Moving Beyond Tribalism, Jesus Style



Missionary celebrating Mass in a rural barn.
Glenmary archives.



Jesus seemed to treat everyone who crossed his path with the same respect and dignity. I find this to be one of the most amazing things about his earthly ministry.

It didn't matter if someone were rich or poor. Jesus seemed equally willing to be scandalized by hanging out both with "sinners" and tax collectors (I put "sinners" in quotes because maybe the Bible was recording the public chatter, and "sinners" was really another word for "outcasts"). Jesus developed quite a reputation for himself for doing this.

Jesus could still be tough on people. He could still get angry. But he never seemed to lose sight of that basic, God-given dignity of every person. 

This is enormously difficult for most of us. When we encounter anyone, we often do it through layers of social strata. We are quick to find out which groups they belong to. Which race?  Which political party? Which religious denomination? Which social class? What profession?

It's like we need to know these things before knowing how to interact with someone. We may take their opinions more or less seriously based on which groups they belong to.

Jesus seemed to completely ignore all of the above and simply interacted directly with the person.

Imitating Jesus in this--I believe--is one of the strongest aspects of Christian discipleship. And the most challenging.


Free Christian Clip Art, ©2008 GospelGifs

We don't handle cognitive dissonance very well.

We develop allegiance to certain groups or causes--our family, our denomination, our race, our country. We have plenty of reasons to sing the praises of our group and plenty of reason to deride the aspects of others. A lot of that may very well be based on fact--or at least, a highly-selective representation of the facts.

But what happens when a piece of information come along that doesn't fit into the narrative mold that we have fashioned? What if something comes along that challenges the way we have put it all together in our mind?

Studies have shown that our tendency is to simply throw away the new information outright. Or we rationalize or find other ways to minimize it. We say things like: "Oh, that's not a big deal." "That was just an off day." "This person is not as bad as that other person."

You can see this play out in American politics. People will support a candidate even though that person may be complicit in doing the very same things that we claimed were the reasons for not supporting another candidate from another party.

Many people today support Donald Trump who were the very same people who couldn't tolerate Bill Clinton's sexual antics. Clinton was so bad, they argued, that they had Clinton impeached. There was no shortage of sermons and soliloquies deriding and denouncing Bill Clinton for this. In their equation, Clinton's sexual exploits made him unfit for the Office of President. Period. There was no room for ambiguity. No if's, and's or but's. He was a terrible role model, they argued, and any other positive achievements he may have made were tainted by these sexual exploits.

Trump has arguably a far more scandalous history of sexual exploits. He has shown no remorse or evidence that he wants to change any of that. Yet, he is accepted by the same people who found Bill Clinton unacceptable.

I hear very few cries from the "moral majority" about this. I hear more talk about the "lesser of evils" and "trying to look at the whole package" and other rationalizations. Perhaps the crusade against Clinton wasn't really about his sexual exploits in the first place--maybe that was just a cover for other motives.

Or maybe this is an example of a poor way of dealing with cognitive dissonance.  It goes something like this:  If he's in your political party, you shrug off his negative side. If he's not in your group, you hold his feet to the fire and hate him for most everything he does. You give the benefit of the doubt to those in your group and you have little tolerance for those outside your group.

[And yes, I am quite aware that these same kinds of arguments could and should be made about candidates on the "other side."]

That's exactly the opposite of what Jesus was modeling for us.

Jim Wallis is right in saying that racism is American's "original sin." Perhaps it's the original sin of the entire human race. Jesus tried to pull us out of this tribalism--where we have unquestioned brand loyalty to "our group" and suspicion, derision and outright hatred for those in other groups.

It's a good exercise to listen to what someone says without first knowing anything about their background. I have done this in online chat rooms. I have read brilliant commentary from people who later turned out to be extremely young, and have also read moronic commentary from people who I later discovered to be doctors, lawyers and heads of industry--the so-called high status professions. I might have listened to all of them differently if I had known ahead of time their age or position. 

In a likewise manner, it's good to take passages from famous speeches and ask people their opinion. Later, tell them who said it.

Authentic, Jesus-style dialogue calls us to leave tribalism behind and enter this space of Mystery.  We call this liminal space--it exists between categories and preconceived notions. It's just listening to what is truly being said and interacting with the truth of the person in front of you without first labeling based on which groups a person is associated with. It's the space where we can hear God so well, because we have suspended our own assumptions and conclusions and can truly listen.

It takes a lot of work to evaluate everyone and everything on their own merits and not rush to conclusions based on which group they belong to.

The Meaninglessness of Life

I have to admit that my favorite part of the Bible is the book of Ecclesiastes. It is famous for the passage which forms the song Turn, Turn, Turn, written by Pete Seeger and popularized by the Byrds--"There is a time for every purpose under Heaven."

Yet, many Christians keep the book at arm's length. Some even wonder why it is even in the Bible at all. It is the proverbial red-headed stepchild. A lot of folks don't know what to do with it. It's kept around, because we are loyal to the biblical canon. In other words, we are stuck with it, but we just sort of keep it... over there.

It could have been written today. It's message is extremely modern. Qoheleth is struggling with a sense of existential angst. Everything seems futile. All our hard work seems to amount to nothing.  Generations of people come and go.  He struggles with the purpose of life.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't struggled with those very same questions.

Case in point: I have known my grandparents. I know something about my great-grandparents (at least some of them), but with the exception of a detail or two, that's as far back as my history goes. I barely know anything about the very people I come from just a few generations before me. Yet, I imagine they had joys and sorrows. I imagine they achieved much and failed a lot, too. Yet, they came and went. It's wrong to say they have no enduring legacy, because I'm here--but the details of their lives have been all but lost.

It's easy to wonder, like Qoheleth does, what's the point of it all?  Do we just eat, drink and be merry and make the most of our short time?  Qoheleth seems to have tried that. Yet, just looking for temporary pleasures doesn't bring him fulfilment, either. It reminds me of another song:  U2's I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. Nothing seems to satisfy him.

Qoheleth commits himself to hard work. He is as industrious as anyone, having achieved more than most. He gets some satisfaction from a job well done, but that doesn't last. He sees the false pride that is underneath the pursuit of "hard work" (Eccles. 4:4). This is not the prosperity Gospel. He is still empty.

