As many of you know, I have taken the year off from school. Upon graduation last May, I was married and stayed in the Bourbonnais area. My wife is a children's pastor at College Church. During this year, I have been substitute teaching and serving at a local restaurant. While I am not sure why I would want to give up substitute teaching, we have made a decision to relocate. I have been offered a scholarship to attend Vanderbilt Divinity School. We will move to Nashville, TN sometime over the summer. We don't have jobs, money to pay for school, or a place to stay. But we're going anyway. And we're excited.
Moving on...I hope to get better at this blog posting. I have been in a real slump lately. I finished all my books that I got for Christmas and don't have the funds to buy more (this is another way of saying that I don't think my wife will let me). So, I'm re-reading my bookshelf. Hopefully, this will manifest itself into some noteworthy blog posts. We'll see what happens.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Over the Rhine
The other night I went to a friend’s house to hang out. We were roommates in college and now we are both in a state of transition: taking a year off before going back to pursue Masters work in Theology. My wife was gone for the evening so I didn’t need to worry about time (not that it mattered, I was still home by 12). We cooked up some beef steaks, cooked some fresh garden corn, and made some biscuits. It was a fabulous meal. As we sat there eating, we turned on some music and began discussing some of our favorites.
Marcus has seen Over the Rhine in concert 4 different times. I have yet to see them live, and to be honest, I just started listening to them two months ago. I still only own the two disc album ‘Ohio,’ and I absolutely love it. Marcus turned on this album through the stereo system while we ate. If you haven’t listened to Over the Rhine you should stop now and go listen to this miracle of music. They have a grace that transcends most bands of their raw honesty. The beauty of their melodic harmonies and deep soulful cries is only exceeded by the splendor of their poetry. The tension between their music and lyrics catches me off guard in a wonderfully splendid way.
Marcus and I sat their enjoying a good home cooked meal while listening to this band. We started talking about their lyrics, our favorite lines from numerous songs. A few are listed below.
From “Jesus in New Orleans”
Suggested by: Me
“But when I least expect it
Here and there I see my Saviors face
He’s still my favorite loser
Falling for the entire human race”
Same Song
Suggested by Marcus
“Ain’t it crazy
How we put to death the ones we need the most”
From “Changes Come”
Suggested by Marcus and I
“This ol’ world’s too f***** up
For any firstborn son
There is all this untouched beauty
The light the dark both running through me
Is there still redemption for anyone
Jesus come
Turn the world around”
Marcus and I both agreed that this is probably the most appropriate usage of the f-word we have ever heard. The sheer lyrical brilliance brings into tension the world as it is against the world as it is meant to be. This song reminds me that the word for conversion actually means a ‘slow turn.’ It is a new direction, a new way of life, a new way of living within the Kingdom of God. Changes come, ‘it ain’t all over babe, in fact it’s just begun.’ Or, as Jesus continues to say, “The Kingdom of God is here.”
Marcus has seen Over the Rhine in concert 4 different times. I have yet to see them live, and to be honest, I just started listening to them two months ago. I still only own the two disc album ‘Ohio,’ and I absolutely love it. Marcus turned on this album through the stereo system while we ate. If you haven’t listened to Over the Rhine you should stop now and go listen to this miracle of music. They have a grace that transcends most bands of their raw honesty. The beauty of their melodic harmonies and deep soulful cries is only exceeded by the splendor of their poetry. The tension between their music and lyrics catches me off guard in a wonderfully splendid way.
Marcus and I sat their enjoying a good home cooked meal while listening to this band. We started talking about their lyrics, our favorite lines from numerous songs. A few are listed below.
