Have you ever felt that Christmas is just a stepping block to Easter? The only reason we celebrate Christ’s birth is because Christ also died and one cannot die unless one is born. So we celebrate his birth. It almost seems somewhat tedious. The church spends four weeks preparing for his coming only so we can celebrate his death and resurrection. Most churches recognize the Advent season as a preparation for his coming (Advent actually means “coming”) and prepare sermons and worship accordingly. Yet, in all of our talk about Christ’s birth it is only a prelude to Easter, or even his 2nd coming. It’s almost as if Jesus became man in order to come again because it is only in his second coming that judgment and perfection occur. (I realize I am making broad sweeping claims. I also realize there are many churches who truly approach advent reverently and honestly).
I’ve been thinking a lot about the significance of Christmas this year. I’ve been looking at it more from a soteriological aspect than anything else. What does Christmas mean in the grand scheme of salvation? I think it goes deeper than just being born in order to get to the cross and ultimately to be raised to life. I think we venerate the cross and resurrection while leaving the incarnation behind. Or, as some would say, we place the point of the incarnation on the cross or at the point of the resurrection rather than in the baby Jesus. Thus Christmas is just a stepping block.
I think the incarnation plays a more important role in theology and in our lives than we Protestants would like to admit. St. Gregory the Theologian once wrote, “the unassumed is unhealed.” Man could not have been healed unless God had taken on man’s nature. God took on our humanity as an act of restoration, an act of deliverance, and ultimately an act of love. In other words, man cannot get to God so God comes to man. The ultimate goal of salvation is found in the incarnation. The birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus must be viewed as a whole with the same purpose of bringing man to bear the divine image. The Son of God became man in order to make man sons of God.
While I certainly assert that one cannot understand the birth of Jesus without wrestling with his death, I also assert that one cannot understand his death without first wrestling with his birth. I often think that most of our Protestant “salvation” messages leave out the incarnation. We spend so much time on a conversion “moment” of forgiveness that we dulled the message of salvation to the sole purpose of forgiveness of sin. While forgiveness is important, we leave out the incarnational message of Christ. Mainly, salvation is about wholeness and renewed life, not just about the heaven beyond life. Or, if I may be so bold, it is all about heaven. It is about heaven meeting earth, it is about the eternal touching the temporal, it is about the divine life assuming human suffering. “Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.”
The incarnation puts into words the hope of our salvation: that we may be like Christ. The incarnation recognizes that peace is an alternate lifestyle. Christmas is a time to recognize that Christ’s birth is God identifying himself with man: the sinful, hurting, painful, suffering of humanity. This identity with man shows us not what is a distant potential but a coming, and already come, reality. We Christians live in this expectation, leaning into the future of love and peace as faithful witnesses to the Kingdom that Christ's birth brings. When we see replicas of baby Jesus in his manger full of hay, may we this year remember that the God-man does not merely offer us “a way around suffering, but a way through it; not substitution, but saving companionship” (Bishop Kallistos Ware of the Orthodox Church). I wonder if our salvation is found more in our relationship to the incarnational Christ (and to others) rather than some substitutional atonement. Perhaps salvation is found in the incarnation and resurrecting power of God while the cross actually becomes the way in which we are to live.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
A Response to the Colorado Shootings
“The church is God’s new will and purpose for humanity. God’s will is always directed toward the concrete, historical human being. But this means that it begins to be implemented in history. God’s will must become visible and comprehensible at some point in history.” – Dietrich Bonhoeffer
The other day a former YWAM (Youth with a Mission) participant was denied a place to stay in an Arvada YWAM office. He was denied. He killed two young adults during that confrontation. Later, the gunman killed two teenagers at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. He would have killed more if he hadn’t been shot himself by a security guard at the church who carries a gun (did I mention this was at a church?). She is being praised as a hero who did not falter when needing to kill one of God’s children saying, “God was with me.”
I am deeply saddened by the loss of life. The five deceased (including the gunman) were my age or younger. Such horrendous action surely is not the will of God. I grieve for their families and pray that God shows mercy and compassion. But I also grieve for the church. I am deeply perplexed that at the place where we practice the liturgy, the place where we learn what it is to be Christian, and the place where we recognize Jesus’ self-sacrifice against the dominant powers of this world (and our call to do the same) we are carrying the same weapons of the world. Not only that, but we are proclaiming the presence of God in such action. What happened to Jesus’ words of living and dying by the sword (or in this case a gun)? Jesus’ words to Peter were a lesson against the myth of redemptive violence. I am reminded of Shane Claiborne’s words when he writes, “When it comes to the world’s logic of redemptive violence, Christians have a major stumbling block on their hands- namely, the cross.”
This is hard to imagine. We are conditioned to think that one death (especially the death of a murderer) is better than having 100 others dead. But what if God doesn’t think the same way we do. We serve a God who is always creating, always imaginative, and as a result we are created also to always re-imagine. Perhaps Walter Wink is correct in saying that “violence is for those who have lost their imagination.” The first 300 years of Christianity were an intense time for a small band of Jesus followers. They would die by the packs. Their witness was a testimony of love in the face of evil, suffering as Christ suffered.
The question of our day, the context that we are in and have been in, revolves not around some post-9/11 worldview but rather, how do we live in the light of the teachings, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. For sure, a truthful witness would have to deconstruct our views of war and poverty, violence and peace. So while America celebrates a hero, I wonder how faithful we are truly being to the peaceable Kingdom. I don’t have the answers. I do pray that we can begin to talk about what it means to walk like Jesus, to his death. Or, it might even be as easy as offering our hospitality, a place to stay for the night.
“Only by concentrating on Christ as its true and final end will the church give up its struggle to bring about the end prematurely and instead gladly give itself over to the long, patient labor of becoming a sacrament of Christ’s peaceable presence.” – Hauerwas
The other day a former YWAM (Youth with a Mission) participant was denied a place to stay in an Arvada YWAM office. He was denied. He killed two young adults during that confrontation. Later, the gunman killed two teenagers at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. He would have killed more if he hadn’t been shot himself by a security guard at the church who carries a gun (did I mention this was at a church?). She is being praised as a hero who did not falter when needing to kill one of God’s children saying, “God was with me.”
I am deeply saddened by the loss of life. The five deceased (including the gunman) were my age or younger. Such horrendous action surely is not the will of God. I grieve for their families and pray that God shows mercy and compassion. But I also grieve for the church. I am deeply perplexed that at the place where we practice the liturgy, the place where we learn what it is to be Christian, and the place where we recognize Jesus’ self-sacrifice against the dominant powers of this world (and our call to do the same) we are carrying the same weapons of the world. Not only that, but we are proclaiming the presence of God in such action. What happened to Jesus’ words of living and dying by the sword (or in this case a gun)? Jesus’ words to Peter were a lesson against the myth of redemptive violence. I am reminded of Shane Claiborne’s words when he writes, “When it comes to the world’s logic of redemptive violence, Christians have a major stumbling block on their hands- namely, the cross.”
This is hard to imagine. We are conditioned to think that one death (especially the death of a murderer) is better than having 100 others dead. But what if God doesn’t think the same way we do. We serve a God who is always creating, always imaginative, and as a result we are created also to always re-imagine. Perhaps Walter Wink is correct in saying that “violence is for those who have lost their imagination.” The first 300 years of Christianity were an intense time for a small band of Jesus followers. They would die by the packs. Their witness was a testimony of love in the face of evil, suffering as Christ suffered.
The question of our day, the context that we are in and have been in, revolves not around some post-9/11 worldview but rather, how do we live in the light of the teachings, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. For sure, a truthful witness would have to deconstruct our views of war and poverty, violence and peace. So while America celebrates a hero, I wonder how faithful we are truly being to the peaceable Kingdom. I don’t have the answers. I do pray that we can begin to talk about what it means to walk like Jesus, to his death. Or, it might even be as easy as offering our hospitality, a place to stay for the night.
“Only by concentrating on Christ as its true and final end will the church give up its struggle to bring about the end prematurely and instead gladly give itself over to the long, patient labor of becoming a sacrament of Christ’s peaceable presence.” – Hauerwas
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Visiting Chicago Theological Seminary
Yesterday, Marcus, Joy, and I traveled to Chicago to visit Chicago Theological Seminary. We had meetings with the admissions office, financial aide, and were able to attend chapel and a class. We wanted to gain an understanding of what the seminary was all about. I’m looking at an M.Div., and Marcus was exploring the MA program.
