Thursday, July 18, 2019

Ruth and Refugio



It is tempting, reading the Book of Ruth, to absorb the story in charmed, dreamlike terms. Here is Ruth, the beautiful young woman, recently widowed but dedicated to her mother-in-law, Naomi. Lovely and captivating, she rejects her Moabite background to accompany Naomi, also widowed, back to Bethlehem in Israel. Israel, occupying the moral high ground, where anyone would prefer to live. She seems the epitome of a girl at peace. 
Or perhaps not.
In her treatise on “Hospitality” (Dorothy Bass, Practicing our Faith) Ana Maria Pineda tells the story of Refugio, who fled an abusive marriage in Central America with her three small children. She had been beaten regularly, but had remained in the marriage until her husband began beating the children;  finally she gathered the courage to leave. It was risky. Her husband was a town leader and his family would go to great lengths to protect his reputation. All signs of impropriety were suppressed. Her departure would, in their eyes, dishonor him, and they would go to great lengths to prevent it.
After weeks of indecision she recalled the name of a relative who had left the village a few years before to live in the United States. She discretely managed to locate and contact him, sharing her dilemma and asking for his help. Finally a cryptic message arrived giving her directions for travelling to a city in the US. It would be less dangerous, he said, if she avoided the town where he lived.
Pineda says, “At the designated hour she and her children boarded a small van. They crouched down as they were driven across the US border. From there, they traveled for what seemed an eternity. Refugio was filled with self-doubt. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea to leave her husband. What would she do in this strange land? She could not speak the language. She did not have much money, and what would she do once it was spent? As the children began to fret and cry, her fear increased, and she felt helpless to assure them that all would be well. Finally, overcome by weariness, Refugio fell asleep.”
Now consider Ruth, encouraged to return to her family. But she will be excluded and shamed for marrying a foreigner, someone outside the tribe. She has dishonored her family and she will be dishonored in turn. To go back is dangerous, to go to Israel is equally perilous. Her sister decides to return and face whatever consequences await. Ruth determines to stay with the threat she knows.
But it isn’t easy. Naomi tries over and over to dissuade her. “No, you can’t come. No, stay here. No, stop following me.” But Ruth says in effect, “I’m coming. No matter where I go, my life is forfeit. I’m coming with you. Your God will be my God.”
And so they straggle into town, Ruth following at a distance while Naomi grieves her widowhood and the unfairness of God toward her. The people of Bethlehem don’t recognize her. “Can this be Naomi? She doesn’t look like Naomi. Too distraught!”
 “Don’t call me Naomi,” she tells them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”
After they arrive Ruth determines to pay her way, Naomi being without financial support. But the work at the barley harvest can be a dangerous as well. Especially with the gleaners, who are more than willing to take advantage of a young single woman. But she ends up in a field belonging to Boaz, a relative, who asks, “Who does that young woman belong to?” He instructs her to stay close to the women working there and says, “I have told the men not to lay a hand on you.” Because they might try; otherwise why mention it? So Ruth, and by association Naomi, have fallen under the protection of Boaz. She asks him, “Why have I found such favor in your eyes that you notice me—a foreigner?”
Boaz replies, “I’ve been told all about what you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband—how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.”
Refugio: Delivered safely to Little Havana, she awakens to tranquility in a sleepy neighborhood that bids her welcome, offering her a place to rest, and to live.  
Ruth (or is she also Refugio, the refugee?): Delivered safely to Bethlehem, a sleepy village. She has followed in the wake of bitter grieving Naomi, wondering, perhaps, whether the townspeople there will simply imprison her for a while and then snatch her back to Moab because, after all, she is a foreigner. It is fortuitous that she instead lives in safety beneath the wings of the Lord/Boaz. It leaves one wondering whose protection she would fall under today if she were to follow her mother-in-law across our southern border.







Fragile Freedoms II


As we consider the values that shape our church life together it seems appropriate to mention two aspects of freedom lifted up by Walter Shurden in his book, Four Fragile Freedoms
Church Freedomis the “… affirmation that local churches are free, under the Lordship of Christ, to determine their membership and leadership, to order their worship and work, to ordain whom they perceive as gifted for ministry, male or female, and to participate in the larger Body of Christ…”
Religious Freedomis the “historic … affirmation of freedom of religion, freedom for religion, and freedom from religion, insisting that Caesar is not Christ and Christ is not Caesar.” (In a previous article I mentioned two others, Soul FreedomandBible Freedom.) 

