Book Review: Dear Church by Lenny Duncan

"Christianity at its core is subversive. But radical evil wants complacency, not subversion...Radical evil wants walls up around our hearts, around our congregation's life, and around this country. Division is how evil operates. We have all become intractable... 

To walk away from a theological commitment to the least of these is to leave Christ on the cross and ignore what happens three days later. To pretend that this isn't our time to stand up and speak a good word over this world is gross misconduct. If I don't accept this call now, I should be defrocked. If the church doesn't accept this call now, it deserves to die."

Guardians of the Galaxy, vol. 2 - A Theological Review [SPOILERS]

Every year, my birthday (5 May) aligns with the start of the "summer movie season" - a period of time marked by BIG MOVIES WITH STUFF ASPLODING ALL OVER. As much as home theater technology has advanced over the past 20 years, there's just no substitute for the theater experience: fresh popcorn, comfy seats, big screens, LOUD NOISES. This year was a doubly-special treat: Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2 opened on my actual birthday, which fell on a Friday this year. So I had an absolutely wonderful birthday: early morning workout, golf, an afternoon of reading, grilled a steak for supper, then the whole famn-damily hopped in the car and headed off to the movie theater.

You've likely read several reviews of GotGv2 so all I'll say about the movie as a movie is what I heard from Glen Weldon on Pop Culture Happy Hour: "did you like Guardians of the Galaxy? Here's more of that." What amazed me, however, was the theological juxtaposition presented by the central crisis of the movie: what constitutes family? So, there are spoilers ahead - if you want to maintain some surprises, don't read past the jump!

"der Leib Christi"

¹⁴When the hour came, he took his place at the table, and the apostles with him. ¹⁵He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; ¹⁶for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” ¹⁷Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he said, “Take this and divide it among yourselves; ¹⁸for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” ¹⁹Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” ²⁰And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” (Luke 22:14-20)

Doctor Strange and the Theology of the Cross

"We never lose our demons: we only learn to live above them." The Ancient One - Doctor Strange

Friday Sermonating

The sermon station at Cafe Milo, Ames, IA.

Spent the afternoon preparing for Sunday.  Good coffee, good reflections from commentaries, websites and *gasp* yours truly.  GREAT conversation prior to teh sermonating in our Theology for Lunch book group:  we're reading Johnny Cash and the Great American Contradiction by Rodney Clapp, and I love it even more the second time around.  Here's a song that was mentioned today:

It's stuff like this that makes my job truly enjoyable.  In some ways this has been a really crappy week:  continued financial fallout from the ELCA budgetary issues, trying to figure out how we can manage our own money better, marriages we thought were good falling apart, and, of course, the never-ending shitstorm that is the upcoming midterm elections.  But the chance to ponder all that God may be up to in the midst of this muck always brings a spring to my step and hope to my heart.  May your weekend be blessed, whatever it entails.

Grace & peace,
Scott

Wednesday Night Prayers - Psalm 90 and "Ants Marching"

Psalm 90

¹Lord, you have ^| been our refuge

            from one generation ^| to another.

²Before the mountains were brought forth, or the land and the ^| earth were born,

            from age to age ^| you are God.

³You turn us back to the ^| dust and say,

            "Turn back, O child- ^| ren of earth."

⁴For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when ^| it is past

            and like a watch ^| in the night;

⁵you sweep them away ^| like a dream,

            they fade away suddenly ^| like the grass:

⁶in the morning it is ^| green and flourishes;

            in the evening it is dried ^| up and withered.

⁷For we are consumed ^| by your anger;

            we are afraid because ^| of your wrath.

⁸Our iniquities you have ^| set before you,

            and our secret sins in the light ^| of your countenance.

⁹When you are angry, all our ^| days are gone;

            we bring our years to an end ^| like a sigh.

¹⁰The span of our life is seventy years, perhaps in strength ^| even eighty;

            yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow, for they pass away quickly and ^| we are gone.

¹¹Who regards the power ^| of your wrath?

            Who rightly fears your ^| indignation?

¹²So teach us to num- ^| ber our days

            that we may apply our ^| hearts to wisdom.

¹³Return, O LORD; how long ^| will you tarry?

            Be gracious ^| to your servants.

¹⁴Satisfy us by your steadfast love ^| in the morning;

            so shall we rejoice and be glad ^| all our days.

¹⁵Make us glad as many days as you af- ^| flicted us

            and as many years as we suf- ^| fered adversity.

¹⁶Show your ser- ^| vants your works,

            and your splendor ^| to their children.

¹⁷May the graciousness of the Lord our God ^| be upon us;

            prosper the work of our hands; pros- ^| per our handiwork.

From Sundays and Seasons.com. Copyright 2010 Augsburg Fortress. All rights reserved.

Reprinted by permission under Augsburg Fortress Liturgies Annual License #20449.

