I have always been a little concerned about those that suggest that the bible is flawless and without error. It smells too much like, the apparently urban legend that a deck hand said of the Titanic, "Not even God could sink this ship." For the Bible to be completely inerrant, it would require too much from imperfect people. And I think anything that we humans construct has the potential to sink, even holy books.
First, people would have to hear perfectly what God told them -- and I know from many experiences that people don't do that well. Once after coaching a JV soccer game, the opposing coach came over to me and said, "I sense a rivalry here." I replied, "No. Next year we will be varsity and you will kill us." Somehow, the other coach heard, "Next year we will beat varsity and kill you." I discovered this when we played the varsity team next year and all their players were taunting us about "You're going to kill us? Welcome to varsity, after which they trounced us 11 - 0. All because of our imperfections in communication. And with God, it is even more difficult for us to get our message right.
Second, for the bible to be inerrant people would have to refrain from adding their personal comments to what God told them, you know embellishing it a bit to make it more exciting. Another soccer story. After each game, I would send the scores, stats, and a written quote to the newspapers for them to print if they wanted to. I put the quote in quotes with my name in order to make it clear it was an exact quote. Yet on one occasion the sport's editor didn't think my quote was exciting enough and totally rewrote my statement using hyper-competitive language not befitting of a pastor. I wasn't very happy. With the Bible, it seems equally (if not more) likely that humans would want to add their spin -- us being self-centered and all.
Third, the transmission of the texts would have to be perfect. It is true, that the texts have been passed down with remarkable accuracy, there are places where ancient texts have slight variations. They usually make no difference to interpretation, and yet the differences are there.
Some people try to get around these issues by saying that the texts were perfect in their original form and in their original language. That may sound like an acceptable statement at first, but in reality it is problematic. If God could get the bible perfectly into the hands of the original authors, wouldn't God have also ensured that the text remained pure and error-less during its transmission? Why would people long ago have a more accurate ability to get God's word exact than people now-a-days? It sounds good at first, because we don't know those people from long ago, and it is easy to trust people whose motives and personalities are invisible to us; while with current scholars, it is easy to distrust them because they must have an agenda they are pushing.
Now, don't get me wrong. I think the bible is a wonderful book, written by people about their experiences of God. I believe that it has the sanction of the Christian community and is intended to help us understand the faith and draw closer to God. I believe it is the spirit-filled, authoritative, and sacred book of Christianity. But I don't believe it is perfect. We should be willing to say, "Yes, the bible is right about this, but not about that. It is right that God is behind all of creation, but it isn't right about it taking 7 days. Yes, the bible is right in teaching that children ought to honor their mother and father; yet it is wrong about sparing the rod spoiling the child."
So here is what started this little rant. As I was working on my sermon this week, I was studying marriage in the bible and that favorite feminist passage about women submitting to men. So many commentators have struggled to remind us that it isn't talking about an ancient hierarchy that accepted abuse, but about humble service, it is about respect for one another, sacrificial love like that of Christ. But as I studied I discovered that those commentators are trying to protect the Bible from its own cultural bias where male dominance was acceptable, and hitting a woman to keep her pure wasn't morally questioned. No one wants to admit that the bible is very close to suggesting that spousal abuse is okay, that would make it all too obvious that the bible is not a perfect book.
Even the translators are in on it. Here's the verse as several Bibles render it. Ephesians 5:33
"Nevertheless let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband." -- King James Version
"So each husband should love his wife as much as he loves himself, and each wife should respect her husband." -- Contemporary English Version
"Each of you, however, should love his wife as himself, and a wife should respect her husband." -- New Revised Standard Version
"However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband." -- New International Version
The problematic word is 'reverence' or 'respect'. It is a nice word, a gentle word, an acceptable word; but it isn't what the original Greek says. The original word is phobeo. You should recognize that, it is the word we use as phobia -- a deep and life-controlling fear. Every other time this word appears in the bible, it is translated as fear, afraid; but not here because that would not only unpopular, it would be immoral to suggest that wives should live in mortal fear of their husbands. Accurately rendering the word would force us to examine whether or not some of the biblical teachings are no longer acceptable; and admit that the authors were as human as we are, and subject to error. And that in turn might cause us to question. What teachings are applicable to us today? Where are the moments where God truly speaks, despite our human failings?
You see, I do believe that the Holy Spirit carries the text to us, but I also believe that the Holy Spirit continues to speak; sometimes correcting the past and leading us into newness of life. Yes, there is the danger that we will hear wrong, that we will twist the words to our own intentions -- but there is also the chance that God has plans for us that are greater, brighter and better than even those envisioned by the sages of the past.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Lesser Known Holy Days
One of the things that amazes me is how poorly attended the church services on special days in the Christian calendar. I am not talking about Christmas and Easter, they get enough publicity. Nor am I talking about the minuscule holidays like the feast of St. Briged of Kildare (which was February 1st) or the feast of the circumcision of Christ (which I am not sure why anyone would want to celebrate with a feast, and which has been overridden by New Years' Day -- although it does explain the use of alcoholic beverages as part of the celebration). What really amazes me, is that days like today -- Ash Wednesday -- or Holy Thursday and Good Friday aren't big draws.
