WWJD

Every now and then, I am struck by the wonder and breadth of the Christian church.  The Church worships God and that worship comes from many places in many languages and in many forms.  Whether it is a formal, liturgical English service or a relaxed, informal Kikamba service, God is worshipped and it is still the church.  While some lament the fragmentation of the church into denominations, I actually rejoice in the diversity of the church–since we are all different as humans, it makes sense that God would allow the Church to develop structures and forms that allow everyone to have a place to comfortably worship God.

That aspect of our diversity excites and encourages me.  It says that God speaks our language; that God accepts our worship in all its diversity; that God cares about who we are and what has meaning for us.  We may struggle with human diversity but God seems to celebrate and encourage it.  I appreciate the ability to worship in different styles and languages with different approaches to music and liturgy and preaching.

But there is a dark side to our diversity.  The dark side begins when we become aware of our differences and begin to think that different automatically means that we are right and they are wrong.  It occurs when we begin to think that Jesus must have done things the way we do things and that he must somehow have put his stamp of approval on our ways.  When  we begin to claim that Jesus is on our side, we have moved into the darkness.

While I would like to think that Jesus was a Baptist, the reality is that Jesus was non-denominational.   He wasn’t Baptist or Catholic or Pentecostal or Anglican–but at the same time, he is all of these and more.  And so, while I read the New Testament with my Baptist bias and find support for believers’ baptism by full immersion, I need to realize that there is also support for other forms of baptism.  Would Jesus practise immersion or pouring or sprinkling?  Well, since there is no record of Jesus actually baptizing anyone, we can’t say for sure what he would have done.

And if we can’t say for sure what he would have done, we probably need to have a more open mind on baptism that we generally do.  That reality generalizes to most of church life.  We don’t have a clear and definitive model of the church in the New Testament.  Sometimes, it acts congregational, as it did in Acts 15 when the church was dealing with the issue of how to deal with the influx of Gentile believers coming from  Paul’s ministry. At other times, it acts as a hierarchy,  with the apostles exercising considerable authority, as we see in other places in the book of Acts and in some of Paul’s writings.

I am not sure that Jesus had any particular denominational approach in mind when he set up the church.  He wanted the church to be the gathering of the faithful, a place where believers could help each other and reach into the world.  He wanted the church to be known for its love to God and its members.  He wanted the church to show the world a better way–but whether we should have a congregational or hierarchical system of government didn’t enter the picture.

He wanted the church to be his agent in the world–but didn’t tell us how we should structure our worship, what language we should worship in, what type of music we should use, who should preach, what style of preaching we should use, how long the worship should be and so on.  Most of the things that we look at and consider important in the church don’t even rate a mention in the New Testament, which should tell us a lot.

Rather than  try to make the whole church the same or waste time fighting over our differences, we in the church need to remember to worship God, love each other and show the light to the world.  Beyond that, we can enjoy our particular spot in the diversity that is the church while appreciating and maybe even borrowing from the rest of the church.

May the peace of God be with you.

POLITICAL CORRECTNESS

At a recent meeting, a friend was receiving a certificate recognizing his status.  During a break after the certificate was presented, one of the committee responsible for the presentations came over to apologize to my friend.  The certificates had been changed recently by the parent organization and instead of having a “he/she” where one could be scratched out, the certificate now said “they”.  The presenter was a bit upset at this obvious grammatical error.

Except it wasn’t a grammatical error.  Using “they” or “their” is now an acceptable way of referring to an individual.  It is a politically correct way of avoiding the issues that can lie in wait whenever gender is an issue.  Personally, the switch didn’t particularly bother me for a couple of reasons.  First, I remember when those particular certificates were printed with only “he”–and continued to be that way for several years after “she” was needed.  And, pragmatically, those of us with less interest in proper grammar have been using “they” to refer to individuals for years.