Driving home from the gym tonight, my oldest daughter asked, "Daddy, where are all these cars going?"  I said, "Well, honey, some are coming home from work, and some are going to work.  Some are going to the gym, and some are going to church.  I don't know where all of them are going, kiddo - they're going lots of places."  

It made me think of the song "Ants Marching" by Dave Matthews Band.  "He wakes up in the morning - does his teeth, bite to eat and he's rolling - never changes a thing - the week ends the week begins..."  I've always understood the song as a call to awareness, a call to recognize that every day is a precious gift from God, even the ones in which it feels like nothing extraordinary happens.  

The psalmist writes:  "The span of our life is seventy years, maybe eighty, but they are marked with hard toil, they fly by and then we're gone...teach us to number our days so we might apply our hearts to wisdom."  How have you marked today?  Take a minute and name one thing that made today different, even if it seems like an insignificant little difference.  It can be pleasant, or painful - what God wants for us is the thing for which the psalmist asks:  awareness, perspective, the sense that, even on the most ordinary of days, things of consequence are taking place.  

In his book The Great Divorce, C. S. Lewis describes heaven as a place in which reality is so overwhelming that it is painful.  Those who are unaware of where they are and what power has brought them hide in their grey lives, unwilling or unable to experience the reality around them in all its depth and power.  They are so insubstantial the grass feels as hard as diamonds and they can't even disturb the delicate morning dew.  Could the ants marching in Dave Matthews' song be so different?

You're going lots of places.  Some of you are just getting started, some of you are looking at graduation as soon as this December.  The prayer of the psalmist is not for power, or strength, or vindication:  the psalmist's prayer is for wisdom, understanding, and the chance to spend the day working on God's behalf.  In the end, that's a pretty substantial reality in which to live.  

Thoughts on Bonhoeffer: The Church and the Reign of God

We watched the documentary "Bonhoeffer" tonight for our Campus Ministry Movie Night for April. As we discussed the life of this remarkable saint, I remembered a paper I'd written for a seminary class on the Holy Spirit, which drew deeply from Bonhoeffer. Thought it'd be an appropriate thing to share. If you like seminary papers, that is. If not, this may be a good day to go elsewhere, and fear no ill will on my part - seminary papers are not for everyone.

Scott

"[The Spirit] will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.

The Gospel According to John, 16^th Chapter, verses 14 & 15

This, according to David K. Rensberger, is "The Work of the Spirit."[1] The Spirit takes that which belongs to Christ and declares it to those who hear the voice of Christ. One can easily argue that this implies that the Spirit is declaring Jesus Christ himself for the good of the world – the picture of Christ's ministry is one of self-sacrifice and redemption in the name of God's own Son ransoming the world. But limiting the work of the Spirit to a declaration of Christ for the world ignores a significant question unanswered: when will the need for declaration cease, and what is the world's status while it lives between incarnation and parousia? If the world waits with longing, even groaning in anticipation for the world to come[2], why would the Creator of this world hesitate or delay the coming of Christ and the end of this world?

The answer is found in the work of the Holy Spirit, which is the avenue through which the reciprocity of Christ and the world is revealed. Not only is Christ given for the world, but the world is given for Christ: within Christ, the world finds its existence, and within the world, Christ lives wherever the Spirit causes God to be glorified in Jesus Christ, the crucified and risen savior of the world. Here the Spirit of Christ, that which reveals Christ to the world, works God's eternal life into temporal reality, not as a far-off goal or a delayed hope, but in an already/not yet reality that creates faith in the full reality of God's future promise.

In John 17.3, Jesus describes eternal life in this way: "…this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent." Traditionally, eternal life has been pictured as an unrealized future promise; life in temporality has always been seen as the 'first life,' the one which must end before eternal life may begin. Note here that there is no requirement for delay in this word from the gospel of John: Jesus simply states that eternal life begins with the knowledge of the Creator and Jesus Christ. If the work of the Spirit includes the revelation of Christ for the world, then eternal life, through the work of that same Holy Spirit, has already begun!

Is this possible? Most certainly; one may know God the Creator and Jesus Christ the Redeemer within the world. Jesus was, after all, a real human being, and when Christ is known, the Creator is known: "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also." (John 14.6-7a). But Christ was not and is not known solely in his particular, incarnate human body; through the continuing work of the Spirit, Christ is known in the present as well.

Why would this be done now? Because the world, as the continuing creation of God, is glorious and exists for God's present revelation, not only for a future promise. This present revelation is, of course, the inbreaking of the future promise, but as the world groans with anticipation for God's future, as the Spirit works in the world to make the Creator and the Christ known, the glory of it all is such that the angels watch as they are able:

It was revealed to [the prophets of grace before Jesus' time] that they were serving not themselves but you, in regard to the things that have now been announced to you through those who brought you good news by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven - things into which angels long to look! (I Peter 1.12, emphasis mine)

If the angels long to look at the Holy Spirit bringing good news in the present the world, one would think this means that there's something in the world worth watching! The work of the Word, whether the Word/Christ or the Word/Holy Spirit, is still creating all things. The world still belongs to God, and what belongs to God is declared by God the Holy Spirit. But what causes the angels to stop and stare is this: where that declaration is heard, where God is glorified and Jesus Christ is revealed as Immanuel, God-with-us, the crucified and risen Son of God, new creation happens – the Spirit creating faith in believers in this world.

