CCBlogs thinking critically, living faithfully

I tend to post pieces here that can be provocative.  I do so with a purpose, I want to provoke a conversation about things that matter.  Sometimes I feel the need to speak out against what I perceive is an injustice.  I don't claim to be Jeremiah or Amos, but when I see something that needs to be addressed, I will say something, as I did earlier today regarding the Florida pastor. 
My concern tonight is that once again, a conversation quickly degenerated, and in this case got rather nasty.  But this isn't the only time this has happened.  It seems that every once in awhile the conversation ends up in an endless series of diatribes, and discussions that become a series of vicious circles.  Too often we already know what the other party has to say.
So, it's time for me to step in and provide some guidelines.  I'd like to see the tone of the conversation change, and if people don't abide by these rules, then I'll have to take further actions. 
So, for now, I'm issuing a warning -- If I deem comments, like those made today (and which I admittedly may have encouraged at one point) to be beyond the realm of decency I'll delete them. 
The second thing I'm going to do is end the practice of anonymous comments.  This means you'll either have to have a google account or use OpenID.  In any case, from now on there will need to be a form of registration to make comments.
And as a guide to our conversation let me offer a passage of scripture -- from the letter to the Ephesians.  I'm using a new translation, the Common English Bible.
Don't let any foul words come out of your mouth.  Only say what is helpful when it is needed for building up the community so that it benefits those who hear what you say.  Don't make the Holy Spirit of God unhappy -- you were sealed by him for the day of redemption.  Put aside all bitterness, losing your temper, anger, shouting, and slander, along with every other evil.  Be kind, compassionate, and forgiving to each other, in the same way God forgave you in Christ.  (Ephesians 4:29-32).

I have been hesitant to write about the impending plans by a Florida fundamentalist pastor (I'm not sure I really want to dignify this man with such a title) to burn copies of the Koran (Quran) on Saturday.  Saturday is, by the way, the 9th anniversary of the 9-11 attacks on the WTC and Pentagon. 
First of all, burning books of any kind is simply bad taste.  Second, at a time when the United States has troops engaged in combat in one Muslim country, and thousands more still present in a supporting role in another, such antics, as General David Petraeus noted, puts troops in danger -- but then again so do statements by politicians like Newt Gingrich and preachers like Franklin Graham.  If you want to bring these wars to a successful close, incendiary language about the people living in these war zones doesn't help the cause.
I think it's clear that this guy has few supporters.  He's the anti-Muslim equivalent of Topeka's Fred Phelps, and as such he seems to be an embarrassment even to the most Islamaphobic fundamentalists. 
So, instead of burning Korans, Bibles, or any other book, maybe we could actually do some reading of them to see what is found there!  We might not like everything we read in the Koran, but I guarantee that you won't like everything you read in the Bible. 
Mr. Jones, just put the light out and go away, would you please!

Later this week a group of Christians will gather in Raleigh, NC to celebrate a Big Tent Theology.  Alas, I can't be there, but Bruce Epperly has been laying out what for him is a "Good Enough Theology."  To this point he has explored the Quaker, Pentecostal, and Evangelical contribution to the development of this "Good Enough Theology."  In addressing the question of the fundamentalist contribution, he addresses their concern for sound doctrine and attending to scripture.  In this piece, Bruce reminds us that we needn't be absolutists to be concerned about such things.  I invite you to engage the question that Bruce has raised.


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A Good Enough Theology: Can We Learn From Fundamentalist Christians?
Bruce Epperly

Can progressives learn anything from fundamentalists? Most of us progressives would answer in the “doubtful” category or with a strident “no.” We take pretty much opposite positions on homosexuality and marriage equality, science, politics, scripture, and the quest for certainty. Fundamentalists claim certainty; we live in a world of possibility and probability. Fundamentalists live in a world of absolutes; we live in a world of change and relativity. Yet, a good enough theology, a theology with stature, is open to truth and healing wherever they are found – in the sanctuary and the laboratory, in prayer and pharmaceuticals, in Christianity and other religious traditions, in ancient wisdom and emerging faith, in the old time religion and open-source faith. Still, while we are in a very different place theologically, there may be a couple things we can learn from the faith of fundamentalists.
First, a clarification: fundamentalists are not as fundamentalist as they think! Fundamentalists, in spite of their, affirmations to the contrary, actually do interpret the bible – they interpret it through the lens of infallibility. Fundamentalists, in spite of their protests, also pick and choose in their interpretations and their judgments about scriptural authority. Like liberals, they believe that not all scripture passages are created equal. For example, fundamentalists may enjoy a good Easter ham and fundamentalist women cut their hair. Fundamentalists often work hard to minimize the universalism of some of the apostle Paul’s affirmations, interpreting them to apply only to believers, rather than following a literal reading of the text. So, fundamentalists and progressives begin on common ground – they both interpret scripture and emphasize certain passages – from a particular perspective not necessarily reducible to what can be found in the words of scripture. We all have “theological locations” and it is important to be aware of them rather than absolutize them.
Still, fundamentalists take truth and doctrine seriously and invite progressives to do so as well. Fundamentalists are clear about the importance of “sound doctrine” in shaping the Christian life. If we relegate doctrine to a matter of indifference, our faith will suffer. Sadly, in their quest for a theological big tent, many moderate and progressive Christians have downplayed the importance of doctrine and theological reflection.
The fundamentalist reminds us that theological reflection is important, and in this we can learn from them. We don’t need to be absolutists to take doctrine seriously. We can even posit a variety of doctrinal possibilities as elements in a holistic theology, even if some traditional doctrines are a matter of theological indifference to us. With Whitehead, I believe that our deeply held convictions about reality shape our character. Good theology shapes who we are and what is important to us, behaviorally and politically.
Fundamentalists remind us of the importance of sharing our beliefs with boldness in the marketplace of ideas. While progressives may take issue with what they perceive to be their sense of certainty and their strident tone, progressives can learn from fundamentalists that sharing the faith matters. Being a Christian – or a certain kind of Christian – is not a matter of indifference; it may be a matter of life and death, of meaning and meaninglessness in this life and the next. Progressives can recognize that what we believe about God truly matters and that we need to make known in the marketplace of ideas our theological affirmations about grace, revelation, salvation, healing, and God. We can be passionate about sharing our faith and theological vision, without arrogance.
Perhaps we all need a good dose of wonder (see Psalm 8): in the context of a 100 billion galaxy universe, each galaxy with a billion stars and a fourteen billion year cosmic journey, we can proclaim “how great Thou art” and do our best to live humbly and lovingly.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Hly Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life  . His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected 2009 Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy.
His most recent book is  From a Mustard Seed: Enlivening Worship and Music in the Small Church, written with Daryl Hollinger.

As the nation observes Labor Day, which has come to mean for many people one last summer fling before school begins, it is useful to reflect on its meaning and purpose.  Labor Day has been officially observed since September 1894, interestingly, in response to the horrific end to the Pullman Strike that threatened to engulf the country in labor strife.  Thus, it became a day connected with the labor unions and the search for living wages and safe work environments.  
As we observe Labor Day this year, we do so knowing that the unemployment rate stands just below 10% nationwide and at 13% here in Michigan, and that many Americans have been without jobs for longer than they ever expected.  Thus, this year's observance carries with it a cloud that won't easily or quickly dissipate.  
That said, it is appropriate to stop for a moment and reflect upon what it means to have meaningful work, and to consider the role that work/labor plays in our lives.  We often use the word "vocation" to define our labor, and this word is connected to a "Call."  In my field of endeavor, we often use the word "call" to define our work.  Indeed, clergy often distinguish call from job.  I don't have a "job" I have a "call."  But, since I derive my income from this "call," so it is employment, and this a job.
As I was thinking about what to write, my thoughts went to theologian Jurgen Moltmann, who has given considerable thought and attention to this issue.  So, I went to the shelf and picked up his book On Human Dignity, which has a chapter entitled:  "The Right to Meaningful Work."  It is a useful reflection, which I can't summarize here, but I think it's helpful to consider the contrast between the ancient Greek view and that of the Hebrew understanding.
Moltmann notes: "In the ancient world, work meant the toil and burden of maintaining and reproducing life.  Life had to be wrested from the unordered, hostile environment.  Yet this struggle itself was not true life but only its precondition.  In his or her work a person was still enslaved; only the result of a person's work could be called freedom.  Work could thus be seen as the process of mediation between the human being and world, between civilization and nature -- necessary, to be sure, but not in itself meaningful (p. 38).
He goes on to point out that things like freedom, life, and human worth weren't to be found in work, but beyond it.  Therefore, it "was not fitting for the free citizen himself to work.  The lower cycle of life was delegated to slaves, serfs, and women.  Work had no permanence; work has no accomplishment, for it was not a virtuous activity" (p. 39).  Thus, the Greeks had few gods/goddesses that represented work or labor-- Hephaestus and patrons of the crafts being the only ones.  Instead, the life of the gods was one of leisure.  Virtue and work were separate, which makes sense in a slave-holding society.  Work has no meaning, beyond providing the foundation for consumption.  Thus, "work makes one unfree, and whoever is unfree is condemned to work."
But if this was the common view in the ancient world, the biblical view is different, which speaks directly of the work of God.   
Certainly, Yahweh is no subordinated worker-god.  Rather, he is the slave-freeing God, as the first commandment states, " who led you out of the house of bondage."  Therefore, he is the Creator who calls the nonexistent into being.  Everything visible and invisible is "the work of his hands."  To be sure, the exclusive theological use of the word barah sets the creative work of God apart from all possible human works, but in and through their work in the world human beings can and should correspond to the creative activity of God, from which the world emerged:  (Exodus 20:9-11).  [p. 40]. Moltmann notes that in the Old Testament or Hebrew Bible, work is linked with rest (Sabbath).  Work is meaningful because it is limited by the goal of rest and enjoyment of life.  One isn't the precondition to the other, but they are inextricably linked, and all is rooted in the work of God (who rested on the 7th day).
With this brief reflection, I invite you to reflect yourselves on the meaning of labor as participation in the work of God. 

