I get the question a lot this time of year: “If God loved the world so much, why is there suffering?” This is not one of my favorite questions. In fact, I know every time I hear it what the person is asking is often much more complex than the question's apparent simplicity might suggest. Sadly, people far too often jump to John 3:16 and give the promise of the Resurrection, but don’t really deal with the pains and struggles of this world.
The fact of our faith is that while we are looking towards the Resurrection and the life that is to come, we are firmly grounded in a world from which it is impossible to separate ourselves. Unfortunately, this means that suffering is part of life. This makes life hard because the gospels and Paul’s letters teach us that in our suffering we must keep our humility and connection to the hope of our Lord Jesus. For he gave us the charge that “. . . whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.” Often, in the times when we are at our weakest and allow for the spirit to work, we grow in our faith exponentially when we encounter the true difficult times of our lives, not false, manufactured ones. Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: There are so many experiences and disappointments that drive sensitive people toward nihilism and resignation. That is why it is so good to learn early that suffering and God are not contradictions, but rather a necessary unity. For me, the idea that it is really God who suffers has always been one of the most persuasive teachings of Christianity. I believe that God is closer to suffering than to happiness, and finding God in this way brings peace and repose and a strong, courageous heart.1 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran by training and member of the Confessing Church, an anti-Nazi church coalition/denomination, was an early 20th-century theologian and martyr. He wrote this personal note to a family, in a time when his society was at war and the Nazi government's persecutions of the people were intense. The question asked was probably one that is asked often today, "Where is God in the midst of the world we live in today?" Or, "If God offers peace, where is it?" This is a different perspective from pop theology, which tends to pick out the bits and pieces of faith that make the desired point, but in the midst of many stories, Old Testament and New, is struggle. Whether it is the fathers of the faith, the prophets, the disciples, or even Paul, the struggle and suffering is evident. But the promise and power of Christ is the hope and truth that the life of suffering and struggle of this world is based in this world and we must be of this world in order to move to the next. Bonhoeffer, whose life mirrored the apostle Paul’s in many ways, was given an opportunity to make a choice. Though he was a strong pacifist, there came an opportunity for Bonhoeffer to participate in a plot to have a German officer get close enough to put a bomb right next to Hitler. This was a struggle for Bonhoeffer, but in the end, he concluded that to withdraw from the political and military resistance would be a flight from responsibility as a citizen of this world in which God had placed him, so he dedicated himself to assignments for the Confessing Church and the Resistance. Bonhoeffer was incarcerated in a Gestapo prison for his work with the Resistance before the assassination attempt took place. Following the botched Operation Valkyrie, he was shuttled from one prison to another. While jailed, Bonhoeffer often wrote, and we understand him and his situation and faith through his letters and papers from prison. In the camps, as we now know, the Jewish people, homosexuals, nonconformists, and political prisoners were not treated as human, but were starved, experimented on, and often killed. Survivors speak of the terror of living day to day in those conditions. In the midst of this terror, Bonhoeffer reminds us that: Christian hope in resurrection differs from that of mythology insofar as it directs us to life here on earth in a completely new and, compared to the Old Testament, even more incisive fashion. Unlike believers in the myths of redemption, Christians have no ultimate refuge from earthly tasks and problems in the eternal. Christians must partake of earthly life to the very end, just as did Christ (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?), and only by doing so is the Crucified and Resurrected with them and are they themselves crucified and resurrected with Christ. This life here and now may not be prematurely suspended. This is the link between the Old and New Testaments. Myths of redemption arise from the human experience of limits, whereas Christ addresses us at the very center of our lives.2 It reminds me of the lyrics of a favorite hymn: My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness. In the midst of the struggle that is life and that is the full nature of life, we cannot separate ourselves from the struggles of this world, but we can embrace them and allow Christ to embrace us through the Holy Spirit in the midst of our suffering. In Christ, Bryan