Do we fall into despair? Do we just give up?

It's probably good that Ecclesiastes just sort of hangs there, unresolved. We like everything wrapped up in tidy little boxes, but the spiritual journey is one of struggle. The Bible is not ultimately a book of easy answers but rather of toiling with the deep questions. The Book of Ecclesiastes makes perfect sense in light of that.

The paradox is: You just can't get to the answers without agonizing over the questions for a while.

We do ourselves a tremendous disservice when we attempt to resolve all questions as quickly as possible. Great spiritual masters tell us that God often speaks to us in the spaces between our words and our thoughts.  If we seek easy answers and don't leave space for God, we may be missing a lot--that's true even if we fill that space with God, because all we are doing is filling that space with what we think of as God--our own conceptions and voice--which actually can drown out God's voice.

It is almost as if the writer of Ecclesiastes in desperation reaches some kind of breakthrough. Sometimes you have to be pushed to your utter limits to break into the liminal space necessary for change and growth. The writer realizes that this is indeed a world of dust--and that's okay. We have to trust God in that.

It is an enormous challenge to face this. It is good to realize this, though, as that forces us to grow. It forces our true self to grow through the shell of the false self, so we can live our true nature. But those are some major growing pains and they hurt. It is normal to experience a monumental grieving process, because there is a lot at stake--virtually everything we know gets carried off in the wind like so much dust.

In the Gospels, Jesus is continually calling on us to discern between what is eternal and what is not. Jesus calls us to let go and be not afraid. He tells us that there is reason to hope in this, even if--or maybe especially if--we hang onto hope by the skin of our calloused fingertips with our last bit of strength. He tell us that what is lasting is not of this world--it is of the Kingdom. All worldly pursuits, all riches, even the emotional "riches" of pride--maybe especially so--come from dust and return to dust. At best they are meaningless, at worst they are distractions that keep us from finding true meaning.

You have to realize that this world amounts to nothing more than dust in order to really understand the message of Jesus. We are not supposed to build a permanent home for ourselves here. Jesus made that quite clear.

Everything of this world does perish. Qoheleth is right in discovering this. 

The rest of the story (in the voice of Paul Harvey), however, is that everything of God does not perish.  When it is all said and done, all that remains is faith, hope and love (1 Corinthians 13:13).  That is exactly why it behooves us to let go of everything false to live into this Truth: Give up everything and be with the poor in faith, hope and love. If we were not so attached to our possessions, our wealth and our worldly sense of security, we would probably do this rather easily. It involves us shedding our false self to let the Kingdom within shine. Jesus shows us the Way: He continually ignored worldly titles and statuses and instead encountered anyone and everyone in peace and recognized their dignity. He is in and with the poor. That is where Jesus is and that is where his Church ought to be.

Our religious structures can be a barrier for this true spiritual journey, too. When we think our church is the only "right" one, when our doctrines are the "best," then we can actually stop listening to God and listen only the echo chamber of our own conclusions. Make no mistake--God can speak to us through religious doctrines and structures, but when they become a false idol then the religious tradition that could have pointed us to God now stands in the way. 
 

Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher,
    vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
What do people gain from all the toil
    at which they toil under the sun?

A generation goes, and a generation comes,
    but the earth remains forever.
The sun rises and the sun goes down,
    and hurries to the place where it rises.

The wind blows to the south,
    and goes around to the north;
round and round goes the wind,
    and on its circuits the wind returns.

All streams run to the sea,
    but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
    there they continue to flow.

All things are wearisome;
    more than one can express;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
    or the ear filled with hearing. 

What has been is what will be,

     and what has been done is what will be done;
    there is nothing new under the sun.

Is there a thing of which it is said,
    “See, this is new”?
It has already been,
    in the ages before us.

The people of long ago are not remembered,
    nor will there be any remembrance
of people yet to come
    by those who come after them

Ecclesiastes 1:1-11 (NRSV)

On Sustainability: No Need to Look Under the Hood

People are working hard to take better care of the environment. We are unraveling generations of bad practices that have unfortunately become commonplace. As Pope Francis pointed out so well in his encyclical Laudato Si, we are living in a way that is simply not sustainable. What we are taking from the earth is not being adequately replaced. The natural cycles of growth and decay are no longer in balance. Sometimes it takes a scientist to show the problems, but often we can see it for ourselves.

The word "sustainable" has just become part of our regular lingo. It's sometimes used in place of other words about the environment. As a result, we often don't pay attention to it. We should pause and consider what it means--if something is not sustainable, that means--by definition--that it cannot continue perpetually. The system will eventually run out and run dry.

If topsoil is eroding faster than it is being created, then once fertile farmlands will turn into deserts. Many of our utilities are powered by coal, but we know that coal will run out and contribute to greenhouse gases and toxic air pollution in the meantime. If we cut down trees to burn wood but do not replant new ones, we will eventually run out of trees--or at the very least, reduce how much forestland covers the earth which reduces habitat for wildlife. There are limits on these resources.

It does not require climate scientists showing mathematically sophisticated computer models to see these examples. If we accidentally dump motor oil into our morning coffee, we have polluted it. Our delicious morning brew is now undrinkable. We are simply saying that this is happening on a larger scale. For example, pollution from burning coal ruins river and lakes, and makes them unfit for swimming, fishing and for drinking water.

The earth does not have an infinite ability to process all these toxins at the rate we are producing them. Humans have historically assumed that the earth was a "bottomless pit" that could absorb whatever trash we threw her way. We now realize that just as we can pollute small areas, like our cup of coffee, we can also ruin large areas, too--up to an including the whole climate of the planet.

Some people accuse the pope of being hopelessly unrealistic, but it's the opposite: The current system is unrealistic. We have gotten accustomed to something that is doomed from the start. The good news is that we do not have to live this way. It is going to take all hands on deck--from individual households to companies to governments. We can all evaluate how our decisions affect the common home we all share.

Imagine I am going to take a car ride from Columbus, OH, to my office in Fairfield, OH. Google Maps says it is a 133 mile trip one-way. I have this wonderful car--a gift from my father. It is not mine, though. It's for my children, but I am free to use it until they are old enough. However, I only have enough gasoline to go 100 miles. In addition, the oil has begun leaking out.

