The Lutheran Zephyr 2.0

So Help Us God (or Virtus)

2009-07-08T15:51:28-04:00

I never imagined how "holy" an experience it would be to register at the courthouse for authorization to legally offiate at weddings.

I provided papers proving that I am a called and ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (We call you to exercise among us the ministry of Word and Sacrament which God has established and which the Holy Spirit empowers, one of the documents reads).

I provided $29 in cash, bearing the words In God We Trust, as payment of the courthouse's administrative fee.

I took an oath which concluded with the words So Help Me God (and yes, in a strange feat of government orthography, the first letter of each word in that phrase was capitalized).

And to top it all off, as I walked into the Arlington County Courthouse I passed the seal of the Commonwealth of Virginia, which prominently features the Roman goddess Virtus.

All this God-talk is required so that I can be authorized to declare a marriage legal. I'd expect God-talk in the church and in preparation for my ordination, but to formalize a state-sanctioned, legal relationship? I don't see how such language is necessary, to be honest.

One thing this experience has taught me is that when it comes to God's role (or the role of ancient Roman dieties, for that matter) in our state and society, I think we're a confused lot ...

(Click here for more of my admittedly radical perspectives on the separation of church and state.)

Time Keeps on Slippin'

2009-07-05T22:56:19-04:00

(This post first appeared in the July 2009 edition of my church's newsletter)

In early 1977 Steve Miller’s “Fly Like an Eagle,” reached #2 on the Billboard Top 100 chart. Nineteen years later it was covered by Seal, and reached #13 on the pop charts. It is a song familiar to generations of listeners.

Less notable was the performance of “Fly Like an Eagle” by the Haverford Middle School Chorus in 1987, when a group of 12 and 13 year-olds – who were in diapers when the song was first released – sang the piece while trying to keep from laughing at the absurdly obvious refrain, “Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future” (like, where else would it go, we wondered?). Perhaps we adolescent members of the so-called “Generation X” weren’t tuned into the existential ponderings of our parents’ generation (a generational gap that continues beyond adolescence to have significant impact, I believe, on how our respective generations look at institutions such as government or the church, for example … but that’s the stuff for another article).

Time is slippin’ into the future, a reality that is catching up with me these days. Time management is one of the central challenges I face in my new life as a parish pastor. To be honest, time management was never my strong suit, but now as I juggle a variety of interests, responsibilities and ministries, and a schedule that includes nights and weekends, I struggle to prioritize or find a balance. I am experimenting with a new day off (Mondays) and am seeking other ways to use the gift of time wisely as I live into my vocations as pastor, spouse, and parent. This juggling act is something that many of you confront, as well.

At the synod’s Confirmation Camp, held during the last week of June at Mar-Lu-Ridge Lutheran Camp, 70 kids, 12 faculty members (mostly pastors), and 20 camp counselors recalled the life and ministry of Jesus. As we recounted a selection of Jesus’ miracles and parables, it felt like time was slippin’ quite quickly into the future! We began on Sunday evening with Jesus’ baptism, and by Tuesday Jesus was betrayed by Judas at the Last Supper. Yet on Thursday Jesus was raised from the dead, calling on his followers – in this case, the youth attending Confirmation Camp – to go into the world proclaiming the Good News of God and serving all in his name. That afternoon we were engaged in service projects at a community center, a nursing home, a local congregation, and at Mar-Lu-Ridge camp itself.

I reflected on this quick passage – or slippin’, to use Steve Miller’s lingo – of time and wondered what was next. That is, at Confirmation Camp time slipped quickly into the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection, and we responded with acts of love and service. But then camp ended, we packed up, and went home. Did God’s time stop slippin’ when we all got back onto Route 15? I don’t think so.

We live in an in-between time, a time that is slippin’ into God’s promised future, but which is also shaped by God’s mighty acts as recounted in Scripture. From the Exodus and the Exile, to the Sermon on the Mount and Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives, our present and our future is grounded in a blessed past. This past tells us a story of God’s unending mercy and grace, of a God who turns again and again to his people in love. This past sends us on a path of promise looking forward to a new kingdom, a new creation, a new reality that indeed has been breaking in since Jesus’ baptism. God’s promised future is slippin’ into the present.

Time keeps on slippin’. In my daily life, I’m going to try to keep time from slippin’ too far, too fast, or too hectically into the future. But in God’s time, I’m grateful that time keeps on slippin’, for each minute that passes is a gift from God, an opportunity to witness his love, a chance to be grounded in sacred promises, ancient and future.

Reflections on Church Unity and Bishop Hanson's Letter

2009-07-02T16:06:48-04:00

Yesterday the Presiding Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America released a letter on Christian unity as our church prepares for a potentially divisive biennial churchwide assembly next month.

My thoughts: This letter is essentially about baptismal unity, which is truly a blessed gift of God. By our baptism into Christ Jesus, we are made one body. From the Bishop's letter:

We hold in common this confession that God makes us one in Jesus Christ, but it is not making this confession that makes us one. Rather, because God unites us to Jesus Christ in Baptism we are also united to each other in one body that transcends any other difference. Paul states this clearly. “For in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ” (Galatians 3:26-27).

