Faith

Classically defined, faith includes both assent to some set of propositions and trust. While at times I have struggled with both aspects of faith, I think I have consistently struggled more with trust. But as I thought about it this morning, it seems that at the heart of distrust is pride or arrogance.

For example, when I don’t trust someone to do something I asked her to do, I stand around, looking over her shoulder, making sure she does it exactly the way I wanted her to do whatever the task is. In other words, I micromanage the situation not believing that she can accomplish the task just fine and not trusting that her way to accomplish this task might not only be just as good as mine, but better.

I have a friend who is generally convinced that if she is not involved in some project, be that coaching her kid’s sports team, sitting on some committee or other, or any number of other activities that touch her world, the task will be done poorly (‘poorly’ = ‘not the way she would do it’). And she wonders why she is so busy.

I think that lack of trust in God runs pretty much the same way. Ultimately, we think we are better at running our lives than God is. After all, if we ran our lives we would have prevented the various hurtful and difficult situations we have faced. In short, we can’t trust that God’s plan is the best plan. We want things our way. Submission to God’s plan means letting go of our own.

But ultimately, that is what we must do. The more we choose our own plan and resist God’s plan, the further we will be from the true joy we experience in communion with God. To be like Christ, our ultimate good, includes not only sharing in his glory, but sharing in his suffering, as Paul makes clear (e.g., Phil. 3:10; Rom. 8:17). The more we insist on our own way, the less like Christ we will be.

Passing the Peace

In the many traditions, passing the peace is an established element of worship. Despite my congregation’s attention to liturgy, this particular part of the liturgy is not yet something that has been included in our worship services.

I don’t know the actual background for this practice, but today’s gospel reading was from Matthew 5:21-24. Here Jesus is giving instruction about murder. It is one of the “antithesis” statements of Jesus. You know, those statements where Jesus says “you have heard it said…..but I say…” Generally, Jesus broadens the law he is dealing with in ways that can make nearly anyone uncomfortable.

In this particular antithesis, Jesus broadens the prohibition against murder to include anger against another person. Anger against a brother or sister leaves one “subject to judgment.”

Note that Jesus does not say “anger against a brother or sister for no good reason but if you have a good reason – e.g., that person has wronged you in some way – go ahead and be angry.” Nope. Jesus simply says anger against your brother or sister.

Just after explaining this prohibition Jesus says, “Therefore…” – which is always a word we should pay attention to – “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to that person; then come and offer your gift.”

Part of worship is offering our gifts (praise, offerings, etc.) in response to God’s gift of salvation. It seems like Jesus is saying, if you are not reconciled to your brother or sister, get that taken care of first or your gift doesn’t mean much. Or another way to put it might be ‘don’t bring your gifts to me until you have taken the gift of reconciliation that I have offered to you, and offered that gift to your brother or sister.’

So what does passing the peace have to do with this? When we offer those around us the peace of Christ, we are giving them the gift Christ has given us – peace. And that is probably a good enough reason to do it.

But let me tell a story. Some years ago, I happened to be sitting near someone who had done a great wrong to a close family member who I loved very much. This wrong was fresh, only a week or so old. When asked to pass the peace, I turned around only to see this person. I didn’t want to offer him Christ’s peace. I wanted to slap him. What I found, however, was that as I looked him in the eye and reached out my hand to him and said, “the peace of Christ be with you,” something inside me started to melt.

I realized that whatever wrong he had done, he was no less deserving of Christ’s peace than I was. He was God’s child the same as me. And that little tiny gesture, allowed healing to begin in my heart.

When we offer someone the peace of Christ, we are offering them life. And isn’t that exactly the right thing to do in every worship service?

Free Diving, Extreme Sports, and the Sixth Commandment

I don’t watch much TV but this past week I happened to tune in to the weekly news and interest show, 60 Minutes. One of the stories was on a sport called “free diving.” I had not heard of it before and watched with interest, then dismay, and then disgust.

For some time, I have been concerned by the growth in popularity of what are known as extreme sports. The name of this category really says it all. These sports are all about pushing the limits: of the human body, of the environment, of physics – whatever. And the purpose appears to be nothing more than the thrill of a momentary adrenalin rush.

Culturally, I think that these sorts of things are related to the increasing narcissism in North America. In extreme forms narcissism is a psychological disorder. Note the following definition: “a mental disorder characterized by extreme self-absorption, an exaggerated sense of self-importance, and a need for attention and admiration from others.” (http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/narcissism)

According to many cultural analysts, narcissistic behavior characterizes an ever increasing segment of North Americans. In educational circles, dealing with this trend among students is receiving more and more attention.  If you think that this is not a problem among Christians, think again.

So where does free diving fit into all of this?

