Identity

The other day some one said with no small amount of surprise in his voice, "Joel, you are just a regular guy. You are like everyone else." The surprise in his voice stemmed from the fact that I am a pastor, yet apparently I don't act much like one. Guiltily, I flashed-back to my first year of seminary and my first course on Pastoral Care. In one of these classes my professor went around the room and made us each say aloud our name and soon to be earned pastoral title. When it was my turn I proclaimed, "I am Reverend Joel Renkema." It was an awkward moment for me, for all of us, which of course was the point of the exercise. Our professor wanted us to learn to embrace our new pastoral identity, even though it seemed awkward. Only in embracing our pastoral identity could we ever become effective pastors. It reminds me a little of when I first was married. I couldn't stop fidgeting with my wedding ring. I had to suppress a giggle every time I looked at Alison and realized that she was my WIFE and I was now a HUSBAND. Weird. Awkward. Yet I could only hope to be a good husband if and when I fully embraced this identity. I wonder what my pastoral care professor would say to me if he heard that people see me just like some regular guy who is like everyone else. He might shake his head with disappointment that I did not act more pastoral, whatever that looks like. But then again, does embracing an identity really mean that we must change who we are? When I married Alison and became a husband I did not stop being me. In fact I think marriage has made me a better me. I wonder about the ultimate identity we can carry: Christian. The title Christian means different things to different people these days. Even so, we who are Christians, how quick are we to own our identity? It is easy to say, "Jesus Loves Me." But say out loud, "I love Jesus." It is amazing to me, when I think about it, that I can go a week or even a day without saying this out loud. After all it defines who I am as a Christian. It defines who I am period. But how well do I embrace it?

I wonder if why more people don't look at me and other Christians say, "I want to be like that!" is because we don't embrace our identity as fully as we could. I wonder if it is because we treat our faith like a product that we are trying to sell. I think to outsiders Christianity often seems like something we use or something we do. The truth of the matter, however, is that Christianity is who we are. Our faith, our love of Jesus is not a product. It is a relationship. It is an identity. Our world is filled with things to buy. Materials abound for the consumer to attain. Ask any businessperson and they will tell you that it is a competitive, dog eat dog, cutthroat world out there. It is no wonder then that when we turn our faith into another product to sell and begin looking for a consumer demographic that we are going to struggle. There is enough competition out there without Christianity joining the mix of self-help fixes or purchases that bring happiness. But we also live a the most insulated and lonely culture in the history of humanity. Our technology (twitter, email, drive-through pharmacies, etc) makes actual human interaction less important. We live days and miles away from our nearest family. Our world is packed full of lonely people who bump past each other, desperate for relationships. And what identifies us Christians above all else is THE relationship. Perhaps this is our niche.

Gran Torino And Knowing

It has been a long time since I have posted anything on this blog. First a vacation, then business and finally a lack of inspiration have lead to this failing of mine. But, as Ann Lamott, or perhaps it was Stepen King, I can't remember which, stated in a book on writing, you gotta write through the proverbial block or lack of inspiration. So, in an effort to do so I'm turning to a mainstay of mine. Movies. I love movies. I love them because they are stories that I often relate too or because they make me think about an issue. That said, I am in no way a good movie critic. Bad acting, poor directing, abismal scripts and horrendous special effects are not usually things that I notice if I can get into the plot. As a result, some movies I like many others more knowledgeable than myself will abhor.

Recently I have seen two movies that I wish to write about. One I liked very much. The other haunted me. The movie that I absolutely loved was Gran Torino. I would write a bit about it but Blake Heimstra, a much better writer than myself, already has some appropriate thoughts on the movie that I will "paste" here.

The movie, Gran Torino, (in case you haven’t had a chance to see it) featured Clint Eastwood as Walt Kowalski, a Korean War veteran who loses his wife and faces life as a widower living in a neighborhood that is becoming increasingly more ethnic. He’s a cantankerous, crotchety, curmudgeonous old man, proverbially giving the finger to everyone that he comes in contact with, be it the father from his church, his sons or any of the rest of his family. He’s “content” to live out the rest of his days in solitary existence until the Hmong boy next door gets threatened by a gang. Walt knows what’s right and comes to defend the boy, saving him from getting forcibly enmeshed into the gang and even later forgives the boy when he tries to steal Walt’s prized Gran Torino. Thus starts a friendship between Walt and Thao and between Walt and the boy’s family.

What struck us as powerful about the movie was the message about living with purpose. Walt is a bitter, lonely man . . . until he learns to not go through life nursing and feeding his own wounds, but rather living for others. Walt teaches Thao how to work and how to be a man and cares for him as his own son. Walt learns that life isn’t worth living unless it’s lived for something more than himself. This gradual shift from lonely, embittered war veteran to surrogate father moves Walt to become the family’s protector to (Warning: plot spoiler) ultimately giving his own life so that the family’s life can endure in peace, infringed not by gangs or violence.

