By now everyone has heard of Pat Robertson’s unfortunate remarks regarding the earthquake in Haiti. He has often claimed to know the purpose that is intended (of course it’s judgment) by the occurrence of disasters – the history of slavery, and the reality of richer nations and corporations pushing small businesses and farmers out of business and crushing their fragile economies notwithstanding.

I wonder if the same principle applies to Hurricane Bonnie in 1998. A few months before that hurricane happened, Robertson claimed that a God’s wrath would hit Orlando, FL because Disneyworld has Gay Days events. But overnight Hurricane Bonnie moved away from the Florida coast and hit square on Virginia Beach where Robertson’s compound is located. Either God has a sense of humor (a gentle one – they did not suffer anywhere near the devastation that others have had) or a butterfly fluttered its wings in Burma.

I was saddened and appalled at his remarks but I get it. I do not agree at all but I understand, I think. I do not think that too many people take him seriously anymore but I do know that people need to make sense of God and suffering. We are all tempted to speak for God. And this has been the question of the ages – how do we believe in a good God amidst horrific suffering, both man made and natural? How do we begin to understand the existence of so much evil around us?

Using judgment or blaming the victim is a way of quieting the confusion of mind and the fear in the soul. It keeps people from tearing their hair out and screaming, “Really God, WTF???!?” (Ok, I confess, I do that anyway at times.) The fear and discomfort of uncertainty and the need to create an illusion of control in this chaotic world creates the theology expressed by so much black and white thinking. It helps to have reasons why, especially when those reasons keep you in the right. But it also shuts down compassion. If they brought this on themselves, we don’t have to give to those who don’t really deserve it, nor take responsibility for our own part in creating third world economies.

But a wise person once said that the only way to answer a theodicy (the hard questions of God and evil) is with a Theophany. An encounter with the Holy. Just as God answered Job’s complaints only with Himself (and Job was utterly transformed at the end of that book, giving his daughters full in heritance with his brothers – unheard of!!!) the only “answer” is the One who transcends our foolish religious striving. In times like these I need a deeper drink of a God of love. A petty, divisive God who abandons the poor and downtrodden brings me to despair.
That Old Testament  vengeance is still too often the lens through which we view things.

One friend said, “Haiti is the broken and bloodied Body of Christ.” I agree, and I believe that if you want to see God’s heart in all this, well, He’s pinned under rubble, He’s hurt and afraid, He’s hungry and homeless in Haiti. And also look to the relief workers who are facing all the hellish aftermath to bring rescue, comfort and aid. God bless them.

And for some smiles, finally: Here is Jon Stewart’s laugh-out-loud funny response to both Robertson and Rush Limbaugh who has said some of the most shameless racist remarks ever:

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/thu-january-14-2010/haiti-earthquake-reactions

(sorry, it won’t let me embed)

I took a break from blogging for about a month. I didn’t intend to do that – the busyness of the season forced my hand. I had wanted to write about each week of Advent. Instead, I sensed God saying to me, just pay attention. So, I did. Here are some thoughts from this time.

Advent means coming, and it is traditionally observed as a time of expectancy and preparation of our hearts for the birth of the long-expected Jesus, as the hymn says. I felt particularly drawn to the songs of longing, especially the old Christmas hymn, O Come Emmanuel:

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

The song speaks of things such as tyranny, death’s dark shadows, gloomy clouds of night and misery, while calling out for God to rescue. In the refrain I saw the faces of a couple of single moms who are each raising a large family alone after abandonment by their respective husbands and fathers, the young woman in a group home who is panicking upon receiving unconditional love consistently for the first time in her life and who desperately wants to flee, the lonely old man on the phone who lives in subsidized housing, who has no family, doesn’t know how to socialize and who dreads Christmas alone, the gay man whose family turned their backs en masse, the divorced woman who feels love and life has passed her by. There are also the ones filled with self-hatred to the point where they live unaware of their own existence, swimming in fantasy or dissociation. And those who are living under the pain of deep regret, or whose lives have literally been stolen from them through abuse, trafficking or cruel laws. Aching, longing hearts. I don’t mean to be such a downer but these were actual people in my December. That may sound burdensome and depressing but I also saw the body of Christ come around them and sustain them in beautiful ways – often at great cost to themselves and their own Christmas celebrations.

