Monday, February 14, 2011

Reading Joshua

Winners write history, and the Bible reflects that. Joshua is deeply nationalistic ... it's part of Israel's "history," but, then, so are the prophets and Ruth and Jonah and Esther. Because America is a large and powerful nation, and lots of Christians enjoy the privilege of such power (as have Christians in other western nations - Britain, Germany, Belgium, France), many have tended to read Joshua as the last word on power and might. It helps to remember that the name of Jesus is the Greek equivalent of Joshua; it is not by accident that the Son of God appears as a second Joshua, not with swords and trumpets, and tumblings walls,but with grace, mercy and peace for all, and a temple curtain torn asunder. As well, like Saul/Paul on the Damascus Road - a version of Israel's first king, but this time, a man of intellect and faith who was sent to the Gentiles with a message of hope and inclusion.

When the Southern Kingdom fell, God got out of the land business - it was too costly - in human lives and to the character of God - and ultimately it failed. Though the folks of Judah returned under Xerxes, there would never again be a nation/state comparable to that of Saul/David/Solomon. When the temple was destroyed, the connection to land was further severed.

Just because "it's in the Bible" is never a reason to go with something. It deserves our thought and a willingness to wrestle with it. There are a multiplicity of themes, greater and lesser ... in the end, we have to choose as we weigh the relative weight of ideas. The far greater weight is on a God of great compassion who truly loves the entire world. Our "holy" book wrestles with this, just like we do. Do we really want a God who loves the whole world? A God who is not a respecter of persons?



Monday, February 7, 2011

A Letter to John Ortberg


The Rev. John Ortberg
Menlo Park Presbyterian Church
Menlo Park, CA

Dear John,

With delight and gratitude, I followed your career at Willow Creek, and with attendance at many a conference, I was encouraged and blessed by your ministry and preaching, and how I enjoyed your careful exposition of Scripture, especially with your focus upon the Old Testament, the “Bible” of our LORD and Savior.

When you left Willow to become a Presbyterian, I gave thanks to God and prayed for you and the Menlo Park Church, for I am a Presbyterian pastor, and have been so since my ordination in January of 1970, First Presbyterian Church, Holland, Michigan. I emailed you a welcome note at the time of your transfer, and you were kind enough to reply.

As a pastor, I promoted your books and CDs, and used your material to guide some of my own preaching and teaching.

Last week, I saw “The Letter to the PCUSA,” and noted you as a signatory.

I felt as if I had been stabbed in the heart and betrayed.

I know many of the pastors on that letter, and I know the truth of that letter, and that’s what disturbs me so deeply.

Whatever pretensions there might be about the centrality of Jesus Christ with high doctrines of revelation, claims of orthodoxy, notions of mission for the glory of God and being Reformed, the root is politics and money and property and pride, buttressed by powerful interests on one singular issue: the ordination of gays and lesbians, and, in California, marriage rights. Fueled by the political far-right, the ordination of LGBT persons has become the line-in-the-sand.

That’s the defining element of “A Letter to the PCUSA,” because, otherwise, there is no reason to write such a letter proposing the essential dismantling of the PCUSA, the church of my ordination, and the church that welcomed you to Menlo Park.

Presbyterian pastors and their congregations have always enjoyed great liberties to conduct ministry and mission and congregational life as they see fit.

There is no reason for “The Letter;” no reason at all, other than pride, and the issues mentioned above: money, property and politics and a decision to leave a fellowship wherein LGBT ordination may someday occur without a fracas.

Carry on your work at Menlo, and let Menlo carry on its ministry, or at least be honest enough to tell the world that the ordination of LGBT people is so distasteful to you that you cannot for a moment tolerate being in a fellowship where their ordination might someday be possible. There is no need to hide behind highfalutin theological notions of the church’s purity.

