Acton University

I have spent the week at Acton University in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The Acton Institute, founded by Fr. Robert Sirico, is an organization that exists “for the study of religion and freedom.” While I am no libertarian by contemporary definition, I believe that Acton engages scholars of every ilk on important matters facing the church in the 21st century.

Of the many topics covered this week, I have been most compelled by calls to revisit and refine my thoughts about the dignity and worth of every individual, made in God’s image, for God’s glory and purposes. It is easy to dismiss those who are marginalized, particularly in a city like New York where I live, based on one’s busy schedule or (frankly) apathy. I am encouraged to think more critically about the urban poor and how to work to release the oppressed from their plight of injustice.

I am increasingly aware of differing philosophies to achieve the aforementioned goal—all based on Christian thought, Christian logic, and a thorough reading of the scriptures. My personal goal over the next month is to reconsider the Shema (Deut. 6: love God, love others) and prevailing social policy in an effort to begin a conversation among my friends and colleagues aimed at bringing Christ-like effectiveness to this profound social problem.

May God bless our best efforts.

Go and Do Likewise

Luke 10:25-37                         

²⁵Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” ²⁶He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” ²⁷He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” ²⁸And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” ²⁹But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” ³⁰Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. ³¹Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. ³²So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. ³³But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. ³⁴He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. ³⁵The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ ³⁶Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” ³⁷He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

———– 

I love that this story (and its interpretations over 2000 years) have as many twists and turns as the road from Jerusalem to Jericho itself.  The cast of characters is unique enough including a smarty-pants lawyer with an attitude, a savior who will not be rebuffed, two church officials (a preacher and a minister of music, don’t you know) who ignore a social problem, a Samaritan with a servant’s heart and a checkbook, and a dying man—a victim—lying lame on the side of the road.  When you add the scandal of circumstance and the irony that the least-likely rescuer is, indeed, the one who gives aid you get quite the sordid tale. 

Let’s start with the smug lawyer.  He trades questions with Jesus, perhaps looking to trip the savior up, and after establishing that the greatest commandments from the law are to love God and to love others, he throws a zinger that he thinks will get Jesus frustrated.  But Jesus answers the hard question like he always does:  with a parable.

Jesus tells of a downhill journey on the treacherous road between Jerusalem and Jericho.  There’s lots of room for trouble on that road.  It winds its way steeply downhill and curves abound.  It’s the perfect place for an ambush.  On the day that Jesus describes, a man is beaten, robbed, and left for dead.  Probably not an unusual occurrence. 

Three folks come by, the first two, as the story says, “pass by on the other side.”  These two are men of God, a priest and a Levite.  We’re left to speculate as to why the men didn’t stop to help.  Jesus doesn’t say anything about them.  Maybe stopping would make them late for their gathering in the synagogue.  Maybe they were afraid that touching the man would render them unclean and therefore unfit for temple worship.  These ideas are perhaps invalidated by the fact that, if the men were going “down” then they were, in fact, traveling away from Jerusalem and they’d already been to temple that day. 

Maybe they considered that the man himself might be a thief lying in wait for a good-natured soul of whom he might take advantage.  This road was known as a “Bloody Pass,” after all.  Martin Luther King, Jr. once speculated that the men may have been in a hurry to get to their destination so that they could organize a “Jericho Road Improvement Association.”  King said, “Maybe they felt it was better to deal with the problem from the causal root, rather than to get bogged down with an individual effect.”  Whatever the case, or whatever their excuse, the holy men didn’t stop, they didn’t help, and the man was left to suffer and die alone. 

And then, someone did stop.  He was a foreigner.  He was someone who was unwelcomed because of his race, his background, and his upbringing.  He was a man of Samaria.  Anyone who witnessed the Samaritan approaching the dying man might think that the Samaritan’s intention was to finish the man off—such was the hate between the two peoples. 

However, in the midst of all that hate and all that unjust logic emerged a kind of love and compassion that’s hard to imagine—even among us learned modern Christians.  The passage says that the Samaritan “was moved with pity” and rightfully so. 

What the Samaritan saw lying there wasn’t just a man who’d been beaten up and had his valuables taken away.  No, no.  It was worse than that.  The man had been stripped.  Humiliated.  His nakedness was an insult to already conceived injury.  Artist depictions of this event show the man strewn upon the back of the strong animal that traveled with the Samaritan, the victim’s exposed body and injury laid bare.

