Are You a Zombie or a Spirit?

As most people within screaming distance of Evans City know, zombie horror began in our area with George Romero’s movie “Night of the Living Dead.”  So as Halloween approaches, I have a question for you: would you rather be a zombie or a spirit?

Christians celebrate the new life that we know in Jesus Christ.  But in order to enter the new life of his resurrection, we must first die to the old life we once knew.  As Paul wrote to the Romans, “We were buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life” (Romans 6:4).  Paul goes on to describe how the death of our old life frees us from sin, which now no longer has control over us.

And yet we choose to live like zombies clawing their way out of the grave.  The problem with zombies is that they don’t know they are dead.  They stagger around with outstretched arms and soulless groans, trying to live a life they no longer have.  In the same way, we cling to what we used to have and what we used to be.  We seek fulfillment and enjoyment from the activities and interests that we had before we died with Christ.  And like zombies that can’t get enough flesh to eat, we are never satisfied.

Zombie Christians orient themselves to the pursuits of the old life.  Instead of realizing that they are dead, they believe that they must continue to live as they had before.  The only difference is that as Christians they try to restrict themselves from the excesses of the old life by putting up barriers and following “thou shalt nots.”  They ask “What can I keep from my old life and still be a Christian?” in the same way that zombies try to hold onto what few faculties they have that have survived the grave.

God did not put us to death with Christ in order for us to be zombies.  He took away our old lives because they were destroying us, and because they would never allow us to experience the joy, peace, and meaning that he desires for us.  The sooner we stop trying to live a life that we no longer have, the sooner we will enjoy the new life that Christ has given us.  God’s blessings come to us not as some sort of restricted or whitewashed version of the old life, but through an entirely new existence that basks in his love.

God has given us a new life by filling us with his Spirit, his very presence to empower us, to guide us, and to show us at all times that he is with us, and that he takes great pleasure in us.  The life of the Spirit opens us to possibilities that could not be possible of even conceivable before we died.  The always-new, always-amazing presence of God awakens in us the very essence of our humanity, and we discover for the first time who we really are.

So I’ll ask you again.  This Halloween, and for the rest of your life, do you want to be a zombie, or live in the Spirit?

More Than a Glass of Water in the Desert

Usually our church’s summer mission trips focus on giving aid to people who have gone through a natural disaster: tornadoes, floods, and hurricanes.  Last month, although we travelled to West Virginia to assist flood victims, our efforts were directed more to people struggling to get by in situations of poverty.  For example, Michelle, who owns the home where I worked, is a single mother who is unable to work, trying to get by on disability checks and what extra money she can earn breeding pedigree dogs.  She is a giver, not a taker, helping neighbors “with money I don’t have” with their own struggles.

It’s one thing to help people going through a crisis, to help them get back on their feet.  But how can we best help people like Michelle, or the residents of the Montana Indian reservation we visited on our first mission trip?  They greatly appreciated our efforts, and Michelle now has a dry, insulated room ready for the winter.  She is grateful for that blessing, but her overall situation still has not changed.  She will still struggle to pay her bills, or decide what necessities she can do without.  She still lives in a community with no jobs, even if she was able to work.  She will still have to wrestle with the dark emotions that rise up from living in a seemingly hopeless situation. 

Our week with her brought a ray of sunshine into her darkness, and we improved her living conditions a bit.  Or as we say here at Old Union, we encouraged her and built her up.  But how much of a difference did we make for her overall?  Did we give a glass of water to someone in the desert, but leave her in the blazing heat?  Did we pull someone out of a ditch, but leave her stranded on the side of the road?

Jesus told a story about a Samaritan who gave aid to someone who had been beaten and left for dead (Luke 10).  As he tells the tale, “when he saw him, he took pity on him.  He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine.”  The Samaritan helped the man, but he was still weak and wounded, unable to fend for himself.  So he put the man on his donkey, took him to an inn, and took care of him.  He then paid the innkeeper to continue to care for the man until he was fully healed.  The Samaritan was not satisfied with half-way measures.  He continued to encourage and build up the man until he was restored to full health and strength.

I wonder if at times we are satisfied with half-way measures of our own.  We fix someone’s house without addressing the causes of her poverty.  We give school supplies to children in need, but do little to help them and their families be able to care for themselves.  Half-way measures feel good, because we see immediate results.  We can be the knights in shining armor, helping them in their distress.  We pat ourselves on the back, pleased with the encouragement and up-building we have done.  But the sources of their struggles remains.

