What happens when you lose a sense of the holy? A bible is just a book. A worship service is just an hour. A prayer is something that never happens. Losing a sense of the holy coincides with losing a part of ourselves because we were made to be in relationship with God. Not only were we made for it, but God gave us a hunger for the holy. As the good hymn states, “Our hearts are restless til they rest in thee.” Without a sense of the holy, the restlessness remains, and modern society works hard to fill a hole that only God can fill. This sad quest for fulfillment is also an experience of many modern American Christians. When the church fails to provide space for the holy, or when its worshippers fail to open themselves to the holy, the search for the holy happens outside of Christian fellowship. Father Stephen, who spoke at WOW, said that the Eastern Orthodox tradition views American Christians as people who go to church faithfully, but do not believe in God. They may believe in the bible, believe in doctrine, even believe in going to church, but they do not participate in a worship that is holy.
Holy is a Hebrew word that means “set apart.” Something holy is other. Karl Barth said that God is wholly other, meaning that God is set apart from all that we know of the material world and yet chose to became human and dwell within our world and ultimately in our hearts. We encounter the holy. The holy confounds our expectation and reorients our compass. Words like awe, reverence and adoration are appropriate responses to what is holy. When we see God in someone, we may have a sense that the holy is in that person. Herod knew enough to call John the Baptist a holy man. When we meet God in worship, a place, the sanctuary is filled with the holy. Moses knew that he was in a holy place, and he removed his sandals out of reverence. The person or place is not holy in itself, but is a conduit of the holy. The holy flows through. In The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis said, “The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust in them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers.” The holy is apart from this world, and when we perceive the holy we are led away from the world, ourselves, even our religious trappings to the very heart of God.
People who are closed off emotionally can miss the holy because holy is something that you feel. People who are self-centered can miss the holy because the holy is not you or me. People who are judgmental can miss the holy because the holy is bound to the character of Christ. If Father Stephen is right, there are many American Christians who worship regularly, but have no sense of holiness in their religious practice. Compounding this tragedy is the unmet spiritual need for the living God that creates a ravenous restlessness, leading in some very unholy directions. G.K. Chesterton once wrote, “a man knocking on the door of a brothel is unconsciously looking for God.” We can add to the list of the unholy: an ever unsatisfied materialism, an apparent life purpose of escapism, and the dead end of selfishness. The hunger remains.
In an age when so many are so dissatisfied, the holy seems an obvious, but unexplored option. I’ve always liked the slogan, “Christianity is more caught than taught.” The holy is something we share with someone else. We lead them, point the way and join them in the pursuit of the holy. Discovering the holy is a decision. God reveals his holiness, but we decide to open our eyes. We look in the right places – church, spiritual mentors, the scriptures. Such a search is not an idle pastime, but the all consuming passion of the starving. We don’t know about God, we know God. We don’t know about Jesus, we know Jesus. We don’t know about the Holy Spirit, we know the Holy Spirit. We seek to encounter the wholly other who is God. To the degree that we use the church “to look beyond” to what many have called the far country, then the church is a vessel of the holy. To the degree that we only see what is in front of our face, then church is a waste of time.
February 2, 2012
Late Christmas Reflection
Christmas is about memories. There are waves of childhood memories that waft into consciousness with each Christmas carol, and the smells from the kitchen can transport you to another time. The air that we breathe changes at Christmas time, and the feeling of time is transformed. As soon as Thanksgiving is over, the stores run up the candy stripes and greet us with the ominous inauguration of Black Friday. Traffic builds, temperatures drop, lights glow, Salvation Army bells ring and our shopping list expands. Santa is on his throne sharing moments with excited children in front of the camera. Flour becomes a Christmas decoration for the kitchen, lying all over the counters. Children have web pages upon web pages of potential gifts for you to see. Scales are avoided like an unwelcome guest, and cookies are your new best friend. Hot chocolate or cider warms your toes as you realize what love you share with those around you. Memories of the past join the present act of making future memories. It is impossible to miss. We are socialized into this holiday season where all around, reminders guide us.
