When I was in seminary, the institution I attended experienced a radical shift to the far right. During those days I witnessed a theological battle that still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. On one particularly rough day, my Hebrew professor came into class and made one statement that has stuck with me ever since. “Theology is never the issue. It is always the weapon. Power is the real issue”
I have often pondered those words, and particularly when I witness or hear of Christians using theology, and by this I mean what they consider orthodox theology, to oppress and exclude others by denying people their rights as human beings and their full participation in the body of Christ. While I could write in general concerning the violent tendencies of religious ideologies in all religions, including Christianity, I want to address here a more underlying and yet ever present force that some use to strengthen their long held prejudices.
In his book, When Religion Becomes Evil, religious scholar and Baptist theologian Charles Kimball lays out five warning signs for when religious perspectives have gone too far and are on the brink of becoming evil. I don’t have the time or space to detail each of the five warning signs suggested by Kimball, but the first in order is what he defines as “absolute truth claims”. By absolute truth claims, Kimball means, “particular interpretations…which become propositions requiring uniform assent and are treated as rigid doctrines.” Kimball goes on to argue that once we have established such truth claims, we can then justify our actions, any of our actions.
Of course, history has shown this to be true across the religious spectrum, as all kinds of atrocities have been executed in the name of religious truth claims. But even within the bounds of contemporary Christianity, and particularly conservative Christianity, we have witnessed beliefs and acts that though not violent, they are nonetheless mean-spirited and harmful forms of exclusion and repression.
One pertinent example is the prohibition against female pastors in the Southern Baptist Convention, as well as in other denominations. This represents a form of exclusion that denies one gender the right and privilege to serve a calling from God that is as equally valid as that issued to males. While those holding a position that forbids women from serving as pastors claim that their position considers women as equal in essence to men, they deny that females are equal in the role they play in the church, particularly in leadership positions. But such religious chauvinism has not stopped at banning women from the pulpit.
In recent years there has been a robust and calculated push to put women under the rule of their husbands. Instead of affirming the biblical egalitarian view that sees husbands and wives as equal and co-submissive to each other, this position claims that even in the modern world men should rule women and specifically in the confines of marriage. Tragically, one Southern Baptist theologian recently suggested in a sermon that some spousal abuse is the fault of women who do not submit to the rule of their husbands. His rationale is that when a husband’s leadership is threatened by a wife who is not submissive, that husband may respond with abuse. He clearly places the blame on the woman.
Gender inequality in the home and in the church, as well as other issues of inequality and repression, represent the idea that theology can be a powerful weapon of authoritarianism. While we can and do disagree on theological issues, they should not be used as litmus tests of orthodoxy and should not be used to deny persons their rights to live as they believe God intended them. Neither we nor our narrow authoritative interpretations of Scripture can stand in judgment of others. Only God is our judge.
Asserting absolute truth claims that are not central to the faith and that lead to the exclusion and repression of others is not the witness of the gospel to which Jesus has called us. The gospel’s truth cannot be communicated through propositions or prohibitions, especially when such propositions and prohibitions shackle people. The gospel is best communicated through acts of love and compassion and through attitudes of openness and humility. Love is the fulfillment of the law of God and love bears witness to the grace of God that calls all of us to put down our theological weapons and relinquish our power over others.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Good Samaritan Teaches That There Are No Limits To Our Community
The Parable of the Good Samaritan is one of the most familiar and beloved parables told by Jesus. Yet the danger in knowing the story too well is that we have often understood the story apart from its original social context, leading us to miss the shock the parable had on its first audience. While the parable can stand on its own as a good story about one person showing compassion to another, hearing it as the first hearers did opens to us the real sting of the tale.
Luke, the only evangelist to tell the parable, narrates that a man approached Jesus asking, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?" Underlying the man’s inquiry is an attitude of self-service, for it appears that his question sounds more like, “What is the least I have to do to ensure that I have eternal life?” The man’s motivation appears not to be a desire to love God or others, but rather a need to satisfy his own eternal security.
In response to the man’s query, Jesus invites him to answer his own question by asking, "What is written in the law?" The man replies with theological accuracy, quoting what every Hebrew knew from childhood, that the law is summed up as a dual command to love God and to love one’s neighbor. In response to the man’s answer, Jesus affirms his orthodox statement and assures the man that if he does this he will indeed have eternal life.
The man’s next question, “Who is my neighbor?” seems innocent at first, but since Luke tells us that the man was seeking to justify himself, we might presume that in asking the question, the man desired to limit his neighborly community. In other words, the man’s real question might be, “Who am I required to love in order to gain eternal life?” It is this question that prompts Jesus to tell his shocking parable.
The tale begins with a man traveling on the treacherous road from Jerusalem to Jericho, where he is attacked by robbers and left for dead. By chance, a priest passes by the man without helping. Likewise, a Levite sidesteps the victim. The man who questioned Jesus is probably elated that neither of these religious officials stopped to help, for he himself is not a priest nor a Levite; he is a lawyer and not a temple official.
Yet, the man knows that to resolve the story there must appear a third character and perhaps he thinks that this third character in the story should be a person like himself; the one that would stop and help his fellow Judean. Yet, to the dismay of the man, the third character is a Samaritan. Why does Jesus choose a Samaritan, and how does this shock the audience?
The Samaritans were considered by most Judeans as an inferior race. They were believed to be descended from Israelites who had intermarried with other nations after being exiled to Assyria in 722 B.C.E. While Samaritans claimed the Torah as their law, Judeans did not view them any better than they viewed Gentiles. In the minds of Judeans, Samaritans were half-breeds.
The shock and offensiveness of Jesus’ parable, then, is that the unlikely hero of the story is not a racially pure Hebrew, but a member of a people believed to be lesser and impure. Indeed, the man is so shocked by this turn of events that in response to Jesus’ question, “Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor to the man?" the man cannot even utter the word Samaritan, but simply replies, “The one who showed him compassion.”
