All My Tomorrows (On Janis Joplin's Birthday)

For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become servants of one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Galatians 5:13-14

Paul did not agree with Kris Kristofferson’s assessment that “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose.” 

But then again, Paul never heard it sung by Janis Joplin.

She would be seventy-five years old today.

My brain has a hard time imagining Janis Joplin at seventy-five, but she certainly left us way too soon.

She was the lead singer for Big Brother and the Holding Company when they came to Wesleyan on March 9, 1968. Fifty years ago this spring. A month before Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot. Three months before Bobby Kennedy. Eight months before we elected Richard Nixon.

But when I hear her singing in my head I don’t think about national events. I think about that great talent lost. The wrenching pain that drove her to greatness and ultimately pushed her over the edge. 

When she was at the University of Texas, as a fraternity prank, some guys nominated her for “Ugliest Man on Campus.” There must be a special place in hell for people who think that’s funny.

The acne scars. The tangled hair. When I hear Faith Hill sing her version of “Take Another Little Piece of My Heart,” I wonder if two people could ever be more different than Faith Hill and Janis Joplin.

Everyone sings sad songs. And every singer wants you to believe that they have lived the blues. But Janis Joplin didn’t need to convince anyone.

In Kris Kristofferson’s “Me & Bobby McGee,” she sang one of the most poignant lines of all time: “I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday.” 

As it turned out, she did not have very many tomorrows to trade.

Sometimes yesterday seems so much better than today. In my head, it is not Bobby McGee, but Janis Joplin, who is singing. And feeling good was easy then, when Janis sang the blues. 

“Me & Bobby McGee” is a dark vision. But it is despair delivered with a driving beat that makes you want to sing along. The words are dark but the music is bright.

In many ways, faith is about trading yesterday for tomorrow. Maybe not without regret, but certainly with hope.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always welcome. Please feel free to share on social media as you wish.

Resting in the Arms of the Great Wide Open

When I am driving and I want to listen to music, my tendency is to put a CD in and leave it there. Several years ago, a friend gave me a recording of a Bob Dylan concert at URI and I listened to it from East Greenwich to Georgetown, Maine. 

Over and over for four hours. 

Needless to say, I was making that trip alone.

When my daughter gave me a CD of Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, I listened to it for weeks (around town). The music is brilliant and ultimately life-affirming, but there is a deep melancholy.

Not long ago I was listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter, and the song that most caught my attention is called “Almost Home.” It’s about looking at your life, seeing the things you have saved and wondering why you find it so hard to let go of the past. In the chorus she sings:

I'm not running

I'm not hiding

I'm not reaching

I'm just resting in the arms 

of the great wide open

Gonna pull my soul in

And I'm almost home

At a very basic level, faith is about “resting in the arms of the great wide open.” It is about trusting enough so that we don’t have to be running or hiding or reaching. A lot of ministry is about running and reaching. 

Our church, especially our leadership, has done a lot of running and reaching over the past few years. And in the process we probably have not taken enough time for faithful Sabbath rest.

In the song, she sings about being lost “in the ache of old goodbyes.” Over the recent months and years, we have gone through many of those painful times. We have said “goodbye” to many friends. Some have moved and others have passed on. And we have grieved with friends who have lost parents and grandparents and loved ones.

It is painful to leave the past and difficult to trust the future. And sometimes our reaching and running are little more than an ultimately unsuccessful effort to escape the inescapable.

In the twelfth chapter of Mark’s Gospel, a man asks Jesus what is the most important thing that he should do. Jesus answers by quoting from Deuteronomy and Leviticus: “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” After the man agrees and affirms the wisdom of his response, Jesus says, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.”

Not far. Almost home. It’s not about reaching or running or hiding. It’s about loving God and neighbor. 

Resting in the arms of the great wide open.

What Do You Believe?

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
Mark 1:14-15

One Sunday morning several years ago an elderly woman approached me in the coffee hour and asked me earnestly why we never said “The Affirmation of Faith.” On that particular morning we had recited a modern affirmation and I pointed that out. “No,” she said, “I mean the original one.”

