Monday, November 8, 2010

Sunday 11/7 Reflection


In the sermon and service, I wanted to reflect on just who we call Saint. We don’t talk a lot about saints in the presbyterian church, so I hoped to shed some light on how we might see saints at Madison Square.
The traditional way of choosing a saint, involves a very extensive process that includes proof of miracles and canonization by the Pope. Oh yes, one must be Catholic. The reformation brought some changes in interpretation. Luther strongly opposed the Catholic understanding of saint (see my previous post). For Luther, all Christians were saints. For me though, this still seems limiting. If a saint is someone that God’s light and love shines through, then who are we to say who God uses. A buddhist saint? Why not. An athiest saint? I’m sure. How about the lowly, the poor, those who weep, those who hunger? Yes, I am sure of it.

I especially loved the music this Sunday. The songs chosen by the choir were a beautiful reflection on saints. And I loved the hymn we sang to end out service, I Sing a Song of the Saints of God, what a strange little ditty.
With lines like:
            And one was a soldier and one was a priest, and one was slain by a fierce wild beast!
Who was slain by a fierce wild beast??? I wanna know!
But I do love the last line of each verse that says:
            For the saints of God are just folk like me, and I mean to be one too.


Notes from my sermons: Un Dia de Los Santos
Last Sunday, was Halloween-All Hollow’s Eve. Hallows means Saints. Makes sense then that November 1st is All Saint’s Day…a day to remember all saints known and unknown…Which in some religious circles doesn’t include you and me.

So November 2nd was named All Souls Day for the rest of us.
In our Presbyterian church calendar you will find that All Souls Day is not celebrated…since we are a little more open to whom we call the saints of the church.

Maybe that is the reason I love Dia de los Muertos, the Latin American version of this time that mushes together the celebrations of All Saints and All Souls. Dia de los Muertos celebrates that there is a little bit of the santo and sinner, holy and muerto in each of us.

Un Dia de los Santos…the incredible truth of All Santos Day is that every one of us is a saint in the eyes of God. We do not have to pass some sanctification test to be a saint in the eyes of God.  God choose us, God claims us, to be vessels through whom the light shines.

When I began my study on the scripture for this Sunday, my mind went to Saint John.
When I was a 9 or 10, John was not a particularly holy man.
Not an ardent defender of the poor. Not a figure of deep wisdom.
He was just another odd friend of my older brother, who seemed to gather around him a strange group of
freaks and geeks, jocks and glee clubers that had nothing in common except that my brother was their friend.

John was not what we called back then “cool”, his clothes were not hip or modern, they looked more like he picked them from a pile with no care for color or pattern, wrinkle or stain. His eyes were bad, so bad that he wore thick glasses that were always oily and dirty.

I am embarrassed to admit that my sister and I found it fun to laugh at John…to make fun of the way he talked and dressed, his lack of intelligence and social skill.
That is…until my brother caught us one time, and explained that John didn’t have any other friends at school and was regularly picked on.
He said that John had a very tough family life.
That’s why he liked being with our mom and family.
That’s why John ate a lot of dinners at our house and spent so much time at our house.
But my brother also said, for all his shortcomings, John was the most loyal friend anyone could have.
That he would do anything for any of us. And maybe we should think of all that before we thought to make fun of him.

It is an All Saints miracle, that somehow, John showed me something about God.
What I learned through my adolescence, high school and college years, as John became part of our families life.
Is that, for all his lowly behavior, John simply cared.  He cared for people, no matter how they responded or reacted to him. And he seemed to care for a wide range of people.
I learned that to speak with the lowly John Jeffries was to experience a freedom from pretension or anxiety.
There was no need to impress him, or to brag, or even to complain or ask for things.
His emptiness provided a safe place for me to know myself, to know life, and, indeed, to know God.

The first verse of the Beatitudes, according to Luke says: "Blessed are you who are poor; for yours is the reign of God." I thought about John when I heard this verse. He was poor materially…during his early life with his father there wasn’t much to go around and he struggled financially in his adult life after high school when he was on his own. Later in his life, he was often poor spiritually. He was truly low…depressed, although we didn’t know it. Those last 10 years of his life we didn’t see him much, but when we did you could tell his spirit had been crushed….that he was poor and alone. Come on by and say hi, my parents would encourage when we bumped into him. I will, I will…he would say.

