Christmas Reflections 2021

Jesus came into the same world we live in, with the same pressures and fears and brokenness. He was born in an occupied land, a province of the Roman empire. Like us, the nation in which he was born was occupied by oppression, injustice, and violence. He was born as an outcast. There was no room for him in the inn.

We who have come to know Jesus, who have become his followers and have a taste of God’s reign, are not surprised by how the Messiah and Savior came into the world, how he came to us vulnerable as an infant born in a stable. Everything about his birth points to his life as a whole. He came to outcasts, to the poor, the broken, the sick, the leper, the deaf, and the blind. He came to those that the self-righteous put on their list of sinners. He did not come to condemn people, but to seek and to save the lost.

If we have experienced God’s grace through Messiah Jesus, if we who were lost are now found, we know this is the way God is. We are not surprised that the Savior’s birth is announced to shepherds in the field, rather than to those in positions of wealth and power or to religious leaders who make much of their righteousness and talk down to others.

Shepherds were among those at the bottom rung of society and as far as the religious leaders were concerned, they were ritually unclean. The announcement of the Savior’s birth is made to them. Is not this the way it is with God our Rescuer? God proclaims good news to those who have been marginalized. Our Liberator comes to us in our brokenness and need.

Shepherds in the field “keeping watch over their flock by night” are told that “this will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” The sign that this child is the liberator the world needs is that he is wrapped in rags and lies in an animal trough. And this is good news for us!

God our Savior, who comes to us in Jesus, comes where we are, in our low places, when things have gone wrong, when there is no room for us, when everything has broken down. In fact, when we are at our most vulnerable, most broken, we know, right then and there, that rescue and liberation is present for us.

Of course, when we are full of ourselves and thinking we have it together pursuing life on our own terms, our salvation is still near, but we hardly know it or experience it—until we are knocked off our high horse and perhaps blinded like Paul on the road to Damascus. He went from being full of himself and his self-appointed mission to being vulnerable, broken, and open. At that point he started to let God his Liberator direct his steps, and his mission completely changed.

Jesus described this spiritual reality. He said, “The humble are exalted and the exalted are humbled”—which is good news for both the humble and the exalted. The Savior meets us where we are. God will bring us down from our high horse in order to get us to a place where we will receive what God gives. And when we have hit rock bottom, God will raise us up. Either way it is grace. God’s grace is sufficient in every situation and time of need.

Because God has come to be with us in Christ Jesus, we are finding that we can rejoice in all circumstances. God our saviour is near, whatever we face. With the shepherds on that first Christmas eve, we join “a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!'”

Filed under: Grace, Mercy, Society

Breaking the Vicious Cycle of White Backlash

Critical Race Theory has been around since the 1970s in higher education. While its fundamental tenets may help teachers with their understanding of the subtleties of racism in America, it is not taught as a discipline in elementary schools and high schools. Nevertheless, across the country, in order to leverage the White vote, it has been depicted, by politicians, as being taught at the elementary level.

Republican Glenn Youngkin, in the Virginia governor’s race, was substantially behind in the polls until he started talking about banning critical race theory in schools. Independents, in particular, started to swing in his direction. The affect of his message was not hindered by the fact that critical race theory was not taught in Virginia schools and that most parents did not know what the theory was. For a backlash, it was enough for White parents to know that it was about race. Youngkin’s message hooked into White parents’ fears that the issue of race would be treated in a way that did not conform to their (unacknowledged) White-centric view of America.

White parents expressed fear that their children would be made to feel bad about themselves if race and racism is made a subject of discussion in schools. So, what is the source of their fear? Is it White guilt? Is it the preservation of Whiteness? After all, race is a social construct of White supremacy. Historically, people of European descent divided up the one human race into different races with the “White” race at the top. Having distinguished ourselves from others—we who are White—do we feel that we need to protect our view of Whiteness—and our children’s view? How much do we, who are White, continue to be invested in our Whiteness as something distinct from the rest of the one human race? How much do we make Whiteness the norm by which others are measured? Isn’t it time to let go of our Whiteness, let go of distinguishing ourselves from others, raising ourselves up over others? (Of course, we cannot begin to let go without acknowledging that that is what we are doing.)

