Love, apologies, and prayer breakfasts

I sat in a room filled with hundreds of Christians and felt a little bit like an outsider.

This was the second year I’ve attended the Iowa Prayer Breakfast… held every Maundy Thursday in Des Moines.  It includes prayers for our state and leaders, music, and a keynote message.  On the site, it clearly states that “people from all walks of life come to enjoy this Maundy Thursday celebration.”

I am so grateful for the opportunity to go and be in prayer with so many faithful people and for those who have invited me.  And that is because my hope and prayer for this kind of public gathering of people of faith is that the above statement is lived out:  that the tent is big enough for all walks of life and all corners of the Christian family to find a place in that room. After all,  ALL of our prayers are needed during these difficult times.

Yet, that wasn’t entirely my experience.

I found myself constantly wanting to interject with a “yes, but…” or “what about…” or “that’s not exactly right…”

The lineup of past speakers for this event has been full of Christian apologists and I found myself wanting to apologize for the public theology I was encountering.  I looked out on the 1,000+ people in attendance and feared that some might think this was the full scope of Christianity. And while it wasn’t appropriate to stand and lift up counterpoints in the moment, I do have this platform to lift up a different voice.

During the event, more than one speaker lifted up the religious persecution of Christians and Jews.  Our governor said, “The lives, the safety, the well-being of Christians and Jews especially in the Middle East is certainly threatened.”  Yet, Religious persecution is not limited to these two faiths. In the wake of the attacks in Brussels, I mourn for the loss of life there, and know that Yazidis, Turkmen, and Shia Muslims are daily under attack from ISIS in their homes as well.  I inhabit a Christian faith that also weeps with Sikh and Muslim and Buddhist and unbelieving brothers and sisters around the world who fear for their lives because of this kind of persecution.

As Branstad turned his gaze to threats to our religious freedom in the United States, I lift up the words of George Washington in his letter to the Hebrew Congregation:

…happily, the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it [toleration] on all occasions their effectual support… May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants – while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.

The Christian faith does not ask us to abandon our love, care, and concern for brothers and sisters of other faiths. Rather than being “under attack,” I am free to practice my faith every single day without fear and yet I know that Muslim brothers and sisters right here in Des Moines sometimes have to be careful about how they do so.  As such, I was moved to tears as Pope Francis washed and kissed the feet of Muslim refugees on Maundy Thursday.   As a fellow clergywoman, Janie McElwee Smith, wrote:

The truth is this: no matter what else we do, say, or stand for, if we do not follow Christ’s commandment to love all of God’s children as Jesus has loved us, then we have not just missed the point. Nothing else we do will matter ?

What if this Iowa Prayer Breakfast, held on Maundy Thursday, was an extension of the command Jesus gives on this day: to love.

What if we lifted up in our prayers of lament and confession the realities of racism, homelessness, addiction, hunger, and poverty in our state.  What if instead of simply naming the evils and wickedness of our nation (and subtly placing the blame on the sinful people out there), we actually turned that same introspection to our own hearts – to the intolerance, the greed, the fears we perpetuate in spite of our proclaimed trust in the Lord. In a room filled with elected leaders, what if together, we repented of our failure to love the last, the least, and the lost.  After all, Maundy Thursday reminds us that in spite of the disciples’ failings, fears, and betrayal, Jesus loved them and washed their feet and continued to trust them with the message and mission of the Kingdom of God.  This day, above all days, it is appropriate to find ourselves in that crowd of those who turned their backs and to admit our sins. What if the message we heard on this morning was a challenge to a room full of influential leaders to repent and live more faithfully as disciples of Christ in the world?

I am exceptionally curious if this event is as politically partisan as it appeared this time, every year.  It felt more like the faith was promoting the elected leadership, rather than the leadership together with the public seeking God’s direction and blessing.  If this, truly, was a space where all Christians could pray for Iowa, in spite of our political leanings, then I think there would be much greater room for confession, lament, thanksgiving, and prayers for vision and unity.  I think whenever we surround ourselves with a particular perspective, we have a hard time seeing ourselves clearly.    Our current republican administration was represented through those elected officials in attendance and I can imagine those who are tasked with organizing the event are careful not to ruffle feathers. I wonder if it felt tilted in the opposite direction during democratic administrations.  Or does this gathering represent a more particular lens of Christian tradition?   My imagination and hope for this event is that the walls dividing us politically might be leveled as we share a meal with those with which we might not agree. After all, we share a common love for Jesus and this world and that love crosses all boundaries.

Two final words:

download1) Our speaker, Dr. Alveda King, did hearken back to the original languages in interpreting Romans 13, but then lifted up a cry against using X-mas instead of Christmas… with great applause from the crowd.  Note: the X used in this expression is a Christogram, in this case the letter “Chi” and the first letter of Christ in the Greek language, often used alone to represent Christ.  It can also be seen in the chi-rho, where the two Greek letters are combined to represent the person of Christ.

2) I have only attended for two years, but I have yet to see a clergywoman speak from the platform and three pastors spoke/prayed each year. I’d be happy to hear it has been otherwise in the past. Also, only four of the speakers listed since 1977 were women, including this year’s keynote. Both years, thankfully, scripture has been shared by a laywoman.  One way to intentionally show that “people from all walks of life” are welcome is to include people from all walks of life as speakers.

