Collateral Damage

This week, in stark contrast to the Christmas celebration, those churches who include certain saints' days and other observances in their calendars observed the Martyrdom of Stephen (Dec. 26) and Holy Innocents (Dec. 28). This year, churches following the Revised Common Lectionary and Calendar will read the gospel from Matthew 2:13-18, which is the same reading as for Holy Innocents.

"Holy Innocents" is the title given by the church to the infants of Bethlehem slaughtered by King Herod in an attempt to be rid of Jesus, proclaimed to him by the Magi as the new "King of the Jews." Though there is some historical question of whether the massacre actually occurred and how many infants might have died if it did occur, historians are generally agreed that Herod certainly could have ordered the deaths. (He did, after all, kill his own sons, one of his wives, and several other members of his family.)

Of course, in Matthew's story line, the attempt to kill the infant Jesus is also part of an historical reenactment by Jesus of the travels into and out of Egypt by the Hebrew people, where he and his parents flee to, and reside in, Egypt until after Herod's own death so that, in Matthew's words (quoting Hosea), "Out of Egypt I called my son," directly comparing Jesus to Moses.

But to use a phrase coined by the US military, probably during the Viet Nam War, the Holy Innocents were "collateral damage." The point of the death warrant was Jesus, but just to be sure, included any male child in Bethlehem under age 2. The movies usually show the massacre as a massive slaughter, but historically, the number actually slain would have been closer to a half dozen, possibly as many as 10 or 12. Yet, in terms of morality, one would have been too many.

In the history of the world, the number of innocent deaths due to the predations of war and civil unrest are astronomical. And the ethicists and theological moralists continue to debate when and whether murder becomes simply that form of justifiable homicide now labelled "collateral damage." Today's news, telling of the carnage at and after the assassination of Prime Minister Bhutto in Pakistan, includes this phrase. Some hairsplitters have claimed that, if it's done by a terrorist, it's murder, but if it's done by the military or other agents of a legitimate government, then it's only "collateral damage."

But, really, how much difference does it make to those on the "wrong end" of the bullet or the blast? When and how is it possible to justify the deaths of the innocent? Read more about this at Common Dreams.

Christmas Toys and More

I read bumper stickers. There are lots of things I wouldn't know if I hadn't seen them on bumper stickers. The wisdom of our day. Two I've seen many times over the years showed up again recently on the same day and got me thinking about their combined message.

The first was "The one with the most toys when he dies, wins." This is, of course, a comment on the materialism of our day--the mad drive to shop and acquire--that infests our culture. Of course, at this time of year, we're not thinking just of general materialism, but Christmas materialism, in particular--that drive to spend and overspend, to stress already-maxed credit cards and deplete savings in order to decorate and to pile mounds of brightly-wrapped packages under picture-perfect Christmas trees.

Growing up, I wondered if every "preacher" I'd ever heard had been required to prepare one or several sermons against "Christmas Materialism" as a condition for ordination. I knew that, every December, we'd be "treated" to one, or even two, of these sermons. Now we can blog.

A partial antidote for this drive, I've found, is living in Florida. Here attics, basements, and storage sheds are scarce. So many, if not most, Floridians are faced with the prospect of taking something to the curb every time we bring something new home. Or if not to the curb, then to the local thrift shop or church rummage sale.

But we do live in a culture which encourages us to "spend, spend, spend" and to always yearn for the next new thing. And we've not yet developed an antidote.

The other bumper sticker I again encountered is: "The most important things in life aren't things." Living far from family--from children and grandchildren--and having a spouse with a serious life-limiting illness makes it easy for me to relate to this bit of wisdom. What I really want "under my tree" this--and any future Christmas--is family and folks who are important to us.

I saw a bright red Corvette with a For Sale sign the other day. And it again helped me confirm that I'm not yet ready to start my "mid-life crisis." (I've been told that life's hardest decision is when to start middle age.) I'd much rather have a year of health for those I love than a red Corvette, if I can "pick my presents."

