House of Bread

Christians and their politics November 5, 2010

Every Christian with whom I’ve had any recent communication (including Facebook) was deeply interested in the elections held last Tuesday. Most of them are theologically conservative, which almost always means they are politically conservative as well. One or two would call themselves evangelical, but do not identify themselves as political conservatives. “Progressive” would be a more apt description of their politics.

Excursus: One almost never heard the term “progressive” until just a few years ago. People who now describe themselves as “progressives” were largely content with the label “liberal” until the Republican political establishment successfully redefined “liberal” to mean “a God, mother and apple pie-hating bastard.” When someone was described as a “liberal” by a theologically conservative Christian, it usually meant his faith was surely deficient, if not suspect. Conservative Christians said that “liberal” Christians don’t believe the Bible and, at the end of the day, most of them are really enemies of the true faith. Now, the same judgments are widely made about those who identify themselves as “progressives.” But to be fair, all of this often works in reverse. Christians who are liberal/progressive also pass judgment on Christians who are conservative.

When confessing Christians feel this way about fellow confessing Christians, it is very easy to understand why the political landscape is so polarized. If Christians who are at different places on the theological continuum cannot accept and love one another as brothers and sisters in Christ, how could they possibly respect each others differing political convictions?

A very dear friend who was a pastor once said that he taught his elders that if every one of them submitted to the headship of Christ, they would all come to the same mind about whatever matter was before them. Paul would seem to be on his side in this, for he clearly exhorted the members of the communities he established to “be of one mind” and “agree in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 1.10; 2 Corinthians 13.11; Philippians 2.2).

At the same time Paul also acknowledged that on a whole range of questions, the member of his communities disagreed. There were divergent opinions about marriage, dietary issues, and Sabbath, to name a few. He did not authoritatively resolve questions like these one way or the other, but he did strongly counsel the believes to respect each others sensibilities and convictions and to “accept one another as Christ has accepted you, for the glory of God” (Romans 15.7).

I believe we have no choice but to hold these two things in tension. Believers should strive to be of “one mind,” at least on matters where unity is a necessary thing for community solidarity and cohesiveness, and perhaps also on essentials of the faith. But believers must also honor the gospel’s priority on freedom, respecting the differences that exist among us on a whole range of non-essential things. Especially the political differences.

Political strategists and power brokers are driven by one thing: gaining and keeping political power. If they can exploit for political gain divisions within a community, they will do so. And if they see advantage in widening existing divisions, they will also do so. Politics, in fact, is all about creating division in order to gain, keep and consolidate power. Even when it is done tactfully, this reality must be acknowledged. And, of course, it is often done in obscene and ugly ways. And when Christians allow themselves to be divided by men and women in pursuit of political power, I think it diminishes the church’s glory. Why should we allow ourselves to be used by anyone in their pursuit of power? If any community ought to be sending a message to the power brokers that it will not be divided, it is the community that belongs to Jesus.

Identity in Christ August 22, 2010

“Identity” has entered the lexicon in a big way in recent years. There’s “identity” theft, “identity” politics, ethnic “identity” and sexual “identity,” to name just a few. Identity goes to the heart of something fundamental — who I am. Knowing who I am gives me a vision and, to some extent, a map of where I am going. Identity helps define boundaries and resolve the questions of friendship, membership and associations. Identity, surprisingly to many,  is also one of the central questions of the teaching of the New Testament.

In the prison where I have ministered for the last year, I led a series of Bible studies this summer on the Body of Christ. I did not outline each study with any intentionality; I selected the scripture passages and decided to see what would come out of my heart and mouth as I reflected on them for the inmates who decided to attend. Identity emerged as a large issue, specifically, what being “in Christ” means for answering those thorny identity questions.

The inmates who gathered represented a healthy sampling of the diversity most large prisons offer. The group was colorful, multinational and spoke English with a delightful variety of fluency and accents. They came from a variety of religious backgrounds.

