Learn from me

One can choose from a variety of kinds of discipleship. At one end there are the impossibly high views of discipleship, such as my last post You cannot become my disciple. Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Cost of Discipleship is a good example of, well, costly discipleship. I find it easy to despair when I read it. It seems humanly impossible. (See Kjos Ministries for excerpts selected by a conservative brother.)

At the other end of the spectrum, there are the amazingly-low-cost forms of discipleship, nominal Christianity, discipleship by association, say, casual church attendance at most. It's far too cheap--bargain basement--and really isn't worth as much anyway.

Now there are the would-be disciples who when asked to go beyond a comfort zone—to actually give up something—find that they just can make the exchange. They are the camels who cannot fit through the eye of the needle. They are the rich ones who cannot let go of their wealth or their security. They are the pearl buyers who cannot bargain their inventory of cheap pearls for one precious pearl of greater worth. They are the ones who cannot break from the cares of this life.

(I like to think of myself in this second-rate category. It is an aspiration.)

In our human capacity, it is impossible to become a disciple. Those who heard it said, "Then who can be saved?" He replied, "What is impossible for mortals is possible for God." ~ Luke 18:26-27

I used to think this passage was about personal salvation. In this story, however, the one who "went away sad; for he was very rich" was unable to accept Jesus' invitation to discipleship. This is not to say that discipleship is a prerequisite for "salvation," but that this would-be disciple was not yet freed from his many possessions. He was not sufficiently liberated, enlightened or whatever it might call it to abandon himself and accept the call of discipleship.

(In what sense, can we say that such a person is saved?)

Fortunately, there is an alternative. It is called suffering. It’s long, tedious, unrelenting, miserable, and often meaningless suffering, but seems to work for some of us. Suffering in this life can pry us loose from things we once thought were so very essential. It may be quick or slow like peeling off a band-aid. A near death experience can jolt us into realizing that 99% of what's in our life has not the least importance. Or like Martha we fuss about so many things when only one thing is needed. Perhaps Martha has got to wear herself out and burn out completely, until she comes to choose the better path.

(Could Martha have chosen a “better” path to discipleship as Mary seemed to have?)

There's another kind of a third-rate disciple. This is the kind that wants to squeeze in close to Jesus, perhaps for favors, respect, or power. These are the all-too-religious, ambitious type of disciple. They see Jesus as some sort of "in" with the Godfather. Really they're looking to work their way up to make deals with the Big Guy, or at least cut them for the rest of us. These can become the "thugs for Jesus." Jesus died for sinners, but he gets whacked by these guys. And they'll bust your kneecaps if you don't show the right respect to the Boss.

(Whose disciples are these, anyway?)

Ordinary, good Christians are willing to follow the third-rate disciples or at least let them do what they want. These are the nice, wholesome churchgoers, who don't rock anything, those are fearful of controversy and church splits, those who really don’t want anything to change. Perhaps they have no hope of anything better.

This kind of discipleship tends to focus on issues of personal sin, public morality, or social responsibility. If only...everyone could be like us.

Some of these fourth-rate disciples actually believe Jesus died for their personal sins. Never mind the Jesus bore the sin of the whole world. Never mind the people who are literally enslaved, exploited for profit, beaten, raped, starved and discarded. They are crushed by a whole empire of sin. Nope, Jesus did not die for this sin of the world, the corporate clamor for power that degrades the whole creation. No, the accept Jesus as their personal lord and savior. This Jesus died so that God could forgive those burdened with the guilt of sweaty dreams and chocolate cakes.

You see, Jesus doesn't really want me to be a fat, ugly, hideous, disgusting loser of a person. So, God is still working on me. Everyday I get into the word and get a little closer. Someday I get over feeling so bad about me. You see, God wants me to be a beautiful person...because in His eyes...I am beautiful. I really, really want my life to really glorify Him 'cause He is so awesome.

Yes, I do believe the Jesus came to save sinners such as these, even a wanna-be like me.

