In May my parish Priest asked if I’d be willing to lead an adult Bible study. He had led one in the weeks before Lent. Some people seemed to enjoy that and asked if it could be revived. So, he came to me. (Scary, I know!)
I agreed to take on the project. Not so much as a ‘leader’ or ‘teacher.’ But, rather as a facilitator. I would be someone who could add context and color to the study. There was no way that I would presume to tell people what the ‘Bible says,’ or ‘this is what God said.’ That’s not study. That’s at best preaching. And, at worst, bullshit.
Anyway, as I prepared myself for this role, I spent a lot of time quietly in God’s presence. That’s a good place to be, by the way. I was considering where this study would take those of us who joined together for it.
And, I was not disappointed. God did reveal a snippet of Grace that illuminated a path that could be traveled.
For years, (and years), I had been told by those who supposed that they knew what they were talking about, that there were “nuggets” of truth hidden in the pages of Scripture. We needed to dig deeply into the text in order to find and unearth these precious bits of God’s will for our lives. It was hard work being a miner. And, the payoff, while precious, was always just a ‘nugget.’
But, in the quietness of God’s presence I saw something different.
Far from being a dark, dirty mine from which we needed to crawl into in order to find a bit of blessing, I saw the Scripture as a vast, living, and vibrant world. It was a world where the sun shone brightly on fields of ripe grain. There were trees laden with fruit just waiting to be picked and eaten. Birds were flying in the sky. There were mountains and oceans. It was a world where we could pick the grain for food, or distill it for our happiness and enjoyment.
This IS the world of Scripture. This IS where the Spirit of God dwells. This is the world that I wanted to open to those who came to listen.
So far, the study has gone well. I think. At least the same people keep coming back every week. ;o)
I hope that together we can develop a passion to wander in this Living World of the Bible. A passion that will make us better readers of it, for sure. But, also will allow us to pick some fruit and sit under a tree in God’s World.
Since June 2 I’ve had the opportunity to lead an adult Bible study at the church I currently attend. The priest here had started a similar study in the weeks before Lent. It was set aside as we all entered into the Easter season. It happened that several people thought that the study should be resurrected, (pun intended). So, Fr. Alex asked me if I would be open to help. So, here we are.
We are currently following the Revised Common Lectionary reading for each Sunday. Fr. Alex stated that it might be helpful to take a closer look at some of the passages that would be read that morning. So often these are simply read during the service without a great deal of reflection. This Bible study could help to provide tools with which they could reflect more fruitfully.
That all sounds ok.
I’m glad to help out with this. Especially, since I have the training and education to take on this role.
As we started things I knew that at some point Fr. Alex and I would touch on a common text. And, we would have divergent ‘takes’ on that text. I wondered how the folks who sat in on the Bible study and listened to Fr. Alex’s sermon might hear those different views. And, how I might address them.
Well, this past Sunday we did just that. We both spent time on the same passage from the Gospel according to Luke. And, yes, we looked at the passage from two distinct perspectives.
The text was from Luke 8:26-39. It’s the story of a man who was possessed by many demons. He lived among the tombs in the region of the Gerasenes on the eastern end of the Sea of Galilee. The story tells of how he could not be restrained by any means as he ran naked through the tombs. When Jesus and his disciples showed up, the man confronted Jesus and begged Jesus to not torment him. Jesus asked his name. The man said, “Legion,” for many demons dwelt in him.
The story goes on to state how “Legion” begged Jesus to send them into a local herd of pigs, who subsequently ran down a slope into the sea where they drowned.
Now, there’s a whole lot in this passage. People a lot smarter than me have argued about who the man was; where exactly did this happen; why pigs?
Fr. Alex shared from the pulpit how this passage demonstrated a clear political message that would have resonated with the original hearers of the story. He explained how Roman troops, who at the time occupied Israel and the surrounding territories, could be assembled in a group of about 6,000 soldiers called a Legion. Also, around this time a particular legion known as the Legio X Fretensis occupied Jerusalem and had on their banners the image of a boar.
You can begin to see where Fr. Alex was drawing similarities between the story and actual events.
His point was that the people who heard this originally would have understood the references and seen the story of Jesus overcoming the evil forces brought by Rome and “bringing justice into the midst of human suffering.”
He then reminded us of a message he gave on Pentecost Sunday in which he explained how we, as the Body of Christ, are the very hands and feet of Jesus in our world today.
If we are that, then we have the obligation and task to be the bringers of justice and deliverance to the oppressed people that we encounter. He cited the grave humanitarian catastrophe that is currently happening on our southern border. He challenged us to consider how we might each respond to the mounting injustice.
