Wrong

Did you know that it's okay to be wrong? I know being wrong doesn't feel very good, but it also presents an opportunity to learn something. It's said that we learn from our mistakes, but I think we learn more from correcting our mistakes.

Not one person in this world can be right all of the time. It's impossible. We are not able to think beyond our capacity. But that doesn't mean we can't learn and grow in what was learned and/or discovered. It's too much pressure to have to be right all of the time.

And if someone should point out that you were incorrect in something, it's not a disaster. Be wrong! I occasionally receive disagreements from something I preached or said or did (or didn't do). I used to take such disagreements personally, as if they were attacks on my character. They may or may not have been. But it really doesn't matter because I don't truly know the motive behind the disagreement and it makes no sense to try to guess.

So, here's what I've learned to do when someone disagrees with me:
1) Listen to what the person is saying beyond just the words. He/she just may have your well-being in mind.
2) Don't assume that the person is attacking. It might come off that way, but assumptions are more often unrealistic than they are spot on.
3) Consider that the critic just might be right. It takes great humility to do this.
4) Don't jump right into solving the disagreement. Study the issue with the person. You may just start to build some comraderie. And take your time! Rome wasn't built in a day.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not very good at this. I guess that means I'm hypocritical. But it's even okay to be hypocritical as well!

Legalism

I always used to think that the term legalism, theologically speaking, meant to try to earn one's salvation by merit of one's works or by keeping the law of God. But now I've realized that that is merely what results from legalism. Legalism actually means paying close attention to the minutae of the sacred text in order to ascertain how God desires people to live life. It pays very little attention to the sweep of the Scriptural narrative and the historical contexts out of which the narrative derives.

In that case, much of Christianity today is heavily legalistic, as seen in the attempts and the desires of people to make Scripture applicable to everyday life. People search for Biblical "principles" and the like, believing that adherence to such principles will take the edge off of a harrowing and meaningless existence, or at least placate the wrath of God. What occurs is actually the opposite of what is intended. People become more harried and frustrated while blaming it all on God, who is supposed to be lightening the load.

I've posed this question before and I'll pose it here once more, with a little added twist marked by italics:

Could it be that the Bible in a legalistic sense has no application to us whatsoever?

This is not to ask if Scripture is bereft of commands. Of course there are commands! That is painfully obvious. What is also obvious is the impossibility of obeying them. Legalism is the spurious attempt to make possible what is humanly impossible. Only Christ could obey the demands of the Law. And he did! But he wasn't a legalist. Those who opposed him were legalistic to the hilt!! That's why the life he lived and the death he died on the cross were so offensive to many. People would rather wallow in their legalisms than repent and follow Christ. We would rather feel important by gathering information from the pages of Scripture than saturating ourselves into the text in order to show due reverence to God for making us new and dwelling with us. This calls for a fresh reading of the Biblical text and for tuning out the voices of those who wish to foist "Biblical Principles" onto us.

"Follow Me," says Christ

There's no such thing as meeting Jesus halfway. Look at Matthew 4:18-25.

In my childhood I used to play with a kid down at the other end of the street. I would stay for a long time, sometimes disturbingly late. And then I heard the shout:

"DOUG!!!"

It was either my mom or dad yelling from the front porch. They knew where I was, but instead of walking to the other end of the street they would just shout my name and I would come running home for either dinner or a tongue lashing. Sometimes both. I guess it was easier for my parents to yell my name within earshot of the general public than to come and grab me by the scruff of my neck. Admittedly, I do the same thing to my kids.

I guess it would have been easier for Jesus to call his first disciples by yelling from a hilltop down to Peter and Andrew as they were fishing. But Jesus was not a shouter. He was a pursuer. He walked along the Sea and saw the two brothers and said, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of me." He did the same with James and John. All of them stopped what they were doing and followed Jesus.

Notice that Jesus never once in this whole episode shouted or raised his voice. He didn't have to. He walked down by the Sea. It was a personal encounter, unmistakeably real. With an actual human voice Jesus spoke into their ears. He didn't send smoke signals or beckon them by telepathy or semaphor. "Follow me!" says Christ the Lord.

Jesus never demanded that they meet him halfway. He was on the spot. They would either follow or go right back to fishing. I'm greatly amused when I hear people talking about finding Jesus, as if Jesus is playing hide-and-seek with us and we have to go looking for him. Jesus is present everywhere! But just because he's present doesn't necessarily mean he's visible. Is he ever visible? If so, where? Let's let Jesus tell us himself from what he revealed to us:

Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, "Take, eat; this is my body." And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, "Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.-- Matthew 26:26-28 (emphasis mine)

I was hungry... I was thirsty... I was a stranger... I was naked... I was sick... I was in prison... Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.-- Matthew 25:35-40 (emphasis mine)

All of these passages talk about the presence of Christ. None of them talk about his presence being in our thoughts or musings or spiritual adventures, but in visible and tangible means (bread, wine, broken humanity). The Word was made flesh and tabernacled among us, wrote John. He doesn't watch from a distance or shout out names to the winds. He comes to us and calls us to be his own. How?

