The Christian Response to Racism (Part 2 of 2)

In my first part, I attempted to point out how pervasive and systemic racism is in our American culture, and how it has been so from the very founding our our nation. In this part I want to address how it might be possible for us as a nation to move on, past our historic past.

In a sentence: the only way we as a culture will move past racism is to full admit that every race and people can be, and are, racist in our thinking and in our actions. Yes, in America that racism is predominately skewed toward the white race – but it is far from limited to the white race.

In my last post I stressed how critical it is for the white majority to admit our systemic, pervasive racist views. In no way am I suggesting that every white person alive today is guilty of being racist – or for personal guilt in our racist past, for that matter. What I am suggesting is that until we admit that racism can be, and often is, systemic, we will never be able to move to a truly “color neutral” society.

The flip side of that coin is that every person who falls into the “minority” category must admit that their race can be, and almost without exception is, equally racist. It does not take a sociologist to recognize the hatred espoused by the Nation of Islam toward Jews, to mention just one example, or the racism that I see and hear regarding one local tribe of Native Americans to their neighboring tribe. The blatant racism preached by many elected officials in Washington is repugnant, to be honest, but the prevailing culture among the “main stream media” is that it cannot be labeled as “racism” because it originates from an ethnic minority.

So, to be brief, racism is chiefly a human condition, and that condition is sin. Racism in the United States will always be a part of our culture so long as it is only addressed from one side. This is the “dirty little secret” that is rarely, if ever, discussed in conversations regarding racism. But I hold no hope for Martin Luther King’s dream of a nation where a person is judged by the content of their character and not the color of their skin, as long as every action, every word, every thought, is viewed through the lens of the color of the skin of the actor, speaker, or writer.

It is at this point that I feel we as a people have failed the vision of Dr. King. Instead of attacking the concept of racism itself, we have simply shifted what it means to be racist – and I will probably be called a racist for writing that. As much as I recognize the guilt of white Americans in establishing what can only be described as systemic racism, I simply refuse to accept the accusation – either expressed or implied – that only whites can be racist.

I repeat – racism is a part of the human condition, and that is sin. Racism is a theological problem, not just a political or sociological problem. Until racism is attacked from the point of view of the cross and the gospel, it will never be adequately addressed. And it is exactly at this point that I believe so many religious leaders have failed. We think that if we can write a couple of new laws, or hold some “unity” meetings, or have a couple of marches, all will be well. Well, it is not ever going to be “well” unless and until preachers start preaching on the sin of racism – in every possible way, shape, and form. In predominately white churches those sermons are going to sound different than sermons preached in minority churches (because the visible forms of that racism are different), but it is only at the foot of the cross that we are going to be able to move into a truly color neutral society.

[By the way, I never want to live in a “color blind” society. I do not want African-Americans to give up their African roots, nor do I want to Latin Americans to give up their Latin roots, or Asians to give up their Oriental roots, or Irish Americans to give up their Irish roots. That is not what the American dream is all about – for me it is about maintaining those ethnic and social connections while at the same time blending in with every other culture. When it works, it is a beautiful thing, and I believe it is the highest of aspirations for every American.]

I must also address a phenomenon that repulses me as much as overt racism – and that is the false or pseudo guilt promoted by so many white politicians. They “claim” to be genuinely concerned for the plights of minorities, and yet with every law that is passed and every speech that is uttered, those to whom they claim sympathy are further degraded. Consider the results of programs such as welfare. What was thought to be assistance to mothers with dependent children, has instead created a permanent under-class of families with no father in the picture. Every study ever conducted has proven that children in fatherless homes fare far poorer than families in the same socio-economic class where there is a father present. Yet, to challenge the idea of welfare is considered to be the greatest of racist “sins.” Here again we see how racist whites can be – all in the guise of helping to overcome racism.

