Editor’s Note: Clay J. Brown, Associate Pastor for Christian Formation and Discipleship at Grace Church in Houston, Texas, has written the following response to two recent essays in The Presbyterian Outlook: “The Significance of the Resurrection” by Cynthia L. Rigby and “Easter Faith, Easter Church”, by George Stroup (issue 187-11, March 21, 2005). One of the essayists, Cynthia Rigby, who is W. C. Brown Professor of Theology at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, has replied to Mr. Brown. Her response follows his essay.
For years, a church’s declining membership concerned its leaders. Their solution— a youth ministry. After several years, the church pastor acknowledged that the effort invested to attract young families was not working. The pastor’s conclusion was simple and refreshing: “I have been telling the session that perhaps it’s time to be who we are, a church for older adults.”
I am grateful that my colleague and friend, Ben Sparks, has broached the sometimes sensitive subject of Christian education, especially what is happening in the local church. I suspect, like so many pastors and educators at this time of the year, Ben has faced another confirmation class unfamiliar with the stories of the faith!
The World Alliance Church News recently reported that the Reformed world has lost one of its courageous prophets with the death of antiapartheid activist Beyers Naudé.
From the 1960s, Beyers was among the few whites in southern Africa who was brave enough to speak boldly at great personal risk.
If this question sounds like one a child might ask a harried parent, it is. Gestation is involved since ministers are made not born, and church officers need to consider where they really come from.
In the wake of the anniversary of the beginning of the Iraq War, I have questions.
Do the Iraq war’s opponents want the new Iraq to dissolve in civil war? Do the war’s advocates believe our invasion was justified by an election in which the once-dominant group hardly participated, but which is having some impact throughout the Middle East?
Our polity as Presbyterians is grounded on the proposition that all authority rests in governing bodies acting either in plenary session or through committees, commissions, councils, and task forces. Though frequently described as a democratic process, it is decidedly not a democratic one, at least not in the common understanding that the will of the people is expressed through their representatives.
Dear Sisters and Brothers,
For seventeen years I was a minister of the church in Switzerland, and since 1986 I have been Professor of Reformed Theology in Germany at the university in Goettingen. In Switzerland most Protestants are Reformed. In Germany the Reformed are a small minority in relation to Lutherans and the United Churches, but they are Reformed more consciously than in Switzerland.
Reflections on Matthew 28:1-10
It is a dark and stormy night in upstate New York as I write this, and I close my eyes to recall the sun that warmed me one spring day several years ago, in Jerusalem. I was on a seminary trip and I had taken my last free day to go back with my video camera to “The Garden Tomb,” a verdant postage stamp-sized plot of ground off Nablus Road that stands as good a chance as any of being the actual site of Jesus’ burial and resurrection.
The visit of your new Secretary of State to the Middle East, during which Condoleeza Rice met with Ariel Sharon and Mahmoud Abbas, raised the tantalising possibility of an end to the Intifada. Carefully dipping her toes into the previously unrewarding swamp of Middle Eastern politics and peace making, Miss Rice spoke of the possibility of a new beginning for the peace process.
In 1922, a young Baptist minister delivered a sermon before a Presbyterian congregation in New York City, entitled “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?” It resulted in his leaving that pulpit to become one of America’s most influential Protestant preachers. Harry Emerson Fosdick, both loved and reviled, delivered intelligent and often controversial sermons from the church that John D. Rockefeller provided for him on Moningside Heights. The Riverside Church has stood for decades as a bastion of progressive theology.
What does it mean to be an Easter Church—that is, a church that confesses “God raised the crucified Jesus from the dead?” Is there only one correct interpretation of that most central of Christian confessions or is there room in that confession for different interpretations of what it means? Is there only one “orthodox” interpretation?
Reflections on John 20:1-18
Every few years the calendar conspires against the church by placing the moveable feast of Easter on the same day most of the country springs forward to Daylight Savings Time. This year’s calendar is kind to us, and this ecclesiastical “perfect storm” is avoided.
Christ is our peace. The gospel is not that peace is possible, but that it is actual. The dividing wall of hostility has been broken down, first between earth and heaven, then between Jew and Gentile, then between male and female, then between slave and free. If these divisions fall — biblically the great divisions — they all fall.