Watching the movie reminded me why I love the Christian mind and the idea of being in the world but not of it. This is the type of movie that Roy Anker would love to discuss in a film class at Calvin. It’s far, far, far from being considered a Christian movie. Eastwood’s use of the English language tends much closer to the sailor end of the spectrum rather than the saint, though some of the cussing is remarkably creative. It is, however, filled with a theme that’s been infused in the greatest stories the world has known in the last 1000 years: sacrifice. Just as the Author of the greatest sacrifice the world has ever seen showed us, life is about sacrificing for others. Through the sacrifice of one, others live. It’s the greatest story ever told, and the gospel just seems to reverberate when watching a story life this, when the raw power and emotion of true sacrifice pulses through a film and gives it life.

The other movie I saw that haunted me was "Knowing." This movie (spoiler alert) is about an MIT astrophysicist who happens upon a code written 50 years earlier by a young girl. Upon breaking the code he realizes that it reveals the date, location and death toll of every major disaster over the past 50 years. However, 3 series of numbers, 3 disasters have not yet occurred. The astrophysicist played by Nicholas Cage, desperately tries to find ways to stop these things from happening. He fails in the first two cases. The third case turns out to be the end of the world. Cage figures it out and hopelessly screams out "What is the point of my knowing the end is coming and not being able to stop it?" At the heart of this movie lies the question of free will verses determinism. How much of our fate is determined and how much is a free choice. The conclusion, is both. Some things, like the end of the world are determined and there is nothing one can do about it. But, how one meets this fate is free choice. This movie also uses much Christian imagery. Cage is the son of a pastor and he has turned on his faith. There are creepy white-haired men who appear often and they turn out to be alien like angels protecting the "Chosen." The chosen turn out to be people who can "hear." Of course this reminds me of Jesus' words in the bible where he says "Those who have ears, let them hear." These "Chosen" are rescued by the aliens from the earth just before it is destroyed by the fire of a solar flare. The Chosen are then deposited on a new planet, each pair carrying a pair of animals...kind of like a Noah's ark type of concept. As the final song plays and the screen dims the chosen are seen running through a field up to a massive and beautiful tree, which I can only assume is meant to be the tree of life.

As a mentioned, it is a movie laden with Christian imagery. In itself the movie is poorly acted and somewhat over the top and not very well produced. I mentioned that this movie haunted me. It haunted me because it forced me to think of the end. After the movie was done I sat on my new couch in my new house and stared at my newly painted walls and my newly installed carpet and I realized that I was living my life like it would never end. I was making plans for the future, assuming I would be around until I am a grandpa 50 years from now. I had grown comfortable with my life, with this world. The reality is that this is not our home. The reality is that life on this world is not something we should become too comfortable with. We shouldn't live like there are going to be a million tomorrows. As I thought about this Nicholas Cage's frustrated question came back to me, "What is the point of knowing the end is coming and not being able to do anything about it?" I think the point isn't that we have to stop the end from coming. The point in knowing that the end is coming is to get ready for it. To get others ready for it. We Christians know the end can happen at anytime, it will come like a thief in the night. We need to get ourselves and our community ready for that. That is point of knowing. The point is not to get too attached to these perishable things and this temporary life. The point is to point to others that there is more to life than just this life. The point is to know that the end isn't the end, but the beginning. So, thanks Nick Cage for your bad acting. It haunts me, as well as your question haunts me. I hope it never ceases to haunt me.

Two Burritos

Today I brought my paycheck to the bank. As I waited for the teller to do whatever bank tellers do behind their crenelated counters, I looked out the window and saw a homeless man in a wheel-chair roll himself into some shade and hoist himself down to the grass of one of those "parking lot islands." I was struck by the irony of the situation. Here I was coolly handing over hundreds of dollars in a comfortable building and not 40 yards away was a man sweating in the noon sun with a card board sign asking for food. I left the bank, got measured for a suit and stopped at a fast food restaurant for a quick lunch. This is when something weird happened. I ordered two meals. The weird thing was that I didn't intend to buy two. The words came out as if from elsewhere and then there I stood holding two burritos. Holding the burritos in a numb confusion I remembered what I had read earlier that day, "If you have two cloaks, give one to the poor." So I found the homeless man in the parking lot and sat with him for lunch.

I must say that I hesitate in sharing this story because I do not in anyway wish to present a story that might make me seem more righteous than I really am. In fact I share this story as a way of showing just how unholy my thoughts and feelings were concerning this whole burrito event. Perhaps you might relate to my experience.

