Citizenship in Heaven

/ JJS / 2 Comments

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 67; 150, Habakkuk 1:1-4 (5-11) 12-2:1, Philippians 3:13-4:1, Matthew 23:13-24

Have you ever heard someone described as a “citizen of the world?” Such people are usually considered well-traveled, sophisticated, and fluent in diverse cultures. We perceive them as feeling at home in almost any setting. Though we may sense in them a bit of restlessness, we generally admire their ease and poise.

In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, he claims their citizenship is in heaven. What does it mean to be a citizen of a place you can’t physically visit? First, we must recognize that in Paul’s Roman Empire, where slaves outnumbered citizens, the term “citizen” carried significant meaning. When Paul told people – regardless of legal class – they were citizens of heaven, he was telling them they had full rights and protections bestowed by God. Today’s strife over illegal immigration gives us only a small taste of the feelings that must have arisen – in citizens and non-citizens alike – when Paul announced all people were on equal footing under God.

What are the implications of our heavenly citizenship? Certainly it should add an element of critique to any form of nationalism; the borders of heaven are limitless, after all. How will we conduct ourselves in non-native lands, among people of different or no belief? How can we avoid becoming the Christian equivalent of the “ugly American” who treats other cultures with (one hopes) unintentional disrespect? In many physical countries, we might rely on an ambassador or embassy to coach us in diplomacy and respect. Fortunately, we have Christ as our ambassador. His example of moving among all peoples with a strength born of peace and love is our example.

One last component of citizenship is responsibility. While citizens of the world have a responsibility to comply with local laws and customs, citizens of heaven are responsible to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly (Micah 6:8), even when doing so conflicts with expectations. Simultaneously loving and confounding is quite the balancing act. We can expect that not everyone will admire or even like us. We may even be outright rejected. But our true home and Lord will never abandon us.

Comfort: No one can revoke the citizenship God grants us.

Challenge: Try composing a Christian “Bill of Rights.”

Prayer: God of the journey, thank you for my rights and responsibilities.. Amen.

Discussion: What conflicts exist between your national and divine citizenships?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!

Invitation: Election

/ JJS / 2 Comments

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So that happened.

After what is possibly the most divisive election in modern American history, the Christian family finds itself in the same boat as many families around the country: an awkward gathering around the table for the Sunday meal.

Some of us feel like we lost. Some of us feel like we won. Some of us feel like nobody won.

If you feel like you lost, and are angry at the other side, keep in mind you’d probably feel differently if you’d won. You’d be less afraid, and therefore less angry, and therefore in a more forgiving mood even though your opponents did nothing differently. Also consider the possibility that had you won, the other side would be experiencing its own fears right now. It doesn’t matter whether you believe those fears are justified; fear is not always best addressed through reason, but through compassion. Remember this moment, so that when the pendulum swings and you are no longer afraid, you will understand your opponents’ fear, and be merciful in victory.

If you feel like you won, remember that Christ teaches us having the upper hand is a burden, not a privilege. Listen to the concerns of the losing side without dismissing or mocking them. Keep in mind that had you lost, your side honestly wouldn’t behave much differently. If you snorted at that last sentence, revisit history; you won’t have to go back far. For Christians, power is not a mandate to exercise control, but a call to service. If the first are last and the last are first, you are now walking a golden tightrope. Christ calls us to do good to our enemies; that includes the ones we’ve defeated.

If you feel like nobody won, consider that you may be called to the role of peacemaker. Perhaps rather than expressing disappointment all around, promote work in areas where all Christians should agree. Visiting the sick and homebound is not a political issue. Feeding the hungry is not a political issue. Comforting those who grieve is not a political issue. Where you can, encourage those who are – for the present time – emotionally estranged to find common ground.

Christ’s table is not a political issue. We meet here because we need him the most in times like these. Come to the table willingly, and break bread with all members of the family because Christ has invited them, too. If Jesus didn’t turn away Judas, we have no excuse to turn away from each other. Sharing a meal, especially this divine one, is the both the most holy and common ground we will find.

May the Peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.

Solidarity

/ JJS / 3 Comments

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 56; 149, Joel 3:9-17, James 2:1-13, Luke 16:10-17 (18)

I don’t believe in charity. I believe in solidarity. Charity is so vertical. It goes from the top to the bottom. Solidarity is horizontal. It respects the other person. I have a lot to learn from other people.