I think it exemplifies the most extreme of the extreme sports and as such, helps identify the inherent problems, from a Christian perspective, with these sports.

Free diving is the practice of learning to hold one’s breath for an extremely long time (upwards of 4 minutes) while diving to depths of more than 350 feet. There are controls. Most of the professional divers have a team with them to help them if they black out, resuscitate them if necessary, etc. But the bottom line is, this so-called sport can – and does – kill, regularly.

The 60 Minutes piece opened with scenes of a young man who was attempting to beat a previous U.S. record. He made it up but soon after lost consciousness. About an hour later, he was pronounced dead. About two months ago, the wife of a husband-wife diving team also died while attempting a potentially record-setting dive.

The divers shown demonstrating free-diving on the Sunday episode were interesting. The young man did complete his dive, but said that every time he dives he “hears a voice” telling him he is going to die. The young man’s mother is shown crying on the shore while she waits for him to re-surface.

The young woman on the show who also successfully completed her dive is shown kissing her young daughter good-bye before she goes out. Her reason for diving? The feeling she gets when she is down there.

Neither of these people seem to care about anyone’s feelings but their own, however. The young man is apparently oblivious to the stress this causes for the people around him, and the young woman does not seem to recognize that her temporary self-gratification, should it go horribly wrong, will leave her young daughter motherless. The purpose is to break the next record until, apparently, no more records can be broken.

For a non-Christian, perhaps we can excuse this sort of reckless disregard for not only the people around us, but also for the life they have been given. But for a Christian, this is nothing short of a violation of the sixth commandment: you shall not kill, a commandment that the church has always recognized includes the killing of oneself.

If we are to be salt and light in the world, how should the Christian community respond to the growing popularity of extreme sports, sports designed to put one’s life in peril? That’s a tough question to some degree. But blindly accepting what is trendy is not the call of Christian discipleship. Christian discipleship is the polar opposite of the self-gratification we see reflected in the extreme in these sports. Christian discipleship is self-denial for the sake of others and the glory of God.

http://www.cbsnews.com/news/death-defying-free-dives-push-boundaries/

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=125625

A Deadly Book

This week I, along with many others, read with horror the story of North Korean people who were executed by firing squad for possessing a Bible. It turns out that the Kim regime thinks this book is dangerous, that it could displace Kim-worship with something else and could eventually lead to rebellion.

So, as it was reported, Christians were publicly executed along with other enemies of the Kim regime. More than 10,000 spectators were forced to watch this gruesome event.

Of course, there are many areas of the world where Christians suffer because of their faith. But when I hear a report like this one, I can't help but wonder about our own, rather complacent form of North American Christianity. And I also get just a little more than irate when I hear North American Christians speak about "persecution" as being mocked in the workplace or some other public arena because of their faith.

The fact is, most of us don't have a clue what persecution is. Worse yet, I doubt many in our congregations could bear up under the sort of severe persecution suffered in many parts of the world. 

We don't think twice about owning a Bible. My own family probably has more than 10 Bibles in the house.  And we rarely think about this book, this Word, as subversive. Perhaps because we have so domesticated the stories of God's work in the world that we barely even notice that the call to discipleship is, as Karl Barth wrote, a call to die. But look at the folks we think of as heroes: Abraham, David, Mary, Ruth, Paul, to name a few. Not exactly easy lives. 

Perhaps in the coming weeks as we read our Bibles, let's acknowledge the fact that in many areas of the world, these "wonderful words of life," are also deadly words. And then follow that recognition by praying for the safety and religious freedom of our persecuted brothers and sisters in Christ.

Seek the Peace of the City

"Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile." Jer. 29:7

This was part of my morning reading today. So often this verse is used as a call to minister in an urban area. And that may be a fine application. But it seems to me that the command is much broader than that. The "city" in which we exiles is the whole world, not just some particular urban area.

The bible frequently portrays God's people as aliens, wanderers. Peter calls us "strangers and aliens" in this world, a world that Paul tells us we are to be in but not of. God's people are not primarily citizens of this kingdom, but of the heavenly kingdom. We wait not all that patiently for the full manifestation of that kingdom.

But in the meantime, while in exile, we must pray for the peace and prosperity of the world we inhabit, a world groaning under the weight of sin. We must seek the shalom - the well-being - of the world. That means not just our little corner of that world, but the world we never see except in pictures and news broadcasts, a world 1/2 way around the globe.

So what might seeking the shalom of the world look like?

I suppose there a numerous answers to that question, but I will offer just a few possibilities. It means caring for creation. Issues like climate change and our role in it affects not just us, but the whole planet. If our use of fossil fuels contributes, even in a small way, to climate change that causes parts of our world to suffer more drought, storms, and other problems that make crop production and life itself difficult, shouldn't we at least try to figure out what we can do to help?

