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

Photo by Clark Tibbs on Unsplash

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”

Learn the Story: What the Old Testament Teaches About Jesus

Artwork by Aase Mattson

In September through November, I gave a sermon series I called “Learn the Story” that was based on two main ideas. First, the Bible is really one story told over many books, authors, and years. Second, that story points to and is centered on Jesus, our God made flesh. 

I was motivated to preach this series because of how often I encounter the suggestion that the Old Testament is, well, “old” and unimportant, or that it has little to do with the New Testament, or that “the God of the Old Testament” is not the "God of the New Testament." The more I personally study scripture and Christian theology, I find these ideas to be false and often dangerous. 

For those who couldn’t listen to all the sermons, or anyone who wants a written reference point, here is a summary of my ten sermons from “Learn the Story.” (All the sermons can be viewed in the worship services on our YouTube Channel starting on September 11, 2022.)

1. Made in God’s Image (Genesis 1:24-2:3 and Mark 12:13-17)

• Big Idea: When humans are made in God’s image, we are created to be representative of who God is to the world. When we are fully human, we remind anyone who sees us of what God is like. Language in the creation story suggests we should see all of the earth as God’s temple and we are the priests who manage proper worship. 
• Jesus Connection: Jesus, being both fully God and fully human, is the most perfect image of God we have ever known. A huge part of his mission was to restore the proper relationship between us and God and us and creation so that “Your kingdom come…on earth as it is in heaven.”

2. Rejecting God’s Image (Genesis 1:1-13, 19-23 and Mark 7:1-23)

• Big Idea: Sin (with a capital S) isn’t a broken rule, it’s a broken relationship. Sin comes into the world when we reject God’s image for our own. We prefer to seize control of our lives and don’t trust God to truly be good. 
• Jesus Connection: After losing “paradise” because of sin, God goes with Adam and Eve into the unknown. Jesus meets us in our unknown and dark places and even when we try to put God to death on the cross, Jesus returns to save us from ourselves and restore our lost relationship. 

3. Abraham, Sarah, and the Forever Promise (Genesis 12:1-8 and Luke 1:67-79)

• Big Idea: God makes a promise to one faithful family, Abraham and Sarah, that they will become a great “nation” or “gōi” in Hebrew. But God’s timeline is not always ours. It takes 25 years for Sarah to give birth and hundreds of years for the full promise to arrive. And the promise is for all because “gōi” is usually the word that refers to foreign people, not Jews alone. 
• Jesus Connection: Jesus is the fulfillment of the promise to Abraham and Sarah. Through Jesus’ death and resurrection, all of humanity is invited into the family of Abraham and becomes part of the promise made forever. 

4. Blessed and Limping: Jacob (Genesis 32:9-12, 22-31 and Luke 5:27-32)

• Big Idea: Jacob, Abraham’s grandson, has a checkered past of lying and cheating to get what he wants. It comes to a head when God shows up to wrestle with him in the night. In the morning, Jacob is wounded by God but blessed with a new name and destiny: Israel, “wrestles with God.” We will likely wrestle and struggle with God in our lives, but we can emerge blessed and limping.
• Jesus Connection: Jesus specifically seeks out the “sinners” like Jacob and blesses them. His goal is to transform our shortcomings into blessings. 

5. God the Liberator (Exodus 3:1-14 and Luke 4:16-21)

• Big Idea: This may be the most important story we have outside of the Gospels because it shows us God’s heart. God sides with the oppressed and hurting, and seeks to liberate them. We are meant to “image” God, but sin breaks that and creates a cycle of violence and oppression. God seeks to free the enslaved from their pain and free the slavers from their sin. 
• Jesus Connection: What God does in Exodus, Jesus does at Easter. When we cannot free ourselves, Jesus leads us through the sea of baptism, drowns our oppressors in the water, and we come out as God’s freed people. 

6. Becoming God’s People: Commandments and Wilderness (Exodus 19:1-8 and Matthew 5:13-20)

• Big Idea: God seeks for the Israelites to be “a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.” The Commandments are often seen simply as a list of rules, but God intends for them to tell us what a priestly and holy people look like, what it looks like to bear God’s image. 
• Jesus Connection: Jesus comes to “fulfill the law,” meaning to help us know it’s proper place. We love one another because we have been loved, not because we expect a reward. 

7. What is a Messiah?: Saul, David, and the Kings (1 Samuel 10:17-25 and Mark 8:27-37)

• Big Idea: “Messiah,” or “Christ” in Greek, was not a title unique to Jesus. Messiahs in the Old Testament were usually kings who rescued God’s people from their enemies, established a kingdom for them, and restored proper worship of God (like King David). They were military and political heroes and that’s what people expected Jesus to be. 
• Jesus Connection: Jesus is the True Messiah who turns our assumptions on their heads. He rescues us from the enemies of Sin and Death, establishes the Kingdom of God that has no borders or end, and restores us to worship God as image bearers. 

