Reading Through Mark: What are Rules for, Really? (Mark 3:1-19)

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(During Lent 2024, I'm encouraging my congregation to join in reading through the Gospel of Mark. I'm posting occasional reflections and insights to guide reading.)

In Chapter 2 of Mark, Jesus begins a series of debates with religious leaders because he doesn't follow their rules for being holy. He says a man's sins are forgiven (2:5), eats with social rejects (2:16), and plucks grain for a snack on the Sabbath holy day (2:23-24). 

(The Sabbath day [or Shabbat, or Saturday] is the primary holy day for Jewish believers because it is the day God finished creating and rested. In the 10 Commandments, God orders faithful people to "do no work" on the Sabbath. Leaders like the Pharisees labeled a lot of things as "work" to prevent anyone accidentally offending God.)

Chapter 3 begins with another debate about following the commandments and Jesus asks a question that drives to the heart of their differences: “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” (3:4). The answer should be simple, right? The sabbath is meant to honor God, and what better way is there to honor God than showing care and compassion to someone in need? 

But the Pharisees balk at the question. God clearly says, "Don't work on the Sabbath" and doesn't say "unless someone is injured." Therefore, healing on the Sabbath breaks the commandment. 

Jesus' question and actions, though, show the problem with the thinking. God's commands are meant "to do good" and "to save life." That's the whole reason God gave them. So if your following a command actually does harm or kills, that isn't what God wants from you. 

In churches, we often get caught up on rules about what is appropriate -- what we should wear, how loud or quiet we should be, what kind of music we can sing, etc. -- and enforcing those rules can sometimes cause pain and shame for many people. We then excuse the hurt we cause because we believe we're doing what God wants from us. But as we will see throughout the Gospel, Jesus isn't as interested in us obeying the details of the rules as much as he cares about us knowing the purpose for them: 

• God is love. 
• God loves us to create new life. 
• God wants us to love as we've been loved to create new life in others. 

Commands and rules are good for providing order and clarifying expectations, but if following those rules does not reinforce the reason they exist -- God's love -- then they aren't serving their purpose. For if "holiness" is being more like God, and God is love, then love and compassion is the holiest thing we can do. 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“There is no doubt about it: it was the myth of fingerprints. That’s what that old army base was for.” -Paul Simon, “The Myth of Fingerprints”

You're Not Great (Probably), And That's Okay

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I remember growing up believing I could (and would) change the world. As an X-ennial (borderline Gen X and Millennial), I was awash in all the positive, you-can-do-anything-you-put-your-mind-to youth education of the 90s. And like most generations, my friends and I believed we would have the world fixed by the time we became adults. 

I also remember having my mid-life crisis at thirty years old when I realized I hadn't changed the world or accomplished "all the things" I thought I would. Instead, I had a very "normal" life. It wasn't a bad life, and was actually pretty close to what I wanted when I was younger (the career I wanted, a loving spouse and family, and a mortgage on a modest home). 

But I wasn't "great." I hadn't transformed the world, or published a book, or started a mega-church, or won a Nobel prize. (Okay, that last one was probably never a realistic goal.) And not being great made me feel like a failure, like I'd squandered my potential and was a disappointment to myself and my family -- and even God. 

(Side note: Therapy has helped me recognize there's a ton of space between "great" and "failure," and I'm more content trying to live there.)

I was reminded of my struggle to be great recently as I've been reading through Paul's letters for my devotions. Someone recommended that I read them not as theology textbooks, but as what they actually are: letters from a pastor to his church about everyday issues. 

It's amazing what a difference it has made. Instead of a treatise on the end times, 1 Thessalonians says, "I know you feel discouraged, but keep loving each other as you have and it will be fine." 1 Corinthians is less the final word on how to run a church and more: "Stop bickering and pointing fingers like 5 year olds! You know better than that!" 

I'd always kind of thought of Paul's letters as a roadmap to conquering the world, but while the scope of God's story is universal, Paul's concerns are far more personal. When you realize most of the churches he was writing to were probably fewer than fifty people, they feel even more restrained, maybe even mundane. 

Even Jesus rarely acts on a huge scale. The Feeding of the 5,000 happens when he's trying to get AWAY from the crowds (Matthew 14:13). Instead of "Go plant a mission start in the Sinai," he tells many of the people he encounters in the Gospels to go home and live their lives according to the love they've learned.

What I've come to recognize is that much of what Jesus teaches and Paul writes aren't commands to be successful or great or even effective. They are calls to be faithful and follow. 

Martin Luther was passionate about the Priesthood of All Believers, the idea that every Christian is a "priest," called by God to do holy things, but that those "holy things" are generally in our normal lives: being a parent or friend, being kind and honest in our work, etc. 

In other words, God doesn't expect everyone to change the world or be wildly successful in their job. Most of us won't do "great things, only small things with great love," as Mother Teresa once said. And that isn't failure or second class faith; it's how God operates. 

I continue to learn that I don't need to be "great" (whatever that means). My normal life can dwell in a great love from a great God, and that's better anyway.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“When you find there’s nothing special, yeah, about that big hole in your heart, ‘cause everybody’s got one, with precious little time to talk about it.” -Vigilantes of Love, “Nothing Like A Train”

The God I Don't Believe In

Photo by Ari Mattson

If your faith is more interested in drawing lines and building walls between people than building bridges and seeking connection, I don't believe in that god. 

If your faith agrees completely with the platform of any political party, I don't believe in that god. 

If your faith believes that your nation is specially blessed by God to save the world, but it isn't named in the Bible, I don't believe in that god.

If your faith never challenges you to change, but makes you hyper aware of other peoples' flaws, I don't believe in that god. 

