Christmas Contrast

Karl reached for his fourth sugar packet, a furtive stretch while Kerry was giving their order to the waitress. Having snatched a packet and he slowly moved his hand under the table. Out of her watchful sight he tore the top off the packet, waiting for an opportune time to add it to his cup. They were eating at Russ’s. Again. While his wife chatted amiably with the young waitress he chanced it and quickly poured the sugar into his coffee. As if the added sugar could sweeten his sour mood.

When she had ordered their dinner Kerry turned back to her husband. She noticed the empty sugar packet tucked under his plate but said nothing. She might mention it when he complained about gaining weight over the holidays. But it was Christmas, and he was her husband, and she loved him.

“Karl, I don’t know why you are so upset about this. People have a right to believe or not believe whatever they want.”

“He just ticks me off, that’s all I’m saying.” Karl stirred his coffee as he spoke, a frost of vanilla creamer swirling in the cup. “Every year he sits out on the Christmas party. Every year he refuses to be part of the gift giving. Every year he gives his little speech on how not everyone believes in Christmas, how we have to be respectful of other people’s points of view.”

Kerri could see he was getting cranky, but she spoke anyways.

“Well, people do have the right to believe what they want, and we should be respectful of their beliefs. He seems to be OK with you believing.

“Oh, I’m respectful,” Karl replied. “If he wants to be an idiot and not believe in Christmas, I can respect that.”

Karl could feel the anger rising in him. He stirred his coffee harder, sloshing it over the side and onto the table. His blood pressure must be up again. Try as he might he just could not understand it; Silas was a normal guy, how could he not believe in Christmas? If he was Jewish or Muslim or something maybe it would make sense, but he said he just wasn’t religious.

Christmas carols played on the overhead speakers. The waitresses wore Santa hats and had Christmas pins on their blouses. Christmas lights were strung throughout the restaurant and a beautifully decorated tree stood in the foyer. The mood of the others in the restaurant reflected a general feeling of good will among men.

Night came early and Silas settled back in his easy chair. He hit the menu button and scrolled past all the Christmas specials and programs. He finally came across a Discovery Channel special on the origin of the universe. He was always fascinated with these types of programs. A bowl of soup and a chicken salad sandwich balanced precariously on a tray on his lap as he settled in to watch. He had picked up a couple of packs of those Christmas Jingles cookies. They were 50% off at the Market around the corner. He planned to have a couple for dessert later that night. That would be the closest he would come to celebrating Christmas.

Karl checked the bill to make sure the amounts were right. Not bad, $16.50 for the two of them.

“Kerri, what’s 15% of $16.50?”

She smiled at him. She knew he was horrible at math, and notoriously cheap.
“Five dollars.”

Karl flinched momentarily, his wallet open. “Seems like a lot. You sure?”
“Yes, Karl, I am sure.”

Karl reluctantly left a $5.00 bill on the table and left to pay the bill. Kerri caught up with him by the register. When he turned to put the change into his pocket she stopped him and pointed to the small canister on the counter. He dropped the coins in the canister and pocketed the bills. Without hesitation she reached into his pocket, pulled out the remaining $3.00 and slipped the bills into the canister.

Silas watched the special, noting the beauty of the pictures and the strength of the theory. He was amazed at minds that could make sense of the complexity, could help understand how such order came about after such a massive explosion like the Big Bang. Having finished dinner he made some tea, then listened to NPR while he nibbled on his Jingle cookies. One good thing about Christmas; he got good cookies. Snow fell softly outside his window. Colorful lights from the neighbor’s house illuminated the banks of snow in his back yard. The quiet and beauty of the night calmed him.

They drove home, their favorite Christmas CD in the player. Kerri snuggled up close, her hand in Karl’s. She quietly hummed along with the music. Snow was falling in soft, wispy flakes. Colorful stockings outlined in white lights hung from each telephone pole along the road. The quiet and beauty of the night calmed even Karl’s sour mood. Don’t believe in Christmas; too bad for Silas. He didn’t know what he was missing. Tomorrow morning they would go to church and listen to the Christmas story. That afternoon the kids and grandkids would stop by. He loved to watch the grandkids eyes as they opened their presents. Karl was notoriously cheap (frugal, he liked to say) but not when it came to the grandkids. Their wish was his command.