May the ill find health, the destitute hope, the persecuted justice, the oppressed freedom, the warred-upon peace, and our world life in all its fullness. The peace and hope of Christmas to you and to all you love.

Hedging Bets

Tomorrow's (Advent 2) Gospel from Matthew 3:1-12 presents the picture of John the Baptizer preaching his "baptism of repentance" at the Jordan River, "and the whole district made their way to him."

Yet, in the midst of this story John becomes irate because he sees (probably prominent) Pharisees and Sadducees lining up for baptism. The writer of Matthew seems to assume that his/her readers understand John's anger, but it's not so clear to us today.

He was upset because the Pharisees would believe that they already "had things right with God" but because they believe in the life in the world to come probably figured they should "get baptized" just in case there was something they needed to repent for but didn't know about.

He was upset because the Sadducees (the word means "the righteous ones") also believed they were righteous and not in need of repentance, but they did not believe in a world to come--no afterlife.

John looked beyond their actions and looked into the conditions and intentions of their hearts. They were not there because they truly believed they needed to turn their lives around, but were simply trying to live out the maxim, "better safe than sorry." They were insincere and John knew it.

The message in the story is that it matters how we live. Our intentions and our motivations matter--and how they are lived out in our actions matters also. Let us in this season of sincerity be certain that our love is true, that our wishes for health and happiness are real, and that, where we have the opportunity, that our caring and giving be truly generous and open-handed.

To use a 60's phrase, John's message to us and to our world is "get real." We have more than enough phonies.

The Nazareth Manifesto

The history of the Christian Church has been one of turmoil and tension. Sometimes the trouble has come from "outside," but most often it has come from internal stresses, dissent, and power struggles.

Today is no exception. In the USA, nearly every "mainline" denomination is besieged within and without from forces tearing at the fabric of their very being. After the Disciples of Christ, some of the Baptist denominations (particularly The Alliance of Baptists and The American Baptist Churches) are very close to the UCC in doctrine and polity.

Over the past 30 years, we've witnessed the breakup of the Southern Bapist Convention, and, more recently, similar attempts to disrupt the American Baptist Churches. Out of this turmoil a new effort is underway, called the New Baptist Covenant, spearheaded by former presidents Carter and Clinton and leaders of several Baptist denominations and fellowships.

One of the related efforts is development of a video titled "The Nazareth Manifesto," which discusses Luke 4:18-19 as Jesus' "mission statement" and a call to the church to be about social justice. You can click the play button to view the 5-part (14 minutes) video. If you're not Baptist, just substitute "Christian" wherever you see/hear the word "Baptist" in the video. The message is not just for Baptists, but all serious (particularly those of us who think of ourselves as progressive or liberal) Christians.

Advent

Sunday, Dec. 2, was "Christian New Year's Day" as I often call it. It was the "First Sunday of Advent," the beginning of the Christian Year. For many Protestant Christians, Advent, as one of the "seasons" of the year, is a season of confusion. Many of us just aren't sure what to do with Advent.

Perhaps this will help a little: Advent is to Christmas as Lent is to Easter.

So Advent (approximately 4 weeks) and Lent (40 days) are seasons of preparation leading up to Christmas and Easter, respectively. In some places Lent has been, traditionally, a time for encouraging unbelievers to embrace Christianity--the occasion for the "spring revival meeting" in many churches--while Advent has been the time when Christians who've "dropped out" are encouraged to "Come Home for Christmas."

In any case, Advent can, and should, be a time when Christians and non-Christians are invited to think about peace, reconciliation, health, and wholeness and how these values can be better exemplified in our own lives, as individuals and as communities.

If we want peace, then we need to find a way to become peaceful and to work for peace; and here's the hard part: we need to do it in ways that don't provoke more strife and anger. Conflict and warfare are not the path to peace.

