God’s work, our hands

Today I had the privilege of listening to John Nunes, head of Lutheran World Relief, speak and preach in church.  One of the things he said was that historically, Lutheran World Relief and other Lutheran charities have not had to advertise themselves–Lutherans gave regularly, as congregations and as individuals, and so money that other organizations had to spend on marketing and fundraising, LWR could commit directly to projects.  That’s changing, and so Lutheran World Relief has just had to hire their first director of marketing.  And it seems to me that part of the problem is that we as Lutherans haven’t been good at spreading the word about all the good things we do.  As children of God, we are called not only to spread the Good News, but to be what Luther called “little Christs” to our neighbor, spreading the love of God through tangible means of food, shelter, healing, companionship.  We give and we work, not to earn God’s grace, but to share the love God has given us.  Here are some of the ways we as Lutherans do this:

Lutheran World Relief works in 35 countries throughout the world.  They seek lasting solutions to poverty and injustice in some of the poorest places in the world.  While they do disaster relief, their focus is on building communities and helping people raise themselves out of poverty so that when disasters strike, be they natural or manmade, the people can take care of themselves and are less dependent on the charity of others.  They work with and through local people and organizations, creating sustainable growth and working towards peace and justice.  And they do all that while staying financially stable in today’s economy, and while spending less than ten cents of every dollar on administration (which is an incredible ratio–a lot of charities are good if they get less then twenty cents per dollar for administration).  LWR’s projects include collecting and distributing quilts, health kits, clothing, etc, made by American Lutheran congregations, Fair Trade coffee, chocolate, and gifts (perfect for this holiday season!), disaster relief, and working with people in poor,  rural communities to figure out what they need and find a sustainable way to get it.

Lutheran Services in America is the largest social service organization in America.  It’s larger than Catholic charities, larger than the Red Cross, larger than the Salvation Army.  It’s an alliance of over 300 Lutheran health and human service organizations. Working neighbor to neighbor through services in health care, aging and disability supports, community development, housing, and child and family strengthening, these organizations together touch the lives of one in 50 Americans each year and have aggregated annual incomes over $16.6 billion.

Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service.  For over 70 years, Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service has led a ministry of welcome to some of America’s most vulnerable newcomers.  They help people seeking safety from persecution in their home countries and reunite families torn apart by conflict. They resettle refugees. They protect vulnerable children who arrive alone in the United States. They advocate for compassion and justice for all migrants.

Lutheran Disaster Response works with local people and volunteers to rebuild lives and communities, both in the initial aftermath of a disaster and in the years of rebuilding that long-term recovery requires.

Through these and other organizations, Lutherans do great work in the world.  I encourage you to give as you are able, of your money, time, and talents.  And spread the news about what we do!

God is not a vending machine: the problem with the prosperity gospel

Oh Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.

Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,

So Lord, wont you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

–Janis Joplin

This song was written to be a satire on the materialistic culture of America.  Like all satires, it’s funny because it’s true: we do pray to God for that ‘Mercedes-Benz,’ whatever that may be for us.  There is a widespread belief that in the “prosperity Gospel”: if God loves you, you will be healthy and wealthy.  If you are spiritual enough, if you pray the right prayers, if you go to the right churches, if you have the right positive attitude, God will give you what material gifts you ask for.  And it makes sense–we all know people who self-sabotage, who assume the worst or prepare for the worst and through that very belief cause, in some sense, the worst to happen to them.  So if the opposite is true, that you can influence what happens to you by having a positive attitude, well, that seems fair.  And after all, didn’t Christ say “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened” (Matthew 7:7-8).  It seems clear enough.  Decide what you want, trust in God, ask, and it’s yours.