In response to the man’s answer, Jesus commands, “Go and do likewise.” Jesus is telling the man, “This Samaritan has set for you the example of what it is to be a neighbor to others, for he has widened his neighborly community to include someone who hates him and someone he has been taught to despise.” If the lawyer truly desires to have eternal life, he must become like the Samaritan he loathes.
What the Samaritan’s action teaches us is that there are no limits to our neighborly community. Yes, the story has been used to speak about how we are to show compassion towards others. But this interpretation only serves to reinforce our assumptions that if we do acts of service towards others, we are living out the moral of the parable. But this is only partly true.
In showing compassion to someone from a race that despised his own, and one which I am sure he had been taught to hate, the Samaritan put away those prejudices that may have caused him to pass by like the priest and the Levite, and he widened his own conception of who was his neighbor. His generous act was more than a one-time act of compassion. His good deed reflected a deeper understanding of who he believed was a neighbor in his community.
Luke, the only evangelist to tell the parable, narrates that a man approached Jesus asking, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?" Underlying the man’s inquiry is an attitude of self-service, for it appears that his question sounds more like, “What is the least I have to do to ensure that I have eternal life?” The man’s motivation appears not to be a desire to love God or others, but rather a need to satisfy his own eternal security.
In response to the man’s query, Jesus invites him to answer his own question by asking, "What is written in the law?" The man replies with theological accuracy, quoting what every Hebrew knew from childhood, that the law is summed up as a dual command to love God and to love one’s neighbor. In response to the man’s answer, Jesus affirms his orthodox statement and assures the man that if he does this he will indeed have eternal life.
The man’s next question, “Who is my neighbor?” seems innocent at first, but since Luke tells us that the man was seeking to justify himself, we might presume that in asking the question, the man desired to limit his neighborly community. In other words, the man’s real question might be, “Who am I required to love in order to gain eternal life?” It is this question that prompts Jesus to tell his shocking parable.
The tale begins with a man traveling on the treacherous road from Jerusalem to Jericho, where he is attacked by robbers and left for dead. By chance, a priest passes by the man without helping. Likewise, a Levite sidesteps the victim. The man who questioned Jesus is probably elated that neither of these religious officials stopped to help, for he himself is not a priest nor a Levite; he is a lawyer and not a temple official.
Yet, the man knows that to resolve the story there must appear a third character and perhaps he thinks that this third character in the story should be a person like himself; the one that would stop and help his fellow Judean. Yet, to the dismay of the man, the third character is a Samaritan. Why does Jesus choose a Samaritan, and how does this shock the audience?
The Samaritans were considered by most Judeans as an inferior race. They were believed to be descended from Israelites who had intermarried with other nations after being exiled to Assyria in 722 B.C.E. While Samaritans claimed the Torah as their law, Judeans did not view them any better than they viewed Gentiles. In the minds of Judeans, Samaritans were half-breeds.
The shock and offensiveness of Jesus’ parable, then, is that the unlikely hero of the story is not a racially pure Hebrew, but a member of a people believed to be lesser and impure. Indeed, the man is so shocked by this turn of events that in response to Jesus’ question, “Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor to the man?" the man cannot even utter the word Samaritan, but simply replies, “The one who showed him compassion.”
In response to the man’s answer, Jesus commands, “Go and do likewise.” Jesus is telling the man, “This Samaritan has set for you the example of what it is to be a neighbor to others, for he has widened his neighborly community to include someone who hates him and someone he has been taught to despise.” If the lawyer truly desires to have eternal life, he must become like the Samaritan he loathes.
What the Samaritan’s action teaches us is that there are no limits to our neighborly community. Yes, the story has been used to speak about how we are to show compassion towards others. But this interpretation only serves to reinforce our assumptions that if we do acts of service towards others, we are living out the moral of the parable. But this is only partly true.
In showing compassion to someone from a race that despised his own, and one which I am sure he had been taught to hate, the Samaritan put away those prejudices that may have caused him to pass by like the priest and the Levite, and he widened his own conception of who was his neighbor. His generous act was more than a one-time act of compassion. His good deed reflected a deeper understanding of who he believed was a neighbor in his community.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
“Patriotism is not Enough”
Several years ago, while on a family trip to London, we were making our way up from Trafalgar Square to St. Martin’s Place. As we headed toward the National Portrait Gallery, I glanced at one of the many statues that surround this area of Britain’s capital. My glance at the stone monument, however, quickly turned into an intense focus and reflection on the words below the figure carved there. The words read, “Patriotism is not enough.” The woman whose representation was situated atop that citation was Edith Cavell.
I later discovered that Edith Cavell had been a nurse in Brussels during WWI, and that she had been executed by the German army in 1915 for helping Allied troops escape German occupied Belgium. But I also discovered something about her that brought a sense of meaning to the words inscribed on her monument; words she apparently spoke to a minister on the night before her death. Edith Cavell had not only assisted Allied soldiers during the First World War, she had also given aid and comfort to German troops, the very enemy of her home country of Britain. And on the eve of her death, she expressed her rationale for doing so; “Patriotism is not enough, I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone."
While reflecting on these simple words, I have often felt that Christians have become too ingrained in American patriotism that we have lost a sense of identity and mission that views God as the God of all humanity and that witnesses to Jesus’ love for all, friends and enemies. There is a great danger to the church and its bold witness of the gospel to our world if we continue to blur the lines of division between patriotic loyalty to country and faithfulness to Christ. When we do so we run the grave risk of allowing American culture to influence, weaken, and indeed, supersede the church’s prophetic witness to the state.
