaders in the ELCA? How is it that Marcus Borg is invited to a theological conference to speak to pastors and others leaders of the three Texas/Louisiana synods of the ELCA? How is it that these scholars continue to have such an influence in my denomination?
One of the Major Problems with U.S. Christianity
I think Borg, Crossan, and Bultmann give theologial underpinning and theological blessing to the particular agenda embraced by the leadership of the ELCA. These scholars provide a methodology of allowing Scripture to be read with suspicion so that scripture must prove itself. When one approaches scripture in such a fashion, one can easily say, "Well, sure, that's what the Bible says on the surface, but what does it "really" mean?"
With this methodology, one can easily and purposely alter scripture to fit one's personal or social agenda. Certain texts and passages can be disregarded at one's leisure and can be changed to fit the particular historical/social context. In effect, we can change Jesus/we can change the teachings of the Bible instead of Jesus and the teachings of the Bible changing us. Well, that's not entirely true because OUR reading of the Bible has made us pretty comfortable, but it is everyone else who doesn't read the Bible like us who needs to change.
This is a major problem because it leads us straight to idolatry. We construct our own God. We construct our own Jesus. We construct our own faith. We are not held accountable by a faith that is outside of ourselves--it is others who have to change, not us. God has blessed us and our doings, but not those others who disagree with us.
I want to take a small tangent here because one might get the idea that it is only liberal Christianity that I am critiquing. One would be wrong. The Christian right is just as guilty as the Christian left of participating in such matters. While they might deny it vehemently, it is not that difficult to see they too construct their own personal Jesuses. Case in point: I have never met a conservative Christian who says that they take the Bible literally actually take Luke 14:33 literally. ("So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.")
It has become clear to me that in the U.S. in this postmodern age, we live in an age of idolatry. We construct our own personal Jesus based upon our own ideology and actions. We then seek out congregations and denominations and scholars which embrace our portrait of Jesus or paint one very similar to our own. We justify such actions with bad theology which begins with the assumption that the source and norm of our faith--the Bible--be held in skepticism instead of trust.
And voices which call us back to the historic/orthodox faith are all but drowned out and muted. They are not controversial enough. They don't generate headlines. They make us uncomfortable because they do not allow us to be complacent. They call us to transformation, and we are content to be like we are feeling we have no need to change ourselves or our worldviews.
What is the answer? I think I've managed to get some clarity on part of the problem, but it is not enough to simply articulate the problem. Solutions are also demanded. A critic comes down off the mountain after the battle is done and shoots the wounded. A doctor heals them.
What does the orthodox faith teach us? What does the Great Physician say? More to come...
It is becoming more and more apparent that one of the major things that ails U.S. Christianity is: bad theology leads to bad practice and bad practice leads to bad theology.
I'll begin with some thoughts on the former and then proceed to the latter of those two thoughts.
More often than not, we seek justification for our beliefs and actions. When this occurs, our actions drive our theology. One need not look too far in the present or in the past to see this happening.
- Slave owners justified slavery citing certain portions of scripture while ignoring others.
- Kings and popes justified the crusades by citing certain portions of scripture while ignoring Jesus' explicit commands.
- Christians continually lobby the government to instill policies and laws which uphold their ideals of what Christianity is about.
Some of my readers at this point might be thinking, "Oh great. Time to stop reading. I'm not interested in theological/scholarly battles. I'd rather just practice my faith without worrying about such matters."
I understand such thoughts. Believe me, I once held to such a line of thinking--content to do my own thing in my area of influence without regard to what was going on in the wider field of the church or society. But I have a problem: I care very deeply about what happens to this faith that has claimed me. I care very deeply for its public expression: the Church. I care that the influence of the Church is currently in decline as is Church membership and attendance. While I am loathe to say that I can have much of an impact on this decline as it is far beyond my power or scope to change anything, I also know that I cannot simply remain silent when I have discovered things which I believe are adding fuel to the fires of decline. If you agree, then please read on.
Of Bultmann, Borg and Crossan
In my recent reading, I have come to see just how much of an influence such scholars as Rudolf Bultmann, Marcus Borg, and John Dominic Crossan have had in my own denomination. I believe each of these scholars' work was/is driven by a particular practice leading to bad theology. That theology, in turn, has become very influential in its teaching which has led to bad practice. We begin with Bultmann.
