One Preacher's Attempts on Trinity Sunday

For better or worse, here's the sermon for Trinity Sunday, based on the text of the hymn Te Deum:

http://goodshepherdnwa.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/06-03-12S.mp3

If you would like to hear some of the Gregorian chant that accompanied it:

http://goodshepherdnwa.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/06-03-12R.mp3

We praise thee, O God :     we acknowledge thee to be the Lord. All the earth doth worship thee :     the Father everlasting. To thee all Angels cry aloud :     the Heavens, and all the Powers therein. To thee Cherubim and Seraphim :     continually do cry, Holy, Holy, Holy :     Lord God of Sabaoth; Heaven and earth are full of the Majesty :     of thy glory. The glorious company of the Apostles : praise thee. The goodly fellowship of the Prophets : praise thee. The noble army of Martyrs : praise thee. The holy Church throughout all the world :     doth acknowledge thee; The Father : of an infinite Majesty; Thine honourable, true : and only Son; Also the Holy Ghost : the Comforter. Thou art the King of Glory : O Christ. Thou art the everlasting Son : of the Father. When thou tookest upon thee to deliver man :     thou didst not abhor the Virgin's womb. When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death :     thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers. Thou sittest at the right hand of God : in the glory of the Father. We believe that thou shalt come : to be our Judge. We therefore pray thee, help thy servants :     whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood. Make them to be numbered with thy Saints : in glory everlasting.

Mid-life Lesson #27: If it weren't for the bible, I'd give up on the bible

Let's say your only exposure to Scripture were quotations you have read second-hand in letters to the editor in our local paper. You'd be left to conclude one of the following:

1) Scripture is a giant, angry, and irrational tome that condemns homosexuality (and by implication affirms heterosexuality, ipso facto. *see footnote).

2) Christians sit around all day reciting to themselves the two or three sentences in Scripture that actually address something like what we call homosexuality today--on all other issues, they make arguments from reason or experience and leave the bible silently on the nightstand.

The bible, in this scenario, becomes a kind of enforcing document for social practices the authors of the letters disagree with, perhaps even find disgusting. In the meantime, they go ahead and eat pork (Deuteronomy 14:8), borrow and loan money at interest (Leviticus 25:35-37), and fail to return property to its original owners every fifty years at the jubilee year (Leviticus 25:10-54).

Or if these examples seem too ancient and Old Testament-ish (not that there is anything wrong with that), consider the failure of most Christians, especially the ones who write angry letters to the paper (or myself, in posting this blog perhaps), to welcome those who are weak in faith (Romans 14:1), even "put up" with the failings of the weak (Romans 15:1).

I just keep waiting for the day when someone writes to the paper and complains that a Christian leader (I could easily be the target) doesn't kiss the members of his or her congregation enough. I mean, clearly the bible tells Christians to kiss each other (Romans 16:16; 1 Corinthians 16:20; 2 Corinthians 13:12; 1 Thessalonians 5:26; 1 Peter 5:14). By my count, the bible says five different times that Christians should greet each other with a kiss--why doesn't our failure to practice this make it into the letters to the editor section of the paper more frequently?

Everything I've said so far is, as it were, kind of like plucking low hanging fruit. It's the easy response. "Look at these Christians who are more like biblicists than I am, watch me out biblicize them. Nana nana booboo!"

I don't want to stay there, although it's worth at least saying something like what I've already said, if for no other reason than to offer a somewhat wider picture of what is actually contained in Scripture. Slightly adapting Hamlet's analytical assertion to Horatio, "There are more things in the bible, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

So try this. Quoting the bible to support our arguments is problematic because a) we typically only go looking for bible quotes that support rather than challenge our assumptions, b) frankly, there's way more in the bible than most of us can keep track of, and c) we tend to make the leap to the bible says from I come to the conclusion based on my reading of the bible that... In other words, we typically assume the bible is saying what we believe it is saying, and conveniently forget much of what is there that would challenge us rather than others. We assume the meaning we make out of our reading of the bible is what the bible actually means. That's a big, unethical and dangerous step.

In classic terms, this is the danger of eisegesis. The good and healthy warning, however, is that everything is always eisegesis. There is no pure exegesis. And until we recognize this, it is rather dangerous to move forward, and certainly problematic to use select bible passages to bolster our politics or social activism.

All of which leads me to this precipice: I kind of feel like giving up on the bible. 