One by one, as this faith is created in believers, the new creation is gathered and formed into the church, created by the Holy Spirit for the further revelation of God's new creation in the world. In this church the Holy Spirit continues the work of new creation through preaching and the Sacraments. Baptism gives the believer a moment in time whereby the beginning of this new creation might be remembered; Preaching and Proclamation point out the new creation in its contextual richness and create it through a reaffirmation of God's promises to the world; the Lord's Supper maintains the new creation by giving it a tangible promise from God to which it may return and upon which it may depend. But the church is not a community closed in upon itself, withdrawing from the world; rather, as Christ was given for the world, and the world given for Christ's revelation, the church is given to the world as the primary work of the Spirit within it, and the world given to the church so that through its witness the Holy Spirit might continue the work of new creation:

It is not with the beyond that we are concerned, but with this world as created and preserved, subjected to laws, reconciled, and restored. What is above this world is, in the gospel, intended to exist for this world; I mean that, not in the anthropocentric sense of liberal, mystic, pietistic, ethical theology, but in the Biblical sense of the creation and of the incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.[3]

The church, as the new creation of the Holy Spirit, is given not just for its own good, but also to participate in the reign of God, both now and in the future hope of the eschaton. The world does not want this new creation, because the world refuses to acknowledge its createdness in the first place: "…the world came into being through Him, yet the world did not know him."[4] So the Spirit calls the church into being to be one with Christ, to unite with Christ in the glory of the Creator so that the world may know God in Christ and the love of Christ in the Sprit's work of new creation.

Thus the church exists as the body of Christ in the world for the good of the world. Jesus prays for the good of the world through the church:

I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. (John 17.20-21)

The church is created by the Holy Spirit to proclaim the reign of God through the glory of Christ. But what does this glory entail? When the hour of Christ comes, when Christ glorifies the Creator and the Creator glorifies Christ, what happens? Betrayal happens (John 18.4-5). Denial happens (John 18.17, 25-27). Abuse happens (John 19.1-3). Death happens (John 19.30). BUT resurrection also happens (John 20.18), and it is in this resurrection that the glory of being united by the Spirit with the Creator and Jesus Christ completes the work of new creation in the church. The world resists this aspect of the church, because of the world's rejection of its creaturely nature, and so, as Christ must die for the sake of the world, so must the church die to itself, to its ambitions to be anything other than the body of Christ, so that the Spirit might make it into a new creation, raised to new life to become one with Christ for the sake of the world.

The difference between the Christian hope of resurrection and the mythological hope is that the former sends people back to their life on earth in a wholly new way…Christians, unlike the devotees of the redemption myths, have no last line of escape available from earthly tasks and difficulties into the eternal, but, like Christ himself, … they must drink the earthly cup to the dregs, and only in their doing so is the crucified and risen Lord with them, and they crucified and risen with Christ. This world must not be prematurely written off.[5]

I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. (John 17.14-15 (emphasis mine))

The church, in the reign of God, is called to participate deeply in the world God has created, not to escape it to live comfortably nestled away, safe from the world that threatens. For God is at work in the world that threatens, and where God has chosen to be at work, there the church is created by the Spirit of the Creator to participate in that work. The world belongs to God. The church belongs to God. The church, then, does not belong to the world, though in time the church exists in the world, and not by accident. This deep calling into this world is a purposeful calling at the command of Christ himself. As the church declares the glory of Christ by the Holy Spirit's creative work, the salvation of the world is taking place. It is for this reason that the world must not be prematurely written off: Jesus Christ came to save the world, and the Holy Spirit continues that saving work through the church in the present time. The church would do well to remember that its proclamation creates new creation now as it promises the fulfillment of all of God's future plans for new creation – the Word is always doing what it says.

Finally, the Spirit is breaking eternity into time in its work in the reign of God, the 'hour' of the glorification of God writ large. The Spirit works the past into the present by the performative proclamation of Jesus Christ, who was born, walked, taught, was crucified, and rose again in temporal actuality. Jesus Christ was an actual human being, and though all of history is created through him, in particularity he lived in a very brief period of time. But where the Spirit causes two or more to gather in the name of Christ, Christ is there with them – this is the Spirit working past performative promise into present perception, to the glory of itself along with Christ and God the Creator. In the present, the Spirit is at work in the world, creating the church and bringing it through continual death and resurrection, working a new creation, and through this new creation forming the body of Christ for the good of the world. The future hour of God's final glory is also under the auspices of the Spirit, and the Spirit is creating that hour in the body of Christ through the preaching of God's promised future, the drowning of the old and new creation of justification in Baptism, and the nourishment of the testament of Christ through the Lord's Supper. These means of grace belong to the church for the good of the world: through them, the Spirit is bringing the eschaton to the present and creating faith in the promise that Christ will come again and the reign of God will be complete.

