I woke today to the news that Osama Bib Laden was killed in a covert military operation over the weekend in Pakistan. This was the only story on the morning talk shows. My Facebook feed is filled with expressions of relief at his death and pride in the ability of the United States to accomplish the mission and bring him to justice.
It is big news to be sure. The events of September 11, 2001 wounded the heart of my country and, as much as we don't like to admit it, brought fear to the surface of our lives. My heart grieved with those who lost loved ones in the attacks and I led prayers for God to be with them and bring them comfort. I quietly cheered when we, as a nation, struck out to eradicate terrorism and vowed to make the world a safe and free place.
Almost ten years later I do not find myself cheering the news of Bin Laden's death. As a Christian I try to imagine how Jesus would greet this news. I struggle to think of the man who commands us to forgive our enemies and teaches us to turn the other cheek pumping his fist into the air with a flash mob and chanting, "USA! USA!"
Revenge can feel like justice. I've understood that since I was a small child. But revenge does not equal justice. The Gospels are clear about that point. In fact, that is exactly the point of the Gospels. God's justice is found in forgiveness. That near-incomprehensible concept is lived out in the Easter story. If revenge were the same as justice God would have needed to get even with those who betrayed, denied, abandoned and killed Jesus. Instead, Jesus is raised from the dead and his life and ministry continue.
I understand that there is a cost to be paid for freedom. To the men and women who have worked so hard and have given their lives for my political freedom I say thank you and congratulations.
To those who call themselves Christian, a gentle reminder: It is not Bin Laden's death that sets us free. It is neither revenge nor will it be the eradication of every person who wishes to harm us that finally guarantees our freedom. It is God's love in Christ that sets us free. We find true freedom in forgiveness not revenge.
I want my country to be free.
Reflecting on Life's moments to see what the future holds and asking "What if?"
Monday, May 2, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Thinking about Thinking About God
In the past few weeks the Evangelical world has been abuzz about Pastor Rob Bell's book LoveWins: A Book about Heaven, Hell and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. It began when his new publisher posted the most controversial quote from the book that it could find, challenging the "traditional" views of heaven and hell that most Christians teach.
A firestorm of tweets and blogs hit the internet denouncing Bell as a Universalist (someone who believes that everyone will go to heaven) and a heretic (someone who turns away from the "right" teaching of the church). Last week, as his book was released, Rob made the rounds on the morning news shows to be interviewed and he even did an hour-long streaming internet interview. Each TV interview began with a tease that claimed he was now saying there was no such place as hell.
Full disclosure: I like Rob Bell. I've been to his church. I attended his preaching conference two years ago. I use some of his Nooma videos in classes that I teach. This week I purchased Love Wins and have read just over half of it so far. I wasn't planning on buying it right away but so many people in my congregation have asked me about it that I thought I had better read it so I could speak from my own perspective.
My comment today isn't about Pastor Bell or his book. It's about the way the larger Christian Church has responded to it; especially the Evangelicals.
It occurred to me this morning that the Evangelical church has caught up with us Lutherans. Correct theology and the tenacious debate around it is becoming the primary concern of church leadership.Theology is the strength of the Lutheran church. It's what we're known for. Here is what I can tell you about theology.
1. Theology is simply thinking about God. So most people are theologians in that sense. But those who have spent years studying theology have built up jargon, catch phrases and other forms of shorthand that separate the academics from those who casually reflect on the nature of the Divine. Two tiers are created. An amateur and a professional rank are created. The professional ranks are populated by clergy, professional academics and some others in church leadership. The amateur ranks are made up of everyone else who thinks about God and God's participation in the world.
In this case what I am observing is an uproar within the professional ranks. It's mostly clergy and professional academics who are upset by the whole thing. What I am seeing among the amateur ranks is an interest in the conversation. Yes it can be upsetting to people to have long-held thoughts and beliefs challenged. But I am also seeing and hearing from people that these are the very kinds of questions that they have. The traditional ways of describing life and faith are no longer connecting with our experience and we need to figure out how to change the way we talk and think about God and Life without compromising the central message of the faith.
