On the Anniversary of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Execution

Answering God’s call is not a task easily undertaken, nor is it without sacrifice. While all will find difficulties along the way, the manner in which an individual faces those challenges will vary greatly. Some may find that the difficulties become too strenuous to continue, perhaps setting limits on the burdens they are willing to bear. Others will continue to follow the call knowing fully well that discipleship is not an easy road, rather, that suffering is frequently the path. Along the way, despite the hardships, the suffering disciple will still find satisfaction and life through serving God. This has been the case with the prophets and prophetic voices in all ages, a list of many names, including Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Bonhoeffer was born on February 4, 1906, the son of a distinguished doctor, psychiatrist and teacher at Berlin University. Many of Bonhoeffer’s ancestors had been clergy, and a great-grandfather who had been a professor of Church History had been arrested for supporting the rights of students.
His childhood friendships included children of a theologian and an historian. In 1924 he became a theology student at Berlin University, where he came under the influence of Barth, exposed to thoughts of neo-orthodoxy, and the need to move away from religiosity. This influence would come to not only be reflected in his later works, but is also mentioned in some of his Letters.

Beginning in 1930, he studied for a year at Union Theological Seminary in New York, and while there visited several states. He became aware of and began to appreciate the experience of African Americans, often worshipping in a church in Harlem, which began to reshape his worldview of Christianity while at the same time gaining respect for the Jewish faith. He returned to Berlin in order to assume a teaching position at the University.

Bonhoeffer would pastor two German congregations in London, and during that time was forbidden by the Nazi authorities to continue teaching in Berlin. Also happening at the time was the publication of the Barmen Declaration rejecting false doctrine and serving as a foundational document for the “Confessing Church,” a church which would openly denounce Hitler’s policies made in the name of the Gospel. This church subsequently invited Bonhoeffer to return to Germany to be the head of a new covert seminary. Despite being advised by many not to return to Germany he accepted, knowing fully well that doing so might endanger his life.

After returning to Germany and beginning to teach again, he also began to publish his writings. Among the most significant is The Cost of Discipleship, published in 1937. This work, intended as an exposition on the Sermon on the Mount, also contains insight into Bonhoeffer’s personal understanding of what true discipleship means.

But the call of Jesus is stronger than the barrier. At this critical moment nothing on earth, however sacred, must be allowed to come between Jesus and the [person] he has called—not even the law itself. Now, if never before, the law must be broken for the sake of Jesus; it forfeits all its rights if it acts as a barrier to discipleship. Therefore Jesus emerges at this point as the opponent of the law, and commands a [person] to follow him. Only Christ can speak in this fashion. He alone has the last word. His would-be follower can not kick against the pricks. This call, this grace, is irresistible.

It is this understanding of the call and cost of discipleship which he would live out in his life, even through it would mean his later imprisonment and death at the hands of the Nazi regime.

Bonhoeffer had been a pacifist for many years; however, the growing terror of the Nazi regime was causing him to realize that pacifism might be an escape from the call of discipleship. As he began to realize that a person could not just escape into piety and be relieved of responsibility, he became involved in the resistance movement, which eventually led to his arrest by the Gestapo in April 1943. He would be imprisoned until April 9, 1945 when he was executed in a concentration camp. During his captivity he often communicated with friends and family, and it was this correspondence which would later be published posthumously as Letters and Papers from Prison.

During the early portion of his confinement Bonhoeffer remained optimistic about his release, often stating that he did not feel it would be for a great amount of time. Gradually, however, he began to realize that the situation was beyond his control, and his best approach was that of patience. In a letter dated July 3, 1943 (then three months in prison), he wrote that he recalled a lecture on ethics where he heard that it was one of the duties of a Christian citizen to remain patient if imprisoned and waiting for investigation. It served as a reminder to him and others to wait calmly and patiently for the outcome.

It was also during this early portion of his incarceration when he focused on rereading the Bible from cover to cover. In a letter dated Easter 1943, he mentioned a preoccupation with the high priestly prayer from the passion account, and in a subsequent letter dated May 15, he mentioned that he was particularly fond of Job. These two mentions are insightful, as they illustrate Bonhoeffer’s identification with passages of suffering early in his detention.

Another interesting insight is gained from his reference to Jeremiah 45 on two separate occasions. The first is somewhat early, Sept. 5, 1943, where he offered that life extends beyond our physical existence. The second mention comes from the letter dated July 21, 1944, the day after the assassination attempt on Hitler, where he grappled with the meaning of faith.

By this-worldliness I mean living unreservedly in life’s duties, problems, successes and failures, experiences and perplexities. In doing so we throw ourselves completely into the arms of God, taking seriously, not our own sufferings, but those of God in the world—watching with Christ in Gethsemane. That, I think, is faith…and that is how one becomes a [person] and a Christian (cf. Jer 45!).

While no one can suppose to know exactly what in Jeremiah 45 had remained with Bonhoeffer for almost a full year, certainly it may have been the following portion (given his previous statements on discipleship): “Thus says the LORD: I am going to break down what I have built, and pluck up what I have planted– that is, the whole land. And you, do you seek great things for yourself? Do not seek them; for I am going to bring disaster upon all flesh, says the LORD; but I will give you your life as a prize of war in every place to which you may go.” (Jer 45.4-6)

Despite his questioning of the meaning of faith, he realized that truer understanding was to be gained not from an easy life, rather from the struggles and hard times. Reflecting upon the nativity as Christmas approached, combined with an empathetic presence with other prisoners, he wrote the following on Dec. 17, 1943:

For many people in this building it will probably be a more sincere and genuine occasion than in places where nothing but the name is kept…misery, suffering, poverty, lonliness, helplessness, and guilt…these are things that a prisoner can understand better than other people; for him they really are glad tidings, and that faith gives him a part in the commuion of saints, a Christian fellowship breaking the bounds of time and space and reducing the months of confinement here to insignificance.

Five days later, he would write that he had no regrets for his involvement “in the part I had resolved to play in Germany’s fate. It is with no reproach that I look back on the past and accept the present…all we can do is live in assurance and faith.” Through his own writing and actions, Bonhoeffer had accepted the call of Christ as he had described it many years earlier in The Cost of Discipleship (see above), complete with the need to break the law in the name of Christ. It had been for him irresistible, yet the suffering which accompanied his call was informing his understanding of the meaning of true faith.

