When I was doing my undergrad work, I had a fellow student in one of my religion classes who was a purported Biblical literalist (purported because, in my opinion, no one truly reads the Bible literally, we pick and choose what texts we want to use literally and which we don't - but that's a topic for another day). He struggled through much of the semester because the instructor was not a literalist. Additionally, he struggled with the fact that she was female and an ordained minister (see 1 Timothy 2:11-15 for his dilemma). I began a discussion with him, that was extracurricular to class, regarding the role of women and the probable interpretive influences on some of the language, as we looked specifically at Romans 16:1 where Phoebe is declared to be a 'diakonon' (in Greek) in the church. The KJV (and the NIV still) translates this as servant or slave, where in other places when used for males it is translated "minister." Now the word is, at times, translated servant or servants, but when used as an adjective for a man, it is translated minister. So why, when used as an adjective for a woman, is it translated "servant"? My point for him, was that this was an interpretive choice. Someone chose how to interpret this word "diakonon" which has multiple interpretations into English, including, yes, servant, but also deacon, minister, and administrator. Why is Phoebe a servant, while Paul and Apollos in 1 Corinthians are ministers when described with the same word? It is an interpretive overlay based on the bias of the interpreters.
In his recent blog, my e-friend Christian Piatt, writes about the blow back being created by the new bible translation called "The Voice" because the interpreters have chosen not to use the word, 'Christ' but instead to translate the Greek word as "the Anointed One" - a perfectly acceptable interpretation of the Greek text. This is an interpretive choice made by the person or persons who are creating the translation; the word in Greek, Christos, can be interpreted as Christ or Messiah, or as Anointed One.
Several years ago, the newest translation receiving attention was "The Message." It was from Eugene Peterson, a minister for many years, as well as a linguist and a seminary instructor. I am a big fan of Peterson's books, of which there are many, and I am constantly impressed by the depth of his faith, the strength of the Spirit's Presence in his life and writing, and by his ability to tease out the meaning and context of so much of the original biblical texts. One of the criticisms from some, as I recall, was his use of the phrase, "Jacob-wrestling God." It is a phrase the speaks to me and it is a reference to Genesis 32 where Jacob wrestles with a "man" who turns out to be the angel of the Lord. Jacob actually wrestles a blessing from the Lord and because he does he receives a new name: "Israel - one who strives with God." So while the term is not one that we see in most mainstream translations there is something to the idea that the God of Israel is Jacob-wrestling God. Additionally it speaks to me in the metaphorical sense that we, too, at times wrestle with God. It is an interpretive overlay that is a choice made by the translator(s).
I remind people in Bible studies and in sermons on a regular basis that we are reading translations and therefore interpretations. The translators made choices and often the choices grew from their own biases. This is not a bad thing, but is simply the way it is. Marcus Borg suggests in the book he co-authored with N.T. Wright, "The Meaning of Jesus," that all of us have a lens that we look through. We cannot remove the lens, we simply need to recognize it is there. Piatt suggests in his blog that the King James Bible translators "had a specific human agenda" and that is true. It does not make the translation invalid, but we need to recognize that it exists. I agree with Piatt's conclusion that even if we read it in the original texts (assuming the Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic are the original texts - many scholars suggest that Matthew, Mark, and Luke used a common source that they dub "Q" - indicating the possibility that there are texts we do not have), we would still be interpreters, by virtue of the fact that we speak English (mostly) and have been raised in a culture that is completely foreign to what their cultures were like.
I again quote Piatt's conclusive thoughts, that for "some, these agendas folks brought (and bring)...are problematic and should be eliminated.... For me, the agendas are, in many ways as important as the word's on the page." I agree. We need, like Jacob, to wrestle with the Divine presence. We need to reject the notion that every answer has already been revealed and laid out in perfect order. The value of the journey lies in the journey and not in the arrival at the destination. Like Jacob, I believe that we receive the blessing when we have to wrestle with God - when we have to wrestle with the text and not just accept a literal reading of an interpreted text.
When we wrestle with the text, we also wrestle with our own agendas that we bring to the text as well. Like Borg, I believe that all of us have a lens we look through and it is important to understand what that lens is - not to simply deny its existence. When we read other translations and interpretations, it can give us opportunity not just to wrestle with God, but to wrestle with our preconceived notions of the text, of God, and of what we understand ourselves to be as followers of the Way. It is my belief that God is big enough to endure our questions, to withstand our challenges, and to wrestle with us as we strive to find our place in the world and in the body of Christ and to understand our relationships to one another and to the Divine.
