Simple Questions

Could it be that God's Word intends not to give us easy answers and shortcuts to confidence and authority, but rather to reduce us again and again, to a posture of wonder, humility, rebuke, and smallness in the face of the unknown? Brian McClaren - A New Kind of Christianity

I don't normally blog about sermons series that I'm doing.  I have always thought that people interested in what I had to say from the pulpit would either come hear the sermon, or listen to it on the web site.  I am breaking that rule today, because I think the series for June is one that we could all relate to.  In June, we are going to be looking at 3 different instances where Jesus was asked seemingly simple questions, and gave answers so deep and profound that each time his challenger/questioner was sent away "amazed" or "astonished."  

I'm not going to get into the specifics of each message, but I do want to share a thought about the overall idea behind the series.  It seems that in our modern way of thinking, we have been taught and told that the Bible is God's great answer book - that if we have a problem we can find the solution to it inside the pages of Scripture.  In a broad sense, I think it is true to say that the great message of the Bible, which is life in Christ, will address many of the problems we have in life.  Notice I said "address," not "solve."  I have come to understand that not only will the Bible not solve all our problems or answer all our questions, I have even come to believe that God doesn't want to solve all our problems or answer all our questions.

Some of the most profound moments of Jesus' life, some of His most lasting teaching, came not with an easy answer, but with a question more challenging than the original problem.  So when a Pharisee asks, "Jesus, is it right to pay taxes?," He doesn't respond with "yes!  You owe a responsibility to your fellow man," or "no!  Government is oppressive!"  He asks a larger question, "whose image is on that coin?"  If you want to hear why that question is so amazing, you'll have to listen to Sunday's sermon!

I confess, as a pastor I find the allure of "easy answerism" very alluring.  Many seem to be growing large, "successful" churches by giving black and white answers to life's messy problems.  I confess that I find it tempting to do the same, to thunder "Yes!" where God's word leaves a "maybe, maybe not."  I confess that I want to preach my own interpretations as fact, as if somehow I have managed to settle these 2000 year old debates the church has been battling.  Then I'm reminded again that Jesus never let people off that easy.  He never turned faith in God into a multiple choice, fill-in-the-blank system, and he certainly never said any of this would be easy.

So, as I begin a new series, and continue to grow in my own walk with God, I only ask that you leave me the same room I leave you.  Room to grow, room to explore, and room to sometimes say, "I don't know?"  Sometimes, I might even dare to answer you question with one of my own, "what do you think?"  

Gulp. 

"Them"

This morning, after spending my first hour or so in my office reading commentaries on Ephesians, I thought my mind could use a little rest, so I started checking my normal internet stops for the news of the day.  One of the stops I make a couple times a day is the Charlotte Observer's web site, where I was met with THIS STORY.

It seems that this pastor, in a sermon on Sunday, offered up a plan to essentially put all homosexuals into concentration camps.  Since he isn't inhuman, *cough* he would graciously airlift food into these enormous camps so that the poor souls wouldn't starve to death.  The point of this, according to the preacher, is that after time there would be no more homosexuals in the world, because they can't reproduce.  Thus the end of all of our troubles, right?

My first reaction to a story like this isn't actually what you might expect.  If you know me, you might expect derision and scorn to be the first emotions that I felt upon hearing such nonsense, but you'd be wrong.  You might expect me to point out how utterly stupid it is to think homosexuals can only come from other homosexuals, since... well.... as he already pointed out homosexuals can't reproduce with one another.  So either this guy thinks that there are gay men and women out there in heterosexual relationships making more gay people, or he has a serious flaw in his theory. 

I obviously went through those feelings, but first I felt pity.  I felt sad.  I felt sorry for a man who has so obviously misunderstood the Bible he cherishes as to think this is the kind of idea that is worthy of the pulpit.  Most of all, I felt sorry for the Church - the great universal collective of God's people here on earth.  Goodness knows we don't need people like this speaking on our behalf, yet it seems every day we unearth some new preacher with fear and ignorance in his mind, and hate on his tongue.  The key message of Ephesians, which I had just been reading and studying, is the great role of the Church, unified in Christ, to be the fulfillment of God's plan for reconciling all people to each other, and to God. 

