That to Which I Am Utterly Devoted ...

Wow, and then some ...

Tillich takes to task "orthodox Lutheranism" for two shortcomings: 1) to contrast the salvation of the individual with the transformation of historical groups and separating them; 2) to contrast the realm of salvation with the realm of creation, and separating them ... leaving the Kingdom of God as something beyond time and space and history, something which the "saved" enter upon death.

"Finally, this view interprets the symbol of the Kingdom of God in a static supernatural order into which individuals enter after the death - instead of understanding the symbol, with the biblical writers, as a dynamic power on earth for the coming of which we pray in the LORD's Prayer and which, according to biblical thought, is struggling with the demonic forces which are powerful in churches as well as empires."  ~ Vol. 3, p.356.

Much of the 20th Century Evangelical World fell into this trap, on the one hand, and on the other, in its "reconstructionist mode" in the last 40 years, envisions itself as "God's mighty army marching off to war," conquering this world for Christ, eliminating all ambiguity, and in such war (possibly literal), ushering in the Kingdom of God as a utopian end of history, with Christians in charge and "everyone bowing the knee," whether they like it or not.

If a former orthodoxy led Christians out of the world, allowing the orders of the world to lumber on without complaint or challenge, the current kind of Christianity, extremist and angry, will bring incredible disorder to the world by conquering the various orders and bending them toward a full and complete Christian hegemony, which has never worked, and never will, since the creative impulse of God's love engenders creativity and spontaneity and freedom rather than absolute control and management.

There are different kinds of Christianity, some of which are decidedly dangerous; some of which are purposeful and driven by justice and peace and a serious hope that, at least in fragmentary ways, history can be transformed and actually reflect the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.

To this end, and to these purposes, I devote my life.

A Letter to Christian Friends

I am an American citizen - America is where I was born and live and will likely die. My life is connected to the character and wellbeing of the nation. As it goes, so I go; not the other way around, though I hope to have some influence, not simply as an individual, a lone-ranger of sorts, but in community with others who share a similar vision of faith, hope and love.

I strive for the Kingdom of God here and now, anticipating, in my own broken way, what God desires for God's creation and all of its creatures, great and small.

As such, I cannot hide my head in some spiritual sand. I cannot hold my breath, so to speak, until the flood of history ebbs, and I'm rescued by Jesus and taken to some sweet abode far, far, away.

This is not what Jesus intended.

As Jeremiah so wisely suggested to the exiles in Babylon - Pray for the city wherein you are, for your welfare is reliant on the city's welfare.

I am connected to America - its welfare is clearly my welfare.

With that in mind, I've been lately asking: What would the world, or America, look like if the Lord's Prayer petition were fully inaugurated: Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven?

Would there be unemployment?

Would there income inequality? Would some live in the lap of luxury, often excessive in its display, while others can barely scrape by, facing horrendous decisions about paying the rent, buying food or drug prescriptions?

Would there be children living in roach-infested hovels? Dying of starvation? Trapped in the wars fought by the powerful, for the powerful, in order to gain more power?

Would there be any form of racial, ethnic or gender discrimination?

Would there be anyone who couldn't have access to good health care?

Would there be children in dilapidated schools, with peeling paint and limited supplies, while other children attend lavishly outfitted schools with all the educational accoutrements needed?

Would there be gated communities?

Would there be skid rows?

Would there be hunger?

Nakedness.

People in prison?

Answering these questions is vital; there can be no escape from them, nor can we simply say: "Well, that's God's business. One of these days, God will provide the ways and the means for all of this being resolved. In the meantime, we have to abide in Jesus, love his word and wait for the day of redemption; that is, when we die, and leave this world behind, and our soul takes a flight of fancy into the higher realms, to be with Jesus forever."

This is not the gospel.

This is not what Paul meant when he said, "Our work in the Lord is never in vain."

Nor what Jesus meant when he called his disciples, and, at the end, commissioned them to go into all the world, and into all kinds of place, with all kinds of people, to establish the kingdom, by making disciples, baptizing and teaching them everything Jesus taught.

With that in mind, thinking of Jeremiah's advice for the exiles, and my own life, and that of my family and friends, intertwined with America and its future, I ask the question: Is there a political philosophy, system and program that moves toward this, the Kingdom of God, in any way at all?

Are there political systems that move away from this vision of the Kingdom of God?

If the Kingdom of God is coming toward us, then we go out to meet it, and lay before Jesus the gifts of our world, the gifts of our prayers and our labors.

We shall not bring in the Kingdom in its completion, of course. Only God coming toward us can and will do that.