A best-selling book was written about the Prayer of Jabez from 1 Chronicles 4:10, explaining how this one verse can lead you to a deeper spirituality that will result in material prosperity, as if God were a vending machine.  Put in the correct change (the right belief and the right attitude), make the correct selection (the right prayer) and the treat drops down into your hand.  Joel Osteen and other televangelists make similar claims, as do a wide variety of other spiritual figures from Conservative Christians to New Age gurus to business consultants and life coaches.  (And what does it say about our society that business consultants give spiritual advice?)  We all want a good, long, prosperous life.  God loves us and wants us to be happy, and has said he’ll take care of us.  Surely, putting the two together can’t be a bad thing?

But what happens when things go wrong?  What happens when we don’t get that Mercedes-Benz?  What happens when bad things happen–abuse, illness, injury, the death of a loved one, the breakup of a marriage, the loss of a job?  If God rewards the right attitude, the right faith, and the right prayers with material prosperity, then the only explanation is a failure of the person in trouble.  Maybe they didn’t have a positive enough attitude.  Maybe they didn’t pray for the right things.  Maybe their faith wasn’t strong enough.  This is the fundamental problem with the prosperity gospel: during the darkest times of our lives, when we need the love and presence of our God the most, we are abandoned.

Now, I don’t mean to say that God actually leaves us, because he doesn’t.  But if we assume God only works through material prosperity and good fortune, if we assume that bad things are a sign that he is not with us, we will almost certainly blind ourselves to the ways that he is with us during times of trouble.  And then we have nothing to fall back on.  God is always with us, even if we can’t see him.  But if we can’t see or feel him, we feel as bereft as if he was truly absent.  I worked for a summer as chaplain in a mental facility, and one of the people living there was a woman with severe depression who had suffered many things in her life and so believed God was not with her.  However untrue that belief was, her anguish over the perceived abandonment was real.

But God does tell us “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Matthew 7:7-8).  How do we interpret this if not through the lens of the prosperity gospel?  How do we pray to God and share with him our needs and concerns without assuming that if those needs and desires aren’t met, God has ignored us?  Let’s compare Jesus’ words in Matthew with those of James in his letter to the church:

You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder. And you covet something and cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures.

-James 4:2-3

Why do we ask for things?  How do we decide what we need, and how does that relate to God?  James points out that our attitude and our greed matter.  If we try to treat God like a cosmic vending machine, handing out treats on demand, we’re asking wrongly.  It’s not that pleasure is by itself bad, and it’s not that wealth itself is bad.  The problem comes when we allow our wants and desires and appetites to direct our thinking instead of our relationship with God.  If we’re focused on our own wealth and well-being, we’re probably ignoring both God and our neighbor.  James points out that selfish thinking separates us from the community as we try and get what we want through whatever means we can; we shouldn’t be surprised if it has the same effect of separating us from God, so that we cannot see the ways in which God is calling us and supporting us.

God is always with us, even when we can’t see or feel him.  God is with us even when we focus on our own selfish desires.  God is with us in good times and bad, and God knows our true needs better than we do ourselves.  God will never forsake us, in good times or in bad.  God’s love cannot be measured by health or wealth, but only in the fullness of his grace and mercy.

From Seminary President Michael Cooper-White: On Heresy and Humility

The president of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, Reverend Doctor Michael Cooper-White, recently wrote a short piece on the recent conflict within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America regarding human sexuality:

When teaching about conflict, I advise folks to expect some rhetorical excesses when individuals or communities are anxious and engaged in a heavy duty struggle. So while it’s no surprise that some things appearing in speeches and print following the 2009 ELCA Churchwide Assembly are “over the top,” I would feel remiss without challenging one of the most blatant—the accusation that by its decisions in adopting a social statement on human sexuality and changing ministry policies the Evangelical Lutheran Church has “fallen into heresy.”