AMEN! Preach it!
But, then…there was my take on the story.
You see Fr. Alex had been inspired to share his liberationist understanding by news articles during the week that exposed what was happening to people. People made in the Image of God. People for whom Jesus gave his life.
I, on the other hand, was inspired by another of our Sunday lections. This one from Is. 65:1-9. The first couple of verses in this text reveal God desperately seeking God’s own people. God cries, “Here I am, here I am,” to people who ignore God. Isaiah wrote that God was sitting at the city gates with arms outstretched. This would have been how a beggar acted.
Certainly not God.
Yet, here we have an image of God revealed as a servant in order to help the people God so loved. I saw God allowing Godself to be seen and known by a people who had no interest.
The bottom line there was that God DESIRED to be seen and found. God was open for business. Come on in!
Similarly, at least to me, in the Gospel text my mind zeroed in on Jesus’ encounter with the possessed man. Jesus said,
“What is your name?”
Wow!
Here was a man who was obviously tormented. He had been chained and tied. He lived among the dead. He was naked and cast out.
And Jesus looked into his eyes and asked, “Who are you?”
Jesus, like God in the Isaiah text, made himself vulnerable to someone who was in desperate need. Someone who was potentially violent. Someone who had been cast aside and rejected.
Someone who was made in the image of God and for whom Jesus was willing to give His life.
Yeah, Fr. Alex and I came at the same text from two very different places and came to two different conclusions.
But, are they really that different?
Fr. Alex saw the text and gave us an actionable charge. As a pastor, that’s what he’s called to do. He energized us to get involved to help however we can with time, money, prayer.
I came to the text as a contemplative and revealed, I believe, a piece of God’s heart that will also lead to action. Albeit, a different flavor. I desire people to see, feel, touch, and know God intimately. To live and experience God’s deep love for all of the Cosmos. Then, to share that with others. Perhaps, especially with those who are suffering at the hands of a strong oppressor.
So, different takes on the same text. Both speaking God’s Word to those who can hear.
It should really be a no-brainer. In fact, it seems that if you love God you will necessarily love your enemy.
Right?
For anyone whose home isn’t in some cave deep in the jungle that statement would ring true. But, for those of us who live and breathe in the U.S. things are a bit more nuanced, to say the least.
I spend a lot of time reading blogs, essays, and news reports from various sources. (Admittedly, Fox News is not one of them.) These pieces cover subjects from climate change to koalas with VD.
There is one topic that seems to garner a bit more than its fair share of coverage. That is, White Evangelicalism.
What is this, you ask?
White Evangelicalism is the broad umbrella that folks use to cover White conservatives who share some kind of Evangelical faith in God. These are the folks who voted overwhelmingly for Donald “Pussy Grabber” Trump. Some polls show that a good 83% of these people who profess to follow Jesus of Nazareth voted for him.
White Evangelicals are largely conservative politically and socially. Now, there’s nothing wrong with that. I respect their right to make those choices and will go to the mat with anyone who would try to take that right away. However, many of these people go well beyond simply supporting conservative causes. These others actively work to deny the rights of others to express themselves in a like fashion.
People like Steven Anderson, pastor of Faithful Word Baptist Church. Pastor Anderson is vocally anti LGBT. His hatred for LGBT people has gotten him banned from several countries in Africa and Europe.
There’s Robert Jeffress of First Baptist in Dallas. He is a noted supporter of Mr. Trump and other hard-line, nationalist conservatives. In his mind it seems that there are only two groups of people, White Evangelicals and Everyone Else. Everyone Else is, well, you get it. He and others whom historian John Fea refers to as Court Evangelicals have an agenda that seems to desire an American theocracy with White Evangelicals at the helm. No other solution to what they see are the ills that plague this nation is possible. For them it is a zero sum game where any gain by Everyone Else is necessarily a loss for White Evangelicals. Period. End of story. This causes Pastor Jeffress and others like him, say, Franklin Graham, Jim Dobson, Jerry Falwell, Jr., and others to view Everyone Else as enemies to be vanquished.
So what? Who really cares what a bunch of crotchety old white guys think, anyway?
Well, me for one.
Yeah, I consider myself part of Everyone Else. But, that’s not why what these people think or say. The thing that bothers me is that they spew their hatred for Everyone Else in the name of Jesus. And, I’m sorry, that doesn’t cut it. These people don’t get a free pass to hate others in the name of a Person who hated no one.
