Warning: Sexuality Rant

Monday night I went out to dinner with my wife at a nice restraunt. We were talking about what had happened at the recent ELCA churchwide conference, and I was saying that I could accept the decision of our relatively conservative congregation not to support same-sex marriage as long as they would take a positive stance to welcoming gay and lesbian Christians into our congregation (as seen in Recommendation #2 in Orlando). My wife wondered whether they even have any intention of welcoming gays and lesbians (they claim they do, though this stated goal is patently not accomplished).

As we talked, my wife handed me a scrap of paper that said, "Consider what God says: 1 Cor. 6:9-10" Now my wife and I have very similar views on this, so I thought it was a very odd thing for her to do. It turned out that a woman sitting at the table next to us had handed the note to my wife on her way out, and she did so so subtly that I didn't even notice. So I ran through the verse in my mind, and I thought, "Maybe she thought we were slandering the WordAlone people" (see 1 Cor. 6:9-10).

Then last night I went to a meeting of the local chapter of WordAlone. On the way in, I was handed a brochure about how a congregation might become a member of "an association of confessing churches". I found out after the meeting, that my congregation has already done this! Apparently, if I have the order of events correct: (1) the Common Confession was posted on our web site as what we believe, (2) about a week later, our congregational board voted to approve this confession and join the "association", (3) about a month later, at a meeting of the local chapter of WordAlone, the invitation to join such an association was made "public." Very nice. One of my friends compared it to how the U.S. got involved in Iraq.

So meanwhile, back at the WordAlone meeting that I crashed, we got the pastor's update on what went down in Orlando and his statement that he wants to affirm (1) no more gay bashing, (2) everyone is welcome in our church, and (3) we should be clear that our church believes marriage is between a man and a woman. OK, number three is abundantly accomplished, and number one, giving them the benefit of charity, is a bit subjective. So in the Q&A period, when they accidently gave me the mike, I pointed out that the statement on marriage sent the implicit message that gays and lesbians are not welcome, and I asked if we had considered balancing that with an explicit statement on the web site affirming that they are welcome (I don't see any logical reason a congregation can't be WordAlone and Reconciling in Christ).

Naturally, you don't get to be head pastor at a large church by giving a straight answer to a question like that. But what happened next completely floored me. A woman in the back got the microphone and, looking directly at me, asked why we need to label people -- why we can't just say everyone is welcome (of course because we're all sinners in need of redemption) and leave it at that. In case anyone reading this doesn't know the answer, here it is from the Lutherans Concerned web site: "It is assumed by most GLBT people that they are not welcome in any church unless told otherwise. Even a general statement of welcome is heard as really meaning 'everybody but me,' so it takes a special effort to communicate the same welcome."

So this is where I am today. The conservatives in my church have a majority. They've used that majority to pack the congregational board with their own kind, directly thwarting efforts by our leadership development committee to construct a board that evenly represents the congregation. They've put in place a provision for people to be sure none of their giving to the church goes to the synod or the ELCA. And now they've put us in "an association of confessing churches."

I know the perfect church doesn't exist, but this is ridiculous.

All I'm asking is that they take recommendation #2 from the churchwide assembly seriously. They can affirm, along with the bishops, that they can't bless same sex unions. But will they now accept the challenge to "welcome gay and lesbian persons" into the life of our church? Will they seek to "discern ways to provide faithful pastoral care" to gay and lesbian Christians?

What should I do?

Eucharistic Sharing

As last week's events unfolded in Orlando, a challenge was frequently raised, and not so frequently answered, for someone to discuss the other decisions being made by the ELCA Churchwide Assembly. One of these other decisions that was approved will little fanfare or controversy was the Interim Eucharistic Sharing agreement with the United Methodist Church. I'd like explore that a little here.

First a couple of pieces of trivia about me:

1. I was born on Reformation Day 1969 and baptized in the Lutheran Church in America the following February. My mother was reading Robert Fischer's biography of Luther in a Sunday school class in the weeks leading up to my birth.


2. My middle name is Wesley. I am at least the fourth male child in my family line to bear this middle name, dating back at least to my great-great-great grandfather Josiah Wesley and interrupted only by a pair of Wilson's, the first of whom was born in the early '20s. My grandfather tells me we left the Methodist church because his mother was beaten out for control of the local congregation.

So this is a happy union for me.

I know a lot of people frown on the ELCA's ecumenical activities. It's easy to be cynical. We engage in years of dialogue with another church body, discussing our differences, and then eventually announce that we are more or less in agreement on the relevant issues. To the extent that this is a fair charge, it is a lamentable exercise.

But that's not generally the way I look at it. I tend to take a broad view of the satis est clause in the Augsburg Confession and the corresponding definition that "the Church is the congregation of saints, in which the Gospel is rightly taught and the Sacraments are rightly administered."

There is of course a lot to be discussed in asking whether the Gospel is rightly taught and the Sacraments are rightly administered, and Luther himself didn't exactly set a generous table in this regard. But I for one don't think a theology exam needs to be involved. Is Jesus Christ proclaimed? Are Baptism and the Lord's Supper offered? That's good enough for me. I am a big fan of the slogan that Christ said "Take and eat" not "Take and understand."

All these words, and I still haven't said anything about the recent agreement....

The background material for the recommendation that was appoved in Orlando mentions that last year's UMC convention introduced "an amendment to clarify reference to a common misunderstanding among United Methodists that Lutherans believe in consubstantiation." This is an interesting tidbit. I find that a lot of Lutheran's don't quite understand this either. It's not at all unusual to hear a Lutheran talking enthusiastically about consubstantiation. Oops.

The actual text of the approved recommendation included a call "to now recognize the United Methodist Church as a church in which the Gospel is preached and taught." OK, so we've got half of the requirements for the Church there (assuming we wink at their semi-Pelagianism). I was surprised it didn't go ahead and add "and the Sacraments are administered."

If nothing else came of the dialogue between Lutherans and Methodists, it may have been worth it just to have the UMC produce the document, This Holy Mystery. I haven't had time to consider it in detail, but on the whole it looks like a pretty interesting document.

The introduction begins by explaining what Methodists will get from a deeper consideration of the Lord's Supper. It says:

According to the results of a survey conducted by the General Board of Discipleship prior to the 2000 General Conference, there is a strong sense of the importance of Holy Communion in the life of individual Christians and of the church. Unfortunately, there is at least an equally strong sense of the absence of any meaningful understanding of Eucharistic theology and practice.

That they want to do something about this is something I rejoice to hear. What wonderful things can come of a longing for a deeper encounter with the Eucharist!

My own limited experiences with the United Methodist Church have left me with the impression that their worship is dry. Maybe it's just the congregations I've visited. Maybe it's just my own dependence on smells and bells. Either way, it's not a setting I would want to call home.

One of the things all too often lacking in ecumenical dialogue is any kind of substantial change in either dialogue partner. It would be nothing short of miraculous if Lutheranism could impart a deeper appreciation for the Lord's Supper as a spiritual gift to Methodists. (A serious call to discipleship and spiritual formation would most likely be what they would offer us in return, but I've seen few indications that the ELCA is experimenting with that.)

Later, the UMC document says, "Prevenient grace is that which 'comes before' anything we can do to help ourselves." And suddenly I am sharply awakened from the slumber I was slipping into reading the document. Who let the scholastics in here? Why are we talking to these heretics? I'm out of here!

But they quickly add, "In truth, all grace is prevenient—we cannot move toward God unless God has first moved toward us." The first part of the sentence is encouraging; the second part sounds like semi-Pelagian hedging. Overall, I'll lean toward charity and take it as just a foreign way of talking.

Further along, the document declares, "Holy Communion is eschatological." This is fantastic! I read an essay a while ago by Joachim Jermias where he made the claim that the petition for daily bread in the Lord's Prayer is essentially eschatological and connected with the Lord's Supper. This kind of reflection can really enrich our appreciation of the Sacrament.

But the real queston every Lutheran is asking is, "Do they believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament?" (Not that that has kept us out of communion with other denominations.) On this question, This Holy Mystery proclaims, "Jesus Christ, who 'is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being' (Hebrews 1:3), is truly present in Holy Communion." Not quite an affirmation of Christ's words "This is my body" but on the whole a good start.

Later the document states, "The consecrated elements are to be treated with reverent respect and appreciation as gifts of God’s creation that have, in the words of the Great Thanksgiving, become 'for us the body and blood of Christ.'" That's much better, but I'm suppose anyone who wanted to could wiggle out of it.

The real talking point for me is what we are really going to require. Are we going to insist on a strict agreement that "the body and blood of Christ are truly and essentially present, and are truly distributed and received with the bread and wine."? Are we going to split hairs over what we mean by that?

I'm not suggesting that we relax our own Lutheran teaching on this (although it may be questioned how much it is relaxed or even dropped in local congregations). But to me, the essence of the Lutheran teaching on the Lord's Supper is that Jesus Christ truly comes to me in the Sacrament. Beyond this, I believe in respecting the mystery. I need not know how Christ comes to me, only that he does. I understand the historic controversies in this regard as centering around what seemed to be denials of this basic fact (for instance, if Christ does not come to me in body and blood, he has not truly come). If we get legalistic about our manner of Christ's presence, we are in danger of slipping into a Lutheran scholasticism.