The calling of Christ comes through what we call The Means of Grace, that is, Word and Sacrament. There's no speculating or guesswork involved here. These are the ways and means that God chose to spread His Spirit into our hearts and lives.

Scanning the Zohar-- Part 2

Dabbling in Kabbalah wasn't the only thing that I did in searching for some authentic spirituality. I did other things too numerous to mention, but they all had one thing in common-- do it yourself. If I was going to have a spiritual experience of untold bliss, then it was up to me to employ the methods suggested by the guru du jour, who turned out to be whoever I was reading at the time.

An aside-- not everything these authors wrote were bad or wrong. There was actually some very wise advice. But I made the mistake of thinking that these methods would get me closer to God, or at least understand God a bit better. They did no such thing. Only God can bring one closer to God. Just because a person feels good or appears to be philosophical or "spiritual" doesn't necessarily mean that he/she has a closer relationship with God than I do.

Here's what happened. In the library of my own church was a little book I decided to pick up and read. The book is called Spirituality of the Cross:The Way of the First Evangelicals by Gene Edward Veith. I was hesitant to read it at first because I associated Veith with a political element of the LCMS that I often disagree with from a tactical standpoint. But then I thought perhaps there may be some valuable insights in this little book. Much to my surprise Veith revealed that he had many of the same searchings and longings as I had and that he was quite the dabbler himself. He also had forays into mysticism and esotericism until he discovered a spirituality that has the audacity to claim that God did everything for us and drudgery isn't necessary. That spirituality is called Lutheranism.

I decided that it was time for me to go home, back to where the territory was familiar but in a sense untapped. I needed to explore the confession that I had embraced all of my life a bit deeper. And that is where I am today. I regret that all of this happened while I was a called and ordained minister in the LCMS. You would have thought that my seminary training in Fort Wayne would have taken care of any longings that I had. But I am indebted to Veith for his short, but simple, little primer on the way of the first Evangelicals.

Scanning the Zohar

A few years ago I dabbled in a spiritual practice called "scanning the Zohar". In case you don't know what that is, The Zohar is the sacred text of Kabbalistic Spirituality. Kabbalists claim that one doesn't need to actually read the Zohar (which most people cannot accomplish since the text is in Hebrew). Merely scanning over the Hebrew characters contained in The Zohar would supposedly unlock spiritual powers effective enough to take the edge off of a painful existence. And that's what I wanted. So I gave it a shot. Before retiring for the evening I had my mini Zohar on the table next to my bed and I would just scan over the Hebrew letters from right to left.

How did I get into this? I read a book about Jesus called Rabbi Jesus by Bruce Chilton. In this so-called "biography" of the historical Jesus, Chilton makes the claim that Jesus was a practitioner of Kabbalah, even going so far as saying that Jesus frequently engaged in merkavah (the throne-chariot of God) meditation. Jesus was therefore a mystic, you see. Chilton's book wasn't the only one that got my on a mystical path. Another one that was very influential in my thinking was The Holy Longing by Ronald Rohlheiser. I remember distinctly from this book that Christian spirituality in the new millennium must include becoming a mystic.

Well, if Jesus was a kabbalist, then what would it hurt if I became one? So I started to investigate what Kabbalah was all about and found out about a place called The Kabbalah Centre. Their goal is to make the spiritual wisdom found in quite complicated kabbalistic thought and systems accessible to the everyday, common person. I was fascinated by the experiences of the various founders and practitioners of this spiritual "technology" and decided that this might be a spiritual path that "works" for me.

So, I did as I was taught. I scanned The Zohar. I even tried Merkavah Meditation, as much as I could understand. It was peaceful, I guess. But then something happened:

Life! However, I was so wrapped up in myself and my "practice" that my urge to escape life became more powerful than ever. I was trying to find a way out of my earlier escapism, and I really thought this would be the way. But I found myself becoming more distant, aloof, and anxious than I was before. I wanted to have an "experience" so badly that I would try and try and try and read and read and read until I could finally have some peace with myself and the world around me. But I found that everyday life was something "in the way". So I hid myself in my own little world even further.

It might be claimed that I wasn't "doing it right", whatever "it" was. I needed a mentor, a spiritual guide, an advisor, a coach-- somebody to keep me on the right track. I never hired a mystical mentor because: a) I couldn't afford one, and b) what would I do when I was by myself again? I guess I could have gotten coaching over the phone or the internet. In any case, I could have been doing it incorrectly.

Well, excuse me!!!! I already had the feeling (sic) that I wasn't doing it right, which is why I was on the spiritual treadmill to begin with. And now I was being told that I had to work harder and be persistent. It started to become hair-raising. It became another dimension of life that was confusing and crazy. The irony here is impressive-- an anxiety-ridden pastor trying to rid himself of his anxiety by adding more anxiety to his life!

How did I get out of this? Next post. Stay tuned!!

