Some Thoughts from a Survivor of the Young Adult Church Massacre

I’m not engaged enough to keep up with all the popular Christian blogs, but I do follow Rachel Held Evans, and recently I’ve seen several posts there (and elsewhere; this is not a new phenomenon) relating to the masses of young people who are disillusioned with the church. What got me writing was a spate of “time to leave the church” kinds of posts. Though, as a pastor, I clearly have a dog in this fight, I’m not criticizing those who have taken that position in one form or another. There are times to leave churches, and they are invariably painful times. So here I am, simply adding more words to the discussion.

I grew up in a Bible Belt church that did not seem (in my eyes) to value asking the hard questions, which did not sit well with my upbringing to parents who, thankfully, cared a great deal about asking those sorts of questions. Emotional response to “the Spirit,” who “moved” predictably in time with the music, was what mattered in my home church, though it’s certainly possible that I wasn’t paying attention when the harder questions were dealt with. Once when I taught a Sunday School lesson that challenged us to consider that heaven, biblically speaking, pointed us more toward resurrection and the union of heaven and earth than disembodied harp-playing on clouds at the pearly gates, I was tersely accused of misusing Scripture. End of discussion. And yet I came to faith in Christ in that church, and I am eternally grateful for the people who sacrificed to share their own imperfect understanding of God with me.

I languished in undiagnosed introverted agony for four years at a major Christian college while I consistently heard the message that I was somehow malformed because I lacked the “passion” for God that was expected, a passion that manifested itself in swinging from weepy-eyed “I just, like, just love Jesus so much!” moments to manic “Yay ra Jesus!” outbursts (at the appropriate times, of course, and usually in front of total strangers). I took a vicious delight in predicting the point in the Jesus ballads in chapel when most people would raise their hands in spontaneous, non-manipulated adoration of God. Ten years later, I can still name the worship leaders and chapel deans I hold responsible for nearly destroying my faith (that is not an exaggeration), but learning to show them grace is just as much a part of my healing as has been growing beyond them. And I still ache from the times when people I cared about and respected asked me, seriously, how I could be called to pastoral ministry when I was such an introvert.

Now I am the thirtysomething co-pastor (with my wife) of a small, un-hip Wesleyan church in the Poconos, an area that is desperately convinced that it is still rural, when in fact it became quite suburban (and even urban) several years ago. I loved our worship last Sunday, in which we sang along with Paul Baloche songs projected on the screen, then sang a Twila Paris chorus from 1982 played on the Hammond organ, then heard a twangy, old-style country duet sung by an eighty-some-year-old couple whose accompaniment was played from a muffled cassette tape. We are not cool, but I love us. Our combination of eighties-era wood paneling, seventies-era gold shag pew upholstery, and sixties-era faded red carpeting is, shall we say, not likely to make a magazine cover. And I, as a co-pastor, am likewise uncool. I do not have gel in my hair, which I crop military-short rather than letting it grow long and cool. I do not have cool thick-rimmed glasses. I do not wear cool graphic tees (or are ironic vintage tees the cool thing now? I’m not even cool enough to keep up). I do not have a cool soul patch. I do not have a cool tattoo, not because I think tattoos are evil, but because I can’t think of anything I like enough to want to have it stuck on my body for the next fifty years. I grew up in rural Indiana, for crying out loud, so I don’t even have a cool backstory. I wear a tie, I tie it properly, and I don’t apologize for it. As a preacher, I am so uncool that I refuse to use video clips from Christian skits and popular movies in my sermons, not because I want to be countercultural, but because I think they almost always hinder effective communication.