A personally vexing related question for me is this: what action, or series of actions, will constitute an adequate confession of our racist past? How many times, and in what ways, will the white majority have to admit to our sinful past? I ask this because I am honestly ignorant as to the answer. It is clear to me that a significant minority – if not a majority – of white Americans still have not come to grips with the enormity of the problem of racism. So, if that is true, what is the goal to which we should be moving? And how will we know when we get there?

I titled these couple of posts a “Christian Response to Racism” and I fear I have not proposed much of a solution. For me, the only answer is to preach Christ and him crucified. When we stand at the foot of the cross and realize the depth of our sin, we in no way will be able to judge another person simply based on the color of their skin or their nation of origin. It is because we refuse to accept the Lordship of Christ that we are racist – and to deny that is to reject the Holy Spirit who makes us all one in Christ. In the words of the Book of Common Prayer, we are all “miserable offenders.” We can all be “blessed forgiven,” but we are all going to have to confess our guilt first.

Lord, save us from our miserable failure!

The Christian Response to Racism (Part 1 of 2)

I have often thought of broaching the subject of racism and Christianity, but I have always ultimately shied away. This was not because of a lack of interest, or because I thought the subject unimportant, but I never really felt like I had an adequate entry point to fully express my thoughts. That changed recently, and so I want to express some thoughts that I know will offend just about everyone – and I know that because these thoughts first offended me.

First, I need to acknowledge that this opening thought is not my original thinking. It was brought to my attention by an old colleague, one whose insights I trust greatly. I will personalize it, however.

It has always been somewhat of a mystery to me how the German people (as a whole, I’m generalizing) can either deny or minimize the horror of the holocaust. This is not true of every German citizen, to be sure, but even today the account of what happened to Jews, Gypsies, Poles, and other “undesirables” is largely muted in German culture. Like I said, I have always wondered about this, as it seems to me that (a) the Nazi regime was such a deviation from the norms of German society, and that (b) the present German culture is so different from that time period, that it would be cathartic for Germans to acknowledge the atrocities of that one decade and vow that it would never happen again. I can totally understand the fear that making such acknowledgment would foster copy-cats who want to defend Hitler (and this is exactly what happens!), but I have felt that once the enormity of the evil is squarely admitted, it would simply be unthinkable that any subsequent culture would want to replicate Hitler and his minions. As a whole, I think most Americans would agree. Admit the horror, recognize that Nazism was an abhorrent aberration to German culture, create the appropriate safeguards that would prevent such atrocities from occurring again, and move on.

Now that we are all on the same page, substitute “Jew” with “Black” or “African” or “Native Indian” and see how your expression changes. You see, in America the white majority has no problem admitting to the sin of Germany. But, when confronted with the reprehensible treatment of our ancestors toward ethnic minorities, all such confessionalism flies out the window. We become defensive, belligerent, dismissive, and even delusional in denying the racism that was, and in some quarters remains, systemic in our culture.

This parallel between Nazi Germany from 1933-1945 and our own American “holocaust” (the term is not perfectly identical, but comes close) is what is particularly troubling to me. If the white majority in America cannot admit to the sins of our fathers, we will never be able to admit to our own sins in regard to racism, and therefore the scourge will never be adequately removed. It is not so much that whites deny the reality of slavery, it is that the concept that whites are superior to blacks (and other ethnic minorities) is so enshrined in our legal system and in our public theology. It is, as I said, systemic, not anecdotal. The beast is not a symptom, but it is the root cause, of so much of what afflicts America today.

Consider this: there is a pining today for America to return to the glory days of the  1950s (or there-about) when God was welcome in the schools and the Pledge of Allegiance was recited with passion. Well, God may have been welcome in most white schools, but blacks were forcefully kept out of the classrooms, sometimes at the point of a rifle! We were not “one nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all.” We were divided legally by race, and justice was only for whites. But it did not stop there. Blacks were not welcome in most white churches, either. It was not just lunch counters and bathrooms that were segregated, but God’s covenant people were clearly divided along lines of color.

