Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Thanksgiving 2008

Well, I figured since I posted my Fourth of July sermon and my Halloween sermon, it's only fair that I push my Thanksgiving message on you. So, for any readers who still check out this blog, here you go:

Identity Crisis

At tables across the country tomorrow, families and friends will share meals--many of them pausing beforehand to name a list of things for which they are thankful. For lots of folks, expressing gratitude may be more difficult this year, with the increasingly stressful economy where it is right before holiday time. I read a news story this week reminding us that all the recent company bailouts--however you feel about them--are leaving the poor behind. By so many measures, the number of people dealing with poverty is increasing, and the news article expressed doubt that economic bailouts of corporations would get much help to those at the bottom.
Regardless, I believe we still have much for which to be thankful. I, for one, still feel much gratitude for the fact that the election season is over. And of course, the results of the presidential election carry an additional strange, hard-to-define meaning for those of us in the United Church of Christ. However we feel about the winner, it’s hard to deny that the news headline on the United Church of Christ website the next day held special relevance for us: “20-year UCC member elected U.S. President.” Before anyone gets uncomfortable, this isn’t about the winner of the presidential election, but it is about us.
As we gather this evening to express thanksgiving, we know that’s not the only reason we hold this service here at Pilgrim Church. The black and white Pilgrim costumes should be enough to give that away. Part of why we gather this night is to honor our unique heritage as the denominational descendants of the Pilgrims who founded the Plymouth Colony, our special tradition that includes the Puritans of Massachusetts Bay, the rich history of Old South Church in Boston, a key role in the American Revolution and the early years of the Republic, the central event of the Amistad incident in our understanding of ourselves as a denomination, our historic commitments to the social causes of abolition and women’s empowerment, and even 200 years of existence as the dominant form of Christianity in New England from the arrival of the Mayflower in 1620 until the Irish potato famine of the 1840’s that first brought large numbers of Catholics to the United States. That period of church dominance included the time in which Congregationalism served as the official state church of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire, Vermont, and what became Maine.
Much has changed since that time. During my chaplain internship one summer in seminary, our group of students--which besides myself consisted of three Catholics and a Methodist--was assigned the task of preparing a worship service for the mid-summer retreat for chaplain interns in the St. Louis area. As we searched through ours, and each others’, denominational worship books for ideas, one of the Catholic students was looking through my UCC Book of Worship and laughed as she came across a line in one of the prayers: “Grant to the United Church of Christ a secure sense of our identity…” Coming from a Catholic perspective, she didn’t understand how a denomination wouldn’t have a sense of their own identity. How could we not know who we are?
That episode occurred in the summer of 2002. Much has also happened since that time. Looking back at just the few years since I graduated from seminary, we’ve seen the God Is Still Speaking initiative, our “Bouncer” commercial ads banned from the major TV networks, a controversial General Synod resolution supporting marriage equality, and the presidential campaign of Barack Obama that involved the only IRS investigation of an entire denomination, not to mention the very public media attention given to Jeremiah Wright, former pastor of our denomination’s largest church. After the networks declared Obama the winner on Election Night, I mentioned to a friend that if he continues to identify with the UCC, that means that the chairperson of the NAACP, the Executive Director of Americans United for Separation of Church and State, the chairperson of the Democratic Party, and now the President-Elect of the United States are all affiliated with the United Church of Christ. (Now, there’s a conspiracy for Fox News to look into.) In just the last six years, much has happened. Any folks who still claim to have never heard of the United Church of Christ clearly haven’t been paying attention to the world around them. Whether or not we’re comfortable with the public image of the UCC that has emerged, securing a sense of our identity does not seem to be a problem at the moment.
The question of identity is a funny thing. Identity can empower to overcome incredible obstacles, and it can also bind people to unhealthy and abusive situations. It creates bonds with the past, and also creates the temptation to stay stuck there. It can provide a vision behind which people can unite, and it can capture your mind along with your imagination, leading down a dark path we don’t see.