How can we be more like the Good Samaritan in the encouragement we give?  I don’t know, but I hope that together we can look for some answers.

Cause and Effect?

Events happen because something causes them.  Your toe hurts because you smacked it into the door jam.  You’re tired because you stayed up too late the night before.  It’s dark at night because the sun sets.  We may argue about the causes of what we experience (is human activity responsible for climate change? have government regulations killed the coal industry?).  And we may not know what the causes are (why do people get cancer?  what started World War I?).  But we all agree that our world operates under the rule of cause and effect.

Philosophers of religion sometimes refer to God as the “First Cause.”  He ultimately is the cause of everything that happens.  The circumstance that causes one event was itself caused by something else, and so on down the line until we reach God himself as the First Cause.  For example, someone’s house collapses because of an earthquake.  The earthquake occurred because tectonic plates under the earth’s surface grind against each other.  The plates move because of the earth’s structure.  The earth is structured the way it is because…. Eventually we reach the first cause: “because of God.”  And God has no cause.  He is the one who causes everything else.

Lately, however, I’ve been wondering if the rule of cause and effect actually runs the world.  What if some things happen for no reason and with no cause?  For example, medical researchers have not been able to find the cause for some diseases.  Because we believe in cause and effect, we assume that there is a cause, and we hope that more research will find it.  But is that always the case?  Could it be that sometimes when we ask “Why did this happen?” there is simply no reason why?  Not that we can’t figure out or understand why it happened, but that there simply is no cause for it at all.

Unbelievers may chalk such events up to dumb luck or random fate.  Sometimes things just happen, they may say.  Life is one giant coin toss: sometimes you come out heads, and other times for no reason at all you end up with tails.

But as believers, we acknowledge that we are under the control of God’s providential care.  He does not need a reason, or a cause, to do what he does.  Job and his friends spent 35 chapters debating the cause for his affliction.  When God finally spoke, he did not provide a reason or a cause for what happened to Job.  He described his power and his control over the most powerful and the most insignificant happenings in creation.  In essence, he asked Job, “Who are you that you should expect an explanation from me?”  Sometimes, we do not know the cause for what happened because there is none.  There is only the will of God.

In his letter to the Romans, Paul considers the question of God’s justice when he blesses one person instead of another.  He does not explain that the person deserved what they got, or even that there is a purpose beyond human understanding.  He concludes that God’s will needs no reason or explanation: “God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden” (Romans 9:18).

God has blessed us with inquisitive minds and the desire to understand.  But at times, we submit to God’s authority by relinquishing the notion that our actions, or events in God’s creation, can explain what happens to us.  God needs no cause or reason for what he does.

A Requiem for Reasonable Discourse

I avoid posting politically-oriented thoughts on Facebook or my blog.  Experience has taught me that they only create anger among those who disagree, and further entrench convictions held by those who may agree.  No one is enlightened, and everyone simply gains more fodder for their own diatribes.  However, I am going to dip my toes into the water and hope the piranhas don’t devour them.  I’m not expressing support or disapproval about a particular issue, but registering my dismay about what has happened to our nation’s political process.

Today I pulled up notes from a sermon I preached in August 2001, hoping to glean some pearls I might be able to use on Sunday.  While making the point that adversaries may be able to respect and even cooperate with each other, I said “You would think the Democrats and Republicans would want to rip each other apart.  Some countries make that mistake, when they believe that political parties should attack each other at any cost.  Republicans and Democrats may disagree strongly, but they share a common loyalty to the Constitution and to our nation.  When push comes to shove, they work together.  They have different goals and strategies, but they are on the same team.”  Perhaps I was naïve sixteen years ago, but these remarks certainly don’t describe politics in the United States today.  The primary objective of our elected officials has become the ascension of their party over the other.  The welfare of our nation and its people, and respect for the Constitution, have taken a back seat.  At best, they have become talking points put to the service of partisan agendas.

