Mis-ap-pope-pri-ation

Most have become aware of the current controversy surrounding remarks made by Pope Benedict XVI when he quoted a Medieval text that described the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad as "evil and inhuman." While some have noticed how this occurrence reveals, in comparison to Pope John Paul II, a weaker gift for diplomacy and might even suggest a further splintering within the Roman bureaucracy, I am more interested in the meaning of an apology.

Pope Benedict has been quoted as being sorry for "the reaction" his words have caused within the Muslim world. I truly wonder if this kind of apology passes the muster of an appropriate form of authentic repentance. Even while he says that he does not personally agree with the text he quoted (which begs the question; "why then did he use it?") and how he hopes this will help create a healthier dialogue between world religions, his apology is found lacking.

For example, how would we feel if every time someone apologized to us, they said, "I'm sorry for the way YOU have reacted," or better yet, what if we said to God, "I'm regret God how YOU have reacted to my behavior." Both seem to reveal a defiance that counters the very sentiment that warrants our saying sorry in the first place. This appeal is a sort of "have your cake and eat it too;" being able to say we are sorry without prompting any admission of wrong doing or offering any promise to insure a similar offense will not occur again.

That's why this stunted form of an apology hardly leads to reconciliation or the ways that work toward peace. In contrast, Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount often encourages his followers to go the "extra mile," to offer more than is required, to take the next step toward being peacemakers.

I fear we have lost the power of this kind of redeeming discourse in our civic conversations. We are so concerned with being right that we have forgotten how to be humble. It would seem that Christians would be those who might embody a better way; teaching through behavior and by the careful use of words how to keep the focus of religion on offering healing to a troubled world. But who I am to suggest to the pontiff what he should do? Maybe I should just say, "I am sorry for how you feel the world has misunderstood you?"

How much fun was Jesus?

This past Sunday, one of the fastest growing churches in Lexington had a big festival day on the grounds of their church. They are our neighbors and a few of our church members brought me several of the promotional postcards they had sent to the community. There I first learned of their planned activities including: a petting zoo, hot air balloon rides, fireworks and baptisms. Of course, if you didn’t receive a postcard you might still have noticed the 2006 Pontiac they had suspended on a crane some 30 feet in the air as a door prize for those attending.

Right away, I should say that I don’t question their freedom to reach out. Their strategy has proven highly effective in reaching a younger adult population. In fact, from the little I know, they remind me of a youth group for grown-ups. Which makes me wonder? What explains this new reality on the landscape of American evangelical Protestantism?

I can remember that during the 80’s and most of the 90’s, many large churches were built around “big issues.” “Abortion, homosexuality, Biblical inerrancy, prayer in public schools,” and “taking America back from the secular humanists” dominated the discourse. Those I knew in the Christian community who attended such churches were very certain of the “rightness” of their convictions. They were crusaders in the public square seeking converts to their interpretation of the times.

Now I wonder if the pendulum in American evangelical Protestantism has swung in the opposite direction. After all, these “moral” issues in politics and society were seeking to be remedied by an energized church prior to the 21^st Century. Now (with help from 80’s superstar Cyndi Lauper); “Do Christians JUST want to have fun?” The younger crowd is not interested in being moral crusaders because it means they also have to be smug and superior. They are attracted to a more non-judgmental style that is more open and free.

No doubt, the rationale for this newer approach highlights the unconventional style of Jesus who changed water into wine, was accused of hanging out with the wrong sort; all who drank and ate too much and continually thumbed his nose at social and purity boundaries of first-century Palestine. In contrast to the rigid moralism of his day, Jesus was a “fun guy” indeed.

But we don’t live in a society like the historical Jesus. Instead, we are saturated with a pleasure-dominated culture that thrives on entertainment and selfish interests. I truly wonder (and ask myself as a Christian minister), if Jesus walked the streets of this land would he look more like a prophet or a party animal?

The fine line I am hoping to ride into the new millennium is a sort of confident humility that is willing to be more accessible and approachable while maintaining a strong advocacy for those who are oppressed, marginalized and forgotten. The danger I notice in the evangelical community is how easily it bows down to the powerful. The first surrendering seeks the protection of the establishment and the second “selling the soul” favors our desire to be entertained. Neither appears authentically Christian.

