They'll know we are Christian by . . . what was that again?

I read a post on a progressive blog today titled "Republicans aren't Christians."  For quite some time now some on the right have been writing articles titled "Liberals aren't Christian."  Really?  Is this really the position we want to take with each other?

It's time to stop all the finger pointing and name calling and hostility in the name of Christianity.  All of it flies in the face of what Jesus tried to teach us.  "Love your neighbor as you love yourself", he said.  "Love one another" he said.  And "Do not judge so that you may not be judged."

"Love one another" sounds pretty straightforward.  It means love one another.  It means care about the other, about their well being and about their feelings.  It doesn't mean agree with everything the other says, but it does mean show love for the other as a person.  It doesn't mean accept everything the other says as Capital T Truth but it does mean allow others to have their own opinions on matters of importance to them.  Love one another means having respect for the beliefs and opinions of the other.

"Do not judge sounds pretty" sounds pretty clear to me.  It says to me that I don't get to decide if your way is right or wrong.  If I believe that God has a preferential option for the poor and that therefore it is the role of government to care for all of its citizens, and you don't believe those things in the same way that I believe them - I don't get to say you are wrong and I am right.  That would be judging.  I can say I don't agree with you, but I don't get to call you names.  I can keep working and lobbying and praying for the result I desire . . . and so do you.  "Do not judge" means I need to believe that your opinions and beliefs are every bit as valuable as mine and vice versa.

Yes, I get frustrated when I see politicians putting the desires of people with money ahead of the needs of the poor.  But that has always been the way of the world. Politicians, business owners, even church leaders have always looked first to pleasing the folks with deep pockets and if there is anything left, scattering some crumbs for the poor.  True, not all politicians or CEOs or Church Leaders are like this.  We have a rich history of many good, honest men and women in leadership.  But too many are impressed by wealth and power.  This is human nature.  James even found it necessary to warn church leaders in his time against treating the rich with more respect than the poor (James 2:3-4).

I get even more frustrated when I see Christians, or people of any faith tradition trying to force others to comply with their own religious convictions.  It was to avoid that very thing that so many came to this country in the first place.  It was to keep that from ever happening here that religious freedom was written into our constitution.

If, for example,  I believe it is wrong for a Christian to do business on the Sabbath, then I don't do business on the Sabbath.  I don't try  to make you stop doing business. That's between you and your God. My responsibility is simply and always to obey God the best way I can.  I can certainly tell you what I believe and even why I believe it, but your choices are not for me to judge.  Your actions and stated beliefs might make me crazy, but I don't get to tell you that you aren't Christian because we disagree.

Here's the thing.  Love one another means I respect your beliefs and choices, even especially when I do not agree with you.  It means I speak respectfully to you and about you.  Do not judge means I avoid evaluating your beliefs, words and actions as right or wrong, better or worse when compared to my beliefs, words and actions.

Love one another.  Do not judge.  These are simple, easy to understand instructions.  These are also really, really difficult instructions to carry out.  It is not expected that we will do these things perfectly, for which I am grateful.  But it is expected that we will try.  We will give it our best shot.  If we fall, we get up and try again.  That's what is to be Christian.

The title question?  They'll know we are Christian by  . . .?
Answer:  They'll know we are Christian by  our love.  But you knew that.

Saturday thoughts or "off topic things that pop into my head while sermonizing"

(this piece was found in the middle of a sermon already in progress following some other random and off topic thoughts) 

. . . .   as long as I’m in sidebar mode, a bit about my process.  Obviously, I spend time during the week pulling books off my shelves and searching through them for ways to understand what I’m reading.  I spend possibly an equal amount of time on the internet doing pretty much the same thing, researching and chatting with other preachers about what on earth we’re going to do with this one.   Saturday morning I  set all the sources I plan to use on my desk and settle down in my home work space for the duration - that is, for as long as I can keep coming up with words that I think I can use.  All around me are other items that help me work - candles, books of prayers and stories, stones to hold while I think, something from Starbucks.  