I miss the good old days when we expected our elected officials act with respect and honesty.  Do you remember when a President could face impeachment for lying?  Or the shock we felt when a Vice President told a senator of the other party to “Go f--- yourself”?  At the time, episodes like these seemed to have hit the gutter of partisan politics.  Now, they would barely last a news cycle.  American governance has become a zero-sum game: in order for “my” team to win, the “other” team must lose.  The definition of winning in Washington has become the defeat or embarrassment of the other party.  The deliberative process has lost its give and take.  The goal is to do all of the taking and none of the giving.  The concept that the best result comes from both parties working together is now dismissed as a quaint notion.

If you doubt the hypocrisy that both parties demonstrate, go back eight years when the Democrats had the White House and majorities in both houses of Congress.  The Democrats are now saying what the Republicans did then, and the Republicans are repeating what the Democrats did then.  The majority party blames the minority party for being obstructionist, and the minority party protests that the majority is forcing their agenda upon the nation.  It is not the issues that matter, but who holds the power.

If you are inclined to comment on this post by arguing that the “other” party is to blame for the decline and fall of American governance, take care.  Your comment may simply become one more example of how partisanship has trumped reasoned discourse.  And as the originator of this post, I reserve the right to remove insulting or profane comments. 

Now, let’s see if I can survive those piranhas….

Grab a Big Handful of Grace

Last month we celebrated communion by intinction, fondly known also as “rip and dip” at my church.  As the pastor, I hold the bread, with elders holding chalices on both sides.  Congregation members come forward to “rip” a piece off the loaf and “dip” it in the juice before returning to their seats.  Most people take a small piece of bread from the loaf: little more than what they can pinch between two fingers.  Every now and then someone ends up with a bigger-than-expected piece because the bread rips in an unusual way.  When this happens, they usually look up at me with an embarrassed expression, as if to apologize for taking so much.

Not Jacob.  I can see the gleam of excitement in his eye even before he steps up with a smile to take a big handful of bread from the loaf.  His mother, grandmother, aunt, or whoever is with him may wince a bit and look at me to confirm that I understand the situation and won’t take offense.

Jacob is an adult member of our congregation who has Downs Syndrome.  His smile and cheerful greetings, and his eagerness to lend a hand at church events, display how God works through Jacob in wonderful ways.  And he teaches us by how he takes communion to enjoy God’s blessings more than we typically do.

God does not want us to be content with tiny morsels of grace in our lives.  He wants us to grab onto all that he offers with joyful gusto.  We do not need to worry that we’ll use up all the bread or that the cup will run dry.  Remember: he is the One who fed a crowd with five loaves and two fish.  If the Lord had felt the need to be careful with how much he gave, perhaps the 5,000 would have gotten only enough food to keep their stomachs from growling until they got home.  But not Jesus!  Not only did everyone have plenty to eat, but they ended up with twelve baskets of leftovers (Matthew 14:15-21)!

During our church’s mission trips each year, I joke that God is a terrible accountant, because it never makes sense how much money we have left over at the end.  One year our finance committee chair wondered if we had spent any money at all after we returned what we hadn’t spent.  This year’s trip will cost significantly more than trips in previous years, but it is already fully funded.  God has displayed his generosity once again.

We may worry at my church about the mortgage we still owe on our new building.  And we may be anxious about how to pay for the extensive roof repair work that we need.  But God is unconcerned.  As you’ll read in this newsletter, he has arranged through the generosity of an anonymous donor to have our entire parking lot paved!

Take a clue from Jacob.  When the Lord offers a blessing, do not be content with a tiny morsel, to make sure there’s enough to go around.  Grab a giant handful of what God offers, trusting in what one scholar has called Jesus’ “logic of superabundance.”

Elemental Spirituality

Scientists have identified 118 elements that make up all matter.  The ancients had it easy: they believed there were only four: earth, fire, wind, and water.  Different combinations of these elements, they thought, compose everything that exists.  And because they didn’t separate the studies of science and religious belief, as we tend to do today, their relationship with God, described best by considering them as aspects of these four basic building blocks of creation.  Although our understanding of the physical world has developed far beyond that of these people from the past, we can continue to benefit from the wisdom they developed by considering God’s work through the four elements. 

EARTH: We still talk about being well “grounded,” or having a stable basis for our lives and what we do.  We call someone “down to earth” if they are well-connected with the practical aspects of life.  In the Bible, the psalmist praises God by declaring, “My feet stand on level ground; in the great congregation I will praise the Lord” (Psalm 26:12).  On the other hand, as he puts it, “You place [the wicked] on slippery ground; you cast them down to ruin” (Psalm 73:18).

