Don't Choke Me, Bro'

     This Advent Season has become protest season, with government institutions under fire for various activities, past and present. Police are accused of racism and brutality, the wartime use of drones has been labeled indiscriminate killing of innocent civilians, and the CIA is under fire for its treatment of Muslim prisoners over the past 13 years.

     Evidence has come to light suggesting few police officers are held accountable for unnecessary violence toward racial minorities and street people. With lack of indictments in the killing of Michael Brown and Eric Garner and the earlier acquittal of George Zimmerman in the murder of Trayvon Martin, more and more questions are being raised about whether the court system is equally to blame for a lack of justice.    
       The brutality of the CIA’s methods of questioning prisoners, detailed in a recent congressional report, is deeply disturbing. Waterboarding, sleep deprivation, and sexual violence seem to have been used as a matter of course to try to gain information. And with the use of drones in war zones, many are wondering how any discretion can be used in bomb or missile attacks in Iraq when the operators are closeted away in Nevada.  Civilian bystanders easily become “collateral damage.”    
    Listening to those who defend these actions transports us back to the Garden of Eden. We can recall the conversation between its inhabitants and God when he asked, “What’s up with wearing clothes? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” Adam says the woman God gave him made him do it and Eve says the serpent beguiled her, each one pointing a finger to blame the other.
    Not much later Cain kills Abel, and when God can’t find him he asks, “Where is your brother Abel?” Cain pleads ignorance and says, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” God replies that yes, actually, you are.
     But in the matter of current protests there is little pleading ignorance or even blaming others. Instead it’s a litany of self-justification. We didn’t do anything wrong … what we did was legal … it was necessary … we had no alternative.
     This is called deontic logic. We did it because we had no other choice. The middle school girl whom the teacher asks, “Why did you hit her?” responds, “I had to. She looked at me.” It’s a common theme among those who have been accused of failing their responsibility. “We had to use that kind of force. It was our only option. We were attacked/felt threatened/had the law on our side. We were legally justified in doing what we did.”
     The final excuse, and an unprovable one, is that “it worked.” It is pragmatism run amok. The argument surfaces along with the revelation of the torture instances. We did what we did because we were able to gain vital information about our other enemies. No one seems to agree about whether the methods “worked” or not, whether the approaches were effective.
     But they were still wrong. In the legal sense, they may have been acceptable, but in the moral sense, you should have known better. Or as Paul puts it in Romans, you did know better. You knew about God from the beginning and ignored what you knew to be true. “And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind and to things that should not be done.”
     The solution, in addition to honoring God, is to see past quick solutions, black and white thinking, and refusal to take personal responsibility for one’s actions. It is to ask, “If we do or say this, what kind of world are we potentially making for ourselves and others?” And to ask whether there are any alternatives to dealing in brutality, torture and death.

Josh's Shadow

     Let’s call him Josh. The first time I met Josh, about 6 months ago, he was in the church courtyard, near but not close to other members of what we’ve come to know as our “Courtyard Congregation.”  They’re a collection of itinerant folks with no permanent address.  As usual Josh was in conversation with himself, and only included others when they intruded on his personal space, an area about 9 feet in diameter. Even then the interaction wasn’t a dialogue, just a blistering rebuke to get away and leave him alone. I can describe him. Long unkempt hair and beard, military fatigues, worn boots, fingerless gloves, parka, backpack, stutter-gait; the fact that he began coming inside the church on Monday and Friday mornings for a free breakfast was a huge social step forward, for us and for him. 

     Not that it always went smoothly. Somehow Josh developed a protective attitude toward the breakfast space. It surfaced when someone who didn’t know the rules started using questionable language; Josh would be on his feet, threatening to eject them because “we don’t talk that way in a church.” I had visions of an old TV western with disruptive cowboys being thrown out of the bar through the swinging louvered doors. One of our hostesses had to caution him about not physically assaulting others, ill-mannered as they may be.
    The next thing we knew Josh was helping sweep the paved part of the outdoor courtyard and picking up scraps of paper. He said, “Gotta keep this neat out here. One way to serve.”
    Looking ahead to the sermons for January I came across a blog by Larry Platten entitled “Two Words.” In it he recounts an early seminary experience when he received a paper with no grade and no comments back from a professor. In that scene there was just the presence of the professor, the unmarked paper on his desk, and Larry’s fear that it was so bad he would fail the class or worse, be dismissed from school.
    “This is how the professor begins his sentence, this is how he begins creation, this is how he helps transform a fearful student into a curious pastor and writer and person: “What if . . .”
    “Those. Two. Words. …      What if . . . the professor suggested, John the Baptist was more than just someone to prepare believers for Jesus’ arrival? What if . . . the Baptizer was Jesus’ rival? What if . . . there’s more to this story than what appears on the surface?[1]
    So back to Josh. This morning I had to look twice, because he arrived for breakfast, same outfit, same limp, but the beard and hair were noticeably shorter. When I asked “What’s new?” he said, “I have a shadow.”
    “In what way?”
    “I have a sociology student from the college who’s following me around for two days. Going to show him the gutter-side of life if he really wants to see it.”
    Really.  What if … there’s more to a person than appears on the surface?