He had come to a new understanding of what it meant to be a Christian. It was not, as he had written in Discipleship a “Cheap Grace,” rather it was grace that was quite costly. On July 18, 1944, he wrote: “To be a Christian does not mean to be religious in a particular way, to make something of oneself (a sinner, a penitent, or a saint) on the basis of some method or other, but to be a [person]—not a type of [person], but the [person] that Christ creates in us. It is not the religious act that makes the Christian, but participation in the sufferings of God in the secular life.”

Bonhoeffer had taken the road less traveled. It was not the path of easy Christianity, or the way of blissful ignorance of the “outside world.” For him, it was the realization that the call to discipleship was a call to participate in the work and suffering of God through Christ. As a contemporary martyr, perhaps he heard the message of the Gospel through extreme ears. On the other hand, he may have heard the message more clearly than many others. How many countless other pastors saw the state of Germany during those days and turned their backs? How many had chosen the path of least resistance, the choice of inaction? It seems almost as if Hitler had become the new Decius, and when faced with persecution many German Christians reacted out of fear, becoming the “lapsed” of the 20^th century.

But this was not the case for Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He chose to hear the call of Christ, even unto his own suffering and death, even unto his own martyrdom. He realized that to discipleship was not a call to serve in the “good times.” True faith would require action, the willingness and commitment to stand for what is right and just in God’s world, despite the consequences. Six months before his death he wrote that “It is certain that we claim nothing for ourselves, and may yet pray for everything; it is certain that our joy is hidden in suffering, and our life in death; it is certain that in all this we are in a fellowship that sustains us. In Jesus God has said Yes and Amen to it all, and that Yes and Amen is the firm ground on which we stand.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer heard the true call, complete with its many nuances, and responded with his life for Christ. One can not help but wonder how many persons today are prepared to respond with the same strength of commitment and conviction to that call.

“What will come out of my time here it is still too early to say; but something will come of it….”

    –Dietrich Bonhoeffer, September 25, 1943

Endnotes:

 

[1] DietrichBonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison, translated byReginaldFuller (New York: Macmillan, 1967), 19.

[1] Ibid., 19.

[1] These statements are derived from lecture notes ofMay 11, 2005.

[1] Ibid., 20.

[1] JustoL.Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity: Volume 2, The Reformation to the Present Day (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1985), 365.

[1] DietrichBonhoeffer, The Call to Discipleship, et. (New York: Touchstone/Simon & Schuster, 1995), 60-61.

[1] Bonhoeffer, Letters, 59.

[1] Ibid., 43, 46.

[1] Ibid., 65.

[1] Bonhoeffer, Letters, 202.

[1] Ibid., 76.

[1] Ibid., 115.

[1] Ibid., 198.

[1] Bonhoeffer, Letters, 214.

[1] Ibid., 68.

Bibliography

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich.    The Cost of Discipleship. Translated by R. H. Fuller. New York: Touchstone/Simon & Schuster, 1995.

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich.    Letters and Papers from Prison. Translated by Reginald Fuller. New York: Macmillan Company, 1967.

Gonzalez, Justo L.    The Story of Christianity Vol. II: The Reformation to the Present Day. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1985.

“Quality” of Life

I read a blog post today that really made me feel sad, and quite honestly angry. Angry with the mindset of our culture and angry with the parents facing the situation the mother describes in her blog. And sad and angry with the parents of little Amelia. You can read the blog here: Amelia: “Brick Walls”

See here’s the scoop. Amelia has a developmental delay, not unlike many children in our culture today. All too often parents hear the argument questioning their children’s potential “quality” of life. This treatment will not improve your child’s “quality” of life, this procedure may jeopardize your loved one’s “quality” of life, and the list goes on. In short, the term “quality” of life is more often used to deny or dissuade someone from a resource that would better be used for someone who has a “better” quality of life. And in our culture, that usually means that the un-named other person is judged to have the potential to be more productive or contribute more to society (because too often we are only valued for what we can produce). The reality is that quite frequently the term “quality” of life is used to discriminate.

“So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them (Genesis 1:27) …then the LORD God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being. (Genesis 2:7)”

We are created in the image of God. God has breathed into each of us the breath of life, giving us the designation of being sacred persons of worth. Inherently, this means that ALL life has “quality” because God holds all life, both “normal” and “developmentally disabled,” with the same love and honor. So who are we to determine that one life has “quality” and another does not?

I agree there are many situations in which we could say the following:

• This person’s life will not be any easier
• This person’s life may become more difficult
• This person’s caregivers may find life to be more challenging
• This person will not become a “productive” member of society
• Your life will not be fun or pleasant on most days
• You will wonder if you have the strength to continue
• You will wonder why it has to be so hard

And the list goes on. But none of those things in any way mean that one life has less “quality” than the other. Quality refers to relationship, love, honor, worth, etc. When used in conjunction with life given by God, in can only mean one thing: “It is very good.”

What we need is a cultural re-education. Let’s invite people to be honest and say things like “this organ should be transplanted into a person who will become a productive member of society” or ” I would rather perform this procedure on a person who will provide a greater return on investment.” Sound harsh? Perhaps, but isn’t that what people are already alluding to when they use the “quality” of life argument?

Better yet, like Amelia’s mom said, how about if we stop predicting the future for kids with developmental disabilities.

For just as the quality of each life is held in God’s care, so too is the future.

“The Kingdom of God is ADA Compliant”

I recently read an article, published January 11 by the Washington Post (you can find it here: Church ADA Supreme Court Ruling ), about a recent Supreme Court decision regarding the ADA. As I read it the gist is that a woman sued a church for wrongful termination under the ADA statutes, after her employment was not restored following a debilitating struggle with narcolepsy. In their ruling, the high court maintained that the separation of church and state is to be maintained, even around the issues of disability.

“The justices ruled unanimously that the First Amendment’s guarantee of the free exercise of religion means that even neutral laws intent on banning workplace discrimination may not be applied to a religious institution choosing “those who will guide it on its way.” “The interest of society in the enforcement of employment discrimination statutes is undoubtedly important,” Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. wrote for the court. “But so too is the interest of religious groups in choosing who will preach their beliefs, teach their faith, and carry out their mission.” When those principles are in conflict, Roberts said, “the First Amendment has struck the balance for us.”