8. When Everything Falls Apart: The Exile to Babylon (Jeremiah 29:1, 4-14 and John 13:33-35)

• Big Idea: When Jerusalem is destroyed and God’s people sent to exile in Babylon, many question where God is and what they should do since everything they’ve known is gone. God’s answer is to live with hope, act with love, and create peace. No matter the circumstances we should seek that same goal. 
• Jesus Connection: Jesus one time says that the greatest commandments are to “Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.” In times of crucifixion and times of resurrection, we are called to do the same things, just as the exiled Jews were.

9. How to Speak to God: The Psalms (Psalm 13, Psalm 23, and Matthew 26:36-44)

• Big Idea: The Psalms are my favorite book because of their raw honesty. They include songs and prayers that are angry, confused, joyous, hopeless, and everything in between. Instead of “dressing up” or wearing a mask to come before God, we can be honest with our thoughts and emotions. We sometimes limit faith to what we do, but more importantly it’s about what we are: God’s beloved children.
• Jesus Connection: Jesus teaches us to pray to God as “Our Father,” because that’s the relationship God wants with us. And even Jesus prays to God with brutal honesty: “Father take this cup from me. Yet not what I will but your will be done.”

10. Don’t You Remember?: The Prophets (Micah 6:1-8 and Matthew 23:23-28)

• Big Idea: The prophets can make God sound like a grumpy landlord — “Don’t break the rules or I’ll evict you!” — but their words are more like the concerned parent who can see their child going down the wrong path: “If you keeping doing that, there are going to be bad consequences, so please don’t.” Micah summarizes many of the themes from the Old Testament in three simple commands: “Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God.”
• Jesus Connection: What Micah commands is what Jesus does — for us! He brings justice for the suffering in his ministry and for all at the cross, he shows kindness and compassion to all, and he walks humbly with us, teaching us the way of God’s love.

The Big Story’s Big Idea: God created this world and us to be a physical living-out of everything that is good about God. Out of fear and our self-centered nature, we reject God’s image and choose to pursue our own images or idols. God spends the rest of time seeking to call us home and show us that everything we are seeking — liberation, purpose, community, security, hope, peace, justice, acceptance — are found in relationship to God. Jesus is the ultimate example of God’s way, but more importantly is the Messiah who rescues us from ourselves and restores us as God’s image bearers.  

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“I’m still learning things I ought to know by now.” -Vertical Horizon, "You’re a God”

Learn the Story: How the Old and New Testament Fit Together

Illustration by Aase Mattson

While I was growing up in the church, I got the impression that the Old Testament, which makes up the first three quarters of the Bible was... well, old. As Christians, we could learn some important things from the Old Testament (or the Hebrew Scriptures) but it was mostly background information. The Bible that really mattered was the New Testament, the Greek Scriptures, because they were about Jesus.

As I grew and studied scripture though, I came to a very different conclusion of what Christianity teaches. Thanks to some good mentors and authors like Philip Yancey and Daniel Erlander, I realized that the New Testament doesn't replace the Old Testament, it continues and completes it. 

One of the best examples of this is in Luke 24, where the resurrected Jesus twice explains to his disciples how his ministry, death, and resurrection is a fulfillment of the Hebrew Scriptures: "everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled" (v. 44). (See also: v. 27) Jesus is the culmination of everything that has been taught and done through the history of God's people, not the rejection of it. In fact, if you aren't familiar with the Hebrew Scriptures, you miss a lot of the symbolism and meaning behind what Jesus does.

Unfortunately, I still hear from people that they believe (or have been told) that the Hebrew Scriptures are... old. 

This past week, I started a special sermon series at my church I'm calling "Rooted: Learn the Story."  I'm teaching from ten major stories of the Old Testament in order to show how they are part of one continuous story and how that story points us to Jesus. If that's the kind of thing that interests you, please check out the sermons as they are posted on our YouTube page. The first one, "Made in God's Image," can be seen here. In it, I make two central points: 1) to be created in God's image means we are created to reflect God's character and nature to the world and 2) when we do, creation is good, as God intended it to be. 

I hope someone may find this helpful.

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

"Gonna need a little water from another time." -John McCutcheon, "Water From Another Time"

Rooted: Learn the Story Sermons

• September 11:
  • Made In God’s Image -- Genesis 1:24-2:3
• September 18: 
  • Rejecting God’s Image -- Genesis 3:1-13, 19-23
• September 25: 
  • Abraham, Sarah, and the Forever Promise -- Genesis 12:1-8
• October 2: 
  • Blessed and Limping (Jacob) -- Genesis 32:9-12, 22-31
• October 9: 
  • God the Liberator (Exodus from Egypt) -- Exodus 3:1-14
• October 16: 
  • Becoming God’s People (10 Commandments & The Wilderness) -- Exodus 19:1-8
• October 23: 
  • What is a Messiah? (Saul, David, and the Kings) -- 1 Samuel 10:17-25
• October 30: 
  • When Everything Falls Apart (The Exile to Babylon) -- Jeremiah 29:1, 4-14
• November 6: 
  • How to Speak to God (The Psalms) -- Psalm 13 and Psalm 23
• November 13: 
  • Don’t You Remember? (The Prophets) -- Micah 6:1-8
    

Politics and the Pulpit

Photo by Brad Dodson on Unsplash

It has long been said that one should never discuss religion or politics in polite company. Whether that was ever universally true, we now live in an era in this country where political affiliation has become a litmus test for whether I should be polite in someone's company at all. And religious affiliation and language has become tied up in political discourse in very unhealthy ways that undermine faith and distort the Christian message. 