Until the reign of God comes in fullness, however, the Spirit continues to create the church, the body of Christ for the good of the world. But unlike so many other spirits at work in the world, this Spirit makes no promises save one: to be a Christian is to become one with God the creator through the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ:

It is not the religious act that makes the Christian, but participation in the sufferings of God in the secular life. That is metanoia: not in the first place thinking about one's own needs, problems, sins, and fears, but allowing oneself to be caught up into the way of Jesus Christ, into the messianic event…There is nothing of the religious method here. The "religious act" is always something partial; "faith" is something whole, involving the whole of one's life. Jesus calls people, not to a new religion, but to life.[6]

God has given the world for the good of the Spirit, that life might come through the calling of Christ through the Spirit's proclamation. We as the body of Christ have the privilege of participating in that calling, in that gathering, in that living to which God is calling the world. That participation is also the completion that the Spirit works in us: when we are gathered into the body of Christ and sent into the world, the reign of God is established in us as well. Where the Spirit is calling us into the way of Christ, a new creation is brought to life – that life is the reign of God, and it lives where we live, in Christ, for the sake of the world.

---

[1] Scriptural subheading from Harper-Collins Study Bible, NRSV. Copyright 1989, Wayne A. Meeks, ed. p. 2044.

[2] Romans 8.22

[3] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in a letter to Eberhard Bethge, 5 May 1944. Excerpted from A Testament To Freedom: The Essential Writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Geffrey B. Kelly & F. Burton Nelson, ed. Copyright 1995, HarperSanFransisco, pub. p. 504.

[4] John 1.10 (NRSV)

[5] Bonhoeffer, to Bethge, 27 June 1944. ATTF, pp. 507-508. (emphasis mine)

[6] Bonhoeffer, to Bethge, 18 July 1944. ATTF, p. 509.

The image is "Creation" from the Saint John's Bible Project.

Lenten Devotions: Weighing In

"¹⁰From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so. ¹¹Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and brackish water? ¹²Can a fig tree, my brothers and sisters, yield olives, or a grapevine figs? No more can salt water yield fresh.

¹³Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. ¹⁴But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. ¹⁵Such wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, devilish. ¹⁶For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind. ¹⁷But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. ¹⁸And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace." James 3.10-18

At long last, I’m going to weigh in on the Veritas Forum held here at Iowa State last Friday and Saturday. I know, I know – you’ve all been waiting breathlessly. Well, here it is.

Philosopher and theologian Dr. Peter Kreeft of Boston College was the featured speaker on the topic “The Problem of Evil and Suffering” Friday night and “The Difficulty of being a Christian in an Academic Setting” and “Rationality of Belief in God” on Saturday morning. I was really hoping for a thought-provoking, inspiring collection of lectures and conversations that would address some pertinent and timely issues, especially regarding suffering and evil.

Unfortunately, I was ultimately left disappointed by the entire weekend. Dr. Kreeft is a very intelligent man, and he applies his considerable intellect to many important questions. I plan to read some of his works, most notably Christianity for Modern Pagans: Pascal’s Pensees and Making Sense Out of Suffering, the work many were expecting would inform Friday night’s lecture. It may have done precisely that – not having read any of Kreeft’s published works, I can’t comment one way or another. But what I saw and heard was immensely disappointing to me, both as a Christian in general and as a theologian/philosopher in particular.

At the beginning of the night, the student host welcomed the large crowd and said that all were welcome, including “skeptics.” If I had been a skeptic in the room that night, the end of that sentence would have been the last moment I honestly felt welcome in the auditorium. Instead of a lecture dealing with what I’ll call non-consequential suffering, or suffering that has no immediate moral cause or source (for example, the earthquakes in Haiti, which obviously have geological cause but not moral cause), Dr. Kreeft launched into a discussion of human evil and suffering. In essence, the argument was this: God allows human evil because God allows human free will. Humanity always has the option of choosing evil instead of good. Even Hitler, with all the atrocities he spearheaded, is not a cause for disbelief in God – Hitler is, rather, cause for belief in human causality when it comes to evil. In addition, whenever atheism or agnosticism were raised, there was a very clear sense from Dr. Kreeft that he thinks such beliefs are as much an intellectual failing as a spiritual issue. At one point, he made the argument that “if someone told me that 50% of this audience were Martians, at the very least I’d want to find out if it were true, so I could know who the Martians are.” Apparently atheists and agnostics just aren’t very curious people? This was a major strike against the evening as a whole, in my opinion: opening a lecture welcoming divergent viewpoints is well and good, but if a basic level of respect for divergent beliefs isn’t kept, any welcome becomes worthless in a heartbeat.

