“For God so loved the world.”

This is, to me, an absolutely astonishing sentence; nearly impossible for me to wrap my head around.

I grew up not loving the world, but fearing, rejecting, separating from, needing cleansed from, even hating the world. Non-Christians, Catholics, the poor, “townies”, communists, immigrants, the Chinese, Arabs, homosexuals, military personel, casinos, slums, cities, governments, culture, rock and roll… I could go on, were all on the list of unlove.

And so for God to love the world, is incomprehensible! People? Sure. Individuals? You bet. But the world: in all its diversity, pluriformity of cultures, ways of expressing itself, hungers, desires, passions, loves and beauty? That God loves the world is truly the kind of thing that can transform the Church today.

It’s certainly transforming my faith, character, and lifestyle. And thankfully, I’m not alone.

Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove chronicles The Next American Revival which will connect “the gospel with society’s deep need.” He looks at various movements in history that have believed ”the stuff Jesus said matters not just for the after-life, but for our lives here and now.”  Examples are early American evangelists during the industrial revolution, the “health and wealth gospel” of pastors such as Joel Olsteen, the freedom movement in South Africa, emergent churches, progressives and those labeled “new monastics.” This is a great article worth a read.

Wilson-Hartgrove claims much of these movements have a single event that binds them together: 9/11, the 10th anniversary of which is fast approaching.

Unanticipated in so many ways, that irruption of violence on U.S. soil was a wake-up call to a whole generation that something is deeply wrong with our world—particularly, with its social systems. Of course, the tragic events of 9/11 were only symptoms of deeper problems. But those symptoms opened our eyes to systemic connections between religious extremism and extreme poverty, between unjust wars and unsustainable economics, between dependence on oil and global climate change. Eventually, an analysis of these social problems begins to connect the dots, bringing more and more of us to a frightening conclusion: we can’t go on like this. Something has to change.

I certainly remember how 9/11 shifted the tectonic plates of my young adult soul and sense of vocation. Indeed, I’m not sure I’d be a lead pastor in Houston, Texas had those towers not fallen. And after the tragic events in Norway Friday, I feel the depths of this post more than ever (I originally wrote this Thursday to publish Sunday morning).

But Wilson-Hartgrove is not alone. I’m inspired over and again by the depth and breadth of love I see in followers of Jesus who find themselves on the fringes of dominant Christian culture: Tony Jones, Brian McLaren, Shane Claiborne, Shane Hipps, Rob Bell. Many of these names are familiar. Harry Jarrett Jr.’s name might not be. But it should be.

In a confessional, probing blog Jarrett wrestles with our quietness regarding the East African drought in his post: A dilemma of presence: Ours and Gods, Why we need to do something about the famine. Jarrett laments how a group of churches in his area spent 400 people hours on an issue related to the “purity” of the denomination (“What the issue was is not important,” he says). But he laments he has no idea how to spend 400 hours today trying to share water with those in need.

I too feel his sense of weakness at addressing this massive issue. His passion and love for the world shine through his lament. You can feel it dripping through the pixels. Listen to what he says about our world’s great needs:

In the horn of Africa, it is food and water. In Lancaster county [PA],  people are loosing their jobs in droves. Where you live, it is likely something else. I believe God is present there, in those places, wondering why we are discussing issues that will most certainly be completely spoken to when we are dead and gone. I believe that in the end we will know fully, see fully and understand fully, when we stand fully in the presence of God. Why must we resolve everything now when we are told we will get the “right answers” later. Why are we not focusing on loving God and loving our neighbor as our self? What should be so simple as a mission has truly become a mess of interpretive mayhem. We offer a meaningless message to a world in need.

I for one am all for purity: purity of mission, purity of love, purity of participation in God’s mission, purity of being missional, purity of presence. In my view, to be pure (as Jesus was pure) is to focus our 400 on East-Africa, the loss of Lancaster jobs, and the real stuff of life. Some famous guy (was it Barth, Chambers, Bonhoeffer?) said “Purity of heart is to will one will.” If God’s one will is to love the world, how can we call ourselves pure and do anything else?

