The only thing we have to fear...

In his first inaugural address,  Franklin Delano Roosevelt said, "...the only thing we have to fear, is fear itself..." (Go to this link to hear a stirring, audio excerpt of this speech: http://historymatters.gmu.edu/d/5057). His administration ushered in a period of history often referred to as the "American Century," and it was a time of hope, of vanquishing foes, of rebuilding, and of more hope, right up through our nation's 44th President. The "American Century" may be waning before its hundred years is up. A trusted political commentator recently suggested that we are becoming a fearful people again, possibly being told whom to fear, and even being urged to arm ourselves against the threats that may come from our neighbors or across the sea. We are clearly not living in a time of optimism and hope.

Another voice I was reading recently said that we have lost touch with what he called "the American Jeremiad." By this he meant that we have been at our best as a nation when we are self-critical, comparing our current reality and its actions against the values we hold dear--"liberty and justice for all," "e pluribus unum" (out of many, one), and even "one nation, under God." Holding out hope that the "American Experiment" will stand the test of time--or at least the current moment--is what has kept us a strong nation, and made us a beacon (of sorts) to many other nations. However, as the jeremiad principle illustrates, we must never stop being self-critical, balanced by a sober view of how we are doing against our national values, and being soothed and encouraged by optimism and hope. Again, we do not seem to be living in those times. Where is our hope? We have a President who has stated on more than one occasion that "he is the only one who can solve our problems." Any one who believes this has abandoned the "American Experiment," and is wrapping up all hope into a singular figure. The Romans had a word for this--Caesar.

As Christian people, we profess Jesus as Lord. In a discussion with St. Paul's Pastor Emeritus recently, he recounted reading Marcus Borg's statement: "Jesus is Lord--Caesar is not." Maybe it's time for a refresher course on this concept? There are a great variety of ways to interpret "Jesus is Lord," but if we keep the focus on Jesus, I still believe we will be on the right track. I happen to believe that the teachings of Jesus in the Sermon the Mount from Matthew offer incredible guidance on how we do this.

John F. Kennedy said in his inaugural address, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." Martin Luther King, Jr., in speaking about the parable of The Good Samaritan, questions the motives of the actors. The priest and levite in the story asked themselves, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But the Good Samaritan asked, "If I don't stop and help this man, what will happen to him?" How have we gotten to a place as a people and as a nation to where the universal question seems to be, "What's in it for me?" This is a question that propels us away from life in community, and toward a fearful, protective life, if you want to call it that. And, it ain't American! And it certainly isn't Christian, a faith whose scriptures say things like "Perfect love casts out all fear," and "God has not given you a spirt of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind."

The fear that seems to be gripping people is leading to inappropriate and dangerous actions, including but not exclusively limited to: more citizens buying and carrying guns; more and increasing "hate speech," (from all political angles); "justified" classism, racism, sexism; and isolationism. These are not the things that Christ taught, and politically, they are not the values the American "Founding Fathers" gave us.

So, what are we to do about this state of affairs? We should stay informed, using time-honored and time-tested sources of news and information. Read books! And read some history. Read the Bible, for God's sake, and then connect up with your faith community to discuss what you read so you don't form yet another individualized, isolated, and possibly highly distorted opinion about what it says! That last part is so important--put yourself in community with people who look and think differently than you! It is in this diversity, dialogue, and wrestling with each other and the issues that we will discover both compromise and integrity, as people, as a country, and as a church. If we only affiliate with those who are just like we are, we may come to believe that our tribe is right, and the only ones who are right. At that point, fear wins--fear of "the other," fear of what might happen, and fear of what may happen to us. Remember the parable of The Good Samaritan, and what Dr. King said about it. And, as an American, remember what FDR and JFK said. We've got to turn the corner on this, or our future is not only much dimmer, but more precarious.

Angels of Mercy...

While spending time with a church family in a Pittsburgh hospital this week, I took notice of the medical professionals attending to the patient I was visiting. What amazing people. Each one that entered the room was cordial, exceptionally accommodating to the family, and communicated in a clear, helpful way. Nurses, aids, physicians, even the housekeeping personnel were, to a person, superb in both plying their skills and interacting with the family in an encouraging, open manner. It may be my imagination, but it seems to me that this kind of patient-centered medical "hospitality" is on the increase, at least in the hospitals we visit as clergy. Given the way the medical community is being hammered by bad press today, this is an unexpected reaction, taking human nature into consideration.