I do feel that the response of the church in question to the woman’s situation highlights an important issue of how the wider church responds to, and affirms persons with disabilities who engage in ministry on behalf of the church. Indeed, the ADA issues are extremely concerning. However, I also feel this is an area for the wider church to address and correct. “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church…” (Matthew 18:15-17) But what are we to do when the offender IS the church?

I do not feel the answer is to sue the church, for if we follow such a cultural paradigm, what more are we doing than the others? Perhaps we might do well to also remember the words of Paul, written to the Galatians: “Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian…” Galatians 3:24-25) Although we are all individually immersed in culture and products of our culture, when we gather as the church, we are called to rise above culture (yes, this is an offhand reference to Niebuhr’s work “Christ and Culture”). As the church, we are called to model a more excellent way (see 1 Cor. 12.31, leading to the “love” chapter 13). We are called to model the reign (or kingdom) of God, even though we dwell in the city of the world (thank you Augustine). In other words, when the church has wronged an individual, or group of individuals, I feel it is incumbent upon us to raise our voices to the church and hold it accountable, seeking a transformation from within and hopefully modeling a more excellent way TO our culture.

And I believe this is still the important task before us in the area of disabilities. Instead of seeking protection under the ADA, how about if we raise our voices from within the church, airing our grievances in productive ways? There are many persons with disabilities who have been either excluded from, or at the very least not included in, full participation in the life and ministry of the church. This unfortunate circumstance can change, yet the burden of change lies upon our shoulders. Governmental oversight/mandate/direction (even in the issues of ADA and discrimination) might lead us down a path we don’t want to travel.

We are making progress through theological education (by which I mean re-educating the church theologically) around disabilities and inclusion, yet there is much work to do. By forming task forces to study disabilities and present their findings to the wider church, we are changing the conversation. By developing Bible Studies for use in congregations, people are now understanding persons with disabilities not as “un-able,” but as persons who are differently abled, as persons who bring a different set of gifts and graces to the church. By exploring the area of disabilities through the lens of our faith, the church is beginning to reaffirm that, just as “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus,” (Galatians 3:28) there is also no distinction between “disabled” and “normal” among the people of God, for we are all created in the image and likeness of God, united in the body of Christ, the church.

So let us continue in this important work which lies before us. Let us continue to raise our prophetic voices and call the church to accountability in transforming the church to a community of full inclusion. And let us continue this work from within, rather than seeking results forced from without. For it is only by following this path that the church might model that “ADA” is not a law, but a view into the reign of God. And God IS still speaking, through us and to the church.

A Truly Joyous Christmas

“Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see– I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people…” Luke 2.9-10

It happened a few nights ago, when we sat together as a family watching A Charlie Brown Christmas. I was enjoying myself, in the moment, when Linus took center stage, just as he has done every time the special is aired. He recites the Gospel of Luke and finishes by saying “that’s what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown.” I love that scene, and feel spiritually moved each year when I see it.

But this year, I heard something I don’t remember paying particular attention to in years past. Sure, I have read Luke’s gospel innumerable times, but I was listening to it through another voice. That’s when it struck me. The angel says “I am bringing you good news of GREAT joy for all the people.” Great Joy. Not just any kind of joy, not a common, meager or adequate joy. Not a joy that will tide me over for a few days, or if I am lucky a month or two. No. This news, this GOOD news brings right alongside it GREAT joy. Yup, it was like it hit me right between the eyes, or perhaps right in the heart would be more appropriate.

Joy can be a real challenge in life—finding joy is very difficult. Ironically our culture—and if we are honest, we ourselves—seems to be in a continual pursuit of joy. Perhaps that’s why the malls are full, the parking lots at bars are rarely empty, and Christmas parties are bountiful. People are looking for joy, but they’re striking out. Like those haunting words of Bono from U2—”I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”

Probably, one reason why people perpetually search for joy is that real joy is not self-induced. As many people learn this time of year you can’t have joy by fighting the crowds (or even beating the rush) each December evening in a shopping mall. You can’t turn on joy with a Yuletide TV Christmas special. The gift you just had to have doesn’t produce eternal joy. How long does it last, fifteen minutes? You’d have to feel sorry for the person who claimed to feel real, deep, abiding joy after receiving a “Chia Pet,” or even a “Lexus” on Christmas morning. In a world given to the pursuit of joy through materialism and entertainment, it is ironic people are so devoid of real joy.

I found one website which offered the perfect recipe for Christmas happiness. Are you ready? All it takes for the perfect Christmas happiness is: Three weeks off work, 7,000 calories, 6 inches of snow and no more than 10 hours shopping…

Really? After you have taken aspirin to relieve the pain in your back from shoveling, returned to work in January and stepped on the scale, having dared to look at the result, will you be happy? Will you be filled with joy?

How about gifts? What is your perfect gift? What is the one gift which you might receive, which you will always remember and never tire of? Is it perfectly wrapped and placed under the tree? Is it exactly what you directed everyone to buy for you, which you expect to see on Christmas morn, and for which you will lament that Christmas was disappointing because your expectations were not met?

The Greek word used to describe this “great” joy is the one from which we derive our word mega. You know, like the TV commercial advertising the MEGA Christmas Sale! The text reads as though the shepherds feared a great fear, a mega fear. The Angel responds in the extreme opposite with good news of great joy. It is intense and powerful, powerfully affecting our senses and emotions. Mega fear is met with Mega joy. It is an abundant joy, which coming only from God cannot dissipate or be lessened by humans.

Now the world knows how to package happiness (or so it thinks) but the world doesn’t know much about joy. Happiness might be the pleasure of the moment, but joy is different. Joy is about endurance. Enduring yesterday in the hope that tomorrow will be a better day. Joy is about hope. Joy is about peace. Joy is about living in peace, shalom, in spite of the moment. When the angel speaks of great joy, the angel speaks of a wholeness of life, which God grants to persons through a restoring of balance in our lives. Maybe it was the Grinch who said it best, in our contemporary culture, when his heart grew three sizes that day: “It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

If humanity’s greatest need had been information, God would have sent us an educator. If our greatest need had been technology, God would have sent us a scientist. If our greatest need had been money, God would have sent us an economist. But no, our greatest need was, and still is, for joy. Since our greatest need was release from the captivity of our mega fears, God sent us a Redeemer. A redeemer who is God incarnate, God WITH Us, who takes us by the hand, breaks the bonds our burdens have upon us and leads us from valley of the shadow to a place where we no longer need to fear any great fears.