Directly in front of me are quotes that I check often.  A couple of years ago a preacher named Lindsey posted this, which resonates with me every week:  “Trying to write a sermon on Luke...wishing I could be doing something else. It’s hard to write a sermon when you don’t know what the parable means.  That may be where I’m going with this:  that the Bible isn’t an instruction manual but an invitation to be in relationship with God.  Sometimes that means thinking some hard thoughts.”    Next to that is a quote from another preacher - one of the RevGalBlogPals, I think: “A good sermon is one-half of a passionate conversation . .  and a place to meet Jesus.”  And from Soren Kierkegaard, “When you read God’s word, you must constantly be saying to yourself, “it is talking to me, and about me.”   All of those help me focus or get back on track when I wander into sidebar land.  

Running through my mind the whole time is that line from the 19th Psalm that many preachers pray just before they begin their sermon on Sunday morning, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, Lord, my rock and my salvation.”   I’m never quite sure why they pray these words before they read a manuscript.  I would think this prayer is most appropriately prayed before I start writing the manuscript.  Which, now that I think about it, probably shouldn’t be called a manuscript at all, as it is neither handwritten nor on paper, but synced to an iPad mini which I hold so I can “preach while walking around” and not get too sidetracked from the topic.

Some of what I write on Saturday shows up in my sermon on Sunday morning.  Some (like this piece) gets posted to my blog.  Some I file in my “miscellaneous writing” folder to flesh out later.  A lot of it just gets deleted.   And, as most of my congregation and friends already know, more often than not I’m up at 4 am on Sunday to re-write the entire thing because the Spirit has written something different on my heart overnight.  

Witness in the back of the church

I took the children for their Sunday school lesson this week while our intern preached. When we came back for the Lord’s Supper I sat quietly in the back row.  A few minutes later Robert, a recent addition to our church family, slid into the row in front of me. Just after he received the bread and cup another man came to sit with him.  The deacon also noticed the new arrival and came to serve him.   Robert said "I gave him mine."

Receiving bread and cup again Robert ate the bread and held the cup as we usually do.  Then a third man walked in and sat on the other side of Robert who told him, "You missed it, Pops, but here, take my cup so you can share that with everyone else."

I wept.

One Sunday morning several months ago David came to worship.  The next week he brought Robert.  Most weeks Robert, David and a few others show up near the beginning of worship.  They nearly always bring someone new with them and those new friends often come back bringing others. They lift their hands to sing and pray.  They respond out loud to prayers and sermons.  After worship  Robert always goes to the piano in the church hall to play and sing words of praise before sitting down to the fellowship meal.  They all help pack lunches for the hungry.  Every week they ask what else they can do to help.

You'd think that every congregation would be thrilled to get folks like this. But that hasn't been their experience.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Most of them haven't felt welcome inside a church in years.  

David and Robert and their friends are homeless.  They don't always smell great.  They may not always behave in “socially acceptable” ways.  They have little or nothing to put in the basket.  But man, they really love worshipping God in community!

For years I've been inviting the local homeless folks to join us for our Sunday after-worship meal.  I've been telling them "No pressure to come to church, just come eat with us."  

Not "let us feed you."   

But "Come eat with us. Come share a meal.  Come sit with us and talk with us and let's all get to know each other."

And then, at the grocery store on Sunday afternoon Jimmy, who is always sitting in front of the market, told me that he’s going to start coming to worship with David.  He’s never said that before.  I extended an invitation to join us for lunch after worship, as I always do whenever I see him.  He said, “Pastor, I can get food. I won’t come for food.” Pointing to the sky he said, “I’m coming for Him.” 

I wept again.

I’ve been working on the Acts model of doing church, of going out into the community to feed and heal whomever, whether or not they are part of our congregation.  You know, the way the early church did. We’re told that they did this and because they did people came to listen to the Good News out of curiosity, having witnessed great love demonstrated by the followers of Jesus.  Some of my clergy friends seem to think we should never invite people to come to worship, but that we should always first invite them to come and eat, or join us in do service in the community.  And then, if the Spirit leads us to, we can invite them to worship.   