There must have been at least 45 minutes between the time I saw the homeless man and the time I bought the lunch. Those 45 minutes where chock full of moral debate. I could not shake the man from my thoughts. I had finally convinced myself that buying the man lunch would not do any good anyway and giving him money would only enable his current life style so there was nothing I could do. After all, "The poor will always be among us." Right? Cold logic and reason insulated me from this man's poverty. I sinned against him. That is when I suddenly found myself holding two burritos.

Now as I sit here again in my office thinking back on my lunch I wonder why I did it. Why did I bring that man that lunch and then sit with him as we ate together? It certainly was not because I had any illusions about fixing this man's condition. I think I had two reasons for doing what I did.

Unfortunately, the first reason I brought that man lunch was I knew it would make me feel better. I knew it would stroke my conscience to be able to say I brought a lunch to a homeless man. I thought God would be proud of me. Then and there I sinned against the Lord. As if a heartless offering could dupe the Prince of Peace. I suppose that is why 1 Cor 13 says that if we sell all we have and give it to the poor without love it is meaningless.

The second reason I ate lunch with that man I did not discover until I ate with him. As we munched on tortilla chips and chicken burritos a gap was bridged, albeit for just 15 minutes. I longed for contact with that man. I needed to talk to him, eat with him, share with him. Not just for his good, but for my good. I needed his forgiveness. As we ate the lunch became my unspoken but sincere apology and recognition that his poverty was not simply a result of his sin. His poverty was just as much a result of MY sin.

Because of two burritos and a homeless man I understand my own humanity better than I did before. Or perhaps I now see the truth in those famous lyrics, "No Man is an Island." We were created together. We are not independent, but rather are interdependent. As Bishop Desmond Tutu writes, when one of us is dehumanized, we are all dehumanized. The Nazi guards who tortured and killed millions of Jews are frequently described as animals. There is more literal truth in that analogy then we often admit. The more the Nazi's dehumanized their prey the more inhuman they became. In a much more subtle and sophisticated manner, the more we ignore the poor, the more we dehumanize them.... thus the more we become less human. I now understand perhaps a little better why Jesus named the greatest commandment of all to be "Love Your Neighbor as Yourself." Obeying this commandment is at the core of who we are. Obeying this commandment makes us more human, more like the only perfect human - Jesus.

Jesus did say that the poor will always be with/among you. I have always used this text as a rationalization for their existence. I have converted this text into a pillow for my guilty head whenever my consideration for those poorer then myself and what I might do for them gives me a headache. But when I looked at the context for these words Jesus spoke I see that Jesus said them while surrounded by liars and cheats and his feet was being washed by the perfume owned by the village hooker. When you consider his context I don't think Jesus was saying poverty was ok, rather I think he was saying that wherever HE is found there you will find the poor. Wherever grace is found, you will find the poor. My mentor likes to say, "Grace flows downhill and pools in the lowest places." Maybe that is what Jesus was saying.

I never thought I could learn so much from two burritos.

Ordinary Radicals

This week I began reading Shane Claiborne's book, "Irresistible Revolution." I went into the book expecting to like what I was about to read. Instead I found myself disliking nearly everything I read, yet was forced to recognize the undeniable truth borne upon the shoulders of Claiborne's thoughts and convictions. The truth hurt.

I think I now understand a little what the rich young man felt like after his brief conversation with Jesus and Jesus told him to get rid of his wealth and all that makes him comfortable in this world. Sadness.

Sadness, because in that brief conversation that young man's paradigm for a "good-life" was done in. Sadness, because my own paradigm for a good and comfortable life is done in too. Claiborne says that he believes God comforts the disturbed and disturbs the comfortable. I think this is true, and I don't like it.

Someone once said, "The church is the only institution in the world that exists primarily for those not members of it." I showed this quote to some of the pastor's I taught while in the DR. Many embraced the quote immediately. To my surprise, however, more pastor's hated the quote. I don't think this is any different here in America. We like to make church a comfortable environment. A place with people like us, with worship for people like us and sermons directed at people like us. We like church to be like the way we like to read the Bible. We highlight the parts we like so that we can ignore the parts we don't like.

So here is my question and challenge for you. We all know our favorite verse in the Bible. What is your least favorite verse? Why?

For the sake of transparency I will share with you my least favorite verses. They are found in Ezekiel 33.1-9. In this passage God declares that we are watchmen placed in a world to warn it of its impending doom should they not turn to the Lord and repent. I dislike these verses because unless we do this, God places the destruction of the world that does not repent at our feet. If we do not go out of our way to warn the world of their doom, their doom becomes our fault. I hate this because it convicts me. I hate this because it means I must step out of my comfort and warn those who most of the time don't want to be warned anyway. I hate this because I'd rather mind my own business. I hate this because it means my faith requires something of me other than just saying I believe.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a martyr killed by Nazi Germany, wrote about the cost of discipleship. Bonhoeffer claims that any true life of discipleship of Christ will come with its fair share of cost. Avoiding the cost of following Christ, Bonhoeffer says, is a way of cheapening what happened on Golgotha. Avoiding the cost of bearing the name Christian by seeking a more mainstream and comfortable life is a wordless communication to our God that His sacrifice was only good enough to warrant our academic belief or our sentimental connection to Him. But it was not enough to warrant an actual life change on our part. It was not worth an actual paradigm shift in how we life life or do church.