Scripted Pastor

I find that I'm a more effective pastor when I don't rely on my own words or ingenuity. I'm daily confronted with the poverty of my own vocabulary. I'm not an eloquent, on-the-spot, speaker or thinker. I've tried to be, but it's very difficult for me and I get easily frustrated. For some people words come very naturally. Others, like me, well...let's just say I'm a better writer than talker.

It comes with the territory of pastoral ministry that I must speak. I think that's the expectation. But I'm finding that making things up on the spot confuses more people than helps them, at least in my case. I, for one, am glad that I don't have to invent and reinvent Sunday liturgy every week. The Lutheran heritage is rich in liturgical resources, most of which are found in the Lutheran Service Book. I am very grateful for this hymnal. Its language spans the centuries and includes, but transcends, every culture.

I'm also very grateful for the Pastoral Care Companion. Just this morning I had an emergency arise and needed to visit someone at the hospital. Having this resource was very helpful for me, as I was able to use it to bring comfort to a distressed parishioner by proclaiming the very presence of Christ in a very trying situation. It's not enough for me to say, matter of factly, "The Lord is here." There are much more effective ways of saying this that escape me in the moment. But when I can open up the Companion and extract meaningful prayer, Scripture passages, a brief order of service for Holy Communion, I discover that I minister with more confidence and assurance.

See, people like me need this kind of thing if they will take the title of "Reverend". When I'm at a loss for words, I know that I have words available that I can fall back and rely on: the very words of Scripture. There's nothing like it anywhere!

Epiphany Light-- Pt. 2

In the presence of Jesus one will either a) fall down and worship, or b) go on a rampage. The Magi did the former; King Herod did the latter.

Most of us wish we were like the Magi. The reality, however, is different. We're more like Herod. We consider ourselves to be so important and significant to the existence of all things. What would the world do without "me". What would happen if I were suddenly taken out of the picture? We fear the worst.

Here's the honest truth: you and I are not really that important. That's not meant to be an insult. But given today's cultural climate you would think that the meaning of life is our own rise to fame. We so much want others to notice and admire us. We're being taught to covet the undying admiration of the masses. Isn't everything we do all week done to impress people? Aren't even our attempts to disgust people designed to placate someone or drive people to submission?

The Magi understood the Scriptures and came to worship the Child. And they were outsiders! They came with treasures that showed they believed what Jesus came to do, and that is, he came to be a king who was to give up his life in limitless servanthood. Such servanthood can be offensive, especially if that servant is God. But to know and believe that the God of Israel accepts even the stargazing foreigner would have thrilled the Magi. It led them to worship.

That's what happens when we know that God would serve us by giving of Himself. We worship, not to placate, but to revere. That the God of the Universe would deign to humble Himself for the great benefit of the world leads to reverent response.

Epiphany Light

Star of the East, the horizon adorning;
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.

Light becomes a welcome sight when you're walking in darkness. The brightness of the light will guide you out to wide open spaces and clear your vision. In darkness you were blind. In the light you can see clearly.

The Magi (wise men) were probably from around the vicinity of modern day Iran. They were astrologers who studied the stars and determined the fates by them. Most likely, they had access to any sacred writings that had references to stars that marked significant events for various nations. So, when they read the words from Numbers 24:17b (a star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel) they searched the heavens for this star. It meant that a special king (marked by the word "scepter") had arrived. When they saw the star they went to Israel.

Of course the first place they would go would be Jerusalem, Israel's capital and holy city. Where else would the king of Israel be born?

So imagine these foreigners walking the streets of Jerusalem asking people, "Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him." The people of Jerusalem would be aghast and delighted at the same time! Except for King Herod. He was an Idumean (or Edomite-- a descendent of Esau, Jacob's twin brother). The Numbers 24 reference had more to say about this king:

Edom shall be dispossessed; Seir (Edom's capital) also, his enemies shall be dispossessed. Israel (Jacob) is doing valiantly. And one from Jacob shall exercise dominion and destroy the survivors of cities! (vv.18,19)

Herod must have been shaking in his boots. If this newborn child is "the one", Herod would have to quickly dispose of him in order to save his own neck.

The star proclaims the King is here;
But, Herod, why this senseless fear?
For He who offers heav'nly birth
Seeks not the kingdoms of this earth.
(Lutheran Service Book 399, v.1)

Why indeed! Herod chooses to remain in darkness. That's what happens when power goes straight to the head. In reality Herod had nothing to fear. He could have gone with the Magi to Bethlehem to behold and worship the infant King. But instead he sent the Magi to find Jesus for him in order to kill him. And just to make sure the job got done thoroughly he ordered a massacre. He asked the Magi when they first saw the star so that he would know how many little boys to kill.

Wouldn't you have loved to be one of the Magi? Honestly though, we're more like King Herod, so concerned about our status. You and I want to be kings and queens, and we will destroy, in one way or another, anyone who comes along and threatens our royal standing. This is darkness.

This blog entry is also too long. More some other time!