The kingdom of God has come near to you…

8 “When you enter a town and are welcomed, eat what is offered to you. 9 Heal the sick who are there and tell them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ 10 But when you enter a town and are not welcomed, go into its streets and say, 11 ‘Even the dust of your town we wipe from our feet as a warning to you. Yet be sure of this: The kingdom of God has come near.’ (Lk 10:8–11).

The Leap of Faith

When I first saw this picture I was awestruck by the power that is evident in the environment and I have to admit that I really didn’t admire the surfer jumping off the cliff into the water. But as I continued to contemplate it, and as a result of something I heard recently when discussing the concept of GRACE with another Christian (we were considering the tension between faith and works in Galatians 3 and Philippians 2) I realized that this is just what is necessary.

I doubt very many Christians would deny that surrender is essential to the Christian life, but at the same time I think that for many this profession is little more than a doctrinal statement. It is not a conviction arising out of experience. We talk of surrender while holding on tight to our cherished beliefs and ideas: to our will. We say ‘Thy will be done’ while continuing to live on the basis of ‘my will.’

But at some point, if we are going to fully experience the abundance of life that is only to be found “in Christ,” we are going to have to let go of our own will and leap into the unknown, propelled by nothing more than the hope that the God who promises will deliver on those promises. I think that’s why it is so hard to make the leap. That’s why we are generally only willing to leap when we have reached the end of our own resources. Like in the picture above, we must either turn back, or we must jump.

I pray that I can make that jump today and everyday – into the awesome power of God.

MLK Revolution of Values

I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin...we must rapidly begin the shift from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights, are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.

A true revolution of values will soon cause us to question the fairness and justice of many of our past and present policies. On the one hand, we are called to play the Good Samaritan on life's roadside, but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho Road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life's highway. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar. It comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring.

A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth. With righteous indignation, it will look across the seas and see individual capitalists of the West investing huge sums of money in Asia, Africa, and South America, only to take the profits out with no concern for the social betterment of the countries, and say, "This is not just." It will look at our alliance with the landed gentry of South America and say, "This is not just." The Western arrogance of feeling that it has everything to teach others and nothing to learn from them is not just.

A true revolution of values will lay hand on the world order and say of war, "This way of settling differences is not just." This business of burning human beings with napalm, of filling our nation's homes with orphans and widows, of injecting poisonous drugs of hate into the veins of peoples normally humane, of sending men home from dark and bloody battlefields physically handicapped and psychologically deranged, cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice, and love. A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.

The Final Judgment

31 "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. 32 Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. 34 Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? 38 And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? 39 And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 And the King will answer them, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

41 “Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for hthe devil and his angels. 42 For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ 44 Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ 45 Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ 46 And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

Henri Nouwen

One thing is becoming clear to me: God became flesh for us to show us that the way to come in touch with God’s love is the human way, in which the limited and partial affection that people can give offers access to the unlimited and complete love that God has poured into the human heart. God’s love cannot be found outside this human affection, even when that human affection is tainted by the brokenness of our time.

Remembering 9/11

So here’s my take on the 9/11 and subsequent events. There has been a lot of public discussion in the last few weeks about how 9/11 changed us, which it has, and not all for the better. I read one article lamenting what we’ve lost and at this point I don’t even remember what it said but it occurred to me as a historian that what we’ve lost is direction. I think one of the best ways to characterize that loss of direction is by the images of the night when Osama bin Laden was assassinated, and we saw drunk college students celebrating in the streets of the Capitol as if we’d just won a big football game.

What I mean by loss of direction is that we no longer stand for what we once did in the world. Before the United States became involved in a big way in world events there was a predominant feeling that we had no business in world affairs. That dream of isolationism was shattered by the attack on Pearl Harbor, but to me it seems quite evident that the generation that went off to fight World War II did so with a real sense of regret, and a conviction that the world was being threatened by a real evil and that there was a need to sacrifice for the good of all. And that they did. They did sacrifice. And it was for the good of all.

What’s different today is that Americans do not so much seem to be driven anymore by this sense of conviction and sacrifice but more by a desire for revenge. I think couple that with the fact that America’s leaders (and I mean all of them, not just Democrats or Republicans)  no longer seem to be able to articulate a grand vision for America and its role in the world has made the United States appear to many in the world to be little more than a bumbling, revengeful giant.

Now I don’t want to argue that there is not a need for American engagement against its enemies. But beyond that I think we have lost that sense of purpose; we have become disillusioned, cynical, and bitter. And aside from the fact that this is obvious to others in the world, it poisons our national life internally too.

I think one of the reasons for this drift, as I mentioned, is lack of leadership. So even though I know many people remember Ronald Reagan as a conservative ideologue whom many associate with the devil, in fact Reagan was the last of that World War II generation who saw the world through starry idealistic eyes. Whether you like it or not Reagan was hugely popular, and the reason why was in spite of the fact that his actions sometimes belied his rhetoric, he was able to articulate the best of what Americans believed about themselves and about America.

So on the eve of the 9/11 commemorations, I am posting this archival speech of Reagan’s that encapsulates what once were the convictions of this nation, in hopes that at some point we will be able to remember as a nation that love finds its fullest expression in self-sacrifice for the other, even the enemy (Mt. 5:44).

Ronald Reagan Point du Hoc Speech

Father Damien of Molokai: Leper Priest

 

 

Father Damien de Veuster (1840-1889) was a Belgian born priest in the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, a Roman Catholic Missionary religious order based in France. He spent the greater part of his life as a missionary and sixteen years in service to lepers at a colony on the Island of Molokai in the Hawaiian Islands chain, and eventually died of the disease himself. In 2005 he was venerated as Saint Damien of Molokai by the Roman Catholic Church. His vocation as a Roman Catholic missionary in an era of intense competition and outright intolerance between Catholics and Protestants might seem to be an odd selection as a “mentor” for one called to serve the evangelical Church in the twenty-first century, but I believe Father Damien’s career is characterized by attributes that are instructive for any servant of God, particularly those called to pastoral ministry. This essay is an attempt to find the heart of Fr. Damien as a pastor. I will present a brief biopic followed by an analysis of his approach to ministry as described by Fr. Damien himself and contemporaries, and finally a discussion of how this approach is relevant to my own circumstances.

How I came to choose Father Damien as a subject for further study is interesting to say the least. The history of Hawaii since its “discovery” by Captain Cook in 1778 has been an interest of mine for some time. Although Hawaii does not fall within the overall framework of my own specialty, which is Modern Latin America, nevertheless the events that occurred in Hawaii in relationship to the United States, particularly in the nineteenth century, present opportunities to consider the broader trajectory of U.S. history with undergraduate students. And, Hawaiian history is at once fascinating and tragic. So I have become something of an amateur historian of Hawaii.