The problem is we do not know what sin is. We cannot see it though it looks back at us in the mirror. We see rather only the sins we have been shamed to see, the ones we hide, the one that tell us how useless we are, or the ones that let us off the hook of responsibility. It would be far better for us to go “sin boldly.” Eat the whole chocolate cake, in fact, eat two. Work out your lusty affairs till you can take it any more. Get it out of your system. Eat until you vomit. Then maybe you'll be fit to enter the kingdom!


Still I am convinced that God is merciful. The one who is gentle and humble of heart, the human one says, "Learn from me and you will be my disciples. Stay here with me and you will be my witness in all the earth. "


You see, it has nothing to do with you. It’s not about me. Discipleship is a matter of the body prophetic and incarnate priesthood of the crucified one. It is enough to live the presence of the risen one. Lose yourself--your insecurity, ambition, pettiness, shame--and enter the consuming vision of the holy one. Learn from me.

You cannot become my disciple

A reflection on Luke 14:25-33 (Seems I am always a day late on the lectionary, but here goes.)

Jesus turns to the large crowds to say, “None of you can become my disciple.” If this does not piss off the pious among us, even the piety within us, I don’t know what would.

Could Jesus have made it any clearer how foolish are the large ones among us?

There are some who want to build large towers for themselves, but they have no idea of what they are doing. They fill their pews with thousands of seekers and admirers. But they do not perceive their own vanity, nor do they fear from what ridiculous heights they will fall.

Puffy preachers and crowd pleasers, in your heart you despise my cross. Go away, you are not worthy of my discipleship.

There are others who lead the charge against the morally week. But they have no accountably for their bathroom deals and the company they keep. Shamelessly, they lose the war against their most base desires even as they heap judgment upon others.

Foolish fiddlers, you have set your fingers against my little ones. My discipleship for you is to set your shame before the eyes of all.

Lost are the pious ones who follow in large crowds. You are the good husbands and faithful wives. You are the loving parents and obedient children. You are brothers and sisters to all who greet you. You wrap yourselves in the comfort of family, the rightness of tradition and the illusion of respectability.

Dolts, you seek only your best life ever. You cannot become my disciple.

Are we angry yet? Have we got the message? None of us will ever become a disciple.

Because we lack the pure hatred, sufficient anger to dispose of all you possess, we will forever dodge the flames of Christ's baptism. So we will never know the passion within Jesus' bosom. Can anything but the cross ever cut us loose?

Enter the narrow door

Meditation on Luke 13:22-30. [Full text at bottom of post.]

Jesus went through one town and village after another, teaching as he made his way to Jerusalem. (v. 22)

Strive to enter through the narrow door. (v. 24a)

Jesus must have faced many narrowed and closed doors. He taught going from town to town on his way to Jerusalem. How few would receive a prophet into their own home! How many would say to the teacher, “Go away from me. I do not know where you come from.”!

Still the wandering prophet seeks even the least opening for the kingdom of God. Who will open their door to the one? And who strives to enter that narrow door?

Someone asked him, "Lord, will only a few be saved?" (v. 23a)

Perhaps it's not about who will be saved, but who will receive one who brings good news. Jesus is the un-welcomed stranger. Through mistrust many will narrow and close their doors. Though he amuse the crowds on the streets, even to eat and drink with them, few will follow a prophet all the way to Jerusalem, "Jerusalem, the city that kills its prophets."

The prophet strives to enter the narrow door of our heart.

One psychologist compared me to his own pastor. Aparently that minister is more outgoing than I. He had literally gone from door to door to start up his own church. The evaluator told me I’d never do that; it just wasn’t in my profile. Should I believe the good doctor over the one who calls me? Should I turn away from the narrowing of the door? Or shall I take up my staff and walk with his mantle upon me?

The kingdom of God consists of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets. May we not be ashamed at the sight of them, but may we be numbered among this band. May all those who walk the road of the prophets, walk all the way to Jerusalem.

Strive to enter the narrow door.