Reflections on the ELCA churchwide assembly

As some of you may be aware, the ELCA recently voted to “recognize publicly accountable, lifelong, monogamous, same-gender relationships.”  In other words, while the Churchwide Assembly did not endorse homosexuality nor give monogamous same-gender relations the same status as heterosexual marriages, it did state that homosexuality is not inherently sinful.  Now, this is a hugely controversial thing to say, even when you’re trying to be even-handed and take a middle of the road coarse (which the ELCA is trying to do).  This is particularly controversial for a church body, and there is a great deal of confusion as to the scriptural basis (or lack thereof) on which the decision rests.  There are also a great many accusations from both sides of the argument that the other side is acting based on their own personal prejudices and politics rather than the will of God.  There is also a great deal of confusion on what it was exactly that the ELCA voted to do.  What happened can be explained fairly easily from the ELCA FAQ on the subject.  The theological basis on which those decisions rested are a bit more complicated.  Here’s a helpful article by Timothy Wengert:

“If there is one rule we need to follow in the wake of the ELCA Churchwide Assembly, it is this: Do not break the eighth commandment (against false witness) in order to defend the sixth (against adultery and other sexual sins).  Both those who supported the changes in policy and those who did not need to remember this.  We must speak what we know and not cast aspersions on those who disagreed with us.  Luther’s comments on the eighth commandment in the Large Catechism are helpful here.  Even when forced by one’s office to speak out, one must not lie or distort the truth.

“In light of some implied (and explicit) attacks on the decision, however, it is also necessary to make one thing clear.  The change in policy was grounded in Scripture.  In fact, the calls for justice toward gays and lesbians in committed relationships and the recitation of examples of healthy same-gender relations, as important as these are to some folk, finally do not in themselves constitute a complete standard for changing church policy, since even calls for justice must for Christians be grounded in and normed by sound interpretations of Scripture as God’s Word for us….”

Timothy Wengert is an outstanding theologian of the church.  He is an expert on Luther and the early Lutheran church, having been one of two editor/translators of the latest edition of the Book of Concord (the collection of documents that form the basis of the particularly Lutheran understanding of Scripture and the Christian life, of which the Augsburg Confession is a part). He is a professor of Reformation History at the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, and a regular contributor to the Journal of Lutheran Ethics.

In the Flesh

Have you ever noticed that when Jesus appears to people after the Resurrection, there’s usually a fleshy part of his visitation?  His followers touch Jesus  (Matthew 28:9, Luke 24:37-40, John 20:20, 27-28) or Jesus eats with his followers (Luke 24:30, 24:41-43, John21:12-13).  Almost every time he appears, there’s some proof that this is not just a “ghost” or “spirit”–this is a real, flesh-and-blood person coming among them.

What does this mean?  Why does it matter?

Well, first, it means that resurrection isn’t just about the soul–the body gets resurrected, too.  The whole package deal, body and soul, is redeemed and re-created and resurrected.  We don’t leave our bodies behind.  Instead, our whole being is taken by God and made holy and pure.  We like to think of the world as dualistic, flesh=bad and spirit=good.  We like to think of the physical world as evil, corrupted, temporary, something that will be destroyed when Christ comes again, while the spirit is pure and holy and eternal, merely waiting to be freed from the evils of the material world.  This is not the case, as Jesus showed us in his appearances after the Resurrection.  The body is just as involved as the spirit.

Remember that in Genesis, when God creates the world he calls it good, repeatedly.  It has been corrupted by sin, yes, but was created good, and ultimately belongs to God.  Our souls, as well, were created good but were corrupted by sin.  Both are alike, that way.  Both need to be cleansed of sin and death.  Both depend on the mercy and grace of God.

Again, what does this mean?  What effect does it have on our daily life?  It means we can’t just ignore the world around us.  Too often, Christians try to withdraw from the world and concern themselves only with “spiritual” matters.  Or we separate “spiritual” concerns from “worldly” concerns, as if they have nothing to do with one another, as if God has no use in the everyday world.  But God is the Creator of all, God is the Redeemer of all, God is the Sanctifyer of all.  We are called to live as God’s people in the world, to spread the light of God, to spread God’s Word, to work for God’s kingdom.  And we can’t do that if we try to separate the physical from the spiritual.