On the Sunday before this paper was due, after already having begun preparation of a study of eighteenth century English clergyman John Newton, I heard a sermon in which Father Damien was introduced in ferefence to a consideration of how Christians ought to present the gospel to the communities in which we live. Specifically, the story that was given suggested that Fr. Damien considered himself a failure and was ready to give up his mission among the lepers, but as he was leaving he discovered he had leprosy himself and thus was not able to leave, and that his identification as a leper led to a flourishing ministry. I was drawn to this because of the notion that effective evangelization relies more on empathy and understanding than intellectual presentation. Ironically, the illustration proved to be historically inaccurate, at least in the details. But I was not to know that until I had done further research, which I was motivated to do by my historical interest in Hawaii and by the supposed miracle that was brought about by Fr. Damien’s contracting leprosy.

Damien was born Joseph de Voester in Ninde, Belgium, on January 3, 1840, the seventh child of a prosperous farmer.[1] It was his father’s hope that he would be able to carry on the family business, and because Joseph was physically robust but an unexceptional student he seemed well adapted to that calling. But Joseph himself had other aspirations.[2] Two of his older sisters and his older brother Auguste had entered the convent and the monastery respectively.[3] Although Joseph remained loyal to his father’s wishes throughout his teens, he was spiritually restless. Farm work did not satisfy him.[4] At the age of eighteen he was sent to a boarding school to learn French, which afforded him the opportunity to reflect on his calling. He was drawn to the religious life by the example of his siblings, and by 1859 he had abandoned the farm and entered the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. Upon entering the religious life he took the name Damien. [5]

The normal progress of an applicant to this religious order was a period of postulancy followed by the solemn rite of profession, a novitiate of a year and a half, followed by studies in philosophy and theology, ordination, and finally an assignment to an overseas mission.[6] Joseph made his profession on October 7, 1860, in a ritual that resembled the funeral rite, representing the dying of the novitiate to the old life and rising in a new.[7] This ritual intrigues me. It must have been dramatic, particularly for one who was inclined toward the ceremonies of the nineteenth-century Catholic Church, and it appears to have had a dramatic effect on Damien’s life. At the end of his life he would refer to it as a dying that prefigured his dying of leprosy, in a way that shows a real sense of abandonment of self to God and his will.

Damien was entirely captivated by stories of missionary priests and their adventures in the Pacific region, and longed to devote his life to “bringing civilization to unexplored regions.”[8] In the post-colonial era this kind of thinking is generally condemned by the academic establishment, and in some cases rightly so, but at this point it is important to focus on the desire that Damien had to give his life for what he perceived at the time to be the propagation of God’s kingdom. I will briefly address the issue of paternalism and colonialism below. An opportunity came in 1862, when a number of religious were assigned to the mission in Hawaii. Damien was not among those chosen but his brother was. When Auguste contracted typhus, and was thus prevented from going, Damien seized the opportunity to take his place and was included in the mission.[9]

Because of the urgent need for workers in the mission field in Hawaii, within two months of his arrival in Honolulu Damien had risen through the ranks of the order to be ordained a priest on May 21, 1864.[10] Damien was assigned to an area on the island of Hawaii that was ninety miles long and thirty miles wide, containing as many as 3000 Catholics and one church. Damien was a tireless worker who travelled extensively through the area under his care. He wrote about carrying the church on his back – literally – as he had a portable altar that he would set up to say mass. During the eight years he was responsible for this area he built several churches with his own hands. He learned the local language and acquired the appellation “Kamiano” form his parishioners because of the peculiarities of the Kanak tongue. He lived a simple life and often accepted the hospitality of his parishioners, but only if he was certain of not being led into temptation. And, in a sign of things to come, he was accused of being “too driven.”[11]

This accusation against him suggested that he was too focused on the needs of his local congregation and did not consider the needs of the mission as a whole. I think that Damien’s response to this accusation was characteristic in that he did not recognize the reticence of his superiors as obstacles but rather as opportunities. By the end of his life this characteristic would lead to some very ugly relations between Damien and the Church hierarchy, as will be shown.

The introduction of leprosy to the Hawaiian Islands is of unknown origin; however by 1865 it had reached epidemic proportions particularly among the native population. A U.S. government study of the disease in 1936 observed that if the rate of leprosy in the mainland United States was equivalent to that in Hawaii the National Leprosarium would have 200,000 patients rather than 400. Because of the epidemic proportions of the disease the Hawaiian government – then still under the native monarchy established in 1810 – passed a law entitled “Act to Prevent the Spread of Leprosy in Hawaii” which led to forcibly segregating those affected by the disease from the general population. The government eventually purchased isolated land on the island of Molokai where the lepers could be exiled.[12]

The stated purpose of the act was to protect the Hawaiian population, but the effect was to create a squalid exile where those contracting the disease were essentially left to die.[13] In the middle of the nineteenth century it was believed by many that leprosy was highly contagious and that it was spread through touch. It was in fact thought to be a fourth stage of syphilis, and thus associated with loose sexual morals. Since the native Hawaiian view of sexuality did not correspond to the western Christian model, during this era Hawaiians were regarded by westerners as morally deficient in this regard. The false relationship between syphilis and leprosy led to an attitude on the part of many westerners that the lepers had essentially brought judgment on themselves through loose sexual practices, and thus there was not a lot of sympathy among the general population for the plight of the lepers. In fact the attitude toward leprosy in the nineteenth century was analogous to attitudes surrounding the current HIV/AIDS epidemic.[14]

In mid-April 1873 Fr. Damien learned of the wretched condition of the colony and of the need for a permanent priest for the sufferers there and responded with enthusiasm to a call for volunteers. Three other priests also volunteered to go, but for reasons unknown Damein was selected to go first and upon arrival would beg to be permanently assigned there. He would spend most of the rest of his life among the lepers.[15]

Though he possessed a zeal to be of service to the poorest of the poor Fr. Damien was shocked by the conditions he found within the leper colony and repulsed by the disease itself. The condition of the sufferers was such that they did not properly care for themselves. Many were horribly disfigured by the disease and particularly malodorous. In a number of letters Damien describe the smell of the place by referring to the story of Lazarus and observing “iam foetet” (he stinks already).[16] Along with the physical toll the disease took on the leper population, the knowledge that they had been sent to die left them hopeless and self-destructive. Drunkenness and sexual orgies were commonplace.[17] In 1873, when Damien arrived on the island, new exiles to the island were welcomed with the phrase “Aole kanawai ma keia wahi – in this place there is no law.”[18]

For the next sixteen years Fr. Damien would be a tireless worker among these lepers, turning the colony from the squalid hovel he found in 1873 into a truly Christian community (an ecumenical one – not just Roman Catholic). Along the way he would capture the admiration of the world and the suspicion and sometimes the outright hostility of his superiors. From the very beginning Damien identified himself along with those in his care by using the phrase “We lepers.”[19] By the time he had been in the colony for eleven years it became apparent that he too had contracted the disease.[20] He lived until April 15, 1889, working tirelessly for his flock until the end.[21]

Father Damien’s approach to the pastorate is characterized by a complete devotion to those he felt called to serve, in this case the poorest of the poor in the leper colony on Molokai. The representation of a two and a half decade ministry would be difficult to accurately portray in four pages, so in this case I am going to focus on just three aspects in particular: Fr. Damien’s identification with and devotion to the work of Jesus, how that devotion caused him to reach out to those he would naturally have not thought his allies, which led to a genuine ecumenical spirit, and how he had to learn to cope with the notoriety his mission brought him.