Silas read a chapter in his book before getting ready for bed. After a shower and a good tooth-brushing he headed off to bed. Visions of exploding stars and swirling galaxies filled his head as he drifted off to sleep.

Tomorrow was Saturday.

Arriving home Karl and Kerri watched a little TV. Its A Wonderful Life was on again and they sat on the couch together to watch. When the movie was over the switched off the TV and headed to bed. Kerri put on the nightgown she had bought for herself, elegant and soft, and surprised Karl with a kiss in the hall as he headed to the bedrooms. Karl had visions in his head, and they were of more than sugarplums as he followed her into the bedroom. He left the Christmas tree lit so it would greet them the following morning.

Tomorrow was Christmas day.

UnChurch

I just finished the book UnChristian, following Pagan Christianity a few months ago, and I wonder, can church as I know it ever reach the Busters and Mosaics?

What would that church have to look like? What would be core values?

To battle the perception of the church as antihomosexual a core value would have to be not accepting or rejecting a person due to their sexual orientation. The church would have to be a community that opens it's arms to everyone, understanding that we are all in different places in our faith journey, and providing opportunities for everyone to use their gifts in loving obedience to God.

To battle the perception that the church is judgemental a core value would have to be the ability to accept everyone, working to develop vibrant personal relationships between all of its' members. It's ministries would have to be intentionally multi-generational, fostering relationships between all ages, races, and genders.

To battle the perception that the church is hypocritical a core value would have to be honesty and integrity, modeled in leadership, reinforced in teaching, and expected of everyone. Members would have to be willing to hold themselves accountable to each other.

It would have to be unlike any church I've been to, willing to lay down what it has always seen as "church" in the interest of reaching those for whom Church is a dirty word.

I wonder what it would look like. Would there be sermons, homilies, teaching times, shared teaching? Would there be sacraments, and if so, which and how? Singing? Band? Internet, videos, powerpoint? Where would it meet, a home, a public building, a coffee shop, a sanctuary?

The challenge is huge and somwhate frightening and exciting and stimulating, the goal to create an UnChurch to battle the UnChristian label. And yet if what Kinnaman and Lyons have learned is true, do we truly have a choice?

And Hope Will Never Disappoint

I live in the great state of Michigan, a state where the economic emergency is having it's full affect. It's difficult to read the news every day, wondering if it will all collapse. Are we heading for another depression?

It's New Years Day and Israel and Gaza are lobbing bombs back and forth at each other. The TV shows tanks lined up, ready for an oncoming invasion. Neither side is backing down. Will there be no peace?

AIDS has gone from being a gay disease to an epidemic that is wiping out fathers and mothers from millions of children if Africa. With all of the advance in medicine can't we end this epidemic?

Our young people are leaving the church in droves, finding it irrelevant or unable to satisfy their desire for freedom. Truth is a relevant thing, not a given. Are our children really destined to repeat every mistake we've ever made?

It's enough to drive a man to despair. Yet it's the words of a guy named Paul that bring us light in this darkness. In a letter to the church in Rome he wrote "Suffering produces character, and character perseverance, and perseverance, hope. And hope does not disappoint."

May those be the words of your New Years resolution. Always hope, never be disappointed. Let that hope lead you into the new year in 2009.

Jesus for President, or, is the Bible Hard to Understand?

I am reading Jesus for President by Shane Clairborne and Chris Haw. I can't say I am really enjoying it, but I am reading it. In my reading I stumbled across something that makes me wonder, how difficult is it to really understand the Bible?

The authors revisit a story told by Jesus, one that you probably heard if you've spent time reading the Gospels. Jesus is talking about our response to our enemies. Broken down, it looks like this:
If your enemy slaps you on the left cheek, turn your right to him to be slapped.
If your enemy takes your outer garments, give him your underwear, too.
If your enemy forces you to walk a mile with him, walk and extra mile.