Biblical scholars have long pointed out the curious difference between the Beatitudes according to Luke, and the Beatitudes according to Matthew. Most of us recite Matthew's version: "Blessed are the poor in spirit."
Luke's version, the one we read today, is starker and more bare; there we read, "Blessed are the poor." Period.

Blessed are the poor. Blessed are the poor in spirit. A saint will be someone who knows emptiness.
Someone who needs no pretense or deceit. So today I remember Saint John. 

Some of you may be uncomfortable with my naming a saint that has taken his own life.
But let me simply remind you of the faith statement from scripture that is central to my faith in God…Romans 8
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, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

It is not just the radiantly holy and the astoundingly wise who are saints.
Not just the pure in heart and those with 100% church attendance.
Saints are the people God’s light shines through.
Blessed are the saints.
Blessed are you who are poor, said Jesus.
Blessed are you who hunger and thirst,
Blessed are you who weep.
Blessed are those who mourn.
Blessed are the meek.
Blessed are the peacemakers.

Saints that are not just the stars, not just those whose works have outshone rest.
But most of us are not superstar saints.
We are those who mourn and weep, who are hungry and thirsty for things.
The saints I have known, whether poor or rich, weeping or laughing, hungry or full, have somehow pointed me to God in whatever they have been experiencing.
The saints are those, in every generation, who show us God's love affair with humanity.

Here at Madison Square, we've known a lot more saints than just the famous ones. We have known the non-descript, the bumbling, and the inept ones. The justly proud and the overly humble.  The wonderfully capable and the woefully decrepit. We've known the poor in spirit, those who are empty enough to show us God.
At some point, each of them has provided a space for us to know God.
We have known Saint John, over and over again.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Scripture for Sunday

This Sunday we will not use the lectionary for the day, but instead the passages for All Saints Day.
Scriptures:


Luke 6:20-31
6:20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the Reign of God.
6:21 "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. "Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
6:22 "Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Messiah.
6:23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
6:24 "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.
6:25 "Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. "Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.
6:26 "Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
6:27 "But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,
6:28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.
6:29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt.
6:30 Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.
6:31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.

In the Gospel reading from Luke 6 for All Saints Day, Jesus identifies the blessed in stark terms.  These words attributed to Jesus begin his "Sermon on the Mount" in Matthew (5:1-7:29) and his "Sermon on the Plain" in Luke (6:17-49). Luke's version of the address is briefer, more sharply stated, marked by contrasts between "you" who are blessed and "you" who are judged/damned. In Luke, Jesus spoke directly to his followers. Matthew's version is preferred for its poetic elegance. In Luke's account, this is Jesus' second major policy statement of his reign (see also Luke 4:14-30) in the force of prophetic address.

Jesus' direct speech is disquieting, compelling the listener to ask, "Who me?"
Jesus focuses first on his disciples (6:20) within "a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon" (6:17). With the crowds, we overhear his words, wondering if he means it only for the twelve. Then we find ourselves specifically included in verse 27 among "you that listen." Jesus is not delivering an abstract definition of discipleship or sainthood. He is not listing the qualifications to "get into heaven." He is calling all to hear to become faithful and effective agents of God's reign here and now.

The Festival of All Saints dates to May 13, 609 (or maybe 610) when Pope Boniface IV consecrated the Pantheon in Rome to the Blessed Virgin and all the martyrs. Pope Gregory III is credited with first moving the festival to its present date of November 1. After the Reformation, the celebration was retained in Anglican and most Lutheran churches.

So who is a saint?
In the Roman Catholic tradition, someone receiving the title of “Saint” has been officially recognized by the Catholic Church (canonized) and therefore believed to be in Heaven. Leonard Foley, OFM, editor of the book Saint of the Day, says of saints that their “…surrender to God’s love was so generous an approach to the total surrender of Jesus that the Church recognizes them as heroes or heroines worthy to be held up for our inspiration. They remind us that the Church is holy, can never stop being holy and is called to show the holiness of God by living the life of Christ.”