2. Within the professional ranks a game appears that I call competitive theology. I was first introduced to it in seminary. It is the subtle and not so subtle oneupmanship between classmates that are vying for attention from professors. What begins, I believe, as a true exchange of ideas becomes a competition whose goal is to win a debate, not to inform or to be informed by the conversation. When winning a debate is the goal, then labeling your opponent becomes the way you paint them into a corner. Defending yourself from accusations of heresy is a very different thing than debating the merits of your thoughts. Labeling and accusing are attempts to shut down the conversation, not move it forward.
Competitive theology is addictive in the same way that winning anything is addictive. It's one of the primary reasons I stopped going to theological conferences put on by my denomination. I too easily get sucked into the drama of the competition and I lose my perspective of love for the other. What begins as a journey together ends as a race, and if the other person (or group of thinkers) doesn't have what it takes to get to the end, well, it's their own fault. That is not the kind of person I want to be.
3. No one goes to heaven because of good theology. We all say this. We all believe this. We act as if the opposite were true.
If we really believe that eternal life is a gift of God's grace (wherever and whenever it is found to be) then why do we get so upset about bad theology? If we claim (and we do) that I cannot come to Christ by my own will or understanding, then why is it so important that I get my theology right? Is bad theology an unforgivable sin? My experience is that it is not. Any theology, even bad theology, can be redeemed by God. In fact if it weren't for some of the bad theology in my past I wouldn't be where I am today. God uses all of that to lead me to new life and new understanding.
Theology is a conversation to be joined, not an answer to be found. We need to get back to the conversation.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Paint a Picture of God for Me
Tonight two people painted a picture of God for me. To the casual observer they are the same God. I believe that in the minds of the people who were speaking, they both referred to the God of Abraham, Joseph, King David and the Father of Jesus (the one from Nazareth). Both of the pictures were painted with words and I saw them, heard them, on the internet. Both were painted with sincerity and passion.
Both images of God were painted with the words like, Love and Goodness. Both described a God with whom we can have a living and loving relationship. Both artists/story tellers believe that such a relationship is a path to a richer, better lived life.
But this is where the similarities end.
The first picture that was painted for me was done so by Rob Bell in a streaming event sponsored (I assume) by the publisher (Harper Collins) of his new book Love Wins which will be released tomorrow. In the hour long video Rob answers questions from Newsweek reporter Lisa Miller and people in the audience. In his answers he stresses the "here and now" aspect of both heaven and hell and emphasizes the way that Jesus and much of scripture talks about the ways that God comes to earth - not how we escape it to be with God. God is Love, he says, and Love demands freedom, even if it means freedom to stay away from God.
The second picture that was painted for me was done by a young woman on You Tube who posted a video titled, "God is So Good.!!!" In her three minute video she tells how she and some friends have been praying fervently since the beginning of Lent (6 days ago) that God reveal himself to the atheists of the world. She then went on to say that God answered her prayers when he literally shook the country of Japan with the earthquake last Friday. She then breathlessly looked forward to more of God's "goodness" to be poured out on Europe and America before Easter because of all the atheists in residence.
Can these both be pictures of the same God?
No. No they can't. One paints a picture of a God who is loving and forgiving. The other paints a picture of a God who masquerades as loving and forgiving but has these unpredictable bouts of anger and wrath. One is painted by a person who wants to see the end of suffering and the other is painted by someone who is secretly delighted by someone else's suffering.
Unfortunately, these pictures are often mashed up and co-mingled. They both fly under the banner of Christianity. They both exist within our churches and the minds of the people in the churches.
Maybe it is time to sort them out.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Observing Lent
How do you observe the season of Lent? There are several traditional ways of observing the 40 day season that leads up to our celebration of Christ’s resurrection.
Sacrifice: Many Christians observe Lent by giving up something that is special to them. Some give up chocolate or desserts. The youth group is encouraging people to give up texting. Others go without soda or restrict their TV viewing. Whatever it is you give up, the idea is to somehow experience sacrifice. And while most of the things we give up don’t cause us to truly suffer, they do offer a reminder of what it meant for Jesus to sacrifice his life for us.Intensified Spiritual Practice: The season of Lent was originally a time for those who wanted to be baptized to increase their devotion to God. Sacrifice was a part of this practice. People fasted (went without food for a specified time) and they also sacrificed so they could give more to the poor. In addition to sacrifice they also added time for prayer, devotion and serving those in need. The idea with intensified spiritual practice is to become more Christ-like in our everyday lives. It was hoped that at the end of the 40 days of preparation, those spiritual practices would continue. Easter was not a release from these sacrifices and practices. Easter is about the new life that is formed through them.