If we want reconcililation, then we need to find ways to mend fences with those nearest to us--members of our own families, our neighbors, our enemies, and the person who sits near us in worship each week. It may mean that we have to make the first move, rather than wait for the other person to "go first."

If we want health, then we have to adopt and begin to live a "healthy lifestyle." This is not to be confused with dieting, losing weight, exercising, or body building, though these things--judiciously applied--might be part of a healthy lifestyle. The healthy lifestyle means avoiding things which damage us and, at the same time, adopting habits which repair past damage and promote health for the present and future.

If we want wholeness, then we have to remember that we need to be healthy, not just physically, but also mentally and spiritually. We need to examine our beliefs, our priorities, our assumptions about "how the world works." We need to examine our attitudes and motivations and intentionally work to let go of those which damage us and those around us and, of course, work to adopt new attitudes and motivations which provide for health.

Advent, as a season of preparation, can truly be a time when we prepare for the year ahead, when we take an active role in our own lives. Someone once said there are three kinds of people: those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who say, "What happened?" Advent people are the first kind.

Thanksgiving

First in Virginia, years later in New England, English settlers--those who had survived the Atlantic crossing and harsh living conditions, whether they'd come originally for "God, glory, or gold"--took time to thank God that they had something to share with each other and that they had their lives.

Today many of us will sit down to bounteous meals--the largest meal of the year, whether we're rich or poor, whether we're homeless or not. Many will eat today knowing there's "more where this came from." Others will eat today and begin wondering again tonight if there will be food and clothing and shelter tomorrow.

Those of us who have more are ever challenged to share with those who have less. This is one of the central principles of living a Christian life. Our goal is that everyone may be able to give thanks--on each Thanksgiving Day and on all the days in between.

May God who has richly blessed us make us a blessing to others.

Cloud of Witnesses

Sunday (Nov. 4) our congregation celebrated All Saints' (traditionally observed on Nov. 1) along with many other Christian churches around the world. Having grown up in one of the "ahistorical" denominations, All Saints was one of those things I discovered as an adult exploring the wider world of Christianity.

In the church of my youth, it was "there was Jesus and the apostles...then later our congregation was established and here we are." What happened between the apostles and us was treated as irrelevancy. Yet, a lot has happened these 2000 years that has helped shaped us and influenced us today.

All Saints is one of those reminders that we, in this generation, didn't "invent" Church nor, as Paul points out, did the "gospel begin with us." We are heir to a tradition, whether we acknowledge it or not. Our "convictional genes" are part of our Christian, and our particular denominational, DNA.

We are who we are because of who they were--as that phrase in the book of Hebrews reminds--that "great cloud of witnesses" of all times and places, who faced "dungeon, fire, and sword," who remained true to the Christian faith as they understood it.

We don't own our DNA--it's something we receive, hold in trust, and pass on. Some day future generations will remember us as part of their "cloud of witnesses." May we be found faithful.

A Touch of Color and Song

Each year about this time, the mornings are often gray, and showers come almost every day. But also, about this time, a bit of color flashes past my window on a fairly regular basis.

A pair of cardinals (members of the finch family) show up about this time each fall and seem to take up residence in a tree of the house next door. Then they spend a lot of time flitting back and forth between the houses, foraging for tasty tidbits and singing their cheerful songs.

I know cardinals aren't supposed to be migratory, and I don't have a clue where they spend the rest of the year, but this pair sure know how to brighten a gray autumn day in otherwise sunny Florida.

Touching

In this week's Gospel text from Luke 17, Jesus heals ten lepers. As in most of the stories of healings in the Gospels and Acts, touching is involved--Jesus (or an apostle) touches or is touched by another person. In fact, a significant number of the "interpersonal encounters" recounted in Scripture include a mention of touching in one way or another.