There was a point during the chapel service to express joys and prayer requests. A blonde woman, probably in her upper 50’s, spoke up. “It’s been a hard 10 days.” Her sister was having some heart problems. Her heart rate was over 200 beats per minute. The doctors were saying they needed to shock her to stop it and start it again in the hopes that the irregularity would stop. This blonde woman explained to her sister, “They have done this sort of thing to Dick Cheney, and he came out alive. You will too. The only difference is that you have a bigger heart than Cheney.” Everyone in the chapel started to laugh. The undeniable jab at Cheney for his lack of compassion was obvious. As it turns out, this blonde woman happened to be Susan Brown Thistlethwaite, the President of CTS. Later that day we were able to meet and share a little bit of time at lunch with her. She was genuine in her remarks when she explained that CTS was a place not to just talk good rhetoric about justice and mercy, but it is truly a place where justice is manifested for the common good.
This rhetoric is what attracted me to CTS in the first place. Their devotion to justice and mercy and their boast of inter-faith relations intrigued me. After the admissions portion of the visit, I think we were all feeling good about the seminary. It is located in Hyde Park. It had just snowed the night before and continued to snow heavily throughout the day. It truly was beautiful. But as the day progressed, so did our impression of CTS. After spending some time with the students and taking the tour, we were all glad we came to visit. Obviously our time there was limited to get a full idea of what CTS is, how the community interacts, and the relationship between theology and ministry. However, though we are comfortable and even welcome more liberal ideas and people, there was an essence of being liberal for liberal’s sake. One phrase that stuck out to me was said during that first session, “We are not doctrinally bound. We teach you how to think, not what to think.” And yet, when I look at the course listings, the Biblical literature or exegesis classes had a certain agenda (it usually revolved around gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, religious affiliation, and nationalism). The classes were built around the issues rather than focusing on the story and its practical interpretation (both for the people to whom it was original told/written and for us now). This is a very limited outlook. Obviously I have not taken these classes. I have only read the course description. However, it seemed like they were overemphasizing social spirituality and justice at the expense of the personal.
I long to study at a place that holds both the personal and the social, the individual and the corporate, and both justice and mercy as equally deserving and not mutually exclusive. I should here back from Duke any day.
There was a point during the chapel service to express joys and prayer requests. A blonde woman, probably in her upper 50’s, spoke up. “It’s been a hard 10 days.” Her sister was having some heart problems. Her heart rate was over 200 beats per minute. The doctors were saying they needed to shock her to stop it and start it again in the hopes that the irregularity would stop. This blonde woman explained to her sister, “They have done this sort of thing to Dick Cheney, and he came out alive. You will too. The only difference is that you have a bigger heart than Cheney.” Everyone in the chapel started to laugh. The undeniable jab at Cheney for his lack of compassion was obvious. As it turns out, this blonde woman happened to be Susan Brown Thistlethwaite, the President of CTS. Later that day we were able to meet and share a little bit of time at lunch with her. She was genuine in her remarks when she explained that CTS was a place not to just talk good rhetoric about justice and mercy, but it is truly a place where justice is manifested for the common good.
This rhetoric is what attracted me to CTS in the first place. Their devotion to justice and mercy and their boast of inter-faith relations intrigued me. After the admissions portion of the visit, I think we were all feeling good about the seminary. It is located in Hyde Park. It had just snowed the night before and continued to snow heavily throughout the day. It truly was beautiful. But as the day progressed, so did our impression of CTS. After spending some time with the students and taking the tour, we were all glad we came to visit. Obviously our time there was limited to get a full idea of what CTS is, how the community interacts, and the relationship between theology and ministry. However, though we are comfortable and even welcome more liberal ideas and people, there was an essence of being liberal for liberal’s sake. One phrase that stuck out to me was said during that first session, “We are not doctrinally bound. We teach you how to think, not what to think.” And yet, when I look at the course listings, the Biblical literature or exegesis classes had a certain agenda (it usually revolved around gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, religious affiliation, and nationalism). The classes were built around the issues rather than focusing on the story and its practical interpretation (both for the people to whom it was original told/written and for us now). This is a very limited outlook. Obviously I have not taken these classes. I have only read the course description. However, it seemed like they were overemphasizing social spirituality and justice at the expense of the personal.
I long to study at a place that holds both the personal and the social, the individual and the corporate, and both justice and mercy as equally deserving and not mutually exclusive. I should here back from Duke any day.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thoughts on "Performing the Faith: Bonhoeffer and the Practice of Nonviolence"
“There can only be a community of peace when it does not rest on lies and injustice.”
-Bonhoeffer, “No Rusty Swords”
I’m reading a book entitled “Performing the Faith: Bonhoeffer and the Practice of Non-violence” by Hauerwas. I’m only through the first two chapters, which happen to be the only chapters solely dedicated to Bonhoeffer, but I am really enjoying it. Since I have no one with whom to discuss, I choose to write. I want to say that Bonhoeffer’s life was intriguing even without his theology, but one cannot seem to separate the way he lived from his theology. It is also clear that his theology was unfinished and from my limited knowledge, misunderstood. His disdain for institutional religion has been viewed as some as the beginning of the “Death of God” movement. Hauerwas asserts that this would cause Bonhoeffer great agony, but I digress: on to the book.
Hauerwas asserts that Bonhoeffer was devoted to “the visibility of the church amid the ruins of Christendom.” This visibility could only be established by the proclamation and living of the truth. In other words, the “community of peace” cannot rest on “lies and injustice.” The community of peace I am equating to the visible church and the lies parallels living in truthfulness.
It is interesting to see Bonhoeffer’s take on the American church. Not only does he condemn the “Protestant fugitives” who fled Europe to worship God in peace, thus foregoing suffering, but critiques the American church in saying that “they do not see the radical claim of truth on the shaping of their lives. Community is therefore founded less on truth than on the spirit of ‘fairness.’” One can wonder whether this derives from the political nature of democracy (which is built on compromise), but that is a different discussion. Hauerwas characterizes it this way, “Fairness, not truth, becomes the primary commitment necessary to sustain community for Americans.”
As it would go, our idea of peace is based upon a sort of tolerance, a “subordination of truth and justice” where peace is seen as the absence of conflict rather than the reality of the gospel. A peace brought by war is only an illusory peace, a peace that is brought by injustice. Can there be war without a form of injustice? The visible church expresses that the gospel is “not an answer to questions produced by human anxiety, but a proclamation of a ‘fact.’” Bonhoeffer brings together the reality of truth-living with the visible community of peace.
But is he clear as to what that ‘truth’ is? Some argue no, some say he promoted a type of situational ethic (brought to fruition through his plot to assassinate Hitler), and still others (others being Hauerwas in this book) say that Bonhoeffer did not see the significance of giving a ‘theory of truth’ but rather realizing that being truthful is something learned. Whatever Bonhoeffer meant, we know that our living truthfully had everything to do with our life in connection with God’s, our ability to express truth vitalized through the expression of reality, as it is in God. And one cannot grasp reality without the truthful witness of Jesus Christ. As it turned out, Bonhoeffer saw the terrible lie that was Hitler as starting with the inability of the church to speak truth effectively even in the little things. It begs the question of whether our churches are adequately speaking/living truth even in the little things. Hauerwas continues that “Bonhoeffer believed that the church is the sign that God has placed in the windows of the world to make possible a truthful politics.” Is the church now truly a visible witness or have we consigned ourselves to the storefronts of abandoned warehouses?
-Bonhoeffer, “No Rusty Swords”
I’m reading a book entitled “Performing the Faith: Bonhoeffer and the Practice of Non-violence” by Hauerwas. I’m only through the first two chapters, which happen to be the only chapters solely dedicated to Bonhoeffer, but I am really enjoying it. Since I have no one with whom to discuss, I choose to write. I want to say that Bonhoeffer’s life was intriguing even without his theology, but one cannot seem to separate the way he lived from his theology. It is also clear that his theology was unfinished and from my limited knowledge, misunderstood. His disdain for institutional religion has been viewed as some as the beginning of the “Death of God” movement. Hauerwas asserts that this would cause Bonhoeffer great agony, but I digress: on to the book.