Bultmann worked in the early 1900's, and he was heavily influenced by Enlightenment thought and the rise of reason and science. He found difficulty in reconciling reason and science's empirical nature with what he deemed the mythology found in Christianity. How could one embrace the wonders of science and reason which seemed to eliminate the possibility of God acting in the world and breaking natural law with the miraculous deeds and wonders found in the Bible? Bultmann's answer: demythologize the Bible. Recognize the miraculous as stories and deeds meant to convey a point but lacking any historical reality.
Of course, this meant that one had to approach the Bible in a certain fashion. One could no longer rely on Scriptures to convey the historical truth of things--one had to dig deep within the Bible to figure out what was "really" factual and what was myth. Scripture must now be approached with a hermeneutic of suspicion instead of a hermeneutic of trust. One cannot underestimate the pull that Bultmann had with his theology. It's still around today and has been pushed to some rather unfortunate conclusions.
Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan both embrace this hermeneutic of suspicion in their works, and they continue to have tremendous influence in my denomination despite being taken to task by more than a few other scholars. Some outside the ELCA might scoff at this suggestion, but I can assure you, it is no mere flight of fancy of this writer's mind. In the last issue of L Magazine two of the prominent "Resource Picks" are none other than these two scholars.
Each of these men has delved into seeking the "historical" Jesus--again, reading the Gospel narratives with the idea of suspicion instead of trust in an attempt to distinguish what is "really" Jesus from that which is more a community/early Church construct of Jesus.
Yesterday, as I re-read through Luke Timothy Johnson's The Real Jesus: The Misguided Quest for the Historical Jesus and the Truth of the Traditional Gospels (A head's up to my New Testament prof in Seminary Dr. Ray Pickett. He actually had the guts to suggest this book to his class and say that it was far and away the best of the books to read in the Third Quest for the Historical Jesus. I think Johnson has been surpassed by Richard Bauckham personally, but there are still great and timely thoughts by Johnson even though his book is dated by scholarly standards.), I was struck by Johnson's thorough critique of Borg and Crossan.
Against Borg:
It does not take an exceptionally discerning eye to detect more than a little of the "dominant consciousness" of yet another sort at work in this [Borg's] analysis, namely, the cultural assumptions of the contemporary American academy. Jesus' "relevance" turns out to be the way in which he can function as the prototype of the sort of "cultural critique" that many academics think the rest of the world needs: the "politics of holiness" that is overly concerned with rules and status and exclusion should be replaced by a "politics of compassion" that is committed to freedom and equality and inclusion. (page 43)
Johnson's critique goes further and deeper, but it is of note that Jesus, for Borg, becomes like Borg--a cultural critic who embraces academia's concerns. As I have noted before, Borg makes Jesus look just like Borg. This is not good theology, historical study, or scholarship.
Against Crossan:
For all their self-conscious methodology and social-scientific sophistication, Crossan's efforts reveal themselves as an only slightly camouflaged exercise in theologial revisionism rather than genuine historiography...To construct his portrayal of Jesus, he will draw on any apocryphal writing in preference to any canonical writing. The criteria that matter for determining authenticity are those that make up the predetermined portrait that Crossan wishes to emerge. His use of cross-cultural patterns reduces Jesus to a stereotypical cultural category, that of a member of "peasant culture." Into this historical cipher Crossan can pour his own vision of what "Christianity" ought to be: not a church with leaders and cult and creeds, but a loose association of Cynic philosophers who broker their own access to the kingdom of self-esteem and mutual acceptance. (page 50)
Again, we see Crossan constructing his own Jesus to suit his own desires of what Christianity should be. This is not good theology, historical study, or scholarship.
So, how is it that L Magazine holds up Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan as important resources for leaders in the ELCA? How is it that Marcus Borg is invited to a theological conference to speak to pastors and others leaders of the three Texas/Louisiana synods of the ELCA? How is it that these scholars continue to have such an influence in my denomination?
One of the Major Problems with U.S. Christianity
I think Borg, Crossan, and Bultmann give theologial underpinning and theological blessing to the particular agenda embraced by the leadership of the ELCA. These scholars provide a methodology of allowing Scripture to be read with suspicion so that scripture must prove itself. When one approaches scripture in such a fashion, one can easily say, "Well, sure, that's what the Bible says on the surface, but what does it "really" mean?"
With this methodology, one can easily and purposely alter scripture to fit one's personal or social agenda. Certain texts and passages can be disregarded at one's leisure and can be changed to fit the particular historical/social context. In effect, we can change Jesus/we can change the teachings of the Bible instead of Jesus and the teachings of the Bible changing us. Well, that's not entirely true because OUR reading of the Bible has made us pretty comfortable, but it is everyone else who doesn't read the Bible like us who needs to change.