From “Jesus in New Orleans”
Suggested by: Me
“But when I least expect it
Here and there I see my Saviors face
He’s still my favorite loser
Falling for the entire human race”
Same Song
Suggested by Marcus
“Ain’t it crazy
How we put to death the ones we need the most”
From “Changes Come”
Suggested by Marcus and I
“This ol’ world’s too f***** up
For any firstborn son
There is all this untouched beauty
The light the dark both running through me
Is there still redemption for anyone
Jesus come
Turn the world around”
Marcus and I both agreed that this is probably the most appropriate usage of the f-word we have ever heard. The sheer lyrical brilliance brings into tension the world as it is against the world as it is meant to be. This song reminds me that the word for conversion actually means a ‘slow turn.’ It is a new direction, a new way of life, a new way of living within the Kingdom of God. Changes come, ‘it ain’t all over babe, in fact it’s just begun.’ Or, as Jesus continues to say, “The Kingdom of God is here.”
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Children and the Moral Life
My wife is a Children’s Pastor at College Church of the Nazarene. She loves her job and the children whom she is teaching. While she both loves and likes children, I have a hard time liking them. This is not to say that I don’t see a deep and important need for raising them within the Christian narrative, but it does render itself to relatively repeated occurrences of annoyance. No matter how cute they are, they still run, scream, bite, hit, cry, and smell. So I go to church every Sunday morning with a smile on my face as I work with these children. (It's really not bad. I wrote most of that in jest).
I could probably go into a lengthy discourse of how we as people learn to be moral. That is to say, we understand our sin only in relation to God’s creation. We act and think that this world is not God’s, that it is our world, and that our decisions are inherently our own simply because we made the ‘choice.’ Christianity teaches us that this is our fundamental sin, and that learning to see the world as it truly is, that we are fallen creatures, is instrumental in any transformative process. Yet, I will not bore you in the development of Christian ethics and the narrative is possesses. Instead, I will tell you a story.
This past Sunday I was leading a small group of fourth graders. We had just discussed the parable of the merciful King. If you are unfamiliar with this story is goes as follows: There once was a King, a powerful King. One day, this King decided that he was going to collect the debt that his servants owed him. He called in his servant who owed him a lot of money and demanded he pay it back. The servant could not pay it back. Knowing full well that he would be thrown in jail, he begged to King for mercy for himself and his family. And the King gave it to him. He dismissed all his debts. The servant, on his way home, saw a man who owed him a small chunk of change and demanded he pay it back. But the man could not. The servant then had him thrown in jail until he could repay his debt. The powerful King heard of this unmerciful act and called his servant forward saying, “Did I not show you mercy and forgive all your debt? Why then could you not show this man the same mercy?” He then had him thrown in jail. (Matthew 18).
During the small group, we began to talk about what it means to show mercy, love, and forgiveness. I asked these children what they would do in certain situations. How would you respond if your brother ripped off the legs to your favorite Barbie? What if your best friend accidentally shrunk your sweater in the dryer? What if your sister spilled kool-aid on your bedspread? What if you were kicked in the shin? The answers I received astonished me. I expected the pat Sunday school answers. We had just talked about showing mercy, and yet the children were honest (I love that about them). They responded, I would do the same back to them: I would kick them back, I would spill kool-aid on their bed, I would destroy my brother’s GI Joe figures. It was in this 4th grade discussion group that I realized an important parallel between children and adults. We as adults act like children.
Let me explain. What would happen if we taught our children a pattern of living that truly was merciful and forgiving? What if they could learn at a young age that retaliation is not the way of Christ? What if the narrative of God’s Kingdom come could be manifest in such a way that their reaction to being kicked is not to kick back but to offer friendship? I wonder if the Kingdom could be seen at a young age in this manner if it would translate to a particular social life. Instead of shooting back, we bring to light the destruction of violence. Instead of falling into a pattern of thinking violence can be redemptive, we recognize what it truly is: a myth of redemptive violence. Instead of suing our brothers and sisters, we could seek reconciliation instead of their money. The list could continue. We as people do a pretty poor job of practicing mercy and forgiveness, both individually and socially. Perhaps, it is because we have learned in the past few hundred years that our life is our own, and so is the world.
I could probably go into a lengthy discourse of how we as people learn to be moral. That is to say, we understand our sin only in relation to God’s creation. We act and think that this world is not God’s, that it is our world, and that our decisions are inherently our own simply because we made the ‘choice.’ Christianity teaches us that this is our fundamental sin, and that learning to see the world as it truly is, that we are fallen creatures, is instrumental in any transformative process. Yet, I will not bore you in the development of Christian ethics and the narrative is possesses. Instead, I will tell you a story.