For the better part of 10 years I've been inviting Jimmy to come eat in community with us and he never accepted the invitation. But now Jimmy is coming and he’s coming because David invited him to come worship God in community.  David invited him to come sing and pray and shout Amen in community.  David is working on a different model - the great commission model.  Jesus told his disciples, “Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything that I’ve commanded you.”  (Matthew 28:19-20a  CEB)

I think perhaps Jesus is telling me, "Go, and do likewise."

Smog and the Soul

I often find myself traveling on Interstate 10W toward Los Angeles.  As I reached the top of the hill that separates San Gabriel Valley from the Inland Empire this morning I was disappointed to see that the smog was so thick I couldn’t see the LA skyline through it at all.  Most days I can at least see the high rises downtown, even though they may be partially obscured beneath the brown haze.  Just two days ago the sky was so clear there wasn’t any brown in the sky at all.  The sky was clear and bright blue.  The skyline gleamed and sparkled, making me think of the Emerald City.

It seemed to me that this is a(nother) metaphor for our spiritual life.  There are times when we are surrounded, subsumed by a  brown funk.  Our pain, depression, illness, grief - whatever it is that has us in its grip - is so deep that we can’t see God at all. It is as if God isn’t even there.  We feel alone and in despair.

There are other times when, although still in the midst of our trials, we can see, as “in a glass dimly” the reality of our God in the distance.  We know that God is there, we know that God is accessible, we know that all we have to do is reach out through the pain and we will find that God there holding on to us, anchoring us.  We know hope.

And there are times when, regardless of what we are experiencing in life, we can see our connection with God so clearly that our hearts gleam and sparkle.  Those are the times when we know for a fact that God is with us no matter what is going on in our lives.  Those are the days when we can face even the most difficult circumstances with serenity and confidence.  We know that no matter what happens, we will be ok.

And so I pray:  Holy One, help me to always see you gleaming and sparkling just ahead, leading me into your kingdom of peace and love.  Amen.

The one I won't be preaching .

John 3:25-36  CEB

25 A debate started between John’s disciples and a certain Jew about cleansing rituals.26 They came to John and said, “Rabbi, look! The man who was with you across the Jordan, the one about whom you testified, is baptizing and everyone is flocking to him.”

27 John replied, “No one can receive anything unless it is given from heaven. 28 You yourselves can testify that I said that I’m not the Christ but that I’m the one sent before him. 29 The groom is the one who is getting married. The friend of the groom stands close by and, when he hears him, is overjoyed at the groom’s voice. Therefore, my joy is now complete. 30 He must increase and I must decrease. 31 The one who comes from above is above all things. The one who is from the earth belongs to the earth and speaks as one from the earth. The one who comes from heaven is above all things. 32 He testifies to what he has seen and heard, but no one accepts his testimony. 33 Whoever accepts his testimony confirms that God is true. 34 The one whom God sent speaks God’s words because God gives the Spirit generously. 35 The Father loves the Son and gives everything into his hands. 36 Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life. Whoever doesn’t believe in the Son won’t see life, but the angry judgment of God remains on them.” 

We need to understand that John the Baptizer’s ministry and message was to Jews and that it was about the God of Israel, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Moses.  It never would have occurred to John that his message or the baptism of repentance or even Jesus’ messiahship was for anybody else except the Jews.  He was talking to those who had turned away from their God or who had made the Law into their God.   He was reminding them that every time they had turned away things had gone badly for them;  other nations overran them, oppressed them, enslaved them . . . until they repented, and then God always sent someone to lead them back.   John’s was not intended to be a world-wide message.  It was a message to remind the ones who had been liberated in the exodus, the ones who had been exiled and brought home again, that God had promised them a savior and that God always kept promises.   Later the message Jesus the Christ preached would expand to include the whole world, but for right now, at the moment that John is speaking, his is still a pretty exclusive message.  

But the thing is . . . even though John’s message was directed to the Jews of his time and place, it really does say something to us,  in the context of our Christian faith.  Those who don’t believe in Christ’s words, those who claim to follow the God Jesus preached about but don’t believe that Christ’s commandments need to be followed in every aspect of life, won’t know the life that John spoke of; not eternal life in heaven after they died, but joyous, loving, generous life in the Spirit, here and now, on this earth.  Those who worship the Law instead of God will know anger and judgement and surely, this is what we see in our world, in our Christianity today.  We see so many who claim the mantel of Christ speaking in anger, hatred, judgement against others.  We see so many who claim to love Jesus rejecting where he didn’t. . .