This morning, in place of the Pastoral Prayer, I chose to share this Prayer for those who Labor.  The prayer comes from Chalice Worship. 


God of the rough-worn hands, as we honor workers this day,
let us not forget those whose work is without honor:

those homemakers who watch over children and homes
but are not recognized as workers because they are not paid;
those who are forced out of jobs by corporate changes,
those forced into early retirement,
those who are denied employment because of their age;
those who live far from home,
struggling to save a bit of money to sent to their loved ones;
those who must work illegally in order to survive;
those who lose jobs because employers use undocumented labor.

Christ of the aching back, you worked the rough wood,
you walked the long and dusty roads,
you know the bitter thirst of the poor.
Let our thirst become a passion for justice.
Help us to work toward transformation of economic policies
that allow only a few nations to hoard the world's wealth,
policies that pay women as only half a person or less,
policies that do not recognize the worth of labor exactly without pay

Spirit of creative power, move among us this day.
Heal the wounds we carry because of jobs we hate but must do,
jobs we want but cannot have.
Heal all those who labor to survive.
Renew in us our sense of vocation.
Help us discern your Presence in even the lowliest tasks we face. Amen  (Chalice Worship, Colbert Cartwright & O.I. Harrison, eds, Chalice Press, 1997, p. 176)

Luke 14:25-33

It makes sense to count the costs when deciding to make a big purchase such as a home or a car. Although it would seem prudent to sit down and “work the pencil,” not everyone takes the time to do so. One of the reasons why our nation is in the economic mess it’s in, is that too many people bought houses they couldn’t afford. Many were sucked in by suggestions that ours is an “ownership society,” offers of easy money, and promises that property was going to appreciate year after year, without end. In places like Southern California, Florida, and Las Vegas, everyone wanted to get on the band wagon as housing values increased at an annual rate of 25% to 45%. Many made a fortune, but as we’ve seen many more have lost untold millions. I wonder about how many people counted the cost before they bought?
There was a war that our nation entered into In 2003. We were told that this war would be over quickly and with little sacrifice on our part. Just months after the invasion began, the President announced with much fanfare the end of “major combat operations.” As you may know, just this past week, another President, with much less fanfare, declared an end to combat operations in Iraq -- seven years later, with many lives lost and hundreds of billions of dollars spent. With this announcement a chapter in what is one of the longest wars in American history came to a close. Those who planned this operation might have benefited from reading Luke 14.
When Jesus spoke of counting costs he used analogies that ring as true today as they did two millennia ago. But, Jesus was less concerned about building projects or battle plans than he was about the spiritual costs of being a disciple. At the heart of this passage is the question: What does the Lord require of me?
For those of us who have grown up in a Euro-American context, being a disciple of Christ isn’t all that difficult. For many in our nation, being a Christian means little more than checking a box on a survey or census. That’s why 80% of Americans say they’re Christians, but only about 30% attend church regularly. Since the time of Constantine, we’ve assumed that if you live in Western society, you’re a Christian. Baptism became for many little more than a sign of one’s citizenship. But is that what Jesus has in mind for us?
1. What are the Costs?
Sometimes Jesus can beat around the bush, and at other times he hits you across the forehead with a 2 x4. His parables sometimes enlighten, but at other times muddy the waters. In this passage, Jesus leaves little doubt as to his intentions, and what he says should make us all a little bit uncomfortable.
The message is simple: If you want to be my disciple then you’d better count the costs. It’s an “all or nothing” proposition. If you’re not ready to jump in with both feet, and stay with the journey until the very end, then perhaps its best to stay behind rather than suffer the embarrassment of starting out on the journey and having to turn back before you get to the end.
It’s important to remember, Jesus says to us, if you decide to be my follower, it can cost you your family, friendships, jobs, and your place in society. And that’s the way it was up until Constantine made Christianity a legal religion in the Roman Empire and granted it most favored status. No sooner did this take place than things changed for the church. Not only did it become beneficial to be a Christian, but your life might depend upon it. And so, the churches filled up, but the fervor of the people began to decline. Converts in countries where Christianity still isn’t the majority religion, understand much better than us the truth in Jesus’ statement about the costs involved in being a disciple.
Of course, the words of Jesus remained part of the Christian story, and so even as it became easier to join the church, some in the church, like St. Anthony, decided to head for the desert and live an ascetic life in a cave. Monasticism developed in the church to give the most devout a way of giving up everything to follow Jesus, and over time, they became honored as saints. People treated them with great honor, asking these holy people to pray for them, so that they could continue living as they wanted, with a clear conscience. But is this word that we hear in Luke’s gospel meant only for ascetics like Anthony and Julian of Norwich? Or did Jesus direct this word to us?
What does it mean to take up the cross? What does it mean to sing that old gospel song: “I have decided to follow Jesus – no turning back, no turning back?” Even though the world lies behind me and the cross goes before me, even though none go with me, I have decided to follow Jesus? (Chalice Hymnal 344).
2. What do you mean?  Hate My Family! 
Before he gets to his parable about counting costs, Jesus raises the biggest obstacle to faith – our families. The question that millions of people have faced, down through the centuries, concerns their responsibility to their families. Although we hear preachers and pundits talk about the importance of family values, with Christianity being the supposed foundation for healthy families, we don’t find much support for this view in the gospels.
If Christianity is all about the family, then what do we make of Jesus’ statement: Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.If you’re like me, you probably wish Luke would have left this statement out of his gospel. It seems so harsh and unrealistic, which is why some translations try to soften the blow. Consider the way the Good News Bible puts it: "Those who come to me cannot be my disciple unless they love me more than they love father and mother, wife and children, etc." That doesn’t sound so bad. Surely I can love God more than my family and my friends. Besides, Jesus was known to exaggerate things. Still, the more formal translations stick to the word hate to describe the contrast between our loyalty to God and our loyalty to family. This usage has to make us feel uncomfortable.
If we assume, as I do, that the core message of Jesus is one of hospitality, generosity, and love of God and neighbor, then surely he doesn’t mean for us to loathe and despise our families. Hopefully, this is hyperbole and exaggeration, but even if it is, as the Lord’s Prayer reminds us, our ultimate allegiance is to the kingdom of God, a kingdom that is defined by the cross. If we’re to follow Jesus then we must give over everything to him. And as Dietrich Bonhoeffer points out, it’s a decision that we must make for ourselves. But, “out of fear of such aloneness, a human being seeks safety in the people and things around them. Individuals suddenly discover all their responsibilities and cling to them.” (Discipleship, DBW 4, Fortress, 92). When Jesus calls us to be his disciples, he breaks these bonds, and asks us to trust him and follow him, without ever looking back. And as Bonhoeffer also writes: “No one can follow Christ without recognizing and affirming that this break is already complete. Not the caprice of a self-willed life, but Christ himself leads the disciple to such a break” (p. 93). What needs to be acknowledged here is that when Christ breaks these bonds of family, tribe, and nation, it affects not only the one receiving the call, but also everyone in the family and nation as well.
3. Making Tough Choices
What I hear Jesus saying to us this morning is this: Being a Christian involves making choices, and when it comes to making choices, I’m cautious by nature. Just ask Cheryl. She hates to go grocery shopping with me, because I have to analyze all the product codes so we get the best deal. To do otherwise, just wouldn't be prudent!
So, what does it cost us to be a disciple of Jesus? For St. Francis it meant becoming a fool for Christ. For Julian of Norwich it meant taking up residence in a small room attached to a medieval church. For Mother Teresa it meant serving the lepers of Calcutta. And for Dietrich Bonhoeffer it meant returning home to Germany from the safety of a teaching post at Union Theological Seminary to take up the struggle against Nazi tyranny. Bonhoeffer never saw himself being a martyr nor did Mother Teresa see herself as a saint. Indeed, in letters released after her death, she confessed to experiencing spiritual desolation and a sense that God had abandoned her. Despite questions about the wisdom of their choices, they remained true to their calling. As a result, the witness of these women and men have been an inspiration to many. But, if all we do is live vicariously through their stories, then is this enough?
If we are to heed this call to count the costs of discipleship, then we will be wary of those who turn the beatitudes of Jesus into the “Be Happy Attitudes” and the cross of Jesus into a mere piece of jewelry.

Preached by:
Dr. Robert D. Cornwall
Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
Troy, Michigan
September 5, 2010
15th Sunday after Pentecost

This was sent to me by a friend -- too good not to pass on.  One of the great movie themes of all times.

