Learning to love, one small step at a time

The New Testament provides abundant evidence that early followers of Jesus did not share the same convictions on a variety of issues that found their way into Christian doctrine. They held very different opinions about the divinity of Jesus, the nature of God, the ministry of the Spirit, the meaning of baptism, the role of women in leadership, and more. Despite this lack of doctrinal unanimity, the membership, ministries, and influence of the early church grew inexplicably rapidly and widely.  

While reflecting on this in "The Underground Church: Reclaiming the Subversive Way of Jesus," Robin Meyers writes: "... uniformity has never and never will be achieved. The church can survive a diversity of gifts and styles, a diversity of worship and liturgy, even a diversity of ways to express the ultimate mystery that is God - but only if love rules. ...a church can survive differences of opinion. It cannot, however, survive a deficit of love."

Before nodding in agreement, remember that in scripture love is not an emotion. It is a decision, a life-changing decision about how to treat and live with everyone. Referring to members of the faith community, Jesus commands, "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another" (John 13:34). Referring to God and those around us, Jesus commands us to love God and our neighbor with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30-31; Matthew 22:34-40; Luke 10:25-28). Referring to those we prefer to ignore, Jesus commands, "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you" (Luke 6:27-28). Followers of Jesus answer a call to radical love. Loving like Jesus commands will not resolve our doctrinal disputes, but it would profoundly change all our relationships.

When acting in love comes first, no doctrinal disagreement will keep us from working beside another believer to help one of "the least of these." The hungry have little or no interest in our theological convictions or worship preferences. They want to survive and would like to know that someone sees and cares.

When loving comes first, what we do and do not believe about God matters less than what we do for and in the name of God. In an ancient Jewish tale a rabbi explains that he did not hear a baby crying because he was deeply immersed in prayer. Another rabbi charged, "If you were praying to God, God would have told you the infant was crying." Fervor and purity do not excuse us from being visible members of the Body of Christ where and when we are.

When living in love comes first, we know that although not everyone appears to deserve our prayers, God deserves our prayers for everyone. Scripture does not invite us to pick and choose for whom to pray. Because in love we want the best for all God's creatures, we pray and work for the benefit of the violent and their victims, the terrorist and the terrorized, the smug and the humble, the callous and the tender-hearted. We constantly live in the tension justice and compassion generate. As we rail with Amos, "let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream" (Amos 5:24), we also look for ways to assist those carried away by that tide.

The call to radical love we receive as followers of Jesus demands more than we can offer. It reminds us of our constant need of God's grace and each other. We learn to love like that one small step at a time. It's easier to memorize creeds and debate doctrine. Yet, when all is said and done, do we want (and does God want us) to be known as folks who always have an answer or as folks who "live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Ephesians 5:2)?

Grace and Peace,

LP

Celebrating and connecting with laborers

Most of us enjoy some time off of work on Labor Day, how many of us know that Labor Day began as a movement to promote the equality and dignity of labor? Many attribute the origin of a holiday for folks who labor to Peter McGuire, a New York City carpenter. Aware that the typical work day was ten hours and the ordinary work week was six days, that children often were exploited and women nearly always received unequal treatment in the workplace, and that complaints about poor working conditions abounded, McGuire and others planned the first Labor Day parade on September 5, 1882. Fourteen years later our Congress added the holiday to our national calendar.

We have no reason to cancel our typical Labor Day plans, but it seems right to ponder the origins of this holiday. Do we give any thought to the wages and working conditions of the laborers who make our lifestyles possible? Do we know that many of those from whose labors we benefit do not receive the minimum wage? Do the companies in which we invest try to assure that the laborers who create and transport what they manufacture and sell receive adequate compensation and work in suitable conditions? Becoming aware takes time; but truly celebrating a holiday means honoring its roots.

Nancy and I are not paragons of virtue in this arena, but we have taken small steps. We recently renovated our kitchen. Often to the chagrin of our contractor we investigated where what we planned to purchase was made and whether the firms had a good reputation for the treatment of laborers. We may have made mistakes and our decisions increased the cost of our project, but we considered it a responsibility of people called and sealed into life and ministry with one who demands that we love our neighbors as ourselves.

We've also begun purchasing more of our food locally. That does not guarantee that laborers receive a fair wage and farmers receive a fair price, but it in a small way connects us with those whose labors provide the foods we enjoy. As we get better at making those connections, our motivation for promoting the equality and dignity of labor will deepen.

Again, Nancy and I are not paragons of virtue. We are, however, trying to become more aware of those on whose labors we depend. Awareness can begin close to home. Consider something as customary for us as a worship service. Without the labor of our custodians, our building would be far less clean and comfortable. Other laborers worked in this summer's heat to improve the utility service on which we depend. Still other workers labored in the heat to keep our failing chiller operational. Another worker sometimes comes in on a day off to get our chiller running when it fails. Other laborers create, print, and fold the worship bulletins and announcement pages we peruse. This list could continue. Do we acknowledge and give thanks for those laborers?

Please celebrate Labor Day. Please also work at becoming aware of those on whose labor we depend, learning something about their treatment and compensation, and celebrating our connections with them. The more we realize how connected we are, the more readily we become the kind of neighbors Jesus calls us to be.

Grace and Peace,

LP

Please consider joining in on "Borg" events! - Harold K.

LP is on leave this week and invited Ruling Elder Harold Kolenbrander to share these thoughts.

Let me encourage you to...

Before beginning to "encourage you to..." permit me to give you a little information about the author of these comments.

