Archive for November 24, 2013
For the feast of Christ the King
Category: Christ, feast days /
Praying for persecutors: Shaun of the Dead
In the opening scene of Shaun of the Dead, Shaun’s girlfriend Liz carefully and patiently explains to him that she would like to have a date with just the two of them, unaccompanied by his immature and boorish friend, Ed. Ed is Shaun’s best friend, and we sense from the beginning that honoring Liz’s request will be complicated.
Jesus’ commandment to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” reminds me a bit of that scene. Here we are trying to build a good relationship with God, and he keeps insisting on bringing obnoxious, unpleasant people to the party. In fact, he insists that we find them and bring them along too. Why on earth would we want to stand in God’s glorious presence with them? Surely he’s kidding about asking for mercy and compassion on their behalf? It’s completely unreasonable. Not possible. You’d have to be a saint.
The stumbling block, I suspect, is that our enemies seem less than human, and we imagine that we must feel love for them before we pray for them. Praying for them seems like doing them a good turn, and that offends our sense of justice.
But of course, justice is not what this is all about, is it? We were once enemies ourselves.
Henri Nouwen wrote, “As disciples of the compassionate Lord who took upon himself the condition of a slave and suffered death for our sake, there are no boundaries to our prayers.” 1 What a startling thought. There is no one we cannot pray for. No one we should not pray for. As disciples we are free to lift up anyone into God’s presence: the serial killer, the dictator, the Republicans and Democrats, the people who injure our loved ones, the people who cheat us and shame us and hurt just because they can.
Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. Pray for those who are less than human to you. There are no boundaries to our prayers or to the mystery of divine compassion.
- “Anchored in God through Prayer.” Soujourners 7 (April 1978):20-21. ↩
Proverbs: sayings of the wise
When I was a son with my father,
tender, the only one in the sight of my mother,
he taught me, and said to me,
“Let your heart hold fast my words;
keep my commandments, and live;
do not forget, and do not turn away from the words of my mouth.
Get wisdom; get insight.
Do not forsake her, and she will keep you;
love her, and she will guard you.
The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom,
and whatever you get, get insight.
Prize her highly, and she will exalt you;
she will honor you if you embrace her.
She will place on your head a fair garland;
she will bestow on you a beautiful crown.
Proverbs 4:3-9
The glory of young men is their strength, but the beauty of old men is their grey hair.
Proverbs 20:29
Sermons
Ministry on the Web: Jenee Woodard and The Text This Week
Jenee Woodward
Photo: Abingdon Press
If you aren’t familiar with Jenee Woodard and her website “The Text this Week,” then take a minute to read her inspiring story at Faith and Leadership. (I mean it. Really.) A graduate of Saint Paul School of Theology, Woodard was on the path to becoming an academic until her son was diagnosed with severe autism. When his needs changed her plans, she instead created and now runs one of the most visited Christian websites in America: Textweek.com. Though she aspired to a bookish and cloistered career as a scholar, God sent her instead to the mission field of the World Wide Web where she reaches hundreds of thousands of people.
“It is my ministry — or what I do with my life, as I explore what I think is my responsibility as a human being — to give more than I take, and to use my gifts for service to others, while giving myself a delightful new lens on texts and interpreters of texts.
“This is the heart of my own faith and of my task, as I see it, in the world.”
As I read the interview, I marveled that Woodard carried on this work for ten years before receiving any compensation That’s a very long time to keep saying “yes” to God’s call–especially if you consider what the internet looked like in August 1998 when she began the site.
The path of ministry can be wildly unpredictable. You can be on it and not know for sure you’ve been called. And if you are sure and you say, “Here am I. Send me!” you can’t count on being asked, “Where would you like to go?” In 1998, a site like TextWeek might have looked a bit like the ark in the back yard. To the world, Jennee Woodard might not have looked sufficiently credentialed or affiliated to do this work. It might have seemed like a crazy idea for a solitary layperson. And yet, she used her talents to minister to others, and God blessed her work.
