Divergent religious views:
GOD IS THE GREAT AUTHORITY
(God Alone)
Headship Theology
Many theologians have taught that the great goal of God is obedient subjects (1 Cor. 15:28). In this view, religion is a hierarchical system for transmitting divine authority. The higher up the pyramid, the greater your authority (i. e., your right and obligation to order the lives of others). The further down the pyramid, the greater your obligation to practice unquestioning obedience. When authority is the great value in a religious system, inevitably inferiors will be sucked into cooperation with evil directives issued by their superiors. (Think priests cooperating in the Inquisition, Christian Americans cooperating with their government in the internment of Japanese Americans or obeying the Fugitive Slave Act. Think of Adventist parents who have exiled their gay children because a minister told them it was obligatory to do so.)
In this view, in paradise every human is finally, immovably settled into placed in the pyramid (or annihilated).
GOD IS LOVE
(God with us)
Immanuel Theology
In this view, God's goal is virtuous partners (Rev. 3:21). Religion is a community created by God to nourish and savor goodness. Members of the community earn respect and honor by incarnating goodness. When goodness is the great value, everyone has standing to challenge any order that appears at variance with moral law. The core of goodness is love, not just "agape love" which is the principled regard for the well-being of others, but also "eros love" which includes affection and desire. God longs for communion with people. God enjoys sharing life and labor with people.
In God's ultimate dream humans are elevated. They are not on their faces before the throne. Rather God welcomes all the saints (men and women, people of every tribe and nation) to participate with him in the divine reign. (Rev. 22:5).
Adventism and classic Christianity have been dominated by excessive attention to God as The Authority and the church as a hierarchy. It is time for us to affirm GOD IS LOVE, and learn to live now in the light that comes from the shared throne.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Earning Respect
Sermon manuscript for Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists for Sabbath, July 18, 2015.
Texts: Psalm 113, Luke 14:7-14.
Late Tuesday
afternoon I was navigating the streets of Renton, moving very slowly
because of the traffic. I wasn't paying much attention to the radio
playing in the background. 94.9 was serving the usual buffet of bad
news: Greece. Iran. American political bickering. Yemen. Problems in
health care. Yada, yada, blah, blah, blah.
Then a name
penetrated the fog. Scott Jurak. Suddenly, the radio had my full
attention. Among long distance runners, Scott Jurak is legendary. He
won the Western States 100 mile race a record seven consecutive
times. The announcer was interviewing Scott Jurak about his recent
completion of the Appalachian Trail. Scott had just run 2,189 miles
from Georgia to Maine. It takes most people five or six months to
hike the full length of the Appalachian Trail. Scott Jurak did it in
47 days.
One of the nice
things about sports is that frequently arguments about greatness can
be settled directly. We can argue all day long about whether my team
or your team is the greatest. Then game day comes and someone wins.
If it is the womens
US Soccer Team, they won decisively! They are the greatest.
It's natural for us
to rank ourselves. We pay attention to who gets honored, who has the
highest status. This human attention to status and rank shows up in
the story we heard today in our New Testament reading.
When Jesus noticed that all who had come to the dinner were trying to
sit in the seats of honor near the head of the table, he gave them
this advice: "When you are invited to a wedding feast, don't sit
in the seat of honor. What if someone who is more distinguished than
you has also been invited? The host will come and say, 'Give this
person your seat.' Then you will be embarrassed, and you will have to
take whatever seat is left at the foot of the table! "Instead,
take the lowest place at the foot of the table. Then when your host
sees you, he will come and say, 'Friend, we have a better place for
you!' Then you will be honored in front of all the other guests. Luke
14:7-10 NLT. (Accessed through Blue Letter Bible.com)
At first glance this
is simply common sense advice. Don't set yourself up for
embarrassment. But as you would expect, Jesus was doing more than
giving mere common sense etiquette advice. He highlighted one of the
most profound principles of the kingdom of heaven: status is earned,
not demanded. In the kingdom of heaven there is no ring to kiss,
there is no insignia which requires a salute, there is no title which
confers absolute authority.
In this teaching,
Jesus echoes passages in the Old Testament which portray even the
authority of God as contingent on congruence with moral law. God is
to be praised BECAUSE he acts righteously. And the supreme
demonstration of righteousness is concern for the poor and oppressed.
As we read in our
Old Testament scripture (Psalm 113) God lifts the poor from the dung
hill. He gives women who have been regarded as cursed by God, the
highest honor in their society. We praise God because God does these
kinds of things.