What is possible to miss is Jesus. The memory of Jesus is the cause for all the pomp and circumstance, but more and more, the cultural connections have nothing to do with Jesus. “Happy Holiday.” “Season’s Greetings.” “Bah Humbug.” We can be transported into the spirit of the season without even trying, but connecting to the memory of Jesus takes work. The church calendar reminds us that this is the season of Advent, so the time has a name. Advent means “coming.” The Savior is coming! You could walk, jostling elbows with the mall shoppers and mention, “the Savior is coming,” but its importance would be overshadowed by what people think they need. They need to finish their list, find some good sales, and manage their time well. You could walk into the Fountain City Ministry Center, helping a struggling family find food and mention, “the Savior is coming,” and the response would be different. The attention given those words is different in a halfway house, a prison or on the streets. The message is the same, but the audience is different. The audience is different because their life circumstances call out for a Savior, “Help me.” Are things really that different? If the down-and-outers are a ready audience, why are the up-and-outers so distracted? Our socialization into the season of Advent begins with understanding our need for a Savior. If we do not have much of a need for a Savior, why bother. If, on the other hand, our need is desperate, Advent takes on a whole new meaning. The reality is, whether we perceive the depths of our need for a Savior, for all of us, that need is truly desperate. Without Him, we are lost. Isaiah says, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness-- on them light has shined.” Psychology calls avoiding the truth, denial. Given the underlying reality for the season, it is hard sometimes not to see a skin deep cultural Christmas celebration as denial – a tinsel gilded denial of the darkness that calls out for a Savior. It is easy then for Jesus to be overlooked.
I look at the season, and I am a fanatic about my huge playlist of secular Christmas music. I like shopping, and I love some of the animated TV shows. I am a big fan of baked goods, and I like eggnog. There is nothing wrong with enjoying the Holiday, but for me the cultural celebration is but a cherry on top of a much larger dessert. I choose to be led by the purple in the sanctuary, the arrival of the Chrismon tree, and the well trod verses of scripture. Worship becomes my guide. In worship, the darkness is acknowledged, but the light of Christ outshines it all. John says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” That is the real celebration of Christmas, and a memory to cherish.
What is possible to miss is Jesus. The memory of Jesus is the cause for all the pomp and circumstance, but more and more, the cultural connections have nothing to do with Jesus. “Happy Holiday.” “Season’s Greetings.” “Bah Humbug.” We can be transported into the spirit of the season without even trying, but connecting to the memory of Jesus takes work. The church calendar reminds us that this is the season of Advent, so the time has a name. Advent means “coming.” The Savior is coming! You could walk, jostling elbows with the mall shoppers and mention, “the Savior is coming,” but its importance would be overshadowed by what people think they need. They need to finish their list, find some good sales, and manage their time well. You could walk into the Fountain City Ministry Center, helping a struggling family find food and mention, “the Savior is coming,” and the response would be different. The attention given those words is different in a halfway house, a prison or on the streets. The message is the same, but the audience is different. The audience is different because their life circumstances call out for a Savior, “Help me.” Are things really that different? If the down-and-outers are a ready audience, why are the up-and-outers so distracted? Our socialization into the season of Advent begins with understanding our need for a Savior. If we do not have much of a need for a Savior, why bother. If, on the other hand, our need is desperate, Advent takes on a whole new meaning. The reality is, whether we perceive the depths of our need for a Savior, for all of us, that need is truly desperate. Without Him, we are lost. Isaiah says, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness-- on them light has shined.” Psychology calls avoiding the truth, denial. Given the underlying reality for the season, it is hard sometimes not to see a skin deep cultural Christmas celebration as denial – a tinsel gilded denial of the darkness that calls out for a Savior. It is easy then for Jesus to be overlooked.
I look at the season, and I am a fanatic about my huge playlist of secular Christmas music. I like shopping, and I love some of the animated TV shows. I am a big fan of baked goods, and I like eggnog. There is nothing wrong with enjoying the Holiday, but for me the cultural celebration is but a cherry on top of a much larger dessert. I choose to be led by the purple in the sanctuary, the arrival of the Chrismon tree, and the well trod verses of scripture. Worship becomes my guide. In worship, the darkness is acknowledged, but the light of Christ outshines it all. John says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” That is the real celebration of Christmas, and a memory to cherish.
August 30, 2011
Fashionable Jesus
Fall Fashion Month is here! The new catalogs arrive; NY fashion week takes place and the industry magazines quadruple in size. Why would our pastor even know about this? A superficial judgment of this arena as a hot bed of consumerism misses its connection to Jesus Christ. That’s right, the tweed jacket situated on the chiseled mannequin, the umbrella skirt hanging on the front rack, and the haute couture photographs of supermodels. All this and Jesus too.
