The Theology of Greetings in December

It's that time of year when the perennial conversation begins - are we keeping Christ in Christmas? Particularly, is Christmas being diluted if someone wishes me Seasons Greetings or Happy Holidays instead of wishing me a Merry Christmas? Is wishing me something other than Merry Christmas undermining the importance of Jesus Christ in my life of faith?

To the latter questions, the answer is "No." In fact, I think it is incredibly important that someone who doesn't feel called to wish me a Merry Christmas shouldn't be made to. That people who is trying to respect the diversity of their community by wishing a broader greeting of Season Greetings or Happy Holidays should be respected for it.

My reasons for this are rooted in my theology, in my understanding who Jesus Christ is, and how he chose to be present in our world. Christ comes to us as a tiny, infant child. It is difficult to be more vulnerable than a newborn. Did God need to come as an infant? No. In fact, the assumption was that God would come in traditional power and might. Instead God chose the antithesis of force, chosing to come as an infant. God chose to be incredibly vulnerable, therefor immediately connecting with all those who are vulnerable.

So in celebrating the birth of Jesus, everything I do related to that celebration should be without force. That means even something as small as not insisting that others wish me a Merry Christmas, or insisting on wishing everyone else a Merry Christmas if I know they follow another religion.

In part of that famous verse John 3:16, we hear, "God so loved the world that God gave his only son." Jesus, our Christ, came in love. Love of the all of creation, of each one of us. So for me, when I celebrate the birth of Jesus, everything I do related to that celebration should be done in love.

Part of living in the love of Christ is to meet people where they are and loving them in the now. I make a point of wishing Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends and Merry Christmas to my Christian friends and family.

If in a store and a clerk wishes me Happy Holidays, I respond in kind; if it's Merry Christmas, I respond in kind. If my non-religious friends were to wish me a Happy Solstice, I'll reply in kind. If I happened to be wished a Happy Kwanzaa, I will reply in kind as well.

If someone who doesn't know me, but assumes from my strong nose and curly hair that I'm Jewish (it's been known to happen) and were to wish me a Happy Hanukkah, I would smile and wish them a Happy Hanukkah.

In wishing Happy Hanukkah, I am joining in a small way in celebrating the miracle of God and God's unending covenant. In wishing someone a Happy Kwanzaa (which isn't a religion, BTW), I am supporting the idea of taking time to remember the African/pan-African/Black experience as they reflect on the values of unity, self-determination, collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity, and faith. I am acknowledging the times throughout the generations when those who are African/pan-African/Black have been incredibly vulnerable due to the actions of those with power.  In wishing someone a Happy Solstice, I am celebrating the return to light - which is why early Christians set the celebration of Jesus' birth at this very time of year, because we understand Jesus as the light of the world.

In replying in kind to the whole list of greetings one might have in December, including Season's Greetings and Happy Holidays, I am not denying my faith, I am living my faith. I am doing my best to love those around me as Jesus loves each of us. Love beyond all reason is what the birth of Jesus is about. It is the gift of joy, hope, and peace, a refuting of the sin of shame, fear, and force. It is the love of a God all-powerful who chose instead to be all-vulnerable. That is worth celebrating, however we word it.

Always Reforming

Tomorrow is Reformation Sunday, with actual Reformation Day following on October 31. I've always

People without much background on the Reformation tend to think, "How funny that Martin Luther nailed the 95 Theses to the Wittenberg Church door on Halloween." I particularly this Lego Stop Action spoof of it. 

Humor aside, there's a really logical reason for Luther's notice on that particular night. He knew that All Saint's Day, November 1, was a day when people made a particular point of coming to worship and remembering those who had died before them. He knew they'd see his posting, as the door acted as a bulletin board for the community. (This is why, when you see the clip from the Luther movie, there are other posting on the door when he nails the 95Ts.)