Like Israel, we should welcome a Jacob -wrestling God and wrestle as well.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Killing Lazarus
Grief is a powerful emotion. If you have ever lost someone close to you, you have some understanding of grief and its power. It is comforting to me, at the times when I feel grief, to know that even Jesus grieved. We are told that when Jesus arrived at Bethany to find that his friend Lazarus had died, he wept. Presumably he wept with grief at the loss of his friend. Most of us know the rest of this story. Jesus resurrects his friend from the dead.
In the twelfth chapter of John we find Jesus back in Bethany as he shares a meal with his friends, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. The other gospels do not name the woman, and we are left to understand that it may in fact be someone different, but in John's gospel it is Mary, the sister of Lazarus who anoints the feet of Jesus with expensive oil. John tells us that Judas objects, but Jesus says that she is preparing him for burial. Many of us are familiar with this story, and there has been much discussion about the oil, the poor, the role of Judas, and so on. I want to consider one other aspect of this story for a moment.
John goes on to tell us that when the people learned that Jesus was there a large crowd gathered "not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus whom he had raised from the dead. So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as well" (John 12:9b-10, NRSV). By killing Lazarus they hoped to erase all record of the miracle that Jesus had performed - to eliminate the evidence. By removing the result, in other words, they hoped to remove the problem.
And how often do we do the same? In our culture, or work, our government and so many other ways, don't we assume that if we can eliminate the symptoms we have cured the problem? By killing Lazarus, effectively eliminating the symptom, the priests thought they could cure the problem. And the result? We don't know that they actually carried out the killing of Lazarus, but I suspect that if they had, the end result would have been the same as it was from killing Jesus, instead of killing the problem, it exacerbated it.
What problems face us daily? What problems face our world? Oppression, racism, poverty, hunger, ignorance, war - we cannot cure these problems by eliminating the evidence of them. We must address the issues that create the problem. Killing Lazarus would not address the problems they were having with Jesus (killing Jesus would not solve the problem either). Too often we, as well, think that by silencing the critics, killing the prophetic voices, and removing those who protest that we can eliminate the problem. If we hide the poor away, kill our enemies, and lock up our social conscience, we can cure the problem. These are not the problem, though. Like Lazarus they serve only to remind us of the realities with which we are faced.
Jesus tells Judas (in John's gospel) that we will always have the poor with us. This is not an excuse to ignore the problem, but like Lazarus was for the chief priests, it is a reminder that we have real problems to address. We cannot cure the issues that face us as a country or a world, by covering over the evidence of problems such as global warning or health care and pretending that we have solved them. When we refuse to fund programs that help people in favor of programs that expand our ability to fight war, we are, in effect, killing Lazarus.
On that Saturday following the crucifixion, I suspect the chief priests probably felt like they had solved their problem by killing Jesus. Were they still plotting to kill Lazarus? And what then, come Easter? As we approach Easter Sunday, the stories of the resurrection of Lazarus and Jesus remind us not just of hope, but of life. Life has problems and living together creates problems. Instead of killing Lazarus and killing Jesus to try to fix our problems, let us recognize at Easter and beyond that we are empowered by the Holy Spirit as the people of the Kingdom of God to find ways together to address our problems. Ignoring, hiding, or burying our issues will not make them go away and temporary fixes will only bring them back later. Killing Lazarus may be the easy way - but it is not the solution. Instead, as God's people in Jesus Christ, let us find ways to work together and to work with others to effect permanent solutions in faith, in hope, and in love. Happy Easter!!
In the twelfth chapter of John we find Jesus back in Bethany as he shares a meal with his friends, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. The other gospels do not name the woman, and we are left to understand that it may in fact be someone different, but in John's gospel it is Mary, the sister of Lazarus who anoints the feet of Jesus with expensive oil. John tells us that Judas objects, but Jesus says that she is preparing him for burial. Many of us are familiar with this story, and there has been much discussion about the oil, the poor, the role of Judas, and so on. I want to consider one other aspect of this story for a moment.
John goes on to tell us that when the people learned that Jesus was there a large crowd gathered "not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus whom he had raised from the dead. So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as well" (John 12:9b-10, NRSV). By killing Lazarus they hoped to erase all record of the miracle that Jesus had performed - to eliminate the evidence. By removing the result, in other words, they hoped to remove the problem.