You have to go back twenty-something years to my hiatus between my dismissal from Naval Flight Training and the beginnings of my Seminary studies. In between, I took a job selling men’s clothes at a Baton Rouge department store. Before I could figure out my next move, a job offer came. When the owners found out that I had a degree, they offered me management, moved me to New Orleans, and based on my performance, gave me all of the profitable women’s clothing lines. I supervised everything from sportswear to dresses, learning about peplum along the way. After reading Women’s Wear Daily each morning, I would drive to work with the latest edition of Vogue in the car. Part of me still misses it. I miss the gossip around the cosmetics counter where I always stopped to chat while the other managers were too busy managing through intimidation. I would ease into the squabbles of full commission sales women bickering for the sale, their cigarette stained voices at high pitch and those long nails looking more like claws. My cheers accompanied the hip teenagers who forgot to set the floor for an ad and were frantically moving merchandise. One look at a fashion tome in September, and all those memories come back. Fashion is a loud world that is more about fantasy than reality, and it was fun to participate. Style became a passion, and I helped women look good. I’ve never lost that love of dramatic flair, even flamboyance, but the days of walking the floor are over. More than the nostalgia of retail’s hustle, the women that I managed emerge past the glossies in my mind.
At one level, nothing could be more trivial, and at another level, nothing, more spiritual. Enter Jesus Christ. When I announced to my sales staff that I was leaving to go into the ministry, they got it. I had been their boss and their pastor the whole time. I had listened about being late to work because of a recent breakup with a boyfriend, number five now. People told me about their parent’s health and shared all kinds of familial woe – a trip to the ICU or chemotherapy. There was always a box of tissues in the back room on my desk. I expected much, but I was fair and a friend along the way. Being the only man living in a world of women made for a unique congregation. Nothing prepared me more, not even Seminary, for what I do now. All of us at the Maison Blanche store understood that my service to Jesus Christ was simply shifting venues because it had begun long ago, somewhere between faded jeans and unmentionables – as good a place as any.
The point of my sharing is the rich ministry that can exist in the workplace. The surreal world of fashion was occupied by real world human beings who meant more to me than monthly sales figures. Many of you have arenas of commerce where you live out your faith. How is your job ministry? Sometimes I wonder where I was the more effective pastor, retail or the church, but in truth, they are the same. I found that I could only get excited for women’s clothing for so long, or about making money, or customer satisfaction, or company policy or the latest trend, but the people around me held an infinite fascination. There is a magic in all of our work lives found in the people around us. Who knew that a department store and a sanctuary could look the same? Not me, but I did discover the similarities. Jesus was there, and he still accompanies all of us to work each morning, in a wide variety of fields. If Jesus is in the fashion world, then he is where you work too. If retail can be church, then church can happen anywhere.
You have to go back twenty-something years to my hiatus between my dismissal from Naval Flight Training and the beginnings of my Seminary studies. In between, I took a job selling men’s clothes at a Baton Rouge department store. Before I could figure out my next move, a job offer came. When the owners found out that I had a degree, they offered me management, moved me to New Orleans, and based on my performance, gave me all of the profitable women’s clothing lines. I supervised everything from sportswear to dresses, learning about peplum along the way. After reading Women’s Wear Daily each morning, I would drive to work with the latest edition of Vogue in the car. Part of me still misses it. I miss the gossip around the cosmetics counter where I always stopped to chat while the other managers were too busy managing through intimidation. I would ease into the squabbles of full commission sales women bickering for the sale, their cigarette stained voices at high pitch and those long nails looking more like claws. My cheers accompanied the hip teenagers who forgot to set the floor for an ad and were frantically moving merchandise. One look at a fashion tome in September, and all those memories come back. Fashion is a loud world that is more about fantasy than reality, and it was fun to participate. Style became a passion, and I helped women look good. I’ve never lost that love of dramatic flair, even flamboyance, but the days of walking the floor are over. More than the nostalgia of retail’s hustle, the women that I managed emerge past the glossies in my mind.
At one level, nothing could be more trivial, and at another level, nothing, more spiritual. Enter Jesus Christ. When I announced to my sales staff that I was leaving to go into the ministry, they got it. I had been their boss and their pastor the whole time. I had listened about being late to work because of a recent breakup with a boyfriend, number five now. People told me about their parent’s health and shared all kinds of familial woe – a trip to the ICU or chemotherapy. There was always a box of tissues in the back room on my desk. I expected much, but I was fair and a friend along the way. Being the only man living in a world of women made for a unique congregation. Nothing prepared me more, not even Seminary, for what I do now. All of us at the Maison Blanche store understood that my service to Jesus Christ was simply shifting venues because it had begun long ago, somewhere between faded jeans and unmentionables – as good a place as any.
The point of my sharing is the rich ministry that can exist in the workplace. The surreal world of fashion was occupied by real world human beings who meant more to me than monthly sales figures. Many of you have arenas of commerce where you live out your faith. How is your job ministry? Sometimes I wonder where I was the more effective pastor, retail or the church, but in truth, they are the same. I found that I could only get excited for women’s clothing for so long, or about making money, or customer satisfaction, or company policy or the latest trend, but the people around me held an infinite fascination. There is a magic in all of our work lives found in the people around us. Who knew that a department store and a sanctuary could look the same? Not me, but I did discover the similarities. Jesus was there, and he still accompanies all of us to work each morning, in a wide variety of fields. If Jesus is in the fashion world, then he is where you work too. If retail can be church, then church can happen anywhere.