There is this further historical reality: Having distinguished ourselves from others, told ourselves that we were superior, we then acted badly, very badly, brutally badly. That has been the history of racism—a history of enslavement and genocide and its continued legacy. If being White (as distinctively different from others) continues to be important to us, then it is also critically important that we face what we as a White race have done.

There is help for this: It is called “confession of sin.” In the church that I served as pastor, as with many churches, we began our worship service with confession of sin. Sometimes a member would lead us in a prayer of confession, naming some of the sins we were prone to. Sometimes we used a general confession from our tradition:

We confess that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart: we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us.

Confession of sin means acknowledging our broken condition, our self-absorption, our mistreatment of others. With confession comes the experience of forgiveness and God’s mercy. When the confession of sin is a weekly exercise for a community of faith and a daily exercise for individuals, it takes away the avoidance of the darkness in our lives. Without confession, we must find another way to “not feel bad” and keep our children from not feeling bad about themselves. We have to stay in denial. There is no healing and freedom in denial.

There is healing and freedom in entering the darkness, including the darkness of history and the darkness of our own racism. There is healing and freedom in confessing our racism and repenting—turning from a false humanity to what is true. As Jesus said, “The truth will set you free!”

Filed under: Confession, RacismTagged with: ,

A Spirituality For Addressing Global Warming

We have been witnessing cataclysmic destruction by drought and fire in the West and wind and water in the Southeast and Northeast. Many in those regions are suffering multiple losses. Lives have been disrupted and some are grieving the loss of loved ones. What we are witnessing directs us to prayer and action.

Compassion for suffering individuals, however, must be coupled with care for the larger global reality of life on this planet. The warming of our globe that produces one disaster after another reveals something about our relationship to the home we share with other creatures. Our relationship to our natural environment has not been a healthy one. Global warming is a symptom of our sickness. We need to get on a path of healing.

The twelve steps for recovery from addiction can help us here. The first three will get us moving toward health:

  1. The first step is admitting that our life together on this planet has become unmanageable and we are powerless to help ourselves. (We certainly keep demonstrating our powerlessness.) We have treated nature as simply there for our personal benefit, operating with little regard for the life of other animals or for those coming after us. This dysfunctional relationship has made some of us very wealthy at the expense of others. We are stuck in this destructive orientation to our environment. The reality of the growing catastrophe has been unable to shake us from our lethargy. The first step is to admit this.
  2. The second step is to believe in reality greater than our own. Everything in the cosmos does not revolve around us. Coming to accept our finitude will help us.
  3. The third step is a spiritual step that is present in multiple religions across cultures. It has to do with relinquishing our lives to God, to the Higher Self, to Higher Power, to Incomprehensible Mystery. Where that happens, instigators for change arise—or in Jesus words, people, who are becoming light, begin to shine in the world.

It does not take many to instigate movements for change. It takes empowered people with vision who are committed to gain knowledge and act. Others will join. It has always been movements that have brought change, and they often have had a spiritual element to them—particularly movements that have had longevity. Substantial change in the way we address climate change will take massive non-violent global movements.

Where are Christians and churches in this movement for change? It depends on where they are on the road to recovery. If they have refused to recognize and respond to this global crisis, they must admit that their lives and the life of their congregations, as change agents in the world, have become unmanageable. Ultimately, the issue is where they have put their trust—no matter their religious talk. If they have been blinded by moralistic religiosity or prosperity religion or White nationalism or an anti-science attitude, they must admit to being ensnared by the typical idolatries of our society: self-righteousness, consumerism, racism, and arrogance. They need to be liberated by a power greater than their own.

The daily turn from idols to the “true and living God” frees us. We become open to the truth, including the truth of our global situation. In our turning to God, we receive vision and power to work for change, that is, to do justice, love mercy and live faithfully.