“You mean, the Apostles' Creed,” I said. 

“Yes,” she answered, “Why don’t we ever say the Apostles' Creed?”

“Well,” I hesitated, “the truth is that a lot of people don’t really believe the Apostles' Creed and they feel uncomfortable saying it.” I paused. “I mean they don’t believe all of it literally . . .”

She smiled. “I don’t believe it either, but I still like to say it.”

That may sound odd, but basically, she had it right. She didn't mean that she didn't believe any of it, she meant that she didn't believe all of it literally. One of the things that is difficult for modern Christians to understand is that the creed was intended as a liturgical retelling of the Gospel Story. It was part of the worship life of the early church. More like a hymn than a theological statement, and certainly not intended to be read as history.

The official United Methodist web site has an article on the historic creeds of the Christian faith, which begins with the declaration that, “Unlike some churches that require affirmation of a strict list of beliefs as a condition of membership, The United Methodist Church is not a creedal church.” Historically, United Methodists have not been expected to believe literally in every word of the creeds. We used the creeds because they can “help us come to our own understanding of the Christian faith. They affirm our unity in Christ with those followers who first wrote them, the many generations who have recited them before us and those who will recite them after we have gone.”

This is the Traditional version of the Apostles' Creed as it appears in the United Methodist Hymnal:

I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.

And in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried; the third day he rose again; he ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.  Amen.

Although our hymnal calls it “Traditional,” it is not the original version. In the original version, after he was “crucified, dead and buried,” it says that “he descended into hell.” The Ecumenical version replaces the phrase “descended into hell,” with “descended to the dead.” Our “Traditional” version omits it altogether. 

In the spirit of Eugene Peterson’s “The Message,” I want to offer a paraphrase of the Apostles' Creed:

I believe in God, the Ground of our Being and the Source of all that is.

And in Jesus Christ, the fullest and best revelation of God, who was born into a human family, suffered under the violence of the Empire, was executed for treason and died a human death. He went to God, even as he came from God, and then appeared again to his disciples. By his life and death all things are judged, and in his love the whole world is reconciled to God.

I believe in the Living Spirit of God in the world, and in the Church as Christ’s living presence among us. I believe God accepts us in spite of our brokenness and loves us beyond our imagining, now and forever. Amen.

If I had been starting with a blank slate, I would not have included all of sections included in the Apostles' Creed and I would have said more about how I believe we are called to live the world. I would have said something about my understanding of the Kingdom of God and how we are called to make that a reality on earth. But it is a useful exercise to use the ancient language as a template. 

My guess is that your creed might be different from mine. What would it look like? 

Indiana and the Right to a Dominant Worldview

Indiana Protest Against the Religious Freedom Restoration Act

The time is surely coming, says the Lord God, when I will send a famine on the land; not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.
Amos 8:11

Amos observes the injustice of his people and proclaims that there will be a famine. But this famine will not be about a shortage of food or water. This will be a famine “of hearing the words of the LORD.” If you do not act justly, says Amos, then you will not be able to hear what God is saying to you.

In Indiana there is a famine among some of their political and religious leaders, “not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.”

They are so unaware of the injustice of a worldview that takes for granted the lesser status of LGBTQ citizens, that they cannot hear the words of the Lord in this context. When injustice looks like normal, it is very difficult to see anything else.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel said that a prophet is someone who knows what time it is.

He did not mean time as measured by the clock. And he didn’t mean the sense of timing that we associate with successfully telling a joke or making a political calculation. The role of the prophet is to reflect on the sacred story of what God has done, and what God has called us to do in the world to work for justice, and then by reading the signs of the times, to proclaim what God requires in the present moment.

The prophet Micah asked rhetorically, “What does the LORD require of you?” And then declared the answer, “To do justice and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

In response to Governor Mike Pence’s recent signing of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, United Methodist Bishop Mike Coyner issued a pastoral letter about “Faith and Fear.”