We are not perfect, but I still love us. I have cringed with shame when my parishioners have spouted the most backward, überconservative drivel, but I have also beamed with pride when they unexpectedly “got it” and showed love and grace to someone who absolutely did not deserve it. I could name the people who have left our church during the five years my wife and I have pastored here, and I know that some of them have been hurt, and I know that some of them would blame me. Some of them are right to do so, while others are not. I grieve the loss of those people. There have been days — quite a few, really — in my five years of pastoral ministry when I’ve been this close to stomping off into the woods to live as a hermit in a cave (again, not an exaggeration). And yet I still love us, because Jesus still loves us and claims us as His bride, and because I am surrounded by other Christians (especially my ever-patient wife) who gently bring me back, and because I think it lies at the heart of the gospel to insist on loving people who are so different than you that you can sometimes barely stand them.

If you are struggling in your relationship with the church or have left the church but still like Jesus, I’m not going to accuse you of being selfish and needy and write you off as being the real problem here. It is very true that in many cases, the church has evolved to perpetuate its own institution, and many (far too many) pastors lack the theological grounding needed to really be the church. As with most things, you are the problem, I am the problem, “The Man” is the problem… And yet while I am certainly not a Catholic, I recognize much truth in the claim that there is no salvation outside the church.  It’s not technically true, of course, but there is still truth in that claim. I sense in this generation that there is a desire to have Jesus while rejecting the church, and you simply can’t do that. The church is the continuation of Jesus’ mission; we’re a package deal. You might reject the institution, but you can’t reject the community of God’s people, and it’s only natural that even the most spontaneous expression of community will seek to perpetuate itself through gradual institutionalization. You will never find a perfect church, and I think that’s kind of the point: the redemption of the world requires a collision between a holy God and a sinful world. Not only the repentant sinners that Jesus encountered and healed, but the blind, self-righteous sinners, too. Hypocrites, Judaizers, legalists, gossips, and just plain mean people are not a new addition to the church. Not at all.

I am not writing to chastise those who have either left the church or are desperately seeking some non-church church alternative. I don’t claim to know your story, but I do know mine, and I know that there is hope. Do not give up on the church. Do not give in to church-bashing. This ugly, sometimes smelly, unlovable mess of a bride is still the bride of Christ. Take a deep breath, re-read Ephesians 1, remember that Paul is talking about the church in those beautiful words about the mysteries of God, and decide that you’re going to love the church just like you decide to love your spouse even when they’re as unlovable as they can sometimes be. And then go on to read Ephesians 2, where Paul hints at some of the stupid problems the Ephesian Christians were having, and tells them that God has built them together like two walls of his house anyway.

Yes, the church is a mess. Yes, in many cases it is hostile to the things younger generations are facing today. I could tell stories that would leave you picking your jaw up off the floor; I’m under no delusion about how the church works. But the beauty of God’s kingdom is that He loves her anyway.

In support of religious liberty

At this very moment, the religious liberties of thousands of American Christians are being trampled by the government.

Note that I said, “are being trampled,” not “are threatened.” It’s not something that might happen a year from now, it’s something that has gone on for decades, if not centuries, with hardly anyone caring to notice.

One of the current issues making the rounds of media outlets is that the Obama administration is threatening to force Catholics to pay for contraceptives, and that this is of course a grave threat to Catholics’ religious consciences, and that this will then threaten the entire notion of religious liberty for all Christians. What has gone unnoticed through all of this, and indeed for the last forty years, is that the religious consciences of those who object to war are trampled every time they pay their taxes. They are faced with a choice every bit as difficult as a Catholic hospital being directed to pay for contraceptives: either they pay their taxes with the knowledge that some of their money will support war and its related industries, or they must choose to break the law by withholding some or all of their taxes.

I say that this has gone unnoticed for the last forty years when in fact it has been much longer, but every Congress since 1972 has been presented with, and refused, an alternative. It’s called a Peace Tax Fund, currently before Congress as H.R. 1191 (though it has been languishing in a Congressional committee since last March), and it does just what it says on the tin: it’s a fund for those who wish to pay their taxes but want them used for peaceful purposes (the text of the bill specifies what that means).

Christians of all stripes have rallied around the Catholic cause of religious liberty; let’s see how many will follow the logical implications of their claims and likewise rally around their pacifist brothers and sisters in Christ.