And how often do we do the same? In our culture, or work, our government and so many other ways, don't we assume that if we can eliminate the symptoms we have cured the problem? By killing Lazarus, effectively eliminating the symptom, the priests thought they could cure the problem. And the result? We don't know that they actually carried out the killing of Lazarus, but I suspect that if they had, the end result would have been the same as it was from killing Jesus, instead of killing the problem, it exacerbated it.
What problems face us daily? What problems face our world? Oppression, racism, poverty, hunger, ignorance, war - we cannot cure these problems by eliminating the evidence of them. We must address the issues that create the problem. Killing Lazarus would not address the problems they were having with Jesus (killing Jesus would not solve the problem either). Too often we, as well, think that by silencing the critics, killing the prophetic voices, and removing those who protest that we can eliminate the problem. If we hide the poor away, kill our enemies, and lock up our social conscience, we can cure the problem. These are not the problem, though. Like Lazarus they serve only to remind us of the realities with which we are faced.
Jesus tells Judas (in John's gospel) that we will always have the poor with us. This is not an excuse to ignore the problem, but like Lazarus was for the chief priests, it is a reminder that we have real problems to address. We cannot cure the issues that face us as a country or a world, by covering over the evidence of problems such as global warning or health care and pretending that we have solved them. When we refuse to fund programs that help people in favor of programs that expand our ability to fight war, we are, in effect, killing Lazarus.
On that Saturday following the crucifixion, I suspect the chief priests probably felt like they had solved their problem by killing Jesus. Were they still plotting to kill Lazarus? And what then, come Easter? As we approach Easter Sunday, the stories of the resurrection of Lazarus and Jesus remind us not just of hope, but of life. Life has problems and living together creates problems. Instead of killing Lazarus and killing Jesus to try to fix our problems, let us recognize at Easter and beyond that we are empowered by the Holy Spirit as the people of the Kingdom of God to find ways together to address our problems. Ignoring, hiding, or burying our issues will not make them go away and temporary fixes will only bring them back later. Killing Lazarus may be the easy way - but it is not the solution. Instead, as God's people in Jesus Christ, let us find ways to work together and to work with others to effect permanent solutions in faith, in hope, and in love. Happy Easter!!
Friday, April 6, 2012
A Moment
After all it's but a moment,
a movement,
a quick and furtive motion.
After all it's just an instant,
a brief word spoken and then silence -
a fleeting touch,
a stolen glimpse, here then gone.
Just a candle blown by the wind with only
smoke to remind us of the burning
flame that was, but is gone.
The beat of butterfly wings,
broken and bleeding in the sun -
a moment -
gone, passed and done.
©Al Gritten, 2012
a movement,
a quick and furtive motion.
After all it's just an instant,
a brief word spoken and then silence -
a fleeting touch,
a stolen glimpse, here then gone.
Just a candle blown by the wind with only
smoke to remind us of the burning
flame that was, but is gone.
The beat of butterfly wings,
broken and bleeding in the sun -
a moment -
gone, passed and done.
©Al Gritten, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
The Beat of Hope
The death of Davy Jones of the Monkees had a much greater impact on me than Whitney Houston's death, or some of the other losses to the music industry in the last year or two. Perhaps, as I told one friend on Facebook, that is because my age is showing. Certainly that 60's pop sound is what I grew up with, and it has helped shape who I am. The Monkees, the Beatles, the Stones, the Animals, and many others. They sang love songs, yes, but they also sang of social ills and addressed issues that needed to be changed. It could be very dark music, but it also could be light-hearted and even when offering a social critique, it could be upbeat.
Since Jones' death, I have found myself revisiting much of this music that speaks nostalgically of my youth and my formative years. I have dusted off old CD's, LP's (vinyl records for those who do not know the term) and found myself hitting old presets on my radio to visit stations I haven't been to in a while (yes, they call them 'oldies' stations).