Medical costs are too high...hospitals are understaffed and over-crowded...doctors have a poor "bedside manner"...UPMC stands for "U Pay Me Cash"...why does an aspirin in the hospital cost $10? On and on, we are critical of the healthcare field--that is until you really need these people. Even with our criticizing them from every direction, they appear to be working to be nicer to us, more caring, and more careful in how they care. The cynic might say these behaviors are "required" strategies to ward off lawsuits in a litigious time. However, the genuineness and integrity of the behaviors I have observed would seem to dispute this assertion. Maybe, just maybe, at a time when their profession is somewhat under siege, these professionals are responding by doing their job even better and with more obvious caring concern for their patients? What a concept. Is this healthcare's answer to "turn the other cheek?" (I could suggest a bad "injection site" joke here, butt I'll refrain...)

Maybe the world would be a better place if we all chose to respond to biting criticism and cutting sarcasm (even when it is at least partly deserved) with doing what we do better and in a friendlier mood? Maybe this is exactly what Jesus meant when he did the "turn the other cheek" thing. Human nature, unbridled, would have us become defensive, looking to blast holes in the presenting criticism, or even worse, taking a swing at the critic. The worst "punches" we throw are the ones that may be deserved by the punch-ee, at least from Jesus' viewpoint. Having every reason to strike back, and every right, according to some, the Christ-follower is beckoned to drop the fists, offer grace, and even strive to understand the one who raised our ire.

Nobody said discipleship is easy. The word disciple means "student" or "one who learns." Going to school on those who criticize us, and hearing their legitimate, helpful "correctives," though they may be couched in vitriol or impudence, and then responding by improving our "serve" is a Jesus kind of way of handling the situation. It's decidedly NOT easy! And if the criticism happens to strike a nerve worn bare by a history of harassment or emotional abuse, it may not even be possible for everyone, even people committed to growing in faith. But for those of us who are fortunate to have avoided these developmental pitfalls, it is a good goal. The Bible says that the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness...there is no law against these responses.

My clergy colleagues and I (and, our St. Paul's Leadership Team) have been reading the book, The Anatomy of Peace from the Arbinger Institute. In this book, it is suggested that we can approach controversial issues--or criticism--with either a "heart of peace" or a "heart of war." The "heart of peace" people see the person first, respects them, and then addresses the issue at hand. The "heart of war" people see only the issue and the argument, and their "conversation" may too quickly move from debate to debasing the other. Developing a "heart of peace" may be a secular way of saying "turn the other cheek," and "love your neighbor as you love yourself." Friends, I can write about this stuff, but this is one area of my life where I have to work so hard to develop a "heart of peace," as my sarcastic, often "salty" retorts in forensic exchanges can pop out SO effortlessly. With Pentecost upon us this coming weekend, my personal Holy Spirit prayer is that I will learn to live out I Peter 3:9 from the Bible: Don't repay evil for evil. Don't retaliate with insults when people insult you. Instead, pay them back with a blessing. That is what God has called you to do, and God will bless you for it.

The medical professionals I witnessed this week were doing that "heart of peace" thing, and were offering blessings. Bravo to them. Bravo. Can church people do this stuff? Can we develop the "heart of peace?" I wouldn't be doing what I do if I didn't believe we could. As we celebrate Pentecost and the coming of the Holy Spirit this week, may we get the gift of "speaking in tongues"--of speaking with a civil, affirming, and conciliatory tone and tune. Grace, Yinz...

Future Church...

Jesus said "...on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." (Matthew 16:18). I wonder if he was looking ahead to our time and seeing the perilously uncertain times the Christian church is facing? "The gates of hell" that threaten it may not have anything to do with the "Church Lady's" Satan or Dante's hell. Much simpler but in some ways more "sinister" forces are knocking. Let's examine some of those things...

Apathy: many people of faith are too tired, too stressed, or to scheduled to participate in the church. These are folk who want to be church members, who want to live and express their Christian faith, but who have just gotten out of the "habit" of attending worship or plugging into their small group. Bad habits are easy to pick up again, "good" or beneficial habits are much, much more difficult to reengage once dropped or let go dormant. That just seems to be human nature. These are folk who get that "I'm guilty" look on their faces when I, as one of their pastors, run into them in the Giant Eagle or at Eat n' Park.

Apoplexy: others are "crippled" by anger or disgust at what they see being portrayed as "Christian" or "Evangelical" in the media, and have chosen to disassociate themselves from the church. "Evangelicals" who support autocratic leadership bordering on tyrannical, or leaders whose lifestyles seem 180 degrees out of phase from what followers of Jesus are challenged to exhibit, create angst in some and anger in others whose idea of following Jesus means actually doing and supporting the things Jesus did and taught us to do. Angst or anger are enough to drive persons away from an institution seen as a "home base" for "Evangelicals." Why would those calling themselves "Evangelicals" support leaders who do such things? Unfortunately, the answer seems to be that they see such leadership as being able to deliver on a singular goal: a large enough majority on the U.S. Supreme Court to get the specific rulings they want. These "Evangelicals" seem to be easily "look the other way" when licentious national leaders demonstrate an excessive talent for personal immorality.