Luther would expand the idea of sainthood to include all Christians on earth and in heaven. In Luther’s Commentary on Galatians (1531), Luther says:
When we have repudiated this foolish and wicked notion about the name “saints” which we suppose applies only to the saints in heaven, and on earth to hermits and monks who perform some sort of spectacular work let us now learn from the writings of the apostles that all believers in Christ are saints (Luther’s Works 27:83).
For Luther, it was nothing the Christian does of his or her own accord that made for saintliness; it was through Jesus that we are made holy.

So, in other words, saints are not called saints because they are without sin or have become saintly through works, but rather through the Spirit that flows through us into the world.

Pastor Sharon Lewis writes, “As we remember the saints who have gone before, who have lived lives of faith, and who struggled with the temptations and evil of the world, let us also remember as we look around, that we are in the company of saints. So when one of God’s people asks you who and what a “saint” really is, you may look that person in the eye and say “Saint who? Saint YOU—everyday saint and sinner, made holy through God.”




    Tuesday, November 2, 2010

    Sunday 10/31 Sermon Reflection


    What kind of person are you?
    Are you the kind that will humbly admit when you are wrong?
    Simply say, “I was wrong.” “I was misinformed.”
    “I didn’t know.” “Thank you for educating me.”

    Or…do you stick to your guns…even when you begin to realize you are wrong.
    Will you try to win an argument even though you know you are wrong?
    How far are you willing to go to protect a flawed idea?
    Or to overlook a mistaken assumption?
    Or to keep intact a broken theory?

    Global Climate Change…
    The Presidents Birth Certificate…
    Weapons of Mass Destruction…
    Larry King is a robot…oh, that one is just me?
    /////////////
    When it comes to some of our cherished theological formulas, apparently many of us are willing to go pretty far.

    Mark Marty reminded me of Galileo who’s achievements in the 17th century, included:
    ·      building the first high-powered astronomical telescope;
    ·      showing that the velocities of falling bodies are not proportional to their weights;
    ·      coming up with the ideas behind Newton's laws of motion;
    ·      and confirming the Copernican theory of the solar system.
    All those things we learned in school as fact, but…
    because he believed that the planets revolved around the sun, and not the Earth, Galileo was denounced as a heretic by the church in Rome.
    And if Galileo was correct, then the church and it’s teachings, that the earth was the center of the universe was wrong…and that just couldn’t be.
    Galileo faced the Inquisition and was forced to renounce those beliefs publicly…of course his theories proved to be correct.

    So how long did it take the church to admit they were wrong?
    The Vatican officially acquitted Galileo in 1993, 360 years after his indictment.
    Now that is stubborn ignorance in the face of truth.

    Another, case in point could be this story about Zacchaeus,
    which I – and apparently most interpreters over the ages – have taught to be a classic repentance story.

    You know how the story goes…
    Zaccheaus, this wee little man, goes searching for Jesus.
    But Jesus is searching for him, he has some explaining to do, he’s been a bad man…just listen to the grumbling crowd. Zacchaeus, means "clean" or "innocent,” but as a tax collector, he is un-clean and a sinner. No respectable person, no observant, faithful person should go to Zacchaeus’ home and eat with him. But, praise Jesus, Zacchaeus realizes his sins, confesses, repents and is forgiven. Jesus proclaims, “Look salvation has come to this house for he too is a descendent of Abraham and Sarah.”

    Great story, with it’s own song to boot! All about the need to confess so God can forgive you and you can receive salvation. But in the spirit of a faith reformed, always in need of being reformed… what if this isn't what the story is about at all?

    You see there is some disagreement on how to translate this passage.
    It’s a minor change to a sentence but possibly a major change to the meaning of the story.
    Bruce Malina points out that the verb tenses here for "give" and "pay back" are present tense, and NOT future tense as shown in most English translations: "will give," "will pay back." So contrary to most contemporary translations (including both the NRSV and NIV), the tense of the verbs in Zacchaeus' declaration in the 8th verse are present tense, not future tense. The affect this has on the story is this…now Zacchaeus isn't pledging, "Look, half of my possessions I will give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much."