EINSTEIN’S GOD: Conversations about Science and the Human Spirit. By Krista Tippett. Penguin Books 2010. 286 pp.
The intersection where faith and science meet can be a place of fruitful and enlightening discussion or a place of misinformed vitriol. Too often it comes down to a choice –either science or faith, but not both. And there are “evangelists” for such a choice on both sides of the issue, but there are also many who want to move past the “culture war” view that insists that if one perspective is correct then the other must be in error. Krista Tippett’s radio program Speaking of Faith, which can be found on public radio has been one of the most effective forums for this conversation to take place. Although science and faith aren’t the only issues that are featured on her show, her insightful interviews have proven to be a crucial venue in moving the discussion in more productive directions.
Einstein’s God, which contains a selection of her interviews, framed by an introduction that sets the conversation in context, is Tippett’s most recent book, following up on her 2007 book that carried the title Speaking of Faith, and which was much more autobiographical than her current book (though Tippett does use her own story and experiences to engage the guests in this book as well. Having deeply enjoyed the earlier book (having reviewed it here), I was pleased to have the opportunity to read this book.
In Einstein’s God, Einstein himself only makes an occasional appearance – though he is the focus of the opening chapter, which features an interview with physicists Freeman Dyson and Paul Davies. Each of the conversations that she undertakes in the book, engage people who, with only a few exceptions, practitioners of science, but who have some sense of the relationship between the scientific enterprise and what Tippett terms the “human spirit.” The use of this phrase allows her to expand the conversation beyond simply matters of the faith-science relationship, for not all of her conversation partners in the book would describe themselves as religious or as people of faith. They represent both the hard sciences (physics and biology) as well as the softer sciences (psychology).
Tippett, who is an intuitive interviewer, introduces the book with a very germane statement: “The science-religion ‘debate’ is unwinnable.” That is, we will be led astray as long as we insist that “science and religion speak the same language, or draw the same conclusions.” It is not a matter of competing to see which is right or more relevant, because such a debate will not move the conversation forward (p. 1). Tippett notes that her own upbringing as the grandchild of a fire and brimstone preacher, who in her words “did not know enough about science to be against it,” helps frame her own quest to try to know enough to gain an understanding of the issues. In the course of her discussions, a number of which are contained in this book, she can conclude that taken together, “they dispel the myth of the clash of civilizations between science and religion, indeed between spirit and reason, that we’ve accepted as the backdrop for so many tensions of the modern West” (p. 3). These conversations are important now more than perhaps ever, as we enter what appears to be another season of anti-intellectualism in America, where distrust of science can be a fruitful political or religious tool.
The title Einstein’s God is taken from the first of the discussions Tippett includes in her collection, a conversation with Freeman Dyson, a theoretical physicist, and Paul Davies, an astrophysicist. Einstein is well known for us use of terms such as God and creation, which has led some to claim him as a believer, but Einstein isn’t so easily pegged. Nonetheless, Einstein didn’t close the doors to God. The title, however, shouldn’t lead unsuspecting readers to conclude that this is a book about Einstein and his religious views. It is instead, as already noted, just one part of a broader discussion, that seeks to overcome the notion that there is a choice to be made between God and science. Near the end of the introduction, Tippett reflects on a concern expressed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, as he spent time in his prison cell reading physics. She writes that “he decried a stunted religious imagination that would consign God to the borders where scientific knowledge gives out” (p. 13). It is not enough to live with one foot on earth and one in heaven; we must live with both feet on the earth, so that those who are believers in God need not be afraid of what can be learned through reason.
In the course of ten chapters, readers engage with authors, scientists, medical doctors, theologians, and psychologists. Some of these chapters I can remember listening to, especially the first – the conversation with Dyson and Davies and the last with John Polkinghorne, as well as the conversation about Darwin and evolution with James Moore. It is perhaps fitting that a book with the title Einstein’s Brain would begin and end with conversations with physicists. But physicists and biographers of Darwin aren’t the only conversation partners. She talks about biology with Sherwin Nuland, medicine with Mehmet Oz, contentment with the limits of science and religion with Hindu physicist V.V. Raman, mathematics with Joanna Levin, revenge and forgiveness with psychologist Michael McCullough, stress with immunologist Esther Sternberg, and depression with Andrew Solomon, Parker Palmer, and Anita Barrows. Some of the authors, such as the Hindu physicist V.V. Raman and the physicist/theologian Polkinghorne are very open about their desire to find ways of bringing faith and science into conversation, having a stake in both. Others, including Janna Levin do not describe themselves as people of faith, but they understand the importance of the conversation. The breadth and variety of these conversations should provide the interested reader insightful introductions to the areas of interest. As a reader, certain subjects proved more interesting to me, others might catch the interest of others.
I found the discussion of Einstein provocative and helpful, found confirmation of my understandings of Darwin in Moore’s interview, and found again enjoyed Polkinghorne’s creative engagement with both science and theology, including Polkinghorne’s analogy between the fact that light can be understood as both wave or particle depending on the question posed and the divinity and humanity of Jesus – depending on the way the question regarding Jesus is formulated. Personally, I also found quite fascinating Michael McCullough’s discussion of revenge and forgiveness, in which he suggests that both responses have a biological/evolutionary basis, and that if we’re to understand the human capacity to forgive, we must also understand the human desire for revenge. This desire for revenge is rooted in the mechanism that humans used, before complex societies developed with their prisons and such to keep order and to provide protection. Thus thee “mechanism that individuals relied upon to protect themselves and to protect their loved ones and to protect their property was fear of retaliation” (p. 177). It is quite obvious that this mechanism is still deeply ingrained in human society, especially when people feel that the system no longer functions to protect them. Forgiveness, on the other hand, is a process that seems to be furthered as one gets to know the other – relationship is key. There must be a feeling of safety. We forgive those we feel safe around.
It would be appropriate to make mention of Einstein’s religious views, for his statement that “God doesn’t play dice” has led many to claim him as a believer. Tippett notes that Einstein was inclined toward a cosmic religious sense that he discerned in religious traditions and individuals such as Buddhism, some of the prophets and psalms of the Hebrew Bible, and in Francis of Assisi (p. 33). Or, as Paul Davies notes that while Einstein didn’t believe in a personal God, “he did believe in a rational world order, and he expressed what he sometimes called a ‘cosmic religious feeling,’ a sense of awe, a sense of admiration at the intellectual ingenuity of the universe” (p. 34). And he would use religious terms to describe that, but he wasn’t in any sense an orthodox practitioner of religion. To learn more, of course, you’ll want to consult the interviews.
Each reader will find their own favorites, but even if you haven’t listened to an episode of Krista Tippett’s radio program, readers should find this fruitful reading. They might also find chapters that do not intrigue them nearly as much. I must admit that discussion of mathematics isn’t my favorite topic, but even here there is something worth taking away from the discussion. The format is effective because Tippett never takes an adversarial role, but instead seeks to elicit from the conversation partner an understandable description of the issue at hand. Sometimes the topics can be rather rarefied – this is especially true of the topics under discussion here, but you need not be an expert or even all that well informed to enjoy the conversation. Again Krista Tippett has provided us with a book that is a joy to read.

Jeremiah 18:1-11

Philemon 1-21
Luke 14:25-33

Transformation through Letting Go
To walk with God requires much more of us than we’re willing to relinquish – that may be control of our destiny or control of our possessions. We say we love God, we may even say that we love God more than anything or anyone else, but when we’re asked for proof, it’s not easy to produce it. As I contemplate the texts for this week’s lectionary texts, I can’t help but think about the Glenn Beck Rally this past Saturday. The controversial radio host wants to portray himself as a prophet calling the people back to righteousness – like Jeremiah for instance – but the message is vacuous because it doesn’t demand anything of anyone. It is simply a call to move back into the past when middle class whites (like me) were in control – as in the 1950s when segregation remained legal and whites controlled everything.
In Jeremiah’s message, God’s vision comes to him through the potter. God can take the spoiled vessel and make something new of it. Thus, if God sees that the nation is doing evil, then God can pull it down and start over. If it is doing that which is right, then God will lift it up – but if God senses a change, God might change God’s mind. The choice is ours – do we want to listen for God’s voice, and do what is right? Or do we want to control our destiny and end up doing that which is evil? God will respond accordingly. As the debate over the Beck rally reminds us – the nature of good and evil is often in the eye of the beholder. Ultimately God alone will judge.
In Paul’s brief letter to Philemon we witness a most remarkable conversation, between the great church planting apostle, now imprisoned, writing to a leader of an otherwise undisclosed church community, commending Philemon for his service and love for the saints of God, and then making a request of him. With Paul is a young man named Onesimus, who was a slave owned by Philemon. It is easy for us to glide across this reality – but from the very beginning there have been slave-owning Christians (though ancient slavery was very different from the race-based slavery of ante-bellum America). Onesimus had run off to Paul, perhaps seeking asylum, and in the course of time, Onesimus has become not only a changed person, but a person beloved by Paul – a child in the faith. Paul wants to keep Onesimus with him, but he wants Philemon to release his slave into Paul’s care – voluntarily and not by coercion.
What is interesting about the letter is that while Paul never comes out and rejects slavery he changes the dynamic. He asks Philemon to receive Onesimus back, not as a slave, but as a beloved brother. The one who once was useless has now become useful – because he is a brother in Christ. Could it be that Paul is encouraging Philemon to look at the world in a different way, one where a brother can’t enslave a brother or sister in Christ? By letting go, both Onesimus and Philemon would be transformed.
We finally come to the gospel lesson – one of the lectionary texts that has long proven to be vexing to the preacher. It is an extremely counter-cultural text, in that it makes an almost impossible demand. If you want to love me, hate your parents and siblings. In Matthew’s gospel it is a more palatable – “love me more than” (Matthew 10:37-39). But here it’s hate versus love. You can’t do both. To be a disciple means letting go of everything – including one’s possessions. That’s why Jesus speaks of cost counting – if you’re not prepared to go all the way and complete the task, then don’t start the journey. Be like the builder of the tower who first checks to see if there are sufficient funds and resources to build the tower, before starting, for who wants to suffer the embarrassment of a half-finished tower (not that there haven’t been plenty of examples of such folly!). And who would go to war, knowing that the odds were so stacked against them that there was no way to win. If the odds are against you, then you had best make peace.
One of the realities that emerges from reading scripture is that one discovers that the gospel isn’t a message of cultural accommodation. The demands are difficult – like the demand to let go of all your possessions and to hate your family if you want to be a disciple. Are we ready, especially we who live in the comforts of the United States -- where even in the midst of great economic troubles, the difficulties we experience are so few in comparison to those experienced by others around the world – ready to truly few the call of God on our lives? In posing this question, I must confess my own reticence, for I love my creaturely comforts and my family life too much to really let go, and yet, I hear Jeremiah’s warning and Paul’s word of hope as I ponder the question. The promise is this – by letting go, we can experience transformation.
Meditation to be found also at [D]mergent.