Alienation: the controversy over inclusion of LGBTQ+ individuals in the church has certainly affected how people choose to affiliate with or or disassociate themselves from the institutional church. A contentious feud has been brewing within my denomination, The United Methodist Church, over this very issue. People who represent a broad spectrum of theological and social perspectives, and who currently affiliate with Methodism, will either go or stay, depending upon the direction the denomination chooses (some iteration of inclusion of LGBTQ+ persons, maintaining the ambivalent status quo, or adding new rules and punitive measures to "enforce" them). However, as the denomination makes this determination, it should realize that the "church of tomorrow," namely the younger set, are strongly shaded in the direction of full inclusion of all persons in the total life of the church, and they will "vote with their feet" if The United Methodist Church--and any institutional church--chooses to restrict or disallow LGBTQ+ involvement in the organized church. And they happily point to Jesus who was light years ahead on inclusion of marginalized persons into his "kingdom," and didn't speak out against persons based on sexual orientation or identity.

Another "gate of hell" that will could threaten the future of the church is that of complacency. The current structure--both organizationally and literally (meaning the actual church facility)--needs to be reevaluated for the future. Our organizational structure, and this goes for all denominations, including Catholic and Protestant, is daunting and crippling in the minds of the people whom the church will need for the coming years, if it is to survive. And, as I have seen, younger people eschew spending lots of money on buildings and grounds, and prefer funding mission and ministry, an almost complete reversal from the "church values" of my Baby Boomer generation and older. They will be less attracted to a fancy or expensive edifice, and more drawn to a lean, "mean," missional machine. The church I serve--St. Paul's--desired to expand its ministry twenty years ago, so it began expanding its facility to accommodate this goal, and the people ponied up the dollars. (Incidentally, when the people of St. Paul's DID build, they built serviceable, practical space, not "eye candy.") Today when we talk about expanding ministry, the leaders aren't nearly as excited about expanding a building as they are at finding innovative ways to do ministry that is not hampered or limited by a building!  The church of the future may not be one limited to a physical address, if it is to attract the coming generations of people. What we DO may be much more important to these people than what we ARE. Honestly, if that doesn't sound like a good idea to you, you'll have to take it up with Jesus, as he wasn't into addresses, either.

Finally, another "gate of hell" is something I read in an article a colleague shared with me recently: the church of the future may well find itself with a severe shortage of clergy to lead it. The Roman Catholic Church is already seeing this, due to its overly tight rules as to who can be a priest and who cannot. Younger people are beginning to resist ministry as a calling in the Protestant churches as well, and for many reasons: the exorbitant cost of the required education vs. poor pay upon placement; the resistance to change and new ideas in the established churches they may serve after graduation; and the aging of current congregations which limits both volunteer manpower and funding for ministry. Younger potential pastors also resist serving any church that restricts in any way whom they may serve--for many of them, for instance, LGBTQ+ exclusion is a deal-breaker, as is the homogeneous nature of so many current congregations.

Well, we still have that promise of Jesus that the "gates of hell" shall not prevail against the church. Note, however, that Jesus was not talking about the "institutional" or "organized religion" church, as it did not yet exist. He was talking about the church as the basilea of God, the worshipping, learning, serving community of Christ followers who take literally the Matthean parable that the "Kingdom of God is like a great dragnet thrown into the sea that gathered some of every kind," meaning the work of the church is to "fish" for every kind of "fish" (diverse persons) and welcome them into what God is doing, with no strings attached (other than those of the net itself). No, I believe the church will prevail, as Jesus said, because it is based upon the "solid rock" of the Good News of Jesus Christ, and upon what Jesus taught us. He taught us to love, redeem, and transform people, not to be "fish" inspectors. (I've always loved a bumper sticker I saw several years ago: "You catch 'em, I'll clean 'em."--God.)

Let us pray for the church of the future, and for a change of heart in the church of the present that it may become future-oriented, rather than a museum of its past.

Destiny?

While driving to St. Paul's today, I heard a radio ad for a preacher named Joel Osteen. I think his wife--who is also a clergy person--was featured in the ad, too. The tagline of the ad was, "Everything you need to fulfill your destiny is at hand and available to you right now!" The ad went on to invite people to tune in their glitzy TV presentation of this "exciting new teaching series." I've seen the Osteens, and they don't do anything for me. I think these are the people who live in a multi-million dollar mansion and fly in a private jet to their engagements. It's a bit much for people who claim to be calling folk to faith in a carpenter from Nazareth who "had no where to lay his head" when he walked the earth. I have long been a student of great preaching down through the history of the church, and while some sermons I have heard or read were like a fine Merlot or a cup of perfectly-brewed Kona, this Osteen stuff is banana Fizzies. But I digress...