And while we were very aware of racism, the Red Scare, nuclear threats, Viet Nam, drugs, and other issues, there is still something to this music that is uplifting. I believe it is hopeful. It speaks of the fact that we can overcome our problems, we can learn to love one another, we can build a better world. It encourages us to dream of what is possible, even when it seems to be patently impossible. It was the rhythm of change and it was set to the beat of hope. It challenged us to dream about possibilities and called on us to envision a better world and a new tomorrow that we could create if we could only all get together. It didn't deny the problems, but in naming the issues, it often suggested that there was hope. I admit that I don't listen to a lot of contemporary music and perhaps it does this as well. But as I look at the landscape of contemporary culture and modern politics, I am not so certain that the message of hope is still present. In fact one political person asked the President in a speech some time ago about how the hopey changey thing was working out.
I was disturbed by that remark. It almost suggested that hope is somehow not part of the process. Unfortunately, in the modern political process that might be true. I listen to the political hopefuls and the incumbents suggest all the things that are wrong and then add all the things that the other party is not doing to fix them. We get a laundry list of the problems and the ills, we get a recounting of the broken promises and broken issues, but I am not hearing positive solutions - I am not hearing hope.
There is a growing presence on the internet that promotes fear - fear of the President, of his politics, his ideology, and of his faith beliefs, and fear of the liberals who align themselves with him. There is fear of the conservatives, of their ideologies, policies and faith beliefs. But where is the hope?
As Christians we are called to be a people of hope. Does that mean we bury our heads in the sand and ignore what's wrong? No, but it does mean we are called to work for hope in a world lost in hopelessness, to work for peace in a world filled with war and violence, and to work for wholeness in a world that is broken by racism, poverty, ignorance, and oppression. We cannot do this by spreading fear and hopelessness. We must recognize that these things are the antithesis of God (reference 1 John 4:18ff). We are called to be agents of love and hope in the name of Jesus Christ.
I continue to be drawn to the music of my youth, not because it avoided the difficult challenges and problems (and today's music may confront them as well), but because even as it identified the issues, it sought to be hopeful. I would welcome a political process that avoided fear and hopelessness and offered ways to embrace positive and hopeful change. I would welcome a political process that stopped drawing lines and picking sides and sought compromises that would promote social change and economic growth and unity. I would welcome a politician who stood up and said, "I don't agree with _________'s agenda, but I see promises of hope in it" instead of one who denigrated the very idea that we can hope, or who opted for repressive social policies that solve economic problems but belittle people.
And I would welcome my brothers and sisters in Christ who would put aside their party loyalties and ideologies long enough to quit spreading fear and embrace our calling to be a people of "faith, hope, and love." No, we don't need to ignore our problems, racism, economic struggles, pollution, greed, violence, and war, and on and on, but we need to work together, as followers of the Way of Jesus, to build compromise, love, and above all, hope. I believe it was Tony Campolo who said, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming!" As we approach Easter it is time for those of the Way to reclaim it's promise to build hope. Sunday's coming - let's march toward it to the beat of hope.
Since Jones' death, I have found myself revisiting much of this music that speaks nostalgically of my youth and my formative years. I have dusted off old CD's, LP's (vinyl records for those who do not know the term) and found myself hitting old presets on my radio to visit stations I haven't been to in a while (yes, they call them 'oldies' stations).
And while we were very aware of racism, the Red Scare, nuclear threats, Viet Nam, drugs, and other issues, there is still something to this music that is uplifting. I believe it is hopeful. It speaks of the fact that we can overcome our problems, we can learn to love one another, we can build a better world. It encourages us to dream of what is possible, even when it seems to be patently impossible. It was the rhythm of change and it was set to the beat of hope. It challenged us to dream about possibilities and called on us to envision a better world and a new tomorrow that we could create if we could only all get together. It didn't deny the problems, but in naming the issues, it often suggested that there was hope. I admit that I don't listen to a lot of contemporary music and perhaps it does this as well. But as I look at the landscape of contemporary culture and modern politics, I am not so certain that the message of hope is still present. In fact one political person asked the President in a speech some time ago about how the hopey changey thing was working out.
I was disturbed by that remark. It almost suggested that hope is somehow not part of the process. Unfortunately, in the modern political process that might be true. I listen to the political hopefuls and the incumbents suggest all the things that are wrong and then add all the things that the other party is not doing to fix them. We get a laundry list of the problems and the ills, we get a recounting of the broken promises and broken issues, but I am not hearing positive solutions - I am not hearing hope.
There is a growing presence on the internet that promotes fear - fear of the President, of his politics, his ideology, and of his faith beliefs, and fear of the liberals who align themselves with him. There is fear of the conservatives, of their ideologies, policies and faith beliefs. But where is the hope?
