Saturday, November 21, 2009

Everybody Take Your Places!

Text:        Daniel 7:1-14

Theme:    The Kingdom of God is HERE. . .and is YET TO COME.

Doctrine:    Eschatology – already, not yet; the Kingship of Christ.

Image:        Like reading poetry; D-day vs. V-day

Need:        To re-calibrate our understanding according to Reformed theology

Mission:    To live without fear because we honor the sacrifice of Christ inaugurating the Kingdom (D-day) and we know it is only a matter of time until Christ comes again (V-day.)

Introduction

When it comes to Scripture passages like ours this morning – the Apocalyptic literature of Daniel and the New Testament book of Revelation, many in the Reformed tradition – where we claim our theological roots -- have been unforgivably silent. While other schools of Christian thought have risen to prominence, proclaiming an end of the world filled with 'splosions and vengeance, Reformed pastors and churches have provided precious little by way of perspective upon the coming of Christ's Kingdom.

In that silence, faithful members of our churches, who have been hungry to know and learn, have gained knowledge and learned from those folks who were talking about the end of the world. And I am deeply sorry for that. Because we, Reformed pastors and churches do have something wonderful to say about how Christ not only WILL SOMEDAY reign upon the earth but how we believe that, in the face of corrupt governments, power-hungry empires and cruel and unjust systems, Jesus is ALREADY LORD and King.

The crux of the issue comes down to this – how will we read the text of Daniel 7? Is it meant to be a history book, filled with timelines and factual accuracy? It is an algebra equation waiting for us to fill in the missing variable? Is it a mystery, to which we must snoop and investigate like Biblical Sherlock Holmes? Or is it poetry, where the imagery is crafted to evoke the realities and emotions of our own lived experiences, so that our souls know the truth of it before our minds can logically organize the facts of it?

Trouble in the Text

Well, how would Daniel's original audience have received this vision? Daniel's audience was the people of Israel being held in exile in Babylon, about 600 years before Christ's birth. The people of Israel could look back over their history (much like this quilt/banner) and remember that the God who created them, also promised His covenant love to Abraham. And the covenant was renewed many, many times through the course of their story. When Moses received that law, the promises of land became contingent on a promise. With obedience will come blessing. With disobedience will come disaster. And they can look back to see how their own disobedience has gotten them into this mess.

But, much harder to look ahead and trust that God will still care for them. Indeed, it must seem that the covenant-making God, the Loving Redeemer of His people from slavery in Egypt, the careful Provider or food and water in the wilderness, the one whose presence used to fill the Temple in Jerusalem, their YHWH God is very far removed from them now. In God's place are the cruel tyrants of Babylon's army. The oppression of Babylon's government and the strange, dissonant emptiness of Babylon's many gods.

Daniel also wrote during a time and in a place that was saturated with the tradition of Near Eastern story-telling and mythology. Most of the best-sellers at Babylon's Barnes & Nobles would have been stories of this god besting his rival god. Or myths to make sense of chaos and harmony, of peace and warfare. This is considered "apocalyptic literature," similar to the New Testament book of Revelation. Here are three ways to identify apocalyptic literature:

  1. Apocalyptic literature is poetic, saturated by images and visions, with reference to cosmic battles of good and evil. One image is piled on top of another as though there is one central truth in the middle and the author is content to try to reach it from this angle, and again from this angle and another angle in order that the reader may have this one central truth as the anchor to their identity while their world is in chaos.
  2. Apocalyptic literature points to eternal, cosmic realities. It is a genre that attempts to pull back the curtain a bit between heaven and earth. To reveal what is happening in heaven when people's minds are filled to overflowing with the harsh realities of earth. It thus provides a lens through which to interpret earthly realities from a heavenly perspective.
  3. Apocalyptic literature comforts the afflicted. It is always intended to provide a sense of identity and stability in the midst of chaos. Whereas prophecies, like last week's text, are intended to afflict the comfortable, apocalyptic literature is meant to comfort the afflicted. And, since Daniel is preaching to a highly afflicted congregation, it is reasonable to assume that his message is intended as one of comfort, strange comfort though it may be.

When Daniel's audience heard the words, "Daniel had a dream and a vision passed through his mind," They settled into their seats knowing exactly what to expect: a word in poetic form, eternal in scope and comforting in intention.

