Scratching My Head at Pentecost

Happy Pentecost, everyone!

 

 





Hallmark doesn't make a card for this important Christian holy day, and that's a crying shame if you ask me. I love Pentecost. It's the celebration of the Holy Spirit of God, and it marks the day when twelve scared and utterly confused followers of Jesus suddenly came alive and began to proclaim the incarnate love and everlasting life and joy they found through the person of Jesus. It is, in essence, the birthday of Christianity.

For my folks at little Faith Lutheran in Philadelphia it's also the day when we celebrate the rite of Confirmation--the ritual in which young teens, now schooled in the Bible and the doctrines of the Church, affirm the promises made at their infant baptisms and profess themselves to be adult members of the Christian community.

And for a lot of them it will mean "graduation from church."

Sometimes I just scratch my head and wonder why I try to teach something as mysterious and multi-layered as the Christian faith to kids who would rather be beaten with a club than sit through a weekly lesson in theology. But it's a tradition, and year after year we go through it.

To be honest, I don't really remember much about my own Confirmation except that my fellow confirmands somehow got out of order in our line-up at the communion rail. Our pastor got confused, and I had to whisper to him frantically that he had forgotten to lay hands on me and say the prayer  for the anointing of the Holy Spirit. Once I had been prayed over, a church council member presented me with a small New Testament and a box of offering envelopes. I guess that made me an adult in the faith.

So I wonder about the kids I'll confirm this year. Do their parents--many of whom have shown no inclination for religious observance themselves--have them make their Confirmation just because it's "the right thing to do?" Is this more superstition than true religion?

Being confirmed certainly won't ward off evil. Those spirit-filled Christians on that first Pentecost found that out soon enough. All of them faced jail time, and all but one of the twelve died violent deaths for proclaiming faith in Jesus Christ.

What will happen when I lay hands on the heads of these young people and pray for the outpouring of God's spirit? I doubt that the church will be filled with the sound of a rushing wind. No tongues of fire will appear over their heads. They will not begin to preach in strange languages. They might just say, "Thanks, Pastor. I'll see you at my wedding!" as they head for the nearest exit.

But maybe not. I mean, even those first Christians, the ones who lived and ate and prayed with Jesus, the ones who saw Jesus resurrected, still didn't get it at first. Spiritual faith takes time to develop. I can't give my students that faith. I can only give them information. But, as Luther teaches, the Holy Spirit calls us through the gospel. And the Spirit's work--every day, according to Luther--forgives our sins, enlightens us with gifts, calls us into togetherness, and makes us holy. We aren't even aware of it. The older I get, the more I suspect that spirituality has less to do with knowledge or experience and more to do with time and practice.

If the rest of us can create an environment within the church which is loving and open enough, maybe these young people will stick around long enough to get the hang of this Christian thing. So I'll keep believing, and I'll keep teaching, and I'll keep hoping that somehow something will register in the minds of these youths that will make a difference in their lives some time down the road. Who knows..?

As for me, the sacred stories, the rituals, the songs, just get more beautiful the older I get. The Holy Spirit is more real to me now than in my youth, and she keeps whispering new ideas in my ears. I can't wait to find out what she has in store for me in the future.

Thanks for reading, my friends. Amen. Come, Holy Spirit.

 

Oneness (Reflections on Easter Seven)

"I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me." (John 17:20-21)

The above is from what Bible scholars call Jesus' "High Priestly Prayer" which makes up the seventeenth chapter of the Gospel of John and is part of this Sunday's assigned reading in the Revised Common Lectionary. Jesus, while having his last supper with his disciples before his crucifixion, prays that they might have unity. He's not just praying for a general sense of agreement among them; rather, he's asking that they achieve some kind of spiritual oneness with each other, with him, and with the God of all Creation. This harmony will have a transformational effect on those with whom the disciples come in contact. People will actually experience the presence of Christ and harmony with the Creator Father through the harmony of Jesus' followers.

That's a pretty tall order, if you ask me. Jesus' prayer is putting us all in tension with one of our greatest desires: to be seen as individuals. I mean, don't we all want to be distinguished in some way? Aren't we all just a bunch of little kids screaming, "Look at me?!"

