If you were going to invent a religion, what would you include?
Probably you'd begin with devotion: we humans have a need to worship, pray, and maybe offer expressions of sacrifice to the deity.
Probably you would add some kind of divine revelation. A seer, sage, or prophet can speak on behalf of the deity, offering words of wisdom to address the human condition.
No doubt you would incorporate teachings about morals and ethics. Any decent religion requires its adherents to love one another, to promote justice for all, and to live their lives in the light of high standards embodied by the deity.
Would you also include the notion of the deity becoming human? Most religionists would think it outlandish to profane the life of the spirit like that.
Here are your instructions. Take out two pens, one red and the other blue. Read through this edition of The Outlook, underlining everything you like with the blue pen and everything you don't like with the red. Then compare the blue-marked words with the red-marked, asking yourself, 1) "Why do I like or dislike this?" and 2) "Why do other Christians of sincere conviction like or dislike this?"
Before taking on that assignment, do finish reading this editorial.
Let's be honest. While the vast majority of Americans presently oppose the Iraq War, most of those same Americans were being well represented when Congress voted its initial authorization for the use of military force against Iraq. Chilling reports of the use of chemical weapons against its own people, a cat-and-mouse game with U.N. weapons of mass destruction inspectors, and reports of exporting post-9-11 terrorism convinced many of us to support the efforts to depose Saddam Hussein.
Since then, the original intelligence reports have proven erroneous. Most allied nations have withdrawn their troops. The quick overthrow of the government has turned into a protracted civil war. We now find ourselves caught in a military quagmire.
Ben Casey. Dr. Kildare. M*A*S*H. ER. St. Elsewhere. Scrubs. Grey's Anatomy. House. Which was or is your favorite medical show?
Right now, I like House. Yes, it's crude and crass. Emmy winner Hugh Laurie plays the part of a pain-killer-addicted, rude-bedside-mannered surgeon who says things out loud that no human should ever think. But I like the plot lines, even if they are predictable. A patient presenting strange symptoms gets run through a battery of tests and experimental treatments until, finally, a diagnosis is established, treatment gets administered, and she or he recovers.
Isn't it heartening to hear evangelical leaders, who represent some of the core constituents of the White House, speaking prophetically regarding environmental issues? They have spurred hope that significant policy changes could help turn the tide on environmental exploitation.
Presbyterians of deep memory know that these developments have been a long time in coming.
Ash Wednesday ain't what it used to be.
In my hometown, Ash Wednesday was an annual coming out party for the Catholics. On that one day each year, everybody knew who they--myself included--were.
The ash smudges on foreheads seemed a perfect metaphor for all things Catholic. Translation: Ash Wednesday proved for all to see that Catholics do guilt well.
Guilt drove my Catholic self to church. What the priests implied, the nuns made explicit: salvation hinges upon doing good, or alternatively, for expending painstaking effort to demonstrate remorse for "any act of rebellion against a known law."
Why is it that so many well-intentioned, ethically-minded people behave so badly, so often? Nowhere is that more the case than during national election campaigns. The best and brightest work countless hours, empty their savings accounts, and promise to enact ennobling legislation, all aiming to fulfill their high call to civic service. But in the process they trash their opponents by slinging false accusations like competitors in a cow-pie-tossing competition.
Where do you go to find the greatest innovations? One place to look is among the young. That's the way it was six years ago when a group of mostly Gen-X pastors formed the New Wineskins Initiative. Fueled by youthful energy, they dared to ask not only "Why?" but also "Why not?"
They diagnosed the failure of our connectional system to really connect pastors and elders among congregations. They imagined a church where informal networking could lift 21st century Presbyterianism to a new level of collegiality, accountability, and transforming ministry. Many of their brainstorms needed refining, as well they acknowledged, but their ideas were hope-filled.
St. Jerome once said, "Small minds cannot grasp great subjects." In the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) we can prove him wrong. Our Office of Theology, Worship and Education is directed by a small mind, and he grasps the greatest of subjects. Joe Small is his name, and--all punning aside--his appointment as that office's director means that the great subjects will continue to inform the future of the PC(USA).
To convert or to covenant: that is the question.
American Protestantism travels via two different routes. Both aim for heaven. In most theological respects the groups confess compatible convictions. Both believe in the regenerating power of the Holy Spirit. Both depend upon the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ to be the source of the grace that saves. Both count upon that grace to reconcile them to God, to empower faith within them toward God, and to mobilize them into service in the world created by God.
Happy New Year. Happy new magazine. Somewhat.
Actually the new year isn't all that new. The school year began a few months ago. Rosh Hashana landed a few weeks later. We don't generally maneuver life's biggest turning points on the January firsts of our years. We cross those intersections on wedding days, on birthing days, on graduation days--and when the children head off to college.
Then again, our pattern of making new year resolutions does hold forth the possibility that we can make some things new. We at The Outlook have resolved to do a few things in a new way. We are implementing a re-design in this new issue. A full size picture will now grace the cover. A more explanatory table of contents will join the masthead on page 3, followed by the editorial, and then the news and features. Practical information to enhance and empower effective ministry in your local church will appear regularly.