As Christians we are called to be a people of hope. Does that mean we bury our heads in the sand and ignore what's wrong? No, but it does mean we are called to work for hope in a world lost in hopelessness, to work for peace in a world filled with war and violence, and to work for wholeness in a world that is broken by racism, poverty, ignorance, and oppression. We cannot do this by spreading fear and hopelessness. We must recognize that these things are the antithesis of God (reference 1 John 4:18ff). We are called to be agents of love and hope in the name of Jesus Christ.
I continue to be drawn to the music of my youth, not because it avoided the difficult challenges and problems (and today's music may confront them as well), but because even as it identified the issues, it sought to be hopeful. I would welcome a political process that avoided fear and hopelessness and offered ways to embrace positive and hopeful change. I would welcome a political process that stopped drawing lines and picking sides and sought compromises that would promote social change and economic growth and unity. I would welcome a politician who stood up and said, "I don't agree with _________'s agenda, but I see promises of hope in it" instead of one who denigrated the very idea that we can hope, or who opted for repressive social policies that solve economic problems but belittle people.
And I would welcome my brothers and sisters in Christ who would put aside their party loyalties and ideologies long enough to quit spreading fear and embrace our calling to be a people of "faith, hope, and love." No, we don't need to ignore our problems, racism, economic struggles, pollution, greed, violence, and war, and on and on, but we need to work together, as followers of the Way of Jesus, to build compromise, love, and above all, hope. I believe it was Tony Campolo who said, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming!" As we approach Easter it is time for those of the Way to reclaim it's promise to build hope. Sunday's coming - let's march toward it to the beat of hope.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Super Tuesday and Ash Wednesday
As I listen to media reports and political analysts hype the importance of Super Tuesday amid growing commentary around issues of faith, I am alarmed not only by some of the comments made by candidates, but also by comments made by their constituents and supporters. As a historian and a history instructor, I believe the founding fathers were determined that in this country the state should not be the church and vice-versa. So I am wary when a candidate begins to suggest that there should be no separation between church and state. I think that at best there should be an uneasy alliance of church and state with a constant tension between the two. The notion that any government not headed by Jesus himself can be a government that represents Jesus or his Kingdom (the church) is a misguided notion at best.
Walter Brueggeman writes that the resurrection of Jesus "is the ultimate act of prophetic energizing in which a new history is initiated. It is a new history open to all but peculiarly received by the marginal victims of the old older" (The Prophetic Imagination).
I am forced to reflect: what if the repetitive nature of history isn't so much our failure to learn from it as Santayana suggests, but our unwillingness to embrace a new history initiated in Jesus? What if the repetitive nature of history is really an ongoing struggle between the politics of power and the way of love, between a world driven by force and might and that of the cross that calls us to honor the other? In other words, the history initiated by in Jesus is the history of a new nation that has no boundaries and is a globally spanning, barrier destroying Kingdom of God. It is this clash of the kingdoms of the world who rule by power and the Kingdom of God founded in sacrificial love that is the historic narrative of good vs. evil.
If we embrace this thought and ponder it to its ultimate conclusion we should find ourselves rethinking the idea that we can institute some kind of faith narrative or religious subtext via politics. Inevitably the politicians that claim we can legislate Christian faith in some way are substituting the kingdom of the world for the very Kingdom of God that they are claiming to represent. There is only one way to embrace the Kingdom of our Lord - by a voluntary confession of faith and a baptism into a changed life that lives the Jesus truth, in the Jesus way, following the Jesus life (Eugene Peterson).
Beware those who suggest that the power of Caesar or the politics of Constantine are the path to instituting the Kingdom of God in Jesus Christ. In reality they are both the same path and neither of them leads to the cross or the Christ it represents. They are the wrong path. The Kingdom of God in this world can only be instituted through Jesus acting in each of us to transform us both individually and collectively.
Should we have no concern then for the faith values or morality of those we elect? On the contrary, especially for President, our leaders should reflect the values we want as a nation, but when we insist that a particular viewpoint or theology or faith tradition is necessary or that the government can become the church, we are on dangerous ground, both from the standpoint of civil liberty as well as freedom of religious expression.