But that's the paradox: at the heart of things, we're all really the same. We're all made from the same molecules and atoms--the very dust of the earth is our essence. We all need food and water and air. We all are driven by the same passions for love, meaning, and security. And yet, we're all uniquely loved by God and blessed with individual gifts.

Theology sucks sometimes, doesn't it? How can we ever intelligently contemplate the nature of God, the mystery of the Trinity, when we don't even understand the paradox of our own existence?

I think this week's lessons are trying to teach us that the path to spiritual peace lies in seeking our oneness rather than reveling in our "ME-ness." Look at the First Lesson from Acts 16. The jailer, the minion of the oppressive government which is imprisoning Paul and Silas, becomes an object of our compassion. This guy has a duty and loyalty to his cause, just as do Paul and Silas. He's willing to give his life just as they are. He has a family he loves and cares about--just like everybody else. The imprisoned Christians in his charge recognize his common humanity and turn an "enemy" into a brother.

For my money, the greatest religious thinkers have been those who have emphasized the similarities, the oneness, of all religious traditions rather than the cultural differences. Carl Jung, Joseph Campbell, and Karen Armstrong are all influential because they recognize that at our very core we are all one.

The best guide for ecumenical understanding of our oneness was taught to me by one of my theology professors, J. Paul Rajashekar. Now, I'm sure my paraphrase of Dr. Rajashekar's insights might be somewhat inaccurate, but you'll get the general idea (And, if you're reading this, Paul, my apologies in advance for any misconstruction of your wise thoughts).

First, people interacted in a tribal sense through a theology of exclusion. This theology said, "I know what I believe. I don't know what YOU believe, but I'm pretty sure it's different from what I believe so you must be wrong. I must, therefore, convert you to my way of thinking. Failing that, I must kill you and take your land."

This theology led to a lot of violence and bloodshed. So we got smarter and came up with a theology of toleration (not to be confused with actual tolerance). This theology said, "I know what I believe. I don't know what YOU believe, but I'm pretty sure it's different from what I believe so you must be wrong. BUT, I don't see any reason why we can't agree to disagree and live peacefully side-by-side. As long as your son doesn't marry my daughter, we'll get on just swell (Besides, some day you'll die and go to Hell anyway!)."

But Jesus urges us towards the path of oneness. Rajashekar refers to a theology of hospitality. This theology says, "I know what I believe, but I DON'T know what you believe. Therefore, I cannot assume that it's different from my own belief system. If we can get our vocabularies worked out, we might discover that we have more in common than we originally thought. We will emphasize our oneness, and learn to live in harmony with each other and with the Holy Spirit of God which dwells in each of us."

It's about putting our egos and our desire for ME-ness aside. Flying in the face of modern self-help thought, Jesus never prays that we will have self esteem. He is praying for oneness. It's a prayer both mystical and practical. Sometimes I wonder if, instead of working out the world's differences with soldiers and diplomats, we should send religious people who are willing to talk the theology of hospitality to those whom we perceive as being so different from ourselves.

It couldn't hurt.

Have a blessed week, my friends.

Blessed Failure (Reflections on Easter Six)

Like everyone else on this planet, I've screwed up a few times in my life.

My brief and unspectacular career in the theatre once involved a stint on the Theatre Arts faculty of a small west coast college. This was really a great job, and I truly enjoyed teaching acting and voice classes and directing plays. I even had the opportunity to perform with the college's professional resident theatre company. For a young man fresh out of grad school, this was a great gig to have. Unfortunately, I was also a very stupid young man, and I couldn't resist an urge to criticize the department chairperson at every chance that came my way.

Needless to say, I was quickly fired from this position.

In retrospect, getting canned from that safe college job was the best thing that ever happened to me. After I choked down my panic, I was forced to go out into the world and find a way to pay the rent and other bills. I was also forced to find different venues in which to do my art and other students to teach. My life experiences became so much richer as a result. Some years later, these new experiences led me into the ordained ministry of the Lutheran Church--and I have felt extremely fulfilled and useful ever since.