He rightly notes that the measure is not founded on faith or on religion, but on fear. People fear that that their faith is under attack, even though it isn’t. But he wrongly argues that there is an equally misplaced fear on the other side of the issue; that those who fear the law will lead to discrimination are overreacting. In the end, his desire to be fair to both sides gives legitimacy to those who want religious cover for their prejudice.

The law is designed to enable discrimination. It is not unreasonable to fear that the law might do what it is designed to do.

In one sense, the bishop is probably right when he says that it will all turn out to be “much ado about nothing.” It is unlikely that very many vendors will turn away business. It is not the most important thing in the world.

But that is not the point.

The law will do at least two things.

The first and most important result of the law is to reassert the dominance of a worldview that discriminates against LGBT people. Every time they enter into a business transaction, or look for an apartment, or apply for a loan, or apply for a job, they will know that the law says that they can be denied simply because of who they are. That is no small thing.

The second result of this law is that it reinforces the perception that Christians are bigots.

It is time (long past time) for Christians to speak up. This isn’t about sincerely held beliefs on both sides. It is about right and wrong. It is about justice. It is about knowing what time it is.

Faith and Politics in America

"Politics are never ultimate, never absolute. We can and must fight the good fight for a better republic and a better world. But our hope does not depend on any political outcome. Our faith and our hope derive from Jesus Christ, who survives all nations and all politics."

Robert N. Bellah

The Bible is a profoundly political book. The prophets proclaim God’s passion for justice as the foundation of the social order. And the message of Jesus is centered on “the good news of the Kingdom of God.” In the Lord’s Prayer, our first petition is, “Thy Kingdom come.” When the early church spoke of Jesus as “Lord,” and “Savior,” and “Son of God,” they knew that all of these terms were used to apply to the Emperor. And they knew that the Empire had killed Jesus because he was a political threat. When early Christians said that Jesus was “Lord,” they were also saying, “and Caesar is not.”

The Gospel is intensely political and we cannot read it with any measure of intellectual honestly and pretend otherwise. It is about proclaiming a vision of the Kingdom of God. It is about social and economic justice. But we must also remember, as Bellah points out, that the Kingdom of God can never be identified with any single political group or cause, or country. Instead, it is always the standard by which every political plan is judged.

What does this mean for us as Christians in an election year?

First, we need to keep perspective. Near the end of Mark’s Gospel, Jesus speaks of the apocalypse as a time when “the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven.” Elections matter and the choices are real, but regardless of who wins and who loses; this will not be the apocalypse.

Second, we should not assume that those with whom we disagree are lacking in honesty or sincerity or faith. We are not choosing between good and evil; we are choosing between competing visions of the good.

Third, we need to remember that it is always easier to see the speck in the eye of our neighbor (or the opposing candidate) than it is to see the log in our own eye. As Bellah notes, “We can and must fight the good fight for a better republic and a better world.” But we need to be clear that there is a gap between our vision and God’s vision. This does not mean that one idea is as good as another, or that political issues do not matter. It does mean that we should approach political issues with repentance and humility. 

Did You Hear About the United Methodist Minister Who Is an Atheist?

Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, you are there;

if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.

If I take the wings of the morning

and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me,

and your right hand shall hold me fast.

Psalm 137:7-11

Did you hear the joke about the United Methodist Minister who is an atheist? Actually, it’s not a joke, at least not intentionally.

On April 30, NPR (National Public Radio) published a story by Barbara Bradley Hagerty about Teresa MacBain, a United Methodist pastor in Tallahassee, Florida.

"I'm currently an active pastor and I'm also an atheist," MacBain says in the article. "I live a double life. I feel pretty good on Monday, but by Thursday — when Sunday's right around the corner — I start having stomachaches, headaches, just knowing that I got to stand up and say things that I no longer believe in and portray myself in a way that's totally false."

I understand doubt. And I am comfortable with doubt. Tennyson was right, but he didn’t go far enough when he declared, “There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.” In his great book on ‘The Dynamics of Faith,” Paul Tillich argues that authentic faith is best understood as “ultimate concern,” and that doubt is an essential part of faith. Like Tillich, I believe there is more faith in honest doubt than in all the creeds.