I cannot stress this fact enough: this was not just a matter of public opinion. This segregation had the force of law – it was enshrined in the very fabric of our legal system. Blacks could be, and were, lynched for the “crime” of following too closely or inappropriately staring at a white woman. Blacks who were arrested were tried by all white juries. It is not just that the laws were written to protect white privilege, but the implementation of those laws was so skewed to white privilege that a black person (or Indian, for that matter) had no effective recourse. It was this pervasive, systemic inequality that reformers such as Martin Luther King Jr. reacted to so passionately.

And, just as with so many Germans who choose to look past their Nazi past, it is this pervasive, systemic racism that so many white Americans choose to blithely ignore or actively seek to repress.

A common sentiment expressed today is, “Well, that may have been true 100 years ago, but I do not own any slaves, so I cannot be held responsible for my ancestors.” On one level this may be true, but who among us can honestly deny the the effects of this skewed legal system do not continue to affect American culture? Consider the inequality of inner-city schools with the same level of school in the affluent (largely white) suburbs. We excuse our behavior with the suburbs have a higher tax base, so therefore the schools have a deeper revenue source. So, who created the inequality of the tax base? Our tax tables are just another way in which white privilege is enshrined in our legal system. Scoff if you will, but the idea that “all men are created equal” in this culture is just a myth. We may be “created” equal, but the location of one’s birth – even by just a few city blocks – can have enormous consequences for how two babies are housed, educated, and treated in regard to health care and even the legal system.

I was genuinely repulsed as I sat and listened to a dear friend of mine recount how he was pulled over by a white police officer for the crime of “driving while black.” He was in the wrong neighborhood, driving a nice car, so he had to be up to no good. Why is it that black men have to tell their sons (and daughters) how to respond to police officers in ways that I will never have to explain to my daughter? That reality sickens me.

Until this reality is squarely admitted, and permanently and forcefully changed, America will never be a Christian nation. It never has been. And to argue otherwise is plain heresy.

That having been said, we in America have a foundation that will allow us to overcome our past, and to safeguard our future. It is the same safeguard that provided Germany with the strength to overcome the Nazi propaganda, had they chosen to implement it. It is the power of the gospel – the power to fully and totally submit to the grace of our Creator God. It is the power of the crucified and risen Christ. And as far as humans are concerned, it begins with an honest confession that our forefathers have sinned, and we share in that sin to the extent that we perpetuate the systemic sin that they created. The question is, will we have the courage to allow that power to change us?

In part 2, I will examine a corollary issue related to this post. But, I think I have said enough for today.

Definitions – “Church”

The word “church” illustrates what has to be one of the greatest, yet possibly most misunderstood, issues in dealing with translation and interpretation processes – some words can obtain such significant (and unintended) secondary meanings that the primary meaning is often obscured or completely erased. It happens frequently (the word “baptize” is another example) and the results can be profound. There is, however, a simple remedy (I like simple – I specialize in simple – I am simple minded).

The derivation of the word “church” is complex – I will leave it to the reader to search the internet for the history of the word. For this space suffice it to say that the word comes to us from the Greek via the Latin and German and thence to the Old English, and ultimately to the King James Version and thus to virtually every English translation. However, the great-grandparent in Greek is really just a very simple word that means “assembly.” For proof of this consider Acts 19:32, 39, and 41 – where the word is used to describe a near riot, a political/judicial meeting, and an large gathering of people (the same riotous group found in v. 32).

First, a little history. When the Hebrew Old Testament was translated into Greek, there were two words that could be used for the idea of assembly, and sometimes congregation. One is the word from which we get our synagogue, the other was ekklesia. By the time of the first century, the word synagogue had a secondary meaning attached – the specific meeting place of Jews. The other word, ekklesia, did not acquire this “theological” freight, and therefore was the natural word for the authors of the New Testament to use in order that the New Testament assembly of Christians would not be confused with the Old Covenant meeting of Jews. (Significant note: the word synagogue IS used in James 2:2 in reference to a Christian assembly – the word is actually translated instead of being transliterated – which just goes to prove my point by way of a different direction.) There is no “Holy Spirit” meaning attached to the Greek word ekklesia – the word that ultimately ends up being translated as “church” in our English translations.