But this little incident did add more fuel to a flickering thought I have been beating around for a few years.  In general, I am comfortable with political correctness in writing and speaking.  At its root, it is simply a desire to be fair and polite and respectful, all things that fit in well with my Christian faith.  I believe that as part of my faith, I am to be accepting and respectful and fair and polite and it using political correct terms accomplishes that, I have no real problem–plus, it is much easier to write or say “they” than  it is to figure out the proper gender-based terminology.

On the other hand, where does it end?  It seems that political correctness has become as dominant a force in some circles as political incorrectness has been and is in some places.  If I prefer a gender based pronoun, that makes me the focus of some serious criticism in some circles–and some of that criticism can be driven by anger and scorn and disrespect, the very things that political correctness is supposed to prevent.

Parts of our culture have become intolerant of intolerance–and are quite willing to make their intolerance known.  From my perspective as an concerned (and sometimes confused observer) the intolerance of political correctness against intolerance looks and acts pretty much like the intolerance of political non-correctness.  So, in a space where free speech is prized, it appears that only certain forms of free speech are allowed.  That looks and sounds a lot like censorship, which is supposed to be non-correct politically.

I end up confused, not knowing who to support.  And in the end, if both sides are using the same tactics, is there really a difference?  If tolerance can’t tolerate intolerance, how tolerant can it really be?

As in most major issues, we need to realize that we don’t generally accomplish much when we try to prohibit people from doing something.  Telling people “no” seems to produce some reluctant obedience and a great deal of backlash.  It rarely changes much and often produces more problems.

We probably need to pay a lot more attention to Jesus, whose approach to the politically non-correct world he came to was to love people and meet felt needs of real people.  He used “he” and “she”; he called “sin” sin; he scolded religious leaders who prized rules over people; he waded into the dark, foul mess we call life and shone a light of love and acceptance and forgiveness and hope, a light that people wanted and needed.

Jesus wasn’t politically correct.  Rather, he was being theologically correct, which seems to me to be a much more demanding standard.  He saw the value of each and every individual and treated them as a loved and respected individual, whether they were a rich intellectual sneaking in after dark to see him or a known prostitute crashing a party to wash his feet with her tears.  Both these people and anyone else who encountered Jesus went away knowing that they had been in the presence of the Divine and had been seen and recognized for who they were.

Some used the support of the love and acceptance to become more of what they were meant to be and some fled the love and acceptance because they were unwilling to see themselves as they really were.  Political correctness seeks to make rules that might help some people at some times and have some benefits–but Jesus’ theological correctness seeks to show all that they are loved and what is possible within the context of that love.

May the peace of God be with you.

DO UNTO OTHERS…

Every now and then, I run into a “modern” version of the Golden Rule, the words of Jesus found in Matthew 7.12: ” So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”  This modern version is often presented in semi-humorous contexts and goes something like this “Do unto others before they do unto you.”

Unfortunately, it seems that our culture has decided that the humorous “before” is more applicable than the original “to”–since my rights and the privileges and desires that I feel belong to me by virtue of my existence are more important than anyone else’s rights, privileges and desires, I need to protect them.  And as we are often told, “The best defence is a strong offence.”

Others, especially others who are or might be different, are a threat to me and what I deserve.  Their choices and desires and practises threaten me and my freedom to be what I want to be.  I need to ban them, restrict them, overcome them, segregate them, control them–and in extreme cases, maybe even find a way to get rid of them.  And if that sounds harsh and hate filled, these are just the headlines that we humans have been reading, experiencing and creating over the years.

Jesus’ words about doing to others fly in the face of socially acceptable norms–norms that are as common and dangerous today as they were in his day–and which go back to the beginning of human awareness.  But Jesus knows that our self-focused, insane drive to put ourselves at the centre of the universe only results in pain, suffering, and continual conflict.  He calls for a different way.

We do to others what we would like done to us. In one compact sentence, Jesus manages to open the door to a new understanding of self and others.  His route doesn’t demand that I ignore myself to benefit others but it also doesn’t demand that I ignore others for the benefit of myself.  Jesus calls for me to engage in a conscious dialogue involving me, the other and the situation.  There is a fourth aspect to the dialogue but I going to hold off on that for a bit.

