Walker in-the-Field

Field Report: Anglicanism: A Gift in Christ

April 17, 2009

            The Anglican Communion Institute’s conference, Anglicanism: A Gift in Christ, has just concluded.  In typical ACI fashion, the table was set with rich food: Lectures by the Rev. Dr. Ephraim Radner, the Rt. Rev. Anthony Burton, the Rev. Dr. Philip Turner, The Most Rev. and Rt. Hon. Dr. George Carey, Dr. Cheryl White, and Archbishop Bernard Ntahoturi. 

            As we all know, the big criticism perpetually leveled at ACI is that they “don’t do anything.”  It’s certainly true that they don’t advocate breaking catholic order for the sake of catholic doctrine.  Holding fast is doing something.  Or, as a retired general officer of my parish likes to say, “just because I don’t panic doesn’t mean I don’t care.”  Standing up for decency and order is, in and of itself, laudable.  Despots can get things done more quickly, but if you rush a miracle, you’ll get a rotten miracle.

            The lecture that will undoubtedly make the biggest splash will be Lord Carey’s.  He was fourth in the line up, connected, and hit one out of the park.  You all should look forward to reading his lecture on the Anglican Communion Institute’s website.  Essentially, he demonstrated that the Communion is not a new invention, but a century-long work of the Holy Spirit.  He argued so clearly that the heart of the problem is authority—and if we do not use what authority we have as the case has been—the result will be separation and fragmentation, which aren’t gospel values!

            The big take away for me is a reminder of the richness of this tradition, why it’s worth defending.  That was expressed most completely in worship.  In short: no liturgical shenanigans.  No changing pro-nouns.  No monkey business.  Just, let your guard down, give yourself over to the grace of decent order. 

The richness of the Anglican tradition also came through in the appreciation of formation.  It should come as no surprise that a group of teachers should tell us how important school is.  But, it is.  Sadly, we know too well how hard it is to get a decent argument out of a liberal.  Shoot, the emphasis on empathy is so pervasive, the idea that love equals acceptance of everything but decency and order, that scripture, tradition, and common sense are all emptied of their authority.  All we can argue about is how strongly we feel things, or perhaps who is more victimized.  I'm so bored with the "I'm more of a victim than thou" thing--and the willingness of so many to fall on the sword of self-loathing and guilt.   

            Was that a rant?  Probably.  Anyway, the point was driven home again and again: for the tradition to work authoritatively in people’s lives, people have know and practice the tradition.  So, I shall go home to my parish, renewed in my commitment to stand firm, to commend the faith once delivered, and to hand on what was handed to me, the gift of salvation in Jesus Christ our Lord. 

 

Easter Day: Dignity Restored

John 20:1-18

April 12, 2009

 

            The late theologian and pastor, Richard John Neuhaus often said, “In the Christian tradition, being true to yourself means being true to the self you are called to be.”  When Mary Magdalene met Jesus of Nazareth, she had very little of her self.  St. Luke (8:2) tells us that Jesus had cast seven demons out of her.  The scripture’s don’t tell us that she was the prostitute who anointed and washed Jesus’ feet in the home of a prominent Pharisee (what a scandal!), but the very first time Mary Magdalene is mentioned is in the story right after that one (Luke 7:36-50).  She and that woman have been treated as the same person in sermons and commentaries and in the movies—maybe they were. 

            We do know that, demon’s possess people.  They take whatever is good, clean, beautiful, interesting, fun, and they twist and steal it.  Suffice it to say, as someone in the grip of seven demons, Mary’s self was being feasted upon by evil.  Such people are never welcome in decent families or communities, because they wreck whatever they touch.  Any healthy organism has to organize itself against pathogens or it will die.  You have to have a self in order to be a part of a family, a marriage, or a community.  As such, the dignity we all have as people created in the image and likeness of God, would be hard to find, hard to recognize in Mary. 