Sometimes what we see as failure, if looked at through the eyes of faith, is actually a blessing. In the First Lesson assigned for the Sixth Sunday of Easter in the revised Common Lectionary we see the apostle Paul and his missionary companions making no headway in Asia Minor (Acts 16:6-15). They pass through the regions of Phrygia and Galatia and attempt to cross into Bithynia, but the Holy Spirit is just not going along with their plans. Nothing is happening. One night, Paul has a dream in which he sees a man from Macedonia pleading with him for help. The evangelists change direction and sail across the Aegean. There they meet a savvy business woman named Lydia who hears their message and helps them start the first Christian church on the European continent.

 

That's kind of the way God does things sometimes. One plan fails so another can succeed. The challenge for those of us who live in a success and status driven society is to see our moments of disappointment as something natural to be embraced and not as some dark evil to be feared.

 

In the gospel lesson for this Sunday, Jesus makes a promise to his followers,

 

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives." (John 14:27)

 

This world, with its emphasis on position and riches, promises peace only through acquisition. And how will we ever know if we have acquired enough? Does the world ever offer true peace? Peace which is free from fear? The world gives with strings attached to the gift.

 

In Jesus, however, we are promised the peace of the Holy Spirit. That is, our friend Jesus is always with us and within us. Success is not measured by fame, wealth, or power. Rather, it is felt internally when we are obedient to God's Word--loving God and loving neighbor and believing in eternity. In this we are free of the world's shallow judgment, and we can change course where the Spirit directs us.

 

God bless you, friends! Thank you again for visiting.

 



Of Guns and Sheep (Reflections on Easter Four)

Hello, my friends!

It's been well over two weeks since my last post, but I've taken time off to deal with some very important family issues. Please forgive my tardiness.

And, shoot Lordy momma..! Has this world been crazy in the last week or so! Our prayers go out to the victims of the chemical explosion and fire in West, Texas and to the victims of the what appears to be a domestic terror attack at the Boston Marathon.

If these events were not, in and of themselves, insane enough, Americans have also seen the refusal of our Senate leaders to close the "gun show loophole" and demand universal background checks for all firearm purchases in the United States. Can you believe it? With polls showing a substantial number of Americans calling for gun purchase reform to prevent firearms from falling into the wrong hands, the U.S. Senate still refused to do anything.

A few weeks ago I attended a social event and met a military veteran of the Viet Nam era. He told me he had recently had an intense argument over gun control with some pro-gun individuals. In an exasperated moment the veteran asked, "So what kind of gun do you think Jesus would prefer?"

I don't think this has anything to do with politics anymore. I think this is a matter of our national soul.

My theory? We can't deal with the growing sense of powerlessness we feel in this chaotic world, and we want to know that we have some kind of control. Owning a device which gives us the ability to take human life mesmerizes us into a deluded state of having some kind of power. In a world filled with bullies and victims, we prefer to be the bully.

I don't know about you, but in a world full of bullies and victims I don't want to be either. I would like to believe that if I were truly put into such a position, I would be willing to die for the cause of the gospel (although I truly fear that I am nowhere near that brave!). But I cannot fathom how awful it must be to take the life of another human being--even in self defense. I have never discharged a firearm, and I have no desire to do so.

Violence, as we all know, begets more violence. But victimization, as the psychotherapist Thomas Moore suggests in his 1992 bestseller Care of the Soul, can also be a form of passive/aggressive violence. The gun lobby is very adept at playing the victim--attempting to coerce the public and our lawmakers into sharing its point of view by conjuring images of an oppressive government bent on depriving Americans of their God-given liberties.

In a world of bullies and victims, there must be a third option. For my part, I'd rather be a sheep. Jesus says,

"My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand." (John 10:27-28)

We often think of sheep as being docile imbeciles, blindly following the shepherd, going with the crowd. But sheep actually have a relationship with their shepherd. They know that this is the guy who provides for them--making them lie down in green pastures, leading them beside still waters and in the right path.