    That’s the way we grew up being told the story,  but what if instead, Zacchaeus is boasting (probably in response to the grumbling of the crowd),
    "Look, half of my possessions I give to the poor...[and] I pay back four times" – as in right now, already, as a matter of practice.

    The Message actually has an honest translation of Verses 7-8:
    Everyone who saw the incident was indignant and grumped, "What business does he have getting cozy with this crook?"
    Zacchaeus just stood there, a little stunned. He stammered apologetically, "Master, I give away half my income to the poor—and if I'm caught cheating, I pay four times the damages."

    Richard Swanson writes in his book, Provoking the Gospel of Luke, “The surprise in this story is that the outcast is the observant one. This is a scene of revelation, not of redemption."

    So what's going on with the disagreement in tense?
    Well, it turns out those who translate the verbs as future tense appeal to a grammatical category called a present-future tense or futuristic present.
    The funny thing with this interpretation is…if you look in Greek grammer, it will tell you there is this thing called a futuristic present, that sometimes the present tense is used to explain future actions…and then it will say…see Luke 19:8.

    Yes, that's right: the only occurrence of this verb tense is Luke 19:8. Rather than translate this sentence in the present tense – which of course would not fit with interpreting this as a repentance scene – a new grammatical category has been created that occurs once and only once.

    So what's up with that?
    Well, maybe they are right and this is the only place this present future tense is used…
    But it could also be… some flawed ideas die hard, and one of the most cherished Christian ideas is that you have to repent, ask for forgivness, to receive God’s forgiveness.

    Notice that Zacchaeus does not repent of his occupation; he does not give up being a chief tax collector. Like all of us, Zacchaeus remains compromised, impure, sinning.
     One possible moral of this story is to realize that salvation does not require, nor result in, perfection. Salvation in this lifetime is not about the end state. Salvation is the process, the healing and reconciling that is needed for creating right relationships within which compromised, impure, and sinful people - like us - can live within, in response to, and toward, the realm of God.
    Many of us struggle to imagine that God would just forgive sin, apart from some meaningful repentance.
    After all, if God just forgave us, what would become of God's justice?

    What if, however,  God doesn't care as much about justice as we do?
    That is, what if justice wasn't the primary category God uses all along?
    Maybe justice is our way of tracking each other,
    our way of defining each other,
    our way of keeping count, of keeping score,
    of following who's in and who's out,
    who's up and who's down.
    If this is so, if God's love regularly trumps God's justice –
    and I believe this is Jesus life and death message –
    then we're operating with flawed categories.

    God, Jesus, the whole biblical story, as it turns out, isn't primarily about justice but about relationship, God's deep, abiding, tenacious desire to be in relationship with each and all of us.

    Friday, October 29, 2010

    The Scripture for Sunday 10/31


    Protestants chose October 31, the day Luther posted 95 Thesis on Indulgences to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany, to celebrate the beginning of the Reformation. The reformation was the movement that articulated many doctrines and liturgical practices of the church in new and often controversial ways. And the movement resulted in the formation of many of the churches that we now know as Protestant, and the divisions that were created at that time remain in many cases to this day. As important as it is to retrace and celebrate the history of our particular churches, it is also important to acknowledge the fragmentation of the church, the body of Christ, and yearn for the day when God might reign over a dominion not divided by walls. It is possible to celebrate the good of the Reformation and at the same time express sorrow over our inability to heal the deep divisions in the body of Christ. For Presbyterians it is also important to not simply see the reformation solely as an historical event in the past, but as a living movement. One of the Presbyterian Church’s foundational statements is, Ecclesia remormata, semper reformanda…The church reformed, always in need of reforming.

    Where is the church called to reform today?
    Becoming a fully welcoming church?
    Open to ordination and full inclusion (marriage) of the glbt community?
    But how do we do with people of special needs…dietary, hearing, seeing, in wheelchairs or not able to make it to church?
    What percentage of our budget is for administration? Property? Helping others?
    How might worship need to be reformed?
    Or our thinking and speaking of God?

    Matthew Fox wrote a modern day  “95 Theses or Articles of Faith for a Christianity for the Third Millennium” you might find interesting as you ponder a modern reformation.

    John Shelby Spong also has written an article titled A Call for a New Reformation that is very interesting.