Children of the Heavenly King
Photo via The Episcopal Diocese of Southwestern Virginia
I found myself thinking about this hymn today, I couldn’t tell you why. I learned it (though with a different tune) from my mother who was leading the children’s choir at the time. We sang it with our primary school voices, but the words are not really meant for children–they’re meant for those of us with a few years and some wear and tear. And they point to one of the reasons why having children in church is so important. We need to be reminded that God can see the sweetness adults still embody. We need to remember that, though we are not children, we are children of God.
When I was little and would start to leave the house looking dirty or unkempt, my mother would tell me, “I can’t let you go out looking like that. People will think that nobody loves you!” She of course, knew what I was like under the grime and disheveled hair. Not an orphan or a street urchin or a prodigal, but a beloved child with a home.
The choir of Wakefield Cathedral conducted by Jonathan Bielby
Tune: “Melling” by John Fawcett. Words: John Cennick
Children of the heavenly King,
As ye journey, sweetly sing;
Sing your Saviour’s worthy praise,
Glorious in his works and ways
We are travelling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod;
They are happy now, and we
Soon their happiness shall see.
Fear not, brethren; joyful stand
On the borders of your land;
Jesus Christ, your Father’s Son,
Bids you undismayed go on.
Lift your eyes, ye sons of light,
Zion’s city is in sight:
There our endless home shall be,
There our Lord in glory see
When the changes come, what will you take with you?
The newspaper was a great invention. I’ve spent hours and hours happily reading newspapers, and have recycled great quantities of newsprint in my day. My house is also full of vinyl records and CDs. But as surely you have noticed, journalism and the music business are not the same businesses they were twenty years ago. If you worked at a newspaper or in a record store back then, I’ll bet you don’t any more, even if you want to. The internet has changed where we get our news and our music, and how we keep up with our friends. When was the last time you sat down to have a leisurely visit on the telephone–just to catch up?
The Church is changing too. Membership is declining across the denominations. People are voicing frustrations. Asking questions. Trying new things. Church is happening in pubs and bars. The Methodists are debating whether Holy Communion can be offered online. More clergy have piercings and visible tattoos. The Pope is offering indulgences for being present via Twitter.
Of course, the Church has already gone through over 2000 years of changes, so we shouldn’t fear change. And we’ve always been a diverse bunch–especially since Paul started preaching to the Gentiles. So really, what’s the big deal? Church may look a little different in ten years. Not a problem. We’re not wearing hats and gloves any more either.
But the question for me is not one of adapting to fad or fashion. It’s about essence and accident. I think that something qualitatively different is happening to the Church because of the way technology and the internet allow us to form communities and share information. This feels bigger than hats and gloves, and more like the Reformation. There’s a Do-It-Yourself Zeitgeist that seems to be drawing some strength from the long-standing priesthood-of-all-believers debate. And there’s obviously a lot of frustration born out of the years of acrimonious culture wars. Sure there’s always been plenty of frustration, but now it’s getting 26 million hits on YouTube.
A friend of mine once lived in the Middle East where he and his wife would play a game: “If you have to get out with just what you can carry, what do you take?”
Lately I’m thinking we need to play that game in church. We’ve always said, “The Church is not a building.” So what is it? What is it now? What’s essential? Do we need buildings? Worship services? Education and spiritual formation opportunities? The Bible? The sacraments? Do we need clergy? Do we need denominations and affiliations?
I’m not saying this is the apocalypse or the death of the Church. Still, I see changes coming, and though people are plenty busy, very few seem to be getting ready for anything different. Instead I see a lot tips and tricks for using technology. I see church folks using Twitter and Facebook to broadcast the same information they’ve always broadcast. And instead of offering spiritual food to The Church Online, too many clergy only offer the opportunity to watch them talk to other clergy online. Why doesn’t the Church come up with a Big Idea instead of adopting a few new tools? Let’s ask ourselves, “Has your cell phone changed your life? How could it change your spiritual life? Where are people gathering online? Can the Church be a presence there?”
I wish that more people would think about the Church as a network where technologies can be used to facilitate the action of the Holy Spirit. I wish they would consider creating a “community…cloistered within a digital mesh that connects members to one another throughout each day.” I wish there were a little more hospitality and a little less sales.
