Headline: Catholic Priest Admits, "I Love Jesus!"

Every once in a while, I hear a talk that is so good that the best I can do is simply get out of the way and let the presenters speak directly to you, the readers.

Such was the case between these two gentlemen and friends at the National Workshop on Christian Unity, held this past April, 2016, in Louisville, KY. They shared reflections on how working for Christian unity (i.e. ecumenism) has changed them and has given them a new freedom. 

Small edits were made for sentence clarity, and the reflection at the end is mine.



L-R: Rev. John Armstrong and Rev. Don Rooney.
Photo credits: Rev. Mary Finklea.

Fr. Don Rooney is a Catholic priest and Pastor of St. Mary of the Immaculate Conception Roman Catholic Church in Fredericksburg, MD. He also just "retired" after six years as President of CADEIO, which is the Catholic Association of Diocesan Ecumenical and Interfaith Officers.

Rev. John H. Armstrong is an Evangelical minister, and has been a pastor, author and Wheaton College professor. He also is founder of the Act3 Network, which strives to promote missional-ecumenism.

Without further adieu . . . 

Fr. Don Rooney
(at the National Workshop on Christian Unity 2016, with snippets added from his talk in 2015)

I want to give a witness, because my relationship with Evangelicals has completely changed my particular ministry as a Catholic pastor. It was something very simple that happened the first time I went to an ecumenical conference. Someone sat across from me at one of our meetings and asked me point blank, "Do you mean to tell me, as a Catholic priest, that you love Jesus?"

I remember my face just went red. I felt ashamed. Where have I failed that somebody wouldn’t know that?

I finally collected myself and said, "Yes, I do love Jesus. Absolutely. That's why I am a priest--it is not for the pay!" [Laughter ensues from the crowd.]

So that weekend, I went back to my home parish. There are 3-4 times a year where I preach at all the Masses. One of them is called the Parish Life weekend. We have 10 Masses every weekend, as we have a large congregation but a small building.

So to give this homily, I decided I was going to take advantage of this experience. I got up, and I said, "In case you have never heard me say this, I want to start off by saying, 'I love Jesus,' and I’m sorry that I’ve never said that to you out loud."

People don't know that, because we [as priests] never say it. I learned that by being together [with other Christians]. I learned how to say that in public. Isn't that strange? We are just not formed like that.

I think we have so much to learn. The Catholic Church writes that we have not just the possibility but obligation to discover the seeds of truth in all peoples, especially other Christians. When we find that truth, it is refreshing and it is restoring, and it causes us to become better people. I am a better priest because I was a participant in this ecumenical process. I probably didn't think I would ever say that, but here am I saying it in public.

It just doesn’t sound Catholic to say "I love Jesus" out loud, right? And that’s where being part of this ecumenical ministry has changed me.   

Now, it has given me so much freedom.

Rev. John H. Armstrong:

I’d like to commend what my friend has just said, by affirming something. That is, if you want to know—Catholics or anyone else—the easiest way to get to the heart of an Evangelical, don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about nonsense, just state one thing: That you love Jesus.

And you’ll find that we may be really messed up folks, but when I meet someone who says they love Jesus, and when they say it with the same humility and truth that we just heard, then I start weeping on the inside, saying, "That’s it!" That’s what we ought to be founded on: Loving Him. From there can do so much that we have never even imagined. 

I think that’s the moment that we are discovering in these ecumenical talks. We can do theology, but it’s not just a theological dialogue—we can respect unity in diversity and those kinds of things you hear in the ecumenical dialogue. But do we love Jesus? Can we pray together? Can we talk together? Can we share meals together? Can we walk together?

And of course we pray, Amen.

Reflection

It sounds like a headline right from The Onion to read: Catholic Priest says, "I Love Jesus!" It is both tragic and sad that such a statement could be considered worthy of a news headline.

This discussion illustrates how much Christians have lost because of our denominational divisions--we may not realize it, but we have all given up parts of our own inheritance in order to draw a hard line between "those other folks." We end up thinking things such as:

Reading the Bible is a Protestant thing to do;
Being liturgical is a Catholic thing to do.

Having a personal relationship with Jesus is an Evangelical thing to do; 
Valuing the historical tradition is a Catholic thing to do. 

And so on and so forth.

Yet, those activities belong to all of us. There is nothing in the Catholic Church which is not steeped in the Biblical tradition. It was unthinkable for early Church Fathers and Mothers not to pour over Scripture in their personal reflections. 

In the same way, some Protestants and most Evangelicals may be looser about utilizing liturgy, but even celebrating Christmas and Easter acknowledges a value for the whole community to gather together at a single moment to commemorate a specific part of the faith.

Those are just two examples, but they illustrate a point.

We are so silly that we end up giving up what is rightfully ours just to maintain our divisions. It boils down to cutting our nose to spite our face. Divisions among Christians are ultimately self-defeating: It is very unlikely--if not completely impossible- to put up a wall between another group without also putting up a wall inside of yourself.

We become so invested in these divisions, hatreds and misconceptions, that we would rather blow up our own inheritance than acknowledge the legitimacy of someone else. Even people who do not maintain any conscious hostility to other denominations can end up living a more limited expression of their faith along these lines, as Fr. Rooney's example shows.

It should not feel like a person is giving up his Catholic identity to say, "I love Jesus," yet that is what happens when we invest more in our divisions than in our unity.

We are raised to believe that Catholics do "Catholic" things and Protestants do "Protestant" things. We forgot that those other things are often a part of our tradition, too. A Catholic could end up thinking that by reading the Bible he is watering down his Catholic identity. An Evangelical could think she is watering down her Evangelical identity by seeing her faith experience through the lens of Church history.

The ecumenical movement teaches us over and over again that a Catholic often feels more Catholic and a Protestant feels more Protestant when they reach out across denominational lines.

Ecumenism reminds us that the journey out is ultimately a journey in. In reaching out to others in charity, we end up healing a part of ourselves. By opening ourselves up to others, we learn that they hold long lost gifts of our own to give back to us.