I didn't watch the President's speech from the Oval Office the other evening.  I knew what he would say, and I knew I stood behind him (in some ways I feel like the last man standing in this regard).  I knew that he couldn't win for losing, that the Right would go after him because he had opposed the war in Iraq (as well as the surge) and the left would go after him because he didn't pull all the troops out the moment that he took office -- and now because he commended his predecessor -- not because they agreed on the war, but because the former President was a man who loved his country and is a patriot.  During President Bush's term I admit taking swings at him, but he's no longer President and to his credit he's pretty much stayed out of the way.
Although my ideology tends toward the left, my instincts have always been centrist.  I grew up Republican and voted for Gerald Ford in my first opportunity to vote.  I opposed entrance into both of the current wars -- writing to my Senators at the time to register my views -- but I also believe that its time to move on -- or as the President said, turn the page.  
One of the most disheartening thing about the current political climate is the fresh polarization.  We're witnessing a civil war within the Republican Party, which is being orchestrated by a far right fringe that is reminiscent of the John Birch Society, and whose voices are people like Rush, Sean, and Glenn.  It is important to note that the central influence on Glenn Beck is a shadowy character named Cleon Skousen, a Mormon who is so extreme that the LDS establishment distanced itself from him.  Skousen had connections with the John Birch Society and proffered conspiracy theories, many of which Beck now spreads, that the conservative establishment leaders like William Buckley feared would taint the conservative movement.   On the left, you have a dispirited Democratic Party unhappy with its President because he's made too many compromises in the hope that he could achieve his goals.  One of the fallacies that lies behind the supposed opposition to the recently passed health care bill is that 60% oppose health care reform.  Yes, many do, but many opposed this bill because it didn't go far enough.  So, we have extremes defining the political moment.
So, yes, it is time to turn the page, to get realistic so that we can solve important problems.  We'll not all agree.  But, let's stop the conspiracy theories of left and right, and get busy dealing with the issues that trouble the nation and the world.
I appreciate a piece written today by Allan Bevere.  Allan would agree with me that I'm much more liberal and more partisan than is he.  I'm not a political independent, I am a Democrat.  And yet we agree that its time to put aside the bickering and get to work.  Allan did listen to the President and offers an appreciative statement in that regard.  He's disheartened by the dismissals left and right of the President's statement, and then points us to another President who was criticized on all sides, but whom history has lifted up as a man of honor and wisdom -- Abraham Lincoln.  As the war ended, and the nation began turning its focus to rebuilding after the devastation of four years of war, Lincoln said:
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.
Even then partisans didn't want to see this happen.  Conspirators moved to murder the President, and succeeded, removing the wise hand from the tiller.  Radicals from the north sought to punish the south in ways that led to a hundred years of segregation and resistance to change.  Let us heed the words of that wise President, whose life was cut short by violence, but whose voice still rings its clarion call to finish the work we're on.

I posted an earlier post asking the question -- what is Liberation Theology?  The answer to the question is important, because it is being misused by Glenn Beck for political purposes.  As we ponder the question, which isn't just about President Obama, but about how we understand the Christian faith, I want to recommend an excellent Huffngton Post article by Jesuit theologian James Martin, SJ that carries the title:  Glenn Beck vs. Christ the Liberator."
Before getting to the question of Liberation Theology, I must confess my discomfort in even giving attention to Glenn Beck, who is little more than a snake-oil salesman and panderer in cheap conspiracy theories that hearken back to the John Birch Society, a group of crazed right wingers that the Republican Party beat back in the 1960s, and which is making a comeback in a new guise.  That said, it is important that we try to understand the nature and purpose of Liberation Theology.  Martin gives an excellent discussion of this movement that emerged out of a Latin American context in the 1950s and 1960s.  He writes:
A little history: Liberation theology began in Latin America in the 1950s and 1960s, and was later developed more systematically by Catholic theologians who reflected on experiences of the poor there. The term was coined by the Rev. Gustavo Gutierrez, a Peruvian priest, in his landmark book A Theology of Liberation, published in 1971. Briefly put, liberation theology (there are many definitions, by the way) is a Gospel-based critique of the world through the eyes of the poor. Contrary to what Beck implies, the liberation theologian doesn't see himself or herself as victim; rather proponents call us to see how the poor are marginalized by society, to work among them, to advocate on their behalf, and to help them advocate for themselves. It has nothing to do with seeing yourself as victim. It is, like all authentic Christian practices, "other-directed."
It also sees the figure of Jesus Christ as the "liberator," who frees people from bondage and slavery of all kinds. So, as he does in the Gospels, Christ not only frees people from sin and illness, Christ also desires to free our fellow human beings from the social structures that keep them impoverished. This is this kind of "liberation" that is held out. Liberation theologians meditate on Gospel stories that show Christ upending the social structures of the day, in order to bring more--uh oh--social justice into the world. Christians are also asked to make, as the saying goes, a "preferential option for the poor." Since Beck, who infamously told Christians to run from churches that preached social justice, wants to call us back to God (I do find it ironic that evangelicals who consider Mormonism a cult seem to ignore Beck's off-beat version of Mormonism), and wants to tell us that Jesus didn't preach social justice, but only salvation, I want to leave you with the words of the Savior himself -- Jesus the Christ.  
 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.He has sent me to proclaim release to the captivesand recovery of sight to the blind,to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.20And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’  (Luke 4:16-21 NRSV)

I can't give you a complete answer to this question in this posting, but I think it's an important question to be raised.  Since Glenn Beck, who is himself a Mormon (and perhaps not the best informed one at that) and not a trained theologian (his post HS education consists of one religion class at Yale), has declared that Barack Obama is captive to "liberation theology," which is all about "victims/oppressors" and condemned by the Pope, "liberation theology" is back in the news.
I think it's important to note that there is not just one liberation theology.  There are many -- Latin-American, Black, Feminist, Asian, Palestinian, and more.  Aspects of liberation theology have always been with us, throughout history, for it is a theology that seeks to transform the world.  This is something that those in power do not like.  It is interesting that the Pope's condemnation of this theology has been brought into the discussion, for the reason why John Paul II and his successor have condemned this theology is because it challenges their power.  It includes a call for the church to be returned to the people.   Luther also got into trouble with the Pope over this issue -- of course, when the Peasants rose up against their oppressors, Luther sided with the authorities and supported the slaughter of people who thought he was on their side.  But all of this is simply a way to get us to a definition (and those can be many).
I simply want to start the discussion by turning to Gustavo Gutierrez, a Peruvian Catholic Theologian, whose book A Theology of Liberation, is considered to be the classic statement on liberation theology.  The quotation I'm about to give comes from 1973 edition.
It is for all these reasons that the theology of liberation offers us not so much a new theme for reflection as a new way to do theology.  Theology as a critical reflection on historical praxis is a liberating theology, a theology of the liberating transformation of mankind and also therefore that part of mankind--gathered into ecclesia -- which openly confesses Christ.  This is a theology which does not stop with reflecting on the world, but rather tries to be part of the process through which the world is transformed.  It is a theology which is open -- in the protest against trampled human dignity, in the struggle against the plunder of the vast majority of people, in liberating love, and in the building of a new, just, and fraternal society  -- to the gift of the Kingdom of God.  (p. 15)  Glen Beck says that Jesus just came to save our souls, nothing more, nothing less.  That may be the message of the Book of Mormon (I've not read it, so I don't know), but its not the message of the Gospel.  Jesus consistently talks about living a new way of life that transforms the world in which we live.  Evangelism is more than simply rescuing the perishing, it is offering a vision of a new way of living, which Jesus calls the Kingdom of God.  Liberation Theology was born in Latin America out of frustration with a church that turned a blind eye to the abuses perpetrated against the people by dictatorships and a small cadre of wealthy land owners.  When Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador realized what was happening to his people, he woke up to his responsibility and began to speak in opposition.  As a result, death squads aligned with the government (a US supported government) murdered him as he said Mass.  This is what Liberation Theology is all about.  It involves speaking up for those who are voiceless, with a view to a new world of peace and justice.  It is a theology more focused on "orthopraxis" (right living/practice) than "orthodoxy" (right doctrine).  Indeed, I do believe that at its heart is the dictum -- love God and love your neighbor.

 On May 1, 2003, more than seven years ago, President George W. Bush landed on an aircraft carrier in the Pacific with much fanfare, wearing the flight suit of a Navy pilot.  With the infamous "Mission Accomplished" banner behind him, the President of the United States, in triumphalist tones declared an end to "major combat operations" in Iraq.  He commended the military and his war planners for their work in swiftly bringing down the enemy in Iraq, as well as destroying the Taliban in Afghanistan. 
President Bush spoke of the noble cause that the Armed Forces had engaged in and commended them for their bold and swift victory (you may remember Donald Rumsfeld announcing the beginning of the war in terms of "shock and awe."
In this battle, we have fought for the cause of liberty and for the peace of the world. Our nation and our coalition are proud of this accomplishment. Yet it is you, the members of the United States military, who achieved it. Your courage, your willingness to face danger for your country and for each other made this day possible. Because of you, our nation is more secure. Because of you, the tyrant has fallen and Iraq is free. Operation Iraqi Freedom was carried out with a combination of precision, speed and boldness the enemy did not expect and the world had not seen before. 