Luke 13:22-30 22 Jesus went through one town and village after another, teaching as he made his way to Jerusalem. 23 Someone asked him, "Lord, will only a few be saved?" He said to them, 24 "Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able. 25 When once the owner of the house has got up and shut the door, and you begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, 'Lord, open to us,' then in reply he will say to you, 'I do not know where you come from.' 26 Then you will begin to say, 'We ate and drank with you, and you taught in our streets.' 27 But he will say, 'I do not know where you come from; go away from me, all you evildoers!' 28 There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth when you see Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrown out. 29 Then people will come from east and west, from north and south, and will eat in the kingdom of God. 30 Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last."

Church Blessing and Control

I've had to ask myself, what is ordination for ministry? Since I myself am pursuing ordination, I've had to think deeply why it matters to me. After all, as a baptized believer, I am already called and empowered to share the gospel in how I live and what I say. In this country, I could even start my own independent, non-denominational church if I wanted to! So why seek ordination within any denomination?

For me the answer comes down to accountability and blessing. Clearly, accountability is important for the benefit and protection of those with whom I serve—even my family and myself. I know enough of my own sinfulness to know that I need this. But lately I been coming to a deeper appreciation of why blessing matters in ministry and how painful it is to have that blessing withheld.

Last week my pastor, Bradley Schmeling, was removed from the roster of ordained ministers of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA). He was removed for violating a church policy barring gay ministers in the ELCA from being in committed relationships with someone of the same sex. The members of St. John's Lutheran Church in Atlanta, Georgia, unanimously support and value our pastor. Personally, he is one of the finest ministers I have had the privilege of knowing.

The denominational rejection of our pastor was definitely not for the sake of protecting our congregation from a bad minister. I believe strongly that denominational discipline of minister must be applied to protect congregations and congregants, say, in the case of embezzlement, sexual harassment, and any number of other situations of making improper use of ministerial office. But this is not the case at St. John's. The Disciplinary Hearing Committee found no lack in his ministry or any way that his gay or partnered status had somehow impaired his ministry among us. The DHC also determined that the specific policies baring “practicing” homosexuals from ministry were "bad policy," but they did not go so far as to disregard the explicit policy.

So if not for the wellbeing of the congregation, why did the Committee on Appeals overturn the decision of the disciplinary committee so to remove Pastor without delay? I must admit that I do not understand why that the CoA took so lightly the concern of the DHC that the specific policies are "at least bad policy, if not unconstitutional" regarding ELCA constitutional standards? But whatever their motivation their decision stands as a painful intrusion into the life of our congregation.

I had not anticipated what such a removal could mean to a congregation such as ours. Usually, we think about what removal of ordination means to the clergy member so disciplined, but not to the congregations that have called such a pastor to ministry.

The members of St. John's were informed two days before the decision became public knowledge. We were all shocked and upset. We have loved and have been loved by Pastor Bradley for seven years. Such is a sacred bond between a pastor and congregation. But this bond was disregarded by a church body that would not even meet with us. Many of us were angry at the decision. We had struggled so long to hold our head up, but now that rejection that was aimed at our pastor was our portion as well.

When I heard the news I was unusually calm and hopeful. I thought this was just a momentary set back that would only serve to charge the Churchwide Assembly in August to remove this bad policy once and for all--and I remain hopeful at this prospect. But a few days later it sunk in just how sad it made me. While others had responded with anger and hurt feelings, I guess I was more in the denial camp. Grief was our reality in either case.

How can so many in the denomination who know nothing of our congregational life feel that they can judge us and our pastor whom we have called and wish to retain? How can they reduce what's best for our congregational life to a quibble about church policy and biblical interpretation? Do we even matter? Or is this just an opportunity for the conservative wing of the church to score a few points for their "biblical worldview"?

It shouldn't matter much. Our pastor will continue to serve as our pastor with or without the blessing of the ELCA. If our detractors wish us out of the denomination, they'll have to push a lot harder; we're not moving. Last Sunday we had worship just the same as any Sunday. Our pastor presided over the Lord's Table and we partook in this sacrament.

This brings me back to my basic question. Why does ordination matter? The most guarded privilege of ordained ministry in the ELCA is the ministry of sacrament. In principle, layperson Bradley should not preside over communion or baptisms at St. John's, and the congregation should not accept invalid administration of the sacraments.