But now I feel like I've gone down a rabbit trail. My consideration of the agreement between the United Methodist Church and the ELCA has gotten all tangled up in Lutheranism. To extricate myself summarily, let me just say, I'm pleased with the Interim Eucharistic Sharing agreement with the UMC. If only we took our theology as seriously in daily practice as we do when in dialogue over ecumenical agreements!

Lutheran Carnival

The first Lutheran Carnival is underway. Check it out here:

http://lutherancarnival.blogspot.com/2005/08/lutheran-carnival-i.html

Friday Beer Blogging

The label in the picture (from the brewer's website) calls this St. Peter's Organic Ale, but the label on my bottle (likely because it was imported to America) calls it St. Peter's English Ale (but notes that the hops and barley were organically grown).



All puns aside, this beer is truly heavenly. It comes in a yellow oval bottle which has some distinct appeal to it. The beer itself has a nice amber color and is slightly cloudy (usually a good sign). It's slightly bitter with zesty hops, and left respectable Brussels Lace on the glass. It was refrigerated when I bought it, but I left it out a while before drinking it and then drank slowly, and sure enough it got better and better as it approached room temperature (warning: don't try this with mass-produced American beers).

I had it with a piece of Vienna bread, which turned out to be a very good choice.

I see on their web site it's available in 9 gallon casks. I wonder what the shipping would be for a few of those....

Night Strike

I complained a while ago about The Oregonian burying a story on local law enforcement officers driving homeless people out of state forests on page C12. Today, I got to see a very nice counter-example. The Portland Tribune, a local bi-weekly paper, had as their top story (including a full-color, above-the-fold, half-page picture) a piece about a local ministry that helps the homeless.

Now Portland has a number of homeless shelters and Gospel Missions, but this ministry looks special. The group is BridgeTown Ministries and the program is called Night Strike. Basically, they get together every Friday night under the Burnside Bridge and hang out with whoever shows up. They offer some food, of course, but their signature service seems to be foot washing. They wash and massage the feet of the people who come to them and offer them new socks. They also offer hair cuts and shaves. Above all, they offer dignity.

The Tribune article included interviews with a couple of the homeless men who come to Night Strike. One man describing the foot massage added this: "And the whole time they’re talking to you. They wonder how you’re doing, what your story is. They listen to you, and they ask if they can pray for you. The prayer is very soothing. It gives you a sense of encouragement and motivation." They listen to you. Imagine that.

In the suburb where I live now I hardly ever come into contact with homeless people, and my life is the less for it. Where I used to live, I took the light rail every day through downtown, and from time to time I'd meet homeless people. They'd approach me and talk to me. They're just about the only people who ever talk to strangers on the train. It sometimes made me uncomfortable, but it was good -- good for me. You get a kind of closeness listening to a person who has few people to talk to that you rarely get talking to people you know. They open themselves up. Reading the story about Night Strike reminded me of that, and reminded me how insulated I've let myself become from those in need.

The other interesting thing about Night Strike, and Bridgetown Ministries in general, is that it is a stealth ministry. It's not really a ministry to homeless people. It's really a ministry to young people. They minister to young people by inviting them to come and help out with this other ministry. They enrich their lives through service. I don't mean to downplay the ministry they offer to the homeless, and I certainly don't mean to accuse them of deception. But they are a youth movement. Their web site looks suspiciously like an emergent church site. It's got out of focus pictures, staff members with goatees, square brackets around titles, no one over the age of 35 (and only the directors over 25), and, sure enough, director Marshall Snider's blog reveals that he is currently reading A Generous Orthodoxy.

One of the complaints I've heard (and made) about the emergent movement is that there's no there there yet. Well, here's one proof to the contrary.

The Burning Bush

I've read two of Lawrence Kushner's books and both of them include a story about Moses and the Burning Bush. The common interpretation is that having the bush burn without being consumed was a miracle that God performed to capture Moses' attention. But Rabbi Kushner observes that for a God who could perform such wonders as parting the Red Sea this is really a cheap trick. Why didn't God do something more dramatic?

Here's where it gets good. Imagine you see a bush on fire. How long would you have to watch it burn before you could tell whether or not it was being consumed? Answer: Three to five minutes. Moses was watching this bush intently for three to five minutes before he could even suspect that something was unusual about it.

So why didn't God do something more dramatic? It wasn't a miracle to get Moses' attention. It was a test to see if Moses was the sort of person who could pay attention for three to five minutes.

The point of this story is that God is everywhere, all around us, but to see God we have to be paying attention. Naturally, we come across similar ideas in Christianity. Daniel Erlander's Baptized We Live talks about the Lutheran way of seeing God in the world, hidden under everything around us. Everything is potentially a sacrament of God's presence. This idea is also prominent in Eastern Orthodoxy. Alexander Schmemann, in his excellent book For the Life of the World, talks about the false dichotomy between the natural and the supernatural that too often shows up in Western Christianity.

The idea is also central to Quaker spirituality. In Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home, Richard Foster tells the story of one meeting where he was encouraging the congregants to wait silently for the Lord, but the silence was interrupted by a cat scratching at a screen door. Later everyone complained about how the cat distracted them except one former missionary. This wise man said he simply wondered what God was trying to say to them through the cat.

I had an experience like that yesterday morning. I was engaged in lectio divina listening to Psalm 13. As I was meditating on the experience of God's absence, I was jarred by a mild roar coming from my back yard. Not being the sort to handle distraction, I broke off my prayer and went out to investigate. What I found was that the sprinklers had come on, but one of the sprinkler heads was being blocked by the barbeque cover causing the noise. As I looked at the patch of yellow grass in from of me (I'm not usually up early enough to hear the sprinklers), I realized that God was speaking.

What Is Lutheranism?

When I first came across the announcement of the Lutheran Carnival, I was excited by the idea, because I truly love Lutheranism and I liked the idea of reveling in it with other Lutherans (perhaps not exactly the point of the carnival, but that's what I think of it). I knew that I swim in different waters than a lot of my fellow Lutheran bloggers, but I thought perhaps a little diversity might be appreciated.

Then as I read the requirements for entries, I saw that the organizers were asking that submitters make a "quia subscription to the Book of Concord." I thought that I was probably the sort of person this meant to disinvite, and I chafed at the idea. I chafed so much that I blogged a complaint.

Then Eric Evers of xphiles fame, a fellow ELCA blogger, challenged my complaint. He said, "it's not exactly unreasonable to expect members of a confessional movement to subscribe to the movement's confessions." I certainly can't argue with that (though I did). His response provoked me to thought, the results of which you are now reading.

Evers described for me a "quia subscription" as believing in the Lutheran Confessions because they accurately teach what the Bible teaches, and he contrasted it with a "quatenus subscription" as believing in the Lutheran Confessions in so far as they accurately teach what the Bible teaches. The thing is, neither one of those positions really describes what the Lutheran Confessions mean to me.

At times, I might use either mode of thought. I do think that the Lutheran Confessions express the truth of the Bible wonderfully. But, in so far as I am a theologian (and that isn't very far), I am not a 16th century theologian (my pen name not withstanding). Thus I occaisionally have issues with the way the Book of Concord (and particularly the Formula of Concord, in its precision) formulates things.

But what do I really think of the Book of Concord? This is what I've been wrestling with since reading Evers' response to my rant. And as I've struggled to articulate it, a good Lutheran theologian came to my aid: George Lindbeck.

In his book The Nature of Doctrine, Lindbeck considers two models of doctrine, which he calls "cognitive" (doctrines are propositional truths which are either true or false) and "experiential-expressive" (doctrines are merely symbols of inner feelings). He rejects both as being inadequate and proposes a third approach, a "regulative" model that views doctrines as rules which provide a framework for thinking and talking about God.

The dichotomy between a "quia" subscription and a "quatenus" subscription is clearly based on a cognitive model of doctrine. It maintains that if we stray from our Lutheran castle then we must be saying, directly or indirectly, that the Lutheran Confession are in some way false. But in fact, I am saying no such thing. Rather it is my intention to sing the same song, but perhaps in a different key.

I have a fairly low opinion of the experiential-expressive approach to doctrine and so I won't even bother to address it.

But I would like to attempt to describe what it means to be a Lutheran within a regulative model of doctrine. As Lindbeck describes the regulative model of doctrine, it sees doctrine as being analogous to the syntax rules that govern how you speak a language. If you violate the rules, what you say isn't just wrong, it's meaningless.

His primary example is the Christological dogmas of the Church. If we are to speak about Jesus, we must speak about him in accordance with the dogmas of the Church as spelled out at Chalcedon, et. al. If you do not speak about Jesus in this way, you are no longer speaking of the Jesus in whom Christians confess their faith.