So Jesus has been born. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it. The Light not only shines into but transforms darkness. But what does this really mean?

Last night I saw the movie Invictus, which is the story of the struggle of South Africa to redefine itself post-apartheid. It centers around the national rugby team which had been the darling of the apartheid-era whites. The blacks had cheered for whatever team opposed them. But under Nelson Mandela’s leadership, the team became the symbol of his deep passion to bring reconciliation and oneness to a spilt and wounded nation.

True reconciliation is startling. It seems illogical, even stupid. Mandela added to his security team some guards who had protected the previous President, F. W. de Clerk. They were some of the same people who had treated blacks so cruelly and unfairly under apartheid. Needless to say, the black bodyguards were uncomfortable and suspicious of their loyalty. Nevertheless, Mandela exhorted them,  “Reconciliation begins now. Forgiveness begins now.” He put to rest white fears that he would exact revenge and punish them under his government. That is always the danger of being freed from oppression – resentment and bitterness rise up and we are revealed to have the very same heart as that of the oppressor, full of vengeance and the same capacity for cruelty. Yet, through choosing to honor and love his enemy, Mandela won their hearts. During the big game in the movie, Mandela walked onto the field to greet the team dressed in their apartheid-era colors of green and gold. The huge crowd of mostly white South Africans had previously called Mandela a terrorist and an enemy of the state. Now, they begin to shout in unison, “Nelson! Nelson! Nelson!” Mandela’s work towards reconciliation is nothing short of stunning. It’s the most truly Christian thing I’ve ever seen.

I’ve come to believe that reconciliation is the deepest longing of the human heart. We long to be at one with God, with each other and within ourselves. We long to belong, to have a sense of “home” and to be part of a “we”. Author/Prof. Jim Houston says that it is in relationships that we are wounded, so it is in relationships that we are healed. We long for walls to be broken down and for friendship and trust to birth love. Without this, we remain broken shards of ourselves, always less than we are meant to be, less than fully human. To become awakened to this ache within our hearts is the great gift of God’s reconciliatory act of coming into this world. God-with-us intensifies and births our passion to create something better with and for each other.

I don’t know about you but during this first week of Christmas I am longing for a deeper drink of Jesus and for the at-one-ment that He brings in everything from the public square to the broken places in our own hearts. This month Ecclesia Denver writes in the Denver Book of Prayer that “our busted parts are really bursting parts – full of sacred beauty and possibility”. These are such hopeful words for a hurting people! An Epiphany. May we have eyes to see.

Why I cannot sign The Manhattan Declaration (click to read):

(warning: snarkiness ahead)

No, no, no. I simply cannot sign a document such as this. Why? Because it does not reflect the heart of Jesus. Not really. I know that’s a bold statement. Truthfully, it is not a bad document and it carries within it many important issues and good intentions. However, I find the whole thing another humongous adventure in missing the point. And I feel that we have lost our soul.

The Preamble recalls the contributions of Christians throughout history- from the times of rescuing infants from trash heaps during the reign of the Roman Empire to the abolition of slavery, from Christian women “standing at the vanguard of women’s suffrage” to work against human trafficking and AIDS in Africa. Cool stuff, really. However, looking at ourselves through such a selective memory can be dangerous. Various forms of Christian theology continue to give a double message in regards to a woman’s value and voice, especially within our own communities. Christians also owned slaves and used the scriptures to justify their actions for centuries. During the 1980’s when AIDS first came to the forefront, Christians in America abandoned the ravaged gay community with the belief that the disease was God’s judgment and they deserved it. I remember distinctly when they turned their backs en masse on various members of our Dallas community who were revealed to be dying from AIDS. It was cruel.

I am very glad for the ways in which Christians have acted justly and honorably in world-changing ways over the millennia. That was and is as it should be. I do believe we have had a powerful effect for good. However, if we do not remember that we are slow learners and have much more growing to do as far as loving our brothers and sisters here and worldwide, we will continue to make atrocious mistakes such as those above. As it has been said, those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it. (There’s a really, really brief mention of “imperfections and shortcomings” in the declaration which does little to acknowledge our culpability.) And humility is a virtue that we also value. We need to be humble enough to realize we have blown it and need to work hard to win trust back. We need humility to become who we are meant to be. We are not there yet. But the journey of humility and becoming could be a real testimony to Jesus. No, seriously, it could.