These special services are among the most powerful in the Christian year. They have everything that the contemporary Christian seeks -- a strong appeal to one's emotions, an element of participation, music that is stirring, and the challenge to dig deep into our souls for that connection to God; and yet they only draw one-tenth of our Sunday crowd. I have a hard time believing that the other 90% are so shallow in their faith that they feel that one worship a week is enough. Nor am I willing to accept that these ancient rituals and stories no longer have meaning. A few years ago when The Passion of the Christ came out, people flocked to the theaters to witness it, as though it were a new thing. Yet every year, Good Friday provides a chance for us to hear the sacrificial story of Christ, and to contemplate its power in our lives. The story still carries power.
Nor is it because our culture is less spiritual than in the past. Those of the millenial generation increasingly say that they are spiritual but not religious, as if the two are different and disconnected. What that tells me is that the spiritual hunger is there, the desire for deep meaning and soul-feasting are there. I think there are two things at work here, one which is a misunderstanding of the spirituality of religion, and one which is the church's lack of focus and attention to detail on these days.
First, the misunderstanding. When the church provides the holidays which have spiritual power in its rawest form, people think of it as religious and not spiritual. Maybe I am wrong, but I think it has to do with one's view of tradition. Often the attitude is that if a practice is traditional, it comes from an impersonal organization, interested more in maintaining the institution and the old order, so people come to it with little expectation that it will affect them. It is religious, born of past generations, and has little to do with me. And when we come with that expectation, we close ourselves to the power of the practice.
To clear the misunderstanding, look not at the institution and the years of ritual, but look at the spiritual issue that the day addresses. Ash Wednesday struggles with our humanity; that is, our mortality and our need for forgiveness. These are issues that are at the core of our spirit, our fears, our questions. To hear again ashes to ashes, dust to dust; while contemplating a God who forgives and offers new life is a profound experience. If we come to the service with the expectation of examining our spirit, ready to cast away our past and leave with new resolve to do better; we will discover why the practice has been maintained for so long -- it moves religion from the institution to the individual heart.
The second thing that affects attendance at these days, is I think, the church's fault, and I include myself in this culpability. We don't put as much emphasis on them as we do our Sunday services. Nursery facilities are often not provided, there isn't a children's message or activity for the kids to participate in. The choir and the praise band don't sing. It is as though the pastor and the organist are the lone people involved. I am not sure if it is because we expect the power of the holy day to carry the service, or if we are such creatures of habit that we just don't think about it until it is too late. But whatever the reason, the church (including myself) needs to reevaluate its approach to these days.
It is time for us to emphasize the power and spirituality of the church experience, to help people see that the church puts as much effort into spirituality as it does into fund raising, and as much publicity for holy days as it does for its spaghetti suppers.
These special services are among the most powerful in the Christian year. They have everything that the contemporary Christian seeks -- a strong appeal to one's emotions, an element of participation, music that is stirring, and the challenge to dig deep into our souls for that connection to God; and yet they only draw one-tenth of our Sunday crowd. I have a hard time believing that the other 90% are so shallow in their faith that they feel that one worship a week is enough. Nor am I willing to accept that these ancient rituals and stories no longer have meaning. A few years ago when The Passion of the Christ came out, people flocked to the theaters to witness it, as though it were a new thing. Yet every year, Good Friday provides a chance for us to hear the sacrificial story of Christ, and to contemplate its power in our lives. The story still carries power.
Nor is it because our culture is less spiritual than in the past. Those of the millenial generation increasingly say that they are spiritual but not religious, as if the two are different and disconnected. What that tells me is that the spiritual hunger is there, the desire for deep meaning and soul-feasting are there. I think there are two things at work here, one which is a misunderstanding of the spirituality of religion, and one which is the church's lack of focus and attention to detail on these days.
First, the misunderstanding. When the church provides the holidays which have spiritual power in its rawest form, people think of it as religious and not spiritual. Maybe I am wrong, but I think it has to do with one's view of tradition. Often the attitude is that if a practice is traditional, it comes from an impersonal organization, interested more in maintaining the institution and the old order, so people come to it with little expectation that it will affect them. It is religious, born of past generations, and has little to do with me. And when we come with that expectation, we close ourselves to the power of the practice.
To clear the misunderstanding, look not at the institution and the years of ritual, but look at the spiritual issue that the day addresses. Ash Wednesday struggles with our humanity; that is, our mortality and our need for forgiveness. These are issues that are at the core of our spirit, our fears, our questions. To hear again ashes to ashes, dust to dust; while contemplating a God who forgives and offers new life is a profound experience. If we come to the service with the expectation of examining our spirit, ready to cast away our past and leave with new resolve to do better; we will discover why the practice has been maintained for so long -- it moves religion from the institution to the individual heart.