The first criticism that will come up is that this is a way of behaving as if our doctrines were true without really committing to that truth. But that's not what I intend by it. I would, however, claim that believing in the doctrines and behaving as though they were true can't be separated.

The Book of Concord, as I see it, defines who we are as Lutherans. Along with the Bible, it is foundational to our Lutheran identity. It expounds the Lutheran way of reading the Bible, and if we do not read the Bible in harmony with the Book of Concord, we are no longer Lutherans in any meaningful way.

When I speak about justification, my speech is shaped by, defined by, given meaning by the expositions of justification by faith in the Book of Concord. Though I may seek other ways of expressing what justification seems to me to mean, justification by grace alone through faith alone because of Christ alone will always be the backbone, nay the full skeletal structure of my thought. And I am fully aware that if I stray from it, what I produce will be a grotesque disfigurment.

So, do I make a "quia subscription" to the Book of Concord? Yes, no, kind of, not really.... Can I claim I don't understand the question? But I can say without reservation that the Book of Concord is the shape of my Christian thought.

A curious feature of Lindbeck's proposal is that he isn't saying this is the way doctrine should work. He is saying this is the way doctrine does work, whether we acknowledge it or not. He's not saying, for instance, that the cognitive-propositional model is bad, just that it doesn't account for the way doctrine functions in our churches.

So with what I've said above about the Book of Concord defining who we are as Lutherans, I believe that strongly confessional Lutherans recognize this, and it is certainly true of them. What I'm suggesting is that whether or not we allow our faith and practice to be grounded in the Book of Concord is more foundational than any truth claims we make about it's contents.

This would, of course, still leave the ELCA open to much criticism. A lot of what goes on in the ELCA isn't grounded in the Book of Concord. But it would open an avenue of dialogue, a place of common ground, between those of us in the ELCA who are serious about Lutheranism and those outside the ELCA who don't understand us.

Gnesio-Lutheranism

I happened to find the forthcoming Lutheran Carnival indirectly by way of a link on xphiles but since Eric doesn't want anyone to "harsh on other blogs" there (a reasonable request, really), I'm going to harsh on them here. Now I realize this is a fairly uncharitable thing for me to do, but this kind of thing irritates me enough that I feel like saying something.

Seeing as the Lutheran Carnival is being hosted by the folks at "Here I Stand" I understood that it was going to be from the conservative Lutheran perspective. Even so, I think I'm pretty Lutheran, so I was briefly entertaining the idea of submitting something for the carnival. Then I read their requirements for entries.

Basically, you have to make a quia subscription to the Book of Concord. What does that mean? You have to believe that the Book of Concord is a right and proper exposition of the Word of God. In essence, you can't believe the Book of Concord was a neat historical leap, but we're beyond that now.

Oh darn! I'm not Lutheran enough after all!

I remembering once hearing that you can always spot a cult because they have a Bible in one hand and another bible in the other hand. I had never really thought this applied to Lutheranism, but....

Now I'm a big fan of the Book of Concord. I tend to think it's a very reliable guide to Lutheranism. But if it can be shown, for instance, that Martin Luther misinterpreted Paul (and I think it can be), then I think we pretty much have to go with Paul. I think true Lutheranism requires it.

But if the history of the Book of Concord shows us anything, it's that nothing is quite so authentically 16th century Lutheran as disputes over who's really a Lutheran and who's not.

Friday Beer Blogging

Inspired by Lutheran Chik's "Friday Bloom Blogging" and Lee recent post on American beers at verbum ipsum, and following in the great Lutheran tradition, I thought I'd give a go at Friday Beer Blogging.

My choice for this week is Twilight Ale by Deschutes Brewery.



This is a seasonal that I hadn't had before, but generally I find that you can't go wrong with Deschutes. I usually prefer dark beers, but I was having pizza tonight, so this was a good complement.

At first taste I thought it was very nearly Coors, but as I took a little more time with it the complexity came around -- a decent amount of hops, but not over powering, and just a little bit fruity (kind of like Grolsch). Overall, not at all bad.

"40"

I got hooked up with an online music service last week, and I've been rediscovering a lot of old favorites that didn't quite manage to make the transition from cassette to CD with me. Steve Jobs has said that it doesn't make sense to rent music, but he obviously underestimates the number of albums I'd like to listen to now and then but wouldn't be willing to pay $10+ to own.

Among the old friends I've gotten reacquainted with is U2's War. I was a fan of U2 in the early 80's, but around the time The Joshua Tree came out I decided they were too commercial. But what I've discovered this week is that I didn't really appreciate then how spiritual some of their music was. (Imagine, a teenager overlooking spirituality!)

In particular, I'm currently enamoured with "40". It's a simple little song based on Psalm 40, but the real genius of the song is that it juxtaposes the praise of Psalm 40 with the "How long?" motif from Psalm 6. Here are the lyrics (I leave it as an exercise for the readers to look up the psalms):

I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry
He brought me up out of the pit,
out of the miry clay

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long? How long? How long?
How long to sing this song?

He set my feet upon a rock
And made my footsteps firm
Many will see
Many will see and fear

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long? How long? How long?
How long to sing this song?

What I love about this song is the way it rehearses Psalm 40's confession of God's deliverance, but then throws in the longing, asking "When will I be able to make this confession my own? When will the Lord do this?"

I've said before that I think one of the great things lacking in Christianity, generally, today is this longing for God's action. We spend so much time trying to live an abundant life that we've forgotten how to wait for the Lord.

There's a Generous Orthodoxy conference in Seattle this November that's going to include a workshop on "U2 Theology". The description says:

Why do so many people follow U2 and Bono? Why do many young followers of Jesus think of them as the world’s best worship band? What are they saying with and through their music and why should we be paying attention to their theological tunes?

I've heard their general approach described as "deferred redemption". There's certainly something in that that resonates with me.

On one level, this is probably just a characteristic of my generation (i.e. Gen X self-loathing and longing for God are two sides of the same coin). On the other hand, I think this also ties in with things like Jurgen Moltmann's eschatalogical theology.

What do you think?

Emmanuel Goldstein

I've been thinking recently about Emmanuel Goldstein. In George Orwell's novel 1984 Emmanuel Goldstein is the arch-enemy of Big Brother and leader of an underground resistance movement. But it becomes clear as the novel goes on that Goldstein, to the extent that he exists at all, is actually a tool that Big Brother uses to control and eliminate resistence. Or is he?

This is where interpretation struggles to break free from the author. In Orwell's world, Big Brother is invincible and hope is ultimately crushed. But it seems to me, and it's possible that Orwell intended this, that Emmanuel Goldstein does exert a counter-cultural influence on his society even if he is purely a device the government uses to control the masses. Even if this is true, he touches something in the human spirit and creates hope. Of course, unfulfilled hope is itself a tool that can be exploited to keep the masses in line, but hope is a dangerous thing that always threatens to break free and create something new and uncontrolled.

The recent event that got me thinking about Emmanuel Goldstein was an account I heard of Bob Geldof's remarks before the Live 8 concert. Geldof reported a conversation with Bono in which he marveled at Live 8 being "a final push" rather than an outreach for broader public awareness as previously conceived. This remark struck me as very odd because other than "W" giving public support to Tony Blair's debt cancellation plan (which isn't as sweeping as is needed) it didn't seem to me as if anything had changed. Geldof's remark seemed to be formulated to make people feel good about something that hadn't actually been done. Mission accomplished?

Then more recently I received an e-mail from the ONE campaign with the subject line "You Did It!" What I did was to convince the US Senate to vote 100 million dollars for AIDS relief in Africa. I don't really know the facts on this one, but on the scale of the needs for aid in Africa and the scale of government spending, this didn't really seem all that earthshaking. Especially when compared to:





Finally, last week I read Marshall Frady's little biography of Martin Luther King, Jr. Frady gave a fair amount of attention to SNCC's frustration with King's moderate approach. This brought to mind Howard Zinn's characterization of King in his A People's History of the United States where he all but says King was an unwitting puppet in the hands of the Kennedy administration. Frady's perspective gave a little more balance to the situation, but between the two of them I was able to imagine myself as an earlier sixties civil rights supporter with an uncertain view of what King was really accomplishing.

Of course, Howard Zinn not withstanding, I think history shows clearly what King was actually accomplishing. From my viewpoint in history, he was certainly Moses. But I can imagine that during his lifetime he may have looked a bit like Emmanuel Goldstein.

And this is true of Jesus and all the prophets as well.

I'm not sure where this leaves me. Perhaps the most I can say is that it gives me a new appreciation for the fact that I cannot see today the full effect of what is being done today. The work of God unfolds in history through the work of men and women and we only rarely catch glimpses of it.

The system will always try to co-opt hope for its own purposes, but hope has a power all its own. It may even be that Operation Iraqi Freedom will end up liberating the people of Iraq in spite of the best efforts of the Ministry of Love.

New Orleans

New Orleans is a very fascinating city. While in many ways San Francisco (which I visited earlier in the year) is a city in love with other cultures, New Orleans is indisputably a city in love with its own cultures. If America is the great melting pot, New Orleans is a part that hasn't been stirred in a while. The co-existence of cultures is something to see.