Nobody in their right mind would support my decision to do this. If for some reason the oil does not completely leak out and burn out the engine, ruining the car and risking a highway accident, then the gasoline will eventually run out. The math is easy: Attempting to go 133 miles when there is only enough fuel for 100 makes no sense. This is compounded because I know there's an oil leak. What a sad way to treat a gift that is really meant for my children to enjoy.

This is an analogy of what we are doing with the climate. We are on an unsustainable, suicide mission. On the surface, the car looks fine. It runs well enough. However, looks can be deceiving. Sometimes you need to pop open the hood to get the real story. By the time the car shows symptoms of the problems, it may be too late. But if you are really honest with yourself--you don't really have to look under the hood. You already knew the math doesn't work.

The same is true for the earth. If you take a look outside your bedroom window, you may see birds flying, trees thriving and green grasses. There may be hot days and cold days. It takes a scientist to pop open the proverbial hood to give us another look--bee populations (who do critical pollinating) are dying off. Most rainwater has pesticide residue in it. Virtually all seafood has some level of toxins in them. Plastics are being absorbed into the food chain. The earth's temperature has been steadily rising since the industrial revolution began and the forests and grasslands to neutralize these greenhouse gases are being chopped down. Everything may start to look more bleak.

We can treat the earth with the same common courtesy we would treat a neighbor: If you borrow their car, you return it--with a full tank of gas. If you make a mess, you clean it up. If you damage something, you fix it or replace it. It's just responsible stewardship.

 

10 Ways Clothing Choices Can Impact Care for Creation

The bread which you store up is the bread of the hungry;

the garment hanging in your wardrobe is the garment of him who is naked;

the shoes you do not wear are the shoes of the one who is barefoot;

the acts of charity that you do not perform are so many injustices that you commit.

St. Basil the Great

When people think about being more environmentally responsible, the first topics that come to mind usually involve transportation habits, utilities usage and food consumption. These are all very important. However, there is another area that we often overlook: Clothing. Almost every decision we make about clothing can have an impact on other people as well as on the earth we all share.

In honor of the World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation, I offer the following. These are all very practical suggestions, but they can also be a gateway to a deeper spiritual exploration. See in these tips a nudge to focus, simplify, contemplate and rest. They can help us tune in better to our relationship with the earth and with our fellow humans.

Purchases

1. Buy Fewer Clothes. This is a hard one for Americans. We have become accustomed to accumulate--let's get more and more. But ask yourself--do you really enjoy all of the outfits you own? Like most American men, I use the same half dozen shirts and pants while many other items hang in my closest and rarely see the light of day. I spend more time just managing all this extra stuff in storage than I do actually using it. Clothing is very resource intensive. The cotton grown is sprayed with more pesticides than most food crops and synthetic materials are petroleum based. Most clothing is also made by people exploited for barely subsistence wages. We can do better.

2. Donate Clothing. It is easy for me to hoard. Sometimes it is the quote from St. Basil above that helps me let go. I have possessions taking up space when there are poor people who could benefit from them. I keep some mementoes for nostalgia, and I try to purge the rest. It helps to think of it as just sharing it with someone else rather than truly letting it go.

3. Buy Second Hand Clothing. It's not just ecological; it's not just economical . . . it's also fashionable! Why spend $30-60 on a pair of pants when you can get virtually the same item for $5? You may end up with a stylish retro wardrobe. It may take some hunting and pecking in order to find the right items, but you have to do that at retail stores, too. I know people who dress themselves almost entirely from thrift stores and they look every bit as sharp and stylish as people spending more money for the same items at retail prices. We can live smarter.

4. Consider Organic/Fairly Traded Clothes. This one is hard, as the availability of these items is still pretty low and the cost is often high. However, we must ask ourselves not why these items are so expensive, but rather why is most clothing so cheap? Chances are, that cost is being paid for in damage to the earth and abusive labor practices.

Laundry

5. Wash Clothes Less Often. I enjoy being clean as much as anybody, but let's face it--a day at the office does not require a thorough wash with heavy duty laundry detergent. Wash socks and undergarments each time but pants, sweaters and shirts can often get multiple uses between washes. This saves water, reduces the environmental pollution from detergents and saves on your carbon footprint. Most importantly, it frees up time that you could spend with your family and on other nobler pursuits, such as allowing time for rest and for honoring God. We have been conditioned to think we have to 'keep up with the Joneses' and spend virtually all of our energy in this never-ending treadmill of consumption and busy-ness. Most of it is not necessary--all that extra work depletes us, depletes the environment, and gets in the way of our relationships and spirituality. We can re-learn how to be people who honor the Sabbath--rest and contemplation of God are so important. In fact, Pope Francis recently recognized "contemplation of creation" as a Spiritual Work of Mercy!

5. Let Nature Do The Drying. This has become controversial. In fact, there are many neighborhoods where it is prohibited to dry your clothes outdoors! Some of those neighborhoods are starting to change and allow this once again. In the meantime, you can get an indoor drying rack. Why spend money and pollution-producing energy spinning clothes in a clothes dryer when God has given us the sun and the wind for that very purpose? Maybe the climate in your area is not conducive to drying clothes this way year-round, but all of us can take advantage of it from time to time. I have a collapsible wooden drying rack from a local Amish builder, similar to the picture. I use it to hang clothes as well as house plants.

6. Use Ecologically Friendly Detergents. We are all downstream from some people and upstream from others. The earth is a fully integrated system. What goes down the drain goes to our neighbors, and we get what others have put down the drain previously. It goes into the topsoil, rivers and oceans. Animals and plants can be harmed.

8. Use Energy Efficient Machines. When possible, find an Energy Star model. A good rule of thumb is to keep the machines you have and use them until they break down. Getting rid of working appliances in order to swap them out with more efficient models sounds great at first, but all the energy required to manufacture and transport a new appliance, plus all of the landfill waste that accumulates when it is thrown away, means that it is better to use what you have until it cannot be used any more.