 

---

[1] Platten, Larry. “Two Words.” December 27, 2007: http://www.larrypatten.com/2011/12/27/two-words/  Retrieved November 14, 2014.

A Welcome Distraction

     I’ve come to expect the unexpected on airline flights. Once again, I am not disappointed. My current trip is to the Advanced Clergy Conference in Lombard, Illinois, via Southwest (Wanna Get Away?) which has routed me from Portland to Chicago Midway via Oakland, CA. Not exactly a direct flight, and prior to boarding I suspect collusion between the folks at PDX and the media. It can’t be a coincidence that the morning news video features a crash between a small twin-engine plane and a helicopter. The sight of the mangled metal on the ground tweaks my imagination. I’m pretty certain this film clip was scheduled with me in mind, just to test my faith in physics and Jesus.
      But the first leg of the trip gets my attention off it. I’ve snagged a window seat, and soon I’m joined by an older (than me) couple. She’s not too stable and more or less falls into her seat. He’s in caretaker mode and looks remarkably like a former parishioner, but he doesn’t seem to recognize me, so I guess it’s just happenstance.
     She’s a fiddler. As soon as we’re in the air she has her tray down and her carry-on open, sorting the contents: change purse, tweezers, keys, Kleenex, eyedrops, more Kleenex, and a crossword paperback. All but that last gets stowed, and she and her husband, at least that’s my guess, get into an above-the-engine-decibel level discussion about each clue. Four letter word for curve. Five letter word for recommend. Southwestern Indian – six letters. This is time-consuming because she can’t see the page nor, for some reason, grip a pen. But he wants her to come up with the answers, so he reads each question aloud then gives her hints before she finally gets it, and he leans around her to write down the solution.
     And now I discover it wasn’t eye drops. The carry-on reappears and out comes the bottle of contact lens wetting solution. She has decided the reason she can’t see is because her contact was in upside down (inside out?) causing great discomfort and loss of vision. She manages to extract it and starts rewetting it on the tray table, squirting on the solution and rubbing it against the formica - at which point it slips into her lap. But her husband is right there: “I think I see it. Here, let me get it. Oh, that isn’t it. Pull your coat apart. Maybe it went on the floor.”
     Soon the wayward lens is recovered and the rewetting process begins again, just as the flight attendant brings her a coke and him a gin and tonic. He spills part of his, looking for the lens, and she spills part of hers, trying to pull her coat apart. We've added more liquid to the mix!
     Now things start scooting freely back and forth, and to my delight all fears of a plane crash have been set aside.  I imagine a meal out with my new companions: him cutting her food, she rewetting her contact lens with gravy. But for now she’s able to pop the lens in, put the carry-on back on the floor, raise the tray table, and scoot to the bathroom and back all on her own before we land.
     They both seem pleased with the way the past hour and a half has been spent. And so am I.

 

Separation

We’re holding a Welcome Class at First Baptist McMinnville. It’s meant (kind of obviously) to welcome people to the church – newcomers, visitors, anyone wanting to know more about the congregation and American Baptists. So the focus is on  Baptist freedoms, with an appreciative nod to Walter Shurden’s The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms (Smyth & Helwys Publishing, 1993). Shurden lists the freedoms of Bible, Soul, Church, and Religion. It’s the last one, Religious Freedom, that addresses the tension between church and state.

My memory of Baptist history isn’t so good when it comes to details, but I was taught about Roger Williams, his refusal to bend to the will of the Church of England or the Puritans in the New World, and after much harassment founding the colony of Providence. The First Baptist Church of Providence is still a standing and vital part of our denomination.

The separation of Church and State, which Williams fussed over, has been a tense thing in the churches I’ve served. There were always a few individuals who embraced the concept fully, while others gave it lip service or ignored it altogether. As a student at Northern Baptist Seminary I was assigned along with two classmates to preach at Raymond Street Baptist Church, a mission church without a pastor. It was located in Mayor Daly’s Bridgeport neighborhood. We wore clerical collars to gain admittance to the Catholic Hospital without having to recite the Apostle’s Creed.

One of said classmates thought it would be fitting, in 1972, to remove the American flag from the podium. This decision did not sit well with the church members. The only support I know of came from one Anna Ashe, a 91 year-old prohibitionist who had accompanied Carrie Nation around the Midwest smashing bar windows and chasing drunks down the city streets. When I met her she still carried a black umbrella with which she would threaten to rap someone over the head if they disagreed with her.

But pushing back against government and corporate interference is part of our calling. And when I read books and articles, lots of them allude to this topic. A recent one comes in a conversation between Danny Branch’s lawyer Henry Catlett, and the detective, Mr. Bode. (Berry, Wendell. Fidelity: Five Stories. 1992: Pantheon Books, pp 162ff).

Some time ago Danny’s father, Burley Branch, became ill and was taken to a hospital where he lapsed into a coma. He was intubated, barely kept alive for a long time. Then according to the hospital personnel someone came to Burley’s room with a gurney and carted him off into the night.

Police detective Bode is certain Danny Branch, who can’t be found, is responsible for this, even though there is no evidence – nor a specific crime with which to charge him. So the detective goes to Danny’s lawyer and asks for his cooperation in tracking Danny down.

“Can’t help you,” Henry said. “It’s a matter of patriotism.”