More information and a link to contact your representatives can be found at peacetaxfund.org.

Celebrating women in the kingdom of God

My heart breaks for any women who heard John Piper speak these words. Author and blogger Rachel Held Evans has called for men to respond to Piper by celebrating the importance of women in the church, so, while I wish I had the time to write something fresh, I will instead highlight two sermons that I have posted here in the past.

The first one is called "The Story of the Women," which I preached in April of 2010 as part of our "The Story of..." series. The second is a little more focused on the issue of women in ministry: "Before and After: Personhood" (that link will take you to a .pdf file; click here to download a recording of the sermon) was preached in May of 2011 as part of our "Before and After" series.

Another response to Dr. Jim Garlow, this time regarding Newt Gingrich. Sigh.

It is not my intent to start a feud with Dr. Garlow. As I said the last time I responded to his statements, he is my brother in Christ and I embrace him as such. I have no personal dislike for him, and in fact I've never met him. And normally I try to avoid getting too political in this forum unless it's required by a sermon; there are plenty of other better (and worse) sources for political discourse these days. However, Dr. Garlow is a very public figure in both the secular media/political world and the Wesleyan Church, so his statements have a pretty direct impact on my little corner of the church. Specifically, he has come to articulate a political and theological position which, while it is hardly unique these days, is the exact opposite direction from the one I hope the Wesleyan Church will take. There are no shortage of churches making sacrifices at the altar of American 21st-century conservatism, but it is my fervent prayer that the Wesleyan Church will not join them any more than it already has. Our unique theological tradition puts us in a position to offer the world a desperately needed alternative to the civil religion championed by most Republicans on the national stage, and I hope that my denomination will choose this alternative rather than the course chosen by Dr. Garlow.

In case I have not been clear enough: the theology put forward by Dr. Garlow in his recent letter regarding his support of Newt Gingrich is, I believe, a direct threat to the work of the kingdom of God. This is not simply a difference of opinion, this is a matter that strikes at the heart of the gospel.

Dr. Garlow's letter is intended to articulate a defense of his endorsement of Newt Gingrich as a presidential candidate, but it is not actually Newt Gingrich that I intend to discuss. Dr. Garlow is entitled to vote for whatever candidate he chooses. The beauty of the American voting system is that you get to vote for your candidate and I get to vote for mine, and we're each entitled to our politics. I hope that more people will vote for someone other than Gingrich than will vote for him, and clearly Dr. Garlow hopes the opposite. That's fine. The problem comes in how Dr. Garlow defends his choice: he rests on a dangerous, flawed, unbiblical ecclesiology (that is, theology of the church), an old and toxic lie that threatens to unravel the church in the United States.

Since the problem lies in the theology underlying Dr. Garlow's position rather than the specific points he makes, I will respond to only a couple of points from the letter that illustrate the theology itself.

The church and power

First, during a section in which Dr. Garlow discusses Mr. Gingrich's conversion to Catholicism:

But those reasons are not the most compelling reasons for his conversion, in my opinion.  His conversion to the Catholic Church is based on his love of the “church militant,” to the fact that the church of the Middle Ages “got it.”  They knew the enemies of the faith, and they went on the offensive.  He sees – as did the church of the Middle Ages – that the enemies of the church, both then and now, was and is radical Islam.  Islamicists threaten the entire globe.  When he reads history, he sees a church that was willing to confront the most terrifying force of the time.  That compels him, and well it should.  

Mr. Gingrich is right when he sees the dual dangers of radical secularism and radical Islam.  Few seem to grasp it.  But he does.  And so should the American church.  The one church that seemed to “get it” (at least as it related to Islam) was the church of the Middle Ages. 

He would never defend the excesses or sinful aspects of the Middle Age Church.    Nor would I.   For example, I would not defend the brutalities of the Crusades.  Those are wrong. 