9. Keep It Retro! I often find myself perusing the home fixer upper channels. All too often, I see a family on House Hunters walk into a perfectly functional house and declare that they would have to "upgrade" all of the appliances for something more stylish. I have to admit it is hard to watch that. I like style as much as anybody, but to throw away something that works perfectly fine just because it does not have a contemporary look seems wasteful. We ought to at least consider whether there are ethical implications of that decision. Can those used appliances be given to low-income families or will they just be thrown out? That is money we could use for other purposes, such as sharing with the poor. The time spent selecting, purchasing and installing new items could be time spent with our families, walking in nature or volunteering to help the needy.

10. Repair. How many times have we all thrown out a shirt just because it was missing a button? We should ask ourselves--is it really more convenient to get in your car, drive to the nearest retail outlet, select and purchase a new shirt, remove tags and drive back to your home than it is to simply sew on a new button? Some effective marketing has conditioned us to believe that buying something new is easier and more convenient--often, it is not.

As Pope Francis describes so well, being environmentally minded is not an isolated practice. How we treat our common home is also directly related to how we treat ourselves and our fellow human beings, especially the poor. It shows how we honor and regard God, too. In just these few examples, we can see that when we are wasteful with clothing choices, not only do we potentially harm God's creation, but we can also waste our time, talent and treasure doing things that are very unnecessary. We can squander what God has given us running this never-ending treadmill of consumption. As St. Basil reminds us, that is all time, talent and treasure that could be mobilized to benefit the poor.

The First Commandment Shall Be Last

 

When Jesus said, "The last shall be first and the first shall be last," I highly doubt He meant that the first and Greatest Commandment should be the last thing on our list of things to do.

If you run a successful business, you are probably centered on a mission. You evaluate everything you do in light of that mission. Knowing human nature, you have to be reminded of it time and again, to make sure it stays front and center.

You might distill that mission into a motto and share it on bumper stickers, placards hanging on doors and anywhere else eye-worthy.

Great businesses keep their eyes on the ball.

This is part five in a series exploring the centrality to Christian faith of what we have traditionally called the Greatest Commandment (links to the others are at the bottom of this post).

Jesus told us in all four Gospels: We are to love God and neighbor abundantly. Jesus gave many commands throughout the Gospels, but this one is called the "Greatest" for a reason--Jesus actually said this was primary.

Being loving is not just a collection of isolated actions. Love is not just something we tack onto our other actions. Rather, Jesus tells us that Love is the essential infrastructure on which all the other rules and parameters hang, as we explored in the previous post. We ought to put it first and then re-order everything else in light of it.

If what we do isn't loving God and neighbor, we should seriously question why we are doing it at all.  We should immediately give some serious thought to what else we should be doing instead.

Before we do anything and everything, the question that should be forever on our lips from the moment we wake till we bed down to sleep at night is: Are we loving God and loving neighbor in what we do? 

We should be researching, compiling lists, best practices. It should be out front and open.

There should be study groups at every church on how to love God and love one another. I've been to a lot of churches and I have yet to see a "Greatest Commandment Ministry Group."
 

In response to that, I find myself asking: What part of "Greatest" and "Commandment" are we not understanding?

A "commandment" is what is sounds like--a command. 

And "greatest" is also pretty self-explanatory. I'm really not sure where the confusion is here.

I don't mean to be snarky, but this is really extraordinarily simple. This is one of the reasons why Jesus said that children will get it but adults may not--why the poor will get it but the rich won't. There is nothing intellectually difficult about the Greatest Commandment. It is the centerpiece around which all else should be built, it is the structure on which the Law should hang and it should be our primary focus as disciples and as church communities. It is the sign of our Cristian identity.

Unfortunately, religion--for all its benefits--can often train people to doubt their own childlike wisdom and common sense. It becomes a way to dumb us down rather than open us up to the Mystery.

What makes The Greatest Commandment difficult is our enormous resistance to its message. It is enormously simple. It is also enormously difficult. It takes spiritual maturity to even entertain it. It requires us having tremendous trust in God and letting go of all of our attachments. It is so strong it is like looking at the sun--we can only catch a glimpse and then our bodily reflexes immediately jolt us away.

No sooner do we hear the Commandment than we immediately find all sorts of exceptions and exemptions. We seize every opportunity to push this commandment away, keep it at arm's length, minimize it or just put it off for a rainy day. We hear it but it vibes with a massive cognitive dissonance contrary to the ways of this world, so we reflexively dismiss it--Jesus couldn't possibly have meant that, right? It's so different, it's just--out of this world.

***

You could easily say you're tired of me complaining.

You could call me out on this.

I've been rambling now for several blog posts about how much of Christianity seems to ignore--or at the very least minimize--the Greatest Commandment to love God and one another, something Jesus explicitly told us to do in all four Gospels.

You could say--and rightfully so--that love is indeed preached in the churches in all that we say and do.

It IS like looking at the sun in that we don't look at it directly, but it does illuminate everything we do.

You could say that all we do flows out of love: Our worship is a love for God. Our social justice and charity efforts come out of desire to love our neighbor. You would be hard pressed to find any positive movement for mercy and justice that did not showcase the church right in the middle of it, oftentimes starting the whole movement.

Love is everywhere in the churches, you could say.

We may not have a "Greatest Commandment" ministry group, but we do have a food pantry, a hospital visitation ministry, a social justice club and a worship committee.

It might seem trite to have a church group devoted to sewing robes for the choir--but we show love for God through worship and those robes are part of that expression. When we ask ourselves, what does love look like? The answer may be: Arthritic hands delicately tending to worn holes in altar robes or a person on their hands and knees removing wax from long-burning candles on the carpet.

Jesus tells us what to do but like a good leader He does not tell us how to do it (this is a paraphrase of General George S. Patton, who seems like a very awkward person to compare with Jesus, but I must give credit for the quote where it's due).

It's up to us to work it out, sweat it out, to paraphrase someone else (this time, it's Fr. Daniel Berrigan from Ten Commandments for the Long Haul (that's better, I'm must more comfortable with the person I'm quoting here)).

But I also know from experience that those people leading those movements for social change are often the minority. They are often mocked, ridiculed and marginalized by their own church communities. Likewise, those old men and women who stay late to clean the church are often left by themselves as the rest of the congregation hurries out the door towards Sunday picnics.

Yet, when the roll call is announced, we all-too-often want to claim those marginalized people as representing us, too. We all take pride in a clean church and in the acts of service done in our name by others.