I’ll be honest: I found the lecture and questions following it to be scattered, pointless and almost banal. Dr. Kreeft is from the branch of the Roman Catholic church dedicated to the intellectual pursuit of the faith, which of course is necessary, but not the whole of the faith. He also holds to a very authoritarian view of faith, from what I can remember and from this quote, which really does sum up the essence of the Friday lecture in my mind:

‘What is God's Answer to Human Suffering? The answer must be someone, not just something. For the problem (suffering) is about someone (God—why does he... why doesn't he ...?) rather than just something. To question God's goodness is not just an intellectual experiment. It is rebellion or tears. It is a little child with tears in its eyes looking up at Daddy and weeping, "Why?" The hurt child needs not so much explanations as reassurances. And that is what we get: the reassurance of the Father in the person of Jesus, "he who has seen me has seen the Father"’[1]

This is all well and good for those moments of suffering that indeed rise from human rebellion. But what about the families torn apart by the earthquake in Haiti? What about the people still trying to rebuild New Orleans? What about the child whose father abuses her? The husband whose wife steals from him? The parent neglected by her children, tossed into a nursing home and left there to rot? These are the people who live in Job’s circumstances, and even though God reminded Job that God, not Job, is in charge, God also acknowledged that Job’s complaint about his undeserved suffering was right and proper. To my remembrance, Dr. Kreeft never once acknowledged that some suffering is unjust and not the result of any action or consequence, when it was precisely that sort of suffering I was hoping he would address and lead us to ponder and consider.

I’m not saying I have any more answers: I am saying that it seems to me we didn’t even get to ask the important questions. Answering the wrong questions well is the height of intellectual folly, a prime example of theology done for its own sake rather than for the sake of proclamation, and I felt like we spent the entire Forum chasing after the wrong questions and answering them with the sort of intellectual Christian snobbery that always seems to rear its head among the most intense Christian apologists. There was nary a moment of promise or good news to be heard; no mercy, gentleness or peaceable wisdom, which was my greatest hope for the weekend. Thus I’m disappointed, and hopeful that when the next Forum comes around, some more important questions are raised, and some more gracious answers are offered.

Grace & peace,

Pastor Scott

---

[1] http://www.peterkreeft.com/topics/suffering.htm

Setting Boundaries

The saga of sexuality continues within the ELCA. As it does, I'm more and more curious about how we all set certain boundaries, where we set them, and how blind we can be (all of us) to the sometimes arbitrary nature of how we order our lives.

In some places, the freedom to call and ordain gay and lesbian pastors in committed monogamous publicly accountable relationships is a cause for rejoicing. There are many such persons already serving congregations within the ELCA, some openly (and bearing the subsequent censure required by current ELCA policy) and some covertly. As I read and reflect upon the work of the Sexuality Task Force and the resolutions passed at the 2009 Churchwide Assembly, I sense that the intent was always to allow the diversity of interpretations regarding same-gender human relationships to be reflected in the ministerium of the church. That is to say, we are a church that does not have a unified understanding of same-gender relationships - and our ordained ministers may reflect the diversity which exists within the church, freely and openly.

But for some, this is a step too far. Thus my pondering of boundaries and arbitrariness. I simply don't understand why it is THIS issue that must be the line in the sand. And I continue to be utterly flummoxed by how little I agree with certain segments of the church in which I serve. I mean this in a sense of amazement, not of anger: how is it that David Yeago, Michael Root and I can be educated in the same basic theological vein and yet be so wildly different in how we interpret our Lutheran faith?

I didn't live through the debates surrounding the ordination of women; most of the ELCA's predecessors made that change before I was born. But thirty five or so years after the fact, I see that the consequences of doing that new thing has given us a number of incredibly faithful pastors who, had our church set its boundaries in a different place, would have been denied the opportunity to follow their calling to ministry. And, I feel compelled to note, there are some lousy female pastors who got calls because of this as well - and there will be lousy gay pastors getting calls because the ELCA has opened the door for them. They'll fit in nicely with the lousy straight male pastors, never you fear.

I guess what I'm pondering lately is, why this issue is, for some, the line in the sand that must not be crossed. There are a lot of passages in scripture we have chosen, actively or passively, to violate: why, for some, is this issue the one upon which scripture and the tradition of the church must stand or fall? Why don't we get this worked up over people, like myself, who like blood sausage? Or polyester blend shirts? Or farmers like my Dad who combine every row of their crops? Or the millions of men who shave? All of those items are found in Leviticus 19, one chapter after the verses in Leviticus 18 which list same-gender sexual intercourse among the things forbidden to God's people. And I don't mean the question in a facetious, "I can quote more Bible verses than you" sense, either - I'm honestly trying to figure out, for myself, why my own understanding of the boundaries has changed, and what that means for the future of my own ministry in this church.