 

A Spotlight and a Platform

Format Image

Martin Shkreli, the man who raised prices on various life-saving drugs purely for profit, testified before Congress recently:

 

What really struck me in this video, was the plea of Mr. Cummings.

He lifted up the truth of the impact of Mr. Shkreli’s actions, but did not merely question or shame or condemn him.  Instead, he turned the interrogation into a witness to the power of transformation.  While so much of the world has written off Mr. Shkreli as a terrible, rotten person who deserves the worst the world can throw at him, Mr. Cummings spoke to his better angels.

“You have a spotlight and you have a platform.”

“I truly believe you could become a force of tremendous good.”

“There’s so many people that could use your help. May God bless you.”

 

And you could see, for a moment, Mr. Shkreli squirming in his seat.

 

How do we, as the church, speak the truth to people who have power?  We do it in love.

Shouting has its moments, but sometimes truth-telling happens with a quiet voice… a persistent voice (“are you listening?”)… that requires the other to pay attention.

Sometimes, it is the vision of what could be that is just as effective as what has been.

Sometimes, we appeal to the Kingdom of God by naming the small kernel of possibility and hope we see in the humanity of another person… even if it is really, really, really tiny.

 

Our politics and discourse with one another these days is so vicious and dividing.  It happens in elections and in our capitols and it happens in our church life as well.

What if instead we reached out to one another like Mr. Cummings?

What if instead we listened to the words of Christ in Matthew 5:43-45?

Love your enemies and pray for those who harass you.

 

Just as Mr. Shkreli has a platform and a spotlight, so do you, with every action you take every day.  And you have a chance to stand there and speak for truth and justice and love.

Face-to-Face

There is a struggle and a tension I have with facebook.

If I am going to be honest, it is one of my primary sources of news.

It’s a place I get information and get informed and pass along the world to others.

And so sometimes, I use it as a vehicle for naming realities and lifting up my concerns about what is happening in the world.

 

But I’m no longer sure if I can/should use it in that way, and here is why…

We tend to only listen for what we want to hear and our facebook newsfeeds can be an echo chamber of similar beliefs.

We tend to throw out quick comments to provoke or inspire or joke, but we never actually have a conversation.

We tend to entrench ourselves only further into our own realities.

We tend to not actually do anything after we click “post”.

 

This morning, I listened to a sermon by Magrey deVega (which I found on Facebook) about whether or not there is room to restore ourselves from fear.  He names the conflict, persecution, and very understandable fear of the Thessalonian community and then lifts up that Paul’s deep desire and longing for these people who were overcome by fear was to “see you face to face.” He couldn’t bear being apart from them in the midst of their struggle.  He wanted to look them in the eyes and reassure them, comfort them, encourage them to hold fast, to keep going, to trust in God’s promises.

 

We can post things on facebook all day long about the things that trouble us, but we are just adding fuel to the fires of division, or preaching to the choir, or feeling like we are doing something when in fact we are not.

When we do so, we are in essence, standing on the street corner with a megaphone, trying to convince someone long enough to stay and listen.

I don’t think I can change a person’s mind through a facebook post.

I’m pretty sure I can’t change public policy through a facebook post.

I *might* be able to educate via a facebook post, but the reality is that there is counter-information out there for just about every single topic we might imagine and so if you don’t start from the same position as I do, it’s not helpful.

And half the time, the stuff we share uses headlines that are intended to incite or skew and another half of the time, no one actually reads the article and starts posting their own opinion anyways without taking the time for a reasoned conversation.

 

If we ever want to have a truly transformative conversation where we let the Holy Spirit move and lead us in forward together in spite of our differences, it is going to have to be a face to face conversation among equals.

If we want to overcome our fears, we are going to have to sit down face to face with the person we disagree with.

If we want to express a viewpoint and have a reasonable dialogue, it is going to go so much better face to face.

 

I thought for about half a second about just not going on facebook, but the truth is, I have a deep community of accountability, support and encouragement there.  It is the best place to crowd source information about ministry that I have found.  It is a place for networking and encouragement.  It is a place where I go to let go of steam and complain when the copy machine isn’t working. I find pastoral care opportunities I would never hear of otherwise all over my newsfeed. I find solidarity and hope and wisdom and blessing all over the place on facebook.

 

Here’s what I’m going to try.

I can’t stop caring about the issues I care about.

So, instead of posting or sharing some random article or thought, I’m going to share an invitation to have a face-to-face conversation about the topic with any who might be interested.

Or, I’m going to post about what I’m actually committed to doing in regards to that issue… along with an invitation to physically join me or personally talk with me about the action.

But, I’m not going to just share something to stir the pot or even to educate/advocate, because it simply isn’t effective and it stresses me out.

It’s not the new year, yet, but that is my resolution.

 

 

Two Texts: Iran, Cuba, and the Gerasene Demoniac

Format Image

This month, our “Two Texts” series takes seriously the advice of Karl Barth… that we should take the bible and take the newspaper and read both.

All sorts of stories have caught our attention over the summer and have led us to wonder what the Bible might have to say about that.

What do people of faith have to say about these issues of our day?

And how do we, as a congregation with many different perspectives, look at these stories in a way that respects one another?