The Bishop's reflections on baptismal unity for the life of the church are helpful, but I fear that they are not enough. When I was ordained I didn't pledge fidelity to my baptismal covenant, but to a particular church, tradition, and set of teachings. Though the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America professes to be part of "one, holy, catholic and apostolic church," we nonetheless recognize that within that one universal church we maintain a particular discipline and practice as a communion in the Lutheran tradition. In matters of denominational unity we cannot appeal to baptismal unity only ... for baptismal unity is something that we share with all Christians who baptize in the name of the Triune God, but it doesn't speak to the legitimate concerns and challenges facing denominational traditions and structures today.

In its ecumenical relationships and aspirations the ELCA seeks more than a unity based on a common baptism in Christ. Before entering into a full communion relationship with another denomination, we seek to develop a shared language of faith, and some sort of reconciliation of theological tenets and/or liturgical practice. Our church's goal has been some sort of visible unity, expressed (in part, anyway) through structural means. We can argue about the merits of this agenda, but working toward visible unity is the policy of our church, a means of putting our "spiritual" unity into practice.

I wonder if in this letter Bishop Hanson asks less of Lutherans (a baptismal unity) than the ELCA regularly asks of itself in discipline and order (fidelity to Lutheran confessions and liturgical practice)? Is he expecting less of us than we expect of our ecumenical partners in full communion agreements (a visible unity based on liturgical pracitce and structural relationships)? How does this letter compare with our church's ecumenical agenda?

I fear that this letter speaks to a "spiritual" unity which, on this side of the Kingdom of God, is not enough to keep the church together. We have confessions and constitutions, traditions and disciplines, all of which are designed to be expressions of and servants to the church and the Gospel it proclaims. The Bishop should have also appealed to these elements of our tradition in calling the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America to unity, for even if our church splits this summer, we will continue to be united to Christ and to each other by baptism. But is that what we want, a split in which separated brethren can claim baptismal unity but who no longer will strive together for the greater gifts? I don't think so.

As members of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, we must expect more of ourselves than baptismal unity. For though our life together as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America is a gift of God, it is also a practice of discipline and mutual admonition that requires carefull attention given to our confessions, tradition, and governance practices. I'm not sure that, in preparation for this year's potentially divisive churchwide assembly, we've sufficiently mined our tradition and our teachings to articulate what unity looks like in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Denominational unity is a delicate dance that traverses both of God's kingdoms, and demands attention given to the needs of both. Have we done that? I'm not sure. (As time permits, I'll examine our ELCA Constitution and offer some reflections on denominational unity in future posts.)

Though I think that Bishop Hanson's letter missed the mark with this letter, I do not expect our church to rupture this summer. I'm not sure that August will be our church's shining moment, but I don't expect it to be our worst, either. Let us hope. Let us pray.

Tryin' Out a New 'Do

2009-06-11T21:50:39-04:00

(This post first appeared in my congregation's June 2009 newsletter)

You have probably already noticed it, but you are too kind or polite to mention it. Perhaps that’s because we’re still dancing the get-to-know-you dance, and you may not want to say anything so personal to the new pastor just yet. Well, I’ll say it: I’m growing my hair long. To be honest, I’m not sure if I like this new hairdo or if it suits me well at all. We’ll see.

I have wanted to grow my hair long for years, but I’ve never had the guts to actually go through with it. But not this time. For the first time in my life I’m growing out my hair. Why? Back in January I was asked to participate in the leadership of our synod’s Confirmation Camp (held in late June at Mar-Lu-Ridge Camp near Frederick, MD). My role? To portray Jesus in the week-long teaching and re-enacting of the Holy Week/Passion story. Since we commonly envision Jesus with long hair, and since for years I’ve wanted but been unwilling to grow my hair long, I have allowed my hair to grow for this role. We’ll see if I keep the new ‘do after June.

Growing my hair long is just one of many firsts I’ve had in my first six months of ordained ministry (and not one that I would have anticipated!). It is here with you that I first presided at the Lord’s Table and at the Baptismal Font. It is here with you that I first said, “As a called and ordained minister of the church of Christ, and by his authority, I therefore declare to you the entire forgiveness of all your sins.” It is here with you that I first sat down with lay leaders to dream about education and outreach ministries for the coming year (and also for many years to come). And after years of moving from place to place, it is here with you that I am finally laying down roots for my ministry and for my family. For the first time in my life I am settling into patterns of life and work, and growing into the hopes and dreams that God has given me.

As I look ahead to September and the start of my first program year with you I am simultaneously anxious and excited. For years I sat in classes at seminary, or worked as a youth director, or worked at the edges of parish ministry (as a church publishing sales representative, for example). And in these roles I eagerly learned, hypothesized and developed convictions about ministry. But this time is different. No longer am I a temporary intern or a sales representative peeking into the parish. Now I’m in a new role with new and greater responsibilities … this is where the rubber hits the road. I admit to being a bit anxious.