Lousiana has parishes, not counties, reflecting its Catholic heritage, and St. Louis Cathedral is the one immaculate building in the French Quarter which otherwise seems to take pride in being somewhat run down. And yet the short section of Chartres with a street sign naming it Place John Paul II is the daily home of psychics and tarot card readers.

Staying for only a week and frequenting tourist targets it was hard to get a feel for what's genuine and what's show, but on the whole I'd say New Orleans has some great things to contribute to the spirituality of the country.

The Big Easy

I'm heading to New Orleans tonight for a week of rest, relaxation and oppressive heat and humidity. Check back next week for my take on the spiritual state of the city and the swamps.

If I do misunderstand

If I do misunderstand Bonhoeffer, I think it is in this way. My take on ethical positions is largely based on attempting to apply the command to love my neighbor in all situations. I think it's possible that even this is a step away from Bonhoeffer's "simple obedience." Certainly if I used my general stance to go against a clear commandment of Christ, I would be taking a position contrary to Bonhoeffer. I don't think I am doing that. However, my broad application of the command to love my neighbor probably verges on the classification of acts as good and evil that Bonhoeffer speaks against in the opening of Ethics.

Even so, this is the one place where I have a problem with Bonhoeffer as I understand him. The will of God is often not clear enough for simple obedience. What do you do in the mean time?

Bonhoeffer and Braaten

Stream of consciousness warning: if you read this trying to figure out the main idea, you'll be disappointed. There isn't one. I have a couple of related things I want to say, but no central point.

In my remarks on Carl Braaten's open letter to Mark Hanson, I made reference to Bonhoeffer with regard to my approach to the sexuality issue. In several comments on various blogs it was suggested that Bonhoeffer's presence would cure the problem that Braaten points to, but, apparently, I'm part of the problem. Carl Braaten told me I don't understand Bonhoeffer. That can't be, can it? My wife told me she couldn't tell what I was saying. That must be the explanation. I just didn't make myself clear.

Seriously, I realize that I might be misinterpreting Bonhoeffer. I certainly am not claiming that he would have agreed with my conclusions. But I would like to explain my thought process a bit.

I find the following thoughts in Bonhoeffer's Ethics:

Categorizing actions as good and evil is not the business of Christian ethics. In fact, it is counter to it.

The will of God is not a system of rules which can be known at the outset. The will of God is something new in each new situation. Therefore we must always seek to discover anew what the will of God may be.

When we hear the word of God, God is addressing us. This only remains the word of God as long as we respond. Hearing and obeying must be combined. If we try to capture the word and save it for reference, it is no longer the word of God, but only words.

It must be noted in this regard that the will of God is not revealed to us though intuition or personal insight. Rather the word that God speaks to us is the word that we hear. Any meaning contrary to this must be rejected.

The Christians attitude toward the command of God must always be one of obedience. A Christian can never use the word in judgment of another.

This is not my interpretation of Bonhoeffer. This is simply what Bonhoeffer wrote (although all of the above are my paraphrases based on my recollection of his book; there could be some variation introduced there). The last point is critical to my application of Bonhoeffer's teaching, so I will quote exactly what he says. These are Bonhoeffer's precise words (in translation):

If by his knowledge of the law a man has become the judge of his brother and so eventually of the law itself, then he can no longer perform the law, however much else he may appear to reform. The "doer of the law," unlike the judge, submits to the law; the law never becomes a criterion for him such as he might apply to his brother; the law never confronts him otherwise than in summoning him personally to action. Even when he has to deal with a brother who is at fault, the "doer of the law" has only one possible means of giving effect to the law, and that is by performing it himself. ... This does not mean, then, that the doer of the law is content with his own doing and that with a sidelong glance he calls upon God to be the judge of his sinful brother whom he himself is, unfortunately, not permitted to judge. There really is no such sidelong glance here.... There does not remain, therefore, in addition to action or through action, some ultimate possibility of judgment; action is and must continue to be the only possible attitude towards the law of God; any residue of judgment would disrupt this action entirely and transmute it into false action, into hypocrisy.

So that's what I'm responding to in Bonhoeffer. Now my application of it is this:

The question of whether or not to bless same sex unions and ordain individuals in same-sex relationships is the wrong question. The right question, which each of us individually must ask ourselves, is how do I respond to my gay and lesbian brothers and sisters in the faith. We continually get this part wrong, so it shouldn't be surprising that there is so much controversy over the questions which must only be treated after this one has been resolved.

It is observed that no one is against welcoming gay and lesbian Christians in our congregations but this is exactly the same sort of fact as the fact that no one is in favor of abortion. Just because no one is opposed to welcoming them doesn't mean they are welcomed. And the reason they are not welcomed is that the command of God is evaluated rather than obeyed. If asked whether a Christian congregation should welcome gay and lesbin members, I may easily answer in the affirmative based on any number of Biblical injunctions. But do I hear the command to love these individuals as myself as a command of God and obey it?

When I face the question of how I am to relate to gay and lesbian Christians (or non-Christians for that matter), the Bible says to me, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." When I face the question of whether or not to support the blessing of same-sex unions, the Bible says to me, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

But there is a problem here, and it returns me to Braaten's complaint. In what I have just said, I am considering my position as an individual Christian. I am certain that these views are correct for individual Christians. But notice at the very end of my position I am responding to the question of whether or not I should support blessing same sex unions. I am faced with this question because in the polity of the ELCA, I have a say in such matters.

There is no king in the ELCA, and everyone does what is right in his own eyes.

This is deeply intertwined with Braaten's complaint, as may be seen in his reply to John Carlson. Although Dr. Braaten is clearly troubled by the direction the ELCA is headed with regard to the sexuality issues, this is not his chief complaint. He is primarily concerned with ecclesiology. Regardless of where you stand on the sexuality issue, this issue remains. If a majority vote makes the right decision, you still have to ask the question of whether or not majority vote was the right way to do things.

The modern American answer is, of course majority vote is the right way to do things. But is this the Christian answer? Christian teaching about human nature would seem to suggest that majority rule isn't necessarily a good idea. (This, incidentally, is a large part of the reason that America is structured as a representative democracy run through with checks and balances.)

This is a difficult problem for Lutherans because we have a deep-seated mistrust of giving power to a church hierarchy (is a consensus of bishops any more likely to be correct than a majority of lay people?). This also reflects a particularly modern, if not exclusively American, hubris. What do those seminary-trained elitists know that I don't? "All the congregation are holy, every one of them, and the Lord is among them. So why do you exalt yourselves above the assembly of the Lord?" So says Korah (Numbers 16:3, look it up)!

I'm not ready to change my views on the sexuality issue, and frankly I'm not thrilled with the idea of letting a collection of bishops maintain the status quo. But I do think it's past time to consider whether our denomination is organized.

I'm a Weed Too!

I sent my previous post to Carl Braaten, as not doing so seemed a bit like talking about him behind his back. I got a response from him tonight which I will not publish because I wouldn't want it published if I had written it. Suffice to say that it was a rather unfriendly, "if-you-aren't-with-us-you're-against-us" kind of a response.

Thoughts On Carl Braaten's Open Letter

Carl Braaten's recent Open Letter to Mark Hanson has caused quite a splash in the blogosphere. It's encouraging to see the level of interest. The letter is a complaint about the widespread influence of liberal Protestantism in ELCA. Though it may be a bit opaque to lay people, everyone who follows the national goings on in the ELCA will have some feel for what it's about. If you want a clearer understanding, Chip Frontz has posted an excellent guide to the theology of the letter here.

Dr. Braaten is a distinguished theologian, and is certainly well-qualified to raise an alarm such as he has. I am not a person of such distinction, and in what follows it will be apparent that I am a layman and an amateur. (As C.S. Lewis once wrote, "Any theologian will see easily enough what, and how little, I have read.") Perhaps my opinion here can be seen as a view from the trenches.

As I read in Dr. Braaten's letter of "the apostasy that looms on the horizon of our beloved Lutheran Church" I can't help but hear reference to the present sexuality issues. I recognize that his letter is actually addressing a more general theological problem, but all Christianity must eventually be practical Christianity, and right now this is the topic in which the theological controversy is manifested. It's unfortunate that Dr. Braaten does not address this topic directly, because it leaves me unclear as to exactly where he stands and makes his overall argument difficult to evaluate.

I consider myself to be a traditional Christian and a relatively confessional Lutheran. Yet I cannot align myself with the renewing movements in the ELCA that I've come across. The congregation of which I am a member has an active Word Alone group. A couple of years ago, one of the leaders of this group came to me and asked how I, as a vocal admirer of Luther, could support CCM. Now the people in this same group are puzzled as to how I, as a faithful Christian, could hold the views I do on homosexuality.