Christ came to his disciples, and ate with them.  He let them feel his flesh.  He was truly among them.  Let us, as his disciples, follow his example.

The Light of Christ

Hello all!  It’s been a while since I posted, for which I apologize; personal struggles have gotten between me and my blog.

Last Saturday night, I participated in an Easter Vigil service at my home congregation.  For those of you who don’t know, the Easter Vigil is a worship service that takes place the night before Easter, celebrating all of God’s creative and redeeming activity from the creation of the world through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Since it takes place after dark, by the Jewish calendar which Christ and the early disciples used it’s already Easter.  Although it will not be announced to the world until morning, Jesus Christ is risen and the tomb is  empty.

Easter Vigil starts off with a fire, outside.  The Paschal/Christ Candle for the coming year is lit from the flame and the pastor holds it up, chanting “The Light of Christ!”  The congregation responds “The Light of Christ!”  Each holds a candle.  The Christ Candle lights a few, and those light the flames of others in turn.  As the flame is passed from person to person, the one giving the flame says “The light of Christ!” and the one receiving the flame says “Thanks be to God!”

The congregation then processes to the church and inside.  Now, this year there was a bit of a wind that night, and so peoples’ candles kept blowing out.  But every time a candle blew out, the person next to them gave them a new flame.  “The Light of Christ!”  “Thanks be to God!”

It struck me that this is a metaphor for the Christian life.  We don’t create our own fire, our own light, our own faith.  It is given as a gift from God, often through the care and attention of those around us–parents, friends, mentors.  Christian means “little Christ.”  As part of our Christian lives we are called to be “little Christs” to our neighbors.  As we have been given light, so we are to share that light with all around us.  So far, everything seems great, right?  But as wonderful as it is to have the light of Christ in us, to be light for the world, we can’t sustain that light on our own.  The trials of life sometimes blow it out.  But through God’s grace, those around us can share their light with us, and help rekindle the flame of faith within us.  As we are called to be “little Christs” to them, so they are called to be “little Christs” to us.  This is most certainly true within the community of faith, but also outside of it.  Many times, it is the ones outside our communities of faith that are most in need of Christ’s light.  And many times, the light of Christ comes to us from people and places that we least expect.

Now, I realize that the world is a broken, sinful place, and because of that sin Christ’s light doesn’t always seem to work like that.  Sometimes, there isn’t anyone around when we need help the most.  (Sometimes, the ones around us who should be the ones to help kindle that flame are the very ones causing the winds that blow it out.)  But for the most part, it works pretty well.  It’s one of the reasons that we have congregations and other communities of faith, why participating in the faith life of a group of fellow believers is so important.  So that when you feel the light of Christ in you and around you is dimming or has gone out, you already know who you can go to for spiritual renewal and support.  We form communities so that you can be renewed by Christ working through those around us, and when others need help we can be a “little Christ” to our neighbors in turn.

Becoming Disciples

When I was in high school, I decided to start giving up chocolate for Lent.  “Chocolate?” my aunt said when she heard.  “Aren’t you supposed to give up something a bit more … penitential?”

“What could be more penitential than giving up chocolate?” I asked.  “I’ll certainly be thinking about it all the time!”

In many Christian traditions, it is traditional to fast from something, to give it up, during the season of Lent, particularly delicious or sweet foods.  That’s where Mardi Gras comes from, and why we have pancakes right before lent–the idea was to have a big party where you used up all the stuff in the house that you would be fasting from, particularly forms of fat such as butter, shortening, lard, etc which were used in the making of pancakes.  That way nothing was wasted and you wouldn’t be tempted to break your fast.  Many of these traditions are still practiced today, but we don’t always think about why we’re doing it.