    Scripture
    ·       Gospel Luke 19:1-10
    1Jesus entered Jericho and was passing through it. 2A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. 3He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. 4So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. 5When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today." 6So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. 7All who saw it began to grumble and said, "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner." 8Zacchaeus stood there and said to Jesus, "Look, half of my possessions I give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I always pay back four times as much." 9Then Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because Zacchaeus is also a child of Abraham and Sarah. 10For the Human One came to seek out and to save the lost."


    One last outcast on the way to Jerusalem: Zacchaeus, whose name means "clean" or "innocent," is, assumed to be , unclean and a sinner by those in the story and those listening.  Jesus is really the main character in this story about Zacchaeus. While the tax collector is seeking him, Jesus is seeking Zacchaeus, this "non-person" shunned and hated by the crowd. The people and the listener, of course feel, have good reason for their judging the tax collector, since tax collectors are traitors, instruments of Rome's oppression, and this is a "chief" tax collector. (We may all be sinners, but this one is a really bad.) He's also rich, so he has presumably extracted his wealth from his own people. A few chapters back, though, we learned that "the lost" are dear to the heart of God, in stories of lost sheep, lost coins, a lost son, all worth going after and looking for because they are so greatly valued by the seeker. "Not simply clever or perplexing stories," these accounts "live at the heart of God's purpose of salvation," Sharon Ringe writes (Luke, Westminster Bible Companion). Zacchaeus may be hated by the crowd, but he is loved and valued by Jesus, who has come to find him. It is "who Jesus is" to seek the lost, including us: it is his mission.

    This is also a story about joy, a theme that runs through the Gospel of Luke just as much as the theme of reversals. Zacchaeus is happy, not afraid, to welcome Jesus into his home. It's a new day for the tax collector, who feels God's mercy and love reaching him through the love and acceptance of Jesus.  Zacchaeus joyfully welcomes Jesus, and gives away extravagantly more than what is required, "symbolizing his independence from his money," writes Charles Cousar (Texts for Preaching Year C).

    What kind of trust is necessary to offer half of our possessions to the poor?
    What sort of experience would inspire that kind of trust?

    Bt is it Jesus' visit, and the grace of God, that moves Zaccaeus to promise to give away half of his money to the poor and to make lavish restitution where needed. They translate his verbs in the future tense. Others claim that a present tense is appropriate, and that Zacchaeus is honestly claiming to be an observant Jew. Richard Swanson presses this case persuasively, writing about the ritual of separation and exclusion necessary to mark off a faithful Israel, the ritual of hospitality that makes it an honor for Jesus to visit; and the ritual of caring for the poor, which is really "binding the world together." The surprise in this story is that the outcast is the observant one. "This is a scene of revelation, not of redemption" (Provoking the Gospel of Luke). Yes, it's the grace of God at work, but perhaps God has been working on Zacchaeus for quite a while. And John Pilch believes Zacchaeus is describing his "repeated, customary practice," not something he's going to start doing now: Zacchaeus "converted earlier and was misjudged by the grumbling Pharisees. Even in antiquity the only exercise some people got was jumping to conclusions" (The Cultural World of Jesus).

    Tuesday, October 26, 2010

    Sundays Sermon Reflection

    Scripture from Sunday: Luke 18:10-14a
    Sermon: Walk Lightly

    While I had planned on focusing on prayer for a second Sunday, the sermon had a life of it’s own. As I researched for my sermon I was struck by how many commentaries pitted the Pharisee against the Tax Collector, bad Pharisee vs. good Tax Collector. Oh how we love to pile it on those bad Pharisee’s and love finding a tax collector with a heart of gold. But by judging the Pharisee, At least I’m not like you.” , are we not like the Pharisee. 

     
    I especially enjoyed this reflection from Paul D Duke is pastor of the Kirkwood Baptist Church in Kirkwood, Missouri, and coauthor of Anguish and the Word: Preaching That Touches Pain

    THE PARABLE about the Pharisee and the tax collector neglects to mention that the Pharisee was singing "Amazing Grace" on his way to church that day. Or that as he said his prayer, there were tears in his eyes. He feels this stuff. He is awash with religious emotion, truly moved to gratitude for the life God has blessed him to live. Ask him on his way out what he thinks of the tax collector, and he will tell you, "There but for the grace of God go I." He will even think that he means it.