Quaker history isn’t identical to Baptist history, the perspective from which Shurden writes. It is, however, complimentary to Baptist identity. It can be said without question that the “fragile freedoms” Shurden identifies were, and still are, compatible in many ways with Quaker philosophy and practice.
George Fox founded the Religious Society of Friends, or Quakers, in the 17thcentury in England. Those in the movement were persecuted for their beliefs, which included the idea that the presence, or “light,” of God exists in every person. This conviction, along with the Quaker rejection of elaborate religious ceremonies and official clergy, contrasted sharply with prevailing Christian theology. 
Both Protestant and Catholic churches insisted that children were born in a state of sin, dependent on the reception of the Holy Spirit as an affirmation of God’s presence in their lives. It was the role of the church to usher in the Spirit via infant baptism, preferably right away. Otherwise they might die early and salvation would be impossible. To suggest that God could be resident without such intervention was considered blasphemous, and was firmly rejected. Baptists, who clashed with clerical power primarily over their opposition to infant baptism, were imprisoned in the colonies over this issue.
The Quakers ran afoul of another conviction. It was that every individual had the light of God within them. Not only did they reject infant baptism. They denied the power of the clergy and the church to determine where God would take up residence. 
Quakers, then, as inhabitants of both England and the New World, didn’t have official clergy and believed in spiritual equality for men and women. They played a key role in both abolition and women’s rights movements. In some quarters they did not consider themselves Christians.
A current example of Church Freedom arises when we consider the formation of NEFC in its separation from NFC. Without the guarantee of church freedom it could be said that NFC had no “right” to exclude certain members, and likewise NEFC had no “right” to form a separate congregation. Those actions would be viewed as illegal. I have no idea which religious group holds the record for the most church splits in history, but I doubt any party could outdo the Baptists. They might be viewed as the Church Split Experts.
Quakers have traditionally practiced pacifism, insistence on male and female spiritual equality, the refusal to take oaths, and the right of women to speak out during worship. (This last is still a point of contention in both Catholic and some Protestant circles when those pesky women just refuse to remain silent.)
From a broadened perspective it could be said that the idea of religious freedom and the resistance to it is primarily a power struggle. That was the case in Colonial America where Anglican, Puritan, and Congregational churches initially held sway. Most attempted to enforce strict religious observance, with colony governments and town rules mandatingthat everyone attend a house of worship and pay taxes that funded the salaries of ministers. Thus before colonial independence and the passage of constitutional amendments some persecution was common. 
Both Quakers and Baptists were initially targeted. Later it was Mormons, Christian Scientists, and Native Americans. Today Muslims are in the crosshairs. Ideally we are a free people who celebrate our religious freedom and honor and defend the freedom of others. Often, however, it falls to Quakers (and Baptists too) to defend those ideals.
At NEFC we have been exploring the implications of a Trinitarian understanding of God. It is one that suggests a meeting of individualism and corporate identity. Shurden identifies three basic types of church government among Christian churches. They are episcopal, presbyterian, and congregational. In episcopal church government, authority is placed in the hands of one person, usually a bishop. In presbyterian church government, authority is vested in a small group, often called elders within the local church. In congregational church government, authority is placed in the hands of all the members of the church.
As Shurden points out, those in the free church tradition, including Friends, practice democratic church polity not because it is more efficient or more reliable or even more biblical than other forms. In fact I suspect if a visiting Quaker told you the “Quaker Way” was more efficient than other approaches, you might wonder which congregation they were previously a part of.   Instead Quakers follow democratic church polity because it accents the role of the individual within community, allowing the greatest freedom for the greatest number of people to have a say. Moreover, democratic church polity is a statement of the equality of all believers in determining the mind of Christ.
When Quakers (and Baptists) began in seventeenth-century England, a crucial part of their cry for freedom was the determination to worship God according to conscience. Specifically, they wanted freedom from the set forms of Anglicanism as recorded in The Book of Common Prayer. Their aim was to personalize and revitalize worship.  At NEFC, Open Worship sets the stage for vital worship. It offers each of us occasions to hear God’s voice not only for us as individuals, but for the congregation as a whole.



