"The politicization of faith profanes the sacred."

Photo from Rick Perry's Rally (AP photo)

My Take: Don’t be fooled by candidates’ God talk

"When religion becomes merely another political trick, we all lose. The politicization of faith profanes the sacred."

This second sentence keeps me up at night.

On the one hand, I agree with the context of this article.  The field of candidates for president have been playing up their Christian publicity, because "after being a Republican, the best predictor of someone being a Tea Party supporter is whether a person has a desire to see religion significantly impact politics."  Even Ron Paul (who named his son after a-theist Ayn Rand) has started a new campaign to get support from Evangelical voters.  When political candidates in recent years used their "faith" as a cheap ploy to get mindless masses of sorta-Christian voters to vote for them (sometimes because their pastors tell them it's part of getting into heaven), I determined that the separation of church and state was absolutely necessary.  Those "Christian" leaders went on to do everything they could to destroy the poor, the marginal- God's beloved children.  Making their faith a political tool for personal gain, these candidates/leaders profaned the sacred.

On the other hand, I am bound as a Christian to advocate on behalf of the poor, the marginal- God's beloved children.  If I am to have the heart of God, whom I know in Jesus Christ, as revealed in the scriptures, I must offer the care and concern for those people who are so deeply and historically oppressed by our government and society.  If I can offer that care through my vote- by putting into office the candidate who will care for God's beloved people, I will.  No, I've never found a perfect candidate, but considering how deeply divided this society is around us, I will compromise toward the candidate who shows more promise of bringing health and well-being to both wealthy and poor.  I will also hold that candidate/leader accountable.  But am I politicizing faith?  Do I profane the sacred?  Jesus was crucified on a Roman political symbol of oppression.  Jesus talked political, not only with Roman authorities but with religious authorities.  Jesus politicized faith- and in my faith understanding, he is the Sacred.

How then do I nuance my faith, that I get angry when candidates for office pander for "religious" votes in order to be elected into office- then destroy God's people, yet I vote others into office according to my faith?  Is it the matter of authenticity?  Genuine faith vs. manipulative faith?  How does the notion of evangelism get caught up in this?  Do we vote our faith as an arm of "the sharing of the Good News?"  Is that necessarily a bad thing?  Can it be a good thing, based on a particular understand of what the "Good News" is?

No, I don't really have many well-formed answers; mostly questions.  This is messy stuff.  It sometimes keeps me up at night.  I'm sure I have much room for growth here.  I had determined in seminary that I can and must be politically-active, for the reasons mentioned before, but that it must always be kept severely in check, lest I become what I fear most: the one profaning the sacred by profaning God's people.  I share this inner dialogue with you, dear blog reader, because we don't always give much thought to how we constantly pick and choose, and nuance, our decisions.  Why do you vote the way you do?  How do cultures, society, campaigns, prejudices nuance your thinking?  When thinking about prayer in schools, or chaplains in Congress, or the presence of the flag during worship in a church sanctuary, we often have strong opinions one way or the other.  What about our broad, sweeping votes for this candidate or the other (or a third party)?  Do we export our religion into politics, but not really import politics into religion?  What do you think?

Impressions

Lake Huron

 I've been hanging out with my friends in Michigan this week, in a city on lake Huron, south of the Mackinaw Bridge to the UP.  It's my first time in Michigan, and my first time to this nautical city, but there have been some really wonderful things that I want to share:

1) Church bells (in this case, electronic chimes) are wonderful.  Not only do they mark the passage of time through the day, they have an old-world character that reminds me that we aren't that far from our brothers and sisters in Christ across the ages- from those many generations who have worshiped in the massive cathedrals in the Old Town in Vilnius, to those living near the missions in Texas and on the historic and changing boundaries between one world and another, East and West, North and South, Native and Colonial- there were always bells.  Bells, of course, are also used by a variety of faiths and traditions, and many of us find/look for similar aspects of the Holy One in the ringing of bells.  These chimes take on a special character though when ringing out a good hymn.  On Saturday, they rang out a haunting hymn, that I didn't know, in a minor key.  It brought me to tears; it didn't really matter that they are electronic chimes rather than real bells, or that it was a Presbyterian Church rather than a Roman Catholic Church, or that it was in Michigan and not in Vilnius.  It was a thing of beauty.