I don't claim to have a definitive answer for any of this. In fact, the longer I listen to us bicker, the more distrustful I am of the certain and the confident. How we live together seems more and more a matter to be approached with great humility and a willingness to listen. I am becoming convinced that Meldenius was right:

In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas.

In necessary things, unity; in doubtful things, freedom; in all things, charity.

Grace & peace,

Scott

Snow and Shane

Rumor has it that Ames is going to be buried under eighteen feet of snow and ice today and tomorrow. I've been trapping rabbits in the backyard since yesterday afternoon, since it's either that or eat one of the cats when things get really bad.

Just kidding, of course. We DID get our first snow of the year yesterday, and it was lovely. More last night, and our neighbor with the snowthrower cleared our driveway for us - also lovely. And it does look like a pretty good storm is heading our way. Might be a good night for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

I'll have another post later today, but I wanted to share this letter from Shane Claiborne that was printed in Esquire. It's been making the rounds on Facebook and other spots, and it's worth the read.

Stay warm, friends!
Scott

Good Book Groups Make Good Pastors

"God is utterly committed to set the world right in the end. This doctrine, like that of resurrection itself, is held firmly in place by the belief in God as creator, on the one side, and the belief in his goodness, on the other. And that setting right must necesarily involve the elimination of all that distorts God's good and lovely creation and in particular of all that defaces his image-bearing human creatures. Not to put to fine a point on it, there will be no barbed wire in the kingdom of God. And those whose whole being has become dependent upon barbed wire will have no place there, either."

Bishop N.T. Wright
Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven,
the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church

There are days when being a pastor doesn't involve much. On those days, you find yourself tending to the details of administrivia, as a few of my blogger friends have put it; picking hymns, moving around the building and putting things where they belong, thinking about the nuts and bolts of the day-to-day operation and administration of a community of faith. You buy communion wine, make sure someone's baking the bread, pick up some napkins from the store, figure out what kind of donut holes you should have for Bible Study on Sunday morning. And, for God's sake, don't forget the coffee. :-) Like most jobs, these kind of days make up a lot of what I do - they are unremarkable, but generally enjoyable as well.

Then you have days like today. Days like today are what make what I do a vocation, not just a job. We have a group of folks meeting at University Lutheran Center every Friday to read and discuss books. I call it Theology for Lunch, though in truth there's only a few of us who eat and the group predates my time here, so it's more a title to go on the calendar than anything else. Currently we're reading the book quoted above, and after almost three months of slogging through introductory stuff, today we finally hit the meat of the matter. My heavens, was it ever a good conversation today.

There are a lot of reasons to love a group like this. For one thing, we can disagree without demonizing, a rare commodity. Granted, we're a fairly cohesive group politically and theologically, but we do have varying opinions on matters, and, more importantly, a few members who are unwilling to let generalizations and poorly-explained arguments slide. You better bring your "A" game to this group, and it better be good. At the same time, we've been together long enough that we can confess to ignorance, stereotyping and frustration with certain aspects of our lives. The combination of willingness to argue and agreement to respect makes for a lot of good discussion.

In the chapter we read for today, "Purgatory, Paradise and Hell," Wright really made some spectacularly cogent arguments toward what I think is a more fruitful understanding of, as he calls it, "life after life after death." I especially connected with the idea that even though God is indeed determined to right the wrongs of this world, God is NOT interested in maintaining the divisions we so painstakingly construct between ourselves. When we were discussing the paragraph quoted above, there were a number of different images people admitted came to their minds: the U.S. Mexican border and our problems dealing with immigration, gated communities, and, most importantly, I believe, Christians who seem to base their entire existence on proving they know exactly who is in and who is out when it comes to salvation. Any time the idea of heaven and hell get weaponized, Wright argues, we're missing the whole point, and I agree wholeheartedly.

One of the reasons I remain an ELCA Lutheran is because in our theology I find precious little evidence of walls and barbed wire constructed for their own sake. The Augsburg Confession, our "constitution of faith," if you will, states that preaching of the gospel and administration of the sacraments are all that is required for the unity of the church. Everything else is adiaphora, matters about which we are free to decide what seems best in our local ministries. This can lead to an ungodly mess at times - witness the current brouhahas brewing over sex and money in our denomination. But these things are not the pillars upon which the church stands or falls, contrary to what some will say. So long as we have only the gospel and the sacraments, the preaching and the presence of Christ in His church, we have all that is necessary.

One of the things that got Jesus most in trouble with the authorities in his day was the way he kept tearing down walls they had built to increase their power. It seems to me God's been doing that for quite some time: we find ways to box God in so we can be in control, God gets busy busting loose and tearing down the spiritual barbed wire we've so painstakingly used to imprison ourselves. Frost was right: "Something there is that doesn't love a wall," and today it seems to me that God, also, doesn't love a wall. "...no barbed wire in the kingdom of God." Sounds good to me.