The second thing that affects attendance at these days, is I think, the church's fault, and I include myself in this culpability. We don't put as much emphasis on them as we do our Sunday services. Nursery facilities are often not provided, there isn't a children's message or activity for the kids to participate in. The choir and the praise band don't sing. It is as though the pastor and the organist are the lone people involved. I am not sure if it is because we expect the power of the holy day to carry the service, or if we are such creatures of habit that we just don't think about it until it is too late. But whatever the reason, the church (including myself) needs to reevaluate its approach to these days.
It is time for us to emphasize the power and spirituality of the church experience, to help people see that the church puts as much effort into spirituality as it does into fund raising, and as much publicity for holy days as it does for its spaghetti suppers.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Atheism
Most atheists have no clue what atheism actually means as a theological stand. People use the word as though it means that they don't believe in God. Even dictionary.com has only one definition, a doctrine or belief that there is no God. While that is how the word is commonly used, it does not reflect its meaning in the overall scheme of theological positions. Let me give you a review:
Theism is the traditional belief that God is a being, with a personality and mind, that stands outside of our own universe and yet exerts some amount of control and power over the physical world (perhaps as creator, and continued sustainer). Usually theists also believe that God is all-good, all-powerful and all-knowing. They key phrase here is that God is both a being and personal (having a personality). There are beings that are not personal, at least as far as we can tell, such as bacteria, algae, and so on. More on that when I get to deism.
Technically, atheism is the denial of theism, with the prefix a- meaning not, as in not a theist. What an atheist denies is that God has this particular package of divine traits. But it does not mean that the person does not believe in God at all. Although some people have tried to create a newer word -- nontheism, for religious beliefs that don't accept a personal God -- there was no need to. At its base, this is what atheism means. Unfortunately the term atheism has been kidnapped from its original meaning to mean the rejection of any religious position, and even worse atheism became associated with people who have no morals along with no religion. The term nontheism came to use because non-religious folk were afraid of being misunderstood when they said that they were atheistic. A person can be quite moral, and actually religious while being an atheist in the truest sense of sense of the word.
However, in defense of the way the word usage has evolved, in my experience most atheists are actually rejecting the dominant religious view of their culture (such as rejecting traditional Christianity) and are wanting to say that they are anti-religious. They often site the fact that God cannot be all-loving and all-powerful and allow evil to exist. Many never question whether God might have a different set of characteristics. Technically, one can be a theist and believe that God is evil, angry and wants to make your life miserable; rendering that argument insufficient for the denial of theism. Such people are more accurately antitheists, they are rejecting and standing strongly against the religious tradition, and oppose the belief in God.
Other people who use that label atheist will describe themselves as believing in science, in what is observable, repeatable, and arrived at by means of logic and research. Technically this is not atheism either, because there are many theistic possibilities that do not conflict with science. What these people are really saying is that they reject the fundamentalist position on God creating the world in seven days, or some other specific doctrine held by a religious sect (such as the earth being flat, or the sun orbiting the earth, or the idea that heaven resides on the dark side of the moon.) Such persons have a black and white view of religions, you either believe it all literally or none of it; and probably could be helped by reading further about other ways of viewing God.
Deism is the belief that God set the universe in motion, but then left it to its own. People often refer to this as the divine watchmaker theory. God is that which initially started the big-bang, and then stepped back to watch the show. Philosophers who suggest that our lives may actually be part of a computer simulation done by a higher being, are in a sense deists. The programmer is God, and we are simply the bits of code doing what the program tells us. Deism is usually theistic as in the example above, but not necessarily so. A deist could believe in a non-personal God setting things in motion by a natural life process, and simply not knowing nor caring that we exist as a product of its own life.
Panentheism (which my spell-checker doesn't even recognize as a word) is the belief that God and the universe are actually linked. Many people say that a Panentheist is a person who believes that the universe is the body of God, the physical manifestation of God, while God's mind or spirit are either outside of the universe or the consciousness of the universe. The idea parallels the philosophy of a mind-body dialectic, we are physical and yet have consciousness, why couldn't the universe also have a larger consciousness. Panentheism often gets confused with Pantheism, as evidenced by one of my favorite scenes from Britcom Red Dwarf.
Kryten: Surely you believe that God is in all things? Aren't you a pantheist?
Lister: Yeah, but I just don't think it applies to kitchen utensils. I'm not a FRYING pantheist. Machines do not have souls. Computers and calculators do not have an afterlife. You don't get hairdryers with tiny little wings, sitting on clouds and playing harps.
What is being described here is more like Panentheism -- God in all things, and yet beyond.
Transtheism is similar to Panentheism because it believes that gods were once physically part of the universe, but have ascended into a spirit world which is outside of what we know. Most religions that include a worship of ancestors are forms of transtheism. In fact, within Christianity the veneration of the saints is close to transtheism, although its practitioners would argue that they are only asking the saints to intervene with God on their behalf -- there still is the reverential approach to that which was once physical and is now spirit.
Pantheism is the belief that nature is all that there is. In other words, God is nature, nature is God. God does not have personality, other than the personalities that exist in nature. God is no more spirit than nature is spirit. God is the universe and the universe is God. Many people who call themselves atheists are in my opinion more accurately described as pantheists. They wouldn't call themselves that because they don't think they worship nature, but if they believe that nature is the only reality and only real power -- in my opinion that is what they actually are.
