A Matter of Life or Death

One of the main reasons I write this blog is because I want to talk about Jesus to the world.  Most of my work – as teacher, pastor, preacher – is aimed at people who already know Jesus, love Jesus, and want to follow Jesus (if though, sometimes, slowly and reluctantly). 

But out there in internet land are billions of people for whom Jesus is . . . well, I don’t know what you’re all thinking about out there when you do think of Jesus.  So many, I suspect, have a rather casual acquaintance with Jesus – someone to admire, someone whose example is noteworthy – but you are not ready to make the claim that Christians do – Lord, Savior, Christ, Son of God?

I was right there with you for several years of my life.  In my early 20’s I had become a respectful agnostic.  I had grown up the son of missionaries, with a Methodist preacher father, and while I was certainly influenced by the example of Jesus, I had turned my back on all the God-talk of my parents, and cast the church aside for sure.  How could any thinking person believe all that stuff?  I had read Bertrand Russell, and convinced myself I was too sophisticated for religion.

Hah!  Looking back I shake my head at how naïve I was.  Some of history’s greatest minds were unreservedly Christian.  Why?  Not because they came rationally to a conclusion that could be proven, but because they somehow encountered the living God.  I believe that happened to me.  Not in a burning bush, or struck-by-lightning-kind-of-way, but in a growing awareness that there was an authenticity to the life of Jesus – an integrity of word and deed that was unmatched in human history – and I sensed that his presence was still with me, with us, in some indefinable way.  And more importantly, I wanted that same sense of authenticity in my own life, so I made the decision to follow Jesus.  It was not a decision based on reason, but a hunch.

I only partially understood what following Jesus meant back then.  I know better now.  To follow Jesus is not without its pain (the cross is a vivid reminder of what following Jesus means).  But to follow Jesus is also a joy that the world cannot give or take away (the resurrection can be understood as a metaphor for that joy).

Some of you out there think that Christians are only concerned about heaven and hell.  So sad that you have perceived the gospel through the words of too many radio and TV preachers who are but caricatures of the real thing.  Heaven and hell act as symbols for life and death.  The gospel invites us to live, as Jesus says, “abundantly.” (John 10:10)

I am convinced that all of us are either living or dying.  We make decisions every day that are either life-giving or life-taking.  Sometimes by the choices we make the life we are taking is someone else’s.  Sometimes the life we are taking is our own (you know who you are).

But there are those who regularly, consistently, make life-giving decisions.  You speak words that encourage and affirm.  You take actions that enhance the lives of others, sometimes at sacrifice to yourself, and yet it seems a small price to pay.  Such actions prove the paradox of Jesus’ teaching that it is in giving our lives that we find life, as St. Francis of Assisi prayed, “it is in giving that we receive.”  And once in a while there are those words and deeds are in such harmony with each other that we are all ennobled by their example --- we see LIFE in them.

This is what God seeks to give us in Jesus – life to the full.  Life without guilt (forgiveness of sins).  Life without worry (trust).  Life with purpose (sacrifice for others).  Life full of joy (blessing and abundance).

Each Sunday I preach to a congregation.  Each Sunday I believe that what I have to say matters.  Indeed, it is a matter of life and death.  We are all, each one of us, either living or dying.  Jesus came that we may have life.  Why would you NOT choose to follow him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holier than I

I just read a chapter in Brian McLaren’s book, Naked Spirituality, in which he implied that appearing “holier than thou,” was not the worst problem of hypocrisy.  The real problem is appearing “holier than I.”  In other words, when we make ourselves out to be more spiritual than we actually are we are walking down a shadowy path that will do damage to our psyche, and harm to others as well.  Of course, we do this all the time, and not just in the religious realm.

When we look down our noses on someone else’s sense of style (“so tacky”), or lack of intelligence (“so stupid”), or political opinion (“idiots!”), we are elevating ourselves above them.  And very likely, we are making ourselves “holier” – more stylish, smarter, or more astute – than we actually are.  The roots of bullying are in this pretension.  Hypocrisy may have nothing to do with religion.  It is rooted, however, in the limitations of our humanity and our insecurities about who we are, which is certainly a problem with spiritual dimensions.

I am guilty, however, in the religious realm.  How many times I have made a judgment about someone else’s faith, “How can they believe that stuff?”  As if my own beliefs are somehow the standard of purity and orthodoxy.  Seems like we could all stand not just a dose but a steady diet of humility.

The Benedictine Rule has at its very heart, the spiritual discipline of humility.  Humility is not attained by effort, but by self-denial.  Such a practice is counter-cultural in a subversive way, without calling attention to itself, like yeast that leavens the whole loaf by disappearing into the dough. I am reminded of the joke, “It’s hard to be humble when you’re as great as I am.”  We’re living in a time, a culture, of celebrity - American Idols, bully politicians, and look-at-me-ism.  I suspect all of it is an overcompensation for our insecurities and anxieties.  And hypocrisy and pretense runs amok.

As I write this blog I am wondering about my own pretense, as if I have something important enough to say that the whole world (or my loyal half-dozen readers) should read.  I pray God may forgive my own hypocrisy.  Forgive my tendency to appear more holy than I really am.  And may I have the perseverance to continue walking in the path of humility until I am made what God would have me to be.

Longing for More at Christmas

Do you ever feel caught between your highest aspirations and the demands of daily life?  Have you ever been frustrated by your inability to reach your dreams for a better world because of the need to buy groceries, cook supper, wash the dishes, bathe the children, get them to bed before you sink into the couch exhausted from the work-a-day routines? Anybody know what I’m talking about?