But HOW is Daniel 7 comforting? With its imagery of strange creatures arising out of the sea. In Near Eastern literature, the sea was always the place that symbolized chaos and unpredictability. Arising out of the sea are four strange creatures, made up of bits and parts from various different animals, a sight, which for the Israelites who were very particular to keep separation between the animals as a means of keeping Kosher, sent shudders down their spine. What are these abhorrent creatures?

Indeed, many commentators have been intrigued by that very question – what are these abhorrent creatures? Writing in the midst of Babylon's empire, from a prominent position in King Darius' favor, Daniel was not about to straight-out name the oppressors. But, writing for the oppressed, the people must have known, Daniel is speaking to us. Daniel is speaking against Babylon. And Daniel is speaking about our realities:

  • A lion with wings that are clipped, keeping him powerful but only on the earth – "Hey! That is the way it feels to be oppressed by the earthly reality of Babylon's power over us."
  • A ravenous bear, always on the hunt for wealth, power, fame and influence -- "That's exactly what it feels like to be oppressed by Babylon's tyranny and insatiable appetite for control."
  • And the leopard is fast to catch his prey. "We were brought into captivity before we knew it but, with four heads! Oh Daniel, what a commentary on the infighting of powerful empires!"
  • Finally, the worst of the four beasts, with a horn that spoke constant boasts – "All we ever hear is discouragement and belittling taunts and prejudice of the Babylonians as we remain their inferiors."

There is one truth that Daniel is trying to communicate to his audience but, as a great poet is likely to do, Daniel tries to get at the truth in several different ways. "Hey Israelites! I know that you are staring down the barrel of corrupt governments, power-hungry empires and cruel and unjust systems every, single day. And the earthly realities we face are grim. Abhorrent. Stunning in their variations on the same themes – violence, lust for power, hatred for God and God's people.

Doesn't seem like good news quite yet, does it. Except for this. Except that anyone who has faced heartache, despair and persecution could tell you – far better that someone is able to name the reality of my situation than to ignore it altogether. What a relief it must have been to know that their plight was not invisible after all. Daniel had seen it. In a vision no less, a vision given by God, which means that, after all He has not forgotten us!

Trouble in the World

The primary trouble facing Daniel's audience was the massive oppression by the powers of government, economics and systems they faced as exiles in Babylon. But the vision God gave to Daniel is not particular to a time or place. It is not intended as a timeline of events, past or present. It is the reality of earthly powers in every time and place. And the trouble is one we still face today.

It can be difficult for us to find a similar level of systematic oppression and injustice in our own lives. We see it out there, of course, in the church universal. In the Congo. And Sudan. And the Middle East. In Asian closed countries. We live in a world where this kind of oppression is a daily reality. But it isn't OUR daily reality.    

And yet, even the very best governments and systems of this world are still not the same thing as the Kingdom of our LORD and of His Christ. ALL kingdoms of this world -- even those that support freedom and religious liberty – have elements of their politics, economies or societies that are intended to undermine the claim that "All authority, glory and sovereign power" is due to the Son of Man, who approaches the Ancient of Days on the clouds.

Grace in the Text

How then are we to stand on the right side of history? The right side of history is always the one that keeps eternity in mind.

"Thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. His clothing was a white as snow; the hair of his head was white like wool, His throne was flaming with fire, and its wheels were ablaze. A river of fire was flowing, coming out from before him. Thousands upon thousands attended him; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him, the court was seated and the books were opened."

While the Israelites in captivity felt abandoned to the beasts of Babylon's tyranny, Daniel slowly drew aside the curtain revealing the scene in heaven, where God is seated on His throne after all. And He is called the Ancient of Days to remind us that God is always faithful and unwaveringly sovereign. God is in control, even when it seems evil beasts are on the loose. And the Son of Man approaches, riding on the clouds. At that time,


 

"He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshipped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed."

At that time. . .at what time? Many of the most popular understandings of Daniel 7, as well as many of the most popular understandings of the end of the world believe that Christ's reign won't begin until He comes again.

But the very Savior who entered into the heart of the beastly world, who was content to be born under the shadow of the most savage empire – born in Roman times, killed at the hands of a religious leaders and defeated for a moment by the cruelest system of all – death -- is the same Savior who rose from the dead, forever changing the nature of death for all who believe. And he ascended into heaven, on the clouds and was led into the presence of the Ancient of Days.