I and Pastor Todd can’t claim to be experts on world events, politics, finance and sociology. But we do know this book. And so our series this month will not dive into the details of policies, but will instead point us to biblical themes that have a bearing on our world today.

Will you pray with me…

 

I must start in our exploration of diplomacy in the midst of disagreements by reiterating a confession I just made. I am not an expert on these topics. In fact, the roots of both of the conflicts we will talk about today started before I was born.

In 1960, Cuba took over and nationalized American-owned oil refineries without permission or compensation.   The Cuban Revolution had overthrown the Batista regime, Fidel Castro was in power, and the United States and our economic leaders were … well… not happy. October 19th of that year began the United States embargo against Cuba.

Our national relationship with Iran also changed as the result of a revolution. In 1979, their United States supported leaders were overthrown. Eventually Iran became an Islamic republic, led by the Grand Ayatollah Khomeini. There were a number of factors that eventually severed relations between our countries, but perhaps one of the greatest began on November 4 of that year. A group, angry that Iran’s former leader had been allowed into the United States, took over the American embassy and held 52 diplomats hostage for over a year. Over the years that have followed, our sour relations have focused on the attempted development of nuclear weapons by their country.

Our anger, our fears, our troubled relationships have led us to keep both of these nations at more than an arm’s length. We see them as dangerous to ourselves and our interests. We have intentionally cut off our connection with both nations in an attempt to force them to change and keep ourselves safe.

 

When we turn to the pages of the Bible, I am reminded of someone else who was kept at a distance. In the region of the Gerasenes, there was a man no one could control. He had been possessed by an evil spirit and was causing chaos in his community. As the Message bible tells us, “no one could restrain him – he couldn’t be chained, couldn’t be tied down. He had been tied up many times with chains and ropes, but he broke the chains, snapped the ropes. No one was strong enough to tame him. Night and day he roamed through the graves and the hills, screaming out and slashing himself with sharp stones.”

 

How should we respond to those we fear? Or disagree with?

Do we keep them at a distance?

Do we try to chain them up and isolate them?

Do we prefer to turn our backs, avoiding them at all costs, while they in turn self-destruct?

That is what the people in the Gerasene region did. They were helpless. They were scared. And they kept their distance. Can we blame them? They are human like we are.

 

But what do we do about a whole country?

We think of this biblical story as the story of a single person, but when we dive deeper, this is a story about communities.

As Jesus approaches the demoniac (the demon possessed man) he tries to cast out the spirit. And he asks the spirit’s name…

“My name is Mob.” “My name is Legion.”

The spirit was not one, but thousands. A Legion is actually a military term for an entire unit in the Roman army… between 3-6,000 foot soldiers.

An entire community was living inside that man, tormenting him and everyone around.

So the larger community did what they could. They couldn’t cast them out. They couldn’t change the man, so they chained him up. They isolated him in the hopes that the spirits would leave.

Much like the larger world community has used sanctions and embargos and severed diplomatic ties with Iran and Cuba in order to protect ourselves and to force a change in the regimes of these places.

 

This summer, we have seen our diplomatic ties with these places soften a bit. We have reached a historic compromise with Iran that we are now debating in our own country. We have warmed up to Cuba and will soon be opening a United States Embassy there. We have reached out as a nation to talk, to imagine new possibilities, to rebuild relationships.

 

When Jesus approached the Gerasene Demoniac, nothing about the man had softened or changed. He was still as dangerous as ever. But through God, all kinds of healing are possible. Where the rest of the countryside had given up, Jesus knew that the man could be saved.

And so Jesus and the Legion had a talk. They negotiated. They each made some diplomatic concessions.

 

There are three larger themes I think we can point to in this story.

First, knowing Jesus had the power to cast them out, they begged Jesus to be merciful.

Power is a dangerous thing. In each of the conflicts mentioned, military power has been a thread of both disagreements – whether it was missiles pointed at our country or the development of nuclear weapons. But our nation also has a strong measure of power that has kept the other at bay.

Each week this month, we are also including a bulletin insert from the Social Principles of the United Methodist Church. Maybe we can think of this as our third text. These are the official positions of our church on some of the issues we are exploring today.

This one, in particular, challenges us to love our enemies, seek justice, and serve as reconcilers of conflict. It is a reminder that our first moral duty is to work together to resolve by peaceful means every dispute that arises. It is also a strong condemnation against nuclear weapons.

Above all, it is a reminder that our power to hurt one another is great. And as people of faith, our call instead is to always seek peace first.

Rather than destroy the mob of spirits, Jesus showed them mercy.

I mentioned at the start of the message this morning that I wasn’t even alive when these conflicts started, but I learned along the way that over half of the population of Iran wasn’t around for the beginning of this conflict either. Half of their population is under the age of 25. A quarter of their people are under the age of 15. They certainly didn’t start the conflict, but they are impacted by it.

Mercy in these situations looks like recognizing each nation as a part of the human family and prioritizing human values over military claims. It means listening to the hopes and concerns of the other as we seek a way forward.

 

Second, this story reminds us that there are no easy answers to these negotiations. There are sacrifices and consequences to be made along the way.