            That was the case with Mary Magdalene—till she met Jesus!  The gospels don’t give any of the gory details on what happened—just that seven demons went out from her because of Jesus, and after that, Mary became part of a group of women who sometimes traveled with Jesus and the disciples, and provided for them out of their means.  (Luke 8:1-3)  She became part of Jesus’ holy family, and was able to contribute something good, something meaningful.  That sounds like a life with dignity. 

            We hear of Magdalene one more time before her encounter with Jesus in the garden.  (John 19:23-27)  She stands by the cross of Jesus, along with his mother, his mother’s sister, the wife of Clopas, and one male disciple, the one Jesus loved.  Perhaps the women were braver than the men.  Nevertheless, women are often overlooked in places like that.  Soldiers look right them—what can they do after all—they’re just women.

            Then, this woman whose very self was possessed, had the stuff, the self-possession to go in the dark to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus.  She has the dignity in herself to pay the appropriate respect to the dead.

Then, Jesus did something that is still affecting how women, and thus how all people, are regarded.  He appeared to her first.  He told her to go and announce his resurrection to the disciples, to announce the New Creation.  In that time, the testimony of women was not admissible in court.  Women were not considered fully human—not the way men are.  They were just women.  Jesus made her the one sent to the ones he sent—that is to say, the apostle to the apostles for that is what an apostle is, one who is sent! 

That’s what Jesus does with people.  Who he chose to carry the message is a living, breathing example of the message itself.  Jesus sets people free from evil; but more, he sets people free to righteousness, he restores, he creates whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, whatever is excellent and worthy of praise.  Dignity.  Jesus’ disciples are free to love, to be truly connected to others.  Jesus’ disciples are able to do great things.  With him, in him, through him, we receive the power to be our true selves, the selves we, each and every one of us, are called to be.  Amen.  

Good Friday: Truth and Human Dignity

April 10, 2009

Let us think together on this Good Friday about human dignity.  You know the phrase well from the Baptismal Covenant.  “Will you respect the dignity of every human being?”  “I will with God’s help.”  This is a continuation of what we began on Palm Sunday where we saw that sin is like a spiritual virus that can go epidemic, destroying human dignity.  We saw that Jesus can only reverse the epidemic—the one in the virus of sin cannot get a hold.  This is also a continuation of our thinking last night at Maundy Thursday, in which we saw that the ability to love and respect others is grounded in the dignity conferred upon us as wonderfully made in God’s image, and more wonderfully redeemed in Christ Jesus.

On this Good Friday, I especially want to hone in the connection between truth and human dignity.  While interrogating Jesus, Pilate asked him if he was a king.  Jesus said, “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  And Pilate replied, “What is truth?”  It seems to me that Pilate’s agnosticism about truth is his permit to desecrate the dignity of Jesus.  I imagine him smirking, in a kind of world-weary, seen it all, self-congratulatory boredom.  “What is truth?”  

Pilate may just be a man of our times!  In our times truth has no transcendent source.  Truth is feeling something about yourself very strongly, so strongly that your emotion should be protected by law.  Without a firm conviction that God is the source of human dignity, our discussions devolve into proceduralism, utilitarianism, and emotivism. 

What do I mean?  Right now, the United States is country in which we cannot legally tell the difference free speech and pornography. (Stanley Fish: The Trouble with Principle)  Why—because we’re loosing the God-given source of dignity, which says that, the body is sacred, holy, and good.  So, the law won’t get into truth—only, is the procedure established by the first amendment, a human law, being followed.  Thank God we still get that protecting children somehow transcends human law.  But as you know, that is being attacked at this very time.  There are people who feel very strongly that this is who they are, and who are you to judge someone else’s truth?  

The question is, is there something essential in human nature that calls us to respect life?  The rubber meets the road when we consider the value of the old, the infirm, the damaged, and the mentally ill.  Without a deep conviction that human dignity is a truth that transcends culture, will,  or utility, then human beings are nothing more than bipedal meat with opposable thumbs that can be used by whoever holds the reigns of power. 