I need to know what I want/need in the situation.  I need to be aware of myself and my needs and wants.  To really carry out Jesus’ call here, I also need to be willing to examine the validity and necessity of my needs/wants–maybe some of what I need/want isn’t all that important and can be sacrificed or at least downsized.

I need to be aware of the reality of the other–what are their real need/wants.  That will probably mean I need to engage the other and develop some form of relationship–I can’t really get to know the other from a theoretical point of view.  I need to know the other as well as I can.

And I need to know the situation well.  If I am lost, hungry and bleeding, what would I need/want?  I probably wouldn’t want a Gospel tract, unless it was made of cloth and I could use it as a bandage.  I would appreciate directions, first aid and maybe a sandwich although if I am hungry enough, even a pocket-lint covered cough drop might help.

Realistically, that is a major amount of work–and doing it effectively demands that I open myself to the legitimacy of the other as I figure out how to do to them what I want done to myself.  In small, clearly defined situations, I can probably do it and might do it.  But the bigger the situation, the more complex the needs/wants, the more “other” the other is, the harder the whole process and the more unlikely I am to do it.

And this is where I need to remember the fourth part of the dialogue I am engaged in.  I need to involve God.  I need to open myself to the Holy Spirit, whose task in my life is to both guide me in my thinking process and strengthen me in the actual doing.  To really do as Jesus said, I need the power and help of God.  Fortunately, God is both willing and able to give me all the help I need to do to others what I would have them do to me.

May the peace of God be with you.

WORDS OF WISDOM

When my freedom to live in a colour independent world and your freedom to live in a colour dependent world collide, we have a problem.  One of the troubling solutions to that problem in much of North America is for us to start shouting at each other about our respective rights.  The process fairly quickly escalates:  we begin to push and shove, sometimes physically and sometimes legally but more and more often through the media.  Generally, the collision of competing freedoms results in pain, confusion and more collisions.

As a Christian, I think we need to be willing to look beyond the socially normal practises that we so easily adopt to settle our issues.  If we are going to claim to follow Jesus, we probably need to actually try to apply his words to our life situations.   And so, facing the clash of competing rights and freedoms, I look to him for some words of wisdom.  My preferred choice would be words from Jesus that support my particular desire, or at least words that I can beat into shape to support my desire.

Unfortunately, Jesus didn’t have much to say about colour-blindness so I can’t really quote him as supporting my desire for a colour independent world.  So, I have to actually look at his teaching and do some thinking, praying and work a bit–although it isn’t all that hard a task to discover Jesus’ teaching on clashing desires.  Jesus actually has quite a bit to say on that topic.

One of the foundational sayings comes from Matthew 22.39, where Jesus uses an Old Testament quotation to answer a question about the most important commandments.  After reminding the inquirer that the first command is to love God completely, he tells him the second is like it:  “Love your neighbour as yourself”.  As I have worked at this sentence over the years, I have come to deeply appreciate the layers and layers of truth here.

One layer deals with the complex interactions between competing human realities.  Jesus isn’t supporting my need for colour-independence nor the prevailing colour-dependence in our culture.  Rather, he is calling for an interdependence and mutual responsibility that benefits all.  Instead of “either-or”, Jesus is calling for us to work things out in an atmosphere of mutual respect and concern and appreciation.  I have to love my neighbour not at the expense of loving myself but in the same way I love myself.

Seen from this perspective,  the ultimate question isn’t who wins in the clash of desires but how we can mutually and respectfully work towards a solution that works for all involved.  This is a much more difficult process than making enough noise and causing enough confusion so that in the end, one side or the other gains some sort of victory.  Jesus’ solution requires that we engage with others to find a mutually acceptable solution, a solution that may not give anyone exactly what they want but which will allow them to develop a much stronger relationship with each other and with God.

Of course, this is just Bible talk, which we know has no real connection with the realities of life where winning is everything and my desires are my rights.  But given the reality that our western culture is becoming increasingly fragmented, increasingly fractious, increasingly violent and increasingly unworkable, we just might want to look at these words of wisdom as a better way.