This is the good news that brings GREAT joy! And this GREAT joy overcomes the powerful hold our great fears have on us. O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, which mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear. What are those things which hold us captive, from which only Emmanuel—God With Us—can free us? What are the mega fears in our lives, which only God can answer with mega joy?

Now I know what you might be thinking. Well, that kind of Joy is just not for me. Sure, it works for some, but my fears, worries, pains, sufferings are different, they are just too great— the joy thing just doesn’t work for me. Well here is an eye opener for you: the angel went on to say that this good news of great joy is for ALL the people. No matter who you are, no matter what crap life has dumped on you, no matter what you have gone through, despite the fact that society tells you that you don’t deserve it, or that you haven’t earned it—this good news of great joy is for you too—maybe even especially for you! While your circumstances might not seem conducive to joy, great joy can be felt despite, and in the midst of, your circumstances.

And so the words of the old hymn O little town of Bethlehem still ring true for us today: The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight. Maybe, just maybe, we could also sing our mega fears of all our years are met in thee tonight! This Christmas, I invite you to give yourself permission to receive the gift of the Peace of Christ which surpasses all understanding. Open yourself to hear—and feel—the good news of GREAT joy. It is a mega joy which can conquer mega fear. And I guarantee it is a Christmas Gift you will never forget or regret. Amen and Thanks be to God!

Advent HOPE: Affirming Misfits

I love the Advent/Christmas season. Tonight, I will be watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I am not watching Rudolph because of my kids. As teenagers now, their interest has waned recently. No, I am watching it because I want to and because it is one of my favorite Christmas specials.

It is one of my favorites because it is a wonderful story of affirmation and inclusion. It is an Advent story, because it offers a glimpse into the hope the Christ child (sorry, not Santa) will bring into the world.

Perhaps you remember the story. Rudolph is discovered to have a shiny red nose by his parents. And this red nose is different from everyone else. They already know that the culture does not affirm reindeer who are different (perhaps there had been others in the past?). So they do what seems best at the time, they try to hide it. They hope that no one will notice that their child is different.

For a while it seems like it is working, no one seems to notice. Rudolph has some gifts and is even affirmed as a very promising reindeer. But alas, everything changes. His nose disguise falls off and his difference is discovered. And so it begins.

Even though Rudolph is no different than he was previously, everyone else now sees him differently. He is laughed at, picked on, and ultimately excluded from the community—who can forget the comment of the “coach” reindeer as he proclaims ‘from now on we won’t let Rudolph join in any reindeer games.’ And how can your heart not break as Rudolph sings the lament of “why am I such a misfit?”

After a series of adventures, of course, Rudolph comes to believe in himself. He comes to value his self-worth. When he returns to the community, he is somewhat restored from marginalization. When a terrible storm threatens Christmas, Rudolph’s nose—the very difference which caused the community to shun him—turns out to be exactly what saves the day. How about that, the difference was actually a gift.

Our culture is not that far removed from the imaginary world of Rudolph. Our children who are born with differences—facial, physical, mental, or neuro-psychological—are not immediately affirmed by the dominant (read: “normal”) culture. When many parents discover that their child is “different,” they too hope no one will find out. Why? Because too often, parents are often “distanced” by the community when their children are discovered to be different. Consider this saying which has been around for a while: “when your child is diagnosed with cancer, everyone stops you in the grocery store asking what they can do to help. They bring meals over to your house. When your child is diagnosed with Autism—your neighbors dart down a different aisle.”

Kids who are different are laughed at, picked on and marginalized. And yet, each child also has a gift. Unfortunately, these gifts are not affirmed by the community, because their “difference” is how the community defines them. Fortunately, some are able to let their gifts shine and find affirmation in the community. Unfortunately, not enough children find this affirmation. Not for lack of their desire or effort, but instead for culture’s refusal to see them for what they have to offer.

And as I wrote earlier, Rudolph is a wonderful story for Advent, especially the first week of HOPE.

Advent is the season of preparation, when we make way and prepare for the coming of the Savior. With the coming of the Christ child, we anticipate the in-breaking of the kingdom of God, our God who has created us in God’s own image and likeness. And yet, Advent reminds us that while the reign of God is coming, it is not here yet. We need to be prepare, be ready and wait for it.

We have an advantage, for we have a retrospective view of the Christ event. We know that Christ came in the form of a child. We know that when Christ engaged in his ministry, he reached out to the marginalized. He touched and affirmed those who were “different.” He taught that in the kingdom of God, all are welcome at the table. He restored those who were marginalized and excluded into full participation in the community.

That’s what Christmas is all about. The world can change. The world can be one where parents do not have to be fearful whether their children will be accepted. The world can be one where all people are affirmed for their gifts, instead of shunned for their differences.

That is my Advent HOPE. I hope that this year, the coming of the Christ child will usher in the reign of God. I hope that this year, we will finally understand the meaning of Christmas and work toward a world where all of our children are affirmed and included. I hope that all of our kids can let their “red noses shine” without having to wonder why they are such misfits.

After all, didn’t Jesus teach “don’t hide your light under a bushel?”

Awkward Metaphors

I recently saw a status post on Facebook which was being copied and pasted by many folk. Fortunately, it hasn’t yet gone “viral.” It goes something like this: “Children with disabilities are like butterflies with broken wings. They’re just as beautiful as other children, but they just need a little help to spread their wings.” At first glance it may sound wonderful, thoughtful and helpful. It may sound like the person posting it shares a concern for the way persons with disabilities are accepted or not accepted in our culture. It may sound like the person wishes to raise awareness.

But here is the other side, as I see it. The metaphor simply isn’t helpful. Granted, part of it carries an important message: children with disabilities are just as beautiful as other children. It is the first portion, with the broken wing image which is less than helpful. See, when using the image of a broken wing, the implication is that persons with disabilities are “broken.” And in our culture, things that are broken either need to be fixed or discarded. Think about it: what do you do when your toaster is broken? I think our kids are more than toasters. The implication that a person is “broken” also depends on the assumption that other persons are “not broken.” And those who are not broken are, of course, called upon to “fix” those who are, so that they might one day be broken no more. This line of thinking also extends to presume that in order to be accepted, “they” need to become like “us.” So as I said, this metaphor simply is not helpful in my opinion.