Others who claim the tag of atheist could also be called humanist. They still believe that there are ethics and morals that guide our lives, and that our lives are to be lived out within that code. It also usually indicates a value for humanity, individually and as a community; and prefers freedom of thought over doctrine and faith. Unfortunately the term humanist is as vague as the term atheist, and it has been used for so many groups that are religious in nature, as well as those that are not. In general, humanism is not a theological statement; but an ethical one.
Agnosticism is when a person isn't sure what they believe. Usually though it refers to a person who isn't sure if there is a theistic God. There may be or there may not be. Many intellectual people who have struggled with traditional church doctrine are agnostics. Honestly, most Christians and pastors at some time or another have moments of agnosticism. An agnostic may be considering all of the above as possibilities and simply admitting that it is difficult to tell the truth about the mystery of God.
Here's the deal -- deists, panentheists, frying pantheists, some humanists, and pantheists are all atheists because they reject the theistic view of God. So, all you atheists really should pick a more specific word that describes your beliefs -- it would be clearer, and you may discover you have more in common with many religious folk than you think, because I know practicing Christians who are all of the above.
Theism is the traditional belief that God is a being, with a personality and mind, that stands outside of our own universe and yet exerts some amount of control and power over the physical world (perhaps as creator, and continued sustainer). Usually theists also believe that God is all-good, all-powerful and all-knowing. They key phrase here is that God is both a being and personal (having a personality). There are beings that are not personal, at least as far as we can tell, such as bacteria, algae, and so on. More on that when I get to deism.
Technically, atheism is the denial of theism, with the prefix a- meaning not, as in not a theist. What an atheist denies is that God has this particular package of divine traits. But it does not mean that the person does not believe in God at all. Although some people have tried to create a newer word -- nontheism, for religious beliefs that don't accept a personal God -- there was no need to. At its base, this is what atheism means. Unfortunately the term atheism has been kidnapped from its original meaning to mean the rejection of any religious position, and even worse atheism became associated with people who have no morals along with no religion. The term nontheism came to use because non-religious folk were afraid of being misunderstood when they said that they were atheistic. A person can be quite moral, and actually religious while being an atheist in the truest sense of sense of the word.
However, in defense of the way the word usage has evolved, in my experience most atheists are actually rejecting the dominant religious view of their culture (such as rejecting traditional Christianity) and are wanting to say that they are anti-religious. They often site the fact that God cannot be all-loving and all-powerful and allow evil to exist. Many never question whether God might have a different set of characteristics. Technically, one can be a theist and believe that God is evil, angry and wants to make your life miserable; rendering that argument insufficient for the denial of theism. Such people are more accurately antitheists, they are rejecting and standing strongly against the religious tradition, and oppose the belief in God.
Other people who use that label atheist will describe themselves as believing in science, in what is observable, repeatable, and arrived at by means of logic and research. Technically this is not atheism either, because there are many theistic possibilities that do not conflict with science. What these people are really saying is that they reject the fundamentalist position on God creating the world in seven days, or some other specific doctrine held by a religious sect (such as the earth being flat, or the sun orbiting the earth, or the idea that heaven resides on the dark side of the moon.) Such persons have a black and white view of religions, you either believe it all literally or none of it; and probably could be helped by reading further about other ways of viewing God.
Deism is the belief that God set the universe in motion, but then left it to its own. People often refer to this as the divine watchmaker theory. God is that which initially started the big-bang, and then stepped back to watch the show. Philosophers who suggest that our lives may actually be part of a computer simulation done by a higher being, are in a sense deists. The programmer is God, and we are simply the bits of code doing what the program tells us. Deism is usually theistic as in the example above, but not necessarily so. A deist could believe in a non-personal God setting things in motion by a natural life process, and simply not knowing nor caring that we exist as a product of its own life.
Panentheism (which my spell-checker doesn't even recognize as a word) is the belief that God and the universe are actually linked. Many people say that a Panentheist is a person who believes that the universe is the body of God, the physical manifestation of God, while God's mind or spirit are either outside of the universe or the consciousness of the universe. The idea parallels the philosophy of a mind-body dialectic, we are physical and yet have consciousness, why couldn't the universe also have a larger consciousness. Panentheism often gets confused with Pantheism, as evidenced by one of my favorite scenes from Britcom Red Dwarf.
Kryten: Surely you believe that God is in all things? Aren't you a pantheist?
Lister: Yeah, but I just don't think it applies to kitchen utensils. I'm not a FRYING pantheist. Machines do not have souls. Computers and calculators do not have an afterlife. You don't get hairdryers with tiny little wings, sitting on clouds and playing harps.
What is being described here is more like Panentheism -- God in all things, and yet beyond.
Transtheism is similar to Panentheism because it believes that gods were once physically part of the universe, but have ascended into a spirit world which is outside of what we know. Most religions that include a worship of ancestors are forms of transtheism. In fact, within Christianity the veneration of the saints is close to transtheism, although its practitioners would argue that they are only asking the saints to intervene with God on their behalf -- there still is the reverential approach to that which was once physical and is now spirit.
