Bob Kaylor

The Honor of Humility - Philippians 2:1-13

As part of the Doctor of Ministry program, I had the chance to travel to Willow Creek Community Church near Chicago for their leadership conference. Willow Creek is one of the poster children of the megachurch movement that brought terms like “seeker sensitive” and “unchurched” into the ecclesiastical vernacular. They average about 21,000 in attendance on a weekend, so I’m told, which is why one of the first things you see when you enter the long driveway is a “fast track” parking lot where you catch a shuttle to the main building. It gives the place a kind of “Six Flags Over Christianity” vibe, but it’s still pretty impressive.

This was my first trip there and I have to admit that it’s easy to get a little ga-ga over the whole thing. After all, how many clergy serve churches that have escalators, mezzanine and upper deck seating with numbered sections, concession stands, a food court, Starbucks-like coffee cafes, a bookstore that rivals a Barnes and Noble, and sound, video and lighting systems that make, say, a Stones concert look drab and uninteresting by comparison? Most of us don’t have touch screen information kiosks at the church entrance, nor does our facility layout look like an airport map. Instead, we have ushers (which I like a better anyhow).

Walking around that huge facility, I’m sure I had the same thought as most if not all of my clergy peers: What would it be like to be Bill Hybels, who’s pastor of Willow Creek? What would it be like to be so well-known, respected, published, consulted by cultural movers and shakers? What would it be like to be Rick Warren? You’ve seen him on the cover of Time magazine with the headline “America’s Pastor.” He’s a bestselling author (The Purpose Driven Life) and recently hosted a candidate forum in his church with both McCain and Obama. I mean, what would it be like to discussion with the future President of the United States right in the same spot where you preach every week? Christendom seems to have sprouted quite a number of superstar pastors in recent years and we’re reminded of them every time we slip into a conference bookstore, open a church-related publication or turn on our TV.

I’m not one to run down guys like Hybels and Warren. They’ve done some great work for the Kingdom and have used their influence to reach people for Christ. That’s what we’re all about. Still, it’s human nature to be just a little jealous of their success. We’re culturally conditioned to think that bigger is better and that we’re nobodies if we’re not on Larry King Live.

I think that all of us, no matter what our profession or personality, are affected by the culture of celebrity. We’re confronted with it every single day. Speaking of presidential campaigns, I think its fascinating how a person can go from being the governor of a faraway state one day to being thrust into the national spotlight the next. I mean who here knew the name of the governor of Alaska two months ago? Now she’s everywhere and under intense scrutiny and the subject of parodies on YouTube. Whatever your politics, you have to find that whole process intriguing, if not just a bit disturbing.

Seems like everyone is looking for their fifteen minutes of fame. I was watching a news show the other day where in the back of the studio they have windows open to the street. So the whole news cast there are people out there mugging for the camera trying to get noticed. Deep down, we all want to be recognized.

I got to thinking about all this while wrestling with the text this week from Philippians, where Paul writes about the nature of true fame using Jesus as a prototype. The core of this text is verses 5-11, which many scholars believe was an early Christian hymn, possibly written by Paul himself. But at its core it’s really an ode to the fame of Jesus—but a fame that is radically different than our cultural definition of fame.

Paul was writing in the first century Greco-Roman world, and when people in that world thought of great leaders they would default to two towering figures. One was Alexander the Great who, at age 20, took over his father’s throne in Macedonia, then quickly made himself master over all of Greece, then moved on to conquer most of the known world. By the time he died at age 33, he had been so successful that many people at the time considered him to be a divine figure (of course, it didn’t hurt that he himself had suggested he was a god). Alexander had essentially established Greek culture everywhere, so much so that Greek was still the lingua franca of the Roman empire several hundred years after his death (remember that the New Testament was originally written in Greek).

By the time of Jesus and Paul, however, another figure had emerged that also took on the appearance of divinity and that was Augustus. Known as Octavian before he became emperor, Augustus became famous for putting the long-running Roman civil war to rest by defeating Marc Antony and Cleopatra at Actium in one of the most famous naval battles in history (actually, it wasn’t much of a battle but Augustus sure claimed it was). A grateful Rome allowed Augustus a dictatorial rule, whereupon he eliminated all of his enemies, brought peace to the empire through military power, and had himself declared divine. This is what passed for heroic leadership in the first century. If CNN had been around then, they would have followed every move of these great leaders.

The people of Philippi would have certainly understood the whole idea of celebrity and the accompanying divinity that is often conferred upon it. Philippi had been founded and named by Philip II, father of Alexander the Great. By the time of the Roman empire, Philippi had been established by Augustus and Marc Antony (before they fought each other) as a Roman colony with many of its citizens being veterans of the Roman Army (Roman emperors liked to keep retiring veterans as far away from Rome as possible so as not to foment any ideas of revolution). By the time of Paul’s first visit there, Philippi was a cosmopolitan city with a proud heritage connected to both Alexander and Augustus.

The setting, then, makes Paul’s letter even more compelling and radically counter cultural. In effect, Paul was declaring to the Philippians that there was in reality only one true celebrity, one true King over the world. Alexander and Augustus were mere caricatures by comparison. The contrast between Jesus and the famous rulers of the world could not be more stark, but Paul was proclaiming that Jesus had, indeed, trumped them all—not through power, but through humility.