It's the word destiny that caught my attention. Do we really have a destiny? Webster's defines destiny as "the hidden power believed to control what will happen in the future--fate." Some view destiny as a preprogramed path for our life that is our job to discover and be in the right place and the right time to fulfill. (Apparently, the Osteens believe they have a verbal elixir that will make this happen for you.) Many Christian believers hold that God is the "hidden power" that controls what will happen in the future, and that belief is even reduced to where God has a "will" for every element of our personal lives, including what kind of car we should drive and who we should hang out with. I'm not there, friends.

I believe God to be a "big picture" deity when it comes to running the world, and one who calls me to fit into that picture, but more like a chip in a kaleidoscope than a specific piece of a picture puzzle. I know God loves you and me--that is what Jesus was (and certainly IS) all about. But does God have one, singular and "necessary" will for our lives? I don't see it. I love my children more than I can express in thousands of words and in a lifetime of relating to them, and in that love, the last thing I ever wanted to do was control their lives. Oh, I did my job as parent when they were young, providing boundaries to keep them safe, and opportunities to broadly experience life, the universe, and everything so they could decide what they wanted to do with their earthly days, but I never wanted to control them, prescribe their paths, or limit their possibilities, and I happen to believe that God is the greatest parent of them all! When Jesus said he wanted us to have an abundant life, I think he meant a fulfilling, deeply personal, yet respectful of others life, and one fully engaged in all of the pursuits we find interesting, stimulating and meaningful. And this abundant life would be one only complete when we aided in assuring that all of God's children had an equal chance at the same life. The abundant life Jesus talked about was never--ever a "zero-sum game" where, in order for me to "get mine," you couldn't "have yours."

God, like any great parent, doesn't want to steal away the "free will" with which we were created. There is no prescribed destiny or mandated path for any of us--just an incredible, unfolding "big picture" of a "kingdom" or "realm" being born into our world, and we have the freedom to participate in its revealing! That is the message of the Bible and of Jesus, as I see it. Don't waste your time looking for some "blueprint" of "God's will" for your life (destiny). Instead, seek the Spirit's wisdom and guidance as you explore what life is for you, how you may relate lovingly with others, and how together these pursuits may lead to abundance.

I'm a Wesleyan, at heart, meaning I appreciate and try to emulate John Wesley's understanding of the Christian gospel. Wesley was a "free will," not a destiny guy. Wesley developed the biblical and intellectual tools to fully engage life, and then set out to help others do the same. His journey to find his path was not without its potholes and barriers along the way, but he persisted. I think persisting is a good thing. Persisting is a much more biblical understanding of God, spirituality, and redemption than most of the junk I hear coming from TV preachers and "Christian" self-help books today. If I persist in finding my direction, growing in my faith, and in discovering new ways to relate to others on their journey, and not just to appreciate, but to work synergistically alongside them, I will find little time to judge others or to draw boundaries as to who's included and who is not in the coming Realm of God.

However, if I bow to the temptation to believe that there is some prescribed destiny for my life, I think I would become totally self-absorbed. That can't be good. Maybe I'd end up living in a multi-million dollar mansion and flying in my own plane, telling others to send me their money so they can find their destiny, too? No, I'm having such a blast doing this persisting stuff that I have to believe the destiny-seekers are going to find an empty well at the end of their quest. Years ago, an author I was reading said, the journey is our home. I like that. What is prescribed for us is our destination. Our loving God will receive us into our final home. But this life--this is where we get to explore and shine, and make something of our days that any great parent would be proud of! Destiny? Fugetaboutit!

Interfaith..

Ecumenical doesn't mean the same thing as Interfaith. Christians--and Christian clergy--are often happy to be ecumenical, which typically means fellowshipping, strategizing, engaging in study or service with, or otherwise acknowledging Christians of other denominations. Laity are much more natural at doing this than clergy, for they are neighbors, co-workers, friends, and even family to others of different, but usually Christian, faith traditions. I have known clergy who would not fraternize with clergy of what they would consider "radically" different Christian churches or denominations. Fundamentalist pastors, for example, are often not comfortable with "mainline" clergy who interpret the Bible using historical-critical skills in an attempt to discern what passages from the Bible meant when first written versus what they may mean for us today. Charismatic Christians or Pentecostals may make "mainline" clergy uncomfortable, with their belief that through the sign gifts and "conversational" prayer, they have a highly personal and intimate relationship with God, who may even tell them which car to buy. Roman Catholic priests were at one time reticent about joining local clergy associations or ministeriums, but most priests today, who were raised in the post-Vatican II era, are quite engaging of such ecumenical efforts, even participating in ecumenical services, as their time allows.