How does God enable you to remain grounded in the everyday aspects of your life?

FIRE: We describe someone as being “on fire” when they are doing an exceptional, amazing job at whatever task they are doing.  The “fire” of God captures, electrifies, and excites us.  In Scripture, God used fire to speak to his people (Exodus 3:2) and guide them (Exodus 13:21).  When the Lord’s very Spirit came upon his people as “tongues of fire” on Pentecost, they were so filled with his power that in day the church grew from 120 people to over 3,000!

When has God filled you with the “fire” of his presence and power?

WIND: When life has become stagnant and empty, it’s good to have a “breath of fresh air.”  Like the wind, God brings newness and life in powerful but unseen ways.  As Jesus once said, “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit” (John 3:8)

How has God brought fresh new life to you, in powerful and unseen ways?

WATER: Just as water nourishes the thirsty ground, God’s presence rejuvenates us and  brings us to life.  The Bible ends with a description of the “river of the water of life”  that brings healing and nourishment (Revelation 22:1-2).  Just as water washes away dirt and stains, God removes all our guilt and shame.  The sacrament of baptism expresses this cleansing power in our lives, as the author of Hebrews encourages us to “draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water” (Hebrews 10:22).

What “dryness” in your life can God refresh?  What “stain” can he wash away?

When Opposites Don't Attract

WHEN OPPOSITES DON’T ATTRACT

As we become more aware of the diversity in our world, we also seem to be less tolerant of the effects of this diversity.  I speak here not about diversity of ethnicity, religion, or socio-economic status, but about diversity of opinion and conviction.  Politically, socially, and culturally, our nation has devolved into a world of “us” versus “them,” with a growing gap between the two.  This gap tends to be the genesis for all sorts of conflict, but it also offers possibilities for innovation and creativity.  It depends on how we handle the opposites we find among us, and I see four options.

First, the simplest way to deal with opposites is to consider them as incompatibles.  You can either have one or the other, but not both.  This is the “either/or” outlook.  You can have A or you can have B, but you can’t have both.  Either/or is the simplest way to consider opposites, and it’s most attractive to zealots.  In the original sense of the word, a Zealot could imagine either a Judea dominated by Rome, or one that was completely independent and self-determining.  Anyone who tried to merge the two was a traitorous collaborator, worthy of more hatred and disgust than even the brutal legionnaires.  And we find their modern counterparts all around us.  In the dark days of the Cold War, a nation was either pro-Soviet or pro-US.  You had to choose one side or the other, and you certainly couldn’t choose both.  If you tried to be “non-aligned” country, both sides distrusted and rejected you.  You can either have a Republican President or a Democratic President.  The Tea Party movement exemplifies this philosophy well.  Small government, diminished regulation, and lower taxes are the holy grail.  You’re a traitor to the cause if you back down from or seek to find any nuance in the gospel according to Grover Norquist.  Please don’t misunderstand my example to imply that either/or is the provenance of one side of the political spectrum; you can find examples on the left as well.

Second, if you become disillusioned or dissatisfied with either/or,  you can compromise.  For years, I considered this to be the best way to deal with disputes between opposites, and my heroes were great compromisers like Daniel Webster and Henry Clay.  When people disagree, the best thing to do is to split things down the middle and give a little bit to each side.  No one is particularly happy about the result, but everyone (or at least, everyone who is reasonable) can grudgingly accept the result.  But the beauty of compromise is also its downfall.  No one is happy, and no one can exult in the outcome, other than to celebrate that neither side has slaughtered the other.  Compromise dulls and deadens; it does not inspire or invigorate.  Compromise leads to counting slaves to be three-fifths of a person, a conclusion that concluded nothing but merely set the stage for a fratricidal conflict four score and seven years later.  Compromise is the solution Solomon offered for two women claiming one baby, which would have brought about the wholly unsatisfactory result of each possessing half of a tiny corpse.