The problem is that the English word “church” has become so overloaded with theological, confessional, and even denominational freight as to be almost useless. To a Roman Catholic the word refers to the entire Magisterium of the Roman Catholic Church. To many Protestants, the word refers to the “invisible” church which would include believers of every stripe, color, and description (never mind that many of the creeds that define these groups are diametrically opposed to one or more of the others). To a great many others, the word “church” simply refers to a building – “. . . bye mom, I’m going to the church to play some basketball . . . ” (which, sadly calls for another blog post, but that will have to wait).

What is my simple solution? Let’s retire the word “church” to a nice pasture somewhere where it can live out its remaining days in peace and tranquility, and replace it with the idea for which it was originally intended to convey, and that is “assembly,” “gathering,” or perhaps even “congregation” (although, even that last option comes with some extraneous meanings attached).

Notice, just one simple (that word again) example that has some fairly significant hermeneutical implications. In the modern worship wars over the “role” of women, one problematic text is 1 Corinthians 14. As simply (arrrgh) as I can explain it, the argument is that because Paul seemingly allows women to pray in public in 11:1-16, the apparent prohibition against women speaking in chapter 14 must be modified in some form or fashion (either softening it, or by eliminating it altogether). But this interpretation falls apart when it is recognized that Paul makes a significant change in 11:17 – prior to v. 17 there is no mention of a public gathering at all (the reference in v. 16 to churches of God is a rebuttal to the Corinthian view that theirs is the preferred practice!) But at v. 17 Paul starts talking about the public assembly of the Corinthian Christians – in chapter 11 his topic is that of the Lord’s Supper. In chapter 14 he continues with the assembly language, but this time in regard to manifestations of the Spirit – notably the speaking in tongues. Consider the following –

14:4 – the one who speaks to the assembly must do so for the edification of the people assembled.
14:5 – interpretation of tongues is necessary for the edification of the assembly.
14:12 – the gifts of the Spirit are to build up the assembly.
14:19 – Paul would rather speak five intelligible words in the assembly than ten thousand unintelligible words.
14:23 – when the whole assembly comes together . . .
14:26 – when you come together (the word ekklesia is not used here).
14:28 – if there is no interpreter in the assembly, let the tongue speaker be silent.
14:33 – as is the customary practice in every assembly of the saints.
14:34 – the women are to remain silent in the assembly.
14:35 – for it is shameful for a woman to speak in the assembly.

In every verse listed above (except for v. 26) the word ekklesia is used for the idea of assembly or gathering. The argument made by egalitarians (those arguing for complete equality of women in public worship) is that Paul establishes his basic teaching in chapter 11, and only modifies it in chapter 14 to limit obnoxious or unruly women taking over the worship. As I said, this argument cannot be sustained because (a) Paul never mentions the appropriateness of women praying in the public assembly in chapter 11; and (b) he repeatedly and specifically ties his teaching, which includes the limitation of women speaking (and therefore exercising authority over men) in chapter 14 to the assembly of the Christians! This is in perfect agreement with his teaching in 1 Timothy 2:12. The entire discussion changes significantly if we eliminate the heavily freighted (and therefore susceptible to twisting) concept of “church” with the very simple (arrrgh) usage of the word assembly.

There really is nothing wrong with the word, “church,” if we understand it as it was intended. But, the meanings of words change, and what was understood 200 or more years ago is frequently not the meaning of the word today. Try this experiment – every time you read the word “church” in your English Bible, substitute the word “assembly” and see if the meaning is not clarified – or at least a richer meaning is thereby provided (yes, even Matthew 16:18!).

Lord, Deliver Me From Little Prayers

Have you noticed how prayer has been cheapened, belittled, trivialized? And that from those who should be holding it in the highest honor? I mean, in the Bible when people entered into God’s throne room with a request or a challenge, things happened. Mighty things. The dead were raised, nations fell, the waters parted, and enemies died. Prayer was awesome, and changed individual lives as well as the course of history.