Filed under: Environment, SpiritualityTagged with: ,

Learning War No More

Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. (Isaiah 2:4)

The United States brought its 20-year war in Afghanistan to a close and proved again the futility of war for nation-building and constructive outcomes. After trillions of dollars were spent and thousands of civilians and soldiers maimed or killed, the United States left Afghanistan to the Taliban it had pushed out 20 years earlier. The speed at which the Taliban took over the nation revealed how little impact the United States had on governance in Afghanistan. More to the point, it demonstrated the futility of war for positive outcomes. (When we assume positive outcomes, it is only because we have no experience with the alternative: God’s governance.)

Nevertheless, nations will lift up swords against nations and the United States will continue its warring ways. We spend massive amounts of money on learning war—on building sophisticated weaponry and training warriors. And we have shown our propensity to use what we have learned.

What if we stopped studying war and started studying peacemaking? What if we spent the money we now spend for war preparation on humanitarian aid, building up communities, and on the ways that make for peace? What if, instead of making our security the paramount issue, we made doing justice our focus?

Of course, the radical nature of these thoughts means they are immediately dismissed by any in positions of government leadership. What is painful, is that many Christians are dismissive of such thinking. That has not always been true. In the first centuries of the church, Christian leaders spoke with one voice against war. It was assumed that followers of Jesus could not take up arms. They could not be soldiers. Former soldiers were to learn war no more: “The Lord in disarming Peter henceforth disarms every soldier.” (Tertullian, 155 AD – c. 220 AD)

Despite the state of Christianity today, there remain Christians who continue the tradition of the first centuries of the church. They take up the work of peacemaking and therefore do justice. They stand against war as a means of securing our lives and the life of our nation.

In witnessing for peace and against war, I have no illusions that any nation will give up warring. Capitalism and greed do not give up war as a means of securing possessions and gaining power. Enmity and fighting remain as ways of this world. Nevertheless, the followers of Jesus are to witness to God’s governance and God’s ways. They are to demonstrate, by their lives, a radically different way of living and of doing relationships. Love must abound among us. How else can others hear us, when we proclaim the good news Jesus proclaimed, “Turn to God, for the governance of God is near.”

We must keep before ourselves and others the radical message of Jesus:

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for justice’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Filed under: Discipleship, Justice, PeaceTagged with: , ,

Building True Community

Left to ourselves, we are failures at building true community. We prove this over and over again. We divide ourselves off from others in a great multiplicity of ways: by race, ethnicity, nationality, class, gender, sexual orientation, politics, ideology, religion, values, personal morality, self-interest, and so on. We form into groups, camps, and parties that go to war with each other. Both political conservatives and progressives can be quite smug about their own positions and demean each other. They can essentially write each other out of the realm of compassion. Our divisions cut us off from the humanity of others (and from our own humanity).

Eberhard Arnold, founder of a community deeply oriented to social justice in the early part of the last century, a community patterned after the church of Acts which shared all things in common, says this about their community: “What we are seeking together is not any dogma, any stringing together of religious words, but a power. The essence of this elementary power is love and unity, a love and unity that extends into the outermost aspects of life and action and work.” He was very clear about this power: “Only through the Holy Spirit, which comes upon us, are we enabled to achieve a unity of consciousness, which brings about a complete unanimity of thought, willpower, and emotional experience.”

There is no other source of true, abiding unity than the Spirit. Our divisions are the outcome of our alienation from God who is the source of our ability to be and remain in relationship. The unconditional love of God “poured into our hearts by the Spirit” makes true community a reality.

The fact that we see so little unity in the world, including in and among churches and religions, points to the deeply spiritual roots of our problem. In our alienation from God, we try every kind of foundation for our unity other than the foundation of the Spirit. Churches have attempted doctrinal unity and moral unity. They have attempted unity on the basis of a way of thinking, a way of interpreting sacred texts, and a way of acting. And then they have fought over these things and often tried to impose them on others.

Right now the Taliban, with their particular interpretation of the Koran, are prepared to impose their beliefs on an entire nation. There are forms of Christianity that attempt something similar, that promote the idea that Christians are to have dominion and therefore must move into positions of power in order to impose their theological and political constructs on others. Clearly, Jesus’ words about being servants and not lording it over others are ignored.