So why do we fast?  And why do we do it in Lent, specifically?  Well, Lent is a time of preparation for Holy Week and Easter.  It’s supposed to get us ready for crucifixion and resurrection.  It’s a time to remember what Christ did for us.  It’s a time to remember that we are sinners, and that our sins are so great that Christ had to die to save us from them.  It’s a time to take a good, hard look at one’s own life and the life of the community and acknowledge the things that are broken and ask for God’s help in restoring them.  It’s a time to build your relationships with God and with your fellow human beings.  It’s a time to practice spiritual disciplines–fasting, praying, meditation, etc.–that help us grow spiritually.

Fasting, giving things up for Lent, shouldn’t be about being ostentatiously pious or just doing things because it’s traditional.  It should be a way of taking stock of your life and paring back the things that you don’t need, that distract you from God.  It can be a way of reminding yourself what the season is all about–for example, every time I was presented with the opportunity to each chocolate when I gave it up, it was a time for me to remember not only what I was giving up, but why I was doing it.  Fasting is not automatically a way to good spiritual health.  It should be accompanied by an attitude of prayer and a focus on what God has done for us and in us and continues to do for us and in us.  From my own experience, when I focused on what I was missing while I was fasting and not on God, I didn’t get any spiritual growth or blessing from it, I just felt deprived.  When I focused on God’s love for me, on my repentance for my sins and the grace of God’s forgiveness through Jesus Christ, then fasting became the catalyst to spiritual growth and health.

Fasting is one of the spiritual disciplines.  Disciplines–that’s from the same root word that disciple comes from.  Spiritual disciplines are tools we can use to help us become better disciples when used regularly and intentionally.  They can help us stay on our path following our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  They can help us break down the barriers that we put up to the work of God in our lives.  There are internal spiritual disciplines–prayer, fasting, meditation, study–and external spiritual disciplines–simplicity, stewardship, evangelism, and others.  All have the potential to help us as disciples.  This Lent, consider regularly practicing some form of spiritual discipline as we prepare for the death and resurrection of our Lord.

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

Sunday, February 15 2009

2 Kings 5:1-14

Psalm 30
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Mark 1:40-45

Preached by Vicar Anna C. Haugen

First Evangelical Lutheran Church, Greensburg, PA

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I knew a girl in college who would never allow a guy to pay for anything, particularly if they were out on a date.  She didn’t want to be vulnerable, didn’t ever want to feel obligated, so she used her money as a shield to keep herself in control of whatever they did together.  She liked knowing that she didn’t have to depend on anyone else.  When dealing with guys, she was a control freak.  Money is a potent form of power, and she knew how to use it.

Naaman wanted to use his riches to be in control, too.  Being told of a prophet of God who might be able to cure his disease, Naaman’s first action wasn’t to go to the prophet and ask for healing.  No, Naaman wanted healing on his own terms.  So he went to his king, and got a huge sum of money to bribe the king of Israel into helping.  Naaman also got a letter from his king to the king of Israel that was harsh enough to panic the king of Israel, and a powerful military escort.  Chariots were the tanks of their day, the most effective way of projecting power on a battlefield, requiring much money and skill to maintain and use.  It was the old carrot and stick approach: if you do what I want and heal me, Naaman said, you get a king’s ransom in gold, silver, and costly garments.  If you don’t heal me, my king-who is more powerful than you, with a larger and better equipped army-will be very unhappy.  So you’d better do what I want.  Naaman demanded a miracle of healing, rather than ask for God’s grace.  He wanted God to work by his rules, rather than try to work by God’s rules.