I feel confident that God will find people wherever they are and however they gather. It’s the Church that needs to be more nimble and creative. We need to talk about what’s essential going forward. Otherwise, we’ll arrive in the future having packed our favorite watch and forgotten our shoes.
36 Righteous Saints
I don’t remember All Saints Day being part of my growing up. I don’t think I even knew it existed until I was an adult. My Protestant heritage has a complicated relationship with the whole idea of sainthood after that unpleasantry in the 16th century. For many folks, as soon as you put “St.” in front of someone’s name, you’re bringing up issues of sanctification, and access to God, and idolatry. Really, it’s best to just keep the “s” lower case.
So, on this Feast of All Saints I think I’ll keep things complicated and look to the Talmud (Sanhedrin 97b; Sukkah 45b).
There’s a Jewish legend that at all times and in each generation there are 36 righteous people, the Lamed Vav Tzadikim (from lamed, Hebrew for 30, and vav which is 6), without whom the world would cease to exist. These holy people are Hidden Ones, who do not themselves know that they are among the 36. They exemplify humility. Some say they justify humanity’s continued existence to God, like the righteous in Sodom for whom Abraham pleaded.
Since no one, not even the lamedvavniks know who belongs to the 36, then everyone should treat others and live their own life as if they might be one. A lamedvavnik is holy and humble, full of compassion, always praying for others, and always ready to greet the Divine. They live lives that glorify God and not themselves–which is one of the reasons you just never know.
Category: All Saints, feast days, Judaism, Presbyterian, saints / Tags: lamed vav tzadikim, lamedvavniks
Caught between the Pharisee and the Tax Collector
Charlie Chaplin: The Circus
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others:
“Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.”
This parable is a trap. A wonderfully constructed, well-laid trap.
Because the first temptation is to think, “God, I thank thee that I am not like the Pharisee,” but then we’re revealed as self-righteous. And as soon as we feel good about NOT saying “I thank thee that I am not like the Pharisee” then again, we’re self-righteous. Clearly the parable points towards the tax collector, but like a person baffled by a hall of mirrors, we see the tax collector but cannot reach him. We’re trapped by endless reflections of the self. How can we find our way out? How can we escape?
I think the answer is to look only at our relationship to God. That’s the real difference between the Pharisee who compares himself to others and the tax collector who cries, “Be merciful to me!” We get distracted when we look at others to see ourselves. Only in God’s light will we see the truth of our sins and know ourselves even as are known.
Prayer for healing
…Jesus is reported to have made the blind see and the lame walk, and over the centuries countless miraculous healings have been claimed in his name. For those who prefer not to believe in them, a number of approaches are possible, among them:
- The idea of miracles is an offence both to man’s reason and to his dignity. Thus, a priori, miracles don’t happen.
- Unless there is objective medical evidence to substantiate the claim that a miraculous healing has happened, you can assume it hasn’t.
- If the medical authorities agree that a healing is inexplicable in terms of present scientific knowledge, you can simply ascribe this to the deficiencies of present scientific knowledge.
- If an otherwise intelligent and honest human being is convinced, despite all arguments to the contrary, that it is God who has healed him, you can assume that his sickness, like its cure, was purely psychological. Whatever that means.
- The crutches piled high at Lourdes and elsewhere are a monument to human humbug and credulity.
If your approach to this kind of healing is less ideological and more empirical, you can always give it a try. Pray for it. If it’s somebody else’s healing you’re praying for, you can try at the same time laying your hands on him as Jesus sometimes did. If his sickness involves his body as well as his soul, then God may be able to use your inept hands as well as your inept faith to heal him.
If you feel like a fool as you are doing this, don’t let it throw you. You are a fool of course, only not a damned fool for a change.
If your prayer isn’t answered, this may mean more about you and your prayer than it does about God. Don’t try too hard to feel religious, to generate some healing power of your own. Think of yourself rather (if you have to think of yourself at all) as a rather small-gauge, clogged up pipe that a little of God’s power may be able to filter through if you can just stay loose enough. Tell the one you’re praying for to stay loose too.
If God doesn’t seem to be giving you what you ask, maybe he’s giving you something else.
Frederick Buechner, “Healing” in Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC.” Harper and Row, 1973.