Today, we laugh at Mr. Monk (on TV) because every time he has to shake hands with someone, he needs "a wipe" to clean himself after the contact. We DO laugh at him and chuckle over his "obsessions and compulsions." Yet, there's a booming market today for hand-sanitizing lotions, sold "in bottles small enough to fit in pocket or purse." We go to the supermarket and are offered a towelette to clean off the handle of the shopping cart in case the last user left some nasty germs behind.

In church many people are leery of sharing in Communion because they might "catch something" from the loaf or the cup, because others have had to handle them. Instead of hugging, many folks just give a "hiya" gesture and instead of kissing someone on the cheek we give "air kisses"--making a smooching noise in the air somewhere near them without actually making contact.

Often, we fail to notice that the hand sanitizers and the household cleaners and the pest control we use to try to rid ourselves of the "bugs" around us are never 100% effective. In fact, they kill only the weaker "bugs" and "germs" leaving the stronger ones to come after us later. And the commercials remind us of that--"kills 99.9%" they say--but that 0.1% is still there and growing. We can fear them--or not.

Touching is a human need--some touching can, indeed, be inappropriate and pathological--but the kind of touching that conveys warmth, caring, genuine affection, and, particularly, comfort in times of fear and pain and mourning, is something our souls yearn for.

Jesus touched--and healing happened. He lived boldly rather than fearfully. How, then, should we live? Do we treat others as "lepers"? Do others treat us that way?

Friends

As morning gets underway in our part of the world, I listen to the birds outside greeting the morning and each other with their various songs. Thinking of songs, my mind moves to a quote I heard recently: "A friend is someone who learns your song and will sing it for you when you forget or can't sing it for yourself--and will continue until you can sing it again."

The world is full of acquaintances--people we know by face or by name--people we'll nod or smile at when we pass them in the aisle at the store or on a Sunday morning before or after worship. But when the line is crossed into friendship--when we begin to learn and sing each other's songs--we realize we've found someone who will sing us through the tears, through the dark times, until we can again greet the morning.

Each of us may have many acquaintances, or even several true friends. Who knows your song? Whose songs do you know?

Nonviolent Living

This Sunday we begin a new study course based on The Powers That Be and "The 'System' Belongs to God." The book is the condensation of Walter Wink's "Powers" trilogy and the video series records his discussions with James Forbes and Janet Wolf about the main themes, claims, and theses in Wink's work.

To put it in a nutshell, the main thesis is that violence is not an inherent part of our nature, nor of society's--that it's "added on" rather than "built in"--and that we can seek and find means to learn to live and coexist with others in nonviolent ways.

Looks like this will be an interesting course. If you live nearby, grab a copy of The Powers That Be and come join the discussion. --Or start one where you are.

To Hear and To Do

Several recent conversations, some in person, some online, have gotten me thinking and then clarifying a very broad taste in music. And not just music, but for this post, I'll limit my comments to a musical metaphor.

Someone commented that his taste in music was very narrow, limited to a single musical style; thus, he knows that style and the names and titles very well, but all he knows about other styles, performers, and groups, is that, since they're outside "his" style, he doesn't care for, nor expose himself to their "sound."

I've often said that in my house, on any given morning, one might hear Mozart, Bach, Handel, Dolly Parton, Kathy Mattea, the Beatles, the Eagles, Chant (in any of several languages, including Latin and Russian), and/or several dozen other possibles.

While my friend might be said to have musical taste "one inch wide, but a mile deep" could it be said of me that my tase is "a mile wide, but an inch deep"? On reflection, I think not. Here's why.

My friend is "stuck" with one specific "style" of music, and--good or bad--it's all he will voluntarily listen to. He listens to the "style" and compromises on "quality." I realized that what I want from the time I spend listening is to listen for the quality, no matter what the style happens to be. It doesn't matter if the medium is classical, C&W, R&B, Jazz, R&R, gospel, or what, but the singers and players need to be excellent in performing and interpreting the musical work they're presenting.