The current direction of our culture leads us into a dystopian future where every left-handed, colour-blind, bearded,  60+  Jeep driving male runs the world–of course, every right handed, colour seeing, clean shaven, 20+ Prius driving female is also running the world which means that we are going to spend a lot of time fighting.

Jesus’ way is hard because it requires us to work together to find a balance between what we think we must have and what others think they must have.  If we love each other, we engage in a give and take–I will memorize the position of the traffic light I can’t distinguish because the present colour dependent system works better than anarchy.  But if you give me directions to your house, give me the civic number not the colour and tell me that there are two maples and a pine tree in the front.

If I love my neighbour as myself, I will be concerned with a solution that benefits us both and will be willing to give up something so that we both gain.

May the peace of God be with you.

“GOOD” FRIDAY?

I like movies that deal with a relatively innocent individual who ends up being attacked unjustly by some other individual, group or shadowy organization.  Such stories are predictable:  a peaceful life is disrupted, the protagonist turns out to be a retired expert at martial arts, guerilla warfare, improvised weapons manufacturing who has access to unlimited funds, fast cars and airplanes (along with the occasional tank and ballistic missile) and who knows people who freely and quickly fill him (generally it is a “he” in these movies) in on all sorts of top secret details that he needs to know.

Armed with his skills, money, resources and intel,  he sets out to destroy the villains, rescue the lady and get his life back.  We expect that he will be beaten several times, trapped in an inescapable trap, shot and be involved in at least one car chase. At some point, he will appear to be defeated, maybe even killed. But at some point, he will make a comeback–and he will win.  The bad guys will be destroyed in appropriately violent ways and the hero and his new found (or returned) love will settle back down in their peaceful life, at least until the sequel.

I like the movies and the stories because they are predictable, they have car chases, they have improbable feats of “skill”, and because the good guy wins no matter what the odds are.  No matter how evil the antagonist; no matter how powerful the opposition group; no matter how high in the government the shadowy organization reaches, the hero wins.  And it may be that this appreciation of that particular media genre comes from my faith.

I don’t think it comes because I see myself as the faith equivalent of the movie hero–far from it.  If I were in the movie, I would likely be the innocent, uninvolved driver whose car is the first one run off the road in the car chase–and I wouldn’t even be the one that gets to take flight and land in a tree or someone’s dining room.  No, I think the reason my faith gets tied up in this sort of movies is that my faith is based on the biggest version of this story.

Jesus’ story has it all, except for the car chase.  A quiet hero minding his own business who attracts the attention of a powerful organization who sets out to destroy him; some serious injustice and conspiracy; a betrayal; a beating–and in the end, an execution.  But where this story parts company with the movies is that this is a real execution, not something thrown together with special effects, top secret medications and covert assistants in the conspiracy.  Jesus dies and the bad guys sit around congratulating themselves on their power and ability to deal with issues.

All this in less than a week–by Friday, the conspirators are ready for a break and settle down to enjoy the holiday.  Jesus is dead; the story is over–roll the credits.  This is not a good movie–or a good day.

Of course, we know the end of the story.  Jesus is the ultimate hero who defeats even death.  The whole story gets turned around because everything that the bad guys did was part of the plan from the beginning.  Jesus dies–but for the story to end the way it is supposed to end, he has to die.  The conspiracy really only does what Jesus knows they are going to do–he uses their free choices to bring about his end.

And that is why a day filled with hatred, injustice, evil conspiracies, betrayals, denials, torture and anything else that our all too human bent towards evil can come up with becomes “Good Friday”.  It isn’t good because of what happens that day–it becomes good because of the way God transforms the evil of the day into the ultimate good.  Good Friday is only good because of Easter Sunday, the day when the ultimate hero stages the ultimate comeback for the ultimate good.