“Patriotism? You can’t mean that.”

“I mean patriotism – love for your country and your neighbors. There’s a difference, Mr.  Bode, between the state, or any other organization, and the country. I’m not going to cooperate with you in this case because I don’t like what you represent.”

“What I represent? What do you think I represent?”

“The organization of the world.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means, “Henry said, “that you want whatever you know to serve power. You want knowledge to be power.  … You’re here to represent the right of the state and other large organizations to decide for us and come between us. The people you represent will come out here without asking our opinion, and shut down a barbershop or a little slaughterhouse because it’s not sanitary enough for us, and then let other businesses – richer ones – poison the air and water.”

“I’m not in charge of the state,” Kyle Bode said. “I’m just doing my duty.”

After a bit Henry’s father and partner, Wheeler, joins the conversation.

Bode says, “Well, anyway, all I know is that the law has been broken, and I am here to serve the law.”

“The law exists only to serve.”

“Serve what?”

“Why, all the many things that are above it. Love.”’

As supportive as the government may seem, it will be supportive of the church only so long as the church serves the government’s purpose. There is even the risk that the church will become dependent because of the government’s largesse. Perhaps it sounds paranoid for wanting the church to keep its distance from the state, but I think Wendell Berry might have been an American Baptist.

 

 

Martja

 

 

When nearly everyone else was seated

She wandered to a pew

Dressed in her red sweatshirt and jeans

Holding a small worn doll

She called sweetiepie

Her gray hair was tied back

In a long pony tail

And smiling

She called out to people she recognized

Hello April. Hello Jimmie. Hello Sandy.

They nodded in reply

While she alone broke the silence

That tried to respect death

Then she sat through the service

Twirling her hair in her fingers

And rubbing her face

And fidgeting

And grieving with all of us

 

Making What Peace is Left For Us

In his  short story, Pray Without Ceasing, Wendell Berry (Fidelity, Five Stories, New York: Pantheon Books, 1992) tells about Thad Coulter, who loses his hard-earned farm after mortgaging the property and giving the money to his son, who promptly spends it all. Thad becomes enraged - at his son, at the bank, and at himself for being so gullible and so stupid. He has lost what he worked a lifetime for. The more he thinks about it the angrier he gets, until finally, in a drunken frenzy, he goes to the home of his best friend, Ben Feltner, and begins a tirade that seems to never end. Finally Ben escorts him out of the house, promising to talk with him when he sobers up.

But this dismissal just infuriates Thad further. He feels that his only friend has become his enemy, siding with all those others. He goes home, gets his pistol, returns to town, and seeing Ben on the street, murders him. A short time later he turns himself in to the sheriff, confesses his crime, and is locked up. When news reaches Ben's family of the killing, they're distraught. But they aren't without friends.

A crowd gathers in front of their porch. Several among it express their anger at what has  happened. Ben's wife Nancy and their son Mat listen.

"We know it was a thing done out of meanness. We don't think we can stand for it. ... It's only up to you to say the word, and we'll ride down there tonight and put justice beyond question. We have a rope."

"Mat's voice, when it came, was steady:

"'No, gentlemen. I appreciate it. We all do.. But I ask you not to do it.'  Nancy, under whose feet the earth was not shaking, if it ever had, stepped up beside her son and took his arm. She said to the crowd, "I know you are my husband's friends. I thank you. I, too, must ask you not to do as you propose. I have asked you. Mat has asked you. If Ben could, he would ask you. Let us make what peace is left for us to make.'

"' If  you want to, ' Mat said, "come and be with us. We have food, and you are all welcome.'" (pp. 56-57)

Some stay. A corner is turned. But where does one find the grace and wisdom to "make what peace is left for us to make"?

Maybe its a learning. From observation, from past experience, we have the knowledge that, as Miroslav Volf says, "retaliation born of fury clearly is morally wrong. ... revenge abandons the principle of 'measure for measure' and, acting out of injured pride and untamed fear, gives itself to punitive excess. That's why revenge is morally wrong. In its zeal to punish, it overindulgently takes from the offender more than is due." (Free of Charge. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005, p. 159)

Or maybe it's a teaching taken seriously. "Beloved, never avenge yourselves." Instead, "Bless those who persecute you. If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink." (Romans 12)

Or maybe it is simply grace. A recalling of how God is said to act, is said to reach out and embrace those who don't expect it, but who sense the peace that accompanies it. And acting in a way that Volf says in another place:  "We do here as Jesus did before."