I talked more than I expected about the “new humanity” that has been created in the death and resurrection of Jesus. I talked about the marginalization in Christ of human differences based on race, ethnicity, nationality, wealth, social status, politics and gender. I talked about the early church’s painful conflict over the inclusion of Gentiles. My colleague in these studies talked about the “one anothers” of the New Testament and how they help us flesh out what it means to be one body in Christ.

The feedback suggests that, for some, this was all new and for others it was a timely reminder of what is easily forgotten when the world that is prison life tries to force a Christian to choose a false identity.

The struggle to flesh out one’s identity in Christ strikes me as the chief struggle for many Christians. We cannot change the accidents of our birth, but we don’t have to allow them to determine everything about us. Choosing to be identified with Christ and his body is a daily challenge for me.

As we walked into the prison the Sunday after Ramandan began, I asked the chaplain who escorted us to describe the scene in the religious activities room when the Muslim inmates came together to break the day’s fast. He pointed in three different directions as he described how the Sunnis gathered in one spot, the Shias gathered in another spot and the Nation of Islam in still a different spot. He mentioned how inviolable were those three identities (my word, not his). I remarked that this bore similarities to Christianity. He, a Catholic, protested that this was not so. I replied that we would see about that on the day I approached him to receive communion during the Catholic mass. I will not repeat what he said, but it was surprisingly encouraging.

Confusion about our true identity as disciples of Jesus is perhaps the central problem that needs to be fixed in the practice of our faith. I hope I am up to the challenge when it grows steep, as it almost always seems to, when the brother or sister standing in front of me lets me know what incredible diversity there is among those chosen and beloved by the church’s savior and head, Jesus.

A real life community behind bars May 28, 2010

Last night we attended the “graduation” of about two dozen inmates among whom we minister weekly. It was a warm and satisfying experience.

In April 2009, three members of our house church took up the call for volunteers to begin a faith-based life skills program at a nearby prison. It was October before we began, and after missing several weeks for lock-downs, holidays and bad weather, we completed the 20-session program book two weeks ago.

On the first night we had about thirty inmates, nearly all hand-picked by the chaplain, who has given his wholehearted support to this effort. Some dropped out, others joined us and about half-a-dozen didn’t miss a single class. We set the bar for graduation at 75% attendance, but also accounted for effort and participation, especially in the group discussions.

Last week, when we had a wrap-up time of sharing, several inmates remarked that while they’d expected a nose-to-the-Bible intensive study, they’d unexpectedly discovered one another when we had them begin to discuss their biblical understandings and share from the heart about how they were experiencing God behind bars. I can’t overstate how much joy it brought us volunteers to see how the body of Christ in this prison was beginning to understand that it really can “build itself up in love.”

Over the weeks, more than one inmate has noted how dividing walls of hostility are beginning to come down. The prison system, we’ve been told, actually fosters what one  inmate (formerly a Nation of Islam member) memorably called “tribalism.” Arriving inmates are apparently very quickly sorted and slotted by race, religion, geography and other factors. It’s not the prison policies that are behind this but the ethos of prison life itself, where finding a community — or gang — is essential to survival.

Several inmates spoke last week and last night about how, over these weeks, they came to see beyond race, nationality and culture and to experience community and family with brothers in Christ. English is the common language but it is spoken with many accents, reflecting various cultures and nationalities.

At the close of the graduation last night, one  inmate (who we recognized to have been a regular participant over the weeks) approached us to say that though he was not a Christian, this had meant a great deal to him. Puzzled, we probed and discovered that he had been a member of a pagan sect for about ten years. He was not ready to embrace our Savior, but he was deeply impressed with His community. Music to the ears.

We’ll take a couple of weeks off, but we can’t wait to get back among our brothers behind bars. The Lord has an agenda there and we wouldn’t miss it.

