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Love Without Possession

When I run, I listen to audiobooks. Recently, for the third time, I listened to The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, by Father James Martin, SJ. The basic principle is that the Ignatian way, that is, the path laid out by Ignatius Loyola for the Society of Jesus, is useful for everyone who seeks a deeper spiritual life. The book covers a wide range of topics, including a few chapters on the basic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

Loyola’s original writings in the 16th century give chastity short shrift, but Martin brings a modern perspective on relationships to bear on this concept. He goes beyond the simplistic mapping of chastity to celibacy. Instead, he talks about chaste love as the root of almost all relationships, such as friendship.

Chaste love is a love without possession. It is a recognition that you and the other person have a connection, but it is not exclusive and not controlling. As I read Martin’s insights on friendship, I recognized some mistakes I have made in the past. Every relationship needs balance; there have certainly been times when I have asked more of my friends than was reasonable. I have been a taker more than a giver. I have ignored my friends’ other commitments, relationships, interests, and desires, prioritizing my own needs instead. I would like to think that I’m a better friend now than I have been in the past, partly due to improved mental and spiritual health, but it is always a work in progress.

God has a way of speaking to me through books and life experiences, in ways that are not so obvious at the time. As I listened to this section of the book, I figured it was God’s way of gently chiding me for my past deficiencies and encouraging me on a path to better, healthier friendships.

Then a close friend told me she was moving away. I am still working towards accepting the reality of the situation. But the concept to which I’m clinging as hard as I can is love without possession. Friends must be free to grow and change. They must be free to live and to love as they are able, not as I would want them to. God places a claim on each person’s life; that claim is higher than any claim I might make.

Francis Xavier was one of the founders of the Society of Jesus. He and Loyola were extremely close friends. Still, there came a time when they both recognized the need for Xavier to leave on a missionary journey to the Far East. Loyola, as the head of the order, had the authority to send Xavier or not, according to his discernment and will. He knew that if Xavier departed, they may never see each other again. Still, he knew that God’s claim on Xavier was higher than his own. Sadly, after Xavier departed, he never returned, dying on an island near China and being buried in India.

I’m sure that Loyola had regrets. I’m sure that he missed his friend. Still, he allowed Xavier to follow his calling, to live and grow as he thought best. In the same way, I need to accept the call God has placed on my friend and allow her to follow it confidently.

Life is full of these separations. Both of my kids are in college now; it’s only a matter of time before they establish their own independent lives. Some of my colleagues on campus are essentially permanent Rolla residents, but many others have departed over the past decade or have shown that they are likely to leave in the near future. (In fact, this is the time of year when I expect to hear about resignations and retirements.) Each person that leaves takes a little part of me with them, I hope, and leaves a little part of themselves behind with me. I pray that I can accept what I cannot change, living in the confidence that one day, we will all be gathered together in God’s eternal kingdom.

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Dreaming of God’s Kingdom

Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on John 15:26-16:15, Acts 2:1-21.

When I was in grad school, I took a course one semester titled, “A Differential Geometric Approach to Nonlinear Control.” The course started with a discussion of manifolds, diffeomorphisms, Lie brackets and Lie derivatives, and so forth. For about six weeks, I sat in the class and listened as if it were a foreign language. One day, it suddenly all made sense. Unfortunately, that experience didn’t stick with me, and when I’ve looked in that textbook, I can only read about a page before my eyes roll back in my head.

Many people have that same experience if they study theology. Probably even most people here today. If we were in a Sunday School class and I told you that I use a hermeneutic of love, you would probably miss the word “love” and get hung up on “hermeneutic.” Calvin taught us about predestination, but theologians have been untangling that concept ever since. Salvation, justification, sanctification—what do we mean? What does it mean to “be saved”? Saved from what? Justification—isn’t that something to do with typing and margins?

Then there are some more common words you might hear around a congregation—like the word “congregation,” instead of “crowd” or “audience.” Only church people use “fellowship” as a verb. We use the word “mission” to mean something different than in the corporate world, and for that matter, many congregations use it to mean something more like “charity.” Before I was asked to serve on it, I had never heard of a “session” as being a committee.

I am in the business of using precise language. I know how important it is to distinguish between, say, energy and power. But I also know that jargon and insider language have a way of erecting barriers. Language becomes a way to signal that “we,” whoever that “we” might be, are distinct from “they,” or from “you.” It’s a way to send a subtle signal of tribal membership. Like, we’re church people and if you can’t understand us, then you don’t belong here.

But how do these words and concepts bring us closer to God? More importantly, how do they speak to the world at large? If you read or watch the news, you will see endless stories of the troubles in our community, state, nation, and world. Poverty, homelessness, and crime. A raging pandemic that has resulted in millions of hospitalizations and deaths, and has led to loneliness and isolation for millions more. Political conflict that even creates barriers between friends and within families. Oppression based on race, ethnicity, religion, gender, gender identity, and sexual orientation. Uneven wealth, both within our nation and among the nations of the world, where 9% of the world’s population survives on less than $2 per day. If you are homeless, what does salvation mean? If you have been marginalized because of who you are, rather than what you have done, what does justification mean?

Ancient Judea was also such a world. The once-mighty nation of Israel was an occupied province of the Roman empire. The Jews were oppressed because of their religion. There was continuous political unrest, with divisions between the zealots and those who worked to appease the Roman occupiers. The Holy Spirit was poured out upon this turmoil to erase these divisions. The disciples were empowered to preach “God’s deeds of power,” a message the gathered crowd was ready to hear. They spoke of God’s ability to change the world and to heal their nation. To unite everyone and welcome everyone into God’s family.

