Newsletter: Pilgrims and Pioneers

The great Puritan, John Bunyan, titled his book about Christian discipleship, "Pilgrims Progress." Sadly, we don’t usually associate pilgrimage and the Christian life. In fact, the only time our thoughts settle on pilgrims at all is around the end of November. Next to the cans of pumpkin and cranberry sauce are cardboard cut-outs of smiling, black and white clad pilgrims carrying blunderbusses. They remain a cultural memory, more shadow than substance.

Still Bunyan knew his Bible, and his words were chosen carefully. Paul reminds the Philippians that "our commonwealth is in heaven" (3:20). Peter calls the church, "exiles" or "sojourners" (1 Peter 1:1). The Christian life is journey, and we must realize that ultimately this fallen world is not our home. We are pilgrims through this land.

Those words are a comfort. How many times are we told, "The world ain’t fair"? Acknowledging the truth of the comment, we still wish that it was. We don’t want to submit to the injustice and the inequities of the world. Knowing that we are mere pilgrims helps keep us sane. No wonder we act different. No wonder we love our enemies. No wonder we forgive one another. We don’t really belong here.

That being said, some have taken a comfort and made it a hiding place. As citizens of God’s kingdom who reside in the kingdom of the world, we understand that folks don’t understand us. We recognize that ultimately God will set things right. We long for the sweet-by-and-by. Our danger lies in ignoring the world around us. As someone once complained, "Christians are so heavenly minded that they are no earthly good." That is a misunderstanding of the faith we profess.

Our longing for home drives our desire for mercy here. We live in a heavenly colony–an outpost for God on a wild frontier. Not only are we pilgrims, but we are also pioneers. We live and love differently than the world, witnessing to the good news of Jesus Christ. We are called to be peacemakers in a world without peace, to thirst for righteousness in a world which has a price for everything. We make an impact, following the teachings of our Lord in a world which remains hostile to it.

Newsletter: People of the Book

Christians, they say, are people of the book. That book is the Bible. As the Westminster Confession states, the Scriptures are our "rule of faith and life." Our knowledge of God is rooted in the Scriptures alone. However, I believe that most of us are people of another book as well. On my desk, not to far from my Bible is the bible of the twenty-first century America, the day-planner.

Whether paper or electronic, simple or complex, most of us have some kind of day-planner. The most disorganized among us have several. Even our youth are careful about their schedules--squeezing every minute out of their weeks. Our second grader, Thomas, has recently gotten his first planner. Every day, he carefully records his assignments. His parents hope that he will grow up to be a proper Presbyterian, doing everything "decently and in order."

Although we in the Church may have fights over the authority of Scripture, I am amazed that we have no difficulty with the authority of day-planners. If you don't believe me, pay attention the next time some asks you for an appointment.

"I'm sorry, but my calendar is full that day."
"Oh, how how about next week."

No one questions the calendar. Once something is written there it is as sacred as the Word of God.

All this being said, what do our day-planners say about us? Exercising careful stewardship over time means more than knowing where it all went. We also have the responsibility to make priorities. All of us should take a careful look at our day planners. Do our schedules allow time for prayer, Bible reading, and worship? Do we have time to build relationships with friends and family? Do we allow time for Sabbath? Our spiritual lives take time. If we live by our day-planners, then they should reflect that fact.

Every moment is a precious gift from God. Not a single one should be wasted. Every moment, every appointment, every meeting should be dedicated to God.

Newsletter: Wrestling with Katrina

When adversity struck the biblical character of Job, only his wife and friends were on hand to offer their observations and criticisms. After Hurricane Katrina, a plethora of cable news reporters offered commentary 24 hours-a-day, every day. The real pain and suffering of the Gulf coast came into our homes every moment. How many times did the media personages stick microphones under the tired faces and ask, "How do you feel? Tell me about your experiences." The airwaves have been filled with accusations and questions:

"Why did local, state, and federal officials respond the way they did?"
"Why were we not better prepared?"
"Why did so many have to die?"
"Why are so many hurting?"
"Why..."

From the belly of the fish, Jonah cried, "For thou didst cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood was round about me; all thy waves and thy billows passed over me" (Jonah 2:3). This month, these words could have been spoken from New Orleans, Gulfport or Bogalusa. Where is God when the bad stuff happens?

Theologians call this question, "theodicy" meaning "the justice of God." If God is good, and God is all powerful, why can't little children in Mississippi find their parents? A variety of answers have been offered. God has granted us free will. The devil and his minions are at work. Original sin has corrupted all of creation. Suffering serves as spiritual training wheels. There is some truth in these and others that could be added to the list. Nonetheless, all explanations remain unsatisfying in the face of a Katrina. We don't want an explanation. We want a solution.