Damien left behind a prolific correspondence and there exist a number of contemporary observations of his ministry, which I will consult when drawing a thumbnail sketch of what I believe are its most relevant aspects. I should note that most of the correspondence has not been published and hence was not available for consultation in the preparation of this essay. Instead, I have been forced to consult edited sections of this correspondence contained in a recent book titled The Spirit of Father Damien by Jan de Volder, published in 2010. Although I am aware that consultation of the original sources or at least unedited transcripts is preferable for any scholarly endeavor, I am convinced after examination of a number of additional sources that Mr. de Volder accurately represents Fr. Damien’s thinking and has produced a faithful account of his life, “warts and all,” so to speak. While I have no intention of dwelling on the less than positive events of Fr. Damien’s life, I think it is important to note that the source of what follows is trustworthy.

I have already mentioned that even during Damien’s first assignment on the island of Hawaii he had been looked at with suspicion by his ecclesiastical superiors because of his zeal for serving his local flock in apparent disregard for the greater needs of the mission. If anything this characteristic became more prominent as Damien assumed his duties among the lepers. It resulted not only in his constant request for more supplies and more assistance for his little community, but also in his abandonment of regard for his personal well-being in deference to what he considered his mission. The best medical advice of the day, the orders of his superiors, and even scripture (Lev. 13:45-46) proscribed touching, being touched, or eating with the lepers,[22] but Damien was convinced that he could not rightly perform his duties and follow this advice. So he followed the example of Jesus, who had walked among and touched the lepers. And this is the key to his ministry: that he saw himself as a representative of Jesus to these people. Damien wrote to his superior in Paris:

They are repugnant to look at, but they also have a soul redeemed at the price of the precious blood of our Divine Savior. He too in his divine love consoled lepers. If I cannot heal them, as he could, at least I can offer them comfort.[23]

Another secular biographer of Fr. Damien, Gavan Daws, observes:

with a priest like Damien, in whom belief was unaffectedly incarnate, faith was made physical. To mortify the body, to die to himself, to risk physical leprosy in order to cure moral leprosy – this was to be a good priest. If it meant touching the untouchable, then that was what had to be done. The touch of the priest was the indispensible connection between parishioner and church, sinner and salvation.[24]

This attitude was to lead Damien assume the role of leadership in the community. That leadership was manifest in the multiple building projects he initiated, in his organization of the community into men’s and women’s groups who would minister to each other, in his devotion to the orphan boys and girls for whom he built homes and to whom he devoted special attention. But even though he was a leader, which is normally associated with the pastoral role, I think that what made Damien so remarkable was that he identified himself with his parishioners. Years before he himself contracted leprosy he referred to the community as “We lepers.”[25] This was in marked contrast to others in the Catholic hierarchy. Among his superiors, the Bishop Hermann Koeckemann was terrified of leprosy and only visited the colony once under extreme duress,[26] the vice provincial Léonor Fouesnel never set foot on the island.[27]

In the post-colonial era there has developed a critique of Christian missionaries as agents in league with colonial exploiters. There was an undeniable Euro centrism evident in much western thinking about the peripheral areas of the world in the nineteenth century and Damien was not immune to that. Before he left and upon arrival in Hawaii he no doubt considered the natives to be “savages” and saw the introduction of western culture as one way in which he could serve the people. In the end I don’t think he ever strayed far from the idea that he ought to insist that his flock live what the West would consider a moral lifestyle and that the organization he initiated among the people was decidedly western (even though he himself learned to speak Kanak and made provision for traditional Hawaiian expression in his worship services). But having said that, I don’t think in the end he viewed himself as superior to those he was called to minister to. As shown above, Damien considered himself to be one of the people, even if fulfilling a leadership role. So in this case I do not think that the issue of colonialism is relevant. The lepers of Molokai were undeniably better off because of the organization introduced by Fr. Damien, even if it was in some ways foreign to native tradition.

Another aspect of Damien’s ministry that endeared him to his flock and as well to a number of well-meaning people around the world, particularly in England and the United States, was the fact that from the beginning of his mission on Molokai he considered himself the representative of Jesus to all who suffered, not only those who were willing to profess Roman Catholicism. Damien had been raised in an era and in a cultural milieu that would have considered his acceptance of all sufferers as equals heretical. Indeed there is evidence that at the beginning of his mission in Hawaii and even at the beginning of his role as pastor to the lepers he saw Protestants of any stripe as heretics.[28] And there is plenty of evidence that the Catholic mission was regarded with distrust by the various other Christian missionary groups in Hawaii.[29] But from the beginning of his tenure on Molokai Damien refused to act out those prejudices in regards to the suffering population. One example of this was how Fr. Damien distributed relief goods to all equally rather than favoring those who professed Catholicism over those who did not. This not only had the effect not only of increasing the attractiveness of the Catholic Church but it invited interest in his mission by Protestants and others in England and the United States. His generosity added to the success of his mission. The praises that accompanied his name throughout the West brought generous outpourings of support from Catholics, Protestants, and those who cared little for religion.[30]

This leads to the third aspect of Damien’s ministry that I find of interest: how he dealt with the reaction to his work. By the 1880s Fr. Damien’s work was known and admired throughout the West. This brought physical support for his mission as well as a number of accolades from near and far, including the Cross of the Royal Order of Kalakaua, a kind of a knighthood in the Hawaiian Monarchy. There is no evidence that his fame ever “went to his head.” His own correspondence and observers’ reports up until the end of his life portray a man of extreme and genuine humility. However, his notoriety was certainly noticed and resented by government officials in Hawaii and by his superiors in the Catholic hierarchy. Both saw his and his admirers’ portrayals of the conditions on Molokai and of his own situation as bad PR. Damien never flinched in the face of criticism from the government and in fact through his life he maintained a fruitful working relationship with the Department of Public Health. They saw the necessity of his services and were willing to work with him to accomplish things they could not without him. But he was forced to endure what can only be described as pettiness on the part of his superiors. In response to this he remained obedient and non-critical. He endured undeserved reproach with humility and grace.