If your faith never challenges you to change and agrees with everything you already believe, I don't believe in that god.

If your faith practices fear and compulsion to create "converts" instead of attracting people by its beauty, I don't believe in that god. 

If your faith believes it needs power to force people to fall in line, I don't believe in that God. 

If your faith condones violence as anything but a last resort and only to protect others, I don't believe in that god.

If your faith requires hierarchies based on gender, age, ethnicity, sexuality, or political persuasion, I don't believe in that god. 

If your faith wants to avoid the pain and confusion of the cross and only talk about Easter, I don't believe in that god.

If your faith only cares about your soul going to heaven and not the physical plight of others, I don't believe in that god.

If your faith only cares about physical needs and not spiritual transformation, I don't believe in that god. 

If your faith believes faith is a place you need to arrive and stay, instead of a journey of discovery "to grasp how long and high and wide and deep is the love of Christ" (Ephesians 3:18), I don't believe in that god. 

If your faith is only about what you believe in your head, or what you do with your hands, or what you feel in your heart and not all three, I don't believe in that god.

If your faith offers simple answers to every problem and demands you don't ask questions, I don't believe in that god.

Why No One Should "Go to Church"

Is it church if no one's there?
(Photo by JOHN TOWNER on Unsplash)

Years ago I cut out a magazine article and posted it on my office door. It was written by Dan Kimball, an Emergent church pastor from California. As he starts out, he shares a story of telling a group at his church that “According to the Bible...it is actually impossible to ‘go to church.’” After letting confusion wash over their faces, he explains that in the New Testament, the word “church” never applies to a building, but always to the people who follow Jesus. “We can’t go to church,” he concludes, “because we are the church.” (Unfortunately, other than these quotes, I can't find any trace of the original article. 😞)

This is a principle that we’ve all learned (I remember singing in Sunday school, “I am the Church, you are the Church...”), but we don’t act like we have. The way we typically talk about church actually suggests that we think of “church” as the building, or, at least, as only what we do in that building. 

Instead, we need to distinguish between the church that is a static building and the church that is a people or a movement. Being an English major and a writer, I like to think of them as the "little c church" (building) and "big C Church" (the people).

The word the early Church used to describe itself in Greek is “ecclesia,” which literally means “those called out.” The Church, then, is the people who are called by God. We are called out of things and ways of living that rob us of life and joy and God’s presence, called to gather to hear the Good News of life through Christ. And we are also the people called out of our places of worship (out of our comfort zones?) to be the Church in the world and for the world.

This is why Paul says Christians are the "Body of Christ," a living, moving extension of God, instead of an unmoving building. (Or maybe an unmoving audience?) If we think church is just the building, we can think our faith and lives are as static and passive as the building. It becomes the country club (or bomb shelter) that we retreat to when we need to rest. 

One of my favorite images for the church I heard years ago at a youth gathering (I apologize that I can't credit the source), where someone said, "We too often think of church as a buffet, where we come to gorge on God and then hope we won't starve before we return; instead, we need to think of church as the grocery store where we gather the ingredients we need to make meals throughout the week."

Just as the goal of going to the grocery store is to have a dinner party, the goal of going to church (the building) is to live as Church (the people). We are "called out" as the Church not to escape from the world or hide from it, but to learn to live in it with identities, patterns, and habits that are healthy and cooked from good ingredients. 

The God of Life has called us out, called us out of death and into life, called us out of the noise and chaos the world around us to rest in (and then share) a message of hope. God calls for us to grow in that life and God calls us to share that life with others. God doesn't want us to go to church; we are called to be the Church.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

"May this place of rest in the fold of your journey bind you to hope. You will never walk alone." -Jars of Clay, "The Shelter"

Faith in Media: When the Pop Star Interviewed the Late Show Host

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When I first heard about this interview clip between Stephen Colbert and Dua Lipa, I was confused. I was told that Dua Lipa, the pop star, was interviewing Stephen Colbert of The Late Show on his show? And Lipa, known for sexy dancehall hits, was asking him sincere questions about his faith as a Christian? And Colbert had a profound and personal answer? 

That combination of factors didn't really compute in my brain, and so I forgot about it at the time. Then about five months later, someone told me, "No seriously, you need to watch it."

I've now watched it multiple times because I think it really is that good. And the novelty isn't even the best part. (The first few minutes sets up the conversation, but the relevant Q&A begins at 2:43 in the clip.) There are at least three things that I find particularly worthy of reflection. 

First is simply the authentic humanity of the conversation. While they are joking around, Lipa's question is honest (she is really curious to learn what he has to say) and dignifying (she recognizes something that is important to Colbert that she may not share or understand) and Colbert's response is respectful (he answers honestly without scoffing at the question or trying to convince her of anything). In an age where we so often see differences of opinion as a threat or lack the curiosity to want to understand another point of view, it's refreshing to see a conversation that isn't a debate. I wish more conversations around the dinner table or water cooler went like this.

Second, I think it's amazing how well Colbert is able to use his faith to interpret a movie and a quote with theological lenses. And he doesn't use clichés to do it. I know I struggle to do that at times with a master's degree in religion, but he is at ease with the ideas and language of his faith. It's clear that he has thought about how his faith, his comedy, and current events intersect in strong ways. If I could teach that skill effectively, I would probably put myself out of a job. 

Finally, I love how Colbert identifies fear as the opposite of faith. Fear leads us to excuse evil, he says, and the solution isn't to ignore death or evil, but to disarm them with laughter. I think we're often more likely to ignore uncomfortable feelings like sadness or pain, but Colbert suggests we need to confront them or else they become too powerful. Finding ways to laugh about death to care for one another has echoes of "take up your cross and follow me." If you want to find God, don't run from hurt, but tend to it until something new grows out of it. (Luther called this his "Theology of the Cross.")