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Many years ago, when I was starting out in ministry, I was sitting with a group of clergy at our weekly bible study. This was not a typical study week and a couple of the pastors were really struggling with anger towards their mentor who had come out publicly as supporting an issue they disagreed with. As they vented, a wise older pastor cut them off and said, “What gain do you get from being angry?” Of course, they responded that they had every right to be angry, they had a righteous anger because they felt betrayed. The older wise pastor called them out, saying, “It sounds as if your anger is not about the kingdom; rather, it is about you.” Watching this, for me, was something incredible. As the banter went back and forth, the two upset clergy did not want to give up their anger and the others were just getting annoyed. Eventually the two pastors left. And we began to talk. The wise pastor said, “Anger is a useless emotion. It is the epitome of human depravity, and when we sink into fits of anger, we close ourselves off to listening for God.” I thought that was interesting, because so often God is equated with being angry. So, I took some time to study how and why God gets angry and how we get angry. The analogy I like is to think of a little boy playing in the street. The mother runs out and is angry at the child because he is playing in the street. The little boy is angry because his mom won’t let him do what he wants. So often when we get angry, it is because we are not getting what we want and holding fast to a myopic, self-centered understanding of the world. Think about it: the boy is angry because he can’t do what he wants. From his viewpoint, he is being safe and not hurting anybody. But from the mother's standpoint, she knows it is a busy street and that her son will not always pay attention. Moreover, she knows that if he gets hurt, it will hurt a lot of other people, herself included. When we look at the stories of God getting angry, all of them center around us doing something that is focused on our own self-interest over the divine or even over the betterment of the community. This is no more explicit than the only time that Jesus gets angry in the New Testament. Jesus had gone up to Jerusalem for Passover when he went to the temple and found that it had been taken over by a marketplace. In what must have been quite a spectacle, Jesus drove everything out of the temple with whips, turned over the tables and ruined the money. Jesus’ anger was not only a result of the temple and the faith being used for profit. What you see in the dialog that followed was that he was not only angry that it was happening, but also because the people did not understand why this was wrong. Of course, you can imagine that the people in the market were extremely angry that he had just disrupted their lives. We can understand the rationalization, but that does not make it right. They were disrespecting God and putting the temple in danger. El Greco, Christ Driving the Money Changers from the Temple (National Gallery, London)
In fact, historically, this passage is connected with the destruction of the second temple around 70 CE. It was destroyed by the Romans because of a revolt, but to many at the time, the destruction was really linked to a lack of faithfulness. This furthered the rise of Christianity, as Christ becomes the New Temple, as it states in John 2:21. Regardless, as people, I agree with that pastor. Anger is not a useful emotion. So often when we get angry, we stop thinking, and more often than not, really hurt others in unintended ways. This anger is different than the anger that comes from God. The anger that comes from God, like the anger that comes from the mother, is not really anger at all, but a deep passionate love and desire that we live the full life that he created for us. What was the moment that you grew up? No, not when puberty hit, or when you reached those milestones like confirmation or turning 21; rather, when did you know that you could never think like a child again?
A friend of mine who is a psychologist claims that the moment you grow up is the very moment when you realize your own mortality. That totally makes sense! Hang around the cancer ward of a children’s hospital and you will meet some of the most mature people in the world. While that is a big part of maturing, there is another element to making the transition to adulthood. True maturity comes when you also accept humility, understanding that you are not always right or don't have the ultimate perspective on the world. In other words, maturity is recognizing that things existed before you and will exist when you are gone, and most importantly, that the world does not revolve around you. Most of us experience this sometime in our teen years, but we all can think of adults who never reach this point in life. Although one's immaturity is accepted while one is chronologically young, there comes a point where our immaturity can get in the way of being a Christian because we never come to accept that God has a path for us that is not always the one we seek for ourselves. Without putting our priorities in the right place, we risk a faith that cannot withstand the struggles and suffering of life. A big part of the Gospels is the story of how Jesus is preparing the disciples for both their ministry and for maintaining their faith in the midst of the struggles that life was going to put before them. I like to think of this time the disciples had with Christ as analogous to the maturation that happens for most people through their teenage years. As the disciples are journeying with Christ, they are also coming to the realization that the world does not revolve around them. One of the most blatant places we find this is in Mark 8:31-38, when at one point, Jesus tells Peter, “Get behind me, Satan.” In a very blunt way, Jesus is telling Peter to grow up already. Peter needs to let go of his fear of suffering and accept that it is unavoidable and good, otherwise he won’t be able to fulfill the ministry he is called to do. Moreover, he needs to begin thinking of what is really important: to let go of