The document is said to be written out of concern for the poor and vulnerable which is fitting for a Christian manifesto. However, the agenda is primarily two things: pro-life legislation and anti-gay marriage. They also include the “the rights of conscience and religious liberty” but seem to be fairly vague when it comes to implementation. But anyhoo, first of all, the writers seem to forget that the vast majority of abortions in the country are done for economic reasons. Passing legislation to end abortions only leaves people in dire straights. Why wouldn’t the writers ask us to put our time, passion and oh yes, our own money in finding a way to engage the lives of the men and women who are facing unwanted pregnancies? What education or help do they need? Jobs? Childcare? To simply make this a matter of legislation may satisfy our selfish hearts but do little to actually help the poor or the vulnerable. My theory is that it is easier to write a document or pass a law than to get your hands dirty by actually moving into a poorer neighborhood and making friends and having a direct and yes, sacrificial but real impact on people’s lives. I know that even speaking that way freaks people out but that’s what God did. He went slumming – He moved in and actually became one of us and gave up quite a bit of His entitlement. We already know that story. So, why do we think we can hide behind a document or law when it comes to people’s lives and call it Christian?

Second, there is much debate over gay marriage and civil unions and what impact those things may have on society. However, very few (if any) of the authors listed have published anything that I can find that has any scientific or psychological knowledge or insight about the homosexual orientation. Love would mean at least giving a damn enough to learn, wouldn’t it? Maybe it might mean reading a few books outside the ones that only reinforce what you want to believe? More importantly, wouldn’t asking forgiveness for the way Christians have treated the gay community (and still do in some sects) be a much more powerful way to win hearts and possibly, to win enough respect to earn the right to speak? That paragraph is not in this declaration. And imposing our moral ethics on others is not what Jesus taught. It wasn’t His way.

They also mention a “marriage culture”. I am all for marriage, and for healthy marriage especially. I have been married a long time and that came by a lot of hard work and commitment. But this document is meaningless until we get our ducks in a row as far as what a healthy male-female marriage is. The rigidity and refusal of complementarian theologians to see the harm that their condescending view of women’s “roles” has had on both men and women continues to damage people. I have counseled too many couples who have been harmed and confused by that stuff. It breeds a false sense of masculinity as well- something that is far from the picture of the Bridegroom (who lay down everything dudes, who didn’t grasp power, and who taught a pattern mutual submission of the entire body for which marriage can be a model). Oh, if these theologians/writers could even just admit that their exegesis has some major craters holes in it and they might just possibly, infinitesimally, maybe perhaps, once in a while could be a wee tad bit wrong and just might, maybe, possibly have a thing or two to learn and there might just possibly, maybe, be a reason to reconsider things. Just sayin’. Half of the church worldwide is affected by the views on women (as are the surrounding cultures), but I can understand if you’re busy. Sigh.

Ultimately, this is why I cannot sign this:

We are Christians who have joined together across historic lines of ecclesial differences to affirm our right—and, more importantly, to embrace our obligation—to speak and act in defense of these truths. We pledge to each other, and to our fellow believers, that no power on earth, be it cultural or political, will intimidate us into silence or acquiescence.  It is our duty to proclaim the Gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ in its fullness, both in season and out of season. May God help us not to fail in that duty.

This is our obligation???? No, brothers and sisters, it is not. We are Christians. First and foremost our obligation is to love. Jesus was very clear on this. He never asked us to be the moral police or even the truth police. (Shocking, I know.) He asked us to actively and sacrificially love others and then work at keeping our own houses in order. (Our own- this means us, not them out there who tick us off because they aren’t doing it right and certainly not as good as us.) And rights? Rights? You know what Jesus did with His rights, right? Is that not a classic example of cultural syncretism? Why aren’t these Christian leaders teaching us about how to lay our rights down?

To take a real “stand” that flows from love would mean an incarnational and consistent engagement with the people that this document affects. Seriously, how many babies are we willing to adopt? How much child care will we subsidize out of our own pockets? Have the declaration writers invited their gay neighbors to dinner yet? Have you? Are the authors willing to move to the Congo and die alongside those being extinguished by ethnic hatred there? Are any of us willing to go that far? You have to admit, a bunch of middle to upper middle class white guys doing that would certainly grab media attention and maybe make an impact that would shake the core of this self-centered world. It might even make a real difference the way that sanctions and bombs have not. Call me cynical but something tells me this is not in the plans for the writers of this document.