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References
Shurden, Walter B.. The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms (p. 45). Smyth & Helwys Publishing. Kindle Edition.




Independence Day

It seems appropriate, closely following Independence Day, to talk about freedom. In a recent business meeting at our church there was discussion about the future name of the congregation. One agreement seemed to surface among those present, that the name should somehow reflect the inclusiveness we value as a congregation. I raise the issue as one, along with my family, who has recently been inclused (oops, included) in the life of the church. That experience has encouraged me to describe the other side of the coin, so to speak. Many of you relate to the value of inclusion as those who do the including. Others of us, and I would hope many still to come, relate as its recipients.
We arrived in Newberg after a rather circuitous geographical journey as American Baptists, serving in pastoral roles in Lyndhurst, OH, Berwyn, IL, Medford, OR, and Colorado Springs, CO. We ended the excursion nearby where I served as Interim Pastor at McMinnville First Baptist Church. Then, thanks to my daughter and her family’s attendance here, we landed at Newberg Friends. Having arrived from FBC McMinnville, an outspoken supporter in American Baptist circles of LGBTQ individuals, we unquestioningly stayed with NEFC when divisions arose.
I think it has been a smooth transition. At no point have we been shunned because we didn’t have a Quaker last name, nor because you suspected us of being furtive Southern Baptist spies. My biggest challenge, and I suspect it is a trial for any newcomer without a Quaker background, was figuring out the rules of social engagement. Language is fundamental. I attended an early Communications Committee meeting (are they “committees”?) where I inquired about the timetable for selecting a new church name. Others explained that timetables weren’t the “Quaker way” and the new name would be suggested and agreed on at the right time. Frankly I’d had little experience with patiently waiting for the Spirit to move. The two guides to faith and practice I depended on were the Bible and the Calendar.
Some of you have eased the way. Howard Macy and David Sherwood have been most good-natured in guiding me along under the new rules of the road. At one point I asked whether it was expected for the pastor to relate his or her personal experience during the sermon (oopsagain: teaching) because I’d heard Greg and Steve and Elizabeth do so consistently. American Baptist pastors are usually content to use examples from other people’s lives and avoid personal history. If it was righteous it might sound like bragging, and if it was sinful you could be accused of being, well, sinful. Howard assured me personal history wasn’t demanded, but it was acceptable.
In sum we have been welcomed and embraced whole-heartedly, and feel blessed to be with you. One lingering question for me, then, is “What do we bring to the table?” Let me suggest some values that support and may enrich those being considered by the congregation. They come from a book by Walter B. Shurden, Executive Director of the Center for Baptist Studies at Mercer University, titled The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 1993). Two of the freedoms he identifies are:

Bible Freedom, the historic affirmation that the Bible, under the Lordship of Christ, must be central in the life of the individual and church and that Christians, with the best and most scholarly tools of inquiry, are both free and obligated to study and obey the Scripture.

Soul Freedom, the historic affirmation of the inalienable right and responsibility of every person to deal with God without the imposition of creed, the interference of clergy, or the intervention of civil government.

According to Shurden these values describe
·      members of the whole Christian family who stress the experience of personal salvation through faith in Jesus;
·      those who under the Lordship of Jesus Christ have bonded together in free local congregations, together seeking to obey Christ in faith and in life;
·      those who follow the authority of Scriptures in all matters of faith and practice;
·      those who have claimed religious liberty for themselves and all people;
·      those who believe that the Great Commission to take the Gospel to the whole world is the responsibility of the whole membership.

So while “What do I bring to the table?” may be a pressing question, the overriding issue is “Who am I in this place?” For many people their identity is centered on racial heritage or sexual preference, political persuasion or occupation. “I identify as a white male;” or “I identify as a teacher.” To me it seems preferable to say, “We are part of a congregation who believe that as individuals we have come to put our trust in God and confess Christ as Savior and Lord, accepting the Scriptures as our guide for faith and practice.” Plus I am almost ready to say I identify as a Quaker. Almost.
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