Now I also tend to reflect on such things through a theological lens. I believe that we are all created in the image and likeness of God, and that after God created humanity, God declared us to be very good. This declaration means that we all bear the image of God, regardless of health, wealth, power, status, class, race, nationality or even religion. It means that we all bear the image of God regardless of physical, developmental or mental “ability.” Being created in the image of God implies a designation of honor and respect by the one who calls us into being, calls us by name and calls us as God’s own. Intrinsic to the image of God are such qualities as dignity, sacred worth, the ability to love and the capacity for compassion.

I am also aware that within theology we often refer to the brokenness of humanity. This brings to mind two things. Firstly, that we are all broken and in need of grace. There are not groups of people who are broken and those who are not. Secondly, when we speak of brokenness, we generally refer to the human condition and/or an understanding of sin. If sin is that which distances us from God, then the implication is that those with disabilities (i.e. “broken”) are more distant from God, while those without disabilities (“not broken”) are closer to God. My point is that there is universality to brokenness—all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. So broken is not a term which should be used to designate a certain group of people.

I could go on, but alas, this is not the venue for a systematic theology on disability (although I really think I need to work on that). Of course, you could also poke around this blog and find whole sermons on disabilities.

So let me just say: if you want to be helpful; if you want to raise awareness; if you want to advocate or even just publicly share your concern, then please consider doing justice for those with disabilities. Before posting, pause for a moment and reflect on the metaphor you are about to share. What are its implications and does it perpetuate the very stereotype you are hoping to change? Persons with disabilities are not broken; they are just different, as different as you and I are from each other in many ways. They do not need to be fixed, they just need to be accepted and affirmed for the person who they are. After all, on a personal note, I don’t want anyone to “fix” my son; I just want people to accept him and recognize the gifts he has to share with us. Besides, the help persons with disabilities need to spread their wings might just be changing our cultural stereotypes instead of the person with the disability.

Building the Church a “More Excellent Way” 1 Corinthians 13

Many of us have heard today’s passage in a slightly different context. It is perhaps the most popular scripture chosen for people as they plan their weddings and has become known as the love passage. While Paul describes love, he does not try to define it; rather, he seeks to designate the behaviors we will display when we are engaging in loving relationships.

And notice the way I described the passage, it is active, not passive. This is not a text where we are asked to look on as guests, dressed for a party and seated dutifully in the church pews, but rather necessitates our involvement, not only to make the kingdom of God possible in general, but also, to activate and nurture the kingdom of God in our immediate communities of faith.

Love is patient, love is kind, love does not envy or boast, it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way, is not irritable or resentful and does not rejoice in another’s shame, claims the text. Despite popular misconception, Paul did not write these words to a community in the midst of happy days, or for lovebirds standing at the altar of marriage. He wrote them to people who were going through tough times and found their relationships tested and strained—to remind them what it meant to love each other.

As I mentioned, this text is about relationships. It offers us challenging, yet sage advice for the way in which we can maintain our personal relationships. Yet Paul’s concern was the relationships of the folk within the church. The church in Corinth was being demoralized by arguments over spiritual gifts. And the result was a bedlam of sound and a competitive spirit that were destroying the fabric of fellowship. So Paul felt the need to name the problem and address it.

Most of the believers in Corinth were extremely excited about their faith and there were people with tremendous gifts in the community. There were teachers and healers and those who could speak in tongues there were those who could lead in worship. There were preachers and there were those who had other ministries. The word of God was proclaimed every day and folk prayed and the gospel message itself was wonderful. Everything you needed for a vital church was happening in their midst – but for one thing. The church didn’t have enough love in it.

There were some strange things going on – For example: there were some folk who believed that their contribution to the community of faith was more significant than the contributions being made by others – and that their views on things should be considered first because of that, while others felt like they weren’t important to God or the church at all because they didn’t have the gifts, or the talents, or the wealth to offer that they thought they should have.

So, the people in Corinth were behaving in ways that were, at times rude to one another, impatient, arrogant, greedy, selfish, egotistical, and unkind. To put it in context, it is as if Paul might say today, “although you may see these behaviors in Washington, they are not appropriate for the church.”

We, each one of us here, like the Corinthians, are incredibly gifted by God. We have talents and abilities and spiritual gifts that can build up this community. We have those who sing praise to God and lift all our hearts. We have those who learn the Word of God and share it with others – gifts of teaching and those who bring comfort and create joy with food – and get well cards – and well-timed phone calls. We hug and we bless one another with a smile when we gather together we pray for one another – both in this place and outside we are concerned – we do care – we do use the gifts we have to build up the body and not simply to bring glory to ourselves – or so I believe.

But are we there yet? Have we really reached the pinnacle of what our faith says we should be about? We all want to say yes, but we too fail the test of love some of the time both as individuals—and as a church. Let’s test ourselves: Do we compare what we do for the church to what others are – or are not doing? Do we ever speak out about how some folk just seem to take up space – as if somehow the value of what we are doing is greater than what they are doing? Do we ever think some folk here are better than we are – and some worse? Do we put down some of our neighbors and praise up others? Do we treat those who are slower than we are with impatience and less reverence – and those who are quicker than us or more well connected than us – with more reverence?

Paul is not saying “be nice to each other.” Paul is not saying, just ignore your differences and get along. Paul is not saying to ignore, deny or hide from the conflicts that divide you. What he is saying is that in the midst of trouble, dissention and division you will find your unity by opening yourself up to, embracing and modeling the love of Christ. Love is the more excellent way. Love means committing ourselves to the messy, frustrating and exhausting work of resolution but doing so without destroying one another and community. And this is the work which lies before the Christian church today.

Love is the standard by which we cultivate the way we are in relationship as a church. The love for which Paul asks the Corinthians—and us—to strive for, is the kind of love that Jesus pursues and proclaims as the acting out of God’s love for the world. Our pursuit of love, therefore, is not only for the sake of our own church, but also for the sake of God’s mission in the world.

In Greek, the term Paul used for prophecy can be used to designate anyone who announces or proclaims something on behalf of another. It is used most frequently to refer to those who functioned as spokespersons of God. For Paul, this was the purpose of the church, to be prophetic as a spokesperson of God to announce and proclaim the good news. And the way in which we will be empowered to build up the church in this manner is by pursuing love, through bringing good news to the poor, looking for ways to bring freedom to those in bondage, and announcing God’s acceptance of the undeserving, unwelcomed, and unexpected.

