Sunday, November 6, 2016

The Christian Manifesto



sermon preached at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Bellingham, WA
by the Rev. Josh Hosler, Associate Priest for Adult Formation
All Saints Sunday, November 6, 2016

When Christians are baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and when we are sealed with oil in the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever, a new journey has begun. The baptized person is a resurrected person, dead to separation from God and truly alive in Christ, a child of God and an inheritor of redemption and great joy.

So how is your baptism going? It’s not just an abstract idea, a social status or a nice thing that happened once. Christianity is not an app, but an operating system. Our baptism puts God to work in us in the real world—in our inner lives, and also in all our interactions with each other. Our job as baptized people is to receive God’s love and to reflect it. But how do we do this?

Right now we’re in the midst of a four-week Wednesday night class at St. Paul’s called Faith and Politics. In our first week, we outlined assumptions and ground rules to help us to safely explore the intersection of these two topics. Last Wednesday we looked at the interplay of faith and politics throughout the Bible. Our holy scriptures are chock full of politics, featuring politically powerful people from Joseph to Moses to Deborah to David to Solomon to Josiah to Belshazzar to Daniel to Cyrus to Esther to Herod to Pontius Pilate to Nero. Today’s psalm is a patriotic, if saber-rattling, ode to God as the true king above all nations. Our reading from the letter to the Ephesians places Christ “far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named.”

Some say that the church should stay out of politics. Others say the church belongs squarely in the realm of politics. I’d like to attempt to make peace about this by asserting that Jesus Christ is both political and beyond political—both earthly and transcendent—as we see in Luke’s Gospel. This series of sayings of Jesus we just heard are named from the Latin as the Beatitudes, because of the refrain, “Blessed are you.” Here we cannot avoid experiencing Jesus as a political figure. This is especially true the more we learn about Jesus’ political context, in which the Jews lived under Roman occupation, and different Jewish “political parties” held different assumptions about the best way to handle the occupation.

Jesus settled for none of the common party platforms. He didn’t want to overthrow the Romans in a bloody revolution, but neither would he make peace with oppression. He wouldn’t retreat into the desert to escape the Romans, but neither would he merely keep his head down and follow the rules. Jesus showed us that none of these approaches holds the path to abundant life. Instead, he started a new movement on the assumption that God is actually the ruler of the world right now. For the Jesus Movement, the Beatitudes are our Declaration of Interdependence—our Christian Manifesto.

Depending on how you look at them, the Beatitudes can seem either naïve or threatening. They point beyond our daily grind to the world as it should be, and they invite us to choose to live in that ideal world. They make clear that violence is not a virtue for us, but neither is victimhood. President Obama once referred to the Beatitudes as “a passage that is so radical that it’s doubtful that our own Defense Department would survive its application.”[1]

Jesus did not place his faith in government to protect us from harm, but in God, who offers us joyful life in spite of any harm that may come. Christians count on God’s involvement in the world, not as a nice ideal but as an actual person who is a force for change. Jesus asks us to trust, way beyond our comfort zone, that God is in charge through death and beyond. Jesus was killed for his political nonconformity. But because of Jesus’ Resurrection, which we see as the blueprint of all creation, we pledge our allegiance to Jesus Christ, the icon of the invisible God and a revealing of God’s very self.

It’s easy enough to understand Jesus as a political figure in his own time and place, but can you see Christ as a political figure in our time? Look beneath the Civil Rights Movement in America, Liberation Theology in Central America, and South Africa’s Truth & Reconciliation Commission. Look to Standing Rock, North Dakota this week, where hundreds of clergy gathered with the protesters and celebrated Holy Eucharist. You will find the Beatitudes at work. The Beatitudes stand against oppression, to be sure, but they also stand against any political system that we might place above Christ. Christianity is about freedom, yes, but not freedom for the sake of capitalism, or socialism, or libertarianism.

Among Jesus’ followers were upstanding citizens and prostitutes, blue-collar workers and wealthy benefactors, freedom fighters and blood traitors. Likewise, the Jesus Movement today aligns with no party affiliation, no economic school of thought, no political entity, and no school of conventional wisdom. It exists as a society within whatever other societies we may be a part of. This kind of talk might make us nervous—maybe it should. But if we truly follow Christ above all political figures, we need to have some understanding of what that means.