Consequently, the disciplinary action against Pastor Schmeling deprives our congregation of either our pastor or the sacraments. This is what happens when the blessing of ordination is withdrawn. The blessing of the ELCA is no longer with us.

What should we do? Perhaps we should abstain from the Eucharist. We could lift up an empty cup and a plate with no bread. We could confess the hidden bread of doing God's will and the wine of fellowship in the Holy Spirit. I am sure that God and the grace of God can meet us even as we lift our own hearts as empty vessels. We can hunger and thirst after righteousness. We can stand with all who have been pushed away from the table. We can still stand around the altar and pray for one another. We can still anoint each other with oil and drive away sickness.

I wonder how Luther and his congregation felt about worship when Luther was excommunicated from the church. He never chose to leave; he was kicked out. Despite his own anxieties, Luther must have held the conviction that the gifts of God are for the people of God with or without the blessing of Rome? And lest we forget, Pope Benedict XVI felt a need to remind us all that the Protestant churches are not churches and lack the real means of grace.

What does it mean when the church withholds blessing from sincere ministry? I suspect what is really going on is that leaders misconstrue authority with control. Luther was excommunicated because those in power could not control him. And to this day the Vatican withholds the blessing of Apostolic Succession from the Protestant churches. A wave of the Pope's hand with prayer and a bit of oil could solve this whole problem once and for all if not for the strings of control. But closer to home, there are elements within the ELCA who want to control congregations like St. John's and pastors like Bradley Schmeling by withholding the blessing of ordination.

When will we learn that authority is not about control? It is about blessing. Jesus commands his disciples to love one another. This command is not about control. Control never brings about love. But Jesus has the authority to command love because he blesses his disciples and gives them the Holy Spirit to accomplish whatever love demands. Jesus has this authority because he lived and suffered what love required. While Pontius Pilate bartered for power and control, Jesus released his control into the hands of those who crucified him. This is the authority I long to see, and this is the blessing.

Come Melchizedek, bring your wine and bread,
Restore our fellowship and make us whole.
Prince of Salem, Priest of God Most High,
We are called to be a people like you.

One Sunday Morning

One Sunday Morning, or A Vision of the Church as Spirit and Bride

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. ~ Thrid Article of the Apostles Creed.

That Sunday I felt out of sorts. I was exhausted and spiritually depleted. I took myself to church anyway. Arriving well after the service had begun, I sat down in the back and off to the side. Feeling disconnected, I just sat and watched. I seemed to have no energy to do otherwise.

As I looked around, I noticed how people were praying, listening, singing, how each one was experiencing the service. I followed the reader who got up, walked over to a large book and read with a dry voice. I listened to a singer labor at her song. I considered how the preacher seemed to carry on a kind of conversation with the congregation and then to talk at length. Later the congregation sung a hymn in response.

At some point—I don’t know when—I began to witness another presence. All the people were like little actors through which a greater spirit was at work. It was not the reader who read but this spirit. It was not the singer who sung, but the spirit who labored within her. The spirit was manifest in the experience of each congregant. One congregant would smile while another felt the oncoming of tears. One would listen attentively while another found a kind of rest. The spirit was urgent or distant according to a higher will. The singing was humble and human, but it was also enveloped in another chorus of angels, archangels and saints. The spirit was at once the conductor, the breath, the voice, the song. This was surely true, though the ones who participated had little awareness. The spirit animated each in spite of their self-engagement, each speaking a word never learned and seldom heard.

At once I realized that there was nothing for me to do—no ministry, no effort, no necessity. The church is all spirit and all sufficiently in-fleshed. What is ministry but to witness? It is spirit. It is not unfolding. It is not becoming. It is not yet to be. It simply is. And it is whether we perceive it or not.

As people filed around the altar to receive bread and wine, I remained in my seat, a watcher at his post. I heard a melody. Not in the spirit, but played note by note on the piano. It was beautiful as it was, inviting and strangely familiar. Where had I heard this? Then I remembered with a jolt. That song had come through me. I had penned the words, “Welcome my full welcome; all my children come to me. I will make a way for you; I will make you holy.” I welled up but not for pride or a sense of accomplishment. I wept because it was beautiful just as it was—sung back to me, no doing on my part. Each sang as the spirit sang in each.

