And out of the ground Yahweh God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Gen. 2:9.)
As in all lands of the world, God made every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food to grow in Afghanistan. Among these trees God also planted the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
Many streams of religious spirituality have flowed into this land, yet the fruit of the tree of life has generally been denied to its people. The policies and actions of its kings, warlords, and tribal chieftains who manipulated the power of the knowledge of good and evil for their own advantage reduced the quality and quantity of the life of the people they governed.
Looking at the birth stories in Matthew and Luke, Ken Bailey finds three startling revelations in the brief accounts of Joseph.
Ken Bailey shares how the original, intended audience of Jesus' birth story would have interpreted the text. This reading changes the traditional, Western nativity story.
In the darkness of Christmas morn I stand under the back porch roof, listening to the rain falling gently on the almost..
The answer to this question will vary in Presbyterian churches, and the way in which we respond reflects our most fundamental attitude toward outreach and evangelism. Almost every congregation desires church growth and sets it as a primary long-range goal, but sometimes our behavior prevents the very thing we say we seek.
I have a vivid memory from a Christmas Eve service when I was a boy in my home church. The pastor welcomed the congregation with words something like, "I want to wish many of you a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, a joyous Easter, a pleasant Fourth of July, and a Happy Thanksgiving because I know that I will not be seeing most of you for another year!" Maybe, in Daniel Powter's words, he "had a bad day." However, even as a child I knew this attitude was unfeeling and insensitive, and as a pastor I have never even thought, much less said, such a thing during any service I have led.
Wahoo-oo! Barreling through the streets of Pasadena, lights flashing, sirens blaring, the cop driving the patrol car at full alert, radio crackling. Oh, it's go-o-ood! Hey, that's police chaplaincy.
We-e-ell, sometimes. Every now and then. Maybe. Kinda.
Police chaplaincy can be exciting, true. It can also be boring, dirty, disgusting, sometimes even dangerous.
History is not the story of those who "sense" there is a problem. We all sense that there are problems in governments, societies, and churches. Everyone knows it and everyone complains about it. History is marked by those who have the clarity to see when it is time to act, those who understand why we must act, and those who can then communicate how to act.
Very few Presbyterians are pleased with our denomination's involvement in global mission at present. Very few people are pleased to know that at one time we had more than 2,000 full-time missionaries serving in the world (1959) and now we have fewer than 240. This is not a matter of theology or ideology. This is a general frustration with the present missional and cultural context in which we find our churches and ourselves. The world's needs and the Gospel imperative both point to the obligation to move forward with greater innovation, participation, and creativity. This is not the time for a single prophetic leader to come forward and say, "This is the way." This is the time when all men and women of goodwill, committed to the Lordship of Jesus Christ, hold hands and say, "Come, let's all move forward together. Step in the river and let's go to the promised land of mission."
(Editor's Note: This article is written in response to "When departures relate to practice," a commentary by Douglas Nave in the Oct. 16 issue of The Presbyterian Outlook.)
The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) may appropriately permit officers freedom of conscience while requiring compliance with the ordination standards in the Form of Government. The historical and judicial examples Douglas Nave offers to support his claim that such would be unchristian or unpresbyterian are either mistaken or irrelevant.
Consider Jesus. We read that Jesus did not "reject the sanctity of the Lord's Day."
While Lord's Day observance developed to honor his resurrection, after the fact, Jesus did honor the Sabbath, even as he transformed it in light of his own presence in the world. He worked this transformation, in part, by healing on the Sabbath. These healings were not ethical expressions of faith, as Mr. Nave suggests, but rather were acts through which Jesus taught. This is a different matter, unrelated to Mr. Nave's point.
Editor's note: As Presbyterians continue their quest to promote peace and justice in Israel-Palestine, we offer for our Outlook readers' reflections both this letter prepared by the Advisory Committee on Racial-Ethnic Concerns and the essay by John Wimberly that follows. The letter was sent to leaders of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) in mid-August when the Lebanon-Israel conflict of last summer was front-page news.