But there was little theological depth in the NPR article

We learn that she was raised in a conservative Southern Baptist family, that her dad was a pastor, and that she felt the call of God when she was 6. She had questions about the role of women, and about conflicts in the Bible, and Hagerty reports that “she sometimes felt she was serving a taskmaster of a God, whose standards she never quite met.”

When she became a United Methodist pastor, she asked more questions. She hoped for answers that would strengthen her faith. "In reality," she says, "as I worked through them, I found that religion had so many holes in it, that I just progressed through stages where I couldn't believe it."

Hagerty reports that the questions haunted her: Is Jesus the only way to God? Would a loving God torment people for eternity? Is there any evidence of God at all?

I wonder why she thought she had to believe that Jesus was the only way to God, or that God would torment people for eternity. On the other hand, the last question matters. It would be very hard to be a pastor if you could not see “any evidence of God.”

As I write this I am sitting in my office on a beautiful spring day and down the hall I hear the happy sounds of children in the pre-school. Honestly, that is enough evidence for me.

I don’t mean to dismiss this lightly. But Christian faith is not about believing abstract doctrines or imagining a perfect heavenly being who exists outside of the world and humankind, and yet controls everything that happens. As Tillich wrote in his Systematic Theology, “The protest of atheism against such a highest person is correct. There is no evidence of his existence, nor is he a matter of ultimate concern.”

Today when people, like Teresa MacBain, speak of atheism, what they mean is that they reject the god of narrow biblical literalism. So do I. Christian theologians have given a clearly articulated rejection of that “god” for more than a century.

As a pastor, I find the Teresa MacBain story painful in two ways.

First, it must have been incredibly painful for her congregation. One Sunday when she wasn’t preaching, she went to the American Atheists’ convention in Bethesda, Maryland, and announced to a crowd of 1,500, that she was an atheist. They laughed when she said she was also a United Methodist pastor serving a church, “at least up to this point.” Hundreds of people stood and cheered. She apologized for having been what she called “a hater.” She told them that she used to believe that she was on the right track and they were going to burn in hell. Now, she said, “I'm happy to say as I stand before you right now, I'm going to burn with you."

That’s how her congregation found out. One week she preached a sermon and led worship as usual, and the next week she announced to a national convention that she was an atheist. They deserved better.

Second, it reveals that in the popular imagination, Christian faith is often understood in narrow and rigid ways that are totally lacking in theological depth. The great Methodist preacher, Henry Hitt Crane was a popular speaker on college campuses in the 1950’s. After his lectures he loved to meet with students in their dormitories to discuss the issues of the day. Invariably some brave soul would announce that he or she was an atheist. Dr. Crane would then ask, “Tell me about the god you don’t believe in.” And then after listening to a description of this supernatural being who judged and punished, and directed and controlled everything in the world, he would say, “I don’t believe in that god, either. Let me tell you what I believe.”

That’s a conversation worth having.

It Feels Like Exile

The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of justice of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to provide for those who mourn in Zion— to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, to display his glory.

They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations.

For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.

Isaiah 61:1-4, 11

It feels like Exile.

Of course that is overly dramatic, and I have not ever been in any situation even remotely like the Exile, but still for many United Methodists, watching our General Conference unravel so much that we hold dear and then once again declare that our gay and lesbian (and bi-sexual, and transgender) sisters and brothers are not really welcome, has felt like Exile.

It feels like wilderness and desert. But as Walter Brueggemann observed, it was in the Exile that the Hebrew prophets did their best work. In was in the Exile that hope was born. The Exile gave birth to Rabbinic Judaism, which in the fullness of time gave birth to Christianity.

It is not by accident that the Advent scripture readings bring us back to the Exile. Christianity begins in Exile.

Within the United Methodist Church in East Greenwich, and within thousands of other United Methodist Churches, nothing will change. We will continue to proclaim the grace of God. We will celebrate the wideness in God’s mercy. We will do our best to embody the living presence of Christ in the world. And we will include everyone, even the people who want to exclude us.