          The Bible’s book of Ecclesiastes tells us that God has planted the notion of eternity in our minds (3:11), yet we can’t fully know the breadth and depth of God’s plans.  So much remains a mystery.  I think that means that we have a God-planted yearning for God’s will to be done but we are limited in our ability to fully see or do that will.  As pastor of a church I am always caught between what we are as a congregation and what we could be.  I see the gap between the two.  For that matter, I see the gap between what I am and what I hope to be, and I am often frustrated by the distance - frustrated with myself.

          Amy Grant had a popular song many years ago, “My Grown-Up Christmas Wish,” in which she voiced her highest aspirations, “No more lives torn apart, that wars would never start, that time would heal all hearts.”  Each Christmas we are drawn to noble yearnings but also constrained by demands of family gatherings, gift buying, and a list of have-to-dos.  Christmas comes as both bane and blessing for so many of us, as we confront the gap between the Christmas of our dreams versus the Christmas with which we end up.

          All the more reason to take time in Advent, this period of preparation before Christmas, to give thanks for the Savior who comes to us, not only at Christmas but also every day, to fill the gap.  Christ Jesus is the Incarnation , the embodiment of our highest aspirations, and in him we behold the promise of great joy which will be for all people.  In him we see our deepest yearnings for peace, justice, and good will made flesh and dwelling among us.  At the cross we find mercy for our failure to live up to our own noblest desires, and perhaps at the manger we find strength to strive for better.  As you observe a holy Advent season, be thankful for a Savior who fills the gap between what is and what is yet to come, between what we are and what we will become, by grace.

The Calm Between Storms

I’m breathing a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence and solitude.  For two days now there have been no robocalls attempting to scare, manipulate, intimidate, or influence me to vote one way or another.  The TV is back to showing innocuous commercials about cars, shampoo, and beer --- no voice of doom warning me what might happen if one or the other candidate gets elected.  The difference in my mood is measureable.  Ahhhh.

I know the rancor of politics is not over but I’m appreciating this momentary lull, where winners and losers are for the most part being conciliatory.  The storms will return, of course, as surely as hurricane season brings its parade of tropical depressions; some, like Sandy, do build up to pack a wallop.  I know there looms on the horizon the “fiscal cliff,” and there will definitely be political conflict about what to do about it --- this is the way democracy works.  God bless America.

I am a citizen of the United States, and glad of it.  But I was born in Brazil to missionary parents and so I am considered a citizen of Brazil, also.  I have two passports.  I am proud of my Brazilian connection but I pledge allegiance to the Red, White and Blue rather than the Blue, Yellow and Green.  Still, I often feel like a stranger, no matter where I happen to be. 

One of the reasons for my sense of strangeness is the fact that our family moved around every four years or so.  I have never had a place that I call home, and so I often feel like a resident alien in whatever town I happen to be living in at the moment.  I have often wondered what it would be like to have been in one place for decades.  For me it is hard to imagine that kind of longevity anywhere.

But there is another reason for my rootlessness.  I belong to yet another country.  I have only seen it in my spiritual imagination as I have reflected on the Biblical witness of Jesus and the prophets.  The parables Jesus tells about the kingdom, and the pictures painted by the prophetic voices have taken hold of me and made me long for the country where God reigns, and I am restless until and unless I reside there.  Sometimes I have felt myself already there, when I have received kindness from strangers, seen enemies embrace, or witnessed forgiveness enfleshed.  I felt myself to be in that country this week as I shared coffee, donuts and deep conversation with African-American pastors as we empathized with each other in our common desire for justice and reconciliation. 

But most of the time I sense that there is a better country than this one and God has put a longing in my heart that cannot be satisfied with things as they are.

Still, I’m not just passing through.  I make my home where I am, and I look for God’s country in every face I see, and in everything I try to do.  And right now, in this quiet space and time, it feels more like home than usual.  And until the next storm comes I think I’ll just enjoy it.  

Who're You Voting For?

I heard Will Willimon, always a provocative Christian voice, once say that he does not think voting is high on the list of Christian duties.  I was surprised because I had always considered good citizenship to be integral to Christian discipleship.  I think the point Dr. Willimon was making is that Christians need to be clear that their primary allegiance is to the kingdom of God and the reign of Christ, and that we sometimes confuse our allegiances between God and country, as if they are one and the same.

          Without getting into a long debate on whether or not our nation is a new Promised Land, as some people think, I would argue that our vote as Christians should matter.  However, I am a bit philosophical about the impact of the Christians in any election.  After all, those Christians who vote for President Obama and those who vote for Governor Romney both believe that their vote is representative of their Christian convictions.  Who’s right?  I guess only God knows for sure.

          We are flawed in our decision-making, and those we elect are flawed human beings, themselves.  Psalm 146 gives us a helpful perspective on the election of leaders . . . “Put not your trust in princes,” says the psalmist.  The psalmist gives a clear-eyed view of the limitations of those who lead us . . . “their plans perish with them.”

          Instead, the psalmist tells us that if we want a merciful, just and peaceful world we should place our hope in God.  The work of God is going on around us all the time as the hungry are fed in soup kitchens, as the homeless are given shelter, as the sick receive care, the stranger is welcomed, the prisoner is set free, the sinner is forgiven.  All these signs of God’s rule happen regardless of whom we elect. 

          So, vote for whomever your Christian conscience leads you to vote for, but don’t expect your candidate to bring the kingdom of God.  Christ and his followers are doing that right now without the help of “princes.”