How are we doing?

Believing homosexuality to be a sin is a completely legitimate position.  It is defensible with Scripture, and contrary to what some may believe, it can even be held without malice towards homosexuals themselves.  This post isn't about whether or not being gay is a sin - its about how pastors have turned homosexuals into "them."

You know, "them."  "Those people" who aren't "us."  "They" are out there, somewhere, lurking, trying to corrupt our children, change our country (which is certainly perfect otherwise, right?), and possibly kick our dogs when we aren't looking.

Whenever I hear a sermon like this, I always wonder if the pastor would be willing to substitute names in place of "them."  Would he be willing to be introduced to Josh*, the gay man, or Kim* the lesbian (*not real people), and having met them, be willing to preach about building a concentration camp, surrounded by electrified fencing for Josh and Kim.  He might, but I have a feeling that he probably wouldn't.

You see, when we can find ways to lump people into groups - gays, blacks, whites, liberals, tea baggers, right wingers, socialists, fundamentalists, muslims - we make it easy to hate.  Most people have a hard time hating people, but find it quite easy to hate groups, so when a sermon like this is preached, it is about "them."  "Those people" who are out to get us.   

There is a reason that I have long believed we need to listen more as churches.  It is because, in listening, we make new friends.  We come to new understanding.  We learn names.  And when we learn names, "they" cease to be groups of nameless, faceless people, and become souls that we care about, and that God loved enough to send His Son to redeem.  When we take the time to get outside of our walls, and meet "them," we find it much harder to hate "them," and we certainly don't blacken the reputation of the church with sermons like this.

Of course, even as I type this, I know "they" won't listen to me.  Right?

The Sun and the Wind

    

The sun and the wind decided one day to have a contest to see who was the strongest.  When they saw a man walking down the street wearing a warm winter coat, they agreed that whoever could get the man’s coat off would be the strongest.

    The wind thought this would be a piece of cake, so he began to blow with all his might.  But the harder he blew the tighter the man held on to his coat.  Eventually the wind gave up and the sun took his turn.  The sun came out from behind a cloud and began to shine brighter and brighter.  As the man got hotter and hotter he finally took off the coat of his own accord.  The wind had to concede that the sun was indeed stronger.   - Aesop's Fables

    With all the talk about Christianity losing its voice in our modern culture, this parable has been in my mind quite a bit lately.  It seems that our churches are dividing into the those who wish to fight back - through the force of law, through our public voice, and with any other way possible - the loss of social "clout" by the church.  On the other side are those who believe, as I do, that the church was never meant to have social standing - that in fact, the church loses its prophetic voice when it becomes entangled with the popular culture, or with political power. 
     As I read through the New Testament, I'm struck by how Jesus chose to deal with different groups of people.  Jesus spoke to the lost, the hurting, the sinner, through parables.  The reason a parable works so well is simple, people can often see a point better when it is illustrated as an external reality first, then apply it internally in their own lives.  When confronted directly people’s defensiveness can often cloud their thinking to words that could be truly helpful.  To the lost, the hurting, the outcast of His day, Jesus shone like the sun.  He certainly didn't want to leave them in their current condition, but He also didn't expect them to act like citizens of the Kingdom before showing them love and kindness.

   Now, some are saying, "yes, but Jesus also talked about Hell, called people hypocrites, and he cleared the temple with a whip!"  Of course, you are right, which fits the other pattern of Jesus' ministry - He blew like the wind against those who considered themselves the most religious.  Against those who thought they had God all figured out.  Jesus saves his most pointed words, not for lost people, but for "church" people.  

    What does this mean for us?  I think it is time for we, as church people, to stop feeling persecuted.  Honestly, for believers in the United States to talk so much about a "war on Christianity" is an insult to those believers to struggle every day to survive literal wars.  We need to learn again how to communicate the affect of Christ in our lives through words and deeds that allow people to make their own choice, not to feel coerced.  Forceful words, words of correction and justice are great, but we need to remember where Jesus aimed those kinds of words.  If we truly exist to teach people outside our walls about Jesus, if we really do exist to try and convince them the life He prescribes is the best, most fulfilling life we can live - here and now - then we need to shine like the sun, rather than blow like the wind when we reach the public square.