In our alienation from God, we run from the Spirit. We prefer churches founded on elements of our own making. What if the Spirit were poured out on us like the Spirit was poured out on the disciples on the Day of Pentecost in Acts or on those gathered at the Azusa Street Mission in 1906? Outpourings of the Spirit give us the impression that, by the Spirit, we are taken up and empowered for God’s purposes and, at the same time, released from control over our own self-proposed and constructed purposes. We fear surrendering control, even when it is to God’s purposes of love—especially when it is God’s cross-bearing love. The truth, however, is that, in the Spirit, we receive true control and our true selves. As one theologian has put it, “Our independence is found in direct proportion to our dependence on God.” We receive the “freedom of the children of God,” the freedom of love. Ultimate dependence on anything else is tyranny.

Where there are communities formed in the unity of the Spirit, there is outwardly directed love, compassion for others, mercy, inclusion, liberating action, and works of healing. These communities do not pour condemnation upon others but offer grace and healing. They often operate out of the limelight but are themselves light. When we encounter them, we know them by their fruit: they do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with their God.

Filed under: Spirit, UnityTagged with: , ,

The Alternative To Anxiety

A pair of cardinals built a nest in the bush just outside my front window, a nest which a cat discovered. I kept trying to shoo the cat away but to no avail. The cardinals left to find another place (hopefully more protected) for their nest. They simply took the next appropriate action.

I am reminded of Jesus’ words concerning the “birds of the air”: “They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.” Jesus tells us that our “heavenly Father,” who cares for the cardinals, knows what we need and provides. I need these words of Jesus and the simple action of the cardinals taking the next steps given to them.

There is so much we can be anxious about, personally, socially, and globally. Jesus tells us not to worry about our lives. In the passage, from which I quoted above (Matthew 6:25-34), he tells us what to do instead of being anxious about our lives: “Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Here is my (rather free) translation: “Above all else, seek God’s reign and will, and God will provide what you need to live out the life God has given you.”

The implication of these words is that we do not even have to ask God for these things that we are anxious about, for God is taking care of us. Of course, we are encouraged to go to God (rather than elsewhere) for our provisions: “Give us this day our daily bread.” And we can “cast all our anxieties on God, because God cares for us” (1 Peter 5:7). In doing so, we are set free to give our foremost attention to God’s reign and will. Our prayer, therefore, first and foremost, is “Your kingdom come, your will be done.” And, because this is our foremost prayer, and is at the heart of our being and doing, we also pray, “Deliver us from evil,” that is, deliver us from whatever would keep us from letting God be the center of our lives and would keep us from living out God’s purposes for us.

These words are very freeing—no matter what we are facing. These words keep it simple, no matter what we are going through. Paul clearly understood this when he wrote of doing one thing: “This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.” No matter what turns our life’s journey takes, it is always about one thing: God’s reign and purposes. God has a way for us to walk in that is life-giving no matter our circumstances. God is present in all things—in darkness and light—to make God’s purposes known and realized.

God knows what we need for this journey! And God provides! We can turn our focus on what God is doing in our lives and where God is leading, no matter our situations. We can attend to what is needed in the here and now. This is why Jesus also says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” In other words, take it one day at a time. Live in the present where God meets us and where the leading of the Spirit takes place. Doing so moves our attention to where it needs to be: on the love and mercy and will of God.

Filed under: Faith, Spirituality

A Good Place To Be

When a person says they cannot see the way forward anymore, when they can’t figure a way out of their situation, when they feel powerless, the message they most need to hear is “You are in a good place.” They are in a place of need and poverty of spirit. Jesus’ words apply to them: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for the reign of God is theirs.”

We have different ways to talk about this “good place.” (Never mind that it does not feel good.) We speak of someone reaching the end of their rope. Their life is in pieces. They have nothing to stand on. They are at a loss. It has become clear to them that they need help beyond themselves. Self-help is not helping anymore.