July 26, 2011
A Church Divided
The Presbyterian Church is divided. With our conflict in the news, some mistakenly believe this disagreement to be a current crisis. A historical perspective, however, reveals our divide as the culmination of decades of tension. Our Presbyterian struggles are old struggles, and our current problems have deep roots. In explaining this issue, I am indebted to the insights of others (whose names are withheld to protect the innocent) and summarize the thoughts of others while providing my own analysis. I will describe the nature of the divide, compare and contrast the two sides, look at Scripture in particular, and then consider the implications for the PCUSA.
The Great Divide of Christians dates to the Enlightenment. The Enlightenment was a period of philosophical thought that challenged the assumptions of knowledge inaugurated by Descartes' conclusion, "I think, therefore I am." As Descartes' skepticism stripped knowing down to its essential element of reason, that same skepticism gave birth to the historical-critical method and the higher forms of biblical criticism. Theology was forced to regain its footing and explain God in the face of the Enlightenment's challenges. The Church chose two paths: the rejection of the Enlightenment where it conflicted with tradition and a discerning engagement with the Enlightenment. These divergent paths have occasioned numerous historical, Presbyterian Church splits, and lie at the heart of our contemporary misunderstandings.
Each path has salient characteristics that help us to identify them. Each path is a divergent paradigm for describing the same reality, namely God, creating what some have called, "A Tale of Two Christianities." I leave it for you to decide whether it is "the best of times or the worst of times." I'll call the earlier paradigm that stretches back across the centuries, Faith Christianity, and the post-Enlightenment paradigm, Transformational Christianity. Each is looking at the same thing, but they have different spectacles that they wear to see. Graduating from Princeton Seminary, my educational training is under the Enlightenment's influence, but my faith journey has traversed across Faith Christianity. This puts me in the middle with a foot on both paths. You know what they say about those in the middle? They get hit from both sides. Please don't shoot the messenger! My intent is to define the situation rather than show favoritism. Fully aware of the consequences, I press forward.
Let’s contrast Faith Christianity with Transformational Christianity in regard to three characteristics: faith, the afterlife, and world religions. The term “faith” in Faith Christianity is used here to mean belief or faith in something. Faith has content. I believe in God; I believe in the Apostle's creed; I believe in the Bible. There are objective criteria for defining the Christian life and evaluating it. The Ten Commandments are a good example, but the whole of Scripture is used in this way. Being a Christian, from doctrine to behavior, is something that you can define. In this sense, many have referred to theology as a science. On the other hand, according to one theologian, Transformational Christianity sees theology as "poetry-plus instead of science-minus." The center is a person, Jesus, and faith as trust supersedes faith as belief. Faith is a path, or to reclaim the ancient terminology, we are "a people of the way." Rather than a deposit of knowledge to be received, faith is primarily a relationship with our living Lord that is lived out in the discovery of the unknown. On this path, we are transformed and always being transformed.
The theological preoccupation of Faith Christianity is heaven and hell. Human destiny is of paramount importance. People fear hell, or others fear it for them, and heaven is THE goal of this life. The language is one of rewards and punishments. With Transformational Christianity, the afterlife remains important, but the central concern is this life. The Kingdom of God announces God's passion for this world; "for God so loved the world." Transformational Christianity follows in that path, alleviating poverty, working for justice and communicating God's love. Life is not about requirements, but about relationship. The first is centered in one's own wellbeing, and the second, in God's being.
"I am the way and the truth and the light. No one comes to the Father but through me," is the rallying cry of Faith Christianity. Jesus is the way to heaven. Christianity is the exclusive means of salvation. Transformational Christianity, in its better forms, will retain the exclusiveness of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, without limiting that revelation to the Christian Church. All the major religions are an attempt to express the sacred that we all encounter. The bounds of salvation are left to the divine prerogative through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and there is an acceptance of religious pluralism.
These characteristics offer a sketch of the two Christianities, but Scripture offers us a test case. The Faith path sees Scripture as primarily divine. The doctrine of inspiration guides the discussion which can meander in the direction of inerrancy, and in narrower circles, it is assumed that God wrote the Bible. Issues of interpretation are sometimes seen as synonymous with the authority of Scripture so that many interpretations are presented as irrefutable, or in the Pope's case, infallible. At its best, this path has a high regard for Scripture.