Pantheism is the belief that nature is all that there is. In other words, God is nature, nature is God. God does not have personality, other than the personalities that exist in nature. God is no more spirit than nature is spirit. God is the universe and the universe is God. Many people who call themselves atheists are in my opinion more accurately described as pantheists. They wouldn't call themselves that because they don't think they worship nature, but if they believe that nature is the only reality and only real power -- in my opinion that is what they actually are.
Others who claim the tag of atheist could also be called humanist. They still believe that there are ethics and morals that guide our lives, and that our lives are to be lived out within that code. It also usually indicates a value for humanity, individually and as a community; and prefers freedom of thought over doctrine and faith. Unfortunately the term humanist is as vague as the term atheist, and it has been used for so many groups that are religious in nature, as well as those that are not. In general, humanism is not a theological statement; but an ethical one.
Agnosticism is when a person isn't sure what they believe. Usually though it refers to a person who isn't sure if there is a theistic God. There may be or there may not be. Many intellectual people who have struggled with traditional church doctrine are agnostics. Honestly, most Christians and pastors at some time or another have moments of agnosticism. An agnostic may be considering all of the above as possibilities and simply admitting that it is difficult to tell the truth about the mystery of God.
Here's the deal -- deists, panentheists, frying pantheists, some humanists, and pantheists are all atheists because they reject the theistic view of God. So, all you atheists really should pick a more specific word that describes your beliefs -- it would be clearer, and you may discover you have more in common with many religious folk than you think, because I know practicing Christians who are all of the above.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Believing in Stanley
Once in a while we Christians get it into our heads, that something is an absolutely essential belief of the faith, when it hasn't traditionally been one. For example, the idea of a rapture where people are scooped up out of their lives in this world, and their sudden absence results in driverless cars, pilotless planes, and people sitting in restaurants wondering when the waitress is ever going to return with their bill. In times past, there were other views of the end of the world and final judgment, just do a little research on the four primary interpretations of the book of Revelations and you will see. But in our current climate, if one questions the idea of rapture, one is in danger of being kicked out of heaven by the watchdogs of faith. In fact, a pastor friend of mine had that happen. He simply asked other pastors if there were other interpretations of the book of Revelations, and they pounced upon him like grand inquisitors upon a Spanish heretic, saying that he was no longer a Christian.
But the rapture isn't my primary topic today (as fun and exciting as it is), I want to talk to you about Stanley. You see, Stanley was once a pretty normal guy. He went out for his daily walks, did a little work, reported to his boss, and for the most part people ignored him. Like most of us, his tongue got him into trouble. Sometimes he said things in anger that he didn't really intend to be hurtful, and his stubborn pride was known to get in quarrels with people from time to time.
But then Stanley got his big break, he appeared in an epic rewriting of a classic tale and although he was cast as the villian, there was also something almost heroic and valiant about him as he stood up to the good guys. Kind of like Darth Vader, I suppose -- without question a villian, but a sexy one that you sort of admire for his spunk. Suddenly Stanley was everywhere. His image was on t-shirts, he hawked products on tv, there were even songs sung about him. His story was used to inspire revolutions and to terrify children into being good lest Stanley come to them in the night.
And Christians in time came to believe that Stanley was a necessary part of their religion. Unless you believed in Stanley, you weren't going to heaven. Which was strange, because if you look in the Bible, Stanley is hardly mentioned at all in the Old Testament. In fact whole verses, chapters, and even books go by without him being mentioned. Nor does he appear in the Apostle's Creed nor the Nicene Creed, nor even Statement of Faith of the United Church of Canada. Instead these things talk about God, and Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and much less exciting topics than Stanley, as if these are truly the important things in religion. How blind those people of long ago were! How could one explain life without Stanley? Who would we blame the problems of the world upon?
We need Stanley, almost as much as we need God (not that he could rival God, that would be heresy too, but he comes a close second). Once in a sermon I said that I didn't believe that Stanley was real, that Stanley was more of a metaphor for evil, and one man was irate, "You can't be a Christian if you don't believe in Stanley. One of Stanley's biggest tricks is to convince people he isn't real so that he can take them unawares." This surprised me, I didn't know that when I committed my life to following Jesus, I would have to watch my back for Stanley too. I was a little weak kneed in the face of such anger, and relented that I suppose Stanley could exist, but he certainly wasn't the focus of my life, and I wasn't going to stay up nights worrying about him leaping from my closet.
I just don't get this whole fascination with Stanley. Why are we so fixated upon a bit part villain when we follow the greatest hero of all time, from whose love neither angels nor demons, nor powers nor principalities can separate us? I guess I just focus on the guy in the white hat who rides into town on a white horse, rescues the damsels and luckless lads in distress, and rides off a victor over sin and death, and ignore the "Snidely Whiplash"-like, mustache twirling, Stanley who shouts "Drat!" in the background.
But the rapture isn't my primary topic today (as fun and exciting as it is), I want to talk to you about Stanley. You see, Stanley was once a pretty normal guy. He went out for his daily walks, did a little work, reported to his boss, and for the most part people ignored him. Like most of us, his tongue got him into trouble. Sometimes he said things in anger that he didn't really intend to be hurtful, and his stubborn pride was known to get in quarrels with people from time to time.