This is what I also hope for the Sunday Liturgy, that what I/we offer to God is done as Gabe Huck would say, "with style and grace," and also, with passion. There are musical styles I prefer and there are liturgical styles I prefer, but leading, participating, or observing, the more important standard should be the quality of our effort, rather than the style we choose to express it. For this I always pray.

When "Inside" and "Outside" Meet

It's a time of year that many Americans come alive in ways related to how particular sporting events influence their "emotional center." Professional baseball fans whose teams are in the "race for the pennant" become reinvigorated as the long season begins to draw toward a conclusion. The jockeying for a prestigous bowl bid and a national championship finds countless college football fans already in a dither and just as many basketball fans swept up in eager anticipation before the season has even begun.

The momentary glow experienced by American soccer fans which was sparked when David Beckham came ashore has been renewed with the rise of the American team in the women's World Cup play in China. And the new professional football season has many of us--myself included--already anticipating Super Bowl glory for our favorite team--and, vicariously, ourselves as well. (I confess, as I'm typing this I'm sitting at the keyboard wearing a Steelers t-shirt--I have several!)

We Americans, in general, love our sports--whatever the sport may be--and possess a passionate emotional involvement in our favorite teams and/or stars. Pull into the parking lot and walk into any stadium or arena or sports venue in America and the spirit is truly tangible and infectious. Those "plugged in" to the unfolding event are caught up in it and carried along with it. (And those who find no such interest or connection mentally twiddle their thumbs and count the seconds until the thing is over.)

In America's churches many of the same phenomena can be observed--and experienced. In some places, the music and the singing and the movement (whether incidental or integral) often serve to get worshippers' "hearts started." For others, the anticipation of hearing a legendary pulpiteer hold forth gets the "juices" flowing. Still others quake at the prospect of "meeting God in the Eucharist." Sometimes--some places--that "tangible spirit" can be felt at the threshold--or even out in the parking lot--as one approaches the worship space.

Many of us depend on the event "outside" to generate feelings and emotional involvement on the "inside." Just as many seem able to kindle and nourish a glow or an "inner fire" which rises up from within and seems to flow outward to connect with the larger spirit present and grows brighter as the "spiritual momentum" builds.

In other words, some need to connect to an outside source in order to get ourselves spiritually and emotionally involved in worship--we need a set of "spiritual jumper cables" to connect us to an energy source and get us going. Others seem to maintain an inner energy that's there--like a fully-charged battery--which keeps them energized and invigorated between "events."

Do you need something "from outside" to "reach in" and get you going? Do you need the music or a speaker's passion or something else to motivate you? Is it easy or difficult for your inner spirit to connect with the outer spirit alive in a group or event or place? What does it take for your "inner" and your "outer" to get together, commune and grow?

Coming Unstuck

Progressive and liberal Christians have always chided the so-called "religious right" for their literalism, rightly so, I believe. However, literalism is often a bugaboo for those of us who consider ourselves progressive or liberal. Sometimes it's called "political correctness" (PC), sometimes it's not named, but "there" nevertheless.

Marcus Borg, in one of the units of the video course "Living the Questions" (both series 1 and 2 of the course)--and in other venues--explains how this phenomenon "severely erodes" Christian witness.

His thesis is that modern Western culture is the only culture in history to insist that "truth and verifiability" are required to go together--to our damage. He notes that, when we are very young we view the world with "pre-critical naivete" and take things pretty much as we hear them (stories of the tooth fairy, Santa Claus, the virgin birth narratives of Jesus, etc.). As we grow older we move more or less automatically into the next phase of "critical thinking" where we begin to sort out which stories of our childhood we'll continue to believe and which to dismiss. This is also the stage where questioning and evaluating new information for truth and verifiability sets in.

He notes that this skill can be valuable and adaptive, but also warns that it can also become a ruthless taskmaster and destructive if allowed to develop into cynicism. We do need a means for sorting truth from tale, but need to be careful and set limits for our scepticism.