This is why, as I have written before, we should not have symbols of our nation, including patriotic themes and songs, incorporated into our worship or our areas of sacred space. Doing so not only profanes the sacred time and sacred space of worship, it also brings into question and confuses our loyalties. The mixture of patriotic themes with Christian worship and witness reinforces beliefs that America and Christianity are inseparable, and that America is the Christian nation.
Moreover, if we celebrate patriotism within the context of Christian worship and practice, how does such a witness affect non-Americans? A pastor once shared with me that on a Sunday before Memorial Day, at the close of the worship service, the minister of worship lead the congregation in the singing of “God Bless America.” As the congregation sang this well known song, the pastor noticed many non-Americans in the audience and he noticed that they were not singing. They were not citizens of this country and this was not their song. The worship of God in Christian unity that had characterized the service to that point, ended on a patriotic note that excluded those who were not American.
We can certainly be good citizens of both the kingdom of God and America, for Christians are called to be salt and light in the world. And in a democracy where there is the free expression of religion, the church must participate in promoting just governmental policies for all. But our ultimate loyalty must be to the life and teachings of Christ, particularly his call for justice and peace for all people, especially toward the marginalized of our society.
If we are forced, as were early Christians, and as was Edith Cavell and Dietrich Bonheoffer, to choose between loyalty to Christ or loyalty to country, will we be able to distinguish between the two?
Loyalty to Christ means always choosing peace over war, love over hatred, poverty over wealth, forgiveness over revenge, and inclusion over nationalism. True freedom is found not in preserving security through power, war, or torture, but is discovered in being bound to Christ, his cross, and his gospel that extends beyond the boundaries of nation and culture to embrace the world.
As we celebrate Independence Day, let us do so with a sense of pride in what is good and right about America. But let us also witness boldly against America when policies and practices are put in place that are unjust and that ignore the gospel’s message of peace, justice, and life for all. We should always remember Nurse Cavell’s last words, and her life should cause us to consider the dangers inherent in uncritical and xenophobic patriotism. If we are to be faithful followers of the one who came to save the world, the words of Edith Cavell must become ours. “Patriotism is not enough.”
I later discovered that Edith Cavell had been a nurse in Brussels during WWI, and that she had been executed by the German army in 1915 for helping Allied troops escape German occupied Belgium. But I also discovered something about her that brought a sense of meaning to the words inscribed on her monument; words she apparently spoke to a minister on the night before her death. Edith Cavell had not only assisted Allied soldiers during the First World War, she had also given aid and comfort to German troops, the very enemy of her home country of Britain. And on the eve of her death, she expressed her rationale for doing so; “Patriotism is not enough, I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone."
While reflecting on these simple words, I have often felt that Christians have become too ingrained in American patriotism that we have lost a sense of identity and mission that views God as the God of all humanity and that witnesses to Jesus’ love for all, friends and enemies. There is a great danger to the church and its bold witness of the gospel to our world if we continue to blur the lines of division between patriotic loyalty to country and faithfulness to Christ. When we do so we run the grave risk of allowing American culture to influence, weaken, and indeed, supersede the church’s prophetic witness to the state.
This is why, as I have written before, we should not have symbols of our nation, including patriotic themes and songs, incorporated into our worship or our areas of sacred space. Doing so not only profanes the sacred time and sacred space of worship, it also brings into question and confuses our loyalties. The mixture of patriotic themes with Christian worship and witness reinforces beliefs that America and Christianity are inseparable, and that America is the Christian nation.
Moreover, if we celebrate patriotism within the context of Christian worship and practice, how does such a witness affect non-Americans? A pastor once shared with me that on a Sunday before Memorial Day, at the close of the worship service, the minister of worship lead the congregation in the singing of “God Bless America.” As the congregation sang this well known song, the pastor noticed many non-Americans in the audience and he noticed that they were not singing. They were not citizens of this country and this was not their song. The worship of God in Christian unity that had characterized the service to that point, ended on a patriotic note that excluded those who were not American.
We can certainly be good citizens of both the kingdom of God and America, for Christians are called to be salt and light in the world. And in a democracy where there is the free expression of religion, the church must participate in promoting just governmental policies for all. But our ultimate loyalty must be to the life and teachings of Christ, particularly his call for justice and peace for all people, especially toward the marginalized of our society.
If we are forced, as were early Christians, and as was Edith Cavell and Dietrich Bonheoffer, to choose between loyalty to Christ or loyalty to country, will we be able to distinguish between the two?
Loyalty to Christ means always choosing peace over war, love over hatred, poverty over wealth, forgiveness over revenge, and inclusion over nationalism. True freedom is found not in preserving security through power, war, or torture, but is discovered in being bound to Christ, his cross, and his gospel that extends beyond the boundaries of nation and culture to embrace the world.
As we celebrate Independence Day, let us do so with a sense of pride in what is good and right about America. But let us also witness boldly against America when policies and practices are put in place that are unjust and that ignore the gospel’s message of peace, justice, and life for all. We should always remember Nurse Cavell’s last words, and her life should cause us to consider the dangers inherent in uncritical and xenophobic patriotism. If we are to be faithful followers of the one who came to save the world, the words of Edith Cavell must become ours. “Patriotism is not enough.”
Thursday, June 26, 2008
James Dobson Misrepresents Barack Obama’s Views on Religion
This past week, Dr. James Dobson, Founder of Focus on the Family, used his organization’s radio broadcast to criticize a speech on religion and politics given by presidential candidate Barack Obama two years ago. Before commenting on Dobson’s remarks about Obama’s speech, I must admit that I stopped paying attention to Dobson a long time ago. While I had been introduced to him when I grew up in a fundamentalist church, a church that took every word he said as “gospel truth”, I came to find his rhetoric often divisive, unreasonable and unhelpful for making real contributions to the common good.