A good summary with visuals for what led Luther to post the 95 Theses, why that turned out to be the start of what we now call the Reformation is here. Followed by an amusing claymation of the Pope's reaction. (Note the claymation starts out crazy loud. Adjust volume accordingly.

While all this is helpful to know, what it boils down to is that while Luther wanted open discussion about the things he questioned and wanted reformation within the Catholic church, what he got was excommunication and the start of the Protestant Reformation. Which led to not only Lutheranism, but several other types of protestant denominations, as explained by Chuck Knows Church (listen for the Star Wars references).

So while it's good to know one's history, understand why All Hallow's Eve, and not confuse Martin Luther with Martin Luther King Jr., why care enough to celebrate the Reformation?

For me it's a more than Lutheran pride, a joy of brass instruments belting out A Mighty Fortress, and seeing people where matching colors (red) when it isn't the day of a big sporting event.

I celebrate the Reformation because the church is always reforming. The Holy Spirit continues to be among us, stirring us to read our Bible, use our critical thinking skills, and ask questions. Sometimes, like with Martin Luther, reading the Bible directly lead him to question things that just weren't Biblical (indulgences). Sometimes, like during the slavery in America, reading one's Bible led to question the idea that slavery was really part of God's intended kingdom, even if it was in the Bible, leading to the Underground Railroad and the Anti-Slavery movement.

I see the Spirit at work in the fuller inclusion of gay and lesbian persons and pastors in the life of the ELCA. I also see a lot more work ahead  for the Spirit and for the church in this area.

I also know there's reformation to come that I can't yet imagine but will seem well overdue when it does happen. It may bring upheaval and disruption, but yet I know that the Spirit is not just stirring us up, but present and supporting us as we struggle to make sense of God's word in our ever changing world. In that my faith rests.

Tides, Taxes, Tithes, and Tidings of Great Joy

A line from this coming Sunday's text has been rolling around in my mind. "Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?" Followed by Jesus' response of, "Give therefore to the emperor what is the emperor's, and to God the things that are God's."(NRSV)

What does it mean to be a people of faith who live in a system of taxation? It definitely means something different for myself as an American in a modern era than it did to a people who lived under Roman occupation.

For many in the United States, there is a feeling that taxes are oppressive, but for the Jews of Jesus' time, they really were oppressive. The taxes were financially crippling, taking animals, land, or forcing people into slavery if they couldn't pay.  (See first 3:09) And there certainly wasn't representation or seeing value for the taxes paid.

Knowing that, it's easier to understand how tempting it would be when asked, "Should we pay Caesar's tax?" for Jesus to say "No.The taxes are both unjust and Caesar is not God, regardless of what he claims."

But Jesus didn't.  Jesus did not come to create an uprising, to use force to battle Rome and overthrow their terrible, oppressive yoke. Jesus came to free us all by his own death and resurrection. His words of giving to God the things that are God's "assert[s] the sovereignty of God that was the basis for Israel's ultimate freedom." (Senior, Donald; ANTC Matthew)

And now here we are, living in God's kingdom, both here and not yet here. How do we deal with taxes and money? How do live into lives of justice in a complicated world?

I do believe in the idea of the common good. I believe in giving my tithe back to my church both for the ministry at Elim proper, but also for the ways we as the Saint Paul Area Synod and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America "work for justice and peace throughout the earth." I'm sure if I took a fine tooth comb to the various budgets, I might not agree with every little detail, but overall I really do trust and believe in the work of my church on all three levels, done in the name of Christ.

I also believe that there are things that can only be achieved through combining our monies through taxes. Martin Luther often spoke of the idea that a well-run government is a blessing from God. Through government we have transportation access (from roads to mass-transit), education (from Head Start to land grant Universities), civil order (from police to courts to National Guard), protections for our most vulnerable (including the most basics of food, shelter, medical care), defense (our armed services), etc.