Pastor Mike

Sacred Space

   Alistair Eberst writes, "St. Cuthbert's Island adjoining the shore of Lindisfarne is a wonderful parable of quiet, for it is always in sight of the main  island, and yet for hours and hours at a time it is completely cut off. It seems designed especially to experience a day of solitude, long enough to limit your freedom, but not as inaccessible as the life of the true hermit. Here Cuthbert, and most certainly Aidan before him, escaped from the pressures of community and of missions and turned their face towards God."1
   Traveling to a sacred place might be easy for some, but I'm on a budget. I haven't found any local prayer huts or protected islands to escape to regularly. When we were newly married and had an infant daughter I determined to get away for a night and spend the time in prayer and quiet, so I went to the church camp an hour away with my tent and sleeping bag. I built a fire, and something in the smoke triggered my allergies. I got so sick I decided to go back home where I could spend the night in prayer and quiet without choking to death. My wife, whom I'd abandoned for the evening, found that quite humorous.
   My suspicion is that there are sacred spaces that are much closer to home than a church camp or St. Cuthbert's Island, and much more accessible. Any story scripture tells about  the ministry of Jesus will do. I find that I can go to one as a place apart, enter the story, and speak and be heard.
When I read about a dinner being given in Jesus' honor (John 12:1ff) I simply take my place at the table. Martha is serving, Lazarus is there recovering from death, and Mary is anointing Jesus' feet with expensive perfume, wiping them with her hair.
   Judas is there too, carping about wasting the perfume instead of selling it as a fundraiser for the poor, and it's obvious he's taking a swipe at Mary for being so wasteful. Jesus reprimands him: "Leave her alone. It was intended," he says, "that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial." John says that meanwhile a large crowd of Jews began to gather and plot Jesus' death.
   It seems like a lot of things are going on during this "simple dinner of honor." My first inclination is to take sides with one of the groups present. Which is most appealing? Martha serving food, Mary pouring perfume, Judas complaining, Jesus defending, Pharisees plotting? I know the story, so I know how it plays out. But what if I didn't?
   When my imagination comes into play I see Judas' response to Jesus' "Leave her alone ... It was intended." There is a quick look of defiance on Judas' face. It's not the reaction of a disciple/learner. One would expect appreciation for the instruction. But maybe Jesus does sound a bit harsh, more so than if it were simple instruction. The fact that Jesus knows what is "intended" - surely by God - infers that Judas doesn't have the insight Jesus does. Or perhaps Jesus can read him all too well.
   So now, imagining again, I feel a tension in the air. Martha's service is interrupted, as is Mary's attention to Jesus. The disciples look first at Judas, then back at Jesus, and it becomes quiet. And I enter into the sacred space of choosing.

Pastor Mike


1 Eberst, Alistair. "St Cuthbert's Island." Celtic Daily Prayer. 2002: HarperOne, p. 453.

Kids

I'm intrigued.  News reports say that Walmart is planning to spend 3 billion dollars over the next 10 years to strengthen the US economy. The agenda includes supporting new technologies, underwriting new businesses - a long list of investments. It's a sizeable goal, and obviously Walmart is doing quite well financially. As business people the company leaders expect the investment to pay off in the long run. New jobs mean more money back into the economy, which means more jobs.

With an estimated 50,000 children coming into the country from places like Guatemala,  the government is balking at spending 3 billion dollars to assist them. Actually the proposal is to spend 1.5 billion to assist them, with the remainder going to beef up the border patrol to keep additional kids and adults out. That remainder seems to be a bone thrown to the anti-immigration crowd which wants to block the border completely.

I can't do the math very well. But it would seem that $1.5 billion is enough to provide and underwrite food, clothing, and medical care for 50,000 kids over 10 years. That would be 150,000,000 a year, or 3,000 a year per child for 10 years. Put the first year of expenses to work, invest the rest, and the principle grows exponentially. Give  a financial incentive to cities around the country willing to set up staffed residence homes.

Maybe the idea isn't at all feasible. But don't try to convince me Walmart can come up with the money and the government can't. If these kids aren't on our conscience now, they will be in the future.

You Are Always With Me

I'm confused, once again, by my morning devotional scripture. This isn't unusual. In fact if I'm not confused by the scripture passage for the day I'm confused by lots of other things. But this one verse raises a question for me. It comes in Luke's account (15:11-31) of Jesus' teaching about the lost son. In this parable the younger of two brothers pesters his father for his share of the estate while the father is still alive, and the father "divided his property between them." The boy fritters it all away and then comes crawling home, broke and hungry, whereupon the father throws a big party.

The older son has his nose out of joint: "Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!"

Certainly the point of the parable is that God's love is forgiving and inclusive, regardless of the offense. The teaching comes on the heals of the parables of the lost sheep and  the lost coin; in both cases there is heavenly rejoicing because a repentant sinner has been saved. It's a concern to some that the confession of the younger son doesn't flow so much from a sense of sorrow for what he's done wrong as from the fact he's starving to death and there is food to spare back at home. And it's also a matter of how we interpret parables that determines how much meaning is packed into them.

So as Vernon Doerksen states, "It is well, at this point, to distinguish  between parable, allegory, simile, and metaphor.  A metaphor equates one object or person with the other. For  instance, John's Gospel contains no parables, in the usual sense, but it  gives many metaphors of our Lord, such as, "I am the good shepherd”  (10:11) and "I am the true vine" (15:1). 

"A simile does not equate the two, but it does draw out a comparison. ... The simile and parable are very close together in a parable such as, “The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman  took…” (Matt. 13:33).