The prophet Elisha heard about it, and called Naaman to be cured, telling him simply to wash in the Jordan river.  Naaman should have been happy, right?  He got what he wanted: to be cured from a horrible, disfiguring, wasting disease.  But no.  Instead of being grateful, Naaman was insulted that the prophet’s instructions were so simple.  Naaman was a powerful man, a rich man, come with a huge entourage and lavish bribes to demand a huge miracle.  He wanted a big show, something worthy of his status, something that he could do to heal himself.  He wanted something that acknowledged his power and that of the king he served.  Aram, what we now call Syria, was mighty and rich, much more so than the piddling little country of Israel.  Coming to puny Israel for help, admitting that they had something Aram didn’t, was already an affront to Naaman’s pride.  Then to have the prophet of God refuse to deal with him directly, refuse to play to Naaman’s pride, refuse to give him some Herculean task and showy ritual to mark the importance of the occasion-that was intolerable.  To have come all that way, just to be told to bathe in a river, something he could have done at home?  Naaman wasn’t going to put up with that.  He turned away and almost rejected the miraculous healing God was offering him.  He had to be convinced to allow God to help him!  It seems incredible to us, almost unbelievable, that anyone would reject God’s help and healing because their pride was offended.  It seems incredible that anyone would turn away from God with the gift they so desperately need right there in front of them.  And yet, we do it all the time.

Nobody likes feeling vulnerable.  We like to feel we have control over our own destinies.  Think about how much respect we give to “self-made men,” those who take a bad situation and use their own abilities and ambition to rise above it, creating a better life for themselves.  We Americans also tend to take a lot of pride in being self-reliant, take care of ourselves.  Think about how much time we spend planning out our futures.  Think about how afraid people have been lately about the economy, about the threat of lost jobs and pay cuts.  Is it really about money, at the heart of it?  Or is it about something deeper, about knowing that one of the foundations of our society is shaky and unpredictable?  Even those people with relatively secure jobs are afraid and unsure.  People who have already been laid off, whose lives have been completely changed by forces beyond their control-I can only imagine what they must be feeling.

I know when I feel vulnerable, I try not to show it, try to pretend everything’s going fine, try to take control of the things that are most important to me.  Like Naaman, when I’m weak I try to look strong, try to keep the situation in terms that are familiar to me, on my own home turf.  For Naaman, the home turf was wealth and military posturing.  For me, the home turf is academic debate and nitpicking.  There are many defense mechanisms, ways to try to compensate for feeling weak and vulnerable, but everyone has them.  Sometimes, we don’t even realize we’re using them.  What are yours?

Admitting that someone or something else has power over you means that you are not in control.  It means that you are vulnerable to them.  It can be very scary.  But here’s the thing: no matter what we do, no matter how much power we have, we are not in control of the world.  God is.  God is the one who created the world, who redeemed it through death on a cross, who brings us out of the pit of sin and despair and makes us whole.  None of that is our own doing.  All of it belongs to God and is done by God.  It is not our will that determines the course of our lives, but God’s will.

But do we really believe that God is in control?  We say it all the time in worship, in hymns, we read it in the Bible and hear it preached.  We pray it in the Lord’s Prayer, asking for God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.  But all too often, we don’t mean what we say.  When things go right, we look back at all the little things that happened, everything we did, that helped make things turn out the way we wanted them to.  We attribute things to chance, luck, other people, everyone but God.  We don’t look for all the little ways God has intervened to help and guide us, the ways God has shaped events.  When things go wrong, we want God to step into our lives and fix everything, but fix it on our terms.  God gets the blame for tragedies-children dying, jobs lost, homes destroyed-but we don’t often give God the credit for all the things that go well.  Like Naaman, we try to keep control of our lives by keeping God’s presence within boundaries of what we consider acceptable.  And it’s a lot easier for us than for Naaman; we don’t have a prophet of God like Elisha to point out our mistake and make us relate to God on God’s terms rather than our own.