Interfaith engagements is another matter. Interfaith obviously means some meeting of the minds of persons who may have entirely different views of God, holy writ, and customs or traditions. Interfaith gatherings may include Christians, Jews, Muslims, Unitarians, Buddhists, Hindus, B'ahi adherents, Sikhs, and/or cultural or geographical manifestations of any of these faith groups. Our N.O.R.T.H. (Neighborhood Organizations Responding Together for Hope) Interfaith group has even had several Mormon friends joining us. Again, there are adherents to any of these faith groups, and ones from others not listed, who eschew Interfaith cooperation, but all of the ones listed have had persons involved in some of N.O.R.T.H.'s activities and justice work.

Speaking as a United Methodist clergy person, I can attest to the fact that not all of my United Methodist colleagues are comfortable with Interfaith relationships, and that is certainly their choice. I have found these Interfaith intersections to be unique and wonderful opportunities to learn about, appreciate, and respect the faith journey of others. While I maintain my Christian witness--and all of the other faith groups strongly affirm my integrity in doing so--I don't try to "convert" others in these encounters, or criticize their belief systems in any way. I happen to believe the "kingdom" (or Realm) of God--what Dr. King called "The Beloved Community"--is much greater and more inclusive than I can wrap my limited Christian mind around. I have to be honest--my Christian faith seems comparatively simple to me, as I believe God does the "heavy lifting," leaving me to mostly try to love others according to the teachings of Jesus, and to work for justice and peace in my world. Some of these other faiths have such respect and reverence for God, and the essentials for them often seem to require such discipline and devotion in practicing various prayers, rituals, and acts of mercy and kindness that I think I would be a mediocre disciple, were I to try. While I may see the love, grace, and redemption of Christ--a free gift to me, and one I cannot earn--as a "selling point" of Christianity, I have learned that it can also create in some of our adherents a licentiousness and apathy that dilutes or oversimplifies the deeper aspects of living out one's Christian life and discipleship. My Muslim friends have five times of required prayer each day, and Five Pillars that all Muslims are challenged to observe throughout their lifetime. There have been times in my Christian ministry that, when I suggested to my congregations that they should have some kind of daily office with God, the response has been, shall we say, less than enthusiastic. Oh, and sometimes my own devotion to it has been, too! And please don't say, Christian reader, that Muslims pray the five prayers and observe the Five Pillars because they have to. Most of my Muslim colleagues and friends do so out of a deep, personal sense of devotion and affection for Allah.

This is not a theological column, though. I don't want to argue the merit of my faith against the others (wouldn't do it, personally), nor make any judgments about the motivations and beliefs of the others that might alienate them from me and me from them. I do want to share, however, that beyond learning from my Interfaith friends, I have loved to serve with them and engage in justice work and peacemaking with them. You see, all of our theologies lead us toward "fixing the world" or "restoring God's benevolent order" to it in such a way that all persons may be accepted, affirmed, and offered equal opportunities in our local communities, and in this nation. Some of my Interfaith friends are immigrants, and it pains me to see them denigrated or harassed in a nation that is founded on the principle that "all [men] are created equal." Beyond friendship, the point of intersection for N.O.R.T.H. is our desire for justice, peace, and safety for all of God's people, and the right for the "pursuit of happiness."

Sometimes this cooperative, Interfaith work means just respecting and understanding each other. However, at other times it means attending public hearings or meetings together to speak with a common voice, or raising funds to help others who are suffering. On a couple of occasions it has meant standing with our Muslim friends when they were being threatened by intolerant neighbors or denied the opportunity to purchase property by prejudiced property owners. We have stood with our local Unitarian Universalist friends when their "Black Lives Matter" signs were being stolen or vandalized right on their own church property.

N.O.R.T.H. began "Friendship Dinners" in January of 2017 where all of our Interfaith friends come together to fellowship around the table, and discuss common concerns. Sometimes we have used these dinners to form Affinity Groups organized around a cause such as dismantling racism, LGBTQIA inclusion, voting rights, gun safety, or immigration. Other times we have held more formal "round table" discussions around a topic, such as the one at our upcoming April 19 dinner, which is around the issues of racism and white privilege. Most of all, these dinners have created a bigger neighborhood for each of us. One table of eight, made up of persons of different ethnic, national, and faith backgrounds, decided to meet together outside of our "Friendship Dinners," and as far as I know, they still do get together in each other's homes in this manner for fellowship and understanding.

Interfaith encounters have been so very enriching to me, personally. The purpose of this column is to encourage you, the reader, to be open to them and to find opportunities to participate in one. However, if this is not your "cup of tea," so to speak, please be respectful of those who have found it a portal into The Beloved Community Dr. King spoke about. And if your pastor, priest, rabbi, imam (or whatever title you give to your faith's "clergy") chooses to participate in cooperative, Interfaith endeavors, please don't trash them for it.

Thanks for listening...Shalom, Yinz.

Stepchild...

What comes after Easter? 50 days. 50 days, then Pentecost. Pentecost is the stepchild of the Christian year, at least for most of us. How excited do you get for Pentecost?