He argues that we need to be able to bring "post-critical naivete" to bear on some situations and also to be able to disconnect truth and verifiability where we need to. This is because, often, the truth (or truths) of a story do not depend on whether they "really" happened in such-and-such a way, at some specified time and place.

He notes that, though we move automatically from "pre-critical naivete" to "critical thinking," we don't automatically move on to "post-critical naivete." To get there--to get "unstuck" from the rut of "critical thinking"--takes an act of will. But when we do, we can then reevaluate the stories of our youth, and the stories we've acquired over our lifetime, and reappropriate them as true stories--for the value that they have to inspire and motivate and encourage--without getting into divisive and destructive arguments over whether or not they happened as historical events in "just this way."

I've been told many times, "If you're really a progressive, then you can't say those things and you can only say these things this way...." But that comes from getting stuck in critical thinking and robs us of our ability to find the truth in the metaphor. It also makes us quite as literalistic as our friends on the "religious right."

So when we come to doing Christian Education or to participation in the Liturgy, when we find ourselves "mentally editing" our language and our participation as we go--falling silent on certain lines of a hymn, or when we come to certain phrases of the affirmation of faith, or in explaining the meaning of a parable or a miracle--we can end up severely crippling ourselves, not to mention our students.

According to statistics the so-called Boomer and Buster generations have been some of the most "detached" and "critically-thinking" oriented generations in history. Yet we're seeing a massive turn toward (or back to) mysticism and mystery in the next generations (the so-called Gen-X, Gen-Y and "echo boomers") now growing up and maturing. They seek to enjoy and seek out mystery--particularly in religion--and select for what we Boomers have so often dismissed as "outright myth," as "smoke and mirrors," or "smells and bells."

Perhaps it's time for the church to begin again to revisit our Story, to see it again, as Borg suggests, with "post-critical" eyes; to recover the sense of awe and wonder and to "get unstuck" from our "hard-headed" insistence that every thing and every event must be sorted, categorized, and demystified. Jesus said something about becoming "as little children" did he not?

Tikkun Olam

This past summer and this fall I'm reconnecting with the work of Walter Wink, through the books of his "Powers Trilogy" and his book which more or less condenses the trilogy, The Powers That Be. This reading together with facilitating the study course "Living the Questions" (LtQ) has sparked the renewed interest.

In LtQ, numerous references are made to the "myth of redemptive violence," the "Domination System," and "principalities and powers." The first two are terms Wink uses and defines in his writing; the third, by Paul in his letters.

Wink holds that an analysis of the creation myths of many religions around the world (particularly those which influenced modern Western and Middle Eastern societies in both their sacred and secular aspects) reveals that violence is a "given"--part and parcel of the fabric of existence, both of individuals and of peoples. In these models of reality, violence is "who we are."

Wink also points out that the creation myth of Genesis 1:1-2:4a presents a radically different picture of creation in which violence plays no part in the creation of the world or its peoples. In this model violence is something which may be "added on" but which is certainly NOT "built in." In fact he suggests that the Hebrews who recorded this creation story did so intentionally as a direct refutation of the violence-saturated stories of their neighbors. The strong theme of this premise is that, if we've learned to be violent, we can unlearn it and live another way.

The 16th century Jewish mystic Isaac Luria is the first author known to use the phrase "tikkun olam" which is usually translated into English as repairing, or healing, the world. He poses a different, but interesting, story of how the world became "broken" but his proposal is essentially the same: we are invested with the purpose of healing the world. (You can read more about Tikkun Olam at such sites as www.innerfrontier.org/practices/tikkunolam.htm.) This is a vital--not simply an academic--question for progressive Christians as well, particularly for those of us who are coming/have come to believe that the concept is central to understanding the true meaning of Jesus' term "Kingdom of God" (or, as Wink reads it, "God's Domination-free Order").

Building on our initial experience from this summer's LtQ study, we are planning a fall study on "Principalities and Powers," which goes deeper into Wink's theses and which ultimately asks us to confront the question with how we--as individuals and as a community--intend to participate in Tikkun Olam.