So I witness to the spirit and the bride who say, Come.

Anointed by a Woman

Who anointed God’s Anointed? In Luke’s Gospel (4:18), Jesus claims that the “Spirit of the Lord” had anointed him, but what prophet could have stood as God’s representative in anointing Jesus? What Samuel anointed this Son of David[1]? While John baptized Jesus, he claimed not to be worthy to loosen his sandals[2] and applied no ointment.

According to the four Gospels, Jesus was anointed only by a woman[3]. This woman’s identity is obscure and her action ambiguous. Like a good parable, these stories confound our pious expectations and expose our self-serving rationalizations. Luke’s variant of this story stands out as particularly incongruent with the other Gospels. Indeed, I will argue that Luke deliberately inverts the story to further his vision of Jesus as the prophet of the poor, women, and untouchables.

I will begin by setting out the basic structure of the story. In subsequent paragraphs, I will compare the content choices of Luke to the other accounts, noting in particular how and why key elements have been inverted. Finally, I will summarize the resulting impact of Luke’s retelling. The basic story is as follows. I note with emphasis where Luke departs from other Gospels.

1. Setting

a. Time – Two (Mt, Mk) or six (Jn) days before Jesus final Passover; early in Jesus ministry (Lk)

b. Location – Bethany, near Jerusalem (Mt, Mk, Jn); Galilee (Lk)

c. Host – Simon, the Leper (Mt, Mk); Simon, the Pharisee (Lk); Lazarus & Martha (Jn)

d. Jesus' posture – Reclining at table (Mt, Mk, Lk, Jn)

2. Action of woman

a. Characterization of woman – “a woman” (Mt, Mk); “woman from the city…a sinner” (Lk); Mary, sister of Martha & Lazarus (Jn)

b. The ointment – Alabaster jar of costly ointment of nard (Mt, Mk, Lk); pound of costly perfume of nard (Jn)

c. Method of anointing – Pouring on head (Mt, Mk); anointing feet and wiping with hair (Lk, Jn), also weeping and kissing feet (Lk)

3. Reaction of indignant critic

a. Identification of the critic – “some were indignant” (Mk); some indignant disciples (Mt); the host Simon, the Pharisee (Lk); Judas Iscariot (Jn)

b. Object of indignation – The woman (Mt, Mk, Jn); Jesus (Lk)

c. Rationalization – Extravagant use of costly resource better spent on the poor (Mt, Mk, Jn); Impropriety of prophet who allows himself to be touched by a sinner (Lk)

4. Jesus’ response to criticism

a. Defense of woman’s action – A beautiful gesture, preparation of Jesus’ body for burial (Mt, Mk, Jn); woman’s hospitality contrasted with the inhospitality of host/critic (Lk)

b. Rebuke of critic – Critic does not really care about the poor (Mk, Jn); parable of forgiveness leads critic to judge against himself (Lk)

c. Wisdom teaching – “You will always have that poor, but you will not always have me.” (Mt, Mk, Jn); “The one who is forgiven much, loves much.” (Lk)

d. Vindication of woman – Gospel will be proclaimed “in remembrance of her” (Mt, Mk); woman’s sins forgiven by her faith expressed in great love (Lk); Jesus follows Mary’s example by washing disciples feet (Jn 15:1-17)

The setting in Luke is clearly inverted. The other accounts place this story in Bethany near Jerusalem just days before Jesus’ final Passover[4]. Luke places the story near the Sermon on the Plain (6:20-49) at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, not at the end. Given Luke’s geographical sequence, this places Jesus in Galilee before he sets “his face toward Jerusalem” (9:51). This is not the time or place for Jesus to be honored as the Messiah, thus Luke is merely establishing Jesus as a prophet among the people, especially the Galileans.