It is like visiting an aunt that has been estranged from the rest of family for 50 years. You reach out to build a bridge and attempt to heal an old wound. When you go to her house for the first time, she shows you a shoebox of old photos and letters about you that reveal missing pieces of your past that you never knew.

I am reminded of Abraham trusting God so much he was willing to sacrifice his only son (Genesis 22). Abraham discovered that through trust in God he ended up not having to lose anything at all but in fact gained a lot.

Likewise, when divisions run deep, it can feel like sacrificing your own flesh and blood for a Catholic to reach out to a Protestant, or visa versa. It can feel like you are giving up everything you hold dear. When you base your identify on being opposed to another group or person, then there is some truth in that. Yet, just like Abraham discovered, trusting God did not bring the gloom and doom he imagined. In fact, God just opened up the Promised Land and a perpetual future of abundance for Abraham and his descendants.

The Abraham story is complex, because I wouldn't want to suggest that Christian discipleship doesn't come with its share of sacrifice. But the story does illustrate the importance of trusting God, because what we perceive as an inevitable outcome of misery often does not turn out that way at all when we trust in God. We simply can't see it yet with our limited human vision, which is why faith is so important to help us over that hump.

All enemies hold a key to ourselves in this way, whether they be religious, political or social rivals. This is why when you love your enemy, you heal yourself and find your fullness.

The example of Fr. Rooney shows how entering into the process of ecumenical reconciliation between denominations can help us all reclaim the pieces of the Christian experience that we have either lost or have become afraid to embrace because some other group has embraced them so strongly. Saying "I love Jesus" is not a Protestant thing to do--it is something all Christians can and should claim as our birthright!

It is a surprising paradox--in an attempt to reach out to another group, we end up reclaiming a lost part of ourselves. This is why ecumenism is not some nicey-nice icing on the cake, but it is central to the Christian mission.

The Body of Christ is One. Attempting to cut off a member of that body has the same impact as cutting off a limb from your own body. In the midst of our anger and defensiveness, we can lose sight of that. But we all lose on a personal, visceral level, whether we are consciously aware of it or not, when the Body is divided.

When Disunity is a Strength

Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, II, leader of NC's Moral Monday movement,
energizing the assembly during his opening address. Photo: www.advocacydays.org

 

Christian unity is not just a thing—it is an event. There is probably no other group that witnesses to this better than the Ecumenical Advocacy Days. Every year, on a weekend in April, Christians sponsored by over 50 faith-based religious societies, denominations and nonprofits, gather together at a hotel in Arlington, VA, to put their faith into action with a common witness.

These people of faith spend the weekend training their minds and opening their hearts for a task. They engage in fellowship, learn about social justice issues, worship together and hear testimonies of the cry of the poor. They develop skills in advocacy and lobbying. This culminates on Monday with the group marching through the halls of Congress, lobbying as a unified faith community on behalf of the poor, the vulnerable and the earth.

This year's topics in brief:

Supporting the Voting Rights Advancement Act [VRA] of 2015.

Throughout U.S. history voting laws have been used to concentrate power by intentionally stripping certain citizens from their most prized and powerful right: the power of the vote. The bi-partisan Voting Rights Act of 1965 was a great step toward eliminating legal barriers to the voting booth. Still after its passage several states continued to deny people the right to vote under the disingenuous guise of reducing voter fraud.

Defeating the Trans-Pacific Partnership [TPP] trade agreement that deepens inequality and prioritizes corporate interests over both God’s creation and people, especially vulnerable communities in the U.S. and abroad. The TPP is a trade agreement between the U.S. and 11 Pacific Rim nations, which will establish trade rules between these countries. It serves primarily the special interests of the privileged.

Pope Francis has called on nations to say no to ‘an economy of exclusion.’ All global economic policies, including trade agreements, should be evaluated on the basis of their impact on the common good of all, especially the marginalized, and the earth. The agreement has been negotiated in secret, largely by corporate lobbyists, and would legitimize unfair labor practices, destructive environmental activities and serious human rights violations. The TPP is harmful to people and to our planet. It threatens health, jobs, food security, and the environment in all TPP countries.

These topics seemed odd to me, at first. Don't get me wrong, I fully support them and urge others to find out more about them (I recommend starting here). What caught me by surprise, though, is that I didn't notice any obvious continuity between them. EAD is usually focused—there are so many problems in the world on any given day, but we resign ourselves to the knowledge that we can't be all things to all people. In light of this, the best strategy is often to pick a single topic and put all our energy into it. This year, we had two topics.

Yes, they are both timely, and yes, they are both important. But voting rights in the USA seems like an odd partner for a bill about international business trade. When we only have a short amount of time to make our points with the legislators office, it seems strange to have such a divided agenda.

Then it hit me: They are both about exclusion. We are about inclusion. Denying people the right to vote excludes them from their right to participation. The TPP, negotiated in secret, carves up the world's resources and leaves the vast majority of people out of it, especially those already poor. It makes perfect sense why the unified Body of Christ would cry out in pain over these issues so strongly.

As an ecumenical assembly, we hope for the Kingdom that will come when Christ reconciles all back to himself. We all pray as sisters and brothers to the same Father. Unity, wholeness, inclusion—these make sense in light of the Revelation of Christ incarnate into humanity, with all of us being part of that Body.

***

Ecumenical Advocacy Days is a powerful witness. Common stereotypes we are fed in the media and elsewhere in society will say that people from different religious denominations simply can't get along. Our experiences tell another story. As it turns out, the fact that we are different makes our witness so much stronger. Let me explain.

Christ inbreaking into history was like the big bang—an explosion that propelled particles far and wide in all directions. Catholics went down certain noble paths. Protestants followed other fine paths. Evangelicals found still more excellent ways to go. Yes, we all have moved in different directions. The Spirit has called us in different ways at different times. Perhaps we even took some wrong turns along the way. 

We believe different things. We worship differently. We sing differently. We consult different experts and even, in some cases, different holy books.

But still, we remained faithful and kept listening to the Spirit throughout history: We prayed. We wrestled with the demands of faith. We are always working it out in fear and trembling. And you know what?