My Charismatic/Pentecostal friends sort of get into it, but honestly, they rather "celebrate" the Holy Spirit through the "sign gifts" all year long. Most of us "mainline" Christians try to get psyched up for it, but it really has little love going for it, culturally. I haven't seen a single Pentecost decoration at Walmart, or any Pentecost candy on the shelves anywhere. When's the last time you bought someone a Pentecost gift or sent a Pentecost card? See what I mean.

Theologically, it is an important event in the Christian faith. Jesus promised the Holy Spirit, and on that day in Jerusalem, fifty days after the resurrection, he delivered. Flames, winds, people talking in languages they did not know, although to be fair, unlike the"prayer languages" modern Pentecostals get when someone lays hands on them, these languages reported in Acts chapter 2 were actual languages spoken by the variety of pilgrims having around Jerusalem at that time, and "each heard the Good News in her or his own tongue," as the scriptures say.

The Holy Spirit, Jesus said, would be a comforter, a helper, and would provide believers with the tools and juice to go out and do what they were supposed to go out and do--be witnesses to the Good News of Jesus Christ. She arrived with a wallop, kind of like March, but for much of the church, has become more of a lamb, like April. Most of the church does not practice the "sign gifts" of speaking in tongues, interpretation of tongues, and "prophecy," but generally, we don't know what to do with the Holy Spirit, hoping it is some kind of autopilot from God that guides us away from making too many goofs in Jesus' name. Occasionally, the Spirit pops an unusual moment of wisdom into the head of a Christian at an opportune time, and this is much celebrated when it happens.

Oh, I'm sure some of you are freaked at me calling the Holy Spirit a "she." Hear me out. First of all, orthodox Trinitarian doctrine reminds us that the Holy Spirit is a person of the godhead, and not a thing. Even I, a grassroots theologian with seven years of seminary learning occasionally slips and calls her an "it." Hold on to this thought for a moment. So, the Holy Spirit is a person. The Trinitarian formula is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Bible says that God is Spirit. Jesus was clearly male, as he sojourned among us, but if we're all made in the "image" of God, then why can we not view the Holy Spirit as a she? The Hebrew and Greek words for Spirit are both feminine nouns, by the way. I like the female view of the Holy Spirit--a quiet, strong power that transforms and blesses. At the risk of appearing sexist, this would be my description of the influential women in my life--quiet, strong, powerful, and transforming. I'm married to one who has absolutely transformed my life, and continues to do so, lovingly, gracefully, but not without the occasional tag-team match, which she always wins. Sometimes I just have to be wrestled to the mat.

Back to the erroneous "it-ness" of the Holy Spirit. I think we have trouble seeing the Spirit as a person because we have no images of her. The Bible only gives us flames, wind, and at Jesus' baptism, a bird, wafting down from heaven. None of those things are people. If we understand the Holy Spirit as the "femaleness" of God, we can come up with our own images--think of the woman who has had the most profound impact on your life, and fix that image in your head for the Holy Spirit.

Speaking of stepchildren, the Holy Spirit herself is often the stepchild of the Trinity, for the reasons listed above--no "image" that is "person-able," a poor understanding among the majority of Christians as to what her function is, and I would add, the strong paternalistic bent of the faith often leavers her in the lurch. Rarely do you hear a Christian pray beyond "Father God," or "Dear Jesus." When's the last time you heard a prayer that began, "Dear Mother Spirit"?

So, what all does the Holy Spirit do? The Bible tells us in Corinthians that the Spirit gives various gifts to God's people. These gifts are really tools for doing ministry for the up-building of the Body of Christ, and for sharing the Good News of the Christian Gospel. The Holy Spirit as comforter is when God's presence soothes and "hugs" us in times of trial or tragedy. The Holy Spirit empowers us to do what God calls us to do, both as laity and clergy. "Go(ing) into all the world and preaching the Gospel, baptizing in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" is beyond our human abilities without the "juice" of the Holy Spirit. Without relying on this empowerment of the Spirit, we are left naked and running away, like the Sons of Sceva in Acts 19.

Here's another image to ponder: medical science recently identified another organ in the body called the "Interstitium. It is the tissue in and around the other organs of our body that cushions them, keeps them "interconnected," and is the medium for important body fluids, feeding cells. "Interstitial" tissue has been understood for a long time, I guess, but the recent classification of it as an organ comes from research that shows it working collectively and "in concert" in the body. So, can we suggest that the Holy Spirit is the Interstitium of the Body of Christ? An interesting "functional" idea, however it breaks down again when trying to visualize the Holy Spirit as a person. Oh well...