I hope you can find something as useful in this interview. If you have your own perspectives and know how to reach me, please engage with me by email or on Facebook. I'm happy to continue the conversation started by a pop star and a late night host. 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“I’m a walking, talking question mark, but what is the question again?” -Jamie Lidell, “What’s the Use”

Is Faith a Destination or a Process?

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I remember bumper stickers when I was a kid that read, "There is no way to peace. Peace is the way." The idea behind the stickers was that we can't bomb and kill our way to peace. Though nations often rely on military means to achieve "peace," it's unwise to think one can use death and destruction to subdue an enemy and then have everyone be friends the next day. If true peace needs trust and cooperation between opponents, violence always creates the opposite.

I've been thinking about that phrase a lot recently in my Bible studies and devotional time because it seems to me we are often taught to think in terms of results: How to get the promotion... How to guarantee your kid goes to the Ivy League... How to win...

The same often applies to churches. How to increase attendance... How to guarantee deeper faith...

On one hand, there's nothing wrong with having goals. If we don't know where we're going, we likely won't go anywhere. But I wonder if we too often make the result the only thing that matters. 

If the end result is all that matters, how we get there isn't as important. Did I make someone else look bad so I would be preferred? Did I take advantage of unfair of a privilege someone else lacked to get ahead? Did I twist the truth to get someone on my side? As long as I achieve my goal, I can justify what I did to get there. 

But there are consequences to a "whatever it takes" mentality. I see many politicians openly lying or practicing character assassination to make sure their party gains or keeps power while implying, "We'll be virtuous once we get past the election." But why would should someone be trusted once they have power if they were untrustworthy getting it?

In another example, a bombshell report on the Southern Baptist Convention came out recently that laid out how victims of sexual abuse by pastoral staff were ignored and silenced for years in the name of protecting the institution and concerns about bad press damaging their evangelism. Or if anyone listened to "The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill" podcast, you'll remember the infamous comment by a pastor bragging about "bodies under the bus" of his success. 

When the end goal or success itself is the only thing that matters, how you get there doesn't, but like the way to peace, it's unreasonable to bomb your way to victory and then believe everything will be magically perfect afterwards. 

And it seems that Jesus rarely takes such an approach. Though he talks about building the Kingdom of God and aims to "save the world" (not a small goal!), he spends a lot more time teaching about the process of faith than the destination. He tells people simply, "Follow me" (e.g. Luke 5:27) without telling them where they are going. When James and John ask to sit at his right hand, he warns them against seeking power and tells them to serve one another (Mark 10:35-45). And when he teaches to "love your enemies" and "turn the other cheek," he doesn't say, "Then you'll achieve what you are hoping for." It isn't a "how to" manual with a goal in mind, but more "be like this and let me worry about the conclusion."

In fact, when he tells the disciples he is going to be arrested and die and says, 

"You know the way to where I am going," Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the way and the truth and the life" (John 14:4-6a, emphasis mine)

 In other words, you don't need to know the destination, Thomas; you know me. Follow me and you will get there. He goes on in the following chapters to assure them to stick to what he's taught them. It's like, 

• Step 1: Be loving, generous, forgiving, kind, patient, hopeful, at peace, and welcoming.
• Step 2: If you are (insert any emotion or situation here), see Step 1.

One might say, "There is no way to Jesus. Jesus is the way."

I have found this idea that "Jesus is the way" helpful as there are many things going on in the world around me and in my personal and professional life that are uncertain or out of my control. Over the past two years, almost everything has felt unsettled or temporary. Even when I know where I'm going, it can change or there are detours constantly. But I can tell myself, wherever you are, be loving; whatever happens, be kind; in good or bad, be caring. It gives me a focus and sense of grounding. 

I may not know the final goal, but I know the way. And that's more important.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“I thought that everything would turn out right, now look what I’ve become: a man I wouldn’t have respect for if I met me when I was young.” -Jars of Clay, “Left Undone”

What About the Other Common Factor in Shootings: Men?

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I've been in shock and anger this week following the news of yet another school shooting, this time in Uvalde, Texas. The second deadliest school shooting in our history (something is wrong when we have enough school shootings to rank them) is sadly just one of several mass shootings in recent weeks, including a grocery store in Buffalo, New York, and a church in Laguna Woods, California. And those are just a few examples in a year where we are averaging more than one mass shooting per day in America. (Lord, have mercy.)

Well-worn paths of arguments about gun rights and restrictions are in the news again. Though I have my thoughts on guns, I find myself thinking more about a different question this week: What's wrong with men in our country?

It's an obvious detail that rarely gets discussed following a mass shooting, but the perpetrator is almost always a man. (Various sources I found put the figure at 94-98% of mass shooters.) And the shooter is  frequently a younger man. (The Buffalo and Uvalde killers were both 18.) 

Why? What are we doing that makes so many men think they should get a gun and start shooting at people when they are upset? As a man and a church leader, this question haunts me because I feel a responsibility to correct whatever is causing the problem.

This is a question that needs in depth research for a real answer, but let me offer a suggestion: the way masculinity is portrayed and taught in our culture is horrible. And it is literally killing us. 

We are all aware of the traditional tropes of masculinity. Real men are like John Wayne or Don Draper. They are strong and can fight when necessary. They are always in control of themselves and their surroundings. They rarely show any emotion except for (righteous) anger. They never ask for directions (or help), won't admit when they are wrong, and never back down from a perceived threat. 