This is a major problem because it leads us straight to idolatry. We construct our own God. We construct our own Jesus. We construct our own faith. We are not held accountable by a faith that is outside of ourselves--it is others who have to change, not us. God has blessed us and our doings, but not those others who disagree with us.
I want to take a small tangent here because one might get the idea that it is only liberal Christianity that I am critiquing. One would be wrong. The Christian right is just as guilty as the Christian left of participating in such matters. While they might deny it vehemently, it is not that difficult to see they too construct their own personal Jesuses. Case in point: I have never met a conservative Christian who says that they take the Bible literally actually take Luke 14:33 literally. ("So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.")
It has become clear to me that in the U.S. in this postmodern age, we live in an age of idolatry. We construct our own personal Jesus based upon our own ideology and actions. We then seek out congregations and denominations and scholars which embrace our portrait of Jesus or paint one very similar to our own. We justify such actions with bad theology which begins with the assumption that the source and norm of our faith--the Bible--be held in skepticism instead of trust.
And voices which call us back to the historic/orthodox faith are all but drowned out and muted. They are not controversial enough. They don't generate headlines. They make us uncomfortable because they do not allow us to be complacent. They call us to transformation, and we are content to be like we are feeling we have no need to change ourselves or our worldviews.
What is the answer? I think I've managed to get some clarity on part of the problem, but it is not enough to simply articulate the problem. Solutions are also demanded. A critic comes down off the mountain after the battle is done and shoots the wounded. A doctor heals them.
What does the orthodox faith teach us? What does the Great Physician say? More to come...
Monday, June 17, 2013
Christ Didn't Die for Nothing
Years ago, after I had attended a year or so of college, I returned home for vacation. I went to my home congregation, and the pastor was on vacation. I remember walking into the pastor’s confirmation class and talking to the students there. I remember very vividly talking to one of the kids. He was pretty bright in the sense that he didn’t just accept any answer to certain questions. He was what one might call a critical thinker.
I don’t know if it was because I didn’t seem imposing or whether or not I wasn’t a hyper-critical threat, but this young man opened up with both barrels. The question he asked was explosive. It went something like this, “I don’t mean to be offensive or anything, but why did Jesus have to die like He did? I mean, I understand God saving the world and everything, but why did He have to pick such a lame way to do it?”
Tough, tough question to answer for a 13 year old. Tough, tough question for a 20 year old college student to answer. Tough, tough question for a pastor to answer in an understandable manner for that confirmation student and for a congregation in the midst of a 15 minute sermon. The answers are there, of course, but how does one convey such thoughts in a clear, concise manner that can be understood? I say this since volumes of thought have been put down in books and papers throughout the centuries since Christ suffered and died on that cross to reconcile the world unto God. Why was Jesus’ death necessary? Why did He have to die in the manner He did? And how do we respond to it?
St. Paul has condensed this down into a short paragraph in the book of Galatians as he deals with a congregation that is trying to impose the Jewish law on anyone and everyone who seeks to become a Christian. This congregation believed that if one became a follower of Jesus Christ, then that person had to adhere strictly to all of the Law lest they would be eternally damned–this included circumcision. As you can imagine, gentlemen, this was not a selling point for many men who were seeking to become Christian. I don’t know about you, but if someone told me, “Well, you are becoming a Christian. If you are not circumcised, then you have to have this done now.” I’d be like, “Um, I’m not so sure about this anymore.” But that was just the tip of the ice berg. Circumcision was just one part of the Law. There were those in Galatia who believed that the entirety of the law must be adhered to in order for one to become Christian and attain salvation.
Paul resoundingly says, “No!” Why? Why would Paul say this? Why would Paul say that adhering strictly to the Jewish law to become Christian and attain salvation is wrong?
Let’s begin with an analogy that Timothy Keller uses in his book The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism. Let’s say that you have worked diligently to install a wonderful gated entrance to your home. You’ve spent a lot of time and money putting things together, but then someone runs into it with their car doing a couple of thousand dollars in damage. What happens next?
Well, someone has to pay for the damage. If the person who was driving is forced to pay for the damage, this is called restitution. Whether legally or voluntarily, this person pays for the damages he or she caused by his or her actions. This is the right and just thing to do.