Looking at the death and resurrection of Jesus, we know that pain and sorrow do not get the last word. We have a hope rooted firmly because of what God has already accomplished. We are a people who believe the good news of God despite what we see on CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News. We are to live and love according to God's greater reality. That is the root of the Christian understanding of mission. In the face of hopelessness, we witness to the eternal hope of our Lord and Savior.

Grace and Peace,
James

Newsletter: Happy New Year!

The giant lighted ball has not dropped in Times Square, and Dick Clark is conspicuously absent from our televisions, but it is the start of a new year at our church. The session and the committees are working hard to make goals for next year. We are trying to discern where God is leading this church. I’m excited about the direction that our congregation is heading. We have some wonderful opportunities ahead of us.

I’ve always thought that August seems a better start of the year than January. Perhaps, I have been conditioned by 28 years of schooling--my education, Thomas’ elementary experience, and my time as a public school teacher. I never made resolutions on January 1st. I began mine on the first day of school. For some reason, brand new spiral notebooks and unsharpened yellow pencils have always inspired optimism in me. Maybe I’m weird, but new pencil boxes, new scissors and a new bottle of glue suggested that life had limitless possibilities. The slate was wiped clean, and life began anew.

Unfortunately, the optimism of the first day of school never lasts. Before breaking our first crayon, the world hands out disappointment. We run out of erasers long before we run out of pencils. After countless years, we are again surprised by our broken promises. Still, God remains faithful. Thankfully, hope is not based on new school supplies. God’s kept promises sustain us long after our good intentions like our markers have run dry.

As we prepare for the future of our congregation, we will occasionally face disappointment. All the great plans we make will not turn out exactly as expected. Our discernment is imperfect. Our plans are merely poor reflections of God’s plans. Still, I remain excited and optimistic. “The human mind plans the way, but the Lord directs the steps” (Proverbs 16:9) The certainty of God’s love overshadows our missteps. God’s plans do not fail. That is the source of our hope and joy.

Tsunami Hymn

I just found this hymn written on the occasion of the occasion of the recent Asian tsunami. It is set to Bach's "Passion Chorale." Although we need to learn that lamentation is an appropriate response of faith, this hymn does not do it for me.

http://www.gbod.org/worship/music/greattsunami-gillette.pdf

This must be the first time that I've heard the words, "Sewage is washed down river," in a hymn.

That being said, there are a number of hymns of Carolyn Winfrey Gillette that I enjoy--including some settings of biblical passages and the Apostles Creed.

http://firstpresby.org/hymnlist.htm

Grace & Peace,
James

Bishop Spong and his Clerical Collar

I finally saw Resurrection: Searching for Answers, a 20/20 special on ABC. For a secular report, I found it balanced. I’m so relieved that ABC did not once again display their collection of hackneyed "scholars" from the Jesus Seminar, peddling their Nineteenth Century observations as new and enlightened. For those interested in that dog and pony show, 20/20 did give air time to Bishop John Shelby Spong.

On the ABC special, like every television appearance of him that I’ve seen, Bishop Spong was dressed in his clerical collar. The clerical collar symbolizes being chained or enslaved to Jesus Christ. Such language bothers the bishop. One might wonder why Spong chooses to display such backward and primitive symbols. My guess is that Spong wishes to gain media attention. Put any old critic of Christianity in a clerical collar, and you have an exciting scandal on your hand. He uses the instant credibility gained from wearing the collar to deny cherished truths of the faith, such as the resurrection. Whether he intends it or not, the clerical collar serves as a Trojan horse allowing his every attack to score greater damage. Interestingly, the retired right reverend who rails against the hierarchical church has no qualms about benefitting from his rank. Hypocrisy, plain and simple.

Trinity III: Creative Language

Some who have read the last few posts probably think that I’m just cranky and unappreciative of metaphor and creative language. The draft authors cite John Calvin’s commentary on Isaiah 46:3, suggesting his openness to female imagery in speaking about God. Although I quoted the verse in the last post, here it is again.

“Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb;” (Isaiah 46:3, NRSV)

The verse does give feminine characteristics to God. Here is what John Calvin writes.