At this point in my life, I hope I have come to terms with my own powerlessness and weakness. I will get my way or I won't. But I am in God's hands all the same. I don't want to intimidate and I don't want to complain. I want to live my life in this Valley of the Shadow of Death fearing no evil because God is with me. I want to trust. That's all.

And I want to listen for my shepherd's voice and do my best to ease the journey of my fellow sheep

Thanks for reading, my dears. Take time to say "Hello," won't you?

Gay Marriage at the Washington National Cathedral

I'm a little jealous of the Very Reverend Gary Hall. He beat me out for my dream job of becoming the Dean of Washington's National Cathedral last October. I, unfortunately, was not on the short list for this post. It seems that the deanery of the National Cathedral always goes to an accomplished and prominent Episcopalian cleric. This knocks me out of the running because
      a) I'm not an Episcopalian, and
      b) I am in no way accomplished or prominent.
Shoot. It sure would be nice to be the honorary pastor to the whole nation and preside at the funerals of presidents and other potentates. Also, the NC is a pretty swanky place. Just look at it:

 

 

What's more, the Dean of the NC gets to be interviewed on National Public Radio and can make all kinds of interesting announcements. Recently I heard Dean Hall announce that same-gender marriages will be permitted at the NC as such unions are legal in the District of Columbia. At the time of the interview (January 9), however, the Dean did not have such a wedding on the NC's schedule.

 

Well this is one time when I get to scoop the National Cathedral and announce that little (but charming) Faith Lutheran of Northeast Philadelphia actually has a same-gender union scheduled for December of 2014. Currently, such unions are not recognized by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, but I'm going to pray that the Commonwealth gets its act together by December of 2014 so I can perform a real marriage and not just a blessing.

 

I support the legalization of such unions because I believe, as one of our nation's founding documents has asserted, "all men are created equal." Unfortunately, until this civil liberties question is addressed, many of our citizens will not have the legal rights to certain tax and health care benefits, nor the rights to adoption, health care surrogacy, and inheritance enjoyed by straight couples. This is unfair and unjust.

 

There are some Christian who will debate that blessing same-gender couples is a violation of scripture. To a point I will agree. Homosexuality is clearly forbidden in Leviticus 18:22. I would point out, however, that the author(s) of Leviticus also advocate the exiling of anyone with a skin disease (chapter 13), the quarantining of women during their menstrual cycle (chapter 15), the death penalty for adultery (20:10) and the speaking of blasphemy (24:14), and pronounces the eating of rare meat to be an abomination (chapter 17). There seems to be no problem with slavery, however, and men who have sex with slave women are exempt from the death penalty (19:20). Go figure.

 

Obviously, our understanding of human relationships and human rights has evolved since the time of the Old Testament. My church teaches that we interpret the parts of scripture we don't understand in the light of the parts we do understand. And we understand that our risen Lord, Jesus Christ, has come to die and ransom all of us--male, female, straight, gay, all races, and in all walks of life. Jesus tells us in John's gospel,

 

"And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself." (John 12:32)

 

I am very proud of the open welcome shown in my congregation and my denomination to same-gender oriented Christians. As yet, neither the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America nor the Episcopal Church, USA have official liturgies for same-gender unions. Fortunately, I have well over a year to write one.

 

I salute you, Dean Hall, for your bold public stand on this issue, and I am proud to have you as a brother in Christ and a fellow clergyman. I pray that your voice on the national stage will be heard across our land and usher in a new era of welcome and equality.

 

Thanks for reading, friends. Let me know what you think.

Christ is Risen! Alleluia!

 

Christ is Risen! Alleluia!

 

A very blessed Day of Resurrection to you, my friends!

 

Can I just say that I LOVE Easter!? It's my very favorite day of the year, and the holiest day of the Christian calendar. I guess it's the retired actor in me, but I love the Church's liturgy of acting out the passion and resurrection story of Jesus. Every year, we get to make this story real to us by acting it out in our public worship. Last Sunday we waved the palm branches which greeted Christ on his entry into Jerusalem. On Thursday we washed the feet and ate the meal, then we stripped the altar in solemn remembrance of the betrayal, abandonment, arrest, beating, and mockery which Jesus endured that night. The following evening we told the story of his trial and death on the cross, slowly extinguishing the lights until we sat in the darkness of a world without redeeming love.