2) Ecumenicism is also a beautiful thing.  Seeing my ecumenically-minded friend be ordained and installed as the Teaching Elder (Minister of Word and Sacrament) at this church, with so many members present, and with so many clergy from different traditions- it also wanted to make me cry.  The Laying on of Hands, which looks funny from the outside- like the gifts of the Spirit are being transferred onto this new member of clergy through biological electrical signals- took on such a depth of meaning when it was clergy from PCUSA, ELCA, UCC, RCC (Sister Mary was there, and even though she's not ordained, she fills the role of priest where there is otherwise no priest).  Yes, I just listed mostly Mainline Protestant denominations, but knowing historically how hard it is to get clergy in the same room and agree on anything, knowing that these folks are so willing to support each other as clergy of another denomination is special.  I also think it's telling that each came wearing his/her own cloth (Presbyterians in their black robes, Lutherans in their white robes, etc.), and never at any point did anyone feel the need to modify their own faith, their own identity in order to accommodate anyone else.  Sister Mary didn't need to cease to be Catholic in order to celebrate this ordination/installation service at a PCUSA church.  No one else had to become particularly Catholic in order to accommodate her.  When I think of Interfaith activities, people get so uptight about accommodating- either being for or against it- when no one really needs to sacrifice their own beliefs in order to be in dialogue with people of other faiths.  We can respect each other and maybe even worship together, and still not be exactly like each other.  Maybe we need to think of that within our own denomination when conflict arises?

3) Family is such a gift.  Good colleagues and friends are also a gift.  The latter tends to be more fluid and changing, and that's alright.  But family members get to remember all the good and difficult times that brought circumstances to this place- what a joy to finally arrive at this trail marker!  It took a lot of work, prayer, providence to get here.  In a way, I felt like I was passing my friend off to the congregation- I got to share in so many of the good and difficult times of seminary, a fleeting time really, but now you will be the partners in crime...err..ministry, and you get to support each other in God's call to these people in this place.  As a representative of our many seminary friends (most of whom could only be present in spirit), I symbolically passed him off to you, Congregation.  Be kind, listen, grieve together, rejoice together, and listen for God's voice together. 

Nautical symbol featured even on the bench next to the lake!

4) Symbols are important to identity.  I love finding a community's symbols- this city is the "Nautical City," and the symbols are everywhere: in the parks, along the streets, on the ceiling beams of the church, in the building materials, within the culture.  There is still only one place in the world which seems to mask or manipulate local identity: suburbs that were conceived only as bedroom communities.  Everyone else seems to know who they are.  It's not a surprise that most of the deepest existentialist thinkers among my personal friends have been from suburbs.  Their crisis of identity has been life-long.  They were born into it.  I think I'm also talking about myself here.  This is probably why I still look to coffee shops as spiritual centers, places of existential conversations, places to work out symbolism, identity, faith.  I still see the potential in bringing together the safety and sanctuary of the church and the conversation and fellowship of the coffee house.  Apparently, so has everyone else.

5) Life moves on, and it doesn't look the same for everyone.  I'm so excited and proud for my friend to be ordained, even though my call hasn't brought me there yet.  It's a little frustrating for me, that I've come so far to even affirm that God might be calling me to be a woman and ordained as a minister in a church, to have journeyed so far on the seminary/educational end and the ordination prep through my Presbytery, yet here I'm ready for that call (so I think!) and I don't think it's here yet.  I know I could do what many, but not everyone by any stretch, have done, which is pursue the call even when it's not necessarily there.  Ministers have told me how they just agreed to a call at any church, one that eventually ate them up and spit them out.  I don't think God calls people to be burned out in the ministry.  God might turn burn-out into something good, but I don't think it's an end unto itself as part of God's intention.  So I balance caution with enthusiastically looking intently for an actual call.  Then I get these glimpses of that call- one way bigger than me- one that includes a whole community- and I rest assured that it's there, that God hasn't forgotten me, but it will take time.  For this transient, shallow-rooted 27-year-old, there is time.  Maybe there won't be time...who knows....but I can get things started and see what happens.  I don't have to develop a mission ex nihilo, lest it be only my own and not God's mission.  God is already here, and I'm excited to look for the signposts, the symbols, the activity, and join up with that.  I truly believe my friend has followed the movement of God here, and in a very traditional way within the church, which is why I celebrate so whole-heartedly.  But not every call looks the same.

Where are the girls?