But let me tell you how excited I am, too. I see here at Resurrection great faith and great hopes, a strong desire to serve others and to be a caring community of love and mutual support. There is already so much that we’re doing well, from our vibrant Sunday School ministry to our Confirmation Class bursting at the seams; from the Clothes Closet to the Christian Service group, both of which serve those in need; from the choir and worship assistants to the dedicated team of leaders on Council and committees, all of whom keep our congregation running; to … well, the list goes on.

And so with ideas and convictions formed after years of church work, and with a faithful and firm foundation of ministry here at Resurrection, I am excited about what will come next year. I’ve been meeting with our Christian Education, Evangelism, and Stewardship leaders, and I am excited about the new and renewed ministries that these committees are envisioning. From new fellowship events to exciting tweaks to Sunday School, from digging deeper into the meaning of Christian stewardship to wrestling what it means to welcome newcomers to the faith and church, the conversations, hopes, and dreams shared by our ministry leaders are exciting and promising.

I’m not sure where all these conversations, hopes, and dreams about ministry will lead us. Perhaps some of our plans for Sunday School or new fellowship events will work out … and perhaps some will not. That’s ok, for just like my hair we can cut and change things afterwards and go in a different direction if we don’t like the look and feel of our new ministry ‘do.

And so as I prepare for my first full program year as a pastor I am anxious and excited, confident in God’s leading and hope-filled for what lies ahead … no matter how long my hair is.

"Judeo-Christian"?

2009-06-05T11:49:59-04:00

I'm exploring the term "Judeo-Christian." Any suggested reading for background and history of this term?

In recent years I have found this term to be problematic. What exactly is "Judeo-Christian?" Who uses the term? What does use of this term mean in the American context for a diverse nation based on laws and freedoms, not ethnic/religious identity?

A few times on this blog I have wondered if use of this term wasn't a form of religious arrogance on the part of Christians:

Do Jews ever speak of "Judeo-Christian" values? I've only ever hear Christians (conservative Christians, at that) use this term, and I wonder if it represents an attempt by majority Christians to claim a broader mandate for their narrow social agenda. By using the term "Judeo-Christian" conservative Christians imply that their social agenda is in keeping with the Jewish people today and with the Jewish tradition spanning several thousand years. This seems terribly arrogant, if not worse.
- quoted from the bottom of this post about an effort by conservative Christians to elect "godly Christians" to office, envisioning "an American society that affirms and practices Judeo-Christian values rooted in biblical authority"

For example: it is usually Christians, speaking of a "Judeo-Christian" heritage, who argue for placing the Ten Commandments in public parks or in courthouses. Rarely have I heard Jews make such arguments. If it is largely Christians who use the term "Judeo-Christian," does the term truly speak to things shared between Jews and Christians? And worse, if this term is overwhelmingly used by Christians and not Jews, is its use in any way antisemitic? Insensitive or arrogant, at least ...

From what I can tell this term surfaced a few times in the early 20th century, but didn't become somewhat common until the 1940s, and has been used extensively by Christian conservatives since their political rise starting in the late 1970s. For one Jewish perspective on this term (and a little bit of history, too), read this: Regarding the Term "Judeo-Christian"

And just on Wednesday I heard another concern about the term "Judeo-Christian" - that within the Abrahamic faiths the term places Judaism and Christianity together in a union, over and against Islam. From a discussion about Barack Obama's visit to Cairo on public radio:

I find it very disturbing when I hear people, especially in the West - I also hear this in the Arab and Muslim world, but more often in the West - [when] I hear people talking of the "Judeo-Christian heritage." Look, the Jews lived in Islam and have contributed to Islamic civilization for centuries! And then you get people talking about "the Judeo-Christian," as if, you know, the Jews and the Christians have always been a separate civilization and culture, separate from the civilization and culture of Muslims.

I think that one of the interesting things that could come out of the visit of Barack Obama to the Middle East is perhaps to trigger a debate among Muslims and among Christians and Jews in the West as to what role the Jews have played in Muslim culture and civilization, as opposed to just talking about Muslims over the last several decades being anti-Jewish.

Look, the West does not have to give Muslims lessons about being anti-Jewish. Muslims didn't have the Holocaust, Muslims didn't have the pogroms that we saw in Europe in the 18th and 19th century. The anti-Jewish attitude that we have seen, and it does exist, and the anti-Jewish propoganda does exist in the Muslim world, is in large part related to what Obama is now trying to have people debate, a solution to the [Israeli-Palestinian] conflict.

- Abderrahim Foukara, Washington burea chief of Al Jazeera Arabic, on The Diane Rhem Show, Wednesday, June 3 - "President Obama in Cairo"

I don't deny that some things are shared between Christians and Jews, and that there may be an appropriate, narrow usage for the term "Judeo-Christian." However, I find its wide application to things political, cultural, historical, and moral - interestingly enough, I rarely find the term used by theologians - to be problematic for Jewish-Christian relations and, indeed, for the ways we understand the relationship between the Abrahamic religions and their cultures.

Any thoughts?