So, a few days ago as I was praying I had to confess to God that I felt that these people were enemies of the Gospel. That also made them my enemies. This was hard for me to say. After all, I lay claim to faith in God through Christ. Just like many of those White Evangelicals do. Shouldn’t I consider them my sisters and brothers? After all, not all siblings get along real well. But, they’re still siblings none the less.
Well, maybe. I supposed sisters can grow up in a way that will alienated them from their sisters and brothers. They could technically become ‘enemies.’
But, what I feel is different. It’s like these people are illegitimate children. Bastards born of a different lineage all together. How was I to deal with this? Should I attack them like they attack Everyone Else? No, that doesn’t sound right. Should I embrace them and engage with them with the love of Christ? That sounds like enabling. I don’t think that’ll work either. What then?
So, I prayed.
A couple of days before this I led a Bible study at the church I attend. One of the texts we looked at was Psalm 8. In that Psalm is this line: ” Out of the mouths of babes and infants you have founded a bulwark because of your foes, to silence the enemy and the avenger,” NRSV. I don’t like that translation so much. Looking at the original language I think a better translation would be, “Out of the mouths of children and sucklings You have established a stronghold that will silence Your foe and avenger.” It seems that the praise of those who are the weakest and most vulnerable is capable of silencing the loud clamor of those who stand opposed to God.
I realized that I don’t need to take White Evangelicalism to task. I really don’t even need to deal with them at all. My first obligation is to praise God and live in a manner that reveals God’s heart for EVERYONE, (White Evangelicals included). By doing that and encouraging others to do likewise, the voices of the Enemy will be silenced.
Should we love our enemies? Yeah. But, that doesn’t mean that we must engage with them on their terms. Our first responsibility is to love and engage with God. Anything more is just noise.
How long has it been? 40 years? 45? Such a long time to be alone. Yet, not alone. Or, was I simply lost in a crowd? Maybe that’s closest to the truth. Lost in a crowd of people who claimed to be family. Yet, they weren’t quite. Am I alone? Or, am I part of something larger?
In our Western, particularly U.S., culture an odd creature was birthed. This creature had no apparent need for anyone else. No nature; no nurture. It just sort of “appeared” in our collective popular mythos.
Over time this creature became known as “The Rugged Individual.”
Those of us old enough to remember will recall this creature
seated atop a strong horse with mountains in the background. He was smoking a
Marlboro cigarette.
Perhaps this creature was born out of our nation’s desire to cut ties
with ancestral homelands and make a go of it as a New Nation that needed no one
else. No king or pope or other “authority” was going to tell us what to do. We
are an Individual Nation.
Or, maybe the whole idea of the Rugged Individual has always
been somewhere sleeping, latent within our individual psyches.
I really don’t know.
What I do know, now, is that while this creature surely exists,
it is surely a lie.
It is a dangerous lie, to boot.
Now, I can take this idea in several directions.
I could make it a defense of Socialism. After all, isn’t Socialism ultimately a
critique of individual accomplishment? Doesn’t it strike at the heart of MY
will and well-being having preeminence over the will and well-being of the
collective?
No, I’m
not going there. Maybe some other time.
I could touch on Hillary Clinton’s 1996 book “It Takes a Village” to
discuss how we must work together as a “village” to properly raise our
children.
While that is an excellent topic for discussion, it’s not what I have in
mind here.
No, I think that I want to touch on something a bit more
personal. Something that has impacted me, my family, and my community at a
visceral level. It has chipped away at my soul and my mind to create something
that doesn’t
quite resemble the Rugged Individual. Nor, does it quite fit as a piece of some
ethereal ‘Whole.’
It actually quite resembles the confused person described at the beginning of this post.
For quite a long time I’ve tried to discover my place in life. You
know, trying to answer those unanswerable questions like “Why am I here”? What’s
the meaning of life? Why is there air? (Uh, no, that’s not one of them. The
answer to that is obvious: to fill soccer balls.)
When I first came to faith in Christ as a 16 year old idealist, I was taught that God loved ME. In fact, God loved ME so much that if I had been the only human on earth, Jesus would still come to give His life so that I could live. I participated in a Billy Graham event where he preached a message that claimed that I could not be saved unless I made a confession of MY PERSONAL sin and received Jesus as MY PERSONAL savior. It was all about ME and MY and MINE. Graham wasn’t the first to explain faith in this way. The concept he preached has been around since at least the time of John Calvin. But, it found fertile soil in this nation of Rugged Individuals who saw God vindicating their Rugged Individualism. God didn’t save a collective. No! That was a communist plot! God saved ME!