 

"He was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. 'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.'""

Grace in the World

God's Word to Daniel, God's Word to the church in the first chapter of Acts is the same as God's Word to us – a word in poetic form, eternal in scope and comforting in intention. When the curtain is pulled aside and God's eternal purpose is seen, we see more than the chaos of the world around us.


 

"But from now on," Christ testified at his own trial before his crucifixion "you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven." Christ is ALREADY King!

This vision is not simply pie-in-the-sky-by-and-by. This vision is the reality of Christ's Kingdom in Heaven, which strengthens us to participate in Christ's Kingdom coming to earth.

On June 6, 1944, the 175,000 Allied Troops landed on the sandy shores of Normandy. The price to be paid – in lives and casualties -- was astronomical but, as a result, the Allies achieved their first stronghold on the continent of Europe. And the outcome of World War II was all but assured – a victory for the Allied forces. All that was left for them to do was march steadily across the continent, until the 8th of May 1945, when victory was declared at last.

Nearly 2,000 years ago, Jesus Christ, the Son of Man took on human flesh and landed on the sandy crust of this earth. The price he lived to pay – torture and death – was astronomical. But, as a result, rising from the grave and ascending into heaven, Christ provided, for the church, our first stronghold – the first inauguration of the Kingdom of God. Frederick Buechner writes of this Kingdom, that it is the place

"where our best dreams come from and our truest prayers. We glimpse it at those moments when we find ourselves being better than we are and wiser than we know. We catch sight of it when at some moment of crisis a strength seems to come to us that is greater than our own strength. The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, I think we are all of us homesick for it." (Listening to Your Life 304)

And the outcome of the Kingdom of God is absolutely assured – a victory for all those on the side of the Ancient of Days. And all that is left for us to do is walk in the good works, which God has laid out in advance for us, until someday – nobody may know the day or the hour – when Christ will come again and make all things new. And victory will be declared at last. Soon and very soon. No more waiting then. Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King.

Monday, June 08, 2009

The Pastor I Want To Be

Monday mornings are mini-Sabbaths for me. A time to get my soul screwed on straight for the work of ministry facing me this week. Along with tea, quiet, my journal & Bible (the pastoral epistles these days), I also journey along with Marva Dawn and Eugene Peterson in a course of spiritual reading (The Unnecessary Pastor: Rediscovering the Call these days.)

Currently, I am reading a chapter by Brother Eugene, a commentary on the book of Romans as profoundly pastoral theology. I am discovering in this fresh view of Paul, crafted by Peterson's pen, the pastor I want to be. The exact kind-of pastor I thought I would be -- before the reality of ministry's multiple adiaphora set in. Here are his encouraging words to all the Monday morning weary and hopeful:
I am interested in St. Paul's letter to the Romans as. . .a piece of writing that is a working demonstration of spiritual formation in the Christian community. My interest iis piqued by living in an age in which the work of much of the church's leadership is neither pastoral nor theological. The pastoral dimensions of the church's leadership are badly eroded by technologizing and managerial influences. The theological dimensions of the church's leadership have been marginalized by therapeutic and marketing preoccupations. The gospel work of giving leadership to the community of the Christian faithful has been alienated from its source.

Paul was a pastoral theologian. All of Paul's thinking and writing, teaching and preaching in the service of God (that is, his theology) was at the same time carried out in the service of a community of souls (that is, it was pastoral.)

For too long, pastors have not been treated as theologians; theology has been leeched from our lives. At the same time, pastors have been told that they're not pastors but counselors and people who run churches.

Normallly, the work of pastor is not generalized; it is specific to a particular community in a particular place. We aren't going to be able to copy Paul: we have no idea what Paul would do if he had to deal with music teams and pothols in the parking lot, figure out budget, bury teenage suicides and marry confused young adults, run a youth program and pose as a genial man of God at the annual church picnic.

Pastors who are pleased to sit at the feet of Paul the theologian more often than not sign up with psychologists and management consultants for expert counsel when it comes to going about their daily work iin the kingdom. This is understandable, for caring for souls is honored and demanding work; those who give their lives to it need all the help they can get. But without theology, caring for souls can easily transgress into manipulating or seducing selves.