In her recent blog post, Rachel Held Evans, writing regarding the outrage and support of Rush Limbaugh, writes "No longer defined by its original ethos—spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ—evangelicalism has been reduced to little more than a voting block, and I get the idea from many of my evangelical friends that so long as a person shares their political convictions, it matters not how they live their life or speak about other people; a person is on the Christian “team” as long as he votes for conservative candidates come election day."
The Kingdom of God that has come in Jesus Christ is a border-less kingdom that welcomes all people. It can never be a voting block, or a political party. There is no government that can represent Jesus, or by extension the church which is his body, that He himself does not head. So if you are voting on Super Tuesday, remember your convictions and your politics. Reflect on who you think the best candidate is, but I encourage us to remember that there must always be tension between church and state. The journey that begins on Ash Wednesday does not lead us to Super Tuesday but to a cross and an empty tomb - the Kingdom of God in Jesus.
Walter Brueggeman writes that the resurrection of Jesus "is the ultimate act of prophetic energizing in which a new history is initiated. It is a new history open to all but peculiarly received by the marginal victims of the old older" (The Prophetic Imagination).
I am forced to reflect: what if the repetitive nature of history isn't so much our failure to learn from it as Santayana suggests, but our unwillingness to embrace a new history initiated in Jesus? What if the repetitive nature of history is really an ongoing struggle between the politics of power and the way of love, between a world driven by force and might and that of the cross that calls us to honor the other? In other words, the history initiated by in Jesus is the history of a new nation that has no boundaries and is a globally spanning, barrier destroying Kingdom of God. It is this clash of the kingdoms of the world who rule by power and the Kingdom of God founded in sacrificial love that is the historic narrative of good vs. evil.
If we embrace this thought and ponder it to its ultimate conclusion we should find ourselves rethinking the idea that we can institute some kind of faith narrative or religious subtext via politics. Inevitably the politicians that claim we can legislate Christian faith in some way are substituting the kingdom of the world for the very Kingdom of God that they are claiming to represent. There is only one way to embrace the Kingdom of our Lord - by a voluntary confession of faith and a baptism into a changed life that lives the Jesus truth, in the Jesus way, following the Jesus life (Eugene Peterson).
Beware those who suggest that the power of Caesar or the politics of Constantine are the path to instituting the Kingdom of God in Jesus Christ. In reality they are both the same path and neither of them leads to the cross or the Christ it represents. They are the wrong path. The Kingdom of God in this world can only be instituted through Jesus acting in each of us to transform us both individually and collectively.
Should we have no concern then for the faith values or morality of those we elect? On the contrary, especially for President, our leaders should reflect the values we want as a nation, but when we insist that a particular viewpoint or theology or faith tradition is necessary or that the government can become the church, we are on dangerous ground, both from the standpoint of civil liberty as well as freedom of religious expression.
In her recent blog post, Rachel Held Evans, writing regarding the outrage and support of Rush Limbaugh, writes "No longer defined by its original ethos—spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ—evangelicalism has been reduced to little more than a voting block, and I get the idea from many of my evangelical friends that so long as a person shares their political convictions, it matters not how they live their life or speak about other people; a person is on the Christian “team” as long as he votes for conservative candidates come election day."
The Kingdom of God that has come in Jesus Christ is a border-less kingdom that welcomes all people. It can never be a voting block, or a political party. There is no government that can represent Jesus, or by extension the church which is his body, that He himself does not head. So if you are voting on Super Tuesday, remember your convictions and your politics. Reflect on who you think the best candidate is, but I encourage us to remember that there must always be tension between church and state. The journey that begins on Ash Wednesday does not lead us to Super Tuesday but to a cross and an empty tomb - the Kingdom of God in Jesus.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Corn Nuts
When I was eleven or twelve I went on my first Boy Scout camping trip. The Patrol Leader for my patrol was a young man named Marty Dyer. Marty was about three or four years older than me and I looked up to him - not only because he was older, but because Marty, in my eyes, embodied the ideals of scouting. Part of what makes that first trip so memorable was we ended up being tent mates for that outing.