What an exciting, uplifting, heartbreaking, feisty year it has been! Is it appropriate to diagnose the PC(USA)-in-2006 as the year of denominational-manic-depressive disorder? I can certainly assess it to have been--for this editor--the year of unsmooth sailing.
Just one year ago, this pastor stepped outside the pulpit to enter the world of writing and editing. He felt overwhelmed by the trust placed in him by the board of directors that knew that their Presbyterian Outlook had long provided the denomination a ballast for stability, a rudder for setting direction, and a set of sails to promote forward movement. He also felt terribly perplexed--and admitted so--that his writer-editor duties were overlapping his tenure as member of a controversial task force.
We say that the spirit of Christmas is the spirit of giving. That's all well and good--noble, to be sure! But the children know otherwise. It's about receiving. Christmas is all about making your list, checking it twice, and looking to see if Santa is naughty or nice.
The Christian story of Christmas is all about receiving. The holiday proclaims the good news that God has given the gift of Immanuel, the incarnate Son of God, who has come to be our Savior. What's more, in his teaching ministry, that Savior kept offering us additional gifts. He even pleaded with his followers to ask, to seek, and to knock, promising that they would receive, find, and discover doors open to them.
When one of our pastors, speaking at a denomination-sponsored peacemaking conference, asked the rhetorical question, "What's the big deal about Jesus?" shock waves vibrated around the church.
Dirk Ficca, the executive director of the Parliament of the World's Religions, wasn't intending to sound dismissive when he asked that question on July 29, 2000. He was pressing folks to see Jesus as a revelation of God's will for the world--downplaying the claim that Jesus is the only instrument of salvation--in the hope of building better interfaith relationships.
Ficca's proposal generated wide outcry. For good reason. Presbyterians cry foul when anyone minimizes Jesus' work of redemption. The next two meetings of the General Assembly Council wrestled over it. The following GA struggled clumsily with it. The one thing that GA did get right was to direct the Louisville Office of Theology and Worship to prepare a response for a subsequent GA to consider.
We voted. Congress changed hands. Some of us crowed over the victory. Some of us grieved the loss. Let's think twice about that.
It wasn't too long ago that mainline Protestants dominated American politics. Our churches were expanding with the baby boom. A nation recovering from war was finding our message reassuring. Our children's Sunday school classes were informing. Our fellowship was welcoming. What's more, the Hitler-Stalin legacy reinforced our determination to be a church-transforming-culture, or as Jesus put it, the salt of the earth.
It wasn't too long ago that the Anabaptist vision of church--a city set apart--shaped the culture of the non-mainline Protestant churches. Worshiping mostly in tiny sanctuaries on the edge of town, they followed a pietistic approach to ministry, aimed at saving souls, not cultures.
The editor's rhythm meanders at a different pace than that of the preacher. Publishing cycles being as they are, I get to write a Thanksgiving meditation on Reformation Day. There's a connection there.
Thank you, God, for the Reformation of the church.
Sola Scriptura. Thanks spring from the seeds of renewal that predated the Reformation. Those sacrificial pioneers, Jan Hus and John Wyclif, were convinced that God's living Word is best understood through the written words of the Apostles. In her dark days, the church cordoned off those words, so the people could hear only what was mediated to them through the clergy. Hus, Wyclif, and their Reforming successors released into the people's hands those dangerous words for all to read and hear. Their gift opened not only eyes, but voices of praise and thanks.
Confusion reigns.
As a former member of the Theological Task Force on Peace, Unity, and Purity of the Church (TTF), I have been distressed to see so many Presbyterian friends troubled, perplexed, and even angered by the actions taken by the 217th Birmingham General Assembly in response to the Task Force's recommendations.
Some of that confusion has been generated by inconsistent legal interpretations issued by the Office of the General Assembly (OGA) and by other "constitutional experts."
Added confusion has resulted from the difficulty of shifting from the polarizing political rhetoric used pre-GA--in the hope of defeating the proposals--to a more pastorally soothing rhetoric of reassurance we usually utilize after the home team loses or, as in this case, after our agenda fails to get the votes. Having spent nine months radicalizing the meaning of the recommendations, warning about unintended consequences, projecting worst-case scenarios, and expounding on any and all flaws, some opponents were too enraged by the action or, perhaps in a few cases, are too addicted to the fight to make that shift. The rhetoric of contempt has quieted in some places but continues unabated in others.
100. 75. 50. Three great numbers. Three great celebrations of the ordination of women: as deacons, as elders, and as ministers of Word and Sacrament.
At 100 years, we would love to claim to have been the first, but the Cumberland Presbyterians ordained Louisa Woosley in 1889. Then again, we don't need to claim originality to celebrate our role in promoting gender equality. John Calvin didn't launch the Reformation, he just organized and systematized it. Similarly, we Presbyterians have contributed critical leadership that has theologically validated and organizationally formulated the practice of women's ordination. Hearing of the three anniversaries, 100, 75, 50, might we imagine that something important could have happened 25 years ago, too? Well, as a matter of fact, one big thing did happen. One of our ecumenical organizations, the National Council of Churches, directed its Bible translation team, led by Bruce Metzger, to update the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, with an eye toward making it more gender inclusive. Soon after publication in 1989, the New RSV was being read in most Presbyterian pulpits every Sunday.
