Living in the grey: Are you wrestling or just lazy?

When I find myself deeply pondering an issue, whether in prayer or in silent thought at my desk, I tend to poke holes in both poles of opinion until I find the place where I can faithfully stand. This comes out perhaps most evidently in sermon-form. I tend to find myself pointing out one opinion and then an opposing one before often coming to the conclusion that neither of these work particularly well. This works with most contentious subjects because, well, there's a reason they are contentious. But I'm writing today to make clear that I hope I am cautious with this approach, because lately I have found many people who celebrate simply living in the "grey." They seem to enjoy existing between the black and the white for the sake of not being black or white; not necessarily because they have spent any reasonable amount of time or energy in prayer, meditation, or thought to come to the hypothesis that there is the most faithful place for them to be.

Five-Thirty-Eight recently ran a piece claiming that "Americans Aren't Becoming More Politically Independent, They Just Like Saying They Are" and I think the same is true of many things, especially concerning questions of faith. There are many people in the mainline church who really like the "grey." They really like pointing out the arrogance of standing at the poles, but then they don't offer a serious alternative. Living in the questions sounds great, but most people who successfully live in the questions already have a strong base of history and tradition on which to stand (here I'm thinking about my Jewish friends who participate in the serious practice of midrash). This is a very challenging place to be and to do so absentmindedly is folly. To merely state that a person is free to believe whatever they want is fine, but I'm always going to pay closer attention to the person who has struggled deeply with the questions than the one who has decided on a whim. Those who try to stay in the no man's land between polar sides of an issue are forced out when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, because to truly live in tension is to constantly question--not just the black and the white but also yourself.

Are you in this just to not take a side? Do you really believe anything?

I tend to find that living in that tension only works, especially as a religious person, when those grey areas are resolved with a promise that I believe in strongly. Again, this is why midrash works--it's done by those who are already deeply woven into the faith. I wouldn't recommend people blindly question every side unless you already understand a little of what it is that makes you who you are. This may sound backward, but it is merely to say that you aren't going to find your faith through questioning but questioning may deepen a faith that you already have. (And it leads to a wonderful question of where faith originates, which is well beyond the scope of this post, though I'd point you to Ephesians 2:8 as a starting point)

This is no exhortation to move from the middle ground to a position on one of the poles, and it's no suggestion that we need more out-spoken conservatives or liberals, or true believers of any sort. Rather, it's simply to point out that to say you enjoy living "in the grey" does not mean you are off the hook for careful and thoughtful reflection; in fact, I would say that much more is expected of you. It's one thing to be agnostic; it's another to be an agnostic Christian. The first I find potentially interesting; the second I find lazy.

Blessed are the meek: Another reason God doesn't care who wins the Super Bowl

Matthew 5:1-20

Russell Wilson, the quarterback for the Seattle Seahawks, created a minor stir this week—nothing as serious as deflated footballs, mind you, but a minor stir nonetheless—when he said that God prepared his team to win, that God wanted him to go back to the Super Bowl, and that this is “my season for Grace & Favor.” This is about as normal as sports clichés get, but, given our focus on the Beatitudes this week, I felt like maybe it’s the perfect intro into blessing.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the hungry and thirsty, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted and the reviled. That’s a pretty long way from “Blessed are the Seahawks.”

For those of you who attended the event at Maria on Wednesday where Ben Hylden spoke about his experience I’m going to expand on some of the themes he talked about, but you should all know a little of the story. Ben was a high-schooler who was an athlete first, and a family member and Christian far after that, until a terrible accident and the repercussions of it pushed his life in an entirely different direction. One of the moments that hit me in his talk was when he decided he was done playing basketball, which was a decision he made not because he absolutely could not play anymore but because it just wasn’t worth the risk. He felt that God did not save him from his accident to play basketball, but for something much better.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with giving God credit for what we have or what we achieve, but there is a subtle line between doing that out of humility and doing it out of a different kind of arrogance—a Christian kind of arrogance that transforms the language of “I did this because I’m great” into “I did this because of my great faith”—and Russell Wilson’s comments probably strayed somewhere in that latter direction. So people rightly bristled. It’s a question of humility. To be humble requires more than giving God credit with your words, since that can be just as arrogant as claiming credit yourself. To imply that God blessed me because of my faith and because of my hard work is a humble brag par excellence.

If Christ is risen, nothing else matters. And if Christ is not risen--nothing else matters.

Matthew 4:1-17

“If Christ is risen, nothing else matters. And if Christ is not risen—nothing else matters.” - Jaroslav Pelikan.

            I had someone come up to me this week with an article and wanted my opinion of it. First off, I should say that these requests are always very difficult because A) I don’t know everything, B) I usually need a good deal of time to think about new ideas, and C) if it’s an article that’s gotten a lot of attention it’s usually because it’s particularly brazen, because, in this age, brazen will get you attention. Everybody and their mother is writing a blog these days; what gets hits is being brazen, attacking particularly people or views; doing the kind of thing that I, personally, don’t want to respond to at all.

            So, anyway, this particular article was written by a group called “Jews for Judaism” and it is entitled, “Why Jesus is NOT the Jewish Messiah.” This requires a lot of context. First, this is a group who is writing against “Jews for Jesus” which is another, sort-of-kind-of Jewish but also sort-of-kind-of Christian group. They are writing against this group because Jews for Jesus likes to proselytize Jews—meaning they like to go around and tell Jews they should essentially become Christians. So, naturally, “Jews for Judaism” doesn’t much care for that. Secondly, this article is obviously not representative of all of Judaism anymore than something that I write is representative of all Christians. There are plenty of Christians who would openly disagree with much of what I say. We have a big tent. It’s the same with Judaism. In fact, their tent might be even bigger than ours because they have ethnic components as well as religious. So, this article does not mean all, or even most, or even many, Jewish people feel this way. It’s one stance in response to another.