We were in our sleeping bags after 'lights out' and so, of course, we had our flashlights working overtime, talking and laughing and having fun like boys do in that situation. At one point he reached into his pack and pulled out some snacks. "Have you ever tried these?" he asked. I confessed that I never had and he ripped the bag open and we began to partake. Food of the gods! I thought. They were "Corn Nuts" and I was hooked. For the past forty plus years, I have indulged in "Corn Nuts." I am unabashedly and unashamedly a fan of this wonderful food. Yes, I realize it's probably not good for me - deep fried and loaded with salt, they are nevertheless my idea of a what a snack food should be. And I will continue my true confessions by saying that I still indulge my "Corn Nuts" habit. Especially on a long drive, at that point when you just begin to fight drowsiness - white line fever sets in, and I combat it with - you guessed it - "Corn Nuts." The crunchy texture of this deep fried delicacy is just right for popping sleepy eyes open.
Now the makers of "Corn Nuts" have attempted to expand their market by offering different flavors. They now offer, I believe, ranch flavored and salsa flavored. There may be others though I don't know, because I am a "Corn Nuts" purist - I am hooked on the original. This wonderful snack food that was introduced to me more than forty years ago by a someone I admired and felt a kinship with - he opened my eyes to something that has stayed with me ever since.
Faith should be something like this I think. Faith, fellowship, church should by when someone you love, admire, care for, or have a kinship with introduces you to the wonderful love and grace of God that comes to us in Jesus. That first taste, and that exquisite experience of an encounter with God in Christ should open our senses to a whole new world of flavor and texture and colors. Faith is not about doctrine or dogma or even theology - these things are a reflection of our faith but they are not what's in the bag. They are like different flavors of the same snack - all of them are good and have value. But ultimately what's in the bag is Jesus, in whatever flavor we envision him. Our faith, our lives, and our churches should be the bag that once opened and shared invites others into a wonderful new experience that will not only change their lives, but stay with them for years.
Do we have a "Corn Nuts" faith? Do we have a passion for it, so that, we offer it to others with enthusiasm, inviting them to share? I am not refering to denominations, doctrines, or theology, but simply our faith - "Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God and my savior and Lord." Are we excited about the fellowship or community we are part of, so that, we cannot wait for others to experience it? Will we reach into the backpack of our lives and pull out our bag of faith, ripping it open for others?
The interesting thing about something as simple as "Corn Nuts" was that it in all the simplicity of the moment, it has stayed with me for my entire life. I don't know where Marty is today, but the "Corn Nuts" habit is still mine. Who introduced you to Jesus? More importantly who do you know that needs what our belief in Christ offers? Maybe it's time to ask them, "Have you ever tried this?" One warning though, it will almost certainly be habit forming.
We were in our sleeping bags after 'lights out' and so, of course, we had our flashlights working overtime, talking and laughing and having fun like boys do in that situation. At one point he reached into his pack and pulled out some snacks. "Have you ever tried these?" he asked. I confessed that I never had and he ripped the bag open and we began to partake. Food of the gods! I thought. They were "Corn Nuts" and I was hooked. For the past forty plus years, I have indulged in "Corn Nuts." I am unabashedly and unashamedly a fan of this wonderful food. Yes, I realize it's probably not good for me - deep fried and loaded with salt, they are nevertheless my idea of a what a snack food should be. And I will continue my true confessions by saying that I still indulge my "Corn Nuts" habit. Especially on a long drive, at that point when you just begin to fight drowsiness - white line fever sets in, and I combat it with - you guessed it - "Corn Nuts." The crunchy texture of this deep fried delicacy is just right for popping sleepy eyes open.
Now the makers of "Corn Nuts" have attempted to expand their market by offering different flavors. They now offer, I believe, ranch flavored and salsa flavored. There may be others though I don't know, because I am a "Corn Nuts" purist - I am hooked on the original. This wonderful snack food that was introduced to me more than forty years ago by a someone I admired and felt a kinship with - he opened my eyes to something that has stayed with me ever since.
Faith should be something like this I think. Faith, fellowship, church should by when someone you love, admire, care for, or have a kinship with introduces you to the wonderful love and grace of God that comes to us in Jesus. That first taste, and that exquisite experience of an encounter with God in Christ should open our senses to a whole new world of flavor and texture and colors. Faith is not about doctrine or dogma or even theology - these things are a reflection of our faith but they are not what's in the bag. They are like different flavors of the same snack - all of them are good and have value. But ultimately what's in the bag is Jesus, in whatever flavor we envision him. Our faith, our lives, and our churches should be the bag that once opened and shared invites others into a wonderful new experience that will not only change their lives, but stay with them for years.