First of all, I think it means that regardless of how you choose to vote, and no matter what happens on Election Day, there is ample cause for hope. Why? Because our call as Christians is always clear. The political cause of Christians is to reflect God’s love, mercy, and forgiveness—to live generously because of these things, and to inspire others to do so as well. The political opponents of the Jesus Movement are those who work against love, mercy, and forgiveness. If that sounds sufficiently vague yet black-and-white at the same time, well, it is. We will keep learning all our lives how to love and how to live generously. We fail again and again. We experience forgiveness again and again, and we keep going.

Second, we must never attempt to stay in a black-and-white place by dividing the world into allies and enemies. We frequently act in both roles, depending on how well we are aligning ourselves with love. Our aim is not to vilify our political opponents or our sworn enemies: we love them and remain patient with them. And we strive to remain patient with those underdeveloped or unhealed parts of ourselves that make reconciliation difficult to offer or to accept.

When people see Christians as good, it should not be because we live perfectly or “correctly,” but because we live wholeheartedly. We make a perpetual practice of giving our money, our time, and our energy to help others. Our aim is to give even when our doubt begins to overwhelm our trust. We give because giving is a clear way of demonstrating God’s love at work in us.

When people see Christians as threatening, it should not be because we are violent, but because we will not yield the cause of love. It is in this spirit that Jesus parallels every “Blessed to you” with a “Woe to you.” Jesus holds us accountable! For the Christian, being rich and full and laughing and respected can never be the goal and may even reveal the ways we fall short. So we are never perfect, but we are always forgiven. We cannot redeem ourselves, but we can respond to God’s redemption of us with love, intent on becoming better people for the sake of everyone else in the world, but always standing ready to accept forgiveness yet again. This is the heart of Christian maturity.

We do take political stands in the world, not because we believe any government is our savior, but because we march under the banner of love and want to see it advance. Acting out of the Beatitudes and our Baptismal Covenant, we feed the hungry, house the homeless, teach the children, welcome the stranger, ensure people’s God-given dignity and rights. We do this work both with and without the help of our government. We understand that freedom is not an excuse for selfish living. Freedom is a condition of having real choices in life, something that isn’t possible when our basic needs are not being met. And because we want to ensure such freedom not just for ourselves, but also for those to whom freedom is routinely denied, Christians work for social justice.

The term “social justice” has taken a beating in recent years in some political circles, but I refuse to let it go. The passion for justice fueled the law, the prophets, and Jesus himself. In 1986, the United States Catholic Bishops defined social justice in this way: All people must have [at least] the minimum conditions necessary to participate in society. I think this is a good, basic definition that gives clear direction to Christians’ participation in politics. Our 1979 Book of Common Prayer gives us a prayer specifically for social justice:

Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit may so move every human heart [and especially the hearts of the people of this land], that barriers which divide us may crumble, suspicions disappear, and hatreds cease; that our divisions being healed, we may live in justice and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.[2]

Social justice means reflecting God’s love to all others in society. Now, our chosen political alignments are complicated, and I don’t care who you are—none of us benefits from seeing the full picture. So we will arrive at different conclusions about the best ways for our society to move toward social justice. But Christians trust that God will love us through it all. We pray, and then we act based on what we understand. We pursue social justice every time we stand in solidarity with—and honor the dignity of—the poor, the hungry, the grieving, the excluded, and the reviled.

Today we celebrate the Feast of All Saints. The saints are all the members of the Jesus Movement who have gone before us, and through our baptism, we began to join their vast number. So how is your baptism going? Are you moving in the direction of Christian maturity? Are you relying on others to help you? What role does your vote play in revealing and reflecting God’s love to the world?
O Canada! We're only a few minutes' drive from you
in Bellingham, but don't expect us for dinner
Wednesday night. We have plenty to do here.
(Source: Pixabay)
Remember that God and God alone is the instigator of your redemption, the giver of revelation, and that God started this process in all of us through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Christ is the ruler; no earthly rulers are worthy of our devotion. This is important just before the election. None of us needs to run away to Canada next week! Why? Because there is no place or time where Jesus is not Lord. And in response to Christ’s redeeming love, we ourselves have loving work to do. Rejoice!

[2] The Book of Common Prayer, p. 823.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Faith and Politics in the Bible

As I was preparing for the second week of our four-week class at St. Paul's called "Faith and Politics," I came across this article. Its references to the political nature of Jesus' life and ministry were helpful as I faced the daunting task of giving an overview of the interactions between faith and politics in the entire Bible and church history ... to be presented in an hour and fifteen minutes!