Given that most growing mainline denominations began to shrink around 1964, what was it that made that year such an unhappy turning point? In the Outlook's "Just the Stats" issue (Sept. 11), columnist Tom Ehrlich says, "'What happened in 1964 ... was that post-war Baby Boomers began to graduate from high school.'"
What did they do after graduating from high school? One thing they did not do was to wake up before noon on Sundays. Some attended on-campus Bible studies that fit into the eyes-open hours on their body clocks. Like 10:30 p.m. Others squeezed a chapel service between classes in their church-related colleges. Way too many simply suffered spiritual starvation. Years later, when they felt a need to return to worship they found other, non-mainline, churches more to their liking.
Let's play the imagination game. Let's imagine that your maternal great-grandparents were charter members of the church you presently attend. In fact, your mom's folks were Sunday School friends, then high school sweethearts, then tied the knot--in this very sanctuary. Your dad first attended the church as a young adult, which led to your parents' courtship and wedding, and in time, to your baptism and confirmation, too.
Let's imagine that those four generations of family all have spent enormous energy building up the church. Many have served on the Session. Those so talented have sung in choir. Most have taught church school classes. Those great-grandparents and a couple grandparents were buried in the church graveyard just to the west side of the sanctuary.
"Does anybody here understand what it means to be Reformed?" Those words disrupted the discussion in the meeting of 50 or so conservative-evangelical Presbyterian leaders several years ago. After surveying the room, he spoke more softly but with staccato resolve: "Tell me. What does it mean to be Presbyterian and Reformed?"
Not one to be shy, I blurted, "Grace."
"No," he retorted. "That's not it."
"Sovereignty of God," said another.
"Not that either."
Others followed: "Election." "Predestination." "Reformed, always being reformed." Each time he responded, "No."
With a look of disgust on his face he finally answered his question. "Being Presbyterian and Reformed means having a constitutional form of church government."
That discussion proved to be a harbinger of what would ensue over the next several years.
We were setting the bar high when we Americans declared, "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness."
That high bar motivates us to pursue honorable purposes in ethical ways. In recent days, as we have paused to remember with tears the horrors of 9/11, our American president has argued that the war on terror exempts us from some particular requirements of the Geneva Conventions. Many of us find such assertions beyond comprehension, beyond justification, beyond ethical defense. We feel embarrassed, ashamed, and angry.
David Ray Griffin, professor emeritus of philosophy and theology at Claremont School of Theology and Claremont Graduate University, continues his series of books in which he argues that the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on September 11, 2001, were "false-flag" operations of individuals within the U.S. government to aid America's imperialistic advances into Afghanistan and Iraq and to spread U.S. power and influence around the world.
Incorporating material from newly-released interviews as well as reviewing information he has previously published i, the first half of this book contains extensively footnoted material formed into a well-crafted argument against the official explanation of the 9/11 attacks given by the 9/11 Commission, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, the National Institute of Standards & Technology, and various independent media groups. Griffin sums up his argument in this portion by concluding that the evidence he cites is a "conclusive case" (p. 82) that the Bush administration willfully and purposefully committed an act of war against the population and territory of the United States in order to accomplish the goals of a number of its "neo-conservative" members: the absolute primacy of the United States as the unchallenged world power and the institution of a worldwide Pax Americana.
I miss being a pastor. To be entrusted both by God and by a community of faith to represent and proclaim the gospel of our Lord is the most humbling and thrilling vocation I could imagine fulfilling. To have lived out that trust daily for 22 years was a joy.
I will never forget the thrill it was to pray with Ernie in his hospital room as his liver cancer was threatening to take his life. After years of resisting his wife's faith, he now sincerely affirmed Jesus Christ as his Savior and Lord, and welcomed Christ's presence into his life.
What fun it was to baptize the young, the old, men, women, and children. Never to be forgotten was the time I baptized baby Benjamin along with his 83-year-old grandfather Henry. Never to be forgotten (even though I have tried!) was that other time when I got counter-baptized by slimy, smelly, half-digested baby formula.
I heard Tom Skinner preach twice. He preached a soul-stirring sermon at a 1972 Madison Square Garden "Jesus Joy" concert. He preached another soul-stirring sermon several months later at an evangelistic crusade in East Lansing. However, the second was an exact repeat of the first, leaving me wondering if he was a one-note-Tommy. Nevertheless, the preaching double play left in me a memorable vision for the church.
Skinner invited both audiences to wonder how the church should interface with the world. Should we aspire to positions of secular influence? He warned that the secular probably would influence us more than the reverse. Should we withdraw from the culture? The culture would withdraw from faith and justice. Instead, he cast a vision for the city on the hill, the church that would model the reign of God for others to desire and emulate.
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