"One further form is the allegory. An allegory is a story where  every point is important. The classical illustration is Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. A Biblical example is allegory in Galatians (4:22-31).... Thus in an allegory every detail of  the story has its counter-part; whereas, in a parable there is usually but  one central truth." (1)

So back to the malcontented brothers in Luke 15. The one central truth is, again, God forgives and embraces, regardless. Even whole-hearted repentance isn't required. But there is a strange (to me) follow-on to the story. The father says to the older brother, "My son, you are with me always, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

And my question is, did Jesus see himself in the parable he told? I  know I tend to teach and preach in the context of my own learnings and challenges; the questions I struggle with wiggle their way into my lessons and sermons., Was the awareness of God's insistence on forgiveness part of Jesus' own growth in wisdom and stature and in favor with God? Was it a revelation of maturity, not unlike the times of temptation in the wilderness or the retreats in prayer from the crowds? How human was our Lord?

(1)  Doerksen, Vernon D. The Interpretation of the Parables. Grace Theological Journal 11.2 (1970) 3-20   Copyright © 1970 by Grace Theological Seminary. 

The Presence of God

   Since I’m neither disciplined enough nor creative enough to come up with daily devotions on my own, I depend on a prayer book or two that include readings and suggested scriptures. That way I only have to deal with setting aside the time to read them and pray, which is enough of a challenge. Sometimes the books themselves can be confusing, like when they say the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost was between June 12 and 18, but that isn’t true this year. I think that was the Second Sunday.

   Anyway, the Psalm of Petition for the week included this:

      Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud,
      Be gracious to me and answer me!
  “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!”
      Your face, Lord, do I seek.
      Do not hide your face from me.  –Ps 27
   It takes a conviction I don’t always have to be sure that God is ever-present. I’m in good company, I guess; the Psalmist often felt abandoned by God (“How long must your servant wait?”), but would then do an about-face: (“I sought the Lord and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears”).
   Brother Lawrence, in Practicing the Presence of God, makes the conviction sound doable. Writing about himself in the third person he says, “You must know, his continual care has been, for above forty years past that he has spent in religion, to be always with GOD; and to do nothing, say nothing, and think nothing which may displease Him; and this without any other view than purely for the love of Him, and because He deserves infinitely more.
   “He is now so accustomed to that Divine presence, that he receives from it continual succors upon all occasions. For about thirty years, his soul has been filled with joys so continual, and sometimes so great, that he is forced to use means to moderate them, and to hinder their appearing outwardly.”
   Brother Lawrence’s approach is fairly conditional: as long as one’s attention is focused on God and one lives righteously, God will be present. Deuteronomy gives us a little more latitude: Be strong and of good courage …  for it is the Lord your God who goes with you; he will not fail you or forsake you.”
   It takes a bit of Biblical chutzpah to claim the verse for our own. Moses was speaking to Israel just before he died, and the tribes were about to cross the Jordan into the promised land. Can we claim the instructions as our own? Why not - we claim Jesus' words to the disciples as ours all the time.
   So does one need to be constantly pleasing to God for him to show up (Brother Lawrence), or is God already present, and we need to find strength and courage (Deut 31:6) in the Lord?
   I prefer the latter; I’m no more disciplined in my focus on God than I am on setting aside time for devotions and prayer. Besides, it’s uplifting to know I’m never alone, never abandoned or forsaken by God.
   And if someone asks me who’s there, I can always say, “Us.”

 

 

 

 

 

Condemnation

I know. John 8:1-11 wasn't in the "earliest manuscripts," but it was part of my devotional readings for today, so read it I did. The passage about the woman caught in adultery still brought to mind the same questions a lot of people express : "Where was the guy, if she was caught in the act?" "What was Jesus writing in the dirt, anyway?" And finally the conclusion most come to after reading it: Jesus forgave this woman; and they add her to the list of all the other people Jesus forgave. But a closer reading says the forgiveness was implicit. "Go and sin no more" suggests  she wasn't exactly clothed in righteousness when she was caught out, but Jesus didn't explicitly forgive her. The real emphasis is on the word "condemnation." Jesus says, "Who is left to condemn you? ... Neither do I."

Paul says, "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." We usually think of condemnation, in its religious context, as the accusation of sin, backed up by some kind of witness. In this case it had more immediate consequences. The condemnation and the testimony of witnesses against her would result in her being stoned to death. It wasn't the forgiveness per se that was at the heart of this conversation, it was the fact that Jesus saved her from death. And not an easy one, if her accusers postponed aiming for her head. In reality she owed Jesus, who shamed the teachers of the law and the Pharisees into backing  off, her life.

It isn't much of a leap to conclude that this became one more mark against Jesus when it came time to have him tried. Pharisees and teachers of the law who could recall the words of Moses in great detail would have no trouble remembering the times Jesus had pestered them until they had let other sinners off the hook. Let them off, but not forgotten the humiliation. Those memories helped seal Jesus' eventual crucifixion and death.

The New Testament writers brought it full circle. Jesus' lack of condemnation and his defense of them frees them from the sentence of death. It's not a bad way to begin the day.
Pastor Mike

Truckin' to Oregon

It's been a busy week. Driving to Oregon with my son David was a highlight. I rented a truck in Colorado Springs and friends helped load it with furnishings from our home to take to the townhouse in McMinnville. David flew to Colorado to help me make the 1500 mile drive. I attended a seminar on worship some years ago, and the presenter asked each of us to complete the sentence, "Writing a sermon is like ..." I wrote, "Driving across Wyoming." I should have added, "In a 28' truck." Both can feel endless. But David made the trip much more enjoyable. We regularly took turns driving and did a lot of catching up, not only through Wyoming but Utah, Nevada, and finally Oregon.