Now, let’s say that God created the heavens and the earth. He put humankind on the earth, and He endowed all of creation with free will so that creation could live in a true relationship with its creator. Now, let’s say that humankind and creation rebelled against its creator and broke that relationship. Who is going to fix it? Who is going to pay to have it fixed? Well, in the broken gate scenario, it is right and just for the one who broke it to fix it, is it not? So, how do we as humankind and creation fix what we broke? Is it possible for us to fix this relationship when in fact we discover that we are broken ourselves? And what if the price to fix this relationship hinges on our absolute perfection? Can we fix something this broken? The fact of the matter is, we don’t have the ability, capability, or finances to fix what was broken by humankind’s and creation’s rebellion.
Which brings us to the next phase of the scenario in the broken gate. The landowner/homeowner can forgive the damage and fix it himself. Of course, this will cost the landowner. He or she will have to dig into his or her own pocketbook and pay the price. This is called forgiveness. Notice that there is a cost. You can’t just let the gate lie in disrepair.
And so, when it comes to the broken nature of the relationship between humankind and God, who chooses to fix things? Well, God Himself does knowing that there is no possible way for us to fix it ourselves. And the price is high. I mean, think about the broken nature of creation. This isn’t just a little do it yourself project. The damage is great, and the cost is astronomical. Therefore, God had to die to repair it. God had to take on human flesh, face betrayal, evil, injustice, suffering, and finally death to pay the price for creation’s failure. Thus, the crucifixion.
Ah, but there is also resurrection. This is the promised first fruits of the new creation–a creation where God, humankind, and the world God created will be renewed and all the evil will be unmade. The price is paid. The reconstruction is underway to be brought about fully and completely in God’s time. This is the grace of God which Paul talks about in the snippet from Galatians chapter 2. This is why Jesus had to die in the manner He did. He paid the price.
Which leads us to the question: what next? What is our role now that Christ has paid the price? Where do we go from here?
Let’s pick apart this final statement from St. Paul, “19For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ; 20and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. 21I do not nullify the grace of God; for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing.”
This is dense stuff. Really dense in its application and implication. Do I pursue the works of the law believing that I must accomplish it to receive salvation? Do I say, “I’d better not lie, cheat, steal or else I will go to hell.”? Do I say, “I’d better worship regularly, give to church and charity, feed the hungry, work for justice, and do all sorts of good things or else I might find myself in a fiery ordeal.”? Do I say, “There are certain things that I have to do and other things that I can’t do so that I get into heaven.”? No. If it is by your actions or inactions that you believe you go to heaven or hell, then Christ died for nothing. If you think your actions or inactions have anything to do with where you end up eternally, then Christ died for nothing. For then everything depends upon you and what you do–not what Christ did.
And Christ did not die for nothing. His actions are responsible for our salvation. Period!
But that does not mean we do not adhere to those things I spoke about earlier? Again, no. For as a believer in Christ, I live to and for God. I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me and who now lives in me. And if I live to and for God, I must ask myself, “How does my life reflect this reality? How does my life show that I live to God and for God? How does my life reflect that I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me?”
Do I lie, cheat, steal, commit injustice, gossip, live in self-righteousness looking down my nose at others? Does this convey the nature of Christ? Do I walk around telling everyone how sorry they are and how they are sinful in the eyes of God and how they need to repent? Does this convey the nature of Christ? Do I act as though I have everything figured out with all knowledge and power? Do I come across as though I know all there is to know and have achieved perfection? Does this convey the nature of Christ? Or, do I seek to be like Christ–humbling myself in perfect obedience to God, pouring myself out in service to God and to others showing compassion, forgiveness, and an uncompromising faith in the power and goodness of God? Christ did not die for nothing. Let your life show this convincingly. Amen.
I don’t know if it was because I didn’t seem imposing or whether or not I wasn’t a hyper-critical threat, but this young man opened up with both barrels. The question he asked was explosive. It went something like this, “I don’t mean to be offensive or anything, but why did Jesus have to die like He did? I mean, I understand God saving the world and everything, but why did He have to pick such a lame way to do it?”
Tough, tough question to answer for a 13 year old. Tough, tough question for a 20 year old college student to answer. Tough, tough question for a pastor to answer in an understandable manner for that confirmation student and for a congregation in the midst of a 15 minute sermon. The answers are there, of course, but how does one convey such thoughts in a clear, concise manner that can be understood? I say this since volumes of thought have been put down in books and papers throughout the centuries since Christ suffered and died on that cross to reconcile the world unto God. Why was Jesus’ death necessary? Why did He have to die in the manner He did? And how do we respond to it?