Yet, I refuse to fall into the politically correct, historical revisionism that fails to see that Christians in the Middle Ages were forced to defend themselves against the onslaughts of Islam that came to kill in the name of Allah.  And in that sense, there is a direct “connecting of the dots” that can be made between Christians fighting for their lives then, and those who do not want to succumb to radical Islamicists today.

I confess that I have never before seen a Protestant claim that the church of the Middle Ages was an example for us today of a time when we "got it." Yes, there are certainly many examples of the church serving as the witness to the kingdom of God during that time, and there are many examples of saints and communities of faith honoring Jesus Christ. But the church of the Middle Ages was institutionally corrupt in its compromises with the governments of Europe.  It had appropriated power for itself in a way that was entirely contradictory to the gospel of Jesus Christ. The Reformation happened for lots of reasons, but most of them came down to that issue of power.

I find it interesting that Dr. Garlow is politically correct enough to distance himself from the Crusades, yet the Crusades are absolutely critical to understanding how the church operated in that time period. You cannot claim that the church "got it" while rejecting its use of violence. The violence was a necessary result of the model the church accepted. The church had so compromised with the temporal powers in the world that she saw herself as one of them: the princes of Europe were blessed by the pope, the church held vast tracts of property, and it was assumed that God had chosen to act through the political-spiritual entity of the institution in Rome. The result was that a threat to the church was a threat to the state and vice versa, and the church thought it was appropriate to use the sword of the state to deal with those threats. This is why it was acceptable, in their eyes, to fight the Crusades, as well as burn dissidents at the stake.

Almost without exception, bad things have happened as a result of the church making an alliance with the state (or segments of the political establishment). Either the state begins using religious language to justify atrocities committed against an unwanted minority or large parts of the church are led astray from their genuine witness of Christ (as is happening and has happened in the United States). When the church begins to think that it can advance the agenda of the kingdom by wielding political power, the witness of Christ will inevitably be damaged.

This is why the Bible is almost universally suspicious of temporal governments. There are a few exceptions, but they are noteworthy only as exceptions. More often, the kingdom of God works against or in spite of human governments and wisdom. The judges were seen as ineffective at preventing "everyone doing what was right in their own eyes," the prophets regularly criticized the corruption of the monarchy, Jesus was opposed and executed by the corrupt powers-that-be, the Apostles expected persecution at the hands of the government, and John the Revelator saw governments as being in league with the Beast. When the people were saved through governments, it was because God was fighting to save them.

The compromise of the church with Republican politics that Dr. Garlow advocates is directly contradictory to the kingdom of God, in other words. The church of Jesus Christ does not go on the offensive against her enemies, as Dr. Garlow says, because Jesus explicitly forbade this:

Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you. (Luke 6:27-31)

There's also this:

You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. (Matthew 20:25-28)

In other words, for the church to be a faithful witness to the kingdom of God, she must explicitly reject the power of coercion as Jesus did. If the church thinks she can wield political power as she did during the Middle Ages (and as Dr. Garlow advocates today), she will be an embarrassment to her Lord.

American Exceptionalism

Here's a second quote that illustrates Dr. Garlow's toxic ecclesiology, when he is listing the qualities he sees in Mr. Gingrich:

A superb grasp of the correct definition of American Exceptionalism.  In short, there are nearly 200 nations with constitutions.  A few of them mention God in the preamble.  Only one nation has sacred documents that specifically state that our rights are given “by their (that is, our) Creator” (Declaration of Independence) to “We The People” (opening large font in the US Constitution) with us as “the People” temporarily loaning the power to elected officials.  That is, based on all the constitutions of the other nations of the world, an “exception,” thus the appropriate phrase “American Exceptionalism.”   Mr. Gingrich is able to articulate this considerably better than any elected official I have ever heard. 

Let me be clear: no minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ should ever advocate American Exceptionalism. This view is not only historically and logically absurd, it is also repugnant to the gospel.