You see, although I hold traditional views on things like the authority of scripture, I am in favor of full acceptance of gay and lesbian Christians in the Christian community. Notice that I didn't say that I am in favor of blessing same-sex unions and ordaining people in committed same-sex relationships. Being forced to take a position on those questions, I do support the so-called "liberal" side, but those aren't really the things I am in favor of. I am in favor of full acceptance of gay and lesbian Christians in our community of faith. And I believe the Bible tells me that I should be. If that causes me to keep some questionable company, so be it. One of the myths surrounding the sexuality issue is that everyone on the "liberal" side is theologically liberal. It simply isn't so.

But addressing Dr. Braaten's concerns more directly, the issue, as I understand it, is one of where God speaks. Chip Frontz, in his explanation of Dr. Braaten's letter, cited the United Church of Christ's slogan "God is Still Speaking" as symptomatic of a Protestant culture that sees God's will as being revealed in personal experience and in society. I can certainly see the danger there, but I nevertheless do believe that God is still speaking, and I believe that such is a fundamental tenet of Lutheranism.

Karlfried Froehlich observes that while the conservative Anglican J.I. Packer wrote a book on the authority of scripture titled God Has Spoken if a Lutheran had written the book it would have been called God Is Speaking. This is, of course, because of the Lutheran belief that the Word of God is a Living Word which addresses us as we hear it. Dr. Braaten cites Wolfhart Pannenburg to the effect that "a church that cannot take the Scriptures seriously is no longer a church that belongs to Jesus Christ" but I hope he would agree that a church which no longer allows itself to be addressed by the Scriptures is also no longer a church that belongs to Jesus Christ.

Dr. Braaten names Bonhoeffer among those who taught him what it means to be a Lutheran. I also have been shaped by Bonhoeffer, though only through my own understanding of his writings. Although I could misunderstand, I find much in Bonhoeffer's Ethics to support my way of approaching the sexuality issue. In particular, Bonhoeffer says that the word of God cannot be heard and stored away for later use. Rather, hearing and obeying must be united, otherwise it is no longer God to whom we are responding. It is in this sense that I feel compelled to stand in union with gay and lesbian Christians regardless of the theology of those who are also standing with them.

Thus while I do hear the truth in Dr. Braaten's letter, and I share much of his concern, I believe we must be careful in how we apply this concern. How fitting that this letter emerged in the week in which the parable of the wheat and the tares was the Gospel text!

Bearing One Another's Burdens

A certain brother had sinned, and the priest commanded him to go out from the church. But Bessarion rose up and went out with him, saying, "I too am a sinful man."
-The Sayings of the Fathers

The Church today gives lip service to the fact that "we're all sinners in need of redemption," especially in conservative circles, but the idea is hardly ever acted upon. I recently read a collection of sayings of the desert fathers and I was pleasantly surprised to see that they had a real sense of bearing one another's burdens.

I knew the desert fathers (and mothers) had led very austere lives, and I expected spiritual insights, but because of their austerity, I didn't expect compassion, yet I found it in abundance. The chapter on fornication, for instance, is almost entirely about how monks being tempted to lust is natural and should be counseled accordingly (that is, not harshly).

One of the stories tells of two monks who went in to town to sell the mats they had made and to buy bread. When they separated, one of the monks fell into temptation and committed fornication. When they came together, this monk told the other to go back to the monastery alone for he had sinned and was no longer worthy. The second monk said, "Not so, my brother, for when we parted I also fell into temptation and fornicated. Let us go back and confess to the abbot together and do penance." Though this monk hadn't actually sinned, he said that he had so that he could share in his brother's burden.

There's a Jewish tradition that Abraham is more righteous than Noah because Abraham stood up on behalf of the righteous in Soddam. But Moses, according to this tradition, is more righteous than either because he took a stand with the wicked so that God would not destroy them.

This, it seems to me, is almost entirely lacking in the Church today. Who is willing to incur even ill reputation on behalf of another?

I'd been planning to write something about this for a few days, and when I came across the Carl Braaten controversy seemed to me to illustrate the issue. I'm not conceding that it is sin that needs to be shared in that case, but the need to stand together is clear. I want to make clear that I do not think that standing together with gay and lesbian Christians is equivalent to standing together with the wicked. But if we should stand together with the wicked, how much more should we stand with the persecuted. And yet Christians are refusing to do so in the name of "maintaining the traditions of the Church."

It seems to me to be too much about saving face.

Do you believe?

Do you believe in God? Chances are, if you're reading this, you do. Most Americans believe in God. But what do we mean by that? What does this belief look like?

If you believe in the Tooth Fairy, you put teeth under your pillow. If you believe your house is on fire, you gather your loved ones and get out of the building. So what if you believe in God? The answer may not be as obvious as you think. It depends on what you think God is like.

Is God a righteous judge, as Luther believed when he entered the monastery? Is God a source of mystical powers as Simon Magus thought in Acts 8? Is God, as C.S. Lewis suggested most of us would like to believe, "not so much a Father in Heaven as a grandfather in heaven," a kindly old gentleman who just wants everyone to be happy? Is God an other-worldly being who interferes in our lives from time to time?

The kind of God we believe in determines how belief in God will affect our lives.

This is one of the many wonders of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ: he came to show us what God is like. "This life was revealed, and we have seen it," John declares (1 John 1:2). Having seen the life of God in Jesus Christ, he writes his epistle to share this marvelous vision. "We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete."

I said last week that the goal of all Christian teaching and preaching is to change the way people think about the world. It isn't enough to believe in God -- we must know God; we must know what God is like. And that must permeate our lives.

"We declare to you what we have seen and heard," John says. And we too can meet God through prayer. Ole Hallesby says that the best verse in the Bible about prayer is Revelation 3:20, "Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in and eat with you, and you with me." Prayer is an opportunity to be with God, to get to know God.

But those who make themselves the center of their prayer waste this great blessing. "Truly I tell you, they have received their reward," Jesus teaches (Matthew 6:5-8) But when we pray as Jesus taught, we open the door and let God in.

And knowing God, we will be changed.

Global Poverty

You may have already read these comments from Jim Wallis in SojoMail:

While the G8 summit resulted in important steps, we must be truth-tellers about the degree of progress relative to the actual scale of need. While the G8 reached an agreement to provide an additional $50 billion in aid to developing countries with $25 billion designated for Africa over the next five years, an estimated $30 billion of this pledge is made up of money already committed in previous promises. At the summit President Bush reiterated a promise to double U.S. foreign aid to Africa. However, the majority of this doubled aid is being achieved through already promised increases to the Millennium Challenge Account and the President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief, with only $800 million in new money to support initiatives around primary education, fighting malaria, and empowering women. The agreement to 100% debt cancellation for 14 African countries represents a significant step forward, but includes only 1/3 of the countries that desperately need 100% debt cancellation in order to achieve the Millennium Development Goals. These crushing debts must be cancelled through an expedited process that ensures accountability and transparency while removing harmful economic conditions that have previously been attached to debt relief. Little to no progress was made in ending export subsidies and making trade rules more just for the world's poor, and the U.S. continued to block any real progress in addressing global warming at the summit.

I've been waiting to hear something like this. So much of the buzz around G8 was to the tune of "We Did It" and it didn't seem to me like we really had. Bob Geldof was saying things even before Live 8 to the effect that Live 8 was the "final push" and no longer a stepping off point, but I didn't see it. I started to wonder if he was a mole for the other side. Mission Accomplished?

Christian Worldview

"Do not be conformed to this world," Paul says, "but be transformed by the renewing of your minds." Not being conformed to this world is one of the biggest challenges facing Christians today. Maybe it always has been. What could be easier than thinking the way the world thinks and living the way the world lives? But Paul calls on us to be transformed by the renewing of our minds.

The Greek word for repent, metanoia literally means "to change one's mind." This is the goal of all Christian preaching and teaching, to change the way people think about life. Not just to get us to add a few new truths to the long list of things we already believe to be true, but to challenge us to see the world in a new way. The call is to see all things through the Incarnation, Crucifixion and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. These three events have not only changed our relationship with God but have infused all of reality, every last detail, with new meaning and significance.

The Incarnation of Jesus Christ tells us that God loves the world and that we must also therefore love the world. We cannot love God and not love the world. Because God entered into human history, into the real world, our love for the world must also be real and not just theoretical. We must not love some abstract possibility of what the world could become but the actual world in which we find ourselves. And above all we must love one another, and ourselves, in this way – as we are.

The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ tells us that even though God loves the world, there is judgment. The Incarnation calls us to love the world, but the Crucifixion tells us that we cannot simply and uncritically accept the world as it is. We aren't called to imitate God in this judgment, but we must recognize that there is something very seriously wrong in the world.

At the same time, we must recognize that it is God who is crucified in Jesus Christ. God enters into the suffering and even the guilt of the world and in Jesus Christ takes it upon himself. And Jesus sends us into the world also to share in bearing the burdens of others.

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ tells us that God's love triumphs over all suffering and evil. Death does not have the final word. Jesus Christ, having taken the sin of the world upon himself in crucifixion, is raised to new life. And in this lies all Christian hope. God's love for the world has triumphed and God's promise of a new heaven and a new earth has begun to be fulfilled. It began in the resurrection of Jesus, and it continues as God makes each of us a new creation.