On the day of Pentecost, the disciples were all together. This was the birth of the Christian church, a single body of Christ. Ever since then, we have been finding reasons to split up. The most recent divisions have emerged over issues of social justice, women’s roles, sexual orientation, and gender identity. Some people respond by saying, “Teach tolerance.” That is grossly insufficient. Tolerance is to say that a person is wrong, but you will overlook their wrongness. Can you imagine saying to a close family member—a spouse, parent, or child—that you “tolerate” them? I hope I never reach that point. The next level up is “acceptance.” Acceptance is an acknowledgement of difference with just a hint of judgment. Kind of like saying, “I love you anyway.” There is still division and distinction. How about “welcome”? It has become somewhat common for churches to say, “All are welcome.” First of all, saying it doesn’t make it true. Secondly, what does that mean? “Welcome” to what? Welcome to sit in the sanctuary? I’m glad churches are saying that their ushers aren’t acting as bouncers. Welcome—but looked at as guests and outsiders? And who is “all”? For centuries, “all” has had an asterisk: all people who fit a certain demographic, who look and act a certain way. In modern churches, the usual distinctions are related to sexual orientation and gender identity, as well as age and class.

The Holy Spirit led the disciples to be not only welcoming, but also inclusive. The gathered crowd was divided by language, so the Holy Spirit enabled the disciples to speak to each person in the language they could understand. Peter quotes the prophet Joel’s apocalyptic vision of inclusion. The spirit would be poured out upon everyone, regardless of age, gender, or social class. In the same way, the Holy Spirit calls us to spread the Gospel to everyone and include them—truly include them—in Christ’s body, which is the church.

What does it mean to be inclusive? I found a good definition on a site called “Humor That Works.”

An organization is inclusive when everyone has a sense of belonging; feels respected, valued and seen for who they are as individuals; and feels a level of supportive energy and commitment from leaders, colleagues, and others so that all people–individually and collectively–can do their best work.

Humor That Works

Although describing a business or non-profit, this definition works pretty well for a church, too. An inclusive church values each person for who they are as an individual. People are not pigeonholed according to their demographic category, but are valued for the particular ways they have been blessed by God and the particular ways they are blessings to others. This is not to imply that their gender, ethnicity, age, or sexual orientation is meaningless. It is to acknowledge that those characteristics have influenced the experiences that person has had, but do not define their gifts or the ways they can be a part of Christ’s body.

Every church struggles with inclusion in some way. The evangelical movement is still struggling with the roles that women may take. Beth Moore has, for decades, led large-scale Bible studies, speaking at stadium-style events. As a Southern Baptist, though, she could never be called a preacher. Over the past few years, she has been pushing back against the culture within her denomination that treats women with disrespect. Finally in March, she broke ties with both her publisher, Lifeway, and the Southern Baptist Convention. She could no longer participate in a denomination and organization that seemed to value misogyny, nationalism, and partisan politics over the Gospel.

It’s easy for us, though, to say we’re not like that. We have a female pastor, right? Not only that, but our denomination officially allows for the ordination of gay pastors, elders, and deacons and for blessing gay marriages. Problem solved, right? Well, no. Remember, there is a spectrum from tolerance to acceptance to welcome to inclusion. Rules in the Book of Order are ultimately only the beginning. Those rules indicate tolerance or perhaps acceptance. There are plenty of PC(USA) churches out there that would struggle with calling a female pastor, and even more that wouldn’t call a gay pastor, no matter what their other gifts. I think our congregation does better than most, but there’s plenty of work to be done. There are plenty of people in our community who need to feel the love of God, who need a connection to Christ’s body, who need to hear the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand, and is available to them right here, right now.

Let me return to that day of Pentecost. In the passage, the gathered crowd lists all the places they came from. The list includes modern-day Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Libya, Italy, and Turkey. Considering that most people traveled by foot, that’s a pretty broad swath of land. I think that answers in part the question, “Why was Jesus born 2000 years ago?” I mean, I understand why Jesus was born, but why then? Well, between the Pax Romana, the expanding shipping industry, and the vast network of Roman roads, moving around the Near East was easier than ever. It had become possible, for example, for Parthians to move from modern-day Iran to Jerusalem. By the same token, it had become possible for the first apostles to travel throughout Syria, Turkey, Greece, and North Africa.

We live in an even more connected world today. Thanks to the Internet, people can access the Gospel all around the world. I recently heard an American speaker talking about her 80-year-old Catholic mother listening to homilies from parishes around the nation and even from far-away places like India. Every week, I post both a podcast of the sermon and a video of the worship service. While we were shut down, the videos regularly received 40 or more views. Since re-opening, the number has dropped to the teens. Still, that’s a dozen people who would not otherwise be able to worship God.

Of course, that raises an obvious question: Are the people who watch the videos online truly worshipping God with us? What “counts”? I was talking recently with a dear friend of mine who lives in Ohio. She had a falling out with her local church a few years ago. Since then, her family has been essentially unchurched. But an amazing thing happened. Her brother and sister attend a church in Baltimore that started livestreaming worship last summer. She started “attending” worship because of that connection. She has since joined in a monthly faith formation group that her sister leads. Now, she wouldn’t have been connected with that particular church without the family connection, but still, the pandemic enabled a church in Baltimore to reach someone in Ohio. I assert that she is no longer unchurched, that she is just as much a part of that worshipping community as if she lived in Baltimore.

What defines a church? What defines OUR church? The Great Ends of the Church in our Book of Order are:

  1. The proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind.
  2. The shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God.
  3. The maintenance of divine worship.
  4. The preservation of the truth.
  5. The promotion of social righteousness.
  6. The exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world.

The closest this list comes to requiring us to gather in a sanctuary on a Sunday morning is “the maintenance of divine worship.” However, I have been in truly wonderful worship services in the chapel, in the fellowship hall, in a city park, and in the woods. This in-person gathering is helpful for “the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God,” but there are other ways for us to connect to one another. This gathering is certainly not essential to the promotion of social righteousness or the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world. Yes, we are, right here, right now, living in the Kingdom of Heaven, but I also experience God’s kingdom when I work at The Mission, or when I talk with a student about something in their personal life. I experienced it when I hosted a parents’ panel for LGBTQ+ Rolla, even though there was at least one atheist among us. I experience it when my family is gathered together. I experience it when I go elk hunting each year.