But then Stanley got his big break, he appeared in an epic rewriting of a classic tale and although he was cast as the villian, there was also something almost heroic and valiant about him as he stood up to the good guys. Kind of like Darth Vader, I suppose -- without question a villian, but a sexy one that you sort of admire for his spunk. Suddenly Stanley was everywhere. His image was on t-shirts, he hawked products on tv, there were even songs sung about him. His story was used to inspire revolutions and to terrify children into being good lest Stanley come to them in the night.
And Christians in time came to believe that Stanley was a necessary part of their religion. Unless you believed in Stanley, you weren't going to heaven. Which was strange, because if you look in the Bible, Stanley is hardly mentioned at all in the Old Testament. In fact whole verses, chapters, and even books go by without him being mentioned. Nor does he appear in the Apostle's Creed nor the Nicene Creed, nor even Statement of Faith of the United Church of Canada. Instead these things talk about God, and Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and much less exciting topics than Stanley, as if these are truly the important things in religion. How blind those people of long ago were! How could one explain life without Stanley? Who would we blame the problems of the world upon?
We need Stanley, almost as much as we need God (not that he could rival God, that would be heresy too, but he comes a close second). Once in a sermon I said that I didn't believe that Stanley was real, that Stanley was more of a metaphor for evil, and one man was irate, "You can't be a Christian if you don't believe in Stanley. One of Stanley's biggest tricks is to convince people he isn't real so that he can take them unawares." This surprised me, I didn't know that when I committed my life to following Jesus, I would have to watch my back for Stanley too. I was a little weak kneed in the face of such anger, and relented that I suppose Stanley could exist, but he certainly wasn't the focus of my life, and I wasn't going to stay up nights worrying about him leaping from my closet.
I just don't get this whole fascination with Stanley. Why are we so fixated upon a bit part villain when we follow the greatest hero of all time, from whose love neither angels nor demons, nor powers nor principalities can separate us? I guess I just focus on the guy in the white hat who rides into town on a white horse, rescues the damsels and luckless lads in distress, and rides off a victor over sin and death, and ignore the "Snidely Whiplash"-like, mustache twirling, Stanley who shouts "Drat!" in the background.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Secret Fears
This last Saturday, the Herald Palladium ran a news article that was originally written by Terry Mattingly of the Washington Journalism Center at the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities (that is the WJC at the CCCU for those of you who like acronyms). The article is entitled Secret fears of your pastor. In many ways, those secret fears are exactly why I started writing this blog -- to open up your eyes to the things that we pastors think, struggle with, and often don't share. Here are the fears he shares, and my own fun, sarcastic and relentlessly foolish reinterpretation of them.
Fear One -- That we won't be able to come up with anything from God to use for Sunday's sermon. Actually it is a little more complicated than that. Most pastors can talk without any problem, and most of us really don't have trouble finding a passage of scripture that we can talk about. In fact that is easy. But what has gotten difficult is that everyone is telling us we have to be 'relevant to the culture', that we must be entertaining, that what we say must have something that will change the lives of people who are in their 20's with young families, the Gen X'ers like myself, the baby boomers, and those who are in their 80's (by the way have you every tried to change anything in the life of an 80 year old? Good luck. As my high school algebra teacher used to say, "Your young and flexible, you can change. I'm old, and I can't, so do it my way.") The kicker to this fear is that the bible is often counter-cultural. So the preacher's task is to take a radical text, explain it in a way that is meaningful to this culture and all its subcultures, and do it in a way that is fun so that people come back. Now that's a challenge.
Fear Two -- That someone will notice that we are human. Harold Bales says that while people often hold pastors to a higher standard, we are people. But because we don't want to let people down, we don't tell people about our struggles with our marriages or our addictions or perhaps even our hobbies. Some have described the pastor's life as a fishbowl, our lives are so public, but there are still secrets we try to hide behind that bubbling treasure chest or that 'No fishing sign' that have been carefully placed in the bowl. Actually, for me and my family, this fact hasn't been that hard. I guess I don't have much to hide. I know that I make mistakes, like backing my car into my wife's van a few years ago -- and I am more than willing to tell people what a dolt I was to forget to check my rearview mirror.
Fear Three -- That if we preach the truth of Jesus Christ people won't like us anymore. There is such a high pressure on pastors right now to succeed. Churches are shrinking, our congregations are aging, and our supervisors are measuring us for effective ministry (meaning attendance and finances), the hard truths and recent discovers, that are about as much fun to swallow as that fake cherry antibiotic was as a kid, just don't seem very wise to speak on. For example, what would happen if the pastor really laid into the congregation on the idea that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God? Or if the pastor told you that many of the letters that are in the bible and attributed to the Apostle Paul probably weren't written by Paul, and the book of Isaiah was written by two or three different persons? Or that the Holy Spirit is referred to as female in some of the early Christian writings? Or that capitalism and even democracy really aren't the biblical models for economics and politics? Yikes. People would call us communist feminist revisionist historians who are unpatriotic and have bad breath.