The Rev. Joan Gray, Moderator of the 217th General Assembly
The Rev. Clifton Kirkpatrick, Stated Clerk
The Rev. Allison Seed, Chairperson, General Assembly Council
Ms. Linda Valentine, Executive Director, General Assembly Council
Dear Friends and Colleagues in the Mission and Ministries of Christ's Church;
Sadly and painfully we are all very aware of the seemingly endless cycles of vengeance, violence, destruction and death among the peoples in the Middle East. Time and time again we have called ourselves in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) family to pray and work for the peace and justice of God-in-Christ among all peoples. We write to call for a stronger witness now for justice for all peoples in the Middle East, in the interest of long-term peace and the restoration of fairness and balance to U.S. foreign policy. We urge you as leaders of the Church to share the following letter with the full Council and the church as a whole as a contribution to that witness.
The 2006 General Assembly has, hopefully, put the divestment argument to rest. It replaced the controversial divestment instructions passed by the 2004 General Assembly with instructions to our committees and staff to pursue a strategy of investing in those who work for peace in the Middle East. The GA affirmed the Mission Responsibility Through Investment (MRTI) process, which has been so successful for decades, as one appropriate means to this end. Given that the Middle East has witnessed a new round of death and destruction in Lebanon, Israel, and Palestine, the GA resolution seems even more prophetic today than it did at the end of June.
I think the GA was able to reach a consensus resolution on divestment for a variety of reasons. First, both pro- and anti- divestment advocates have spent the past two years discussing/debating/dialoguing about the best strategy for the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) in the Middle East. As a result, we were a much more informed denomination in 2006 than we were in 2004. Second, the GA acted with remarkable independence. Anyone who thinks that lobbyists for one party or another prevailed in Birmingham wasn't there. Third, the table for a balanced outcome in Birmingham was set by an excellent forum held on Israel/Palestine the day prior to the GA convening. The speakers were reasoned and reasonable. Denominational staff and committee members who created the forum deserve praise.
Editor's Note: As Presbyterians discuss and study church policies and the TTFPUP report, we offer for our Outlook readers' reflections both this article by Ted A. Smith, and the following article by Michael D. Bush and Christopher A. Yim.
Our Presbyterian system places great demands on the governing bodies of the church. We believe that presbyteries and sessions should examine officers in light of essential tenets of the Reformed faith. We also believe that governing bodies should apply all the standards set by the whole church, rather than requiring subscription to partial and local lists of essentials. And so we ask elders and ministers to know the Reformed tradition well enough to discern the movement of the Holy Spirit in individual cases. A range of groups -- most notably the Presbyteries of Santa Barbara and San Diego -- have put forward guidelines to help sessions and presbyteries in this demanding work. But while the texts of these guidelines profess fidelity to Scripture and confessions, the practice of using them promises to displace the very authorities they celebrate.
Recently, a church in Appomattox, Virginia, advanced an overture to the Presbytery of the Peaks with the intent of ensuring uniformity as to the interpretation of ordination standards, particularly as they relate to Amendment B. Amendment B is the only (for now) specification of what it means that those ordained are to live "a life in obedience to scripture and in conformity to the historic confessional standards of the Church." Among all the things that biblical and theological obedience could mean, Amendment B and the Appomattox church want it clear that it means "fidelity within the covenant of marriage of a man and a woman or chastity in singleness."
The overture will not be considered until the March 2007 presbytery meeting. Still, that a church in Appomattox, Va., would champion such an overture is a symbolic indication that the north truly has won the ideological debate in the Presbyterian Church. I offer as explanation the following story of democracy in America and in the American Presbyterian Church.
c. 2006 Religion News Service
RICHMOND, Va. -- 'Your generation will have to die before we can move on,' a 20-something told a 60-something at a national church convention last summer.
'He could be right,' the 60-something said last week, but maybe not.
Veterans of religious wars are highly invested in seeking control of the Titanic, rather than rethinking the Christian enterprise for challenging, post-modern times.
While the same old warriors fight the same old battles over sexuality, church property, denominational leadership, control of seminaries, doctrine, and who's to blame for shrinking membership, more and more believers gravitate to the margins.