…Here the Prophet beautifully points out the vast difference between the true God and idols. Having formerly said that the Babylonian gods must be drawn on waggons and carts, because they consist of dead matter, he now ascribes a widely different office to the God of Israel, namely, that he "carries" his people, like a mother, who carries the child in her womb, and afterwards carries it in her bosom…

This is a very expressive metaphor, by which God compares himself to a mother who carries a child in her womb. He speaks of the past time, when he began to give them testimonies of his grace. Yet the words might be taken as meaning simply that God kindly nourished that people, like an infant taken from its mother's womb, and carried it in his bosom…

If it be objected, that God is everywhere called "a Father," and that this title is more appropriate to him, I reply, that no figures of speech can describe God's extraordinary affection towards us; for it is infinite and various; so that, if all that can be said or imagined about love were brought together into one, yet it would be surpassed by the greatness of the love of God. By no metaphor, therefore, can his incomparable goodness be described. If you understand it, simply to mean that God, from the time that he begat them, gently carried and nourished them in his bosom, this will agree admirably with what we find in the Song of Moses,

"He bore them, and carried them, as an eagle carrieth her young on her wings."

In a word, the intention of the Prophet is to shew, that the Jews, if they do not choose to forget their descent, cannot arrive at any other conclusion than that they were not begotten in vain, and that God, who has manifested himself to be both their Father and their Mother, will always assist them; and likewise, that they have known his power by uninterrupted experience, so that they ought not to pay homage to idols.

“God cares for us like a mother.” “We suckle upon the word which God alone gives.” I can accept creative language, even feminine imagery for God. Still, I am concerned about the limitations of all theological language. Whether traditional or new, theological language must never be used to further an ideology. Likewise, the acceptance of feminine imagery for God does not mean the replacement of the traditional formulation of the Trinity.

Calvin suggests, at least here, that he himself is not too bothered by feminine imagery for God. If we grant that Calvin was a pretty smart guy, one might ask why he did not discard the traditional formulation of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Calvin did not even supplement the traditional language with the “historically faithful yet freshly imaginative”. Perhaps one reason might be that with other language we would lose too much. The Trinity as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit says much about our understanding of Christology and soteriology. Other formulations are lacking. Be creative, but avoid giving up the heart of the faith.

Trinity II: Muddy Metaphor

I’m still considering the recent document produced by a task force of the PCUSA, “The Trinity: God’s Love Overflowing.” As I mentioned in my last post, our language for the Trinity is not a simple analogy which can be changed with creative whim. Nonetheless, the authors of the draft statement give us several new examples declaring them, “historically faithful yet freshly imaginative.” Here are some examples:

As we worship, the Triune God is the One to Whom, the One by Whom, and the One in Whom we offer our praise (Basil of Caesarea).

As we seek God's grace and wholeness, acknowledging the sin and brokenness in us, our human communities, and the creation, the Triune God is our Rainbow of Promise, our Ark of Salvation, and our Dove of Peace.

As we read, proclaim, hear, and live out the message of Scripture, theTriune God is known to us as Speaker, Word, and Breath.

In baptism, the Triune God is for us Overflowing Font, Living Water, Flowing River. (BCW, p. 412; John 4:10, 13-14; John 7:37).

As we are born anew by water and the Spirit, the Triune God is Compassionate Mother, Beloved Child, and Life-giving Womb (Isaiah 49:15; 66:13; Matthew 3:17; Isaiah 46:3).

As we grow in grace, the Triune God is our Sun, Ray, and Warmth (Gregory of Nyssa).

As we offer ourselves, our resources, and our gratitude in stewardship and Eucharist, the Triune God is Giver, Gift, and Giving.

In celebrating the communion of our life together in Christ, the Triune God is Lover, Beloved, and the Love that binds together Lover and Beloved (Augustine).

As members of the believing community, we acknowledge the Triune God as our Rock, Cornerstone, and Temple (Psalm 28:1, Ephesians 2:20-21).

When we must speak of God's wrath in the face of evil, the Triune God is for us Fire that Consumes, Hammer that Breaks, Storm that Melts Mountains(Hebrews 12:20, Jeremiah 23:29, Psalm 97:5).

Each of these examples is problematic.

I can’t speak to each of the historical examples, but I am aware that Augustine’s formulation is taken from his theological analysis. I suspect the references to Basil of Caesarea and Gregory of Nyssa similarly taken from larger theological works. Using this formulations apart from the greater theological context is misleading. Moreover, Augustine uses his language to clarify the meaning of the Trinity as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit not replace it.

In addition, the scriptural examples are not actually scriptural. Instead, the images are strewn together by cutting and pasting biblical metaphor and language. Just because each component of the threesome may reference Scripture, the whole is not necessarily the sum of its parts. The internal relationship within the three is not implied by the Scripture itself. For example, although each of the words, rock, cornerstone and temple, exist in Scripture, they do not exist together. For that matter, what is the relationship between rock, cornerstone and temple? Is the Cornerstone hewn from the Rock? Are the bricks of the Temple hewn from the Rock? What is the real relationship between the three? Is that relationship consistent with what we know about the Trinity?