There are many ways to be Christ’s body, to pursue the six Great Ends of the Church. So long as we are proclaiming the gospel, preserving the truth, and promoting social righteousness, we are exhibiting God’s kingdom.

On that first Pentecost, Peter remembered the words of Joel: “your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” Today as we once again celebrate that ancient outpouring of the Holy Spirit, let us all dream dreams. Together let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, whether they are with us physically or online or in our hearts. Let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, whether or not they look or dress or think or act like us. Let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, knowing the good news of unity and reconciliation that we know by the power of the Holy Spirit. Come, Holy Spirit! Amen.

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Witnesses of Grace

A sermon preached at First Presbyterian Church of Cuba. Based on Luke 24:44-53 and Acts 1:1-11.

This year, I’m using a book called The Year of the Bible, by James Davison. He was previously a Presbyterian pastor and just retired from being a professor at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. The Year of the Bible is structured so that every day, you read a couple chapters from the Old Testament plus either a New Testament chapter or a Psalm. If you stay on top of things, you end up reading the whole Bible in a year. I slacked off in February and March, so I will have to re-do parts of it, though.

Most people who try to read the whole Bible get bogged down somewhere around Leviticus or Numbers. There is no doubt that it’s a slog. Leviticus is a bunch of rules, most of which make no sense. Numbers is full of Israelites grumbling and testing God’s patience. Again and again, God threatens to abandon them, Moses intercedes, and God relents. There are consequences, but in the end, God upholds their covenant and promises to make Israel a mighty nation in the Promised Land.

The story in Numbers is a microcosm of the whole Hebrew Bible. From the very beginning, God is present with first individuals and then tribes and nations, the fickle humans turn their back on God, and God says, “OK, I’ll forgive you THIS time, but don’t do it again.” When Judah pushes God too far, they are exiled to Babylon, but even then, God eventually relents, the exile ends, and the Temple is re-built.

In the passages preceding what we read today, the disciples are in turmoil. They think God has abandoned them yet again. Let’s review the story arc. Jesus makes his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, but then he is arrested and crucified. The disciples’ hopes for a restoration of Israel are dashed. They thought Jesus was the Messiah who would expel the Romans, cleanse the nation, and rule an earthly kingdom devoted to worshipping God. Now they know that cannot happen, for their leader is dead. The whole movement has come to an end, with everyone fleeing in fear for their lives. A few days later, they discover the tomb to be empty—they are even deprived of a grave where they can reverence their murdered leader. In the midst of their grief, Jesus appears to open their minds to understand the scriptures. First he walks with a couple disciples on the road to Emmaus, then he appears to all of the disciples gathered together. Now they understand: God’s kingdom is not an earthly regime, but instead God rules over each person’s heart. Jesus is indeed the Messiah. He has not abandoned them, but instead, will be present with them. Well, sorta: as soon as Jesus gets done teaching them, he leaves them again, but with a promise to send help. Next week, we will hear about what comes next: the Holy Spirit will descend upon the disciples. God will always be present with them, and with us. Once again, humanity has broken the covenant by killing God’s anointed one, the Messiah, Jesus Christ, but once again, God forgives.

But why? Why does this all happen? The key is in the middle of Jesus’s teachings to his disciples. “Repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.” The Messiah had to be killed and raised so that the disciples could witness God’s ultimate forgiveness and share it with the world.

The Greek word that we translate “forgiveness” is “aphesin.” It has other connotations like freedom, deliverance, and remission. It comes from a root that is something like “sending away.” In the Presbyterian version of the Lord’s Prayer, we refer to sins as debts. They are debts to God. That’s a useful metaphor because debt is so common to us. We incur debt to buy a car or a house. Most of us carry credit cards so that we can incur debt on a moment’s notice, even for something as trivial as lunch. Meanwhile, the US government currently has an outstanding debt of $28 trillion. We are swimming in debt, just as we are swimming in sin.

Many people take out loans for college. The premise is that your college education should improve your future employability and earning potential, so you are essentially borrowing as your future self. But sometimes, things don’t work out that way. For example, when we had kids, my wife was no longer able to work, so we didn’t have her income to help pay her student loans. This is a common enough situation that there is a process in place to address it. Requesting a deferral is pretty easy. The loan continues to accrue interest, but payments are not required—yet. Still, the debt remains. This is not forgiveness, but forbearance.

For decades, real estate became increasingly valuable, so borrowing money to buy a house seemed like a fine idea. Then in 2008, suddenly the real estate market crashed and home values dropped. Suddenly, people were “upside-down” on their mortgages, meaning that they owed more debt than the house was worth. In this case, forbearance doesn’t really help. If your debt is too high, you can never pay it off.

In the bad old days, debtors’ prisons were common. Basically, if your debts exceeded your ability to pay, the government would imprison you. How the heck could someone ever get out of a debtors’ prison? In some cases, the debtor’s family would pay the debt. In other cases, the debtor became an indentured servant until they worked off their debt.

But Jesus says that we are to proclaim forgiveness, not forbearance. The word used means a total sending away of the debt. We don’t have to work it off. The debt doesn’t remain hanging over us. We are totally relieved of our debt to God. That’s great, because the debt of our sins is like an upside-down mortgage. God has been so good to us, but like the grumbling Israelites, we reject God’s goodness. We can never earn our way back into God’s heart. We must rely on forgiveness through God’s grace.