Politics is about how we as a society decide to order our common life. Not surprisingly, when we look at political situations in the Bible, the tension is mostly about matters of justice. In seminary we studied different types of justice:

  • Distributive justice: How do all people get what they need and make use of the benefits of society? How can we ensure that people share the necessary burdens? Who will have certain opportunities, and who won’t, and why?
  • Commutative justice: How do we exchange, interact, buy and sell, come to agreements? What is the right ordering for fair exchange?
  • Retributive justice: How and why do we punish? What is fair in punishing those who violate the norms of society?
  • Restorative justice: How can we restore violators to full participation in society?
Together we took a quick jaunt through the Bible, reading selected stories about politics, faith, and justice.

The Torah was the Constitution of the Ancient Hebrews. It laid out the laws for society and the procedures for politics. But in the desert, before Moses even received the Law at Mt. Sinai, Moses’ father-in-law advised him to create a system of political leaders so that he wouldn’t wear himself out. Read Exodus 18:13-27. What kinds of justice are being assured here?

After conquering the Promised Land in a political conquest, the Hebrews set up a system of judges for themselves. This system didn’t work very well, as the entire Book of Judges demonstrates. Eventually the people clamored for a king. Read 1 Samuel 8:4-22. What kinds of justice are being requested here? How did this work for them? If you were to recast Samuel's speech to a present-day audience, what political phrases and concepts would you use?

During the glory days of the kingdom of Israel, David had an affair with Bathsheba, and the Prophet Nathan called him out on it. Prophets were a recognized profession in Israel and Judah; Nathan is one of the earliest. They could be seen as the “loyal opposition,” and the degree of acceptance of them depended on how willing were those in power to learn and grow. Read 2 Samuel 11:1-12:15. What kinds of justice are being assured here? Does David sound a bit like a modern politician? Who plays this role in our society today?

Prophets were those who saw what God would want for a situation and dared to say it.  Prophets can only be identified in retrospect; those who seek the life of a prophet may be suspicious characters. Amos, Isaiah,  and Jeremiah all have a moment in which they basically say,“I didn’t ask to be a prophet!” In other words, beware of those who sign up willingly for the job.

Perhaps the most traumatic political event in the Old Testament is the Babylonian Exile. The Assyrians took the northern kingdom of Israel first, but we don’t know what happened to the people after that. We have no record. The southern kingdom of Judah was taken 150 years later by Babylon. Much of the Old Testament chews on this traumatic event, which left the Jews asking, “If God is in charge, how could this happen?” Read Jeremiah 29:4-14. What kinds of justice are being assured here? Would you want to receive this advice if our own country were conquered by a foreign power? Is there hope in Jeremiah's words?

You’ll hear my take on Jesus as a political figure in my sermon this coming Sunday, so I'll leave that for now. But let's move beyond Jesus' earthly life. The earliest Christians needed to figure out how they would order their common life over against not only the Romans, but also the dominant forms of Judaism. Read Acts 2:42-47. What kinds of justice are being assured here? Why do you suppose the church didn’t stay this way?

During the early persecutions of Christians, apocalyptic literature gave hope to troubled believers. The Revelation to John has confounded Christians for most of the past 2000 years, largely because we have lacked the context to understand it fully. It’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking we know what it means, or to think we can apply it directly to our own political situations today. Resist the urge to apply specific metaphors in Revelation to current or future times; that's not what it's for. Read Revelation 13:11-14:5. Did you grow up in a tradition that placed a lot of emphasis on this book? What kinds of justice are being assured here? What confuses you or frightens you? What do you find ugly or beautiful about this passage?

What about the 2000 years between then and now? How many situations can we name in which faith and politics have overlapped? To any of these situations, apply what you have learned about the Bible’s concerns for justice. What new insights can we gain from ...

  • Christian pacifism, from the early church to the Anabaptists to conscientious objectors today?
  • Augustine's Just War Theory?
  • The witness of women throughout Christian history?
  • The Reformation in Europe, with the church and state sometimes fighting and sometimes aiding and abetting each other in selfish ways?
  • The French Wars of Religion?
  • Thomas Jefferson's phrase "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness"? Or American separation of church and state?
  • The Enlightenment? The development of individualism?
  • Missionary zeal and imperialism?
  • The Civil Rights Movement?
  • The Martyrs of Uganda under Idi Amin?
  • Liberation theology in Central America in the 1970s and '80s?
  • Bishop Tutu and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa in the 1990s?
  • Christians in Iraq, Syria, and Turkey today?

Monday, October 31, 2016

A Godparent's Guide to Books for Children

Several years ago I began to collect a list of books that godparents can give to their godchildren. Most importantly, I wanted to tag each book with a minimum age. I've decided finally to share a version of that list online, though I will keep tweaking my list as people bring ideas to me. Ideally, I'd like the list never to run more than two pages long, with better books always replacing others.