One of the clearest lessons of Christian history reveals the dangers of confusing our spiritual loyalty with the dominant culture. So much of the heart of the Gospel was sacrificed the day the Roman Emperor Constantine embraced the Christian faith. The struggle against powers and principalities became entirely spiritualized; surely Christians couldn’t be encouraged to defy a Christian Emperor. Even the early New England Congregationalists--despite their many honorable ventures--abused their powers as the culturally dominant force. Baptists were run out of Massachusetts because of their strange ways, groups of people were politically targeted as witches to execute in Salem, and of course, let’s not forget the increasingly hostile and bigoted attitudes the immigrant residents of New England showed the people who really had lived there for generations and who had been there first. (I always see more than a bit of irony anytime a non-Native American talks up immigration reform. I doubt the Pilgrims bothered to get proper work visas or green cards from the tribes on the Atlantic coast.)
The Book of Deuteronomy reminds us (in the New Revised Standard Version), “Take care that you do not forget the LORD your God, by failing to keep [God’s] commandments…When you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold is multiplied, then do not exalt yourself, forgetting the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, who led you through the great and terrible wilderness…Do not say to yourself, ‘My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth’” (8:11-17).
That idea is quite countercultural. Some might even call it un-American. These verses call us to account anytime we get all puffed up over our country’s tradition of rugged individualism, or our Puritan work ethic, or our marvel at American ingenuity, or our insistence on American exceptionalism. Yes, our ancestors worked hard. Yes, we work hard. But to think that’s the reason we have running water, DVD players, personal computers, video games, and cell phones while millions suffer in squalid poverty--that is an obscene way to talk about God. How can we possibly believe we deserve all our resources more than a starving child does? Is that how God works? Is that what the Bible tells us? Is that what it means to give thanks?
The truth is that the garbage that comes out of the mouths of the preachers of the prosperity gospel should sound much more offensive than any four letter word about some bodily function. The values that our society’s priorities reveal sure seem strange. When we are tempted to think that God has blessed us into prosperity, or power, or dominance, we would do well to remember Mary’s song from the Gospel of Luke, “’[God] has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. [God] has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; [God] has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty’” (vss. 51-53). When I see the incredible disparity of wealth between nations, I think we should probably stop asking God to bless America; God needs to bless some other countries for a while. How about God blessing Haiti, or the people of Cuba? The people of Iraq sure could use some of that blessing, and certainly so many in Sudan need God’s blessings more than we do. We see how Americans handle material blessings when the CEO’s of the “Big Three” automakers fly their private jets to Washington to ask for a bailout and even ride in their own limousines when traveling to and from the Capitol building. Our political leaders--from both major parties--may want to bless corporations like Citigroup, but God does not. While I believe it is true that God loves all, the stories we find repeatedly in scripture tell us that God does indeed take sides, and that God always takes the side of the oppressed, the outcast, the exploited, the displaced, the poor. In the Bible, God never takes the side of the powerful, the rich, those with earthly might, and those who assume they alone always possess God’s blessings.
Thanksgiving is quite a time to celebrate our identity, and indeed a time to give thanks to God. Our Christian identity includes a commitment never to accept a power structure as blessed by God in which suffering is permitted while those on top grow more prosperous; that’s what makes the Kingdom of God other than what we have now. And let us not fall into the trap of believing thanksgiving means we deserve the abundance we have. True thanksgiving calls us to see that all are God’s gifts, so that we may use them as part of God’s Mission. After all, it is God who liberates us; it was God who led us--and leads us still--through the great and terrible wilderness. Any blessings God grants are so that we may be a blessing to all, especially to those who appear to be without such blessing. That’s what giving thanks really means. Thanks be to God.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