It's noon on Wednesday. In fifteen minutes you are meeting a colleague for lunch to discuss a conflicted situation in the presbytery. The phone rings, and you discover that your daughter has a fever and you need to take her home from school. You wonder if she will be able to go to school tomorrow. Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock there is a memorial service. Your spouse is out of town on business for two more days. Should you call the pediatrician? What if your son gets sick, too? Whose turn is it to drive school carpool? The session meeting went late last night and with several interruptions this morning, you are behind on final sermon preparation for Sunday. The bulletin has to be completed before day's end, and the hymns you chose weeks ago just don't seem to fit now. You didn't sleep well after the session meeting last night, as you mulled over how to respond to budget issues. You're pulled in three directions by three very influential elders, all of whom are pressuring you to advocate their proposal, and two of whom think of themselves as special friends of yours. As you hurry out of the office, the administrative assistant hands you a note. Oh no, the dentist appointment at three o'clock!
Grieving families, worship preparation, presbytery obligations, meetings, colleagues, your own family's needs, session responsibilities, disagreements, self care--a day in the life of a congregational pastor.
Editor's Note: These tributes to pastors arrived at the OUTLOOK too
late to be included in the recent Pastor's Appreciation issue (October
23).
Delaware
Lewes Presbyterian Church honors pastor Buz Hughes for his loving
leadership in believing, growing, and sharing the love of Christ.
In the aftermath of the 2007 General Assembly we have observed the controversies breaking out concerning the meaning and significance of the Assembly's actions. In particular, we have heard the criticisms and complaints that the Birmingham Assembly's action of adopting (with amendment) Recommendation Five of the Theological Task Force on the PUP of the Church has brought us less peace, unity, and purity than we had before.
As two members of the Task Force who helped develop Recommendation Five, who now continue to work together, and who feel a responsibility to promote shared understanding, we want to do what we can here to set the record straight.
We appreciate the grave concerns being expressed by critics of the TTF report. We esteem as brothers and sisters those who find themselves caught on the same side of the aisle as those GA commissioners who found themselves in the voting minority. One of the chief teachings of the Task Force, in fact, is that minority positions held in good faith need to be respected. Moreover, the Task Force urged the church to avoid situations in which the majority rides roughshod over minority concerns. Accordingly, we write these reflections in the spirit of ongoing dialogue. We believe that dialogue offers hope for mutual understanding and for moving the whole church forward together.
Do not say "Peace, peace" when there is no peace. In the debate over the recently adopted report of the Task Force on the Peace, Unity, and Purity of the Church, some have rushed to point to those words of prophetic denunciation, believing that they fittingly apply to the present-day Presbyterian Church.
But is it not likewise a serious error for God's people to proclaim "Doom and disaster" when there is no doom and disaster? It seems that certain individuals and groups within the church are so certain that doom and disaster are imminent that they apparently refuse even to consider the possibility that God might have something else in mind for our future.
It seems there's not much everyone in our denomination can agree on these days, but one opinion I have heard voiced a good bit is that the trust level is low across the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).
If this assessment is correct, it is little wonder that we are struggling. Trust is the lifeblood of voluntary organizations. Our system of polity is based on the idea that we trust each other to make decisions in the best interest of the whole church. If that trust is missing, the system becomes a bunch of rules signifying nothing. Without the generous assumption that we can trust each other to do what is right, things fall apart.
As a newly converted atheist, my study of Christianity began at Westminster Seminary in Philadelphia. Westminster was an outgrowth of J. Gresham Machen's separation from mainline Presbyterianism. It was, and still is, a bastion of Reformed orthodoxy.
Westminster's great strength was its stress on the authority of Scripture as the ultimate norm of faith and practice. Classes on the Old and New Testament were invigorating and faith-inspiring, carefully, though often critically, related to current scholarship. Theology courses had a polemic flavor, but immersed students in the worldview of the Westminster Confession. Historian Paul Wooley -- the only Democrat on the faculty -- exposed us to important primary sources, including Soren Kierkegaard and Jonathan Edwards.
Editor's Note: This sermon was preached at the recent General Assembly Council-Middle Governing Bodies Conference in Louisville, Ky.
Scripture: Jeremiah 32:6-15
In 1931, Karen Blixen lost her farm.