But General Conference 2012 has made our job harder. Because some people will read about what happened and think that General Conference speaks for us. In some cases they will ask me what it means and where we stand, and I will do my best to explain it all. In other cases they will just drive by and shake their heads.

Like Israel in Exile, we are called to action, to build up and raise up and repair, and to proclaim “good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of justice of our God.”

In other words, our task today is the same as it was two weeks ago. We are called to be faithful. And we know that God will continue to sustain us. In the words of the Psalmist, “the steadfast love of the LORD endures forever, and God’s faithfulness is to all generations.” Even in what feels like Exile.

“For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.”

Nothing Can Separate Us

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:37-39

Can anything separate us from the love of God?

No, at least according to the Apostle Paul.

In the last verses of the eighth chapter of Paul’s letter to the church in Rome he declares with absolute certainty that nothing can separate us from the love of God, not “hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword” (v.35).

Yesterday the General Conference of the United Methodist Church voted with Paul, but it was closer than you might think.

In the morning session they were revising the Preamble to our United Methodist Social Principles. The Rev. We Hyung Chang, pastor of the Belmont UMC in Belmont, Massachusetts, one of the clergy delegates from New England, proposed that they add this sentence, “We stand united in declaring our faith that God’s grace is available to all, that neither belief nor practice can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.”

This might seem like basic Wesleyan theology. In fact, it might seem like basic Christianity. But among some of the delegates there was a fear that this would somehow soften their declaration that homosexuals and non-Christians really are (by their own choice, of course) separated from the love of God.

The Rev. Lisa Dianne Schubert, a clergy delegate from Indiana proposed that the word “nothing” be substituted for “neither belief nor practice. As she explained, “I want to say like in Romans 8, “nothing can separate us from the love of God.”

But that didn’t stop the debate.

This would be funny if it were not so sad. On the floor of General Conference they were actually debating whether they believed the central affirmation of Paul’s theology.

One delegate from Liberia argued that, “Putting that in there is telling us as Christians that our belief and our practice do not separate us, and that can be far from the truth because then we deny God’s judgment at the end of the ages.” A delegate from Florida argued that Paul was not talking about everyone, he was only talking about “those who are in Christ Jesus.”

But a narrow reading of Paul is just that. And it goes against the inclusive sweep of Paul’s understanding of God’s grace.

One of the deep ironies in the debate is that those who claim to believe the Bible literally (that is a generalization, of course) were willing to sacrifice a literal reading of Romans 8 in order to preserve a literal understanding of a few verses in Leviticus.

In the end, they decided that Paul was right and “nothing can separate us from the love of God.” I’m sure the Apostle was relieved. But as I said earlier, it was closer than you might think; the amendment carried by a vote of 532 to 414.

Richard Dawkins and the Mustard Seed

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” Jesus replied, “If you had faith the size of a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”Luke 17:5-6
The Gospels give us two variations of the teaching about faith “the size of a grain of mustard seed.” In Matthew’s account, Jesus says that with that much faith you can move a mountain. In Luke’s account it’s only a mulberry tree, although to be fair, the mulberry tree would be “planted in the sea,” which is fairly impressive.

The teaching is not meant to be taken literally. The point is that it does not take very much faith to accomplish great things. In Luke’s story, Jesus has been teaching about forgiveness, and he has just told them that they must forgive one another without limit. This seems impossible and so they plead with him to “increase our faith!” His answer is simple, they don’t need more faith, they just need to use the faith that they have.

A mustard seed is tiny. It is so small that if you pick one up and hold it between your thumb and forefinger, you can’t see it. If you press your fingers together enough to hold the seed, it completely disappears. So we can imagine Jesus holding up the seed, and his disciples realizing that they cannot even see it.

I was reminded of the mustard seed story when I read an article in The Christian Century about a public debate between the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, and atheist Richard Dawkins. The audience was surprised to hear Dawkins concede a bit of doubt about his conviction that there is no such thing as a creator. But he quickly qualified that by saying that he was still “6.9 out of seven” certain of his long-held belief.