How is the life of Father Damien relevant to me personally? That relevance arises in large part out of the aspects of Damien’s ministry that I highlighted in the previous section. I identify with Damien’s zeal, with his fervor to do the work of God whatever the consequence was to be to him personally. Going further, it was not just a desire to do God’s work, but a desire to do the work of Jesus with complete abandon. Although as far as I can tell Damien was not driven by this scripture, I think his life exemplifies Paul’s exhortation to be like Jesus:

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant.[31]

Like Jesus, Damien left behind a safe and comfortable existence (though I doubt nineteenth-century Belgium can compare with heaven in glory) in order to live among those who needed his help. Damien could not physically heal like Jesus could, but he could bring spiritual healing, the greater aspect of Jesus’ work. He did so by identifying with the poorest of the poor, even taking on their burden of leprosy.

I have no desire nor calling to go into the foreign mission field (although I wouldn’t mind going to Hawaii), and I certainly do not hope to catch leprosy, but I think on a spiritual level I am called to do the same as Fr. Damien with those I am given to minister to. They are not lepers but they are broken, and I see myself called to identify with that brokenness and to show the power of God in overcoming it. Although I do not see myself as only a pastor to substance abusers, I see my experience with that kind of brokenness as something God can use for the benefit of his people and the glory of his Kingdom. And beyond that my own experience of brokenness provides the basis for identification with those who are lost in sin and seeking comfort and “good news.” So in this way I see myself as ministering to many who are cast aside by society and even the Church.

I see Damien’s response to the reaction of others to his work as instructive. I do not seriously imagine that I will ever garner any kind of mass appeal, and if I did I would hope to be able to handle it with equanimity as Damien did. I think that as Christian evangelists we are more likely to encounter public criticism and condemnation than be overwhelmed by accolades. I take more from Damien’s response to his critics, so much like Jesus’ own response before the Sanhedrin and the political authorities of his day, to remain silent and obedient to the mission – to Jesus.

Finally I see Damien’s spiritual generosity, so unusual in his own day and to a great extent still in ours, as a model. Again, this fits very nicely with the concept of hospitality that has been a theme of this course. As a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ I cannot abandon orthodoxy in order to make it more palatable to those who might never believe anyway. But as an ambassador of Jesus Christ, whose ministry was to the poor, the abandoned, the outsiders, I have a responsibility to make sure that his gospel is presented as astonishingly “good news,” and not some Pharisaic exclusionary doctrine. That good news is preached, but it is also lived. It is welcoming hospitality to the “other,” with no expectation of return. So I will be Jesus to my brother, even if my brother despises me and my news. In that way I will follow in the footsteps of Fr. Damien of Molokai, and I will follow in the footsteps of Jesus.

---

[1] Jan de Volder, The Spirit of Father Damien: The Leper Priest – A Saint for Our Times, (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2010), Kindle Electronic Edition: Chapter 1, Location 198-215.

[2] Ibid., Location 230-42, 270-84.

[3] Ibid., Location 285-98.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid., Location 326-52.

[6] Ibid., Chapter 2, Location 382-93.

[7] Ibid., Location 402-16.

[8] Ibid., Location 431-44.

[9] Ibid., Location 459-72.

[10] Ibid., Location 487-99.

[11] Ibid., Location 514-27.

[12] C.H. Binford, “The History and Study of Leprosy in Hawaii,” Public Health Reports (1876-1970), Vol. 51 No. 15 (Apr. 10, 1936), 415-423.

[13] Penny Moblo, “Leprosy, Politics, and the Rise of Hawaii’s Reform Party,” The Journal of Pacific History, Vol. 34, No. 1, June 1999, 75-89.; de Volder, The Spirit of Father Damien, Chapter 3, Location 741-54.

[14] de Volder, The Spirit of Father Damien, Introduction, Location 79-92.

[15] Ibid., Chapter 2, Location 608-21.

[16] Ibid., Chapter 3, Location 718-26.

[17] Ibid., Chapter 4, Location 977-85.

[18] Ibid., Location 968-76.

[19] Ibid., Chapter 3, Location 757-66.

[20] Ibid., Chapter 6, Location 1800-8.

[21] Ibid., Chapter 8, Location 2709-18.

[22] Ibid., Chapter 3, Location 745-52.

[23] Damien to Father Marcellin Bousquet, Superior General, August 1873, quoted in Ibid., Chapter 4, Location 881-88.

[24] Gavan Daws, ­Holy Man: Father Damien of Molokai, (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1989), 152.

[25] de Voster, The Spirit of Father Damien, Chapter 3, Location 757-66.

[26] Ibid., Chapter 5, Location 1298-305.

[27] Ibid., Chapter 6, Location 1742-50.

[28] Ibid., Chapter 5, Location 1245-53.

[29] Ibid., 1236-44.

[30] Ibid., 1245-53.

[31] Philippians 2:4-7 ESV

Jesus Talks About His Church in John 17

[In John 17:11] Jesus shows the kind of profound unity that should be the norm among genuine believers. As the following verses indicate (through John 17:26), this is to be a reflection of the unity that has existed eternally between the Father and the Son (v. 11), namely, the unity of a common mind and purpose, an unqualified mutual love, and a sustained comprehensive togetherness in mission, as revealed in the Father-Son relationship characterized by Jesus' own ministry. Such unity is the result of Jesus' active work of “keeping” (vv. 12, 15) and “guarding” (v. 12); it results in believers being filled with joy (v. 13; see also 3:29; 15:11; 16:24; 1 John 1:4); it is rooted in the truth of God's word (John 17:14, 17, 20); it involves “sanctification,” that is, in the sense of consecration to serve (vv. 17, 19); it becomes a witness to the world so that “the world may believe” (v. 21); it is for the revelation of God's glory (v. 24); and it results in the experience of the indwelling love of God and the presence of Christ (v. 26). The kind of unity that is central to Jesus' high priestly prayer is not organizational but is an all-encompassing relational reality that binds believers together with each other and with their Lord—a unity that can be achieved only through the regenerating and sanctifying work of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Although individual Christians, and the church in general, tend to fall short of the fullness of unity that the Lord intends, whenever such unity is even partially realized (never at the expense of truth or holiness; v. 17) the result will always be deep joy (v. 13), a persuasive witness to the world (vv. 21, 23), and a display of God's glory (v. 22). – ESV Study Bible Note on John 17:11

Book Review: King’s Cross

Keller, Timothy. King’s Cross: The Story of the World in the Life of Jesus, New York: Dutton, 2011.