Look at the text beginning at verse 5—Alexander and Augustus claimed their divinity, but Paul says Jesus was the only one who really had divinity. It was part of his nature as the incarnate God. Yet, unlike the world rulers, Jesus didn’t wield divinity as a weapon or claim it as right. He did not see equality with God as something to be exploited. Instead, Paul says, “he made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.” It was Jesus who washed his disciples’ feet, touched lepers, ate with the dregs of society. No task was too low for him.

Then Paul goes on to say that “he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.” That’s a shocking statement in the first century world. Alexander and Augustus were famous for nailing their enemies to crosses as a sign of their ultimate power over the lives of their subjects. Jesus, however, did not wield power but was fully submissive to a greater power, the power of God, and gave himself over as a victim that was nailed to a cross. There was no more extreme example of powerlessness and humiliation than being nailed to a cross, yet Paul says that was the ultimate sign of his power. Jesus’ fame would not come from being “all that” as the kids says, but by being “none of that”—none of what the world valued then and still values today. He is exalted at the right hand of God and is ruler of the world not because of conquering might but because of humble obedience to the point of death.

Paul says to the Philippians (and to us), “Your attitude should be the same as Christ Jesus.” Your approach to life should follow his example. Rather than seek fame, we should be faithful. Rather than hubris we should seek humility. We must “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than ourselves.” In a world that seeks the spotlight, Paul encourage us to follow Jesus into the shadows.

Now, you may be sitting there this morning thinking, “This doesn’t really apply to me. I don’t want to be famous anyway.” That’s probably true, but fame isn’t always about getting on TV. Sometimes it’s merely about validating ourselves. In fact, I really believe that one of the most epidemic problems in our culture is the fact that we’re so busy trying to validate ourselves through our work, our activity, our desire to prove that we’re worth something. We’re busy because we define ourselves by what we do.

I love how Eugene Peterson puts this in his book The Contemplative Pastor. He is writing to clergy, but I think his diagnosis works for all of us. He writes, “I am busy because I am vain. I want to appear important. Significant. What better way than to be busy? The incredible hours, the crowded schedule, and the heavy demands on my time are proof to myself—and to all who will notice—that I am important. If I go into a doctor’s office and find there’s no one waiting, and I see through a half-open door the doctor reading a book, I wonder if he’s any good. A good doctor will have people lined up waiting to see him; a good doctor will not have time to read a book. Although I grumble about waiting my turn in a busy doctor’s office, I am also impressed with his importance.

“Such experiences affect me. I live in a society in which crowded schedules and harassed conditions are evidence of importance, so I develop a crowded schedule and harassed conditions. When others notice, they acknowledge my significance and my vanity is fed.”

I don’t know about you, but that hit me right where I live. Our pride, our vanity can drive our lives even if we’re not ever going to be on CNN. Like Alexander and Augustus, we want to believe that all of our activity is going to cement us an honored place in the pantheon of humanity. Jesus, by contrast, took a lot of time off for contemplation, spent time being fully present to people in need, spent precious time just hanging out with people. I think that’s because he realized he had a greater vocation—that being the true king meant giving his power away and being fully obedient to a larger purpose. Even death couldn’t cut that purpose short for him. He was not concerned about his reputation—only about the redemption of those around him. He would say of himself, “The Son of Man did not come into the world to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28).

Paul honors Jesus for his humility—a true obedience to God, an openness to God’s purpose. He was more concerned about being famous to God than being famous to the world.

The truth is that since God has wired us all for relationship with each other, we’re all famous (or infamous) to someone else. And, ultimately, all of us are famous to God who knows more details about us than you’ll ever find in People magazine.

I’m not a huge fan of poetry (though I’m growing to appreciate more), but I recalled a poem this week by Naomi Shihab Nye entitle famous that I think describes the kind of fame we should be seeking:

The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds
watching him from the birdhouse.

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom
is famous to your bosom.

The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.

I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.

When it comes down to it, there’s probably nothing better than being famous simply because we “never forgot what [we] could do” as servants of the one true Famous One. That was the attitude of Jesus. It should be ours as well.

Where is God calling you to slow down, to be more obedient, to give up the busyness of worldly fame and validation? Who can you serve this week, being famous to them because you were humble enough to smile back? Because you remembered who it is that you belong to?

Let you attitude be that same as that of Christ Jesus. Amen.

Sources:

Nye, Naomi Shihab. "Famous." http://www.poetryoutloud.org/poems/poem.html?id=177521

Peterson, Eugene. The Contemplative Pastor. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdman's, 1989. p. 18

Wright, Tom. Paul for Everyone: The Prison Letters. London: SPCK, 2002. p. 100-104.

The Scandal of Grace - Matthew 20:1-16

The economy has dominated the news this week with some major banking institutions tanking and the government engineering a bailout that will cost taxpayers “hundreds of billions” of dollars. I don’t know about you, but I’m not looking forward to getting my next IRA statement in the mail to find out how much is long gone.

When things like this happen in the stock market it highlights one of the fundamental problems with human economies. Not being well-versed in markets and money, I can only observe that much of what has driven this huge slide is greed. It seems that corporations and the people who run them are driven by an insatiable need for profit over and above prudence. According to Time magazine, “Fear is so pervasive today because for years the financial markets — and many borrowers — showed no fear at all. Wall Streeters didn't have to worry about regulation, which was in disrepute, and they didn't worry about risk…This lack of fear became a hothouse of greed and ignorance on Wall Street — and on Main Street as well. When greed exceeds fear, trouble follows. Wall Street has always been a greedy place and every decade or so it suffers a blow resulting in a bout of hand-wringing and regret, which always seems to be quickly forgotten.”