 

But then this morning came. Like the women in the gospels I arose in the darkness of early morning. And, as I have for the last fifteen years, I came to a garden to meet with fellow believers and praise the goodness of God.

 

Sunshine or rain, tornado, or blizzard, year after year, about 100 or more Philadelphia Christians gather on the banks of the Delaware River and sing to the rising sun. We are Lutherans and Episcopalians, Baptists and Methodists, Roman Catholics and United Church of Christ and every other Christian denomination. On this morning, our tiny doctrinal differences don't matter to us.

 

We are clergy and laity, black and white, old and young, straight and gay. We are ALL believers in the deliverance made known to the world in Jesus Christ, the immortality of our souls, the goodness of God, and the call to love one another for the healing of the world.

 

We sing contemporary songs, but we sing the old hymns too. Sometimes, in those old, well-remembered words, I can almost feel the spirits of the departed singing with us from Heaven. We pray together. We acknowledge our faults. We jointly proclaim the beliefs which bind us together. And, year after year, the riverbank is a place of joy and love among neighbors and strangers.

 

For me, it is always the singing. I love to sing, and I love to hear people sing. In this mp3 player generation, how wonderful it is to hear people stand together and just sing.

 

Sing we to our God above, Alleluia!

Praise eternal as his love: Alleluia!

Praise him all you heav'nly host, Alleluia!

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Alleluia!

 

May Easter's joy fill your hearts! Thanks for reading.


P.S.-I have but one lament: Our ecumenical worship this morning did not include the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. Unfortunately, our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters are not yet permitted by their doctrine to join with the rest of us. Pray that the new Pope will soon invite ALL Christians to the table of the Lord and that our fellowship will be complete.





Creepy Stuff (Reflections on Holy Week)

A very blessed Holy Week to you all.

Have you noticed--or maybe it's just me--how creepy American popular culture has been getting lately? Every time I turn on TV it seems that the stories on current dramas are growing darker and more gory and, well, just kind of sick. We are deluged with stories of grizzly sex crimes, serial killers, cannibals, and just lots of perverted, violent stuff. Maybe it's always been like this and I'm just getting more sensitive in my old age, but I almost feel as if the culture is obsessed with darkness.

Even stuff which used to be kind of innocent has taken on a sense of menace, disease, and dysfunction. As a kid I used to read Marvel Comic Books. They were fun fantasies then. But I don't know if I could recommend to a six-year-old today the adventures of a Spider Man who is being consumed by the "dark side" of his nature, or a Captain America with PTSD, or an Iron Man with a substance abuse problem! Even our fairy tales are being repackaged in a more sinister form with TV dramas such as "Grimm" and "Once Upon a Time."

And yet, people still tell me that they don't want to attend a Good Friday tenebrea worship because it's "too depressing!"

To an extent, I have to agree with them. The presence of human darkness is deep within the Christian mythology and ritual--and no more so than during this week. On Holy Thursday we see Judas, a symbol of treachery and greed. We see the machinations of the Sanhedrin, supposedly a wise council, but puffed-up with arrogance, lust for power, and jealousy. And on Good Friday there is that consummate thug, Pontius Pilate, as ruthless as Bashar al-Assad in putting down dissent, surfeited with corruption and cruelty.

All of this leads us to the contemplation of that most obscene invention of human brutality--the cross.

But running throughout this story of thorns, mockery, impaled flesh, and abandonment is a parallel story of self-emptying, sacrificial love and forgiveness.

"Then Jesus said, 'Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.'" (Luke 23:34)

Our current popular culture of darkness is really rather safe by comparison. It does not require anything of us but to enjoy being scared and to relax when the story is over. But the darkness of Holy Week is entwined with the light of God who calls us to look at ourselves and see what we are capable of doing, and then to look to God and see how God is capable of loving.

This darkness requires our response.