Curiously “Simon” is the host’s name in the three synoptics, but Luke characterizes him as a Pharisee, not a leper[5]. Luke contrasts the piety of Simon with the sinfulness of the woman and sets up the listener for the reversal at the end wherein the woman is justified, but Simon is condemned. Had Luke followed Matthew and Mark in calling Simon a leper, the reversal would not be possible. A leper would have been untouchable, just as a sinful woman would have no place touching a holy prophet[6]. Furthermore, setting Simon as a Pharisee aligns him with all the “righteous” ones who hear Jesus, but ultimately do not receive him or heed him as a true prophet. Jesus’ identity as a prophet is at stake in Luke’s characterization of Simon.

The synoptics concur on particular details of the “alabaster jar of ointment.”[7] I take such agreement to suggest that Luke was consciously adapting the story in Mark and Matthew. Moreover, Luke does not place his version in Bethany at Jesus’ final Passover[8]. The lack of such a “doublet” suggests that Luke is deliberately inverting this story and not simply including a different, though similar story.

Luke clearly inverts the method of anointing in Matthew and Mark. Here not the head, but the feet are anointed[9]. Anointing the head may be seen as a prophetic or priestly act, potentially placing the woman in a high spiritual status. The ambiguity of this act is the basis for the disciples’ reaction against the presumption of the woman. Such ambiguity also gives the story some of the force of a parable. It is subversive to assert that Jesus’ messianic anointing on earth was consecrated by a woman of no particular authority.

Luke would have been sensitive to this telling of the story as a parable, and perhaps this is what gave him license to recast it as a different sort of parable. Indeed, Luke inserts a parable on forgiveness within the story. The act of the “sinful” woman exemplifies her contrition, humble love and ultimately her justification. She anoints his feet, not only with ointment, but with her own tears, touching his feet with her hands, her hair and her lips. The intimacy of her act is also ambiguous. Is this the display of a prostitute seeking to corrupt Jesus? Or does this speak to the sublime intimacy of those who have been received into the kingdom, a spiritual awakening of which the self-righteous know nothing? To dwell on the sinfulness of this woman is to miss the point. Luke’s reference (8:1-3) falling on the heels of the anointing story underscores the point: the women who followed and supported Jesus in his ministry were those “who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities.”

John’s Gospel (12:3) names her as Mary of Bethany, the devoted disciple of Jesus who anointed his feet. This seems to integrate the spiritual intimacy interpretation of Luke’s account with the high prophetic or priestly act of Matthew and Mark’s versions. The subsequent story in John 15:1-17 of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet carries the same paradox of lowly service and high spiritual status. Perhaps the Johanine community had come to see that there is no distinction, that the two are inextricably bound together.

In Luke’s version, Jesus’ critic is not a disciple, but the host Simon the Pharisee. In the other versions, the disciples are indignant to the woman and criticize the waste or extravagance of her gesture[10]. Simon the Pharisee is indignant of Jesus for allowing a sinful woman to touch him. This brings Jesus’ legitimacy as a prophet into question while casting derision on the woman. Jesus responds to his critical host by engaging him in a parable about one who had been forgiven little and another forgiven much. As when the prophet Nathan confronted David with a parable regarding Bathsheba so Jesus sets Simon up to rule against himself[11]. Simon is the one who had loved little and would be forgiven even less, while the “sinful” woman who had expressed greater hospitality, faithfulness and love is forgiven of all. If, in fact, this woman is already forgiven, then Simon’s criticism is unfounded. Jesus is not being touched by a sinful woman, but is anointed by one who is already present in the kingdom. Simon does not at first perceive this apocalyptic reality.

Luke presents a prophet who brings the high to self-judgment and vindicates the lowly. Luke’s recasting of the story of the woman who anointed Jesus functions as a parable to subvert our expectation of who is holy and who is sinful. The Son of Man who eats and drinks with sinners[12] reveals a moment wherein the untouchable touch, healing and anointing each other.