Do I agree with the all the choices my city, state, and national government make? No. There are a lot with which I disagree, from something as broad as how we proportion our budget to something as specific as our slowness to acknowledge, let along address the racism that leads to a disproportional number of black men being shot and killed by law enforcement. For me, my concerns are deeply informed by my Christian faith, even as I know others who share my concerns who are Jewish, agnostics or atheists. And just as I know there are other Christians whose faith leads them to place importance on matters of government that are quite different than my own.

It's complicated to be a good government with so many conflicting ideas of what government should and shouldn't be involved in. It's complicated to be a good citizen, paying my taxes when I have so many concerns about my tax money being used in ways that don't feel like they are for the common good or that work toward justice and peace throughout the earth. And yet I do pay them, and not only because I have to, but because I do think it is the right thing.

But I and my fellow citizens have options available to us that weren't available to Jews in occupation under Rome. I can vote, and do. I can read, discuss, and ponder life and policy in preparation for voting, and do. I can be a part of non-violent advocacy groups, and I am.

Above all, I can do exactly what Jews of Jesus' time did. I can recognize that Yahweh is the creator of all: skies, stars, seas, and soil; tides, taxes, tithes, and tidings of great joy; plants, people, possibilities, and peace. I can pray, and do, that God's Kingdom come, God's will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Kiva-versary

I learned via an email from Kiva that September 18, 2014 was the 5th anniversary of my first micro-loan via their organization. My first thought was, "Really? Where did those five years go?".

I started doing micro-loans because of the line from our confession in the ELW, "We confess that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed. By what we have done and what we have not done..."


There is so much done and not done that ripples out from me. I know my standard of living was built in part from leeching money, goods, and people of other placed. That here are (unintended) consequence, even decades later, of the political and economic policies of first world countries like the United States. I may not have made the policies or had a say in the companies or even been alive multiple years ago, but I know my country directly and myself indirectly benefited.

I can't fix everything, but that doesn't mean I should give up. In participating with thousands of (now over a million) other people, things can change. My $25 and his $25 and her $25 and their $25 and so on. I like the fact that Kiva works with people in their context. People who have dreams and aspirations and plans, but who don't fit in with what a traditional bank does or wants to do.

I also started doing micro-loans because I didn't know quite what to do with honorarium monies from funerals. For me, providing pastoral care and presiding at a funeral is part of my call within a congregation; it felt odd to receive additional monies for it. However, I'm aware that not all my colleagues are compensated at guidelines and that for some, funeral monies make a difference in their budgets, paying back student loans, etc. Because of that I didn't want to create a president of refusing the honorarium.

That's when earmarking the money for a particular purpose came to mind; I particularly liked the idea of life coming from death. That those funeral honorariums helped others throughout the world have a better life. To embody one of my favorite Bible verses: " I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." John 10:10

In the past 5 years I've deposited $1700 into Kiva loans. (Compared to many of my colleagues, I've presided at relatively few funerals.) As those loans have been repaid, I've relent that money multiple times. That means $5,850 has reached out to others. I'm amazed both in how little I've missed the money I've lent and how much my little bit has already done.

I give thanks for being able to see God's abundance at work in the world.

Watch out for that Tree!

For you shall go out in joy,
  and be led back in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
  shall burst into song,
and all the trees of the field
  shall clap their hands.

~Isaiah 55:12


I love the image of this passage. When I think of trees clapping their hands, there are two images that come to mind.

One is the Ents in Lord of the Rings. (Note to self - don't torque off the trees.) These aren't exactly happy trees. However they do embody the destruction and desolation of what has come become before to the people of Israel. War had come, they were defeated by the Babylonians and dragged off into servitude and slavery. Their lives and their hearts were broken. They are in exile and during that time come to terms with their own actions, particularly turning from God and trusting in powers other than God. As they return to God, they struggled to keep faith in the midst of despair.