It is absurd because it is meaningless and patently untrue. What does it even mean? What does it imply about our history? Is American Exceptionalism suggesting that this socio-political entity is somehow favored by history? Because many empires throughout history have been wealthy and powerful. Is it suggesting that we are morally superior to other nations? Shall I list the atrocities in our history? Two will do, I think: remember that this nation was born through the systematic extermination of one people (First Nations) and the brutal enslavement of another (Africans). I need not mention the fact that we currently ignore our own supposedly sacrosanct principles at Guantanamo Bay.

It is also repugnant to the gospel to suggest that this nation is somehow accorded a higher status spiritually because of our founding documents. God does not favor the United States over other nations; to suggest otherwise is verging on blasphemy. The Apostle Paul had, shall we say, some strong words to say on the subject: the Epistle to the Galatians is written against those who would insist that certain groups are more "in" the kingdom than others. Ephesians and Philemon (and others) very clearly lay out the theology that all peoples are offered the opportunity to become co-heirs with Christ in Christ; God is building a new people out of all the nations founded on Jesus. No nation has privileged status, and Paul shouts that those who disagree with him should perform *ahem* radical surgery.

The fact that we have included some platitudes about God in our documents is as meaningless as insisting that the clerk at the grocery wish you a Merry Christmas. It does nothing to reflect or witness to the kingdom of God. Is there anything in our Constitution or Declaration of Independence that uniquely references the Sermon on the Mount? And these Republican candidates who proclaim their righteousness from the street corners by going to prayer conventions and reciting the line, "Jesus is my personal Lord and savior:" can they articulate how the Beatitudes will inform their public policy?

Dr. Garlow says this at one point: "We are in a war, a war that will determine whether America, as she was conceived, will survive." And why, exactly, should this concern the church? America as a political entity in no way overlaps with the kingdom of God. I certainly appreciate the privileges of American citizenship, but that citizenship does not dictate the terms of my citizenship in Christ's kingdom. The work of God will not be any more hindered by the collapse of America than it has been by the collapse of any other empire. If we are in Christ, we are citizens of His kingdom. All other kingdoms pass away.

What are the main things?

Dr. Garlow writes about many other things, most of which fall predictably in line with the platform of the Republican party. The three issues that seem foremost in his letter are gay marriage, abortion, and fiscal conservatism. These are indeed serious issues that need to be handled carefully, but I am confused at what biblical justification Dr. Garlow uses to single out these particular issues. I would wager that the Bible has at least as much to say about the evils of greed as it does in favor of personal industry and fiscal responsibility; in fact the Bible frequently assumes that the rich have gained their wealth on the backs of the poor. And I'm pretty sure that the Bible has far more to say about taking care of the poor than it does about the evils of homosexuality. And I know that the biblical instruction is to do good in response to evil and fight using only the armor of God; the weapons of the world are forbidden us. It is unacceptable to focus on those parts of the Bible that convict other people but agree with my politics while ignoring the clear commands of Christ that convict me, too.

If I have said some harsh things, it is out of love for the church of Christ and zeal for her future. I bear no ill will for Dr. Garlow, and I know that God has done many great things through him. I hope, however, that he will reevaluate his understanding of the church's role in the world to bring it more in line with the teachings of Jesus Christ.

Unexpected Freedom

Reading: Acts 10:1-48

The weekend of the Fourth of July is always a tricky time to preach. It's a significant holiday, but it's definitely not a Christian holiday. How do we acknowledge it without sanctifying it? In this case, we took a look at the biblical view of freedom as demonstrated in the book of Acts.

Click here to view a manuscript of this sermon (.pdf).

Click here to download a recording of this sermon.

Preached on July 3, 2011 at PLWC.

Before and After: God and Country

Reading: Romans 13:1-7; Revelation 19:11-21

Our fifth sermon in the Before and After series tries to strike a delicate balance on the issues relating to God and country. Lots of important issues get impacted by our view of this relationship, and unfortunately few of them are easy to navigate...

Click here to view a manuscript of this sermon (.pdf).

Click here to download a recording of this sermon.

Preached on May 29, 2011 at PLWC.