Led by the Spirit: The 40 days of Lent are based on Jesus’ experience in the wilderness after his baptism. We are told that Jesus was led by the Holy Spirit (actually “expelled” to the wilderness in the Greek). The wilderness is a place of chaos and testing. It is a place where we are not in control.
I think it is interesting that our current Lenten practices encourage us to take more control in our lives when, for Jesus, it was about letting go of control. At the end of the 40 days in the wilderness, Jesus was tempted by Satan to take control of his life and his destiny. Instead, Jesus let God remain in control. He would take no shortcuts. He would not force God’s hand.
What would it look like for us if we were led by the Spirit through the 40 days of Lent? What would it be like if we were not in control? What would it be like to experience the hunger of a fast and suffer alongside the millions of people who are hungry every day? What would it be like for Christians to stop trying to build the Kingdom of God through a political process and, instead, became servants of the least deserving people? What if we gave up the notion that if we just pray more, give more or worship more then God will have to ease our suffering or bless us in some other way?
Being led by the Spirit means being led into suffering. Not in some sadistic, self-effacing way or in some attempt at delayed glory. The Spirit leads us into suffering for some other reason.
Perhaps this is what I'm being led to explore during Lent. We'll see.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Who Are You Paying Attention To?
It is really mind-boggling just how many resources go into capturing our attention. The spectacle of the Super Bowl is simply an overblown example of what most of us see every day.
Then today, while doing some work, I was thinking about the way we are all trying to get people to pay attention to us. I'm not suggesting that we are all narcissistic and self absorbed. I'm just aware that we all have this need to know that someone is paying attention to us. It lets us know that we are not alone. It comforts us to know that if something happens to us, someone else will notice.
But what happens when we are spending our time and energy getting noticed and not paying attention to someone else? Or what happens when we pay attention only to things on TV instead of the people around us?
Perhaps one of the most important things we can do is pay attention to those people around us. It is time consuming, energy intensive and almost completely opposite of what our culture teaches us to do. Instead of demanding that they compete for our attention like advertisers on the Super Bowl, if we freely give them the one thing they crave more than any other, they will be free to give their attention to others.
Imagine a world people are given more attention than a corn chip ad even if they are not as clever or entertaining. I can only think it would be a better place.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Good Day and Welcome to Day 12
This is the twelfth and final reflection on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.
12 days ago the idea of reflecting on Christmas for twelve days began with a reaction I had to Don Miller's tweet about giving "Christ the entry he deserved but did not orchestrate himself." This, I thought to myself, is the problem with Christmas. We try to make it into something it is not meant to be.
I need to confess that I don't like Christmas. I haven't liked Christmas for a long time. I don't know when it started but I can hardly remember a time when I did like Christmas. I remember talking to my mom about Santa's existence and feeling betrayed by the adults who would perpetrate such an elaborate ruse. In high school, I remember my Grandpa Jones admitting that he didn't like Christmas. It reminded him of family (parents and siblings) that he left back in Wales to come to the United States as a boy. I don't know if these things triggered my dislike of the holiday but I know that it has grown over the years.
My reflections over these twelve days of Christmas were an attempt to put my feelings about Christmas into perspective. As I have written them I have noticed some themes. Here is what I think I am learning this year at Christmas:
Christmas is an elaborate production. For most people, Christmas has become an opportunity to become the stage manager in our personal Christmas pageant. Sets and scenes are created. People are directed to come and go on cue. We carefully choose costumes (note the popularity of ugly sweater parties). Every sense is engaged as carols waft in the background and mingle with the taste and smell of Christmas baking. Even though claim this is not what Christmas is about, just try to take it away and see how you are treated.
I believe that Christmas is about the real presence of the Divine in our lives. I believe that we can only recognize that presence in quiet, reflective moments. Yes, God is present in our elaborate productions but we have a hard time detecting that presence when there is so much to distract us. Sometimes it feels like the production is there specifically to keep us from experiencing the Presence that we seek.