 Until it comes back in spades.

 What we’re dealing with here, however, is not so much an economic problem as a problem of fallen humanity. The Bible diagnoses the problem early on, when in Genesis 3 the first humans, Adam and Eve, listened to the snake who told them that they deserved more than God was offering them, so they tossed aside any fear they had of God and reached out in greed for the one thing they weren’t supposed to have (for good reason). The result was a complete breakdown—the emergence of hierarchy between people, the inception of competition which would lead one of their sons to murder the other in a jealous rage. Since the beginning, people have been trying to establish their worth by reaching, grasping, striving after some thing, some wealth, some value that they can use to justify themselves.

 The human assumption, then, is that wealth, be it monetary wealth or the wealth of fame and prestige, is most desirable. Human worth is defined in terms of one’s financial portfolio or their popularity. We assign that worth to people without even questioning it. For example, we've become used to multinational corporations laying off thousands of workers, while handing out million-dollar bonuses and stock options to the CEOs. Interesting figure--the ratio of average CEO pay to average pay of U.S. blue-collar worker: 531:1. Yet it’s the bad decisions of highly paid executives that often run their companies into the ground. We've become used to a young man barely out of high school getting obscene amounts of money because he can toss a round ball through a hoop, while a third-grade elementary teacher is awarded $30,000. We're used to living in a culture where the lowest-paid people on the economic ladder are the ones to whom we entrust the education of our children.

 That is the way of things, we think. And we’re really no different than the people of Jesus’ day. Open your Bibles with me to Matthew 19:16 where you find the story of Jesus’ encounter with a rich young man. Here’s a young man who has it all—he’s wealthy, he’s kept the commandments of God, he’s got everything on the ball. Now, in the first century, most people believed that if a person was wealthy that they must be blessed by God. They have somehow gotten what they deserved. The poor, on the other hand, were largely outcast and forgotten because they didn’t have the same kind of blessed income stream. The disciples, standing around Jesus during this conversation, I think, wanted to be in that young man’s sandals.

 But Jesus radically alters that understanding of economy when he tells the young man, “Well, if you really want to be perfect, have everything, then you need to sell off everything you have and give it to the poor. Then you can really follow me.”

Notice the economy here—you can’t have everything until you have nothing. The young man goes away sad because he’s steeped in the human economy. His worth is tied up in his wealth, in his status. And notice, too, that Jesus doesn’t chase after him trying to explain what he really meant. The disciples are dumbstruck—their whole understanding of economics has been flipped on its ear. “It’s tough for a rich person to enter the Kingdom,” says Jesus,” like a camel going through the eye of a needle.” Jesus then uses this encounter to lay out for them the economics of the Kingdom of God. It’s not about being first, being financially secure, being fiscally blessed, but about being last, being least, being vulnerable. God’s system of valuation is radically different than ours.

 Jesus then goes on to tell this parable to illustrate the point—a parable that leaves most people who read it scratching their heads in disbelief. It begins at chapter 20, verse 1, so let’s walk through it together.

 He begins the story “The Kingdom of Heaven is like…” which is kind of the Jesus equivalent of “once upon a time.” Whenever you read this phrase you know that Jesus wants to take us into an alternative reality called the Kingdom. That’s ultimately what “Kingdom of God” or “Kingdom of Heaven” means—not a faraway heavenly place but a different earthly reality that Jesus was bringing forth through his preaching and activity.

 So continues the story—a landowner went out looking for laborers to work in his vineyard early in the morning. Right off the bat this makes his first century hearers curious. Landowners usually delegate that task to a steward, but this one is very hands-on. And “vineyard” is often an image used to describe Israel throughout the Scriptures. This story is going to have some far-reaching implications.

 So, the landowner negotiates with the first group of men he finds, agreeing to pay them a denarius, about a day’s wages. They make a verbal contract, and off they go to work. But back comes the landowner again a couple of hours later, about 9AM, finds more men, hires them to go work in the vineyard, but this time he says, “I will pay you whatever is right.” They, and we, are thinking that will be a percentage of what the first group will make. That’s only fair, right?

Well, this must be a busy vineyard because out comes the landowner again at noon, and at three looking for more workers, telling them to go to work and they’ll get “whatever is right.”

 Finally, at 5PM the landowner heads down to the same street corner and finds some men still sitting around. No one has yet hired them. “Come and work,” says the landowner and they do even though there’s not much daylight left.

Questions abound because the details are missing: The text says that these guys had been standing around all day. Why didn’t the landowner just hire everyone at once? It’s a head-scratcher and no reason is given, but that’s just the tip of the bizarre nature of this story. Jesus goes on…

 Back in those days, workers received their pay at the end of every day, so as dusk settles all the workers line up for their wages. First in line are the guys who started working at 5PM, maybe putting in an hour of work or so. Their wage, though, is startling. They receive the full denarius, the full days’ wages. So do the 3:00 guys, the noon guys, and the 9AM guys. Well, by this time, word has reached the back of the line and the early risers are torqued. How can these guys get the same wage as us? We’ve been out here all day toiling in the sun and we get the same? We should get more!

 And most of us would side with them. After all, it’s only fair. What kind of business owner is this? This would not be the kind of economics they teach at Harvard Business School. We’re used to some basic math—that time plus effort equals production and production equals pay. Those who do the most should get the most. Everyone should get what they deserve.