A Theology of Halloween

For anyone interested, and for those who never knew there could be such a thing, I give you this Sunday's Halloween sermon:

Love vs. Fear
Well, does anyone know what Friday is? That’s right, it’s Halloween! As many of you know, Halloween is my very favorite holiday of all. I love seeing the costumes and decorations, I love watching scary movies, and I love hearing a really good ghost story. Most of this stuff doesn’t have much to do with working in the church, though. In fact, many Christians would find it strange that a pastor likes Halloween so much--and even more so, there are some who think a Christian embrace of such a holiday is inappropriate. The decorations and stories and many of the costumes of this festival have to do with images of fear, after all, and things of the darkness are not to be celebrated in the minds of many.
I can see that point. Many people respond to Halloween differently. In college, one of my friends thought it would be fun to go to a Halloween party as a ghost--not anything fancy, but your regular ole’ ghost. He took one of MY sheets, poked two holes in it for eyes and threw that thing right over his head. Yes, that ole costume. It was quite interesting what happened when we went to the party. He decided he wouldn’t speak to anyone, but kept going up to different groups at the party and just stood there. Here’s the crazy thing--instead of the people becoming uneasy at this non-speaking ghost, everyone assumed he was part of the group. He was one of the most popular guys at the party, and he didn’t even utter a word.
The following year, I decided I was going to try something like that. I had an all-black costume that was comprised mostly of a robe and a hood. But the hood included cloth that went over my face, so that I could see out, but no one could see who I was. The costume shrouded me in darkness, literally. Well, I thought, I’ll try what Keith did the year before and have some fun with this. So, I went to a party that year and also wouldn’t talk. I went up to various groups and just stood there. I did not get the same reaction. I got strange looks, groups actually moved away from me, and everyone’s unease showed in their eyes. Everyone assumed I was not part of their group, but a stranger.
After that night, I concluded that there are two possible explanations. Maybe I didn’t use enough deodorant. But I think more likely, the costumes themselves created different reactions. The sheet ghost costume is childlike, innocent, familiar, the same costume worn by several characters in the Charlie Brown Great Pumpkin cartoon. It was an image of comfort. The all black robe and hood, however, reminiscent of a grim reaper, was more disconcerting to people. Folks found it more threatening. It struck a note of fear.
Without stretching the analogy too far, I hope, I see in this story two images of God; or at least, two ways we as people of God imagine and respond to God. It’s a broad generalization I know, but often we see either a God of fear or a God of love. Sometimes, even the differences between the Old and New Testaments are unfairly described in this way, although I see both images of God present in both testaments. I think we know both these Gods. The God of fear is the one who harshly punishes even the slightest misdeed, who demands a blood sacrifice to atone for people’s sins, who will get you if you’re not good enough, and who might also condemn you to eternal hell when you die, for the same reason. The God of love, on the other hand, seems to be the God of our best hopes--the God of forgiveness and grace and peace. The God who promises a comforting presence, always, and who always offers another chance. While both are sides of God described in scripture, usually people and churches operate out of worshiping one or the other, even despite whichever God to whom they give lip service.
While we often think of God in one of these two categories--love or fear--it should come as no surprise that history shows human treatment of each other also reflecting one of these two mindsets. I believe that if we truly worship and celebrate a God of love, then we will tend to act toward others in a similar way, and if we worship and dread a God of fear, then we treat our neighbors likewise. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus--quoting verses from the Hebrew Scriptures--also makes this connection, and makes abundantly clear which God is his Father. “Jesus answered, ‘”Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and the most important commandment. The second most important commandment is like it: “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.” The whole Law of Moses and the teachings of the prophets depend on these two commandments’” (Mt. 22:37-40). In Mark’s version of this event, Jesus begins his answer by quoting more of these Old Testament verses, “Jesus answered, ‘The first is, “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one…”’” (12:29). The God of judgment is one with the God of love, because the judgment of God always springs out of God’s love for the least and the last. But love, and not fear, is the basic element of what God is--that is what Jesus is reminding his listeners here.
Unfortunately, as clear as Jesus was, human history shows us time and time again worshiping the God of Fear. When the Pilgrims first landed, a mutual trust and respect for the local residents gave way to fearing “the heathen natives of this land” as the First Thanksgiving Proclamation in 1676 calls them. In 1692, fear of superstition combined with intentional manipulation by an elite group of community leaders led to the arrest of almost 150 people as witches in the Salem area of Massachusetts, and the execution of 20 of them. (Disturbingly, there are some historians who still contend there really was witchcraft going on in Salem.) In the 1950’s, fear of “un-American” political thought led to accusations, humiliations, and arrests, and a battering of the Revolution’s foundation of free thought and expression. These are all services of worship to the God of Fear.
These actions are not compatible with following Jesus and Jesus’ God. One commentator reminds us that “true religion springs from love of God,” and, “Its test is not what people feel but what they do. Genuine love of God inevitably leads to a second behavior: love of neighbor.” But we as a people continue to do otherwise, even in our own time. The purpose of terrorism, for instance, is to cause people to react with terror, to respond out of fear. Our actions as a nation since September 11 have shown that terrorism has won, so far. Our government’s entire agenda--whether foreign or domestic--has been borne out of fear or its perpetuation. We have seen warrant-less phone tapping, domestic spying, walls to protect us from foreigners, and political fear-mongering. The American people have responded with hate crimes against Muslims and Arabs, hate speech against Islam and immigrants, and yet more charges of ill-defined un-Americanism. Nevermind a prolonged war in a land that had nothing to do with the attacks on September 11. The God of Fear continues to demand--and receive--due tribute.
In a perfect example of the judgment of God based in love, the letter of 1 John reminds us again, “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate [others] are liars” (1 Jn. 4:20). Another scholar asks about the bottom line, “How in real life, do we love? How, in the middle of a war, can we love our enemies? How do we illuminate the love of God and neighbor as a way of life?” This author goes on, “An oft-cited prophetic passage, Micah 6:8, tells us exactly how to love: struggle for justice; show mercy, kindness; walk humbly with God. Justice-making constitutes the how of God’s love whether we experience it between intimate lovers and friends or between ourselves and our enemies in contexts of conflict, including war.”
We are not following the God of Jesus, the God of Love, when we label others as outside the group. Whether it’s a “heathen native” of the mid-17th century, a “witch” in 1690’s Salem, a slave-lover in the antebellum South, a 1950’s communist on McCarthy’s list, or a Muslim who hates freedom or a filthy Arab or a dirty homosexual or an illegal or weak on terrorism; these labels are nothing more than slanders, demonizations, and continued tribute to that almighty God of Fear. In no uncertain terms, these reactions--springing from the fear of difference--are not Christian. That earlier scholar adds, “But we can be lovers of God and even of our enemies [remember that teaching from Jesus?] if we can loosen the grip of fear and its pathetic spawn, the demonization of enemies as unworthy of God’s love. The simple recognition of our enemy’s humanity, however distorted by violence it may have become, may crack open a door through which we can imagine meeting the enemy as a brother or sister.” In other words, one of the things Jesus makes clear in today’s gospel passage is that Christians have no business following a god of fear.