If that's the normal or ideal image of a man, I can speak from experience that it creates problems very quickly in the real world. Here are just a few:

• If I don't know an answer or am wrong about something, I'm not a real man. 
• If I struggle in a job, I'm not just failing in a job, I'm failing as a man because I'm not in control. 
• If I try to seek help with the problem, I'm even less of a man, so I never risk the honesty that is needed for deep, loving relationships that can help me feel secure. 
• If I feel shame or sadness about my struggles, I'm not a real man. I can't explore or address my emotions because I'm not supposed to have them in the first place. 
• So hurt often turns to anger at the person or situation that is causing my hurt because they are making me feel less manly. 
• And then if they are a threat, I have to fight them with all I can, which often creates new problems that I'm failing at and the cycle continues. 

This isn't just unhealthy masculinity, it's an unhealthy humanity. Without a way to break this cycle, the likelihood of violence and anger only increases because they are the only acceptable ways to be "manly" with big emotions.

As a pastor, what I find even more troubling is the way this model is frequently layered into Christian teaching as not just normal, but godly. Sometimes it's even called "Biblical manhood." So if I'm not being a "real man," I'm not just betraying myself, I'm betraying God. 

But that's not what I see in scripture. 

• When Moses acts with anger and strikes a rock instead of speaking to it, God rebukes him. (Numbers 20:2-13)
• David is remembered favorably for admitting his fault and humbling himself before God when he has committed adultery and murder (2 Samuel 12). God calls him a "man after my own heart" (1 Sam. 13:14). 
• The early apostles in Acts never fight back when opposed, even when they are violently attacked (e.g. Acts 16:19-34). 

And more importantly, it's not the way Jesus lives as a man: 

• When Peter draws a sword to defend Jesus at his arrest, Jesus rebukes him, heals the man injured, and says, "all who take the sword will perish by the sword" (Matthew 26:51-54).
• Jesus allows himself to be humiliated by spending time with prostitutes, tax collectors, sinners, and other social outcasts. 
• Jesus says, "Blessed are the meek..., the merciful..., the peacemakers" (Matthew 5:1-11)
• He commands people to "turn the other cheek," "love your enemies," and teaches passive resistance (Matthew 5:38-47).
• Jesus wept (John 11:35) and confessed his fear (Matthew 26:38-39). 

Philippians specifically notes that Jesus did not exploit his power, "but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave ...[and] humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death -- even death on a cross" (2:7-8). In other words, Jesus wasn't a muscular warrior man, but was human in a way that both demonstrated the love and justice of God and was vulnerable and humble in order to elevate others. If Jesus was fully God and fully human, then his example is what all men (and women) should be emulating. Jesus is what Biblical humanness looks like. 

Throughout history, the message and example of Jesus has challenged cultural assumptions about what it means to be men, women, leaders, citizens, patriots, and just humans. The way we've idealized a certain type of masculinity needs to be challenged and changed because it is costing lives. As we look for solutions to gun safety and mental health, I will also be looking solutions that create a healthier, more Jesus-like idea of masculinity. 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“Like men need long life to know that they ain’t right.” -NEEDTOBREATHE, “Survival”

Facebook, Tongues, and the Root of Evil

Facebook has been in the news a lot recently for all the wrong reasons. Even before a whistleblower shared documents with the public that Facebook knew that its apps (including Instagram and WhatsApp?) were causing eating disorders and mental illness, it was general knowledge that Facebook has become a place for practicing conspiracy theories, anger, and name-calling. At its worst, social media can function like a self-feeding outrage machine that leads to arguments between loved ones and "unfriending" family members. 

The nastiness has led many people to quit Facebook (or Twitter, etc.), while lawmakers and other leaders debate creating laws to manage algorithms, control online speech, or otherwise "fix" social media so they "do no evil" (as Google's slogan once said). If these apps are evil, people are asking, how do we get rid of them or control them better?

At the same time, Facebook has been an amazing gift for my church. When Covid hit, I jumped on our church's Facebook group and started asking a question of the day on weekdays. I thought it would give us something to reflect on for the 2-3 weeks (insert laugh track here) that we were isolating from each other. After a few weeks, we started posting a weekly "Mental Health Check" image we borrowed from another church that encouraged people to share a colored heart or emoticon to express how they are doing. These prompts started long conversation threads, personal sharing, a lot of "I never knew that about you," and digital prayers and signs of support. I have heard from multiple people that they have learned more about other church members in a few months on Facebook than they did in a decade of talking in person at church. 

Twenty months later, we are still doing daily questions and weekly check-ins, not just because Covid continues to impact our lives, but because they have become a vital part of our community building and loving one another. If Facebook is evil, how can it do such good? I'm disgusted by the news of how social media companies have manipulated their systems to generate clicks and eyeballs while knowing it was actually hurting people, but simply deleting it would also remove me from my church's online group that has been a real source of hope and healing for me. How do we make sense of this?

In the book of James in the Bible, the author takes a large section of the letter to address a related issue -- the tongue -- and their reflection is helpful for us, I think. By "tongue," they are referring to speech and warn that our words can do great good or great harm. They write: "With it [the tongue] we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so" (James 3:9-10). 

Though the author specifically calls the tongue "a restless evil"immediately before this, I think these two verses instead argue that it is a neutral object or a tool and how it is used can be evil or good. God's intent, the author is saying, is for our words to proclaim truth and praise and help for other people. When we use them to tear people down or hurt them, that is an abuse of the tool God has given us. The evil doesn't come from the tongue or words, but in how we use them. In other words, evil comes from within us, not the tongue. 