Now, we use prayer to start football games. Really? How many of you have heard the language or the epithets being spewed on the field, or from the sidelines? Or we start some meeting in which God’s will doesn’t stand a chance of being heard – let alone of being obeyed. Or really big things like starting and stopping our “worship services.” I remember the first time someone dismissed a service with a song instead of a prayer. It took a full fifteen or more seconds before it dawned on people that he actually said, “we are dismissed.” It felt like we were cheated. Not that a closing prayer changed anything really, its just that if nobody prayed for God to “guide, guard and direct us until we meet again,” would we really be guided, guarded and protected until we met again?

All of this came flooding into my thoughts this week. I am preaching a series on (of all things) prayer. This week’s lesson crystalized into a topic I titled, “When Prayer Seems to Fail.” When everything was all thought out, I realized that the biggest reason why it seems that prayer fails is that we have utterly and totally gutted what it means to pray.

We pray to a god that is really, in the long run, just too small to do anything about what we are praying for – if he even cared. We mouth the words, but our heart is saying, “I know this is futile, but Christians are told to pray, so here goes.” In my work as a hospice chaplain I heard on many, many occasions the wonderfully faithful saying, “well, we’ve done all we can do – all that’s left is prayer.” How many times have you heard it? How many times have you said it? All we can do is pray – as a form of resignation to the inevitable, not as an entry into the palace of the one who created the world from nothing.

Or, we use prayer as a bully stick. We have no intention of changing our thoughts or actions, but our little god sure needs to straighten out our relative, or friend, or spouse, or child. So we whip out the ol’ “put ’em on the straight and narrow” prayer and then if our relative, friend, spouse, or child doesn’t change – well its that little god’s fault, not mine, because I prayed.

Or we put our little god in a Republican or Democrat or American or conservative or liberal box, and every prayer is viewed as a way for that special interest group to achieve power and prestige. I know many may tire of my Dietrich Bonhoeffer stories, but there is one anecdote that always puts a lump in my throat. He was asked, on at least one, but apparently several occasions, what would happen if the world were to fall into another world war. He said that if that event were to happen, he would pray for Germany to be defeated so that Christianity could survive. I don’t know about you, but I do not know many Americans who could, and would, pray for a foreign nation to defeat us in a war so that Christianity could survive. For many of us, Americanism is Christianity, and we cannot see any difference.

I can’t even begin to identify the irony of that concept.

Or, we pray perhaps what has become my default prayer – the complaint. This year I started keeping a record of my prayers, and after a couple of months I went back and reviewed them. It was the pathetic record of a whiny little toddler. “God, this is not right, fix this, stop this, make that happen, give me this, and give it to me now.” It was nothing but pure, unadulterated narcissism. I had completely rewritten Scripture – “Lord, not thy will, but mine be done.”

I’m sick, I’m tired, I want to be done with little prayers.

In no way do I want to suggest we should not take our cares and concerns to God – he tells us to take our cares and concert to him, and to do so relentlessly. But I just want to be done with the whiny little narcissistic, vindictive prayers that has become the staple of so much of our common culture. I want to have the faith of the psalmists who were so utterly and totally convinced of the righteousness of their position that they could honestly demand God to hear them – and to act on His promises. I want to be a part of a church that when it prays, the walls shake and everyone is empowered by the Holy Spirit to go out and speak the word of God – after having been specifically told by the legal authorities not to do so! (Acts 4:23f)

Have you ever stopped to consider that our prayers could be repugnant to God? Three times in the book of Jeremiah, God specifically tells the prophet not to pray for his people. “Just stop – don’t do it, because I won’t listen anyway.” (see Jeremiah 7:16, 11:14, 14:11) Repeatedly in the other prophetic books God tells his people that their worship – specifically commanded by God – is repugnant to him and he has ceased to pay any attention to their sacrifices or prayers.  (Isa. 1:10-17; Hosea 8:11-13; Amos 5:21-24; Micah 6:6-8; Malachi 2:13-17; by no means a complete list)

I have heard the statement that America needs to turn back to God so many times it has become a cliche. While it would be wonderful if America turned to God (the word “back” is problematic, seeing as how for so much of our history we have rejected his basic ethical requirements), I am more concerned that the church turn to God. And maybe the first step in transforming the church into what Christ intended it is for its members to regain the sense of praying big prayers.