St. Paul has condensed this down into a short paragraph in the book of Galatians as he deals with a congregation that is trying to impose the Jewish law on anyone and everyone who seeks to become a Christian. This congregation believed that if one became a follower of Jesus Christ, then that person had to adhere strictly to all of the Law lest they would be eternally damned–this included circumcision. As you can imagine, gentlemen, this was not a selling point for many men who were seeking to become Christian. I don’t know about you, but if someone told me, “Well, you are becoming a Christian. If you are not circumcised, then you have to have this done now.” I’d be like, “Um, I’m not so sure about this anymore.” But that was just the tip of the ice berg. Circumcision was just one part of the Law. There were those in Galatia who believed that the entirety of the law must be adhered to in order for one to become Christian and attain salvation.
Paul resoundingly says, “No!” Why? Why would Paul say this? Why would Paul say that adhering strictly to the Jewish law to become Christian and attain salvation is wrong?
Let’s begin with an analogy that Timothy Keller uses in his book The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism. Let’s say that you have worked diligently to install a wonderful gated entrance to your home. You’ve spent a lot of time and money putting things together, but then someone runs into it with their car doing a couple of thousand dollars in damage. What happens next?
Well, someone has to pay for the damage. If the person who was driving is forced to pay for the damage, this is called restitution. Whether legally or voluntarily, this person pays for the damages he or she caused by his or her actions. This is the right and just thing to do.
Now, let’s say that God created the heavens and the earth. He put humankind on the earth, and He endowed all of creation with free will so that creation could live in a true relationship with its creator. Now, let’s say that humankind and creation rebelled against its creator and broke that relationship. Who is going to fix it? Who is going to pay to have it fixed? Well, in the broken gate scenario, it is right and just for the one who broke it to fix it, is it not? So, how do we as humankind and creation fix what we broke? Is it possible for us to fix this relationship when in fact we discover that we are broken ourselves? And what if the price to fix this relationship hinges on our absolute perfection? Can we fix something this broken? The fact of the matter is, we don’t have the ability, capability, or finances to fix what was broken by humankind’s and creation’s rebellion.
Which brings us to the next phase of the scenario in the broken gate. The landowner/homeowner can forgive the damage and fix it himself. Of course, this will cost the landowner. He or she will have to dig into his or her own pocketbook and pay the price. This is called forgiveness. Notice that there is a cost. You can’t just let the gate lie in disrepair.
And so, when it comes to the broken nature of the relationship between humankind and God, who chooses to fix things? Well, God Himself does knowing that there is no possible way for us to fix it ourselves. And the price is high. I mean, think about the broken nature of creation. This isn’t just a little do it yourself project. The damage is great, and the cost is astronomical. Therefore, God had to die to repair it. God had to take on human flesh, face betrayal, evil, injustice, suffering, and finally death to pay the price for creation’s failure. Thus, the crucifixion.
Ah, but there is also resurrection. This is the promised first fruits of the new creation–a creation where God, humankind, and the world God created will be renewed and all the evil will be unmade. The price is paid. The reconstruction is underway to be brought about fully and completely in God’s time. This is the grace of God which Paul talks about in the snippet from Galatians chapter 2. This is why Jesus had to die in the manner He did. He paid the price.
Which leads us to the question: what next? What is our role now that Christ has paid the price? Where do we go from here?
Let’s pick apart this final statement from St. Paul, “19For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ; 20and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. 21I do not nullify the grace of God; for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing.”
This is dense stuff. Really dense in its application and implication. Do I pursue the works of the law believing that I must accomplish it to receive salvation? Do I say, “I’d better not lie, cheat, steal or else I will go to hell.”? Do I say, “I’d better worship regularly, give to church and charity, feed the hungry, work for justice, and do all sorts of good things or else I might find myself in a fiery ordeal.”? Do I say, “There are certain things that I have to do and other things that I can’t do so that I get into heaven.”? No. If it is by your actions or inactions that you believe you go to heaven or hell, then Christ died for nothing. If you think your actions or inactions have anything to do with where you end up eternally, then Christ died for nothing. For then everything depends upon you and what you do–not what Christ did.
And Christ did not die for nothing. His actions are responsible for our salvation. Period!
But that does not mean we do not adhere to those things I spoke about earlier? Again, no. For as a believer in Christ, I live to and for God. I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me and who now lives in me. And if I live to and for God, I must ask myself, “How does my life reflect this reality? How does my life show that I live to God and for God? How does my life reflect that I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me?”