Sound like anything else in the news? Facebook, Twitter, and "the socials" are not evil or good in and of themselves. The evil or good comes in how we use them (and how their programmers craft them to trigger us). Like many things, they can bring out the best or worst in us, but we have to be aware of what we are doing with them. Do my comments and posts "bless the Lord and Father" or do they "curse those who are made in the likeness of God"? 

We can get too caught up in wondering whether an app -- or book, or show, or whatever -- is good or evil. Instead, James invites us to ask, "How can I use this to praise God and serve others instead of cursing and hurting?" Perhaps we can't use something for good, and then we should get rid of it. 

Until I can't use it for good, I'll be posting grace, hope, and love on Facebook.com/pastor.ari. Hope to see you there. 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“So casually cruel in the name of being honest.” -Taylor Swift, “All Too Well”

Cutting Through the Media Noise to Listen for God

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on Unsplash

The world is very loud and angry today. We are bombarded with news about diseases, natural disasters, political arguments, economic roller coasters, and more. It often feels like it's not shared so much as shouted at us by people who can't tell the difference between opinions and facts. And that doesn't get into the messages from advertising, movies, and television programs. 

It's no wonder that I hear from many who just want to tune out or ignore the news or say they don't know what to believe or trust anymore. I feel the same way at times. 

In an interview last year, I heard a recommendation from Kaitlyn Schiess that I have found helpful ever since. She was speaking about her book, "The Liturgy of Politics: Spiritual Formation for the Sake of Our Neighbor," on the Holy Post Podcast and suggested using two simple questions to cut through the noise of news (especially political).

-What is this telling me to value? -What is it telling me to fear? 

I'd suggest the obvious third question is: How do those answers line up with my values? Better yet, How do they line up with Biblical values?

I know we could start a long debate about what "Biblical values" means, but I think we can rely on the plain words of a few classic verses as common ground:

• Paul lists some core values in Galatians that he calls "the fruits of the Spirit": love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. 
• Do the shows you watch celebrate and encourage these values?
• Jesus names a list of people who are "blessed" at the start of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:1-12): those who are meek... merciful... pure in heart... peacemakers... those who hunger and thirst for righteousness... 
• Is this the type of person you are inspired to be by the media you consume?
• In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul names love as "the greatest" practice of Christians and shares what love does NOT look like: "love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth." 
• Do the voices you listen to promote love or the opposites that Paul names?

These questions aren't meant to shame you for the media you consume. And they are not to say that any news or program that doesn't fit this model is "evil." These are questions to help us critique what we are hearing and hear it through a Christian lens. 

I'm not expecting any of us to be taught Godly values by watching the news. That's not their job! Their job is to share information and get viewers to watch. The answer is not to never consume news or media, but to consume it wisely. 

As Christians, we are called to reflect the goodness and wisdom of God to the world around us, to be part of the renewal of creation started in Jesus' death and resurrection. We should shape the world more than we're shaped by it. 

What are you learning to value? What are you learning to fear? How close is that to what God values in the world? Hopefully the right questions can lead us towards the answers we need.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“Let me learn from where I have been; keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn.” -Mumford and Sons, “Below My Feet”

Faith in Media: "Ted Lasso" and Confession

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When I was on vacation this summer, my best friend insisted that we watch "Ted Lasso," the Apple TV comedy that had just been nominated for a boatload of Emmys. I had heard it was good, but hadn't watched it because my family didn't subscribe to Apple TV+. The headlines and word of mouth I'd seen on the show was that it was heartwarming, hilarious, and the perfect escape from pandemic-bad-news overload, but... 

Wow... It was so much more. 

I wasn't expecting it to also be about Christian ideals like community building, confession, and reconciliation.

If you're not familiar with "Ted Lasso," it's a comedy starring Jason Sudeikis as an American football coach who is hired to coach a Premier-level soccer club in England. He is over-the-top positive and spouts more funny metaphors than a caffeinated Southern preacher. (See what I did there?) Meanwhile, everyone around him is unhappy, unfriendly, or hoping for his failure. At it's core, "Ted Lasso" asks, "How do we overcome differences and pain in order to be decent and kind to people?"

(I should note it is rated TV-MA because there is a LOT of swearing and frank conversations about sex. If that's not okay for you, don't watch it.) 

As all the characters travel the path to being better human beings (including Ted), there are misty-eyed moments of joy and head-smacking mistakes. It was the way mistakes are addressed that really blew me away because they are a fantastic model for confession and forgiveness. And not the confession and forgiveness with God that Lutherans do at the beginning of worship, but the kind all Christians are called to practice with each other. Or, if you aren't religious, the kind of reconciliation your therapist would model with you. 

For example (paraphrased as best I remember it):

Roy: "Oi! Don't use me as a pawn in your f------ lover's quarrel!"

Keely: "You're right. That was wrong and I'm sorry."

Roy: "Thank you."

Or (without spoiler details):

A: "I lied to you."

B (sighs): "Well, I forgive you."

A: "What? Why would you do that?"

B: "Someone hurt you, and that makes you do crazy things. I've been there. And me holding it over you won't make anything better."

The show is full of moments like these. Of course, similar moments in real life might not be so quick, but the basics are still pure gold. People are honest about being hurt or doing bad, they own the guilt when they were wrong, they listen to each other, and sometimes they need to revisit the problem later or do something to make it up to someone. (And it never feels forced or sappy like an old sitcom.) 

Now, not everyone becomes best friends and there are characters at the end of the season who are still very flawed, but time and again, the show celebrates healing relationships, caring for the team, and efforts to be better people. When there is so much polarization and division in our country right now, it was refreshing to watch examples of how to fix problems and heal relationships instead of holding grudges and seeking vengeance. 