We may be tempted to encourage them by saying that things are not that bad. They just have to be strong. With such words, we turn them back upon themselves with their poverty and helplessness. Of course, they expect this kind of encouragement. The world around them speaks this way and they try to speak to themselves this way but to no avail. They have reached the end of their resources. They are despairing of themselves, of their ability to fix their lives.

Good news, for them, has to come from someplace other than their ability to lift themselves up. They are going to have to see that the place they have come to is rich in possibility. They are in a good, fertile place. It is a place of blessing. God’s reign is near and it is for them.

Jesus said to the self-sufficient and self-righteous religious leaders that the sinners and outcasts of society were entering the reign of God ahead of them (Matthew 21:31). God’s reign, God’s healing, liberation, and restoration are available to the poor in spirit, to those, who in their brokenness, reach out beyond themselves to the Source of life. Their insufficiency meets God’s sufficiency.

Paul learned this. He discovered that “whenever I am weak, then I am strong” and that God’s grace is sufficient whatever the “weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.” The God who is present and active in all things is our hope, the ground of our being, our all in all.

Filed under: SpiritualityTagged with: , ,

Gracious God, You Know Daunte Wright

Gracious God, have mercy on us. Help us. You know Daunte Wright—another Black young man killed by a White police officer. He had been stopped for an expired registration tag. You know the pain of his family, today, and are with them in their grief. They join so many other families who have had a loved one snatched from them by the actions of those called to “serve and protect.”

Gracious God, you see how we treat one another, how we hurt, maim, and kill one another. You see our addiction to guns and our powerlessness over our addiction. We call our guns our “protection,” when you alone are our Protector. We put these guns in the hands of those we have called to “protect” us, without truly acknowledging the attitudes of White supremacy and bullying that are present. We refuse to see the racism that drives so many of our actions, lethal actions, police actions.

Gracious God, you see the racism embedded in our system of policing; you see the disregard for human life, for Black life. You see our blindness to this racism that is endemic to our society and its institutions. Help us, gracious God. Enlighten the eyes of our hearts, so that we get a glimpse of what you see of our sin, our brokenness, and our dehumanizing ways, and so that we might also come to know the lavishness of your grace that liberates and transforms us.

Help us, gracious God. Give us eyes to see and, then, free us from our bondage and inaction. Help us to turn from our idolatry of race to embrace each other as sisters and brothers of one human race. Break down the hardness of our hearts toward each other and toward you who are merciful and compassionate. Help us, gracious God, to surrender our lives to you who are Love, that we might love one another as you love us.

Free us and help us, gracious God, to work for change. Help us to dismantle what is destroying us and to build what brings life. In Christ, many of us have discovered the power of dying and rising (not only rising but also dying). Help us to die in order that we might live. Help us to let go of policing as we know it. Help us to envision a life-giving way to serve and protect. Help us to be willing to do what you called the prophet, Jeremiah, to do: “to pluck up and to pull down…, to build and to plant.” Guide us by your Spirit, the spirit of love, to make right what is wrong. Amen.

Filed under: Grief, Justice, Racism, SocietyTagged with: , ,

Reflections On Lent

We have difficulty admitting weakness. We tend to cover up our fears and feelings of vulnerability, not only before others but within ourselves. We all put up fronts before others and ourselves, in one form or another. Some put forward a front of confidence and strength. Others put up a front of neediness in order to get something from those who appear strong and self-sufficient. In either case, we attempt to control and manipulate situations and others, as if we were the source of our lives. In this denial of weakness, we run from our fundamental need which is our need for God.

The truth is that we are profoundly powerless, helpless, and weak. That we are these does not mean that there is no power, help, and strength for us. But denying this reality of helplessness (or acting like all we need is the strength someone else appears to have) cuts us off from our true power, help, and strength—the “grace that is sufficient” and “the power that is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

One of the aspects of Lent for Christians is the experience of silence and self-examination that puts us in touch with our weakness. We take a step toward our true selves when we acknowledge our cover-ups and our brokenness. We take another step when we willingly share our weaknesses and fears with others. It is at that point that we truly meet one another. We find that we are all in need of God’s grace.

