God is in this Place?

The movement of the Spirit that is stirring moderate and progressive congregations, whether they have historically identified themselves with evangelical or mainline Protestantism, is taking form as emergent and missional communities of faith. These terms denote the reality that empowered and guided by the Holy Spirit, parts of the church are bursting through old boundaries, emerging from their shells so that they might engage in world transforming ministries. As this happens, these communities are looking again at their core identities and practices, to discern whether they can support this new work of the Spirit, so that both church and society might be transformed.

As the church adapts and moves forward, it will need to stop and engage in acts of introspection. In the course of this work of self-study, the church might be well-served by considering what the stranger might see in our communities? Consider what the person, who doesn’t know much if anything about the God church folk claim to worship, sees and hears if they should walk into the typical mainline Protestant church. Will they feel welcome and safe? Or, will they find the culture and the environment of the church to be foreign and strange? Beyond the person who has little exposure to the church’s theology and practices, we might consider other persons who venture into the community. There are any number of boundary issues that need to be considered -- gender, age, ethnicity, language, socio-economic, and cultural differences that impact one’s experience of God and the church.

When the stranger enters the community of faith, does what they hear and see suggest that the denizens of the church are, in the words of Paul, “out of your mind?” Or, do they hear and experience a message that discloses the secrets of their hearts, so that in response to their encounter in this place they fall before God in worship? Or to put it a bit differently, is it possible, that the stranger might enter into the church and declare: God is in this place (1 Corinthians 14:20-25). For many progressive/mainline churches this might seem like an odd expectation, but why is that? Why can’t we expect God’s Spirit to move in such a way that lives are changed dramatically due to their encounter with God?

This is the question that haunts the church in an age of wars and rumors of wars, an age of hate speech, drive-by shootings, growing intolerance, terrorism, bombings, and kidnappings. How do we bear witness to God’s grace and love and presence in this context? The questions become even more daunting because religious people seem to be stirring up much of the heat, while more moderate and progressive voices seem to get lost in the shuffle. Indeed, the news that is heard from pulpit and pew isn’t always good. Whether it’s “fire and brimstone” or bewailing lost influence, it often seems as if the church has lost sight of its mission. And yet the church possesses good news. This is news that if it is shared will resonate with the hearts of people who face such a wearying barrage of negativity. There are people out there, some who will enter and some who will never enter – at least not without a gentle invitation – into our houses of worship, who are looking for words of hope and peace. They want to worship a God who will open up the secrets of their hearts so that might find in God a source of healing grace. And so the question remains, if the stranger walks into the church what will she or he find? What will it take for them to say: God is in this place?

Excerpted from The Gifts of Love (unpublished mss.)

Strangers in a Strange Land -- A lectionary meditation

Isaiah 1:1, 10-20

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

Luke 12:32-40

Strangers in a Strange Land

As we ponder the lectionary texts for the upcoming Sunday, the first word we hear comes from Isaiah. This word of the prophet calls for the people to seek justice for the oppressed, the orphan, and the widow. The second text, a word from the letter to the Hebrews, brings with it a call to faith using as its basis the witness of Abraham and his descendants, who remained true to God’s promises, even though they didn’t see the fruit in their own day. Indeed, this people of God remained faithful, even though they dwelt in the land as strangers and foreigners, always seeking a better land, the heavenly city. Finally we hear Jesus say that God is pleased to give us the kingdom of God. However, if we want to receive this gift then it will require of us finding treasure in heaven, something that is accomplished by selling our possessions, giving alms, and somewhat enigmatically making purses that don’t wear out.

As I read these three texts in tandem, thinking ahead to Sunday, I’m struck by several things. First, despite what you have heard coming from some quarters, God is concerned about justice for those living on the margins of society. Indeed, while some use the Sodom and Gomorrah story to disenfranchise some in our midst because they happen to be gay or lesbian, in the prophet’s view of things Sodom and Gomorrah stand out for their resistance to justice for the oppressed, the orphan, and the widow. Even though Judah and Israel offer all manner of sacrifices, from bulls to incense, none of this matters. Indeed, the eyes of God are averted to their hands as they reach out toward heaven, and the ears of God are shut to their prayers. This isn’t how we’ve learned the Sodom and Gomorrah story, but here it is, and the fingers point toward the pious who neglect justice in the name of religion.

Then you have the well-known story of Abraham (and Sarah). This couple exemplifies the life of faith, which is defined as “the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1). We know this so well we might pass over an interesting element of the story. If you look closely at the description of Abraham you’ll discover that he is a foreigner, a stranger, one who is living in tents – together with his descendants. All died without seeing the benefits of their faith, living generation after generation as “strangers and foreigners on earth.” Again, my mind drifts of to the news, where I hear word that in this country, the country of my birth, the foreigner and the stranger are no longer welcome. Could it be that Abraham and his descendants are among those who are living in our land, looking forward to a better land – the heavenly city? Yes, I know, I’m playing with the text, teasing out possibilities that might not have “literal” support. But what does it mean to be an immigrant looking for a better land, a better life? In what way is this an expression of faith – “the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen”?

Finally, we come to the gospel lesson. Jesus offers a word of assurance – God has given you the kingdom – but you have to be ready. You need to be dressed and have your lamps lit, because you don’t know when the master will come? Yes, the one whom Abraham and his descendants had waited for all these generations might come at any moment – so be ready. And how might one prepare for the coming of the master? According to Jesus it involves selling your possessions and giving alms, so that by doing this, one will make purses that don’t wear out.

Once again we find the text of scripture offering a discomforting message. It challenges our capitalist identities. It challenges our loyalties. It reminds us that piety is not enough, for God isn’t impressed by our offerings or our prayers if we treat our neighbor in an ungodly manner.

Isaiah, speaking for God, puts forth the challenge – “come now, let us argue it out.” We’re used to the KJV rendering — “Come now, and let us reason together” – but as much as I like a dispassionate, reasoned conversation, the NRSV rendering provides more conviction – so you think you’re on the right track, well let’s have it out – verbally that is! But the promise is one of redemption – “your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow.” There is a promise here, one full of grace, but it is also one that requires of us a true accounting of our love of neighbor – even the neighbor who lives on the margins, who has been denied justice, and who might, as was true of Abraham, live in our midst as a foreigner and a stranger.

 

Reposted from [D]mergent, a Disciples of Christ oriented blog