Fear Four -- That we aren't making a difference. 18,000 pastors quit the ministry each year. When I was ordained we were told that the average pastor would only last 5 years after ordination before leaving the ministry. Five years! Yes, there are days when I feel that I have done so little to transform people's lives. People still struggle with finding meaning in life, people still face family breakdowns and crises, and people still fight over the color of the carpet in the sanctuary.
Yes, we pastors have fears. Thankfully, this last Sunday as I sat preparing for worship I read this:
Sometimes I feel discouraged, and think my work's in vain, but then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.
If you can't preach like Peter, if you can't pray like Paul, just tell the love of Jesus, and say he died for all.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole, there is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.
Friday, January 25, 2013
God and Country
Last Saturday, the boy scout troop that our church hosts awarded the rank of Eagle to four high achieving young men. I myself am an Eagle Scout and proud of that fact. It was the result of years of work, persistence, and truly helped train me in the practice of leading others, working with and organizing others, and humbling learning at the feet of others.
My reflection for the day is the delicately balanced phrase from the scout oath: "To do my duty to God and my country". It is a wonderful phrase, reminding us of those higher purposes in life and recommitting ourselves to serve them. No wonder then that so many scouts enter into the military, and that I myself entered into the ministry. There is a profound sense of duty -- doing what is expected, what is best for the greater good -- that was instilled in me and other scouts from a very young age.
But what happens when those two duties conflict? Because one of the great dangers of Christianity is the belief that these duties are one in the same: that by serving country we are always serving God (ie. that God has sanctioned our country above all others as the favored one, and so God sides with us in all things.) Christians in the United States are particularly susceptible to this falsehood, but all we have to do is look at the bible to remind ourselves that such a connection is idolatry. The prophets of ancient Israel called out to kings and leaders time and time again to bring themselves back to God, and certainly we cannot claim more of God's special favor than those leaders from the line of David serving the holy land. Given time and given human proclivity, sooner or later we will veer off course; what God wants and what our country wants are going to come into conflict.
What worries me is how often Christians choose to fall into the hands of nationalism rather than considering their duty to God. I know one pastor who moved the American flag out of the sanctuary, who had a man in his church say to him, "My first priority is my country, even before God." The suggestion was that he would die for country before dying for God, that he would worship country before he worshiped God, and given the choice of removing the flag or the cross from the sanctuary he would remove the cross. Now, I realize that most Christians would not go so far as to say that, but often they act like it. We act as though our duty to our country and its laws is greater than our duty to God, as though there is a US flag in the citadel of heaven and not a crucified redeemer.
The best example of this misplaced nationalism that I see is our attitude toward foreigners, whether they are immigrants (who are here illegally), or they are people in China working for minimal wages (and who stole our jobs), or beneficiaries of mission giving (when we have people who have needs here as well). The words in parentheses are nationalistic attitudes that simply cannot be held up to Judeo-Christian ideals. Strangers are to be welcomed as friends (as the old saying goes, you might be entertaining angels unawares), all people deserve a fair wage and a productive life (not just Americans), and the poverty here at home cannot hold a candle to the scale of those places far off where there is no infrastructure, no schools, no clean water source, no sewers, and no electricity (even before a natural disaster occurs).
As Christians in the United States we need to get our priorities back in line: put our duty to God first (as it is in the Boy Scout oath) and then our duty to country. Don't automatically assume that decisions made by our country are okay with God. We need to be people with a global vision, perhaps even a universal vision as we look at issues. Ask yourself, "What does God say about that issue? What would Jesus advise?" We may not like the answers that God speaks to us. I suspect that our real reason for putting our duty to country first is one of self-preservation, where we are hiding our self-serving attitudes behind a cover of our duty to our country, and when we are honest most of us really don't want to love our neighbors as ourselves.
My reflection for the day is the delicately balanced phrase from the scout oath: "To do my duty to God and my country". It is a wonderful phrase, reminding us of those higher purposes in life and recommitting ourselves to serve them. No wonder then that so many scouts enter into the military, and that I myself entered into the ministry. There is a profound sense of duty -- doing what is expected, what is best for the greater good -- that was instilled in me and other scouts from a very young age.
But what happens when those two duties conflict? Because one of the great dangers of Christianity is the belief that these duties are one in the same: that by serving country we are always serving God (ie. that God has sanctioned our country above all others as the favored one, and so God sides with us in all things.) Christians in the United States are particularly susceptible to this falsehood, but all we have to do is look at the bible to remind ourselves that such a connection is idolatry. The prophets of ancient Israel called out to kings and leaders time and time again to bring themselves back to God, and certainly we cannot claim more of God's special favor than those leaders from the line of David serving the holy land. Given time and given human proclivity, sooner or later we will veer off course; what God wants and what our country wants are going to come into conflict.