ego and accept his place in the greater story of faith. It makes me think about when I was on my mission to the Sisseton Reservation in South Dakota. I was very aware of my mortality, but it was there where I learned humility. This was the summer before college, and my church sent me proclaiming that I was going to make a difference in the lives of the people out there. I didn’t really accomplish that, and that was OK. As one of the elders of the reservation put it, they were doing a mission on me. They wanted to help me to understand their culture and their ways, so that I would be able to share their story with others about learning compassion over hate and acceptance over judgment. There is nothing like being surrounded by a very different culture to make you take stock of your arrogance. Like Peter, I spent much of that mission trip learning how to be understanding of the things I know nothing about and open to the work of the Lord. There were many times I heard Jesus in my head, telling me to get behind him. And when I did, I always learned something new. Needless to say, I grew up a lot that summer. For us, as it was for the disciples, it is hard to let go of our arrogance in thinking that knowledge we possess is universal and always correct. Jesus is continually trying to get Peter to understand the importance of letting go of what he thinks he knows and to begin to listen to Him. In the same way, that is what I had to do in Sisseton. I had to let go of what I knew and accept that people think differently from me, and that is not wrong but rather a blessing and life-altering change. As we continue this Lenten journey, I ask you to continue to think about what you believe and understand. Ask yourself if you have a mature faith open to Christ or if you are still in the place where you know the right and only way. If you still cling to your ego, ask yourself how that’s working for you and, more importantly, how is that working in our other call as Christians to build up the body of Christ? Never heard of Fat Tuesday? Well, you probably have heard of Mardi Gras, Carnival, possibly even Pancake Tuesday. (OK, I never heard of that one, either.) This holiday is an opportunity for people to purge their human and hedonistic desires so that when the Lenten season comes they can be penitent.
In the Protestant context, historically we do not make a big deal about Lent because our theology calls us to maintain an ordered life that focuses on the divine every day while struggling with the realities of living and working in the Mundane World[1]. However, over the past few decades, many in the Protestant traditions have come to embrace the Lenten disciplines because we have fallen into patterns where we no longer hold that discipline in our daily lives and need times to refocus and center ourselves back into an orderly faith. Lent, in the early church, began with what is called Quadragesima Sunday or the Sunday six weeks before Easter, but by the 7th century Lent expanded to Ash Wednesday to make it last 40 days. Forty is one of those special numbers, typically connected with penance and fasts. Jesus was tempted for 40 days (Matthew 4:2) and there were 40 days between Jesus’ resurrection and ascension (Acts 1:3). In the Hebrew texts, 40 days of “something” often preceded major events, for instance the Great Flood and the covenant with Noah (Genesis 8:5 - 9:17). I could go on, but for Lent and us, it is a 40-day journey to prepare us to understand the Resurrection in new and powerful ways. Historically this time was observed in various ways, from all-out fasts to refraining from rich food and libations. However, today, when many think of Lent, they equate it to refraining from meat on Fridays and giving up a mundane vice. The problem, of course, with the current observance is the same as why we Protestants began to embrace Lent in the modern era—it becomes a faith of convenience and not a daily discipline. This is important because if you want to experience the full witness of Christ at the Resurrection, reconnecting with God is crucial. So, creating a daily discipline that keeps God in focus is more important than anything else. The best thing to do is to start with something that is difficult but not impossible. For some, this means setting aside three times a day to pray, for others trying to read the whole Bible in forty days. Maybe volunteering at a social service agency or spending time in prayer while walking in nature might be your discipline. Whatever is out of the ordinary and helps you to think and connect with God is good! Granted, there is nothing wrong with people who follow a true fasting and prayer ritual, but it is important to remember that the purpose is not to prove how spiritual or connected you are, nor is it to show others how you are suffering. That would be about you and not God. Rather, this is a time that you are called to focused on reconnecting with God and whatever discipline allows that to happen for you is a great discipline to follow. So happy Fat Tuesday! Take time today to connect with your humanity and all of the things that are mundane in your life and begin to think of what your Lenten discipline will be. How will you connect with God? How will you challenge your discipline and change your life? In Christ, Bryan [1] a theological term referring to things of this world This coming Sunday is the last Sunday before we begin Lent. For the last four weeks, I have written on the theological understandings of faith, hope, love and evangelism. Today I am writing about something that is close to my heart and really encompasses all of these understandings, and that is mission.