Please leave a comment or send an email to let me know you have read this far. God bless, James


Notes
[1] C.f. 1Sam 10:1; 16:3
[2] Lk 3:16
[3] Lk 7:36-50, Mt 26:6-13, Mk 14:3-9, Jn 12:1-9
[4] Mt 26:2,6; Mk 14:1,3; Jn 12:1
[5] Lk 7:39-40, Mt 26:2, Mk 14:3
[6] “A strict reading of Lev. 5:1-5 indicates a risk of defilement upon even touching (or being touched by) a sinner.” Commentary on Luke 7.39 in HarperCollins Study Bible, p. 1777.
[7] Mt 26:7, Mk 14:3, Lk 7:37
[8] Only references to Bethany in Luke are 19:29 and 24:50.
[9] Mt 26:7, Mk 14:3, Lk 7:38
[10] Mt 26:8, Mk 14:4, Lk 7:39
[11] 2Sam 12:1-14; Lk 7:40-46
[12] Lk 7:34

The Measure of our Enlightenment

Cleaning up emails in my inbox, I found some old correspondence worth sharing.

In 2003, my friend Martha gave me a link to a very interesting link to the an article titled "Dark Night of Mother Teresa." This was written in advance of Mother Teresa's beatification on Oct. 19, 2003 in Rome.

The article discusses some hidden aspects of the life of Mother Teresa. What was reveled by Mother Teresa's spiritual director, only after her death, was that she had been experiencing spiritual darkness for all the time she was in India. Prior to her mission she was content as a contemplative nun, and she had been receiving visitations by Jesus in visions and other mystical experiences. But all this ended once she committed herself to a mission in Calcutta, as Jesus had asked of her in a vision. She entered, what St. John of the Cross had called, the dark night of the spirit. In this dark night, the soul is bereft of all spiritual consolation, but only experiences a profound sense of emptiness, dryness, even abandonment by God.

I found it compelling that this woman, in whom so many could see the bright light of Christ, experienced only darkness within her own soul, an acute awareness of separation from God. This stark revelation motivated me to write the following email response to Martha.


Martha,

Thanks for the article.

One of my new friends here in Atlanta had worked with Mother Teresa for several years. Just last night Isaac was telling my about how Mother Teresa would give people a slight touch and fill the person with love, peace and joy. Isaac had also been a Brother at Taize for ten years. He told me that Br. Roger has a similar touch. Now Isaac is a refugee from his home country of Bangladesh where he was a human rights activist and publisher. We meet weekly for conversation and prayer, wondering how the Spirit may be leading us.

About Mother Teresa's dark night, I am reminded of the Bhakti Sutra that says that the ultimate degree of Bhakti, a Sanskrit word for the yoga of devotional love, is the cherishing of supreme separation. This comes after the more blissful stages of divine courtship leading to union. After union it is the love that flows out from us (Beloved-and-I) that matters.

By analogy, we can only see the light that comes toward us. The light that flows out from us we cannot see, nor do we need to. Only sometimes, we may see small reflections of that light as it reflects back to us though the eyes of those that Love is loving through us.

The measure of one's enlightenment is not the light that one sees, but the light that others see shining from the One. When Mother Teresa touches us, we are filled with love, joy and peace. This is the light that shines out of darkness, emptiness, abandon.

We should not be concerned when we no longer feel the sweet consolations of the Spirit. If we are doing the will of God, that is enough.

Nice to hear from you again. I hope to visit Durham sometime soon. Let's stay in touch.

In Christ,
James

10/20/2003

Suffered under Pontius Pilate

Why does the creed say that Jesus "suffered under Pontius Pilate"? It seems an odd historical detail to sit in the middle such a lofty theological statement. Yes, of course, we believe that Jesus suffered. He even suffered for our sins! But why mention Pontius Pilate? How does old Pilate stand in credal company with Mary and Jesus?

Pilate wasn't particularly interested in crucifying Jesus. He didn't go out of his way to track him down. He didn't see any particular fault in him. He didn't really want to get his finger nails dirty. But he was the highest authority in the land. He represented all the Roman power needed to keep the peace in Palestine. It really was not a big matter for him to squash a couple of would-be Messiahs, even the harmless, witless type, who pose no real threat to anybody in power. Jesus just sort of popped up in front of him, and he swept him away. He could do this several times a day and sleep just fine at night.