Given that landscape, it's important for churches and pastors (like me) to spend more time talking about politics, not less. 

To begin with, we need to redefine what we mean when we say "politics." Most people use the word "political" to mean "partisan." Politics is really just the process by which a group of people decide how to live together. Who has power within the group? What guidelines will be used to make decisions? What will be acceptable behavior? 

From that perspective, Christianity makes many political assertions. The Bible says an awful lot about loving the neighbor, honoring the humanity and dignity of every person (e.g. "the least of these" in Matt. 25:31-46), taking special care of the marginalized people in society (e.g. foreigners, orphans, and widows in Deut. 14:28-29), and acceptable behavior (don't kill, steal, or lie; be generous and compassionate). Jesus was executed, in part, by political leaders because he was challenging their power structure. Churches are, in a way, political organizations that are seeking to live as a community guided by the teachings of Jesus as their core. 

When it comes to secular politics, those same principles should guide Christians in how they live with their non-Christian neighbors and, in democracies like ours, how they make decisions when they vote. Of course, there is a lot of complexity and nuance in how we follow the teachings of Jesus in a church and the complexity is magnified when we seek to follow them in a diverse, secular society. 

One problem is that secular political parties are not guided by the same principles; they are founded on  ideas like individual and property rights, national defense, and social responsibility. The policies and priorities of parties can often overlap with scripture and teachings of Jesus, but no political party has ever fully embodied the Christian message. 

In addition, people of deep and sincere faith can disagree on what the best policies are to reflect our faith. The social statements that have been written and approved by my church body, the ELCA, are great examples of this. 

Especially in a country like ours with only two competitive parties, all this means that Christians have to make compromises in voting because we have to vote for a platform or candidate in total. My faith may lead me to agree with one candidate on policies A, D, and E, and the other on policies B and C, but neither on policy F. Which principles do I prioritize to make a decision? 

This is where it's important for a church or a pastor to speak on politics, not to elevate one party over another, but to help Christians understand what Jesus says about how we are to live together and to reflect on how they may align with current issues. (For instance: What does mercy and redemption look like in a prison system? If Jesus repeatedly warns about excessive wealth, how should we shape our fiscal policy?)

We confuse "political" and "partisan" because they often mean the same thing in practice in the US; to take a political stand is to fully adopt one partisan package over another. What really troubles me is that more and more often, it seems as though people are adopting a party platform and fitting their faith to match their partisan politics. Many then use their faith as a justification for policies that have little to do with Christian teaching and/or defend their politics with the same existential ferocity usually practiced by religious fanatics. (I have seen some Christian politicos dismiss Jesus' "love your enemies" command if the enemy is their political opponent because "they" are "evil.")

I believe a lot of this problem is caused because we have not talked about politics in church, have not encouraged people to think theologically about their politics and how they vote. If we have, we have simplified it to one party is always good and one is always evil, instead of acknowledging that no political party or leader can really be that pure. 

It's also important for us to talk about faith and politics more because it gives us a better sense of perspective. Politics is important because it has real impacts on the lives of people here and now, but the church has thrived and outlived many, many governments, movements, philosophies, and leaders. I am often passionate about who I vote for because I hope they will better reflect the values of my faith, but I always remind myself that they are not a replacement for God and my allegiance is finally not to a party, a president, or even a country, but to Jesus. The kingdom of Jesus will always outlive our imperfect attempts to recreate it in our politics. 

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

“Oh, time will tell eventually, oh, I am not your enemy.” -The Rescues, “Get Back”

Is Faith a Destination or a Process?

Photo by Dave Hoefler on Unsplash

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?

Photo by Abbat on Unsplash

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”

Finding Love in Chernobyl

This summer I binged my way through the HBO miniseries "Chernobyl," a dramatization of the nuclear plant disaster in 1986 and its aftermath.

I loved it.

There are themes and ideas in "Chernobyl" that could fill a book or a year's worth of blogs. It is a condemnation of lies.  It is a warning against fear of imperfection. It is also a celebration of the ordinary heroes of history, namely the thousands of citizens and soldiers who responded to the disaster and suffered as a result.

In the second episode, there is a scene of some of these ordinary heroes that I found profoundly moving. After the initial explosion, the leaders gather a group of plant workers and ask for three volunteers for a special task. In return they will get a permanent increase in pay and other benefits. The workers, smelling baloney, refuse to volunteer until they know what is actually happening.

After some silence, the leaders tell the truth: the reactor is still melting down and when it falls into the flooded basement, it will cause an explosion that will likely kill or contaminate millions of people. The only solution is to go into the basement and manually open the drainage pipes. The basement is so filled with radiation that anyone who enters it will die within a couple years. There's even a chance they will die in the basement.

They will likely never enjoy their additional benefits. They will not be remembered by history. They will not be thanked by the millions who never knew their lives were in danger. Their only real reward is to know that they will give their lives in order to save millions more.