In the kingdom of
heaven, greatness—high rank, high honor—is the fruit of righteous
action. And the most exalted righteous action is lifting others.
11 For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who
humble themselves will be exalted." 12 Then he turned to his
host. "When you put on a luncheon or a banquet," he said,
"don't invite your friends, brothers, relatives, and rich
neighbors. For they will invite you back, and that will be your only
reward. 13 Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the
blind. 14 Then at the resurrection of the righteous, God will reward
you for inviting those who could not repay you."
Sometimes in
religion, theologians have pictured God as primarily concerned with
authority. In this approach to religion, the highest virtue is
subservience to God. The highest religious practice is making signs
of obeisance to God—bowing, crawling on one's knees, kissing the
ring of a clergy person, obeying without question every demand
uttered by a preacher.
This view of God has
been most dramatically and grotesquely displayed in our day by the
Taliban and ISIS. However, even within Christianity, there are
movements that attempt to portray the religion of Jesus as a
structure of authority. In our own church, people like Doug Bachelor
and Steve Bohr have turned Christianity upside down. They have
pictured God as a benevolent tyrant demanding unquestioning
subservience. They have preached that the religion of Jesus is a
power structure that requires a show of obeisance from lay people
generally and women specifically. They picture Jesus as an ally of
their self-importance. They are wrong.
We are called to
something better. We are called to the vision Jesus voiced: to
welcome among us those who cannot repay our welcome. To lift those
who have no resources.
There is a ranking
in the kingdom of heaven. There is greatness and honor among us. The
highest rank belongs to those who serve. Especially to those who
serve by raising others. When we do that, we have indeed become like
God.
At school you will
find yourself naturally, easily drawn into circles of students who
share your academic focus, your political views, cultural background
and economic status. There is nothing wrong with these natural
affinities. Still, Jesus calls us to deliberately look beyond them.
Let us be deliberate in seeking to include in our circle of privilege
others who cannot be there without our welcome.
At the level of
society, we are all challenged by this vision of Jesus. We live in
the most privileged country in history. We who call ourselves
Christian are invited by our Master to ask: how can we include others
in our circle of privilege?
The mark of
authentic Christianity is how far we reach, how richly we welcome
those with no natural claim on us. The evidence that we have taken
note of the goodness of Jesus is our own generosity, our own welcome,
our own kindness to the least, the lowliest, the farthest from any
natural claim on privileges like ours.
If Scott Jurak walks
into a room of runners, people will naturally gravitate toward him.
They naturally admire someone who embodies our highest ambitions.
Aspiring runners will hope that association with Jurak will somehow
rub off on them and improve their own performance.
If the Womens Soccer
team visited us today, we would rightly honor their achievement. They
are champions.
When we mimic the
work of Jesus, when we lift the lowly, we, too, will rightly be
called champions. God himself will invite us to place of honor at the
heavenly table. And there will be great joy.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Jubilee
Sermon manuscript
for Green Lake Church
Sabbath, July 11,
2015
Texts:
Leviticus 25:8-17
Luke 13:10-17
Last week was 4th
of July, our national day. We celebrated our freedom. Liberty.
Freedom. Independence. These are important words for us as a people.
We like to think of ourselves as the people in the world who are most
free. We celebrate our freedom of religion, freedom of speech,
freedom of the press.
On the other hand,
we are also a violent people. We have often imagined that freedom
meant holding the gun instead of having the gun pointed at us. We
have been infatuated with a vision of cowboy justice in which the
wrongdoer is summarily executed. Our love of vengeance and punishment
has led us as a nation to incarcerate more people than any other
nation on earth. The United States has more people in prison than
either China or Russia—nations we have rightly criticized for their
human rights record.
This contrast
between our love of “my freedom” and our willingness to take away
“their freedom” stands in stark contrast to the vision of freedom
articulated by the ancient prophets and modeled by Jesus.
Let's consider two
pictures of freedom in the Bible.
The Book of
Leviticus in the Bible is a potpourri of all kinds of ancient rules
and procedures. It is a bit notorious for its mix of strangeness and
wisdom. For the modern person, reading through this book can be a
difficult exercise. Then you come to the end of the book. And there
you come across the passage we read for our Old Testament scripture
this morning: the Sabbath rules.
It is an astonishing
vision of a perpetual renewal of freedom.
Jewish life was
ordered in cycles of Sabbaths.