Likewise, the biblical references for many of the examples are suspect. Consider the following examples:

…the Triune God is our Rainbow of Promise, our Ark of Salvation, and our Dove of Peace.

Here is a biblical allusion to the story of Noah. I actually like the comparison between the Son of God, Jesus Christ, and the ark which saves humanity. Granted, the ark has often been used as a symbol for the Church, but the themes of salvation in the story are rich. However, calling the first person of the Trinity a rainbow misses the mark. It confuses the sign of God’s covenant with God. Likewise, the internal relationship between rainbow, ark, and dove also seems remote to the Trinity.

…we acknowledge the Triune God as our Rock, Cornerstone, and Temple.

The most confusing reference here is for the third person of the Trinity. Consider the Scriptural reference:

In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit. (Ephesians 2:21-22)

It’s pretty clear from the context that the Temple is the community of faith, the Church. The Spirit is not the Temple. The Spirit could be understood as who binds Church to Christ and one to each other. Given this, a better representation for Spirit might be Mortar. Even this is a poor excuse for the traditional language. Rock, Cornerstone and Temple (Mortar) cannot be a personal God. The whole thing creates more confusion than it clarifies.

…the Triune God is Compassionate Mother, Beloved Child, and Life-giving Womb.

Again the metaphor for the third person of the Trinity has scant or nonexistent biblical support. Here is the text that the draft authors used for support:

“Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb;” (Isaiah 46:3, NRSV)

How does this suggest that the Spirit is like a womb? If we consider the Nicene Creed which states that “the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son,” does that mean the Womb proceeds from the Mother and the Child? Does any of this make sense?

Trinity I: Analogous Language?

The 212th General Assembly (2000) authorized the formation of a task force to study the doctrine of the Trinity. The task force has produced a thirty-five page draft paper entitled, “The Trinity: God’s Love Overflowing.” The Office of Theology and Worship of the PCUSA is looking for feedback on the document.

Although I’m glad, that we are writing papers speaking to the importance of the Trinity. I am also pleased at the praise the paper affords the traditional formulation of the Trinity as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

With the witness of Scripture, the ecumenical creeds, and the Reformed confessions and liturgies, we regularly speak of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Presbyterian Church (USA) respects and values this way of speaking of the Triune God, resisting any tendency to discard or diminish it. The language of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, etched in Scripture and creed, remains an indispensable anchor for our efforts to speak faithfully of God. If our lifeline to this anchor is frayed or severed, the historic faith of the one, holy, catholic, apostolic church risks being set adrift.

Nevertheless, the authors of the draft paper suggest that all language of the Trinity is merely analogy. I’m not sure that I agree. For early Christians and for centuries afterward, these titles were not mere analogies. For example, to what would the language of “Holy Spirit” be analogous? Moreover, calling God, Father, and Jesus, the Son, speaks of the special relationship between God and Jesus. In the Scriptures, Jesus calls God, his Father, several times. Elsewhere God announces on different occasions that Jesus is “my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.” These references are not hidden in parables. They are not simile or metaphor. The writers of Scripture understood them as titles for God and Jesus. Biblical writers would see a difference between, for example, calling Jesus, “the son of God,” and “the cornerstone.” Moreover, the only direct biblical mandate we have for naming the Trinity in worship (Matthew 28:19) is the traditional language -- Jesus tells the disciples to baptize in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

I will grant that our theological language is limited. Even the traditional language of the Trinity may be abused or misunderstood. I believe the Church should teach, clarify, and warn against the abuse of the language. Instead, the draft authors want to add to the confusion by creating inferior substitutes.

Prudence & the Doctrine of Sin

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/05/05/opinion/05brooks.html?n=Top%2fOpinion%2fEditorials%20and%20Op%2dEd%2fOp%2dEd%2fColumnists%2fDavid%20Brooks&oref=login

I must make a confession. I really enjoy reading David Brooks. His amateur anthropology of the American situation is perceptive and engaging. His breezy writing style disarms readers. He is a compelling essayist because he loves his subject matter. That being said, Brooks has his shortcomings. He is better suited to the medium of the essay. His books read like a string of essays, not all of the same quality. He also has a tendency of simplification. He sees modern American life as self-contradictory (for example, he celebrates the rise of the bourgeois bohemians), and then celebrates the synthesis.

In a recent column for the New York Times, Brooks appears at his best and not-so-best. Writing about the continuing American debate between the religious and secular, he lifts up the example of Abraham Lincoln.

“…Lincoln was neither a scoffer nor a guy who could talk directly to God. Instead, he wrestled with faith, longing to be more religious, but never getting there.”