We’re told that the Samaritan bandaged the man’s wounds.  That he used antiseptics and healing oils.  That he, simply, took care of the man, spending his own money on medicines and lodging for this stranger.  The next day, he saw to the man’s ongoing care and left money for that purpose.  And, as if he hadn’t already done quite enough, he promised to come back to do even more at a time not too far in the future.  Sounds a bit familiar, doesn’t it? 

And at the end of this story, we’re left with the question that Jesus asked the lawyer.  Which one of the passersby demonstrated neighborly behavior to the man on the side of the road?  Well, the lawyer answers correctly, saying, “The one who showed him mercy.”  And Jesus says to the lawyer, and to us, “go and do likewise.”

Perhaps on the day in question, the others who passed by had tucked in the back of their heads a key question that anyone traveling along the Jericho Road that day might have asked.  It’s the question I used to ask when I’d pass by homeless people when I lived in New York. It’s the question that Martin Luther King, Jr. posed in his sermon almost fifty years ago.  “If I stop to help this man what is likely to happen to me?”  However, the Samaritan man was willing to consider, “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”

What’s special, what’s unique, what’s refreshing about this man—this Samaritan man—is that he was willing to stop alongside a dangerous road—a road with curves and bumps, thieves and robbers—and risk his own safety for the benefit of another.  And Jesus says, “Go and do likewise.”  Amen.

MicahBlog Vol 1.5. Copyright 2010, Micah Ministries. All Rights Reserved.

Yelling Font

Galatians 6:1-18

My friends, if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness. Take care that you yourselves are not tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. For if those who are nothing think they are something, they deceive themselves. All must test their own work; then that work, rather than their neighbor’s work, will become a cause for pride. For all must carry their own loads. Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher. Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for you reap whatever you sow. If you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption from the flesh; but if you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life from the Spirit. So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest-time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith. SEE WHAT LARGE LETTERS I MAKE WHEN I AM WRITING IN MY OWN HAND! It is those who want to make a good showing in the flesh that try to compel you to be circumcised—only that they may not be persecuted for the cross of Christ. Even the circumcised do not themselves obey the law, but they want you to be circumcised so that they may boast about your flesh. May I never boast of anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything! As for those who will follow this rule—peace be upon them, and mercy, and upon the Israel of God. From now on, let no one make trouble for me; for I carry the marks of Jesus branded on my body. May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, brothers and sisters. Amen.
——-
This passage of scripture concludes Paul’s letter to the Galatians and is chock full of morsels that should make us sit up and take notice. The verses contain many of the proverbial adages we hear (and perhaps quote) often; however, we’re never quite sure where those phrases originated and we cannot be 100% positive that they appear in the Bible at all. But here they are tucked away at the end of Galatians.

When we unpack this heavy suitcase of wisdom we find before us some terrific lessons of Christian faith.

First, if someone does something wrong, gently work to help that person get back on the correct path.

Second, when working with that person to restore their relationship with God, be careful that you yourself don’t fall into the same sin.

Third, take on another’s burden so that they don’t have to walk a difficult path alone.

Fourth, don’t think more highly of yourself than you ought.

Fifth, be responsible for the work you do and rejoice in it and all good things, rather than criticizing the work of a neighbor.

Sixth, you reap what you sow so do what is good and right (though it may be tiring) because in the end it will all be worth it.

Seventh, always do work that is beneficial to all—and especially that which is beneficial to the family of faith.

Finally, boast not in things of the flesh, rather in the Christ whom God sent to atone for our sin. Because we are in him, we are a New Creation, no longer subject to the law for justification but instead reconciled to God because of our relationship with Christ.

As you may notice, there is a lot going on here in eighteen short verses. The passage makes up one chapter in the book of Galatians and it doesn’t even fill one page in a Bible of average size. However, Paul uses these final verses to summarize his thoughts and to give exacted meaning to the truth of the gospel and the reality of the one true hope in Christ.

Everything fits nicely in the bag; however, the items are heavy and, if Paul were trying to board a plane with this luggage, he may very well be charged for extra weight.

And in the midst of it all, right in the middle of the passage, we find an emphatic message that, I admit, has always given me pause and a bit of a chuckle. It says, “See what large letters I make when I am writing in my own hand!” I…LOVE…IT…!