Thanks Jonathan and Harry for showing me more today than ever before what John meant when he said “For God so loved the world”!

It’s hard to be different. “Dork,” “geek,” and “loser” are the schoolyard terms meant to reign in those who are different. Clothes, gadgets, language, skin color, religion, sexuality all make it hard to be unique. Our culture gives lip service to being unique and authentic, but only tends to enforce sameness.

Swimming against the current

 

But it’s even harder to be hated as different. Take for instance the recent story of a Christian gay man receiving death threats from another attendee at a Christian denominational gathering. Can you imagine clinging to God in prayer through this scenario? This can’t be easy. Or imagine how you would feel as the minority religion in a country and told over and again you are not worthy, you are not loved, you need to leave, and you are hated for who you are. Given the comments on Young American Muslim’s blog, it’s clear many still love to hate those who are different.  

I’m fascinated by the spirituality of these people, people our culture calls ‘the damned.”And by all people who have been set aside: victims of abuse, rape, violence, oppression, wage theft, harrassment, etc…  How do they survive? How do the oppressed embrace “God loves you” when everyone screams “God hates you and so do I!”? How do they cultivate a spirituality of resistance and transformation? What sustains that fish while swimming against the flow? How does spirituality for the dominant differ from spirituality for the different?

I’m living into this question in three ways right now.

First, a growing awareness that Jesus was oppressed and ministered to the oppressed. Howard Thurman, speaking within the black church context, says in Jesus and the Disinherited,  “The basic fact is that Christianity as it was born in the mind of this Jewish teacher and thinker appears as a technique of survival for the oppressed.” This view is echoed everywhere Christians find themselves oppressed (such as in the birth of Latin American Liberation Theology). As someone who lives within dominant culture (white, male, educated, wealthy, Christian) this has been a deeply powerful new insight.

Second, a growing call to focus more of my own pastoral energies on marginalized communities. In an earlier post I talked about certain groups our world ostracizes, marginalizes, and demonizes, what I called The Community of the Damned. But I’ve not been equipped with a spirituality that can sustain minorities, the poor, victims of abuse, or those ostracized because of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation or religion. Like Bart Compolo says in his latest blog, “Being poor is hard work,” and I want to know and experience a spirituality that will sustain the lives of those who are poor.

Third, My own experience blogging as The Peace Pastor has reminded me again that my own faith tradition is clearly “different” and can make it hard for Anabaptists and Mennonites like myself to want to publicly proclaim the good news of Peace. Here’s some of what I’ve received for proclaiming a third way:

  • Helen says  ”you don’t deserve the privilege of living in this country.”
  • El Machete says, “you are a yellow bellied coward who hides behind his religion.”
  • Pdh42 says, “you (IMO) know nothing about the Bible with all of your communist social justice garbage that you preach.”
  • True believer called Christian pacifists “silly people” and my blog a “waste of space.”
  • Carpenter says that pursuing peace is “unrealistic and even dangerous.”

In other words, to be a Christian peacemaker makes one a dork, geek, and a loser. This experience has demanded a refurbished spirituality (one fellow blogger called it “thick skin”) that I am still growing into. Thankfully, I’m reminded Jesus’ original disciples didn’t get this overnight, so there’s still room for my growth. Core pieces of an oppressed spirituality seem to be fixation on the person and humanity of Jesus, belief in God’s abiding presence within us, deep longing prayer, genuine community, honesty about systems and power, an assertion that the world is not as it should be, and a vision of the world as God intends for it to be.