We can read about the wondrous life of St. Francis and be convinced of his saintliness. But when Francis of Assisi knocks on the door, beckoning us to follow his example of intentional poverty and service, we refuse to open. When Martin Luther King, Jr., calls us to follow his path of nonviolent social change ,we stall.

Yet, I bet if God were to hold the church accountable for following His Commandment, we would be the first to claim that the church clean-up crew, St. Francis and MLK Jr were one of us! We'd pull them right out of the margins and push them to the front of the crowd and say, "You see! They belong with us, too!"

That is the scandal--the fact that the people who love abundantly are used as a cover for the rest of us.

There probably is some truth that these saintly people are instruments in the redemption of their respective communities--redemption and reconciliation are not exclusively individual affairs (Colossians 1:20), but that should not be an excuse for the rest of us to sit idly by.

You see, there are many places to run from the totally life-changing call of this Commandment. We have no shortage of places to wiggle out of it, deny, divert attention or claim that we are following the Commandment when we are not really heeding it much at all. This blog series is, after all, a look at all little (and not so little) ways we push the Commandment off to the side.

The way we handle saints is much like the way we treat the Greatest Commandment--which should not come as a surprise, as they are the closest living embodiments to that Commandment. We enshrine them and push them away in one brilliant, clever move.


Dorothy Day figured this out. She is famous for saying: "Don't call me a saint. I don't want to be dismissed so easily."

We either ignore the saints or we celebrate them. Both are devious ways of avoiding the task of actually being like them. Once someone has been made into a saint, we subtly put them into a category of "superhuman" and just keep them at arm's length. It's like the more we honor them the less we have to be like them!

Dorothy Day tried hard to avoid that. She's a person like me and you. What she did is something we could all do. As much as she loved the litany of saints, she knew the risks that come with that designation.

I wish I could remember who said this, and if I ever figure out how to properly attribute it, I will gladly do so. It was a great quote that went something like: Everybody loves St. Francis, but nobody wants to be St. Francis!

We love this belief stuff.

We aren't so fond of this action stuff.

Love is there. But it's not front and center like Jesus told us it should be. That is the scandal.

And yes, love does factor into why we do what we do. Why we have social justice committees is to love our neighbor. Why we have beautiful worship services is because we love God. But when God Himself gives us the Commandment to follow, how often have we made that the #1 priority?

We don't flat out deny Jesus' Commandment--we just mention it and then quietly push it off to the side to focus on something else.

We entertain the Greatest Commandment and nurture gentle embers. But why isn't it preached front and center? Why isn't it preached as essential? Why isn't it preached as fundamental? It's like we kept the words of Scripture, but we have removed all its teeth.

The Greatest Commandment comes off like something we do on the side--and that's how we have ignored it. It's hiding in plain sight. We keep it--sure. We do a few good things in the name of love, of course. We honor many saints throughout history, hoping that their witness, by association, somehow gives credit and credibility to us.

If we had just tossed out the Commandment, it would have been a pretty obvious affront to Jesus. So we keep it, and we just sort of . . . ignore it. And we all benefit from ignoring it. We talk about it just enough to act like we have checked it off our list. But Jesus wants our enthusiastic "all in."

We put The Greatest Commandment in its golden cage: Right in the middle and completely neutralized, ignored and immobilized, like the poor elephant in the living room.

***


This is part 5 in the series, "What Makes a Christian?" Each part stands on its own.
Part 1: The Elephant in the Living Room
Part 2: Like Looking at the Sun
Part 3: John 3:16 vs the Greatest Commandment
Part 4: The Law Hangs in the Balance of Love
Part 5: The First Commandment Shall Be Last

The Law Hangs in the Balance of Love

Part 4 in the series What Makes a Christian? Each part stands on its own. See below for links to the other installments.

 

 

Sometimes our greatest breach with Scripture is not when we outright contradict it--it's what we choose to prioritize, diminish or outright ignore. There is a time for everything under heaven (Ecclesiastes 3:1). We need to put first things first and second things second.

 

Much of Christianity focuses on salvation plans and doctrinal ideas.

However, Jesus in full voice in Scripture is very clear what we should prioritize: It is the Greatest Commandment, i.e. love God and love one another.

Maybe I'm just a simple country boy at heart, but it just seems straightforward.

Remember that Jesus presented the Greatest Commandment as the full package: It's the key to the Kingdom and eternity; it's the key to our public witness of our faith; and it's the key to interpreting all of Law--See John 13:34-35, Mark 12:28-34, Luke 10:25-37 and Matthew 22:34-40, respectively.

That last clause above is crucial. In the debate about what to prioritize, Jesus gives us a clue in the Gospel of Matthew's treatment of the Greatest Commandment:

Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Matthew 22:34-40.

The last line there hits me like a bullet: All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.

This is a huge statement.

It is a statement that has not gotten anywhere near the attention it deserves. Most Christians are busy arguing about what the Law should be. Jesus is saying there is something bigger, more pivotal and more fundamental than that.

The vast traditions of Christian denominations have this absolutely backwards--we try to figure out how to pepper in love and compassion into a rigid structure of rules, doctrines and practices. Jesus is calling our imagination to do the very opposite--to be immersed in the practice of love in which we pepper in rules, doctrines and practices to give it form and ornamentation when appropriate.

It makes you wonder if we have been reading Scripture at all.

Jesus is speaking against a cold, impersonal use for the Law. If there is anything that Jesus railed against during his years walking this earth, it was making a black-and-white interpretation of the Law as the interface between humankind and the Divine. He was constantly railing against the Pharisees with their tedious "gotcha" games with the Law. Jesus clearly put Love and Mercy before any literal interpretation of the Law.

What does it mean that this commandment is the structure on which the Law hangs? I don't even know. I'm not sure that anyone knows. I think it is extremely difficult for our human minds to wrap around. But we also haven't been working very hard to unpack this meaning diligently over the past 2,000 years.

Jesus Himself is giving us an enormous clue as to how the whole kit-n-caboodle of Church and society ought to be put together--He's saying the whole thing hangs on the Commandment to love. I've been all around the Christian denominational world, and I've never heard a single sermon trying to unpack they meaning of this statement from Matthew.

When your church community makes rules, rubrics and procedures, does it ask:  How does this hang off the commandment to love God and one another?