I confess – I am so guilty. But I am just tired of praying and hearing little prayers to a little god that are focused on my petty little wants and temper tantrums.

Lord, deliver me from little prayers!

Disciples and the Lord’s Prayer

(Spoiler alert: due to the amount of material to cover, today’s post will be longer than normal)

Can a disciple pray the Lord’s Prayer (model prayer) as given in Matthew 6 and Luke 11? While I do not ever remember specifically being told I could not pray the prayer, I have heard many sermons and discussions where the conclusion is that at least with one phrase it is inappropriate to do so. That phrase is “Your kingdom come.” Because within the Churches of Christ the kingdom has been associated with the church, and because the church was established on the day of Pentecost in A.D. 30 (or thereabouts), it is no longer necessary to pray for God to establish his kingdom.

This discussion came up again recently. It got me to thinking – where in the New Testament is the kingdom of God specifically connected to the church? Because that claim is so frequently made, I felt intuitively that there must be some manner in which the two are related. I decided to research the matter and find out myself. So I pulled out my Greek concordance and looked up the word for “kingdom.”

All 157 references. I put my project down and decided that someone else should do the heavy lifting. But, after a while I came back to the question. So, I put on a pot of coffee, pulled out my tablet full of yellow sheets of paper, and started reading and jotting notes.

To cut to the chase (for those who do not want to wade through the following) – yes, I believe that a disciple not only can pray the Lord’s Prayer, but actually should pray the Lord’s prayer – including the debated phrase. To defend my conclusion I offer the following three arguments:

(1)  After reading each of the 157 uses of the word “kingdom,” I could not find a single passage that definitively linked the concept of kingdom to the church. What I did discover is that there is not one single concept that covers every use of the word. In fact, I discovered at least 8: this is purely my own classification and you might find more or fewer. To summarize as briefly as possible –

(a) The use in Jesus’s parables (26 occurrences*, including parallels). Here Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is like . . . ” I just could not discover where the word “church” could be interchanged without some serious distortion.

(b) The reign, or rule of God (39 occurrences). Included in this group would be passages such as “seek first the kingdom of God” and Jesus’s teaching that his kingdom is not of this world. While it might be argued that the word church could be interchanged in a couple of these references, the use would be strained at best.

(c)  References to a future “inheriting” of the kingdom (38 occurrences). Illustrative here would be the thief’s request, “remember me when you come into your kingdom,” and Paul’s statement that “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom.” These statements just do not make sense if you insert the word “church” instead of kingdom.

(d)  Of special note are the references to the kingdom being “near” or “at hand” or “among you” (31 occurrences). This is how John the Baptist, Jesus, and the apostles all started their preaching. Jesus taught on several occasions that children already constitute part of the kingdom, and in the beatitudes he used the present tense, “theirs is the kingdom of heaven/God.”**

(e) and (f)  Two very closely related groups are references to the “gospel” or “good news” of the kingdom (7 occurrences), and the proclamation of the kingdom (11 occurrences). To be honest, I had never really noticed the idea of the “gospel” of the kingdom – but by combining these two groups you get a significant number of references to the kingdom as being the subject of the early church’s preaching and teaching. Once again, it strains the meaning of the word if you insert the word “church” here – Jesus did not preach the good news of the church, nor did Paul preach the church. He specifically told the Corinthians he preached only Christ and him crucified.

(g)  There are a number of references (19 by my count) where the word simply refers to a human, or in a couple of references, Satan’s kingdom. These clearly cannot refer to the church.