 The landowner’s response to their grumbling is telling: “How is this not fair to you? We contracted for a denarius at the beginning of the day and we each met the terms of that contract. As for the rest, I choose to give them the same as I gave you. It’s my money and I can do with it what I like. Or is the real issue for you that I choose to be generous?”

 The last will be first, says Jesus again, and the first will be last.

 I think it’s interesting that Jesus doesn’t explain this parable (in fact, he only ever explained one of them—the parable of the sower). He doesn’t offer an apology or a qualifier, he just leaves it hanging out there to do its own work. What’s it say to you this morning?

 Here’s how it struck me this week as I wrestled with it. I think the reason we struggle with this parable is because we’re so steeped in a human economy that is based on incentives that we have a hard time seeing that God’s Kingdom is about the exact opposite. Instead of incentives, God is offering an invitation. Instead of wealth, God is offering wholeness. Instead of greed, God is offering grace. I’ve been continuing to read Craig Kocher’s view of the lectionary texts in the recent Christian Century and he writes this about the parable:

“The story is about a God who wants everyone inside the vineyard, who will not stop rushing out into the marketplace until all have been rounded up, who will not rest until the outsiders, the forgotten and the lonely have been included alongside the skilled, the timely and the hardworking, even if it costs God everything. In their jealously and rage, those who labored in the vineyard all day long miss the blessing of the vineyard. The forgo an opportunity to make the acquaintance of the landlord and celebrate the harvest of grace.”

 Jesus understood the value of all people regardless of what the culture thought of them. He gave all people value, regardless of their portfolio or resume. The last one in the vineyard is as welcome and valued as the first, and the last one to arrive at the table is given a full-course meal.

 See, to read this story right you have to suspend the worldview of the culture in which we live and instead embrace a Kingdom worldview. That’s really what Jesus has been trying to get his followers to do since the beginning. We’ve got to open up our understanding and even realize that other cultures might read this parable quite differently.

 In his book Santa Biblia: The Bible through Hispanic Eyes ( [Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996] 62-63), Justo Gonzales notes that this parable elicits surprisingly different reactions when read to typical, middle-class audiences in Americacompared to Hispanic audiences.

 Most people are perplexed that someone who had worked for only an hour should be paid the same as someone who has worked for eight hours. It seems patently unfair. Moreover, most people don't understand the fuss. The logic is so clear, typical Americans cannot understand on what grounds one could argue the fairness of Jesus' approach.

 When the story is read or studied by a Hispanic audience, however, the reaction is quite different. These are people, Gonzales says, who identify with the problems of the field workers. They understand the laborer who travels in his pickup truck trying to find work with little success, or, even if he finds work, he is standing around waiting until the job materializes.

 At the end of the parable when the landowner pays the wages, the Hispanic congregation applauds when the laborers who worked for only one hour get paid a full day's pay. They are not confused by this, but understand that the people looking for work and who have been waiting for work need a day's pay to survive. They rejoice, then, at the grace that is not contrary to justice, but that flows with justice. They are paid what they need and deserve rather than the wages they might have been paid had society's concept of justice prevailed.

 God’s justice is not ours. God will do with his grace what God will do and give it to whomever God pleases.

 The bottom line is that none of us is more deserving of God’s grace than another. All of us are bound up in a human economy that runs counter to God’s Kingdom and none of us can claim superiority or seniority over another in God’s ledger. In the kingdom economy, we can be grateful that God chooses to be generous. And no matter how menial or glorious our daily work for God’s Kingdom is, we all get paid the same. In God's eyes, you see, we are all equal. At the end of the day, we are all paid the same, and are paid what is right.

 New Testament professor Darrell Doughty puts it this way: "In the kingdom of God all people are already equal - because all people are loved by God." In the kingdom, every person should receive "what is right" - regardless of the work they do. In the kingdom, all people are equal - rich and poor, wealthy and destitute, righteous and sinners, powerful and powerless - all people are equal because all people are loved by God. And since this is true in the kingdom, it should also be true in the life of the church, whether we are leaders or helpers, teachers or students, administrators or nursery attendants.”

 I wonder what would happen if we applied Kingdom economics to human economics and saw everyone as being of equal value and worth in God’s eyes? What would happen if we stopped comparing ourselves to one another and instead simply embraced the value that each one of us has as children of God? Maybe then we’d turn from being so concerned about profits and instead become prophetic, seeking justice for everyone. Maybe then we’d channel hundreds of millions of dollars from corporations to causes that impact the lives of people.

 Call me weird, but I think these times of economic distress are good for us because they remind us just how vulnerable we really are. When we choose to invest our lives in the worldview of materialism and greed we will eventually find that it can all be taken away. When we invest our lives in God’s Kingdom, though, we truly make an eternal investment—one that creates a bountiful return that changes lives forever. No matter how long or how much we do for the Kingdom, it all counts and God blesses it all.

 Jesus invites us to go to work for him in his vineyard. Will you accept his invitation?

A Model of Repentance

I like football as much as the next guy, but I have become a little jaded about the way things happen in the NFL. It's become such a product that the game itself is often overshadowed. Players are coaches are larger than life and are often not held accountable for their actions, claiming that they were "quoted out of context" when making a verbal gaffe or calling too much attention to themselves on and off the field.

That's why the story of the week is so intriguing. Veteran NFL referee Ed Hochuli absolutely blew a call on Sunday afternoon at the Broncos-Chargers game. Bottom line is that the botched call affected the outcome of the game, costing the Chargers a sure victory and giving Denver a chance to go ahead and win. Normally when a ref blows a call, they simply walk away or they get into an argument with a coach or player.