I’m going to cut past the suspense and say outright that this is a good book. I’ll tell you why at the end but I wanted to get that out of the way. In King’s Cross author Timothy Keller sets himself the rather imposing goal of telling the story of the world in 230 pages. And remarkably, this book does succeed in effectively communicating the only story about the world ultimately worth telling. It does so by offering a selective journey through the gospel of Mark. According to the introduction the raw material for the volume consists of a number of sermons on the gospel Pastor Keller has delivered over the years. Thus the book has a pastoral rather than a scholarly appeal, and I think that is a good thing.

The book is divided into two sections corresponding to the narrative of Mark’s gospel: the first part dealing with the first eight chapters of Mark wherein Jesus is revealed as King, the second part addressing the last eight chapters of the gospel focusing on the work of the Cross. There are a number of threads that weave their way through the narrative including three I’m going to focus on in this review. The three are a comparison of Christianity with other belief systems, the importance of the historical accuracy of the gospel story, and underlying everything the constant and consistent focus on the importance of the cross.

Keller states in the beginning of the book that he hopes to write for believers, seekers, and non-believers all at once. This in itself is tricky but I think it succeeds. I say I think because I am happy to find myself in the ranks of the fortunate who count themselves in the first category; I don’t know what this book might say to me if I was not a believer already. I suspect there are many who would scoff at the arguments presented but I doubt if someone who was very hostile would even bother. That being said, I think any who are truly curious about Christianity will find an accurate apologetic that appeals to reason but doesn’t downplay what some might consider the harder truths.

The first distinction Keller makes is not with any other religion but with religion itself, making the claim that the difference between religion and Christianity is the difference between advice and news. Religion, he says, advises individuals on the proper actions they must take to achieve the aim of religion, presumably a good life on earth and perhaps eternal life after. This lays the burden of salvation, or whatever the burden is, on the individual because it is based on proper adherence to the given advice. On the other hand, Keller points out that the gospel is ευ-αγγελιον (eu-angelion, from whence comes the English evangelize) – which literally means good news. It’s more than good news actually; it’s news of a major victory or some other great joyful event. And what is this news? Men are no longer responsible for their own salvation. Jesus has completely accomplished the impossible by satisfying all that is required for men to enjoy intimacy with God; hence there is no need for advice. Jesus already did what needs to be done. The purpose of the gospel, then, is to invite people to the fullness of life available as the consequence of Jesus’ mission.

This theme is carried throughout the book, accompanied by an occasional comparison of Christianity with other world belief systems including no belief system, showing how Christianity is not only unique among all of them but can as well lay a unique claim to truth. If the reader finds this offensive I would suggest reading Keller’s arguments and then considering whether he has made the case. From my point of view he has done so more than adequately, but I already admitted I’m biased. Concurrently, as Keller weaves his way through Mark’s narrative he points out reasons why the account can and must be considered an accurate chronicle rather than a fairy tale. Again I’m not going to detail the arguments but I believe they deserve serious consideration by anyone who is honestly curious.

I have the good fortune of being exposed to gospel-centered preaching on a consistent basis so I found Keller’s constant and consistent focus on the sacrificial nature of Jesus’ mission to be almost redundant. I was tempted to say (not out loud of course) “I already know that, let’s move on already.” But of course that’s just pride and I don’t think Keller can be faulted for reminding the reader on nearly every page (if not on every page) that Jesus died for the reader’s sins; that without that sacrifice nothing else would matter because without the work of the cross there is no life for anyone. That is, in fact, the story of the world that Keller set out to tell at the beginning.

I found the book to be enlightening enjoyable. The story is accurately and intelligently related and the arguments worthy of serious consideration. I believe it is a book that is accessible by the full range of the target audience Keller set out to address. I found myself marking a number of pages containing insights I had not previously thought of. And when I got to the end, where Keller was explaining the significance and the magnitude of the cross and the resurrection, I wept. That’s why I think it’s a good book. Because any book that can make a hardened old cynic weep must truly be special.

Rob Bell a Heretic?

What do you guys think? Is Rob Bell a heretic?

Rob Bell punches back against claims of heresy

Is This True of Me?

I like this part:

Never consider whether or not you are of use— but always consider that “you are not your own” (1 Corinthians 6:19). You are His.

Is This True of Me?

“If this man is really a Christian, how can I be a Christian?”

A politician can go around saying he stands for God, when what he really stands for is racism, and so racism becomes equated with Christianity. This is idolatry, it is turning things inside out. And it is the same with nationalism – people say we will equate our national outlook with Christianity, and suddenly all these things which have nothing at all to do with Christianity become identified with Christianity. This is a serious problem because it is a great scandal to people who have trouble with faith today. They say, “If this man is really a Christian, how can I be a Christian?” – Thomas Merton

Why We Live in Community

Anyone interested in the fellowship and community building should read this book. It is short and it is free. And it is powerful.

Why We Live in Community, a free ebook to download by Eberhard Arnold

http://www.plough.com/ebooks/whycommunity.html

With two interpretive talks by Thomas Merton, this little book describes the great adventure of faith shared by those who are willing to trade isolation for companionship, and will further inspire those already traveling the road to community. Free ebook to download in .pdf, .prc, and .epub formats.

What Does It Mean to be in the Image of God?

 

God himself is relational in the Trinity, and because we are created in the Image of God we are thus also relational. This is actually a topic which is dear to me because I have come to understand the Church as the presence of God on earth. A statement about Imago Dei that informs and accurately reflects my thinking on the subject is found in Emil Brunner’s Christian Doctrine of Creation and Redemption published in English in 1952. Here Brunner argues that being created in the image of God means

…that man should really give the answer which the Creator intends, the response in which God is honored, and in which he fully imparts Himself, the response of reverent, grateful love, given not only in words, but in his whole life. The New Testament, in its doctrine of the Imago Dei, tells us that this right answer has not been given; that quite a different one has been given instead, in which the glory is not given to God, but to man and to creatures, in which man does not live in the love of God, but seeks himself. Secondly, the New Testament is the proclamation of what God has done in order that He may turn this false answer into the true one.

Here, therefore, the fact that man has been “made in the image of God” is spoken of as having been lost, and indeed as wholly, and not partially lost. Man no longer possesses this Imago Dei; but it has been restored through Him, through whom God gives and glorifies Himself: through Jesus Christ. The restoration of the Imago Dei, the new creation of the original image of God in man, is identical with the gift of God in Jesus Christ received by faith.