The vision for this blog is to proclaim the whole gospel of Jesus in a context which marginalizes Jesus, justice, and holistic faith. Dominant Christian culture (and its inertia/energy) doesn’t always energize the comprehensive vision of doing justice, loving neighbor, God and self; often it will oppose this voice. Thus the Christian’s pursuit of peace happens in the midst of pressure to narrow our voice. Likewise, dominant secular culture may be open to the quest for justice, but find our insistence on keeping Jesus at the center of our work and words baffling, if not stifling. For this reason, small intentional Christian communities are essential in developing people who can live the life of Jesus in our world. Likewise, introduction to a “missional” or just spirituality has also proved essential for overcoming my blocks to following Jesus and sustaining my call to live a life of just Christianity.  

If you are different, or oppressed, how has your spirituality sustained you? How have you witnessed spirituality give life to communities who are marginalized, victimized, or oppressed? What are the songs, texts, stories and rituals that energize marginalized communities to be faithful to God in a world that is not?

DEAR WORLD:

It’s understandable if you don’t think that we in the church understand you, “get you,” or even like you. After all, you see our Summit-sized buildings, soaring steeples, SUV filled parking lots scattered around our city while Christians lead the fight to eradicate social services that you need to live. With looming budget cuts for schools essential for your children’s wholeness and health, Texas’ Christians instead deemed as “emergencies” legislative agenda you perhaps thought was ridiculously off-task. I would understand if you didn’t think Christians didn’t like you if you are new to the area and came without papers, or if you were born with an “unnacceptable” sexual orientation; because many don’t like you.

As the world rages in turmoil & violence, struggles over limited resources and massive changes in weather patterns, unemployment and foreclosures, we in the church might appear not to notice. Take for instance what my fellow blogger Ken Chitwood points out in his blog this week: that some Christians have decided the core issue we need to catalyze our resources around and work diligently to pursue is whether or not heaven and hell exist. Important, sure. But perhaps, if we listened to you, we would hear this is not the most helpful use of our time.

For all this and more, ”We’re sorry.” We haven’t been there for you when you needed help in the messiness of life. You needed a ride to the doctor and we were splitting theological hairs. Your son is scared now that daddy is back from Iraq, lashing out in anger and fright at the slightest sound; and we needed to know who was right. Undocumented, you live in an immigrant community riddled with crime but don’t feel safe calling our police; and we’re concerned about how many chances you’ll get to “receive Jesus” after you die before our god sends you to hell. You’re living in hell as a victim of human trafficking held against your will and forced to perform unspeakable duties here in Houston, the nations slavery capital; but we wonder aloud if your hell will continue after you die.

I apologize. Please forgive us. This is not the way we are supposed to be. You see, our leader and namesake, Jesus Christ, would understand you if he were here. He would “get” that you are ostracized and feel bullied. He would know if the choices you’ve made, even if they are illegal or unethical at times, were the best thing you knew to do to put food on your kids table. He would understand how bad it feels to be passed by on the street and not noticed. He would totally understand you if you told him your religious leaders weren’t there for you.

And, he would like you. A lot. He wouldn’t waste your time with the afterlife when you are consumed with making it in this life. He talked a lot about love. Loving ourselves, loving our neighbors, and even loving our enemies. He’s pretty good at that. I’m sorry you don’t always experience us, his followers, in the same way. His vision of the world and we humans in it was that everyone would have enough: enough food, enough stuff, enough community and love. Perhaps if we were better at loving you like he asked, it would make more sense when we invite you to love God. Our most important book says that “God loved the world,” and I deeply hope you know God’s love whether you feel love from Jesus’ followers or not. 

If you need anything, let us know.

Sincerely,
A follower of Jesus

The following is a reflection on the Mennonite Church USA Convention theme and key verse (2 Corinthians 5:16-21):
I love my city. I love Houston’s ridiculously hubristic skyline, our underperforming sports teams, our gargantuan flyovers and 20-lane highways, our farmers markets, our bayous and museums, and our longing to be a “real” city.

I love our food. In my neighborhood alone you can find world class Thai, Polish, Mexican, Korean and Salvadoran food. I walk my family to a little Churro booth that holds its own against anything at Mennonite relief sales.