Grace and peace,
Scott

Creativity and the Priesthood of All Believers

We're going to try something new at Sunday morning worship in a few weeks. We're going to have a potluck sermon.

Lutherans are famous for potluck dinners, where each participant brings something and the community eats, well, communally. It's the subject of many jokes, of course, most notably in The Lutheran Handbook, where the authors offer practical advice such as "What To Bring To A Church Potluck (By Region)," breaking it down into the three staples (salad, casserole, dessert) and insisting that in lieu of any of the above, any gelatin mixed with fruit, miniature marshmallows and/or shredded carrots is a perfectly acceptable substitute. But I digress.

The point of the potluck is, of course, that all may be fed without one person being responsible for the feast. Everyone has their favorites, and in long-established communities some people are depended upon for certain dishes. My mother's Butterfinger Dessert is always a hit, but I'm making a bit of a name for myself with my Potatoes and Peppers. My favorite thing about potlucks is the sheer variety you can get. A plate filled with little helpings of many different dishes is just heavenly, in my opinion, and I usually go back to hit the stuff for which I didn't have room on my plate the first time through.

That's kind of the point of the potluck sermon as well. Unfortunately, for all that the church encourages people to bring their own gifts to meals, we don't have a very good track record at encouraging people to bring their own gifts into worship, especially the younger members of our communities. It's not intentional - most every church I know wishes that more folks would be active participants in worship. And I'm not sure what the reason behind the problem may be, either. But the end result is this: our campus ministry worship could very easily become dominated by the same small group of folks, with myself at the center of it all, and that's just not healthy for any faith community.

So here's what we're going to do. The readings for the first Sunday in Advent will be posted online and at University Lutheran Center over the next few weeks, and people will be encouraged to use their gifts to preach on the first Sunday in Advent. It's going to be open media: paint, write a poem, sing a song, write a reflection, dance - the format can be whatever you want it to be. What matters is that people understand that we all have something to offer when it comes to interpreting God's word in the world in which we live. True, not everyone has the same gifts for proclamation - but heck, people who bring KFC to potlucks are still feeding their neighbors, aren't they? So if it's a U2 video you want to share, have at it - just bring it and offer it to the group, and see what God might have to say.

I have no idea how effective this is going to be. It could flop - it might be me and one other brave soul offering something to the community. But there's a need for all of us to understand that worship isn't solely the province of the professionals. We pastors are called to equip the saints for ministry, not to do it for them, just as a potluck dinner isn't a potluck dinner if just one person is doing the cooking. Here's hoping everyone gets a taste of the same delight I feel when I wolf down a plate of yummy potluck food - and that everyone gets fed well, too.

Grace & peace,
Scott

ps: I just found out that the Rev. Dr. Herbert Brokering died over the weekend. His hymn "Earth and All Stars" is a perfectly appropriate hymn for this kind of thing: the idea of classrooms, labs and loud-boiling test tubes singing a song to God is not the sort of thing we tend to expect, but it's true nonetheless. Here's singer/songwriter Jonathan Rundman leading a congregation in singing "Earth and All Stars"


pps: I forgot to add that this idea was generated by this post at A Church for Starving Artists. You really should read that blog if you're at all interested in ministry that encompasses both the 'traditional' Protestant folks and those who are interested in doing and trying new ways to embody the faith.

The Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification, 10 Years Later

Tomorrow night, representatives of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the Roman Catholic Church, and the United Methodist Church will gather in Chicago to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the signing of the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification. It was, and remains, a significant moment in the relationship between Lutherans and Roman Catholics, who were the first to be separated by the condemnations of the Reformation and subsequent disagreements.

Here's the thing, though: the JDDJ isn't worth much more than the paper on which it is printed.

Don't misunderstand: our relationship with our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters is better now than it has been for centuries, and that is a good thing, worthy of celebration. But let's not pretend that unity exists where it does not, and the JDDJ has not removed the difference between us in how we view salvation:



The good Cardinal George shows us the difference that still exists between Lutherans and Roman Catholics on the doctrine of justification. Lutherans believe that works are not meritorious - that, in fact, works can be a dangerous distraction from the grace freely and fully given by Christ without our cooperation or worthiness. As Luther himself said, "The Law says, 'Do this,' and it is never done. Grace says, 'believe this,' and everything is already done."

This is not to say that Lutherans despise works, either - we merely note that their place is completely separated from salvation. Good works are the deeds of one who has already been saved by the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ. Good works are an important part of the faith we share as Christians; indeed, Luther also described Christians as "most free lords of all, subject to none, and most dutiful servants of all, subject to all." As Paul writes in Galatians, "For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but rhough love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" Works are important - they are the means by which we live out the grace God has bestowed upon us. But a theology that confesses that works are meritorious is not a salvation of justification by grace through faith apart from the works of the law, and we shouldn't pretend that it is.