In reality, the conservatives behind “the letter,” have been hungering and thirsting for a way out and the means to retain their property at the same time. What with gracious dismissal policies emerging, which I gladly support, many a large congregation, rich like the temple-keepers in Jerusalem, now can see a way to realize their dreams. Dreams emerging as far back as C67 and the “Angela Davis Defense Fund.”

Let’s face it, money and property are always the critical factors in the larger churches, and these days, politics, too. That’s the truth of this letter you’ve signed, and I fear it’s the truth of many a ministry represented by its signatories, a gathering of the “boys club.”

By now, you are no longer reading this letter, but if you are, I ask you to reflect upon your Willow journey, your effort to deepen that congregation biblically and historically, and, further, I ask you to retract your signature, because, in truth, “The Letter” is filled with flawed historical analysis and spiritually demeaning theological pretense.

Please, don’t succumb to the notion that the framers of “the letter” have the high moral ground on Scripture and tradition. The biblical work has been successfully done with regard to LGBT persons and their ordination, as the work was done in earlier periods of time with regard to persons of color, who were considered, both by the church and the US Constitution, to be less human than the white race, and the work done on the ordination of women.

Though, in both cases, there are those who yet question these developments, and who would be glad to return us to the days of segregation and racial discrimination and relegate women to the pew and teaching Sunday School. Willow’s own work on the place of women in the church ought to be a paradigm for you and the ordination of LGBT persons.

By now, you are weary of this letter, and I’m weary of writing it.

I fear that the signatories of “the letter” will walk into a dark corner, shared by the likes of Orthodox Presbyterians, Bible Presbyterians, Presbyterian Church in America and the Evangelical Presbyterian Church – fractured and fractious bodies, driven by a certain “Presbyterian madness” – the so-called “purity” of the church, with all love being truly lost. “The letter” is a formula for disaster, but like the powerful of Jerusalem, blinded by their unreasonable “trust in God,” the cry of Jeremiah goes unheeded, as Jerusalem, with its tainted sense of purity, speeds headlong into ruin.

With sadness and resolute determination to do everything I can to illumine the flaws of “The Letter to the PCUSA,” I am,

The Rev. Dr. Thomas P. Eggebeen
Interim Pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church
Los Angeles

CC: To all the world.

I'm really glad to be here. It's a miracle, ya' know, that any of us are. 

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Drug Companies and Whistle Blowers

In the January 25, 2011 Los Angeles Times, an article about a small pharmacy in Florida that has become a giant whistleblower on big drug companies and their pricing strategies.

It seems that big pharmaceuticals keep their prices low when selling to doctors and pharmacies, squeezing out generic drugs, and then turn around and bill state and federal agencies hugely inflated prices.

Because of this small pharmacy and its whistle blowing, hundreds of millions of dollars have been recovered from the drug companies.

I find myself thinking of Jesus and the disciples in Jerusalem, as the disciples ooh and awe over the impressive buildings. Unimpressed, Jesus turns to watch a widow sacrificially put in a few small coins to support the temple enterprise, while the wealthy drop in huge sums, but only for show and without sacrifice.

Most importantly, Jesus then describes the wealthy and their temple enterprise as a fraudulent system devouring widows’ houses (Mark 12 & 13).

I believe there’s a connection between this moment in the gospels and our world today.

We hear much about government wastefulness and national health-care programs that will never work, along with the mantra: we can trust big biz to provide for us, as long we give it unfettered reign. Government is the problem; biz is the solution.

This was the mantra of the Jerusalem establishment. With its impressive buildings and public piety, people were seduced, as was the widow, and duped into supporting the temple enterprise, believing it to be good, when, in fact, it was rife with corruption.

It didn’t take long for the temple establishment to get all over Jesus, calling him a liar, accusing him of getting his facts wrong, and naming him an enemy of Israel. The Jerusalem establishment joined hands with Rome, and with their combined wealth and might, with their laws and regulations, with their influence and with their armies, they strove with all their resources to silence Jesus.