Hauerwas asserts that Bonhoeffer was devoted to “the visibility of the church amid the ruins of Christendom.” This visibility could only be established by the proclamation and living of the truth. In other words, the “community of peace” cannot rest on “lies and injustice.” The community of peace I am equating to the visible church and the lies parallels living in truthfulness.
It is interesting to see Bonhoeffer’s take on the American church. Not only does he condemn the “Protestant fugitives” who fled Europe to worship God in peace, thus foregoing suffering, but critiques the American church in saying that “they do not see the radical claim of truth on the shaping of their lives. Community is therefore founded less on truth than on the spirit of ‘fairness.’” One can wonder whether this derives from the political nature of democracy (which is built on compromise), but that is a different discussion. Hauerwas characterizes it this way, “Fairness, not truth, becomes the primary commitment necessary to sustain community for Americans.”
As it would go, our idea of peace is based upon a sort of tolerance, a “subordination of truth and justice” where peace is seen as the absence of conflict rather than the reality of the gospel. A peace brought by war is only an illusory peace, a peace that is brought by injustice. Can there be war without a form of injustice? The visible church expresses that the gospel is “not an answer to questions produced by human anxiety, but a proclamation of a ‘fact.’” Bonhoeffer brings together the reality of truth-living with the visible community of peace.
But is he clear as to what that ‘truth’ is? Some argue no, some say he promoted a type of situational ethic (brought to fruition through his plot to assassinate Hitler), and still others (others being Hauerwas in this book) say that Bonhoeffer did not see the significance of giving a ‘theory of truth’ but rather realizing that being truthful is something learned. Whatever Bonhoeffer meant, we know that our living truthfully had everything to do with our life in connection with God’s, our ability to express truth vitalized through the expression of reality, as it is in God. And one cannot grasp reality without the truthful witness of Jesus Christ. As it turned out, Bonhoeffer saw the terrible lie that was Hitler as starting with the inability of the church to speak truth effectively even in the little things. It begs the question of whether our churches are adequately speaking/living truth even in the little things. Hauerwas continues that “Bonhoeffer believed that the church is the sign that God has placed in the windows of the world to make possible a truthful politics.” Is the church now truly a visible witness or have we consigned ourselves to the storefronts of abandoned warehouses?
Friday, November 16, 2007
Democrat Primary Debate
I started to get interested in the upcoming Presidential Election last Jan/Feb. when Barack Obama made an intent to run and started a huge grass roots campaign while not taking any money from special interest groups. I remember thinking last June that Clinton was unelectable. It has little to do with her being a woman than it does her being stuck in the democrat political machine. I enjoyed listening to John Edwards and his comments on the poor but his $400 haircut kind of turned me off to him. Three weeks ago a debate was held in Philadelphia. Clinton had a poor outing. It appeared that she was staged, gave pat answers, and proved to give inconsistent answers on certain issues. She started to drop in the polls and Obama seemed to be on a surge.
Another debate was held last night. I was very interested in it, so I went to a friends house and watched it with about 8 others. To be honest, it was a lackluster performance from the top three candidates. Clinton seems to have come ahead only because she didn't stumble. Obama and Edwards didn't seem to make up any ground because they didn't stand out. However, I think a few things are worth mentioning.
There was a question last night involving human rights and national security. The question asked, "Would you place our national security above human rights." Sen. Dodd and Sen. Clinton said similar things. The job of the President is to ensure the security of our own. We are to do this while upholding the Constitution. Later analysts said that Clinton was looking toward the general election against the Republicans so they couldn't use her response against her. (The Republicans seem to be big on national security above any rights of anyone). I thought Obama's answer was intriguing though. He didn't give a yes or no answer. This, in a debate, sometimes comes across as a weakness but I hope people were listening. He said he doesn't think that national security and human rights are necessarily incompatible. One doesn't need be to placed above the other. This logic seems to make sense to me. Right now the Bush administration has polarized America with his war agenda. Not only are we in an unjust war in Iraq, but there has been talk of military conflict with Iran as well (this would be a grave mistake). However, while we are killing in the middle-east we are neglecting other countries like the Sudan and Burma where vasts amounts of people are now left homeless, injured, orphaned, or dead (not to neglect the other 2 Billion people living on less than $2 a day). The world has seen our ugly foreign policy and our trampling of human rights in the middle-east and places like Guantanamo. Obama, I think, rightly associates the building and support of human rights not only because it is the right thing to do, but because as a result it will in turn make us more secure. If people aren't dying, if they have enough to eat, or even enough to live, they are less likely to harbor bitterness. Even more, America is even the cause of that bitterness in several instances. Jim Wallis writes in "God's Politics" that "the developed World will never be secure until the developing world also achieves some economic security." I think there is some truth found in that statement.
It is my hope that this kind of Politics becomes more evident. I hope that Obama's words are heard for what they are (Bill Richardson said something similar). I still think Clinton is unelectable. She may be ahead in the Democratic primaries but recent polls show that the vast majority of independents and republicans would not vote for her. On the other side, Obama holds the votes of more independents and even some moderate Republicans than any other candidate. Just words to think about.
Another debate was held last night. I was very interested in it, so I went to a friends house and watched it with about 8 others. To be honest, it was a lackluster performance from the top three candidates. Clinton seems to have come ahead only because she didn't stumble. Obama and Edwards didn't seem to make up any ground because they didn't stand out. However, I think a few things are worth mentioning.
There was a question last night involving human rights and national security. The question asked, "Would you place our national security above human rights." Sen. Dodd and Sen. Clinton said similar things. The job of the President is to ensure the security of our own. We are to do this while upholding the Constitution. Later analysts said that Clinton was looking toward the general election against the Republicans so they couldn't use her response against her. (The Republicans seem to be big on national security above any rights of anyone). I thought Obama's answer was intriguing though. He didn't give a yes or no answer. This, in a debate, sometimes comes across as a weakness but I hope people were listening. He said he doesn't think that national security and human rights are necessarily incompatible. One doesn't need be to placed above the other. This logic seems to make sense to me. Right now the Bush administration has polarized America with his war agenda. Not only are we in an unjust war in Iraq, but there has been talk of military conflict with Iran as well (this would be a grave mistake). However, while we are killing in the middle-east we are neglecting other countries like the Sudan and Burma where vasts amounts of people are now left homeless, injured, orphaned, or dead (not to neglect the other 2 Billion people living on less than $2 a day). The world has seen our ugly foreign policy and our trampling of human rights in the middle-east and places like Guantanamo. Obama, I think, rightly associates the building and support of human rights not only because it is the right thing to do, but because as a result it will in turn make us more secure. If people aren't dying, if they have enough to eat, or even enough to live, they are less likely to harbor bitterness. Even more, America is even the cause of that bitterness in several instances. Jim Wallis writes in "God's Politics" that "the developed World will never be secure until the developing world also achieves some economic security." I think there is some truth found in that statement.
It is my hope that this kind of Politics becomes more evident. I hope that Obama's words are heard for what they are (Bill Richardson said something similar). I still think Clinton is unelectable. She may be ahead in the Democratic primaries but recent polls show that the vast majority of independents and republicans would not vote for her. On the other side, Obama holds the votes of more independents and even some moderate Republicans than any other candidate. Just words to think about.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Football and the Church
I read an article yesterday on Adrian Peterson. He's a running back for the Minnesota Vikings. He's actually having a tremendous season. Just last week he ran for an NFL record for most yards in a single game (296). He's on pace to break the single season rushing record set by Eric Dickerson in the 80's. There are already talks of him being the best running back in the NFL at this moment, which is quite an accomplishment for being in the same league as Ladanian Tomlinson. Oh yeah, Adrian Peterson is a rookie. This is his first year in the NFL. The article was about Peterson's vision. What does he see to make him break the tackles that he does? Many have remarked that Peterson's vision is much like the great Walter Payton's. He doesn't see the tacklers, he only sees the goal line. In other words, he doesn't focus on making mistakes so much as he focuses on the purpose.
I wonder if this isn't anything like the church. I am a part of a Monday night group that meets together for a meal. We're all younger married couples that bring a meal, share our time and lives, and we read and discuss the Bible or another book. We're working on a book by a guy named Kinlaw. He once was the President of Asbury. I am not a big fan of the premise of the book, "How every person can have the Mind of Christ." It sounds too much like one of those "if you follow this book then you too can be holy" kind of things. (7 Steps to your Best Life Now). The second chapter talks about the difference between doing right and being righteous. I found it odd that the criteria for doing right was abstaining from alcohol, drugs, sexual promiscuity, smoking, and the like. In other words, doing right is not doing wrong. It sounds to me like we try so hard on avoiding sin that we miss the joy of Christ. It kind of makes me think that perhaps "doing right" is not in the things that we need to avoid but in the things that we as a church don't seem to actually do.