We all ended up at the same place: Ecumenical Advocacy Days.

This is the miracle of Christian unity. This is the message we took to Washington, D.C.

You could say there is chaos in disunity. You could say the lack of Christian unity is one of the most glaring faults of Christianity. Some even use that fact to discount Christianity. But we are people of the Resurrection—we trust that God can transform even the most hideous tragedy into a victory. 

When people from different places, different churches and different walks of life and are all led to make the same pronouncements on matters of peace and justice, that is not chaos. No, there is another way to understand that: This, my dear friends, is a Holy Spirit moment. Our diversity then showcases our strength, because it is exactly because we are different that makes it so much more compelling when we do come together in unity.

It reminds me of the Rascal Flatts song: God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.
 
We went down different paths and still arrived at the same place. This is robust, fully free diversity in reconciled unity. We are not united because we have fused together into some monolithic entity. Rather, we are united because we are going in the same direction, sometimes taking different means and methods to get there, but we can still be companions for each other along the way.

If you feel moved to talk to your legislators about these issues, consult the instructions on the link above.  Call, email, Tweet or stop by and visit your legislators to talk to them about it! Or better yet: Find others who are already doing this work and join your efforts to theirs!

Goodbye, Just War Theory—We Never Really Knew You

"Prophets of Nonviolence - King, Day and Gandhi"
by Sr. Catherine Martin, O. Carm. Used with permission. 
http://sistersofmountcarmel.org/catherineart/catherine.index.htm

 

The Vatican is holding its first ever conference to evaluate its long-held doctrine on just war theory. Articles are here and here. First described by St. Augustine in the 5th century, just war theory has long been controversial. It describes circumstances whereby the Church can morally sanction some violence and war. While its focus in recent years is primarily on self-defense, many have treated it as a blanket endorsement for political states to make decisions at whim about going to war.

I applaud efforts to take a deeper look at whether some forms of violence, up to and including war, can be justifiable from the standpoint of the Revelation of Christ. You will not find me shedding any tears if we find a more positive, peace affirming framework.

That being said, I can't help but wonder if we would not be—pardon the expression—jumping the gun if we were to abandon just war theory.

It feels like breaking up with a girlfriend before we have ever really gotten to know her in the first place.

***

When I read closely the conditions whereby violence could be allowable under just war theory, I actually find a very pro-peace doctrine. You simply cannot meet the conditions otherwise. It takes a little bit of prayerful meditation to see this, but it does not require any theological slight-of-hand tricks. It is simply a matter of taking the conditions seriously and asking what must be done in order to meet them. The demands it asks of us are not easy, but the logic itself is straightforward.

To meet these conditions, individuals and nations must be active and engaged in the cause of peace. According to just war theory, violence is only an option as a last resort to protect the common good (#2263). It is entirely subsumed under the moral framework of self-defense. In this regard, it is very similar to the theology of the death penalty.

I will not do an exhaustive text study here, but here is a sampling of lines straight out of the Catechism:

• All citizens and all governments are obliged to work for the avoidance of war (#2308).

• Peace is not merely the absence of war (#2304).

• Peace cannot be attained on earth without safeguarding the goods of persons, free communication among men, respect for the dignity of persons and peoples, and the assiduous practice of fraternity (#2304).

• Peace is the work of justice and the effect of charity (#2304).

• Injustice, excessive economic or social inequalities, envy, distrust, and pride raging among men and nations constantly threaten peace and cause wars. Everything done to overcome these disorders contributes to building up peace and avoiding war (#2317).

If violence is determined to be necessary to protect the common good, there are very stringent criteria to limit the scope and evaluate the aims of said violence (#2309).

All this is to avoid committing the mortal sin of murder, i.e. breaking the 5th commandment. Given the dignity of life and care for the land, the goal is to do the minimum violence necessary to protect the common good and nothing more.

The above offers a rich call-to-action for justice and peace. Perhaps it's not the most imaginative or daring pathway to peace, but in a ramshackle sort of way, it promises to get us there. However, the Church and churchgoers often treat it like decorative wallpaper.  It's as if those composing it were just waxing poetic about peace in the abstract.  It's as if it came with an unspoken, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, nobody is expecting us to actually take this seriously. The demands of peace as spelled out here get very little attention in Sunday homilies.

To the contrary, these are serious statements that demand concrete actions. In fact, to come anywhere close to meeting these conditions, society would have to undergo a near-total overhaul. It is not just about violence, but also poverty, human rights, respect for the land and a bubbling-over infrastructure of harmony among all. These statements reject passivity and instead call us to be active and proactive for the cause of peace.

If we are to tackle such endemic sins as pride, economic injustice and social inequality—and if "peace cannot be attained" without the litany of terms presented above—then this is no side task to schedule between brunch and golf on a Saturday afternoon. From the level of individuals to governments, we are all called to lifelong, continual efforts not just to avoid war and violence, but to create the conditions for peace.

Before violence can be a last resort, all other efforts must be tried thoroughly and repeatedly. That's simply what it means to be a "last resort"—by definition.

***

Yet, we have named a doctrine by its option-of-last-resort.

Let's say I'm hungry. I plan to eat after work. There is meatloaf in the fridge at home. If it is spoiled, there is also some leftover fish. If that is also no good, I could visit one of a dozen restaurants down the street. If I cannot find any money, if each of my credit cards is declined or if all the restaurants are closed by the time I get off work, I could, as a last resort, simply fast for the evening and make plans to eat tomorrow. Taken together, I would not call this my "evening fasting plan." No, this is my "evening eating plan." If all else were to fail, I may have no other choice but to fast—but make no mistake, my plan is to eat, and there is a plethora of options available to make that happen. Fasting is highly unlikely and hardly worth mentioning, but it could, theoretically, happen.

So by a similar token, why is our "peace plan" called the "war plan?" It's misleading at best and contradictory at worst. Putting that much attention on the option-of-last-resort does not express much faith in the primary goal, which is the attainment of peace.

It is not surprising that just war theory has been so poorly understood, because it is quite simply poorly named. It vaguely pairs the word "just" alongside "war." It is not helpful to be so ambiguous on a topic that is so grave.