Things to Do Before I Die

This will probably be the first of several posts around this topic. Last week I received a note from a high school classmate (we just marked our 40th reunion, for those who could make it). She had gotten and modified one of those list of Things to Do Before I Die. This one had 10 items, but a Google search reveals hundreds of thousand of web pages devoted to the topic with lists running from 10 to 1000 or more things, depending on the author. There are also a number of books now available on this issue as well. (I wonder if "making a lot of money selling a book" is on those authors' lists!)

Most of the lists I've seen, including the one forwarded by my classmate are, unsurprisingly, "me-centered." Such lists include lots of travel and sightseeing destinations (Galapagos, Mt. Everest, Venice, even the space station) or daredevil events (drive a race car at 200 mph, climb Everest). Which, of course got me thinking about my own aspirations and what I consider worthy and memorable achievements.

Here's the start of my list:

1. Have a relationship with your true soulmate, your best and truest friend, and your life's partner, and realize they're all the same person.
2. And have that esteem, affection, and love reciprocated most willingly.
3. Tuck your children in at night and watch them sleep.
4. Tuck your grandchildren in at night and watch them sleep.
5. The feeling that comes with having a grandchild recognize your voice on the phone and actually talk to you--and include at least one spontaneous "I love you" in the dialog.
6. Enjoy every sunset and sunrise I have the opportunity to behold.
7. Be happy living most everywhere I have occasion to live. Find something good about every place and enjoy it.
8. Realize that when some folks ask my opinion they really do want to know what I think and feel on an issue--and value that opinion.
9. When I die folks will mourn, rather than be relieved to be rid of me.

I'm stopping at 9 so I can think more about this. That way later I can come back with a revised list as I move toward a list with numbers that end in zero. What's important to you?

Useless or Useful?

I've said in other places that one thing I appreciate about the Salvation Army is that there are no "inactive" members. If you "join" the Army, you put on the uniform and go to work--there's no place for pew sitters, or "Christmas and Easter" members, or inactives.

Yet many churches have and continue to add to long lists of inactive members, seemingly fearful or incapable either of letting them go or insisting that they meet and maintain some reasonable level of participation. In one church I pastored for a while the minimum requirements for being maintained on the "active" list was contributing at least one cent per year OR attending one worship service per year OR in being elected (or appointed) to some office in a given year (no requirement to actually discharge the duties of that office). Someone once said that if we expect the minimum, we shouldn't be surprised when we achieve the minimum.

(Here, let me make it clear that I'm NOT referring to those who are unwillingly absent and/or inactive due to age, illness, or injury, but to those who can participate fully, but won't.)

Yesterday's second reading (Sep 9, 23d Sunday of the Year, Philemon 1-21) is built around the character of the slave "Onesimus" (which translated, means "Useful" or "Benefit") and the pun Paul (which translated, means "Pee-wee," and Phlemon, translated might mean "Sweetie" or "Kissy-face") uses to contrast how and when Onesimus has been "useful" or "useless" and how Paul desires his continued usefulness in service to the gospel of Christ.

And a principal part of Paul's appeal to Philemon is that Philemon not inhibit Onesimus, but allow him to continue to be of maximum usefulness--thus living out the meaning of his name.

Each of us who have taken the name "Christian" at our baptism is daily confronted with the choice to be and to remain useful; we, too, must decide to be "Onesimus" or someone else; we, too, must determine if hanging out on a church's inactive list is the best place to be.

(The notes in this post about the punned translations of names is to point up the fact that nearly every page of the Bible includes some joke or humorous item--most often a pun of some sort. Unfortunately, most of these are lost in translation and/or not translated, so we miss a lot of the joy and jolity of those who wrote the Scriptures. And, of course, the whole text of the letter to Philemon is a pun on "Onesimus.")