And scholars for whom Paul is the patron saint of the learned life frequently minimize the way in which Paul used his mind in the immediate service of God and souls, preferring thus to work in settings protected against interruption. Theological and exegetical study is honored and demanding work, but abstracted from the actual conditions of community and congregation it easily loses connection with the God who loves the world and gave himself for it. having a mind, a glory we hold in common with the angels, is grand. Cultivating the life of the intellect is essential to the sanity of the church of Christ. But the use of the mind can as easily lead into pride as into truth. This happens when it severs itself from the pastoral.
Recently responding to another pastor's blog, I reflected this:
All of the maintaining work that goes into a churchly vocation is weary-ing work but not in the same way that ministry is weary-ing.
Ministry is life-giving, even when it wearies me.
Ministry is good, even when it’s hard.
Ministry is satisfying, even when it’s messy.
A to-do list filled with maintaining makes me not want to get out of bed in the morning.
What I love about Brother Eugene is the permission he provides to pastors to, in fact, be pastors. To not get lost in the paperwork shuffle or the immediacy of programming. But to be pastoral (set firmly and lovingly in the context of a particular community and theological (reflecting on the person, attributes and nature of the Triune God)? That is the pastor I want to be.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

What We Have Left Undone

Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent, for the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen.
Ministry is never done. Which means that, inevitably, much of what could be bows to the tyranny of what should be. Gettin' it done, inevitably, triumphs over dreams, imagination and "wouldn't it be amazing if. . ." ideas. Every night, as my head hits the pillow, I am haunted by the reminder of all the good that was left undone in my day. What is the line between finitude and sin? . . . Kyrie Eleison.

Almighty God, who does freely pardon all who repent and turn to Him, now fulfill in every contrite heart the promise of redeeming grace; forgiving all our sins, and cleansing us from an evil conscience; through the perfect sacrifice of Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.


Tuesday, June 02, 2009

My Peeps

So, this made me happy today. CRC represent!

Monday, June 01, 2009

The Trouble with the Fishbowl

In seminary we talk a LOT about "pastoral identity." One of the truths bestowed upon us is that ministry can feel like living in a fishbowl. Especially in Old Style churches, where comments are made about whose car is parked in your driveway; small chastisements regarding the hours you work (too many, too few, strange timetables), etc.; whether this, that or the other thing is appropriate attire for a Domini and on. . .and on. . .

But here's what they DON'T tell you about the fishbowl (or maybe I was still fixated on Domini attire when they mentioned it): Being in a fishbowl doesn't just mean everyone can see you -- it also means that, no matter how many times you circle around the joint, you are in your own watery, glass confinement. It means that everyone who is allowed, by virtue of your title, to watch your every lap around the bowl is simultaneously held at a distance from the waters you know. They still breath in oxygen. And while you may share the same living space, don't kid yourself: you are living worlds apart.

When they told us we were "set-apart" for ministry, I didn't know this is what they meant. It sounded so noble back then. It sounded laudable. It even sounded manageable. Set apart?

I just miss being able to breathe.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Faith is a Team Sport

Text:        John 20:24-31

Theme:    Faith is a team sport.

Doctrine:    Faith; Communion of the Saints; Ecclesiology

Image:        Yellowstone & the bears

Mission:    To have respect and hospitality for many different "kinds" in the church.

Need:        To trust that, if there is room for everyone, there is room for you in the church.


Illustration

Two summers ago, I lived and worked at Yellowstone National Park. When I arrived in the park, it was late Spring, the season when the bears descend from the high places to the lowlands to hunt for berries and amuse the tourists with their visible antics. Well, I had been there two weeks and hadn't seen a bear for myself. I heard stories, I saw pictures, tracks and other, less delicate, evidence of the bears. And yet, no bear spotting. I began to doubt the existence of these "mythological creatures," these so-called "bears." But, of course, it was pointless to share my skepticism with other park employees. They would just tell me glowing stories of the bear that was following them down the trail and the time one guy almost walked in between a mama and her cubs. And that is all well and good for them. But, as Thomas knows full well, having people tell you about their experience of something is light-worlds apart from experiencing it yourself. Bears? Heh. Unless I saw them for myself, I was not going to believe.