And I love our diversity. Houston’s four million people have no majority population and Houston is home to 325 different people groups. When our family first moved to Houston I remember going to the play-land at a local mall and counting no less than eight languages being spoken by the children there. 

Yes, moving to Houston has helped me to fall in love with diversity. But too often, rather than celebrating diversity, Christians allow it to divide and separate us. High profile cases of Christians judging others who are different (like the Florida pastor who burned a Koran; or the Kansas church known for protesting funerals) or who believe differently (the outrage among Christians towards pastor Rob Bell’s thoughts on hell) or who act differently (homosexuality) embarrass me by how far off the mark they are. Race, legal status, wealth, politics, and faith divide us.

But reconciliation is at the heart of the gospel.

In word and lifestyle Jesus draws his community together, breaking down the boundaries that divide. Drawing on Isaiah’s vision of the peaceable kingdom (11:6-9 & 65:25), he calls his followers to be makers of peace (Matthew 5:9) rather than judgment and discord (Matthew 7:1), and gives us specific instructions on how to pull it off (Matthew 18:15-20). Leave your worship behind, he says, and go be reconciled to your neighbor – it’s that important (Matthew 5:16-26). It’s also controversial enough he’s almost killed (Luke 4:24-30) just for mentioning the possibility of reconciliation with an outsider.

So how have Jesus’ followers done in emulating his example? The first generation of believers did smashingly well! Paul in particular sees reconciliation at the center of the Christian life, declaring we have been “given the ministry of reconciliation… So we are ambassadors for Christ (2 Corinthians 5:18,20).”

Likewise, the next generation embraced this ministry of reconciliation. One late second century pastor said Christians “Love all men, and by all men are persecuted… They are reviled, and yet they bless; when they are affronted, they still pay due respect (section 5 of The Epistle to Diognetus).” They were clearly working for the good of all by valuing relationships more than being “right.”

But what about Jesus’ followers today? Is this, my Mennonite friends, how we are known? Are we the glue that binds, or the scissors that divide?

We as Mennonites and as Mennonite churches have a marvelous opportunity to regain that reputation for being reconcilers committed to the dignity and respect of all persons and cultures. Peace, reconciliation, conflict transformation is in our blood. Jesus is our DNA.

As ambassadors of reconciliation (racial, religious, political, economic), our call is very different from civil ambassadors, who work to impose the will of the dominant party on fringe groups. No, our call is the reconciliation of all groups to each other and to God. It is to share one story, one identity in the midst of diversity. Our call is to love, and to empower others to do likewise.

How is God calling you to build relationship in your neighborhood or workplace? As an ambassador for reconciliation, what resources do you need to love, overcome barriers, and stand with those different than yourself? Is there someone in particular that you need to be reconciled to today? Wouldn’t it be great if we Christians were known not for our exclusivity, but for our ability to “love the stranger as you love yourself”?

To all members in our denomination of beautiful multicultural diversity: “Be ambassadors for reconciliation.” Perhaps our political leaders don’t believe in diversity of cultures, but our God does. Love your city, your neighbor, your co-worker, your enemy and everyone you meet. If you do, you’ll be “the justice of God (2 Corinthians 5:21)”!

There is no dispute about God’s imperatives regarding the workplace. Human dignity in the workplace is an essential belief in the Abrahamic traditions. Indeed, over and again we find Godself at work: at work in creation, at work in redemption, at work in the lives of God’s people. So its clear when Pharaoh exploits and hu­miliates the Israelites how completely counter to God’s intentions this is. As was Solomon’s terrible treatment of the kingdom workers building temple, palace, and empire for a man who practiced forced labor and systematic theft of wages. So bad was Solomon’s treatment of the worker that God himself was forced to intervene, ripping the kingdom from the hands of Solomon’s descendants.