            OK, have I done enough couching of what I’m about to say? Probably not but let’s go for it anyway.

Excerpts from a Confirmation midterm

The following are excerpts from the midterms of our 9th grade Confirmation students. They were required to write essays in 20 minutes on one of three topics. Every one of them happened to write on the question, "What does being Lutheran mean to me?"

I hope you find all of this a dose of hope for the future, wherever this finds you today.

Excerpts:
"That's what I think is special about the Lutheran faith: No matter how many times you ignore the sermon, or sin, or do anything bad, the church is there and lifts you up from your sins and your despair."

"To me I see the church as a family and not a building, a family that picks you up when you're down and cheers you up when you're sad. In my opinion being a Lutheran means you are part of one big, ginormous, loving and caring family. And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"I think I'm a Lutheran because of my mom when my great-grandma passed away, she said she's in a better place."

"Martin Luther, in my eyes, is a courageous, remarkable individual who saw a problem and fixed it. I believe he defines what we are as an individual, group, and ultimately a religion. Martin Luther was not perfect... I'm not perfect, nor are you or anyone else. But being a Lutheran makes me feel as if no one's perfect but we can strive toward the one who is. Jesus also saw a problem in humanity and fixed it by paying a debt he did not owe."

"I believe we as Lutherans are special and unique because we simply do not care what others think."

"This buzz of joyfulness, happiness, and just all around love is what being a Lutheran means to me."

"The music! Most churches nowadays are slowly turning into places of musical atrocity. Churches are slowly incorporating 21st century music into their services... while Lutherans remain faithful to the classic hymns."
Note: I added this one because I find hilarious, but I hope we can agree there is also some good, faithful 21st century music... or maybe not :-)

"Being a Lutheran means a lot to me because of our Scandinavian culture, the type of music we sing, and the fellowship we have."

"Lutherans can be literally anybody. You don't have to be a certain race or gender to be a Lutheran."

"I feel like this church is the place for me because it is okay to be different at our church. You can have your own beliefs or share the same beliefs as others."

John the Baptist makes Lutherans nervous

Matthew 3:1-17

Whenever John the Baptist and Jesus share the stage in the Gospels it demands our attention because nobody is as brash and straightforward as John, and nobody matters as much as John when it comes to setting the record straight about who Jesus is. But John is also—how shall I put this?—not very nice, and, being the Minnesota-nice people that we are, we aren’t very sure what to do with a person like that.

For one thing, John didn’t understand hospitality. If you’re likely to lash out and call people a “brood of vipers” then perhaps you shouldn’t be a church greeter; instead you might fit in better volunteering at Confirmation. And it’s worth noting that this is what John says to the ones who actually showed up. You can imagine what he thought of those who didn’t even bother. Then he hits the Pharisees and the Sadducees where it really hurts, questioning the importance of their lineage. This is the kind of thing that really doesn’t play well in small towns, which is why I’m not so naïve as to tell you that your history doesn’t give you any special standing; I’m just going to reread verse 9, “Do not presume to say to yourselves, "We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham,” and I’m just going to leave that there to do with what you might.

Exhausted

Sometimes the title just says it all. I'm pooped. Spent. Over it. Run down.

And it's all sorts of things.

It's having a ten month old. Sure... but not really.
It's pastoring. Sure... but not only.
It's the cold, dark winter days. Yeah... but only partly.
It's getting over sickness in the house. Yep... but so is everybody.
It's staying fit. Definitely, but that's as much gift as burden.
It's eating poorly. Right... but is that cause, effect, or both?
It's other peoples' faults. Yeah, if only there weren't people to cause stress.
It's my fault. Yeah, if only I didn't cause stress for other people.

It's all those things and a hundred others.

I could list the things that are leaving me exhausted (Lord knows I have to many people close to me), but it doesn't change it. It just ends with me trying to justify myself by all the things I'm doing. Yay. Look at me! And that usually ends with me feeling terrible for all the things I'm not doing. Boo. Look away!

Herod's death meet Jesus' new life

Matthew 2:12-23

This is really not appropriate Christmas scripture. I’m sorry. I don’t know what Matthew was thinking. I don’t know why he didn’t understand that Christmas is a time for happiness, a time to talk about the good things, to share memories, and, above all, to relax and be comfortable. Matthew shows that he is out of touch with the Christmas season by sharing this unsavory story of Herod killing the children of Judea, the children of his own kingdom. No. Matthew doesn’t get it. That’s not what Christmas is about.

It’s just unfortunate that Matthew needs to be so… so… real.

…

Then again, I suppose it is only a real world that needs to be saved. Matthew picks up the words of Jeremiah, referring even further back to Rachel in the book of Genesis, saying, “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” If Rachel is this model figure for the grief of incomprehensible loss, then it’s interesting to note that Rachel is not told to pick herself up by her bootstraps, to get over her loss, and to start living her best life now. She isn’t told it’s going to be alright, or is somebody does tell her that she certainly doesn’t believe it. She refused to be consoled. And Matthew seems to be suggesting, along with Jeremiah before him, that this is the appropriate reaction to senseless loss.

What kind of Christmas story is this?