Seeking the shalom of the world might mean addressing issues of justice and mercy. Ministering to those on the margins - the weak, poor, mentally ill, children, and elderly, to name a few. One does not need to go far to find these people. One need only go to our schools, hospitals, nursing homes, and streets to find folks who have been all but abandoned by their families, and society as a whole.

But most importantly, we need to be passionate about witnessing to the love of God in Jesus Christ. Shalom will never be found through social programs, self-help, or any other human means, regardless of the good these things might do. Shalom can and will only be found in Christ.

p.s.
For those of my regular readers, I am sorry for the long delay since I wrote last. I have taken on some new responsibilities in the past few months and have not had much time to write. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Life is Hard

It struck me on the way home today, that for so many people life is hard.

I have mentioned before that I ride the bus to and from work. Most people that ride the bus in this city are not even remotely middle class. But today, because I sat toward the back of the bus rather than the front, I noticed this even more.

Many of my fellow travelers have no other means of transportation and use multiple transfers to get from point “a” to point “b.” In other words, a trip to the doctor that would take you or I 15 minutes, could take one of these people 30-40 minutes.

Many work menial jobs. There were four people who had on uniforms from fast food places. There was a pregnant mom trying to manage three children, a stroller, and two bags. Her tone was a little harsh when she directed her little boy to sit down. But I noticed how tired she looked and wondered to myself how far they had already traveled before this ride.

There were little kids, maybe 10 years old, unaccompanied by a parent making their way home from school. Out in the suburbs where I live, any number of parents pick up their children from the bus stop. These little folks get off and head home alone, almost certainly to an empty house. And the house is likely not empty because the parent does not want to be there for their child, but because the parent cannot be there because he or she is at work.

And then I remembered my time in Jakarta last January. And the conditions for some of the people I saw there make the conditions of those on the bus look good.

With all of this in front of me, I thought of the “Occupy Wall Street” people. Certainly Wall Street has its problems, moral and otherwise. But I have a hunch that none of the Occupy people were wondering where their next meal would be coming from nor where they would sleep. My take on that movement was that it was not about having basic needs met, but about not having wants met. And the distance between needs and wants is huge.

Bringing this a little closer to home, I realize that most of the difficulties I have faced in life, are difficulties that impacted my perceived happiness – issues of “want” not “need.” Sure, there are any number of things I wish could be different. And I can think of sets of circumstances where I would be happier (although one never really knows if that would be the case). But the sorts of ongoing, daily difficulties that my fellow travelers face have rarely, if ever crossed my radar screen.

But the truth I was reminded of on the bus today is that for the vast majority of people in the world, life is hard. The corresponding truth is that I must be grateful to God for the gifts he has entrusted to me, and that love for those who have been given less is the practical outworking of that gratitude.

Church

I want to begin by telling you that I love the church, and I love my church. I love the people first of all.  And I love our pastors, especially our new pastor of preaching.

I also love the way our particular church has chosen to worship. Our liturgy, our music, even the worship space draws us to reflect on our Triune God, the only Holy One. Indeed, the formality of our worship is one of the things that drew my husband and I to our current church.

But today something happened that made me wonder if sometimes, our formality overwhelms opportunity. Let me explain.

We worship in a downtown, urban area. There are several homeless shelters within a block or two of our building. As a congregation, we are involved in any number of ministries that assist this needy population and it is not uncommon for some of our needy neighbors to worship with us on Sunday morning.

Within minutes of the beginning of the sermon, a woman, obviously from the neighborhood, walked up the center aisle, bag and all, and sat in the second bench from the front. Her hair was rather messy, her bag was full of who knows what, and she was dressed in jeans – not typical apparel at our church. She sat there for a few minutes, then she got up, and walked out without saying a word, just as she had walked in a few minutes earlier.

A couple of minutes later, she walked back up the center aisle, back to the second bench. All of this happened in front of us: the congregation, the choir, and the pastors.

But no one said or did anything.

Not a word of kindness. Not a gesture of love. Not a question about what she might be seeking. Not even an offer to pray for her, although I would suspect many, like me, were doing exactly that. No one even got up and sat next to her. Me included.

A few minutes late, she got up and walked out again.

Unbeknownst to me, one of our pastors and several of our members did attend to her in the back of church. I was very happy about that.

But I couldn’t help but wonder, especially in the middle of a sermon on the church as family and unconditional love for others, whether the real sermon was not the one being preached, but the potential sermon sitting in our second row. And despite the help we offered, I still can’t help but wonder whether a sermon acted out wouldn’t have been more effective than the spoken words we heard today.