Jesus calls the rich young man to abandon all he has and he will inherit the Kingdom of God. This same is true for us (wow that was even hard for me to write!). In fact this same thing is true for our church here at 1st Visalia. We must abandon our ideas of church, abandon our hopes and dreams of church, give up our stranglehold on how we want church to look like, feel like, sound like, so that our church can participate in the Kingdom of God. What this means, what it looks like, I don't know. Maybe you all know better than I.

Freedom or Responsibility

When I studied at Calvin College there was a topic discussed heatedly among faculty, chanted like a mantra by many and condemned by some. It was the issue of "responsible freedom," a pithy phrase designed to give some sort of moral direction to young students desperately trying to figure out how to live as Christians in a hostile and anti-Christian world. This is a question all of us of The Faith must ask. How do we remain holy, peculiar people in a very unholy and mainstream world?

Is the answer found in living the semi-ascetic lifestyle akin to that of the Amish. Is holiness found in removing ourselves from technology, culture and indeed the world? Should we convert our churches into holy hermitages where we use biblical law like anti-bacterial hand sanitizer to scrub out the temptations that make us sick?

Or is the answer to dive into the world so completely that a spiritual audit of our lives would show that there is nothing particularly peculiar about us at all. We look, smell, talk and act just like our neighbor, just like the TV characters at primetime. We still believe on the inside, but the outside cover art we show the world is rather neutral as to what lies within.

So, where does "responsibility" start and "freedom" end? Are they mutually exclusive or can they coexist?

Psalm 1 touts the importance of obedience in following God. Psalm 150 is all about freedom and abandon found in worship of God. If the book of Psalms is supposed to describe the Christian life and these psalms are the psalter bookends placed there for a reason, what does this tell us?

Perhaps rules and obedience to rules are a way of creating a healthy God glorifying habit/life. But rules and the obedience of them are only the beginning and this form of Christianity/faith must be transcended until a life/habit of freedom and abandon in worship is achieved. Perhaps this is sanctification. Perhaps it isn't about following laws even more to the "T" that makes us a peculiar and holy people. Perhaps it is rather to live a life that transcends simple obedience. I do not suggest that the law becomes unnecessary but rather that obedience to law is no longer the chief concern of faith. Worship as life and the freedom found in it becomes the chief end of faith. We can only worship God as Psalm 150 does, with true freedom and abandon if we have first fully acknowledged the sovereignty of God in our life, which is demonstrated through obedience.

Why? Because more important to God then even our obedience is our happiness. And we can only be happy when we do what we were created to do. And that is to worship our God with abandon and to be free even from the hold of sin and law. Psalm 1 sets us on the road. Psalm 150 shows us a vision of heaven at the roads end.

Purpose of the Blog

The purpose of this blog is rather simple. I hope to use this space as both a place to make notes and ask questions that come to my mind as I confront faith through Scripture, provocative readings, experience and prayer. My desire is that this blog help me organize and communicate my thoughts and feelings as I prepare to write sermons and contemplate visions for ministry. If anyone wants to walk this journey with me I gladly welcome you.

I cannot promise anything profound, life changing or even meaningful. I have no idea what will come from this blog, but I look forward to finding out. I intend to post at the least once a week, perhaps more if I feel the urge. Look for my first official post next week, if you are interested.

Finally, I perhaps should explain my Blog name/title. This comes from Psalm 137.4, which was a theme verse for myself and my ministry partner, Mario Matos, as we worked on a program called EdT in the Dominican Republic. This program sought to equip pastors and lay leaders who live in difficult and painful contexts proclaim God's kingdom to those who are hurting. The main question we had to answer in that program is the one posed by the psalmist in 137.4. In the middle of pain, suffering and affliction how can we continue to sing songs to the Lord? Even though we here in Visalia do not necessarily live in "difficult contexts" we do know very well what a broken life is like. We do understand pain and disappointment and so asking who we can still worship the Lord in this pain remains a valid question for even us. For this reason I chose "Street Psalms" as my blog name. Psalms are the songs we sing as we walk the streets of this foreign world of pain, hurt and disappointment.

I should note that this blog will not try to provide answers. Rather, this blog will try to ask the right questions. It can be that I will pose some possible answers, it is just that I have found that the beautiful answer is ALWAYS preceeded by a beautiful question. My intention is to try and ask these beautiful questions... much like the psalmist did in 137.4

Thanks,
Pastor Joel