"You are the light of the world," Jesus says. We are the light because he is the light and he is in us. When we are not conformed to this world but transformed to new life in Christ, we shine and show the world a vision, not just of how things could be but of how things are. The light we have to show the world is the understanding of God's love in Jesus Christ.

Poverty Is the New Slavery

I was reading my SojoMail today, and I came across this line in Jim Wallis' article on the G8 Summit: "poverty is the new slavery." That's just beautiful. I can't help but wonder if he intended the "pink is the new black" parallel.

It's a delicious double entendre. It is certainly true that poverty, particularly extreme poverty, is a kind of slavery. It's also true that the moral imperative to oppose poverty today is like the moral imperative to oppose slavery in the 19th century (Wallis' actual context). But could it be that the issue of poverty has become trendy? We can only hope.

I would love to see to see white wrist bands join the ranks of red and yellow ribbons. Brad Pitt is with the program. It doesn't get much trendier than that. But I'm concerned. I'm not seeing it on the streets.

The G8 is upon us. Have we generated the necessary political momentum? Among bloggers, the support seems to be strong, but do you hear about it from the people around you? Have you heard any buzz about Live 8? Am I just outside the marketing demographic?

You might hear about debt cancellation on the news, if you listen closely enough, but do you hear about clean water? education? trade justice? agricultural enhancement? electricity?

I still find that when I talk about the issue of global poverty with people at my church, they don't understand the opportunity we have before us. They worry about "just throwing money at the problem". They talk about the corrupt governments in Africa. They complain that we're not even helping our poor here at home. I've even heard the "the poor you will always have with you" line. They want to help the poor, but they're hesitant, skeptical even. I tell them about Jeffrey Sachs and the U.N. plan, but I'm not sure it sinks in.

Jim Wallis says in his SojoMail article, "For the first time the world has the knowledge, information, technology, and resources to end extreme poverty as we know it, but what is still lacking is the moral and political will to do so."

I worry that we lack the political will because people don't realize that we have the knowledge, information, technology and resources.

Coming Into the Light

Whatever our individuals sins, they are to some extent, and probably to a large extent, the product of our history. Often the sin of today is the result of some series of poor choices made long ago, but even those choices, at the time we made them, were conditioned by our environment and our history.

To even suggest, then, that someone's sin would put them outside of God's grace is to suggest that it is the condition of needing salvation which blocks salvation. It would be the cruelest of Catch-22's. Of course, intellectually we know that sin doesn't separate us from God in this way. God seeks out the sinner.

The trouble is, when we're burdened by the condition of sin, we often can't see what the real problem is. I say this is trouble, but it's only trouble for our theory. In practice, God makes his way through the jungle of our condition and finds us. We often describe God's finding us in terms of coming into the light.

For alcoholics, drug addicts and other people trapped in compulsive behaviors, this step of coming into the light is incredibly important. Recognizing that you are an alcoholic is the decisive step in being lifted out of that condition.

It's curious, though, that for gays and lesbians coming into the light is also important, but the result is very different. Whereas alcoholics who have recognized themselves as alcoholics are on the road to change, the healing process that begins with recognizing that one is gay seems to be one of acceptance, embrace and even celebration.

There are no "alcoholic pride" celebrations, and there never will be. A few rowdy frat boys may revel in the idea of being alcoholics, but they aren't really, or at least don't realize it yet. Knowing what it is to be an alcoholic precludes anything like pride.

But this is apparently not so with being gay. The alcoholic can look back at his life and see the extent to which his drinking has brought problems into his life. But when the homosexuals who have come into the light look back on their life, it is apparent that the related problems were caused by a refusal (either their own refusal or that of others) to accept the fact of their sexual orientation.

This should tell us something. If we ignore this, it is nothing less than a refusal to ground our morality in reality.

Born Again and Again

St. Paul, St. Augustine, Martin Luther and C.S. Lewis are among the many Christians whose spiritual journey includes a dramatic momentary turning. Modern evangelicals frequently point to these experiences as the moment when these men were born again, the moment of their salvation. Luther even says he felt like he was born again, though it should be disputed whether he meant by that what modern evangelicals mean.

But I think there is something that Lutherans should learn from these evangelicals, and from Paul, Augustine, Luther and Lewis. We should learn something about commitment. Paul, Augustine and C.S. Lewis all specifically relate their experiences to obedience to God. St. Augustine says, "This was the sum of it: not to will what I willed, O Lord, but to will what you willed."

Ever since I read those words in St. Augustine's Confessions I've had a longing for just that feeling. More on that in a moment.

While I fimrly believe that the Lutheran teaching that we are saved throughout our lives and that this salvation is assured in our baptism, I think that Lutherans should learn from evangelicals that at some point you need to actually commit yourself to following Christ. Lutherans, with our penchant for theological precision, would quickly say that we must commit ourselves anew each day. Very well, but we must, nevertheless, commit.

What I've related to this point has been my thinking on the Damascus Road experience for some time now. But now I must come to a confession and with it something that I learned today, though it was something I already knew.

As I mentioned above, I have had a longing to experience Augustine's feeling of "not to will what I willed, O Lord, but to will what you willed" since I first read his account of it. The power of its effect on his life captivated me, and I wished and hoped that God would do something like that in my own life.

And this wish, as wishes do, took on a life of its own within me. I started to look for it in my prayers. With every new feeling of contact with God I began to wonder, "Will this be what changes me?"

I should make clear what it was I was looking for. I am, and have been for some time, a commited Christian. My faith makes a great deal of difference in the way I live my life. In fact, I don't think it would be too immodest to say that faith pervades my life. Some people might even say I am obsessed with God. But I wanted, and want still to be honest, just what Augustine says: not to will what I willed, but to will what God willed. Stepping back it's easy to see that what I was looking for was what Wesleyans call a second work of grace. It's very un-Lutheran of me, I know.

Eventually, I started to try to manufacture something like the experience I was looking for. I'd convinced myself that it wasn't really a particular work of grace that was need but rather my response. I was moved by William Law's statement, "And if you will here stop, and ask yourselves, why you are not as pious as the primitive Christians were, your own heart will tell you that it is neither through ignorance, nor inability, but purely because you never thoroughly intended it."

So I would decide to become serious about living in the will of God. For a few days it would go well, and I would begin to hope I had finally reached that longed for place. And then I would do something base, something that I couldn't deny came from within me. So I would consider that attempt a failure and conclude that I must try again.

What I saw today is that this is exactly the experience of the Baptist who isn't sure that he "really meant it" when he was baptized before and so goes forward for another altar call and is baptized again.

I needed no doctrinal instruction. I can kick the simul iustus et peccator rhetoric with the best of 'em. Why I didn't apply that to my own life, only my fellow owners of human hearts can know.

Having made this realization, it occured to me that perhaps I already have what I've been longing for. The commitment to Christ that I've been looking for can't possibly be a long, unbroken streak of successful discipleship. It can only be a commitment to keep picking myself up and continue following when I fail.

As Luther says of baptism, "It signifies that the old Adam in us should, by daily contrition and repentance, be drowned and die with all sins and evil lusts, and, again, a new man daily come forth and arise; who shall live before God in righteousness and purity forever."

All this I already knew, but now I know it in a new way. I've connected with it. God help me, I've become more Lutheran.

And what of my longing for Augustine's experience? I'm not certain of this, but I think that perhaps the longing itself is the experience. Is there really a difference between longing to will what God wills and actually willing what God wills? Maybe. But for now I will resolve myself to be content with longing for the will of God to be made manifest in my life.

Bookmania

I hate chain mail but I love books, perhaps chain blogging is harmless fun.

I came across the book meme on LutheranChik's "L" Word Diary so I am now propogating it here.

How many books do you own?

Oooh, I should probably lie about this, but I won't. I'm an absolute packrat when it comes to books. I read voraciously, but I buy even more books than I read, and I never get rid of books. Once in a while I'll give one away if I think it will make a difference for someone. I would guess I have about 700 books on the shelf and probably another 100 or so boxed up in the garage.


Last book bought:

In the mail right now from Amazon (Father's Day treats): In One Body Through the Cross, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought, The Passion of the Lord: African American Reflections and The Renovare Spiritual Formation Bible.


Last book read:

I most recently finished Rebecca Lyman's Early Christian Traditions.

I'm currently reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Ethics (as my blog has shown) and Jim Wallis's God's Politics (for a discussion group), and I'm listening to C.S. Lewis' Surprised by Joy on audiobook.


Books that mean a lot:

Obviously there's the Bible. I don't just say that as a pious requirement. It really does mean a lot to me.

I've got a couple of books, a leather bound edition of Thoreau's works and a one-volume collection of three of John Irving's novels, that my mother gave me with personal notes of encouragement inscribed inside when she was dying of cancer. Quite apart from the content of the books themselves, these are among my most valued possessions.

The Way of a Pilgrim almost single-handedly led me back into Christianity after I had drifted away. As C.S. Lewis said, "A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading."


What magazines do you read regularly?

