It Is All About the Stump (x)

This is the tenth in a series of postings looking at the meaning of Isaiah 6 for today; it began (here).

Isaiah 6 closes with a curious analogy.  After the Hebrews have been subjected to a brutal process of being repeatedly cut down, only a stump will remain, and "The holy seed is its stump."  According to this ancient Hebrew religious text, God's plan was to destroy God's people for their rebellion and immorality, but out of all of that destruction God was going to bring forth new life out of the apparently dead stump.

Read from an early 21st century perspective, this ancient text reflects two important spiritual realities built into us and our world by God.  The first is the reality of karma, that is "what goes around comes around."  According to the ancient Hebrew myth of the Garden, humanity chose death, and it has been paying the price for that choice ever since.  The myth reflects reality.  The things we do have consequences for us and for those around us.  Individually and collectively we are able to build a more or a less peaceful world by our own peace-making or trouble-making actions.  Beat a child and both parent and child pay the price.  Hug a child in pain and both the hugger and the hugged reap the benefit.  Yes, the innocent suffer, but it is because other human beings make them suffer and suffer themselves (in one way or another) as a consequence.  It sounds unjust until one considers that the system ultimately self-selects for justice and peace.  Evil choices lead to evil consequences for the chooser.  The Arab Spring is only the latest massive human movement clawing its way through the reality of karma toward something better.

According to the ancient Hebrew texts of the Old Testament, the nation and its leaders in their rebellion against God chose injustice and oppression, and they reaped the consequences.  Sow death and you get it.  This law permeates and defines human reality no more or less than does gravity.  Like gravity, it hurts and limits us—and we can't live without it.

Also built into us is the second reality: resurrection.  It is a common human experience: we fall and fail, and when the dust settles and we pick up our life again we discover that the "death" of the failure has opened doors to something better than before.  It is in resurrection that we experience the grace of God.  It is in the rhythms of dying to new life that we feel the work of the Spirit.

And, again, we don't have a clue why things are this way.  Anyone who tells you they know God's plan is fooling themselves.  What I do believe personally is that God has built a future into us, which in biblical terms we call the Kingdom of God.  We are evolving spiritually as much as we are biologically, but to what ultimate end is not clear at all.  What is clear is that a Hebrew prophet living 2,800 years ago dimly perceived what we dimly perceive: we reap what we sow, and God the Holy Spirit is constantly at work bringing a new, unexpected thing out of the sowing and reaping—something that transcends and reshapes the fundamental truth of karma.  Go figure.

The God Who is Not Love (ix)

This is the ninth in a series of postings looking at the meaning of Isaiah 6 for today; it began (here).

It is chapters like Isaiah 6 that give the God of the Old Testament a bad name and a somewhat sinister reputation among the masses.  In popular imagination, the OT God is  jealous, angry, into judgment big time, wipes out whole cities, drowns armies, and all-in-all a rather nasty fellow.  On the other hand, God seldom gets credit for being slow to anger and quick to forgive, and the OT God's long-suffering patience with the Hebrew people is pretty much overlooked.  God's act of freeing the Hebrews from slavery and his special concern for widows and orphans (social marginals) is ignored.  The deep affection the psalmist who penned Psalm 23 had for God doesn't matter apparently.

So, what do we do with a passage like Isaiah 6:9-11 where God tells the prophet to preach a message that won't be heard so the people's minds will be dulled and their senses distorted so they won't turn to God  (repent) and be healed?  God tells Isaiah to keep up this kind of preaching until Judah's cities are emptied and the whole nation including its land is laid waste. In other words, God intends nothing less than genocide of such proportions that even the land will become barren.

This is hard stuff, however we try to explain it.  I'm not sure there is any explanation that will satisfy early 21st century readers (other than the biblical literalists) because what we're dealing with here is a view of reality crafted 2,800 years ago in a world that valued violence differently than we do now.  Still, a case can be made that relative to the spiritual landscape of the age, YHWH (the God of the Hebrews) was a markedly beneficent and loving deity that did not demand child sacrifice but did command justice and called on his people to love him rather than fear him.  Other gods had little concern for the poor.  Other gods had to be bought off with offerings and rite and rituals, while this God said repeatedly through the prophets that such things are useless when there is no justice.  Hence the prophet Micah's message that all God demands of his people is that they act justly, love kindness, and walk in humility with God (Micah 6:8).