I got into a lively discussion at a dinner party once suggesting that Halloween is a more Christian holiday than Christmas. The way we celebrate Christmas is all about buying things for those who don’t need them and by over-indulging ourselves in the name of Jesus while the poor of the world continue to suffer. Halloween, besides serving as the only time many people bother to go up to their neighbors’ houses and actually interact with them, also holds deeper meaning. It is not about being afraid, believe it or not. It is rather about laughing in the face of fear and the things we fear: darkness, death, superstition, and monsters of every kind. Now, which sounds more Christian to you?
May we celebrate Halloween in its fullest sense, mocking the god of fear while meeting our neighbors face-to-face. Maybe we should even do those things year-round. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Independence Day

Regarding the upcoming observance of Independence Day, I thought it appropriate to share the thoughts of this Sunday's sermon:

Confessions of a Pastor on Independence Day
There is a yard sign on the east side of Willmar--I know that’s pretty far away; Kim and I joke that when we go further than Hwy. 71 in Willmar, we know we’re really out of town--but there is a sign right on Hwy. 12 there that reads in bold letters, “America--love it or leave it.”

That sign always makes me cringe. Sometimes, I try to think of something clever to yell at the sign as we drive by, but somehow, yelling at inanimate objects doesn’t seem very sophisticated. I find the sign offensive, because I believe it intends to claim that any criticism of the United States is unpatriotic, disloyal, or treasonous. I could stand up here and try to explain how the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution is designed to allow for governmental criticism, because our country’s founders wisely understood that political power without criticism becomes power unchecked, and furthermore that if one were to take the Bill of Rights as a whole, the natural conclusion would be that it is meant to encourage dissent as patriotic obligation. Moreover, I could even tack on the famous quote by Benjamin Franklin--often called the “First American”--that “the first duty of every citizen is to question authority.”

But, despite my pretensions otherwise, I am no constitutional scholar. I am a Christian pastor. My vocation requires me not to look at the practices of our government and society through the lens of the Constitution or the principles of the Revolution (principles, by the way, that apparently allowed one in every five people across the colonies--that’s north and south--to be legally owned as property), but to proceed with commitment to discerning the will of God as revealed in the Gospel, even if that leads to criticism that is heard as disloyal, unpatriotic, and treasonous. I wish I could say that a view from that angle makes things more clear, bringing into sharp focus the difference between righteousness and sin, between right and wrong. But it doesn’t. It actually makes such discernment more difficult.

Scripture’s attitude toward earthly power is varied at best. The birth of the Hebrew nation takes place when slaves put their trust in the sovereignty of God instead of the Egyptian pharaoh. But after the Exodus and the time in which the Twelve Tribes were ruled by the Judges, the Hebrew Scriptures appear to become quite comfortable with a king being chosen to rule on behalf of God, and in God’s name. However, when the monarchy strayed from God’s commandments--as it so often did--the prophets arose to criticize their government in bombastic and inflammatory ways. Eventually, the Hebrew kingdoms were conquered, and the New Testament opens with an oppressive, authoritarian Roman Empire ruling the Mediterranean world and on its way to rising to even more power. This situation, in turn, fuels 1st century hopes for a Jewish Messiah, who--like Moses--will again deliver the people from bondage. It would seem that the Christian New Testament might be more unified in its approach to earthly authority, but we read in Paul’s Letter to the Romans the admonition, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment” (13:1-2). And yet, we find in the Book of Revelation, the Roman Empire imagined as the Beast that ruthlessly consumes the righteous. The fact of the matter is that rendering unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and rendering unto God what is God’s is not a compromise for a people who believe that the “earth is the LORD’s and all that is in it” (Ps. 24:1).

