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.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, May 15, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, May 8, 2009
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
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
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