Nonetheless, the authors of the Old Testament worshipped a God who had a violent, genocidal side. We have to accept that and insist again that not everything in the Bible is Christ-like or worthy of our faith. We put our ultimate faith in Christ not the Bible, which means we can critically reject negative aspects of the Bible while still accepting its authority under Christ and in light of Christ. Christ constrains scripture. Scripture does not constrain Christ.

But, we haven't gotten to the stump yet.  Once again, stay tuned.

Send Me (viii)

This is the eighth in a series of postings looking at the meaning of Isaiah 6 for today; it began (here).

The first part of Isaiah 6 is a favorite among preachers, esp. those who want to motivate their congregation in one way or another.  It starts with the grand vision, as we've seen, and it ends in verse 8 with God asking, "Who is willing to be my messenger," and Isaiah famously responding, "OK, Lord, I'll go."  Unlike other Old Testament figures called by God—Moses and Jeremiah always come to mind—Isaiah didn't hesitate even though God didn't specifically address him with the fateful question.  Isaiah, thus, is the epitome of commitment, a wonderful object lesson for all of us—so long as we don't read beyond verse 8.  The rest of the chapter is something else again.

Hold that thought while we digress for a moment.  Commentators wrestle with the placing of Isaiah's call in chapter 6.  Logically, it should be at the very beginning of the book.  One theory (a good one so far as I can see) is that the whole call including verses 9 and following only makes sense if the reader understands the actual situation facing the Hebrew people in Isaiah's time.  Without going into all the details (see Isaiah 1-5), Isaiah's actual call was to preach doom and gloom, pronounce judgement, and issue dire warnings of a dark future.

In that context, verses 9 and following make more sense.  Once Isaiah volunteers to be God's prophet, God basically charges Isaiah to preach a message that will fail to communicate so that the people will not escape the doom that awaits them.  When Isaiah asks, "How long am I supposed to preach this message and how long will the people stand under judgment?" God answers, "Until there's nothing left but a stump."  The destruction of Judah will be all but total, leaving only a metaphorical stump.  Modern-day preachers seldom venture into the hostile territory of verses 9 and following.  It is a whole lot less inspiring than what comes before.  It's so bad that I can't even end this posting with an "Amen."  Stay tuned.

Learning

I never learned anything while I was talking.

Larry King

FPC Log: Ride the Tiger or Die (1)

The windmills of Lewis County, NY

At its November meeting, the session (Presbyterian speak for council or board) of First Presbyterian Church, Lowville, conducted a review of the church's finances and realized that the church can afford to employ a full-time pastor for only a few more years.  Like so many mainline churches, FPC, Lowville, has been in decline for well over a decade, and like virtually all of those churches the central reason for decline is that it has failed to change at the pace the world is changing.  For FPC, it is the 1950s.  The church still worships, behaves, and organizes itself largely as it did 60 years ago.  There's nothing unusual in this.  It is, as I say, the situation facing thousands and thousands of mainline churches.

It is possible, however, that FPC, Lowville,  might have a different future than the great majority of those churches.  This past Sunday, November 20th, I preached a sermon that described the church's state of decline and its three basic options: OPTION ONE: let the decline be; OPTION TWO: seek to manage the decline wisely; or OPTION THREE: enter a period of discernment seeking to discover how to be a 21st century church—i.e. commit  itself to learn how to change dramatically.  The congregation has generally greeted the open acknowledgment of its condition with acceptance and even appreciation, and there may be a willingness to embrace the Third Option, a spiritual investigation of how it can become a church of the future rather than the past.  Or, maybe not.  Like many Presbyterian churches, it has a wealth of leadership ability and an impressive potential (spiritually and organizationally) to be something different than what it is, but that does not mean that it will embrace the challenge of the 21st century.  It might—or it might not.

At present roughly 25% of the church's members carry out 75% of the work of the church.  Another roughly 24% is somewhat involved and carries most of the remaining 25% of the load.  The other 50% of the membership does 1% of the work and mostly goes out of its way to stay uninvolved.  These figures may actually be a fair measure of the church's spiritual and institutional life.  Like most mainline churches, it is better at being a religious institution (albeit, one still living in the 1950s) than it does at being a faith community.  People feel that truth without being able to express it, and most of them don't see the point of getting too involved.