The truth is that Christian pastors--and other people of faith--all over the land find it a challenge (to say the least) to integrate their vocation of faith with their American citizenship. If my ultimate loyalty is to the God revealed in Jesus Christ, then I have trouble pledging allegiance to a flag, or to the republic for which it stands, regardless of how good it may or may not be. You might not realize it, but it is a common struggle among mainline pastors how to address civic national holidays like the Fourth of July.

I feel like this internal conflict is further intensified within our own faith tradition--a tradition in which stands Zion Reformed Church (now Zion Reformed United Church of Christ) of Allentown, Pennsylvania where the Liberty Bell was hidden in 1777 to protect it from British plans to melt it down. A tradition in which Old South Congregational Church (also now known as Old South Congregational United Church of Christ) of Boston, Massachusetts stands, where the Boston Tea Party was planned in 1773. It is a tradition in which stands the Battle of Lexington-Concord in 1775, the opening battle of the American Revolution that was sparked by the British manhunt for two Congregationalists by the names of Sam Adams (who had taken the lead in planning and executing the Boston Tea Party) and John Hancock (who would serve as President of the Continental Congress when American independence was declared and therefore had the honor of being the first to sign the Declaration of Independence in July of 1776).

Ours is also the same faith tradition that joined with others in speaking out against the official legality of racial segregation and American imperial policy in Vietnam. It is the same tradition whose leader was arrested last year in front of the White House for protesting similar policies in Iraq and who has endorsed the Campaign Against Torture that condemns the immorality behind our government’s treatment of its enemies. (This leader has noted with both humor and seriousness that he is the first President of the UCC not to be invited to the White House.) And this faith tradition is the only religious denomination in U.S. history to be investigated by the Internal Revenue Service. What we may not realize is that all of these actions, whether from colonial days or periods within our own memory, violated the strictest sense of the words we find in the 13th chapter of the Letter to the Romans and have all been called disloyal, unpatriotic, and treasonous. Of course, so it was with Moses and the prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures, as well as any New Testament Christian who refused to acknowledge the Emperor as Lord, Savior, and God.

To speak in terms of ultimate loyalty is both bold and dangerous. It is to reject any notion of “both-and” and opt decisively for “either/or.” The dilemma of the Christian gospel is its demand for ministry to the “both-and,” while at the same time showing that loyalty can be to only one. We cannot serve two masters as Jesus reminds us in Matthew’s gospel; we cannot serve both God and mammon, and neither can we proclaim both Christ and Emperor as Lord. This is true regardless of which candidate or what party is in office. Some of you may know the name Jim Wallis, a minister who heads up the group Call for Renewal and its journal Sojourners. A few years ago, he became better known for writing a popular book entitled God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get It. But in an earlier work, The Soul of Politics, he warns of the danger of misplacing ultimate loyalty. He writes, “Both conservative and liberal religion have become culturally captive forces that merely cheer on the ideological camps with which each has identified. And religion as political cheerleader is invariably false religion.”

We’ve probably been taught the secular value of religious freedom--many of our ancestors came to North America to escape conflict fueled by religious differences. What we may not have heard is that there are theological reasons why the church should resist becoming one with the state. People of faith, as well as people of no faith, must always be free to criticize the government, to lift up a prophetic voice, to speak truth to power. I believe we are called always to live out our ultimate loyalty (apart from the state) and yet to engage the political process and forces of society in the name of the God of peace, justice, and love. I believe Christians are called to be “permanent dissenters,” never confusing our earthly citizenship with our loyalty to the Gospel; to be in the world, but not of the world. Another pastor writes, “Someone has said that the best citizen is not the one who says, ‘My country, right or wrong,’ but the one who strives always to direct his or her country to the right.” And I believe that holds true no matter what flag happens to be flying over our heads. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Religious Freedom

We got a late start to our radio show on Monday, but those who waited patiently enough heard our discussion about commitment to religious freedom. The question I posed went something like "Should we (whatever 'we' means) care about religious freedom in other countries, even when it's not our religion?"

To sum up, for me the answer is a resounding yes. Not only do I think such a commitment falls under Jesus and Paul's reminder to love our neighbors as ourselves, but I went so far as to claim that to care only about persecution of one's own religion is hypocrisy.

If you tuned in this week, you may have heard the flurry of phone calls we received in the last few minutes. All the calls were quality, but one particular caller really piqued my interest in having another discussion. To paraphrase, this caller said that religion--and I think he meant all religion--breeds intolerance.

I lightly remarked that I thought intolerance by religious institutions was certainly a widespread phenomenon, but, naturally, I was reluctant to admit that the original teachings of religious figures (Jesus, for example) spurred intolerance. But as with all things on the show and on this blog, disagreement is welcome.