I don't really read magazines much. I look at the cover of Christian History when I can find it, and read that if it's interesting. The current edition about George MacDonald looks promising.

I just subscribed to Sojourners, having enjoyed their e-mail newsletter for a while, so it may become the one magazine that I read regularly.

Before Baseball Weekly became Sports Weekly I read it regularly. Does that count as a magazine?


Tag Five People:

Like I said, I don't like chain mail, so don't feel pressured, but who doesn't like to talk about books?

Abortion

My wife tells me that, for purely anatomical reasons, I'm not entitled to an opinion on abortion. Nevertheless, I have one. I tend to be considerably more pro-life than the church body with which I am roughly affiliated (the ELCA), but I think it would be a terrible mistake to make it strictly illegal. I understand that I can never know what it's like to be a woman about to choose abortion. I cannot not judge them.

As I finally got to the treatment of some concrete issues in Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Ethics, I found in his stance on abortion a certain resonance with my own view and some interesting additional depth. Here is what he says:

Destruction of the embryo in the mother's womb is a violation of the right to life which God has bestowed upon this nascent life. To raise the question of whether we are here concerned already with a human being or not is merely to confuse the issue. The simple fact is that God certainly intended to create a human being and that this nascent human being has been deliberately deprived of his life. And that is nothing but murder. A great many different motives may lead to an action of this kind; indeed, in cases where it is an act of despair, performed in circumstances of extreme human or economic destitution and misery, the guilt may often lie rather with the community than with the individual.

This last insight is simply brilliant. Abortion is an evil. I don't think there can be any real question about that. But who is responsible? Is it the woman backed into a corner, or the society that backed her into that corner?

In God's Politics, Jim Wallis suggests that Democrats should rethink their position on abortion. He suggests a position which would be decidedly anti-abortion without attempting to make it illegal. A position which would attack the causes of abortion rather than the act. To reduce the abortion rate, he says, we should focus on teen pregnancy, adoption reform and real support for low-income women.

Or we could just tell women they're evil to even think about it. :-(

What Theologian Are You?

Here's a cool quiz which I came across by way of Pastor Frontz' post on the Blog of Concord.

What Theologian Are You?

Apparently, I'm Jurgen Moltmann. And here I didn't think I really understood his books. :-)

What Today Thinks

"Speak what you think today in words as hard as cannon balls, and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict everything you said today."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I think I need to retract at least some of what I wrote recently about Rick Warren. I stand by my comments on Hawaiian shirts, but I need to think more on the significance of his P.E.A.C.E. Plan and even his Purpose Driven Church movement in general.

Sure, the acronym thing is tacky. Yes, his mass consumerism does amount to the McDonaldization of the Church. But he's doing something. He's reaching people.

The thing that drove me to this rethinking was his announced support for the ONE Campaign. One of my chief complaints about the Purpose Driven movement was that it didn't have any particular substance to it, that it was full of vagaries, that its chief goal was to draw people into itself. But Warren's support for the ONE Campaign gives the lie to that thinking. If he's going to engage in actual Christianity, then I have to drop my objection.

Of course, my objection was largely incorrect anyway. As I've said, my congregation is involved with Warren's programs. We've had 40 Days of Purpose and 40 Days of Community. And it has actually had positive impacts on people's lives. It hasn't led to the kind of Christianity that I love, but it was Christianity. It was, perhaps, tacky, but that works for some people.

Fr. Benedict Groeschel says, "Religion exists at a simple level for simple people and at a popular level for popular people." Neither of those appeal to me, but I should not thereby slam them. Whoever isn't against us is for us.

One of the most remarkable things about the ONE Campaign is the way it is bringing together such a broad spectrum of people. Pat Robertson and Bono have come together. This can't be anything less than the work of the Holy Spirit.

Penultimate Truth

"If the hungry man does not attain to faith, then the guilt falls on those who refused him bread."
-Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics

It's a remarkable quality of good theology that it can sometimes help you make sense of things you radically opposed in bad theology. This little sentence from Bonhoeffer's Ethics had just such an effect for me.

I complained recently about Christians seeing their service to those in need primarily as a tool for evangelism. It seems to me to be downright anti-Christian to offer a hungry person food, not out of compassion, but as a way to get them to listen to your preaching of the Gospel. The message it conveys seems to be, "We don't really care about you, but we'd really like to add you to our membership roles."

But Bonhoeffer's statement struck me as truth. At first, I didn't even make the connection between feeding the hungry and evangelism in his statement, I just heard it as a call to feed to hungry. But eventually the connection with evangelism did penetrate my thoughts, and it struck the usual sour note. So I thought further about what he was saying. This also helped me to get a handle on an otherwise rather abstract chapter about the ultimate and the penultimate.

What Bonhoeffer is saying is that the coming of Christ is something we can neither bring about nor prevent. Yet the Gospels begin with John the Baptist crying out "Make straight the path of the Lord." The Lord's coming may be experienced as judgment or as salvation.

Ultimately, only the Lord can prepare the way for his coming. The feeding of the hungry does not necessarily bring with it the presence of Christ. No amount of feeding the poor will bring about a new heaven and a new earth, but it can show the world what it will look like. It can remove obstacles to the coming of the Lord, to the hearing of the Gospel.

The things we do in this world to "be Christ to our neighbor" are intrinsically penultimate things. They can never in themselves be the salvation of God or even lead people to the salvation of God. But the salvation of God can invest these penultimate things with deep meaning.

Good News for the Unfortunate

OK, no Bonhoeffer today. He's riffing on the history of western civilization, and I'm content just to read along. Instead, I'd like to return to a quotation I liked from Rebecca Lyman's Early Christian Traditions. Lyman quotes a fragment of the early Christian critic Celsus (c. AD 178) that is preserved in Origen's "Against Celsus":

Those who invite to participation in other mysteries, make proclamation as follows: 'Every one who has clean hands, and a prudent tongue;' others again thus: 'He who is pure from all pollution, and whose soul is conscious of no evil, and who has lived well and justly.' Such is the proclamation made by those who promise purification from sins. But let us hear what kind of persons these Christians invite. Every one, they say, who is a sinner, who is devoid of understanding, who is a child, and, to speak generally, whoever is unfortunate, him will the kingdom of God receive. Do you not call him a sinner, then, who is unjust, and a thief, and a housebreaker, and a poisoner, and a committer of sacrilege, and a robber of the dead? What others would a man invite if he were issuing a proclamation for an assembly of robbers?

I remember reading a couple of years ago some things that Nietzche wrote against Christianity, but Nietzche twisted the Christian message to make it a proper object of his scorn. Not so with Celsus. If this quotation is any indication, Celsus would have been a good evangelist, if only he saw the beauty of what he was criticizing.

How are our churches doing today? Today when Christian churches are criticized as being congregations of sinners, it is based on observation of our behavior not our message. Have we lost the will to preach good news to sinners, to those devoid of understanding, to children, generally to whoever is unfortunate?

The Love of God

Yes, my little Bonhoeffer-fest continues again today. I really intend to stop somewhere short of quoting the entire book, but this is too good to just leave on the turned page.

Ecce homo! -- Behold the God who has become man, the unfathomable mystery of the love of God for the world. God loves man. God loves the world. It is not an ideal man that He loves, but man as he is; not an ideal world, but the real world. What we find abominable in man's opposition to God, what we shrink back from with pain and hostility, the real man, the real world, this is for God the ground for unfathomable love, and it is with this that He unites Himself utterly. God becomes man, real man. While we are trying to grow out beyond our manhood, to leave the man behind us, God becomes man and we have to recognize that God wishes us men, too, to be real men. While we are distinguishing the pious from the ungodly, the good from the wicked, the noble from the mean, God makes no distinction at all in His love for the real man.

Leave it to a Lutheran to preach the Gospel in a book on ethics!

I read this quote to my wife. She said she liked it. Then I said, "Now apply that to yourself." That's always the hard part. (Please note that I had this exchange with my wife because it was less embarassing than having the same exchange with myself.)

We can appreciate a fresh or clever statement of the Gospel on an intellectual level. We can enjoy hearing the radical nature of God's love. But do we believe it? Do we really believe it? Sure, God loves real people, particular people. But this is still an abstract statement. God loves me. Even this I believe, but if I'm honest about it, I'd probably have to admit that what I really mean is that God will love me once I've been cleaned up a bit. I once read that on the front of his famous sermon "You Are Accepted" Paul Tillich wrote the words "for myself." That's comforting. It's not just me.

This is why Bonhoeffer's inclusion of the world in this passage helps. God loves the world. We don't live under any illusion that the world will clean up it's act someday soon. And yet, God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son.

Even if we imagine God's love for the world to be like someone who finds a tattered antique at a flea market and buys it knowing that it can be restored and made beautiful again, we must face the profound truth of Bonhoeffer's insight. A collector doesn't buy a pot-bellied stove at a flea market so she can turn it into a microwave oven. It's the pot-bellied stove she wants and any restoration is simply to make it more perfectly into what it already is.