Not Ed. He realized he and he alone had blown the call, but the rules did not permit him to correct it. Instead of shirking or ignoring the problem, Hochuli first went straight to Norv Turner, the Chargers coach, and admitted that he had blown the call (I'm guessing this happens about as often as Paris Hilton studies biblical Greek). And now, with Charger fans emailing him nasty-grams all week, Hochuli is actually personally responding to their complaints. His reply:

“I’m getting hundreds of emails – hate mail – but I’m responding to it all. People deserve a response.

You can rest assured that nothing anyone can say can make me feel worse than I already feel about my mistake on the fumble play. You have no idea.

Affecting the outcome of a game is a devastating feeling. Officials strive for perfection – I failed miserably. Although it does no good to say it, I am very, very sorry.”

Responsibility. Culpability. Repentance. Wow...that is one stand-up guy. In a world where people are always quick to blame someone else, Hochuli demonstrates moral courage--the kind I'm sure that Jesus himself would applaud. Sure, it's only a football game, but the principle is way more important. Confession, forgiveness, and repentance are all on public display here. I pray that people will learn from Ed's example.

I don't know if it's possible to be a fan of a ref, but Ed made one of me this week.

Blog Posts now in Facebook

For those of you who are jumping into Facebook, I've set up my TypePad blog to display the most recent posts on my Facebook profile. Hope to see you there!

iPod Imagination

So, I finally got an iPod--a pretty nice one that manages a whole bunch of stuff other than music. I've had to go back to an electronic calendar with the long range scheduling that I have to do for my doctoral program and the iPod Touch fits the bill nicely, interfacing seamlessly with my MacBook Pro. As I wrote in an earlier post, I've become a Mac guy. Totally guzzled the Kool Aid.

Anyway, getting an iPod got me all nostalgic as I started sifting through and loading up my CD collection and downloaded some other music. Thumbing through those CDs (too bad you can't do anything with those old cassettes I still have) was a trip down memory lane. Yeah, a huge chunk of my music collection consists of various Rush disks, both studio and live albums. I'm not apologetic about that at all. I like what I like. Still there are some other artists now living in my iPod that are old friends, like:

Steely Dan - Aja: I downloaded this album, which was one of my first album purchases back in the late 70s. I was into jazz as a young drummer and this was the perfect crossover record. Steve Gadd's drumming on the title track still baffles me to this day. "Deacon Blues" is another favorite and I remember playing "Peg" in marching band, specifically on the field at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh, where my drum kit was set up behind second base. It was 1979, the year the Bucs won the series (and, if trends continue, the last time it will ever happen).

The Smiths - "How Soon Is Now" - I worked the night shift at our college radio station on Saturdays from 10PM to 2AM (which tells you a little about my dating life until I met Jennifer) and The Smiths were a staple. This song gets used in commercials now, but every time I hear it I'm transported back to the station and the sound of vinyl crackling on the turntable.

The Police - "Message in a Bottle" and "Synchronicity II" - I'm a big Stewart Copeland fan and love his reggae-tinged work on "Message". Nobody uses the hi-hat better. But "Syncronicity II" is my favorite Police song just because of the lyrics--"packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes..." and the Scottish references.

King's X - Gretchen Goes to Nebraska - I really like this band and also have the "Ear Candy" album loaded up. Three guys from Texas who are way more talented that ZZ Top. If you've never heard them, you're in for a rockin' treat. I love it when bands get free of constantly banging away in 4/4 time. You probably won't dance to it, but I dare you to not start air-guitaring.

Triumph - "Fight the Good Fight" - Another Canadian trio (I sense a trend here). These guys were supposed to be the second coming of Rush but never quite got there (mostly because they weren't as good musically or technically). Still, I love this song--great for when I'm feeling a little embattled. Plus, they're kind of quoting the Apostle Paul, so there's your Christian connection (sort of).

Gaelic Storm - Bring Your Wellies - Pure Celtic fun. My daughter Hannah actually bought this album and we saw them in concert a couple of years ago. I love that kind of folksy music every so often, particularly since I found out that I am, indeed, of Scots-Irish ancestry (I did get some info on my heritage from the adoption agency--more on that in another post).

Patty Smyth (with or without Scandal) - I was totally in love with Patty Smyth in the 80s. She had the chick rocker thing down and was way hotter than Pat Benatar (though I liked her, too). She had that little rasp in her voice and attitude that...well, you get the picture. I downloaded "The Warrior," "Goodbye to You" and "Isn't It Enough" purely for the guilty pleasure. Jennifer just shakes her head. Patty wound up marrying John McEnroe--probably the only woman who could put him in his place!

I'm also loving the podcast thing, listening to sermons from a couple of my favorite preachers, laughing at Garrison Keillor's "News from Lake Wobegone," and a very cool show called "Hardcore History."

What's on your iPod?

Purple State Politics (Romans 14:1-12)

I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re in the midst of an election year and, this time around, one that’s especially charged with ideas. The direction of our country is the central issue and when that’s the case everybody has an opinion.

Now, it’s often been said that you should never talk about politics in church (like sex and money). Well, we talked about sex during the month of July and we’ll be talking a little bit about money as the lectionary moves us through the Fall, so I figured “Why not complete the trifecta?”