Yet this past week, when I learned of his criticism of Obama’s speech, I took a few minutes to listen to Dobson’s program and to re-read Obama’s speech. On the broadcast, Dobson and Tom Minnery, Focus on the Family’s Vice President of Public Policy, played snippets of Obama’s speech on religion and offered their observations. What is interesting is that Obama made this speech in June of 2006 and Dobson is just now publicly commenting on the address. What drew Dobson to make his remarks, however, is even more interesting.
Obama referenced Dobson’s name in his speech along with making mention of Rev. Al Sharpton in the same context. Obama referred to the two religious leaders as a way of demonstrating the diversity within the Christian faith in America. Dobson and Minnery, however, accused Obama of attacking Dobson, even suggesting that Obama equated Dobson with racial bigotry. Yet, no common sense person who reads or hears the speech would understand Obama’s mention of Dobson as disparaging of him. Obama does not come close to attacking Dobson.
This deliberate misrepresentation of Obama’s mention of Dobson’s name, however, serves as the Focus on the Family leader’s entree into misleading his audience about Obama’s views on religion. Both Dobson and Minnery accuse Obama of diminishing religion and people of religious faith, particularly Christians. They also charge Obama with not acknowledging the strong Judeo-Christian tradition of this country. Yet, Obama says nothing close to this. In fact, he is clear to argue that religion has played and continues to play a significant role in this country and in the moral choices of people of faith. Far from neglecting the religious tradition embedded in America’s history, Obama affirmed that “the majority of great reformers in American history” were “motivated by faith.”
Mr. Obama also states, “Secularists are wrong when they ask believers to leave their religion at the door before entering the public square.” He goes on to clarify, “So, to say that men and women should not inject their “personal morality” into the public policy debates is a practical absurdity.” These statements, and others like them, demonstrate not only Obama’s strong support of people of faith and his encouragement of religious ideas in the public arena; they also shine a bright light on the darkness of Dobson’s misrepresentation of Obama’s speech.
But Dobson continued to ridicule Obama’s speech by suggesting that Obama has a lack of respect for the Bible itself. Dobson comments, “he's (Obama) deliberately distorting the traditional understanding of the Bible to fit his own world view, his own confused theology.” Yet, what Obama does in the part of the speech where he talks about the Bible is to ask the honest question concerning the use of the Bible as a basis for our moral debates. Obama is not against using the Bible in this way. In fact, he calls for all of us to read our Bibles.
But he is saying that we would find it difficult, even if the entire American population only professed the Christian faith, to agree on what biblical passages, from the numerous and diverse moral statements in scripture, speak with greater authority on moral issues. Obama is far from disparaging of the Bible, as Dobson accused him. In fact, his view expresses the very nature and struggle of biblical interpretation to find an honest way to reconcile the ancient biblical witness with the moral questions of a modern pluralistic democracy.
What Obama suggested in his speech is not that religion be banned from the public moral debates. Indeed, a reading of the entire speech clearly shows that he strongly supports religion and people of religious faith. However, he rightly argued that while a person’s morality might be based on religious faith, in order for that person to win support for a moral viewpoint in the public debate, one must express a moral argument based on reason and not solely on religious rhetoric. In a democracy founded on the clear separation of church and state, where people from all faiths or no faith have rights, making moral arguments based solely on religious beliefs will not go far. This, however, is not at all disparaging of Christians or people of other faiths.
Dr. Dobson has taken Obama’s statements out of context and has misrepresented them. Well-meaning and thoughtful Christians should put no stock in what Dobson says about Barack Obama and his views on religion and the Bible. Dobson has acted in an unchristian manner, for he has not spoken the truth in love. Rather, he has spoken a lie that misrepresents and mischaracterizes the views of a fellow Christian. Well-informed Christians would do better by reading Obama’s speech for themselves. Obama’s view calls for a more reasonable, respectful, and civil conversation about the role of religion in public policy making than Dobson is willing to have.
Yet this past week, when I learned of his criticism of Obama’s speech, I took a few minutes to listen to Dobson’s program and to re-read Obama’s speech. On the broadcast, Dobson and Tom Minnery, Focus on the Family’s Vice President of Public Policy, played snippets of Obama’s speech on religion and offered their observations. What is interesting is that Obama made this speech in June of 2006 and Dobson is just now publicly commenting on the address. What drew Dobson to make his remarks, however, is even more interesting.
Obama referenced Dobson’s name in his speech along with making mention of Rev. Al Sharpton in the same context. Obama referred to the two religious leaders as a way of demonstrating the diversity within the Christian faith in America. Dobson and Minnery, however, accused Obama of attacking Dobson, even suggesting that Obama equated Dobson with racial bigotry. Yet, no common sense person who reads or hears the speech would understand Obama’s mention of Dobson as disparaging of him. Obama does not come close to attacking Dobson.
This deliberate misrepresentation of Obama’s mention of Dobson’s name, however, serves as the Focus on the Family leader’s entree into misleading his audience about Obama’s views on religion. Both Dobson and Minnery accuse Obama of diminishing religion and people of religious faith, particularly Christians. They also charge Obama with not acknowledging the strong Judeo-Christian tradition of this country. Yet, Obama says nothing close to this. In fact, he is clear to argue that religion has played and continues to play a significant role in this country and in the moral choices of people of faith. Far from neglecting the religious tradition embedded in America’s history, Obama affirmed that “the majority of great reformers in American history” were “motivated by faith.”
Mr. Obama also states, “Secularists are wrong when they ask believers to leave their religion at the door before entering the public square.” He goes on to clarify, “So, to say that men and women should not inject their “personal morality” into the public policy debates is a practical absurdity.” These statements, and others like them, demonstrate not only Obama’s strong support of people of faith and his encouragement of religious ideas in the public arena; they also shine a bright light on the darkness of Dobson’s misrepresentation of Obama’s speech.