These days, how many widows’ homes are devoured by the drug companies, and other megacorps, who plow ahead with unregulated pricing structures, international arrangements that are virtually impossible to monitor, gouging the government of much needed tax revenue, manipulating laws and rewriting regulations, causing many to doubt the effectiveness of national health-care, calling for an end to national health-care, going, after Social Security, accusing the government of fraud and waste, while racking in illicit millions.

Is this not the temple establishment in Jerusalem?

Are these not the marble and glass office buildings and skyscrapers that impress us, but are, in fact, warehouses of fraud, deception and greed, at the expense of truth and people?

Thank God for folks who blow the whistles on such things, and may Jesus, himself a whistleblower, as was John the Baptist and the prophets of old and the author of Revelation 18, inspire us to be mindful of the beautiful buildings of power built upon fraud, and the misleading narrative that invites our trust even as it fleeces our pockets.

The moral task of the pulpit is a serious one. The moral imperative for the church, to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth, calls us to tell the truth about the huge and deeply fraudulent systems that still devour widows’ home.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Living in Two Worlds: Hope and Despair

Written for the Presbyterian Outlook blog ...

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I find myself in two worlds: hope and despair.

I think the two are related, in a symbiotic way.

I get the uneasy feeling that hope needs despair in order to be hope, in any authentic way. Hope is a part of the faith I have in Christ, a faith that confronts the "realities" of the day, without flinching, yet rises above them to claim the providence of God, God-at-work, in all things. Without despair in things as they are, hope for things as they will be seems shallow and self-serving.

Which then makes despair an integral part of my spiritual layout. Not that I'm happy about that, but I'm in good company.

I think the Prophets are people of despair and hope, and sometimes the oscillation is severe (read Isaiah). Jesus speaks of his "troubled" heart (John 12:27), as well, and then speaks of "my joy" (John 15:11). I can't have one without the other, if I understand anything about the ways of God in my life.

Paul says that hope has a lot "invisibility" to it - things unseen (Romans 8:25), and then reminds us that it's the Holy Spirit that prays within us, for us and with us, when we can't see, with "sighs too deep for words."

I live in both worlds, and maybe you do, too.

I think Matthew lives in both as he pens the opening chapters of his gospel. He begins with an affirmation of faith in God's ordering of history (Chapter 1), then moves the reader into some of the dark materials of our world (Chapter 2) and then blends it all together in Chapters 3 and 4.

The Gospels help me with despair - not to move me out of it, but to bear it, as a cross, in the name of Jesus, and bear it with hope in the providence of God.

If despair takes hold, and I live only in Chapter 2, what with the conniving of Herod and his bloodlust for anyone who threatens his throne, my spirit grows heavy.

Yet, if I try to live only in hope, with sweet nostrums piled high all about me, my spirit objects, for what right do I have to escape from sorrow and sadness when millions of human beings are condemned to mean and miserable lives, for want of justice and peace?

To follow Christ is to spend time in both realms - in the darkness of Herod's world and in the brightness of a Magi's star.

To live with Jesus shedding tears on the brow of the hill overlooking Jerusalem and with his incredible forgiveness and reinstatement of Peter after the resurrection.

I live in both worlds - maybe you do, too.

Tom Eggebeen, Interim Pastor
Covenant Presbyterian Church
Los Angeles, CA

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Following the Script


The more conservative the congregation to which someone belongs, the more likely I hear in their conversation "the script."

This is rarely the case for Presbyterians, whatever their persuasion, though I find this happening with a bit more frequency as fundagelicalism takes root in our congregations - what with easy praise music and the four-point therapy message, with appropriate screen images, and the need to always be "victorious."

As if, before anything else can transpire in the conversation, sort of like clearing the throat, a certain number of "god-honoring," or "Christ-witnessing" statements must be said, and said in such a way as to impress upon the hearer the "victory" of the gospel.

We all use our scripts, I suppose, in order to establish, both in the mind of the speaker and the listener, the lay of the land. I suspect folks are really trying to convince themselves, more than anything else, because life is scary and life is hard and life is confusing - realities to which various forms of fundagelicalism cannot and will not admit.