Do I lie, cheat, steal, commit injustice, gossip, live in self-righteousness looking down my nose at others? Does this convey the nature of Christ? Do I walk around telling everyone how sorry they are and how they are sinful in the eyes of God and how they need to repent? Does this convey the nature of Christ? Do I act as though I have everything figured out with all knowledge and power? Do I come across as though I know all there is to know and have achieved perfection? Does this convey the nature of Christ? Or, do I seek to be like Christ–humbling myself in perfect obedience to God, pouring myself out in service to God and to others showing compassion, forgiveness, and an uncompromising faith in the power and goodness of God? Christ did not die for nothing. Let your life show this convincingly. Amen.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Why I Will Not Unplug
Thanks to Edward Snowden and the Guardian (British newspaper), those of us in the U.S. have now been informed that tons of internet (email, Facebook, Google, etc.) data is being collected by the U.S. government. We also know that Verizon Wireless customers have had their metadata collected by the U.S. government. It's a pretty safe bet other phone companies are being required to hand over their metadata as well--even though we don't have those news stories at this point.
I remember reading 1984. Anyone else having flashbacks?
But here is the thing for me: I refuse to unplug. I refuse to watch what I say. I refuse to code my language or cease and desist from saying certain things on this blog or on my Facebook account. I refuse to get rid of my cell phone. Was there a desire to do so? Yep.
Unplug.
Get away!
Don't let them look at you.
Now, I like my privacy. Don't get me wrong. I'm not exactly thrilled with the knowledge that someone is monitoring every word I type or put out there. I'm not exactly thrilled that there are those who might try to use what I say as fodder for coming after me in one fashion or another.
But if I give into those fears, then I've truly lost my freedom.
If I give into those fears, then my voice gets lost because of a perceived or real threat.
If I give into those fears, then I have to run into a field to hide and find just a little bit of escape. (Remember that from the book?)
I refuse to do that.
There were those in early Judea who tried to silence Christians. Thankfully, the early disciples and followers refused to keep silent. What would the world look like if they had kept their mouths' shut?
There were those in the Roman Empire who tried to silence Christians. They even went so far as to kill and feed Christians to wild animals in arenas. What would have happened if such tactics would have silenced those Christians?
Where would the Church be if those souls had ceased speaking about Christ and His death and resurrection? What if they would have succumbed to the pressures of government and the authorities? History would be vastly different, that is for sure.
In many ways, we as Christians shouldn't have to worry about such matters. St. Paul instructed us in Romans 13:
Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive its approval; 4for it is God’s servant for your good. But if you do what is wrong, you should be afraid, for the authority does not bear the sword in vain! It is the servant of God to execute wrath on the wrongdoer. 5Therefore one must be subject, not only because of wrath but also because of conscience. 6For the same reason you also pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, busy with this very thing. 7Pay to all what is due to them—taxes to whom taxes are due, revenue to whom revenue is due, respect to whom respect is due, honor to whom honor is due.
This is not rocket science.
Of course, we are to remember who the ultimate authority is:
But Peter and the apostles answered, ‘We must obey God rather than any human authority. --Acts 5:29
So, if we are commanded to do something against the will of God, we are to disregard any rules which would force us to do this; otherwise, we are to go about our business--doing good; proclaiming Christ; being responsible; working to make the world a better place.
The world includes the internet and the technology of cell phones these days. I don't believe in running away from this. I believe in being courageous--and not living in fear.
I remember reading 1984. Anyone else having flashbacks?
But here is the thing for me: I refuse to unplug. I refuse to watch what I say. I refuse to code my language or cease and desist from saying certain things on this blog or on my Facebook account. I refuse to get rid of my cell phone. Was there a desire to do so? Yep.
Unplug.
Get away!
Don't let them look at you.
Now, I like my privacy. Don't get me wrong. I'm not exactly thrilled with the knowledge that someone is monitoring every word I type or put out there. I'm not exactly thrilled that there are those who might try to use what I say as fodder for coming after me in one fashion or another.
But if I give into those fears, then I've truly lost my freedom.
If I give into those fears, then my voice gets lost because of a perceived or real threat.
If I give into those fears, then I have to run into a field to hide and find just a little bit of escape. (Remember that from the book?)
I refuse to do that.
There were those in early Judea who tried to silence Christians. Thankfully, the early disciples and followers refused to keep silent. What would the world look like if they had kept their mouths' shut?
There were those in the Roman Empire who tried to silence Christians. They even went so far as to kill and feed Christians to wild animals in arenas. What would have happened if such tactics would have silenced those Christians?