The truth is that religion--like any other institution--can be used for good or for ill. Any serious glance at history shows how religious institutions, including Christianity, fosters intolerance. It's easy to see how much popular religion, especially fundamentalism, leads to intolerance. But a more in-depth look may also bring the other side to light: for many years, the church was the center of learning; in the American experience, many Northern churches were at the center of the abolition movement (I would be remiss not to mention the Congregationalists' wide participation in that movement); and during the civil rights struggles of the 1950's and '60's, black churches were often the base of operations for assaults on Jim Crow, discrimination, and inequality. To make the claim that religion always breeds intolerance, one has to explain the work of the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.

All in all, I think this week's topic really brought out some good discussion; I'd love to keep it up!

Next week will be our season finale, and I think the caller's comments about religion begs the question for our topic on 5-19: what is the point of Christianity?

Always looking forward to some spirited conversation, this is Pastor Chris signing off.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Christianity's Biggest Threat

We tried to go after a pretty big topic on the radio show this past Monday--"What is the biggest threat to Christianity?" A few interesting answers were thrown on the table, including disillusionment with religion and religion continuing to come to terms with modern ways of thinking.

I never really explained what I think is the biggest threat to Christianity: fundamentalism. One former Southern Baptist had this to say: "The inclination to conserve the creativities of the past can become such a compelling obsession that nothing new can ever pop into our heads. One of the tragedies of fundamentalism, religious or political or social, is that it is a joyless, argumentative, dogmatic, quarrelsome, fighting neurosis that squelches freedom and quenches creativity. The Devil of fundamentalism scowls and frowns and complains and opposes and bickers and moans and maneuvers and manipulates and schemes and plots but seems incapable of achieving the freedom to enjoy a hearty laugh. Revealed religion, we bear in mind, calls for creativity as well as conservation" (quoted in The Christian Century).

Fundamentalism claims that every word of scripture is inerrant and comes from God. In my view, this approach to the Bible raises its words to the role of divinity themselves. I believe that scripture springs from humanity's struggle to search for God and the expression of an understanding of God. To speak of the Bible as the inerrant Word of God is nothing else than idolatry--an idolatry of the Bible, in which the words of scripture take the place of God.

Our denomination (the United Church of Christ) has put on an entire evangelism campaign based on the slogan "God is still speaking." To make this claim means that God's words are more than just what scripture records. It means that God did not stop speaking sometime in the century after Jesus' crucifixion, but continues to seek us out now, just as the Spirit of God's voice sought out the biblical authors in ancient times. Sometimes we get it wrong today, and sometimes they got it wrong back then, too. Our God is a living God; to limit the message of God to words written down by ancient writers turns God into a dead deity, speaking words conditioned by a culture that no longer makes sense to most of us.

It is no news that fundamentalism leads to intolerance, extremism, hatred, fear, and even war. For me, there is simply no way of reconciling this way of reading scripture with the message of the God we find in Jesus Christ who reminded us to love our neighbors as ourselves.

-Pastor Chris

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

The Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright

As long as I tried to put off talking about another political news story, on the April 6 radio show I discussed the Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright, former pastor of my denomination's largest congregation--Trinity United Church of Christ.

Here are some random thoughts I e-mailed to a friend after the Rev. Dr. Wright's comments hit the airwaves:

"The fact that single lines are taken out of context
and run on air over and over again is, of course,
terrible. But I was more disappointed with the public's
response--why can't we Americans accept the
possibility that the rest of the world may have
legitimate reasons to dislike us? Why do so many of
us insist on the fantasy that America does no wrong?
It's unfortunate that the debate in the media has been
over Senator Obama's acceptance/rejection of Wright, and not
over the accuracy of Wright's comments.

"One more rant--too many Christians think the point of
religion is ONLY to comfort, and that's simply not
borne out by scripture. If God is a God of love, then
God is also a God of justice (which is merely love
applied in a societal context), which means that those
who sincerely try to speak God's message will
necessarily have to confront those in power, at one
time or another. The prophets of the Hebrew
Scriptures (Old Testament) were full of challenge to
society and those in power when they spoke on behalf
of the God of love, and Jesus didn't exactly avoid
ticking people off either..."

So, there you have it. That's all I have to say on the subject. For more information on the denomination's response, you can visit the website of the United Church of Christ at http://www.ucc.org/news/responding-to-wright.html
The news section also contains many other related stories.