God's promise is still there for us.  And God always keeps promises.

The God I know today

I've never written poetry before, except a love poem I wrote to a boy in 2nd grade which my mother   kept for reasons known only to herself.  But I realized the other day that some of my writing, when spoken, has rhythm and all I needed to do was make it look like a poem.  :)  I offer here my firstborn.

God lives in my heart. 

God lives above, in the rays that poke through thick clouds.  

And God lives in hospital beds 

preschool playgrounds 

in the tears of a suffering parent

in the cuddliness of a bunny

in the homeless guy sleeping in the church doorway.

The God I know today, 

the one I described before,

is not the same god I grew up with. 

The God I know today 

isn't the same god I was taught about from the time I was little.

That god was a punishing, angry, jealous god. 

That god was a white-robed white-bearded throne-sitting Judge with a capital J.  

The God I know today doesn't really have form, 

Not old or young

Not  male or female,

although I often picture Whoopie Goldberg in the role.  

The God I know today holds me accountable 

Or maybe I should say,

the God I know today teaches me to hold myself accountable

The God i know today will always forgive, 

always comfort, 

always be present in times of joy and pain 

The God I know today loves.  

Everyone

Even me

Even the young man who killed all those children.  

The God I know today really really really wants

To embrace us

To have us embrace each other

To be embraced back  

The god I know today not only doesn't care 

whether I am Catholic or Lutheran or Disciple or Quaker, 

but also doesn't care if I am Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist 

or even Atheist 

so long as my life is lived with love for my neighbor.

The God I know today... 

loves

Seminary Speak

Over the weekend I attended a conference/retreat with a group made up of mostly pastors with a few lay leaders and seminary students.  At one point one of the pastors said, "What we need to do is stop using words like ecclesiology and speak so that everyone can understand us."  I agree.  

I have always agreed, ever since I first got frustrated listening to sermons I could barely understand because the preacher was using all the words he learned in seminary including some in Hebrew.  He might as well have been speaking in tongues.  

Using un-understandable language is, perhaps, just as much an occupational hazard for preachers as it is for doctors.  It's not just doctors' handwriting that can't be understood, after all.  Their language is just as incomprehensible and they insist on using that language even when trying to help their patient undertand the answer to the most important question, "Just what the heck is wrong with me, anyway?"  I don't know about you, but I've been on the receiving end of that conversation way too many times.

At an interfaith event a couple of years ago which was titled something like, "An Introduction to the Basic Concepts of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam," the participants were in small groups trying to wrap our minds around what the speakers had said. I was answering a question about the varying understandings and practices of the Lord's Supper one of the people in my group asked when a seminary student informed me that what I was describing was transubstantiation.   I knew that of course, but the Jewish lay person who had asked the question didn't and I was speaking to her, not to a group of theologically trained folks.  I chose to smile and continue, but I really wanted to explain to the student why using accessible language is just as important as having accessible bathrooms.   

Consider this:  When planning an event most of us stop to determine whether the location we are using is wheelchair accessible. We do our best to remember to offer vegetarian and even gluten free options in the meals we plan for the event.  If we know there will be people attending who speak a different language we arrange for interpeters.  The last thing we want to have happen is for a participant to go away - or worse, stay away - because they will not be comfortable at the event, because they can't use the toilet facilities or because there is nothing for them to eat or because they don't understand a word that is being said.   

And yet, when trying to present our faith to others we, the preachers and teachers of the Gospel, too often fall back on words that the vast majority of the people hearing us can't understand.  We might just as well be speaking in tongues.  

On Pentecost the disciples received the gift of speaking so that everyone could understand them.  They weren't speaking to the theologically trained ministers and seminary students in the crowd, but to everyone.  Everybody could understand them.  Thus they were able to go out into the world carrying the Good News of God's unconditional love and compassionate forgiveness to everybody, using words that everyone listening could understand.  

I can hear Jesus now, saying,  "Go and do likewise."