We live in a world broken by sin.  I don’t mean just individual sins, bad things done by individuals.  Sin has invaded every aspect of our lives.  Each individual sin takes us further away from how God wants us to live our lives.  All those little-and big-things we do wrong add together to create ever larger problems.  Because we are flawed and sinful people, the things we create-like institutions, groups, and cultures-are also flawed and sinful.  Just as our bodies get sick because of diseases and germs, our minds and souls get sick because of sin.  But while our bodies can fight off minor ailments and doctors can cure us of many serious illnesses, the only one who can save us from sin is God.  Like leprosy, sin is a long-term wasting disease that affects our entire life, something we can’t cure ourselves.  Like Naaman, our only hope is the grace of God, a miracle of healing given for us.  Like Naaman, we need to be washed clean.

But like Naaman, we want to be in control.  We don’t want to admit we have a problem, don’t want to admit we can’t fix it ourselves, don’t want to admit we’re vulnerable.  We come up with reasons why we don’t need God’s help.  We convince ourselves we’re not doing that badly, that we’re no worse off than anyone else.  We worship God on Sundays and try to leave him safely in church behind us when we leave instead of looking for his influence and guidance in our daily lives, until something bad happens and we want God to fix it just the way we prefer.  We turn away from the love and salvation God offers us through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, just like Naaman turned away from the healing he was offered in the waters of the Jordan river.

It’s hard to be vulnerable, to put our trust in God to take care of us and heal us.  It’s hard to admit that we need God’s grace so desperately.  But here’s the good news: we have been washed clean by the waters of baptism and redeemed out of the hands of sin and death by our Lord’s sacrifice.  Even living in a world broken by sin, even when we turn away from God, God never turns away from us.  Baptism isn’t just a matter of splashing a bit of water on a baby’s head.  Baptism is a fundamental cleansing, a drowning of the old, sinful self.  Each day of our lives as baptized children of God, we die to sin and rise to new life in Christ Jesus.  We are sinners, yes, but we are also saints claimed and made holy and whole by God.  This is why for the last few weeks we’ve been using the Remembrance of Baptism in place of the Confession of Sins we normally use.  It’s a reminder that baptism isn’t just a once-in-a-lifetime event but a daily reality, a way of living in God’s grace our whole life long.

We don’t need to be afraid to let God work within our lives.  We don’t need to be afraid to admit we need God’s help.  We don’t need defense mechanisms to try and prove we have control or hide our own fears.  We don’t need to control God’s actions, because God loves us and cares for us and won’t abandon us.  Even when things aren’t going the way we want them to, even when we’re afraid of the way things are going, God is still with us, still healing us from our sin and working to make us whole.  God washes us clean from the illness of sin in the waters of baptism.  All we need do is open our hearts and minds to God’s work in our lives and stop turning away.

The Beginning of Wisdom

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” (Psalm 111:10, Proverbs 9:10)

That never made sense to me.  It’s a common theme in the bible, occuring twice in those words and many, many times in other variations.  And it’s one of those pithy statements that I heard occasionally growing up from elderly Christians of my aquaintance.  But I was taught in Sunday School about a God whose greatest characteristic is love for all creation, especially his children.  God was a loving father, we were taught, who saves us and heals us and takes care of us.  Why should we be afraid of him?

I know some Christians believe in a terribly wrathful God just looking for excuses tocondemn and smite people and send them to Hell, but that’s never been part of my personal piety.  After all, no matter how angry God sometimes gets, no matter what we do, he still loves us.  17“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” (John 3:16-17).  Or, in the words of Jesus Loves Me (verse two), “Jesus loves me when I’m good/When I do the things I should/Jesus loves me when I’m bad/Even though it makes him sad.”  Another favorite hymn growing up was “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”  Why should I fear my friend, my father, the one who created me and loves me and takes care of me, even when it costs him?

Why is the fear of the Lord the beginning of wisdom?  Psalm 111 was the Psalm of the week last Sunday, and it got me thinking about this.

Yes, God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.  Yes, Jesus loves us, and loves us so much that he died to save us.  Yes, the Holy Spirit surrounds us and guides us in love all the days of our lives.   But the problem with focusing on our loving relationship–God our Father, Jesus our dear friend–is that it’s easy to lose track of the fact that God is not just a nice person living up in the sky.  He’s not just a human who really likes us.  God is greater than that.   God is greater than we know, greater than we can know.