It might make sense to a theologian to start with the exception and work backwards to discover that this doctrine, which outlines the conditions whereby war could potentially be justified, is really about peace. Like I said before, it does not take extensive theologizing to get there.

Unfortunately, however, what I have often witnessed is that people hear the term “just war” and do some mental gymnastics along the following lines, saying:

‘Just War’ means the Church has implicitly justified war itself, is opting out of any and all decision-making as to the morality of any specific war and leaves all considerations entirely to the discretion of the political state. The Church therefore promises to turn a blind eye and not intervene while the state does what it wishes.

That is absolutely absurd. While it may be the role of the state to ultimately make the decision to go to war or not, to think that the Church should not weigh in on matters of life and death and advise on the morality of a war is unthinkable. Yet, turning a blind eye is exactly what many demand of the Church in light of just war theory. It is unconscionable that the Church would simply abandon its prophetic voice, shrugging its proverbial shoulders, resigning itself to the notion that war is simply the "state's decision."

Just war does not mean that all war is justified and that the Church washes its hands of any critical feedback for the decisions of a political state to enter into a war. It simply means that the Church holds for a legitimate right to self defense that could include violence as a last resort.

The "just war" name sounds like a marketing trick right out of the Karl Rove playbook. It's reminiscent of "right to work" laws, which have virtually nothing to do with the lofty ideals of "work" and "rights." "Just war" comes across like a blank check for war, but if you read the fine print, there is hardly any conflict that could possibly meet its conditions. In the confusion, the Church is locked in an analysis paralysis, rendering itself ineffective at being a prophetic voice to the state. In my more cynical moments, I sometimes wonder whether this confusion was in the plan all along.

***

Imagine archeologists from the future figuring out how to fly a 20th century airplane having only discovered a small portion of the instruction manual for guidance—the section on how to parachute out of a failed flight. They could piece together what the plane was supposed to do by taking the emergency exit instructions and working backwards from there: If we parachute when X, Y and Z are failing, then we can deduce that X, Y and Z need to be operational, even though it is unclear from this portion of the manual how to make that happen.

This is the problem we run into by building a theology of peace out of just war theory. "Just war" is the failsafe when all else has fallen short. We need to be much more explicit about what we mean by "all else." Just war is not cut out to be our entire peace plan but rather just an addendum.

Differently said: I would drop out of flight school if the instruction manual were entitled "Just Parachuting." Likewise, it's hard to take the Church's mission of peace seriously when the textbook has the words "Just War" on the cover.

***

War and violence sound like terrible things the Church has no business getting involved in, but there is a fundamental moral question in play: Is violence ever an allowable option or does the Christian call require total nonviolence in all circumstances? Will some violence end up reducing the total amount of violence? Just war theory takes the sobering view that violence will be almost impossible to avoid in this broken world.

The difference between just war theory and total pacifism is slim. It is a scandal that this remains an untold story of Catholic theology. Both approaches requires a tireless pursuit of peace. The only difference is that one side will allow violence as an absolute last resort while the other will not. In either case, both sides should look virtually identical to the casual observer, as they would be spending the overwhelming majority of their attention on fostering peace.

I would like to think that the question of violence is something that people of goodwill can struggle with. I hope so, because I struggle with it myself. What draws me to consider total nonviolence is that many of the greatest spiritual leaders throughout history—in the tradition of Gandhi, Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, Jr., St. Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, or even, dare we say, Jesus of Nazareth—have opted for it. Also included are many in the Anabaptist and Catholic Worker movements who have personally shared with me jaw-dropping stories of their commitment to nonviolence. Still, I am not there, yet.

As food for further discussion, I am willing to consider that maybe the difference is not so slim—maybe there is a Grand Canyon-sized gap between total nonviolence and violence as a last resort. Maybe the latter, even by opening the door to violence just a little, misses the Way of Jesus by a long shot.  Perhaps that is why just war theory has not been able to be the vehicle for peace that it promises to be on paper. That is a discussion for another time, but it is worth at least suggesting it here.

***

We seem to focus almost all of our entire theological attention on whether or not violence can be justified in some situations and very little attention on the overwhelming Christian duty to create conditions where war and violence either cannot exist or are avoided when they do. This involves a serious change in culture, adoption of preventative measures and fostering the well-being of the people and land.

All too often, theological debate around just war theory centers around the tactical considerations when a nation is on the brink of war. There is far too little discussion about what it means to promote peace and avoid war in a long-term, proactive way. That’s the piece we almost completely ignore when we talk about just war theory. Just war is not something to bring out of the closet when an enemy army is marching on our gates, but rather its mandate for a lifestyle of peace is something to consider each day.

In order to take just war theory seriously, we must promote peace vigorously and support the economic initiatives, human rights and fraternal harmony necessary for the avoidance of war. Just because there is a slim allowance of some violence as a complete and total last resort does not mean that Church just throws up its hands and turns a blind eye to all state-sponsored decisions for violence. That is a logical fallacy that is all too often the narrative around just war theory.

***

Perhaps Pope Francis said it best:

A person who thinks only of building walls, wherever they may be—and not bridges—is not a Christian.

Yes, there may be a time for a wall. Perhaps we can find ourselves so backed into a corner that a literal or metaphorical wall is the only legitimate response to a given situation. Nevertheless, I will never be convinced of the need for a wall until substantial efforts have first been made to build a bridge.

Just substitute “waging wars/peace” for “building walls/bridges” and the same applies. Whether you are against all wars or whether you concede some allowance for them, make no mistake—the Christian life is one of fostering peace. The debate about limited violence vs. total nonviolence is important, but let's not allow that to obfuscate this more unifying point.

***

Keeping war and violence as last resort options is based on the assumption that nonviolent means of self defense will not be as effective as violent ones. Given the stunning success of movements for peace around the globe in the past century, it is worth asking whether we could ever exhaust the potential for nonviolent means of solving conflicts. Furthermore, given the immensely destructive capabilities of modern military systems, we should also consider whether the violence of modern war could ever be restrained enough to meet the stringent requirements of just war theory. In other words, a "just war" may be as mythical as a unicorn, a purely theoretical construct but not something we are ever going to see in real life.