This past Sunday I was leading a small group of fourth graders. We had just discussed the parable of the merciful King. If you are unfamiliar with this story is goes as follows: There once was a King, a powerful King. One day, this King decided that he was going to collect the debt that his servants owed him. He called in his servant who owed him a lot of money and demanded he pay it back. The servant could not pay it back. Knowing full well that he would be thrown in jail, he begged to King for mercy for himself and his family. And the King gave it to him. He dismissed all his debts. The servant, on his way home, saw a man who owed him a small chunk of change and demanded he pay it back. But the man could not. The servant then had him thrown in jail until he could repay his debt. The powerful King heard of this unmerciful act and called his servant forward saying, “Did I not show you mercy and forgive all your debt? Why then could you not show this man the same mercy?” He then had him thrown in jail. (Matthew 18).
During the small group, we began to talk about what it means to show mercy, love, and forgiveness. I asked these children what they would do in certain situations. How would you respond if your brother ripped off the legs to your favorite Barbie? What if your best friend accidentally shrunk your sweater in the dryer? What if your sister spilled kool-aid on your bedspread? What if you were kicked in the shin? The answers I received astonished me. I expected the pat Sunday school answers. We had just talked about showing mercy, and yet the children were honest (I love that about them). They responded, I would do the same back to them: I would kick them back, I would spill kool-aid on their bed, I would destroy my brother’s GI Joe figures. It was in this 4th grade discussion group that I realized an important parallel between children and adults. We as adults act like children.
Let me explain. What would happen if we taught our children a pattern of living that truly was merciful and forgiving? What if they could learn at a young age that retaliation is not the way of Christ? What if the narrative of God’s Kingdom come could be manifest in such a way that their reaction to being kicked is not to kick back but to offer friendship? I wonder if the Kingdom could be seen at a young age in this manner if it would translate to a particular social life. Instead of shooting back, we bring to light the destruction of violence. Instead of falling into a pattern of thinking violence can be redemptive, we recognize what it truly is: a myth of redemptive violence. Instead of suing our brothers and sisters, we could seek reconciliation instead of their money. The list could continue. We as people do a pretty poor job of practicing mercy and forgiveness, both individually and socially. Perhaps, it is because we have learned in the past few hundred years that our life is our own, and so is the world.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Honoring MLK
In 1989, there were 13 non-violent revolutions in 13 different countries. All but one was successful. In the 1950’s and 60’s, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. led such a revolution. His words and actions challenged the social systems of his day. He was jailed, beaten, and killed in response to a revolution of values against the “giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism.” His words continue to challenge us today.
Many of us recognize partially the contribution King has played in our nation’s history and in the social movement that began to combat the evil of racism. He became one of the earliest Freedom Riders in Birmingham, organized non-violent protests aimed at overcoming the dominant powers, and worked endlessly throughout the courts and from the pulpit to express the way of Jesus as the “more excellent way of love and nonviolent protest.”
He was at the forefront of the desegregation laws in Birmingham, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and 1968, and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 (which came as a result of the Selma to Montgomery March). He did this constantly under a barrage of threats on his life and criticisms from the white churches that he characterized as the “archdefender of the status quo.” He longed for the days that had been characterized by the early church: “a thermostat that transformed the mores of society.” Yet, he loved the church, for there is no disappointment without great love. King recognized the Church as “a colony of Heaven, called to obey God rather than man.”
One can hardly fully appreciate the role MLK played in the moral growth of our nation. But I also believe we have consigned him to a domesticated historical icon rather than a true revolutionary figure. Our political leaders call on his name but only as political talking points. They forget that as much as King combated the evils of racism he saw the economic and political system driving blacks into a state of poverty. Now, we recognize that it is not limited to blacks but to also Latinos, Asians, and Arabs. King recognized the increasing immoral disparity between the rich and poor and commented: “we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a ‘thing-oriented’ society to a ‘person-oriented’ society.” When profit, property, and machines become more important than people, “the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.”