Presbyterians are a reformed church. This means that at our core we have certain values which all lead back to a belief and faith in Jesus Christ. Without Christ as a central part of the church, our mission, and our call, we really have no purpose in existing. Anytime we place anything before our worship and celebration of Christ, we risk losing the essential understanding of what it means to be a reformed Christian. This includes our rules and guidelines, whether it is in the denomination or in the congregation. Within the reformed church, the most important ways in which we respond to God’s mission in our world is through our actions (i.e. prayer, worship, learning, and service). I believe that it is through service that we really get into the depth of God’s mission for this world. This understanding of service comes from the notion that God has called us out of this world to be in relation to God, while simultaneously calling us into this world to work for justice and to propagate God’s mission. Karl Barth, the great 20th century theologian, talked about it in terms of Missio Dei, or the mission of God. Karl Barth writes: Thus the ministry of this people also takes place in the course, in the constantly changing stages and situations, of ongoing human history. And its ministry of witness, ordered in relation to that of Jesus Christ, is also both a ministry to God and a ministry to [people]; and a ministry to God in which it may serve [people]; and a ministry to [people] in which it may serve God; and therefore a ministry to the God who speaks to [people] in His Word, and to the [person] who is already called and now summoned to hear, proclaim and accept the Word of God. (IV.3.2 p.831) As a church, Presbyterians are not called to be inwardly focused; rather, we are called to be part of God’s mission in this world, what I refer to as being a Missional Church. We are forever being called out of ourselves and into something more with the focus of propagating the mission of God. More than anything else, we must listen for the ways in which God is calling us to serve him, not the rule and institutions which we created to worship him. In the early church, there was very little difference between mission, ministry, and service. In fact, they all come from the same word, diakonia, which is the root of our word "deacon." For Paul and the early church, the diakonia were given the charge, just as deacons are today, of service to God through their ministry. Thus, the goal and purpose of mission was more like the understanding found at the end of the gospel of Matthew 28:19: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." Often this is summed up in the Greek word, oikoumene, which means "world" and is understood as "world mission." Individuals are called by God into a missional life. This is a life that has a beginning but has no end. Once called into that life, the missionary is called to surrender their human life in order to live one that is focused on God. Our mission and service always have to come back to God through Jesus Christ, and we must constantly challenge ourselves to answer both why and how we are serving God. I really like one sign that a church had in their narthex as you walked in: “Under the same management for 2,000 years.” We cannot forget that we are called to be the church, to be the body of Christ, by Christ and we are called to serve only one God, our God. In 2017, we had a new phenomenon in the church—we actually grew for the first time in over 20 years, having more members at the end of the year than we had at the beginning. Part of my call to this congregation was the realization that this church had everything you would want to make growth possible. However, with any hope for growth, the question every congregation needs to ask is: Do we want to?