Brooks sees Lincoln as the solution to our cultural divide. We need to acknowledge the great power of religion, yet we shouldn’t be too quick to embrace it.

“Today, a lot of us are stuck in Lincoln's land. We reject the bland relativism of the militant secularists. We reject the smug ignorance of, say, a Robert Kuttner, who recently argued that the culture war is a contest between enlightened reason and dogmatic absolutism. But neither can we share the conviction of the orthodox believers, like the new pope, who find maximum freedom in obedience to eternal truth. We're a little nervous about the perfectionism that often infects evangelical politics, the rush to crash through procedural checks and balances in order to reach the point of maximum moral correctness.”

I agree with Brooks that Lincoln’s devotion to “prudence” would benefit Christians in politics. Pat Robertson’s desire to deny Muslims appointments as judges solely based upon their faith is a wonderful case in point. Some conservatives are concerned that some judges are being filibustered based upon their religious beliefs rather than how they would judge. In contrast, Robertson’s words implies that religious tests are okay as long as they don’t apply to conservative Christians. “Prudence” would dictate that Robertson’s position is blatantly unfair.

However, I disagree with David Brooks that “prudence” is found only outside of orthodox religious belief. Christianity, especially Protestant Christianity, has understood that humanity has been corrupted by sin. As a result, all human activity, including our good works, are tainted. The good intentions of political reformers are not enough. The “rush to crash through procedural checks and balances” is not mandated by the Christian religion. The doctrine of humanity’s sinfulness should give Christians the healthy dose of skepticism that Brooks desires.

Brooks is right to be critical of some evangelical Christians in the public square, but in the process, he has slandered many more.

Reality TV & Christian Disciplines

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2005/04/30/ntv230.xml&sSheet=/news/2005/04/30/ixhome.html

Apparently the latest incarnation of reality TV has actually made a real world impact. The show was produced in England for the BBC 2 and is called, “The Monastery.” Five men including an atheist who produced pornography joined a Benedictine monastery for forty days. There the five followed the monastery rules including a strict schedule for instruction, study, prayer, reflection and work. They were also obliged to follow the monks’ rules of silence, obedience, and humility. There was resistance at first. Two were reprimanded for leaving the monastery “looking for virgins and cigarettes.” Still, each one experienced change in his life.

By the end, the atheist, Tony Burke, 29, became a believer and gave up his job producing trailers for a sex chat line after having what he described as a "religious experience".

Gary McCormick, 36, the former Ulster Defence Association member, who spent much of his early life in prison, began to overcome his inner demons.

Peter Gruffydd, a retired teacher, regained the faith he had rejected in his youth and Nick Buxton, 37, a Cambridge undergraduate, edged closer to becoming an Anglican priest.

The fifth "novice", 32-year-old Anthony Wright, who works for a London legal publishing company, started to come to terms with his childhood traumas.
…
At the end of one of these sessions, Mr Burke, his voicing breaking with emotion, confessed his feelings in a video-diary entry. "I didn't want this to happen," he said.

"But something touched me, something spoke to me very deeply. It was a religious experience.

"When I woke up this morning, I didn't believe in this but, as I speak to you now, I do. Whatever it is, I believe in it."

I’m not really surprised that all five experienced something during the experiment. To be emerged in prayer and scripture, including all 150 Psalms each week, for forty days is bound to make an impact. Perhaps, this is a reminder that we should be drawn closer to the community of faith, the Scriptures and prayer.

Actually, I am a bit jealous. To live for forty days focusing on Christ and my life in Him without distraction would be quite a luxury. We live continually with the worries of life, and we need to develop disciplines necessary for lives in motion. Prayer, Scripture, Eucharist, and fellowship become ever more essential because of life‘s inevitable distractions. Sometimes I wonder if all of humanity has a case of spiritual ADD. We need to be reminded over and over about the good news of God in Jesus Christ otherwise we quickly forget.

Correcting a News Release

I was reading the news releases of the PCUSA this morning, and I noticed one about the Disciples of Christ Church. Apparently they have elected a woman to be general minister and president for the first time. That's great, but then the article made the astounding claim...

"No mainline denomination larger than the Christian Church has ever had a woman in the top position. In the 2.3 million-member Episcopal Church, for example, the highest position a woman has ever held is diocesan bishop."

I realize that the article was not written by the PC(USA) Office of Communication, but shouldn't someone be checking these reports?

As of 2003, the total membership of the PC(USA) is 2,405,311 which is larger than the cited example of the Episcopal Church. In 1972, Lois Stair was elected first woman moderator of the General Assembly, UPCUSA. In 1978, Sarah Moseley was elected first woman moderator of the General Assembly, PCUS.