The transformation path sees the Scripture as primarily a human document. The Bible was not written by God, but by Isaiah, Matthew and Paul. In Paul's case, he never intended for his letters to become Scripture because their function was correspondence. Scripture's composition and canonization are matters of providence, and inspiration is related to the reading of Scripture. Inspiration comes with the application of the Word, and many ministers will emphasize this point upon the conclusion of reading Scripture with "listen for the Word of God." The divine aspect of Scripture has been described as sacramental where the divine is revealed through human writings just as Christ comes to us through ordinary bread and wine. It has also been described as incarnational where just as Jesus is fully human and divine, so is the Scripture. At its best, this path is free to apply Scripture to new situations.
In both paths, Scripture is the rule for faith and practice.
Each group is looking at the same God, but see God in different ways, through different lenses, different paradigms. Some speak of a cultural transition where Faith Christianity is waning and Transformational Christianity is gaining ascendency. On the other hand, the fastest growing churches represent the earlier path, giving rise to the nondenominational Bible church. The Presbyterian Church has plenty of both Christianities and a smattering, like your pastor, who have a foot in each. Failing to understand how each group is seeing and absolutizing one's own point of view is at the heart of our current conflict.
The implication for the PCUSA has been conflict, but going forward, I believe there to be an opportunity for mutual forbearance. My model is the early church before Constantine. In the earliest church that contained everything from Gnostics to Judaizers, there was spirited debate, but instead of trying to control groups through codifying something like a Book of Order, the appeal was to God. Debate was a witness. In much of our Presbyterian rancor that has existed my entire ministry, that witness has been lost in the tone of the debates. Our denomination has an opportunity. The Church has replaced the old Book of Order with a smaller, less directive, New Form of Government. Now we must trust other churches to be led by God, or in failing to do so, to be disciplined by God. Staying together as a denomination will require mutual understanding and acceptance of divergent paradigms, if not always acceptance of divergent conclusions. When we can respect that we see the same God, albeit differently, then we can respect each other.
The Great Divide of Christians dates to the Enlightenment. The Enlightenment was a period of philosophical thought that challenged the assumptions of knowledge inaugurated by Descartes' conclusion, "I think, therefore I am." As Descartes' skepticism stripped knowing down to its essential element of reason, that same skepticism gave birth to the historical-critical method and the higher forms of biblical criticism. Theology was forced to regain its footing and explain God in the face of the Enlightenment's challenges. The Church chose two paths: the rejection of the Enlightenment where it conflicted with tradition and a discerning engagement with the Enlightenment. These divergent paths have occasioned numerous historical, Presbyterian Church splits, and lie at the heart of our contemporary misunderstandings.
Each path has salient characteristics that help us to identify them. Each path is a divergent paradigm for describing the same reality, namely God, creating what some have called, "A Tale of Two Christianities." I leave it for you to decide whether it is "the best of times or the worst of times." I'll call the earlier paradigm that stretches back across the centuries, Faith Christianity, and the post-Enlightenment paradigm, Transformational Christianity. Each is looking at the same thing, but they have different spectacles that they wear to see. Graduating from Princeton Seminary, my educational training is under the Enlightenment's influence, but my faith journey has traversed across Faith Christianity. This puts me in the middle with a foot on both paths. You know what they say about those in the middle? They get hit from both sides. Please don't shoot the messenger! My intent is to define the situation rather than show favoritism. Fully aware of the consequences, I press forward.
Let’s contrast Faith Christianity with Transformational Christianity in regard to three characteristics: faith, the afterlife, and world religions. The term “faith” in Faith Christianity is used here to mean belief or faith in something. Faith has content. I believe in God; I believe in the Apostle's creed; I believe in the Bible. There are objective criteria for defining the Christian life and evaluating it. The Ten Commandments are a good example, but the whole of Scripture is used in this way. Being a Christian, from doctrine to behavior, is something that you can define. In this sense, many have referred to theology as a science. On the other hand, according to one theologian, Transformational Christianity sees theology as "poetry-plus instead of science-minus." The center is a person, Jesus, and faith as trust supersedes faith as belief. Faith is a path, or to reclaim the ancient terminology, we are "a people of the way." Rather than a deposit of knowledge to be received, faith is primarily a relationship with our living Lord that is lived out in the discovery of the unknown. On this path, we are transformed and always being transformed.
The theological preoccupation of Faith Christianity is heaven and hell. Human destiny is of paramount importance. People fear hell, or others fear it for them, and heaven is THE goal of this life. The language is one of rewards and punishments. With Transformational Christianity, the afterlife remains important, but the central concern is this life. The Kingdom of God announces God's passion for this world; "for God so loved the world." Transformational Christianity follows in that path, alleviating poverty, working for justice and communicating God's love. Life is not about requirements, but about relationship. The first is centered in one's own wellbeing, and the second, in God's being.