My second image of hand-clapping trees is Lucy with Narnian trees. In Prince Caspian, the Pevensies return to Narnia to discover that all of the non-human creatures have gone into hiding. The talking animals don't talk in front of humans, to the degree that some have lost the ability to do so and have gone wild. The trees and tree spirits are silent. But in a dream, Lucy is reunited with the tree spirits, the trees again move and, more so, they lead her Aslan. Lucy asks him, "Why are you not helping us?" He replies, "Things never happen the same way twice."

Indeed. Narnia will be free again, but it will not be in the same way as the last time the Pevensies came to face the White Queen. Israel will be free again, but it will not be in the same way as when Moses led them out of Egypt. But what matters is knowing God has not abandoned them.

In this second half of Isaiah, God has said, "Enough." No more shall God's people be in captivity. No longer shall they be kept from their land and their homes. Grief and pain shall end, healing and hope and life shall begin. That the people of Israel will not only be freed, but they shall be a light for all nations. A hope for all peoples. A hope that extends outward to us.

God's Kingdom comes, is coming, will come again.

Baptized into a Death Like His

In 2006, post-Youth Gathering in San Antonio, Texas, we had some free time on our hands. This was because there are limited flight options when traveling to or from Fairbanks, Alaska. So in the cool of an air conditioned theatre, we took in the newly opened Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, the much anticipated sequel to the surprise break out hit of PotC.

There's a lot I've forgotten about that movie (something something Davy Jones' Locker, something something over the top fight scene, something something Keira Knightley's plump lips) but I've never forgotten this opening scene. (If possible, watch at least the first minute of the clip before reading further.)

While the whole audience burst into cheers when Captain Jack burst forth from his 'escape pod', I was bursting into giddy cheers for a whole other reason. It was a quintessential scene of resurrection. Life from death - and in the waters (of baptism) no less! I was experiencing theological palpitations!

To summarize the scene: here is a coffin, one of many, floating out on a sea. A raven pecks at it; the sound like the knocking on a door, booming with the hollowness of a tomb. Then that knock is answered. (Granted, in a way a bit unfortunate for the raven, who is now nevermore.) And from the gunshot hole, an arm, then the entire splintering of the lid. The music during all of this is perfect - eery and forlorn, then as Jack breaks free, swelling with triumph. He has returned - and mischief with him.

Then we learn in a practical, if ghoulish way that Jack wasn't alone in that coffin. He was sharing the space with someone long dead, reduced to bone. Again, this twining of life and death.

Romans 6:1b-11 is also that twining of life and death; in our Christ crucified there is not one without the other.

And it's not just resurrection following death-death, but also resurrection following death in baptism. As the opening words in our Order of Holy Baptism say:

"In baptism our gracious heavenly Father frees us from sin and death by joining us to the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are born children of a fallen humanity; by water and the Holy Spirit we are reborn children of God and made members of the church, the body of Christ. Living with Christ and in the communion of saints, we grow in faith, love, and obedience to the will of God." (p. 227, Evangelical Lutheran Worship)

In in this new life, we don't always know where we're going, but trust that Christ does. (Not dissimilar from Captain Jack's non-north pointing compass.)

We are claimed, changed, and a completely new course is charted. What are some of the unexpected places you've been since being baptized into Christ death?

If Pentecost were a Musical

As someone who loves to sing (and pretend to dance), I've often thought life would be a lot more interesting if it were a musical where we broke out in song and dance to express ourselves. However, this rarely occurs (unless you stumble across a 'flashmob' that's just happens to be the cast of the Godspell revival).

But the lack of musical moments in real life hasn't stopped me from making mental connections between lectionary texts and musical tunes or other bits of popular culture.

Pentecost is this Sunday (time to put on your red everyone). The biggie text is Acts 2:1-21. Suddenly with the Spirit upon them, everyone starts speaking in the variety of languages used by the Jews from far away places who were visiting Jerusalem. Imagine the crazy cacophony.

Imagine the releasing, the freeing that the Spirit is doing among the disciples. This is the turning point from them being huddled up, turned in upon themselves, and uncertain what to do, to being freed to share God's story with the world. Visions, dreams, prophesy - freed from fear and "ought tos" to imagine a whole new future where a Messiah is crucified for the sake of the world. 