Good Friday shows us how God takes on the absolute worst that we human beings have to offer and overcome it with the absolute best that he can offer–the power of his unlimited love and grace.  Even though there isn’t a car chase, it is still without question the best hero story of all time.

May the peace of God be with you.

EASTER SERMONS

            I have been preaching for a lot of years, which means I have been preaching about Easter for a lot of years.  Some years, it gets really hard to find something to say–or maybe it is more precise to say it gets really hard to find some way to say something in a fresh and attention grabbing way. As a preacher, I don’t get to listen to too many sermons but  have been bored enough by some of the ones that I have heard to work hard at not boring those who listen to my sermons.

This year, when I began sermon planning for the Easter season, I followed my usual practise of typing the date of each Sunday and then staring at the computer screen, hoping for inspiration.   I reviewed what I did last year but that didn’t help whole lot–I began working at one of the pastorates on Easter Sunday and the other the Sunday after Easter.  That should have made the whole process easier but it didn’t–I was forced to confront my own boredom when it comes to Easter preaching.  I needed to see the story from a different perspective.  I needed something that would interest me so that I could have some enthusiasm to communicate to the congregations–and since I am working for two different pastorates with two different set of needs, I really needed two new interesting approaches.

Fortunately, God is merciful and graceful even to aging, bored (and maybe boring) preachers and helped me with some inspiration.  For one set of sermons, I have been giving serious thought to the choices that led Jesus to the cross.  As I was staring at the blank screen, I began to see how Jesus makes choices at critical points along the way to the cross.  At several points, his choice can either stop or continue the process.

I began to think and mediate on the reality of the freedom Jesus had–he wasn’t a robot, pre-programmed to head for the cross, ignoring everything else.  Jesus had the freedom to not go to the cross.  As God, it is his creation and his plan. He is in charge and therefore has the right and the freedom to change the plan.  Even more, since he is God and makes the rules, whatever he decides is right by definition.

While the cross and resurrection are absolutely essential from my perspective as a beneficiary, from Jesus perspective, they were always an option.  Not going to the cross was also an option–a good option from Jesus’ perspective, even if it is a terrible option from my perspective.  When  I look at the choices Jesus made that led him to the cross, I see his love and grace in a whole new light.

He volunteered–and kept volunteering.  Right up to his death he kept making choices that would put him on the cross–and he kept making them because of his love towards us.  Now, I have been preaching about the unending love of God for us forever (at least it feels like that) but this year, making myself look at how Jesus kept making clear decisions to go to the cross, I have seen anew the depths of God’s love in Jesus Christ.

As I contemplate the choices, I see the depth of fear and pain in the prayer in Gethsemane–this is not some robot following a program; this is not some remote-controlled being dancing to some controller; this is not a drone acting out of instinct and programming.  This is the story of Jesus, who has to work hard to get to the cross.  He has to make the right decisions at the right time, all the while being able to see the consequences of each decision and each alternative decision and therefore, likely feeling the pain of the nails long before they were actually driven into his wrists.

There are days when I can’t make a non-self focused decision to save myself–but Easter tells us that Jesus’ whole life was a series of non-self focused decisions to save everyone else at the cost of his own safety and life.  That is a real love story, one that I will have an eternity to contemplate.

May the peace of God be with you.

CHOCOLATE BUNNIES OR EXECUTIONS?

            As secularized religious holidays go, Easter really doesn’t measure up to the standard set by Christmas.  Christmas gets our whole western culture looking at religious themes.  If we aren’t seeing manger scenes everywhere, we are hearing about court battles to prevent or allow them.  We even get treated to religiously themes songs in various media outlets.

But Easter, well, Easter is a different kind of holiday.  Then whole season deals with stuff that most of our culture–well, most of most cultures–find unpleasant.  Easter puts the focus on things like political and religious corruption.  It deals with false arrest and torture.  It tells the story of a good man being legally, physically and emotionally brutalized for political reasons.  And then to make matters  worse, the man dies.  We could probably deal with the story as a culture if Jesus suddenly turns on his captors and using some swift and skillful Ninja moves, puts his captors in their place.