In any event, over the next 12-18 months FPC, Lowville, is going to have to make some fundamental choices about the future.  My personal hope is that it will go for Option Three, embrace the challenge, and see where that challenge takes it.  I believe that the decline of the mainline church is within the providence of God in ways that I don't really understand.  God has built exponentially accelerating change into humanity, and churches either ride the tiger of change or die.  As pastor of the church, it is not my place to push or prod the church into any future.  My one task is to ask it where it wants to go.  If it chooses to embrace decline (as churches mostly do, although seldom self-consciously) then my task as pastor is to help it learn how to manage its declining years wisely.  Declining churches can still be vital churches, and Option Two is not a bad option.  Even Option One has its positive aspects.  But I hope FPC, Lowville, goes for Option Three and enters a time of prayerful, studied spiritual discernment seeking to learn how to be a 21st century church.  How cool could that be!

Point of (Mis)Information

Just so you know, it matters where we get our news from.  According to a recent study done at Fairleigh Dickinson University, consumers of some news sources, notably Fox News and (to a lesser extent) MSNBC, are more misinformed about current events than informed.  Fox News viewers, in particular, are more likely to believe things are true that are not actually true, for example that TARP was passed by Congress during the Obama Administration when it was actually passed during the Bush presidency.  In the case of Fox News, it doesn't matter whether the viewer is a Republican or Democrat.  If you watch Fox, chances are you are less well-informed about current events than if you don't watch or listen to or read any news at all.  That's scary.  And not surprising, either.

Rant Alert: Christmas Carols Are Meant for Singing

There was a time when Presbyterians sang Christmas carols pretty much every Sunday in Advent right up to Christmas Sunday and Christmas Eve.  Then, some time in the last 20-30 years it became all the vogue to forgo singing Christmas carols until Christmas Sunday and Christmas Eve.  "All the vogue" here means among pastors—not among the laity.  Churches wait all year to sing Christmas carols, and it seems almost an act of cruelty to force them to wait, wait, wait until the very end of Advent.  People want to sing the carols!  And there is such a rich variety of carols that four Sundays in Advent plus Christmas Eve doesn't exhaust the possibilities.

So, Why wait?

According to the Liturgical FAQ page of St. Jude's Catholic Church, Ft. Wayne, Indiana, we are to refrain from singing carols,

"For the same reason we don’t sing “Jesus Christ Is Risen Today, Alleluia!” during Lent.  We are waiting. We are preparing. We are getting ready for the feast. It is not yet time to shout and celebrate. That time will come, and we’ll be ready for it. During Advent, we dwell with the prophets of old who yearned for God’s coming. Though, of course, Emmanuel is already with us, we take the time to reflect on what it means to wait for the fullness of God’s coming. The kingdom of God is among us – but not yet fully realized. That’s up to us. So now we consider the whats, hows and whos of our participation in the coming of God’s reign on earth. We wait for Jesus coming in history. We wait for Jesus coming to us as we assemble and pray. We wait for Jesus coming to us in the proclamation of the scriptures. We wait for Jesus coming to us in Holy Communion and all the sacraments. We wait for Jesus coming for each of us at the end of our lives. We wait for Jesus coming in glory at the end of time. After more than three weeks of quiet, reflective waiting, we are ready to shout: “Joy to the world! O come, all ye faithful! Hark, the herald angels sing!” But until then, we anticipate with delight what we know will come on December 24, in the middle of that Silent Night, Holy Night."

Yes, OK, but...seriously?  For starters, there is no reason why churches can't sing "Jesus Christ is Risen Today, Alleluia" on any given Sunday.  Every Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection, which is why we worship on Sundays to begin with.  The only reason we don't sing so-called Easter hymns on other Sundays is because we don't—that's all.  We could.  We should.  But, through force of habit we don't.

Then there's the waiting thing.  First, we already have a season for reflection and waiting, Lent.  Is it really necessary to force churches to go through another one?  What more is gained?  Second, what does not singing carols have to do with waiting?  Yes, of course, the lyrics of the carols celebrate the events of the birth of Christ as recorded in Matthew and Luke, but not as if they are actually happening now.  Christmas carols are a reflection of the church's memory of the coming of Christ.  We can wait in anticipation of the Coming of Christ while singing them, too.  Third, many carols are appropriate for virtually every Sunday of the year.  Carols such as "Joy to the World!" and "O Come, All Ye Faithful" voice sentiments not strictly tied to the birth of Christ.  Indeed, just as every Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection so, too, every Sunday celebrates the coming of Christ, God with us.  Finally, we've already been waiting all year to sing the carols.  Enough waiting—let's have some fun!