Clairborne and Haw lean towards an insight from Walter Wink on this passage. Wink looks deeper into the Jewish background and history of the time this passage was written. His deeper insight looks like this:
If your enemy slaps you on the left cheek, turn your right cheek to him, also. In doing so he will have to look you straight in the eye if he is to slap you. You no longer assume a pose of a humiliated slave; you say to him "I am on the same level as you, are you really going to slap me?"
If your enemy takes your outer garments, give him your underwear, too. When the two of you stand before the magistrate to settle your debt, you will be naked. This will shame your enemy, that he would take what you have and leave you naked.
If your enemy, probably a Roman soldier, compels you to walk a mile with him, carrying his equipment, walk an extra mile. To be seen in the company of a Jew will bring insult to the Roman soldier, stepping beyond the law that allows him to command you to carry his gear.

There's little doubt that Wink's insights add depth to the passage. And I don't question them; he's done a lot more exegetical and historical research than I have ever done. But is it too much? Couldn't the passage stand as a powerful response to our enemies, just as it is? Clairborne and Haw take it further, pointing out that the enemy is most likely the Roman soldiers and citizens, and again, probably very likely it could. But the speech isn't directed toward the Roman government. It's not the speech of an insurrectionist or political motivator.

All of the responses in Wink's interpretation seem to turn the table, raising the oppressed, offering a passive form of resistance. This passive resistance then becomes a basis for a Christian philosophy of non-violent resistance. Again, probably so. But what type of passive resistance is it when a man let's himself be tried in a fixed trial and murdered by crucifixion? Martyrdom?

But I think it is more likely that Jesus is teaching a simple lesson to a simple people. You call your enemy out by offering him the most unlikely of responses:
If your enemy strikes you he expects you to strike back. Turning the other cheek makes him think about his actions and motivations, perhaps making him realize what he has done.
If your enemy takes your cloak he expects you to either wrestle it back or try to get it back through the justice system. Offering your underwear is bound to throw him for a loop.
If your enemy compels you to carry his stuff a mile, go two. Perhaps your extra help will open a conversation or relationship with him that will break down the walls that separate the two of you.

I'm not arguing that we shouldn't look deeply at these historical and cultural views in understanding the Bible, but we should be careful when the meaning seems fairly clear that we are not reading too much. I can't imagine all these things passed through Jesus mind; instead he was reacting as the grace-filled Son of God.

Psalm 23

A Modern translation of Psalm 23, written shortly after I learned the transmission in my car will cost $1,200 to replace:

The Lord is my auto repair man;
I’m not worried about my car.
He steers me onto smooth pavement;
He makes sure my muffler is secure.
He fills my gas tank completely.
His GPS leads me where I have to go,
To the right places in my life,
The places that give Him glory.
Even though I walk through a valley of broken gears
It does not scare me.
For You are my Mechanic.
Your wrench and your socket comfort me.
You repair a transmission before me
Regardless of my doubts.
You pour gear oil over my head;
My fluid levels are full.
Surely smooth shifting and good mileage
Will be mine from now on.
And some day I’ll park this Neon
And walk on holy ground
Forever.

Lessons

So, I cancel our Genia Small Group for Thursday night because of stress from personal and work situations. Seems like the right thing to do, take a little time to gather myself together, relax with my family, a little devotional time. Then someone asks me one of those questions you just can’t ignore, the kind of question that sticks in your brain and in your heart and in your soul. The question was “doesn’t it seem to make more sense that we do get together and pray about these things?”

The answer, of course, is yes. I resisted, yet I knew then and know now that the answer to this question should always be yes. And truthfully most of the time we just don’t do it.

Look at my statement above; I needed to take some time for me to gather myself together.

When push comes to shove, spiritually and emotionally, most often I do everything in my power to fix it myself, and when that fails (as it often does), and only when all that fails, do I turn to God.

If the definition of sin is that we miss the mark, that there is truly something wrong with us, then this desire to solve it all myself is an obvious sign of sin.

We are all sinners, and of them I am often the worst. I know now what the Apostle Paul was talking about. And it's not a case of poor self-image; it's a case of understanding what a mess sin has made of everything, including us.

Pray. Pray bodly, pray loudly, shoot up arrow prayers, pray in desperation, pray Scripture, intercede, petition. But pray.

Lesson learned. At least for now.