When we are truly a community in Christ, a community that knows the reality of dissention and can admit areas of division, and yet can keep in view the cross that binds us together, we will be able to join Jesus and walk along him in his ministry to those who so desperately need to hear his love for them, including us.

Jesus said it this way in the Gospel of John, “By this, everyone will know you are my disciples, if you have love one for another.” We are in a time of great opportunity for the Christian church to witness. We know and see every day how deeply divided and fractured the world’s relationships are. As Paul says in the letter to the Corinthians, we can show “a more excellent way to live.” We can demonstrate how to deal with differences while maintaining a sense of community. We can engage in deeply felt conflicts without destroying one another. But first, we need to find that witness within our personal relationships and within the church.

Yes, this work is hard and we will make some mistakes in the process. But we can be a prophetic witness to the world when our actions within the church model that there is a more excellent way to deal with the issues which divide us. And I believe that God is more pleased by the witness we make in struggling to love and respect one another than the battles we wage to gain personal victories. I believe that through God’s grace, we can find the encouragement we need to love one another as Jesus has loved us. I believe that the only program which will build up the church is love. And the good news is that it is never too late to start that program.

“Commemorate, not Perpetuate”

September 11, 2011     

Isaiah 40.1-5, 28-31; Isaiah 61.1-4

In some ways, September 11, 2001 seems like a lifetime ago. In other ways it seems like only the blink of an eye since that fateful day. And yet here we are, 10 years later. Ten years have passed and many of us can remember where we were when we first heard the news. I was scheduled to work the closing shift that day, at the retail store I managed at the time. I was checking my email and there was one which caught my eye from a friend in Nova Scotia. It simply read turn on your TV NOW! I was curious, so I did, just in time to see the plane hit the second tower, and early enough to see both of them fall. And I will never forget how I was speechless. The world has changed since then and we have changed since then too.

Nearly 3,000 people from 90 countries died in the carnage, including 343 firefighters and 60 police officers. This weekend many of us will mourn those thousands whom we never met, as we commemorate September 11, 2001. And mourning is important, whether it is for persons we have lost, things we have lost, or ways of living that have been destroyed. Grieving is what we ought to do in response to those losses, because mourning prepares us for healing and positions us to move forward. And yet, we also need to ask ourselves what it means to mourn such an event as Christians and as a community of faith.

To commemorate is to remember. “Remembering means to “put back together” the pieces of the past, to rearrange the pictures of memory in order to make meaning, to heal, to forgive, or to inspire. Remembering is the hard work of seeing, understanding, making sense of, and learning from the past.” But what exactly is it we are trying to remember this day? Perhaps we are remembering our collective tears and sense of loss. Perhaps we are remembering our sense of bewilderment, when we didn’t know what to do next or even how to respond as a community of faith. Perhaps we will remember the selfless giving of some individuals, in the many acts of heroism on that day and the days that followed.

Unfortunately, on the other hand, many see this anniversary as an opportunity. These voices want us to remember what has followed 9/11, such as the war on terrorism or the ongoing threat from the Taliban and al Qaeda. Or they want us to remember how far we’ve come. Iraq has become democratic, Osama bin Laden is dead, and we “must remain vigilant and continue to hunt down and kill terrorists.”

“9/11-never forget!” It is the slogan, if you will, for the commemoration of that tragic day 10 years ago. Sometimes we interpret ‘never forget’ loosely and it plays out to the effect of never forgive, or never move on. When this happens, biases and hatreds are never forgotten either, and a subtle, silent shift occurs, where we also unwittingly move from commemorate to perpetuate. And ‘never forget’ becomes a rally cry to perpetuate fear and anger, ultimately serving as justification for the perpetuation of war as well. And this nationalistic commemoration is all the more telling, and striking, in its planning with the absence of prayers and lack of invitation of leader of faith traditions to participate.

So here is the difficult part. As the people of God, we are called to commemorate in ways that bring healing and as people of faith. And this can mean going against the grain. For us, our faithful commemoration is not about patriotic songs, or waving flags or political speeches or repeatedly viewing pictures of burning towers.

The texts we heard this morning from Isaiah were written in what came to be known as the post-exilic period of the history of Israel. It was a time when the Temple had been destroyed, by the designs of a foreign people, and the Israelites had found themselves in a state of bewilderment. They wondered what they could believe in, as their world, and worldview, had been shaken. They were no doubt fearful and angry. And yet, despite their grief, the prophetic words which came to them were words of hope and restoration. Both of our passages from Isaiah today speak about how our faith calls us to move from the traumatic past and see the hope and possibility which comes from God.

“Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term.” (Isaiah 40:1-2) “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. God does not faint or grow weary…God gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless…those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:28-31)

“God 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… to comfort all who mourn– 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 shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations.” (Isaiah 61:1-4)

These are not words which perpetuate a state of fear, anger, loss or despair. Their commemoration of past experiences did not define their future. They are words which inspire and call the community to a collective memory that God is a God of hope, promise and rebuilding. God is a God who was in the past, is in the present, and calls us to renew our strength and journey together into the future.

We are called, indeed, to look back, to remember, to give pause to grieve the violence, destruction and death as well as to rejoice the acts of courage, mercy, and solidarity the day and those that followed called forth. But we are also called to look forward, to see and lean into a future that is not defined by the calamity of that day but instead is shaped by hope, possibility, and the grace of God.

As people of faith, perhaps it would be helpful to commemorate the days that followed along with September 11. The memory of the days after 9/11 is one of unity: people reaching across boundaries of faith, race and class to connect with their neighbors, with their friends and with perfect strangers. Jews, Muslims, Christians, atheists and agnostics, we were united in our shock and in our support of each other. It was the strength of unity that helped us survive those first days of trauma. It was a time when we captured a glimpse into the Reign of God.

If our commemoration must move to perpetuation, then let us perpetuate the Reign of God. Let us proclaim and model that we are people who follow Jesus, as he taught “blessed are the peacemakers.” We can be the people we are called to be, living with compassion instead of anger, and with faith instead of fear. It is never too late begin what we should have done already; and so my hope and prayer for this tenth anniversary of 9/11 is that we are finally ready to move past our anger and fear, and that our commemoration moves us into the next phase of our life as a people of faith, and hope, with an eye toward the future. We have served our term as brokenhearted, so how about if we open our hearts to be comforted and renewed by God. Let us remember that our past does not define us, but that we are defined by God who is “doing a new thing, do we not perceive it?” and invites us to “Imagine what’s possible.”