    The parable also neglects to point out that the tax collector, when he has wiped his eyes, blown his nose and gone home, will not be quitting his shady job. He can't see any options; it's a nasty business, but he's stuck in it. Tomorrow he'll again take money from his neighbors, hand some of it over to the empire and put some aside for himself.

    To see the Publican as honorable and the Pharisee as a creep makes the story false, curdles it to a dishonest (and easily anti-Semitic) morality tale and sends us straight into the trap of saying, "God, we thank you that we are not like this Pharisee!" Better to see him as he is—a thoroughly decent, generous, committed man—and to see the Publican as a compromised, certified stinker.

    I know which character my church depends on. I know which one pays the bills, teaches the lesson, visits the sick, feeds the hungry. I'd love a churchful of people with his commitments—people who care enough to fast, people who tithe on all their income and who thank God that they can. As in Jesus' day, it's people like the Pharisee who hold the community together and keep the faith with diligence and passion. We can't color him sinister. He's not J. R. Ewing in a choir robe. He's a better man than I am, and probably better than you.

    And is his prayer really so bad? It's very close to some classic prayers of gratitude from that time, including: "I give you thanks, O Lord my God . . . that you have not set my portion with those who sit in street corners," and "Praised be the God who did not make me a heathen . .. [and] who did not make me an uneducated man." Is the psalmist wrong to pray, "I have avoided the ways of the violent"? (17:3). Why not gaze on the mystery of having been spared a certain lot or a certain sin, and give honest thanks?

    But there is a word in his prayer that is outside the Jewish form, and that one little word gives him away. He doesn't give thanks that God has spared him from being a thief, rogue, adulterer or tax collector; he gives thanks that he is not like them. "God, I thank you that I am not like other people ..." Really? Here he crosses from the grammar of gratitude into the grammar of elitism. It can be a very subtle line and we almost never notice when we cross it, but we do it all the time. What betrays us is an unexamined refusal of kinship. It shows every time we use us-them language. 

    I decided I wanted to focus on that confidence of the Pharisee, so sure he is that he knows the mind of God and how this still seems to be the sin of the church, of religions and faiths. Too often we are convinced that we hold the truth to what God is saying, and yet all too often the words we put in God's mouth contradict the words others put in God's mouth. So let's stop saying, "Thus sayeth the Lord" and start saying, "It is our opinion." Nicholas of Cusa's Learned Ignorance is an interesting theological stand. In Nicholas' scheme - the dumbest people are those who think they know, their certainty about what is true, not only pits them against one another, it also prevents them from learning anything new.  That is truly dangerous knowledge. They do not know that they do not know.  And their unlearned ignorance keeps them in the dark about most of the things that matter. To know that you do not know is the beginning of wisdom.

    Wouldn't it be amazing, I found myself thinking if religious leaders everywhere called a press conference and joined hands in a confession of learned ignorance. A humble, graceful act of theological modesty before the infinite mystery that is God.

     If just Christians stopped using concepts of truth against one another.  Stopped saying, “Thus sayeth the Lord.”  And instead learned to say, “It is our opinion that…”


    Monday, October 25, 2010

    On Using Inclusive Langauge with Reference to the People of God and Expansive Language with Reference to God



    Language is powerful. Language is one of the major ways that we convey meaning and influence thought and behavior. Gender inclusive language recognizes that all people, irrespective of gender identity, are full and valued participants in our society. It does not portray women or men as being dependent, or in a stereotyped manner. It does not trivialize, denigrate or hide the experiences of a particular gender.

    The General Assembly adopted publication, Definitions and Guidelines on Inclusive Language,  explains it this way, “A concern for inclusive language bespeaks the church’s emerging conviction both that the diversity of the people of God is to be acknowledged and embraced in such a way that all may feel included, as well as the realization that every reference to God is limited in its capacity to express the reality and mystery of the One who has so variously encountered us.”