They do talk about noble things like assisting those who are facing genocide and ethnic cleansing, as well as human trafficking. I am happy to hear this and I hope these folks can help to wake the church up to the desperate needs that exist outside our own political agendas and American lifestyles. But what will this mean? Is it maintaining personal passivity and demanding the government do all the work? Is it enjoying smug self-righteousness when the “right” bills pass? I have worked hard in support raising for a ministry to help women leave the sex for sale trade and are so often met with empty promises and glazed eyes. It is not a ministry that Christians want to write about in their Christmas letters. They hate the sound of human trafficking and yet, cannot face that it is also happening right in their own cities, maybe with their own neighbors. (Do you really think all au pairs are voluntary and getting paid a good wage?) Love is not glamorous work, folks. If preachers begin to preach the reality of the cost of effecting Jesus’ kind of justice in this world they will have really small congregations, but maybe they will really be the Church.

Jesus was a subversive. He engaged in relationship and story, calling people back to dignity and love. He was hands on, poor as dirt, and reviled by those who like comfortable lives. To begin to call Christians to live as He did is a major undertaking. It will cost us everything. He asks way more of us than this declaration does. Even so, I do believe the hearts behind it meant well. They crafted the words carefully and are not mean-spirited. But they utterly miss the heart and example of Jesus. This declaration will only serve to stir up more of the “us and them” mentality, to create more dividing lines and to misrepresent the GOOD News to a hurting world. Enough, folks. This declaration is cowardly by comparison to what Jesus has called us to be.

What if they wrote up a document that called the Church to really be who we really are and challenge us to be people who don’t hide behind moral documents and laws but who truly live in sharp contrast to this world? And, what if the “contrast” was described as not merely that we’re “happy” and don’t see “R” rated movies and know who to condemn, reject and avoid, but that we’re people who’d rather live in a smaller home than see another family go homeless, or take the bus so car money can go to the local non-profits that provide free legal aid to battered women and their kids. Do you see my point? The folks who wrote the Manhattan Declaration (not to be confused with the Manhattan Project which was about creating the ultimate weapon of mass destruction and nuking millions of innocent people) and who have been described as “prominent Christians” can do way, way better than this paper.

Write that document (as described above) and then perhaps I’ll sign it.

Other blogs on the same topic:
by Dr. Robert Prescott, a Mainstream Oklahoma Baptist (click)

Brian McLaren#1

Brian McLaren #2

a lawyer looks at the Manhattan Declaration

Good posts from a different point of view:

Rev’s Rumbles

Scot McKnight, Jesus Creed

itsreallyall3It’s Really All About God
By Samir Selmanovic
Jossey-Bass
286 pages including study questions

When recommending an important book one of my favorite profs used to say, “Go, sell all that you have and buy this book.” There’s not many books that can truly earn such a strong endorsement but I think this is one of them. But I must recommend it with a warning: it will rock your world. Perhaps it’s only suitable only for those whose thirst for God has exceeded safety limits. For through his personal stories and engagement with the stories of  Christians, Muslims, Pagans, Atheists and more, author Samir Selmanovic points the way to a life with God and each other that is bigger and better than most of us have ever dared to dream. It is the only non-fiction book that has brought me to deeply felt tears in recent years. And there’s laughter as well to be sure, flowing easily from his descriptions of our humble human condition. (Really, who writes about their hemorrhoids?) Yet in this warm sharing of very human realities he draws us into a brother and sisterhood of humanity in which we may encounter God in the midst of our ordinary experiences. I am writing this not so much as a book review than as an expression of gratitude.

Samir Selmanovic is the founder and co-leader of Faith House in New York City. He shares his own journey from his beginnings amidst a close atheist/Muslim family in eastern Europe to his conversion to Christianity through a Seventh Day Adventist Church and through the realization of having embraced a way of understanding religion that limited the scope of God’s love in this world. “Religions are meant to lose their luster to God’s larger presence,” he says. And, are we willing to make [our] religion “take a back seat to something larger than itself?” The eye-opening time for him was when he reflected on the fact that his early years had been encompassed by fullness, celebration, hard work, kindness, laughter, generosity and warmth within his secular Muslim home and he realized that “Life was complete, until I became a Christian and it all came apart.