Some people would probably call it unrealistic for people to act like this regularly, but to me it sounds a lot like: "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." It also sounds a lot better than the alternative we live in now.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“Somehow our hearts are still in it, but all our innocence has left.” -NEEDTOBREATHE, “Seasons”

How to Change the World? I Don't Know, but I Can Do This...

 

Photo by Karla Hernandez on Unsplash

I don't know about you, but I often get overwhelmed thinking about how to make a difference in the world. The problems all feel so big. 

Hunger. Clean water for the developing world. Malaria, AIDS, and COVID. Natural disasters. Affordable housing. Systemic racism. Gun violence. Environmentalism and climate change.

And that's just a few. How can I volunteer, donate, and raise awareness for all the good causes in the world? Or how do I decide which is the most important?

Like I said, it gets overwhelming. But lately, I've been wondering if I'm asking the wrong questions. Instead of asking how to do everything, or who is most deserving of my care, or whether my small contribution will really make a difference, what if I asked a simpler question: 

Who can I show love to right now?

When I ask this question, it changes my perspective. I'm not as overwhelmed with huge complicated problems I can't fix alone because I'm looking at my immediate surroundings and thinking about what I do have available. It also makes the solutions more concrete and real.

Who can I show love to right now?

I can call or text my friend who's lonely. I can introduce myself to my new neighbor. I can give random compliments. Or maybe I can donate $5 to whatever cause I'm thinking about most. 

I can't do everything or make a huge dent in the world's problems, but I can do something, something that makes a difference, even if it's small. 

Who can you show love to right now?

From the Gray, 

Pastor Ari

“I gotta learn to love right where I’m at.” -NEEDTOBREATHE, “Bottom of a Heartbreak”

Faith Like Jazz

I love jazz music. One of my favorite albums (of any kind of music) is Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue."

I will also be quick to say that I don't totally get jazz. I know there are a lot of interesting things going on in jazz that trained musicians can pick up on and dissect. Some jazz gets really experimental and ... unique. That's not the jazz I love.

Instead, I love the Miles David/John Coltrane style of jazz. The kind of jazz you imagine in a smoky bar with a three- or four-piece group providing the background to conversations between people in fedoras and boas. (Which is where I've heard some of the best jazz in my life.)

What I love about jazz is the improvisation. I love listening to the way the band will take a riff and play around with it for several measures, trying different things each time. Or the way one of the instruments will go on a solo, pouring out sounds that are more like emotions than notes while the others maintain a regular rhythm to hold her/him on a path. In jazz there is both creativity and freedom, and there is a kind of restraint because all the parts are working together toward a common goal.

I love jazz.

I also love Jesus. And I think following Jesus should be a lot like jazz.

When I was growing up, a lot of Christian teaching made me think there was a specific way to follow Jesus. There was a set of rules to follow and a certain way to act and dress and if you followed all of them, you were Christian. If you didn't, well, thanks for playing.

In my music analogy, it would be like saying, "To follow Jesus, you need to play the piano and play 'Moonlight Sonata' perfectly."

But I think that's too narrow a view. Especially today. Life rarely follows a neat, clear path where every action has a predictable reaction. And every person in the church doesn't have the same gifts or passions or reasons for being in church. Instead, I think living a life of faith is like playing jazz music.

You have a group (church or fellow Christians) who have different instruments (talents) and you're all working together to make a beautiful piece of music (bring God's life to earth). But you're also improvising, repeating common themes (love, forgiveness, mercy) in different ways to create new sounds and ideas. The members are doing their own thing, but working together, being creative and free, but following certain patterns that are familiar to all participants.

This is much more like faith as I've experienced it than "Here's a piece of music. Memorize it." It's also what the church needs to be today.

We are in a time when technology and globalism are changing things constantly. We are in a time where we live with many differences in generations, ethnicity, gender identity, and more, even within one neighborhood.

In order to adapt, to love everyone, we need to improvise. We need to play around with familiar riffs in new ways. We need to work with the other members of the band to avoid chaos. We need to have a sense of playfulness and imagination, following the path of grace and love, but creating something new on the way.

This is why the church has been so different over the ages in a variety of cultures and eras, but still grounded in the same truths.

Faith is like jazz. Follow along.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

"Oh my life will be here waiting for you, my love, to find your way back home to me." -Sophie Milman, "Back Home to Me"

What to Do When We Don’t Know What to Do

(Note: This was first written for my church's newsletter in March 2020.)

In January, I started participating in a program supported by our local synod called the Adaptive Leadership Academy. The goal of the academy over the coming year is to develop leadership skills for situations where there isn’t an easy solution--or perhaps there isn’t a solution at all. 

I’m still early in the program and haven’t finished all of my homework for the first month, but the class has got me thinking about the leadership lessons I’ve learned from experience, wiser people, and a whole lot of trial and error. They have proven useful not just for leadership, but for life and faith growth as well. I share them here hoping they can be useful for someone else as they have for me. 

Be Kind -- Give the benefit of the doubt. You catch more flies with honey. Do unto others as you would have them do to you. However you name it, I’ve learned that treating people with kindness and dignity is the best way to move things forward.

See Every Person As Someone Jesus Loves -- I’ve mentioned this in at least one sermon, but a woman in Bible study once told me she tries to look at every person in her day and say, “This is someone Jesus loves.” I try to do this and it always makes a difference. Looking at people through the eyes of Jesus helps me to have more patience and grace and see possible actions I wouldn’t otherwise.