In this month alone, the United States government will have spent 9 billion dollars on the war in Iraq. In the time of Martin Luther King, another controversial war was being played. In response to the war in Vietnam, King prophesied, “A nation that continues, year after year, to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death." There is an estimated 42% of every dollar being spent on the war or its effects. Comparatively, this is enough money to cover universal health care, universal education, and affordable housing.
On April 4 we will once again remember the legacy of Martin Luther King, a man who died too early. May we do more than just remember. May we honor him by using the same methods of non-violent resistance in the face of the dominant powers. May we recognize, as King recognized, that Christianity “is a calling that takes [us] beyond national allegiances” and that “we still have a choice today; non-violent coexistence or violent co-annihilation.”
Many of us recognize partially the contribution King has played in our nation’s history and in the social movement that began to combat the evil of racism. He became one of the earliest Freedom Riders in Birmingham, organized non-violent protests aimed at overcoming the dominant powers, and worked endlessly throughout the courts and from the pulpit to express the way of Jesus as the “more excellent way of love and nonviolent protest.”
He was at the forefront of the desegregation laws in Birmingham, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and 1968, and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 (which came as a result of the Selma to Montgomery March). He did this constantly under a barrage of threats on his life and criticisms from the white churches that he characterized as the “archdefender of the status quo.” He longed for the days that had been characterized by the early church: “a thermostat that transformed the mores of society.” Yet, he loved the church, for there is no disappointment without great love. King recognized the Church as “a colony of Heaven, called to obey God rather than man.”
One can hardly fully appreciate the role MLK played in the moral growth of our nation. But I also believe we have consigned him to a domesticated historical icon rather than a true revolutionary figure. Our political leaders call on his name but only as political talking points. They forget that as much as King combated the evils of racism he saw the economic and political system driving blacks into a state of poverty. Now, we recognize that it is not limited to blacks but to also Latinos, Asians, and Arabs. King recognized the increasing immoral disparity between the rich and poor and commented: “we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a ‘thing-oriented’ society to a ‘person-oriented’ society.” When profit, property, and machines become more important than people, “the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.”
In this month alone, the United States government will have spent 9 billion dollars on the war in Iraq. In the time of Martin Luther King, another controversial war was being played. In response to the war in Vietnam, King prophesied, “A nation that continues, year after year, to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death." There is an estimated 42% of every dollar being spent on the war or its effects. Comparatively, this is enough money to cover universal health care, universal education, and affordable housing.
On April 4 we will once again remember the legacy of Martin Luther King, a man who died too early. May we do more than just remember. May we honor him by using the same methods of non-violent resistance in the face of the dominant powers. May we recognize, as King recognized, that Christianity “is a calling that takes [us] beyond national allegiances” and that “we still have a choice today; non-violent coexistence or violent co-annihilation.”
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Colorado
This past weekend I was able to fly to Colorado with a good friend of mine, Jon Christensen. We spent two days skiing at Winter Park and then a day at Vail. Skiing is quite possibly my favorite thing to do. It is best when it is paired with reading and a loving wife, but still fantastic on its own. I am an average skier. I do the blacks and double blacks. I can do some 180's and some minor 5-10 foot drop offs, but I am still working on my technique. I have some issues with keeping my weight centered. I thought I would mention my flaws before I went into how amazing Vail was.
I have never seen anything like it. The night before skiing Vail, it snowed, and snowed, and then snowed some more. The day we were on the mountain it continued to snow. Visibility was limited, but it didn't matter. We had first tracks down one of the Back Bowls at Vail. It was knee deep powder. I will never forget that first run. We dipped into the untouched clouds of paradise. It was smooth, deep, and pure. Across the mountain, you could here screams of delight: men and women finding the joy of the heavens. By the end of the run, we couldn't even finish our sentences. "Oh My....Did you see...I cannot believe...That was amazing!"
Really, the best way to describe that first run was with a smile. And each of us had one.
Monday, December 24, 2007
The Stepping Block Christmas
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.
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.
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
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