Making Jesus

Jesus is, in part, what we make of him.
Because the very gospels are what:
Have been made of him.
By Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

It ought to warn us to make Jesus, then.
With care.
With attention given to what we want him to be.
And why we would want such a Jesus, after all.

The fact that we have four distinct gospels.
Reveals, for me at least.
That God is okay with how we do this.
Yet, only four, makes it clear: there are some boundaries.

Which makes it a requirement that when.
We say something about Jesus.
We be sure to say: As I see it.
And then God's not offended, but pleased.

That we have the courage of our convictions.
To state our case as our case.
And not put words into God's mouth.
Or claim that our opinion is God's opinion, too.

What's wrong with humility?
We can state our case firmly.
But it's still our case.
What with study and prayer and consultation.

It's still our case.
And maybe God will push us in some other direction.
Sometime along the road.
And our case may change.

It's happen before.
To Saul.
And to Luther.
And to all of us.

It's a good thing we can change.
To make a case and it keep it small case.
Bearing the finitude of our thoughts and opinions.
Taking care to take care.

About what we say.
And say it with heart and mind and soul and strength.
But always open to something more.
As God makes God's case for the world.

All the Free Lunches

"When I look back on my life, what jumps out is how many variables had to fall in place in order to give me a chance" (J.D. Vance, "Hillbilly Elegy," p.239.

Many years ago, a man of considerable success and wealth said to a group of Rotarians, "Life is full of free lunches."

He went on to list so many things and people that simply came to him as gift, out of the blue, if you will, or from the hand of God, as some might say.

A loving home and the wisdom of mindful parents.
Teachers who cared and encouraged and challenged.
The network of family and friends who looked after him.
His own ambition and good health.
His dreams and energy.

Professors who never let him get away with shoddy work.
Folks who helped him get his first job.
The banker who loaned him money, on his word.
And all along the way, people, even strangers, who showed up at the right time.
And all of those fortuitous moments, too numerous to mention, and mostly unknown.

All of these, and more, the free lunches of life.

Here was a wise man who understood that his life was a gift, not a achievement of his own doing, and as such, there was only response, and that was gratitude, immense and all-consuming, gratitude, and the promise, the pledge, to be a free lunch for others.

How it should work, who knows.

Some have the opportunity, but something gets in the way.
A crummy family life.
Poor health.
Bad choices and no one around to cushion the fall.
Who knows?

A spectrum of variables, bits and pieces.

But this much I know, for those who "make it," there's only one legitimate response, gratitude. And maybe a huge amount of humility, as well.

Too many people walk around these days with their arms in a sling, broken arms, for patting themselves so vigorously on the back.

But for the woman or the man who truly understands the millions, even the billions, of variables that had to come together at just the right time so they could make, there is no back-patting, but only open arms and open hands to everyone around them.

And the best we can do is give and keep on giving free lunches.

Government programs, of course.
Personal engagement, you bet.
Financial support for aid organizations, all the way.

And many more moments and variables in which we can play a part for others.

Good Preaching!

Good preaching - okay, I'll have a go at it.

Preparation, preparation, preparation - and that's many years, and still learning, still preparing.

Writing, writing, writing - nothing hones the mind, the thoughts, the ability to give expression to the inexpressible. 

Humility, humility, humility - give it your best shot, and know that it fell short. Period! It was probably good, but there's always another Sunday.

Trust, trust, trust - when spoken in hope for the wellbeing of another, a changed social condition, the welfare of the world, God does something with such efforts.

Energy, energy, energy - deep and penetrating care for the Word, the world, scholarship, politics and hope. If you care about it, preach about it. If you don't care deeply, find something about which you care deeply, and go from there. At such a point, a little pulpit-pounding might just happen, and that's okay, too.

To this, I'd add: use a text, or something similar there to. Have the notes at hand, and let the congregation know that you produced something requiring labor as well as spirit.

Use a lectern, or pulpit - waltzing around on the chancel, platform, is mostly a preacher-centered look-at-me device.

Anyone with thespian proclivities can dazzle an audience, but preaching isn't about dazzle, it's about grace and justice, and those are both amazing things and hard things, requiring a lot of emotional and intellectual effort well-harnessed by training, by sermon-text and by humility.

Nothing wrong with flair - let the Spirit lead, but like a horse, if the preacher is going to pull the wagon, some serious equipment/equipping is needed. Dashing off here and there across the field may be pretty to watch, but in the end, to be of value, the horse is harnessed for the day's work.

Well, that's enough for this morning ... a Sunday morning in Amsterdam.

Do Americans Know How to Face Death?

Do Americans know how to face death?
I'm not sure.
I'm not sure I know how.

It's unsettling to think about it.