I suspect this is another post-Vatican II thing where Presbyterian seminaries & preachers got enthusiastic about Catholic liturgical reform and went ye therefore and did likewise—for no good reason, so far as I can tell.

But at the end of the day, all of this is just logic chopping, to a degree.  The real reason that churches should sing carols throughout Advent and at other times during the year is because they are fun.  They are lively, and many of them invoke fond cultural as well as liturgical memories.  In an age of dwindling worship attendance, it is hardly wise to withhold  the pleasure of singing carols for the sake of a waiting period that most lay people don't buy into and most aren't even aware of.  Jesus, after all, thought of the Kingdom of God as being a party, a banquet that we are invited to, and Christmas carols are a great way to celebrate the party.  So, let's sing them to our heart's content!  Amen.

I'm Doomed! (vii)

This is the seventh in a series of postings looking at the meaning of Isaiah 6 for today; it began (here).

In the last couple of postings in this series, we've dwelt on Isaiah's grand vision of God "high and lifted up," and now we come to the flip side—the human side.  Isaiah's vision of himself and of his nation was as low as his vision of God was grand.  It made him feel small and incredibly unworthy—the creature standing before its Creator.  In ancient times, people feared the spiritual powers that they worshipped, and getting too close to those powers was literally life-threatening.  Isaiah was a man of his times, and seeing God up close and personal drove him to the depths of fear.  And being a man of his times, he thought not just about his own personal unworthiness but also about that of his people.  If the lips reveal the true nature of  the person and the nation, then he  and his people were fearfully unclean.  How can the impure stand in the presence of the Pure and Holy One?  For Isaiah, he couldn't.

What do we do with this Isaiah's fear today?  Should we share it?  In colonial and post-colonial America, evangelical Christians certainly did.  The most faithful of them constantly, sometimes even frantically took their spiritual temper to see if they had been saved or not.  They worried that their relatives, friends, and neighbors had not been saved from hellfire.  Preachers thundered from pulpits and people trembled at what they heard.  In some circles today, the Christian life is still partly lived in a fear of damnation and hope of a salvation in the face of God's judgment and the prospect of life lived eternally in hell.

For others, we are learning what many learned before us, namely that in Jesus the name of the game has changed.  The Creator is not an inimical, angry God casting the faithless into eternal torment.  God, rather, is the One who shed the trappings of divinity to be one of us and reveal to us the profound love of God for creation and for us.  In Christ, we are learning that compassion is far more powerful than fear.  We should still fall on our knees in the presence of God but not in fear so much as in a profound love for the One who first loved us.  Amen.

Chain Reaction

Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction.

So when Jesus says, 'Love your enemies,' he is setting forth a profound and ultimately inescapable admonition. Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies--or else? The chain reaction of evil--hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars--must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Source: Strength to Love

From Inward/Outward

Reaching for the Beyond (vi)

This is the sixth in a series of postings looking at the meaning of Isaiah 6 for today; it began (here).

So, Isaiah had this incredible vision described in the first verses of Isaiah 6, which today shoves us to the boundaries of language and or the everyday world.  In one way, it was a vision unique to one visionary, a vision the roots of which are now obscured by the passage of time.  In another way, however, it is not all that unique.  Visionaries have continued to have "peak experiences," as described by the American scholar-psychologist, Abraham Maslow.  Pentecostal Christians, for example, experience trance-like states when they speak in tongues.  Those who engage in various forms of meditation can have deeply mystical experiences as they meditate.  Many individuals experience moments in nature when they feel transported to another plane of peace and joy, however briefly.  They may not see visions as clear as Isaiah's, but these experiences can transform their lives, and at the very least give life a deeper sense of purpose and meaning.

Christians generally associate these moments with the Holy Spirit, and we recognize them as a gift of grace.  In truth, there are many such Spirit-filled moments if we only have the wit to stop and see them.  We stand at the side of the crib of our first-born and feel something that really can't be put into words.  That's the Spirit.  We sit on a dock in the quiet of the morning listening to birds and feeling the light touch of the breeze, and we feel something that touches us deeply and can't really be expressed in words.  That's the Spirit.  In our love of another, we sense the Spirit lurking deep below.  In the insights we gain from a book or a conversation that are like suddenly seeing something we never saw before, there the Spirit is again.  Lurking.  Working.  Calling us forward and beyond.  That is all the work of the Spirit pulling us toward a deeper personal life and a future of peace and harmony that is and will be the Kingdom of God.  Amen.