But Jesus isn’t some movie hero.  He feels the weight of authority and that authority wins–Jesus dies after a painful and sadistic process designed to not only kill the victim but also demoralize anyone nearby.  Crucifixion was Rome’s way of telling everyone that they had better watch their step or else–and the “or else” was regularly exercised along the public highways.

Compared to a baby being born in a stable with angels and cuddly lambs, this story really doesn’t cut it for our society.  That is probably why our culture has tended to ignore the basic Easter story in  favour of bunnies, chicks and a ton of candy.  Those sell better.  Eating a chocolate Easter bunny is a whole lot more fun that contemplating a cruel and vicious execution and the death of a popular but defeated hero.

Maybe we need to change the story to make it more acceptable to our culture.  We could, for example, talk about Jesus as a great teacher, a humanitarian whose words and deeds serve to inspire us even though he is dead.  If we emphasise that side, we don’t have to deal with the sordid and messy details like death and all that.  Jesus could join the ranks of people such as Ghandi and Martin Luther King Jr and Nelson Mandela.  We could use Easter to celebrate the words of Jesus and pledge to make the world a better place by trying to follow some of his teachings–and still enjoy all the candy.

The words of Jesus are important.  The things he did are important.  But in the end, without the cross and the tomb which becomes empty, his story is somewhat pointless and meaningless.  And that is because underneath the whole story is a much deeper, much more unpleasant truth that our culture simply doesn’t want to see or deal with.

This deep and unpleasant truth concerns us as human beings.  Easter is built on the fact that we are not what we think we are and we are not what we were meant to be.  Easter reminds us that we are all flawed and imperfect beings who got ourselves into a mess that we can’t get ourselves out of and need serious help.

Easter tells us that we are as much a part of the corrupt, self-serving political-religious machine that executed Jesus as Pilate and the chief priest and the fickle crowed who praised on Palm Sunday and jeered on Good Friday.  We are those people and they are us–we are all tainted and damaged–we are all both the perpetrators and victims of sin, both ours and everyone else’s’.  This inconvenient truth poses problems for most people.  We generally recognize the reality of sin but want sin to be something we see on TV from some distant place were really evil people do terrible things.  We don’t want sin  to be something we do and we definitely don’t want it to be something serious enough that Jesus needs to go through all that cruelty and pain and injustice because of us.

But that is the story.  That is the reality.  And if most people prefer a chocolate bunny to this real story, that is understandable–not right but understandable.  We all tend to run away from what we don’t like–a good diversion beats reality hands down in our culture.

As for me–well, I like a chocolate bunny now and then–but don’t really need it.  I hate the idea of a crucifixion and unjust death–but boy do I need the resurrection and the forgiveness and acceptance that the risen, living Christ provides.

May the peace of God be with you.

NOW AND FOREVER

I love writing.  It allows me the freedom to think and process, the opportunity to take what might be a random thought and develop it and turn it over and around and occasionally inside out and see where it takes me.  It also helps me see how things relate to each other because one thought nudges another and as I contemplate the second, a third pops up demanding attention and as I put that third thought somewhere safe for further consideration, a fourth peeks around the edge of the third silently pleading for a bit of my time and attention.

As I was finishing the last post, I became conscious of one of those silent peeking thoughts.  As I was writing about surrendering to God, I wrote, “… having done it once, there is no guarantee that I will do it again.”  The thought that was peeking around the edge went something like this, “That could suggest that we are never sure of where we stand with God because of all the surrendering we have yet to do.”–or at least that is sort of what I think it was suggesting–sometimes, my thoughts make a whole lot more sense peeking around the corners than they do when I actually look at them.

But this did start another train in motion.  At some point in my life, I surrendered my life to God through Jesus.  I was around 13 or 14 and just knew that this was what I wanted to do.  I didn’t have a totally clear idea of what I was actually doing but I knew it was an important decision.  I probably knew a lot more about my decision that the thief on the cross when he made his decision but a lot less than  the Apostle Paul when he made his.