"I am the way and the truth and the light. No one comes to the Father but through me," is the rallying cry of Faith Christianity. Jesus is the way to heaven. Christianity is the exclusive means of salvation. Transformational Christianity, in its better forms, will retain the exclusiveness of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, without limiting that revelation to the Christian Church. All the major religions are an attempt to express the sacred that we all encounter. The bounds of salvation are left to the divine prerogative through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and there is an acceptance of religious pluralism.
These characteristics offer a sketch of the two Christianities, but Scripture offers us a test case. The Faith path sees Scripture as primarily divine. The doctrine of inspiration guides the discussion which can meander in the direction of inerrancy, and in narrower circles, it is assumed that God wrote the Bible. Issues of interpretation are sometimes seen as synonymous with the authority of Scripture so that many interpretations are presented as irrefutable, or in the Pope's case, infallible. At its best, this path has a high regard for Scripture.
The transformation path sees the Scripture as primarily a human document. The Bible was not written by God, but by Isaiah, Matthew and Paul. In Paul's case, he never intended for his letters to become Scripture because their function was correspondence. Scripture's composition and canonization are matters of providence, and inspiration is related to the reading of Scripture. Inspiration comes with the application of the Word, and many ministers will emphasize this point upon the conclusion of reading Scripture with "listen for the Word of God." The divine aspect of Scripture has been described as sacramental where the divine is revealed through human writings just as Christ comes to us through ordinary bread and wine. It has also been described as incarnational where just as Jesus is fully human and divine, so is the Scripture. At its best, this path is free to apply Scripture to new situations.
In both paths, Scripture is the rule for faith and practice.
Each group is looking at the same God, but see God in different ways, through different lenses, different paradigms. Some speak of a cultural transition where Faith Christianity is waning and Transformational Christianity is gaining ascendency. On the other hand, the fastest growing churches represent the earlier path, giving rise to the nondenominational Bible church. The Presbyterian Church has plenty of both Christianities and a smattering, like your pastor, who have a foot in each. Failing to understand how each group is seeing and absolutizing one's own point of view is at the heart of our current conflict.
The implication for the PCUSA has been conflict, but going forward, I believe there to be an opportunity for mutual forbearance. My model is the early church before Constantine. In the earliest church that contained everything from Gnostics to Judaizers, there was spirited debate, but instead of trying to control groups through codifying something like a Book of Order, the appeal was to God. Debate was a witness. In much of our Presbyterian rancor that has existed my entire ministry, that witness has been lost in the tone of the debates. Our denomination has an opportunity. The Church has replaced the old Book of Order with a smaller, less directive, New Form of Government. Now we must trust other churches to be led by God, or in failing to do so, to be disciplined by God. Staying together as a denomination will require mutual understanding and acceptance of divergent paradigms, if not always acceptance of divergent conclusions. When we can respect that we see the same God, albeit differently, then we can respect each other.
July 22, 2011
Statement of Strengths
The following is an exercise that I completed at a Princeton Seminary conference on vocation. Those who know me well will immediately recognize me in the description, and those who know me less well will get an accurate introduction. I thought you might enjoy reading this description of my gifts for ministry and compare this description with your experiences and perceptions of me. Sounds very focused on Max but that is what we have been doing this past week.
Naming My Strengths
Max E Reddick
I am a speaker who loves words and ideas. My passion is sharing creatively my insights with others. These insights come from lived experience, books, and the world of ideas, but quintessentially from THE WORD, the logos of God. From my communion with God, which is experienced through both prayer and study, comes the desire to share. From my profound trust in God, I communicate a world filled with resilient goodness. For me, such sharing is a creative process born out of a rich matrix of reflection. Like the monastics of old, I need plenty of solitude to function well.
Being present with others while exploring the interior life is as satisfying as proclamation. Helping others heal and understand their lives is a sacred exploration. Joy comes from leading others to share their true selves.
The artistic genesis of expression rather than the linear logic of repetition is my wellspring of discovery. Connecting those discoveries with intentional living that is unafraid to live-out-loud is my vocation.
Naming My Strengths
Max E Reddick
I am a speaker who loves words and ideas. My passion is sharing creatively my insights with others. These insights come from lived experience, books, and the world of ideas, but quintessentially from THE WORD, the logos of God. From my communion with God, which is experienced through both prayer and study, comes the desire to share. From my profound trust in God, I communicate a world filled with resilient goodness. For me, such sharing is a creative process born out of a rich matrix of reflection. Like the monastics of old, I need plenty of solitude to function well.