Matthew 25 gives a clear picture of what God desires. This chapter talks about the final judgment in terms of what we did or did not do for the Kingdom of God. It is very clear that Kingdom is more concerned about loving the sick, the dying, the poor, the outcast, the prisoner, and the single mothers than it is about the dangers of social drinking. I hope that we can start focusing on these purposes, and the joy that comes from being part of the Kingdom, rather than constantly getting bogged down by avoiding sin. It seems like a healthier way to live.
I wonder if this isn't anything like the church. I am a part of a Monday night group that meets together for a meal. We're all younger married couples that bring a meal, share our time and lives, and we read and discuss the Bible or another book. We're working on a book by a guy named Kinlaw. He once was the President of Asbury. I am not a big fan of the premise of the book, "How every person can have the Mind of Christ." It sounds too much like one of those "if you follow this book then you too can be holy" kind of things. (7 Steps to your Best Life Now). The second chapter talks about the difference between doing right and being righteous. I found it odd that the criteria for doing right was abstaining from alcohol, drugs, sexual promiscuity, smoking, and the like. In other words, doing right is not doing wrong. It sounds to me like we try so hard on avoiding sin that we miss the joy of Christ. It kind of makes me think that perhaps "doing right" is not in the things that we need to avoid but in the things that we as a church don't seem to actually do.
Matthew 25 gives a clear picture of what God desires. This chapter talks about the final judgment in terms of what we did or did not do for the Kingdom of God. It is very clear that Kingdom is more concerned about loving the sick, the dying, the poor, the outcast, the prisoner, and the single mothers than it is about the dangers of social drinking. I hope that we can start focusing on these purposes, and the joy that comes from being part of the Kingdom, rather than constantly getting bogged down by avoiding sin. It seems like a healthier way to live.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
David Crowder
It's been a while since I have posted last. A lot has happened. I spent a weekend in Indiana preaching at a youth retreat. I did a series on the Parable of the Compassionate Father (the Prodigal Son). I've been subsituting regularly. I am about done with my application to Duke. I visited Duke's campus a few weeks back and absolutely loved it. I should know by Christmas whether or not I have been accepted. So it's been a good few weeks.
I have the new David Crowder album. It's called "Rememdy." I have really enjoyed it, and Dave Crowder is one of the few Christian bands that impresses me with their creativity. The last song on the album I especially love. It's called "Surely we can change"; the lyrics go as follows...
Where there is pain, Let there be grace.
Where there is suffering, Bring Serenity
For those afraid, help them be brave
Where there is misery, Bring expectancy
And surely we can change, surely we can change
Something
I found myself praying these lines this morning, not only for my own life (surely I need grace and serenity), but also for those who are pained over lost families and homes. It was a prayer for peace where suffering is only known. It was for the children in Iraq, Darfur, and Burma who are alone and without a family. It is a prayer for those who know misery, that they might experience hope. And it ends with the thought that there is change, and we, as God's agents, are part of that change. May the God all comfort continue to comfort even now.
I have the new David Crowder album. It's called "Rememdy." I have really enjoyed it, and Dave Crowder is one of the few Christian bands that impresses me with their creativity. The last song on the album I especially love. It's called "Surely we can change"; the lyrics go as follows...
Where there is pain, Let there be grace.
Where there is suffering, Bring Serenity
For those afraid, help them be brave
Where there is misery, Bring expectancy
And surely we can change, surely we can change
Something
I found myself praying these lines this morning, not only for my own life (surely I need grace and serenity), but also for those who are pained over lost families and homes. It was a prayer for peace where suffering is only known. It was for the children in Iraq, Darfur, and Burma who are alone and without a family. It is a prayer for those who know misery, that they might experience hope. And it ends with the thought that there is change, and we, as God's agents, are part of that change. May the God all comfort continue to comfort even now.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Suffering
I have been struggling with the concept of suffering. How does it relate to the Christian lifestyle? How is it that I suffer, if I do suffer? Is it something physical or is it a "spiritual" suffering? (I don't like talking about the separation of physical and spiritual for fear of falling into some sort of Gnostic dualsim). How does my suffering relate to God and his suffering?
I'm not really sure where to go with this post. To be honest, I don't think that biblical suffering has much to do with a certain person that you don't get a long with or having a broken leg for 6 weeks. I am hoping that the two people who read it will comment with their thoughts. The prophets talked of a suffering Messiah, the One who must come, suffer, and die. Jesus talks about how the Son of Man must suffer to be lifted up. We are to follow Christ and his way. Are we not to assume that suffering will follow? And if it doesn't, am I truly following Christ? Phillipians talks of our imitation of Jesus, who lowered himself to be like us (which if you're God than becoming human is pretty incomprehensible). Upon lowering himself, he then went through ridicule, torture, resentment, and death. And we're to imitate that? Then there are Jesus' words spoken in John: (paraphrased) The World hates you. But it isn't a surprise because the world has hated me first. I am your master. If you truly follow me you will be persecuted as I am persecuted. You will be able to bear it though because I'm giving you a counselor. He will guide you into all truth and you will testify to the salvation and wholeness that I have brought to the world.
So, I am now living pretty comfortably. I live in a pagan nation but they don't care how I live as long as I don't frustrate their ends (which I think as Christians we sometimes need to frustrate). I haven't been thrown in jail (like Martin Luther King, Jr.) and I haven't been tortured (like the Korean missionaries taken hostage by the Taliban). How is it that I am following Jesus? Should suffering be something that we seek, or if we truly follow the way of the Master, is it something that comes? Are we willing to deal with the life of a true Christian?
God suffers. He has to suffer. We not only realize the divine suffering in Jesus but we see his anguish throughout history. Grief, sorrow, and anger are outpourings of His love. Can we truly love without suffering? Jeremiah saw God's heart and wept. Jesus wept over Jerusalem before its destruction longing for the people he loved. Grief gives way to suffering which is a result of love. Paul writes about us being heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ. If God truly suffers because of our brokenness and separation, should we not also suffer by grieving with that same compassionate heart? I would suspect that this type of suffering would work at bringing us to solidarity with the poor, downtrodden, and oppressed people of the world. When I read the gospel account of Jesus, I see his heart associated with this group of people.
These are just simple musings that I've been thinking. Hopefully they will lead to some sort of contemplation, and perhaps some action.
I'm not really sure where to go with this post. To be honest, I don't think that biblical suffering has much to do with a certain person that you don't get a long with or having a broken leg for 6 weeks. I am hoping that the two people who read it will comment with their thoughts. The prophets talked of a suffering Messiah, the One who must come, suffer, and die. Jesus talks about how the Son of Man must suffer to be lifted up. We are to follow Christ and his way. Are we not to assume that suffering will follow? And if it doesn't, am I truly following Christ? Phillipians talks of our imitation of Jesus, who lowered himself to be like us (which if you're God than becoming human is pretty incomprehensible). Upon lowering himself, he then went through ridicule, torture, resentment, and death. And we're to imitate that? Then there are Jesus' words spoken in John: (paraphrased) The World hates you. But it isn't a surprise because the world has hated me first. I am your master. If you truly follow me you will be persecuted as I am persecuted. You will be able to bear it though because I'm giving you a counselor. He will guide you into all truth and you will testify to the salvation and wholeness that I have brought to the world.
So, I am now living pretty comfortably. I live in a pagan nation but they don't care how I live as long as I don't frustrate their ends (which I think as Christians we sometimes need to frustrate). I haven't been thrown in jail (like Martin Luther King, Jr.) and I haven't been tortured (like the Korean missionaries taken hostage by the Taliban). How is it that I am following Jesus? Should suffering be something that we seek, or if we truly follow the way of the Master, is it something that comes? Are we willing to deal with the life of a true Christian?
God suffers. He has to suffer. We not only realize the divine suffering in Jesus but we see his anguish throughout history. Grief, sorrow, and anger are outpourings of His love. Can we truly love without suffering? Jeremiah saw God's heart and wept. Jesus wept over Jerusalem before its destruction longing for the people he loved. Grief gives way to suffering which is a result of love. Paul writes about us being heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ. If God truly suffers because of our brokenness and separation, should we not also suffer by grieving with that same compassionate heart? I would suspect that this type of suffering would work at bringing us to solidarity with the poor, downtrodden, and oppressed people of the world. When I read the gospel account of Jesus, I see his heart associated with this group of people.