So, we come up with polite euphemisms.
Put a happy face on it.
"What, me worry?"

When someone dies, we're likely
     To blame them.

Lack of exercise, poor diet.

Or too much stress.

"If only they had ..."
Judgment ... so much judgment in those
few words.

When someone loses a loved one.
We grant them grief for a few weeks.
And then they better get on with it.

We're surprised, maybe miffed.
When six months later.
Tears and depression arise.

Maybe even in ourselves.

Death, I don't like it.
But I have no choice.

Perhaps faith offers something.
But even Jesus dreaded the prospect of death.

No cakewalk for him.
Nor for us.

And so it goes.

We can't run away.
Nor hedge our bets.

The mad accumulation of goods
     Is a hedge.
          Against death.

And so are harsh words
     Toward the poor.
          Who can't accumulate.

"What's the matter with them?"
      Do they remind us of something?
           We'd rather not know?

So we worship the Great God MBA.
And its Wall Street Minions.

Little boys and girls in expensive suits and fast cars.
Drinking expensive liquor.
Joy-riding in the fast lane.

Escaping death.
Running from it.
Full tilt.

All the way.
No tomorrow, is there?
But sooner or later.

The last tomorrow comes.
And then what?

Death holds a few keys in its wearied hand:
     Courage.
     Humility.
     Kindness.

As for accumulation?
How about piling up hordes of mercy?
Or justice?

A little charity now and then.
But more than charity;
A whole lot of effort to transform

     The mechanisms of society.

To face life.
That's what it's all about.
To see it for what it is.

Opportunity, but limited.
With death hanging around.
And maybe that's okay.

Can't do much about it anyhow.
Except thank it for the reminder.
That life is precious.

"So, get with it," says death.
"I'm here, waiting for you."

So we learn to face life.
In the gray light of death.
To live, maybe even well.

Some of the time.
Maybe much of the time.

Because there isn't that much time.

There really isn't.

All information is slanted ...

All "information" has a slant … nothing is neutral … it's all on where we begin.

If one begins with "abortion is murder and thus must be outlawed," we find information that conforms to that opinion. If, on the other hand, we believe that a "woman's choice is an important element in her health care, and that abortion is a legitimate choice," then we find information that conforms to that.

We have to always dig deeper, more than likely into our personality, family patterns, personal history, and a variety of other factors, social and psychological, as to why we make the decisions we do.

If and when we share out of the deeps of our being, it always has the aroma of authenticity, because it comes from our deeps, and not from some political or ideological source (both liberals and conservatives can suffer from this syndrome). When we share from the deeps, we're honest in our humility and can admit that truth is our opinion of it, and we can hope and pray that we've made a good effort at it. But we cannot claim a higher authority.

We can seek, however, to be well-read, and to hold our opinions lightly. It's okay to have an opinion; that's what life is all about. I'll stand firm on my opinions, and do the best I can to see that my opinions see the light of day.

Hence, I'm pro-choice, have been pro-choice for decades, and I've given it a lot of thought. And in my own take of things, that makes me pro-life. Those who believe abortion is evil and must be outlawed have worked at it, too. So, there we are.

Let's be honest - we have our opinions, and while we'd like to think that our opinion is better than other opinions, none can make that claim - all we can do is muster what science and history we can find, think it through, and offer it up to the world as coherently as we can. Time will help clarify … though not even centuries can clear up some questions.

America Has No Sense of Sin

In a nation where Christianity has played such a pervasive role, with all of its yacking about sin, what's quite astounding is that the nation, itself, has no sense of sin.

For most of American Christianity, sin has mostly been about drinkin' and smokin' and dancin' and lately, gay sex and/or other personal/individualistic peccadillos.

But when it comes to the nation, no go … America gets away with murder, literally, and no one raises a question. And domestically, millions of Americans are eagerly discarded and dismissed because they're lazy, and whatever other character defect can be applied. A surprising number of Christians have no mindfulness of this, and some even encourage it, even as they tearfully sing "Amazing Grace."

While most Americans "remember" Pearl Harbor because it was a sneak attack, America has engineered any number of sneak attacks (remember Grenada?) and has often acted the bully around the world.

This much for Japan - at least they picked on someone their own size, and were simply doing what America has been doing ever since Reagan with Grenada and Bush with Iraq - preemptively striking.

Christianity pretty much affirms a personal truism - knowing one's sins is the essence of humility, the essence of spiritual maturity. To know God, it's said, one gets to know "how far short of God's glory a human being has fallen," and by the Holy Spirit, compelled to seek God all the more through the forgiving grace of Jesus Christ.

Christianity has made this clear for the person, but not for the nation. For the nation, alas, it's assumed that we're a "Christian" nation, and that's that.