In a sense, God’s forgiveness is like a presidential pardon. In the waning days of a presidency, the outgoing president usually issues a bunch of pardons. The Constitution gives a president almost unlimited authority to forgive federal crimes. Presidential pardons are often controversial, but there is really nothing people can do except grumble. Early this year, there was some discussion about whether President Trump would issue “pre-emptive pardons,” that is, pardons for unspecified violations. This turned out to be the only real limit. A presidential pardon must be specific. It must address a particular crime.

In a similar way, Jesus teaches his disciples to preach “repentance and forgiveness.” Our sins create a barrier between us and God. They block our ability to receive God’s love. They burden us with guilt and leave us feeling unworthy. Repentance is an honest acknowledgement of our sins, an accounting of our debt. Think about the person in an upside-down mortgage. If they simply ignore the debt, they will live in perpetual fear that the bank will take their home away. But if they make an honest accounting of the debt and the bank forgives it, they can live in freedom.

Jesus taught his disciples that repentance leads to forgiveness leads to freedom. When we are freed of our debt to God, we are free to be in a deeper relationship with God. I am reminded of a scene in A Bronx Tale. The main character loaned money to someone who didn’t want to pay him back. Instead, the guy kept dodging him. If you have an outstanding debt to a friend, it hangs over the relationship and prevents you from enjoying each other’s presence. In the same way, if sin hangs over our relationship with God, we cannot enjoy God’s full presence in our lives. If instead we turn towards God and accept God’s forgiveness, we unlock the joy that God offers us.

The disciples heard this good news and responded with joy, worship, and fellowship. Verse 52, “And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.” Their heartache at the loss of their friend and teacher was replaced by the joy of God’s grace. They had encountered Jesus together. The encounter broke down not only the barriers between each of them and God, but also between one disciple and another.

In the same way, we each have experienced God’s grace. I have not personally had a vision of Jesus or an outpouring of the Holy Spirit like some people have, but I have had experiences of God acting in my life, times when I had an awareness that God is good, God is real, and God is still working to reconcile the world. Even if you haven’t had a direct encounter with God, you are a recipient of God’s grace and can encounter Jesus through the Bible. My God-encounters have been few and far between, but I encounter God vicariously each time I read the Bible. I read this story and imagine being a disciple, seeing Jesus’s hands, his flesh that was pierced at his crucifixion, raised in blessing. I read about Abraham or David and imagine a life of faithful devotion to the Lord’s guidance. I read Paul’s letters and imagine myself in one of those early house churches, squabbling with my fellow “baby Christians” and receiving Paul’s teaching that reveals God’s will. We are the recipients not only of God’s continuing presence, but also of thousands of years of stories about God’s work in the world.

Jesus opened his disciples’ minds to the entire Hebrew scripture—Torah, prophets, and psalms—so they could see that God’s work was all of one piece. In Genesis, we read of our expulsion from Eden and subsequent decline into depravity. Then Noah comes along and is a righteous man that God makes a personal covenant with. Then Abraham comes along, and God makes a permanent covenant to bless all humanity. From then on, we read of cycles of progressive redemption. The Israelites sin, God forgives them, and the bounds of the covenant expand.

God is eternally seeking reconciliation with all people and indeed all creation through Jesus Christ. The story of salvation reached a climax with Jesus’s death and resurrection. In Jesus’s ascension, his transcendent grace exploded upon the world and was suddenly open to everyone.

Let’s share that message with the world. There are plenty of preachers telling the world that they are sinners, that they have a debt to God, that, in Calvin’s words, they are “totally depraved.” They preach a debtors’ prison model: you owe a debt to God, and you cannot come to God until you work it off. Jesus taught us that yes, we are sinners, BUT, our debt has been forgiven. The slate has been wiped clean. We are free to enter the kingdom of God, not because of anything we have done, but despite anything we may have done.

This is good news, the very best news. Through grace, we are forgiven. Jesus has removed all barriers between humanity and God. We encounter God’s grace, abounding love, and forgiveness each time we read the Bible or gather together in our Lord’s name. We have been touched by the Holy Spirit, who has reconciled us to God and restored us to full membership in God’s kingdom. And if we are reconciled to God, we are free to be reconciled to one another. Just as God has removed the crushing burden of our sins, we are commanded to show others how their burdens may be lifted, to share the peace that comes from a right relationship with God. Then we may enter into fuller, deeper relationships with each other, forgiving as we have been forgiven, loving as we are loved, and sharing the deep joy of being a part of God’s family. Let us follow the disciples’ lead and go forth in joy, proclaiming forgiveness by the grace of God. Amen.

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Life Lessons from the Rolla Mission

My clothes dryer has an adaptive cycle in which it extends the drying time until the clothes are actually dry, I guess based on humidity. It may tell you that there are 15 minutes remaining, then run for another 45 minutes. My kids were discussing this the other night, and said as aggravating as it is, at least then the clothes come out dry. In the dryers in their dorms, when the money runs out, the dryer stops. If the clothes aren’t dry, you either need to suffer wet clothes or pay for a whole additional cycle; you can’t just add a few minutes. My kids suggested that I start charging them $3.50 to do their laundry to make it feel like they’re still at college.

That sort of thing is what motivated the Rolla Mission to get started. There are only a few laundromats in Rolla, and they are expensive. The Vineyard had space, so they installed some washers and dryers and offered free laundry to whoever needed it.

Fast forward several years. Ashley Brooks gave a talk at a volunteer roundtable this week where she talked us through “a day in the life” of one of their patrons. Some people come by the Mission because they are poor, but many because they are poor and homeless. They are all working towards a better life, whether through some self-improvement project (e.g., counseling) or by saving money towards a place to live. Over time, the Mission’s services have expanded far beyond laundry, and all because of love.

What’s the point in having clean clothes and a dirty body? So they offered free showers. (I may have the sequencing a little wrong here, but the story arc is basically right.) People would come in hungry, so the Mission gave them snacks, and then meals. But every night, the building would close. One winter, the leadership couldn’t bear the thought of the patrons they loved sleeping out in the cold, so they started offering overnight shelter.