(h) And, finally, I discovered 8 occurrences in which the word “church” could be interchanged with “kingdom” and the meaning would not be too seriously changed. Significant here would be Jesus teaching that unless one be born of water and Spirit he/she cannot enter the kingdom of God (John 3:3-5), and Paul telling the Colossian disciples that God has called them from darkness into the kingdom of his beloved Son (1:13). I did not find any passage that demanded the equivalency, but these at the very least allowed for it.

(2)  Very closely related to the above argument, the fact is the church is just one very small aspect of the kingdom of God. The church is the body of Christ – of that there can be no argument. But, here again, can the body of Christ on earth be described as the entirety of the kingdom of God? And, is every church (congregation) purely under the reign of God? It could be argued that the congregation in Laodicea was outside of the rule of God – they had nothing of which Christ was pleased. He was outside of the church, seeking admission. If you want to argue that the “kingdom” is the invisible, ethereal concept of the “church” then you are changing the limits of the discussion, and I could just as well argue that the entire universe has always been, is now, and will always be the “kingdom” of God. It does no good to argue speculative concepts when we only have flesh and blood congregations by which to measure the fullness of the “kingdom,” if indeed the words are interchangeable.

(3)  While Jesus gave his “model” prayer while he was still alive (and thus before the establishment of the church), the gospel accounts were not written down for three or so decades after the day of Pentecost, therefore the gospel writers were writing to teach their churches what Jesus wanted them to know. Because prayer is such a significant part of the disciples’ life, they recorded Jesus’s words regarding how to pray. And a major part of that prayer was the request that God’s kingdom be established on earth as well as in heaven. If Matthew and Luke deemed it necessary for the Christians in the first century to pray for the coming of God’s kingdom (long after the day of Pentecost) then I see no compelling reason that disciples today cannot pray the same prayer.

So, if it is perfectly acceptable (and in my opinion, expected) for the disciple to pray for the kingdom of God to come, why was it ever suggested that we cannot pray the model prayer? The best answer that I can come up with is the early Restoration Movement leaders’ utter contempt for the Roman Catholic Church. If there was a practice supported by the Roman Church, and that practice did not have a specific “book, chapter, and verse” to support it, then it was attacked ruthlessly by the early Restoration leaders. One practice that was, and still is, central to the worship of the Catholic Church is the recitation of the Lord’s prayer. By casting aspersion against the phrase invoking the coming of the kingdom of God, the early Restoration leaders could eliminate the recitation of the entire prayer (that, and the claim that doing so was using “vain and repetitious words”). I cannot guarantee that is the reason – but it is the only one that makes sense to me. This is especially significant in light of the fact that there is no passage in the New Testament which clearly equates the church and the kingdom.

Can we, and should we, pray the Lord’s model prayer? Absolutely! There is no scriptural reason against it, and every reason to do so. The church has come – to be sure. But, let us pray, and pray fervently, that God’s reign will be manifest throughout this bent and broken world.

*If you add up all these occurrences you will have a number that exceeds 157. That is because many occurrences can fit into more than one category. This is not a scientific study – it is just me trying to get a grasp on a very large and complex subject.

**In Matthew the phrase is almost always “kingdom of heaven.” Matthew accounts for one-third of the references to the kingdom (54 out of 157), and there are only 5 times where he uses the phrase “kingdom of God.” This is usually explained as his Jewish reluctance to use the word “God” for fear of using God’s name inappropriately. For whatever reason, it is obvious that he prefers the word “heaven” to speak of God’s reign and dominion.