Every church can grow, but there is a sacrifice that needs to be given. And often that sacrifice is the hardest one: letting go of what we know and letting go of the power of the past. As I often highlight in evangelism training, with every new person that comes through our doors, the church changes. It really is not that hard to think of, because the world around us is always changing, no matter how hard we try to keep it the same. As a church it is easy to become an isolated fortress for the way things once were, but in doing so, no matter how hard we try to be open, we become an exclusive community with our own vocabulary and sense of insider or outsider. But we also fear how that will change the nature and essence of our identity as a congregation. Simply stated, the major problem with growth for any congregation is the fear of change. This fear is what makes evangelism such a scary term, especially for Presbyterians, because at its root, it requires change. To be honest, typically by the time a Presbyterian church begins to change, the society around it has already grown past that change, because of our reliance of doing things decently and in order. Now that is not always a bad thing, but it also explains the denomination’s loss of membership. In a very real way, we are not reaching the emerging culture. The emerging culture is a term that is increasingly used in church to break away from the historical understandings of youth and young adults. The main example is the phrase, “When they start having kids, they will come back to church.” While that is true of some, the emerging generation cannot come back to church because they were not part of it in the first place. This drastically changes the ways in which we approach and evangelize them, and it creates new struggles of overcoming stereotypes so that we can reach this new population. We must begin to look and see this community and their needs, so we can be faithful to the message of Christ. Personally, the best ending of any book, movie, story, or song I have seen or will ever see is the ending of the Gospel according to Matthew. In a real way, it calls the reader to task. The New Revised Standard Version reads, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” It does not sum up the gospel but gives us a call to action: “GO. You heard the story, you know who I am, and now it is your job to do what you need to do to let others know of my story, knowing that it is I who will be working through you!” Thus, the responsibility of evangelism is a dual one which requires action both on God’s part and ours. We have to go out and find ways to attract people to the message of God, and moreover, we have the responsibility to spread this message. Through the next year, we are going to try new things to reach out to the unchurched and those who need to hear God’s message:
A strong faith and a true hope are nothing if separated out from love. Unfortunately, in the English language, the word love has become a sterile catch-all, losing a great deal of the beauty held within the nuance of the words from which it originates. In the Greek New Testament, there are two words which are translated as love: philo and agape. “As to the distinction between agape and philo: the former, by virtue of its connection with agamai, properly denotes a love founded in admiration, veneration, esteem, like the Latin diligere, to be kindly disposed to one, wish one well; but philo denotes an inclination prompted by sense and emotion.”[1]
Thus, agape love is actually a very different type of love than philo. Philo love is a temporal love, one based in emotion; this is your sexual love, the desire-of-your-heart love, the love of the moment. However, the agape love is neither temporal, nor is it really even emotional; some might even call it a transcendent love. The agape love, exclusive to the Bible, is the love which is most closely related to God. One of the great problems in the English tradition is how we lose a great deal of meaning when we meld the two into one. Within the Christian context, it leads to so many problems. I can think of the televangelist asking the gathered, “Do you feel God’s love?” Unfortunately, that changes what the love relationship is between man and God. It is not a temporary feeling. It is a long-term calm. When you mix the temporal, emotional love with the powerful, transcendent love, we reduce God to good feelings and warm thoughts. God’s love is more than a mere emotional experience. To be honest, this is where people have used emotion to take advantage of others. Because it feels good, it must be the right thing to do! The love that you have from God is much more than that. I think of it in many ways. The day after Groundhog Day, I will celebrate 33 years since my first surgery on my stomach and esophagus. As a nine-year-old boy, I knew one kind of love, and that came from my parents. To be more specific, I can think of the love my mother demonstrated to me by staying with me during all of my surgeries. I know it was not pleasant, and I know I was not always pleasant, but no matter what the condition or what the pain was causing me to say or do, she was there. By the time I was a teenager and no longer would admit to wanting her there, she stayed anyway. That is an example of agape love. There is no emotional or momentary reward; however, the love that came with the feeling of safety and care transcended the moment. God’s love is like that. God is there when you want God, when you need God, and even when you don’t think you need God. Just take a look at the laments found in the Old Testament. As you read the cries, which are quite vicious at times, you can begin to hear this powerful expression of love. Moreover, you can begin to see the powerful love relationship with God. We started this journey looking at 1 Corinthians 13:13: “And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.” At the foundation of our relationship is faith: knowing, seeing, and realizing God’s presence in our life. Out of our faith comes hope, which lifts us out of despair and into a life with new meaning. In faith and hope, we experience God’s agape, the love that surpasses a temporal emotion and is a constant presence in our life. While we cannot ever fully understand this love, we know this love is there, and as a community, we are called to share in it! [1] Thayer, J. H. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament (Hendrickson Publishers: Peabody, MA) As we look back at 2017, so much has gone on that it is hard to say how history will remember this past year. At times, it almost seems as if it were made for late-night comedy shows. Though beyond the absurd things, as a country, we made historic decisions; some good, some bad, and some that we’ll have to wait to see how they play out. As we sit at the beginning of 2018, we have to keep in perspective where we have been and where God is calling us. While we continue to see the stock market go up and down like a roller coaster and media-laced panic, we have to search for a real sense of hope—for a new direction for our country, and hope for a strong future, and most importantly, a true hope In God.