As Jesus showed the Legion mercy, he allowed them to enter a herd of pigs that were grazing nearby. As we heard our lay reader say, nearly two thousand animals were possessed and driven mad, they charged over a cliff into the lake and drowned.

While pigs are not clean animals and wouldn’t have been part of the diet of the Jewish families, this was a gentile region. Someone or many someone’s lost their entire herd that day. The economic livelihood of many families was probably destroyed.

Yet, you also have to consider that the economic well-being of the region was probably hampered to begin with if this possessed man had been terrorizing the countryside. Travelers and merchants probably avoided the area as much as possible.

Every negotiation has a give and take. Diplomacy is not easy and it is important to consider what must be sacrificed for the greater good. That doesn’t mean anyone will be happy… and the people of the region, though initially relieved were pretty upset with Jesus over the pigs.

In our diplomacy with Iran and Cuba, we might not all agree on the specifics of the deals. But we must remember that in all cases, a negotiation means we let some things go, so that we might reach other objectives.

 

Lastly, this is a story of reconciliation. Relieved, embarrassed, ashamed, the man who had been possessed by the Legion, now didn’t know what to do. He begged Jesus to allow him to run away with the disciples.

But Jesus refused. He ordered him to return to his own people, to his own community, to find his place there again.

In every encounter Jesus has with those who are displaced, shunned, or isolated, his end goal is to return them to their own community. It is not to rescue or remove them, but to reconcile them. Think of the Samaritan woman, or the prodigal son, the lepers or the hemorrhaging woman? In every instance, they are healed so they can return to their place in society.

If we are the Body of Christ, then we need one another. This church community needs those we disagree with and those we don’t understand. We all have something to teach one another.

On a global stage, we might not all share the same faith or belief systems, but we are all human beings. We breathe the same air and need the same water. Our economies and politics impact the people of this world, not only their leaders. Whether we like it or not, we are all in this together.

 

As we encounter the news and hear stories of our diplomatic ties to Iran and Cuba and other places where our relationships have been difficult, let us think of the Gerasene Demoniac.

Think of the man, the Legion, and think about how Jesus walked right up and offered a path forward. Not an easy path, but a just path, a merciful path, a path towards reconciliation.

May we seek these things in all of our relationships.

Amen.

Image: Second Coming of Christ With Two Gospel Miracles
Detail: Christ and the Gerasene Demoniac
Artist:  Alexey Pismenny

Dear "Sign Guy"…

As I drive north on 380 from home, there is a field right by the interstate that has a homespun billboard.  For five years, I have been disappointed by the trite, sometimes offensive, and always partisan slogans that grace this sign.

Maybe part of my disappointment is there is no opportunity for relationship or conversation. What is the point of having a sign without a vehicle to interact? I want to know why this person thinks what they do, why they feel the need to so visually post their thoughts,  and what impact they think they are making. Typically this kind of negative sloganism promotes further division rather than a bridging of opinions.

I actually saw him once, out there changing the words to “Obummer… more lies” (with the iconc ‘O’ of the Obama campaign”) one day as I drove whizzing past. I must admit feeling… well, not ill thoughts towards this gentleman,  but certainly not pleasant ones. I do remember exclaiming, “really?” on one of my last drives.

But today when I drove by, I was more than pleasantly surprised. In place of the usual partisan soundbyte was a sign that read:

God bless medical workers.

My feelings about this person increased a hundred-fold. Who is this guy? Why the switch to a positive message? What would happen if instead of spewing spin and negative slandars we took more time to pray together, to celebrate good work, to point to where God is active?

My entire drive I thought about that sign.

I thought about my family members who work in the healthcare industry.  I thought about doctors and nurses who had cared for me and for loved ones. I thought about all the medical professionals involved in the tragedies this week in Boson, MA and West, TX. I thought about those who are working to fight malaria.

I don’t know whose sign it is.

I’m not any closer to relationship with that man. 

But he is in my prayers tonight. I thank God for some good words on a long drive and for a perceived change in attitude. 

I am hoping the next sign inspires me as much as this last one.

Words and Deeds

How many of you have facebook?

How many of you have no clue what facebook is?

One of the great things about facebook is that you can connect with people from various parts of your life all at once.  And my friends span the spectrum from extreme liberals to die hard conservatives.

I don’t have to watch one second of campaign coverage and I can tell you who was speaking, where and when and what lots of different types of people thought about it.

Today, we find ourselves on the Sunday between our two major political party conventions.

And on facebook and in person, I have seen people laugh and cry, jest and jeer, shout praises and mutter criticisms… folks have been angry or excited and rarely anything in between.  Some are accused of lying.  Others of ignorance.  Some people are called stupid. Wealthy has become a bad word – as has the term poor. We point fingers. We refuse to accept blame. We pass around the buck. And rarely are we making these arguments in logical, coherent, calm conversations.

Politics sure brings out the worst in us… doesn’t it?

Or is it just that politics takes all of those pent up feelings we carry around with us every day and it crystallizes our differences, our frustrations, our anxieties?

I started out by asking about how many of you have facebook, because the nasty behavior I see in politics is an every day occurrence in social media.

But it’s also an everyday occurrence in our school hallways.

And in our bars and restaurants.

And around our dinner tables.

And in our private conversations with other people.

The truth of the matter is… we have forgotten how to talk to one another.