The Trouble with Thomas

Have you ever wondered where Thomas was? I mean the first time the Risen Christ appeared. Where was Thomas? "Thomas was not with the disciples when Jesus came." After four weeks of studying the disciples' stories of life in the immediate aftermath of the Resurrection, it's not entirely surprising that Thomas was missing, is it? Every person confronted with the death of Jesus was devastated in their own way. And some of us retreat when attacked. Maybe Thomas is one of those people. We don't know.

We do know that, unlike the travelers on the road to Emmaus, Thomas came back of his own accord. And when Thomas returns to his place among the disciples, his buddies can't wait to tell him: "We have seen the LORD!" Rather than saying to them, "Great! I'll totally take your word on that," Thomas doubts. Can you blame him? "We have seen the LORD!" Sensible people don't just take that piece of information without question! It's intellectually dubious, for starters. And for finishers, well, if I were Thomas, I guess I'd want to know – why them? How come they get to see Jesus? It's not fair! I'm never in the right place at the right time! If he's already irritated, a bunch of yahoos gloating about their spiritual experience isn't going to help.

I refuse to call this dear disciple "Doubting Thomas." I think it's a horrible nickname that's dogged him for far too long. One commentator acknowledges the same unfortunate treatment of Thomas. He says, "Thomas is not Judas." Thomas doesn't betray Jesus. He wonders how such a thing as the resurrection could be. Then, to be fair, he does issue a rather cheeky challenge – to his community and, ultimately, to God. "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." Cheeky words! No doubt about it. And some of us, if we are honest, expect God to show up with thunder in His voice and lightening in his fists. Maybe the disciples cocked their heads to look up at the ceiling and scooted away from Thomas, just in case Divine bursts of meteorology were about to crack the plaster above them. But instead. . .nothing. . .or, at least, nothing yet.

The Trouble with Us

Thomas doubted. No question. But the most important characteristic of Thomas is not his doubt. It's what he does with his doubt. The same is true for us. The most important characteristic of our faith is not whether we doubt. Instead, it is what we do with doubt. Remember back to my summer in Yellowstone. Two weeks in. No bears. At that point, I had a choice to make.

1) I could have packed up my stuff, hitched the first greyhound back to my suburban life of Target and Starbucks. Then my doubt would have become self-fulfilling prophecy. And I would probably still secretly doubt the existence of bears in Yellowstone National Park. OR

2) I could have doubted the way Thomas in this passage doubts. I could have done my doubting in the community of the persuaded. I could have stayed where I was most likely to encounter bears scampering along hiking trails and parking themselves, most obviously (and inconveniently) outside cabin doors or wandering through campgrounds.

Time out from the analogy, for a minute. When I meet folks who've stopped going to church, next to citing the hypocrisy they observed among church people, the second excuse most people use is: "I have doubts."

As if doubt is the end of the conversation! But, in fact, doubt is the beginning of the best conversations! In Mark 9 we read the story of a Father who asked Jesus to heal his son –

"If you are able to do anything, take pity on us and help us."

Jesus replies, "'IF you can?' Everything is possible for one who believes."

"Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, 'I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief."

Commenting on this encounter, the American novelist, Flannery O'Connor, wrote: " The experience of losing your faith, or of having lost it, is an experience that in the long run belongs to faith; or at least it can belong to faith. . . 'Lord, I believe; help my unbelief' is the most natural and most human and most agonizing prayer in the Gospels, and I think it is the foundation prayer of faith."

The Grace of Jesus to Thomas

Thomas does not use his uncertainty as license to abandon faith. How do I know that? Because of this – because of what He did with his doubt. Despite disbelief, skepticism and maybe even anger, Thomas remained where God was most likely to show up. Hebrews 10:25 cautions us, "Do not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing but encourage one another and all the more as you see the day approaching." Thomas uses his doubt to fuel his quest for truth. Better yet, the Risen Christ used the platform of Thomas' doubt to reveal Himself in truth.