In the 75th anniversary of ordaining women as ruling elders and the 50th anniversary of ordaining women as ministers of Word and Sacrament, the PC(USA) shouldn't allow such misconceptions to stand.

Update: Sidestepping the Resurrection

In a recent post, I criticized Cynthia Rigby’s recent article in the Presbyterian Outlook. Apparently, I’m not the only one who was puzzled by her reluctance to give straight answers on the reality of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. She has responded to criticism in the latest edition of the Outlook.

Specifically, I bear witness to our confessional claims that "Jesus Christ rose again from the dead" and that one day we, too – as members of the communion of saints – will be bodily resurrected. This is what I believe. More importantly: this is what we believe, as Christians. The article clearly does not bring these beliefs into question, but seeks to explore how they make a difference in our lives of discipleship.

Although I still affirm that Dr. Rigby’s choice of words muddled her intent, I am glad to stand corrected. Moreover, I stand by my original comment that her observations about the implications of the resurrection are "intelligent and cogent."

Bill Moyer's Inner Voice

I was directed to a transcript of Bill Moyers show on PBS, Wide Angle. Here Moyers speaks with author James Carroll about the Roman Catholic Church and the new pope. Much of the conversation was a rehash of the negative criticisms that I’ve mentioned before. However, part of the dialogue demanded comment.

BILL MOYERS: What do you think the new pope would make of the CNN/USA Today Gallup poll a few days ago in which three quarters of American Catholics say they're more likely to follow their own conscience on, quote, "difficult moral questions," rather than the teachings of Pope Benedict?

JAMES CARROLL: Well, Pope Benedict probably would say that poll suggests one of the things that's wrong with American Catholicism. But I would say the opposite. American Catholicism has been a source for the Catholic Church as a whole of the discovery of the primacy of conscience. Every human being owes ultimate allegiance to his or her conscience. We also owe responsibly. We owe to the broader community the process of testing our conscience against what the broader community says. But finally, there can be no doubt that we have to do as our inner voice tells us. Now that -- that's a tradition that's powerfully out of the Protestant, American culture.

BILL MOYERS: Yes. The priesthood of the believer is what I was taught growing up.

JAMES CARROLL: Yes, it's true.

BILL MOYERS: That each of us has our own conscience that we honor, no matter what authority says.

Whether Carroll is right about the contributions of American Catholics, I won’t venture a guess. However, both Carroll and Moyers have a bizarre understanding of the Protestant teaching, "the priesthood of all believers." This doctrine has nothing to do with following inner voices or rejecting authority to follow our own consciences.

Drawing on the imagery from 1 Peter 2:4-10, the protestant reformers taught that the Church itself acted as a priesthood "that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light." Protestant reformers understood that the priesthood of all believers was rooted in the high priesthood of Jesus Christ. Our reconciliation to God is dependent wholly upon Him. Jesus Christ alone is the mediator between God and humanity. As a result, there is no caste system in the church. Salvation is not dependent on popes and priests. Martin Luther writes,

"That all Christians are truly of the Spiritual Estate, and there is no difference among them, save of office alone. As St. Paul says, we are all one body, though each member does its own work, to serve the others. This is because we have one baptism, one gospel, one faith, and are all Christians alike; for baptism, gospel and faith, these alone make Spiritual and Christian people."

If spiritual authority does not rest in popes, where does it rest? Carroll and Moyers believe it lies with the individual conscience. I choose. I decide. In this, they recall a famous phrase from the Westminster Confession, "God alone is Lord of the conscience." However, again they miss the mark. Reformed Christians have understood that sin is pervasive. Even our best is tainted by sin’s stain. As a result, our conscience needs help. Here is the complete quote from the Westminster Confession:

"God alone is Lord of the conscience and has left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men, which are, in any thing, contrary to His Word; or beside it, if matters of faith, or worship."

According to Westminster, Scripture provides the necessary check on our inner voices. Luther, himself under the rallying cry of solo scriptura, would certainly agree. Still, Luther even suggests that the Christian community itself has some claim to authority. While addressing the meaning of ordained ministry within the priesthood of believers, he writes,

"Because we are all priests of equal standing, no one must push himself forward and take it upon himself, without our consent and election, to do that for which we all have equal authority. For no one dare take upon himself what is common to all without the authority and consent of the community."

Submitting to Scripture and to the voice of the Church under Scripture may be a messy process, but it is certainly superior to what occurred under the judges in Israel: "Every man did was right in his own sight" (Judges 21:25).

Ironically, Bill Moyers elsewhere has complained that conservative Christians are too individualistic, yet he embraces a view of authority which sees nothing higher than the individual. Moyers should know better.