Christmas is primarily about the tradition. Traditions are ways that we stay rooted to predominant cultural values. Because we are in a time of great cultural flux there is an increased desire to cling to these traditions. In fact, the traditions have become more important than the facts.
This is the most annoying part of Christmas to me. I am all for observing traditions as long as they convey some meaning. I detest traditions when the meaning has been lost and we simply observe a tradition because it has always been done that way. (Let me tell you about weddings some day.) I believe the fact that we cling so strongly to traditions reveals an inherent mistrust of God's presence in our lives. It is part of the human desire to remain where God was and not venture out to where God is.
Christmas is blended together. Everything about Christmas has been thrown into a big blender and there is no way to make distinctions between the religious and non-religious. As one friend replied to a post, "Perhaps there is no secular."
This is the part that I have to work on. This is the thing that can make Christmas better. In all of the productions and all of the traditions God is present. This is what happens when God relinquishes control and becomes vulnerable. We humans become partners in a creative endeavor. The best creative impulses are mash-ups of dreams, attempts, successes and failures. Christmas will change. Well, the traditions will change. But the presence of the Divine will not.
With that in mind, let me share my favorite Christmas song. A true mash-up of religious and non-religious traditions. Merry Christmas.
12 days ago the idea of reflecting on Christmas for twelve days began with a reaction I had to Don Miller's tweet about giving "Christ the entry he deserved but did not orchestrate himself." This, I thought to myself, is the problem with Christmas. We try to make it into something it is not meant to be.
I need to confess that I don't like Christmas. I haven't liked Christmas for a long time. I don't know when it started but I can hardly remember a time when I did like Christmas. I remember talking to my mom about Santa's existence and feeling betrayed by the adults who would perpetrate such an elaborate ruse. In high school, I remember my Grandpa Jones admitting that he didn't like Christmas. It reminded him of family (parents and siblings) that he left back in Wales to come to the United States as a boy. I don't know if these things triggered my dislike of the holiday but I know that it has grown over the years.
My reflections over these twelve days of Christmas were an attempt to put my feelings about Christmas into perspective. As I have written them I have noticed some themes. Here is what I think I am learning this year at Christmas:
Christmas is an elaborate production. For most people, Christmas has become an opportunity to become the stage manager in our personal Christmas pageant. Sets and scenes are created. People are directed to come and go on cue. We carefully choose costumes (note the popularity of ugly sweater parties). Every sense is engaged as carols waft in the background and mingle with the taste and smell of Christmas baking. Even though claim this is not what Christmas is about, just try to take it away and see how you are treated.
I believe that Christmas is about the real presence of the Divine in our lives. I believe that we can only recognize that presence in quiet, reflective moments. Yes, God is present in our elaborate productions but we have a hard time detecting that presence when there is so much to distract us. Sometimes it feels like the production is there specifically to keep us from experiencing the Presence that we seek.
Christmas is primarily about the tradition. Traditions are ways that we stay rooted to predominant cultural values. Because we are in a time of great cultural flux there is an increased desire to cling to these traditions. In fact, the traditions have become more important than the facts.
This is the most annoying part of Christmas to me. I am all for observing traditions as long as they convey some meaning. I detest traditions when the meaning has been lost and we simply observe a tradition because it has always been done that way. (Let me tell you about weddings some day.) I believe the fact that we cling so strongly to traditions reveals an inherent mistrust of God's presence in our lives. It is part of the human desire to remain where God was and not venture out to where God is.
Christmas is blended together. Everything about Christmas has been thrown into a big blender and there is no way to make distinctions between the religious and non-religious. As one friend replied to a post, "Perhaps there is no secular."
This is the part that I have to work on. This is the thing that can make Christmas better. In all of the productions and all of the traditions God is present. This is what happens when God relinquishes control and becomes vulnerable. We humans become partners in a creative endeavor. The best creative impulses are mash-ups of dreams, attempts, successes and failures. Christmas will change. Well, the traditions will change. But the presence of the Divine will not.
With that in mind, let me share my favorite Christmas song. A true mash-up of religious and non-religious traditions. Merry Christmas.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Christmas Exposed
This is the eleventh in a series of 12 personal reflections on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.
Evidently there area a lot of things that I don't get about Christmas. The musings that I have posted over the last 10 days have been an attempt to sort some of it out. But there is one part of the Christmas story that still stupefies me. It is a part that we rarely talk about.