These are just simple musings that I've been thinking. Hopefully they will lead to some sort of contemplation, and perhaps some action.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
In-School Suspension
I’m writing this while at work. I have decided to take the year off from school and save in order to afford graduate work next year and the years to follow. In the mean time, I am a substitute teacher in Bourbonnais, Bradley, and Kankakee. I’m at my second day of work. It is only the beginning of the school year, but hopefully this will turn into an every day thing.
Today is weird. I’m at the Bourbonnais Upper Grade School. The school districts are unlike anything I’ve seen before. This school is only grades 7-8. There is another school that is just grades 5-6. All of the middle grade levels in Bourbonnais and Bradley feed into one high school. I am only substituting for grades 5 and above. I did high school last week and today I am in the Upper Grade school.
This is the weirdest position imaginable. I am actually sitting in as the teacher for in-school suspension. I figured that this day would be about 15 kids that would be somewhat hard to control. There are two kids: a seventh grade boy and an eighth grade girl. The office said that this is a large group for this early in the year. Justin got in a fight with a kid who decided not to fight back. Shane is here because she decided she didn’t like her math teacher and walked out of school. A returning field trip saw her out of class and she was caught. Who just walks out? I understand that happening in high school when you are more independent and can drive, but this is eighth grade. I find this somewhat amusing. There cool kids though, and I’ve found that as long as I treat them fairly and with respect they also respect me.
Just a side note, I changed my background picture from Joy and I’s footprints on the beaches in Mexico to a wedding photo of both of us. I started smiling and Shane asked why. I showed her the picture and asked if that was my wife. I smiled and said yes. So she bluntly says, “Oh, I thought you were gay.” She continues to explain that all the in-school suspension teachers are homosexual and she assumed that I was like the others. My first reaction to such a question was a resounding no, followed by a quick thought of whether I actually appear homosexual, and finally to thinking about the audacity to say to her teacher that she thought he was gay. I don’t think I’ve ever come off as gay. I’ve been hit on by a male before, but it was in high school and it was more of a show than an actual attraction. That’s neither here nor there, but part of the happenings of the day.
So my duties today consist of monitoring. They shouldn’t talk, sleep, draw, or do anything that doesn’t relate to school. I walk them to the bathroom and give them 40 minutes for lunch. I sit here and read, write on my blog (except I don’t have the internet so I’m writing it out on a word document), and am listening to Bright Eyes. I played mancala on my computer, did a sudoku puzzle, and read a little from my ESPN magazine. Oh yeah, I’m getting paid for this.
Today is weird. I’m at the Bourbonnais Upper Grade School. The school districts are unlike anything I’ve seen before. This school is only grades 7-8. There is another school that is just grades 5-6. All of the middle grade levels in Bourbonnais and Bradley feed into one high school. I am only substituting for grades 5 and above. I did high school last week and today I am in the Upper Grade school.
This is the weirdest position imaginable. I am actually sitting in as the teacher for in-school suspension. I figured that this day would be about 15 kids that would be somewhat hard to control. There are two kids: a seventh grade boy and an eighth grade girl. The office said that this is a large group for this early in the year. Justin got in a fight with a kid who decided not to fight back. Shane is here because she decided she didn’t like her math teacher and walked out of school. A returning field trip saw her out of class and she was caught. Who just walks out? I understand that happening in high school when you are more independent and can drive, but this is eighth grade. I find this somewhat amusing. There cool kids though, and I’ve found that as long as I treat them fairly and with respect they also respect me.
Just a side note, I changed my background picture from Joy and I’s footprints on the beaches in Mexico to a wedding photo of both of us. I started smiling and Shane asked why. I showed her the picture and asked if that was my wife. I smiled and said yes. So she bluntly says, “Oh, I thought you were gay.” She continues to explain that all the in-school suspension teachers are homosexual and she assumed that I was like the others. My first reaction to such a question was a resounding no, followed by a quick thought of whether I actually appear homosexual, and finally to thinking about the audacity to say to her teacher that she thought he was gay. I don’t think I’ve ever come off as gay. I’ve been hit on by a male before, but it was in high school and it was more of a show than an actual attraction. That’s neither here nor there, but part of the happenings of the day.
So my duties today consist of monitoring. They shouldn’t talk, sleep, draw, or do anything that doesn’t relate to school. I walk them to the bathroom and give them 40 minutes for lunch. I sit here and read, write on my blog (except I don’t have the internet so I’m writing it out on a word document), and am listening to Bright Eyes. I played mancala on my computer, did a sudoku puzzle, and read a little from my ESPN magazine. Oh yeah, I’m getting paid for this.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
President's Dinner
I went to the President’s Dinner the other night. My wife is a Resident Director with the University, and as a result, we were invited to join Dr. Bowling and his wife for an intimate evening among 800 other staff and faculty members. I felt a little underdressed in my button up shirt and kahki pants. However, I didn’t care too much. I am always intrigued by these kinds of events. It was somewhat reminiscent of a homecoming. Everyone sees each other after going through a period of not seeing each other, and it’s really quite nice. The thing that gets me though is the amount of pride that Chalfant hall seemed pregnant with that evening. Which is all well and good (it was quite humorous to hear everyone bellow our boring Alma Mater). There is nothing wrong with feeling a sense of honor towards one’s university. We see it every weekend of college sports, every homecoming, and apparently at President dinners too. But something seemed a little off. Let me explain.
Olivet has a number of singing groups. One in particular is the “Olivetians.” They are the premiere group that seems hand picked as the best singers and representative “models” of the Olivet community. They are the ones sent to churches and doing PR and stuff. They don’t ever seem to sing songs that college students actually enjoy, but older Nazarenes love them. At any rate, they closed with a song about God’s holiness, exalting his name. Adoration and praise is something that we ought to give God. He is truly the only One worthy of the name Lord, and the only One who is holy. So they sing these verses and lead into the chorus singing, “So I only want to tell you I love You.” It’s got a catchy tune and the orchestral arrangement was done so that it would grip the heart of the audience (you know, the booming bass line during certain words, the key change: it was written musically to invoke passion). And I could only sit there and think to myself, “We’re only telling God I love you? Does God really want us to sit here and tell him that, or go and show him that we love him?” I remembered Jesus talking to Peter and asking Peter that question: Do you love me. And Peter says of course, and Jesus responds “Then feed my sheep.” The scripture continues with several like phrases of showing compassion as the way in which we show love. Basically, loving God is not telling God we love him; it’s loving our neighbor.
I was explaining this to my wife on a walk the other night. I happened to be talking about the contradictory statements that I had noticed in the speech that evening. It was the normal stuff that I always seem to notice. The fact that Olivet is said to be missional and a model for the disciple of Jesus while building a 22 million dollar chapel strikes me as a bit odd, especially considering Jesus’ words throughout the gospels. Joy then told me that she doesn’t think I will ever be able to commit to any institution because they are not, in my eyes, “perfect.” She continued that it was as if I had a pre-conceived notion of what things ought to be like, and if it wasn’t that, I could only sit there and criticize.
I have struggled with this concept before. I believe that the Kingdom of God is here and yet to come. It is here in the sense that Jesus has made it readily available for us to be a part of, live, breathe, and act upon. Jesus, as a proclaimer of this message, not only taught it, but fully embodied it and passed it on to his Church to proclaim and embody: to live out. This Kingdom is the reality that the church lives by: to seek justice, proclaim mercy, and walk humbly with God. Unfortunately, we also live with the tension of our humanness. Occasionally (or quite often), this nature has a way of weeding itself into the realm of Kingdom living. Sometimes it’s quite obvious (history can point to the Crusades, the Inquisition, or colonialization: which all seem to have their root in the compromise of religion with the state). However, more often than not it creeps up unbeknownst to most: selfishness, pride, indignation, resentment, poor stewardship. It’s so sneaky sometimes that we hardly even notice that certain elements (certainly not all) are masquerading as Kingdom elements.