Slowly, three men stand up and volunteer. They are named in the show, but I don't know if they are real names or they were made up to fill in a blank space in the pages of history. The episode ends with them walking into the dark basement to meet their fate.

Years ago, Veggie Tales in the movie "Jonah" defined compassion as "you see someone needs help and you want to help them." In John's gospel, Jesus says, "No one has greater love than this: that one lay one's life down for a friend" (John 15:13). In these few heroes forgotten to history, I saw that love and compassion personified. They voluntarily shortened their lives in order to save millions of people that didn't even know they were in danger.

Not all heroes are famous and not all love is romantic. Sometimes it is just doing what needs to be done. Sometimes God's grace can be seen in an HBO disaster movie.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“You're a danger, like love and radiation.” -All Star United, “Love and Radiation”

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.)

A Question for Anti-Semitic Christians

Throughout the Old Testament, God makes promises to the Jewish people. At least 17 times God or God's prophets speak of "everlasting covenants" made to God's people to protect them, love them, be with them, and be their God. God specifically tells David in 2 Samuel 7 that his kingdom will be "made sure forever before Me" and God will not take away God's "steadfast love" from David's descendants (that is, the Jewish people). God chose the descendants of Abraham and David to be God's people forever.  

As a Christian, I believe that Jesus came and amended that promise so that all the world might be adopted into God's people. But that original promise was never erased. Even though I may disagree with my Jewish neighbors on who Jesus was, we remain part of the same religious family tree and share the "everlasting covenants" of Abraham and Sarah and David. Even in the New Testament, St. Paul says explicitly, "Has God rejected His people [the Jews]? By no means!" (Romans 11:1).

If you are someone who believes that Jews are evil, or enemies of Christians, or a threat to civilization, or need to be opposed in the name of God, then my question is simple. If God has abandoned the "everlasting covenants" of the Old Testament, then what's to keep God from abandoning the promises made in Jesus Christ? What does your scorn of the Jewish people say about God's eternal nature?

How can you trust a God who has gone back on promises to the Jewish people to uphold promises made to Christians? Either God is trustworthy or God is not.  

I will put my trust in the God of welcome and reconciliation (2 Cor. 5). I believe yours is a liar.

From the Gray, 

Pastor Ari

“If our hearts have turned to stone, there is hope; we know the rocks will cry out.” -Jars of Clay, “Shelter”

Norse Gods and the God of Easter

My daughter and I recently finished reading "Norse Mythology" by Neil Gaiman, which retells the old myths in ways that a great storyteller like Gaiman can. Being part Norwegian, my daughter and I both love these stories that reflect the fears and dreams of our ancestors.

But I also think about how flawed these gods are. Much like their Greek counterparts, the gods of these ancient myths are often selfish, vain, hotheaded, violent, deceptive, or just foolish. In other words, they are very human... except with more power to cause trouble.

All of these old stories are one of the reasons I continue to believe in the God of the Bible, and especially the one found in Jesus Christ.

Unlike the gods of ancient mythology, the God I find in the Bible very unhuman. To be sure, God has many human characteristics. God gets angry, jealous, and impatient at time. God weeps with sadness. But the God of the Bible is different in that this God isn't motivated by selfishness or human ego. Just the opposite. The overarching story of the Bible is of a God who persistently tries to reconcile with creation, who reaches out to help and serve. In fact, almost every time God is angry, jealous, or weeping, it isn't because he's childish; it's because humans don't accept or understand the love he's trying to share with them.

This coming week is Holy Week, when we will retell the central story of the Christian church: that God loved humanity so much that God put aside his power and became human, not to cause mischief or trouble, but to heal our separation, to serve others, to willingly be humiliated and receive the brunt of our human condition (fear, anger, hatred, violence), die and be resurrected so that the negative parts of us might be overcome and no longer poison us. This is not how most humans would act. This is not a story we find in most ancient mythologies.

And that's why I find it believable.

If I were to make up a story about God and the universe, it wouldn't be a story about a powerful being seeking weakness and service or asking me to sacrifice and turn the other cheek and love my enemies. If I were to make up a god, it would act a lot like me and/or reinforce my natural inclinations to seek vengeance and be self-centered.

But the God of Easter asks me to die with him so I might be raised again. The God of Easter asks me to live with faith, hope, love, compassion, and generosity, not strength or wealth. The God of Easter has made himself vulnerable for my benefit so I might be vulnerable for the sake of others.

I couldn't make this story up. So I trust in it and I try to live it.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“Not much of this makes sense to me.” -Guster, “Happy Frappy”

What is Normal Anyway?

This morning my church hosted a network meeting of Cross+Generational ministry workers in our area. In the course of our conversation, we discussed mental illness and the difficulty many people have talking about their own or a loved one's mental illness, even though it isn't nearly as unusual as people think.

We stigmatize many issues like mental illness as not being "normal" and therefore feel uncomfortable talking about them, but perhaps the problem is our idea of "normal."

Statistically, it is more likely than not that you or someone you love has experienced mental illness, addiction, miscarriage or fertility issues, incarceration, sexual assault, or abuse. By definition, then, it isn't the person who has never dealt with any of these issues that is "normal," it's all the rest of us who have. And if that's the case then why do we so often treat all these topics as taboo or strange? Especially in church?