But we can and we must contribute to that Kingdom here and now - that's what it means to be faithful to Jesus, to follow in his footsteps, to take up the cross he gives to us, to die to the self, that we might live for the love of God and neighbor.

I challenge my Christian friends to ask the Kingdom questions, and then look at the political philosophies offered to this nation - none of them are "perfect," that is, complete. All are lacking, but some are clearly more aligned with Kingdom life, dealing with the questions raised above.

We do not have the luxury of dismissing everything and hiding in a spiritual cave, waiting for God to come our way and clear it all up.

We must cast our lot and make decisions.

We must live, in other words, for something more than just ourselves, our welfare, our security, our comfort and our peace.

If you know me, you know the decisions I've made.

I'll not go into those here; you can read my other stuff.

But here, at least, let me pose the questions of the Kingdom.

And encourage the reader to hold the Kingdom in one hand and the political philosophies of the day in the other, and see how they contrast and compare.

And to ask, If I have but two options, and only one vote to cast, what option offers a greater congruency with the Kingdom of God?

Proclaiming the Kingdom

If the church had proclaimed the Kingdom of God, and seriously prayed the Lord's Prayer, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven, rather than eternal salvation and the sweet by-and-by, there never would have been a slave trade, or an Andrew Jackson, a "good" Presbyterian, ordering the expulsion of the Cherokee from the Carolinas, nor would there ever have been two World Wars fought by Christian against Christian. Had the church proclaimed the Kingdom of God, Christians would have never tolerated such inhumanity or violence.

With eternal life the goal, no one really cared about the earth and its creatures. Without the kingdom at the center of the church's life, greed and violence rose up and took command. And the clergy, often the beneficiaries of the wealthy, blessed the status quo, promised salvation to the masses, and enjoyed the privilege of the few.

Is this what Jesus had in mind when he announced the Kingdom of God?

Oh well, I'm just saying ...

The Enemy Within

Have ya' read the latest "Layman" (August, 2010) and its "Letters to the editor"?

The anger runs deep.

And I'm sympathetic ... there have been times in my life, more than I like to admit, when anger, self-righteous anger (which, of course, all anger is, right?), ruled the day, and the night as well, violating the advice of Scripture, to not allow the sun to go down on one's anger.

The problem with long-standing anger is that it's never accurate in its assessment of the situation. Anger, like a magnifying glass, focuses the heat of a legitimate concern into a white-hot beam that destroys.

The letters in this issue reveal a loss of control. Anger has simply taken over mind and heart.

The enemy, the PCUSA, is all wrong. Which, of course, in even the worst of all times, wouldn't be true - after all, even a broken watch is right twice a day.

I feel for the letter-writers. They've painted themselves into a corner, and there's no way out for them right now. So the corner becomes home, and though the corner is always an uncomfortable place in which to live, it's defended with growing intensity, until all the corner-dwellers have convinced themselves they're living in theological luxury.

There would be a way out, if they could rise above their anger and temper their opinion with the simple reality that the "enemy" is more within them than anywhere else.

And a good dose of humility. But corner-dwellers cannot afford humility, because humility requires some sense of appreciation for the very people being vilified, and a sense of personal incompleteness - that whatever the opinion, the judgment, the theological point of view, no one has a full and complete grasp of God's truth and God's Kingdom.

We are what we are. Fully human and deeply sinful. And all the creeds in the world, and all our protestations to the contrary, our frailty and our fault remain.

Self-righteousness, amplified by limited conversation with other corner-dwellers, exits on all sides of any given question.

The challenge for any of us is this: how to hold an opinion (and that's what it all is, after all) firmly and faithfully, without drifting into ideology (always the danger, and let's just call it idolatry).

My heart goes out to the letter-writers. They're profoundly unhappy, and if they're pastors, my heart goes out, as well, to their congregations. That kind of anger walks into the pulpit most Sundays, for sure, and spills out into the pews, tainting the gospel with the aroma of rot.

So be it.

Church history is the story of our fightings with one another. I guess such will be the case until the final trumpet is sounded.

But until then, does not the gospel call us to something other than merely being angry with one another?

Is there not the Holy Spirit upon whom we can call, and whose influence might temper our restless hearts?

After all, said Paul, our enemies are not flesh and blood, but spiritual powers and principalities.

I think there comes a time when God walks away from a persistently angry person or organization. As in Paul's letter to the Romans, God abandons us to "shameful lusts," and there is no greater lust than the lust to be right, and no greater shame than the willful condemnation of one another.