Pilate knew what truth is.  He knew the law was more transcendent that mob’s bloodlust.  He knew that law transcended the sectarian jealousy of the priests.  He knew, there on the Gabbatha, the Judgment Seat, that he stood for more than Rome, but for truth.  But he pretended he didn’t know the truth, his agnosticism stinks of cowardice.  If he had acted upon the truth he knew, he would have paid a high price.  But, what’s more expensive—loosing you power and position, or loosing your soul?  Who lost his dignity at Gabbatha?  Jesus or Pilate?

So, you who believe in God the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, you who believe in Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, you who believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life, I ask you:  “Will you respect the dignity of every human being?”

“I will, with God’s help.”

 

Thanks are due for the basic idea of this sermon to Jean Bethke Elshtain, from, “While Europe Slept,” in First Things, March 2009, Number 191.  And of course to Alasdair MacIntyre for After Virtue.

 

 

Maundy Thursday: The Dignity of Love

April 9, 2009 

Let us think together this Maundy Thursday about human dignity. You know the phrase well from the Baptismal Covenant.  “Will you respect the dignity of every human being?”  “I will with God’s help.”  What is the source of human dignity?  What does it mean to have dignity?  What does it mean to respect the dignity of every human being? 

Back in the early 1990’s, the film Grand Canyon dealt with the idea of respecting human dignity in every scene.  The film opens with a white corporate lawyer type, courtside, at a Laker game.  The game ends and the man is driving home, in his BMW, through Watts.  His car breaks down, and he calls for a tow.  While waiting for the tow-truck, a group of young black men, gang-bangers, surround his car.  He’s terrified.  The tow-truck arrives, and out walks a powerful, middle-aged black man.  The gang-leader confronts him, while holding the gun grip of the gun in his pants.  And here’s the gist of their conversation.  “What you doin?”  “My job.”  “Don’t you respect me?”  “Sure, I respect you.”  “You respect me or the gun?”  “I don’t want to have this conversation.”  “That’s what I thought.  No gun, no conversation.  No gun, no, fear, no respect.”

That scene has stuck with me so clearly because it reveals human nature in search of lost dignity.  Obviously, a neighborhood riddled with crime, drugs, and every kind of brokenness under the sun is a place devoid of dignity.  Fear mongering and violence appears, in such situations, as a way to get respect.  But this interaction between the tow-truck driver and the gang-banger reveals that a gun isn’t the source of dignity. 

That’s such a stark example, which makes it powerful.  But let’s bring it closer to home.  This financial crisis we’re in—part of its source is a mistaken, misplaced, quest for dignity.  Let’s give everyone a chance at home-ownership—whether they can afford it or not.  Let’s offer interest only notes, 40 year notes, adjustable rate mortgages, and let’s build houses that dwarf those of a generation ago for families half-the size.  Isn’t this an attempt to get respect, to clothe oneself in dignity, through a house? 

What is the source of human dignity?  What does it mean to have dignity?  What does it mean to respect the dignity of every human being?  Jesus said, “Do you know what I have done to you?  You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am.  So if I your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.  For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” (John 13:14-16) 

Now, it’s not that being a foot-washer makes one magically aware of their dignity, or of the dignity of others.  I have no doubt that there have been many such servants who hated that demeaning job with a passion.  Foot washing isn’t magic.  Jesus’ dignity isn’t diminished by the task, but increases.  Why?  Because Jesus, “knew that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God.”  Most fundamentally, dignity comes from knowing that you are created in God’s image and likeness.  At the root, dignity comes from knowing that God so loved the world, so loved you that he gave his only begotten Son. 