Why I Write

I was trying to figure out why I have this blog. In no particular order, here is what I came up with:

  1. I write for myself – to think “out loud” so to speak. I write to tease ideas and to make them seem a little more concrete. I write to clarify ideas that are swimming around in the molasses that constitutes my brain. So, probably more than any other reason, I write for me.
  2. Sometimes I write because I have a real burr under my saddle. Something has become a burning issue, and I cannot get rid of it until I pontificate on it and let everyone know just how much I have cornered the market on the truth of a matter. Judging from my responses, that rarely happens; but hey, that is the reader’s loss, not mine. (Snark).
  3. Occasionally I write because I have read what some other doofus has written, and it irked me. I never mention these doofuses (doofi?) by name in order to protect their doofusness. For the most part I can overlook a lot of ignorance and posturing. But, sometimes, enough is enough.
  4. Sometimes I write to generate a conversation. Rarely happens. This blog is scrupulously ignored by millions of devoted readers.
  5. I write because I am a frustrated author. Real writing – as in preparing a manuscript for publication by a reputable publisher – is brutally difficult. I would like to get my dissertation (appropriately edited, that is) published, and I have probably two or three other manuscript ideas floating around in my head. I am stymied by two intractable barriers: one, I doubt anyone would be interested in reading (therefore purchasing) what I would write, and two, I’m a perfectionist, and I’m not sure I could ever say what I want to say as perfectly as I want to say it. In this blog my imperfections reign supreme.

So, in a few words, that is why I write. Do you write? If so, why?

An Easter Morning Meditation

Being a minister (preacher) and dreading Easter might sound like a kid who dreads Christmas. Who could possibly dread the biggest day of the Christian calendar? Who in his right mind would just as soon stay in bed during the day that so many others have been looking forward to for at least 40 days, if not a majority of the year? What preacher would just like to ask for a day off on the day when the pews are more likely to be filled than for any other day (except Mother’s Day, but don’t get me started on that one)?

Me.

Mind you, I am not against remembering Jesus’s resurrection. It’s just that I do it every week – on the Lord’s day. And I am not one of those cranky misfits who preaches on the resurrection on or about December 25, and on the birth of Jesus while everyone else is thinking about Easter eggs. I may be a knuckle-dragging troglodyte, but I’m not THAT obtuse.

It’s just all the hype, all the hoopla, all the build up. How many batters hit a home run in the bottom of the ninth with two outs and runners on the corners? It might happen every once in a while, but to expect it to happen every time is just ridiculous. But every year the same thing happens – everybody gets all gussied up and excited because “today we remember the resurrection of Jesus.”

I don’t remember ever forgetting it, but never mind.

It occurred to me this week as I was preparing for yet another bottom-of-the-ninth-with-two-outs plate appearance that the first witnesses of the empty tomb were anything other than what we have traditionally pictured them. We all want to picture them jumping with joy, bursting out with eleven choruses of “Up From The Grave He Arose” while clutching their Easter lilies and then scurrying off to their feast of ham and mashed potatoes. (They were Jews, so I don’t think that part happened, but never mind)

But, with the exception of Mary, I just do not see much euphoria or the passing out of chocolate covered eggs. The apostles, for the most part, were confused, disoriented, and even afraid. They knew the tomb was empty, and they were amazed and “marveled,” – but even when Jesus showed up behind locked doors they didn’t really catch on. Fear was more of the emotion of the day, far from frolicking.

We have come to transfer our feelings of euphoria and triumphalism onto the first witnesses – but if you read the gospel accounts carefully and by trying to see that first Sunday through the eyes of those first few observers, we see a very different picture. That first “Lord’s Day” was a great day of victory as seen from the perspective of heaven (and what would eventually become the view of Christians of all ages), but that first, “First Day of the Week” was actually one of confusion, anxiety, and – not to overuse a word – amazement.

So, just like a bazillion other preachers have done, and will do, I will stand and preach another resurrection lesson this morning. I just wish that for once we would come into the auditorium with a feeling of wonder, of dread, of amazement, of confusion, of doubt, and maybe even of fear. We are just far too glib, too triumphalist on this day every year. Maybe that is why our churches are so full every Easter, and are becoming so empty for the other 50 Sundays (Mother’s Day excepted, see above). People like base clearing home runs. Very few stay to cheer the crew sweeping up the popcorn.

I may be the only preacher who will admit this – but I’ll say it anyway: I just do not care for Easter Sunday.