Reflections on Matthew 21:1-11
On Palm Sunday at the Brick Presbyterian Church in New York City, churchgoers arrive early to get a good seat. The graceful procession of the children waving palms is a sight I recall decades after I worshipped there.
Luke 7:31-32 and 2 Corinthians 1:8-10
Editor’s Note: The author gave this presentation at a Vigil of Remembering for the 37th anniversary of the Tet Offensive and Counter-offensive in Vietnam. He writes: “This year, with one son now on station in the Gulf of Arabia with the 15th MEU(SOC), the vigil takes on an added significance for me.” Most of those attending were Vietnam War combat veterans and their families.
Last July, I was troubled by the General Assembly’s resolution condemning the invasion of Iraq as “unwise, immoral and illegal.” It wasn’t the assembly’s weighing in on a public issue that bothered me, since it does so almost every year. Nor was it the church's stand against the war -- I had questioned the invasion myself.
“Jesus began to weep.”
This man does not do this often.
This is the only time that the gospels record Jesus’ weeping. Something has struck the deepest chords in Jesus. This is a resurrection story, but Jesus is weeping. What do the tears mean?
It’s easy to bash the Pharisees in the gospel of John, but we do so at our peril. One writer notes, “For the Pharisees, protecting the identity of the Jewish people in the midst of a hostile world was an overwhelming priority. To continue to be ‘God’s people’ meant that they had to use every tool they had to remain distinctive, to resist the temptation to assimilate into the dominant culture.” [1]
THE SEVEN LAST WORDS FROM THE CROSS. By Fleming Rutledge. Eerdmans. 2005. $12.00. 91p. (0-8028-2786-1). Pb.
Rutledge presents seven meditations on the final sayings of Jesus. He links the sayings from the cross with contemporary events and concerns, incorporating recent biblical scholarship and modern questions about the death of Christ.
Editor’s Note: After the OUTLOOK guest opinion “What have we done for Brown?”, Nibs Stroupe, pastor of Oakhurst Church in Decatur, Ga. responded with the following letter. His letter in turn sparked a reply by Ken Woodley, author of the original opinion piece. Both letter and response add to the information about this chapter in civil rights history in the United States.
The year was 1965, the Second Vatican Council’s “Decree on Ecumenism” had readjusted the ecumenical landscape, and the Roman Catholic Church was thrust headlong into an ecumenical movement that had been a largely Protestant and Orthodox enterprise.
Third Sunday in Lent
A man and a woman meet at a well. They talk. Their heads bend toward each other. Her head jerks back in astonishment. He leans forward to explain. With a sweep of an arm he gestures for her to leave, and she drops her head to say something.
On Presidents' Day and just after the inauguration of President George W. Bush, we might do well to remember the inspiring words of one of our most important leaders. He presided over the country during the Civil War of the 1860s: Kentucky-born Abraham Lincoln. In a letter to a Kentuckian in 1855, Lincoln, then a leading politician in the Illinois legislature, put the crisis of the Republic in these memorable words:
You are not a friend to slavery in the abstract. In that speech you spoke of "the peaceful extinction of slavery," and used other expressions indicating your belief that the thing was at some time to have an end. Since then we have had thirtysix years of experience; and this experience has demonstrated, I think, that there is no peaceful extinction of slavery in prospect for us. ... On the question of liberty as a principle, we are not what we have been. When we were the political slaves of King George, and wanted to be free, we called the maxim that "all men are created equal" a self-evident truth, but now when we have grown fat, and have lost all dread of being slaves ourselves, we have become so greedy to be masters that we call the same maxim "a self-evident lie". ... Our political problem now is, "Can we as a nation continue together permanently---forever--half slave and half free?" The problem is too mighty for me--may God, in his mercy, superintend the solution.
Several years ago, an article in the PRESBYTERIAN OUTLOOK described how the Rev. James Smith, a Presbyterian pastor in Springfield, Ill., played a key role in converting Abraham Lincoln out of his original skepticism toward a greater confidence in Biblical faith.
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