Now it's time to unpack, pray for Margie and Steve to arrive safely from Colorado Springs, and begin the work of Interim Pastor at First Baptist Church of McMinnville. The staff and leadership team have been most helpful as we prepare together for this congregation to make the transition from one pastor to the next. I attribute this willingness to the work of God's Spirit - equipping us to move forward, and shaping hearts, minds, skills, and the cohesiveness of community - as we celebrate Pentecost together at the start of a new ministry.  

Christian Practices - Forgiveness

What do you need to do to receive God's forgiveness? What do others need to do to receive yours?

In the years after 586 BC, the populace of Jerusalem finds itself in trouble. The Temple has been destroyed and much of the population has been carried into captivity in Babylon. The dilemma it faces is this. The Temple, the dwelling of God, is no more. With no Temple there is no opportunity for sacrifice, and thus no way to find reconciliation with God. In the face of their hopelessness and despair  Ezekiel, priest turned prophet, challenges the former approach to reassurance. By steering away from retelling the old stories of God's mighty works, he turns instead to relating the true nature of the Judeans. They have taken God for granted, worshiping idols and playing fast and loose with God's mercy. This offense to God has resulted in their exile.

The path to restoration, according to Ezekiel, lies in awareness of sin, repentance, and the formation of communities (which will become the synagogues that replace the Temple) that hold dear the word of the Lord. The Lord gives Ezekiel  a scroll and instructs him to eat the words so they become part of him, and then to proclaim the words to the House of Israel in captivity. And as a counterpoint to the words of judgment and condemnation there is hope:    

"This is what the Sovereign Lord  says: 'I will gather you from the nations and bring you back from the countries where you have been scattered, and I will give you back the land of Israel again.'

 "They will return to it and remove all its vile images and detestable idols.  I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh." (Ezek 11:17-19)

It really is another hint we have that God's interest lies in spiritual rather than legalistic renewal. What Israel needed – what we need – is the heart of God within us. What Israel needed – what we need – is God's forgiveness. And that’s the promise: “I will bring Judah and Israel back from captivity and will rebuild them as they were before.  I will cleanse them from all the sin they have committed against me and will forgive all their sins of rebellion against me.  Then this city will bring me renown, joy, praise and honor before all nations on earth that hear of all the good things I do for it; and they will be in awe and will tremble at the abundant prosperity and peace I provide for it.“ (Jer 33:7-9)

And so Jesus comes granting forgiveness to the paralytic (Mark 2:1 ff) and instructs the disciples to forgive repeatedly (Matt 18:21ff). Why is that so challenging? Peter asks, “How often must I forgive my brother?” (Not “how often am I allowed to forgive him”!) Jesus basically responds by saying, "There is no limit," and later prays that God will forgive the crowd that crucifies him (Luke 23:34). And as with the paralytic and others, he does so before they ask, and before they repent.

God  insists that we forgive and love unconditionally. At times it sounds conditional. 

“Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.  And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins." (Mark 11:24-25)

But in what sense? That God is some sort of accountant, keeping records of our actions and dealing out reward or punishment in turn?

More correctly, we simply cannot understand the forgiveness of God until we have pursued it ourselves. We are encouraged to experience how hard it is to forgive the ones who insult us, steal our material goods, threaten or take the lives of our loved ones, by forgiving them and loving them before they love us. We may not be successful, but we're to try, with God's help, repeatedly. From the counter-intuitive perspective of the Gospel it is forgiveness that leads to repentance, and not the other way around. In other words, we are called to respond to those around us with the heart of God. Then we begin to grasp the depth of God's sacrificial love for us so we can make it our own.

Christian Practices - Hospitality

Martin Copenhaver argues that no Christian practice is more necessary today than hospitality.[1] He points out that in Biblical times it was common practice to offer hospitality, because travel in the ancient east was so dangerous. You were morally obligated to supply food and safe travel to a stranger – or an enemy – who came to your door asking for help or shelter. Marjorie Thompson says, “All sorts of people had to travel at times through ‘enemy territory,’ which meant that hospitality to strangers was a matter of mutual survival.”[2] Or as Copenhaver puts it, “Remember that the next time you may be the stranger in need of hospitality. This time you may be the host, but next time you may be the guest.  … It is a reminder that you never know which role you may be required to play next.”

“To understand why I would say that,” says Copenhaver, “I think we need only consider some of the elements of hospitality. For one, we are hospitable when we welcome someone to a safe place. To be sure, we do not live under the same threats as ancient near east travelers. Nevertheless, there are still so few safe places in our own time.

Safety means freedom – as President Roosevelt put it, freedom from want, from fear, freedom of worship, of speech. Churches can offer that kind of freedom. My youth group in high school was a safe place, away from competition, being belittled, freeing all in our group to explore who we were for one another and for God. A critical moment for us came when we asked our youth minister if we could have communion when the group next met – in a private home. As far as he knew the group had never been permitted to do that before, but he knew of no reason why we couldn’t. So we did. It was a most intimate, sacred moment.