As I think about this further, isn't it in the Bible and Christian theology that it's normal to be broken and imperfect? That we experience troubles?

Jesus said he came not for the healthy but the sick (Mark 2:17), and he meant the sin-sick, the heartsick, the sick and tired of life, and sick to death of hiding my troubles.

If that's true, then church is where we bring our struggles and hurt to break down stigmas and taboos, not where we hide them. Then church really is for normal people, but normal doesn't mean what we thought it means.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“We made an art out of neglecting what we don’t want to see.” -Jars of Clay, “Skin and Bones”

Holy Week Devotions (A Throwback Post)

Jim LePage is one of my favorite artists.
See more of his work at http://jimlepage.com/

I wrote this as a booklet for a Family Faith event at my last congregation. It was (obviously) written for families with children, but could easily be adapted to be used with any age or even as personal devotions. I share it hoping it can find some more mileage after a few years in the garage. Have a blessed and meaningful Holy Week!

From the Gray,

Pastor Ari

Family Devotions For 

The Three Days of Easter

These devotions are meant to encourage family conversation about some themes of Holy Week and are designed to be used by families with children of elementary age or older.

• What are the Three Days?  The Three Days, or Triduum (TRIJ-oo-uhm), refers to the time between Maundy Thursday and Easter Sunday.  It was on these days that Jesus was betrayed, tried, crucified, and resurrected in glory. We continue to remember and relive these events as a reminder of God's amazing gift of love for us.
• Isn't that four days? To people today, yes, but in Jesus' time, Jewish people said a day started at sundown, not midnight.  That means that Friday started at sundown on Thursday and the Last Supper was on Friday in the minds of the early church. Hence, the three days are Friday (including Thursday night), Saturday, and Sunday.

Maundy Thursday: We Need Food to Live

• Take turns describing your idea of a perfect meal.  What would you eat? Who would you invite? Where would you eat?
• Read Luke 22:7-30. 
• Jesus and his disciples are eating the Passover meal of lamb, matzoh bread, and wine right before he died.  Jesus takes the bread and wine and calls them his body and blood.  (This is why we have communion in church!) By doing this, Jesus tells us that he is like food: we need him to survive. And because Jesus died for us, we will eat at the great feast in heaven, too, which will have the best food ever. 
• Fun note: It's true that you are what you eat. When we take communion or pray or help others or tell people we love them, we become more like Jesus and God's love spreads in the world.
• Pray:  Jesus, thank you for giving us food to make us strong, especially...(name some favorite foods). We know we need you like we need food and we know you'll always love us. Help us be more like you and to feed other people who are hungry, too. Amen. 

Good Friday: Don't Be Afraid

• Take turns describing a time that you felt scared.  What happened? Why were you scared? How did you get over your fear?
• Read John 20:19-23.
• Today is the day we remember that Jesus died on the cross for us. When Jesus died, his friends, the disciples, were very scared because Jesus was gone and because they thought some people might hurt them, too.  After Jesus rose from the dead, he came to them and told them that death would never really win again. Because God has given us the Holy Spirit in baptism, we don't have to be afraid. God loves us and will always watch over us.
• Fun note: In the Bible, angels greet people by saying, “Don't be afraid.” God is with us; we don't need to fear anything.
• Pray: Jesus, sometimes we get scared like your disciples were. Help us to trust you and know that we don't need to be afraid because you will always be with us.  Thank you for loving us so much that you died on the cross.  Amen.

Holy Saturday: Love That Never Ends

• Take turns describing a time you did something bad. What did you do? Did you hurt someone's feelings? Were you punished? How did you feel?
• Read Romans 8:31-39.
• At the Easter Vigil on this night, we read eight stories that talk about how God loves us no matter what and how God will never, ever give up on helping us see how much he loves us.  Sometimes we do bad things or make other people sad, but God will always forgive us and Jesus proves that there is nothing we can ever, ever do that will make God love us less. God will always chase after us and bring us home.
• Take time to tell each other why you love each other in your family.
• Pray: Jesus, thank you that you will always love us no matter what. Thank you for all the people we love and for all the people who love us. Thank you for all the ways you care for us. You are awesome! Amen.

“Since Love is lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?” -"How Can I Keep from Singing" (Traditional Hymn)

The Other Side of the Line in the Sand

One of the things I love about reading Seth Godin is how he often closely skirts the Gospel even though he's writing about internet and the connection economy. This week he posted a blog titled "We need to hate them more" about how many people build up a following or fan base by rallying people against the "other."

"It's tempting to enjoy the short-term rush that comes from hating the other guys. It's certainly a good way to get the crowd on its feet. But it doesn't last. ... Hating the other almost always destroys the hater." 

It reminds me of a sermon I heard once in which the preacher said, "Whenever we draw a line in the sand, Jesus will be on the other side of it." I don't remember what text she was preaching from, but there's no shortage of options. Jesus defending the adulterous woman in John 8? Jesus defending the children to his disciples? Jesus being rebuked for eating with "sinners?" Whenever someone tries to tell Jesus "That person is an outsider," Jesus' reply is always, "Then so am I."