***

The question may not be whether just war theory is wrong but whether it has ever been taken seriously in the first place. I am lead to a robust vision of the peaceable kingdom the deeper I delve into it. But given the way it has been used and misused to justify all sorts of violence, as well as it's extremely indirect—or downright misleading—name, perhaps it is long overdue for a rebranding.

So maybe breaking up with just war theory is a good idea. Perhaps she is not so bad after all, and it may be a shame we never saw her full potential, but let's face it: If we don't know her after 1,500 years, perhaps we never will.

 

Checklist for Love -- 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

 

A New Commandment

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. John 13:34 (NIV)

Many argue that the Gospel of John passage is Jesus specifically telling the disciples to love other Christian disciples. Elsewhere in Scripture, Jesus is clear that the extent of this love includes everyone--even enemies, outcasts, sinners and anyone not in our comfort zone.

Unfortunately, sometimes "other Christian disciples" and "enemies" are one and the same thing. In any case, the demands of love span from those closest to us to the most distant.

Checklist for Love

Now that we have the commandment to love one another, it begs the questions: How? What does it mean for Christians to love others? This certainly requires deep thought, meditation and practice. Perhaps it calls for trial & error. It is easy to dismiss "love" as merely sentimental, as a feeling rather than an action.

Paul gives us an idea of what love looks like in the famous passage in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. It is a popular reading for weddings, but its reach goes far beyond that.

I like to look at Paul's beautiful words as a checklist. It holds us accountable. "Love one another" is a powerful commandment--jaw-dropping, life-changing, paradigm-altering, heaven-and-earth-shaking, in fact. It is also open ended enough that we can find it all too easy to ignore. The word "love" is so big and the scope is so broad that we can end up doing nothing at all--it goes without saying that we will fall short, which often becomes license for inaction or downright contradiction.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8 helps stave that off. Paul keeps the magic of love while stripping it of its needless sentimentality. This where the rubber hits the road, as we shall see.

[The headers below are based on the NIV translation, with the NRSV mentioned from time to time.]

Love is patient

We can all say we feel love. It is easy to say we value love. We can all agree that love is difficult in our complex, sinful world. We can affirm these things, proverbially pat ourselves on the back and then let the discussion die on the vine right then and there. Paul does not allow that. He presses us--So, have you been patient with others?

This is a very different question about love. Do we acknowledge that others are on a path of growth, that they have limitations and blind spots, too? Patience allows space for grace to enter, instead of being drowned out by our impulsive triggers and autonomic reactions.

Love is kind

A mentor of mine would always say that it is better to describe love than to use the word love itself. Love itself is like the sun--the source of all light but almost impossible to look at directly. It is better to understand the sun by looking at the plants that grow from its rays, the rainbows that emit from a prism of raindrops and the colors visible to the eye through shades and shadow.

In other words: I cannot look at the sun, but I like how you look in the sun.

This resonates brilliantly here: Kindness. I absolutely adore this word. It connotes gentleness, compassion, warmth. It is our default stance to others when we approach them in love.

It does not envy

It is interesting that this should be in a list of qualities of love. You might think that envy and love go hand in hand. Can you not love someone so much that you also envy them? Paul suggests no. 

The Christian journey is instead one of gratefulness for the gifts God has given. We can appreciate the gifts that others have without clinging to them. Envy is often more of a sign that we are not loving ourselves than it has to do with the other person. Yes, there are many lovely things about you. Perhaps I can learn from you, but I will not confuse that with wanting to be you to the point where I confuse my own identity with you. To love others, we must first love ourselves. Envy opens the door to objectifying someone else. It begins in self-hate and ends in destroying others.

It does not boast

This is the flip side of envy. People who boast seek to augment themselves, usually at the expense of others. It comes before pride in the list, but it is pride in action, as we shall see below. Whether we envy someone else or boast about ourselves, both express a lack of love for ourselves and a break from the fundamental equality of all people before God.

It is not proud.

It was no accident that Medieval scholars and saints consistently saw pride as the deadliest of the deadly sins. It is a direct affront to God as we claim ourselves as the source of our merit rather than God, from whom all good things flow. Pride therefore makes it hard to express love properly to others, as we have attempted to obstruct the fundamental relationship of God to ourselves.

Pride comes across as an air of superiority. Underneath it all, it probably comes out of a sense of inferiority. Neither is acceptable. Love is a level playing field; it is the great equalizer. We are all children of the God, equal in God's eyes. Pride prevents us from seeing that. Pride creates hierarchy--it says that this person is better or less than this other person.

 

It does not dishonor others

There is a difference between disagreement and dishonoring. We can and should offer each other constructive feedback. The NRSV simply uses the word "rude." Talking abruptly and crudely is not what love looks like.

That being said, a fake politeness that masks a subtle disregard does not work very well either. It does not ultimately matter if someone is polite or not--is the other person being dishonored, slandered, mocked or disregarded by your speech and behaviors?

The Google dictionary definition of "dishonor" says it is a failure to observe an agreement or principle. I love this. The "agreement" is what Scripture tells us--that all humans are brothers and sisters to each other and children of the same God. To "dishonor" someone is to disregard this principle which has been revealed to us through the Christian faith.

It is not self-seeking

I like the NRSV translation: "It does not insist on its own way."

Love is like a dance--it would not be very artistic if one person dragged the other person around the dance floor, caveman style. Instead, they both work together to move in harmony with each other, so that neither is hurt and both can express their gifts.

You probably cannot "insist on your own way" without running the risk of "dishonoring the other person."

It is not easily angered

People often cite Jesus getting angry at the money changers in the Temple as a justification for getting angry. We must remember that Jesus is slow to anger. He does not get angry very often in the Gospel accounts.

We are always looking for little slippery slopes to bypass Jesus' commandment to love. One instance of Jesus getting angry does not give us an unlimited permission to be impulsive or regularly angry. I have heard people reason it through this way: Jesus got angry once, so therefore "anger" is a universally good thing whenever I decide to express it. The actions of Jesus suggest there may be a place for anger--as long as it is measured and very, very rare.