Being present with others while exploring the interior life is as satisfying as proclamation. Helping others heal and understand their lives is a sacred exploration. Joy comes from leading others to share their true selves.
The artistic genesis of expression rather than the linear logic of repetition is my wellspring of discovery. Connecting those discoveries with intentional living that is unafraid to live-out-loud is my vocation.
May 26, 2011
Rapture
This has been a catastrophic spring. It began with the final chapters of my Revelation bible study as we learned of the end time destruction through the opening of seals, blowing of trumpets and pouring of bowls. What we read about on Tuesday morning, we’d see on TV that night. Fire, flood, earthquake, tsunami and tornadoes seemed to be a regular occurrence across the country and the world. A small group of us traveled to Cleveland, TN for disaster relief and witnessed the damage. Seeing a tornado’s destruction is at once painful and awe inspiring which is oddly like studying the book of Revelation. The path of the tornado was clearly marked by broken trees and damaged houses. Having worked hard for an entire day, I glimpsed just how long such a cleanup takes – a long time. Then I saw Joplin, MO and the images looked eerily like hurricane Katrina. That’s right – we haven’t even started hurricane season yet! Enter a doomsday prophet declaring the time of the rapture, and you have the makings for a bad joke.
Despite all the violent descriptions of the end times, hope, not doom, is the triumphant message. God protects his people. God vindicates his people. God secures his people. Even in the midst of trial and tribulation, there are songs of hope. “Why?” one preacher asked. “Because I read to the end of the good book, and I know how it all turns out.” Knowing the peace of the future informs our living in the present. Consider Christmas morning as an example. Some might wonder if there will be any presents under the Christmas tree. They might worry, wring their hands and develop indigestion. But you know that you will have presents under the tree. Do you not live your life differently until then? More calm, more confident? Living in hope is living in certainty. If you know the ultimate triumph of good, then we get to bring that hope to adversity in the here and now.
We could withdraw. We could huddle together in Waco Texas waiting for the rapture. Instead of helping others, we could devote ourselves exclusively to prayer because it is all going to end. Many short sighted so-called Christians do as much. They isolate themselves and ignore the problems of the world because the world is going to end. The point of Revelation is the exact opposite. We involve ourselves in this world and the lives of those around precisely because we know how it all ends. We participate with God in holding up the banner of hope. I John 3 states, “16 We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us-- and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. 17 How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?” As we look to the end of time, the call is to engage the present with the hope of the future.
This is a time that people are looking for hope. When you lose everything, what do you have left? When I view these seemingly endless catastrophes, what I see is the miracle of human compassion. I see the heart of God. I see countless people from all over the country who bring hope and thereby sound the note of triumph. I’ve studied the end of times, I know how the story ends, and what I see today is the assurance of victory in the face of tragedy. Since we are told that Jesus’ return will come like a thief in the night, let us lay aside pointless predictions and instead live out the secure love of God.
Despite all the violent descriptions of the end times, hope, not doom, is the triumphant message. God protects his people. God vindicates his people. God secures his people. Even in the midst of trial and tribulation, there are songs of hope. “Why?” one preacher asked. “Because I read to the end of the good book, and I know how it all turns out.” Knowing the peace of the future informs our living in the present. Consider Christmas morning as an example. Some might wonder if there will be any presents under the Christmas tree. They might worry, wring their hands and develop indigestion. But you know that you will have presents under the tree. Do you not live your life differently until then? More calm, more confident? Living in hope is living in certainty. If you know the ultimate triumph of good, then we get to bring that hope to adversity in the here and now.
We could withdraw. We could huddle together in Waco Texas waiting for the rapture. Instead of helping others, we could devote ourselves exclusively to prayer because it is all going to end. Many short sighted so-called Christians do as much. They isolate themselves and ignore the problems of the world because the world is going to end. The point of Revelation is the exact opposite. We involve ourselves in this world and the lives of those around precisely because we know how it all ends. We participate with God in holding up the banner of hope. I John 3 states, “16 We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us-- and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. 17 How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?” As we look to the end of time, the call is to engage the present with the hope of the future.
This is a time that people are looking for hope. When you lose everything, what do you have left? When I view these seemingly endless catastrophes, what I see is the miracle of human compassion. I see the heart of God. I see countless people from all over the country who bring hope and thereby sound the note of triumph. I’ve studied the end of times, I know how the story ends, and what I see today is the assurance of victory in the face of tragedy. Since we are told that Jesus’ return will come like a thief in the night, let us lay aside pointless predictions and instead live out the secure love of God.