There's no shortage of examples of people in our world who make their name by pointing fingers at the "other." They tell us that what the other thinks/says/has done/might do is too dangerous/stupid/evil/wrong for us to trust them/listen to them/work with them/be around them/allow them to live.

Whenever we draw a line in the sand, Jesus will be on the other side of it.

It's easy to play favorites; it's uncomfortable to build a bigger circle. It's easy to point fingers; it's uncomfortable to listen.

I think some discomfort is a healthy part of faith. Love takes risk. Forgiveness is hard. Admitting when we're wrong feels unnatural. Being patient and listening to other opinions seem like luxuries I don't have time for. That's why I have to work at them and pray for them.

Perhaps when Jesus said faith was a narrow road, it wasn't that any of us are walking it alone, but that it's hard for us to make room for all the people Jesus has invited to walk it with us.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“Blessed are the shallow; depth they'll never find.” -Jars of Clay, "Frail"

Jesus Christ, Brain Scientist

Two thousand years ago, Jesus said an awful lot about helping others, being kind and generous, being more concerned about others than yourself, and to be wary of wealth because it can get in the way of our relationship with God. (Normally I'd link to some Bible verses here, but seriously, just pick any page in the four gospels and you'll probably find him talking about one of these things.)

And for two thousand years, we in the church have sought to follow these commands in various ways and for various reasons. Some follow Jesus' words to earn God's favor (or avoid wrath! [neither of which I endorse]), some do so as a public witness of faith, some do so because they think Jesus' words are just a wise way to live, and so on. We sometimes disagree on how best to love our neighbor or feed the poor, but most Christians take Jesus' words seriously and try in our own ways to live them out.

What's occurred to me recently is that modern science is starting to back up a lot of his words about how to live as good for happiness, good for health, and good for society.

• Michael Norton has research that shows we can buy happiness...by spending money on others. 
• Shawn Achor says that spending time doing kind things for others, giving thanks, and meditating (prayer?) are keys to wiring our brains for happiness. 
• Brene Brown has shown that embracing our imperfections (confessing sin, maybe?) and living with vulnerability is core to joy, love, and stronger relationships. 
• In the documentary "Happy," several researchers say their studies show humans are happier in forgetting themselves and helping others than they are trying to make themselves happy. 
• And there are growing studies that suggest that large amounts of wealth are linked to people being less empathetic, less ethical, and less generous (scroll just past halfway to find the studies cited), but not any happier.

I think almost any person would list having a purpose and personal happiness as core goals for their life. Ironically, this research is suggesting that the best way to find them is to stop thinking about yourself and focus on serving, loving, and giving and happiness and purpose will naturally follow. Sounds a little bit like, "Those who lose their life for my sake will find it" (Luke 9:24).

Maybe when Jesus shared all these words with us years ago, he wasn't just letting us know what God thinks of things or setting up religious standards for Christianity. Perhaps he was also giving us insight into how we are created to live, in essence saying, "You should be loving, forgiving, and generous because your brain and body is hardwired to react positively to those things."

I am not an expert in all of this science and I know this is a large leap to make, but if we are made in the image of God and God is loving, generous, and compassionate, it makes sense to me that those traits would be indelibly marked within us.

I'm excited to see what else this growing field of science might reveal to us, because for all those who've ever told me that Jesus' words about love and compassion don't work "in the real world," the real world of our brains is starting to look more like the Kingdom of God.

From the Gray,
Pastor Ari

“'Cause we are miracles wrapped up in chemicals.” -Gary Go, "Wonderful"

Make Yourself Uncomfortable

I value the daily blog posts of Seth Godin because of the way they often challenge me to think outside the box and approach problems from new angles. About two weeks ago, he had this gem that has been rattling around in my brain ever since:

'Doing the best I can 

...is actually not the same as, "doing everything I can.”

When we tell people we're doing the best we can, we're actually saying, "I'm doing the best I'm comfortable doing."

As you've probably discovered, great work makes us uncomfortable.'

The italics at the end are mine because that was the part that really grabbed me. It felt like a personal challenge that rings with truth from my own personal experience. I can be safe and comfortable and do okay work, but typically the biggest accomplishments and successes of my life and career have required some difficult decisions and leaps of faith.

It just so happens that this week's Gospel lesson feels like a perfect dovetail to this blog. In Matthew 16, Jesus tells his disciples that being the Messiah will lead to his own death and then challenges them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life?"

Exactly what it means for us to take up our cross is a topic that could fill a book, but suffice it to say that what Jesus describes does not sound comfortable or safe. "There is great work to be done," he is telling them, "but it won't be easy."

And it's advice Jesus himself abides by. Jesus could keep teaching and healing people and the crowds would eat it up, but his end game isn't to help a few hundred people; he is there to change the world and reveal God to all people. According to Matthew's gospel, he spends his final night before crucifixion scared, worried, and literally sweating it out. Great work makes us uncomfortable...