God is slow to anger--are we?

NRSV says love "is not irritable or resentful." Both of those works connote someone who is at the brink of anger, and others around them will feel like they are walking on eggshells.

 

It keeps no record of wrongs.

I admit this is a hard one for me. There has to be a place for healthy accountability. It does no one any good to be a regular punching bag for someone else. But do you define someone by your perceived problems with them or by their noteworthy characteristics? Some people walk around all day dragging that ole ball-and-chain--every pain they have ever experienced. We ought to remember things. We should not sweep problems under the rug. But once they are dealt with, they should be released to the white light of the Holy Spirit.

The NRSV is helpful here. The previous line ends with "resentful" and continues with "it does not rejoice in wrongdoing." That hones in on what I am describing. People can be truly hurt by others, but when they carry that badge of victimhood around so prominently you can sometimes wonder if they are not actually happy that they were injured--it gives them something to complain about. They almost celebrate the injury as a way to make others feel bad by holding onto that resentment and keeping score. Or they overemphasize it as a way to give them license to mistreat the other.

Sr. Helen Prejean--the Catholic sister who works against the death penalty--says it is important how we talk about our sin. She asks: Do you want your worst action to define you as a person? In other words: Is a criminal on death row a murderer who happens to be a person--or are they a person who happens to have murdered someone? It is about how we define ourselves and others. Keeping a record of wrongs can prevent us from truly entering into a relationship with the other person. We have written the sin up and written the person off. It allows us to avoid becoming vulnerable and entering into the mystery of the person before us and be open to what they have to offer.

Jesus was constantly making space and time for people that others had written off. As we shall see, love has the final say, not condemnation.

 

Love does not delight in evil

You can see that this is a dangerous path. What starts with "envy" quickly translates into "resentful," turns into "rejoice in wrongdoing," which ultimately leads into "delight in evil." Paul maps out this descent into the dark side very well in his litany of terms. People become so convinced of their rightness, and so entitled to their anger, that they cross a line into rejoicing in evil often without realizing it. 

It is never good when bad things happen. By definition.

But rejoices with the truth.

This is where things get dicey. Just when someone is about to let go of their preconceived notions, step out of their protected shell and engage with others in openness and vulnerability, this line shoots out like a canon blast and can justify holding on to our petty arguments and divisions.

This is a tricky passage. What do you do if another group holds a belief or has a practice that you do not agree with? Even worse, what if you consider it to be evil? Some people take this line to mean that the only way to hold true to their beliefs is to exclude people who do not fit into that.

Christians have often looked on this verse as a reason to break relationship. However, Jesus rarely did that. He disagreed with many folks but so often in Scripture you see him reaching out. He stays in relationship. He stays in dialogue. He continues to be compassionate, loving and gentle.

Pope Francis recently described a Christian as someone more interested in building bridges than walls. The pontiff nails it. There is a time and a place for walls, yes. But I am not convinced we ever need a wall until someone can demonstrate that they have first worked tirelessly to build bridges.  Until someone can show that building a wall is a last resort--and not the first, impulsive action--then I will stand unconvinced that a wall is either necessary or in line with the demands of love.

Before we snap back reflexively into our comfort zone of divisions and categories of who's right and who's wrong, I'd like to focus on the word "rejoice" here. Sometimes we think of the word "truth" as being the deposit of dogmas and doctrines that our church denomination holds. One of the most popular guiding expressions when it comes to the movement toward Christian unity is called a "sharing of gifts" St. Pope John Paul II used that expression frequently, and it has become a guiding mantra for ecumenism. Simply put, we ought to testify to how God has been working in our lives.  We can share that joy with others. 

To "rejoice in the truth" does not mean we use our beliefs as a justification for divisions and exclusions. Nowhere does it say or imply that. If you disagree, read it again and slowly. This is a celebration.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

As if there were any doubt.

As if this passage has not been abundantly clear.

Can you imagine protecting your enemies?  You should, because this is what love looks like.

Trust is also a hard one. Trust in what, exactly? I hear Paul asking us to give the benefit of the doubt. Can we trust that there is something of the goodness of God in everyone, even our enemies?

Can you never give up hope that goodness will always prevail, no matter how deep the wound or how vast the division? 

All of this culminates in this astonishing capstone:

Love never fails.

Just in case you were looking for an out. Just in case all of the above demands and descriptions of love were still not enough. Just in case you still found a way to escape back into your protective bubble and hurdle proverbial grenades at your opponents, Paul comes out and says it outright: Love hangs in there. Love has the final say. In short, love works and love wins. 

After all, everything besides loves is just a bunch of senseless noise (1 Cor 13:1-3).

Will you hang in there, too?

Love is one of the hardest things to do. We look for any way that we can wiggle out of the demands of love and continue in our ways of divisions. One by one, Paul engages all the reasons we give ourselves to opt out of the path of love.

We all think love is a great idea. But do we think patience is a good idea? How about kindness? . . .and so on down the checklist.

Linus sums up what this post is about so well!



Hospitality in the Churches of East Tennessee

The simple act of visiting a church of another denomination can be a wonderful thing to do. The Glenmary Home Missioners, the group I work with, has a long tradition of doing this very thing. As missionaries, they approach church worship services themselves as a mission field--not a place to convert others, but a place to reach out to one another, be open to what the other is saying, and build the kind of unity that Jesus himself prayed for. That all who believe may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you (John 17:21).  

Anyone can be an ambassador of the faith in this way. My colleagues usually recommend going to another church on the invitation of a member or the pastor. It is usually easy to get an invitation in a conversation around town, perhaps at the grocery store or restaurant. An invitation is not always necessary, but it helps to break the ice.

When I go, all I say is, "I'm Frank Lesko, I'm visiting my friends at the local Catholic Church for the weekend, and I would like to worship here this morning." It is that simple. You do not need a theology degree to be kind and open in this way. Folks are often extremely warm and quite pleased that someone from outside their congregation would take the time and effort to spend a Sunday morning in their space and hear what they have to say. Their hospitality is a gift that I do not take for granted--I appreciate it greatly as itself an act of Christian love.