When the Chips are Down

Following is a quote from Alan Stuart-Smyth, who was serving as a UN peacekeeper in the Congo when he interrupted two men in the middle of perpetrating truly horrific atrocities. The men went for their weapons, and so he shot them both.

"I had turned 19 only two days previous, and still suffered from the native upbringing of a good Christian family. I lost a lot of that upbringing at Okonda. There was no honor here, no virtue. The standards of behavior taught in the homes, churches, and schools of America had no place in battle. They were mythical concepts good only for the raising of children, to be cast aside forever from this moment on. No, I didn't feel guilt, shame, or remorse at killing my fellow man — I felt pride!"

—Alan Stuart-Smyth, "Congo Horror," quoted by David Grossman in On Killing, p.222

There's a lot in his account worth discussing, but one of the things that grips me is that the gospel (at least as it had been taught to him) had nothing relevant to say about the realities of war, atrocity, and killing. He abandoned what religion had been given to him because it was simply inadequate. What bothers me is that I suspect he was perfectly justified in doing so.

The gospel I hear preached (and struggle to balance in my own preaching) is usually a gospel of conservative middle class values and struggles focused on the existential (Shackled by a heavy burden? Jesus can help!), the practical (Got kids who won't come to church? Here are ten Proverbs that will help!), American-conservative-civil-religionist values (Homosexuals/liberals/illegals got you down? Here are three Bible verses that show how they're going to hell!), or surface compassion (Feel bad about your materialistic lifestyle? Send some money to Africa and feel better!). But do we have anything worth saying to Alan Stuart-Smyth?

At best, the gospel I hear preached is powerful enough to heal a broken marriage, set a person free from an addiction, and send some money to a third-world country to build a well. Powerful stuff, yes. But most of us — including most preachers, I fear — simply do not have a theology that can handle issues of atrocity and war with anything other than bumper-sticker platitudes that only end up insulting everyone concerned.

The reality is that the gospel of Jesus Christ does have an answer to Alan Stuart-Smyth. Most of us have just never heard it.

Nations on the Brink

Reading: Amos 1:3-15; Isaiah 23:1-12

I got a little bit political this week, but hopefully not too political. At the very least, using the Old Testament "oracles to the nations" as the basis for analyzing our own national politics should be a pretty unique way of handling the issue.

Click here to view a manuscript of this sermon.

Click here to download a recording of this sermon.

Preached on October 10, 2010 at PLWC.

A Response to Jim Garlow Regarding Glenn Beck

If you’re not familiar with him, Jim Garlow is the lead pastor of Skyline Wesleyan Church near San Diego, California, one of the largest churches in the Wesleyan denomination. In recent years he was heavily involved in organizing support for Proposition 8 and has begun working with Newt Gingrich on an initiative called “Renewing American Leadership.” Normally I am content to live and let live when it comes to such political matters: if Dr. Garlow wants to involve himself in such things, that is his prerogative. However, on August 25, 2010, Jim Garlow posted a lengthy defense of his alliance with Glenn Beck (originally posted on Facebook, I think; you can read the same thing here), whose Mormon faith needed, shall we say, some explaining.

I should say first of all that I do not necessarily oppose making alliances with non-Christian faiths from time to time. Certainly, we should agree with others and cooperate with them when we can. And I should also say that I fully recognize that not everyone will agree that Mormons are not Christians, since they do, according to their own definition, follow Christ. But Mormons are certainly not orthodox Christians, and that is the rub.

Had Garlow simply argued that it was appropriate to work with Glenn Beck because, in his view, they had similar aims, that would be one thing. But he then crossed the line by arguing that Beck is in fact a Christian who has been saved by Christ. This is much, much too far.

Garlow’s logic is that people who know Beck well insist that he is a Christian, that Beck is able to articulate a theology of atonement, and that since “all of us are missing part of God’s full truth,” logically you do not have to have your doctrine 100% correct in order to get into heaven.