He came to realize that in his early days of conversion he had shut out his former life and relationships. Rather than growing into more life, he had merely switched sides. In my early years as a Christian, I also learned to compartmentalize my life, ignoring family celebrations for Christian retreats and pouring less of me into connection with dorm friends and others to go to Campus Crusade meetings. I ignored my heart for years, assuming that to want to drink in regular old life, side by side with family and neighbors of all persuasions was to step away from the Kingdom or compromise myself. (Yes, I was actually taught that.) Selmanovic demonstrates beautifully that the Kingdom was to be found in those places all along. God inhabits the lives of all people.

At first glance it might seem that this is just another attempt at asserting the idea that Christians dread- that there’s good in all religions so why can’t we all get along? However, I believe he rescues us from our shrunken vision of exclusivity and superiority. He gently and beautifully challenges Christian triumphalism and leads us to a healthier place by recalling our virtue of humility- we are not the only ones who serve and do for the world. He gives us back the wonder of the deep enjoyment of the presence and expression of God in all others. The gift of other religions, he says, is that “They pose difficult questions we don’t want to ask, make assumptions we don’t want to acknowledge or examine, create meaningful arguments against us we don’t want to consider, and expose harmful practices we don’t want to stop.” They make us better Christians and in that vein, they can help us to become better lovers as a more generous expression of God’s heart for this world. Perhaps trying to “own” God has distorted our self-understanding.

So how much will our hearts expand? Christians have considered atheists to be the enemy. Selmanovic draws us into an even more expansive heart that is able to embrace the gift that atheism brings. He says, “Atheism at its best grabs us by the collar and throws us to the ground, demanding to see lives well lived, forcing us to dig deeper and live up to the best of our own religions.” Atheism calls on us to live out the integrity that our “converted” hearts have claimed.

In my tribe I know that a knee-jerk reaction will be that the author is advocating relativism – that all faiths are the same so we should just blend together. We fear the loss of specialness, as God’s “peculiar people”. But he asserts that our uniqueness is a gift that we offer to one another and that the boundaries that maintain our distinctiveness are also essential in order to love well. However, the author reminds us, these boundaries do not need to be cement walls. Why can’t they be bridges? Or doors? If God is relational (and of course He is), so are we, and we need a path towards each other.

But here is the real gift – as we lay down our demand to be first and best and only and that all others must become like us, won’t we then look more like Jesus who laid down all of His privilege, even equality with God, to become one of us and live in our reality, even unto death? We will become lovers in the best sense as He was, serving up, making room for the other and dancing with God as He plays in 10,000 places. As we give up our stake in protecting Christianity, we are freer to follow Christ. Through this gentle, winsome call out of a religious expression which sets up rigid walls between human beings, we may paradoxically find and therefore express more of Him. In losing ourselves, we will find Life. Selmanovic says, “We can either stay with the Christianity that we have mastered with the Jesus we have domesticated, or we can leave Christianity as a destination, embrace Christianity as a way of life, and then journey to reality, where God is present and living in every person, every human community, and all creation.” Sounds like the Kingdom to me.

www.samirselmanovic.com

Read the New York Times Review
Mystery Over Certainty
Pomomusings
Video of Samir Selmanovic

(I once again apologize for my lack of gender-inclusive language. There is no appropriate pronoun to describe God who transcends gender and creating hybrids makes me crazy. But the author of this book absolutely includes women fully and freely into this wonderful mix.)

southafrica-winegetawayI took a brief Sabbath from blogging about some reflections on the 10 commandments and have returned just in time to continue with number 4.

Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. ~ Ex. 20:8-11

I have written about the Sabbath before (found here) but there is always more to say about such a day as this.

My husband and I enjoyed the most beautiful Sabbath experience several years ago during a trip to Africa. We had spent 5 weeks in Mozambique with people we loved, working very full days, writing, preparing, teaching, discipling, learning, traveling, preaching, visiting, counseling and conversing. There was no time off. We enjoyed it so much we didn’t realize how tired we were until we left Mozambique and landed in Capetown, South Africa (via Johannesburg). While there we had some time to take in the lovely seascape, travel around the Cape of Good Hope while dodging penguins and baboons, and gaze at all the beauty from high up on Table Mountain. Interspersed between those things was a visit to Robben Island (where Nelson Mandela had been imprisoned for 27 years) and visits to a few of the many townships where poor, black South Africans still reside post-apartheid. The strange juxtaposition of it all was too much for my mind to hold.