There must be some anecdote that would explain why he chose “6.9 out of seven” rather than ninety-nine out of a hundred, or 999 out of a thousand. But in Jesus’ terms “.1 out of seven” or one in a hundred, or even one in a thousand, would be bigger than “a grain of mustard seed.”

Although the story of the mustard seed is typically understood as a reassurance for those who think that their faith is weak, that’s not how Jesus uses it. The disciples are stuck on believing, and he is focused on doing. It’s not about how much faith they have, it’s about how much they use.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer said that many times Christians explain their inactivity in terms of doubt. If they were sure that to follow Jesus they really needed to take a stand on an issue, or support a cause, or give themselves sacrificially, then they would do it. If they were sure of God’s presence, then they would do great things. Bonhoeffer insisted that our problem is not faith, it is obedience. Doubt is our excuse for inaction.

The great evangelist, E. Stanley Jones, was often questioned about his close friendship with Mahatma Gandhi. Critics wondered how he could be so friendly with someone who had rejected Christianity. Jones explained that although Gandhi did not believe nearly as much as they did, everything he believes, he does!

Ordinary People

"They love to have the place of honor at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have people call them rabbi. But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father—the one in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah. The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted."Matthew 23:6-12
Yesterday I picked up copies of my medical records from one specialist, in order to bring them to another specialist. As I walked to my car I started reading the report, which began by saying, “Mr. Trench is a very pleasant 63 year old man . . .”

Ouch.

Of course, it could have been worse. Pleasant is better than unpleasant. In fairness to the doctor, he meant no harm. And I guess I could be happy about the “very.”

But I don’t think I have ever been described as “very pleasant.” It was a humbling moment to recognize that in the eyes of this specialist, I was just a “very pleasant 63 year old man” with a collection of symptoms. Even on the basis of a short interview, I would hope to be more than that.

Shortly after I went through the defense of my dissertation and received official confirmation that I had earned a Ph.D., I shared the good news with my grandmother. Her first question was when can you use it? I told her I could use it right away, and asked if she wanted me to explain Kant’s Categorical Imperative. “No,” she said, “I mean when do people start calling you ‘doctor’?”

Three are at least two lessons here. I am one of the privileged ones. I am often “greeted with respect in the marketplaces.” Within our church family, I tend to avoid formalities. I tell the adults to call me, “Bill,” and the kids to call me, “Pastor Bill.” I don’t want to be introduced as “Reverend” or “Doctor.” But giving up a title is very different from having it taken away. The first lesson is, it’s probably good for me to have that experience.

The second lesson is that lots of people go through life without getting much respect. Some do jobs where they get very little affirmation. Others live with disabilities. Some are faced with circumstances which deny any possibility of what we call success. I was experiencing something that others experience for a lifetime.

The truth is that no one is ordinary. Each of us is special and unique.

Years ago I was asked to do a funeral for a man who did not belong to our church. I went to the calling hours at the funeral home, out of respect for the family and because I know that during that time I can often get a sense of who the person is. I stood in line to pray at the casket and to greet the family. When I knelt at the casket I could hear the family talking with friends about this man whom I had never met, and about how special he had been to them. And I prayed silently, “Lord, do not let me trivialize this life.”

Jimmy Carter and Biblical Christianity

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”Matthew 5:11-12
Jimmy Carter has probably endured more ridicule than any other living President of the United States. He is the punch line of a thousand jokes.

One of the things I admire about him is that he doesn’t seem to care. Not caring what people think about you is not a helpful character trait in a politician. And the truth is that he never was a very good politician. But he is a remarkably faithful Christian. His statements and actions seem odd to many political commentators because Christianity is at odds with popular politics and culture.

Paul Brandeis Raushenbush, Senior Religion Editor for the Huffington Post, and great grandson of Walter Rauschenbusch, one of the greatest leaders of the Social Gospel, recently interviews President Carter about his new book, “NIV Lessons from Life Bible: Personal Reflections with Jimmy Carter.” I want to share two of those exchanges.