In the season of Lent, we draw near to the cross of Christ which is both the symbol of our brokenness and of our deliverance. At the foot of the cross, we find true fellowship with one another. Gathered around the one who, in dying, took our sin upon himself, our cover is blown; our weakness is exposed. And we find that we all share the same condition. We are a fellowship of broken, needy people, needy for God and God’s liberation through Christ.

Lent is a season for getting in touch again with our weakness, that in our weakness we may discover strength and help and the empowering that is ours in God. We discover that “God is our refuge and strength a very present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1) The wording of this psalm does not have God giving us strength, but rather that God is our strength. It is in union with God that we experience power. Acknowledgment of weakness and loss opens the door to the power of God available through Christ. Baptized into Christ, we are united to Christ’s weakness, loss, and death. In Christ, we die to our attempts to be strong in ourselves apart from God, and we are released into the power of God, raised with Christ, and made alive to God and God’s will. Thanks be to God.

Filed under: Faith, Grace, Spirituality

Witness Amid False Christianity

What does witness to the Christ reality look like in the midst of so much that is false to Christ? This is an issue for followers of Jesus who care about witness to Christ. We see a distorted, destructive Christianity. Some expressions of "Christianity" are downright scary: We expect violence. Many of us viewed a video of a man, who had broken into the senate chamber, praying a prayer of thanksgiving to God. He was involved in the insurrection and claimed a God-given victory. These actions, of course, have nothing to do with the "reign of God" that Jesus proclaimed. Nor do any of the nationalist, ethnocentric, and racist blends of Christianity.

For those who have little experience with churches or Christianity other than what they receive in the news, there must be bewilderment at the dizzying array of Christian institutions, forms, practices, theologies, and values. Those that have read Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels may have recognized the distance between Jesus and many who lift up his name. There is much Christianity that operates in ways distant from the "reign of God" that Jesus proclaimed and his actions of mercy and compassion.

So, what does witness to Jesus Christ look like in the midst of so much that is false to Christ? Where do we see it? What forms does it take? Here are characteristics of a true witness in the midst of false Christianity:

  1. Actions Come First. Many, for good reason, are turned off on Christ-talk and God-talk. Witness to Christ, therefore, is seen first in acts of love. It simply manifests Christ in the world by action. It acts from the reality of the Spirit of Christ. Therefore it does justice, loves mercy, and lives faithfully. The love of God is made concrete and practical. It responds to actual needs with compassion. Actions proclaim the Christ reality. With loving actions there may also be opportunities to witness with words.

  2. Speak to Human Experience. When the opportunity to speak is present or necessary, Christ people must declare the message of Jesus without formulas and doctrines and with humility. We must operate like the first followers of Jesus: We must respond to people at the point of their need and with words that speak to their deepest humanity. We must speak to spiritual reality, rather than moralize. Our witness must come from a life rooted in the Spirit and able to discern the things of the Spirit. We may speak to spiritual realities long before we name Christ. Our words will engage with individuals’ spiritual journeys. Therefore, we will spend much time listening and receiving from their experience as well as sharing our own. If we see that the name “Christ” alerts them to be cautious because of their experience with people who do a lot of Christ talk without a Christ life, then we may, at first, speak of the Christ reality in terms that are more available to them. We may speak of our true humanity which, in its infinite depths, is rooted in God. After all, Christ is the union of God and humanity. He is our true humanity. People who have found their way to their true selves, have implicitly encountered Christ. They have come into a dying to the false and rising into their true humanity. The reality of Christ, even without the name, is never far away.

  3. Encourage Faith. Our primary message is the same as Jesus’ message: “God’s reign and purpose are near. God is near. Turn to God, the source of your life and identity.” We must encourage others to relinquish their lives to God and discover the Christ-life. When they let go of their lives to God (which is what faith does), they do so through Christ. As St. Paul puts it: We become right with God through the faith of Christ; his faith becomes ours. Faith is the gift of God in Christ. As we come to participate in this Christ reality, the word is: “Go on in him. Learn to live by an ultimate trust in God and in community with others.”

Filed under: Society, Spirituality, Witness