According to the Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms, in the Christian traditions, hope is “the Christian anticipation of the future as the fulfillment of God's purposes based on God's covenant of faithfulness and the resurrection of Jesus Christ as known by the work of the Holy Spirit in the church.” I think that true hope is sometimes more difficult than faith. With faith, there is a known element. We are here and we believe. We see faith through other people, but hope, true hope, is something which is hard for us to really see, since it is something that comes at the end. Ultimately, it is a hope for something yet to come. Now, it is important not to go too far with this either, since hope is much more than our vision. Walter Brueggemann identifies four constructs of hope found among the Hebrew people of the Old Testament. The four constructs lead to the belief that God will not forget them and that God will follow through in his covenant. Whether we place a focus on the Christian or Old Testament view of hope, ultimately hope is something that is strongly pointed towards the future, and a powerful way of thinking. In the entry on hope in Reverberations of Faith, Brueggemann states: "A strong case has been made that a defining mark of a postindustrial, technological world is despair, the inability to trust in any new and good future that is promised and may yet be given. Insofar as despair marks the current social environment of faith, to that extent hope is a distinctive mark of faith with dangerous and revolutionary social potential."[1] I think that this is one of the most powerful statements on hope, because if we really have hope, we can overcome despair—though there will be a cost. Hope calls us to a new social reality, one that realizes that we are not held back by the things of this world, but propelled into a powerful new reality in God. Hope does not come from any temporal feeling, but from a constant longing and realization that God is part of our journey. Romans 8:24-25 reminds us that24 For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. To have hope, it needs to be firmly rooted in faith and placed solely within the loving and careful arms of our Lord Jesus Christ. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead … 1 Peter 1:3 [1] Brueggemann, Walter. Reverberations of Faith: A Theological Handbook of the Old Testament (Westminster John Knox: Louisville) 102. As I was sitting down to write the newsletter, one phrase kept repeating over and over in my head, and that is the wonderful line from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians 13:13: “And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.” In fact, I began to see that this would be a great trio of themes that go along with the ordering our lives for the New Year. So, I hope that when this series is done, you will understand this verse and powerful witness of Christian faith, hope, and love.
The Westminster Dictionary of Theological Terms says that faith “in Christianity (is) belief, trust, and obedience to God as revealed in Jesus Christ. It is the means of salvation (Eph. 2:8-9) or eternal life (John 6:40). Faith affects all dimensions of one's existence: intellect, emotions, and will.” I only put this in here to provide a starting point. When we talk about faith, it means so many different things to so many different people. Some people have a great deal of faith, and you would never know it. Conversely, there are many who you think are deeply rooted in their faith who actually are not. To that end, faith can be a very touchy subject. My basic theory as to why churches spend so much time arguing about budgets and money is that they are more comfortable with that discussion than to speak about their faith. When I was in seminary, I participated in a class offered at the World Council of Churches in Geneva, Switzerland. While there, I had a sit-down interview with Alexander Beloposky, who was in the Orthodox tradition working on issues of youth and Ecumenism. It was a fascinating interview for many reasons. Most interestingly, I vividly remember the discussion on faith. He said that one of the most difficult areas in ecumenical dialogue was to talk about what people believed, not because they were afraid of the discussion, but because they did not want to offend others. My experience (after working in the church as a missionary, youth director, chaplain and pastor for the past 16 years) is that regardless of the age, many people have a difficult time talking about faith. Often, when people do begin to talk about their faith, they leave out those times of struggle, creating what appears to be a perfect and unquestioned faith, as if the individual's faith was untouched. I remember visiting a Presbyterian seminary where an individual was telling us the story of how God clearly spoke to him as he was eating a hamburger, telling him to go to seminary. I did not go to that seminary. The reality is that while there may be the occasional person who has never questioned their faith, I have yet to meet them. We all struggle at one point or another, and often it is in the struggle where we get that moment of clarity about our faith and begin to see God in a new way. The further reality of faith is that it is messy and often not very clear. It sometimes puts us in difficult