From distant bases or ships at sea, we sent planes and missiles that could destroy an enemy division, or strike a single bunker. Marines and soldiers charged to Baghdad across 350 miles of hostile ground, in one of the swiftest advances of heavy arms in history. You have shown the world the skill and might of the American armed forces. The way forward might be difficult, but the people of Iraq were free from tyranny and Al Qaeda was deprived of its possible source of nuclear weapons (the President seems to have forgotten that a rather unstable Pakistan did have such weapons).  He went on to couch this in terms of the War on Terror that began on September 11th, thereby justifying the war in terms of a response to that attack.
But as we know, despite the military prowess of the US Armed Forces and their allies, the President's vision proved to be an illusion.  Saddam Husein might have been defeated and executed, and the Taliban might have been driven from power in Afghanistan, but the road to recovery still remains daunting in Iraq, which remains without a government, and as for Afghanistan, it faces a resurgent Taliban, which simply slipped across the border.
So, tonight another President, one who inherited two wars being fought in Muslim lands (even as 20% of Americans mistakenly believe he's Muslim and many more believing that he kowtows to Muslims), will announce the end of US combat operations.  50,000 troops remain in Iraq in training and support positions, much as 35,000 American troops remain in South Korea, nearly sixty years after that conflict ended with what amounts to a lengthy ceasefire.  Instead of delivering his message from the flight deck of a carrier, he will speak from the Oval Office.  There will be, I'm sure, commendations for the troops, who have been put in harms way.  He will note the sacrifices of those who have died in service to their country.  But it's unlikely that there will be the bravado that accompanied the last speech.  As the President noted earlier today, there will be no victory laps.  Of course, it's quite possible that few Americans will pay attention.  As one pundit noted earlier today on NPR, for most Americans, the Iraq War, the end to which President Obama originally based his campaign, has been forgotten by many Americans.  Afghanistan, a war zone that predates Iraq, and which got lost in the shuffle as we carelessly ventured into Iraq, remains as volatile today as it did nine years ago.  
I am glad that combat troops have returned home.  I'm just sad that we got caught up in another quagmire.  As for the Iraqi's -- they may no longer have Saddam, but they also are without electricity and security.  This isn't the vision laid out in that earlier Presidential speech, but its the reality that this current President must wrestle with.  In making these observations, I'm not placing blame on the ability of the to perform its job.  I don't want to get into a debate about the surge in 2007.  I'm lamenting our lack of vision as a nation that we have yet to realize that we cannot impose our will on the world by force.

What is a "Good Enough Theology?"  And in defining this notion of theology, where might evangelicalism fit?  One of the things about evangelicalism, is that it is a hard term to pin down.  I'm a graduate of Fuller Theological Seminary, an evangelical flagship institution, but Fuller is quite different from other institutions in the evangelical community, such as Dallas Seminary or even Trinity Evangelical Divinity School.  There are conservative evangelicals and there are those, like me, who want to retain our connection with evangelical sensibilities and would be comfortable with the designation "liberal evangelical."  Then there are those who see themselves as "evangelical liberals," a designation that Bruce Epperly, the author of this series of posts, is quite willing to affirm.  If you are a liberal or progressive Christian, what might you take away from the evangelical mindset that can broaden and deepen your faith?  That is the purpose of Bruce's essay today (and next week he'll be bringing in fundamentalism). 
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A Good Enough Theology: Evangelical Passion


Bruce Epperly

For the past two weeks, I have affirmed that a good enough theology has the stature to embrace diverse theological and spiritual approaches. We can compare theological wholeness, or stature, to a balanced diet – recognizing favorite foods, but also including side dishes that not only add flavor but vitamins and minerals. We need basic foods, good theology, but also good seasoning, liveliness. As a progressive Christian, I recognize that I need to include the heart as well as the mind, contemplation as well as action, passion as well as intellect, to have a complete and balanced theological diet. Last week, we reflected on the gifts of the Quakers: the vision of God’s presence in everyone, the importance of contemplative prayer, and commitment to action for justice based on recognizing God in every face. Today, I will reflect on the evangelical passion for a personal relationship with God and Jesus.
Recently, I had a conversation with a member of a liberal/progressive congregation. He commented that although his pastor is a good preacher, he virtually never mentions Jesus in his sermons. I have heard this observation/critique many times from liberal/progressive congregants. They hear Jesus occasionally mentioned as the example of a “way of life,” but seldom as a contemporary reality - a personal reality - that can be experienced in daily life. While liberals and progressives are rightly concerned about making an idol of Jesus, seeing Jesus solely in individualistic terms, or promoting a relationship with Jesus that leads to denigrating other religious traditions, I believe that the evangelical passion for Jesus, for a personal relationship with God, contributes energy and vitality that balances and adds life to intellectual and contemplative faith experiences.
Now, many liberals are uncertain about using the word “evangelical.” For them, it connotes social and theological conservatism, televangelists, and religious exclusivism. In contrast, I like the word “evangelical”: perhaps, because I was raised in a small town Baptist church, perhaps because it points to the importance of passion in faith, perhaps because it reminds us that we have good news to share. While labels can be limiting, I am particularly fond of descriptions such as “evangelical liberals” and “spirit-centered progressives.” I claim them both, and believe that there is good news to be found in embracing both evangelical and Pentecostal perspectives as part of a good enough theology. (We will speak of spirit-centered faith next week.)
Anne Lamott uses the term “Jesus-y” to describe her faith, and that works for me. As a progressive-oriented Christian, I claim that Jesus is alive, not just as the proponent of a way of life, but as a personal reality within the dancing (perichoresis) trinity of divine creativity and companionship within God, us, and the world. In unity of spirit with God, Jesus is as intimate as our next breath. Yet, Jesus’ intimacy invites us to a global spirituality. As our companion on a holy adventure, Jesus calls us to “follow” him in growing in wisdom and stature – in embracing God’s presence in the outcast, the diseased, the stranger, and the enemy. Jesus says “I am in the least of these” and you love me best by loving them. Jesus “walks with us and talks with us” in the midst of life’s challenges.
Loving in the spirit of Jesus means a lot of things, too, certainly it means hospitality and healing; it also means sharing “good news.” And, sharing good news involves both a “what” and a “how” – as progressives we can be as passionate about our faith as those who call themselves evangelicals because we have good news to share. Just look at Eric Elnes’ Phoenix Affirmations or the principles of progressive Christianity, articulated by the Center for Progressive Christianity; just look at my Holy Adventure (Upper Room, 2008) and you will discover that we have a faith we can share, a faith that changes lives. Claiming the following visionary affirmations can change your life and the lives of countless seekers:
God loves us and is present in our lives.God wants you to have abundant life.God rejoices in your creativity.God’s grace embraces, forgives, and makes whole.Jesus shows us a way to healing of mind, body, spirit, and the planet.Wherever there is truth, God is its source, in all its many forms.Jesus is your companion in life and death.God’s spirit is constantly inspiring us.God wants us to be partners in healing the world.
This list is far from exhaustive and you can make up your own progressive affirmations of faith; but one thing is clear, living with any one of these affirmations will change your life. These affirmations “preach, teach, and transform.” They call us to a full-voiced Hallelujah!
And, they call us to share our faith in the spirit of hospitality, healing, and respect – learning as well as proclaiming in the spirit of young Jesus at the temple. We can have passion, share good news, and also listen to the gifts of others as part of our affirmation of God’s global and graceful presence.
We progressives have a theology that transforms: if we can personalize this theology, experience it through contemplative practices, and embody it in socially-transforming actions, we can proclaim faith with passion. We can be evangelical as well as contemplative and theologically open-minded. A balanced theological diet of mind, heart, and hands gives life, vitality, and witness to the world, and us.



Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including  Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life. His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy.  His most recent book is From a Mustard Seed: Enlivening Worship and Music in the Small Church, written with Daryl Hollinger.