Sometimes the journey toward greater harmony between churches only takes someone proverbially knocking on the door and asking to come in and sit for a spell. Your actions will speak much louder than words, and say, "I want to be in your world for a while. Let's listen to each other."

I visit churches regularly in my work. It only makes sense to share more of these adventures in more detail online!  So here goes . . .

Union and Grainger Counties are circled in red above.

I spent this weekend in and near the Catholic mission parishes in Union and Grainger Counties in east Tennessee. Visiting other churches is easy here, as there are few churches in Union and Grainger counties in which Br. Craig Digmann has not visited at least once. He is a regular face at many places. His current total is well over a hundred churches that he has visited at least once in his few short years in the area, and that number is steadily growing.

On Saturday evening, I attended Catholic Mass at St. John Paul II Catholic Mission parish in Rutledge, TN. I have featured this congregation in posts before, most recently here. What is noteworthy about this little storefront church is that right now it has been almost entirely converted into a distribution area for food commodities for folks in need. All the chairs, altar and podiums have been temporarily moved against the wall to make way for God's hungry people. Did they move Jesus out of the way to do this? No, this is how they make space for Him! Make straight the way of the Lord! (Isaiah 40:3, John 1:23).

I had the privilege of attending Beeler's Chapel United Methodist Church early on Sunday morning. I appreciated greatly Pastor Denver Davidson's deep faith and well considered thoughts. I like that they make Ash Wednesday ashes not just from bunt palms but also from notecards of prayer requests of members of the congregation. I repent in dust and ashes (Job 42:6).

I felt right at home in this congregation, which is located on a picturesque mountain road outside of Washburn, TN. While there, I got to connect to a number of people who live at the nearby Narrow Ridge Earth Literacy Center. They live off the grid and have a profound witness of environmental sustainability. I have been especially impressed with their natural burial cemetery which is part of their environmental witness and commitment. God saw all that He had made, and it was very good (Genesis 1:31).

Not too far down the road and just a few short minutes later, I found myself attending Mt. Eager Missionary Baptist Church. Br. Craig may have been the first Catholic ever to step foot in this and other churches in the area, but now it is somewhat easy for me to come along afterwards. I was impressed by the hospitality and vitality of the congregation, as well as the good natured presence of Pastor Gary Donehew. Be hospitable to one another without complaint (1 Peter 4:9).

My only regret is not getting a picture of the view from the entrance of the church looking out. The mountain panorama is something that can strike awe into the heart of any person and never grows old. I may be back to snap that picture, but I am not going back today. After an inch of snow and ice fell last night on those steep mountain dirt roads, I am sticking to the highways today! If you want a taste, check out the cover picture for this blog, because it was taken from this very same part of the country.

I headed back to Maynardville for Sunday evening service at Hines Creek Missionary Baptist Church. They operate a critical food pantry for Union County, which is itself an ecumenical effort. For I was hungry and you gave me food (Matthew 25:35-40).

This is also one of the most musically talented congregations I have ever visited. Members make up at least two different music groups. I especially enjoyed the country Gospel of the Beason family and look forward to hearing them play again in the future. Good food and good music, this is what makes this church a pillar in the community by all reckoning! Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation (Psalm 95:1).

The one word that comes to my mind after this weekend in east Tennessee is this: Hospitality. Each of these churches was so welcoming and gracious to this shy outsider who speaks in a very obvious northern accent. I would like to see these kind spirited people again. We do worship the same God. We may have different ideas about how to do that and sometimes even what that means, but we are all doing the best we can to make our way through the fog. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. (1 Cor 13:12). 

I am glad to have met these Christian brothers and sisters of mine in east Tennessee! Br. Craig has estimated that there are over 210 churches in these two counties, so these four are just a small sampling, but if each of us took a step to get to know just one other church, we would build quite a relationship.

If you would like this Catholic to attend your church, and you live in the rural US Southeast, drop me a line!  I would love to visit your church and celebrate our mutual relationship with Christ together!

Racial Healing in a Small Town



Reconciliation statue at Coventry Cathedral.

This is going to be one of those stories where the names and locations are kept anonymous to protect privacy.  When it comes to racial and religious reconciliation, all too often the most heartfelt stories are also the most confidential.

It is a story that needs to be told, though. I will do my best to share the light and protect all parties.

My travels take me all across the US rural Southeast--to small towns and hollers, cities and hamlets, mountaintops, farms and empty lots. For some reason, my work has not yet taken me to the beach, but I have been to just about every other geographic feature in this region. I digress.

This story takes place in one of those small towns.

Like so many locations in the rural Southeast, this town has had a long and difficult history along racial and religious lines. Many people are eager to move beyond the past they have inherited, even if they are not altogether sure how to do that. However, there is much work to be done and many levels of consciousness where this work still needs to happen.

This is a town with a ministerial association. For those not familiar with the term, this is a group where local ministers from various churches come together for dialogue and shared projects. It was not that long ago that mutual condemnation and shunning were the typical manner that churches from different denominations treated each other, so these ministerial alliances have been a huge force in moving beyond that. Pastors get together to break bread, organize events and discern ways to serve the community together.

It can take a tremendous bravery for folks to be willing to give this a try, especially when the history has been particularly difficult. After generations of misunderstandings and mistreatment--with much of it still a very living memory--folks cross religious, racial and ethnic lines to take the first steps toward fellowship with one another in faith. It takes real vulnerability, because doing this will often bring all those unhealed wounds and misunderstandings right to the surface. It takes faith to even try and an outpouring of grace to succeed, and that is exactly why the church can sometimes be the best way to bring a fractured community together.

Among their activities, this ministerial alliance in question has organized a community-wide Martin Luther King Jr. worship service. It has been going on for over 10 years with tentative but strong involvement from local churches, black, white and Hispanic. In fact, every church in town would participate. It was a growing and well-regarded annual occasion.