My wife might be right to a certain extent. I do pick out and criticize the institution for their flaws. This goes for the church, university, or even small group bible studies. To her, I see the flaw instead of the diamond. And, it’s a completely legitimate concern. I guess that she sees me longing for perfection when perfection so easily evades. However, I do not think that I am so far off. I may criticize (perhaps a little too often), but my criticism is out of a love for the Church as the primary mode that God has chosen to do his work. While the University is not a church, by claiming Christianity it is inherently a part of its work, and therefore God’s Kingdom.
I was a little hurt by Joy’s comments on that walk. I wasn’t hurt necessarily by what she said, nor by her speaking her mind, but rather of the small glimpse that we still have a lot to learn of each other. I am committed to the church. I am a harsh critic, but I still long to be part of a community that together seeks and proclaims God’s Kingdom, here and to come. These were the very issues that I wrestled with when seeking ordination. I finally realized that while the church has its faults, it is still God’s church, and I am God’s.
So, now I need to practice all the stuff I talk about: justice, mercy, and humility. So I embark on that journey with millions of others who are also trying to live a different kind of life.
Olivet has a number of singing groups. One in particular is the “Olivetians.” They are the premiere group that seems hand picked as the best singers and representative “models” of the Olivet community. They are the ones sent to churches and doing PR and stuff. They don’t ever seem to sing songs that college students actually enjoy, but older Nazarenes love them. At any rate, they closed with a song about God’s holiness, exalting his name. Adoration and praise is something that we ought to give God. He is truly the only One worthy of the name Lord, and the only One who is holy. So they sing these verses and lead into the chorus singing, “So I only want to tell you I love You.” It’s got a catchy tune and the orchestral arrangement was done so that it would grip the heart of the audience (you know, the booming bass line during certain words, the key change: it was written musically to invoke passion). And I could only sit there and think to myself, “We’re only telling God I love you? Does God really want us to sit here and tell him that, or go and show him that we love him?” I remembered Jesus talking to Peter and asking Peter that question: Do you love me. And Peter says of course, and Jesus responds “Then feed my sheep.” The scripture continues with several like phrases of showing compassion as the way in which we show love. Basically, loving God is not telling God we love him; it’s loving our neighbor.
I was explaining this to my wife on a walk the other night. I happened to be talking about the contradictory statements that I had noticed in the speech that evening. It was the normal stuff that I always seem to notice. The fact that Olivet is said to be missional and a model for the disciple of Jesus while building a 22 million dollar chapel strikes me as a bit odd, especially considering Jesus’ words throughout the gospels. Joy then told me that she doesn’t think I will ever be able to commit to any institution because they are not, in my eyes, “perfect.” She continued that it was as if I had a pre-conceived notion of what things ought to be like, and if it wasn’t that, I could only sit there and criticize.
I have struggled with this concept before. I believe that the Kingdom of God is here and yet to come. It is here in the sense that Jesus has made it readily available for us to be a part of, live, breathe, and act upon. Jesus, as a proclaimer of this message, not only taught it, but fully embodied it and passed it on to his Church to proclaim and embody: to live out. This Kingdom is the reality that the church lives by: to seek justice, proclaim mercy, and walk humbly with God. Unfortunately, we also live with the tension of our humanness. Occasionally (or quite often), this nature has a way of weeding itself into the realm of Kingdom living. Sometimes it’s quite obvious (history can point to the Crusades, the Inquisition, or colonialization: which all seem to have their root in the compromise of religion with the state). However, more often than not it creeps up unbeknownst to most: selfishness, pride, indignation, resentment, poor stewardship. It’s so sneaky sometimes that we hardly even notice that certain elements (certainly not all) are masquerading as Kingdom elements.
My wife might be right to a certain extent. I do pick out and criticize the institution for their flaws. This goes for the church, university, or even small group bible studies. To her, I see the flaw instead of the diamond. And, it’s a completely legitimate concern. I guess that she sees me longing for perfection when perfection so easily evades. However, I do not think that I am so far off. I may criticize (perhaps a little too often), but my criticism is out of a love for the Church as the primary mode that God has chosen to do his work. While the University is not a church, by claiming Christianity it is inherently a part of its work, and therefore God’s Kingdom.
I was a little hurt by Joy’s comments on that walk. I wasn’t hurt necessarily by what she said, nor by her speaking her mind, but rather of the small glimpse that we still have a lot to learn of each other. I am committed to the church. I am a harsh critic, but I still long to be part of a community that together seeks and proclaims God’s Kingdom, here and to come. These were the very issues that I wrestled with when seeking ordination. I finally realized that while the church has its faults, it is still God’s church, and I am God’s.
So, now I need to practice all the stuff I talk about: justice, mercy, and humility. So I embark on that journey with millions of others who are also trying to live a different kind of life.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
A New Book
I am currently reading a book entitled Mere Discipleship. The author, Lee Camp, was a student under John Howard Yoder at Notre Dame. The book developed out of a sense of need for a “Yoderian ‘Mere Christianity.’” Basically, it is a popularized Politics of Jesus. I read Politics over Christmas and have been reading similar books and articles since. It is interesting to see an insurgency of theology based upon the Kingdom of God in relation to the social systems of culture. While I agree with most of these authors, Yoder, Camp, Hauerwas, and Rodney Clapp, I am starting to think about how this theology is actually practiced in a church. Maybe it’s because I have attended churches that have a conversion based theology (which presents itself more readily acceptable to certain Gnostic tendencies), but I have not experienced the Church that Camp and Yoder have explained. I believe it exists, but so far, with few exceptions, it seems to only exist in the mind of its adherents.
I feel as if I am being too vague. “This” is referring to a broader all encompassing purpose of God where church and even religion are not God’s goal or intended end. The church is merely a means to bringing about God’s Kingdom: the embodiment of God’s will. In actuality, the church is supposed to be the incarnation of such a will. A divine will made known by an accepting, loving, and reconciling God who breaks us of our addictions, binds us together in fellowship, and not only atones (pardons our evil) but frees us from it as well. The Kingdom is a coming and present reality of love, peace, justice, and communion. Camp explains it this way, “Church is, in other words, simply a community of disciples, gathered together to order their lives according to the will of their Lord who lives still in their midst.” The Church is God’s primary venue of bringing about his Kingdom, and if his Kingdom truly embodies peace and justice, should not the Church also proclaim peace and justice?
To think about the Kingdom as an actual social entity may be strange for some. But when we think about the way in which Jesus taught, the words he used, and the life he lived, the Kingdom cannot be taken any other way. When Jesus prayed “Your Kingdom come” he prayed for the Kingdom to become “on earth” what God intended it to be all along, what it is “in heaven.” If you think about church, we already are forming a separate society, though perverted, still unique. We have formed our own lingo (sin, atonement, Born Again, converted, saved), our own practices (Eucharist, tithing, baptism), and ultimately our own culture (though many times polarizing ourselves from everyone else). One of the problems with the modern interpretation of the gospel revolves around the individualism that pervades our culture and ultimately our churches. Consumer driven capitalism has made it easy to get what I want, when I want, and how I want it. I want to be rich, buy a big house in the suburbs, take care of my family, and live my life. And yet this pervasive narcissistic culture has had more influence on the church than the church has had on the world. I want my sins taken care of so I can go to heaven and ultimately I can be happy. Christianity has been at best a nice treatment of psychotherapy. Forget that the way of Jesus is the way of a cross. I happen to like the Americanized Jesus better: a morale booster and money promoter.
We then read the actual gospel account about a man who told the rich to sell all they have, give to the poor, and follow me on the road to the cross. Perhaps when Jesus said ‘I am the Way’ he meant that in order to be reconciled to the Father, you must follow my way of life and not just arbitrarily accept his death as permission to live how you want. In other words, Jesus’ healing of the sick, compassion for the poor, forgiveness for the adulterer, and love for our enemies is a way of life, the way of the Kingdom. A military chaplain once said that “chaplains are not on military bases to bear witness to theological convictions, but to serve the military establishment: what was desired [of military chaplains] was a morale officer.” The Kingdom of God is a social entity that beckons us to order or even change our allegiances.
What happens when the allegiance of our nation-state clashes with our Allegiance to God and his Kingdom? Sadly, we Americans have accepted the powers of this world (money, prestige, and even war) as if we were promoting the powers of God. How can we bring about God’s Kingdom by using the weapons of hell? The end becomes the only factor of our morality. Who cares how we do it, as long as peace wins in the end. A United States Senator once wrote that “God almighty in his infinite wisdom [has] dropped the atomic bomb in our lap….[W]ith vision and guts and plenty of atomic bombs,…[we] can compel mankind to adopt a policy of lasting peace…or be burned to a crisp.” Does anyone see the irony of this statement? Now we’re stuck with thousands of nuclear weapons while we try to keep other nations from developing any. It is no wonder the world hates us.