REAL PEACE, REAL SECURITY: The Challenges of Global Citizenship. By Sharon D. Welch. Foreword by William F. Schulz. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2008. xix +128 pp.
Peace and security – these are two states of being that most human beings desire. Yes, there are those who seem to relish conflict, or who glory in battle and destruction, but most people want to live in peace and security. The question that humans have wrestled with through the centuries concerns the means to this end, and to this point no one has been able to come up with a solution that resolves all conflicts and brings an end to all conflict and war. It has been assumed by many, perhaps a majority of people, that force is necessary if we wish to secure peace and security. A sizable minority, however, would disagree with this assessment. Sharon D. Welch, provost and professor at Meadville Lombard Theological School, is one who affirms nonviolence, but is also willing to hear out all voices. In Real Peace, Real Security, she offers a brief but very helpful book on this subject. In writing this book, Welch wants the reader to move beyond the debates that bedevil both “just war” advocates and pacifists. Rather than arguing whether one or the other is preferable, she seeks to push the discussion toward an end shared by both sides in the debate – peace on earth!
The book deals with such key issues as peacemaking, peace-building, peacekeeping, and creating space for an enduring security for all. She does this by attempting to bring to bear the religious, theological, and ethical traditions that are present in our world that will aid the international community in achieving this desired end. In writing this book, Welch wants to open our eyes to options that lie beyond either embracing the brutalities of war and simply standing by as genocide and crimes against humanity occur. She notes that finding this third way won’t be easy. It will take planning, patience and persistence. To move forward it is important that we understand the differences between “three constructive approaches to peace”: peacekeeping, peacemaking, and peace building. The first involves early intervention, the second bringing hostile parties into agreement, and the third seeks to create long-term structures that can help address the causes of the conflict. Each of these three stages is necessary if we are to move toward creating space for enduring security.
Although Welch is committed to nonviolence, and even pacifism, she is realist enough to understand that there may in fact be times and places where force might be necessary so as to create space for peacemaking and peace building to occur. The vision that Welch has for these forces is one that is more police action than soldiering. As we’ve seen in both Iraq and Afghanistan, invasion and occupation don’t work very well. As for nonviolent direct action, which is espoused by many as an alternative to coercive force, the author reminds us that while it can be very effective there are dangers that are intrinsic to it. First, Welch notes that can with overuse become “rote and ineffective.” This is especially true of mass marches, which might rally folks committed to the cause, but do little to communicate with opponents. Second, one must understand that direct action, even if nonviolent, “is a form of coercion that cannot build peace alone.” In fact, it often escalates the conflict and can disrupt communities. Therefore, this kind of action must be followed by reconciliation and restoration (pp. 10-11). To find an effective way of achieving peace and security, requires strategies that emerge from what the author calls “aesthetic pragmatism.”
The body of this book is composed of four chapters, one each on the above mentioned peacekeeping, peacemaking, peace-building, and enduring security. She begins with peacekeeping, a concept that we often connect with the blue helmets of United Nations forces. She defines peacekeeping as “the use of multilateral armed forces to prevent large-scale war and to stop genocide and crimes against humanity” (p. 16).
In the course of this first chapter Welch introduces the reader to the organizations and people involved in this effort, including the UN peacekeeping forces. The UN has been working on this since its founding in 1945, and its work has evolved. It has been recognized that the success of this effort requires that the military component be integrated with others – political, humanitarian, and dealing with human rights. In addition to exploring this evolution, Welch turns to ways in which the international community can respond to genocide and crimes against humanity. She notes that as of yet the UN has not been able to create the structures or the forces that can be used to prevent or stop criminal acts such as those happening in Darfur. One of the concerns she raises with regard to peacekeeping efforts is that there is a lack of consistency. To give an example, she points out the differences in response toward situations in Africa as opposed to Europe. There is also the problem of conflicting interests by the major powers. In exploring these questions she raises the issues of international consensus and the role of the just war tradition. Ultimately, she concludes that while force may in the end be necessary to prevent or stop a catastrophic event, it is in itself not sufficient. She writes:The value of peacekeeping is not in resolving conflict, but in providing the space in which enduring security and sustainable peace may be created through the long-term nonviolent work of obtaining comprehensive political assent and participation (p. 40).
If peacekeeping is often a necessary first step, it must lead to peacemaking and then peace-building if an enduring security is to be achieved.
Peacemaking is the subject of the second chapter. This involves two different tracks of diplomacy. The first track is one that seeks to develop comprehensive peace accords. This often comes to pass only after the parties have reached a stalemate, where both sides realize that resolution is nowhere in sight, or when sufficient pressure is placed on the parties from both inside and outside the conflict that the parties realize it is in their best interest to negotiate. Once this happens, then reconstruction can begin. If track one diplomacy focuses on the political leaders, track two seeks to bring the citizenry into the picture. It is the process of gaining popular support for negotiated accords. If peacekeeping is designed to provide space so that political assent and participation can be achieved, peacemaking is designed to “create the space in which participatory peace may be forged.” This happens, as the parties involved address “legitimate expectations for fundamental social and economic change” (p. 51).
Peacemaking is designed to create the space for peace-building to take place. This involves three components – “waging conflict nonviolently, building capacity to meet basic needs, and transforming relationships” (p. 54). In working to build peace, it needs to be remembered that the goal is not to remove conflict, but to change the way it is dealt with. This is the key to security – until the relationships between the parties to the conflict are changed, the potential for renewed conflict is ever-present. Lasting justice requires “restitution, reconciliation, and reintegration,” and the key to this is the practice of “restorative justice.”
Peace keeping, peace making, and peace building form three essential parts of the movement toward “enduring security.” Achievement of this security, will not come by way of unilateral military dominance and American exceptionalism, which is the neo-conservative view that fueled the “Bush Doctrine.” President Obama has at points tried to move away from this “doctrine,” but it is deeply entrenched in the American psyche and thus difficult to move off of. Instead of unilateralism, Welch pushes us to consider those voices that call for multilateral action. It is a doctrine rooted in soft power and recognizes the limits of violence to accomplish this goal. As we look toward this hoped for security, it’s important to know that religion can be both a source of violence and a counter to violence. Some religions, such as Buddhism, with its focus on enlightenment can end up with quietism, while Christianity, with its more activist faith can end up with crusades. The key is not falling into either of these traps. And while crusades would more likely fall into the realm of neo-conservative activism, Welch warns Progressives and leftists that they can easily fall into self-righteousness.
In Real Peace, Real Security offers a sober and practical vision for achieving true security. Such security will come, not at the point of the sword, nor will it come from marches or rallies. It will come as we take the difficult steps toward keeping, making, and building peace. It comes when we recognize our own limits and fragility, that on both sides of the debate on the use of force there can be unintended consequences. It will require honesty and hope, along with what Welch calls “aesthetic pragmatism.” We must begin the move toward true peace, but recognizing that we must deal with the world as it is. This is a book deeply rooted in a commitment to nonviolence, but it is also deeply rooted in a pragmatic sense of what can be done and what must be done. As one who struggles with this issue, and has been unable to move toward pacifism, this book offers a helpful middle way, that in the end might lead to security without violence.

Last week I blogged Dick Hamm's essay written for The Columbia Partnership newsletter, entitled "The Death of the Middle Judicatory."  Since then I've spent part of Friday and most of Saturday at gathering of regional leadership.  Our region, which has a rather small number of churches, and which is spread out across the state of Michigan, finds itself in a difficult situation.  How do we provide effective leadership and support across this vast territory when the funds needed to sustain a traditional regional ministry are not present.   We are in a transitional moment, having called upon two of our own to serve as co-regional ministers for the interim, while we discern a way forward.  We know we need strong leadership for the region, but the question is -- what should this look like.  Before we call someone to this task, it's important that we understand not just the needs, but what the regional structures will look like.  Thus, we're looking at reducing board size (ours is an unwieldy number that includes reps from all congregations, as well as chairs of various commissions and constituency groups), a web site that will allow for better communication, and finding ways of effectively spreading around responsibility for various aspects of church life.  Too often in the region, as in many congregations, staff ends up doing all the work.  That's not healthy for regions or congregations, and its especially not healthy for staff.
As we know with the story of Jesus, even as there is death, so there is also resurrection.  In proclaiming the death of the middle judicatory, Dick Hamm was speaking of the old "hub and spoke" model, in which everything flowed through and was essentially accomplished by the regional minister or staff.  That worked well in the 50s and 60s when even small regions had sufficient staff.  That's no longer true.  So, if death has occurred, what does resurrection look like?
Dick Hamm suggests that in this new era, we define the middle judicatory in terms of a "matrix of relationships," rather than a "hub and spokes."  Thus, instead of everything going from regional office to congregation, a web of relationships is nurtured and developed, so that congregations assist congregations, pastors assist pastors, and community is encouraged. 
Dick names a number of interesting ways that this can happen.
One is the development of "Judicatory Spiritual Leaders."  Dick defines this group of individuals in this way:They are trustworthy clergy and lay leaders who demonstrate spiritual and emotional maturity, and commitment to the whole church. These groups are created by the judicatory to engage in regular visitation of congregations and clergy. We are just getting on board with this, commissioning Regional Elders at our last Regional Assembly.  These are men and women who have exactly the qualities that Dick has defined.  Some of them carry specific responsibilities -- such as relating to men's ministries or women's ministries -- as well as serving to represent the region with congregations assigned to their care. 
A second way that this matrix can be created and sustained is through Resource Teams.  Dick writes of these teams:
Every middle judicatory has some individuals who are gifted and/or experienced in certain areas—youth ministry, spiritual disciplines, stewardship campaigns, teaching, etc. These folks can be recruited and trained to serve as consultants or coaches with congregations on behalf of the judicatory. Of course, their local responsibilities must be honored in determining how much time they have for such work, but most folks who are good at particular things are more than happy to share their knowledge and experience with other leaders and congregations.These can be people working with youth, missions, technology and the church and more.  Too often regional committees function as many congregational ones -- they provide oversight to the staff.  This no longer works -- our teams need to function in a way that carries out ministry, lifting the burden off of staff, which is likely a rather small group of people (if that). 
He also speaks of Communities of Learning (affinity), which develop from within the interests of the community.
If there is one individual or congregation of the judicatory that is interested in a particular subject, there are most like several others. As judicatory leaders hear of such interests, they can help to draw together “learning communities” of similarly interested people. These learning communities may last for several months or several years, dependent upon the subject and the ongoing interest of participants. Because ownership is important, these groups are most effective when they develop their own leadership, rather than depending upon judicatory staff to lead them. Communities of learning will sometimes lead to the development of new resource teams.He also talks about annual planning events and the creation of communication networks.  While many of these will be digital, he reminds us that we must remain aware of those individuals and congregations that are not up to speed on the digital highway.  But the digital highway is going to be key -- and it includes web sites, which must be easily updated and maintained by staff, blogs, and more. 
Now, you might be wondering:  what's left for staff to do?  Well besides no longer having to work 100 hours a week and having a life outside the office, they can be more effective in nurturing and equipping those who are engaged in ministry across the region (or whatever your middle judicatory is called).  Dick has a response to this question as well:The staff—especially the ordained staff—continues to have a sacramental role, being present at sacred moments in the lives of congregations and individuals, though not necessarily to the exclusion of volunteer judicatory representatives. The staff still plays a connectional role, keeping an eye open for interests and needs and thus linking them up to resource teams, affinity groups and so forth. No one else has the bird’s eye view that staff develop. The staff must still serve in those roles that require one individual to do ministry on behalf of the whole, such as dealing with misconduct cases and other extremely confidential situations.
The staff, particularly the senior executive, are still among the only ones who have the authority (formal and informal) to deal with the most vexing and sensitive situations. Sometimes it takes the senior executive to be able to tell a group of trouble making members or a minister, “You! Out of the poolThis last responsibility is key.  Congregations and clergy need to know and respect the presence of someone who can hold them accountable.  There are too many clergy who abuse congregations, and congregations that abuse their pastors.  There are congregations that seek to go around the regional leadership in searching for pastors, and more often than not this ends badly.  There needs to be someone with the respect and authority from outside to come in help them work things out -- this is that crisis management/conflict resolution responsibility that is so important.
Middle Judicatories, as we discovered last week play an essential role in maintaining healthy congregations, but the old ways no longer work.  So, we must begin finding new ways of encouraging and developing health congregations.
By the way, Dick Hamm is the former General Minister and President of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and now a consultant for The Columbia Partnership. 