Where would the Church be if those souls had ceased speaking about Christ and His death and resurrection? What if they would have succumbed to the pressures of government and the authorities? History would be vastly different, that is for sure.
In many ways, we as Christians shouldn't have to worry about such matters. St. Paul instructed us in Romans 13:
Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive its approval; 4for it is God’s servant for your good. But if you do what is wrong, you should be afraid, for the authority does not bear the sword in vain! It is the servant of God to execute wrath on the wrongdoer. 5Therefore one must be subject, not only because of wrath but also because of conscience. 6For the same reason you also pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, busy with this very thing. 7Pay to all what is due to them—taxes to whom taxes are due, revenue to whom revenue is due, respect to whom respect is due, honor to whom honor is due.
This is not rocket science.
Of course, we are to remember who the ultimate authority is:
But Peter and the apostles answered, ‘We must obey God rather than any human authority. --Acts 5:29
So, if we are commanded to do something against the will of God, we are to disregard any rules which would force us to do this; otherwise, we are to go about our business--doing good; proclaiming Christ; being responsible; working to make the world a better place.
The world includes the internet and the technology of cell phones these days. I don't believe in running away from this. I believe in being courageous--and not living in fear.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
The Trouble with Food
This past month, I received my copy of The Lutheran magazine--it's the official magazine of the ELCA. The cover story read "The Trouble with Food." (The link is an abbreviated article.)
Pertinent quotes:
The trouble is that the food in our grocery stores has “background.” It has been grown, harvested or slaughtered, processed, packed, shipped, distributed, stocked and shelved by the time we place it in our carts.
And at each step along the way, questions arise about the ethics of our eating. Questions that might complicate our customary ways of relating to food. Questions that also have theological dimensions, but ones most of us haven’t been asking since our food systems have become more technological, globalized and profit-driven.
A Lutheran ethics of food starts with the recognition that we are all part of systems that we create and support--either directly or indirectly--and ends with a hopeful account of what it means to be free in service to others and to creation. A Lutheran food ethics should include room to think and work toward the improvement of our systems, and to develop awareness of the background of our choices. Ethics is always messy, and it almost always involves tradeoffs.
So does God's grace extend to Minnesotans who eat strawberries in January? Of course it does. Does this mean there are not problems with this picture? No, it does not.
Food is a necessity. There are no two ways about it. We have to eat. It is a requirement. This is not in dispute.
And it is not in dispute that in the U.S. most of us do indeed have choices in regards to the food which we purchase--including the fact that we can choose to purchase relatively fresh fruit when it is out of season in our areas as we have the ability to preserve and ship it around the globe.
There are some who decry that the use of preservatives and pesticides and herbicides are killing us, but those notions are actually destroyed by the data: just take a look at the life expectancy in the early 1900's versus now at the beginning of the 21st century. Our increasing health is due, in no small part to our ability to provide relatively inexpensive, healthy food year round. This is perhaps one of those tradeoffs that Sam Thomas should have put in his article.
But the article is less concerned with facts and more concerned to get people to think ethically about the food choices they make. As Thomas says, "Ethics are messy." Indeed they are. For Thomas gives little consideration to the reality most people face when it comes to food choices today.
Not everyone has the ability or space to grow their own food--even if it is a little.
Not everyone (in fact, quite a few folks) do not have the luxury of shopping at farmer's markets or for organic foods which are much more pricy.
When shopping for my family of five, we hit the specials at the local chain grocery store. We have to. Otherwise, our food costs would be out the roof. To keep the kids eating healthier, I buy all kinds of fruits and vegetables--fresh and frozen--when they are out of season. I do this as a parent knowing my kids need those nutrients to develop into strong, healthy adults. Tradeoffs.
Do I know about the ethics of food production? Sure. I grew up with a very close connection to my family farm. I know quite a bit about the injustices of farming. (Try beginning with the fact that farmers are the only folks who are told what they will be offered for their crops--and when they rebel against the system and try to sell crops themselves, they are usually investigated!)
But the question is: should our conscience be bothered by such things?
Thomas is astute when he says that we are a part of systems that we create and support either directly or indirectly. But what Thomas does not lift up is the fact that such systems mirror our own human nature: they are both saintly and sinful. They produce both good and bad, and there will be no escape from this reality this side of eternity.
It doesn't matter what you try to do, you will commit injustice--with food or otherwise.
Should your conscience be burdened by such a thing?