Some evangelical Christians still assume that America is actually a type of new Israel: that America will be the nation that brings about God’s purposes. I recently watched some religious programming and was quite frustrated when I heard that the first established English colony was being viewed as a divine mandate that established America as a “Christian nation.” I then look at history and see that this colony (Jamestown) was actually a royal charter colony with the sole purpose of bringing in revenue. They expected Mayan gold and were willing to pillage and destroy to get it. To their surprise, mosquito-ridden swamps replaced gold and a large agriculturally based Indian Kingdom thrived. Within 10 years the Indians had either been forced off their land or killed. Now if this is truly a divine mandate I would not want to serve that divine lord. All this to say, it is a dangerous thing to assume that God has taken sides with a certain nation-state. To wage war as the world does, one assumes that God’s way is not good enough. It simply is not a worthy social ethic. If we were to actually love our enemies we would be destroyed, so we must do things the way the world does.
This is a pretty significant rationale. Such thinking makes it very easy to fall into a type of reductionist theology: Christianity and discipleship is reduced to a strictly ‘spiritual’ state of my soul. As long as my soul is right with God that is all that matters. Christianity then would have no bearing on culture, society, or social systems. I’m forgiven and ‘heaven bound.’ The only reason I’m on this earth is to get more people into heaven with me. Forget the holistic redemption that comes with the Kingdom: the sick, homeless, poor, less fortunate, and oppressed.
So now I’m back to thinking what this would look like in an actual church. What would happen if our teaching changed to fewer ‘altar calls’ and more compassion? What if Christians started to pray and support those in war torn nations and worked toward reconciliation through peaceful agendas? What if the first thing a homosexual thought about a Christian was that he was loved? What if church actually became something that was embodied on an every day basis rather than on a Sunday morning? What if tithing was actually practice for giving to others throughout the week? Obviously this not only takes a change heart and mind, but a change in action too. It might actually cost something to be a Christian. But that would only fulfill Jesus’ calling of counting the cost before following Him. Bonhoeffer once wrote that “Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ.”
I feel as if I am being too vague. “This” is referring to a broader all encompassing purpose of God where church and even religion are not God’s goal or intended end. The church is merely a means to bringing about God’s Kingdom: the embodiment of God’s will. In actuality, the church is supposed to be the incarnation of such a will. A divine will made known by an accepting, loving, and reconciling God who breaks us of our addictions, binds us together in fellowship, and not only atones (pardons our evil) but frees us from it as well. The Kingdom is a coming and present reality of love, peace, justice, and communion. Camp explains it this way, “Church is, in other words, simply a community of disciples, gathered together to order their lives according to the will of their Lord who lives still in their midst.” The Church is God’s primary venue of bringing about his Kingdom, and if his Kingdom truly embodies peace and justice, should not the Church also proclaim peace and justice?
To think about the Kingdom as an actual social entity may be strange for some. But when we think about the way in which Jesus taught, the words he used, and the life he lived, the Kingdom cannot be taken any other way. When Jesus prayed “Your Kingdom come” he prayed for the Kingdom to become “on earth” what God intended it to be all along, what it is “in heaven.” If you think about church, we already are forming a separate society, though perverted, still unique. We have formed our own lingo (sin, atonement, Born Again, converted, saved), our own practices (Eucharist, tithing, baptism), and ultimately our own culture (though many times polarizing ourselves from everyone else). One of the problems with the modern interpretation of the gospel revolves around the individualism that pervades our culture and ultimately our churches. Consumer driven capitalism has made it easy to get what I want, when I want, and how I want it. I want to be rich, buy a big house in the suburbs, take care of my family, and live my life. And yet this pervasive narcissistic culture has had more influence on the church than the church has had on the world. I want my sins taken care of so I can go to heaven and ultimately I can be happy. Christianity has been at best a nice treatment of psychotherapy. Forget that the way of Jesus is the way of a cross. I happen to like the Americanized Jesus better: a morale booster and money promoter.
We then read the actual gospel account about a man who told the rich to sell all they have, give to the poor, and follow me on the road to the cross. Perhaps when Jesus said ‘I am the Way’ he meant that in order to be reconciled to the Father, you must follow my way of life and not just arbitrarily accept his death as permission to live how you want. In other words, Jesus’ healing of the sick, compassion for the poor, forgiveness for the adulterer, and love for our enemies is a way of life, the way of the Kingdom. A military chaplain once said that “chaplains are not on military bases to bear witness to theological convictions, but to serve the military establishment: what was desired [of military chaplains] was a morale officer.” The Kingdom of God is a social entity that beckons us to order or even change our allegiances.
What happens when the allegiance of our nation-state clashes with our Allegiance to God and his Kingdom? Sadly, we Americans have accepted the powers of this world (money, prestige, and even war) as if we were promoting the powers of God. How can we bring about God’s Kingdom by using the weapons of hell? The end becomes the only factor of our morality. Who cares how we do it, as long as peace wins in the end. A United States Senator once wrote that “God almighty in his infinite wisdom [has] dropped the atomic bomb in our lap….[W]ith vision and guts and plenty of atomic bombs,…[we] can compel mankind to adopt a policy of lasting peace…or be burned to a crisp.” Does anyone see the irony of this statement? Now we’re stuck with thousands of nuclear weapons while we try to keep other nations from developing any. It is no wonder the world hates us.
Some evangelical Christians still assume that America is actually a type of new Israel: that America will be the nation that brings about God’s purposes. I recently watched some religious programming and was quite frustrated when I heard that the first established English colony was being viewed as a divine mandate that established America as a “Christian nation.” I then look at history and see that this colony (Jamestown) was actually a royal charter colony with the sole purpose of bringing in revenue. They expected Mayan gold and were willing to pillage and destroy to get it. To their surprise, mosquito-ridden swamps replaced gold and a large agriculturally based Indian Kingdom thrived. Within 10 years the Indians had either been forced off their land or killed. Now if this is truly a divine mandate I would not want to serve that divine lord. All this to say, it is a dangerous thing to assume that God has taken sides with a certain nation-state. To wage war as the world does, one assumes that God’s way is not good enough. It simply is not a worthy social ethic. If we were to actually love our enemies we would be destroyed, so we must do things the way the world does.
This is a pretty significant rationale. Such thinking makes it very easy to fall into a type of reductionist theology: Christianity and discipleship is reduced to a strictly ‘spiritual’ state of my soul. As long as my soul is right with God that is all that matters. Christianity then would have no bearing on culture, society, or social systems. I’m forgiven and ‘heaven bound.’ The only reason I’m on this earth is to get more people into heaven with me. Forget the holistic redemption that comes with the Kingdom: the sick, homeless, poor, less fortunate, and oppressed.
So now I’m back to thinking what this would look like in an actual church. What would happen if our teaching changed to fewer ‘altar calls’ and more compassion? What if Christians started to pray and support those in war torn nations and worked toward reconciliation through peaceful agendas? What if the first thing a homosexual thought about a Christian was that he was loved? What if church actually became something that was embodied on an every day basis rather than on a Sunday morning? What if tithing was actually practice for giving to others throughout the week? Obviously this not only takes a change heart and mind, but a change in action too. It might actually cost something to be a Christian. But that would only fulfill Jesus’ calling of counting the cost before following Him. Bonhoeffer once wrote that “Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ.”