Luke 14:1, 7-14


What would Emily Post say? If the President invites you to a party at the White House, where should you sit? If you arrive early, should you go and save that empty seat up front at his right hand? It sure would be great to sit as close as possible to the center of attention, but maybe it would be better to take a seat farther back in the crowd. Of course, proximity to greatness does suggest greatness!
Back in the Soviet era, when Leonid Brezhnev was still running things, Time Magazine would try to figure out who was next in line to succeed him. Since the Soviets weren't too keen on letting out the secret, the analysts at Time would watch where Politburo members stood on Kremlin wall overlooking Red Square during important events, like a May Day review of the troops. The assumption was that the closer you stood to Brezhnev, the closer you were to the top of the list. If you’d moved down a few spaces, well obviously you were on the way out of favor. You know that if Kremlinologists were paying such close attention to these details, there must have been a lot of jockeying for position on that wall.
Books, videos and audio tapes that carry titles such as How to Win Friends and Influence People and The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People offer advice about climbing the corporate ladder and becoming all you can be. You’ll find something similar in the book of Proverbs, which also offers advice on successful living. The general theme is this: if you do this, you’ll succeed; if you do that you’ll fail. Generally speaking this is all good advice – consider for instance this word from Proverbs 25, in which the ancient Jewish advice columnist says: "Do not put yourself forward in the king's presence or stand in the place of the great; for it is better to be told, ‘Come up here’, than to be put lower in the presence of a noble" (vs. 6-7). In other words, don't presume too much. If you want to be successful, then know your place, and show proper deference to your superiors.
The problem with Proverbs 25 is that it talks about deference, but not humility. Sometimes, advice like this can lead to manipulation. Consider that old Marabel Morgan book The Total Woman, which was a big seller back in the 1970s. Morgan told women to worship their husbands, greet them at the door in sexy outfits, and pretend to like sports. The flip side of this book was, if you give him what he wants, you’ll get what you want. If he thinks you’re submissive and attentive to his every need, then you can be in control. Believe me. Many women learned the lesson well, especially in the church. They may not have been up front or sit at the table at the board meeting, but their husbands didn't do anything without their permission.


1. KNOWING YOUR PLACE
Knowing how to behave in society has its place, and as you can see from Proverbs, Emily Post and Dale Carnegie didn’t invent the social advice genre. When it came to meals in the first century, they could often be important social events. That meant that you needed to know how to behave at them – something my mother tried to teach me at a young age.
Down through history, when important people have thrown big banquets and parties, they’ve invited the rich and famous to join them for their celebration. Anyone who is anyone will be on the guest list. If you’re not on the list, well I guess you simply aren’t all that important. On the day of the dinner, the host brings out the best china, the finest wines, and kills the fatted calf. After all, why bother with a dinner party, if you can’t impress your neighbors. But back to the guest list – an invitation isn’t enough. The seating chart is also a prime concern. Like the Kremlin wall, the seats closest to the host are always reserved for the most important guests. Which means, like a group of children playing a game of musical chairs, the guests will jockey for the best seats.
According to Luke, one day a wealthy pharisee invited Jesus to his house for lunch. When Jesus arrived, he noticed the other guests were jockeying for the best seats. Everyone was trying to find a seat at the head table, and therefore avoid sitting at the proverbial kid’s table. Jesus’ comment about this jockeying is reminiscent of Proverbs 25. "When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down in the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host." After all, you don’t want to suffer the embarrassment of being reseated at the back of the room, or worse, at the kid’s table. No, instead find a seat at the back, and then maybe the host, seeing your humility, will bring you up front.
Of course, Jesus isn’t in the business of offering advice on social graces. He isn’t interested in helping people climb the social or corporate ladder. Despite the many attempts to turn Jesus into a self-improvement teacher – remember ad man Bruce Barton’s 1920's classic: The Man Nobody Knows, which tried to portray Jesus as the greatest salesman in history – Jesus has something else in mind. Instead of offering a seminar on 10 Easy Steps to Social Success, Jesus tells a parable about finding one’s place at the table. It’s a word that calls for humility, because God isn’t all that concerned about our social status or whether the team wins the big game, despite what some athletes would have us believe.


2. KINGDOM REVERSALS
In the kingdom of God, which is always the focus of Jesus’ parables, the rules in life get reversed and turned upside down. What you think should be true in life, may not be as true as you’ve been led to believe. The rules of etiquette get turned on their head, because, as Jesus says: "For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted." This is a difficult concept to get our heads around. That’s because we know that if we’re going to succeed in life we have to promote ourselves. To give you a personal example – I’m a writer and I want people to read my blog and my books, which is why I set up a Facebook fan page for my blog. After all, if I don’t promote my blog or my new book on the Lord’s Prayer, which is due out in October by the way, then who’s going to promote them?
Yes, in our world, self-promotion is the name of the game. Do you think that the Heisman Award voters don't pay attention to the hype surrounding certain players? Why else, would colleges paint big posters on the sides of buildings in New York City or make video presentations available for the voters that lay out all the wondrous things the player has done. Yes, if you’re going to succeed in life, you have to market yourself. Because, if you don’t "look out for number 1,” then nobody will!
Unfortunately, Jesus has a different take on things. Remember that parables speak of what God is doing in the world. In telling his parable, Jesus reminds us that God is the one who humbles and who exalts. When it comes to the Kingdom of God, it is God who reverses the expected order of human relationships. That means, the first shall be last, and the last shall be first.