Unsurprisingly some of them suggested, "They are filled with new wine." (Translation: They are drunk.)

Peter reassures folks that they aren't drunk (at least not drunk on wine maybe on the Holy Spirit). However the musical number that came to mind when I think of the joyful freedom does have someone who is a bit drunk. (She misunderstood the ratio of Bacardi to Milk in a Dolce de Leche.) When asked how she feels, she shares a whole variety of joy filled imagines, starting with "If I were a bell, I'd be ringing."

So how do you express the Spirit freed joy within you? How do you ring and swing?

Was Peter really fishing naked?

This past Sunday our Gospel text was John 21:1-19. In the middle of a lot of interesting theological stuff, there's a rather distracting line: "When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea." (New Revised Standard Version

Afterward a fairly brave parishioner asked, "Was he really naked?"

Good question, as I can't imagine it helpful to risk one's bait & tackle among the bait and tackle. Or in this case, gaffs & nets.

Sometimes looking to other translations and how they phrased things can be helpful: 

• "He wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water." ~New International Version
• "When Simon heard that it was the Lord, he put on the clothes that he had taken off while he was working. Then he jumped into the water." ~Contemporary English Bible
• "When Simon Peter realized that it was the Master, he threw on some clothes, for he was stripped for work, and dove into the sea." ~The Message, a paraphrase

They all provide the general sense that Peter wasn't wearing much and then pulled on some garment before jumping into the water. It's not that these translations are trying to be more discrete than the NRSV in describing Peter's state of dress (or lack there of). It's not that the NRSV got it wrong. It's the fact that translating involves making choices and trying to provide clarity. 

Raymond Brown, who wrote The Anchor Bible commentary on this section of John, circa 1970 (hey, it's what's at hand), provides some helpful information. He shares that the Greek word 'gymnos' can be translated as either 'naked' or 'lightly clad'. So it's probable, particularly given cultural custom as well as practicality, that Peter wasn't naked-naked, but wearing something akin to a loincloth.

Brown goes into a lengthy reflection on the oddness of Peter putting on clothes to then jump into the water. Perhaps like me, you remember being taught that water-soaked clothes are heavy and weigh one down. If one's boat/canoe/whatever tips over, it's best to shed those heavy clothes before swimming any distance.

The theories Brown reviewed boiled down to the idea that Peter had another garment on that would still qualify as 'lightly clad' and then he tucked up the garment, since the word "diazonnynai" can mean 'to put on clothes' as well as 'to tuck up into the cincture' (belt).

To have a better picture of what 'tucking up' means, imagine having on the long robe-like garments common to the time. If you took the hem of the backside of the garment, pulled it forward so it went around and over the front side, then tucked it into the belt, that would be 'tucking up'. It would keep the robe from tangling in one's legs. (Or at least this is my best guess for how tucking up would work.)
 
Personally, I think Peter's actions are meant to be odd and not due to the writer of John being less than clear. It's humorous that poor Peter is so frazzled that he puts on clothes before jumping in. Perhaps the main reason he was stripped down to the basics was to keep his clothes dry and free from the slime and smell of fish. So what does he do? Soaks his whole self in wet, fishy-smelling water because he can't wait an extra minute to greet Jesus. (That must of been a fun hug for Jesus!)

Peter's actions remind me of a story. One day Robert Redford entered a small town Montana ice cream shop. The woman who was already at the counter wanted to be respectful of Mr. Redford by not making a fuss, even though he made her twitterpatted. All was going well until she was given her ice cream cone and her change. She held onto her change and dropped her ice cream cone into her purse.

Like Peter, this fan of Redford's was so dazzled and distracted that she didn't even know what she's doing. Which is utterly adorbs to me.

So the next time you have the option of staying respectful or being a bit foolish for the sake of the Gospel, remember dripping wet Peter and go for it.