Lamenting that this political campaign season is way too long,
Pastor Chris

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Church & State

Well, we delved into the world of politics yet again on this past Monday's show. I reported a recent news item concerning the Internal Revenue Service's investigation of the United Church of Christ (the denomination in which I serve). The UCC's tax-exempt status has been called into question due to Senator Barack Obama's speech at the 50th Anniversary General Synod, held in June of last year in Hartford, Connecticut.

If you'd like to read the original story reported by United Church News, here's the link: http://www.ucc.org/news/obama-speech-in-2007-prompts-1.html
(One item of historical trivia--according to what I've seen, this appears to be the first time in American history that an entire religious body's tax-exempt status has been called into question.)

Of course a debate has begun over whether Senator Obama's speech constituted political activity for the UCC. Since I was present at this event (and actually sat directly behind the President and General Minister of the UCC, the Rev. John Thomas), I wanted simply to reiterate a couple points made in the news article. First, Senator Obama has been a member of the UCC for twenty years. Secondly, he was invited to speak on how his faith informs his public service well before he had declared himself to be a presidential candidate. Thirdly, he was one of 60 presenters at General Synod to speak on how faith intersects with vocation.

(On one interesting note that I saw from my unique seat--at one point, when Senator Obama made a statement that included some promise that began "When I'm President," both the Rev. John Thomas [president of the UCC] and Edith Guffey [Associate General Minister of the UCC and administrator of General Synod] looked at each other and rolled their eyes. I got the sense that they wished Senator Obama hadn't said that.)

Now, having given you all this information, I'm more interested in the bigger question posed by the situation. What is the appropriate relationship between religious bodies and government? I wholeheartedly believe in freedom of religion--including separation of church and state. But I also believe that the church should be free to speak from their values on issues relevant to social and political policy.

So, in simpler terms, where is the balance? Is it currently too far in one direction or another? Should tax-exempt status be dependent on status of political activity?

There are two extremes I abhor in this debate, and these two poles highly inform my thinking on these issues. First, theocracy is unacceptable. There are those on the religious right who explicitly claim this should be a Christian nation. For example, Randall Terry has been quoted by the Indiana News Sentinel as saying, "Our goal is a Christian nation. We have a biblical duty, we are called by God to conquer this country. We don't want equal time. We don't want pluralism." That's scary. The fact of the matter is that theocracy and democracy do not mix. Period.

The other extreme is to internalize religion as relevant only for personal or individual spirituality and salvation. This may be true for some, but I believe that Christian faith calls for much more. Much of what Jesus taught was grounded in images of the "Kingdom of God." Now, many choose to interpret this as a heavenly afterlife, but that's a misreading. When Jesus points to God's reign, he contrasts it with the current regime (in his case the Roman Empire), in which violence makes peace, victory comes from conquest, enemies are to be scorned and executed, and the poor are to be exploited in business as usual. I believe that Christians are called to work for Christian values actually based on Christ's teachings (which appears to be a novel concept for some): love enemies, honor the poor, love your neighbor, challenge the powers that maintain the status quo.

I believe it was Gov. Tim Kaine of Virginia who once said that religion and politics come from the same wellspring: the difference between what is and what should be. It's a great sentiment, but one that fails to lay to rest all the questions we've raised. This debate is far from going away, and in a democracy, that's a good thing.

Out of hot wind for today,
Pastor Chris

Monday, February 25, 2008

Lenten Temptations

On last Monday's show, we talked a little about the tradition of giving something up for Lent. Customarily, this practice of self-sacrifice is thought to bring one closer to God. I suggest, however, that this gets at only half of the Great Commandment to love God with heart, soul, mind, and might and to love your neighbor as yourself. Seeking to draw closer to God without including your neighbor in the equation simply misses half the boat.

Instead, I mentioned on the show, I believe that a better Lenten discipline of self-sacrifice should lead to some benefit for neighbor or for creation. In other words, just giving up chocolate for Lent is at one level, but cutting down on travel by gasoline is a form of self-sacrifice that helps the greater good (in this case, by helping to preserve God's creation). Another example might be giving up (non-fair trade) coffee; the self-sacrifice is still achieved, and yet love for neighbor (this time exploited farmers) is also expressed.

So, as I like to ask on the show, what do you think? Do the practices of self-sacrifice help you grow closer to God? Is simple individual spiritual growth enough for a Lenten journey? Should scripture's command to love neighbor along with loving God be taken just as seriously during Lent?

Monday, February 11, 2008

Religion, Superstition, and Science

On this morning's show, we talked again about the relationship between religion and science, with a particular view toward the contentions raised by evolution--natural selection, creationism, intelligent design, etc.