I think there are two good lessons for Christians in this passage to ponder. First, how often do we assume that doing the right thing should be easy? If I'm doing what God asks of me, shouldn't it go smoothly? Jesus says, "No." Following Jesus is life-giving and rewarding ("those who lose their life for my sake will find it..."), but Jesus doesn't say anything in this passage about easy or comfortable. If that seems strange, just think of marriage. Almost every couple who has been married for thirty or more years tells me that staying together takes work and learning and patience, but the struggles have made the relationship stronger and richer.

The second lesson is that we need to get more comfortable with being uncomfortable. It seems to me that many or most churches struggle with breaking out of old patterns that proving ineffective at growing disciples or engaging the world because they are afraid of trying something that might fail. There is also the prevailing issue that in practice, most churches work to keep their existing members comfortable and happy. Doing bold and important work takes risks and it will not please everyone, but in an age where religious affiliation is on the decline in the Western World, standing pat is not a success story either. And as a friend is fond of reminding me, because of God's grace, "We have permission to fail, but we don't have permission to be indifferent."

If great work makes us uncomfortable and taking up our cross and losing our lives helps us find life, then maybe I need to be more aware of my decision making. Maybe my question for making decisions shouldn't be "Does this feel comfortable?" but "Does this feel important?"

“Beloved Enemy demands my life and all I am; but then He blesses me and gives it back again.” –Wes King, "Magnificent Defeat"

I Don't Like Genesis 22

I've been dreading this coming Sunday for over a month.

You see, this coming Sunday, the lectionary my church uses has appointed Genesis 22:1-14 as the Old Testament reading. And Genesis 22 is one of my least favorite parts of the Bible: the (near) sacrifice of Isaac.

This is the type of text that I usually preach on because there are elements to it that I just can't let pass without some kind of commentary. But the elements that make this passage so difficult also make it hard for me to shape into a decent sermon*. So after much thought I decided to wrestle with it here instead.

For those who are not familiar with the story, God chooses to "test" Abraham by asking him to sacrifice his only remaining son, Isaac, who was a miracle child and meant to start a great "nation" of people. (Abraham's semi-legitimate son, Ishmael, was already sent off in another troubling episode.) Abraham obeys and gets so far as placing his bound child on the altar and raising the knife to slay him when God steps in and stops him.

I'm bothered by the text because of the connections it holds with two problems that are sadly still relevant today: child abuse and violence in the name of God.  When we continue to see children abused and exploited and when suicide bombings, apartheid, and KKK lynchings backed by religious beliefs are current or in recent memory, it's troubling to read a story of God promoting this type of behavior and a person of God who is willing to do both -- and is commended for it.

There are many explanations of this text that seek to ease some of the tension in it:

• God had invested a lot in Abraham in making him the father of promise and needed to know that he would be faithful regardless of the task.
• Abraham's Schwarzenegger-esque words to his servant--"We'll be back"--suggest he expected that God wouldn't actually make him sacrifice Isaac and both would return.
• God was using this episode to condemn child sacrifice (which was practiced by many of Israel's neighboring religions) and show Abraham how his God was different from other gods.
• Isaac was likely a teenager and Abraham was over 100 years old and couldn't have over-powered Isaac. Therefore, Isaac wasn't a victim, but a willing participant. (In fact many early church leaders used this story as a foretelling of Christ, who also willingly carried the wood to be used for his execution up a hill expecting to lose his life.)

But none of those explanations answer the biggest problem I have with the story: Why did God feel the need to test Abraham? Was God feeling cranky? Was it morbid curiosity? Shouldn't God have already known whether Abraham was faithful? (Abraham had already left his family and home and moved hundreds of miles at God's request.) 

I want to believe that Abraham got the message wrong. I want to believe that between the time the events happened and they were written down, the detail of God testing Abraham was added by the scribes. But I believe that the hard parts of the Bible can't just be brushed off because they're hard or we don't like them. We have to deal with them.

But we don't have to deal with them in a vacuum.

One of the parts of Lutheranism that I love is how we read scripture and one of the key parts of how we do that is the premise that "scripture interprets scripture." Martin Luther, who was often arguing the meaning of scripture with his opponents, knew there were parts of the Bible that didn't seem to agree with each other and so insisted that difficult or confusing texts be read in the context of the whole Bible and especially in the context of the words of Jesus.

In that light, Genesis 22 is easier to swallow. Elsewhere, God clearly condemns child sacrifice (Lev. 18:21; Deut. 18:10), God speaks through Hosea to say "I desire mercy, not sacrifice," and Jesus says "Blessed are the peacemakers" and "Let the little children come to me, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to them." Regardless of whether God tested Abraham or why, I look for solace in the fact that in the end, God's true nature won out. God stayed the execution and kept Abraham from killing his son. That is some good news in an otherwise difficult text.

I still feel very uncomfortable with this text, but faith, like life, is rarely simple and God, if the Bible is any indication, is quite complicated. I sincerely pray often to know and understand God better, but Abraham knew God well and that didn't seem to make his life any simpler either. Just one more troubling thing to wrestle with.

“I’m not sure if anybody understands.” -Fun., “Some Nights”

*To me, a sermon is the Living Word of God encountering human reality and creating new life. That sounds kind of vague and fluffy, I'm sure, but what I mean by it is that a sermon is not the same as a lecture. A lecture passes along information; a sermon creates an encounter with God's law and gospel. Every attempt I made with Genesis 22 felt like a lecture.