But Dobson continued to ridicule Obama’s speech by suggesting that Obama has a lack of respect for the Bible itself. Dobson comments, “he's (Obama) deliberately distorting the traditional understanding of the Bible to fit his own world view, his own confused theology.” Yet, what Obama does in the part of the speech where he talks about the Bible is to ask the honest question concerning the use of the Bible as a basis for our moral debates. Obama is not against using the Bible in this way. In fact, he calls for all of us to read our Bibles.
But he is saying that we would find it difficult, even if the entire American population only professed the Christian faith, to agree on what biblical passages, from the numerous and diverse moral statements in scripture, speak with greater authority on moral issues. Obama is far from disparaging of the Bible, as Dobson accused him. In fact, his view expresses the very nature and struggle of biblical interpretation to find an honest way to reconcile the ancient biblical witness with the moral questions of a modern pluralistic democracy.
What Obama suggested in his speech is not that religion be banned from the public moral debates. Indeed, a reading of the entire speech clearly shows that he strongly supports religion and people of religious faith. However, he rightly argued that while a person’s morality might be based on religious faith, in order for that person to win support for a moral viewpoint in the public debate, one must express a moral argument based on reason and not solely on religious rhetoric. In a democracy founded on the clear separation of church and state, where people from all faiths or no faith have rights, making moral arguments based solely on religious beliefs will not go far. This, however, is not at all disparaging of Christians or people of other faiths.
Dr. Dobson has taken Obama’s statements out of context and has misrepresented them. Well-meaning and thoughtful Christians should put no stock in what Dobson says about Barack Obama and his views on religion and the Bible. Dobson has acted in an unchristian manner, for he has not spoken the truth in love. Rather, he has spoken a lie that misrepresents and mischaracterizes the views of a fellow Christian. Well-informed Christians would do better by reading Obama’s speech for themselves. Obama’s view calls for a more reasonable, respectful, and civil conversation about the role of religion in public policy making than Dobson is willing to have.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The Cross Must Again Become the Focal Image of Christianity
What does it mean to be Christian? The word, as far as we know, is first used in Acts 11:26 when the disciples are called Christians at Antioch. The term itself means one who follows Christ. But in our modern society, where Christianity has been so intertwined with American culture, the word has lost its original meaning, and its common use clouds our understanding of what it means to be a Christian.
If we take the word literally, however, we can look back to the words of Jesus to define what exactly it means to be a Christian. Jesus’ famous statement defining what it means to be his disciple serves as the most pertinent and precise explanation of what it means to be Christian. Jesus states, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me.”
This may seem confusing to those of us in a modern world where crucifixion is abhorred as a cruel practice, but we can gather from Jesus’ statement meaning and practice that defines what it means to be his disciple, to be a Christian. Our interpretation, however, must not simply be a spiritualizing of what Jesus says, as is common practice among many Christians. To do so would move too far away from the meaning of Jesus’ statement that it becomes unrecognizable.
Rather, our interpretation should be one that appropriates the declaration to our modern context while at the same time remaining connected to the original intent of the definition, and particularly to the interpretation of early Christians.
We know that the cross was a symbol of Roman tyranny, and that crucifixion was practiced by the Romans on many who were considered enemies of the state. Jesus was far from the only one killed on a cross, and far from the only innocent one who suffered this fate. Thus, in the context of Roman jurisprudence, Jesus was just another enemy of the state that needed to be silenced.
But the earliest followers of Jesus reflected on his death and reached a different understanding of the image of the cross. Though the cross was still a ruthless tool in the hands of an oppressive government, for them the cross had shifted from an external symbol of Roman tyranny to an internal symbol of faithfulness for the Christian community.
Thus, for these earliest Christians, the cross served symbolically as the norm of a community that existed in a world not yet submissive to the rule of God. The cross became symbolic of the internal ethic of the community and the social formation of that community in opposition to Roman power. The symbol of the cross represented for them a new way for being human; one in which the virtues of Christ served to form a counter-cultural movement.
In an environment like Rome, where power, wealth, and status were of prime value, the cross served as a constant reminder to the Christian community that there was now a new world order, a new way of living that was aligned to the virtues of Christ and not the virtues of the political domination of the world’s power.
In light of their experience of Jesus and their redefining of the symbolic nature of the cross, these earliest Christians understood that the virtue of sacrificial service, not domination, was the new norm. They viewed the inclusive welcoming of all, not exclusion of any, as their ritual. Humility, not power, became their characteristic. And simplicity and sharing, not indulgence, became their practice in Christian community.
In the fourth century, however, for the Roman Emperor Constantine, the sacred symbol of Christ, the Chi-Rho, became the symbol of earthly power and might. In essence, a second shift took place that moved the understanding of the cross as a symbol of self-less discipleship to one by which to conquer through domination, oppression and violence. Christianity, then, moved from the marginalized alternative community of character and political formation to the dominant symbol of power in the West.
In our modern political environment, the religious conservative movement of the last three decades has once again led to a shift of the story of Jesus and the cross. The cross has become once more a symbol of political power, and the church has been swept into being part and parcel of one political agenda. Those entrapped by this movement view the cross at a distant, preferring to see it as only an object on which Jesus died for our sins, rather than taking the cross as their own and seeing it as the symbol of vulnerability and openness.
It is time for another shift, one that leads us back to the early Christian understanding of the cross as the power of God, and not the power of humans. Shifting our understanding of the cross back to how early Christians viewed the cross would lead the church to find afresh its identity as an alternative community in which individuals are not formed by power, greed, exclusion, and self-interests, but are shaped by the norms of Jesus and his cross. This is what it means to be Christian.