But, then I met a bunch of hippies who believed in God. I
started to hang with them. We were part of a larger movement that became known
as the Jesus Movement. (Profound. I wish that I could have helped them come up
with a better handle. Anyway, I digress.) Together we began to play around with
the concept of Community. We tried to model this new thing after what we
understood about the early Church as described in the first few chapters of the
Acts of the Apostles. These prototype Jesus People sold their belongings and put
the proceeds in a community account that all could draw from as needed. COOL!
They cared for one another as sisters and brothers in a large extended family.
STILL COOL! They shared all things in common and lived together in peace and
harmony. WAY COOL!
We found out that the Bible talked a lot about how we should
live together in love. We were a Kingdom of Priests and a Holy Nation. This is
the language of community and togetherness. And, this all came at a time in our
nation’s
trek through history when we desperately needed such a concept. We had become
fragmented as a people. Race; War; Politics. It seemed that all of the powers
of the Universe had conspired to break our world into little pieces. We needed
to try and find some cohesiveness. There was something embedded deep in our
human DNA that cried out for an end to the splintering of our world. So, these
ideas from the Bible resonated with us.
But, we still held on tightly to our identities as Rugged
Individuals. After all, that concept had been drilled into us for generations.
It would not simply sit back and say, “Oh, right, community. That’s cool. I’ll
just pack up and leave.”
No. We still, after all that we were learning about our
interdependence, militantly held on to our independence. So, we changed the
story a bit. We started to preach that God made us for one another. To live
together in true Christian community. But, to join you needed to confess YOUR
INDIVIDUAL sin and accept Jesus as YOUR INDIVIDUAL savior. Hmmm…not much of a difference
there.
Eventually, we made some emendations. We elevated Family to the
place of an actual individual. So, now our community could be called a Family
of Families. Isn’t
that sweet? This became a point of contention with me at a former church. The
church leadership insisted that the Eucharist, the celebration of Communion,
should be celebrated within the confines of the family unit. So, the head of
each ‘household’ came up and received the bread and wine. They then took the
elements back to their INDIVIDUAL families to share. For me, this practice was,
and is, antithetical to the whole concept of the sacrament. But, that’s a
subject for another post.
So, why have I spent this time and more than 1,000 words to say all of this?
A week ago the priest of the church I now attend talked about a parable that Jesus taught. It was about a certain shepherd who realized that one of his sheep was missing. Now, he still had 99 sheep that were safe and sound. But, being the dutiful shepherd, he left the 99 and sought out the missing sheep. This story has been used over the years to show how much Jesus cares about the INDIVIDUAL. He will abandon 99 and leave them to the elements and go off in order to seek and save the lost ONE. Wow! I’m really pretty important to Jesus!
And, that my friends, is the point that people using this text
want to make. It appeals to our emotions in a deep way. It paints the portrait
of No One Left Behind. It appeases our Rugged Individual.
Is that what God intended for the story?
Well, maybe. In part.
But, perhaps there is another take away from it. A way to
understand it in the light of one of the overarching themes of the entire
Bible.
Throughout the Scriptures there is the idea that God is forming
a People. He is in the business of Nation building. Images of sheep, (plural),
and goats and lambs and flocks abound in its pages.
What if the story of the lost sheep is more about the condition
of the flock than the lost sheep?
What if it’s
the flock,restored to wholeness, that is the point of the story?
I think it is.
I think that unless we can get beyond ourselves as individuals
and drive a stake into the heart of the Rugged Individual we, as people, will
suffer. Unless we can reach even beyond that and somehow see that we are not
just a single species, but part of a greater community made up of all of the
Cosmos, we will suffer.
God, in the beginning created Adam. He created THEM. And, then
graciously placed THEM in a Garden full of their fellow creatures to live and
thrive TOGETHER.
“I Am That I Am. You will tell them that I Am has sent you. I Am the One who exists at this moment. Absolute. Unchangeable. Ever-living. I Will Be Whom I Am Becoming. Ever revealing My redemption. I Will Be what you look for and need. I Will Be Whom I Will Be. Not yet revealed. Not yet known.”
God has been called many names. It seems that people are always looking for ways to describe that which is indescribable. There is one name, however, that was recorded as the self-identifier of God.
The short verse above is a play on that.
The name “I Am that I Am” is the most popular. People use this to make God something that is far beyond our limited ability to understand. God simply ‘IS.’ God exists. God is wholly ‘Other.’
Yet, this God spoke to Moses as one Person to another. Intimate.
Personal.
Others interpret the Name actively. “I Am Becoming,” or, “I Will Be.” This has
the flavor of something that isn’t quite done growing. It’s nature is not
complete. Or, it has not been revealed in its completeness.