The record is not kind to Solomon,  “King Solomon conscripted forced labor our of all Israel, the levy numbered 30,000 men…. (1 Kings 5:13-15).”  In chapter 12 we see the kingdom divided over this precise point: economic injustice, labor rights, fair treatment of the worker, wage theft. How have we missed this story for so long?

Nehemiah too tells the important story of how God’s people pushback against economic injustice. You remember the story: coming out of exile God’s people begin the long, hard work of rebuilding Jerusalem’s walls and city. The upper class begins to steal the vineyards and fields of the people, the currency of the day. But Nehemiah, God’s ordained faith leader, said “We are forcing our sons and daughters to be slaves,… we are powerless, and our fields and vineyards now belong to others…The thing you are doing is not good (Nehemiah 5:5,9).”

No! This thing you are doing, stealing wages, oppressing the poor, forcing labor; “is not good.” Indeed! Throughout the scriptures of the Abrahamic traditions you find that the beating heart of God is justice. The liturgies of the ancients are filled with the reframe “justice and righteousness,” justice and righteousness make their way into history, prophets, writings, commentaries and sermons. God, says the prophet, “loves justice (Isaiah 61:8).”

From “Do not steal” (Exodus 20:15) to “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors (Matthew 6),” support for the worker is clear.

  • Jeremiah 22:13 “Woe to him who builds his house by unrighteousness, and his upper rooms by injustice; who makes his neighbours work for nothing, and does not give them their wages.”
  • Deuteronomy 24:1-5 You shall not withhold the wages of poor and needy labourers, whether other Israelites or aliens who reside in your land in one of your towns. You shall pay them their wages daily before sunset, because they are poor and their livelihood depends on them; otherwise they might cry to the Lord against you, and you would incur guilt.”

When the Abrahamic traditions define the ideal Person, the person we are all to strive to be, they introduce us to the character Job, who is in the incarnation of justice. Listen in to Job 29:11-17

I delivered the poor who cried,
   and the orphan who had no helper.
13 The blessing of the wretched came upon me,
   and I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy.
14 I put on righteousness, and it clothed me;
   my justice was like a robe and a turban.
15 I was eyes to the blind,
   and feet to the lame.
16 I was a father to the needy,
   and I championed the cause of the stranger.
17 I broke the fangs of the unrighteous,
   and made them drop their prey from their teeth.

According to Eugene Peterson, we find the dignity of work throughout the NT story as well. “Jesus occasionally shows up in synagogue or temple, but for the most part he spends time in the workplace. 27 times in the gospel of John Jesus is identified as a worker. ‘My Father is still working, and I am also working (John 5:17). Work doesn’t take us away from God, it continues the work of God.”

In his greatest sermon Jesus mentions justice 6 times. Jesus tells us we’re blessed if we hunger for it & blessed to be hated for it. He tells us to strive for it more than anything else in our life and cautioned to have more than the religious leaders of his day who tithe but neglect the weightier matters of justice.

Seems pretty important to the guy we call “Lord.” In a blog earlier this week called “My wages are being stolen,” commenters accused me of being a communist, having never read my Bible, advocating for the overthrow of Texas industry, and hating Jesus. Why? Because I talked about pursuing justice. But if Jesus loved it, shouldn’t I?

The work of justice is long, but exciting. That’s why I’m here, to ask you to join the cause, and to equip you for the work of justice. It requires bravery and courage, an understanding of the issues and a willingness to be public. But the most essential element is much simpler than that. The work of justice ultimately demands only one thing from you: that you believe God.

The day Jesus said to his followers “You are the light of the world” I think he was filled with wild hope. This was early in his ministry, before we really catch a glimpse of his followers incompetance. It was before Peter mistakenly tries to keep Jesus safe and Jesus  rebukes him saying “get behind me Satan!” It was before several of them asked for power positions and he responded by saying “If you want to be great be a servant.” And it was before Judas betrays him, Peter denies him three times, and all but one disciple run for the hills rather than be tagged as an associate of someone convicted of treason.