What worries me is how often Christians choose to fall into the hands of nationalism rather than considering their duty to God. I know one pastor who moved the American flag out of the sanctuary, who had a man in his church say to him, "My first priority is my country, even before God." The suggestion was that he would die for country before dying for God, that he would worship country before he worshiped God, and given the choice of removing the flag or the cross from the sanctuary he would remove the cross. Now, I realize that most Christians would not go so far as to say that, but often they act like it. We act as though our duty to our country and its laws is greater than our duty to God, as though there is a US flag in the citadel of heaven and not a crucified redeemer.
The best example of this misplaced nationalism that I see is our attitude toward foreigners, whether they are immigrants (who are here illegally), or they are people in China working for minimal wages (and who stole our jobs), or beneficiaries of mission giving (when we have people who have needs here as well). The words in parentheses are nationalistic attitudes that simply cannot be held up to Judeo-Christian ideals. Strangers are to be welcomed as friends (as the old saying goes, you might be entertaining angels unawares), all people deserve a fair wage and a productive life (not just Americans), and the poverty here at home cannot hold a candle to the scale of those places far off where there is no infrastructure, no schools, no clean water source, no sewers, and no electricity (even before a natural disaster occurs).
As Christians in the United States we need to get our priorities back in line: put our duty to God first (as it is in the Boy Scout oath) and then our duty to country. Don't automatically assume that decisions made by our country are okay with God. We need to be people with a global vision, perhaps even a universal vision as we look at issues. Ask yourself, "What does God say about that issue? What would Jesus advise?" We may not like the answers that God speaks to us. I suspect that our real reason for putting our duty to country first is one of self-preservation, where we are hiding our self-serving attitudes behind a cover of our duty to our country, and when we are honest most of us really don't want to love our neighbors as ourselves.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
You Didn't Visit Me
Then the king will say to those on his left, "Get away from me! You are under God's curse. Go into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels! I was hungry, but you did not give me anything to eat, and I was thirsty, but you did not give me anything to drink. I was a stranger, but you did not welcome me, and I was naked, but you did not give me any clothes to wear. I was sick and in jail, but you did not take care of me." Matthew 25:41-43 (CEV)
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Let me warn you, we are not driving where you expect to go. The above scripture will totally mislead you if you think I am going to talk about the Christian duty to the poor. Actually, I would like to totally misapply it to a number of modern businesses and professionals.
Imagine if you just bought a computer from Best Buy. You and I both know they have those cute little black and white cars with Geek Squad on the side, and they will come to your house to help you set it up, plug it in, and get started (for a fee of course). They will also come to your home if you have a problem, like the DVD drive stopped working after your three year old stuffed a piece of toast in there. But there is this customer service problem -- if you want them to come, you have to call them. They should just now when your computer is broken and come out and help you. There should be some way through the internet that they can tell there is a problem and send a driver over to fix it without your having to lift the phone. Right?
Or imagine that you have suddenly come down with a horrible case of collywobbles (intestinal cramping) and you can't get our of bed. It just keeps getting worse and worse. You think you may have appendicitis, and you tell every one you know all the details. But even after starting the telephone chain and the rumor mill your doctor never shows up at your door to take a look at you. He or she should know by now, you've told enough busybodies that it should be the talk of the town -- its even posted on Facebook. Even after a few weeks the doctor does not come. Why? Doesn't your doctor care? Then one day your appendix bursts and you have to call an ambulance to take you to the hospital. Certainly you have a malpractice claim, and the doctor should pay for your expenses, since if he or she had only gotten to you sooner your appendix wouldn't have burst. Right?
Or imagine that you are in desperate need of cheering up. You are down in the dumps so low that the earthworms know your name. What would really help is a visit from Ronald McDonald, because the nostalgia of seeing his happy smile and his big shoes brings you back to your childhood, when you had no worries. Besides you are sort of craving a hamburger with extra ketchup and double pickles. But day after day, Ronald doesn't show up at your door, and so you slip deeper and deeper into depression, and hamburger deprivation. Certainly as large an organization as McDonald's should have a way of knowing your need. They must have a satellite with hamburger deprivation detection, so they can send out an emergency hamburger delivery by Ronald McDonald himself (or at least one of his employee minions dressed up like him). Right?
So have you figured out where this is going, because there is a pattern here. If you want something, in practically any area of life, from any business or professional person -- you have to initiate the contact. You call Best Buy, you go to the doctor's office, you drive through McDonald's and order three strawberry shakes to cheer yourself up. But church people often expect the pastor to just be there, without a call, without a request, without asking. I hate to tell you but if Best Buy, your doctor, and McDonald's haven't figured out a way to respond to your needs before you ask -- neither have we. God does not deliver little notices to our e-mail inbox that say, "Mrs. Myrna Flynn is in the hospital and would like a visit." And though we try to keep a close watch on our social network, sometimes the gossip train skips our house and we don't here the news.
Yet, even though they haven't lifted the phone, or said anything to us, people get mad when we aren't there. I have even had people leave the church over something I knew nothing about until months later. People, take responsibility for yourselves, if you have a need tell us. Push the vending machine button and order E6 -- one hospital visit (free of charge). Do something to make sure we know. Then if we don't come, it won't be because we didn't know (it may be because we think you are a hypersensitive angry old goat, but then at least you will have good reason to be mad).
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