The question may be implied, but why isn't it more explicit?

The Good News is that Jesus gave some examples to show how to be in relationship with the Law:

Jesus fed the hungry and healed on the Sabbath (Matthew 12:1-13). It may be hard for us to understand this today, but at the time, these were serious offenses. He was violating some of the most sacred practices of his faith tradition. He was not keeping the Sabbath day Holy by resting. Sure, people may have suffered being hungry and ill, but that was considered unfortunate but acceptable collateral damage for being true to God's Commandment.

In terms of the letter of the Law, there was no question that Jesus was at fault.  He did not observe the Sabbath, and the Law allowed for no exceptions--case closed. Jesus had a different view, however.  He saw that he was fulfilling the Law rather than contradicting it (Matthew 5:12). Perhaps feeding the hungry and healing the sick is what made the day Holy, after all.

I would suggest that what Jesus is requiring of us is to take the Law--which is an evolving piece as it is--and keep it in constant relationship with the demands of mercy and the lived experiences of people in their conscience and context.

I hear the Scribes and Pharisees yelling at Jesus, saying, "You broke the law!"

I hear Jesus saying in reply, "You had to be there, and then you would understand."

And that's just it--we have to be there. After all, the word "compassion" literally means, "to suffer with." Outside of a true compassion that can only come--by definition--out of solidarity with others, we cannot possibly interpret--nor implement--the Law appropriately.

While most Christians today do not have any aversion to working on the Sabbath, what are some other religious and lifestyle practices today that are completely prohibited?  What might Jesus say to those in light of this passage from Matthew 12?

***

Some argue that Jesus came to abolish the rigid, black-and-white legal system of Jewish Law only to replace it with a rigid, black-and-white legal system of Christian Law.

This is to profoundly miss the point. I can imagine Jesus doing a major face palm here. Jesus wasn't just changing the content of the Laws themselves but rather our whole approach to Law altogether!

We try to build Love into the Law, but maybe that's not possible. Perhaps Love simply needs to accompany the Law. Or as Jesus puts it, Love needs to support the Law.

The reason is simple: Jesus said that Love is more than just a part of the Law. He said that Love is the structure on which all the Law hangs. In other words, all of Law is in relationship with the commandment to Love. Jesus had every opportunity to tell us to scrap the old Law in favor of a new one. He didn't--He told us that the Law will find its fulfillment in relationship with Love--and in that relationship, Law is secondary to Love. Love and Law are both related and  distinct.


Like double helixes of DNA - Love and Law must be in constant dialogue.

A good way to look at this might be like the double helix of a DNA structure: The letter of the Law is one strand. It must be in constant dialogue with the lived experiences of people and the demands of mercy. The two strands constantly intermingle with many points of direct contact in between.

The DNA model may be inadequate, however. It gives the impression that Love and the Law are equivalents. That is not what Jesus is saying in Matthew--Love is more foundational. The DNA model is a great way to show the interrelationship between the two, but perhaps another model is needed to properly showcase what Jesus is describing.

Maybe the best visual is to use the old standby symbol for Law:  The justice scales--with a tweak. As Francis E. Madojemu says, the key word in Matthew's passage is "hang." The Law hangs on the Commandment to Love:  "Remove it and everything falls down," says Madojemu. In this model, Love is the structure which entirely supports the rest of the Laws.

I hesitate to push any metaphor too far, but I think Jesus gives us a wide berth here. If the Law hangs on Love, then we can infer some things--that Law can only be something that will not disrupt what Love has put in place. If the Law is too heavy and drags down the structure of Love, then it is out of balance. I would refer people to 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 for examples of what qualities this love would have in order to support the weight of the Law. "Love" is, after all, not merely some abstract concept but some rigorous behaviors.

Jesus gave us a metaphor that we should work with, mediate on and pray about.

Take any Church Law and visualize it this way--imagine it hanging delicately in the balance. It's sole lifeline of support is it's connection to the Commandment to love God and one another. How does that change our view of each and every Church Law?

Jesus was ushering in the Law of Love--something that he proclaimed was at the heart of Jewish Law in the first place but had been scabbed over by centuries of human insecurities and institutions.  In short, the Law had become to many a false idol. Fundamentalism is always that--a breaking of the 1st Commandment by making the religious structure an absolute rather than our best attempt to point to God. Jesus was calling us out of making pronouncements without being personally involved and walking side-by-side with people in compassion. He was ushering in the primacy of conscience.

Matthew 22:36-40 is a glaring instance where we can get all the words of Scripture right and still get the message wrong. If we build a system of Laws and make room for Love only as an optional ornament, we have a fundamentally different system compared to a system of Love which is only afterwards adorned with Laws--a system where the Laws simply cannot support themselves at all in the absence of Love.

* * *


This is part 4 in the series, "What Makes a Christian?" Each part stands on its own.
Part 1: The Elephant in the Living Room
Part 2: Like Looking at the Sun
Part 3: John 3:16 vs the Greatest Commandment
Part 4: The Law Hangs in the Balance of Love
Part 5: The First Commandment Shall Be Last

John 3:16 vs The Greatest Commandment

Part 3 in the series, What Makes a Christian? See end for links to the others.

I can go into any number of churches this weekend hear them "preach salvation." What does this mean? Believe this-or-that and you'll be guaranteed an afterlife in Heaven. In many churches across Christendom, this is probably the most common theme in a Sunday morning sermon, Bible study or prayer gathering of any kind, especially in the Evangelical world.

I can understand why people are preoccupied with their own fate--but in the words of Brian McLaren, when did Christianity become an "earth evacuation plan"?

There are a lot of assumptions that go into this kind of theology. It's quite a loaded statement, actually! We assume that the point of religion is to secure an afterlife--an afterlife that is either questionable or not available to us otherwise--and that the key to navigating this properly is to have the right beliefs.

Before you think I am picking on Evangelicals, a similar thing happens in Catholic and mainline Protestant churches. The Creed is rolled out about halfway through liturgy with a litany of "I believe this" and "I believe that."

When did belief trump action? What about simply doing what God tells us to do and trusting our fate in that?