This isn’t simply a secular problem.  The same thing is seen in our churches as well.

I had more than my share of church politicking this year, as I had the honor of representing our conference of the UnitedMethodistChurch at our quadrennial global gathering.

One thousand United Methodists from all across the globe gathered in Tampa to make decisions about the future of our church and our mission… and a lot of what we did was stand up and make speeches and refuse to listen… which in turn led to a failure to act. We talked our problems to death and in the end have little to show for it.

Each of our denominations has similar meetings – from session and presbytery meetings, to district events and conferences.  And it doesn’t matter if you are Methodist or Nazarene or Congregationalist or answer to a pastor or a pope – we don’t always agree and it isn’t always a pretty conversation.

I wonder if that kind of contentious debate about what it means to “be the church” is what led James to write his letter to the people of God.

I think he looked around at the arguments, and the infighting, and the trials people were going through and he felt called to say something… to refocus our attention on what really matters: the word of God that transforms us all.

The passage that Morrie read for us this morning comes from the first chapter of this letter.

A huge problem James discerns is favoritism and conflict between different classes of people in the church… so he starts out by leveling the playing field:  we all have tests and trials.

What separates us, James writes, is that some of us stand firm in our faith in the midst of those trials…  and some of us are tossed about with every fad and sea change.  It doesn’t matter if you are rich or poor…those who stand firm are the ones who are blessed.

Now – this matters, because James goes on to describe how every good and perfect gift comes from God.

What doesn’t come from God are our own cravings, our desires, the things that we hold on to more tightly than we hold on to God.

I want to do a quick thought experiment with you… think of one thing that you hold onto tightly in your life:  maybe it is an addiction… or your schedule…maybe it is a way of doing something in the church… or an everyday object like your cell phone.

Imagine that one thing… that thing that you can’t live without…

Now, ask yourself – and be truthful now – how many times in the past year has that “thing” caused conflict?

How many times did it lead you to yell at someone?

How many times did it cause you to act out of character?

How many times did you miss the opportunity to grow in your faith or your relationships because you were too stubborn to let go of it?

James writes his letter to the people of God because they are so focused on what they want and what they think and what they believe that he no longer sees the true word of God in their midst.

They have deceived themselves into thinking that they had the truth – when all they have done is distort God’s word into something dirty and foul to suit their own needs.

And then… they argued about it. They argued about who was more important and who was right.  They argued about who was included and who should be forgotten.  They argued about how much time they had to put in and why they didn’t need to get their hands dirty any more.

And in doing so, they exchanged the gift of life and peace and love of God for the cares and desires and sin of this world.

You know what?  We have, too.

If we were to be truly honest with ourselves, we encourage our youth to use their fists more than words… and teach them to use words that pack a punch that could hurt the toughest soul.

We teach our children they deserve to have everything without regards to the cost.

We as adults are quick to judge when we encounter someone with different political view points.  We make assumptions.

We close our doors to the neediest around us and put a check in the mail to make ourselves feel better.

We spend our days working hard so that we can have the finer things in life and then are too tired to enjoy them.

We use and abuse one another so that we can get ahead.

We ask the question, “how will this help me?” more than “how can I help others?”

No wonder the spirit of discourse around us has crumbled.  Internally focused, afraid of one another, distrusting of the systems that are supposed to help and support us, wary about the future….

Those words do not describe a people, a community, a nation that has the saving word of God planted within.

The question is what do we have to clear out so that the good and perfect word of God can take root in our souls again?

James has a few solutions for us.

First of all, we need to recapture a spirit of humility.  We need to recognize that we are not God’s gift to this earth – but imperfect vessels that the word of God can transform.

Humility means that we treat the word of God as a gift, and not something that we deserve.

Humility means that we make ourselves low so that others might be raised up.

Humility means that we put another before ourselves.

Humility means that we are quick to truly listen to what another person has to say before we butt in with our own thoughts and feelings.

Second, we need to practice every day the words that we hear at bible study or in prayer group or in worship.

David Lose, who writes for Working Preacher, says:  “Sunday is not the most important day of the Christian week.”  It is every other day, the in-between days that truly show whether or not that saving word of God is taking root.

James tells us that too often we hear the word of God and do not do it.  We listen to the sermon on Sunday morning and then go out and forget everything that we heard.

We need to study the word and put it into practice.  On Monday morning, we need to let kindness rule our actions.  On Tuesday evening, we need to let God’s patience rule our heart.  On Thursday afternoon around the water cooler, we need to let the gift of God’s love rule our conversations.  In every small act of every single day, we need to let that heavenly gift of God shine through our lives.

Lastly, we need to be careful about our words.

James calls us to listen… but when we do finally speak, we need to ask whether our words are rooted in anger or in love.

Do the words we use come from the word of God planted within?  Or from the desires of our imperfect selves?

Are our conversations pleasing to our Lord?  Or are we trying to impress others?

In verse 26 of our passage for this morning, James writes, “If those who claim devotion to God don’t control what they say, they mislead themselves.”

Our words matter.  They can be used to hurt or to heal.  They can be used to encourage or to tear down.  They can be used to expand God’s kingdom or to erect barriers for the Holy Spirit.