But the thought that came peeking around wants me to think about that.  Was that very early commitment, made with the incomplete knowledge I had at the time, going to ensure that I had a place with God now and forever?  I mean, I have already acknowledged that I am not always all that good at surrendering to God.  I also know a whole lot more about the faith and my faith now than I did then.  Can a commitment I made at 13 be enough to cover me now?  Or do I need to keep renewing that commitment, something like a magazine subscription?

There are many who believe something like this, that faith commitments are limited and need to be renewed on a regular basis, meaning that between the time the commitment lapses and gets renewed, we have nothing.  Such theology can produce a desire to continually re-commit just to be safe and it can also produce a huge spiritual insecurity because we can never relax and enjoy our place with God.

This uncomfortable peeking thought made things worse by reminding me of my inconsistency.  I know I don’t always live up to the commitment I made way back then.  There have in fact, been a few times in my life when I actually regretted the decision.  All in all, my first surrender to God was weak, not completely informed, and inconsistently applied.

That peeking and uncomfortable thought has a good premise–my surrender back then by itself isn’t what keeps me safely in the presence of God.  But all is not lost because that surrender was to God through Jesus and because it involves God, it isn’t all dependent on me.  God has a part in this whole process and his part is the crucial and important one.

God takes my surrender, weak and incomplete though it was, inconsistent as it is and he reinforces and empowers and guarantees it. My surrender in Christ becomes permanent because of the love and grace and power of God.  As Paul puts it in Romans 8.39b, there is nothing in all creation that “… will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” NIV

My initial surrender to God established my place with God now and forever.  Nothing can ever end that.  And, on the basis of that initial surrender, I make all the rest of the surrenders in the context of knowing that surrender or not, from that point of accepting God, I have also been accepted by God, whose constancy and love and grace and power ensure that I will be with him now and forever.

May the peace of God be with you.

YOU WILL BE WITNESSES

It’s still drippy and wet outside, too wet and cold to go out and do any of the myriad of things that need to be done before winter really sets in so my choices for this, my day off are somewhat limited.  So, I am back in my living room chair, laptop on my lap and tired of staring out the window and not actually needing another nap right now.  So, maybe I will return to the witnessing theme.

If it is true that we are witnesses by virtue of being believers, then the only choice we have about witnessing is how good a witness we will be and what kind of god we will give witness to.  Now, the more I look at it and think about it, I am not really sure that we actually have  much of a choice about how good a witness we will be–it is the people who see and hear our witness who actually determine how good a witness we are.

Given the current state of the Christian faith in North America, I think we can safely say that either our witness is being evaluated as poor or, we are effectively witnessing to a god who doesn’t interest most people in North America.  And before we begin offering remedial witnessing classes to make us all better witnesses, maybe we need to spend some serious time thinking about the god we are giving witness to.

I am no longer sure that we as believers are always giving witness to the one, true, eternal, loving God whose love, grace and mercy are shown so clearly and powerfully in the risen and living Jesus Christ.  And maybe the lack of response to our witness isn’t a result of us doing a poor job of witnessing but rather, the result of our doing a good job of witnessing to the wrong god.

And if that is the case–and obviously, I think that is at least part of the reality in our world today–then we need to begin at the bottom and renew our understanding of the God we claim to follow and give witness to.  We worship a God whose relationship with humanity is most clearly and powerfully shown in Jesus Christ, whose life, death and resurrection show us a God who will literally move heaven and earth to bring even one person back into relationship with him.

I think that unless our witness to God is grounded and shaped by the reality of Jesus Christ, we have missed the point and are giving witness to the wrong God.  Anything that obscures or dilutes the love and grace of God shown in the risen and living Christ takes the witness of the faith down a side road that ultimately leads away from God not to him.

I think that unless our witness to God is rooted in a basic commitment to remembering that God is love (I John 4.8), we have missed the point and therefore may be good and effective witnesses but are simply not giving witness to the true God.