Participation Is More Important Than Perfection -- I can get stuck sometimes not doing something because I don’t have the perfect answer or don’t think I can do the work as well as others. I’ve learned it is usually better to just do my best with a few mistakes than to do nothing at all. People are often forgiving and are more likely to remember the effort than the mistakes. 

When in Doubt, Ask -- I can have a bad habit of not asking questions because I’m afraid of looking like I don’t know. Or I can assume I know what someone wants or needs when I don’t. I’m slowly learning to ask questions when I don’t understand so I can do what is needed and do it right the first time. 

Don't Get Defensive; Get Curious -- When there is disagreement, our natural tendency is to get defensive and prove our point, but responding with curiosity can build trust and solutions faster. I try saying, "I'm having a hard time understanding your perspective. Can you help me understand?" or "This seems really important to you. Why is that?" As a friend and colleague once said, "We need to think of curiosity as a spiritual discipline." (She's one of those wiser-than-me people.)

What Does Love Look Like in This Situation? -- Sometimes it’s being active and sometimes it’s just being quiet and listening. Asking this question when I’m not sure what to do helps me put God’s priorities in the picture and focus my options.

There are many times in life where we may not know what to do or have a perfect answer. Those moments can be scary, but I’ve found that if I work through those moments with practices like these, the destination is better than when I don’t.

Move forward. God is with you.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“All these thoughts are an ocean that I’m drowning in.” -Judah & the Lion, “Over My Head”

The World Needs Your Story

(Note: This post first appeared in my church's newsletter for December 2019.)

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” -John 1:5

When I was young, I once got it in my head to make a list of all the “heroes” of the Bible who had been “perfect” so that I could study them more closely. I was disappointed to realize how hard this was. Abraham and Sarah were impatient and lied. Moses lost his temper. David? Adultery and murder. Peter? Denial. Paul? Murder again. Adam and Eve? Um...no.

Over time, my disappointment transformed as I made two realizations. First was that the point is not for me to be perfect, but trust that God’s love is perfect. God’s grace shines in the darkness not because of human perfection, but because of godly persistence. God has always used imperfect people to do the things of heaven here on earth. God always seems to show up in the wrong place: in the wilderness, among the sinners, in a manger, and, above all, at the cross. 

Second, that meant that my imperfect life could be used by God, too. I didn’t need to be perfect, but faithful; not flawless, but following. The good news of the Gospel is about a god who comes to heal, help, and correct the broken people and places of this world. God takes flesh not only in Jesus at Bethlehem, but in us, too.

Our job as Christians isn’t to never make mistakes, but to allow the grace of God to heal us and then share how that healing matters with others. That is the real story of the heroes of the Bible. God reshaped their lives and the effects are an inspiration to us today. In the same way, your life, your story is important for others. 

We may not think of ourselves as heroes of faith or important people in the world, but your story of faith -- your victories and joys and doubts and struggles, and where God is in the midst of them -- are exactly the good news someone needs to hear. This Advent and Christmas, remember that God is with us not just in the Jesus in the manger, but in the Jesus who lives in you. May God use you to light the darkness.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“Here in my head full of shame, you pick me up and say I look like you.” -Jars of Clay, “Sing”

Learning to Live Together

Being a part of a community is hard.

It is, right?

Whether that community is our neighbors, co-workers, or the people we live with, getting along can be hard work. We have different opinions, different priorities, different favorites, and so on. Even in church, we don't agree on everything. We may love one another as Christians, but not always like each other as people.

Now, when we get along with the people around us, it's fantastic, but when we don't, it can be everything from stressful to destructive.

I've been thinking and reading and talking a lot recently about how to get along with other people because it seems to be a concern right now. There is a general consensus that we aren't as polite, tolerant, or open-minded as we used to be  need to be as a society.  No one likes the division we're seeing in our world right now, but no one's quite sure how to deal with it.

I don't have perfect answers, but I firmly believe that the God who told us to "love one another," "love your enemies," and forgive "seventy seven times" does not want us to live divided or suspicious. And I believe the Church has a role to play in this, helping to proclaim God's reality in our world.

To that end, I'm planning to write a series of blogs about how to live together (#howtolivetogether), sharing some of the wisdom I've been uncovering and hopefully starting some conversations or habits that move us in a new direction. In the resurrection, Jesus transformed the world and in baptism, we are transformed as well. With the Spirit's help, we can continue the work of transformation.

Standing in the Grey,
Pastor Ari

“It feels like giving in. It feels like starting over. It feels like waking up.” -Jars of Clay, “Two Hands”

Improper Amputations

"[Jesus said,] 'If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire'" (Mark 9:43).

Last Sunday, the assigned gospel lesson in the Revised Common Lectionary included this happy line along with orders to remove your feet and eyes if they cause you to sin, as well. Jesus is commanding his followers to remove sources of sin and evil in their lives, but as far as I know, no one has ever taken this passage literally and maimed themselves in the name of holiness. (Which is good!) 

But the more I thought about this passage, the more I think we carry that out in ways that may not be literal, but are still destructive and unhealthy. 

I was thinking about it while watching the news of our politicians belittling each other or calling each other unAmerican, hateful, or even evil. 

I was thinking about it in Bible study where people shared stories of being rejected or shamed by someone in the Church sometime in their past. 


I was thinking about it in conversations where people talk about unfriending loved ones or removing themselves from from a social circle because of a disagreement about politics or religion.

And I was thinking that far too often (especially in this divided age of history), we see the sources of sin and evil in our lives as other people. Jesus warns about the evils within ourselves, but instead, we attempt to amputate the people we think are problems. 