Maureen Dowd & the Pope

From the standpoint of a Protestant clergyman, there was much to be celebrated in Pope John Paul’s reign. As a result, I am generally hopeful for the new pontificate. Benedict XVI was a close confidant of John Paul II, and I expect many of the same policies. I am amazed, however, at the venom directed at this Pope.

In a recent article, Maureen Dowd compares Pope Benedict XVI with Vice President Dick Cheney awarding both with prominent positions in the pantheon of villainy.

The two, from rural, conservative parts of their countries, want to turn back the clock and exorcise New Age silliness. Mr. Cheney wants to dismantle the New Deal and go back to 1937. Pope Benedict XVI wants to dismantle Vatican II and go back to 1397. As a scholar, his specialty was "patristics," the study of the key thinkers in the first eight centuries of the church.

Granted, both Pope Benedict and John Paul have been critical of excesses done in the name of Vatican II. Still, both were at Vatican II, and both have publicly embraced the council. In fact, Pope Benedict, in his former role, excommunicated an outspoken critic unwilling to heed the reforms of Vatican II. Moreover, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith which Benedict headed is a far cry from the Inquisition. In fact, to suggest otherwise is to dishonor the memory of those who faced the Inquisition.

Finally, I almost groaned at Dowd’s mention of "patristics." Actually, I wished more church leaders had knowledge of the first eight centuries of church. The protestant reformers certainly knew the Church Fathers as well as they knew the Scriptures. Athanasius or Augustine can certainly teach us more about the church than the New York Times.

Hardball, Roman Catholics & Birth Control

Joseph Ratzinger is now Pope Benedict XVI. I pray that the God be with him and guide his pontificate. I have watched the pomp and circumstance surrounding the conclave with curiosity. I have watched the attendant media circus with dismay. Much of the commentary has been vapid. I know more about the Roman Catholic Church than many of the "expert" opinions that have been crowding the airways.

One of my favorite examples occurred on Hardball on MSNBC.

Chris Matthews pleads with Fr. Andrew Greeley, "Why is it wrong to have birth control? I don‘t quite understand that. Explain that to me, Father."

Greeley responds, "I would have a hard time defending it, Chris."

Now, if Chris Matthews was really concerned about the rationale behind the Roman Catholic teaching on birth control, why didn’t he book someone other than Andrew Greeley. There are plenty of folks who know what they are talking about. Instead the issue is dropped as if there is no reason.

Don’t get me wrong. I disagree with the Roman Catholic church on key doctrinal issues, but at least I respect it. The Roman Catholic Church has taken the past two millenniums of Church history seriously. Thinkers as diverse as Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Francis of Assisi, Ignatius of Loyola, and John Paul the Great are all celebrated within the church. Moreover, Protestants could learn much from Catholic social teachings on war and peace, poverty, labor, and life.

A Moral Voice?

Rev. Albert Keller in the Presbyterian Outlook has written a piece about the issues surrounding the death of Terri Shaivo. He urges the church to offer a "moral voice" on death. However, one sentence shouted out at me (emphasis added).

Stewardship: not to use a disproportionate share of common resources to hang on when it is time to lay life down; not to complicate the grief of loved ones with unfinished business; not to leave important medical and legal decisions un-addressed.

I do not hear a "moral voice." In fact, the voice I hear horrifies me. When is it time to "lay life down?" The answer to that question is key. Should patients with Alzheimer disease "lay life down?" Should the mentally handicapped? Should people with Parkinson disease? Sadly the argument about limited resources has been used to justify the extermination of the undesirable. Granted, I have taken these words out of context, and I hope that this is outside of the author’s intent.

Terri Shaivo, according to some, has been dead for fifteen years. They suggest that pulling the feeding tube was the right moral action because the woman was dead already. If Terri Shaivo was truly dead, I would agree. In that case, the cause of death would not be starvation or dehydration. However, the author of the article has not taken this position. In fact, he compares euthanasia with Jesus dying on the cross or Martin Luther King Jr heading to Memphis. Rev. Keller understands each of these as active decisions–"laying done one’s life."

The Church has traditionally made a distinction between suicide and martyrdom. The distinction is not always easily discerned, but it still remains. For example, we generally do not consider the fireman who rushes into a burning building to save others as suicidal. Death in these circumstances is not the objective. Rev. Keller does not even appear to be aware of such distinctions.

Perhaps, Rev. Keller is warning that life itself can become an idol. Perhaps, he’s right. However, I find that "quality of life" is an easier idol. We work, spend, and sacrifice for the sake of a particular quality of life. When that quality becomes elusive, many are willing to sacrifice life itself.