Community. Ah, yes. February 24, 2010

My wife works in a group home for mentally and developmentally disabled adults. She was recently talking about the challenges they face of living in community, challenges that are perhaps unique to those who don’t have the mental or emotional “equipment” most of us take for granted. It was one of those “ah, yes” moments that brought a great deal of the New Testament into sharper focus.

I’m not going to write about what my wife shared. But the conversation immediately made me think about the extraordinary number of words Paul devoted to relational concerns in the Christian communities he planted in the first century. Some of those communities may have included members who had developmental and/or mental disabilities. Most likely, though, the majority of those who would have listened to Paul’s letters being read aloud had similar capacities to those who read this blog. Which makes Paul’s attention to relational concerns all the more remarkable. Here’s a sampling:

“For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ But if you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another” (Galatians 5.13-15).

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6.2).

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you must also forgive” (Colossians 3.12-13).

“I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. Yes, I ask you also, true companion, help these women…” (Philippians 4.2-3).

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4.31-32).

“Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2.3-4).

“Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother” (Romans 14.13).

So where did Paul ever get the idea that Christians needed this sort of counsel? For one, he actually lived in Christian community in Antioch for several years. For another, he planted a number of Christian communities and kept in touch with them. The experience everywhere was the same: Christians are people with passions, opinions, irritating habits, past lives, and dysfunctions. They disagree, rub each other wrong, act selfishly, ignore each other’s needs, say stupid things, get angry, harbor resentments, entertain bitterness, and act as if they don’t know the meaning of love. Yes, Christians do all these things. And more.

Even Paul was not exempt from some of these things.

Many have opined about the “sharp disagreement” Paul and Barnabas had as they began to lay plans for a second church-planting mission (Acts 15.36-41). They could not find common ground sufficient to continue ministering together and so they went their separate ways. Some think this was a set-back for the apostolic work; others think it resulted in something positive. Whatever the case may be, it was the kind of hard-headedness Paul would likely have rebuked in one of the communities he planted. Someone else could well have advised, using Paul’s own words in the Philippian letter, “I entreat Paul and I entreat Barnabas to agree in the Lord.”

Relationships within community are a constant challenge, not just to the disabled, but to all of us. I’ve lived long enough to come to the opinion that, really, we’re all somewhat disabled — by the wounds others have left in us and by our sinful reactions to those wounds. Among the Christians I know, disability is only a matter of degree. It isn’t that some are and some aren’t.  And that is why Paul and others who worked apostolically among the first century Christian communities wrote as they did — encouraging, admonishing, cajoling, entreating, and warning us to love one another and thereby fulfill the law of Christ.

What the “one anothers” tell us about church October 4, 2009

Love one another (John 13.34). Accept one another (Romans 15.7). Serve one another (Galatians 5.13). Forgive each other (Ephesians 4.32). Submit to one another (Ephesians 5.21). Pray for one another (James 5.16).

I expect that many Christians, especially those in a house church setting, have done a study of the “one anothers” of the New Testament, of which a small sample is included in the paragraph above. Most of these are found in the letters of Paul; a few occur in the gospels and the general epistles. All in all, there are least 25 of them in the New Testament and they pretty well cover the waterfront of things to do and not to do in close relationships.

There is nothing quite like a house church or intentional Christian community to highlight just how relevant the one anothers are. In large congregations where the primary gathering is a worship service where few function and most just sing and listen, the one anothers aren’t especially important.

But in small gatherings where face-to-face interaction is the name of the game, they are vitally important. On a Sunday morning in large congregational gatherings, one can avoid the difficult people by going to the other side of the sanctuary. In a house church gathering, this is not possible. Here, one must face difficult people and find some way, with them, to function as the body of Christ where everyone has a hymn, or a word of instruction, a revelation, a tongue or an interpretation and, most importantly, where everything must be done to the building of a spiritual house and a dwelling place for God (1 Corinthians 14.26; Ephesians 2.22).