Jesus seems to say it's not what you think but rather who you are that matters:

Jesus is very clear that the fundamental commandment is to love God and neighbor and that our witness of this will be the very mark of our Christian identity (John 13:34-35), that our closeness to the Kingdom (Mark 12:28-34) and participation in eternity (Luke 10:25-37) are contingent on it and that all other rules and parameters can be understood only in light of it (Matthew 22:34-40).

An incredible trickery happened somewhere in the history of Christianity. Early Christians were known as "followers of the Way" (Acts 9:2). Christianity was a holistic practice that impacted all areas of their lives. Somewhere this got truncated, and Christianity started looking more and more like a detached mental exercise.

I suspect I know why: Actions are difficult. Beliefs are easy. Changing one's lifestyle is just about the hardest thing to do. Ask anyone who has struggled with an addiction or has tried to lose weight or change any habit.

For everything there is a season,

and a time for every matter under heaven.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Like the vagabond poetic soul Qoheleth writes above, all things fit in God's Kingdom.

All words from Scripture fit, too.

I believe our task is to figure out how to order and prioritize them. We can end up with entirely different understandings of what it means to be a Christian--not by outright denying or contradicting anything in Scripture--but rather by choosing what to prioritize and reordering everything else in light of it.

A lot of churches start out with John 3:16 as their starting point. Catholics and many mainline Protestants start off with their doctrinal beliefs as expressed by the Creed. In this series, I explore the centrality of the Greatest Commandment to the faith--putting the commandment to love God and love one another as first and then reordering everything else in light of that. You may end up with a different theology, and frankly a whole different church this way!

For God so loved the world
 that he gave his one and only Son,

that whoever believes in him
shall not perish but have eternal life.

John 3:16

There is no other verse more widely shared as the end all, be all of Christianity. This is the ultra-succinct, Cliff Notes version of Christianity. You'll see John 3:16 signs at sporting events, on automobiles and shirts. It's just everywhere. It's like Christians are saying: If all you hear from Scripture is one thing, make sure you hear John 3:16.

What's curious is that Jesus gave very different advice. When asked directly, He said follow the Greatest Commandment: Love God and neighbor abundantly. He didn't say "believe." He said, "do."

What's gotten us into this whole mess is our understanding of the word "belief." Scholars say that the modern American mind has been thoroughly influenced by the ultra-literalist approach to English Law that was in vogue several centuries ago. Words were stripped of their literary and artistic allusions and taken in the most basic, face value way.

I don't see any suggestions in Scripture to read it that way, but each of us brings his or her own interpretive lens whenever we read anything. There is a whole science called Hermeneutics devoted to understanding this phenomenon.

So when Scripture says that our duty is to "believe" in Jesus, we interpret that to mean the intellectual assent to the idea of Jesus as God and Christ. It's right there on the page, that's what the word "belief" means, right?

If elsewhere in Scripture it says we are saved "in the name of Jesus," we apply the same interpretive lens: We end up confident that if we profess the name of Jesus as the God we adhere to, then our duties toward our salvation are fulfilled. We have to say "Jesus" and not "Mohammed" or "Buddha" or "Krishna."

It's no wonder that many denominations in Christianity have violently split due to their vociferous disagreements over theological matters. When your entire stake in eternity hinges on getting the right theological concepts in order with the right nomenclature, it is no small wonder this has become such a high anxiety scenario!

In The Name Of . . .

Imagine if I were to say I am living my life "in the name of Martin Luther King, Jr."

Let's be honest--that would probably sound pretty awkward at first listen, because nobody talks like that. But with a moment of reflection, you would probably think this sounds like an old fashioned, perhaps overly poetic way of saying that I try to emulate the values and lifestyle of MLK.

In other words, I am trying to live in the tradition of MLK. I don't think anyone would assume that this has anything to do with renaming buildings or streets or that the name itself has some magical significance. Even if there were a change in nomenclature somewhere along the line, it would only be because of what that name represents, rather than some inherent quality of the name itself.

If I say I am trying to live, "in the name of MLK," you would expect me to lead a movement for civil rights or practice nonviolent resistance to structures of injustice. You can't really separate the name of MLK from those activities, because those activities are why you know the name of MLK in the first place.

The name of MLK. only has meaning because of who he was--and who he was is not a static entity--it is a reflection of how he lived and what he said and stood for. Who he was as a noun only makes sense in light of who he was as a verb.

In other words, if we are going to be saved by the "name" of Jesus, let's not be so literalistic to think uttering the name itself is the only condition. "The name of Jesus" is shorthand for all that Jesus has said and done--His teachings and model of life.

This makes perfect sense when you hold it up to Jesus' statement of inheriting eternal life from Luke's passage (Luke 10:25-37). Inheriting eternal life is about being merciful, just as Jesus showed us by being merciful Himself. In other words, helping our injured neighbor by the side of the road IS proclaiming "the name of Jesus."

In Biblical times, your name was tied to your inheritance. If your name is "Smith," that was not just some random combination of letters to make a sound. It was rather your connection to the legacy of the Smith family--their lands, their reputation, their culture. If you conquer some new territories "in the name of Smith," you are not just assigning the unique combination of letters and sounds to this land. You are invoking the legacy and reputation of the people known as "Smith."

If you're going to be saved "in the name of Jesus," it's because you are living into the Greatest Commandment.

With a literalistic eye, it looks like Scripture is contradicting itself. In some passage, it says that we are saved by a profession of belief. In other passages, we are saved by love and good deeds. I'm here to say that those are not in conflict at all.

Scripture is not divided up between a theology of belief and a theology of action--it is a combined, holistic expression.

John 3:16 is a beautiful verse, understood this way--that God's act of sharing Jesus with us comes out of love, and that all who participate in that love through loving both God and one another follow in the Way of Jesus, which is the Way of eternity--to love Jesus so much that you imitate Him and follow His Way. To believe in His message so much that you follow it.

This is part 3 in the series, "What Makes a Christian?" Each part stands on its own.
Part 1: The Elephant in the Living Room
Part 2: Like Looking at the Sun
Part 3: John 3:16 vs the Greatest Commandment
Part 4: The Law Hangs in the Balance of Love
Part 5: The First Commandment Shall Be Last

Like Looking at the Sun

Part 2 in the series, What Makes a Christian?

***

It is amazing how often we fail a most basic mark of the faith.

It is a downright scandal how rarely it is preached.