When one studies the significance of this passage, he finds various perspectives on what it means. Why was Paul writing in his own hand? Well, doing so gave him creative license along the way, some scholars say, to expound upon those things that needed additional explanation; and secondly, a letter written in the familiar handwriting of Paul authenticates the message. Indeed, the letter was from Paul himself.

However, more intriguing is that Paul writes using large letters. I found three reasons why Paul wrote using large letters—theories by scholars, don’t you know. One was that Paul’s hands were “disfigured from toil” and he was only, therefore, capable of writing with large swoops of his quill. Another was that Paul’s eyesight was failing him in old age and that he wrote so that he could read his own writing without struggle.

However, the one purpose that stands out to me and, no doubt, the very reason why those large letters were used by Paul, was that he was seeking to emphasize the message. In this chapter, Paul is reiterating the points that he’d been making throughout the letter to the Galatians. Paul wanted to impress upon them the truth of his words so that they could live lives worthy of the high calling of Christ that was their very own.

So, for emphasis, Paul uses what we folks who communicate via email call “Yelling Font.” Large letters, bold type, all caps, and underlined. And it is in that manner that Paul summarizes his thoughts without a doubt.

Modern minds take away from this book the message well summarized by Bruce Epperly:

“Galatians invites the reader to open to God’s new creation. While God moves through our rituals and practices, we are saved and healed by opening to God’s transformation rather than living by legalism. Our efforts and ethics are important, but undergirding everything is God’s innovative and transformative grace. In times of struggle, we need more than ritual and law; we need ‘new creation’ that breathes life into our rituals and policies.”

As 2 Corinthians, chapter five, says, “17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, that person is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 18 All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: 19 that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting sins of humankind against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.”

For that, we are bold to say, Thanks be to God! Amen.

MicahBlog Vol 1.4. Copyright 2010, Micah Ministries. All Rights Reserved.

Discipline

Galatians 3:23-29

Now before faith came, we were imprisoned and guarded under the law until faith would be revealed. ²⁴Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be justified by faith. ²⁵But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian, ²⁶for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. ²⁷As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. ²⁸There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. ²⁹And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.

———-

A few weeks ago when I was studying to preach this passage of scripture, I started thinking about the term “discipline” and what that term means to modern ears over what that term meant to the Galatians who were reading Paul’s words to that early church body.  When our modern ears hear “discipline,” for the most part we think correction–as a father might discipline a child who has done something that is against her best interest.  We might also be tempted to dredge up adages that we incorrectly quote from scripture, such as “Spare the rod, spoil the child” as an example of the necessity of disciplining a younger person.  In fact, that passage found in Proverbs 13:24 says something a bit different.  It reads, “He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him.”  When I see that passage, it brings me to a happy sort of place where I’m pleased to understand better what that sort of discipline (and that found in our passage from Galatians) really means. 

Image for a moment that you are not listening with modern ears. Instead, you are hearing an ancient discourse that includes the Greek word for “pedagogy.”  Now there’s a twist in perspective.  Pedagogy, the science of teaching or instruction.  Wow.  So “He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to TEACH him.” 

And, for our purposes when reading the Galatians passage, the LAW was something that we STUDIED, that we were TAUGHT.  It was something that we invested in for our betterment and (in this case) for the betterment of the Kingdom of God before there was made a better way. 

That way is Christ. 

And the passage says that when Christ came, having a disciplinarian became absolutely unnecessary.  Instead of being required to keep the law (which was impossible) and having to offer sacrifices and burnt offerings to atone for the fact that it is impossible to keep the law, we now have a new teacher, a savior, and we are justified not by what we do but by FAITH in the person and work of Jesus Christ.

This magnificent truth turns the whole faith/works discussion on its ear.  For so long it was what one did, how one behaved, who one associated with that showed who the truly pious and holy were.  But finally, there was Jesus, the promised Messiah, and instead of works being the sign of faith, now faith served as a springboard for a well of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control that defines the believer’s life in the Spirit.  It is no longer that works leads to faith–now, faith is the reason behind every work. 

And it is in that very context that we come to understand who we moderns are and where we stand in the eyes of Almighty God…who offered up the way of salvation to an undeserving people by giving the ultimate sacrificial lamb, Jesus, who atoned for our sins that we might enjoy a life filled with peace and an eternity of joy in his presence.  God made the way so that through relationship with Christ we have relationship with God irrevocably and forevermore. 

So today, we are bold to proclaim, “I am crucified with Christ therefore I no longer live…Jesus Christ now lives in me.” And we are wise to cling to the promise found in Romans 8, which says, “There is, therefore, now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.  For the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death.” 