Rev. Gunnar Cerda—9/11/2011

I Have Heard the Cries of My Children

As we worship this morning, Hurricane Irene has been battering the East Coast since Saturday morning. I don’t know if any of you have weathered a hurricane, but as Irene rages I am reminded of my own experience a few years back.

Seven Years ago, Labor Day weekend was approaching and Hurricane Frances was approaching Vero Beach, Florida. My grandmother lived there then and I was concerned, so I called her to see what precautions she had taken. She said that she was also worried and didn’t know what she was going to do; she was lost and bewildered, not knowing which direction to turn next or how best to weather the storm.

And so it began. I boarded a flight destined to arrive in a soon to be disaster area, with no idea what would happen afterwards, and no idea when I might be able to make it home. When I arrived, I went straight to work, and the next day, my grandmother and I were safely tucked away in an official Red Cross hurricane shelter waiting for the storm with 850 local residents, each of whom were filled with an uncertainty brought on by that natural event and which cannot adequately be described by words. It was a level of questioning about what the future held which could only be felt, like the thickness of the growing humidity. It was a combination of fear, isolation, loss, grief, despair and countless other emotions.

The people gathered in that shelter were of different races, faith traditions and generations. It was quite a mix of the diverse children of God, all questioning together what the future held for them, and finding comfort through each other. After a while of being locked in with no way to see what was going on outside, the minutes turned in to hours, and each minute began to seem like hours. The storm raged on for what seemed like forever, as if it would never pass, and the longer the storm lasted, the greater everyone’s fears grew.

At one point, several of us gathered together to unite in a prayer circle. Regardless of whom we all were or where we had been in life’s journey, there we gathered in the midst of tragedy, a community of faith coming before God in prayer. During this prayer time, there was one woman in particular who called out to God to stop the storm. Her faith tradition had taught her that anything she asked of God, as long as it could be backed up by a passage of scripture, God would be obligated to do. It was in a sense an “on-demand performance” request of God, and she truly believed that God would listen and respond immediately.

Unfortunately, this was not the case. The storm continued for over 12 more hours and as that time went on, the woman questioned why God had not responded. In essence, because the storm had not ceased, this woman’s faith had been shaken. In addition to the many questions about what destruction would occur because of the storm itself, this woman also began to question her faith.

And yet, these questions of faith are not only for those affected directly by the storm. Deep inside us, we may also question…would my faith be strong enough in the face of such a tragedy? And even if we never face the tragedy of a hurricane, we all too often face personal tragedies, as we or a loved one are diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, Cancer, a developmental disability or mental illness, and the list goes on. Trials will come, disasters will happen, and our lives may become devastated. It is times like these that we too need some assurance of comfort from the tragedies of the world. It is times like these when we all so desperately need to hear the words of Exodus.

God says to Moses “I have heard the cries of my children. I know their sufferings and I have come down to redeem them.” I have always found those words to be powerfully comforting. When we lament, God hears our cries….and responds with empathy and compassion.

The scene of the burning bush is integral to the context of the passage. In the arid climate of the Near East, in which grew this miraculous plant, it is a symbol of the tenacity and vitality of nature in the midst of adverse conditions. And along with this image, we would also do well to remember that this passage was most likely written during the post-exilic era of Israel to convey an important theological message of hope in the midst of despair and the promise of life in an otherwise life draining environment. Additionally, The Exodus story is not simply a record of a single, unrepeatable historical event of the past; it is also a paradigm of the life of faith. So, I think the allusion is thus: although we go through adverse times in life, suffering at the hands of our individual oppressors, we are not consumed, for God is with us.

We learn about the nature of God in this story. God is a compassionate God, who hears the cries of God’s people and comes down to deliver them, to dwell among them as Immanuel—God with Us—in our very midst, leading us in pilgrimage through the harsh wilderness to a land of promise, a place of hope. And the people of God are summoned to participate in this event—to embark on a pilgrimage where God can lead us from the pain and suffering of those afflictions which oppress us.

What we want is a world without trouble – where all our problems are taken away with the snap of the fingers. That is what the Messiah is supposed to do – the Messiah is supposed to make our world better, and according to the understanding of the disciples (and the audience to whom Matthew wrote) to usher in the age of peace and plenty with one quick snap of the fingers. From the moment that Peter and the other disciples recognized Jesus as the Messiah, Jesus began to explain to them that he must suffer and that he must be killed and on the third day rise. Indeed, what strange stuff is this that the Messiah would suffer with and like us?

“Take up your cross and follow me” is often interpreted these days with something like, “This is my cross in life to bear.” For example: a person is saddled with a heavy load of caring for a sick loved one and views this as “my cross to bear.” I think what Jesus is trying to teach here is that we cannot avoid suffering, it will come. And through Christ, we are reassured that God has come to redeem us and truly knows our sufferings.

Faith is all about living as the people we are – with all our problems, with all our troubles, with all our distractions. When we have emerged from our own sufferings, we can hear the cries and know the sufferings of others, for like Moses, God has called us to go to those who are oppressed and lead them to a land of promise. The way we do that is by following Christ and by being vulnerable enough to suffer with our friends as they journey through their persecutions toward resurrection, a new way of understanding life. In our empathy, when we connect and identify with the cries of God’s children, we are accompanied by the One who is with us all along the way, the One who has heard our cries and come down to redeem us.

I do not know whatever happened with the woman from the shelter during Frances. But I do believe that God did hear her cries, know her sufferings and reach out to redeem her. I believe the answer came from the community we formed, when we cried together, laughed together, prayed together and supported each other as together we survived the adversity of that situation.

There are times in our lives when pain is so great, sorrow so intense, and confusion so overwhelming that we think we cannot possibly continue. In those very moments God’s love can be so real, God’s presence so unmistakable, and God’s peace so calming. Those are the moments when God appears to us, in that still speaking voice saying “I have heard your cries and know your sufferings. I have come down to redeem you.” Thanks be to God our rock and our Redeemer, Amen.

“Are you Conforming or Transforming?”