situations, and sometimes it lifts us up for no apparent reason. Ultimately, faith is this incredible relationship that we have with God. Paul speaks often about faith throughout his letters. He reminds those in his communities that the faith is open to all since it is not a faith owned by humankind, but one that is owned by God. He writes in Romans 4:16: “For this reason it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his descendants, not only to the adherents of the law but also to those who share the faith of Abraham.” We just enjoyed the Christmas season. If you gave up everything and did not even have a dollar to buy a gift, could Christmas still be special? Well, of course! Christmas is definitely not about things in this world. It is about our relationship, our faith in God! Honestly, the greatest gift that you could give to anyone, or at least the one that would last the longest, is to share your faith story. THE GOOD AND THE BAD, the ups and the downs; it is all part of it. The faith stories of the Bible do not always paint a rosy picture of God, but they do let us know that in the midst of everything, God really does love us and in the end comes through for us. Now, that is faith! My favorite thing about the new year is that it gives us a point at which we can move on from the past and embrace whatever new reality is before us. New Year’s Day is interesting because of all the new year celebrations, it is rather arbitrary. While close to the solstice, it is determined mostly because the calendar refreshed. We know that other cultures have their New Year’s celebrations at dates based in astrology or other traditions—just think of Chinese New Year or Yom Kippur.
Running through most celebrations of the new year is an understanding that the past needs to be dealt with in order to have a successful new start. In the Judeo/Christian/Muslim world, our concept of New Year’s is rooted in forgiveness. By forgiving transgressions which have been made, we recognize atonement and are given the chance to make a fresh start for the new year. Forgiveness is a practice which is modeled for us over and over by Christ himself. Christ continually brings a sense of hope and a fresh start to people through his ministry of compassion and forgiveness. The Lord’s Prayer is one of the best examples of forgiveness. In this simple prayer, we get the bold teaching that we are to forgive others just as God has forgiven us. It is simple logic: if you receive forgiveness, why not share that forgiveness with others? But more than that, it is a lifestyle. A forgiving person will lead a fuller life, because instead of holding onto the grudges and debts of others, they are freed to focus on God. It reminds me of what I like to call the parable of the greedy servant in Matthew 18:21-35: 1 Then Peter came and said to him, "Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?" 22 Jesus said to him, "Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. 23 "For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. 24 When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; 25 and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. 26 So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.' 27 And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. 28 But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, 'Pay what you owe.' 29 Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you.' 30 But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. 31 When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. 32 Then his lord summoned him and said to him, 'You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. 33 Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?' 34 And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. 35 So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart." Forgiveness is one of the hardest tasks we must perform as Christians. Forgiveness calls us to grow in immeasurable ways, and to mutually start anew. The problem with forgiveness, and the thing that makes it so hard for us, is that we have to forgive without strings attached. In our society, this is difficult, because it requires us to do two things we most dislike: we have to change, and we have to start fresh. If we forgive something in a relationship, for example, our relationship must start refreshed and renewed. If we continue to hold the past in check, we are never able to fully forgive. We are then charged with exploring our relationship again so that growth may occur. Thus, forgiveness also causes change for both parties. In some cases, the change is slight; in others, it is dramatic. In either case, it is the forgiveness that brings us into renewal and allows us that fresh start. I like a model of letting the new year start with a fresh outlook, working toward positive relations with others and toward releasing ourselves from the burden of anger and resentment which comes from not forgiving. So, as you go into this New Year, follow the guidance that is laid out in the parable of the greedy servant. When it comes to forgiveness, we are called to forgive “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times,” or as many as it takes, for we have received much more than that from God. |
AuthorRev. Dr. Bryan James Franzen Archives
September 2018
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