We who are gathered here represent the people of God in Marengo, Iowa.  And our words and our deeds matter.  They represent to the world who God is and how he desires us to live.

In your conversations on facebook and in real life… in your actions towards strangers and your best friends… do people see the good and perfect gift of God in your life?

We often cling so tightly to our stuff, our issues, and our solutions that we can’t open our hands to receive the amazing and beautiful gifts of God.

Let go.  Open your hearts and your hands to welcome the word of God. And then live it out in every moment of your days to everyone you meet.

Say yes to compassion.  Say yes to forgiveness.  Say yes to patience.  Say yes to kindness and joy and love and peace.  Let them take root in your soul and flourish in your life.

If we do… this world truly will be transformed.

Amen.

The Spirit of Debate

I love to have a good argument! 

One of my favorite memories from college was debating with my good friend, Brian Johnson.  We argued about anything and everything… politics, religion, who could marry, why you shouldn’t marry, our favorite philosophers, the best movie, you get the picture.  There was something about a debate with Mr. Johnson that made your heart beat faster and sharpened your intellect.  You were thinking deeply.  You were listening for flaws and places to make counterpoints. You were learning what rhetorical strategies worked and which didn’t. 

Most of mine, didn’t work. 

I lost a lot of debates with my good friend – probably because he was on course to become a professor of philosophy – but through it all, we remained good friends.  Even when we got flustered after a good fight, we could turn around and the next moment go eat dinner together. 

Debating and politicking can be exciting… to a point.  But sometimes a vigorous debate turns into a personal attack.  Sometimes fighting just for the sake of fighting reveals hidden anxieties and anger.  And sometimes, when parties impose their ideas on others, reality clashes with ideals and people are hurt in the process. 

It is a reality we see all the time in Washington, D.C. as political parties refuse to compromise their platforms to deal with the lived reality of the people they are called to serve.  But it is also a reality in our churches.  A good natured debate, a serious conversation about what we should do sometimes turns ugly and hurts our Body of Christ far more than we could imagine.

In Acts 15, we find one of the first recorded official church council meetings.  In the history books and in the headings of our bibles, we know this as the Council of Jerusalem.  It was the first time the church leaders gathered together to make an important decision about what should be done… and about who could be included.

Conflict is normal and expected in the life of a church.  In fact, as Rev. Dr. Jill Sanders reminds me often, conflict is simply two different ideas occupying the same space.  How we handle that conflict, and what kind of debate we have, is what can make or break relationships and groups. 

As the Holy Spirit moved through this early church argument, we can learn about how we, too, in the 21st century can handle the conflict that arises.

First – when the question or problem arises, you address it directly.

The issue in this instance was a debate about whether or not Gentiles had to be circumcised before they could be saved.  That is, did they have to become Jewish before they could accept Christ as their Lord and Savior. 

Paul and Barnabas were out working among the people and gentiles were converting to the Jesus left and right.  All along, all they had ever taught was that Jesus was the way and the truth and the life.  No prerequisites.  No admission exams. Christ and Christ alone was the source of salvation. 

But a group of folks comes along teaching something different.  Paul and Barnabas could have had a number of options here. 

They could have ignored this new teaching and continued to do what they were doing… with both ideas growing up alongside of one another in the community.  But that only delays the debate until a time when people are more entrenched in one position or another.

They could have driven the newcomers out of town violently… which was what sometimes happened to them when their teachings were not well received by a community.

But Barnabas and Paul had the wherewith all to directly address the problem. They confronted the teachers and argued against them.  They spoke their piece.  They defended their position.  And most assuredly, the other side made their arguments as well.  A healthy conflict allows room for disagreement and conversation.  It allows for people to stand in one place or another.  They talked and argued until they were finished.

What our scriptures don’t tell us is how this conflict was resolved.  There is no tale of winners and losers in the debate.  What we next hear is that Paul and Barnabas are being sent from Antioch – the community they were serving – to go up to Jerusalem to get an official ruling on the issue. 

Which leads me to point two:  some arguments and debates are bigger than us as individuals.  A sign of maturity and health in any conflict is calling in other voices when the debate has reached a stalemate. 

In the world of business, this might be a mediator.  In a marriage, this might involve seeing a counselor.  In a church, its when you place a call to your district superintendent.  Sometimes we need neutral third parties to help us to see the bigger picture and to resolve our differences. 

But sometimes, we also need to have a larger conversation because the impact of our decisions involve more than simply us. 

The church in Antioch realized that the debate they were having would merely be repeated time and time again across the world… it was not a question only for them, but for the whole Body of Christ.  The power of a group speaking together – of a group deciding to live one way or another – would define that body one way or another.  They could either be a church who welcomed Gentiles as they were or a church who demanded circumcision, but they couldn’t be both.  They made a mature decision and sent the question to a higher authority.

That is not to say that all arguments require calling in the big guns.  If a church can’t agree about what color of carpet to install, the bishop doesn’t need to be informed.  The carpet isn’t a life or death matter of identity. 

But when we have fundamental disagreements about who to welcome, or how to interact with a particular social issue like immigration, then we might find we are having conversations that are bigger than us. 

That doesn’t mean they are conversation we shouldn’t participate in or have a voice in… it simply means that we also need to include others. 

So the Council of Jerusalem meets and the apostles and the elders all gather together to hear about what they problem is and to make an official decision. 