Every week, the
seventh day was a park in time, a social/spiritual space protected
from the demands of ordinary life. Every Sabbath people were set free
from the tyranny of employers, even the tyranny of existence. For one
day, the people were to quit working, quit striving, quit chasing an
adequate retirement, quit chasing an advancement, quit chasing
wealth. Every week, for one day, every person was to live perfectly
free. On Sabbath there were no slaves, no employees. Astonishingly,
there were not even any beasts of burden. There were no bosses, no
employers, no kings, no tyrants. Every week the nation luxuriated in
this experience of freedom.
Every seventh year
came a sabbatical year. Israel was an agrarian society. Everything
was based on agriculture. Against this background, the entire
community was commanded to interrupt the cycles of planting,
cultivating and harvesting. For a year, the fields were to be allowed
to go fallow. It was an agrarian sabbatical.
Then there was the
super Sabbath, the Jubilee. At the end of the seventh cycle of seven
years there was a grand Jubilee. In this year the land was
redistributed. Since land was the basis for wealth, this was a grand
wealth redistribution project.
The Books of Moses
tell of the distribution of the land after the conquest of Palestine.
It was like the Homesteader Act in the United States offering free
land to anyone who would go and work it. The entire nation started
off with an a golden opportunity. Land was the source of wealth and
everyone one was given property.
In the natural
course of life, if you give everyone equal opportunity, some are
going to thrive and prosper. Some are going to struggle. Over time,
the natural trend is for the sources of wealth to become concentrated
in fewer and fewer hands. This is not an evil process. It is the
fruit of hard work, luck, and family culture. The people at the
bottom have less and less. The same amount of effort on their part
will produce less and less economic benefit. While for those at the
top, the same amount of effort will produce greater and greater
wealth.
When one becomes
wealthy enough, passive income will completely supply one's needs.
You don't have to work, unless you want to. Nice!!!
This disparity in
wealth ends up creating a profound disparity in freedom. Those at the
bottom are free to work. And work and work some more. Or starve. They
have no margin. A single bit of bad luck will throw them into the
tender clutches of payday loan providers and ruthless creditors.
While those at the top are increasingly free to spend their time
studying philosophy and music, climbing mountains and pursuing
education.
Then comes the
Jubilee. The poor are made free again. They or their children or
grandchildren are given another shot at acquiring wealth through hard
work. The playing field is somewhat leveled. Hope comes alive again.
In the practice of
Jubilee, the entire society participates in creating Sabbath freedom.
The entire community is transformed and renewed. Freedom touches
every person, every family, every household.
This vision of
glorious freedom, this vision of a society in which freedom for the
lowly is renewed over and over—this vision was picked up by the
prophets and used as a metaphor for Grand Goal of all history. This
persistent renewal of freedom provided a concrete example of the
overarching purpose of God.
People struggling at
the bottom, people born in poor families, people born without
connections, without a family history of hard work, people born
without keen intellects or without healthy bodies were promised a new
birth of freedom. There would be a better world where their efforts
or their children's efforts would produce good success. A world where
they, too, could make music and voice ideas and ideals and hopes.
This was the pattern
of history mapped out by the Sabbath cycles of Israel. This was the
pattern of life God dreamed of for his people.
Let's leap forward
hundreds of years. Let's go from the primitive world of Leviticus, a
time when the people of Israel were nomads living in tents or an
agrarian people scattered in tiny hamlets in a wild and dangerous
country. Let's come to the time of Jesus. The Jewish people were now
a civilization. They had a deep, rich theological and religious
heritage.
By the time of
Jesus, the notion of Jubilee had become deeply embedded in Jewish
theology (though it had disappeared from their civil society). The
weekly Sabbath so thoroughly permeated Jewish society it had become a
central definition of who they were as a people. They were Sabbath
keepers.
Which brings us to
our New Testament reading.
One Sabbath, Jesus
went to synagogue, as usual. And as usual, he preached. At some point
in the service, he noticed a woman with severe scoliosis. The way I
imagine it, she was bent over so far she walked with two sticks to
hold up her torso as she shuffled about the village.
If you watched her
for more than a few minutes, you would feel in your own gut the
compression, the pressure on your stomach and lungs. You would begin
to hurt.
Jesus was preaching,
saying beautiful and inspiring things. People loved it, like they
usually did. But he interrupted the sermon. He noticed this woman and
stopped talking. He invited her to the front of the synagogue. I
imagine she came with great timidity. She felt her deformity, her
ugliness. She was used to lurking at the edge of social events,
hiding in the shadows at weddings and funerals. She was weird. She
was cursed. Still, the preacher, the famous preacher, had summoned
her. So she planted her sticks and heaved herself to her feet and
shuffled forward.