The Imago Dei in the New Testament, “material” sense of the word, is identical with “being-in-the-Word” of God.[1]

If the image of God is love, it follows that it must be relational, because even God cannot love without an object of love. If there is no beloved, there can be no love. This relational aspect is hinted at in Genesis in the words “Let us create” (Gen 1:26, emphasis mine). The Trinitarian God consists of an everlasting relationship of love between the persons of the Godhead. The intended relationship of God to man is that same relationship of love, but because man was created with freedom, and man did not use that freedom rightly, the image was lost. When through faith man becomes identified with God in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the proper relationship is restored. But even more, because the image is universal in humans, the love of God that is reflected in man must be reflected to man as well, in the form of love toward our fellows. If the image of God in man is a reflection of the love relationship of the Trinity, then the relationship between man and man must also reflect that.

Another piece of the puzzle is put in place by the Biblical assertion that the Church is the body of Christ. This idea is foundational in the New Testament and summarized by Paul in 1 Cor. 12:12-31 where he compares the Church at Corinth with the parts of the human body. One of the weaknesses of that church was that it was splintered and schismatic, leaving the individual members to seek their own aggrandizement rather than the common good. So it is not by accident that Paul turns from the descriptive image of the body to the prescription of the solution in 1 Corinthians 13, love, which it will be noted is not a prescription to feeling but to action. The problem was that the Church in Corinth was not acting as a community but rather as a collection of competing individuals and thus was not reflecting the divine image but rather a human cacophony, and the solution was to self-sacrifice for the benefit of all.

In modern times both Dietrich Bonheoffer and Martin Luther King have voiced this understanding of the Church in community as the presence of God on earth. In his work The Cost of Discipleship Bonheoffer argues that the follower of Christ has been called out of the world but must give visible proof of his calling by living in fellowship and community.[2] Martin Luther King did not imagine justice as being either accomplished by or visited upon individuals but by and for the “Beloved Community,” which he imagined to consist of all peoples and to constitute God’s image on earth.

The last piece of the puzzle finally falls into place when we ask what does it mean in practice to be the Image of God on earth? In considering this question I think we have to call upon the basic premise that as Christ followers we are called to do what Christ did. Christ is our model. Thus, though in community we have concern for the welfare of each other, corporately we must have concern for the world. Why does the Church exist if not for continuing God’s work of redemption and reconciliation as Jesus commanded (Mt. 28:19-20)? And how is this better accomplished than by following the model of Jesus: to teach, to preach, to set a good example, to heal, to comfort, to reward devotion and to rebuke sin, to extend God’s love to everyone especially our enemies, to be the light of the world (Mt. 5:14), and to remain whole-heartedly and steadfastly obedient to God’s call for justice, righteousness, and love regardless of the cost (Phil 2:6-8)?

So the “Preferred Approach” of Spirituality in Community sings to me because I feel deeply that it is essential and vital to what it means to be a Christian. I believe that the Imago Dei is the reflection of God’s love in his creatures, that that reflection is obscured when mankind directs his love inwardly rather than outwardly, and that the image is restored only “in Christ.” To be “in Christ” means to be in community because the Church is the body of Christ. I think that the Christian community resembles the Trinity in that it is comprised of individuals in a relationship of love, which is not emotional but active, but that it exists at the same time as a unity. Jesus tells us explicitly that to be his follower we must follow him to Calvary (Mk. 8:34), and that means sacrifice for the sake of the world as a reflection of God’s unfathomable love for the world (John 3:16)..

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[1] Emil Brunner, Christian Doctrine of Creation and Redemption, (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1952), 61.

[2] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, (New York: Simon &Schuster, 1995), 258.

Who Do You Say That I Am?

And Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi. And on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they told him, “John the Baptist; and others say, Elijah; and others, one of the prophets.” And he asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Christ.” (Mark 8:27-29 ESV)

I absolutely believe that the incident described here is accurately reported by Mark; that it is an actual historical event in which Jesus asked his disciples specific questions about who others and they thought him to be. The context of this passage within the gospel according to Mark is the revelation of Jesus as the Messiah. Within the preceding narrative Jesus himself had deliberately downplayed the messianic nature of his mission. The reader knows from the first verse that Jesus is the son of God (Mk. 1:1) and the demons Jesus’ cast out knew (i.e., Mk 5:7) and there is a hint that those Jesus healed at least had suspicions (because he warns them to tell no one of the miracles he has performed). But the disciples are clueless (Mk. 4:41). Even after Jesus had performed such miracles as calming the storm at sea, walking on water, casting out demons, raising from the dead, performing many healings, and satisfying the hunger of large crowds with almost nothing, the disciples still did not understand (Mk. 8:21). The turning point of Mark’s narrative comes with Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Christ.

In the narrative Jesus does not dispute what Peter says, but he does warn Peter and the other disciples to say nothing about it. This may seem rather odd to us. One would think that if Jesus’ mission involved rescuing people he would be glad to be correctly identified. But I think he is careful to reveal himself as the messiah because he knows that in general people neither know what they need to be rescued from nor what the cost of being rescued would be. He indicates this in the next few verses after Peter’s confession by describing what his task was to mean for him personally, in the form of suffering, rejection, crucifixion, and resurrection (Mk. 8:31), and then what it would cost those who had been delivered: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” (Mk. 8:34)

There is plenty of evidence to indicate that the messianic expectations of first-century Jews focused on the return of a conquering hero who would rescue the nation from earthly oppressors. The idea that the messiah must suffer and die for the sins of the people was not unknown (Is. 53, Lk. 24:27), but it appears not to have been common. If Jesus had announced himself as the expected Messiah, particularly considering his growing popularity, he risked having his mission mistaken as a political rather than a spiritual one. Thus as soon as it dawned on the disciples who Jesus really was, he started to teach them about what it really meant.

Jesus asks this question of us as well. Who do you say that Jesus is? Everything depends on our answer. You cannot possibly read this account (Mk. 8:31-38) without concluding that Jesus considers both his messianic mission and the cost of discipleship to encompass everything. Mark’s treatment of the disciple’s obtuseness in coming to grips with this fact is instructive for us, demonstrating that Jesus does not expect instant and perfect understanding. But if we are to call ourselves followers of Jesus, we must eventually come to realize it will cost our lives: not just in some metaphysical spiritual way, but our whole lives. Jesus is not some wise and kindly sage who offers tips and insights on how to get along in life; he is in fact the incarnation of God. C.S. Lewis states this masterfully in his book Mere Christianity:

I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: 'I'm ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don't accept His claim to be God.' That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic - on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg - or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronising nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.[1]

To be a follower of Jesus does not mean to have a rich daddy who spoils us, helping us to avoid suffering and making our lives on earth comfortable. Nor does it mean to have a profound teacher of philosophy who gives us insight on how best to conduct ourselves. It means to surrender to his messianic mission. It means, in the end, to give up our entire selves, body and soul; to allow Jesus to live through us (Gal. 2:20). Jesus is either everything or else he is nothing. Who do you say that he is?