I don't like scripted language, because it's not real, even when the person is speaking of "their personal relationship with Jesus" or whatever else they may be trying to impress upon me.

Perhaps, since I'm a pastor, there's some urgency in the speaker's mind to be sure that I know they're saved and bound for glory.

Or, because I'm a Presbyterian pastor, some urgency to witness to the unsaved, which seems to be the status to which I'm assigned in conservative or fundamentalist circles.

In some respects, I think, the issue of "scripted christian-speak" falls under the category addressed by James when he writes, "Above all, do not swear - by heaven or by earth or by anything else. Let your "yes" be yes, and your "no" be no, or you will be condemned."

Christians who try too hard are not likely to succeed in their witness, though God is merciful, and can use most anything to further the cause of the gospel.

But James, I think, hits the nail on the head with scripted language - don't use it. When we talk, let's talk authentically.

If we're afraid, then we're afraid ... if we're confused or uncertain, then so be it ... if we don't know how to say something, then be quiet. None of this is an affront to the Father who loves us and to the Christ in whom we have life, nor to the Holy Spirit who gives us words, and sometimes gives us silence, as well.

More than anything, I try to help such folks get beyond the script so they actually say what's on their mind and heart.

In the course of the conversation, I usually find them relaxing and being more at ease, because that's what honesty is all about ... when our "yes" is a yes and our "no" is a no.

To God be the glory.

Tom Eggebeen, Interim Pastor, Covenant Presbyterian Church, Los Angeles. 




Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Max De Pree Center for Leadership at Fuller Theological Seminary



Dear Friends,

Just finished reading the latest "Fuller: Theology, News and Notes" and was taken aback by a brief excerpt from Michael Novak's lecture (p.35).

If this quote represents the sum and substance of Novak's work, then I must raise a serious question about the purpose of the De Pree Center for Leadership - leadership of what? The people of God, the faithful in Christ, or the capitalist machine that is clearly revealing the fruits of a lot of bad decisions and flawed logic.

The few remarks printed struck me as nothing more than the same old nonsense we've heard from the Wall Street Journal and such, and to suggest that a "moral case" for capitalism can be made is stunning in its hubris - what with 40 million Americans without health insurance and millions more under-insured, and millions out-or-work, victims of the largest transfer of wealth in history - from the pockets of the many to the hands of the few, with millions of good and decent jobs sent overseas so that the giants of capitalism might improve their bottom line and continue in their media effort to manipulate the American people into believing that all is well, because all is well with the top 2 percent of this nation, who continue to whine, by the way, all the more, about the hardships of taxation and wondering how they'll pay for their next Bentley.

Novak is billed as scholar, yet gives no evidence of any scholarly sensibilities about China. I was stunned at the arrogance of his comments, offering a sadly simplistic analysis of China's development and "it's bet" as he puts. Goodness, it seems to me that we've bet the house and grandmother, too, and we're not faring very well at all; we've lost the house, and grandma has no health insurance. Some bet!

Fortunately,this bizarre lecture-description was bracketed by excerpts on "Walk Humbly with Your God" by Clayton J. Schmit and "Life-Giving Spirit" by Luke Timothy Johnson. How ironic that humility and Spirit would bracket such a bunch of big-money humbug.

Anyway, just thought I'd offer my two-cents' worth.

God's Peace.

Tom Eggebeen, Interim Pastor
Covenant Presbyterian Church
Los Angeles, CA


Merciful God, I pray thee to grant me, if it please thee, ardor to desire thee, diligence to seek thee, wisdom to know thee and skill to speak to the glory of thy name. Amen (Thomas Aquinas)


Monday, November 8, 2010

The Mind, the Face, of American Christianity?


She had forgotten to “fall back” with her clock, what with being a visitor and staying with friends just down the street from the church.