The third thing that we can learn is what the nature of these discussions should be.  As Acts 15 describes this debate, it plays out much like a courtroom scene.  Parties stand and argue their case.  People listen and wait their turn.  The gathering is respectful and honest with one another.

One of the more powerful realities of this testimony of scripture is that names are not tossed back and forth.  No party is painted to be the bad guy.  There is no negative campaigning or slander.  Each group simply speaks the truth about who they are, what they have experienced, and what they believe.

Those who believed in circumcision stood and made their case from the perspective of tradition and then others began to speak as well. 

Peter stood and talked about his vision of the gospel for the Gentiles and the conversion of Cornelius.  He lifted up the revelation of God he had received and his calling to carry that message back to the church.

Barnabas and Paul stood and spoke about their ministry among the gentiles and the signs and wonders they saw. 

And in each case, the people were allowed to tell their whole story.  They weren’t questioned or cross-examined.  They simply shared their experience and others listened.  They listened completely – not with the intent of finding flaws in the argument or ways to defeat them… they simply listened. 

When one party was done speaking, they waited in silence until the next voice was ready to speak.  It was a respectful, holy debate. 

And when all had spoken, James felt moved to respond on behalf of the assembly.  He lifted up the scriptures and the precedent for ministry to Gentiles even in the Old Testament.  He made a statement, and it was affirmed by the whole body. Gentiles would be welcomed, as they were… no additional burden would be placed upon them.

A letter was written and sent out to all the churches – a letter that would clarify the church teaching, a letter to provide stability and unity among the people of God. This letter assured the people that the Holy Spirit had led them to a decision… no burden would be placed upon them but these essentials: to refuse food offered to idols and refrain from sexual immorality. 

John Wesley was often fond of saying: In essentials, unity; in unessentials, liberty; in all things – charity (that is to say, love). 

In the course of their debate, the early church argued about the essentials – about how we are saved and who we should be as the people of God.  And sometimes their positions on those essentials would change – as would later happen with the prohibition against eating food that had been sacrificed to idols. But there were also many questions they didn’t address and left unanswered.  There were questions that were not important and were practiced differently depending on what city or village you were in at the time. 

But perhaps most important is that these conversations happened with grace and love and respect. 

With my friend, Brian Johnson, our friendship was always prioritized above all else.  The questions we were asking of one another did not ultimately matter.  Brian might disagree with me of course =) , but I guess I mean that even if there was a right answer, our friendship was more important than the debate we were having. Sure, the questions were important and someday we might be in positions and places where the decisions we made and the answers we arrived at really would matter.  But what was truly important was the fact that we could argue and disagree and still love one another. 

The same is not always the case with the church.  The same is certainly not the case in our nation.  We yell and demonize and refuse to listen to one another. We line up for chicken sandwiches or stay home and choose to boycott.  We get so caught up in the little things, the unessentials that don’t matter, that we have no energy left to talk about what is really important. 

May we let go of our fears and our pride.  May we open our hearts and minds to truly listen to one another.  And may we have a different sort of argument… an argument filled with the spirit of love. 

Amen and Amen.

Spirit of Household Salvation

Religion is social.  Religion is corporate.  Religion is political.

As Christianity spread in the time of the apostles and beyond, it was often not the work of one-on-one conversations and personal confessions of faith, but of corporate conversions… of whole nations turning from one religion to another. 

I did some reading this week about the reformation in Norway in the 16th century.  Up to this point, Norway had been a Catholic country… being converted in the 9th century through the faith of Olav II, their beloved king who was later sainted. 

But with political allegiances changing, suddenly a union between Denmark and Norway was on the horizon.  And Christian III, king of Denmark was lining up to take his place on the Norwegian throne. 

The problem… Christian was a Lutheran.  He had been taught by Lutherans.  He had even traveled as a young man and heard Martin Luther speak in person.  And so his goal was to establish his kingdom as a protestant haven.  

The first step, of course, is to get rid of the Catholic leadership.  In 1536, the Catholic bishops were kicked out and replaced with Lutheran bishops appointed by the new king.  Archbishop Olav Engelbrektsson tried to resist these reforms and keep Norway from being united with Denmark.  There was even talk about establishing Christian’s younger brother John as king… since he remained favorable to the Catholic faith.   The Archbishop tried to do everything he could to resist the change, even helping to plan the assassination of an earl who was traveling to Norway to discuss the union.  Engelbrektsson ended his days in exile.

While all of this was going on in the realms of bishops and earls and kings… What do you think the everyday person was thinking.  Overnight they were transformed from Catholics to Lutherans. They didn’t have a say in the matter, they may not have even noticed a real difference. They were converted, wholesale, as a group.

In our world today, this makes no sense to us. Faith is so private and individualized. We make our confessions and trust in a personal Lord and savior.

But historically, this is the exception and not the norm. For much of history, faith has been a corporate… A communal experience.  Your religion was based upon the faith of your father or master or lord or king.  Your flavor of Christianity was not based upon the nuances that you chose, but the political affiliations and personal whims of someone higher up the food chain.

We could argue for days about whether it is better for faith to be personalized as it is today in our nation, or a corporate experience as it still is in some places today. 