I've shared my views on this issue with the Benson community a couple times through letters to the editor of the local newspaper. Essentially, I believe that the Bible--including the stories we find in Genesis--were never intended to serve as a science text. As I've pointed out, the first two chapters in Genesis don't even agree with each other concerning the process and order of creation. That's because they are two different stories, written at two different periods of time, by (at least) two different authors.

In the last few centuries, our culture has increasingly made the mistake of confusing truth with fact. Facts are measurable, observable, and provable. Truth goes beyond facts. Truth is about meaning. It can be found in facts, but also in metaphors, symbols, and myths.

You will not find facts regarding the creation of the world in the Book of Genesis. When the stories were composed, scientific evidence was neither extant nor important. Now we do have evidence, and we have theories--developed through scientific method--based on that evidence. However, you may find in the Book of Genesis a truth that God brings order out of chaos, that God sustatins the world, and that we are created in God's image.

There is little more that I can add to this very old discussion. It is a misunderstanding to caricature science as in the business of myth-busting religious truths; religion and science are about two different ways of attempting to explain the world. They can and should be compatible, but they are different and also should be.

What makes the current debate so alarming is that for too many Christians, science is seen as an enemy. As a result, our country's current administration has adopted anti-science views as part of policy. Official tours of the Grand Canyon, for example, no longer address the amount of time it would take for such a geological feature to form. And global warming--a proven phenomenon--remains to be taken seriously by our current leaders.

This is extremely dangerous. There are facts and evidence-derived understandings that hold consensus in the scientific community that religion must come to terms with. The earth is much older than 6,000-10,000 years. Genetically, we have more than 98% in common with our nearest evolutionary relatives. Humankind is having a massive negative impact on the planet, and if we don't change our collective behavior drastically, then we will destroy God's creation. These are all things we should accept, regardless of whatever our interpretation of sacred texts may be.

On the radio show last week, Pastor Steve Rheingans and I talked a little about supersition and folklore. We never really arrived at a defintion of supersition, and where superstition differs from religion.

However, I believe that when religion denies solid science, it ceases to be religion and slides into superstition. Many Christians, including our government, have fallen into this trap.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Religious Diversity

In a sermon just a few months ago, I cited a couple facts from Diana Eck's A New Religious America (2001): 1) There are presently more than three hundred temples in Los Angeles, home to the greatest variety of Buddhists in the world; 2) There are more American Muslims than there are American Episcopalians, Jews, or Presbyterians; and 3) The U.S. has become the most religiously diverse country in the world.

In light of this week being the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, I asked on Monday's radio show why so many of us are afraid of religious diversity. I claimed that religious diversity is not only a fact of American life (as shown by Diana Eck's book), but that it is a GOOD THING, and it's been a part of American life from the beginning. (Was not the "First Thanksgiving" an interfaith gathering?)

So, as I like to ask, what do you think? Is religious diversity a good thing? Why do so many Americans--specifically American Christians--find it threatening? How do scripture's call to welcome the stranger and Jesus' reminder to love our neighbor play into relating to folks of other faiths? And finally, what does our state of inter-religious understanding mean for the U.S. as a society?

(In case there are local people in Benson who don't see relevance to any of these questions, let us recall that Minnesota has the distinction of sending the first known Muslim person as a representative to the U.S. Congress--Keith Ellison.)

Friday, January 18, 2008

"Christian" Advertising

I know it's been quite a while since my last post. I never got around to posting anything on various Christmas-themed topics I had in mind. (You know how that time of year gets.)

But it's a new year, and time for a new post. On the radio show this past week, we talked about the use of Christian symbols in business advertising. Perhaps you've seen the Christian fish on a billboard here and there, or even received a business card with the fish or the cross printed on it. (I know I have.) In a nutshell, I explained that I find the practice disgusting.

In a similar manner, it was once considered disrespectful to use the American flag in advertising. Of course, that guideline seems to have been widely forgotten. Is the same thing happening to symbols of Christianity?

Using a Christian symbol does not tell me one thing about any so-called "Christian" values you or your business possesses. It tells me nothing about your commitment to welcoming strangers or loving enemies, honoring creation or serving the poor. (The current inhabitant of the White House--among the most vocally Christian of any U.S. president--is a case in point.) What it does tell me is that you're willing to advertise with religious imagery to make a buck. Sounds a bit like making a graven image to me.

As I mentioned on Monday's radio show, if you hand me a business card with a Christian symbol on it, it will find its way to the trash can. If your business has a billboard that exploits religious symbols, I will make a point of not patronizing your establishment.

But that's enough of what I think. Any thoughts on the matter? Is it really exploitation to use religious imagery in this manner? Am I just too opinionated as I frequently am? Chime in and let me know!

-Pastor Chris