So, the irony
was not lost on me. In the
“Religion” section of The
Monitor last Friday appeared two columns
bearing my name. The one on
the “left” described the high school Baccalaureate
ceremony, which is sponsored and organized every
year by the Los Alamos Ministerial Alliance. The
reporter, who interviewed me for the article, made
a reference to my involvement with this
organization which (the rabbi was quoted as
saying) is “committed to valuing the many paths to
God . . . .”
The column on
the “right” page is definitely mine. In it, I
wrote, “The Bible does teach this: one day every
person will see (Christ) and every knee will bow
to Him.”
I pondered
this curious juxtaposition of antithetical
comments . . . and finally concluded that it just
might be a metaphor for my life!
Hear
this:
I believe with my whole being that Jesus is
the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I have
made a singular commitment to the truth of that
claim, and have based pretty much all of my adult
life’s work on it.
I nevertheless
find myself on occasion wondering what we have
done with that truth. I find
myself, in my more dangerous moments of quiet
reflection, fearing that the multi-layered crust
of modern religious platitudes and programs and
theologies which we have solemnly baptized as
“Christian” have obscured from sight the real
business of being Christian.
According to
an article I came across recently, the results of
Southern Baptist evangelistic efforts have been in
“plateau” since 1950! In spite
of an incredibly long list of “creative”
discipleship programs, high-powered church growth
conferences, the fascination with mega-churches,
the “program-envy” of many pastors and churches,
and a massive focus on correcting the moral issues
of the day, the “annual total baptism” numbers
have remained the same for over 50 years. (“Thank
God for the ‘conservative resurgence’,” the
article said, “or we would be in even worse
shape.”
The hubris and presumption of such a
statement beggar the
imagination.)
I challenge
you and me to ask some questions of modern
American Christianity: Have we
built some grand towers of “Babble”? Do we have
institutions, practices, and belief structures
which so command the way we do things that we are
not able to see beyond them to any other
possibilities? Are we so
fixated on defining what is right and wrong
concerning every moral quandary we face that we
are unable to ask questions, express doubt or
entertain ambivalence without fear of being
labeled weak, or worse, the dreaded “L” word?
Are we so in
need of having the final word and the absolute
answer to every question that we cannot abide
anyone who raises a thought which is inconsistent
with the accepted line? Are we so
mesmerized by the latest word of Warren, Dobson
and Colson that we relegate the word of God to
some secondary place? Do we risk
making an idol of our “fellowship” to the point
that we spend most of our time in safe and secure
groups of fellow believers, ministering to one
another with self-congratulation and
self-justification?
In these
moments, I experience an almost irresistible urge
to throw off the whole load of social expectations
and “proper” conclusions placed on Christians by
Christians these days and get down to what Jesus
is up to (opposing prepositions intended.)
Do you ever
feel that way? Do you
ever just want to pitch out the layers of
tradition and language and creed and acculturated
accommodations with which we burdened the Truth
and apprehend, with unfettered, unadulterated
simplicity and wonder, the incomprehensible moment
of the God of all creation touching your soul with
His love and
grace?
Jesus
challenged the religious establishment of His
day.
He made pointed jabs at their traditions,
rules, and religious proprieties. He
discussed contentious issues, hung out with rank
sinners, loved on runny-nosed babies, touched
lepers and other unclean heathens, took time to
talk with young seekers, and flaunted social
constraints by crossing over gender and racial
lines of
propriety.
Perhaps these
times call for a Eustace-like peeling away of
layers of religiosity and right-sounding words,
and a rediscovering of the core of the
Christ-centered life.
Frankly, my
friend, I do not wish to abandon the gospel—I want
more of the gospel. I don’t
want to add to Jesus—I don’t think I’ll ever grasp
all there is to Jesus. I can’t
claim I have all the answers—I can’t handle the
few answers I think I have. I have
enough life in this world—I want, finally, to die
to myself and follow
Him.
Summer is upon
us.
What surprises might a living, loving God
have for us in these days if we are willing to be
quiet and listen . . . if we are willing to engage
the hard questions with humility and openness . .
. if we are eager to live the journey with
curiosity and childlike simplicity? Let’s give
it a try, and just see what
happens!
With you in
the desire to experience God more fully, more
lovingly, more honestly, more quietly and simply,
I am
Yours,
Pastor
Chuck