Do we have a "Corn Nuts" faith? Do we have a passion for it, so that, we offer it to others with enthusiasm, inviting them to share? I am not refering to denominations, doctrines, or theology, but simply our faith - "Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God and my savior and Lord." Are we excited about the fellowship or community we are part of, so that, we cannot wait for others to experience it? Will we reach into the backpack of our lives and pull out our bag of faith, ripping it open for others?
The interesting thing about something as simple as "Corn Nuts" was that it in all the simplicity of the moment, it has stayed with me for my entire life. I don't know where Marty is today, but the "Corn Nuts" habit is still mine. Who introduced you to Jesus? More importantly who do you know that needs what our belief in Christ offers? Maybe it's time to ask them, "Have you ever tried this?" One warning though, it will almost certainly be habit forming.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
A Valentine's Heart
I see a certain connection between Christmas and Valentine's Day. In one we celebrate the love of God for us, and in the other we celebrate our love for each other.
But love takes different shapes and forms. We love our spouses and significant others in a different way than we love our children, parents, siblings, etc. So while Valentine's Day is a time when we celebrate love for one another we often focus on love as it is manifested romantically or in shared affection in family. But Jesus calls us to a different love for each other. It is a love that takes form in a different word (in Greek) and in a different way.
The love Christ calls us to is sacrificial. It is a love that is given even when there is little or no chance for a return. Agape (the Greek word) is often referred to with definitions such as unconditional, but I prefer this definition: agape does what is best for another, whether or not there is any emotional bond or any hope for a return.
The love that we, as humans, tend to share most easily is based in emotion and is most often reciprocal. I love someone who loves me back. It is instinctive. I would qualify that, though, by saying that this kind of love must include the sacrificial elements of agape if it is going to be successful. But to love those who don't love us, or even more, to love those who hate, betray or are our enemies? This is not as easy. Jesus moves us to a higher calling - love your enemy, pray for those who persecute, and for those who demand something from you, do that and then do more. "For if you only love those who love you what reward do you have? Even tax collectors and sinners do the same" (Mt. 5:46, Lk 6:32).
In the past weeks we, as a church, have had many of our family in the hospitals or struggling with other issues and I have seen amazing acts of love from many of those in our church family. Today we will celebrate the love we share in our own families. As we continue to share love for each other in our families and in our church families, I encourage us to remember that there are hurting folks in our world who need the kind of love that only those who follow the Way of Jesus can give. I encourage us to continue to strive to reach out in love to bring people to faith and to give them hope. It is love that has called us in Jesus, love that binds us as family, and love that is the greatest thing we offer to the world. Love is the Way of Christ, and it must be the way of those who follow. Happy Valentine's Day!!
But love takes different shapes and forms. We love our spouses and significant others in a different way than we love our children, parents, siblings, etc. So while Valentine's Day is a time when we celebrate love for one another we often focus on love as it is manifested romantically or in shared affection in family. But Jesus calls us to a different love for each other. It is a love that takes form in a different word (in Greek) and in a different way.
The love Christ calls us to is sacrificial. It is a love that is given even when there is little or no chance for a return. Agape (the Greek word) is often referred to with definitions such as unconditional, but I prefer this definition: agape does what is best for another, whether or not there is any emotional bond or any hope for a return.
The love that we, as humans, tend to share most easily is based in emotion and is most often reciprocal. I love someone who loves me back. It is instinctive. I would qualify that, though, by saying that this kind of love must include the sacrificial elements of agape if it is going to be successful. But to love those who don't love us, or even more, to love those who hate, betray or are our enemies? This is not as easy. Jesus moves us to a higher calling - love your enemy, pray for those who persecute, and for those who demand something from you, do that and then do more. "For if you only love those who love you what reward do you have? Even tax collectors and sinners do the same" (Mt. 5:46, Lk 6:32).
In the past weeks we, as a church, have had many of our family in the hospitals or struggling with other issues and I have seen amazing acts of love from many of those in our church family. Today we will celebrate the love we share in our own families. As we continue to share love for each other in our families and in our church families, I encourage us to remember that there are hurting folks in our world who need the kind of love that only those who follow the Way of Jesus can give. I encourage us to continue to strive to reach out in love to bring people to faith and to give them hope. It is love that has called us in Jesus, love that binds us as family, and love that is the greatest thing we offer to the world. Love is the Way of Christ, and it must be the way of those who follow. Happy Valentine's Day!!
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