She had come to East Africa in 1914 from her home in Denmark, just as the Great War was breaking out in Europe. She had come to meet her husband and her future, far away from Europe's decay. Together, the Baron and Baroness von Blixen purchased some land in the mountains of Kenya to build a coffee plantation.
Their European friends told them it was a mistake; that the land was too high to grow coffee, that the market was too unstable, and that the enterprise would consume them. They were right. Coffee trees and marriages make for hard work, and offer few rewards, and the Baron grew impatient with his investment in both. In the end, he left both farm and wife and lived the life of the idle rich until his money ran out and he died penniless, of syphilis.
For several years I have had some unforgettable acquaintances. Of course, I have not known them personally. We never hung out together. After all, they did live in Egypt some sixteen centuries ago.
They could also have been a little hard to understand. They seemed to have been a peculiarly solemn lot. Completely clueless when it came to small talk, off the chart introverts, they nevertheless had something we often lack. As I read through their interactions with one another again and again, I can sense a deeper stillness than we normally know. They had a very low, unprovokable center of gravity.
I have spent so much time reading through The Sayings of the Desert Fathers (London: Mowbrays, 1975) that I feel that I actually do know them in some mysterious way. In fact, as odd as it sounds, I know them so well that in their most personal moments I can feel their tears falling through their prayers.
We Presbyterians are searching frantically to preserve the unity of our denomination, anything to keep the church from splitting. Let's try this way, that way, a third way. There must be some way we can find! But maybe what we need is to give up our ways and concentrate on what God in Christ has done. We Reformed souls are not very big on liturgy, but that's where our unity lodges and is celebrated -- in our liturgy.
Our utopian visions of harmonious love for each other quickly dissipate when we are confronted with the gritty everydayness of our life together in Christ, whether we are talking about the church down the street, our own Presbyterian denomination, or the larger church. Left to ourselves, our attempts at loving each other fall apart quickly and spectacularly. We try this love thing Jesus was talking about, but when we inevitably fail, which is bound to happen in the hands of sinners, we retreat into more familiar communities of the like-minded.
Perhaps that is the ultimate question hanging over our intramural disagreements and divisions in the Presbyterian church. Deep down, will our American Protestant proclivity for separation and schism continue to lead us into smaller and smaller enclaves of the like-minded, or can we move in a different direction? Can we be led to recover our catholic roots? Is the church, with all its faults and blemishes, still the church we have been given that summons us to live with our enemies and to share a common faith and life with them, even bearing with them in love and forbearance around the Lord's table?
The report of the Theological Task Force on the Peace, Unity, and Purity of the Church is a winner. I support it enthusiastically. Then again, my enthusiasm is influenced by the fact that -- as one mystified parishioner asserted months ago -- I have a high tolerance for chaos.
Years ago I played college basketball, although not well. When our team fell behind by 20 points, with little hope of recovery except some drastic measures be taken, the coach would look long and hard down the bench. I knew his meditation: Should I put Massey in the game and hope that the resulting confusion will lead to new scoring opportunities? Early in my playing career my teammates hated to see me enter the game; I couldn't remember the plays or I would follow them slavishly. At best my personal style could be described as unorthodox. More than once a teammate hit me in the back of the head with a passed ball, or I would return the favor. But over time these same teammates--as much anxiety as I caused them--began to appreciate the chaos I created. It proved even more disadvantageous to our opponents, who could not anticipate what they were about to experience. Out of chaos came creative play, and sometimes surprising victory.
It was our privilege and responsibility to serve as moderator and vice-moderator respectively, of the Ecclesiology Committee of the 217th General Assembly meeting in Birmingham, Alabama. The Committee's primary responsibility was to recommend actions to the commissioners regarding the Report of the Theological Task Force On the Peace, Unity, and Purity of the Church. The task before us was daunting; nonetheless, we came away from the experience inspired by the way in which we Presbyterians can come together, with all our inevitable differences of opinion, to seek common ground and unity in spite of disagreement.
© Copyright 2026 The Presbyterian Outlook. All Rights Reserved. Privacy Statement. Website by Web Publisher PRO