This is the God that I give my allegiance to.
This is the Living God who will outgrow any box that we may use
to confine the Divine.
This is the God Who may be the same yesterday, today, and
tomorrow,
But, it is impossible for me to know what that was, is, or may
become.
On April 26 I shared that author and all around great person Rachel Held Evans was not doing well. She had a bad reaction to treatment for an infection. The treatment caused her brain to have seizures. She was placed in a medically induced coma to stop the seizures.
Today, it’s with deep sadness that I share that Rachel passed on Saturday, May 4.
Here is what her husband, Dan, shared,
“Rachel was slowly weaned from the coma medication. Her seizures returned but at a reduced rate. There were periods of time where she didn’t have seizures at all. Rachel did not return to an alert state during this process. The hospital team worked to diagnose the primary cause of her seizures and proactively treated for some known possible causes for which diagnostics were not immediately available due to physical limitations.
Early Thursday morning, May 2, Rachel experienced sudden and extreme changes in her vitals. The team at the hospital discovered extensive swelling of her brain and took emergency action to stabilize her. The team worked until Friday afternoon to the best of their ability to save her. This swelling event caused severe damage and ultimately was not survivable.
Rachel died early Saturday morning, May 4, 2019.
This entire experience is surreal. I keep hoping it’s a nightmare from which I’ll awake. I feel like I’m telling someone else’s story. I cannot express how much the support means to me and our kids. To everyone who has prayed, called, texted, driven, flown, given of themselves physically and financially to help ease this burden: Thank you. We are privileged. Rachel’s presence in this world was a gift to us all and her work will long survive her.”
We join with Dan and all who knew and loved Rachel in mourning her passing.
I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here. There are many reasons for that. Hopefully, I’ll be back soon with loads of new material.
Right now, however, I want to let you know about the condition of Rachel Held Evans. If you ever followed me on Facebook or twitter you are aware of the high esteem in which I hold RHE. She has been an encouragement to me and many others as we navigate the path away from toxic evangelicalism. So, Thank you,Rachel for your openness and willingness to share your journey with us.
According to Rachel’s husband, Dan, Rachel went in for treatment of an infection. She had a negative reaction to the treatment and began to experience seizures. The medical staff have put her in a medically induced coma.
She is currently still in that condition in the ICU.
There are some changes coming to this site in the near future.
I hope to continue with topics that we’ve all grown to know and love. However, I’m planning to focus more of my time and energy writing and publishing in 2019. Eventually, I plan to use this site to share and promote my prose and poetry.
To you who have been faithfully following my ramblings, THANK YOU!!!! I really appreciate you more than you can know. I hope that you’ll stick around through the coming changes.
Earlier today I wrote about the diversity of cultures and their intrinsic worth in the eyes of God. I hold that to be dear to my heart.
One point , though…
I am not indigenous. So, if I was to appropriate their spiritual practices I would very quickly find myself in error. It works the same way as demanding that ALL cultures embrace the Western Church’s spirituality. It’s just wrong.
I do have a spiritual heritage that does find its roots in the Western Church. For me, God worship should find its foundation in the historic practices that singularly identify the Church within the context of the World. I find people like Jonathan Aigner quiet refreshing as they urge us onward toward our better selves in worship. And, I have to agree with his assessment of contemporary styles of worship. They are shallow and without Soul. Click on the post below to read Jonathan’s recent post about this.
One of the basic tenets of Western Christianity is that only those people who believe in Jesus as the Son of God can be saved or accepted by God. They cite especially the text in the Gospel According to John where Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except by me.”
That does sound pretty exclusive.
So, missionaries and colonists took their understanding of God and the Gospel and went out to the uttermost parts of the world in order to make disciples of all people.
It looks like the right thing to do. From a certain point of view.
A point of view that I no longer find tenable.
As I walk among friends from diverse cultures I find that God has already shown up to them. No, not like with Jesus. But, truly the influence of Creator is not the personal property of Christians or Jews. Creator has touched the hearts and lives of billions of other souls in ways that we in the West just don’t seem to understand.
And, THAT’S OK!
We don’t need to understand. We do, however, need to love and encourage each of these cultures to cultivate their relationships and understand of God. We can do that without imposing our Western culture on them.
So, I have no problem sharing this link to a group called, the International Council of Thirteen Indigenous Grandmothers. These women have a heart for Creator, Creation, and all those who call this big piece of space rock home. I believe that they have truly experienced God. Their Way, Truth, and Life may look different than mine. That doesn’t mean they are wrong.
So, I invite you to click on the above link and check them out. Who knows, we may all learn something!