Jeremiah and Isaiah stand in a tradition that made it clear for Israel and Judah that sin is not only personal, but national. John the Baptist makes it clear, and so does Jesus and Paul.

Abolitionists in England and the United States understood the "sins of a nation," but vested interests, i.e. the wealthy and those churches invested in the status quo, reacted quickly and decisively … sin is personal, never corporate … sin is what a person does, but the nation is a "Christian" nation endowed with divine purpose to Christianize and civilize the world.

Ah well …

If "knowing one's sin" is the essence of spiritual maturity, what about a nation?

It's interesting to note that an immature person is characterized by a sense of "innocence" - they always see their behavior in the best light, excusing all of their behavior and blaming others.

It would seem that America, as a nation, remains spiritually underdeveloped.

It refuses to face its sins of war and mistreatment of the poor.

It chooses, rather than responsibility, the strange and adolescent attitude of "innocence."

Who Wants to Hear About Grace?

One of the most insidious devices used by Satan to destroy us (personally and socially) is the story of the self-made woman ... who, by dint of her own energies and creativity, masters the world and achieves success.

American mythology is filled with images of frontier women and men bravely hacking their way through the impenetrable wilderness, fighting off wild beasts and staving off savage attacks from those who would foolishly resist progress. The loner. The entrepreneur. The successful!

American religion, as well, has drunk deeply from the well of this salvation-by-works view of life, turning many an American pulpit into a podium for motivational jargon and silly stories that always bring a tear to the eye without the genuine transformation essential to the gospel of a real Christ - a living Christ who invites us to deny ourselves, trust God radically, give away profoundly, take up our cross and follow unconditionally.

Why is this notion of a self-made woman such an insidious idea?

Well, for one, it's patently false!

If one probes beneath the surface of the lives of the successful, one discovers the hidden imprint of grace, an imprint discernible through the lens of faith, itself a gift from God.

That's the point, I suppose - life is a gift from God, every bit of it, determined by God. Though we must be careful - this idea has been used by the powerful and the wealthy to justify the poverty of others and the maintenance of the social status quo as if it were the will of God, forever and immutable. Hence, the Victorian objection to Darwin who suggested that systems actually change. Churchly high pulpits linked arms with positions of privilege to fight Darwin's ideas and to promote the "created order ordained by God" to keep others in slavery and some in the lap of luxury. How convenient to believe that poverty and privilege are ordained by God.

But the point remains: the Bible and the work of good theologians point to the mysteries of grace that bestow wealth and power without our participation. Wealth and power - gifts from God, irrespective our character, our morality, our faith or our intelligence. Ouch! Did I just say that?

Socially, the myth of the self-made woman perpetuates the kind of pride that divides a society against itself - the "successful" person, imaging her success to be of her own making, looks down her snoot at everyone else, and then publishes a book or two about how smart she is, and if working-man Pete and single-mom Susie could only be as smart and as hard-working as she's been, why, they'd be successful, too, living on easy street and enjoying the well-deserved fruits of their labors.

Clearly, one of the fiery darts used by the Evil One to puff the soul and destroy our social conscience.

On the other hand, when one confronts the mystery and the joy of grace, one realizes, quickly, just how fragile our success is - how a million little factors, way beyond our purview and control, have brought us to this point in life. It truly is "amazing grace," and such grace leaves us spell-bound and grateful and utterly humbled.

In the face of grace, we begin to see why God has blessed us ... so that we might be a blessing to others (without questioning and judging their status even as we question and judge our own status in the light of grace), and use our position to fight the larger evils that oppress and destroy body and soul.

The wealthy and the powerful, if they truly understood the source of their wealth and power, would all become deeply radical, working tirelessly to change the hideous systems of disparity and death, even supporting a much higher tax rate for themselves, because taxes are the means of a shared responsibility to care for one another, paying their taxes with joy, giving thanks for what they have without demanding ever-more.

Living in the power of grace, the wealthy and the mighty would devote themselves to legislation and programs to provide the best of schools for every child everywhere, to promote unions for the protection of the guys and gals who turn our beds and serve our food and wash our cars and clean our streets and fight our fires and solve our crimes and fight our wars. Living in grace, the powerful would work to change the world rather than using charity as a sop to the poor and a salve to a greedy conscience.

Grace no longer asks the question: Why are poor people poor? As if it were their fault.

But asks the larger question: Why has God given me so much?

And then grace rolls up her sleeves, figures out how to spend a whole lot less on the self and engage a whole lot more in making this God's world, as it should be, after all.

Grace - who want's to hear it?

But it's the truth, and only the truth, the gracious truth, shall set us free at last.