The Lutheran response is, "No." When we go to God and ask for forgiveness, we can rest assured our sins are forgiven: those we know of and those we don't know of. We know we are a part of a sinful world and that we cannot be perfect in all we say and do. We know there are systems we participate in which we cannot escape and are dependent upon which are not perfect and cannot be perfected. We would like things to be different, but we know that no matter how much effort we put forth, we will not eradicate sin. We strive to do so within our sphere of influence, but are we to allow ourselves to be burdened by things which are completely and totally out of our control?
Does the budget strapped family need to worry about where their food comes from?
Does the worker at the food pantry need to feel guilt about accepting donations from a corporate food chain?
Does the person eating strawberries in January in Minnesota need to worry about whether it is ethical or not to do so?
In a word: no. The church has no business burdening people's consciences with such matters.
Pertinent quotes:
The trouble is that the food in our grocery stores has “background.” It has been grown, harvested or slaughtered, processed, packed, shipped, distributed, stocked and shelved by the time we place it in our carts.
And at each step along the way, questions arise about the ethics of our eating. Questions that might complicate our customary ways of relating to food. Questions that also have theological dimensions, but ones most of us haven’t been asking since our food systems have become more technological, globalized and profit-driven.
A Lutheran ethics of food starts with the recognition that we are all part of systems that we create and support--either directly or indirectly--and ends with a hopeful account of what it means to be free in service to others and to creation. A Lutheran food ethics should include room to think and work toward the improvement of our systems, and to develop awareness of the background of our choices. Ethics is always messy, and it almost always involves tradeoffs.
So does God's grace extend to Minnesotans who eat strawberries in January? Of course it does. Does this mean there are not problems with this picture? No, it does not.
Food is a necessity. There are no two ways about it. We have to eat. It is a requirement. This is not in dispute.
And it is not in dispute that in the U.S. most of us do indeed have choices in regards to the food which we purchase--including the fact that we can choose to purchase relatively fresh fruit when it is out of season in our areas as we have the ability to preserve and ship it around the globe.
There are some who decry that the use of preservatives and pesticides and herbicides are killing us, but those notions are actually destroyed by the data: just take a look at the life expectancy in the early 1900's versus now at the beginning of the 21st century. Our increasing health is due, in no small part to our ability to provide relatively inexpensive, healthy food year round. This is perhaps one of those tradeoffs that Sam Thomas should have put in his article.
But the article is less concerned with facts and more concerned to get people to think ethically about the food choices they make. As Thomas says, "Ethics are messy." Indeed they are. For Thomas gives little consideration to the reality most people face when it comes to food choices today.
Not everyone has the ability or space to grow their own food--even if it is a little.
Not everyone (in fact, quite a few folks) do not have the luxury of shopping at farmer's markets or for organic foods which are much more pricy.
When shopping for my family of five, we hit the specials at the local chain grocery store. We have to. Otherwise, our food costs would be out the roof. To keep the kids eating healthier, I buy all kinds of fruits and vegetables--fresh and frozen--when they are out of season. I do this as a parent knowing my kids need those nutrients to develop into strong, healthy adults. Tradeoffs.
Do I know about the ethics of food production? Sure. I grew up with a very close connection to my family farm. I know quite a bit about the injustices of farming. (Try beginning with the fact that farmers are the only folks who are told what they will be offered for their crops--and when they rebel against the system and try to sell crops themselves, they are usually investigated!)
But the question is: should our conscience be bothered by such things?
Thomas is astute when he says that we are a part of systems that we create and support either directly or indirectly. But what Thomas does not lift up is the fact that such systems mirror our own human nature: they are both saintly and sinful. They produce both good and bad, and there will be no escape from this reality this side of eternity.
It doesn't matter what you try to do, you will commit injustice--with food or otherwise.
Should your conscience be burdened by such a thing?
The Lutheran response is, "No." When we go to God and ask for forgiveness, we can rest assured our sins are forgiven: those we know of and those we don't know of. We know we are a part of a sinful world and that we cannot be perfect in all we say and do. We know there are systems we participate in which we cannot escape and are dependent upon which are not perfect and cannot be perfected. We would like things to be different, but we know that no matter how much effort we put forth, we will not eradicate sin. We strive to do so within our sphere of influence, but are we to allow ourselves to be burdened by things which are completely and totally out of our control?
Does the budget strapped family need to worry about where their food comes from?
Does the worker at the food pantry need to feel guilt about accepting donations from a corporate food chain?
Does the person eating strawberries in January in Minnesota need to worry about whether it is ethical or not to do so?
In a word: no. The church has no business burdening people's consciences with such matters.
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