But first a caveat—when we hear the word “politics” in our culture and on the news we most often revert to our Red State/Blue State categories (I can never remember which is which).  We hear “politics” and we’re immediately thinking of Washington or what’s happening at the state capital. But I want to go with a broader definition this morning and think of politics in terms of human relationships. Ultimately, any political issue we discuss is an issue about people. So, rather than telling you who to vote for or give you my opinions on the issues I want to talk about how we deal with people in the midst of a political climate (of which the church is certainly a part)—particularly how we deal with those who don’t agree with us.

This was Paul’s big concern in writing to the Roman church. Just like the rest of the culture, then and now, the Christian church was becoming divided into factions. Every year at Annual Conference and, particularly, every four years at General Conference, United Methodists gird their loins for battle over several divisive issues—the big one being homosexuality (and as soon as I said that word, many of you went to your respective camps). Each side on that debate believes it is correct, that it has the wisdom of Scripture on its side, and that the other side just doesn’t get it. We’ve burned a lot of energy on issues rather than on discipleship.

The Roman church was dealing with a similar debate, though one that seems minor to us by comparison. As Christianity grew during the early first century, one of the primary issues concerned how this faith, which grew out of Judaism, would be able to cross the seemingly hard boundaries between pious Jews and new Gentile pagan converts. Things like food laws and worship styles weren’t minor issues as many Jewish Christians believed that the Gentiles should convert to Judaism first before being allowed to be part of the church. If you read through the New Testament, particularly Paul’s letters, you see that circumcision is the presenting issue. I’m trying to imagine selling that particular practice in our own time. You can’t join the church until you’ve had surgery! Perhaps it was not such a minor debate after all.

In Rome, however, the differences became magnified. In 49 AD, the Emperor Claudius had expelled the Jews from Rome because, according to the historian Suetonius, "The Jews were indulging in constant riots at the instigation of Chrestus, [so] he banished them from Rome" (Life of Claudius, 25.4). It is estimated some 20,000 Jews eventually were expelled, among them Aquila and Priscilla, whom we read about in Acts 18 after they had fled to Corinth. There’s some scholarly debate about the nature of the riots—whether “Chrestus” refers to “Christ,” and whether the riots in the Jewish community were over this new teaching about the Messiah. At any rate, Claudius had had enough of it and sent the Jewish community packing. In 54AD, however, the Emperor Nero had allowed them to return.

Jewish Christians returned to find that the churches they had left had taken on a decidedly different character and that things like Jewish food laws and the timing of certain holy days were no longer important to the prevailing church leadership. A pious Jew, for example, would never eat meat that had been sacrificed to an idol (after which it was sold to a local restaurant or in the market for general public consumption), when the Gentile Christians believed that meat was meat and since they didn’t believe in the idols anyway it just didn’t matter that much. Now you had two different factions, each blaming the other and accusing the other of being less than Christian. Each side asserts its “rights,” not caring if it offends the other.

From afar, Paul steps in with his letter, which chastises both sides for completely missing the point. The issue here is not whether or not it’s right to be a pious vegetarian or not—the issue is the people involved—people with whom we are living in community. It’s not wrong for Christians to disagree on an issue where there legitimate arguments on both sides. What is wrong, however, is demonizing the other side and erecting a wall of separation between the polis. Gentiles vs. Jews, liberals vs. conservatives, Christian history is full of periods of time when Christians have “chosen to leave the table of the Lord rather than abide in the brokenness of his body.”

One of the reasons we have so many denominations comes from a divisive approach to faith. Protestants broke with Catholicism, but then broke faith with each other and began to split and subdivide. Every local church has people who leave for a variety of reasons—they get upset over a decision that was made or they decide to go to another church that has a better program for their children or a hotter preacher. Christianity, particularly in this country, has become as much a marketplace as the secular world. Churches compete for market share in membership and the growth in many churches is not the result of new converts but swapping sheep—members migrating from place to place based on their whims or ideas, staying in place only as long as they hear what they want to hear.

That’s not the kind of Christian faith that Paul envisioned. He was not about promoting a marketplace religion, but rather a community of faith where people learn how to live together and work together with and sometimes in spite of their differences. Christians were not to be distinguishing themselves from one another, drawing lines for debate, but rather distinguishing themselves from the wider world. For Paul, it’s not what we eat, or our superiority in a theological debate, or what modes and manners we use to worship, but it is about our oneness in baptism, the fact that we all belong to and serve one Lord. And it is that unity in our baptism in Christ that demands that we hold together even at the points at which we disagree politically, ecclesiastically, and personally.

Now, a word here before we go any further. For Christians there are some things are not really open for debate. A Christian cannot say, for example, that they believe that stealing is OK and simply make that a matter of opinion. When we do something that hurts another person in body or spirit it’s always wrong. What Paul is talking about here are honest disagreements—things that are a little grayer than black and white. Food laws and festivals were not deal breakers for Paul, nor should things like modes of baptism or political affiliation be deal breakers for us.

Paul’s instruction to the Roman church on how to deal with their disagreements really breaks down to a three point plan. In a climate where everybody candidate seems to have a plan and even non-candidates like T. Boone Pickens are touting their particular plans for the country, Paul’s plan provides a framework for Christians as we live and move in a politically charged church and world. He breaks it down like this:

First, Paul reminds the Romans and us that every single Christian is a member of God’s household—a child of God. “For we do not live to ourselves alone and we do not die to ourselves alone” says Paul in verse 7. “If we live, we live to the Lord and if we die, we die to the Lord.” In other words, everyone belongs to God and is valued by God. It is before God that every Christian lives and dies, stands or falls. If God accepts me and values me, God also accepts and values the person with whom I disagree. That puts us on an equal footing with God, so who am I to be condemning someone else who has their own relationship with God? I can debate, I can question, but I cannot condemn. There’s no room for the vitriol and angry rhetoric that characterizes much of Christian conversation today. We must treat each other as valued children of God no matter how much we disagree, and we have to be able to listen to them in their context.