If we take the word literally, however, we can look back to the words of Jesus to define what exactly it means to be a Christian. Jesus’ famous statement defining what it means to be his disciple serves as the most pertinent and precise explanation of what it means to be Christian. Jesus states, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me.”
This may seem confusing to those of us in a modern world where crucifixion is abhorred as a cruel practice, but we can gather from Jesus’ statement meaning and practice that defines what it means to be his disciple, to be a Christian. Our interpretation, however, must not simply be a spiritualizing of what Jesus says, as is common practice among many Christians. To do so would move too far away from the meaning of Jesus’ statement that it becomes unrecognizable.
Rather, our interpretation should be one that appropriates the declaration to our modern context while at the same time remaining connected to the original intent of the definition, and particularly to the interpretation of early Christians.
We know that the cross was a symbol of Roman tyranny, and that crucifixion was practiced by the Romans on many who were considered enemies of the state. Jesus was far from the only one killed on a cross, and far from the only innocent one who suffered this fate. Thus, in the context of Roman jurisprudence, Jesus was just another enemy of the state that needed to be silenced.
But the earliest followers of Jesus reflected on his death and reached a different understanding of the image of the cross. Though the cross was still a ruthless tool in the hands of an oppressive government, for them the cross had shifted from an external symbol of Roman tyranny to an internal symbol of faithfulness for the Christian community.
Thus, for these earliest Christians, the cross served symbolically as the norm of a community that existed in a world not yet submissive to the rule of God. The cross became symbolic of the internal ethic of the community and the social formation of that community in opposition to Roman power. The symbol of the cross represented for them a new way for being human; one in which the virtues of Christ served to form a counter-cultural movement.
In an environment like Rome, where power, wealth, and status were of prime value, the cross served as a constant reminder to the Christian community that there was now a new world order, a new way of living that was aligned to the virtues of Christ and not the virtues of the political domination of the world’s power.
In light of their experience of Jesus and their redefining of the symbolic nature of the cross, these earliest Christians understood that the virtue of sacrificial service, not domination, was the new norm. They viewed the inclusive welcoming of all, not exclusion of any, as their ritual. Humility, not power, became their characteristic. And simplicity and sharing, not indulgence, became their practice in Christian community.
In the fourth century, however, for the Roman Emperor Constantine, the sacred symbol of Christ, the Chi-Rho, became the symbol of earthly power and might. In essence, a second shift took place that moved the understanding of the cross as a symbol of self-less discipleship to one by which to conquer through domination, oppression and violence. Christianity, then, moved from the marginalized alternative community of character and political formation to the dominant symbol of power in the West.
In our modern political environment, the religious conservative movement of the last three decades has once again led to a shift of the story of Jesus and the cross. The cross has become once more a symbol of political power, and the church has been swept into being part and parcel of one political agenda. Those entrapped by this movement view the cross at a distant, preferring to see it as only an object on which Jesus died for our sins, rather than taking the cross as their own and seeing it as the symbol of vulnerability and openness.
It is time for another shift, one that leads us back to the early Christian understanding of the cross as the power of God, and not the power of humans. Shifting our understanding of the cross back to how early Christians viewed the cross would lead the church to find afresh its identity as an alternative community in which individuals are not formed by power, greed, exclusion, and self-interests, but are shaped by the norms of Jesus and his cross. This is what it means to be Christian.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Sacred Time and Space Invite Us into the Worship of God
One of the beliefs shared by the great religions of the world is the importance of sacred time and space. Throughout the Hebrew tradition, sacred days and seasons recalled and celebrated what God had done in Israel’s life. Of prime importance was the celebration of the Passover and the Day of Atonement. For the earliest Christians, the first day of the week was a reminder and celebration of Jesus’ resurrection.
Likewise, there are certain places that are considered sacred. Isaiah’s vision of God took place in the temple, the sacred space for the Jews. But geographical locations were also important. Mountains and deserts often served as places where God appeared to people in the biblical narratives. Thus, both sacred time and space are vital to authentic worship and can function to draw us into the experience of God.
One aspect of sacred time is the holy seasons that have always been significant to the worship of the church. While our daily calendars structure our time of work, play, etc., the Christian calendar structures the year of worship. The seasons of the church such as Advent, Christmas, Lent, Holy Week, Easter, and Pentecost create a sense of sacred order and serve to move us to the center of our faith; the work of God in the incarnation of Christ.
Furthermore, celebrating sacred seasons in worship connects us to the eternal church throughout the world. When we celebrate the sacred seasons we are participating in the eternal and universal language of the gospel that crosses the boundaries of gender, ethnicity, nationality, and culture. Yet, these sacred times are not merely celebratory reflections on the past; more importantly they shape our symbolic world in the present, revealing to us the reality of God for our own lives and the hope we and the creation have in God’s good future.
We can even speak of the specific day of worship as sacred. Christians have designated Sunday as the Lord’s Day, the day set aside for the church’s worship of God. While there is no prescription as to the specific time on Sunday that corporate worship should take place, it is important to understand that whatever hour is set for community worship there ought to be clear demarcations that separate sacred time from secular time. Periods of communal worship should open by calling the people to the sacred time of worship, thereby designating the reason the church gathers.
The value of sacred time also necessitates a sacred order to the worship service. Worship that incorporates singing songs of praise, praying prayers of confession, celebration, and intercession, reading Scripture, confessing our faith as a community, passing the peace of Christ to others, sharing the Lord’s Supper, and hearing the proclamation of the word creates a sacred rhythm to the communal worship experience. This kind of worship values the importance of the theological drama of the gospel and functions to move the people of God to leave the sacred time of communal worship and to go and live out their faith in the secular time of the world.
Sacred space is also essential for worship. While the experience of God can occur anyplace, the sacred space of a church sanctuary can create an atmosphere that invites us to worship God. Sacred space would include the design of the structure itself; however, the use of specific objects in worship is also important to authentic worship.