It's questionable how directly our religious and moral practices stem from it.

Yet if we believe the direct words of Jesus Himself--you know, God--the very ability of others to recognize our Christian identity is dependent on how we follow this.

We gather in churches. We have elaborate worship and praise. And yet we barely give lip service to the first and foremost of the commandments. When we do, it is often to give exceptions--No, Jesus didn't really mean that . . .

I'm talking about the Greatest Commandment--love God and love neighbor. Abundantly.

Christians often spend more time talking about obscure lines from the Bible or obscure doctrines about obscure topics, and it's amazing how very little time we actually spend on the fundamental, core command that Jesus Himself preached to us.

If you want to take the Bible literally: God Himself actually told us what to focus on!

Jesus is very clear that the fundamental commandment is to love God and neighbor and that our public witness of this will be the very mark of our Christian identity (John 13:34-35), that our closeness to the Kingdom (Mark 12:28-34) and participation in eternity (Luke 10:25-37) are contingent on it, that all other rules and parameters can be understood only in light of it (Matthew 22:34-40). That's it. All else gets at best a distant second or third place.

And yet our denial knows no bounds. It's rubrics. It's obscure passages. It's theologizing about the finer points of a Baptism--full immersion or partial? Oil or water?

How about loving God and neighbor as the only full immersion God asks for?

Given the seriousness and centrality of the Greatest Commandment, you would think two out of every three sermons would be focused on it. You would think we'd have task forces set up to evaluate how good we are doing in living it out and suggesting ways to do it better and better.

It is so simple, yet so difficult. We do everything we can to make being "Christian" about something else--it's about church membership, a certain baptismal formula or having the right "beliefs." Even denominations at odds with one another have this in common! Way to go, ecumenism!

You could argue those other things are important, too. But we put them front and center when Jesus was clear that something else was front and center. He actually comes out and tells us to put this commandment first, and we do everything except that.

We don't outright deny the Greatest Commandment. Oh no, we would never be so bold. Rather, we do something far more sinister--we just sort of brush it aside, put it on a pedestal and otherwise ignore it.

We box it in, limit it, put the ropes around it because, in truth, it scares the living daylights out of us.

Rubrics, rules, doctrines, Morse code, alien symbols and Cracker Jack box toys--all of these only make sense in their proper place. All too often, we place them first and foremost rather than as secondary or tertiary matters which can only be properly viewed and understood in light of the primary commandment, according to the passage from Matthew above.

We find ways to rationalize. We claim that God must want our bitterness, divisions, hatreds and such, so "loving God" then becomes manifesting these things. We find every excuse NOT to love abundantly, NOT to overflow with mercy, NOT to do all that love requires of us. We can contort anything into what we want, but much of it isn't in the spirit of the New Testament. For example, we can find all sorts of examples in Scripture and Church history to support all sorts of actions. The Bible is full of war and violence of all kinds, so we could claim Biblical support for these actions. Before we blindly imitate them and claim some Scriptural backing, we should ask--does this love God and love neighbor abundantly? If not, it should go to the fires of Gehenna.

Still, individuals and churches do everything they can to wiggle out of these requirements and try to make it out to be about something else. It's not that those other things aren't important--the scandal is the disproportionate amount of energy we put into those obscure things compared to what should be first and foremost.

And let's be clear: It's absolutely and totally a scandal how we treat the Greatest Commandment.

We give lip service to love. We attempt it here and there. But we are like unruly teenagers whose parents have told us to clean the house while they are gone. So we first spend several hours watching TV, talking to our friends, and yes, thinking about cleaning the house from time to time. About 10 minutes before they return, we run roughshod over the house to give the appearance of cleanliness. That is how I see us regarding the commandment to love. We do talk about it, just enough to get that monkey off our back and claim that we are following it. But the level of enthusiasm and energy we put into it is not anywhere near what we are commanded to do by Jesus--you know, God Himself.

I'll stand up and say that theology matters. We need to ponder over the deep stuff. I'm doing it right now. We need to meditate on who Jesus was and is and what that means for us today. Our churches have all been enriched by deep theological traditions. Rituals, church institutions, doctrines--all these matter, too. They have their place--the problem is that they are not staying in their place but have all-too-often assumed center stage.

We shouldn't make the mistake of assuming that theologizing about God is the same thing as being a Christian. That would be like mistaking the pre-game huddle with the football game itself. The preparation time is NOT the game. For far too many, simply "figuring out" their personal theology is an end unto itself. Pope Francis challenges us on this: It 's not just church leaders, but also theologians who should "smell like the sheep." No one is exempt from the hard work of living out the Commandment.

I love theology, but I have to admit my faith is pretty simple.

To me, Jesus' message is both incredibly simple and also incredibly difficult at the same time. Little children get it. The poor get it. Those on the margins of society get it. The more and more "stuff" we have just makes it more difficult to hear the message. It doesn't matter if the "stuff" is material wealth or just something else we are holding onto. It could be anger. It could be our ego. It could be our need to be right. The Gospels predict this. The more attached people were to their stuff the harder time they had accepting the truth of Jesus and following.

Let that stuff go and you start to see Jesus.

Maybe the message of Jesus is like looking into the sun. It's just so bright we can't do it for long. All we can do is hint and squint at it and try to come back to it later when we are ready. There is a case to be made for that.

Maybe humankind will always be sun worshippers--the first and perhaps the only religion.

God Himself gave us the commandment. Why is this not being preached from the mountaintops? Why is this not the cornerstone of all that we say and do? Because:

Jesus is the cornerstone (Psalm 118:22, Ephesians 2:20)

and

Jesus is God (John 1:1, 1:14, Matthew 1:23)

and

 "God is love.

Whoever lives in love

lives in God,

and God in them."

(1 John 4:16)

Therefore love is the cornerstone. Our active participation in love puts us in line with God, the Creator, as love is the creative energy of the universe, and love is the wavelength of eternity.

 

***

 

This is part 2 in the series, "What Makes a Christian?" Each part stands on its own.

Part 1: The Elephant in the Living Room
Part 2: Like Looking at the Sun
Part 3: John 3:16 vs the Greatest Commandment
Part 4: The Law Hangs in the Balance of Love
Part 5: The First Commandment Shall Be Last