So, with Pentecost up next, my challenge to you is to ponder the Holy Spirit as a person of the godhead, and a female one, at that! Then, try to imagine how the Holy Spirit works in your Christian experience, personally. Finally, look around and observe how you see the Spirit working in the church. That's all a pretty tall order for now, so have at it. May the Force be with you. NO, NO, NO, the "Force" is a thing, not a person, and it likes to fight a lot! It's great in the movies, but not in the church--the last thing we need is more fighting! How about we just say Shalom?

Stations...

It's called the Via Dolorosa, or "way of sorrow," and is, in popular Christian lore, the path Jesus took, carrying his cross to Golgotha, the site of his crucifixion. Fourteen "Stations of the Cross" have evolved over the years, some from moments along that journey as described in scripture, some from legends or myths that sprung up in the early years of the church. In preparing for Good Friday, I thought it might be interesting to briefly ponder the Stations...





1. Pilate Condemns Jesus to die.

Two thousand-plus years ago, and politics still played a part in the trial of Jesus the Christ. Pilate was out to keep his job, and that meant making the mob happy (his base, I guess you'd say). While Pilate saw no reason to convict Jesus, he eventually gave him over to the mob for the carrying out of the capital punishment form of the day, death by being nailed to a cross of wood. There is a temptation to give Pilate a bye because he, personally, doesn't see Jesus as a criminal. However, regardless of what he personally believed, he went with his base to spare his own neck, and Jesus was sentenced to die. I guess there are three things that never change: death, taxes, and politicians.

2. Jesus accepts his cross.

An old hymn says, "He could have called 10,000 angels, but he died alone for you and me." He probably could have, and I'll bet more than 10,000 would have showed up. From what we read of angels in the Bible, one would have been sufficient, with the flaming swords, shouts that paralyzed crowds of people, and the like. But Jesus took the cross. He'd already had that "come to Jesus' Father" meeting in Gethsemane, where he tried to pass the cup, but his resolve was set by the time he left the garden. We can argue all day about what the cross means, but the Bible and the witness of the church is clear that without the cross there is no redemption. I'm not a "blood atonement" theologian, as Jesus seems to parallel himself with the Paschal lamb, which was the lamb of freedom and deliverance, and not atonement, and the cross is clearly about delivering humanity from its sin, but from much, much more--things like mob rule, standing up for my "rights" (with God, all things are privileges), and believing that some people are better in God's eyes than others.

3. Jesus falls for the first time.

The cross was heavy, and Jesus had been scourged, which was about the nastiest beating a person could have. My guess is that the weight of the cross was infinite, because the slavery from which humanity needed to be delivered and set free was cumulative over the whole of history. When it was on Jesus' shoulders, he made Atlas look like a wuss. Under that weight and in such a weakened state, is it any wonder that Jesus fell? Maybe the first fall can be seen as standing for the fall of humanity in the earlier garden mentioned in the Bible.

4. Jesus meets his mother, Mary.

We never really know what Mary knew, beyond what the angel told her when she became "with child," that Jesus would "save his people from their sins." What did that mean? Would he be the kind of conquering king "messiah" that would overthrow the Romans? (Judas and the other Zealots sure hoped so.) Or would he be a great teacher who would lure everyone into obedience to the Torah? I'm guessing she hadn't figured on him getting beaten to a pulp, sentenced by a kangaroo court presided over by a stooge politician, and then spindled to a cross in front of Pilate's political base. It must have been shocking for her to see him laboring along that path, which, by the way, is very narrow and usually jammed shoulder to shoulder with people, even today.

5. Simon helps carry the cross.

Simon sounds like a compassionate guy. Or was he just afraid that maybe some of the stuff Jesus said about being the "Son of Man" might be true, and he was just hedging his bets? I'd give Simon the benefit of the doubt--that he had a big heart. But then our current president's White House physician, the one who gave him an overly glowing, patronizing, puffed-up, and unprofessionally prophetic medical report--was just made Secretary of Veterans Affairs, so who knows? Maybe helping Jesus carry his cross was Simon's way of getting to sit at his right hand in the Kingdom of God, and if so, it was probably a much better ploy than the argument that the "Sons of Thunder" had around the dinner table.

6. Veronica wipes the face of Jesus.

This is one of the not-very-scriptural stories that has been passed down. However, I'm sure that since women were attracted to Jesus, one would have stepped out of the crowd to wipe his brow as he fought the cross. Now, when I say "attracted," I am not suggesting that it was physical, as Isaiah's prophecy of the Messiah says that he would be "nothing to look at." He did speak as one having a quiet, yet genuine authority, wasn't a bully, and never--even once--acted superior to women. If anything, he was the first historical figure to totally get them, to speak publicly with them, and to praise their faith. He seemed to have much more patience with women than he did with men, and who can blame him? Even in his day, testosterone was a rabid problem. He always seemed to relaxed around women, except that time when he got torqued at his Mom for rushing him into the wine-making game.