Seriously, if this is all the bible does, all it is good for, if this is how the average non-Christian experiences the bible as it is used in Christian community or quasi-Christian culture, then I want nothing to do with it. I'd rather leave the bible dusty and aging on the shelves it typically occupies, and move on. At this point I sympathize more with the agnostics, atheists, and post-religious.

What pulls me back from the precipice: The bible is just so damn interesting.


For one thing, just to name one thing, if you read the Old Testament, and then compare it to other near Eastern literature, you'll find out the God portrayed in those ancient texts, the one that spends so much time working a really difficult relationship with the Israelites and offering up a host of laws as part of the covenant this God makes with God's people, has genuine concern for the poor, the marginalized, the foreigner, the child, the weak. It's remarkable, because this God, the God on offer in these texts, cares about stuff the gods of most other faiths of the time and place would never condescend to concern themselves over.

Or this Jesus that we meet (to name one other "thing"): we get four gospels about him, and by the time those are read, along with the other letters and writings that were collected together with them to form the New Testament, you get a rather knotty but fascinating portrayal of a "Triune God," the "very kind of God we need for sinners, the poor, and the dead and forgotten to have half a chance" (from a friend, private correspondence).

I think we keep the bible at arms length in our culture and lives for good reason--it's holy. Not holy in the tired sense of that term, as in "this book is holy and so you have to listen to it, and listen to me when I tell you that the bible is completely clear and comprehensible and understandable and I as a reader who knows it is clear am here to tell you why it affirms my own worldview and condemns others who think differently than me." No, the bible is holy in another sense--it is wholly other, and so subverts us, convicts us, changes us. It is holy in the sense of, "Watch out, get too close to that thing and it might burn you."

We like to ignore the very hard sayings in Scripture that would, if we listened to them and then acted on what we heard, would have to change our entire lives. We love to pay very close attention to the hard sayings of Scripture that don't apply to us directly but do censure others. We like to foist the burden of the holiness of Scripture on others. We seldom take on the yoke of the holiness of Scripture in our own lives.

Mea culpa. You-a culpa. We-all-a culpa.

All of which leads me into a philosophy I attempt to live out in other contexts: when challenged, lean in. Don't bail on the text because it is misused. Remember that's a logical fallacy. Abusus non tollit usus. The abuse does not negate the proper use. Don't bail on the text because it is holy. In spite of the burning danger, this is the kind of refining fire that cures and heals and makes whole.

Instead, lean in. Get close to it, see what these holy words might do. Stop assuming the bible means something and you--you of all people--have any clue what it means. Instead, make meaning out of your reading of the text, with humility and humor and heat. There is a world of difference between these two modes. The first is idolatry, the second is faith, and never the twain shall meet.

* Nevermind that the bible cares very little about either of these decidedly modern psychological inventions. For more on this, I highly recommend as a summer read Sex and the Single Savior: Gender and Sexuality in Biblical Interpretation, by Dale B. Martin

Mid-life Lesson #27: The Eucharist is for babies, too

It is precisely within what some have called the ‘first stage of faith,’ that is, ages two to six, where children possess the greatest and most lasting responsiveness to images, rituals, and symbols. Given this, it should become increasingly clear as well that the denial of the Eucharist to the youngest of baptized children is nothing other than the denial of the primary way in which they actually can participate in the symbolic, ritual, and image-laden liturgical self-expression of the faith community.”[1]

Because liturgy is its own best catechesis, and the best way for anyone to learn about communion is to participate in communion.

---

[1] Maxwell Johnson, The Rites of Christian Initiation: Their Evolution and Interpretation, 374-375.

New epigram for this blog?

Now taking votes... should the following quote become the new epigram for Lutheran Confessions?

"Our freedom is that which Christ graciously promises in baptismal living where we are free to serve the neighbor in need, unencumbered by preoccupation with our own salvation."

Pentecost/The Absence of Christ

Audio of my sermon for Pentecost Sunday. Hovering around the John 15 text and Christ's statement that it is better if he goes away, digging deep on the relationship between the Spirit and the Father and the Son.

But really digging in on the threefold Dadaist statement of Jesus that the Spirit will prove the world wrong about judgment, righteousness, and sin.

Listen if it interests you. Pentecost blessings to all.