The author of James would probably have appreciated these words from Uruguayan author Eduardo Galeano. James was very aware that people struggle to see everyone as equal without regard to social and economic status. He wrote:

For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Have a seat here, please,” while to the one who is poor you say, “Stand there,” or, “Sit at my feet,” have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?

Maybe we don’t make such distinctions on Sunday mornings, but the ever-present barriers between classes is very real. One common way to handle poverty is to push it out of sight. Many a generous soul who volunteers at a food bank or homeless center would not be keen to find one on their own block. We all like to hear a struggling neighborhood has been improved, but do we ask whether the improvements are positively impacting the people most in need, or are just forcing them away to create a new playground for the more affluent? In many ways, we are tolerant rather than inclusive. Tolerance starts from an assumption that we own social (and sometimes physical) space and have the authority to grant others permission to enter it; inclusivity assumes we all have equal right to that space and requires mutual respect and actual relationship to thrive.

Our faith communities should be places where we remove barriers and distinctions. By choosing solidarity and inclusivity over charity and tolerance, we remake part of the world in the image of the Kingdom. Whether our personal poverty is one of pocket, spirit, or status … we have a lot to learn from other people.

Comfort: All members of the Body of Christ are equal.

Challenge: Spend time with people who are different from you.

Prayer: Lord of Creation, may my heart be open to all. Amen.

Discussion: Are there any ways you are tolerant where you could become inclusive?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!

Selfieless

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 130; 148, Joel 2:28-3:8, James 1:16-27, Luke 16:1-9

Self-portraits used to involve some effort and maybe a little skill, and lot of both to take a good one. Digital cameras removed the time and expense of film processing, and the front-facing phone camera unleashed a torrent of tourists reducing the splendor of the Grand Canyon to a background for a selfie. Armed with the delete button and a battalion of photo retouching apps, we can take shot after shot and adjust them to craft just the right image to present to the world. Staged spontaneity.

James had strong opinions about appearance versus reality:

If any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act – they will be blessed in their doing.

Some people think the Book of James pushes a theology of acts over grace. For James they are inseparable because acts are the evidence that Christ dwells within us. We can talk about our faith all day long, but talk is shallow as a mirror, and creates a similar illusion of depth. When our hearts are truly committed to Christ, our actions follow, and we can’t help living out that commitment. It’s the difference between taking dozens of pictures to capture the perfect moment for public consumption, and actually living the countless imperfect moments that make a life.

Prayers and songs and scriptures are important – they are our Christian family portraits. Revisiting them should do more than remind us where we came from; it should inspire us to carry on the family legacy of doing peace and justice – “inspire” in the sense of “breathe life into” our words of faith. If we don’t direct that breath toward the real world where Christ calls us to cares for the widows and orphans, the alien and the outcast, friends and enemies, all we really do is fog the mirror.

Comfort: A heart transformed by Christ results in a transformed life.

Challenge: Seriously look at how you spend your time, and ask yourself if it reflect the faith you want to have.

Prayer: Thank you Lord for lives resurrected in Christ. Amen.

Discussion: What areas of your life need less talk and more action?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!

New Logo

/ JJS / 1 Comment

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You may notice the logo has changed up. Turns out there was another company with something very similar (for a moment I thought I was getting free advertising on the side of a truck). I’m also making a slight shift in the description of the site from “Progressive Christianity” to “Inclusive Christianity.” Draw the circle wide…

Prodigal Son of God

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 36; 147:12-20, Joel 2:21-27, James 1:1-15, Luke 15:1-2, 11-32

In The Parable of the Prodigal Son, a young man demands his inheritance from his father, then squanders it on “dissolute living” until he is forced to become a swineherd and live among the pigs – a particularly low state for a Jew. When he is reduced to hungering for the pig’s slop, he decides he must return home. He is ready to humble himself before his father, but while he is still far off, his father runs to him, embraces him, dresses him in finery, and throws a celebratory feast. His older brother is displeased, and asks why the son who lived so recklessly deserved a party, while he who had been faithful to his family got nothing. The father famously replies:

Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.

Jesus told this story because the Pharisees were complaining that he ate with tax collectors and sinners. Like the prodigal son, these people only had to take the first few steps toward Christ, and like the father he welcomed them with open arms and embraced their presence at his table. In a sense Jesus was also a prodigal son, but rather than being recklessly extravagant with his money he was scandalously generous with God’s love, much to the distress of his Pharisee brothers.