But our friend Dietrich had a further insight to offer along these lines. The passage above appears in a chapter on ethics as formation. Not formation in the sense of learning to imitate some ideal standard, but formation as transformation into the form of Christ. He spoke of the form of Christ acting on us and in us and transforming us into this form. And it was sounding an awful lot like the Orthodox doctrine of theosis.

But then he put an astounding spin on St. Athansius' famous quotation. Whereas Athanasius had said, "God became man so that man might become God," Bonhoeffer says, "Man becomes man because God became man."

Behold the wondrous love of God. A selfish love seeks to consume, to assimilate, that which is loves. But God gives Godself to us, not that we may become what God is, but that God may share with us in what we are.

Judgment

Bonhoeffer writes:

If by his knowledge of the law a man has become the judge of his brother and so eventually of the law itself, then he can no longer perform the law, however much else he may appear to reform. The "doer of the law," unlike the judge, submits to the law; the law never becomes a criterion for him such as he might apply to his brother; the law never confronts him otherwise than in summoning him personally to action. Even when he has to deal with a brother who is at fault, the "doer of the law" has only one possible means of giving effect to the law, and that is by performing it himself. ... This does not mean, then, that the doer of the law is content with his own doing and that with a sidelong glance he calls upon God to be the judge of his sinful brother whom he himself is, unfortunately, not permitted to judge. There really is no such sidelong glance here.... There does not remain, therefore, in addition to action or through action, some ultimate possibility of judgment; action is and must continue to be the only possible attitude towards the law of God; any residue of judgment would disrupt this action entirely and transmute it into false action, into hypocrisy.

This is, I think, pretty much what I was trying to say last month in my post about God's law and civil law

The Will of God

I've made it through the first chapter of Ethics, and it's one of those things that's so rich in ideas that I knew I wouldn't retain any of it if I didn't try to make some notes. Here's what I've understood of it (my apologies beforehand for the gender-biased language, it's in the translation I'm reading and it's all I can do to keep up with this thought as it is without remapping this). If anyone is familiar with Bonhoeffer's thought, please let me know what I've understood or not understood.


In the knowledge of good and evil man knows himself apart from God. He knows his own possibility of being good and evil. He sees himself as something separate from God. As such, the knowledge of good and evil creates disunion between man and God (also between man and man and man and the world). To use Martin Buber's language, man develops an I-It relationship with God, others and the world.

"Instead of seeing God," Bonhoeffer says, "man sees himself."

Man experiences this separation as shame, shame at the union he has lost, shame at not being covered by God. So, he seeks a covering. He seeks to create his own good.

Jumping now to the Pharisee (largely as a type, though based on the Biblical class by that name)... Bonhoeffer has a very realistic image of the Pharisees. He refuses to demonize them or trivialize what they hoped to accomplish in their lives. He recognizes that their life was a sincere attempt to live a life pleasing to God, but they did so by seeking to create their own good.

The Pharisee sees every moment as a conflict in which he must choose good over evil. Jesus, by contrast, does not allow himself to be drawn into these conflicts (see Matthew 22). Jesus sees only one thing: the will of God. The Pharisee tries to navigate through disunion. Jesus lives in union.

The goal of Christian ethics then is to live in the will of God, not to choose good over evil. So how do we find the will of God? The will of God, according to Bonhoeffer, does not force its way into the human heart. It is not simple or obvious. It is not a system of rules that can be known before hand. "The voice of the heart is not to be confused with the will of God." "Direct inspirations must not be heeded or expected."

Instead, intelligence, discernment, observation and whatever other powers the human possesses, pervaded by prayer, must be used to seek the will of God. Past experience warns and corrects. In the end, one acts in the confidence that God acts in him. The presence of Christ is decisive.

Jesus Christ, Bonhoeffer says, occupies exactly the same space in the believer that was previously occupied by his knowledge of good and evil.

"It is evident that the only appropriate conduct of men before God is the doing of his will."

Hearing and doing must not be separated as though the word of God could be stored for later use. This always becomes judgment. Hearing and not doing is seeking knowledge of good and evil. Hearing and doing is the only way of doing the will of God.


I'm not entirely satisfied with his resolution of how one may know the will of God, but I think it is meant as a thing to be experienced, not a thing to be understood. Objectively, it can never be true, it can never be recommended as a step-by-step plan for knowing the will of God. It must be lived. It requires faith.

Bonhoeffer's Ethics

I began Bonhoeffer's Ethics today.

It occurs to me that this may very well be the only book of ethics ever written while the author was actively contemplating taking the life of another human being. I can only imagine the urgency that this added.

In Fear and Trembling, Kierkegaard considers the problem of Abraham being asked to sacrifice Isaac, and he asks, "Is there such a thing as a telelogical suspension of the ethical?" Bonhoeffer faced this question but without the distance of abstract speculation.

But if I've understood what he's written so far, I think Bonhoeffer would reject the question. I think he's saying the teleological is the ethical. The ethical is not a matter of dividing right from wrong, good from evil, but rather it is being united with the will of God.

Good and Evil

I visited my sister-in-law today to help her with her computer, while I was there I visited the nearby Powell's Books and found a copy of Bonhoeffer's Ethics on sale for $6.

The knowledge of good and evil is seems to be the aim of all ethical reflection. The first task of Christian ethics is to invalidate this knowledge.

Yeah. I've got to read that.

Roadside Religion

Listening to NPR this morning, I was thrilled to hear them mention Frostburg, Maryland. I grew up in Cumberland, Maryland, about 10 miles away and went to college at Frostburg State University. It's a fairly rural area and so it's always a surprise to find evidence that the rest of the world knows it's there.

The NPR story was an interview with author Timothy Beal about his new book, Roadside Religion: In Search of the Sacred, the Strange, and the Substance of Faith. He said that he got the idea for the book when he and his family were driving along Interstate 68 in Maryland when he saw a sign that said "Noah's Ark Being Rebuilt Here" and he just had to stop and see it. That sign is in Frostburg.

From the time I got my driver's license until I moved to Oregon, I drove on 68 nearly every day, and during college I drove past the "Noah's Ark Being Rebuilt Here" sign nearly every day. I never once stopped to see it.

The sign was kind of a joke in the area. I can't remember when the sign was put up, but it was years before any part of the ark was visible. We never thought they'd really do it. Then one day these red girders showed up.

It's a very odd enterprise. People there still wonder about it. The last time I went by it was still nothing but girders. It's been more than 30 years since Pastor Richard Greene had the dream that led him to undertake this project, but he's patient, persistent, faithful.

Faith is indeed a strange thing.

Purpose Driven Reformation?

Purpose Driven Pastor Rick Warren, at the recent Purpose Driven Church Conference, encouraged attendees to work toward a "new Reformation".

From the Purpose Driven website:

Warren told the church leaders in attendance that in his travels around the world he has noticed four coinciding movements in Christianity.

First, the church is exploding in the southern hemisphere, particularly in Africa and South America. Second, Purpose Driven Ministries is bypassing old distinctions between denominations and nationalities and unifying the church worldwide. Third, Warren believes God is revitalizing the local church. Finally, new technologies such as the Internet have helped to build a global, de-centralized network of churches that allows congregations to communicate with one another more quickly and efficiently than ever before.

These four observations, Warren believes, are the framework of the second great reformation of the church. Through this reformation, Warren expects to see:

• a complete mobilization of ordinary believers.


• a rapid multiplication of churches.


• the complete eradication of the five global giants (spiritual lostness, ego-centric leadership, poverty and illiteracy).


• a new cooperation between churches around the world.


• the complete evangelization of the planet.

As someone who attends a Lutheran church that identifies itself as "Purpose Driven" I have to admit to being more than a little ambivalent about this. On the one hand, I'm happy to see someone doing something. I'm really happy to see an evangelical movement that mentions things like poverty and illiteracy. I've seen first hand that a lot of really good things can come out of this.

On the other hand, I really don't like this kind of Christianity. Part of it is aesthetic. Aside from not liking Hawaiian shirts, I don't like most praise songs and it makes me uncomfortably when people get weepy during ordinary prayers.

But aside from that I have problems with the theology behind all this. It's hard to say why because you have to really dig to find the theology amid all the hype. And what you do find isn't so wrong that you can say, "black-and-white, that's wrong." It's just misdirected. We can do better.

At the PDC conference, Rick Warren talked about his "P.E.A.C.E. Plan" (Plant churches, Equip servant-leaders, Assist the poor, Care for the sick, Educate the next generation). If you go further and ask what makes the "P.E.A.C.E. Plan revolutionary, you'll find out that it is P.L.A.N.S. (Purpose Driven, Led by small groups, Attacks the global giants, Networks church to church, Sends to the whole world). I'm not making this up.

What can I make from the acronym G.O.O.F.Y.?

I'm reminded of a line from The American President: "People [in the desert] don't drink the sand because they're thirsty. They drink the sand because they don't know the difference."

I really do think it's great that Rick Warren and company are trying to make a difference. I really hope that God will bless these efforts and bring something wonderful out of them. But I also hope God will have mercy on the Church and let our cream rise to the top and not our grease.