The massive problem in this is that these issues were settled, as far as the church is concerned, centuries ago. The point of the Nicene Creed, for example, was to define some boundaries of orthodox Christian faith. Accept these things, and you’re in the church; reject them, and you’re somewhere else. It’s been that way since the fourth century AD, and it’s not really up for debate any more. And the root of this whole problem is that Mormons explicitly reject the Trinitarian theology of the orthodox creeds. They may call Him Lord, but they don’t call Him God.

There is truth in Garlow’s logic. Certainly, many sincere, saved, even sanctified Christians cannot explain important concepts like atonement or Trinitarian theology, and we still embrace them fully in the church (though I trust they are growing in their understanding). But there is a difference between ignorance and rejection. Ignorance can be easily solved, but rejection places you outside of the embrace of the church. At best, we could say that Glenn Beck’s status as a Christian is uncertain and therefore we should consider his theology dubious. Is it possible to be saved apart from the church? Probably, I suppose, in unusual circumstances. Is it possible to be saved if you’re actively rejecting the church? I wouldn’t bet on those odds, but it’s not up to me. Leave it up to God to decide their status. In our judgments, let us be guided by the long-established creeds of the church instead of the opinions of sources in the know.

I normally try to remain discreet in these sorts of sensitive issues, especially when dealing with leaders in my own denomination. It is in no way my intent to insult Dr. Garlow, my brother in Christ. But these are uncivilized times we live in, and I fear we must take a careful stand lest the church in the United States sell herself to the civil religion of conservative politics. Garlow said that "If this nation collapses in the 2010-2012 time frame, historians will have to report, if they are honest, that America fell because of silent pastors and inactive pews." But since when has the Kingdom of God been tasked with being the guardian of a secular, temporal kingdom of humanity? The fall (or success) of America as a nation is not the concern of Christ's church. On the contrary, if the church in America fails in its mission in the 2010-2012 time frame, I fear it will be because of Christians who are unable to discern the difference between Kingdom values and conservative nationalism. This conflation of conservative civil religion with the church in the United States will do far, far more damage to our cause than any other threat we face. As such, let our judgments be motivated by Kingdom values rather than unholy politics.

DNA of the Church: Do Justice

Reading: Micah 6:1-13; Luke 4:14-21

Ah, Glenn Beck.  Normally I'm content in my sermons to avoid naming names, but when a popular media figure leaves the realm of his own crackpot theories and becomes an armchair theologian, it gets personal.  I had always intended to focus on social justice as part of my DNA of the Church series, so it honestly is a coincidence that I preached on the topic the week after Glenn Beck encouraged people to leave churches that take social justice seriously.  He has since backpedaled a bit, which in my mind only bolsters my assumption that the man is simply making stuff up.  Must be nice to get paid to do that.

Click here to view a manuscript of this sermon.

Preached on March 14, 2010 at PLWC.

The Ancient Science

Reading: Mark 9:30-37; James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

We've come to our fourth and next-to-last sermon on the book of James. This week we are seeing a reminder of the contrast between wisdom and folly. There really are two very different paths we can walk, and either one requires a choice.

Click here to view a manuscript of this sermon.

Also, I've updated our discussion of spiritual gifts to include the gifts we covered this week: the gift of a word of wisdom and a word of knowledge. Click here to view Reversal: Spiritual Gifts Focus, or click here to read the blog post introducing it.

Preached on September 20, 2009 at PLWC.

Believe it or not, sometimes we miss the point.

Carey and I watched The Shoes of the Fisherman the other week. It's a movie about (spoilers ahead, if it's possible to have spoilers for a 41-year-old movie) a Russian archbishop who is elected pope during a time of extreme famine in China. The Chinese get increasingly belligerent, the Soviet and American superpowers get edgy, and everybody's trigger finger gets itchy. The movie ends with the new pope's coronation, during which the pope announces that he is selling all the lands and resources and artwork owned by the Catholic church to be used for the relief of the Chinese people, even if it means bankrupting the church. Problem solved.