In ways large and small, we can all turn our backs on God. Maybe afterward we feel unclean, like we’ve ruined our lives and lain among the swine, and struggle to find the words that will render us acceptable again. Others may not think we deserve forgiveness, but no matter how far we have strayed, a contrite heart is all the apology God needs to not only welcome us home, but to celebrate our return.

In all of the Good News, is there any better news than a God who rushes toward us in love and forgiveness the moment we take that first step towards home?

Comfort: As soon as you come home to God, it’s like you never left.

Challenge: Call or visit someone you miss and haven’t seen in a while.

Prayer: Loving and merciful God, thank you for always being there with open arms. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever felt distant from God? Did you wonder whether you’d feel His embrace again?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!

Pain is a Four-Letter Word

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 137; 147:1-11, Joel 2:12-19, Revelation 19:11-21, Luke 15:1-10

Psalm 137 is rough. Written by Israelites in Babylonian captivity, it expresses sorrow and rage. Because their captors demand to be entertained, the psalmist asks: “How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” How demoralizing it would be to perform your songs of worship for the ironic entertainment for your oppressor.

Some mornings we feel like we have woken in an unfriendly foreign land. Oppression, real and perceived, weighs us down while the world demands perhaps not that we entertain it, but that we at least rise above our emotional and spiritual exile. Christians especially are taught and expected to be nice, as though tamping down our feelings for the comfort of others is some expression of love. Nice is not the same as good.

We need Psalm 137. We need the ugliest, most vile parts of it. When we read “Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!” we are rightly appalled, but then we probably haven’t watched our infants being slaughtered, as did the people of Israel. Who among us doesn’t have some instinct to hit back? We can do the actual hitting, or we can follow Christ and love our enemies … but the sorrow and anger don’t simply disappear. Psalm 137 was sung by a community needing to purge its pain. The words are offensive, but they are just words. Some people find offense in hip hop, in screamo, in lyrics using four-letter words decrying far worse injustices. We embrace songs about war and revenge as patriotic classics. These are the modern versions of Psalm 137. They give us release and expression of things we know we can never really do. Sometimes, to get to good, we need to abandon nice for a while.

God can withstand our anger and fear. There is catharsis in sharing and releasing it in faith with others who understand it. There is danger in not doing so, for pain guides us only to more pain. Wail when you need to. Purge with your words. Then heal with your deeds.

Comfort: Your pain is valid.

Challenge: When people use words that offend you, look behind them for a source of pain and opportunity for healing.

Prayer: God of justice, hear my cries. Amen.

Discussion: Are you comfortable expressing pain, sorrow, and/or anger? How do you do so?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!

A Love/Hate Relationship

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 123; 146, Joel 2:3-11, Revelation 19:1-10, Luke 14:25-35

Today’s word from Luke is a tough one. A large crowd was following Jesus, and he turned to them and said:

Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple […] None of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.

If he was trying to thin the crowd, that probably worked. Not only is it daunting … it’s confusing. This is the same Jesus who tells us to love our enemies – our enemies – telling us to hate our loved ones. Who is going to sign up for that?

Fortunately, we have plenty of examples where Jesus used exaggeration to make a point, so we can take a step back to get some perspective. If we are going to claim to be disciples – that is, students and followers – of Christ, every other priority must place a distant second; a matchstick behind a bonfire; a puddle beside the ocean.

Discipleship has a cost. In a predominantly Christian culture, the need to pay that cost may feel far less urgent than in Jesus’s time, or in other cultures. If we want to, we can live our lives in almost exclusively Christian circles. But there’s a difference between following Christ and following Christians. Christ came for the sick, not the well, so to follow him we must often travel outside our safe spaces. Many fellow Christians aren’t going to want you to go. They may discourage you out of concern for your safety, or possibly because they don’t want to be reminded they aren’t paid up. And when that’s the case, we may have to leave them behind.

Whatever the cost, following Christ means following truth and love. We are called to shed the people and things that keep us from taking that journey. At the end, we won’t need the things, and we will come full circle to love the people again in a better way.

Comfort: Wherever Christ leads you, he will be there with you.

Challenge: Make a list of things you need to let go of to better follow Christ. Which one can you let go of this month?