    Why do we use expansive language with reference to God?
    Again, from Definitions and Guidelines on Inclusive Language, “Our language about God should be as intentionally diverse and varied as is that of the Bible and our theological tradition. This diversity should be reflected in the language and life of the church. Rather than using only a very small number of terms referring to God (e.g.,“Father,” “Creator,” “Lord,” “Almighty”), we should seek to employ the rich reservoir of imagery to be found in the New and Old Testaments”

    “What is the right way to speak about God? This is a question of unsurpassed importance, for speech to and about the mystery that surrounds human lives and the universe itself is a key activity of a community of faith. In that speech the symbol of God functions as the primary symbol of the whole religious system, the ultimate point of reference for understanding experience, life, and the world. Hence the way in which a faith community shapes language about God implicitly represents what it takes to be the highest good, the profoundest truth, the most appealing beauty. Such speaking, in turn, powerfully molds the corporate identity of the community and directs its praxis” (Johnson, Elizabeth A. She Who Is (New York: Crossroad), 1992, pp. 3–4).

    At Madison Square language is important to us. Many in our congregation have experienced language used in exclusive ways often with the purpose of judging or demeaning. In our education, curriculum, publications, liturgy and sermons we strive to use to use language that is inclusive of the People of God and expansive with reference to God.

    General Assembly Actions
    The General Assembly (GA) took action in 1971, 1973, 1975, 1976, 1978, 1980, 1984, 1985, 1986, 1987, 1998 and 2000 encouraging the use of inclusive language in worship, education, publications, and theological and biblical reflection.

    1979 GA 191 received the paper “The Power of Language Among the People of God and the Language about God” and commended its use to the Church as a resource document.

    1985 GA 197 adopted “Definitions and Guidelines on Inclusive Language.”

    1998 GA 210 asked moderators of governing bodies to renew their commitment to “Definitions and Guidelines” and the Advocacy Committee for Women’s Concerns
    requested that the Office of Theology and Worship assess the current status of the
    church on inclusive language policy.

    2000 GA 212 reaffirmed “Definitions and Guidelines on Inclusive Language” and requested the Office of Theology and Worship make it available churchwide.

    Thursday, October 21, 2010

    Scriptures for Sunday


    Scriptures for Sunday
    ·       Psalm Psalm 65:1-13
    ·       Gospel Luke 18:9-14

    Primary Focus: Luke 18:9-14
    9He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ 13But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” 

    The scholars of the Jesus Seminar, in the The Five Gospels, point out that the introduction (v.9) and concluding remarks (v.14b) are editorial remarks against self-righteous pride and in favor of the virture of humility. The parable itself (vv. 10-14a) compares and contrast the prayers of two people...one seen as righteous by the traditional religious practices of the day. The other would be seen by most Judeans of the day as unrighteous, dishonest, disloyal and disregarding of religious duty.

    Whether the parable itself was told by Jesus is an unsettled debate. Many feel the story is a product of the Jesus Movement. This is the only parable that has one character be a Pharasee. This is also the only time the term "justified" is used in the gospels with reference to an individual. Paul, on the other hand, loves to use the term "justified" in his letters, so this, it is argued, indicates that the parable is more reflective of the early Christian movement.

    Raymond Bailey draws an uncomfortable comparison between Pharisees and "good elders, stewards, or deacons. They are the ones who do the work of the church and provide the financial support necessary to support religious institutions.  Pharisees were devoted to God and righteousness, and most of their faults were the result of overstriving for holiness. Their zeal was often misguided, but at least they had zeal in their desire to please God". When religion became the end instead of the means (as it so often can) these leaders could easily lose their way, as the Pharisee praying in the Temple evidently did. The same pitfall on the journey of faith endangers us in the church today.

    Who are those, in our churches, in our denomination, in our society, from whom we stand apart when we pray? 

    Whichever side we are on, in any question raging in the life of the church, how is God calling us to find that common ground of radical dependence on God’s grace that enables us to pray together, recognizing ourselves, whether Pharisee (religiously righteous in our practices) or tax collector (living outside the bounds of proper society and rules)? 

    What issues divide us and keep us from this kind of shared prayer, this kind of shared recognition tha we all belong to God? 

    And if we do belong to God, how can we leave church this day, thanking God that we are not like that prideful, self-righteous Pharisee?