7. Jesus falls for the second time.

I'll bet this second fall is symbolic of the second fall the Jerusalem Temple would soon take, and that being itself symbolic of the fall of the institutional religion that much of Judaism had become. God seems to be a glutton for punishment when it comes to time-and-time again putting trust into human religious institutions. We "religious types" are constantly dogmatizing stuff that Jesus handed out gracefully to all, and drawing lines that God refuses to honor. When Jesus said the gates of Hell would not prevail against the church, was he fearing that human religious leaders were a bigger threat  to it than even Satan? Satan is small potatoes, compared to what we've done with the institutions of faith down through the ages--the Crusades, Calvin having the head of Michael Servetus lopped off, religious terrorists, slavery and "separate but equal" sanctuaries, the unruly mob labeled evangelicals today. If this second fall was for Jesus' fears for what we'd make of things, it's amazing that he got back up at all.

8. Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem.

See Station 6 above. Women definitely come out on top in this Station story, and in the life of Jesus. I think the women came because, unlike most of the men, they got Jesus. In him they saw their full acceptance, inclusion, and liberation. After all, he had a hand in creating them, and they weren't made just to be baby incubators and sexual playthings. They were children of God equal to any man, and superior to most. In Jesus, they got their just due.

9. Jesus falls for the third time.

Third time's the charm. After this stumble, it was on to the cross and then to Hell to release the captives--and the rest of us! This third fall could stand for the pinning of Satan to the mat, or for the last gasp of the enslaving power of sin, selfishness, and worldly power. Jesus wrestled them all to the mat. Game over.

10. Jesus is stripped of his clothes.

He was going to leave this life the way he came. Ultimately, we all do, even though we may be laid out in our Sunday best. That the soldiers gambled for his garments is another sign of human disdain for people who wield gentle power. Testosterone on parade. Of course, the next time these guys see Jesus, he'll be wearing different togs and ready to pull rank on the robe-robbers. (Nope, that's just me wanting him to get even--I'll bet he'll welcome them in grace and love, too!)

11. Jesus is nailed to the cross.

Hammer time. I read a story once about the custom of the debtors' prisons of Jesus' time. When someone was guilty of a debt they could not pay, they would be thrown into a prison cell, and a piece of parchment with the amount of their debt was nailed to the wooden door of the cell. If someone paid the debt for the poor guy, at some point, another piece of parchment with the Greek word tetelestai was nailed over the debt document, and the man was set free. Tetelestai is the word Jesus yelled from the cross: "It is finished," or literally, "Paid in Full!" Cool, huh?

12. Jesus dies on the cross.

Can God really die? Jurgen Moltmann thought so. That was God on the cross, he argued in his landmark book, The Crucified God. Elie Wiesel, the late Nobel Prize winning author and survivor of the Holocaust, told of a time when his group of prisoners was being ushered to dinner, and as they passed a gallows, a small Jewish boy about twelve years old, was writhing from a rope, having been hanged for disobeying a German soldier. As they passed the dying boy, Wiesel thought to himself, "Where is God now?" He would later write that, at that very moment, he heard a still, small voice whisper in his mind, "I'm right up here, hanging with this boy." Wiesel said that his faith was forever altered by this moment. So is ours, when Jesus shoulders the weight of the world's sin and gives up his spirit.

13. Jesus is taken down from the cross.

They could have left him up there, that mob and those soldiers, for his body to bake in the sun, and to be devoured by vultures, or something. Maybe it was the intentionality with which he died? Maybe it was one of those "seven last words" that got them--"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Whatever, they took Jesus' body down, and because he was homeless and poor, they gave his body to those who asked for it, the women and the remnant of the disciples. "They cut me down and I leaped up high, I am the life that will never, never die! I'll live in you if you'll live in me, I am the Lord of the Dance said he!" Shall we dance?

14. Jesus is placed in the tomb.

A tomb could not hold Jesus any more than a jar can hold sunlight. According to the great tradition of the church, Jesus made a few "visits" during the days in that tomb, releasing captives and preparing for a new "glorified" body that has all of the benefits of the one we have, only without the ravages of sin, disease, or the limits of temporal existence. Kind of cosmic stuff. That's why the writer of I John writes, "Beloved, we are children of God, and it does not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." (I John 3:2) Tombs are holding tanks for eternal transformation--cocoons, as it were. For Jesus, the tomb was the affirmation of both a death (he really died--he didn't just "swoon," as some skeptics would later say) and a launching pad for new life. The cross is the symbol Christians wear because it was where Jesus was "stapled" to humanity for all eternity, that we may be freed and redeemed, but the empty tomb is what differentiates us from other theological constructs of how God and people relate. "Up from the grave he arose!" (Yeah, I know that the Stations of the Cross end on Good Friday, but since we are the Post-Resurrection Community, it's really hard to not move on to the "Fifteenth Station," the Risen Jesus!)