But ultimately, the Mission is not in a position to offer everything that a homeless person might need, including a place to live. Many homeless individuals have health issues (physical or mental), addictions, and so forth. They need a job so they can earn money so they can afford to pay rent. They may not have the documents they need, like a Social Security card.

But Ashley and the others involved with running the Mission have seen these needs and responded in love. They connect people with the services they need from dozens of other agencies in town. They help people navigate the complex bureaucracy that has been set up to prevent fraud and abuse but has the side effect of preventing adequate services to those in need.

Of course, the Mission can’t help everyone. They help people in our community and expect other communities to take care of their own people’s needs. Some people have needs beyond the Mission’s expertise or would put others at risk; I was volunteering one day when a state trooper brought in someone who was on drugs, and staff directed them to the hospital instead. Some people do not respond lovingly to the love they are given and have been banned for the good of other patrons.

But at the foundation of it all is love. The Vineyard didn’t set out to build a homeless shelter with a wide range of services; they just saw a need, filled it, and loved whoever showed up. That’s why I volunteer at the Mission: to learn how to love in actions and not simply in words.

16 We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. 17 How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? 18 Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.

1 John 3:16-18
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A Time of Endings, A Time of Beginnings

As I’ve previously mentioned, I have been working towards a certificate that would enable me to become a commissioned ruling elder (CRE). I finished my last class this semester and was awarded a Certificate in Congregational Leadership from the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary. The big question is, what comes next? I am not unique in wondering about the future. This is a season of commencements, which celebrate the end of an academic program but are titled to remind us that the end of one chapter of life is really the beginning of the next.

Some academic programs are pretty specific. My nephew, Lance Workman, just received his MD. His next step is a family medicine residency at Mizzou. After that, the obvious career is to be a physician in a family practice. Other programs are less career-centric. For example, Southern New Hampshire University has a degree program in “general studies.” I have no idea what specific career a student would pursue after receiving that degree. I would say that divinity programs, particularly an M.Div. but also the certificate that I received, fall somewhere in-between. The natural next step is to take a call as a pastor of a congregation. But there are other paths.

My last course was Preaching, in which I learned a process that leads from a Bible passage to a sermon. More than that, Fr. Goodrich taught us a maxim:

Know the story. Live the story. Craft the story. Tell the story.

Father Kevin Goodrich

This is truly the calling of all Christians. Some people are designated preachers, but we are all supposed to share the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand. We are all supposed to encounter Jesus, and be witnesses of His work in the world.

18 And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Matthew 28:18-20

I’m not sure what my future holds. Maybe I will pour my energy into my home congregation, First Presbyterian Church of Rolla, and its existing ministries. Maybe I will start a new ministry within or alongside my home congregation. I’ve been told that if I want to do pulpit supply, there is tremendous need throughout Missouri; many churches have been closed during the pandemic, but are now re-opening. Some of those churches that rely on pulpit supply would be well-served by an installed pastor, for which I am technically qualified. Maybe I will continue to work on building up LGBTQ+ Rolla. Maybe I will blog more regularly.

My short-term plan is to fill pulpits when opportunities come along, and to use the sermon preparation process that I learned as a spiritual practice. My goal of this practice is to shift from gathering spiritual information, to pursuing spiritual formation. Rather than pouring more knowledge into my brain, I will seek to transform myself more and more into the person God wants me to be. I know that this is possible with God’s help. I pray that you—all of you who read this—will similarly be transformed into the person God wants you to be, and that we will each walk the path God lays out before us.

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Peace, Justice, and Reconciliation

I would not call today’s verdict justice, however, because justice implies true restoration, but it is accountability, which is the first step towards justice. And now the cause of justice is in your hands, and when I say, “your hands,” I mean the hands of the people of the United States.

Keith Ellison, Minnesota attorney general, speaking after the verdict in Derek Chauvin’s trial

“No justice, no peace.” This cry rings out at protests over the deaths of Black men, women, and even children at the hands of police officers. Stated this way, “justice” becomes shorthand for punishment or retribution against perpetrators of violence. Back in 1967, Martin Luther King, Jr., said more eloquently and completely, “There can be no justice without peace. And there can be no peace without justice.” King realized that justice and peace are inextricable.

But what is justice? Leviticus 24:19-20 encapsulates the ancient view: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. Ellison’s statement recognizes that there cannot be justice without restoration and reconciliation. True justice heals our wounds.

Several years ago, I heard a talk by F. W. de Klerk, the transitional leader of South Africa at the end of apartheid. He made the case that a community or nation that has experienced strife needs both truth and reconciliation. The American justice system is reasonably good at revealing truth, although there are racial and economic divides. Similarly, our justice system does a reasonable job at retribution and, occasionally, rehabilitation, again with racial and economic divides. Yet we, as a nation, have not really embraced reconciliation as a goal. For the person who has been wronged, restoration and the end of their suffering is a necessary precondition. People who are in pain can only cry out for retribution, to share their pain. Consider the ancient Israelites who had been exiled by Babylon:

8 O daughter Babylon, you devastator!
    Happy shall they be who pay you back
    what you have done to us!
9 Happy shall they be who take your little ones
    and dash them against the rock!

Psalm 137:8-9

Not a verse that is preached very often! But it is a true statement of grief and anger. The people were hurting. Their land and their nationhood had been taken away. Their holy temple had been destroyed. In a similar way, Black communities across the nation still feel grief and anger over the centuries of oppression they have endured. Until they are restored to equality, how can they enter into full community with the rest of American society?