A witness that is true and effective at showing the real God needs to be focused on the love and grace of God, a love and grace that we understand because of our personal experience with it.  That is not to say that everyone needs to experience the love and grace of God the way we experienced it–one of the wonders of God’s love and grace is that it have room for the incredible diversity of humanity and human experience.  My personal experience of God’s love and grace is a central part of who I am–but probably won’t be central to another person.  They will experience God’s love and grace in their own way.  I give witness to the reality of God’s love and grace in Jesus Christ–not to the way it came to me.

Building our witness becomes possible only as we spend time with God, understanding his love and grace.  We need time and effort to learn of God–but the unfortunate reality is that we don’t get to learn witnessing before we do it.  Discipleship is on the job training so we are trying to learn at the same time we are actually doing the job.  From personal experience, I know that this is both the most difficult and most effective form of witness training.

Fortunately for us, there is help for us in the process–which we will look at in the next post.

May the peace of God be with you.

CHRISTMAS IS COMING

Thanksgiving is over–at least here in Canada.  We now have two things to look forward to:  the first snowfall and Christmas.  I may be one of the few people I know who really looks forward to the first with joyful anticipation but I don’t care.  I like snow and winter and my car already has its winter tires on and the snowbrush and shovel in the back so let it come–my skis and snowshoes have been idle too long.

For most of us, though, it is time to begin thinking about Christmas, as in “what do I get for so and so” and “how do I hint successfully for what I want”.  For me as a pastor, there is also the added issue of “what do I say on Sundays that won’t bore people too much” and “how do I cope with the rush of Christmas events that seem to begin earlier and earlier each year”.

I have been a pastor for a lot of years–I probably preached my first Advent/Christmas sermons in 1974 (yes, they did have Christmas then, although Advent came in later).  The issue I always face is trying to take a fresh and interesting approach to the season–not so much for the congregations who will hear the messages but for me as I prepare them.  If what I say is old and tired and been done several times before, it is really hard for the congregation to get excited and engaged.

And I see the need for creating engagement more and more these days.  Christmas has become such an integral part of our culture that even we in the Christian faith can forget what it is all about.  Christmas has become an economic driver for our commercial economy; an emotional release at the beginning of a long winter; a political litmus test for inclusiveness and multiculturalism; an excuse to ask for and give stuff nobody really needs but everyone wants.  It also justifies the extra eating and drinking that put fitness clubs and exercise sales in the black in January.

Quite a few years ago, I stepped off the “Put Christ back in Christmas” bandwagon.  The sooner we in the faith realize that we have lost the cultural Christmas, the better it is for us.  The season has taken on a life of its own, almost completely cut off from the remembrance of the Incarnation.  We in the church could pull totally out of the Christmas process and our absence wouldn’t be missed, except for the few who do like a good Christmas carol sing but any mall will provide some of that these days.

So, I actually run on two levels.  I live in the West–so I do the cultural celebration.  I brave the malls–once at least, although online shopping is working out quite well for me these days.  I make a list of suggestions for my family to get for me.  I don’t do the whole cultural bash because truthfully, since our kids grew up and the grandchildren live far away, it isn’t as much fun–there is something about new kids toys that really makes the cultural Christmas work for me.

But I also remember that the cultural bash has its roots in my faith and so look for ways within the process to remind myself of that.  The church decided very early that we should remember the Incarnation at this time of the year.  That decision was based on the reality that there already was a major cultural festival going on and the church wanted to give the faithful something to help them avoid some of the excesses of that cultural bash.

And now that the wheel has turned and we are back at the same point, we as believers need to be doing the same thing–looking at the cultural bash and picking and choosing what we can do that fits with the reality of our faith, while at the same time, looking for ways to remind ourselves that Christmas is about God coming into our lives in a very real and very significant way.

I know this is early to be talking about Christmas.  But it we wait until it hits us, we are too busy and stressed to pay attention to anything but surviving.  Now is a good time to plan and design our Christmas so that we can have a balanced cultural Christmas and a significant celebration of the Incarnation.

May the peace of God be with you.