As American Christians, we should be aware of how quickly we can become blinded by our own power. We can assume we are superior and never question our methods. We can be so consumed by our riches and distracted by our selfish pursuits that we never really care. Meanwhile, a world full of war, hunger, AIDS and injustice looks over the waters to the most powerful nation ever known and wonders, “What does it mean that so many of these fellow pilgrims proudly consider themselves Christian?”

I’m not against having fun. I just hope for more. I am certain that Jesus asks far more of me. Maybe some day we can see the church as a fun place to be concerned about someone other than ourselves; where we give away a car to someone who least expects it, but needs it, where we laugh all the way to the bank to withdraw some money for the poor, where we fall down with hilarious fits of pleasure that God could do something really good (and truly world changing) with the likes of us. And who knows? Maybe the “church of the carnival” will arrive there before me. If so, that’s a joke I’ll be sure to share.

Interfaith Cooperation

In my work with the interfaith community, I have noticed a distinctive characteristic that is necessary for effective collaboration. In fact, I have often found greater affinity for those who exhibit this trait (regardless of their religious sentiments) than those who share my particular Christian background. This characteristic (or maybe skill) is the capacity to transcend one's particular religious (even non-religious) tradition. It plays itself out in the following ways:

• An ability to be self-critical - These individuals are able to discern and articulate the weaknesses within their own tradition and are not ashamed to discuss them.
• An ability to affirm the legitimacy of another perspective-This is not the same as agreement or endorsement. It does appreciate and recognize how a different tradition makes sense for those who follow it and a willingness to affirm and protect the rights of others to practice religion as they choose.
• An ability to listen before speaking - I've noticed that those who are not in a hurry to express their deeply felt commitments are usually (and strangely) more confident and humble in the promotion of their ideas.
  
• An ability to always be a learner - Even though these "transcenders," seem to have a very broad and comprehensive knowledge of their faith and others, they are always willing to learn something new and are open to the pursuit of truth even if it means adaptation or change.
• An ability to be gentle, kind, compassionate, generous and encouraging - Isn't this the hopeful outcome of all religious disciplines?

I can only hope that I able to transcend my tradition as well.

God's Table - A Communion Meditation

More is here than bread and wine. At this communion table we discover a living drama of death and hope; of suffering and comfort, of mystery and salvation.

Here we talk about the suffering body of our Lord who took break and broke it saying his own personal body would also become broken. At this table we remember the Lord taking a single cup and proclaiming his blood would be spilled in the hope of bringing us all together into a wider covenant, all drinking from this one cup.

Over the centuries, Christians have written about this table. By our words and witness we speak of things concerning the body of Christ. While Christ-followers have held different perspectives and unique emphasis, all have agreed. At this table we have touched the tangible grace of God.

On this flat surface, we lay down the son who suffered; now limp and damaged, murdered by fear and power, the result of even our own personal flaws and failures. From his sacred head to his pierced feet, this expression of God’s love was found with a form and function we could understand, yet became mangled like a piece of sausage. Our ugly and shameful vulgarity shouts our assault upon the persistent goodness of God, a goodness the crucified one maintained even to his final breath.

He is not alone on this table. There are others with him. The tortured and executed Christ encompasses all who have suffered and who will ever suffer. This table is the make shift stretcher for the child whose once perfect body has been marred by war. It is the hospital gurney carrying the bloodied and battered victim from some recent trauma. It is the solemn casket holding the vacant shell of a person dearly loved and sorely missed.

Here we find a home for every tear ever shed, a haven for every heart ever broken, and a tender respite for every person ever shattered. At this table, we are invited to see within and through these images to the very presence of a God still at work within the devastation of the creation we have dishonored and alongside the human family, all made in the divine image that we have wounded.

At this table, God holds the son and welcomes the sinner. The son gave it all in love. All who honor him may be strengthen by his example. In his life and death, he teaches us how to keep faith in a world gone wrong, how to practice love in a world full of oppression and violence, how to never lose hope in a world appearing lost and condemned.

Here we are held by these divine hands. At this table, the one who began our lives,with loving patience, picks them back up mixing our brokenness with the son’s; giving us a blood transfusion, a heart transplant, a new spirit, a new future, a change from the inside out, a promise so permanent that even darkness and death cannot harm it. Here we are being trained to be the church, the still working body of Christ in the world.

Yes, there is more here than bread and wine at this table. It is nothing short of the presence of Christ, the power of God, the renewed dream of the creation’s first wish. Thanks be to God. Thanks be to the Christ. Thanks be to the Spirit, Amen.