What would justice be like for Cubans in Florida? Some Cubans are recent immigrants, refugees escaping the poverty and oppression of their Communist government. Others fled Cuba during the revolution in 1953. These were wealthy Cubans whose property was stolen by the Communists, and who, like the Israelites, lost their land and their nationhood. Although individuals who experienced this catastrophe are a small fraction of modern-day Cuban-Americans, the memory runs deep in that community and continues to impact US-Cuba relations. At this point, restoring their property is meaningless. Cuba has changed; Cuban-Americans are much better off than the typical Cuban. Yet that loss is still real and painful.

Achieving true justice requires peace and reconciliation. But achieving reconciliation requires first an acknowledgment of wrongdoing and a willingness to restore what has been lost. If there is to be peace in America’s Black communities, there must first be repentance by the White power structures that perpetuate injustice, that have created wealth and educational attainment disparities, that treat Blacks as a problem to be eliminated instead of people who deserve equality.


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Reconciliation, Colonialism, and Our Corporate Sin

Our lives are largely transactional. Obviously in the marketplace: I receive goods and services in exchange for money. In a more interpersonal way, all communities function in part as a gift economy, in which goods or services are given with the expectation that the receiver will give back someday. For example, one of my primary job functions is to write grant proposals, often in collaboration with other professors. If I am willing to help Prof. X with their proposal today, then perhaps Prof. X will help with mine next month or next year. Over time, we develop relationships that have grace and mutual understanding, but transactions undergird the relationships.

The church historically has translated worldly transactional relationships into the spiritual realm. For example, in some traditions, one must tithe (give one-tenth of one’s income) in order to be considered a full participant in the religious community. The Roman Catholic practice of confession, penance, and absolution is a fairly clear transaction: you tell the priest what you did, he tells you what you need to do, and then you are restored to full relationship with God. The evangelical understanding is surprisingly similar, except that it only happens once: you pray the sinner’s prayer, and you are restored to full relationship with God.

Recently I watched a surprisingly detailed video by Phil Vischer (of Veggie Tales fame) called, What is an “Evangelical”? If you haven’t watched it, I highly recommend it as a way to understand modern conservative Christianity. Vischer notes that most modern Christians are evangelical in the 18th century sense, which is why the most liberal Lutheran denomination in America is the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). The evangelical movement, dating to the Great Awakening, grew out of an interpretation of John 3:3:

3 Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

John 3:3

Being a Christian required a personal decision to follow Jesus, not simply being born into a Christian family. Logically, this led to the modern concept of the sinner’s prayer.

The Great Awakening, though, followed two centuries after the Reformation. John Calvin was the father of Reformed theology. This is a particular branch that emerged during the Reformation that, in the US, is primarily represented by Presbyterian denominations (including PC(USA), of which I am a member), Dutch Reformed denominations such as RCA, and German Reformed denominations including the United Church of Christ. In one of Calvin’s foundational writings (his Institutes of the Christian Religion), he taught that each worship service should begin with a corporate prayer of confession. That is, Calvin taught that the minister should pray on behalf of the whole assembly, asking forgiveness of the sins of the whole body, after which he should assure the congregation of God’s pardon through Jesus Christ.

In essence, Calvin’s argument was that we are not only personally sinful, but sinful as a group—as a community, as a nation, as a species. (I can’t quite get on board with his doctrine of total depravity, though.) It is important to make a conscious, hopefully-one-time decision to follow Jesus. It is important to regularly confess your own personal sin, and ask God’s forgiveness, confident in receiving forgiveness and reconciliation. But that is not sufficient.

23 So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister[a] has something against you, 24 leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister,[b] and then come and offer your gift. 25 Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court[c] with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison.

Matthew 5:23-25

God’s Law is about building God’s kingdom, both now and in the age to come. When I break that Law, I not only sin against God, but also sin against God’s children. So I need to ask forgiveness not only from God, but also from the person who has been wronged.

Calvin understood, though, that we are connected in a community, and what one person does affects all of us. So I need to seek forgiveness not only for my own sins, but also for the sinfulness of my community, my nation, my species.

For example, I have not personally killed anyone. However, I am part of a nation that deploys military around the world in ways that result in the deaths of the innocent. Whether or not the military actions are justified, we all should seek God’s forgiveness for our part in those deaths. But just as much, we need to seek forgiveness from the nations that we have ravaged, from the families who have lost loved ones, and so forth.

In the same way, I have not personally excommunicated anyone who is gay, nor have I defrocked a pastor who officiated a gay wedding. I have not supported ex-gay ministries or otherwise actively diminished the contributions of the LGBTQ community. I am a member of a welcoming congregation in a denomination that ordains gay pastors. And yet, I am the inheritor of a legacy of discrimination. As an individual, I seek forgiveness for the small part I have played in supporting all of these discriminatory actions. As a congregation, denomination, and religion, we all need to seek forgiveness from God and from those who have been hurt, directly and indirectly, by our actions over several decades.

As the sinner, I do not have the right to say, “Let’s just move on.” I—we—must ask the LGBTQ community to forgive the evil that has been done in Christ’s name, so that they can tell us they are willing to reconcile.

In the same way, I am the inheritor of the legacy of colonialism. I have not personally forced any Native Americans off their land, nor have I personally enslaved any Africans. That doesn’t change the fact that I benefit as a citizen of the nation that was built through these and other evil acts. Again, I, and we all, must ask these aggrieved communities for their forgiveness and allow them to take the lead in reconciliation.

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The Rules of Christianity

“Christianity is just a bunch of rules.” This is a common refrain from people who have left the church or never joined. Perhaps they grew up in a church that had a legalistic mindset. Perhaps their parents used God as a threat to get them to behave. Perhaps they have never been to a church but are turned off by what they see in the media. Or, worst of all, perhaps they were cast out from a church because of their sexual orientation or gender identity. Fortunately, that has not been my experience, and I hope to be one small voice working to change people’s minds about what Christianity can be.