Paul’s letters suggest just how challenging this is, which is undoubtedly why he included so many of the one anothers in his admonitions to the young churches. The church in Corinth was a mess of disunity, immorality and disrespect. The Philippian church suffered from a bitter division between Euodia and Syntyche. All the churches undoubtedly experienced the challenges of overcoming the historic enmity between Jew and Gentile. There were, apparently, challenges everywhere in churches consisting of rich and poor, slave and free, men and women.

Paul wrote in Ephesians that a mystery hidden for ages had finally been revealed in Jesus Christ — “that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 3.6). Everything that divides has been relativized in Christ so that everyone can become “sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.”

Such a bold assertion challenges everyone to reconsider and repent of prejudice and favoritism. This is where the one anothers become very practical and very important. They are the “down and dirty” means whereby members of the body actually put the theological high ground of Ephesians 3.6 into practice. This is why Paul follows his remarkable assertions in Ephesians 3 with, in chapter 4, a whole array of practical teachings, including these one anothers: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love” (v. 2). ” “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you” (v. 32).

A friend who read my earlier post on “A Pentecost of Love and Unity” reminded me that even after the extraordinary experience of August 13, the Moravians in Herrnhut continued to have significant differences and disagreements even as they commenced the remarkable mission outreach that gave the Moravian Church its own chapter in the history of Protestant missions.

The fact that the New Testament contains more than two dozen statements of how members of the body ought to treat each other tells us just how demanding it can be to live in close relationships as members of the same body, something church history clearly bears out. It also tells us just how much of a divine priority this is. And for some reason, divine priorities don’t come naturally for most of us. But the rewards are worth the work.

A Pentecost of love and unity August 13, 2009

I cannot allow the day to pass without a brief reflection on an important memorial day in the history of the Moravian Church. On August 13, 1727 the Herrnhut community experienced a remarkable visitation of the Holy Spirit during a communion service at the nearby Lutheran Church sanctuary in Berthelsdorf.

Five years after a band of religious refugees arrived on the estate of Count Zinzendorf in 1722 to begin the community known as Herrnhut, deep divisions threatened its existence. Herrnhut had been a magnet for an eclectic group of Christians, all seeking something other than what they had been part of, yet unable to let go of what they each thought so essential for the true church. Over time, the disputes and disagreements over doctrine and practice increased to the point that Zinzendorf, concerned over the disharmony and division, left his duties in Dresden to assume the pastoral mantle. In taking such a role, it helped a lot that he actually owned Herrnhut and, as lord of the manor, could determine that certain behaviors would not be tolerated. These “mayoral injunctions” cooled some of the more extreme and divisive elements.

Apart from this, however, Zinzendorf brought a calming pastoral presence. Visiting each home, he was effective in helping members of the community begin to focus on prayer and lift their sights beyond their own narrow interests. Zinzendorf also helped develop a document known as the Brotherly Agreement. This statement made little attempt to define doctrinal positions. Rather, it outlined a way of living that Christians could generally agree on even if they could not agree on theology. Such an approach to church life has generally served the Moravian Church well over the centuries, though not without many stressful exceptions.

As the end of that summer of 1727 came into view, the mood in Herrnhut began to change. Community members started to see their own faults and sins more clearly and focused less on the perceived sins of others. The Lutheran pastor of the Berthelsdorf church invited the Herrnhutters to a communion service on Wednesday August 13, an odd time to schedule such a service. But the timing was divinely perfect. During the service the Holy Spirit brought a powerful experience of love, reconciliation and unity. No one desired to see it end. Zinzendorf, who was apparently not present, sent food from his kitchen so the community could continue in fellowship, prayer and worship. This spontaneous experience of the ancient agape meal soon became a beloved tradition of the Moravians that is practiced regularly to this day.

This “Moravian Pentecost” has been widely admired and cited by Pentecostals of varying persuasions in the past few decades. A little book written in the 1920s by Moravian evangelist, John Greenfield — Power From on High — which gave a fairly romanticized interpretation of August 13 and the events leading up to it, has had a wide circulation in Pentecostal circles. More recently, the August 13 experience and the Hourly Intercession that it birthed has provided inspiration for many communities and individuals dedicated to 24/7 prayer and intercession.