Prayer: Merciful God, grant me the strength to be a true and faithful disciple of Christ. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever felt relief from letting go of something – a relationship, a possession, a feeling? If so, what was it?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!

Showing Up

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 135; 145, Joel 1:15-2:2, Revelation 18:15-24, Luke 14:12-24

It’s no secret that Jesus was fed up with the priestly class, but he didn’t dismiss them out of hand. He was present in the synagogues, and each time they challenged him he gave them an opportunity to hear him and accept him as messiah (though he was careful about using that word). How frustrating must it have been for him when, time and time again, they not only rejected him but remained willfully deaf to his invitation to repent and truly serve God and God’s people?

He told a parable about a man who threw a great dinner and invited many people. Each of the invitees had an excuse for not attending: I just bought some property; I’m a newlywed; I have new oxen to test-drive. The host was very angry, and sent his servants to “bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.” These new banquet guests were the inheritors of the kingdom, and no one who was invited got to taste a bite.

Why do we cater to the people who never show up? Many a church exerts so much energy on attracting new people (or “giving units”) that it has little left for the needs of the faithful regulars. Hours are wasted on figuring out how to placate those dedicated (but affluent) malcontents who always seem to have one foot out the door because of one imagined slight or another, instead of asking engaged people why they stay and what they need. The poor, the blind, the lame; they aren’t merely the beneficiaries of the church – they are the church. We are the church. Every one of us is in need. There’s nothing we have to offer God that is not already God’s, so when any of us shows up, it’s with hat in hand, starving for grace. Any other posture is a rejection of the invitation. Let yourself be dragged into the banquet.

If you reject Christ’s invitation because the church is too hypocritical, judgmental, or old-fashioned, you just might be missing the opportunity to fill the seat that will change it.

Comfort: Church doesn’t exist for its leadership, but for its people.

Challenge: Are you showing up? Think about ways you might be rejecting the invitation.

Prayer: Thank you, loving God, for the invitation to life in your kingdom. I am grateful for it and accept it anew every day. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever been disappointed by a poor turnout?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!

Speaking of gifts…

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 19; 150, Joel 1:1-13, 1 Corinthians 14:1-12, Matthew 20:1-16

Paul encouraged followers or Christ to seek and develop what he called Gifts of the Spirit. These were abilities granted by the Holy Spirit and meant to be used for the benefit of the church. Such gifts included, among other things, the abilities to prophesy and to speak in tongues. To prophesy in this sense was not to predict the future, but to “speak to other people for their upbuilding and encouragement and consolation.” Speaking in tongues was speaking a language, either earthly or divine, that was not known to the speaker.

Not surprisingly, even though there was no need or directive to do so, people wanted to rank these gifts, and also looked more favorably on Christians who demonstrated them. Speaking in tongues seemed to be very common, possibly because – let’s be honest – it’s relatively easy to fake. Paul didn’t level this accusation against anyone, but he did tell them he’d rather see them strive for prophesy. While speaking in tongues might have been flashy and dramatic, in few cases did it have any real, positive impact on the life of the church.

Whatever gifts we have – whether the specific spiritual gifts listed by Paul in his letters, or the more mundane gifts granted us at birth or through study – we are meant to steward them well in service to the kingdom. The most immediately impressive ones, like strong leadership or inspirational preaching, are rare for a reason: we don’t need that many people to do them. Many Christians think seeking a purpose through ministry means they should be the face of a unique calling – but Jesus tells us the first are last and the last are first. Being in the trenches with other people who share a common gift is not a sign of insignificance, but of value. Rebuilding homes for the victims of disaster, preparing meals for grieving families, and visiting the sick in hospitals are the work of the kingdom; making a name for ourselves is not.

We don’t value what comes easily to us, but it may be gold to someone who doesn’t have it.

Comfort: Your gifts are valuable.

Challenge: When considering how to use your gifts, start by finding where they are lacking elsewhere.

Prayer: Thank you, generous God, for the for the many gifts you have given your people. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever been surprised that something you could do, which seemed unimportant to you, was important to someone else?

Join the discussion! If you enjoyed this post, feel free to join an extended discussion as part of the C+C Facebook group or follow @comf_and_chall on Twitter. You’ll  have the opportunity to share your thoughts with some lovely people. Or feel free to comment here on WordPress, or even re-blog – the more the merrier!