3. NO RECIPROCITY
In making his observation about the way in which God reverses our social rules, Jesus also touches upon the issue of reciprocity. Proper etiquette requires you to return the favor if someone invites you to a party. For the most part, that’s good advice, and to say otherwise will get me in trouble at home. But, Jesus wants us to understand that things are different in God’s realm. That’s because God is doing the inviting and not us. And so, Jesus tells us to send out invitations to people who can’t reciprocate. Instead of inviting the rich and famous, invite the poor, the lame, the blind, and the deaf. When you open the doors, be inclusive rather than exclusive, starting at the Lord’s Table, a Table that Jesus has set and at which he is the host. He has invited everyone, no matter their gender, their social status, their ethnicity, or even their theology to join him at his table. Yes, he has even invited you and me, even though we’re not in a position to reciprocate in any meaningful way.
What begins at the Lord’s Table should influence the rest of our lives – from the coffee hour to SOS, and beyond. I mention SOS for a reason. This is a ministry that we share with Congregational Church of Birmingham, along with many other churches and religious organizations in Oakland County. When we participate in SOS, we’re serving people who by and large can’t reciprocate. At the end of the week, we feel pretty good about ourselves and our ministry, which is okay, but we must beware of that human tendency to consider ourselves better than the people we serve. We must beware also of the tendency to think that we’re earning brownie points with God and with our neighbor. We serve not to impress others, but because it’s the way of the kingdom. We give to the Week of Compassion and Disciple Mission Fund, not because by doing so earns us a spot on the Top 100 Giving Churches in the denomination, but because we’ve been blessed with financial blessings, which we’re able to share. And the same is true of our increasing involvement with Motown Mission. We’re not going into Detroit believing that we’re going to save “those people” from their plight. We’re simply following our missional calling.
As we hear Jesus’ observation and the parable that follows upon it, we would be well served to remember that in the kingdom of God, as theologian Patrick Henry writes, Hospitality invites to prayer before it checks credentials, welcomes to the table before administering the entrance exam. (Patrick Henry, The Ironic Christian's Companion, (NY: Riverhead Books, 1999), 150). In the kingdom, hospitality comes with humility and a concern for the welfare of the other, instead of concern about our own social standing. That is not to say, that there are no blessings to be obtained in following our missional calling – our ultimate blessing comes in the resurrection, when we’re able to stand at the right hand of God with our elder brother, Jesus the Risen One!   Preached by: Dr. Robert D. Cornwall Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) Troy, Michigan August 29, 2010 Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Since moving to Michigan I've become ever more deeply involved in the regional manifestation of my denomination.  I've long been active in local clergy and interfaith groups, leading and founding some of them.  But, by and large I've stayed out of the "bureaucracy," leaving that to others.  Part of this previous avoidance can be explained by my physical distance from the center of things.  I did, however, maintain a strong relationship with my regional minister, which proved helpful in difficult times.  But I can no longer avoid my responsibilities.  I may live no closer to the regional office than before, but in a smaller region, and as pastor of one of the regions stronger congregations (even though we're not that large) -- one which contributes an out-sized amount of funding and persons to the regional denominational life -- I now have responsibilities I previously avoided!  (I am now chair of the Ecumenism Commission -- a one person committee at this time -- and a member of Church Growth and Revitalization Commission.  Oh, and one half of the Transitional Regional Minister team is a member of my congregation.
I give you this information so as to set a context for introducing an important article entitled "The Death of the Middle Judicatory," by Dick Hamm.  Dick is the former General Minister and President of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and a consultant with The Columbia Partnership.    Before becoming the GMP (how do you like that acronym) of the CC (DOC), Dick served as Regional Minister of the Tennessee Region.  Dick has been there and done that, and has learned a few things along the way about the role of the "middle judicatory" (an unfortunate term in my mind) for healthy congregations.  There was a day, not that long ago, maybe 25 years ago, when regions (the DOC term) had healthy budgets and healthy staffs.  I remember when I was ordained in 1985, the Christian Church in the Pacific Southwest had a regional minister and two full-time associates, plus support staff.  We had fully staffed committees and districts that met regularly.  That is no longer true there, and many regions, mine included struggle for survival.  Indeed, that's why many of them, mine included, are in a "transitional" mode.  We are looking at what can be done to save the regions, if they are meant to survive.  And that's the big question.  Many church folk, clergy and laity alike don't see the necessity (until they're in a crisis).  They don't see the relevancy (until they're at each other's throats).
That brings me to Dick's article.  He begins by pointing out the precipice that we're sitting on, and reminding us that healthy regions can be helpful to healthy congregations.  Unfortunately, staffs and resources have diminished so that regional staff spend much of their time putting out one fire after another (even in a small region).  There is little or no time for creative response or work, because you're spending 80 hours a week just bailing water.  And that's unfortunate, because like government, regions and denominations have important roles to play in the life of the local units.  Indeed, Dick provides a wonderful analogy:
Middle judicatories provide the connective tissue between congregations and their wider church family or denomination. Or, to use another biological image, middle judicatories are like the arteries and veins of denominations. When the flow in one of these vessels is partially blocked or cut-off, bad things happen both to the local and to the whole.  The problem is that many middle judicatories are functioning as if this were still the 1950s or 1960s, using a hub and spokes model of relationship with congregations, with the Regional Minister/Bishop being the Hub.  Things are just too complex today, and there is much greater diversity than ever before, and so the old model is failing -- but are we ready to try a new model?  That is the question. 
Dick talks about three kinds of Middle Judicatories -- Heroes (the ones who devote 80 hours a week trying to make this thing work), Slaves (do whatever must be done), and Change Agents.  What we need are change agents, but too many judicatories (don't you hate that word/) are stuck in the other two modes of being (probably true of pastors as well).  
So, here is his definition of a change agent -- are we ready to embrace this kind of leadership?  The change agents are the ones who recognize that 1960 is gone and never coming back and who, in the midst of doing the necessary each day (though not everything that presents itself as urgent), are also working at bringing transformational change to the middle judicatory so that it can become an effective servant of the church once again. This is hard work, it takes time, and it demands some of the best leaders (just as the transformation of congregations demands some of the best leaders). As the old saying goes, when you are up to your hips in alligators, it is hard to remember that the original objective was to drain the swamp! To do so requires spiritual as well as emotional and professional discipline, it requires frequently getting up on the balcony to see the bigger picture.We must pray that such leaders will come to the fore, not just to save the middle judicatory, but so that our congregations can live healthy, productive, missional lives!
To read the entire article, click here. 

I thought that interfaith dialogue had its limits—until I started talking with a Wiccan.
For many, paganism generally and Wicca in particular are synonymous with the occult, even Satanism. The presence of Wiccans at the groundbreaking for an interfaith chapel at a Disciples of Christ-related university brought streams of protests and a flurry of questions from the faithful. People asked/demanded: Why were they present?
This was the same sort of worry that led some Christians to raise concerns about the Harry Potter books and movies. They denounced the series because they feared that exposing children to magic—as if Disney movies hadn’t already done that a generation earlier—might lead them into witchcraft. The concern was that Harry made witchcraft look too good.
While Neopaganism and Wicca have exploded onto the religious scene in recent years—bookstores have shelves of books on these new-old religions—their popularity seems to derive not from an embrace of evil but from their noninstitutionalized character. They’re also popular for an emphasis on communing with nature, in a time when we face the prospects of global warming, overpopulation, urban sprawl and pollution. (Critics of environmentalism have thus equated that movement with the occult.)
I had never seriously considered engaging in conversation with a Neopagan or Wiccan until I wrote about Harry Potter in the local paper and received e-mails from Wiccans and Neopagans who thanked me for offering kind words about Harry Potter. My article was posted on Wiccan sites, where respondents expressed surprise that a Christian pastor could have an open mind and compassionate spirit toward Wiccans. Many said they've experienced persecution and discrimination from Christians. They feel that their religion has been mischaracterized.
In series of e-mails with a Neopagan, I got to know a man who is married, has adult children, a job and endeavors to live in peace with his neighbors. I think he’s fairly representative—although he admitted that, like anything else, Neopaganism has its oddballs.
One e-mail from my pen pal raised the issue of the Veteran’s Administration’s refusal to allow Wiccans to use the pentacle on VA-sponsored memorials. (The VA doesn’t recognize Wicca as a religion.) I don't understand why we would allow someone to die serving his country but not recognize his or her religious affiliation.
Of course, people of other religions experience similar discrimination. In Tennessee the candidate for lieutenant governor has suggested that Muslims don’t deserve to be covered by the constitutional provisions of religious freedom, because in his mind, Islam isn’t a religion.
Those of us who are members of the religious majority have a responsibility to speak up for those whose religious identities are mischaracterized and smeared. If we had a few more conversations with those who are different from us, life would be better for all of us.
Reposted from Theolog, the Christian Century blog, for which I am a frequent contributor

Proverbs 25:6-7

Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
Luke 14:1, 7-14


Humble and Hospitable
Success in life requires self-promotion. It also involves reciprocity. If you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. If you promote me, I’ll promote you. But there are dangers in both self-promotion and mutual back-scratching. They can backfire. You get something of this in the texts for this week. Both the reading from Proverbs and the gospel lesson speak of circumspection, recognizing your place, and not overstepping bounds. Standing in between these two texts, Proverbs and Luke, is the epistle of Hebrews, which commends a life of mutual love and hospitality. Humility and hospitality, two virtues that we would be wise to develop and nurture – not just so we can be successful in life, but so we can live out the promise of the life of faith.
As is often true there is more than one choice of texts from the Hebrew Bible. In addition to the Proverbs 25 passage, one could turn to Jeremiah 2:4-13, but it doesn’t fit the flow of the texts as well as does Proverbs 25. In many ways Jesus’ response to the jostling for the best seat in the house, simply restates the wisdom imparted by the earlier proverb. If you go to a party or a function where there are people of importance present, seat yourself at the back rather than at the head table. Don’t presume upon the host, and consider yourself of greater importance than is actually true. You don’t want the host coming to you and asking you to move back, because someone more important has arrived. Instead, start at the back, and perhaps the host, seeing your humility, will choose to bring you to the front and seat you among the people of importance. This is good advice, which we should all heed. Yes, we know that sometimes you have to do a bit of self-promotion if you’re going to succeed in life, but beware of the consequences.
If humility is one virtue imparted by these texts, the other is hospitality. Ancient society, like many non-western societies, put a great premium on hospitality. One of the stories that was often told suggested the possibility that the strangers who come into your midst, who knock at your door, might be angels or divine beings. So, you would be well-advised to treat the stranger, whether or not, they are angels, as if they are. That is the word we hear in Hebrews 13, a passage that covers a variety of issues as the sermon closes in a litany of does and don’ts. Don’t neglect hospitality to strangers – they could be angels. Remember, Lot welcomed strangers into his home, and they turned out to be angels. Abraham and Sarah also entertained angels, in fact the same ones that Lot and his family entertained. For Lot the visit was less of a blessing – since his neighbors were less than hospitable to the strangers, and that led to destruction (Gen. 19). As for Abraham and Sarah, the angels bore news of an impending birth, which would be a blessing to nations (Gen. 18:1-15).
There is a relationship between humility and hospitality. To be hospitable requires a certain degree of humility, a willingness to serve without any expectation of a return. Yes, it is true that the whole premise of hospitality in the ancient world was built upon reciprocity, but Jesus undermines that principle to a degree. He tells the listeners a parable, in which the one who invites to the party chooses to invite those who are unable to reciprocate – the poor, the lame, and the blind. Invite them without any expectation of repayment. In this you will find blessing.
The implications of these texts are many. They’re reminders of our call to attend to the needs of the stranger and the ones living on the margins – the widow, the orphan, the infirm, and the poor. Such people are not in the position of returning the favor. But, if we choose to live our lives in such a way that we lift up those who cannot lift themselves up, becoming a servant, we will be repaid in the resurrection. Then we shall be lifted up to sit at the right hand of the one who sits at the right hand of God. But in the meantime, there are still blessings that come from being circumspect and not presuming upon a host, but instead waiting to be invited forward. There are blessings as well that come from offering service to those who cannot repay. They may not be tangible, but they are there. May we be a blessing, even as we have been blessed.
Reposted from [D]mergent.org, a Disciples oriented blog, for whom I write a weekly lectionary reflection.