April 13, 2011
First to the Women
“Jesus appeared first to the women, then to Peter, and to the Twelve, and then to many faithful witnesses,” congregations recite as a Statement of Faith. Jesus came to women before he came to the male apostles. It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna and Mary the mother of James, Salome, and the anonymous women with them to be exact. Of these women, only Mary Magdalene is a well known name. At the most momentous event of salvation history, the resurrected Jesus first appears to a small group of women. Mary Magdalene is their representative.
The disciples paused at Mary’s news. How could it be that this group of women, those foolish enough to waste expensive ointment on Jesus, forward enough to bring little children to Jesus, and brazen enough to reach out and grab his robe would be so honored? In fact, they didn’t believe Mary. Mark says, “But when they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they would not believe it,” and Luke says, “these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” Why? Because it was a wondrous story or because it was told by a woman? A questionable woman at that? A woman for whom Jesus cast out seven demons. Popular tradition has miscast Mary Magdalene in the role of a prostitute, but all we can say for certain is that she was a spiritually troubled woman. Here is not just a woman whom the disciples would already consider beneath them, but this woman whom the disciples with all their arguments about who is the greatest would deem as disqualified. She was not only insignificant; she was unfit. God’s choice of Mary Magdalene only confirms Jesus’ words, “I have come not to call the righteous, but sinners.” I find it interesting that the importance of Mary Magdalene is too often swept under the rug as if we still believe her voice tells an idle tale, waiting instead to hear from the disciples. Her preeminence in the resurrection story is huge. Huge. Undercutting all the self-importance of the apostles, there stands a weeping woman.
At the head of the line is Mary’s deep emotion and commitment contrasted with the fleeing disciples and Peter’s triple denial. We have a glimpse at the feeling aspect of resurrection perception. When Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved run to the tomb, their urgency indicates an emotional response while the other disciples remain behind. Thomas must place his hand in Jesus’ side before he concedes the truth that Jesus is alive, but Mary’s reception is instantaneous. It was women’s work, the anointing of the body after the Sabbath, that brought Mary to the tomb, but it was God’s wisdom to reveal Jesus then and there. Without a doubt, women occupy a celebrated place in the resurrection story. They are first here when at that time in history they were last in all categories, relegated to the status of a man’s property. Just as the virgin Mary, when she received news about Jesus, pondered all these things in her heart, so we too can only marvel at God’s decision to appear first to the women. As young Mary was favored with the birth of Jesus, here women are favored with the resurrection of Jesus. This is hallowed ground. At the heart of the Easter story, God honors women.
The disciples paused at Mary’s news. How could it be that this group of women, those foolish enough to waste expensive ointment on Jesus, forward enough to bring little children to Jesus, and brazen enough to reach out and grab his robe would be so honored? In fact, they didn’t believe Mary. Mark says, “But when they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they would not believe it,” and Luke says, “these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” Why? Because it was a wondrous story or because it was told by a woman? A questionable woman at that? A woman for whom Jesus cast out seven demons. Popular tradition has miscast Mary Magdalene in the role of a prostitute, but all we can say for certain is that she was a spiritually troubled woman. Here is not just a woman whom the disciples would already consider beneath them, but this woman whom the disciples with all their arguments about who is the greatest would deem as disqualified. She was not only insignificant; she was unfit. God’s choice of Mary Magdalene only confirms Jesus’ words, “I have come not to call the righteous, but sinners.” I find it interesting that the importance of Mary Magdalene is too often swept under the rug as if we still believe her voice tells an idle tale, waiting instead to hear from the disciples. Her preeminence in the resurrection story is huge. Huge. Undercutting all the self-importance of the apostles, there stands a weeping woman.
At the head of the line is Mary’s deep emotion and commitment contrasted with the fleeing disciples and Peter’s triple denial. We have a glimpse at the feeling aspect of resurrection perception. When Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved run to the tomb, their urgency indicates an emotional response while the other disciples remain behind. Thomas must place his hand in Jesus’ side before he concedes the truth that Jesus is alive, but Mary’s reception is instantaneous. It was women’s work, the anointing of the body after the Sabbath, that brought Mary to the tomb, but it was God’s wisdom to reveal Jesus then and there. Without a doubt, women occupy a celebrated place in the resurrection story. They are first here when at that time in history they were last in all categories, relegated to the status of a man’s property. Just as the virgin Mary, when she received news about Jesus, pondered all these things in her heart, so we too can only marvel at God’s decision to appear first to the women. As young Mary was favored with the birth of Jesus, here women are favored with the resurrection of Jesus. This is hallowed ground. At the heart of the Easter story, God honors women.
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