The Wounded Christ

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

As we approach another Easter, there is one detail in the story of the resurrection that always fascinates me and yet, I’ve never read anything about it in commentaries or heard a sermon about it. It’s a detail that doesn’t always show up in the readings for church until the week after Easter, when we read about Thomas the Confessor (instead of the Doubter, but that’s for another column).

The detail that always fascinates me is that Jesus is still wounded.

I’d think that the God that can restart Jesus’ heart and lungs after two days could stitch up the holes in his hands, feet, and side. After all, throughout the Gospels, God’s power cures leprosy, heals blindness, and makes legs walk again. So why does Jesus still carry wounds?

In the Gospel accounts, the wounds function partly as identification. Jesus greets the bewildered disciples and says, “Put your hands in my side and touch my hands.” (John 20:20, for example) But wouldn’t scars have worked just as well? (Note he says “IN my side,” not “here’s the scar.”) And surely they would have recognized him without that, right?

I’m not sure why the power of God would have chosen to leave Jesus wounded, but I’ve come to develop my own meaning for them. As I read the story now, I reflect on the way in which even after resurrection and new life, we carry scars and wounds. Even though God gives us new life in Christ, being baptized or saved or redeemed or resurrected (or whatever word you prefer) doesn’t make us perfect. Though God imbues us with holiness, we still carry reminders of frailty. 

And that holds true for all of the resurrection moments in our lives, all of the second chances and new beginnings that we experience. Whenever we greet a new start, we carry our old wounds with us. It’s an image for which I’m grateful because it reminds me that I’m human, simultaneously sinner and saint, as Martin Luther would put it, and those scars connect me with others in their lives. As Train sang in their song “Bruises,” “These bruises make for better conversation… You’re not alone in how you’ve been. Everybody loses; we’ve all got bruises.” Even Jesus.

“Yes and I will run the distance, if you’ll please, please excuse my crutch.” -Vigilantes of Love, “Resplendent”

What Alec Baldwin Can Teach Us About Loving Our Enemies

Alec Baldwin is apparently done with the media. I learned this from a recent op-ed piece in the Washington Post. Depending what you think of Alec Baldwin and his many public and political opinions, you may greet this news with joy, disappointment, or indifference (I'll take option 3 myself), but the op-ed article highlighted a fascinating quote from Baldwin's farewell interview:

"In the New Media culture, anything good you do is tossed in a pit, and you are measured by who you are on your worst day. What’s the Boy Scout code? Trustworthy. Loyal. Helpful. Friendly. Courteous. Kind. Obedient. Cheerful. Thrifty. Brave. Clean. Reverent. I might be all of those things, at certain moments. But people suspect that whatever good you do, you are faking. You’re that guy. You’re that guy that says this."

I happened to read this article the week after the assigned text for preaching was Matthew 5:38-48, which includes the command to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." These have never been the easiest words of Jesus to understand or follow, but coupled with Baldwin's words, I began thinking about what specifically makes an enemy. 

I almost never use the word "enemy" to describe a person, but there are people I may be angry with or distrust or find it difficult to like. How much of that anger or distrust is tied up in my judging them by who they are on their worst day and discounting the good they do? How often do I assume that the things that annoy me about a person are the "real" side of them and the good I see is just an abnormality? (Or, on the flip side, do I always assume the best about a person and ignore obvious defects?) 

Baldwin's point is that we often let that initial opinion or the most extreme fact about a person define them for us. I don't think that's anything new, but our modern social media does spread our worst moments faster and farther than ever before. The poorly phrased thing I once said to a couple people is now said on Facebook or Twitter, never to be fully erased. The stupid thing I did before a few strangers at the mall can now be seen by a million strangers on Youtube if someone happens to catch it on their phone. The writer herself makes the same point: 

"Still, everyone’s living in public, never far from a camera or a smartphone. And all our unsuccessful gestures get caught — in print, on tape, where they can stick." (Emphasis mine)

The fact is that we are all far more complicated than any one adjective or opinion. We have a wide variety of opinions, moods, and interests and no one of them -- good or bad -- defines who an individual is. (It's similar to those who take the craziest verses from the Bible and say, "See, the whole thing is a joke," but that's another post for the future.) It's easy to forget this with celebrities or others who we only know through the snippets of their lives we see on TV, but do we apply the same thinking to those we should know better? The thing is, I know people are complex (and made in the image of a complex God), but I don't always live that way. I can very often reduce people to a label like shy, super friendly, opinionated, or liberal/conservative and make assumptions (good or bad) based on that one trait.

Perhaps loving our enemies starts with choosing to look past the labels and see them as more complicated, rounded people. Perhaps it means refusing to think that the worst in a person is all that matters or that our point of biggest disagreement is the most important thing in our relationship. After all, if someone were to report on my words and actions on my worst day, I would come across as very unsympathetic. But you might also say I would appear very... human.  And that's a trait I share with friend and enemy alike.

“Your dirt removes my blindness; your pain becomes my peace.” -Jars of Clay, "Frail"