When asked about whether gays and lesbians should be accepted in the church, he gave a direct, yet measured response:

“Homosexuality was well known in the ancient world, well before Christ was born and Jesus never said a word about homosexuality. In all of his teachings about multiple things -– he never said that gay people should be condemned. I personally think it is very fine for gay people to be married in civil ceremonies.

“I draw the line, maybe arbitrarily, in requiring by law that churches must marry people. I’m a Baptist, and I believe that each congregation is autonomous and can govern its own affairs. So if a local Baptist church wants to accept gay members on an equal basis, which my church does by the way, then that is fine. If a church decides not to, then government laws shouldn’t require them to.”
In another exchange, Raushenbush noted President Carter’s commitment to peacemaking, and then asked how he interpreted Jesus’ declaration that he came, “not to bring peace, but a sword.” Carter responded:

“For the last 35 or more years, my wife and I have read the Bible last thing every night and just last week we read that passage and discussed it a little bit. . . . He was predicting what would happen, that his teachings might cause divisions among people as they decided to follow God’s ordained duties such as peace, humility, service to others, alleviation of suffering, forgiveness -- when we face those conflicts, we should adhere to the principles that never change, to the moral values that are taught through religion.”
Peace, humility, service to others, alleviation of suffering, forgiveness—those are not qualities that we often find in our leaders. And when we find them, we do not value them.

Tim Tebow's Very Public Faith

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked,
or take the path that sinners tread,
or sit in the seat of scoffers;
but their delight is in the law of the LORD,
and on his law they meditate day and night.
They are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season,
and their leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.Psalm 1:1-3
The most hated man in the National Football League right now is Tim Tebow, quarterback of the Denver Broncos, who has led his team to seven improbable, almost miraculous victories, in the last eight games.

It seems like every other caller on the sports talk shows is phoning in to say how much they despise him. Hating Tim Tebow has become a national pastime.

Callers are irate that Tebow seems to begin every interview by saying, “First, I’d like to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” And they hate it that almost every success is quickly followed by dropping to one knee in prayer. This act of spontaneous prayer has been labeled, “Tebowing.” The Global Language Monitor, a website which monitors global language trends, has announced that “Tebowing” has officially entered the English language. One definition says that Tebowing is getting down on one knee and praying even if everyone around you is doing something completely different.

I don’t share Tim Tebow’s theology, and we would disagree on a wide variety of social issues, but as a football player, he is fun to watch, and I think the world could use at least a little more “Tebowing.” Wouldn’t it be great if more people would get down on one knee and pray when everyone around them was doing something completely different?

Given the variety of unpleasant things professional athletes have said in post-game interviews and the number of unpleasant gestures we see at football games, it is hard to see how Tebow’s public profession of faith can generate so much hostility. Praying on one knee is way better than a lot of the touchdown celebrations we see.

But the irate callers insist that it is simply not appropriate at football games. They don’t go to football games to see people pray. And they don’t need a football player telling them what to believe.

For his part, Tebow seems unfazed by the furor. When a reporter asked him how he felt about so many people saying they hated him, he said simply, “I’m living my dream. I’ve dreamed of playing professional football since I was seven years old. I don’t care what they say.” He is cheerful and respectful and polite.

Tebow’s pastor, Wayne Hanson, who pastors the Summit Church in Suburban Denver, says that the Broncos are winning because of their quarterback’s faith. “It’s not luck,” Hanson said. “Luck isn’t winning six games in a row. It’s favor. God’s favor.” He believes that the Broncos would not be winning if God had not decided to reward Tebow for his faithfulness.

Tebow himself seems to have a more mature theological understanding than his pastor, and he has consistently rejected those sorts of pronouncements. He is happy and he clearly delights in his faith. But he does not claim divine favor in his successes. He talks about a team that believes in itself and teammates who believe in each other. He talks about the strength of the Denver defense and about how he is just trying to do his part.

In the strange world of talk radio, callers at one end of the dial were calling the sports show to say how much they despised Tim Tebow’s religion on the football field, while at the other end of the dial callers were phoning the public affairs show to say how much they despised Lincoln Chafee for keeping religion out of the tree lighting at the State House.

How weird is that?