I will not go back to my beginnings but start at the adult level. My educational background is as a scientist. For a few years following graduate school, I taught organic and biochemistry to college undergraduates. Then as the faculty would say, "He went astray!" That is, I found myself increasingly involved in the administrative side of college/university work. I mention this background only to indicate why I have such a strong interest in education - I spent my entire career there!

For the past few years I have had the privilege of serving on the Alton Jenkins Lecture and the Adult Education Committees. Soon, the weekend of September 28-30, we will have the privilege of hosting, in conjunction with Christ Church Cathedral, Dr. Marcus Borg as our Jenkins Lecturer. If you are like I am, you may be asking yourself "Who is Marcus Borg?" Good question. Dr. Borg held the Hundere Chair of Religion and Culture at Oregon State University until his retirement in 2007 and is the author of numerous books dealing with Christian topics. Moreover, he is widely recognized as one of the leading scholars on the topic of the historical Jesus. He has served as chair of the Historical Jesus section of the Society of Biblical Literature and is currently serving as the Canon Theologian at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in Portland, OR.

In late February and early March, with LP's skilled tutelage, about 45 of us gathered on five successive Wednesday evenings to share our thoughts regarding the ideas presented by Dr. Borg in his book entitled Speaking Christian. In this book Dr. Borg encouraged us to think along some new, sometimes challenging, lines as we explored our Christian faith and faith journeys together. At the beginning of each session, LP reminded us that we were not engaged in this process to change each other's minds or to proselytize for a particular position, but rather to encourage us to explore more deeply what our Christian faith means to each of us. I found it a deeply enriching experience!   And I have good reason to believe I was not the only one of the 45 attendees who found it so.

A couple of weeks prior to Dr. Borg's visit, LP will lead another discussion (three sessions) focusing on another of Borg's books - Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time. So here is where the "encourage you to..." comes in. I encourage you to join us for these sessions with LP and for as many of the "weekend with Marcus Borg" activities (Borg Weekend Link) as you can. I do that without hesitation knowing that you, like this septuagenarian, may find yourself challenged to think more deeply, and perhaps along some new/challenging lines and thus to enrich your faith journey. If I recall correctly, LP told us in one of his sermons that one of this year's class of confirmands had said: "Faith is hard." Indeed faith is hard and I have been struggling with new concepts and ideas that I am trying to sort out to see what will allow me to appropriately integrate faith and reason. It has not been a struggle without serious challenges for me, but it is equally important to note that the struggle has helped me grow in my faith. I am confident that the same will be true for you.

So, whether you are a novice or one who has thought long and hard about your faith, I encourage you to join us for both of these upcoming activities (LP's three sessions and the Borg weekend). I know you will be rewarded; without doubt you will be challenged and you probably will be troubled by some of the new concepts, but it will be worth the effort!

Let me encourage you to join us.

Harold M. Kolenbrander

A gnawing sense...will it be worth it?

I've begun reading Robin Meyers's "The Underground Church: Reclaiming the Subversive Way of Jesus." I knew this would not be a gentle read when the second page of the Prologue claimed, "Every Sunday morning, countless people wake up with both a desire to go to church and a gnawing sense that it won't be worth it." Then Meyers queries, "Who [in church] expects to weep at recognizing the world as it really is, or to shudder at the certainty that until we start taking risks it is likely to stay that way?" Then he charges that most sermons deal with safe generalities and avoid dangerous specifics: "They neither take off nor land on a street we recognize or in the neighborhood where we live. Then before you know it, the fasten seat belt sign comes on to announce the final hymn, even though no one has experienced a single moment of turbulence."

I have enough to ponder for the rest of the year and I've yet to make it to the first chapter. I could be intrigued by Meyers's comments because at this time of year I tentatively select texts and topics for next year's sermons and services. He also helped me to remember that more than a year ago a faithful saint asked me to preach on something akin to the "right to die," a message that would proclaim that some situations call for embracing a good death. I've never gotten around to that. Why? Do I fear turbulence? Many of us have faced or will face this issue. I did with my mother nine summers ago.

Since I'm still in the Prologue, I'm not certain whether I can recommend "The Underground Church." But I do want to ask what topics or texts the saints reading this reflection would like an upcoming sermon to address. I have in mind such daily realities as climate change, escalating violence, and worship of wealth. Goaded by Meyer's quotation of a Mary Oliver poem that speaks of the "melancholy madness" of Jesus' message, I also have in mind the more demanding aspects of following Jesus and scripture's repeated insistence that people of faith should have more hope than fear, that each of us has a call to build and serve community, that baptism changes everything, that encouraging each other is a command not a courtesy, and that God expects us to seek not avoid the troubled and the troubling.

So again, what topics, what questions about the intersection of following Jesus and daily life, and what texts would you like to discuss? Some might prove more suited for a study group than a sermon. Some might find their way into both. We might even have an occasional study that leads to a sermon prepared not solely by the assigned preacher but by a group of saints who have sought discernment together. If you have a topic or text in mind, respond to the blog site below, send an email, leave a voicemail, or write a note. I prefer signed messages because that makes it possible for us to chat. If that's too uncomfortable, opt for anonymity. I cannot promise to deal with everything suggested or to consider all topics appropriate. I do promise to take every request seriously. If we can help more folks awaken on Sunday (or any day) with certainty that going to church for worship, study, service, or fellowship is worth it, we will have been good and faithful servants - even if that does not come without turbulence!

Grace and Peace,

LP