Romans 12.1-8 Proper 16A August 21, 2011

I have come to the conclusion that in some circles it is pretty easy to be a Christian these days. According to some preachers and theologians, the first step is simply for me to accept Jesus Christ as my personal Savior and dedicate myself to pursuing a right relationship with him. As long as I pursue that goal, all of my sins will be forgiven and my salvation will be secure. When I become secure in the knowledge that I have “been saved,” then I can focus my efforts on removing myself from the evil of this world. I can put a “NOTW” bumper sticker on my car that signifies that I am “not of this world,” but have individually been saved from it.

This all sounds good, yet there is this nagging thought in the back of my brain: this is not the Christianity I envision when I read the Gospel accounts of Jesus, and writings by Paul like that which we hear today. And while those pursuits are not wrong, It’s just not that simple. I get this feeling that there is something more to the real “stuff” of Christianity, something which requires my actions as well as my words.

I recently read a story about a college student. She had gone to college wanting to make friends, desiring to fit in, hoping to do well. Yet she soon discovered that fitting in, doing well, often carries a high price on today’s campuses. There were pressures put on her — subtle pressures, good natured at first, all very friendly — nevertheless, they were pressures. She was told things like, “people here do things this way,” or “you need to lighten up, loosen up,” and “get with the program.” She quickly realized that she could not afford to just “go with the flow,” passively drifting along with everyone else. She would have to spend more energy thinking through what she wanted in life, who she wanted to be, what actions were right for her.

“At first,” she confessed, “I was scared. Nobody wants to look odd, or be a killjoy. But then I finally got the courage to say to myself, ‘This is me. This is the life I want. It’s not for everybody else, but it’s right for me. I am learning the joy of being odd.’”

“The joy of being odd.” That’s what she said. Sort of an interesting phrase, isn’t it? For most of us, on most days, we assume that joy comes from fitting in: being with the right people, feeling comfortable. We don’t normally like to stick out too much, that’s uncomfortable. Yet this young person has seemingly discovered another way: the joy of being odd.

Oh, and by the way, she’s a Christian, so, as she sees it, her joy at being odd is also the joy of being faithful. For her, not being afraid to stand out comes from her faith in Jesus Christ. And she comes to find that being odd, standing out, carries its own brand of joy, a joy that can survive those times when others might make you suffer for standing out from the crowd.

Wow! Such courage and faith! What do we imagine for our faith? Do we wish to be odd? To stand out? What about our church—as the body of Christ, do we fit in or stand out? Are we conforming or transforming?

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., in his book Strength to Love talks about what he calls “transformed nonconformity.” King observes how the pressures for cultural conformity, to “condition our minds and feet to move to the rhythmic drumbeat of the status quo,” are immense. Nevertheless, followers of Jesus have a higher loyalty than conformity to respectability. Living in time and for eternity, Christians need to discover ways to live very much in the world but not of the world. We should never abandon the world, nor should we assimilate to it. We must make history, says King, and not be shaped by history. Most people, says King, “are thermometers that record or register the temperature of majority opinion, not thermostats that transform and regulate the temperature of society.”

King went on to say: “There are some things in our world to which [persons] of goodwill must be maladjusted. I confess that I never intend to become adjusted to the evils of segregation and the crippling effects of discrimination, to the moral degeneracy of religious bigotry and the corroding effects of narrow sectarianism, to economic conditions that deprive [persons] of work and food, and to the insanities of militarism and the self-defeating effects of physical violence.” Christian non-conformity, in other words, has a specific direction.

Paul challenges us to be transformed, to break away from conformity to the ways of the world. In fact, the Greek used is that of metamorphosis, of personal and communal change, inviting us to allow the grace and peace of Christ to transform us that we might transform the world through Christ. It is the message of the continual redemptive work and word of God, which is still speaking today.

Brian McLaren, in his book A New Kind of Christianity: Ten Questions That Are Transforming the Faith, comments on this passage by writing: “We shouldn’t be conformed to the patterns of the world, but should be transformed by the renewing of our minds. We should use our gifts for the common good, loving others without hypocrisy, living the way Jesus lived and taught: sharing, giving, practicing hospitality, breaking down class barriers, forgiving, reconciling, overcoming evil with good. (pp. 154)”

This is entirely different stuff than others are promoting, this is not individual Christianity; rather, this is a call to discipleship, service and a practice of the Gospel message through interactions with community. H. Richard Niebuhr, in his book Christ and Culture, eloquently offered the following: Jesus was born into a culture, raised and formed by that culture, yet he did not allow that culture to determine how he would live out his faith. In other words, Jesus continually listened for the still speaking voice of God, which allowed him to rise above the influence and entrapment of his culture. And then, secure in his relationship with God, and empowered by God, Jesus set out to transform his culture from within. He presented himself as an offering to God. This is what Paul calls for in his letter to the Romans then and which calls to us now. “Present your bodies as a living sacrifice.”

Present your bodies, an offering to God. Have you ever thought of the offering as a high point in our worship each week, as something more than a necessary intrusion in order to pay the bills? In the understanding of Christianity we profess in the United Church of Christ, we are called to present ourselves as an offering to God. This understanding of discipleship calls each of us to awareness of the ways of the world and to seeking active transformation of those ways toward communal relationships which seek to share and spread God’s justice and steadfast love within the inclusive community of God’s children. For us, faith is a pilgrimage where Christians, followers of Christ, actively strive to display relationships and behaviors resembling those relationships and behaviors exhibited by Christ. This is more than “what would Jesus do,” this is what we do as we are called to be Christ-like.

Christianity is not easy when it conforms to the will, wishes, word and work of God alone, it is challenging. It challenges us to depart from the ways of individualism, or personal and political self-interest, to bringing a message of hope to a world that groans in pain and anguish, aching for the promise of the Gospel, longing for the peace promised by the reign of God. Christianity involves loving God SO MUCH that we are truly willing to abandon ourselves, our own desires, ambitions and securities, and offer ourselves as a living sacrifice for God’s transforming work in the world.

Paul reminds us that we are all parts of the body of Christ, and calls upon each of us to use our gifts to further the Reign of God. If we are compassionate, let us show compassion; if we are gifted in teaching, let us teach; if we are gifted healing, let us seek to heal those who are hurting. Whatever our individual gifts are, let us boldly use them that the grace and peace of Christ might flow through us, bringing the light and love of God to the world. Let us be transformed by the Gospel, and rise from within the ways of the world that surround us to accept the challenge of radical Christianity; to go forth as a Christian community empowered by the Holy Spirit, using our God given gifts to transform the world in the name of Christ.