Symbols such as the cross, and fixtures such as the pulpit, the Lord’s Table, and the baptismal fount or pool function to remind us of the foundations of our faith: the word of God, the sacrifice of Christ, and the renewal of the Spirit. While these objects should never be the recipients of our worship, they can and do serve as focal images that point to what God has done for us in Christ.
In efforts to be relevant, however, some churches have lost a sense of sacred time and space. These movements argue that the use of sacred time and space is outdated and does not create an atmosphere of spontaneity in worship. In some of these churches, traditional sacred seasons have been pushed aside for more topical themes and the sacred rhythm of worship has been replaced by appeals to emotionalism. Moreover, church sanctuaries have taken on a more contemporary decor in which the front of the church looks more like a concert stage than a sacred place.
But in an attempt to be relevant to our culture, these approaches to worship have dismissed the historical and theological importance of sacred time and space for worship. Much more than relevant to worship, sacred space and time can create worship experiences that draw us out of our egocentrism and invite us into the authentic worship of God.
Among the 6th century Celtic Christians of Ireland and Scotland the importance of sacred space and time were given the designation “thin places”. Thin places are places or times in which the barrier between the material world and the world of God become so thin that we can experience the presence of the divine. While the thin places in our personal worship can appear anytime and anywhere, the reverent use of time and space in shared worship can create thin places that invite us into the worship of God.
Likewise, there are certain places that are considered sacred. Isaiah’s vision of God took place in the temple, the sacred space for the Jews. But geographical locations were also important. Mountains and deserts often served as places where God appeared to people in the biblical narratives. Thus, both sacred time and space are vital to authentic worship and can function to draw us into the experience of God.
One aspect of sacred time is the holy seasons that have always been significant to the worship of the church. While our daily calendars structure our time of work, play, etc., the Christian calendar structures the year of worship. The seasons of the church such as Advent, Christmas, Lent, Holy Week, Easter, and Pentecost create a sense of sacred order and serve to move us to the center of our faith; the work of God in the incarnation of Christ.
Furthermore, celebrating sacred seasons in worship connects us to the eternal church throughout the world. When we celebrate the sacred seasons we are participating in the eternal and universal language of the gospel that crosses the boundaries of gender, ethnicity, nationality, and culture. Yet, these sacred times are not merely celebratory reflections on the past; more importantly they shape our symbolic world in the present, revealing to us the reality of God for our own lives and the hope we and the creation have in God’s good future.
We can even speak of the specific day of worship as sacred. Christians have designated Sunday as the Lord’s Day, the day set aside for the church’s worship of God. While there is no prescription as to the specific time on Sunday that corporate worship should take place, it is important to understand that whatever hour is set for community worship there ought to be clear demarcations that separate sacred time from secular time. Periods of communal worship should open by calling the people to the sacred time of worship, thereby designating the reason the church gathers.
The value of sacred time also necessitates a sacred order to the worship service. Worship that incorporates singing songs of praise, praying prayers of confession, celebration, and intercession, reading Scripture, confessing our faith as a community, passing the peace of Christ to others, sharing the Lord’s Supper, and hearing the proclamation of the word creates a sacred rhythm to the communal worship experience. This kind of worship values the importance of the theological drama of the gospel and functions to move the people of God to leave the sacred time of communal worship and to go and live out their faith in the secular time of the world.
Sacred space is also essential for worship. While the experience of God can occur anyplace, the sacred space of a church sanctuary can create an atmosphere that invites us to worship God. Sacred space would include the design of the structure itself; however, the use of specific objects in worship is also important to authentic worship.
Symbols such as the cross, and fixtures such as the pulpit, the Lord’s Table, and the baptismal fount or pool function to remind us of the foundations of our faith: the word of God, the sacrifice of Christ, and the renewal of the Spirit. While these objects should never be the recipients of our worship, they can and do serve as focal images that point to what God has done for us in Christ.
In efforts to be relevant, however, some churches have lost a sense of sacred time and space. These movements argue that the use of sacred time and space is outdated and does not create an atmosphere of spontaneity in worship. In some of these churches, traditional sacred seasons have been pushed aside for more topical themes and the sacred rhythm of worship has been replaced by appeals to emotionalism. Moreover, church sanctuaries have taken on a more contemporary decor in which the front of the church looks more like a concert stage than a sacred place.
But in an attempt to be relevant to our culture, these approaches to worship have dismissed the historical and theological importance of sacred time and space for worship. Much more than relevant to worship, sacred space and time can create worship experiences that draw us out of our egocentrism and invite us into the authentic worship of God.
Among the 6th century Celtic Christians of Ireland and Scotland the importance of sacred space and time were given the designation “thin places”. Thin places are places or times in which the barrier between the material world and the world of God become so thin that we can experience the presence of the divine. While the thin places in our personal worship can appear anytime and anywhere, the reverent use of time and space in shared worship can create thin places that invite us into the worship of God.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Authentic Worship Relives and Reclaims the Jesus Story
Isaiah chapter 6 narrates a dramatic vision in which the prophet is taken into the throne room of God where he sees God clothed in majestic splendor. In this scene of worship, Isaiah’s experience of God brings him to see God as the ultimate reality, and through this worship experience, Isaiah is transformed.
As I reflect on this scene, I am confronted by questions about how we do worship today. The foremost question to address regarding worship is who do we worship? The obvious answer to this query is of course God. Christianity is a monotheistic faith in which we believe in and offer worship to the one transcendent God. In this belief we share common ground with those who practice Judaism and Islam. All three religions worship the God of Abraham.
Yet there is one crucial distinction that separates Christians from these kindred faiths. From its genesis, Christianity, which originally began as a small Jewish sect, was distinct in that followers of Jesus offered worship to the risen Christ together with their worship of God.