We certainly have known the advantages of being able to have our own say about our faith.  You can know our God personally… you can turn to the scriptures and can find out for yourself what they contain.  You get to decide whether or not you join the church or go to church

But I believe this isn’t an either/or question.  There are some things about having a communal expression of faith that we have lost.  As we dive into this chapter of Acts, we might be able to figure out how not to throw the baby out with the bath water.

David Matson argues that we could see the entire book of Acts as a story about houses….  We start out the narrative with the disciples gathered together in a house and the story ends with Paul under house arrest on an island, telling the stories of faith to those who will come and visit.

Then, throughout the journey of the disciples, they travel from house to house, sharing the faith they have received.  We have heard of Peter and Cornelius, Paul and Ananias… and here in this chapter Paul and Silas meet up with two different families in the city of Philippi.

One of these households is led by a woman named Lydia.  The bible tells us she is a dealer of purple cloth – a wealthy woman trading a rare luxury commodity.  We know nothing of her husband, but she does well enough for herself that either he isn’t around or isn’t relevant to the story.  She is the head of the household.  And when she hears the story of salvation in her place of prayer by the river, she invites Paul and Silas back to her home and her whole household is baptized. 

The second household conversion happens after a Roman jailer experiences a miracle.  He had locked Paul and Silas up in jail under strict orders to keep them secure.  When an earthquake shakes their bars loose in the middle of the night – he is convinced his life is over.  With the prisoners escape, he will be punished and killed.  Just as he is about to end his life – Paul calls out from the cell… they had not left, even though they could have.

The jailer is so overwhelmed that he wants to know about the faith that has sustained them in difficult times, the faith that has allowed them to be so calm in the midst of distress.  He takes the two back to his home and he and his entire household are saved.

What can we learn from these two tales? 

First:  Lydia and the soldier both experienced conversion outside of their homes…. but took their faith back home with them. And not only that… they took people back with them. 

Now, it would be important here to mention what we mean by a household.  In the Greco-Roman world, the household was the place of residence of a family, but also of all the slaves and grown children under the master of that household’s authority.  The household could be rather large and encompassed all of a person’s business, social, and familial relationships.  The pater familias had unilateral authority over his wife, his children and his servants.

This thing that they had witnessed – the story they had heard – it was too important to keep to themselves.  As the heads of their households, they knew that this faith was not something that only belonged to them but it was meant to be shared.  They opened up not only their hearts, but their whole lives to the power of God. They made sure that this new conversion in their lives extended to EVERY part of their life – their children, their wives, their servants.

When we experience faith and conversion, do we run home and tell our families?  Do we share that faith with our employees?  Do we allow God into every part of our life? Do we make room for him in our homes, in our work, in the places we go to socialize?

One way that we could reclaim this idea of household salvation is to simply open up our whole selves to his power…

Secondly, the scriptures tell us that their whole households were baptized.  The act of baptism is personal.  More than a blanket statement that a whole nation is now Lutheran instead of Catholic, to baptize a whole household means that each person would have come before Paul and Silas to recieve the water.  Young and old. Rich and poor. Slave and free.  The head of the household would have lined them all up and said – you are going to do this. 

It sounds a lot like mom and dad getting the kids dressed up for church and dragging them kicking and screaming to the family pew. 

But it was important in that time and place for the whole household to believe the same things.  In the Greco-Roman world, your household worshipped one god among many.  To bring in idols or religious artifacts related to another deity would have caused your primary god to be jealous.  A master of a household would have had strict control over the faith of those under their authority. 

That sounds harsh to us today, until we realize that every day we make choices about what our family stands for and what we consume. 

We make choices about what food we eat, what television shows are allowed to be watched in our houses, what activities we will or will not participate in.  For a family that is trying to eat healthy, McDonald’s french fries are strictly forbidden.  For a family trying to instil good values in their children, much of MTV might be off the list.  We set rules and boundaries every day and each of those decisions says something about who we are and what we believe.

We also practice in our tradition infant baptism.  And when we baptize children, we are making promises on their behalf.  We are holding their faith for them. We are making decisions about their relationship with God even though they are not even aware of God’s presence yet. 

When we do so, we promise to raise them in the church, to hold that faith for them and to teach them until the day comes when they can accept or reject that faith for themselves.

Until that day comes, our job is to feed them properly (so to speak). If we believe it, we should live it, and live it in our whole lives.

If we think back to the tale of the Norwegian Reformation, the short version of the story goes:  The King appointed a new Lutheran bishop.  The old Catholic bishop appointed a new king… and as we all know from the Ollie and Lena jokes that we sometimes tell, the Lutherans won.

Someone, somewhere up the  food chain made a decision about the faith of the people.  And at the time, they had no say.  At the time, they may not have imagined what it meant.  But as time has gone one, Norwegians by and large identify themselves as Lutherans.  They lived into the faith that was handed to them.  They have claimed it as their own. 

In the same way, our children and grandchildren might live into the faith that we hold if we continue to bring them to this place… if we nurture them in the traditions that have sustained us… if we lead them to the Christ we have come to know and love. 

Your faith extends far beyond your life.  It extends to all of your relationships.  It extends to your family and friends and into every part of your life.  Let Christ in. Let Christ change you.  And let Christ have your relationships also.