I was having a discussion with a friend the other day about a pastor she met who sounded more like a used car salesman than an ordained minister.  Having my theories, I responded that when a little boy grows up in a congregation and tries to sell everyone some Jesus, people naturally affirm, "Well, he'll make a great pastor someday!"  In reality, pastors come from many different backgrounds, including as car salesmen in their first careers, and this statement may not be entirely true.  I have seen the "young preacher" types before though, and it wasn't necessarily a predestined calling for these boys because they were natural leaders, knew their Bible all that well, or had the most pure thoughts.  They just knew how to talk to people well.  They were extroverted.  They struck people as confident.  Sometimes they were pastors' kids.  They knew it was safe, even praiseworthy, to talk about Jesus in church.  Some actually became fantastic ministers.  Others not so much.

I wondered then, from my relatively new context of the PCUSA, how do congregations nurture their little girls who seem called to church leadership, or who display an early call to the pulpit?  I never really saw this when I was growing up, and I haven't seen it much in the last four years, but it's quite telling that there are more female M.Div. students at the seminary where I studied than male students.  Many of my female friends from seminary largely had no idea what it is like for those potential female leaders in churches that consider it un-Biblical to ordain them.  These lovely friends often acted like I was from another planet when I was trying to confront my own issues of my unworthiness to God's call to preach and teach and be "The Reverend."

Then I read this article today about PEW's (Post-Evangelical Women) and the experience of going from "silent in church" to "the preacher."  There's a great deal of truth here.  I'm reminded that one female Christian, perhaps many, can have extraordinarily different experiences between churches, not because they are all so different but because they are perceived by the others around them in drastically different ways.  So I ask in all naivete, how do churches who ordain women (and have for a while) identify those girls who seem early on to have a call from God to preach?

*Photos were taken by me in the church where I preached for my supervised ministry internship during my seminary studies.  It's one of the early places where I struggled to find my voice.

Jesus and the ruler

There's an on-going debate in my house about the usefulness of a particular passage found in the 3 synoptic gospels for "the rich."  The passage, with interesting variations between gospels, can be found in one form in Luke 18:18-27: (http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=182070449)

18 A certain ruler asked him, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ ¹⁹Jesus said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. ²⁰You know the commandments: “You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; Honour your father and mother.” ’ ²¹He replied, ‘I have kept all these since my youth.’ ²²When Jesus heard this, he said to him, ‘There is still one thing lacking. Sell all that you own and distribute the money^* to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’ ²³But when he heard this, he became sad; for he was very rich. ²⁴Jesus looked at him and said, ‘How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! ²⁵Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.’
26 Those who heard it said, ‘Then who can be saved?’ ²⁷He replied, ‘What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.’

Traditional interpretations have taken this passage in a few directions:
1) You really can't be rich and follow Jesus/enter the kingdom of God.  Really...sell (most of) what you own.  Right now.  Go.  This interpretation gets trickier when even many among the poor in the US realize how much wealth they have in relation to the rest of the world.  Working for more than a dollar a day?  You might want to join the sell-off now.
2) Don't worry about anything but verses 26 and 27, about how it's impossible to save yourself (by selling all you possess).  God will save you because it's only possible for God to save anyone, including the wealthy.  Don't worry if you're reading this passage while sipping a $200 bottle of wine on an ivory couch on your 80' yacht.  Don't worry if you steal from the poor, step over them at your gates, build a life resembling Solomon.  God's still got your back!  
3) What do the words "wealthy" and "poor" really mean?  They are relative, abstract terms.  Just as the poor in America still make more than many middle-class workers in other country, yet the poor in this country still go hungry, can't get the medical care they need, etc- clearly "rich" and "poor" are relative terms.  Is it a self-label?  You're only rich if you think you are rich?  And the same with poor?  So, you can still enjoy the wine, couch, yacht if you look at your wealthier neighbors and realize how poor you are in relation to them?  Maybe it's confirming that I really shouldn't pay any attention to the poor, lest I learn how rich I truly am.
4) Really, "wealth" is a spiritual word.  We're all wealthy in something- good health, strong education, loyal friends, tons of children/grandchildren, diversity of skills.  Abundance comes in so many shapes.  No one is really lacking in some kind of wealth or abundance.  Even food on our table is a wealth, an abundance.  This passage isn't so much about eternal life or following Jesus as much as it is about learning to thank God for your blessings.  The only person who fails to do that is someone who says what they have isn't enough.  Lots of money but poor health, please don't bother God with that!  Lots of children but no money?  Count your blessings that you aren't alone, at least!
5) The kingdom of God is already here (as well as not yet here), and it's not so much about the hereafter as it is about how the wealthy will never choose, on their own, to enter the kingdom of God here in this place because they view themselves as self-sufficient and the kingdom of God is more about inter-dependence.  Besides, the kingdom of God has been characterized as sitting together at a big dinner table, or engaged in a massive circle-dance, and no wealthy person would want to sit next to someone who worked for them, or cleaned their dishes, in the previous life.  No wealthy person would want to hold hands and dance with a poor person in the ever-expanding perichoresis of the triune God into all of creation.  So it's not God excluding some; it's Jesus merely telling it how it is- that other people make this decision for themselves.  They'd rather be alone, separated out, "in hell" (as eternal separation from God, which also fully means eternal separation from each other), than hang out with people who are "beneath" them.