Consider the mystery of the Trinity–Father, Son, Spirit, three distinct persons who yet make up one indivisible God.  When Saint Augustine, one of the greatest theologians ever, tried to understand this mystery, he was given a vision of a little boy digging a hole on the beach and trying to fill it with water from the ocean.  Of course the water all drained out through the sand, and the sand kept filling in the hole as the edges of the hole collapsed.  “You have set yourself a difficult task,” Augustine said.  “No more difficult than your self-appointed task of trying to understand the Trinity,” the boy replied.  If we can’t even understand the form of God, how can we understand deeper things about him?

Familiarity breeds contempt.  When all we remember about God is that he loves us, when we think we understand him, it’s too easy to think of God only as God fits into our own needs and desires.  But God can’t be limited that way.  “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”  It doesn’t mean that we have to be afraid that God will abuse or abandon us.  It means, instead, that we need to remember that God is beyond our understanding.  We see through a glass, dimly; God sees all.  We cannot know what God intends for our lives and the whole world.  We can’t control God’s power.  If a little awe at God’s greatness helps us remember this, that’s a good thing.

Being the Body of Christ

I’ve talked before about the importance of sacraments and why we come together to experience and celebrate them, and also about why we take the time to worship God.  I think today is a good time to talk about another reason why coming together as a community of believers is important.  We are all members of the body of Christ.

1 Corinthians 12:14-31.  Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. ¹⁵If the foot were to say, ‘Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body’, that would not make it any less a part of the body. ¹⁶And if the ear were to say, ‘Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body’, that would not make it any less a part of the body. ¹⁷If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? ¹⁸But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. ¹⁹If all were a single member, where would the body be? ²⁰As it is, there are many members, yet one body. ²¹The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you’, nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’ ²²On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, ²³and those members of the body that we think less honourable we clothe with greater honour, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; ²⁴whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honour to the inferior member, ²⁵that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. ²⁶If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honoured, all rejoice together with it.

27 Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. ²⁸And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers; then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues. ²⁹Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? ³⁰Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? ³¹But strive for the greater gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way.

We in the modern world tend to put all the emphasis on the importance of the individual, rather than the group.  As a result, much of our spirituality is aimed at the individual.  Yet when our spiritual experiences are individually-focused, we miss something.  Each of us has been given talents and gifts by God.  No one person has it all; therefore we must work together for the fullness of God’s gifts to be known.  Paul uses the metaphor of the body of Christ to express this: just as a body needs hands, ears, eyes, and many other organs and parts to work together, so we need other people with other gifts to work together.

Humans were created to be social creatures, working together in mutual love and support, from the very beginning.  Adam and Eve were created as partners; Adam by himself would have been lonely and incomplete, and I believe that Eve by herself would have been as well.  I do not mean to say that humans must be married to be fulfilled, but that we were created to need relationships.  Whether those are the relationships of spouses, friends, family, colleagues, we need others both for companionship and encouragement and help in times of trouble.  And as we are supported in our time of need, so we support others in their crises.  But such connections don’t happen by accident.  They must be carefully nurtured and sought out.

Church is not the only place such relationships can be found.  But it is the best place to find a Christian community.  Now, I’m not being unrealistic here.  I know there are many churches who fall far short of this ideal, where the body of Christ is torn by disagreements, faction, and cliques.  Christians, like all other people, are flawed and sinful.  But we are still called to community, to trust in God’s grace, to forgive others as we hope to be forgiven, to share our gifts for the enrichment of all, and to support one another in times of need.  It is not always easy, and it is not always fun.  In fact, it’s frequently hard work.  But it can bring joy and comfort, and a renewed sense of faith as we learn to truly be the body of Christ in reality as well as in theory.