One morning, we ended up at an old winery. A huge, leafy tree beckoned us to come sit beneath it and rest alongside a small blue pond. Dappled sunlight poured through the leaves above us as we sunk into in white wicker chairs. The temperature was perfect, neither too warm nor cool. It was so perfect in fact, that we barely noticed any temperature at all. A gentle breeze rustled through endless rows of grapevines that wove up into the small hills that encircled the vineyard. The vineyard owner’s two purebred dogs came out to sit with us in the shade of the tree, lying in two half-moons at our feet. As if on cue, two glasses of wine would appear at intervals for tasting, accompanied by cheese and fruit. The time for work and worry had passed for the moment, and it was time to drink in beauty with all of our senses. We were soaked in Presence. We could feel God’s pleasure.

Sabbath time. Sabbath is more than a pleasant day off, or a reward for hard work. It is a call to remember. The Sabbath command recalls a time that pre-dates the day that we forgot God and forgot ourselves. It recalls beauty, harmony and life abundant. It stirs longing for the home we’ve never really known but desire just the same. It is a thin place, where we once again may walk in the garden with God in the cool of the day. It helps us to rediscover joy – an experience that is sorely lacking in so much of our lives that are consumed by survival and competition and production. Sabbath increases our longing for wholeness and wellness. Sabbath is a connection to our past and to the future, where we at once recall the beauty for which we were designed, and gain a better vision for the coming reign of God. It is a reminder of the promise: “All shall be well”.

What’s most remarkable to me about this commandment is that it includes a profound sense of God’s heart for justice. Sabbath rest is not merely for the rich and privileged who can afford not to work. Nor is it merely for those who have “earned” the right to rest. As Jesus reminds us so many times in various ways, those who seemed not to work as hard or “do it right” will still be welcomed by Him, just like the parable in which the workers who started their labor late in the day in the vineyard got the same reward as those who had toiled since the early morning. God simply does not measure us by the things that seem logical in a post-fall world. Sabbath reflects grace.

The commandment about Sabbath was spoken to the Jews after they had been freed from slavery in Egypt. They knew what it was like to be the hated and oppressed other. And now they learned that the people of God were never to treat others that way. The Sabbath would include all – male and female, people of all stations of life, strangers and even animals. All would be free to enjoy God and others. The Sabbath is meant for all Creation. It foreshadows the Kingdom to come but as we practice it together it helps to create Kingdom Now.

As I was teaching about this one day in Mozambique, I was struck by the overwhelming irony of being a white American standing in authority as a teacher over black Africans in their own country. I prayed, God what do I do with this? I sensed Him say, “Speak to them about their story.” So with more than a little trembling, I did. I began to speak of the reality of slavery that had ravaged their continent and despoiled the moral health of a large part of the world for centuries. Their eyes reflected deep shame and they slunk lower into their seats.

As our conversation progressed they began to reveal some of the lies they had been told. “Is it true,” one asked, “that we are black because we are so sinful?” Is it true that we are black because we are cursed?” “Is it true that the white man must rule over us because we are sinful?” They had been told all these things by colonists and remembered them for generations. We went to the text together to disrupt those lies. And because of the fourth commandment that speaks to former slaves about equity and God’s heart for all, they were able to bring their story to the true Story. They began to pop like popcorn out of their seats. “Africa is blessed!” one man cried.

Sabbath, it seems, is a transformative practice. It is a great equalizer. When we each remember to interrupt and stop what we believe is our life and look up to remember our Source, we stop measuring and rating and comparing ourselves to one another. Then as we make space for all to experience Sabbath rest by removing our resentments and demands upon the other, we remember our interconnectedness. When we all are free to dream, rest and play, and all are free to pause and drink in the same beauty under a sunlit tree, then all are finally recognized to be the fruit of the same Vine.

I believe that Sabbath is a practice that we cannot afford to ignore. It is a commandment that is restorative for us on many levels. But even as we are intentional about practicing Sabbath as a community, there will still be food to be prepared, babies to be changed, or animals to be tended. Somebody’s hands will be serving. The fact that while we live in this world our work never truly stops just serves to remind us that true Sabbath never happens without some form of sacrifice. That too, is part of the Story that needs to be recalled again and again.

nameinvainI am blogging through the 10 commandments. Sometimes things become so familiar that we can’t truly see them anymore. I am finding them richer and more grace oriented than I remembered. They come alive when you remember God’s passion for creating the Kingdom of Shalom- peace, life, and love- on earth. The post on the first two commandments is here.