There are countless other interpretations, but these are some of the more common ones I've heard preached.  Perhaps you have heard other interpretations.  On the megachurch, mega-voice side, I immediately think of David Platt, who addresses the money issue, and Rob Bell, who addresses the eternal life issue (though I've been contemplating the contrast of heaven-bound wealthy believers who think Gandhi is in hell, versus heaven-bound poor who think those rich people who just do lip-service to a prayer/creed and then get dunked for posterity will go to hell, verses Rob Bell claiming that "love wins," versus those millions of Reformed Christians who have been saying for centuries that salvation has always been the act of God in Jesus rather than our own initiative through proclamation of faith/baptism- see predestination....but I digress).

I have been giving thought to the question: "What does it mean to love all people (even those with whom we don't get along)?"  I've addressed the class warfare that seems to dominate the news right now, and the entire soul of Fox News.  There's little that upsets me as much as wealthy people, often those who self-identify as Libertarian, claiming that the poor should rightfully die out of the gene pool and how offering care for these people is not only unnatural, but ungodly.  Yes, we should love the poor, and that involves care for the poor.  It's hard to be a Christian (perhaps as hard as a camel going through the eye of a needle?) and not acknowledge that Jesus talked about care for the poor a whole lot.  Of course, Jesus also addressed money a whole lot.  Thus, we find ourselves at this passage above about how hard it is for a wealthy politician, I mean person, to enter the kingdom of God. 

Does God call us to love wealthy people?  Yesss...I guess.  Does that involve care for them?  Okay, sounds good.  Does that lead to more tax-breaks for the wealthy?  Ummm....not so sure about that.  So what does "care" look like?  A poor musician playing free wedding gigs for people who would otherwise be paying $150/hr per musician and who already paid a ridiculous sum of money for that obnoxious ice sculpture and chocolate fondue fountain?  No...absolutely not.  I can easily take that stand.

So what is care?  Grieving beside someone, regardless of income, investments, 401k's, when their loved one is dying?  Sharing food at the same table, no matter how humble the table?  Inviting people to community events over and over, even though they refuse to come because they think it's somehow beneath them?  Showing they are needed?  Bringing them into the cycle of healing?  Helping them learn to accept care for themselves from others?  Redistributing all the money in this world?  How we answer this question, "what is care," might end up being really important.  It might change how we view care for all people, and not just the wealthy.  I ask this question in my new environment, where international and local missions (in that order) are on the front pages of local magazines.  "We do good work...we care...and we can prove it.  Look- we're in the horn of Africa giving out provisions."  Yes, this is good work, necessarily work.  I'm pretty sure Jesus would all-out approve.  Then again, there's this group of wealthy people in this country who seem hell-bent on introducing some home-wrecking income taxes on the poor when the income for poor people seems to get smaller and smaller, while at the same time lowering taxes on "job creators" (aka-people wealthy enough to own their own businesses in a country where ownership of buildings and capital is perceived as normative but still not all that common when you survey populations) even when doing so in the past didn't result in the kind of job-creation needed. So, while we Christians have Jesus, the scriptures, and a whole long history in the church of care for the poor, I'm still not sure how to care for the rich.  Would Jesus care?  How would Jesus care?  Is this important?  What are the implications for national debate?  Have we simply mislabeled "poor" and "rich" this whole time?  Was Jesus just being "spiritual" about all this?  Is it all self-determination, that what we bind and loose here, we bind and loose in heaven as well?  Do people choose to be rich?

May the debate continue.