Something quite real took place in Berthelsdorf on August 13, 1727. It had a powerful effect on those who experienced it. They proved very successful in passing on to their children and others the faith that this event had so animated and enlivened. Within five years, Herrnhut had dispatched its first international missionaries. A near non-stop stream of other dedicated Christians followed them for the next two hundred years, establishing enduring churches on every continent but Australia and Antarctica.

At one time I was so enamored with what took place on the day itself, and in the years that followed, that I did not adequately appreciate the things that preceded August 13 in the spring and summer of that important year. I have more appreciation now than before for the role that Zinzendorf played and for some of the very practical steps he oversaw that helped to set the stage for renewal. In the fireworks of a Pentecostal experience we often forget those who labored beforehand with pastoral skill and intercessory effectiveness.

We live in an age where Pentecostal signs and wonders are desired and sought, at least in some circles. People flock to the arenas where a charismatic preacher or ministry promises miracles. Such displays of spiritual fireworks blind many to the less obvious, but still quite important, ways in which the Holy Spirit is at work to bring about the reign of God.

Those who experienced the Spirit’s visitation in Berthelsdorf on August 13, 1727 could not stop talking about the love and unity that seemed to be the most important and abiding fruit of that day. In an age where Pentecostalism is in the ascendency, it is worthwhile to remember this.

What divides and what unites August 11, 2009

As I watch news clips of the chaotic town hall meetings at which there is supposed to be a reasonable back-and-forth on the pending health insurance reform effort, I cannot help but wonder if any of those doing the shouting and disrupting are Christians. If so, I wonder what kind of back-and-forth they would be able to have on this, or any other hot topic, with fellow Christians.

Summer brings with it the convocations, synods, and general assemblies of several Protestant denominations. More and more, these are marked by sharp disagreements, divisive decisions and the disaffected wondering if they can remain part of the denomination. Earlier this summer the Episcopal Church passed resolutions opening the door to other gay clergy to join Eugene Robinson as bishops and authorizing the development of liturgies for the marriage of gays. The Southern Baptist Convention held firm on the submission of wives to their husbands and the prohibition of women holding positions of leadership over men. Former President Jimmy Carter resigned his Baptist membership in protest (after actually threatening to do so about 10 years ago).

Disagreements and division are as old as the church itself. Luke twice reports disputes among the Twelve as to which one of them was the greatest. Paul rebuked the Corinthian church for its partisan divides. He exhorted the Ephesians to “make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit” and to acknowledge “one Lord, one faith, one baptism and one God and Father of us all….” John, the last Gospel to be written, reports Jesus praying fervently for his disciples to be one.

Some people base their church involvement on finding satisfactory agreement with a checklist of important issues. That is not as important to me as it used to be. What is more important is knowing that differences will be respectfully aired and that the bond of love will not be broken despite the starkness of the difference or the sharpness of the arguments. In addition, it is important to know that if I am in the minority, the majority is not going to use its numerical advantage to get what it knows I cannot  live with, at least at the moment.

I am currently in the process of very likely restoring a relationship that was broken over significant differences a couple of years ago. It is  a slow process, but so far quite encouraging. I know what the differences were and I know that current conversations are revealing new differences. In other words, I know what divides.

And I also know how to make division worse, and that is where I have reason to be hopeful. Avoiding division because of stark differences strikes me as a matter of practicing the art of loving. At a minimum this means simply avoiding the kind of words and actions that make differences the most important thing. In other words, at a minimum love sometimes means “do no harm.”

But I think I know, too, what unites. I believe that Jesus will unite those who desire unity enough to seek him with a whole heart. I know that is an impossibly simplistic statement. I also know what it requires of me, and that’s a bit disarming.