Ten years ago, Lutherans and Roman Catholics gathered at a church in Augsburg to sign a document stating that we no longer condemn each other as we once had. That, in itself, is a noteworthy accomplishment in the history of our blessed church, the Body of Christ in which we are indeed one regardless of what our differences may be. Those differences remain, however, and should not be minimized or glossed over. Let us continue to converse with one another, to speak the truth to each other, and pray for the day when we can, at last, celebrate an agreement about salvation upon which we fully and completely agree.

Grace & peace,
Scott

The picture is the pulpit in the Schlosskirche (Castle Church) in Lutherstadt-Wittenberg, Germany. Luther's tomb is just under the pulpit.

The Church I Know, The Church You Know

I just finished His Dark Materials for the second time, this time in audio format. While I enjoyed the story again, and I think Philip Pullman is a remarkably talented writer, I found myself also frustrated yet again with his narrow-minded approach to religion and the Christian church. It is unfortunate that so many people base so much of their anger against organized religion on what appears to be such a small portion of the church.

Pullman's characters discover that the Church, in Lyra's world in particular, is firmly dedicated to grasping and holding power, to controlling wills and even to taking life to protect their position and power. I remember thinking as I read, "if the Church I serve were really like this, I'd want to join Lord Azriel and take it out, too!" There is nothing wrong with wanting to do away with a corrupt, power-hungry, politically driven church. The problem comes when one takes one's picture of the whole from a snapshot of the lunatic fringe.

This is not the church I know. The church I know is dedicated to creation, to nourishment, to helping people discover their gifts and use them for the benefit of the world. Have we always wanted to do this? Not at all: in some periods of time, the church was guilty of exactly the type of sins Pullman levies in his fiction. But not presently, not in any way, shape or form that resembles the characterization in this series.

It is disheartening to think that a mind as obviously gifted as Philip Pullman's has been so clouded against this church I love so dearly. The church we see is the church we know, and someone (or, more likely, a whole congregation of someones) gave Philip Pullman a vision of the church that is far different from the church I know. That, unfortunately, leaves us with very different views of the church, even though we agree about corruption, legalism and the danger of mixing power and religion. It takes a great story and makes it merely good, with the caveat that could have been offered magnified into an outright condemnation I'm not sure is deserved. The church Pullman knows deserved rebuke: the church I know would accept it gladly. It's too bad we'll likely never have the chance to see that happen.

The Vocation of Parenting

Liz asked a pretty serious question over at her place the other day:

I want to ask you - parents and parents-to-be - what does a vocation of parenting look like to you? What do you feel you are called to be for your kids? What do you feel the need to model in your homes? What do you love best about your kids? And what do you hope for them in the future? Even if you don't have kids yet I think these are important questions to think about. Maybe by thinking about them now I'll have some clue about how to proceed when I do in fact become a mother. So blogland, please share your thoughts with me. I'm very curious.

It's such an intriguing question that I thought it warranted a blog post instead of a comment at her place. That and I'm not getting any closer to post 700 this week - it's just not been a blogging type of week. Too busy! I know, that's a cop-out, but it's the truth. Anyway, this is post #677 and I promise we'll get to #700 before the end of the month.

So, the vocation of parenting. What does it look like to me? Massive confusion. :-) Actually, 99% of the time it is the greatest privilege and burden any of us can ever bear. There's a movie where Keanu Reeves notes that you have to have a license for damn near everything except bearing children; it's one of the most painfully correct movie lines I've ever heard (and the fact that Mr. Whoa utters it always blows my mind a little, too). The thought of what happens to my girls if I screw up too often is ever-present. I'm called to be a lot of things to my girls: provider, supporter, comforter, discipline-giver, teacher, etc. But the deepest calling I have as a parent (and I think Kristin would agree with me on this) is to be one who loves them deeply and models a giving, nurturing love for my spouse and the rest of my family as well. Even the great mistakes I'll make will be less damaging if they are made in deep love.

What do I love best about my kids? Well, in Ainsley it is her joy. We have been so blessed by the presence of this happy little girl in our lives. Some of that comes from our love for her, we know, but not nearly as much as she gives. She is just a joyful kid and we love her all the more for it. Alanna, well, she's only now becoming something more than a newborn, so we are just now beginning to discover who she is and what we'll love about her in time. The adventure, of course, is part of the fun.

Future hopes? As Liz noted, it's not for success and wealth (well, at least primarily it's not those things): we hope for strong faith, deep joy, and great love. Get those three, and everything else takes care of itself, as far as I'm concerned. I've seen no evidence to the contrary in my 34 years.

So, that's parenting in a nutshell for me. Comments? I welcome them. Thanks for reading.