As it turns out, upon moving to Colorado Springs 30 years ago with her husband, joined the First Presbyterian Church there, but then affiliated a few years back with Ted Haggard’s New Life Church, “Where,” she said, “we had those shootings” (no mention of Haggard’s troubles).

The conversation began when she asked, “Are there any evangelical churches nearby?”

I replied, “What do you mean by evangelical? We’re evangelical here.”

She said, “Oh, I mean non-denominational.”

To which I responded, “We have only denominational churches in the area. But, then, all churches are sort of denominational, including the independent churches who do a lot of things alike – sing the same music, and worship pretty much the same.”

She said, “Oh sure, but for me, it’s the Bible. I only believe what the Bible says.”

At which point, I changed the subject.

She joined with a few folks in my office for prayer and then stayed for worship. Afterward, she expressed gratitude for the day, though it took her awhile to adjust to a bulletin and a printed liturgy and hymnals.

I couldn’t help but feel sorrow for her, an otherwise bright-spirited person who loves the LORD, but without any personal awareness of the culture in which she has been living and moving for some years now.

When she retreated to “I only believe what the Bible says,” I knew that we had reached her limit.

How sad for her, and millions like her, who are fed spiritual pabulum by silver-tongued preachers in multi-million dollar buildings with the latest in technology, mindless praise songs – you know, the 7-11 kind – seven words repeated eleven times. And they leave these stainless steel sanctuaries convinced that they “believe what the Bible teaches” and that “denominational churches” are suspicious.

No wonder the confusion in American religion, but don’t for a moment think that I believe our mainline gang is in any better shape, conservative or liberal.

American Christianity, by and large, stopped thinking some time after WW2, or so it seems to me, though I think the antecedents in a Billy Sunday and the bully pulpits of the big-city churches during the Roaring Twenties had already started the full retreat from mindfulness.

The influx of post-WW2 millions into the churches, in quest of stability, home, marriage and the suburban life, guaranteed the church’s material success, but at what price for the faith? Then came McCarthyism, Eisenhower and the insertion of “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance, and our all-out war against god-less Communism. Then Billy Graham, who took Billy Sunday’s world and mainstreamed it, and before you know it, millions were singing “Just as I Am” and signing up for Jesus, while leaving their minds in the parking lot, only to retrieve it later, untouched by the gospel now held so dearly in their hearts.

All of this, allowing American Christians to embrace the central sin of the Book of James, faith without ethics, or faith without works. Or at least the kind of works envisioned by James – to confront and overcome partiality driven by appearances, boasting about tomorrow and a growing love of riches, little of which seems to bother contemporary Christians in America.

Meanwhile, our seminaries have suffered deeply under the pressure to turn out “leaders” who can compete in the religious marketplace with all the tools and styles inherent in the American entrepreneurial spirit.

All of this, abetted by the rise of the megachurch (safe and comfortable) led by charismatic pastors generally skilled in teaching and preaching but shy on theological discernment – relying a great deal on slogans, mission statements, splendid graphics, inspiring praise music, gripping dramatic presentations and “I believe what the Bible teaches.” Thus able to convince and energize their audiences, but not likely to move them along spiritually,

Mainliners themselves have little to crow about. Conservatives have hunkered down, taking refuge in their various confessions and theological traditions while liberals have jumped onto a variety political bandwagons. Neither group seems particularly interested in what the Bible truly offers in its multifaceted witness to God and what it means to be God’s people, often responding with, “But the confessions say …” or “the latest socio-psychological studies suggest….”

If the visitor from Colorado Springs is, in anyway, the face, or the mind, of American Christianity, we’re in trouble.

Though God will see us through, as God always does, in one way or the other.

But in the meantime, I hope and pray that the voices of reason and compassion, those who love Scripture and tradition, for liberals and conservatives alike, and all those who are willing to work hard at the faith, so that the faith can work hard in our souls, will not surrender the pulpit to mediocrity in the name of success, nor abandon people to the mindless slogans of religious marketeering.