It’s kind of like the man who lay sprawled across three entire seats in the posh theater. When the usher came by and noticed this, he whispered to the man, “Sorry, sir, but you’re only allowed one seat.”

The man groaned but didn’t budge. The usher became impatient. “Sir, if you don’t get up from there I’m going to have to call the general manager,” he said. Again, the man just groaned, which infuriated the usher who turned and marched briskly back up the aisle in search of his manager.

In a few moments, both the usher and the manager returned and stood over the man. Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move him, but with no success. Finally, they summoned the police.

The cop surveyed the situation briefly then asked, “All right, buddy, what’s your name?”

“Sam,” the man moaned.

“Where ya from, Sam?” asked the cop.

With pain in his voice Sam replied, “The balcony.”

You have to know where people are coming from.

That leads to the second point—that Christian practice is always designed at building up the body and serving God. Our debates and disagreements can be constructive. There is such a thing as healthy conflict, where spirited discussion and wrestling can lead to new ideas and solutions that build up the whole Body of Christ. I believe, as Paul did, that God can use healthy conflict to bring us closer together. Not only that, conflict can often give us opportunities to practice other important parts of our faith—confession, forgiveness, servanthood. Humility and openness in debate can lead to new opportunities for God’s Spirit to work within us.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m in the midst of an argument I am most often interested in winning it rather than listening for the Spirit. Maybe it’s just me, but I can get so wrapped up in a debate that when the other person is talking I’m not listening to them, just thinking up what I’m going to say next. That’s the way our political climate seem to be—candidates lobbing sound bites back and forth at each other.

For Christians, however, arguments are not to be about who wins or loses, or who gets to assert their “rights.” Arguments, debates, conflicts are all about finding new solutions to old problems with God’s help. It’s not change itself that we believe in, it’s the power of God’s Spirit to change us. That change only happens, however, when we ourselves are committed to listening to God through daily disciplines of prayer and study of the Scriptures. The more we listen to God, the easier it is to listen to others.

Third, and this is Paul’s ultimate point in this passage, each of us in the end will be judged by God, not by others. We have to remember the ultimate goal that God seeks to achieve through his work in the world—that God is committed to setting his world to rights, renewing creation and redeeming humanity. One day all of us will stand before God, before his throne of grace, and his questions of us will not be about how right we were. As Craig Kocher, assistant dean of the chapel at Duke University, puts it: “On that day his questions will not be: Was your theology perfect? Did you point out the sins of others? Did you get the practices exactly right? Instead, God will ask us: Did you love? Did you forgive? Did you encourage? Did you build up the body? Did you help others become holy? Did you help others serve God? Did you serve the one Lord, through the one baptism, in the one faith?”

What we must remember is that God himself, in the person of Christ, stuck with us even when we rebelled against him. Humans have been in disagreement and conflict with God since it he beginning, but God has never given up on the relationship, even going to the point of death. The cross stands as the ultimate sign of God’s commitment to working through conflict. Jesus forgave those who hated him and nailed him to that cross. If he can do that, then we, too, must look for ways to forgive, embrace, and listen to those who are different from us and may even hate us. Kocher again, “The world will not know us by our perfect harmony; it will know us by our love. By mimicking God’s choosing to be with us in Christ in the way we choose to remain with others in the body, we become church and model the unity of the Gospel.”

Political conflict, church conflict, Red States vs. Blue States, liberal vs. conservative—there’s plenty enough arguing going on these days. As the church it’s time for us to once again advocate and demonstrate a different kind of debate—call it Purple State politics, if you will—an honest exchange of ideas in an attitude of love. We are called to always err on the side of grace, to demonstrate the love of Christ to each other always and everywhere.

That’s something we can all vote for!

Source:

Kocher, Craig, "Known By Our Love, Christian Century, September 9, 2008.

The Consumer Christ

I've been doing some preliminary reading for my dissertation and picked up this book by Tyler Wigg Stevenson that really has my wheels turning. It's all about "Christianity in a Consumerist Age"--interesting stuff.

Stevenson's basic premise is that our identity is driven by what we buy, not by an overarching narrative story that orders our lives and gives them meaning. He compares US consumerism to the first century Roman Empire, drawing some interesting and often frightening parallels. When you read Paul's letter to the Romans in that context you can really get the feeling that he's writing to us, too.

I'm about half way through this book and I plan to finish it over the weekend (I'm jetting back home today after a denominational Board of Pensions meeting in Tucson, AZ). Interesting juxtaposition for me, given that many of us clergy probably won't have any money to consume anything with by the time we reach retirement if things remain as they are. Anyhow, it was interesting to talk about money and investing in a church context. Applying Kingdom principles to saving and investing and retirement is a fascinating theological exercise. Well, at least that's what was keeping me awake during the workshops!

Great read. You may want to pick it up.