This is the very problem Jesus is addressing in this passage, which begins with his disciples saying, "There was someone healing in your name, but he wasn't one of us, so we told him to get lost." That person was different. He was a problem. We had to get rid of him. 

But Jesus says, "No." And then he talks about hands and feet and eyes as a way of saying, "Don't look for evil in other people without seeing it in yourself, too." Whenever we silence, ignore, cast off, or dehumanize others because of differences, we fail to be faithful to Jesus. Whenever we see people as bad instead of their actions or words, we are likely ignoring the faults within ourselves. 

Sadly, history is filled with examples of people attempting to cut off those they saw as a problem by silencing, alienating, or even killing them. We've seen it done to monarchies and peasants, Jews and Muslims, Catholics and Protestants, foreigners and minorities, political radicals and moderates, leftists and right wingers, communists and capitalists, and on and on... All of these efforts have involved hatred or violence and are rarely remembered as high points in human story. 

In this era of division, Jesus' words here and to love my enemies challenge me that we can disagree but not dehumanize, we can be different but not belittle.

And if we seek to reduce evil in the world, we may need to start by removing our hatred, our prejudice, and our own pointing fingers. 

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“Scars are souvenirs you never lose.” -Goo Goo Dolls, “Name”

Farming, Faith, Persistence, and Hope

"[Jesus] also said, ‘The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.'" -Mark 4:26-27

“We can do no great things — only small things with great love.” -Mother Teresa

I've been thinking a lot recently about what it means to be a Christian in our daily lives. How do we live in a chaotic world where so much seems to be out of our control?

So I was struck by the passage from Mark when I read it recently. Though the farmer scatters seed and tends the earth, there is still a mystery to growth. But she trusts that if she waters and cares for the field, there will be growth. There is no one grand gesture that creates growth, but sustained, patient, repeated attention to the seeds.

Jesus says that God's kingdom of grace and love acts in the same way. There is a mystery to the actions of God in this world that we cannot fully understand; we can simply trust that adding our labor will assist in the growth of new life. 

We are like farmers, tending the earth, sowing the seed, but not knowing exactly how it works, nor knowing which seeds will sprout and grow, but trusting that if we continue to seed the world with justice, tend the earth with love, and water it with generosity, a harvest of grace will come forth. 

Patience and persistence in small acts of love may not be sexy or exciting, but they are the tools of God's conquest.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“Faith and guts to guide you; wander ‘til you find you.” -Jars of Clay, “Inland”

Where To Start...

On Maundy Thursday (the Thursday before Easter), the worship service in my tradition begins with the sermon. In explaining this change, the worship reference book* says, "The relocation of the sermon enables the preacher to deal with the various aspects of the theme of Jesus' love as a background for the entire service." In other words, we start with Jesus' love because everything in this worship is about Jesus' love.

As I read that this year, it gave me two thoughts.

First, that is a good summary for Lutheran theology. Jesus' love is the background for everything. Because salvation/eternal life/reconciliation is a gift from God, God's love and grace is the beginning of and background to everything we believe and do. Nothing begins without God's love.

That led to my second thought: what if I tried to live with that thought always in mind?

• My day begins because of Jesus' love. 
• I will begin this email with Jesus' love. 
• Jesus' love will be in the background of this difficult conversation. 
• How is Jesus' love in the background of this meeting? Of this meal with loved ones?
• I will write this blog with Jesus' love...

This week I'm playing around with what that looks like for me. How about you? How would treating Jesus' love as the beginning and background to all you do change how you speak, think, and act (or react)? 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

"Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start." -The Sound of Music, "Do Re Mi"

*(Lutheran Book of Worship: Ministers Desk Edition for anyone who cares.)

Laughter is the Best Evangelism

I don't like meetings. Unless they are short. Even then I feel like I mostly tolerate them. 

So when my church's council meeting this week went over two hours, you'd think I'd be ready to pull my hair out. But as I drove home that night, I could only think about how often we'd laughed during the meeting. 

If you've never served on a church leadership board, laughter is pretty rare. Many people (including me) have horror stories of church council that involve personal attacks, yelling, table pounding, or sometimes worse. I know some who swear they will never serve on a council again because it was such a deflating (and unholy?) experience. 

So as I reflected on our meeting, I was just pleased with how much we had laughed. About a year ago, we decided that the number of times we laugh in a meeting is the main way we would measure the success of the meeting and this one was successful. 

We also aim to laugh in Bible study and during coffee hour and Sunday school. 

Too often, religious people can take themselves and the business of the church too seriously. We think the way to be Christian is to be serious or quiet. This is especially true in my denomination, Lutheranism. I think this is partly because we have roots in parts of Europe that culturally tend to be serious (Germans and Scandinavians) and partly because we've had some controversies in our tradition (e.g. pietism) where emotions were closely tied to bad theology.  

But one of the ideas that occurred to me after my laughter filled meeting this week is that if the message of Jesus that we follow is "Good News," shouldn't we smile sometimes? Doesn't it make sense that laughter and joy would be part of being a disciple of Jesus? 

And before anyone accuses me of belittling the message of Jesus, I think laughter reinforces the Gospel. Laughter helps build community and respect. It deflates ego and selfishness if we can laugh at ourselves. It pushes away fear, which I think is the opposite of healthy faith. And if attracting more people to be followers of Jesus is one of our goals, don't most of us enjoy being with people that make us laugh?

Someone once asked me what kind of church I lead. I said, "We try to take the Gospel seriously, but not ourselves." I think that's a good goal. If we are known for love and laughter, that, to me, is success. And that's no joke.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“Everything in me hopes to be the one you wanted me to be.” -3 Doors Down, “When I’m Gone”