Living the Questions

We've recently completed our first encounter with the study course "Living the Questions" (www.livingthequestions.com) and are now rerunning several sessions for those who missed those sessions the first time around. LtQ has been so well-received that we've acquired LtQ2, which is the new edition of the course, intending it for this winter. LtQ2 is organized a 3 7-session courses rather than the single 12-session course of the original LtQ.

LtQ is an introduction to Progressive Theology, and the "faculty" (presented by DVD) includes such folk on the current theological scene as Borg, Ammermann, Crossan, Sample, Townes. The challenge students to consider how they feel and what they truly believe about numerous issues--questions--of the past century so they can decide how they choose to live in this century. Some of the questions discussed are "biblical authority," "biblical authorship," "facts about the historical Jesus," and what our scripture, history, and doctrine call us to in the 21st century.

At one point, Crossan summarizes the focal issue for us, "It has begun. Are you with the program?" The "it" is the imperative Jesus presents to us in our day to live both as a people of faith and as a faithful people. For the "faculty" of LtQ and for us, the questions relate less to "what do you believe?" but "how do you live?" Another faculty member provides one answer to those who inquire, "Come see how we live and work--see what difference this makes in our lives."

These and other issues continue to be living concerns for those of us who take the Bible "seriously but not necessarily literally." What questions of life and living keep you awake at night? Do you have a secure and safe place to discuss your questions? Are there people you can trust to hear you and work with you to engage those questions as you examine potential answers? If not "in church," where? Churches which offer LtQ (or LtQ2) as part of their curriculum are very likely places such as this. Pilgrims' (www.pucc.info) is one.

Can We Trust the New Testament?

The title of this note is also the title of a 1977 book by Bishop John A.T. Robinson which I've reread a number of times. Most recently, I read it while facilitating sessions of the "Living the Questions" (LTQ) course in progress at Pilgrims'.

Several members of the "faculty" of LTQ are members of "the Jesus Seminar" which, like most post-World War II Christian scholarship hold that most of the New Testament (NT) books were written decades--generations--after the days of Jesus and the beginning of the Christian church. However, it is seldom pointed out that all of the bases for this "late" dating of the NT books are founded on untested, largely unexamined, and unverified assumptions. These assumptions, for the most part, were the product of the "German School" of theologians working in the late 1940's and '50's and, in my view, were based on the assumptions--not of First Century patterns of writing and authorship--but on their own 20th Century patterns of writing. It appears that their controlling hypothesis was, "This is how we do it, so that's how they must have done it."

From such assumptions come the hypotheses that Mark, the shortest gospel, was written first--because it's the shortest and scholars' first editions are always shorter than their later editions. And that, because Mark was thus first, then Luke and Matthew copied from Mark, adding their own material gathered from other sources.

As Robinson notes in his book, the arguments also try to explain away the "difficult sections" of the NT books by making them the work of second or third generation Christians, rather than eyewitnesses or companions of the eyewitnesses, and slotting their work in the 70's and later of the First Century CE, and into the early 2nd Century. Robinson also comments that the selection of target decades for the hypotheses is interesting because the 70's in particular are a decade we really know little about.

Robinson concludes that there is no hard evidence and no serious reason for the late dating of the texts, strongly suggesting that, both the early lore of the church (cf. Eusebius, et al) and the internal evidence of the texts (none mentions the fall of Jerusalem in 70 CE--a cataclysm which would hardly have gone unnoted) may be yet more reliable. His timeline puts the authorship of the NT in the 45-69 CE range and also makes room still for development of proto-gospels prior to that.

His conclusion? The NT is probably more trustworthy than less, particularly when understood better in its own context.

Whence & Whither "Liberal"

In recent weeks we've heard the word "liberal" used in ways we're not accustomed to. What makes a sermon or a worship service "liberal"? How does it differ from a "conservative" sermon or worship service? What makes the person(s) designing/leading/delivering it "liberal" or "conservative"?
Do the words "liberal" or "conservative" really have any meaning at all in our day? Did they ever?