Newsletter: Treasure in Clay Jars

I have read that in the final moments of the life of Pope John Paul II, he motioned for the window where he often blessed the crowds. In his weakened and frail condition, he reached outward to complete the blessing, and spoke his final word, "Amen." In the last few years, the world watched as this pastor, theologian, and political leader struggled with his mortality.

The recent news coverage reminded me of another man, Rev. James Baldwin. James was a Presbyterian minister whom I knew in Ohio. In younger days, James served as driver for a chaplain during World War II. He watched as the chaplain would perform countless funerals for innumerable boys who gave the ultimate sacrifice. After James came home, he himself entered seminary and the ministry. James was a kind, compassionate man. He was a man of deep faith and conviction. When he spoke the Word of God, he spoke with authority, not merely because of his booming baritone voice, but because he submitted himself to that Word.

Before coming to Texas, I served as a student minister for two congregations. Without ordination, I could not serve communion to the people. We would often contact retired ministers to help us with the Lord’s Supper. That is how I met James Baldwin. He was in his last years of life. He was frail, weakened by age and illness. Sometimes he became confused. Still, looking into his eyes, one could easily see Rev. Baldwin as the great man he was.

When he administered Holy Communion, I would stand next to him to steady his step. As James raised the bread above his head and broke it, he would tell us about the broken body of Jesus Christ. In a sense, the pastor was broken as well–broken by his own mortality. Where others might be embarrassed by the sight of this weak elderly man, I was greatly moved. Despite his infirmities, God used James Baldwin.

The Scriptures teach us that we are merely clay jars (2 Cor 4:7). We are common and fragile, yet God uses us to hold his treasures. We necessarily approach life with humility, recognizing that our greatness is really God’s glory. Moreover, we learn that no one is worthless. Even the weakest, the dying, and the afflicted among us is worthy as God’s instrument. We shouldn’t be surprised. After all, our God ordained that the path of victory would be through a cross.

Terri Shiavo and Human Dignity

The Terri Shiavo case has been dominating the news for the past several days. I have been frustrated by those who have suggested that her life should be dependent on the potentiality of recovery. The fact is Terri will not recover, barring some miracle. (For the record, I do believe in miracles.) She may improve slightly with increased therapy and better care, but she will remain severely incapacitated. Doctors suggest that less than 20% of her brain is functioning. Still, her situation is not terminal. She is not brain dead, and she responds to outside stimuli. Accepting that there is no potentiality of recovery, does she deserve to die?

One of the better articles that I have read has been by Eric Cohen, a scholar at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. In How Liberalism Failed Terri Shiavo, Cohen offers a fair reporting of the facts of the case, and then explores the ethical issues involved. He suggests that we have framed the ethical dilemma inappropriately. Instead of focusing on Terri’s wishes, as interpreted by her husband and family, we should ask what obligation does humanity have for those severely handicapped.

But the real lesson of the Schiavo case is not that we all need living wills; it is that our dignity does not reside in our will alone, and that it is foolish to believe that the competent person I am now can establish, in advance, how I should be cared for if I become incapacitated and incompetent. The real lesson is that we are not mere creatures of the will: We still possess dignity and rights even when our capacity to make free choices is gone; and we do not possess the right to demand that others treat us as less worthy of care than we really are.

I find it fascinating that Christianity grew so rapidly in its beginning partly because Christians valued life. They would not kill babies by exposure. They would care for orphans, the sick, and the elderly. When a plague would hit a town, the Christians would stay behind and care for the dying. New converts were attracted by their compassion.

Our faith teaches us that people are not statistics, puppets, or nuisances. Each person has dignity. With that in mind, I was amazed to read about one of the protestors for Terri Shiavo in Florida. Eleanor Smith is an activist, a self-professed lesbian and liberal, confined to a wheelchair because of polio. A few days ago she stated, "At this point I would rather have a right-wing Christian decide my fate than an ACLU member."

Recommeded Reading

Another article from a former professor. This one is a devotional by Rev. Dr. Craig Barnes, pastor of Shadyside Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh, entitled the Judas Chromosome written for the Christian Century. I heartily recommend his writings and sermons. I also freely admit his influence on my understanding of ministry and the gospel.

Here’s an excerpt…

Could it be that the real reason we show betrayers so little compassion is that we’re afraid there is some Judas chromosome within all of us? We hate the thought that we too are capable of betraying trust. When Jesus claimed that one of the Twelve would betray him, the anxiety within all of their souls rushed to the surface. “Surely not I, Lord?” They might as well have said, “I’ve been worried about that, but I thought I had it under control.”