"A week later." That's right. A whole week later "Jesus came and stood among them."
A week later, Jesus again appears to the disciples only, this time, "Thomas is with them." Greater than any character flaw or doubt or cheeky challenge, it is these four words that define the character of the man: "Thomas is with them." Thomas had his doubts. But Thomas stuck it out in a place where it was most likely that the Risen Christ would show up. Through it all, his faith was not his own, he was fed and kept and nourished by the community of faith around him. And, eventually, "a week later," the Risen Christ shows up. Jesus speaks peace to all in the room and then he turns to Thomas. The tone of his address is hard to determine. Typically, folks make Jesus out to be angry or frustrated, disappointed or annoyed. But we don't know that from the text. What we know is that each verb Jesus uses is a command: Put. See. Reach out. Put. Stop doubting. Clearly it is important to Jesus that Thomas understands this. It is crucial to Jesus that Thomas receives what is needed.

And the result of Thomas' encounter with the Risen Christ shouldn't surprise us. When Jesus finally appears and singles out Thomas, in that moment, in that transaction, what had previously only been the stories of others became Thomas' own experience with the Risen Christ. His response was immediate and unwavering, like that of the women at the tomb. Like the traveler's to Emmaus who could barely contain themselves as they sprinted back into their life of faith. Like Peter who jumps out of his boat to get to shore. Thomas responds: "My Lord and My God."

The Grace of Jesus to Us

What is Jesus' final evaluation of Thomas: "Because you have seen me, you have believed." That doesn't sound like a disciple who should be required to carry the title "Doubting" through all of church history, does it? In fact, that sounds very much like faith – even if it wasn't a straight and compliant journey. Even if it wasn't a childlike or easy faith. It's still faith. And even Jesus acknowledges that.

More recent commentators have decided in favor of a new nickname for Thomas – one that I like much better – AND one that is found in the text itself. "Thomas (also known as Didymus)." Thomas, is Aramaic for "twin." Didymus is Greek for "twin." Doesn't the remind you of Cephas, called Peter? Cephas and Peter are Aramaic and Greek for "the Rock."

Thomas the Twin. Much better. It even has the added benefit of alliteration! But, seriously, here is why it is a helpful name – Scripture never tells us who Thomas' twin is. Preachers like to speculate that He is a twin to us all. That in Thomas' story, we find one of our own. For better or for worse, this is our kin.

Some of us here reckon ourselves to be identical twins with the-Thomas-formerly-known-as-Doubting. Maybe you're a mathematician, still trying to get Christianity into a formula or chart or diagram of some sort. Maybe the messiness of life has made it impossible for you to latch onto the truth of a good God. Maybe you are waiting for the Risen Christ to show up in your life. We are Thomas' identical twins. And we've got our doubts.

It takes a great deal of courage, a healthy dose of tenacity to have faith when our sight grows dim. To believe, even while we waver and doubt, is still faith. Because the opposite of faith isn't doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty. It doesn't take faith to assert that 2 + 2 = 4. Christianity isn't an algebra equation. Christianity is a story. A story that beckons and invites and welcomes our participation. We can admit our doubt. And then we can admit our desire to believe and ask God to meet us in the midst of our muddled up and messy jumble of faith and doubt. We can "not stop meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing." We could, instead, position ourselves with the best possible vantage point to see the Risen Christ when he comes. And isn't the best possible vantage point in the midst of the assembled people of God?

But, of course, within the assembled people of God, some of us aren't identical twins with Thomas. Some folks have the certainty of those with an easy and early relationship with the Risen Christ. We are the ones meeting Thomas at the door: "We have seen the LORD!" Or else we are the ones Jesus commends. We are the ones "who have not seen and yet believe." Don't get too big a head. You've still got that fraternal twin Thomas to drag around with you.

Series Conclusion

Think about what it means to be the church. We are called the community of faith. Faith may be – in fact, should be -- something that each individual has BUT your faith, my faith is all, ultimately, OUR faith. We are in this venture together. And we are in it for the long haul.

Do you remember how, four weeks ago, I made you look at the person sitting next to you in the pew? Could you do that again, please? Humor me. And now look across the sanctuary. This is your community of faith. Our neighborhood extends well beyond these doors. We've learn that lesson so well this year. And I'm proud of what we have discovered. But there is a neighborhood built into this sanctuary as well. We are in this venture together. We are in it for the long haul. Faith is a team sport. Folks, take a good look because this is your team.

On this team, , we have been gifted with the challenge of figuring out how to enact 4th century theologian, Augustine's, words:

In the essentials, unity.

In the non-essentials, liberty &diversity.

Over all things, charity.