Copenhaver points out that some individuals are themselves a kind of place where you can feel safe enough to let down your guard and be yourself. Their hearts are like sanctuaries. He says Henri Nouwen put it this way: “Hospitality means primarily the creation of a free space... The paradox of hospitality is that it wants to create emptiness, not a fearful emptiness, but a friendly emptiness where strangers can enter and discover themselves as created free, free to sing their own songs, speak their own languages, dance their own dances.”

For Copenhaver, hospitality, welcoming the stranger, also means accepting differences. He recalls Will Rogers being remembered for saying, “There are no strangers, just friends I haven’t met yet.” But there are some strangers we would not choose as friends. Perhaps they are strange. But hospitality insists that they be welcomed in and they are not asked to change.

This can be a most difficult task for church people. We operate conditionally in the world, and it carries over into the community of faith. Our inclination is to welcome the stranger, but to do so with our hidden agendas. We invite them in on the condition that within a reasonable amount of time they (take  a shower) (accept Christ) (learn English) (be baptized). We are willing to accept them as they are for a while, but eventually they need to come around. True hospitality makes no such demands.

Copenhaver finally defines generosity as a mark of hospitality. “ I don’t mean the kind of generosity that leads us to share a little bit of what we have with others. Rather, true hospitality requires that we begin to loosen the grip of those distinctions between what is mine and what is yours.” He relates the story in Genesis:

In Copenhaver’s words, Abraham sees three men, three strangers approaching his tent. He doesn’t even wait for them to arrive. Instead, he runs out to meet them and says, “My lords, if I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and a morsel of bread—just a morsel—that you may refresh yourselves, for I am your servant.” And then, once Abraham is on the other side of the tent door, he says to Sarah, “Quick, get three big sacks of flour and make cakes.” He takes a calf—the one he was saving for a grand occasion—and gives it to his servant to be prepared. Then Abraham takes milk and makes cheese. All of that without a pantry chef. When he is done, he lays the meal before his guests. (Mind you, this is before he knows who these guests are.) And Abraham stands by while the guests eat their fill of that “little morsel” he had promised them.

Copenhaver: “For the most part, we are not prepared to recognize the extent to which hospitality requires generosity. We are people who say in a thousand ways that good fences make good neighbors. What is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours. But the hospitable spirit says, What is mine is yours. The hospitable spirit holds possessions with open hands. Understood in this way, hospitality is not a trivial thing, but the quality on which the whole of Christian ethics rests.” In Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, the thief Jean Valjean is granted refuge in a mountain church, but awakens in the night to steal the church’s silver communion settings and run away. Dragged back by the police, he is taken to the priest, who says that the silver wasn’t stolen, but was a gift. And to Valjean: “Here. You forgot the candlesticks.”  

“The Hasidic masters tell the story of a rabbi who disappeared every Sabbath Eve to commune with God in the forest -- or so his congregation thought. Then one Sabbath night they sent one of their cantors to follow the rabbi and observe the holy encounter. Deeper and deeper into the woods the rabbi went until he came to the small cottage of an old Gentile woman, sick to death and crippled into a painful posture. Once there, the rabbi cooked for her and carried her firewood and swept her floor. When the chores were finished, he returned immediately to his little house next to the synagogue. Back in the village, the people demanded of the one they'd sent to follow him, "Did our rabbi go up to heaven as we thought?" "Oh, no," the cantor answered after a thoughtful pause, "our rabbi went much, much higher than that."”[3]  Hospitality is generous unconditional welcome – and generous service.

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[1] Copenhaver, Marvin B. “Practicing Our Faith – Entertain Angels.” Wellesley Congregational Church, March, 1999. Many thanks to Marvin for his attention to the Christian Practices, especially this sermon on hospitality. It and many other resources can be found on the website, http://www.practicingourfaith.org .

[2] Ibid

[3] Joan Chittister, from "There Is a Season," excerpted from Spiritual Literacy, Reading the Sacred in Everyday Life, p. 343, in Norfleet, Agnes W. “Practicing Hospitality” North Decatur Presbyterian Church Decatur, Georgia.

Christian Practices - Consumerism

 
Christian Practices are built on the notion that God encourages us to live out our lives in certain ways. Consumerism focuses on how we deal with stuff (material possessions) in ways that deepen our relationship with God, other people, and the whole created world. Christian practices can help us figure out the difference between good stuff and bad stuff and let go of stuff we don’t need. We're told to get jobs that will be fulfilling - monetarily fulfilling, socially fulfilling, stuff fulfilling.  You can't be whole without a lot of money, cars, getting all the new gadgets you can, at least one recreational vehicle, a TV in every room, and this list goes on.   A lot of us grew up thinking we needed to own certain things to be whole people. 

George Carlin says that for many the meaning of life is stuff. Carlin says, “A house is just a place with a lid on it to put your stuff,  while you go out and get more stuff. Sometimes you have to go get a bigger house so you can get even more stuff.”  He talks about going on vacation to visit other people and there is no place for your stuff  because their stuff is piled everywhere. If you get too much stuff you have to put some of it in storage. There’s a whole industry dedicated to piling up our stuff. When you go on vacation you have to bring some of your stuff with you. Not all of it. Just the stuff you need. Two bags, a carry-on and the stuff in your pockets. So even though you’re a long way from home you’re ok, because you still have some of your stuff.