When I was young, I don’t recall having strict rules with consequences. Well, maybe a handful of times. For the most part, my parents simply set expectations, and periodically reminded us of them. I remember riding in the car with my parents in the front and siblings in the back seat with me. Things were starting to get a little wild, with us picking on each other. My mom reached back and snapped her fingers. There was no threat—ever, that I recall—just a reminder that we were expected to behave properly. If we did, then the car trip would go well. If not, it wouldn’t.

I’ve been reading through the Bible, trying to read the whole thing in a year. (March was a little rough, so I’ll have to circle back to some chapters.) The Pentateuch, and especially Numbers, is a lot like one of those car trips. The Israelites got hungry, so God had to give them food. They got thirsty, so God had to give them water. The Israelites started grumbling, so God had to remind them all of God’s sovereignty. For forty years, the Israelites kept misbehaving. Occasionally there were severe consequences. Mostly, though, God kept reminding them that if they would behave, good things would happen; if they would not behave, bad things would happen.

But through it all, God loved them. God and Moses both got angry and frustrated, sometimes with one another and often with the Israelites. But always, they reconciled.

Easter is a time when we remember the great reconciliation. For hundreds of years, the Israelites kept failing to live up to God’s expectations. God kept sending prophets to remind them, which would sometimes work for a little while, but never for long. They kept thinking that they needed to “do church” correctly: to follow all of the rules, to make the proper sacrifices, to separate themselves from the Gentiles, and so forth. They thought in doing so, they would earn God’s favor, in a transactional arrangement.

6 “With what shall I come before the Lord,
    and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
    with calves a year old?
7 Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
    with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
    the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?”
8 He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
    and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
    and to walk humbly with your God?

Micah 6:6-8

God did not desire Israel’s sacrifices, any more than my parents wanted me to buy them gifts. God simply wanted Israel to live up to their potential, to meet God’s expectations.

God’s love is unconditional. We use the word “Father” to remind us that God is like the most perfect parent. Does a perfect parent throw their child out when they break some rule? No. A perfect parent is more like the father of the Prodigal Son: as soon as he saw his son approaching, the father ran out to meet him, to embrace him, to welcome him back. God doesn’t require a payment of any sort, but expects us to behave like the beautiful children we are. God expects us to love one another, to serve one another, to correct injustices, to comfort the afflicted, to free the prisoner. God desires not sacrifice, but love.

Christianity is not a book of rules. It is a loving relationship with the source of all existence. We cannot earn God’s love, no matter how hard we try, and we cannot earn God’s hate, no matter how hard we try. Let us strive to meet God’s expectations of us:

31 When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. 32 If God has been glorified in him,[a] God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. 33 Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ 34 I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

John 13:31-35
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Crucifixion and Glory – Podcast and Transcript

See also the post with the video. Based on John 12:20-33.

Every year when I go elk hunting, I disconnect from all email and voicemail for about a week. Last fall when I checked my messages, I discovered that I had missed a message from Mark, an engineer at Ameren’s Technology Applications Center in Champaign who was working with me on my electric vehicle charging project. His message said that he was leaving Ameren that Friday, with some vague reference to church; of course, I didn’t get the message until the weekend, which was too late to get in touch with him for more details.

Later, I had the opportunity to talk with his former supervisor, Rod, and asked what Mark was up to. Mark had decided to commit himself to a project in Africa. He is visiting a tribe with a language that does not exist in written form. What he is doing is recording people telling Bible stories in their language, which he can then distribute to other groups who speak the same language. In this way, even though written Bibles are not available, the African tribespeople can still hear the Gospel.

Rod and I talked about Mark’s commitment. We are both committed to our respective churches; I shared a bit about the Commissioned Ruling Elder program that I’m working through. But we both agreed that it would hard for us to do what Mark is doing. Kids in college, family to care for, and good jobs that are hard to walk away from. We both admire Mark, but are not yet ready to take that leap.

In today’s passage, we hear about a group of believers who, like the Africans that Mark is evangelizing, needed to hear the Gospel in their own language. At that time, there were Greeks who were referred to as “God-fearers.” I suppose a reasonable analogy in modern Christianity would be unbaptized worshippers. God-fearing Greeks could go to the Temple in the Court of the Gentiles and offer sacrifices, but they could not participate as fully as circumcised Jews. While Greeks were the dominant group in much of the Roman Empire, they were outsiders in Judea. They had come to worship God during the Passover festival. Apparently when they arrived, they heard about Jesus. This passage comes just after his triumphal entry on what we celebrate as Palm Sunday. Maybe they had also heard about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Jesus was the big news in town, so they sought to encounter Jesus.

So they did what most people do: they found someone who spoke their language and knew their customs who could make the introduction. Philip had a Greek name and was one of Jesus’s closest disciples, so he was the perfect choice. When he and his hometown friend Andrew approached Jesus, Jesus realized that the time had come. He was not only drawing Jews to himself, but Greeks as well, and would soon draw all things to himself and reconcile the world.

Yet Jesus knew that life would not be easy, not for himself and not for his followers. He knew his own death was approaching and faced it with courage. But he also needed to warn his followers that if they chose his path, they would need to cast aside all of their other attachments. They—and we—would need to even hate their lives, that is, all the comforts of ordinary life.

Throughout history, and even today in some parts of the world, suffering for the Gospel includes paying the ultimate price of martyrdom. Early Christians were martyred; many schisms in church history have included martyrs. I read a story recently about Assyrian Christians, an ethnic minority in northern Iraq, Syria, Turkey, and Iran. These are the same Assyrians we know from the Bible. They converted to Christianity in the first few centuries A.D. In the centuries since, they have been persecuted, even subjected to a genocide around World War I. Most recently, their population was decimated by ISIS. They remain a dwindling minority in the Middle East, with a small number living elsewhere around the world.