Here's why this matters so very much – if we cannot figure out how to hold onto each other in the essentials. If we allow non-essentials to divide us, I'm not sure we'll be able to survive. I worry about this sometimes. Not in this church so much. But in our classis – our geographical grouping of churches. And in our denomination. And in the Church Universal. If we cannot figure out how to hold on to one another in the essentials, if we let the non-essentials divide us, I'm not sure we can survive.

Colossians 3 tells us, "Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the LORD forgave you. And over all these virtues, put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body, you were called to peace."

As members of one body, the resurrection of Jesus Christ is our only truly legitimate source of unity. "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said." When the women at the tomb heard those words and encountered the Risen Christ, they overcame their fear in order to obey Jesus' command "Go and tell." When Peter sat over a daybreak campfire with the Risen Christ, he overcame his shame and failure in order to obey Jesus' command "Feed my sheep." And the travelers to Emmaus? They just needed some reassurance that all was not lost by following Jesus. And the Risen Christ used the familiar things of the world and the familiar ritual of the Table to nourish their faith. And Thomas the Twin? He wasn't going to make it on his own but, in the community of faith, the Risen Christ appeared to him too. Different people. Different needs. One Risen Christ. One Church Universal.

Thanks be to God.


 

    
 

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

No Woman’s Land

So, I was listening to NPR this afternoon -- Fresh Air to be specific -- and it was an interview I thought I was going to enjoy.  Ayelet Waldman, a feminist author of the Mommy-Track Mysteries, about a lawyer who stays home to raise her kids.   There's something there that's likeable enough.  It's bound to be an interesting conversation, right?  About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc.  And then she starts in a decision she and her husband made to abort their fourth child and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing.  Agree/disagree, whatever.  Why do women make the decisions they do.  And THEN she starts in on a detailed description of the procedure --

So, I switched the radio to the local Christian station, looking for something wholesome and soothing, only to discover a sweet round-table conversation with a group of women about the role of a Christian wife and mother.  There's something there that's likeable enough.  It's bount to be an interesting conversation, right?  About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc.  And then one women talks about marrying into her husband's "ideal" family with a mother in apron and pearls and a father who was a real "man's man," providing for the family and always having the last word and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing.  Agree/disagree, whatever.  Why do women make the decisions they do. And THEN she starts in on how submission changed her life and she always lets (makes?) her husband have the final word --

So, I switched off my radio altogether and fumed.  There IS a middle ground, right?  Women who stay home with kids.  Women who opt for traditional gender roles (tradition dating back to 1950).  Women who work inside and outside the home.  Women who take advantage of choice (and potentially make the wrong one.) 

There IS a middle ground.  I should know.  I'm trying to walk it.  But it ain't easy.  And there isn't a ton o' company on the journey.  It's No-Woman's Land and, somedays, I'm just relieved to dodge the cross-fire.

No-woman's Land

So, I was listening to NPR this afternoon -- Fresh Air to be specific -- and it was an interview I thought I was going to enjoy. Ayelet Waldman, a feminist author of the Mommy-Track Mysteries, about a lawyer who stays home to raise her kids. There's something there that's likeable enough. It's bound to be an interesting conversation, right? About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc. And then she starts in a decision she and her husband made to abort their fourth child and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing. Agree/disagree, whatever. Why do women make the decisions they do. And THEN she starts in on a detailed description of the procedure --

So, I switched the radio to the local Christian station, looking for something wholesome and soothing, only to discover a sweet round-table conversation with a group of women about the role of a Christian wife and mother. There's something there that's likeable enough. It's bount to be an interesting conversation, right? About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc. And then one women talks about marrying into her husband's "ideal" family with a mother in apron and pearls and a father who was a real "man's man," providing for the family and always having the last word and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing. Agree/disagree, whatever. Why do women make the decisions they do. And THEN she starts in on how submission changed her life and she always lets (makes?) her husband have the final word --

So, I switched off my radio altogether and fumed. There IS a middle ground, right? Women who stay home with kids. Women who opt for traditional gender roles (tradition dating back to 1950). Women who work inside and outside the home. Women who take advantage of choice (and potentially make the wrong one.)

There IS a middle ground. I should know. I'm trying to walk it. But it ain't easy. And there isn't a ton o' company on the journey. It's No-Woman's Land and, somedays, I'm just relieved to dodge the cross-fire.