One’s worth is not measured by how high—or low—you are on the food chain.  One’s worth is not based on having all your chromosomes (did you know that 90% of Down’s Syndrome fetuses in America are judged not worthy of breathing air, and are aborted because of the drain they will be on their parents and society?).  Every time God gets bracketed out of what it means to be human, where human dignity comes from, whether by the state or by utilitarian philosophy, life itself is cheapened.  Every time God is excluded from the discussion of what it means to be human, the circle of compassion and care, of human rights, shrinks to include fewer and fewer people. 

The source of our dignity as human beings, why we must respect ourselves, why we must respect our neighbors, is absolutely and totally based on being wonderfully and fearfully made, and even more wonderfully redeemed in Christ.  That frees a person to love others—with reckless, prodigal, abandon.  Respect isn’t a matter of asserting oneself, of clothing oneself with things that pass away, but of trust, of faith. 

“Will you respect the dignity of every human being?”  “I will with God’s help.”

Palm Sunday: The Epidemic of Sin

April 5, 2009

Let’s think together on this Palm Sunday about the epidemic of sin.  Given the right set of circumstances, do you think you could participate in a mob or a riot?  Given the right set of circumstances, do you think you could cry out for the death of an innocent man?  Or let me put it this way, do you think you are morally superior to the crowd calling for Jesus’ death?  Are you morally superior to the religious leaders or the soldiers or Pilate?  Was that judgment place, Gabbatha, especially full of psychopaths, or sadists, of people from bad homes with especially blood-thirsty genetics? 

For a very long time, Christians read the story of the passion, and blamed the Jews for killing Jesus.  “Christ-killers,” they called them.  It seems astounding since all the disciples, the ones who ran away, and the women who had the guts to show up at the crucifixion were all Jews.  It seems astounding since the soldiers and governor were all gentiles.  Nevertheless, it is very common, very easy, to assume there is something qualitatively different between oneself and the perpetrators of evil. 

Is there?  To my knowledge, none of us gathered here today have ever participated in a crime against humanity.  So, either we are qualitatively better than those people who crucified Jesus, or there must be another explanation.

*Remember that strange social science experiment at Stanford in the 1970’s.  You know, the one where 75 people volunteered to be in jail, as the jailed or the jailors for two weeks.  They put the volunteers through a battery of tests, looking for the most healthy, sane, ones.  Finally, with 21 people from good homes, no criminal records, no red flags, they opened their prison.  Inside of 24 hours, the jailors became sadists.  They shut down the experiment in six days because it got so sick. 

What happened?  Why did basically decent, sane, normal people go evil?  The environment itself was a hothouse for sin.  It was a context in which people’s darker impulses could take on a life of their own.  What happened there wasn’t so much an issue of choice; it was a perfect setting for an epidemic. 

Fortunately, we are not put in those situations very often.  But they do exist, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised, or horrified, to discover that some of you have been in situations that effected your good judgment, that some of you have done things that, to this day, make no sense to you—like you weren’t even the same person. 

That is the power of sin.  It’s like a virus.  Most of the time, it’s dormant, or not so bad that it really hurts or kills anybody.  But, given the right circumstances, bam: an epidemic. 

This is why, in baptism, we don’t just renounce whatever evil may happen to be inside of us (and it probably isn’t as bad as it must be in those other horrible people).  We renounce the world and the devil too—sin that is lurking, itching for a chance to become a plague of crime, perversion, addiction, suicide, or greed.

But in his innocence, in his freedom, a deeper, more mysterious power was at work in Jesus—the power to redeem, the power to atone, the power to have mercy, the power to forgive, the power to give lives back, the power to restore dignity to the jailors and the jailed, the power to disarm the virus that is always waiting for the right time and place to become an epidemic.  That power for life is there, freely given, to anyone who wants it, to anyone who will accept Jesus Christ as the antidote, as their savior.  That power for life is there, freely given to anyone who wants it, to anyone who will bow to the innocent, humble, healer, Jesus of Nazareth, king of the Jews!

 

*Special thanks to Malcolm Gladwell’s book The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference, for the insights on the Stanford experiment, and on how sin is like a virus, waiting to turn into an epidemic.