Meanwhile, in Myanmar, we hear mostly about the ruling Buddhists persecuting Rohingya Muslims, but the army has also imprisoned over 100,000 Christians in concentration camps. I met a pastor from Myanmar who was studying at Eden Seminary. He said that there were times when the army surrounded his church to prevent him from preaching something subversive, and he had to pivot to a sermon that supported the military dictatorship. He has since completed his studies and returned home, where he continues to lead his church despite the threats.

But we are not Assyrians, nor do we live in Myanmar. We live in a democracy where religious freedom is guaranteed. The so-called threats against our faith include such terrible things as not being allowed to lead communal prayer in public schools, or being forced to sell wedding cakes to gay couples.

Yet it is still true that Christians suffer in more subtle ways, or else compromise their faith. Many of us are fearful about sharing our faith in any public way, for fear of reprisal from our superiors at work or loss of friends. I know I need to be particularly careful on campus because of my position of authority. There can never be an implication that students are expected to profess what I believe in order to succeed in my class. I work with people of all different faiths—every sort of Christian, plus Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, atheists, and more—and our different beliefs can’t prevent us from working together.

For generations, we have been taught that it is impolite to discuss religion or politics. I understand that, to a certain point. The problem is that we have failed to learn how to politely discuss these sensitive issues. These are the things that really matter, that really touch who we are, and we never talk about them. Even among my friends at church, these last few years have been pretty hard on political conversations.

As a result, we end up discussing surface-level topics. We talk about the weather; we talk about sports. These days, we talk about COVID. I have a lot of conversations about my beard and about hunting. Such small talk smooths out our interpersonal interactions, but we never reach true understanding of each other. Just as the interstate highway system is a way to cross the country without seeing any of it, small talk is a way to talk at length with someone without knowing who they really are.

For the last few years, I have been active with the Campus Ministries Association. CMA includes Common Call, which is this church’s ministry, plus CCF, the Newman Center, Baptist Student Union, the First Methodist ministry called Ignite, and a few others. CMA’s flagship event is an Interfaith Dialogue every spring. Last year, of course it got canceled, and this year we have to pivot the format a bit, but here’s how it goes in a normal year. We try to get people to attend from a wide range of faith traditions: Christians of many types, from within our ministries and also from across campus, plus Muslims, Hindus, and whoever else we can think of. We mix them up at tables of six with a facilitator at each table. Then each group goes through questions like, “Have you ever been asked to do or say something that went against your faith or belief system? How did you respond?” Or, “How do you understand evil in persons and in our world? What do you think is the best way to deal with evil?” There are about twenty different questions, and none of them have a right answer. Most of them don’t even have an “approved” doctrinal answer. They are more about the practical realities of our spirituality. How does our religion or our spirituality impact our daily life? We are all trying to figure things out and live our faith as best we can.

The two keys to a successful interfaith dialogue are a willingness to share and a willingness to listen. The goal is to understand each other, not to win a debate. I have found that I have more in common with a Muslim than I ever imagined. We may all leave believing the same things as when we arrive, but we also leave with a memory of an experience of the Kingdom of God.

Because really, what is the kingdom of God? It is people living together in deep relationships. It is abundant life, not a life of abundance. It is seeing Jesus in each other. It is being guided by the Holy Spirit. It is setting aside our fears and anxieties and showing our true selves.

That is what Jesus is calling us to do. He asks us to set our lives aside—our false selves—and pursue Him and His Kingdom. That is not an easy road, but it leads us to a place of joy and peace.

Some people are called to literally set their lives aside, as Mark did to travel to Africa. Others find ways to live for Christ where they already are. Rev. Dr. Maria Evans is a pathologist in Kirksville who felt called to the priesthood a few years ago, and so is serving as the interim priest at Christ Episcopal here in Rolla. She continues in her practice as a pathologist while at the same time serving God through pastoral ministry. Rev. Steve Lawler, on the other hand, is a semi-retired Episcopal priest with an MBA who is the director of the Walker Leadership Institute at Eden Seminary. His goal is to help people who have had successful careers, who are perhaps at or near retirement, find ways to use their career skills to serve God through missional leadership, meaning leadership of organizations that are serving some specific mission towards establishing God’s kingdom. James Brown is a sportscaster, best known for being the host of the NFL Today on CBS, who is also ordained in a nondenominational church. He doesn’t preach much on TV, but he does radiate God’s love, and he’s not afraid to bring his faith into the discussion when it’s appropriate.

Maybe you’re not ready to become a preacher, ordained or otherwise. We are all differently gifted. Some are led to preach or teach, others to healing and compassion, others to a wide range of service to God’s Kingdom. But we all share one calling: to be witnesses of God’s grace at work in the world. We are all called to encounter God, to see God in all things, and to share with others how great is God’s love—for each one of us, and for everyone else, too. God’s love is greater than anything else any of us ever have or ever will experience. As followers of Christ, we should treasure that love above all else. It is a great gift, one that gets bigger the more we give it away.

Sharing God’s love means sharing our deepest joy, but sometimes means touching another person’s deepest pain. That pain can lead the person to lash out at us, as a proxy for the angry or spiteful or judgmental God they think they know. But if we’re willing to suffer through that pain, we have the promise of glory on the other side: the glory of entering God’s kingdom here and now, as God’s beloved children become our siblings in Christ.

Truly, that is the promise of the Gospel. Following Jesus isn’t easy. It is frequently a path to poverty, or to persecution, or to ostracism. But it is also a path to deeper, truer relationships. We go beyond the surface to those issues that touch our hearts. We connect to people we would otherwise never know. Let us each seek to set God’s priorities above our own, to open our true selves to our neighbors, and in so doing to experience the joy of God’s beloved community. Amen.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

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Crucifixion and Glory – Worship Video

Bulletin-2021-03-21Download

I haven’t blogged much recently. Among other things, I have been busy with the course on preaching that I’m taking this semester. If you would like to provide anonymous feedback on the sermon, please visit: https://forms.gle/eEUkkFJmwzGCAGq98

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