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[1] C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, (New York: The MacMillan Company, 1960), pp. 40-41.

Rebuilding the Temple

“You looked for much, and behold, it came to little. And when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why? declares the LORD of hosts. Because of my house that lies in ruins, while each of you busies himself with his own house. “ (Haggai 1:9 ESV)

I thank God for Bible reading plans that get me into areas I might not otherwise ever consider looking at. The reading this morning was the first chapter of the prophet Haggai. I know I have read this before but for some reason today it really struck me as an important message for me personally and for us as Christians in the modern world.

We must first understand the reading in its historical context. The Jewish nation had made a covenant with Yahweh at Mount Sinai. The covenant was a legal agreement in which Yahweh promised to bless and prosper Israel if they kept the stipulations of the covenant. The stipulations were embodied in the Mosaic law but I think it is important that the law, though incredibly complex and in some ways unintelligible to us, was intended to make Israel the beacon of God’s love, compassion, and justice. That meant that rather than giving into the temptations of the world as had all of the other peoples of the Earth, Israel was to remain absolutely true to God alone, demonstrating in their lives the attributes of the one true God, and thus drawing all peoples to Him as God had promised Abraham (Gen. 26:4). Thus, even though the law was complex, its foundation was both simple and profound: it was the love of God.

For the next several centuries the Israelites ignored, violated, and eventually forgot the covenant they had made with God and instead became indistinguishable from the pagan nations surrounding them. In spite of the fact that prophet after prophet came to warn them they were incapable of obedience. Finally the City of Jerusalem was sacked, the temple destroyed, and the Jewish people were dragged into exile in Babylon. Seventy years later the Babylonian Empire was defeated by the Persians and the Jews were allowed to return to Israel to rebuild the temple. Common Jewish thought after the return from exile attributed their national calamity to their infidelity to the covenant.

Haggai is one of the post-exilic prophets. When the exiles from Babylon returned to Jerusalem from exile their immediate task was to rebuild the city, including the walls and the temple. But the rebuilding was beset by so many difficulties that the effort was quickly abandoned as the exiles set about attempting to rebuild their own lives in the promised land. It is in this context that Haggai addresses the people. They were attempting to rebuild their lives but were having a tough go of it. Haggai tells them the reason: they were living for themselves rather than for God. He pointed out to them that they could not expect to prosper under those conditions; that the blessings of God are experienced only in devotion to Him. In the case of the people of Haggai’s time that meant dedicating themselves to rebuilding the temple.

Listen to what Haggai tells the people:

Now, therefore, thus says the LORD of hosts: Consider your ways. You have sown much, and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes. (Haggai 1:5-6 ESV)

Does this not sound eerily familiar? Is not this in fact the condition in which we find ourselves and our society? Are we not constantly grasping after more and more material possessions, sensual experiences, and social acceptance to try to fill an unfathomable emptiness? What is the basic cause of this futility? It is, as God told the returning exiles through the prophet Haggai, that we are devoted to building our own house rather than God’s.

In the New Testament age we consider the Temple not as a building in Jerusalem but rather as our own selves (1 Cor. 3:16). How does one devote oneself to rebuilding that temple? Not by our own efforts, but by surrender to Jesus. Just as the Old Testament Israelites were only able to prosper by devoting themselves to God, so we are only able to prosper by devotion to Jesus, by doing his work, by living his life. Not that we are blessed because of our works, but that by surrender to him we allow him to work through us. Ask him earnestly to use you as an instrument of his love, and you will find yourself both blessed and a blessing.

From “A Time to Break Silence”

Everybody loves the "I Have a Dream" speech for it's powerful oratory and compelling imagery and now we look at it with smug satisfaction and say "see how we solved that problem!" So the way we see it now really just lulls us back to sleep and injustice continues to flourish. The following quote is from a different, lesser known speech delivered by King exactly one year before he was murdered. It reveals a King who is radical enough to still make us uncomfortable. But I think this address is in many ways more powerful and more prophetic than King's better known speeches.

--Quote starts below.

I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a "thing-oriented" society to a "person-oriented" society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.

A true revolution of values will soon cause us to question the fairness and justice of many of our past and present policies. On the one hand we are called to play the good Samaritan on life's roadside; but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life's highway. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it is not haphazard and superficial. It comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring. A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth. With righteous indignation, it will look across the seas and see individual capitalists of the West investing huge sums of money in Asia, Africa and South America, only to take the profits out with no concern for the social betterment of the countries, and say: "This is not just." It will look at our alliance with the landed gentry of Latin America and say: "This is not just." The Western arrogance of feeling that it has everything to teach others and nothing to learn from them is not just. A true revolution of values will lay hands on the world order and say of war: "This way of settling differences is not just." This business of burning human beings with napalm, of filling our nation's homes with orphans and widows, of injecting poisonous drugs of hate into veins of people normally humane, of sending men home from dark and bloody battlefields physically handicapped and psychologically deranged, cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice and love. A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.

Extremists for Love

“The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority.”[1]

On Monday we will be celebrating the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. My experience tells me that Dr. King after all these years is still a divisive figure, but I think he is not as divisive as he should be. I contend that his memory has been sanitized to make him into a very safe, but not very controversial, martyr. His legacy starts with the very real struggle for justice by African Americans, but our culture has focused on a myopic view of his life and work which in the end constructs a story about a courageous black man and the triumph of the melting pot. In this formulation Martin Luther King’s life and death helped to make it possible for everyone to share equally in the “American Dream.” If you think about what that means practically, it is that we all have equal access to a life “style” of self-centered over-consumption as the ultimate end of life. And I will argue that this view twists Dr. King’s actual message beyond recognition.

One of the ways in which we have neglected to understand King is by overlooking the fact that he was and always claimed to be first and foremost a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Because we live in a secular society the celebration of Christian virtues is often minimized in public discourse to the extent that it is rendered “inoffensive.” Let’s leave aside the fact that the gospel intends to be offensive to the world and just observe that to separate an understanding of the gospel from Dr. King’s message robs both of their power. The true meaning of sacrifice is obscured by notions of secular virtue and sappy emotionalism. And I think it is safe to say that this dilution occurs not only in the public discourse but within the church as well; that too often the church comfortably reflects the values of society rather than the counter-cultural offensiveness of the gospel.