Some of these books are "sacred," and some are "secular." Especially for young kids, I like to blur this distinction. For older kids, it's important to talk about why we make a distinction. Some books that aren't explicitly Christian, like To Kill a Mockingbird, nevertheless make strong statements about what it means to be a Christian in the world.

For the sake of time, I'm not linking all these books to Amazon. Besides, it's always better to buy books in person or through a vendor that needs your money more than Amazon does. In Seattle, we have both the Episcopal Bookstore and the St. Mark's Cathedral Shop. You may have equivalent vendors in your context.



A Godparent’s Guide to Giving Books to Children
Compiled by Josh Hosler; please send additions, corrections, comments to josh.hosler@gmail.com. Feel free to quibble with me about minimum ages, and keep recommending more books, especially for older kids and teens.

For yourself:
Elaine Ramshaw, The Godparent Book: Ideas and Activities for Godparents and Their Godchildren

Web Resources

Books, Religious and Otherwise
Sophie Piper, My Baptism Book (age 2+)
Sam McBratney, Guess How Much I Love You (age 2+)
Margaret Wise Brown, The Runaway Bunny (age 2+)
Peter Spier, People (age 2+)
Angela Elwell Hunt, The Tale of Three Trees (age 2+)
Marie-Helene Delval, Images of God for Young Children (age 2+)
Robert Munsch, Love You Forever (age 2+)
Joan Sauro, Does God Ever Sleep? (age 2+)
Walter Wangerin, Jr., Water, Come Down! The Day You Were Baptized (age 2+)
Phyllis Root, Big Mama Makes the World (age 2+)
Desmond Tutu, God’s Dream (age 3+)
Rabbi Sandy Eisenberg Sasso, In God’s Name (age 3+)
Lisa Tawn Bergren, God Gave Us … (series) (age 3+)
Nancy Tillman, On the Night You Were Born (age 3+)
Tomie diPaola, The Legend of Old Befana (age 3+)
Tomie diPaola, The Song of St. Francis (age 3+)
Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree (age 3+)
Dav Pilkey, God Bless the Gargoyles (age 4+)
Douglas Wood, Old Turtle (age 4+)
Jane G. Meier, When God Made You (age 4+)
William Steig, The Magic Pebble (age 4+)
Tomie DiPaolo, The Clown of God (age 4+)
Walter Wangerin, Jr. – Water, Come Down! (The Day You Were Baptized) (age 4+)
Max Lucado – You Are Special (age 4+)
Marcia Brown, Stone Soup (age 5+)
Patricia Polacco, The Keeping Quilt (age 5+)
Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit (age 5+)
C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia (age 6+)
Dr. Seuss, The Butter Battle Book (age 6+)
Madeleine L’Engle, The Twenty-Four Days Before Christmas (age 6+)
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter series (age 7+)
Antoine de Saint Exupéry, The Little Prince (age 8+)
Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time; A Wind in the Door; A Swiftly Tilting Planet (age 9+)
Deborah Wiles, Each Little Bird That Sings (age 9+)
Lois Lowry, Number the Stars (age 9+)
Lois Lowry, The Giver (age 10+)
Enid Blyton, The Land of Far Beyond (age 10+)
Kim Moss, Leaving Nelson (age 11+)
Katherine Paterson, Bridge to Terebithia (age 11+)
Madeleine L’Engle, Meet the Austins; The Moon by Night; A Ring of Endless Light (age 11+)
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit (age 12+)
Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird (age 12+)
Mark Yaconelli, Wonder, Fear, and Longing: A Book of Prayers (age 13+)
C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces (age 14+)
Jennifer Gamber & Sharon Ely Pearson, Call on Me: A Prayer Book for Young People (age 14+)
The Book of Common Prayer (age 14+/confirmation)

Bibles
Tomie diPaola, The Illustrated Children’s Bible (age 3+)
Marie-Hélène Delval, The Bible for Young Children (age 3+)
Sally Lloyd-Jones, The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every Story Whispers His Name (age 4+)
Eugene Peterson, My First Message (age 4+)
Desmond Tutu, Children of God Bible (age 5+)
Ralph Milton, The Family Story Bible (age 5+)
Brendan Powell Smith, The Brick Bible: The Complete Set (age 9+)
Christopher Miko, The Unofficial Holy Bible for Minecrafters: A Children’s Guide to the Old and New Testament (age 9+)
Siku, The Manga Bible: From Genesis to Revelation (age 12+)