The Big Bang: Coming Soon to an Apocalypse Near You

OK, to begin with, I'm no scientist. It wasn't one of my best subjects in high school or college. I distinctly remember a lab test in "Earth Science" where there were 26 black rocks in a box and we were supposed to identify them all. After "anthracite" and "bitumunus" coal, I was pretty much out of luck. I got a History major "C" on that one (which means I was at least creative in my guessing).

Anyway, I was intrigued by today's news that scientists in Europe are trying to replicate the "Big Bang" that may or may not have begun the universe. Apparently, they're all down in a 17 mile-long tunnel complex underneath the border of France and Switzerland cranking up something called "The Large Haldron Collider" that fires atoms from one side to another, hoping that they'll connect and cause some kind of, well, "event." Sounds a bit like something the guys on Mythbusters would try if they had the budget.

This is a big deal in the scientific community, but there are skeptics who think that the whole thing could go wrong and spark a new wave of superhero humans who defy gravity and collide into things really fast...nah, that's just my over-comic-booked imagination (which is probably why I didn't like science--it wasn't anything like the stuff Bruce Banner or Bruce Wayne or any other Bruce was doing in order to have super powers). Seriously, though, skeptics do think that it's possible that messing with these atoms could cause black holes to form that would get stuck in earth's gravity and then get sucked into the center of the earth where they could eat the planet from the inside out. Seriously.

Sounds like a Jerry Bruckheimer movie. Can you see Bruce Willis as a nuclear scientist? But I digress...

From the article in the Salt Lake Tribune this morning, though, comes the absolute best line from scientist Shane Larson, addressing the possible danger: "I'm pretty sure hundreds of us didn't do this wrong. As scientists we're often not good at communicating about things that can cause a lot of fear, but these fears are unfounded."

Translation: We're messing with the fabric of the universe, and we're all pretty smart, so just trust us.

I wonder what God thinks about all this? I mean, wouldn't be the ultimate irony that humanity destroyed the earth trying to replicate something only God could do?

I don't think it'll happen, but it's worth thinking about. And, just in case, anybody got Bruce Willis on speed dial?

Bob's Now in Facebook

OK, so I finally get this whole "social networking" thing and got a Facebook account. It's amazing who you come across and who finds you. I've made "friends" with some folks I went to seminary with, college, former churches, lots cool people from the past and present. Check out Facebook if you haven't already and, if you have, you can be my "friend?"

Isn't that special?

Restaurant Requiem

Today is Jennifer's birthday and our family tradition is to eat out at an establishment of the birthday boy/girl's choice. It's especially nice when it's Jennifer or me who have the birthday because it's the one time we can go to a restaurant that doesn't serve chicken nuggets or strips or pulverized pieces.

Jennifer chose a local pizza and deli establishment that shall remain nameless. We've eaten there before but it's been awhile and memories tend to fade. Then, suddenly, it all comes back to you in a rush when you remember that you said "Never again" the last time you were there. Our experience:

• Temperatures this time of year in the evening in Park City are approaching autumn-like, yet the restaurant had it's retractable glass walls wide open, making it a bit chilly.
• We found a back booth out of the wind, but the table had not been wiped off. We waited ten minutes for someone to come and take our order.
• After sitting down, a live "folk singer" began whining her way through a set of folk and rock classics. I used to like Neil Young and Sheryl Crow, but not tossed in a yodel-y blender. She was earnest and probably a pretty good singer at some level, but all the songs sounded the same and were so loud we couldn't hear each other at the table.
• We ordered food, which came in shifts (kids, then, 10 minutes later, us). We didn't get the appetizer we ordered. Jennifer's calzone had unbaked dough all through it and was mostly inedible, but since it took so long to get the first time we bagged it.
• Our ears bleeding from the loud, overly indulged music we split as soon as we could. I had to go find the waiter to get the check.

We then went to an ice cream establishment and got some treats, but the staff is apparently instructed to sing at the top of their lungs every time they get a tip or someone has a birthday. We didn't mention the birthday. The extra money we spent was worth not hearing some disinterested teen workers quickly and dispassionately run their way through a canned song about getting a dollar tip.

Sometimes I wonder whether many restaurant folks really pay attention to what's happening in their place of business, much like people wonder about the same sorts of things when they come to our churches. Are people feeling welcome? Is everything clean and inviting? Are the staff paying attention? Is the music of the best quality and not too obnoxious? It's always good to go through an experience like tonight because it gets you thinking about how you conduct your own business.

I'll never be a restauranteur, but if I were here are some absolutes I'd establish for my business:

• If the music volume requires me to lean over the table to be heard by my dinner companions, it's too loud.
• If the singer doesn't use consonants and plays every song the same, get another one. Better yet, skip the live music altogether at dinner time and play music in the background. Live stuff is better later in evening.
• Management should be walking around and observing, paying attention to detail all the time.
• Under no circumstances will the staff be required to sing any kind of birthday song complete with clapping to any customer. If it's their birthday, just give them a free appetizer or dessert or something and be done with it. The staff doesn't want to sing it, and the rest of us don't want to hear it.
• Cook the food. Seems elementary, but there it is...
• Skip the cute names on the menu. Just tell us what it is.

Perhaps this is why I'm such a big fan of restaurants like Chipotle. They have a very focused menu, the food is fresh and hot, the staff efficient and quick, the decor spartan yet inviting, and the whole experience leaves you feeling full and satisfied.

It kind of goes back to what Jim Collins says in Good to Great--great companies focus on the one thing they do best. That's good advice for restaurants and churches.

Anyway, it was a good reminder. And tell Jennifer "Happy Birthday" when you see her!