So what is the deal?  What is this obsession over materials?  And how does being Christian fit in with it all?  How can we be a Christian in a society that insists that money is everything, social status is everything, and having everything we want is a normal feeling?  How do we balance career, family, goals, and being a Christian? What does the church say about stuff and money?

Think about how we use our money and stuff.  Do we hoard it?  Are we frivolously spending what we earn?  Are we willing to help those in need- whoever they are? And what about the Bible?  What does it have to say about money?  Jesus talks about money a lot, and in many different ways.  For example, we are told that a widow gives all that she has while others only give of some (Mark 12:41-44); a rich man is to give all that he has (Matthew 19:16-30, Mark 10:17-31, Luke 18:18-30); it is hard for a rich person to get into heaven (Mark 10:24-25, Luke 21:1-4); and that the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil (1 Timothy 6:10). 

Jesus tells this parable in Matthew 25:14-27:

14 "Again, it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted his property to them. 15 To one he gave five talents of money, to another two talents, and to another one talent, each according to his ability. Then he went on his journey. 16 The man who had received the five talents went at once and put his money to work and gained five more. 17 So also, the one with the two talents gained two more. 18 But the man who had received the one talent went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master's money.

19 "After a long time the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them. 20 The man who had received the five talents brought the other five. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with five talents. See, I have gained five more.' 21 "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!' 22 "The man with the two talents also came. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with two talents; see, I have gained two more.' 23 "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'

24 "Then the man who had received the one talent came. 'Master,' he said, 'I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. 25 So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.' 26 "His master replied, 'You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed? 27 Well then, you should have put my money on deposit with the bankers, so that when I returned I would have received it back with interest.

How would you summarize this teaching? In our culture, how do our possessions define us? How does Jesus define his servants?  We might be defined by the kind of car we drive, the clothes we wear, the house we live in. Jesus defines his servants on the basis of their willingness to risk for the benefit of their master.

Paul says to Timothy (1 Tim 6:17-19)

17 Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. 18 Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. 19 In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life.

Paul is affirming than an attitude of faith leads to a lifestyle of kindness, generosity, and sharing. What stands in the way of that lifestyle? What are the “realities” that cause us to hold back our resources for our own benefit?

Consumerism is about choices. We look for ways to be Christians in the world we live in, at home, in the work place, as we walk down the street, while we grocery shop.  In fact, the very stuff we have and the money we earn can be and is a part of how we can be and are Christians in the world.  And just because we do not have money or stuff to give to others, we always have ourselves to give. 

We use our gifts to help those in need, be it through our money, our stuff, or even our bare hands.  As we live and work in the world, we can be mindful of what we have been given and who has given these gifts to us.  And the best way to use these gifts is to share with those around us. We can share the stuff that we have, and the money we have earned, in a way that will serve God and serve other people in this world.  That is what God has given us:  the talents we bring to this world to use in our relationships, not only with God, but also with everyone we meet.  Ask yourself, how do I use my stuff, my money, my talents?  How can I use them to help out my fellow human being-no matter their background? Who is my neighbor?  How can I help those in need? 

Christian Practices - Sabbath

Lent is a time to take a broad view of our faith and the ways we practice it. Focusing on Christian Practices allows us to consider not just our heritage as believers, but also the manner in which we live out our lives in Christ. Craig Dykstra writes, "Christian practices are not activities we do to make something spiritual happen in our lives. Nor are they duties we undertake to be obedient to God. Rather, they are patterns of communal action that create openings in our lives where the grace, mercy, and presence of God may be made known to us. They are places where the power of God is experienced. In the end, these are not ultimately our practices but forms of participation in the practice of God."[i]

Giving attention to the Sabbath is a place to begin. Dorothy Bass explains, “Sabbath keeping is not about taking a day off but about being recalled to our knowledge of and gratitude for God's activity in creating the world, giving liberty to captives, and overcoming the powers of death.”[ii] In Judaism, Sabbath comes from the Hebrew shabbat, which means primarily to cease or desist. The Hebrews were instructed to cease work on the Sabbath – see Lev. 23:3 – in order to honor the covenant God. The key to experiencing the Sabbath is in recognizing the rhythm of once every seven days. There is relief in knowing that there is one day in every seven on which we can cease our working.

The message of Scripture is that our value lies not in what we produce or how much we have, but in the fact we are loved by God. Isaiah reminds us,” I have summoned you by name; you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.”  (Isa 43:1-4)

A second meaning  of the Hebrew verb shabbat is “to rest.” A day of complete physical rest gives us extra strength for the tasks of the other six days. Many times Jesus insisted on time apart from his disciples and the crowds. It gave him opportunity for prayer and time with God. To give ourselves a day’s break from emotional and intellectual problems enables us to come back to them with fresh perspectives, creative insights, and renewed spirits.

Practicing Sabbath allows us to stop worrying about accumulating more and to embrace the values of the Kingdom of God. The grace of God offers stability for our lives; the word of God provides authority; the fellowship of the church offers intimacy. These supports help us find a sense of order, direction and hope in a chaotic world. What would it take for you to practice Sabbath for a day, a half-day, or even two hours a week?

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[i] Dykstra, Craig  Practicingourfaith.org

[ii] Bass, Dorothy C  Ibid