All that came to a halt when a very unfortunate incident happened.

After an MLK Jr. worship service a few years ago, the assembled people shared food and fellowship. One of the African-American churches had led the assembly in music that day. During this fellowship, a white person was overheard complaining: "I wish those people wouldn't sing so loud!" Word of this got back to the respective churches, and the African-American church that had sung that day became very upset. They subsequently withdrew from the ministerial alliance and from all such events in town.

It may be difficult to understand the kind of harm such a statement can carry if you do not share the same history of segregation, injustice and persecution. This is why it is so important for communities to listen to each other and respect each others' feelings. Was this an offhanded comment of a single individual? It is easy to fear that perhaps this individual was speaking aloud the hidden thoughts of the larger community. It is easy to understand why a community that had experienced a long history of negativity toward them would not want to re-engage with this kind of negativity again, especially if the veil of politeness was masking a hidden racism that manifested as jokes told behind their backs.

Reconciliation can be a very fragile thing. People are silently wondering--can we trust you? Are we really going to put the past behind us and take real steps forward, or are we just going to keep reliving the past? This is true whether the reconciliation is religious, racial, ethnic or along other lines.

In another anonymous town in another anonymous location, I have seen a Catholic and Pentecostal church develop a robust and warm friendship. They were a model relationship and had many layers of connection over the course of a few years. Nevertheless, this partnership came to a screeching halt when old theological fears flared up and one community became worried about the influence and legitimacy of the other. In still other places, I have seen Hispanics and Muslims go from regular, friendly faces in the community to barely tolerated outsiders as larger cultural trends in American politics have a very real local impact on very real individuals. Islamophobia and anti-immigrant rhetoric, so often bandied about in the media and on talk radio, often turns into real bruises on real people in towns all across this country.

Unity can be so fragile.

Going back to the first small town, all the hard work of building harmony together was suddenly eroded after one unfortunate incidence. This African-American church would no longer participate in activities with the other churches. The ministerial alliance continued with their services, but it was not quite the same. It was like a member of the family was no longer there. It was impossible to say the whole community was coming together when it was not.

Some of the pastors attempted to bridge the divide in the years since then, but the offended church was not interested in rejoining.

Until now.
 

Just a couple weeks ago, a group of white women from the community decided to go to this African-American church to attend their worship service. As is customary, there was a time for visitors to stand up, introduce themselves and talk about why they decided to attend worship.

They made an announcement. They said they heard there was a terrible insult. They said they were sorry and apologized. They invited this church to come back, saying, "We need you." They invited them to attend the MLK Jr. Day worship scheduled for the following week and join in the service.

The women were not sure what impact this might have had. On the day of the MLK Jr. service, it looked at first like there was no sign of this African-American church returning and participating in the service. However, one woman saw the pastor and some congregations members sitting in the back. After the service, the women approached them and thanked them for coming. The pastor said he appreciated the invitation. He let them know there was not enough time for the whole choir to prepare, but they would do so another time in the future.

It is easy to feel the first steps toward healing have happened.

 

I was not privy to all the discussion in this community. I do not know what made this church take this step. Perhaps it was a combination of the healing effect of time plus the sum total of other attempts at reconciliation. Nevertheless, this encounter seemed to break the ice.

The power of a public apology is so powerful. These women were able to do what their pastors alone were not. They went out of their way to invite this church back, and their words and actions made it clear--the individual who made that comment does not speak for the whole community.

A public apology is one of the most rarely used tools at our disposal in our culture. We do it even more rarely for actions committed by others in the past. But these women recognized that even though they did not commit this insult, by being part of the community they have a responsibility to make it right.  

I am reminded of the actions of Pope Francis. He goes out of his way on regular occasions to apologize for the actions of some Catholics--or the Catholic Church as a whole--in the past. You can just Google search "Pope Francis apologizes" and you will find a quite a bit of material.

Most recently, Pope Francis apologized for the ways Catholics have treated other Christians throughout history. No, Pope Francis did not personally commit those grievous acts of violence against non-Catholics in previous centuries. But as pope, he along with all faithful Catholics carry the mantle of an inherited tradition. That means inheriting the good as well as the bad. It means a Catholic cannot be proud to stand on the shoulders of the robust intellectual and artistic tradition and the works of mercy of the saints without also living in the tragic legacy of unhealed wounds and tainted riches that have come from dubious sources.

Americans have a difficult time with this. We are quick to be proud of the traditions of our families, our nation and our churches.  We are proud to stand on the shoulders of the noble people who have come before us. However, we distance ourselves from anything negative that comes along with that. Apologies and reparations are widely unpopular in modern US culture.

Whether we personally have committed negative acts directly or not, we as a community always bear responsibility for making it right. It may seem unfair to inherit someone else's mess, but if we are quick to accept the good from our ancestors that means we also have to take ownership of the bad, too. It is a package deal.

There is always a danger in a story like this in portraying the white women as the heroes, which can run the risk of perpetuating a subtle racism rather than overcoming it. However, I think that is a risk worth taking, as long as we proceed with care and sensitivity. Not taking that risk and just doing nothing would be far worse. 

Besides, I don't see this story as one-sided. Both sides of this fracture have taken steps in bravery and vulnerability to work towards reconciliation. I admire people who are willing to do this very difficult but necessary work.  Otherwise, the pain just gets passed down from generation to generation and it never goes away until someone engages with it. Just like Jesus healed through touch, we must also be willing to touch our wounds and the wounds of others for healing to happen. We must proceed gently.  If we err, let's make sure we always err on the side of apologizing too much and giving each other too many chances, rather than too few.  Seventy times seven chances, actually.

Setbacks can bring despair, especially after the hard work of years can seem to evaporate in an instant. But setbacks are to be expected, as the path to reconciliation is rarely a straight line.  Each setback affords us the opportunity to renew our commitment to each other.  A setback can be a fracture or an opportunity for grace.

I suggest we keep this anonymous small town in our thoughts and prayers. They have certainly inspired me.

Let us hope that God continues to bless this work of reconciliation done in Christ's name!

II Corinthians 5:17-20

Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.