There, in front of
the congregation, Jesus placed his hands on her and announced, “Lady,
you are released from your bondage. You are free.” Immediately, she
was healed. She straightened her back. She turned her head back and
forth. Then she turned her torso back and forth. Then she dropped her
sticks. She stepped in a circle to the right, then to the left.
The crowd gasped.
“Glory be!” the woman exclaimed. “Hallelujah!” She started
laughing, then covered her mouth in embarrassment. This was church,
after all.
She walked gingerly
back to her place in the synagogue, wondering every second if it was
real, if it would last.
The synagogue became
a bee hive of murmuring and whispering. Who had ever seen such a
thing?
The synagogue ruler
stood and demanded people come to order. This was church not a
clinic.
“Look,” he said.
“God gave us six days to do our work, six days to do the ordinary
stuff of life, to take care of ordinary business. Come on those days
for healing. Sabbath is for worship and for study. Let's keep Sabbath
special.”
Jesus spoke up.
“Come on. Don't be hypocritical. Every person here unties his ox or
donkey twice or three times every Sabbath and leads it to the
watering trough. Four times, if it's hot. If you would do that for a
donkey or a cow, surely it is right that I should untie this woman,
this daughter of God who has been bound by Satan these eighteen
years.”
All the people were
delighted, the Gospel says. And all dignitaries who were opposed to
Jesus adversaries were confounded.
God wants us to be
free. The point of religion is to be a mechanism for setting people
free. But sometimes it gets turned into an instrument of bondage.
Like many of the
older members in this congregation, I grew up in constant fear of
condemnation. I imagined God was constantly watching to see if I
screwed up, to see if I, at every moment, was putting out one hundred
percent effort in the pursuit of holiness. I lived in perpetual dread
of the judgment. Then I received a new vision of the compassion and
affection of God. I knew that God was pleased with me.
I was set free. The
inner change was so profound that all my friends noticed. My behavior
didn't change, but I changed.
People asked, “John
what happened to you?” They rejoiced with me.
But a few people
were like the synagogue ruler. They were terrified. They could see I
was no longer leashed and bound and they were afraid for me because I
as no longer afraid. I guess they feared that if I wasn't afraid, if
I was happy, I would race off into a wild and stupidly wicked life.
They, too, asked,
“John, what has happened to you?” But asked in worried tones.
I had been in
bondage for over eighteen years and now I was free.
Some of you have
experienced that kind of bondage. You have been told by parents or
teachers or preachers or siblings or someone else that you are
defective, unworthy, hopelessly broken. You are ugly, wicked, lazy,
stubborn, hopeless. Those words have defined your existence. They
have formed a cage. You have been trapped.
Jesus says to you
this Sabbath and every Sabbath: You are free. Those words of bondage
are false. They come from the enemy. God's word is you are free.
This story also
addresses directly the issue currently being debated in the Adventist
Church. This past Wednesday, the General Conference of Seventh-day
Adventists voted not to approve the ordination of women. Those who
opposed women's ordination are committed to keeping women “in their
place.” They imagine that exercising this kind of domination is
doing the work of God. They imagine that God's goal for his people is
subjugation and subordination. They join the synagogue synagogue
ruler in urging people to leave freedom for the secular world. Women
can be doctors and judges and presidents and professors, but inside
the church women must remain cloistered, subservient, second.
Religiously women must not be free.
They are wrong. They
are violating the spirit of Sabbath. They are contradicting the
message of the prophets and the mission of Jesus.
I stand with Jesus
in proclaiming freedom. I invite us as a congregation to stand with
Jesus.
We are a Sabbath
keeping church, a Sabbath keeping congregation. The essence of
Sabbath is the proclamation of freedom. On Sabbath, we are set free
from the ordinary human patterns of subordination. According to the
commandment, even the ranking of humans above animals is set aside.
On Sabbath, we may not even order our animals to work. They are free
to luxuriate in divinely-appointed freedom. How much more our
daughters and wives and mothers and aunts and lovers and friends.
As a Sabbath keeping
church, we are committed to the radical message of freedom. We oppose
systems of control and subordination. On Sabbath all of us together
savor the freedom which is ours as members of the family of God. And
on Sabbath we pledge ourselves to doing all we can to shape our world
in the direction of Jubilee—the world of perpetual liberation, the
dream of God.
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