So here is number 3:

You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain, for the LORD will not leave him unpunished who takes His name in vain.
Exodus 20:7

What does it mean to take the Lord’s name in vain? According to Webster, the word vain means “empty; devoid of real value; useless; worthless, fruitless and futile.” On one level we understand that to not take the Lord’s name in vain means no “OMG’s”. We do use empty expressions of God’s name frequently. We even throw God’s name around as if it were a curse. Jesus! It feels powerful, I suppose, as curse words often do. I sometimes imagine the long-suffering, bodily resurrected and present Jesus saying, “I am right here. No need to shout.” Now that would make cool reality TV.

Do we have any idea of WHOM we speak? Once again, the name of God used in this commandment is YHWH (Yahweh), which is the personal name of God that is referenced when you see the capitalized word LORD in the text. It was considered by the ancient Hebrews to be too sacred to speak. I need to meditate on that a bit more. I wonder if this was because any word to name or describe God cannot ever be big enough and therefore once we utter it, we have reduced God down into what our finite minds can hold. St. Augustine said that once we have explained God, we have lost God. Peter Rollins says that any talk that we have of God is not truly about God. It is about our understanding of God. It is about finite, one-dimensional snapshots of God, and the images we have constructed from them. A study of the word for vain, שָׁוְא in Hebrew associates it with the idea of idols – something worthless for ascertaining the truth. To reduce God in this way must be the ultimate act of vanity (both in the sense of emptiness, but also in conceit) because we create a false image of Him.

In our attempts to grasp an understanding of God lies the inherent danger that we will create a system of religion and ethics that is built around the smaller God that we’ve captured. When we do so, we begin to speak in ways that demand supremacy and “being right” and that create divides and exclusions and distortions of the faith in His name. Love is thwarted. (It’s funny how this smaller God resembles ourselves.) When this happens we violate both of the greatest commandments given to us by Jesus (that sum up all of the 10) which are: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength and love others as you love yourself.” When we take God’s name in vain, we lose God and thus, each other. It kills the community of Shalom. It’s fruitless, empty, futile.

Even as we confess our utter poverty in trying to understand God, Jesus brought a name and face to us as the God-man, God in flesh. He came to show us what God was truly like: No one has seen God at any time; the only begotten God who is in the bosom of the Father, He has explained Him.” (John 1:18) Even so, I realize that we do continue to try to reduce Him or fit Him into our mold (Soldier Jesus, Boyfriend Jesus, Santa Jesus, Holier than Thou Jesus, Congeniality Jesus, etc.) but we have a Person who has shown us the heart of God and how God moves in this world. Like the first two commandments, I think the third is calling us back to sit with Him and gaze upon His Face. Sitting with Jesus, we silence our many words so that instead of grasping and comprehending, we are grasped. Instead of holding and possessing, we are held. Instead of “changing” God, God changes us. Sitting there with Jesus, we learn that “that which we cannot speak of is the one thing about whom and to whom we cannot stop speaking.”* There we find our heart’s desire instead of own vain attempts at explanations of Him.  After all, “one does not read love letters while in the embrace of the Beloved.”* Then, we love “because He first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)

Here’s more thoughts on what taking God’s name in vain might mean (Feel free to add your own!):

  • Presuming to speak for God in ways that divides and diminishes others
  • Televangelists who insist that God promises that if you send money to them your life will change for the better (We have had too many vulnerable people deceived by this.)
  • Asserting absolute rights over another in the name of God
  • Presuming ownership of God in the belief that God does not or cannot inhabit the lives of people outside our faith circles
  • Presuming to live self-sufficiently, as if our lives do not effect the whole
  • Using God to justify a religious spirit that profits or dominates, or simply must have the last word
  • Withholding respect from others as the Imago Dei
  • Presenting the Evangel as one who is not good news for all
  • Forgetting grace

*These quotes are from “It’s Really All About God” by Samir Selmanovic
(It is also so difficult to write of God when we don’t have a pronoun that can transcend gender!)

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