Jesus was a nobody. Pilate was the highest authority. All the power circles about him lusted after his authority. They worshiped the weighty, even to grab a little for themselves or at least to secure a little safety. Pilate was but projection or product of the clamor for power. Cut off the head of Pilate and another head would pop up in its place.

But Jesus was the nobody. Those with power, those with authority, those with dignity or wealth, none of those could even see Jesus, such a worthless bug was he. Die, little bug. Squish, squish. Don't leave a mess.

Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate. And yet the church clamors for his authority, any shread of authority.

Dear Jesus, watch over all the little bugs tonight, and bring to shame the mighty in your morning light! Amen.

Come visit some Sunday

Here's a response to a blogger who has his doubts about St. John's in Atlanta. See his post at http://hillbillywhitetrash.blogspot.com/2007/02/one-cannot-serve-two-masters.html

Lemuel,

I would like to invite you to come visit St. John's, my home church. It's only a 4 hour drive from Ashville to Atlanta. You can see for yourself what is going on.

For me, it's a beautiful congregation, wonderful fellowship with lively and sincere worship. Pastor Brad is a truly gifted minister. He's excellent in preaching (which is always Bible-based), working with children and youth and providing attentive pastoral care. This is a place where God is transforming lives, drawing us into grace, wholeness, and discipleship.

It's growth, by the way, has been predominantly among families with young children. We certainly welcome gay folk, but the vast majority of our membership is straight. We're not looking for a place where "we can just go on sinning and it's all ok." No, we do not justify sin. Rather, in hope, we look to Christ to justify us sinners, to bring us into right relation with God and each other.

To be clear, it's about Christ justifying sinners, not justifying our sin or justifying ourselves. A gay person could live his entire life completely celibate, but that would add nothing his salvation. You and I can spend our whole lives living up to Biblical standards, but it adds nothing to the righteousness we find in Christ. Worse yet in trying to make ourselves righteous, we only become self-righteous which means we do not really have any faith at all. We are all sinners, whatever our sins may be, but the best we can do is trust Christ's righteousness and allow the Holy Spirit make us whole.

Well, I could go on preaching at you. But really I just want to let you know that we welcome you. You can be a conservative among us and you won't be the only one. You can be whoever you are and grow in Christ with us.

Don't believe me? Put us to the test, come visit some Sunday.

Peace, James

Proposal to Delay the Gospel until 2009

My unworthy response to “The Resolution to Wait for 2009 Social Statement” put forward by the Lutheran Churches of the Common Confession. See text at http://commonconfession.blogspot.com/2007/03/resolution-to-wait-for-2009-social.html.


If this [resolution] could be amended to suspend Pr. Schmeling's removal from roster until after the 2009 Churchwide Assembly, you may get broad cooperation. It would remove urgency created by Schmeling's case.

The final "whereas" should also be re-written. The Synod's counsel prosecuting Pr. Schmeling could have presented "evidence supporting the current guidelines" had they deemed it useful to their case.

Counsel for Pr. Schmeling presented evidence and expert theological testimony against the current guidelines. So the prosecution had opportunity to call counter witnesses. Why would they choose not to?

Without such modification, this proposed memorial smacks of personal attack against Pr. Schmeling and the congregation of St. John's Lutheran Church. This is not about abstract principle, godly or otherwise. It is about real persons and real congregations who are seeking to live out the gospel.

To say that these people should be swept aside because this addressing conflict is "divisive and distracting" is an affront to the gospel.

Did not our Lord instruct us to leave our offering at the altar until we first go reconcile ourselves with our brother? You hypocrites who want to brush your brother aside so you can go play church!

Do you not understand that with brushing aside Pastor Brad you are driving out thousands of baptized believers and placing stumbling blocks before millions? How many souls are you willing to deprive of the gospel so that you can feel secure in your legalistic reading of scripture?

I speak only as a layperson with no authority in the church. What do I know of the gospel?

Tell me you experts in the confessions and scripture. What shall I say to my Lord when he says, “I was hungry, but you sent me away, saying, ‘The bible clearly says homosexuals will not inherit the kingdom’”?


This “continuing conflict” is no less than a first-order question of the gospel.