In time, I discovered the wonder of a third option for handling incompatibles: the Hegelian dialect, which replaces compromise with evocative possibility.  As thesis and antithesis interact, they create synthesis: a new way of thinking and being that had never existed before.  Unlike either/or, it requires thoughtful consideration and even acceptance of both opposites.  Unlike compromise, it creates and offers a solution for which all parties can be passionate.  The dialectic approach requires a great deal of imagination and creativity, together with openness to things never before conceived.  As you may be able to tell, I’m quite taken by power of the dialectic.  But I’m learning more about another, potentially more productive, strategy to approach incompatibles.

In this fourth way of thinking, the opposites are no longer incompatibles between which one must triumph over the other, nor two positions leading to a dissatisfying compromise, nor even a synthesis which replaces them both.  Let’s use the language of church leadership experts Roy Oswald and Barry Johnson and call them polarities.  In this schema, the opposites interact with each other not simply to produce a synthesis that is better than either of the originals, but to allow full expression for each.  Oswald and Johnson call it an infinity loop between two poles.  Movement toward one pole enables us to experience the full benefits that come from it.  But staying at that pole will lead to problems, which movement toward the other pole can overcome.  The goal is not to find some midpoint between the poles (that would be compromise), or to discern a new perspective that gleans from each pole (that would be something like dialectic), but fully embracing both and enjoying what comes from the interaction and tension between the two.

G.K. Chesterton’s 1908 book Orthodoxy offers an outlook similar to Oswald and Johnson’s description of polarities.  As he puts it, the point is not to find a balance between virtues, but to have them collide with each other.  He advocates holding passionately, uncompromisingly to both opposites.  Separate them, exaggerate them, and then crash them into each other.  To explain, he offers the example of courage, which he defines as “a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die.”  If all you care about is living, you will run away from danger and hide from every threat.  But if all you care about is dying, then suicide is awfully attractive.  Courage is the collision of valuing life so much that you are willing to lose your life for it.  Is this the same thing as Oswald and Johnson’s polarities?  I’m not sure, but at the very least they’re kissing cousins.

Polarity, or the collision of opposites, provides intriguing insight into some of the toughest theological nuts we have to crack.  Looking again to Chesterton, he considers Isaiah 11’s prophecy of the lion laying down with the lamb.  The prophecy does not mean that the lion becomes lamb-like.  The lion would then be subdued by the lamb, which is just as much of an either/or as the lion eating the lamb would be.  The prophecy is not that the lion becomes a lamb, but that the two opposites can lie down together.  They can be with each other, both fully living out their identity.

This metaphor of lions and lambs is not limited to an ancient prophecy; it is a description of our Lord.  In Revelation 5, John is told to turn and look at the triumphant Lion of Judah, but when he turns he sees a Lamb that has been slain.  Is Jesus the gentle, humble, sacrificial lamb?  Yes.  Is Jesus the roaring, fierce, powerful lion?  Yes.  No either/or.  No compromise.  Not even a synthesis.  But a polarity.  Two simultaneous virtues crashing into each other.  And this opens us to the mystery of God.

• Do we worship one God? Yes.  Do we worship three Persons? Yes.
• Does a loving, sovereign God control the events of the world? Yes.  Are there terrible evils in this world that violate God’s will? Yes.
•  Does God love us with an infinite, unimaginable love that nothing can shatter? Yes.  Does God hate our sin with an unspeakable fury? Yes.
• Is Jesus God?  Yes.  Is Jesus human?  Yes.
• Is the kingdom of God here? Yes.  Will the kingdom come with the return of Christ? Yes.
•  Is the redeeming work of Christ the only means for salvation? Yes.  Does God desire for all people to be saved? Yes.

You may quibble with some of these opposites and point out that they are or can be quite compatible with each other.  And you may be correct.  But the number of foundational convictions that Christians hold which are, or at least seem to be, in contradiction with each other is certainly something to give us pause, and is a great supply of grist for the mill of apologetics.  It is certainly not the expression of a straightforward description of life, God, and the world.  Our faith cannot be confined to a discreet set of theological propositions, although much benefit comes from the centuries of inquiry and consideration.  If Christianity is a riddle, it is one that will never fully be solved.  Rather, it is an evocative and eternal mystery in which we revel and lose ourselves.

Each of these four strategies for handling oppositional elements can be appropriate in the correct context.   Some things are either/or, with no room for compromise.  Other matters can be settled satisfactorily with compromise, while others set the stage for a synthesis, and yet others form a dynamic polarity.  The trick, of course, is to match the most fitting approach for the matter at hand.