That, my friends, is the brand of discipline from which we all can learn.   Amen.

MicahBlog Vol 1.3. Copyright 2010, Micah Ministries. All Rights Reserved.

Suffering Servants

(This article originally appeared as a pastoral resource at www.helwys.com/worship)

James 5:13-20

As a pastoral care giver, I have encountered the sufferings of many patients and parishioners through the years. Many of them ask, “Why me?” Others respond indifferently and resigned, “What are you gonna do?” Precious few respond with a hopeful expression, and when they do, it is a breath of fresh air, “I’m just grateful to God for sustaining me.”

Each time I study a passage of scripture like this one from James, I am persuaded to share a story that I tell often about a beautiful Saint of God I know whom we call “Granny.” When Granny was young her husband abused and abandoned her, leaving her to parent four children as a single mom in the 1960s. One of her sons suffered a terrible illness and died a painful death in the early 1990s. Another son is mentally disabled and has required both inpatient and outpatient treatment over forty years of life. A third son left home early and only visits from time to time as his schedule permits. Granny’s second husband (a man we all call “The Saint”) now suffers with Alzheimer’s disease. Granny also endured the brutal murder of a grandchild that she had raised as her own.

Through the years, Granny has experienced a few graces along the way and she clings to those events as gifts from God. She is thankful, even for her tragedies, and when asked how she’s been able to deal with the many problems she’s faced, she replies simply, “I am grateful to God for sustaining me. I just can’t help but serve him.” And she does just that. Granny is always the first to volunteer to lend a helping hand around the church, to pray with those who are discouraged, and to open her home to “anyone who needs a granny.” She understands that, without her faith, she would have no hope–and her hope has been her one saving grace through it all.

Like Granny’s, my own evangelical faith tradition teaches, simply, that humankind suffers because of sin. At the end of the day, our faith in Christ carries us through the trying times and allows us perspective. Suffering reminds us of our humanity, that we are nothing without God, and allows us the opportunity to either choose to become enraged and bitter over our circumstances or to be comforted by the power of the Holy Spirit, our gift from God.

Many theologians in our tradition have left us to believe that it is inappropriate to do anything other than to rejoice in our sufferings. This has left many feeling frustrated, thinking that the teachings of Christian faith don’t render them well-enough equipped to handle the struggles they face. Because of this, people of faith often will not admit that they’re in a dark time because they feel like those around them expect that they can rely wholly on the promise of hope in Christ, and that surely cannot be improved upon by any word of encouragement by a human. Some also fear that such an admission will show weakness or an extreme lack of faith; and sometimes they even fail to tell God that they’re angry or hurt or frustrated, because it’s simply not appropriate to question the Almighty.

Thankfully, others in the tradition have taken a more grace-filled approach to teaching about suffering and what our Christian response to others who are suffering should be. In his book, Disappointment with God, Philip Yancey teaches us that,

You can say anything to God. Throw at him your grief, your anger, your doubt, your bitterness, your betrayal, your disappointment–he can absorb them all. As often as not, spiritual giants of the Bible are shown contending with God. They prefer to go away limping…rather than to shut God out. In this respect, the Bible prefigures a tenet of modern psychology: you can’t really deny your feelings or make them disappear, so you might as well express them. God can deal with every human response save one. He cannot abide the response [we often] fall back on instinctively: an attempt to ignore him or treat him as though he does not exist. (Philip Yancey, Disappointment with God (Zondervan, 1992), 263).
One of the more prominent voices of evangelicalism in contemporary society is former White House aide, Chuck Colson, known for his conservative punditry. In a recent article, Colson admitted that he has learned from evangelical faith what it means for someone to enter in to relationship with Christ and what a difference that close encounter can make; however, last year he went through a series of events during which he experienced God as distant. In his quest to find the intimate God he’d known in the past, Colson started reading Christian mystics such as Teresa of Avila and early evangelical leaders represented in the writings of Puritans and (later) Spurgeon.

He found that, to these scholars, the best growth comes when folks “are without consolation and must walk into the darkness with complete abandon” (Charles Colson and Anne Morse, “My Souls Dark Night” in Christianity Today (December 2005), 80). He took this as a challenge to approach God in ways he had never been required to. Colson found that we people of faith want desperately to rely on “easy answers, cheerful tunes, and happy smiles.” However, he learned that we must dig deeply to find what it is like to encounter God, to contend with God, to worship God, in the midst of our circumstances–both good and bad–in order to learn to communicate with God completely and to trust him in all things.