Pentecost = Easter ≠ Christmas

If you were to rank Christian festivals in order of their importance, what would come first, second, and then third? If we use our own cultural Christianity in North America as a gauge, Christmas comes first, with Easter a close second (and a side conversation could be had about Halloween, but let's not go there, other than as an aside).

So, Christmas, then Easter, and then?

Here's the interesting truth. Within Christian tradition, the highest festival is and always has been Easter itself. Here cultural Christianity and historic Christianity overlap.

However, the elevation of Christmas is of later vintage. The incarnation of the Word of God in human form is a big deal, no question, but as a feast day and festival, it never was as central.

There is another festival in the Christian tradition that has always ranked as high as Easter, the second great feast of the church. Unfortunately it's just that we don't give it as much cultural credential as we should. This festival comes fifty days after Easter, and so is named for those fifty (pente) days--Pentecost. 

This year this festival just so happens to fall on Memorial Day weekend. I'd venture to guess that more people are observing Memorial Day than Pentecost this weekend. Am I right?

In historical perspective, however, Christians rank Pentecost as the other great feast of the church because it is the celebration and commemoration of the Holy Spirit, proceeding from the Father and sent by the risen and ascended Christ, upon the early Christian community. Since the Holy Spirit is the continuing presence of Christ with the people of God, giving life, inspiring the continuing preaching of God's Word, hovering over the sacraments, and giving its many gifts, there is ample reason to see why the descent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost is important for the church 

If you have never heard or read the story, you can read it in Acts 2:1-6, and you can read Christ's promise to send the Holy Spirit in John 15:26-27.

If Easter is proof of the life-giving power of God in Christ beyond death, Pentecost is proof of the life-giving power of God continuing not just in Christ, but in all those who have heard the gospel and are now empowered by the Spirit.

Pentecost is an evocative day. Christians think of fire, baptism, breath, wind, languages, life. They often wear red on this day (fairly easy to do in Razorback country). They baptize on this day (our own Pentecost worship will include the baptism of a child). Some Christians get quite animated in celebration of the Spirit. Christians of my tribe (Lutheran) go crazy by lighting votive candles or changing the paraments to red.

I do wonder why we pay less attention to Pentecost than Easter or Christmas. Perhaps it is less material, more "spiritual." Perhaps it is a little more difficult to comprehend, because the face of Christianity (Christ) goes away and ascends to the Father and then sends this Spirit. Wind is hard to depict or capture. It's a strange situation, Christ going away that his Spirit might come. Presence in absence. An enigma that is also life-giving is more difficult to depict or contain.

It's a strange day. Fifty days earlier Christians were celebrating Christ's resurrected presence with them. Then he goes away, and sends this wild Spirit. Christ isn't around or available. Christ is with the Father. It is the Holy Spirit, sent by them, who continues to make Christ know, according to Christian faith and tradition. 

And that is just a little weird and wild, because we live in a culture that likes to put religious faith into neatly wrapped up categories, making faith about rules and morals and customs and guidelines. If God is on the loose, alive in the Spirit, in even just a few of the ways signified by Pentecost, then religious faith, Christian faith, is actually about freedom and righteousness that sometimes transgresses traditional morality. 

The Spirit is the spirit of life and energy and hope and community and joy. Or as we say in the confirmation of the spirit's presence at each baptism: the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, spirit of joy in God's presence. 

Which is why Pentecost is my favorite feast of the church year. Remember to wear your red.

Mid-life Lesson #28: Things aren't going to hell

I wish I had a dollar for every time I have heard a sentiment fairly similar to this one, "I don't know, pastor, it sure seems like the world is just a lot worse place than it used to be."

Every once in awhile, this sentiment is uttered in the context of great suffering and trial. The person who speaks it witnessed or experienced unspeakable tragedy. I weep with them, and mourn. And in those cases, I understand why it is said, and I sympathize.

However, most of the time I think the sentiment arises either--

a) because the speaker has romanticized and idealized their own past, or
b) the speaker watches too much television and reads the newspaper and forms their worldview from those two sources

Often it is an admixture of the two.

If you actually think the world is as it is portrayed in the newspaper and on television, the world is pretty horrible. The concentration of sensationalized horror is pretty high. But if most of us, by comparison, read instead our lived experience, or cull other sources than the morning paper or nightly news, we would see how far off the mark this sentiment really is.

There's a verse in Ecclesiastes that addresses this situation well.

Eccl. 7:10 Do not say, “Why were the former days better than these?”

For it is not from wisdom that you ask this. 