Christmas is about being vulnerable.
Christmas is a season where we go to great lengths to show that we are in control. On top of already busy lives we toss in parties, shopping, decorating and then insist on a facade of cheer. There is no place for sadness or depression. There is no place to admit that we belong to screwed up families. There is no place to be realistic about finances or the fact that we already have more than we need. It is not acceptable to be tired, weary, worn or grumpy. Be nice, smile and keep going. That's what we do at Christmas.
The Christmas story has long been interpreted this way too. In a crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God is in control and has a plan. God will send a Son into the world: A God-Man who will pay the price for our ticket out of here when we die. He will be nice. He will smile. And he will keep on going through the most agonizing and stress-filled events life can hand him.
The preacher says, "We should too."
But what if we interpret the story a bit differently. What if we see that in this crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God chooses to be completely opposite of "in control" and becomes totally and utterly vulnerable. Is there anything more vulnerable than a new-born infant? It can't communicate, can't move, can't find food or water on it's own and wouldn't be able to digest it if it could. A new born is as vulnerable and dependent on the care of others as anything I can imagine.
Now let's expand this notion a bit. If you are a God in control and you do choose to become human by birth wouldn't you choose to be born into a family with the means of supporting you? Yet in this story God chooses a peasant couple whose relationship is rocked to the point of breaking by the surprise pregnancy. They are displaced. Over the next few years they will be forced to move to a far country, leaving family and support structures behind even though they have no experience doing this. And why, please tell me why a God who wants to be in control would choose a time in history when infant and childhood mortality rates are so much higher than they are now.
The virgin birth is a small miracle compared to that of a child surviving to adulthood under these circumstances.
Maybe the Christmas story is God's way of saying that it's okay to be vulnerable; it's okay not to be in control. God will live in a family that is a bit dysfunctional. God will be forced to go places and do things by forces that are outside of his control. God will find peace in all of this by being a servant to the sick and lowly.
Then the preacher says, "Maybe we can too."
Evidently there area a lot of things that I don't get about Christmas. The musings that I have posted over the last 10 days have been an attempt to sort some of it out. But there is one part of the Christmas story that still stupefies me. It is a part that we rarely talk about.
Christmas is about being vulnerable.
Christmas is a season where we go to great lengths to show that we are in control. On top of already busy lives we toss in parties, shopping, decorating and then insist on a facade of cheer. There is no place for sadness or depression. There is no place to admit that we belong to screwed up families. There is no place to be realistic about finances or the fact that we already have more than we need. It is not acceptable to be tired, weary, worn or grumpy. Be nice, smile and keep going. That's what we do at Christmas.
The Christmas story has long been interpreted this way too. In a crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God is in control and has a plan. God will send a Son into the world: A God-Man who will pay the price for our ticket out of here when we die. He will be nice. He will smile. And he will keep on going through the most agonizing and stress-filled events life can hand him.
The preacher says, "We should too."
But what if we interpret the story a bit differently. What if we see that in this crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God chooses to be completely opposite of "in control" and becomes totally and utterly vulnerable. Is there anything more vulnerable than a new-born infant? It can't communicate, can't move, can't find food or water on it's own and wouldn't be able to digest it if it could. A new born is as vulnerable and dependent on the care of others as anything I can imagine.
Now let's expand this notion a bit. If you are a God in control and you do choose to become human by birth wouldn't you choose to be born into a family with the means of supporting you? Yet in this story God chooses a peasant couple whose relationship is rocked to the point of breaking by the surprise pregnancy. They are displaced. Over the next few years they will be forced to move to a far country, leaving family and support structures behind even though they have no experience doing this. And why, please tell me why a God who wants to be in control would choose a time in history when infant and childhood mortality rates are so much higher than they are now.
The virgin birth is a small miracle compared to that of a child surviving to adulthood under these circumstances.
Maybe the Christmas story is God's way of saying that it's okay to be vulnerable; it's okay not to be in control. God will live in a family that is a bit dysfunctional. God will be forced to go places and do things by forces that are outside of his control. God will find peace in all of this by being a servant to the sick and lowly.
Then the preacher says, "Maybe we can too."
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