In 1963 Martin Luther King was jailed in Birmingham, Alabama for leading a campaign of civil disobedience aimed at dismantling the institutionalized segregation that effectively created a legally inferior class of the African-American community. While incarcerated he wrote the letter we have come to know as the “Letter from Birmingham City Jail” or to a lesser degree as “The Negro is Your Brother.” This was an open letter but it responded specifically to a group of white pastors who had criticized Dr. King’s activities against injustice in Birmingham. They had accused him among other things of being an “extremist” outside agitator. His response was

…[A]s I began to think about the matter I gradually gained a bit of satisfaction from being considered an extremist. Was not Jesus an extremist in love – “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you.” Was not Amos an extremist for justice – “Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.” … So the question is not whether we will be extremist but what kind of extremist will we be. Will we be extremists for hate or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice – or will we be extremists for the cause of justice?[2]

The gospel is extremist. Jesus was extreme in the accomplishment of his mission “…though he was in the form of God, [Christ] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6-8 ESV) (See also Mt. 26:39) As disciples (followers) of Jesus, we look to him as our model. We must be willing, along with Paul and the apostles and all of those who have since devoted themselves unreservedly to the gospel, like King, to be martyred in the service of God. And though for most of us this does not mean physical torture and death, it at least requires the death of our worldly selves as we are born into communion with Christ. “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20 ESV) Jesus will have our hearts in whole or not at all.

So in reflecting on the upcoming holiday I think it is time that we recover the meaning of Martin Luther King’s life for us as Christians. Yes, he was concerned about the African American community but as a minister of the gospel he was concerned about God’s “Beloved Community,” which he believed consists of all who are in Christ. In a lesser known speech in opposition to the war in Vietnam delivered by Dr. King exactly one year before his death he made this clear. In explaining his motivation he pointed out his obligation to “the brotherhood of man” as a recipient of the Nobel Prize for Peace. He then went on to say

This is a calling that takes me beyond national allegiances, but even if it were not present I would yet have to live with the meaning of my commitment to the ministry of Jesus Christ. To me the relationship of this ministry to the making of peace is so obvious that I sometimes marvel at those who ask me why I am speaking against the war. Could it be they do not know the good news was meant for all men – for Communist and capitalist, for their children and ours, for black and for white, for revolutionary and conservative? Have they forgotten that my ministry is in obedience to the one who loved his enemies so fully he died for them?[3]

As we remember the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., let us rededicate ourselves as followers of Jesus to live as he lived. We are called to do more than simply admire Jesus, we are to live his life, or, more specifically, we are to surrender so fully that he can live his life through us. Martin Luther King was exemplary in this regard, but our remembrance of him is insipid. Let us honor the legacy of Dr. King by not only recalling the sacrificial spirit of his life but by surrendering ourselves to the prophetic nature of our own calling: to be the hands and feet of God, regardless of the cost.

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[1] Martin Luther King, Jr. “The Strength to Love” in James M. Washington, ed., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr.,(San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1991), 501.

[2] Martin Luther King, Jr. “Letter from Birmingham City Jail” in Washington, ed., A Testament of Hope, 297, 298.

[3] Martin Luther King, Jr. “A Time to Break Silence” in Washington, ed., A Testament of Hope, 234.

A Dark, Smelly Place

“And I will show you a still more excellent way.” (1 Corinthians 12:31 ESV)

I want to get it straight from the beginning that I think American politics is a cesspool. The bulk of it consists of what might otherwise be sensible people willingly abandoning their capacity to reason in favor of making political “points.” Shrill cries and denunciations, demonization, hyperbole, and outright dishonesty are the order of the day in the best of circumstances. When tragedy strikes, otherwise horrendous discourse becomes even worse as sides jockey for position. There exists a pervasive delusion that if we can only convince our fellows to arrange society in the way we think best, by whatever means, we will be able to create paradise on Earth. This attitude coincides with the logical counterpoint that if our opponents win the day it will represent the triumph of Satan. All of this ignores the fact that in the overall spectrum of political ideas the differences between the so-called “left” and “right” in America are almost indistinguishable. It also ignores that humans, left to their own devices, cannot create paradise, only hell.

So having said all that I will venture a bold statement here that no one can be blamed more than anyone else for what happened in Arizona this last weekend, except for the lone gunman who actually planned and carried out the attack. It is painful. To look at the sunny face of the beautiful little girl who lost her life in this tragic way, it just tears my heart out. I can only scarcely imagine the anguish her parents must feel at such a profound loss. And all of us have lost something. It engenders an enormous sadness in me; I think in many it provokes outrage that seeks a target. I also think, to illustrate the depravity of American politics, that in some it presents an opportunity to score political “points.” All of this is very human. It is not new to American politics or to human affairs.

One of the greatest lines in the movies occurs in The African Queen when Charlie Allnut protests that to drink to excess is “only human nature.” Rose Sayer, played by the inimitable Katherine Hepburn, responds “Nature, Mr. Allnut, is what we are put in this world to rise above.” Well, I don’t know that we can say categorically that is why we are put here, but Scripture does tell us unequivocally that as Christians we are called to a higher standard than that of the world.

In the verse quoted above from 1 Corinthians Paul introduces the famous chapter concerning love. Most Christians probably know but I think it instructive to point out that this chapter, cited so often in reference to human romantic emotion, was not given to the Christians at Corinth to inspire them but to rebuke them. The church at Corinth suffered from division, factionalism, open sexual immorality, favoritism, and spiritual pride, among I’m sure every other human failing. They had accepted the gospel gladly but they had not been changed by it. Rather than undergoing transformation by the Holy Spirit and becoming a community set apart to draw people to the gospel by their behavior (1 Pet. 2:9, John 13:35, Mt. 5:16), the Corinthians had made their church community look little different from the surrounding society, little different from the world. Rather than a force to reshape the world, the church had been shaped by the world. Paul wrote the letter we call 1 Corinthians to admonish the church there and to remind them of how they were called to behave as Christians.

Go and read chapter 13 of 1 Corinthians and consider it in light of your emotions and your actions. In verses 4-7 replace the word “love” with your own name. “Keith is patient and kind; Keith does not envy or boast; …is not arrogant or rude …does not insist on its own way; …is not irritable or resentful; …does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Keith bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” I am embarrassed. How do you measure up? If we are honest we cannot but acknowledge our inadequacy to live up to this standard. Nevertheless it is what we are called to as followers of Christ. As humans we are incapable, but in Christ we have strength (John 16:33).

Now let us consider Paul’s rebuke in our own circumstances. In the midst of the present tragedy, as at all times, how must a Christian act? Are we to succumb to the temptation to join in the chorus of recrimination and condemnation, or are we to “rise above,” to be Jesus’ hands and feet in the world? What would that look like? The Sheriff of Pima County Clarence Dupnik suggested on the day of the shooting that the nation ought to “do a little soul searching.” Well, I guess I second that, except that I don’t believe it will. But I do think that as followers of Christ we must seriously ask ourselves how we can shine the light of Christ in the world, rather than swimming in the darkness of the cesspool. I think we will discover it looks very little like what we are naturally inclined to.