Friday, July 20, 2007
Decisions
So this entire year I have been intending on taking Master classes for the next year. I graduated in the Spring and have already taken 4 credit hours toward a Master of Arts in Religion. I have also intended to pursue a degree in Divinity after this next year. I am living in Bourbonnais because of convenience. It seemed like hell to go a year without taking classes. However, with the expensive tuition of Divinity school in the future and the luxury of not paying rent or food for the next year, Joy and I are in a great position to start saving. The M.A.R really won't do much. I like the idea of holding two master degrees, and I do have a fellowship towards it, but it doesn't cover half of what we would owe. On top of this, I have been waiting to hear back about a possible GA position with the school. I'm praying this weekend to figure out what I should do. It's a harder decision than I would like to admit. I've been in school my whole life and actually spending a year without would be almost as big of a step as getting married (which I'm LOVING). Anyway, decisions, decisions.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
God Outside the Church
I wrote this last summer when I was a waiter and working at transfer admissions. I was reading over some stuff that I had written and thought this warranted a second look. So, this is me a year ago:
I am working two jobs. The first one consists of filing, processing data applications, and organizing. It pays 6.75 an hour for 35 hours a week. My second job pays 3.90 an hour and upon leaving the first job I go to the second job to work nights. It’s not overtly exciting. It’s a pizza restaurant. We have our busy days and our off days. They don’t work around my schedule very well, and the owner’s are very rarely positive people. Weekend tips are decent but I find weekdays to almost be a waste of my time in terms of monetary gain. It’s a stressful atmosphere with a lot of tense people working behind a mask of “pleasing the customer.” To be honest, the job sucks up my time and my energy. I went a week without spending any time with my fiancée. But I thank God for this opportunity.
Last week we had a server meeting. It lasted a drudging three hours. I’m not quite sure how I stayed awake, but it probably had something to do with being terminated. (Servers were fired if they didn’t come to this meeting). At this meeting, we discussed such issues as washing your hands, how to dress, how often to shave, and teamwork. Apparently there are times where servers will fight over who gets the table. It’s not what you think. They will fight not to get the table. This brought about the manager saying that the customers are the ones who give us money. They are the ones who tip us and give us our income. We should want to serve them. The whole time I’m thinking, “Well, yeah that makes sense. Tell me something new.” But Jenny, the manager, went as far as to say that we shouldn’t see them as people or customers but should diminish them to little five and ten dollar bills running around the store waiting to be found. I understood her point, and as much as I wanted to scream out against the capitalist notion of people being worth only what they have, I stayed quiet.
You see, I applied and interviewed for this job with the intent of making money. It was what I needed and still need. However, my mindset has begun to change. In the four weeks of working at Aurelio’s, I have felt more challenged and more stretched in my spiritual walk than I have in a while. I am starting to see that I am truly a “server.” This term goes far beyond serving the customer, though I do pray they see a certain joy in the act of bringing their food and clearing dirty dishes. There is something at Aurelio’s that I have not seen in 3 years: that I have not had in 3 years. I am working with people who do not confess Christ.
Somewhere in between leaving high school and entering a Christian University, I have lost any connection I may have had with those outside “the Church.” It’s weird to think that I am in a program geared towards ministry, and yet I have not contact with those to whom I am to be ministering. How am I to assess culture and the state of living if I do not live and breathe from within that community? Surely Olivet does not reflect the norm of society. I’ve heard and seen people leave and are shell shocked when they don’t have the “protection” from the world that Olivet so willingly gives. But now I find myself once again out in the world, and I find myself accepted. Somehow, and in some way, we students at Olivet are under the impression that those non-Christians don’t want anything to do with us. They think we’re weird, fanatics, too conservative, or just plain not any fun. Is this not what we hear about in our youth groups and see in an underlying tone in chapel? Give me a break! They are people just like us with dreams, ambitions, insecurities, and a longing to be not only “loved” but actually liked. I think there may be a difference between evangelical love: which seems to lean toward “share the good news of Jesus’ death to as many people as possible in the hopes that we can scare them out of hell and into heaven.” It seems to me that that is salvation “from” something rather than salvation “into.” One is exclusive and the other is inclusive. Jesus not only loved, but cared and liked. His love and soteriology (philosophy of salvation) revolved around being inclusive.
The truth of the matter in working at Aurelio’s is that I want those I work with to come to know Christ for who He is. I can not escape Jesus’ mission of making disciples. But I think that when it comes to sharing that good news, we must first start by truly loving, caring, and serving. I am not ostracized as I thought I might be, but instead am accepted by them and they have invited me as a friend. As a result, I have begun to see how God has been working in their lives even outside of the Church. And it has been my prayer that they may also see God through me. That is why I thank God for this opportunity.
Shalom,
Eric
Friday, July 6, 2007
Spears into Pruning hooks
After sharing a blog with some other friends and not posting for a year, I decided that I would once again attempt this internet blog thing. Really, I think I am going to use this more as a personal discipline than anything else. The truth is that I have never been good at writing my thoughts but have always enjoyed the idea of writing them out. So without any further glorification, I present...
Pruning Spears:
The past year has proved to be an exciting time for me. Theologically, I have been formed more than any other time. My conservative Nazarene roots have been challenged in a way that make my parents scratch their heads, my college want to fine me, and my home district reject my application for a District Pastors license. Some say I have no bearing on reality while others say I need to mature. And I am OK with both assesments. I see a different reality than most of the world: one that notices a need of reconciliation while seeing the holistic redemption associated with the God of love. I also see a need to mature. If I were to assume that maturity has ended, I would assume completeness and would have successfully eluded both.
The Name and address of this blog is taken from a passage in Isaiah. It's from the second chapter and looks toward a new way in which God is continually creating. In this particular scripture, Isaiah recognizes the tension between the world and what God is doing in the World. He sees where God is going and points us to work within that goal. Verse 3 connotes God teaching his people to be like himself: follow the Lord "that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." Verse 4 then gives us a picture not only of God's Kingdom but what it looks like to be a part of it. "He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore."
I feel as if I have moved from an outside observer of Christian Pacifism to one who claims Jesus' way of non-violent resistance. So far it's been pretty easy. I haven't been attacked and I am not personally involved in any wars. No one has threatened my life. Honestly, it's not hard to claim pacifism when the wars are happening elsewhere. It makes me wonder about the "what if's" of raising a family (I was just married this year) or if I would be able to forgive a man on death row who has hurt one close to my heart. The fact that I have not experienced such atrocities (for this I thank God) does not warrant a change in my theological claims. I trust that making the decision now to live within a prayerful Kingdom community will guide me into truth if such things occur. Martin Luther King, Jr. helped subdue racism through non-violent resistance, Tutu helped save a nation from apartheid with limited violence, and Dorothy Day helped revive a Christian spirit within Catholicism.
I have to work at this. I am continually "pruning my spears" to subdue the evil tendencies that arise from my humanness. This blog will hopefully be more than just dissertations on my political positions. I want it to show who I am and who I am becoming. It will be filled with stories of struggle and joy as well as love and heartache. We live with these tensions and hopefully it will be fun to see where they lead.
Pruning Spears:
The past year has proved to be an exciting time for me. Theologically, I have been formed more than any other time. My conservative Nazarene roots have been challenged in a way that make my parents scratch their heads, my college want to fine me, and my home district reject my application for a District Pastors license. Some say I have no bearing on reality while others say I need to mature. And I am OK with both assesments. I see a different reality than most of the world: one that notices a need of reconciliation while seeing the holistic redemption associated with the God of love. I also see a need to mature. If I were to assume that maturity has ended, I would assume completeness and would have successfully eluded both.
The Name and address of this blog is taken from a passage in Isaiah. It's from the second chapter and looks toward a new way in which God is continually creating. In this particular scripture, Isaiah recognizes the tension between the world and what God is doing in the World. He sees where God is going and points us to work within that goal. Verse 3 connotes God teaching his people to be like himself: follow the Lord "that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." Verse 4 then gives us a picture not only of God's Kingdom but what it looks like to be a part of it. "He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore."
I feel as if I have moved from an outside observer of Christian Pacifism to one who claims Jesus' way of non-violent resistance. So far it's been pretty easy. I haven't been attacked and I am not personally involved in any wars. No one has threatened my life. Honestly, it's not hard to claim pacifism when the wars are happening elsewhere. It makes me wonder about the "what if's" of raising a family (I was just married this year) or if I would be able to forgive a man on death row who has hurt one close to my heart. The fact that I have not experienced such atrocities (for this I thank God) does not warrant a change in my theological claims. I trust that making the decision now to live within a prayerful Kingdom community will guide me into truth if such things occur. Martin Luther King, Jr. helped subdue racism through non-violent resistance, Tutu helped save a nation from apartheid with limited violence, and Dorothy Day helped revive a Christian spirit within Catholicism.
I have to work at this. I am continually "pruning my spears" to subdue the evil tendencies that arise from my humanness. This blog will hopefully be more than just dissertations on my political positions. I want it to show who I am and who I am becoming. It will be filled with stories of struggle and joy as well as love and heartache. We live with these tensions and hopefully it will be fun to see where they lead.
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