If you don't trust the NRSV translation, then consider the NIV:

Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?”
    For it is not wise to ask such questions.

The point is clear. It is not a sign of wisdom to compare the present to the past, and come to the conclusion that the former days were better than the old days.

By implication, although Ecclesiastes is not as forthright on this point, we could as easily imagine Qoheleth (the author of Ecclesiastes), saying,

Do not say, "Why are the present days so much better than the olden days?"
     For it is not wise to ask such questions.

Ecclesiastes does come close, when it says,

What has been is what will be, 
       and what has been done is what will be done;
       there is nothing new under the sun. (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

My point in all of this is simple: Things aren't going to hell. Quite the opposite, if we hope and trust in the God we know in Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit, then things, generally speaking as they chart their course into the future, are on their way to God. The future is coming to us, and it is life in God. And the present time, mystery of mystery, is also in God's hands.

Sometimes I think the worry that the world is falling apart arises out of an unwillingness to embrace the beauty of the new. Certain people, having tired of needing to change more than a few times as culture and history march inexorably forward, simply give up in their embrace of what is next.

However, even young people who have gone through less change are still tempted by this spiritual malaise, albeit in a slightly different variation. Sometimes they are not open to the past impinging on their glorious present, because they never have had to change, and the culture, especially our culture, tends to valorize their youth and cool factor.

Generations are judgmental in both directions on this point. Often youth can't see what the older generation valued as being valuable. The older generations, on the other hand, worry about the future (quickly becoming the present) being placed in the hands of the youth. And some people who are older are actually young. And some people who are younger are prematurely old. This is not strictly a factor of age. It is a factor of mentality. It is a measuring rod for wisdom.

My generation has been at risk often of saying, "Boomers suck." Boomers are at risk of saying, "The youth are scary." And so on. I think the sentiment on either side needs to stop, and grow up.

If there is a way forward in all of this (and I trust there is), the way forward is the same way as always. It's a two-part recipe.

1) Be radically open to the new and different that comes to you from your neighbor, especially your neighbor who is older/younger, richer/poorer, stranger/familiarer, closer/farther than you and to you.

2) Think assets. What is it that this new present brings that is gift, not threat? Map the assets and opportunities rather than detriments and dismissals.

Ask, How are the present days actually quite a bit like the olden days? That's the best question, because any good historian will tell you that every generation, in certain ways, shares the same kinds of worries, and the same kinds of questions. Everything old is new again, and everything new is old.

--
I might add mid-life lessons #28a and #28b: First, don't watch television, especially the news. Second, Ecclesiastes is a totally under-rated book of the bible, and is at the heart of my spirituality as a pastor and theologian.

Mid-life lesson #29: Alcohol ain't that great

About nine years ago I gave up drinking alcohol. The only alcohol I now consume is a small amount of wine in the weekly Eucharist. Other than that, I don't touch the stuff.

Without going into an overly long biographical sketch, during my twenties I became increasingly addicted to alcohol. I took up brewing beer as a hobby in order to justify it. I lived in Slovakia where alcohol is an integral part of much of the culture. Then I moved to Wisconsin, where drinking is also endemic.

But the primary responsibility is with me. I have a problem with alcohol. If I drink some, my brain wants more. Lots more.

So one day while talking with a counselor about my depression, I finally admitted that I was drinking. My counselor's immediate response: "Are you ready for yesterday to have been the last time you drank alcohol?"

My stomach rolled over, I swallowed, and then I said, "Yes. Yes."

Since then I haven't been drinking, nor do I intend to ever take it up again. I don't participate in any programs like AA. I have been blessed in simply being able to stop. I know others have different stories, so my story is neither prescriptive nor valorous. It's just how my story has gone.

I have mixed feelings about how to talk about drinking with those who still do. Clearly some people can drink without needing to drink to excess. Good for you.

However, because I have seen alcohol destroy so many people and so many families, it is hard for me to encourage drinking even to people who aren't addicts.

Mostly I recommend that people not drink, either because of the temptations, or because of the impact it has on others.

I also love the clarity of mind I have since quitting. I sleep better. I'm healthier, period. I know, there are some moderate health benefits from drinking red wine, etc. However, overall I don't see any real benefits to booze, I mostly see the harm.

So I tend to say, without moralizing it (or trying not to moralize it) that life generally speaking is better without alcohol. And I thank God for the freedom I have as a non-drinker.