When Jesus was born, his family suffered what has been called “the consequences of Herod’s fear and malice” when they were forced into exile by the tyrant. Through the years, many of Harvey Cox’s students at Harvard have identified very closely with this exilic lifestyle and have shared how they suffered at the hands of corrupt government and fled their respective homelands to seek asylum in the United States.

Cox reports that one such West African student wrote a term paper entitled “Jesus as a Refugee,” after he was drawn to the story of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus “in light of his own family’s hasty and harrowing flight from a country shredded by civil war, dictatorship, and mayhem” (Harvey Cox, When Jesus Came to Harvard: Making Moral Choices Today (Houghton-Mifflin, 2004), 82).

Another of Cox’s students once asked him if he thought Jesus suffered “survivor guilt” later in life when he learned about the many children that died because of Herod’s pursuit of the Christ child. Cox answered that perhaps Jesus had reflected on this, “and that maybe it contributed to his unusual capacity for sympathizing with the suffering of others” (Cox, 81).

As I considered this, I thought about my own circumstances, my own nagging health issues, my own frustrations. I thought about Granny and other saints of the world who endure hardship only to proclaim louder the message of Christ and his promise of deliverance. Surely, as Cox asserts, Jesus was better prepared for his earthly ministry because of the lessons he learned as he was growing up.

This only confirms my belief that, while I do not and cannot understand the suffering in the world, I can have complete hope in the fact that I serve a savior who knew the sins of humankind first-hand.

He understands suffering because he suffered and he offers power over death because he conquered death.

He is the friend who takes us by the hand and guides us when our eyesight is failing.

He is the great, majestic creator who reigns forever and reveals pieces of the big picture, “snapshots of grace,” along the way.

He is the great encourager and the one who offers consolation.

Because of that fact, the people of God can proclaim boldly the message found in 2 Corinthians, chapter one:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ. If we are being afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation; if we are being consoled, it is for your consolation, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we are also suffering. Our hope for you is unshaken; for we know that as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our consolation. Amen. (2 Corinthians 1:3-7)

MicahBlog Vol 1.2. Copyright 2009, Micah Ministries. All Rights Reserved.
09/21/09

Wednesday Words

Last week, I read an article in Christianity Today in which author D.H. Williams commented on the book The Life of Moses by fourth-century theologian Gregory of Nyssa. In the article, Williams argues that Gregory’s greatest contribution to Christian theology is his assertion that one never truly arrives at a complete comprehension of God, rather “that true satisfaction of the soul’s desire consists in constantly going on with this quest and never ceasing in the ascent to God.” This gentle truth is frustrating to some people and gives great hope to others. The former say, “If I can never achieve the oneness with God that I am seeking then why should I even try?” while the latter consider it an invitation to deeper intimacy with God. One sees God as inaccessible; the other paints God in shades of color yet to be seen.

The otherness of God, the deep mystery that is inherent in God’s nature, should never confuse or distract us from seeking him. Instead, it should inspire us to dig deeper and reach higher as we explore the endless bounds of his goodness. We are called to pursue God, taking note of his love for us and striving to be more like him each day. We were formed in his image and we are his reflection through Jesus.

One way we pursue God—influenced by his Son, and guided by the Spirit—is by communing with him and with other believers at the Table. It is through the Eucharist that we are reminded of the Christian story—our story—and are again made aware of the great sacrifice made for the sin of humankind. While we are unable to reach the heights and depths of understanding we desire, we are nevertheless able to experience God and his presence through the mystery of the bread and wine consecrated for the people of God.

It is for this reason that the late Bob Webber once counseled his students, “Flee to the Eucharist.” No matter one’s station in life, the loneliness one may feel, the burden that one carries, or the confusion that one may be experience, the gift of the Eucharist is ours so that we may fellowship with God in a way that is both familiar to us and beautifully mysterious.

The process of spiritual formation is just that—a process. It is not a destination, rather a journey with both familiar and unfamiliar stops along the way. Little by little, our eyes are opened and we are able to see a bit more of the glory that is God. Consequently, “all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

May we all long to be Shaped in the Image of God…

MicahBlog Vol 1.1. Copyright 2009, Micah Ministries. All Rights Reserved.
09/09/09