In their singing of hymns to Jesus, sharing sacred meals in honor of Jesus, and praying prayers to Jesus, they gave to Jesus worship that had been traditionally reserved for God alone. Thus, worship in the early church was not only Theocentric, it was also Christocentric; Christ centered worship that acknowledged and responded to what God had done in Jesus.
For these Christians, however, the event that was the definitive work of God to which they responded in worship was the death and resurrection of Jesus. An expression of this can be seen in scenes of heavenly worship in Revelation, where Jesus is worshipped as a slaughtered Lamb.
It is probable that the worship scenes of which John writes in Revelation reflect worship practices of the first century church. Early Christians would give praise and adoration to Jesus, the Lamb, not only because they believed him to be divine, but more importantly, because he had been crucified and resurrected. These worship gatherings were celebrations of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Thus, authentic Christian worship, then and now, rehearses and celebrates not only who God is, but specifically what God has done in Jesus Christ.
The worship we find in the early church told a narrative and rehearsed the story of Jesus with theological depth that led to existential transformation. Worship both looked backwards to what God had done in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and forward to the eschatological hope of Christ’s return. In doing so, this worship gave meaning and grounding to the believers’ existence in the present world gone awry.
From reading about Isaiah’s experience, and by reflecting on the worship of the early church, we can deduce themes that illustrate the existential results of authentic worship of God. Worship humbles us before the transcendent God. Worship also de-centers our profane existence by drawing us out of ourselves and into the reality of God. And worship transforms and renew us to live the gospel story.
I fear, however, that in our self-centered and entertainment driven world we can lose sight of the theological meaning and power of worship. With the accessibility of various styles of worship, and with a great number of churches shifting to more casual and entertaining styles, I cannot help but perceive a dumbing down of the theology of worship as a potential problem.
This is not true in every instance where contemporary styles of worship are practiced, but these approaches to worship, if not performed with careful reflection, can lead us to ignore the theological drama that relives the Christ event and that grounds the church in the “already, but not yet” of God.
The narrative movement of worship, through historic worship practices that invite participants to relive and reclaim the story of Jesus, the slaughtered Lamb, draws us not only into a remembrance of God’s past work in Jesus, and an awareness of God’s present work in us and in the world, but also into the dawning of God’s future triumph over evil.
Worship is the central act of the church through which we offer adoration to God and to Jesus, and through which we encounter God’s presence and goodness through rehearsing the story of Jesus. While worship cannot be defined by style, and worship itself must not become an idol, reflecting on the biblical and historic roots of worship indicate that through the theological drama of worship, we, like Isaiah, can come face to face with God and we too can be transformed.
.
As I reflect on this scene, I am confronted by questions about how we do worship today. The foremost question to address regarding worship is who do we worship? The obvious answer to this query is of course God. Christianity is a monotheistic faith in which we believe in and offer worship to the one transcendent God. In this belief we share common ground with those who practice Judaism and Islam. All three religions worship the God of Abraham.
Yet there is one crucial distinction that separates Christians from these kindred faiths. From its genesis, Christianity, which originally began as a small Jewish sect, was distinct in that followers of Jesus offered worship to the risen Christ together with their worship of God.
In their singing of hymns to Jesus, sharing sacred meals in honor of Jesus, and praying prayers to Jesus, they gave to Jesus worship that had been traditionally reserved for God alone. Thus, worship in the early church was not only Theocentric, it was also Christocentric; Christ centered worship that acknowledged and responded to what God had done in Jesus.
For these Christians, however, the event that was the definitive work of God to which they responded in worship was the death and resurrection of Jesus. An expression of this can be seen in scenes of heavenly worship in Revelation, where Jesus is worshipped as a slaughtered Lamb.
It is probable that the worship scenes of which John writes in Revelation reflect worship practices of the first century church. Early Christians would give praise and adoration to Jesus, the Lamb, not only because they believed him to be divine, but more importantly, because he had been crucified and resurrected. These worship gatherings were celebrations of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Thus, authentic Christian worship, then and now, rehearses and celebrates not only who God is, but specifically what God has done in Jesus Christ.
The worship we find in the early church told a narrative and rehearsed the story of Jesus with theological depth that led to existential transformation. Worship both looked backwards to what God had done in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and forward to the eschatological hope of Christ’s return. In doing so, this worship gave meaning and grounding to the believers’ existence in the present world gone awry.
From reading about Isaiah’s experience, and by reflecting on the worship of the early church, we can deduce themes that illustrate the existential results of authentic worship of God. Worship humbles us before the transcendent God. Worship also de-centers our profane existence by drawing us out of ourselves and into the reality of God. And worship transforms and renew us to live the gospel story.
I fear, however, that in our self-centered and entertainment driven world we can lose sight of the theological meaning and power of worship. With the accessibility of various styles of worship, and with a great number of churches shifting to more casual and entertaining styles, I cannot help but perceive a dumbing down of the theology of worship as a potential problem.
This is not true in every instance where contemporary styles of worship are practiced, but these approaches to worship, if not performed with careful reflection, can lead us to ignore the theological drama that relives the Christ event and that grounds the church in the “already, but not yet” of God.
The narrative movement of worship, through historic worship practices that invite participants to relive and reclaim the story of Jesus, the slaughtered Lamb, draws us not only into a remembrance of God’s past work in Jesus, and an awareness of God’s present work in us and in the world, but also into the dawning of God’s future triumph over evil.
Worship is the central act of the church through which we offer adoration to God and to Jesus, and through which we encounter God’s presence and goodness through rehearsing the story of Jesus. While worship cannot be defined by style, and worship itself must not become an idol, reflecting on the biblical and historic roots of worship indicate that through the theological drama of worship, we, like Isaiah, can come face to face with God and we too can be transformed.
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