I had watched this movie some years ago with my Dad, and when we got to the end of the movie I asked him if this was based on a true story. I was more than a little disappointed to find out that it is not. No such thing has ever happened, to the great shame of every Christian.

Part of what disturbs me is that The Shoes of the Fisherman is not a particularly Christian movie; it was directed by a not-especially-Christian director and distributed by MGM, and yet it gets the point of our religion better than most Christians seem to. Or take another example: this article from The Onion (note that I'm not endorsing The Onion, hilarious though it can be -- it's got occasional vulgar and offensive content, so consider yourself warned). The Onion is very definitely not Christian, and yet in their sarcasm they show that they have a pretty good idea of what a Christian should be.

So why are we surprised that the church in the US is struggling? If we spend more time and energy drawing up petitions about things we're against than we do, say, feeding the hungry,* does our church really deserve to live? Maybe we should try listening to some atheists and secularists, rather than yelling at sinners to do what we want them to do.

Oh, now I've done it...

*Note: I'm pretty sure Jesus had a lot more to say about taking care of the poor than he did about keeping evolution out of textbooks...

Engage: Confrontation

Reading: Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29; Mark 11:1-11

This is the last sermon in our "Engage" series. This last Sunday was, of course, Palm Sunday, and so we wrapped up our discussion of how to engage our faith and actions by seeing how Jesus chose to confront the authorities of the world. Hopefully we're not too surprised to find out that for the time being, at least, confrontation must be a part of living in God's kingdom.

Click here to view a manuscript of this sermon.

Preached on April 5, 2009 at PLWC.

Christians and their liberty

I'm not sure why, but monthly issues of Jerry Falwell's National Liberty Journal have been showing up in the mailbox here at the parsonage ever since we moved in. If you're not familiar with NLJ, it's a newspaper published by Jerry Falwell and affiliated with Liberty University (which was founded by Falwell), and it makes no effort to hide its Christian evangelical fundamentalist position on the issues. It's an interesting read, regardless of your political persuasions, and glancing through some of the articles in this last issue got me thinking. If you're interested in the details, I'll let you track down the NLJ's website on your own, but what caught my attention was this:

-there are roughly thirty articles in this issue of the newspaper
-of those articles, at least five specifically involve Christians taking legal action against institutions (courts, schools, governments) with regard to the protection of their practice of Christianity
-one implicitly calls for a boycott of the forthcoming Presidential $1 coins, which have "In God We Trust" inscribed on the coin's edge rather than its face
-and one points out that the College of William and Mary suffered a withdrawal of $12 million in donations when it removed a cross from its chapel

Just to clarify, those five articles dealing with the legal action are in response to things like students being banned from washing each others' feet (a common Christian ritual) and a school removing language referring to God in its yearbook.

Setting the morality or legality of the actions of those institutions aside for the moment, I find myself wondering about the motivations of the people in those institutions. Are they doing these things, seemingly attacking Christianity and indeed Christians, because they're controlled by demonic forces? Or are they such staunch atheists that they want to destroy all religion? Or are they participants in a strong but minority agenda in our nation that seeks to tear down the body of Christ?

Or, just for the sake of argument, do they attack Christianity because they fear what they perceive as a rise in militant political Christian extremism -- not the sort that is going to resort to terrorism, but the sort that believes the American government exists as its tool for securing its beliefs in the nation at large?

Now, where would they get an idea like that? Why would they think Christians are the sort of people to pose a threat?

Could it be because some Christians resort to boycotts to get their way? Or take people to court when they think their rights are being stepped on? Or call on people to withdraw funding from things they don't like?

If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own.

If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also.

A time is coming when anyone who kills you will think he is offering a service to God.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.

Blessed are the meek.

Blessed are the merciful.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness.

Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you.

Whoever exalts himself or herself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself or herself will be exalted.

Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you; if someone strikes you on one cheek, give him the other as well; if he takes your cloak, give him your tunic also.

"Vengeance is mine," says the Lord.

Hmmm.