The City on the Hill

And yet the statement is as plan as day, “You are the light.” As Bonhoeffer points out in The Cost of Discipleship, it’s not that we have the light as a possession to pass on, the gospel as a content reduced to 4 Spiritual Laws which can be exchanged like a product. No, we in our ontological being are part of the light. And it’s not as if we can choose the light, we simply are to be gospel light to the world. 

Why then is my life a testimony to how frequently there is a gap between desire and reality in my living? I find myself resonating with Paul in Romans 7:15 when he says, ”I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” Jesus points this out as well, acknowledging the presence not just of light, but of “bushel baskets” which block us from being true followers of Jesus. I know what’s right, but so often prefer the basket to the light!

Here are the Top Ten Bushel Baskets that keep me as a Mennonite from following Jesus.

10. Oh, this old thing? No one would want it anyway. We Mennonites have a strange concept of humility that has kept us quiet for centuries. But is there anything to be humble about if you are not first excellent?

9. Mission? Isn’t that somebody else’s job?
Little is more destructive to following Jesus than classifying some as “full time Christian ministry” and others as “just laity.”

8. I worship God. That’s enough, isn’t it?
No, worship is not enough. A person is an integrated being. For many in the modern world, spirituality DIS-integrated reality. Spirit over there, life and blood and sweat and work and money and skin and trees and lakes and music and tacos over there. Jesus was very holistic in including life, economics, politics and “religion” all together in his understanding of faith.

7. It’s all about the money.
Whether we have money or don’t have money, the imbalanced focus on ’charity’ insulates us from genuinely connecting to people missionally.

6. Let’s pack it up and ship it overseas.
Christendom has formed this impression in us that the mission field is “out there” and that ours is a Christian culture. Following Jesus is always local.

5. We love tradition! And nothing is as old fashioned as selfishness.
The phrase “focus on the family” sums up pretty well my personal favorite variety of selfishness.

4. But isn’t it rude to assume I have something they need?
Religious intolerance is indeed something to fear as western Christians have a bad history of cultural imperialism. But this does not mean that everyone you meet is whole, complete, or at peace.

3. I’m tired of sticking out like a sore thumb!
From our beginning Mennonites (and other groups) have been on the fringe. Read the comments in this previous post and you’ll understand why shining the light of peace might get tiring for some.

2. I’m afraid.
I’m afraid of failure, dissapointment, loss. As Gary Haugen has said, we’re afraid because we don’t know the path or the cost, and there’s no guarentee of success. But more than any other command, Jesus says “Do not be afraid.”

1. We’ve got to take care of ourselves first!
Rick Warren addressed this in The Purpose Driven Life with his opening words, “It’s not about you.” We are Stewards of Grace, blessed by God to bless others. Following Jesus in loving others is and must be at the core of our conception of being Christian. 

For me, doing the difficult work of naming my baskets (ie deconstructing Christianity) has been essential to becoming the light (following Jesus). May it be so for you! What are the bushel baskets in your own faith tradition that block you from following Jesus?

Marty Troyer practices removing his and others baskets as pastor of Houston Mennonite Church. You can join us anytime in Spring Branch or visit us online at houstonmennonite.org. Follow Marty by subscribing below or on Twitter.

This refrain is being heard every day in every corner of our city. Wage theft in Houston is exactly what it sounds like: the stealing of money from someone who has rightfully earned it. And Houstonians are notoriously creative in their ability to steal from their employees.

Take the story of Oscar, for instance. I met Oscar last Thursday at a speakers training event for faith leaders on the topic of wage theft. Oscar worked hard as a construction worker for a local company. As construction workers, he and his fellow employees work in some of the most dangerous conditions of all area employees. Texas has few laws regulating safety for construction workers, has no mandatory drink breaks, and is the only state without mandatory workers compensation. Perhaps this is why we lead the nation in deaths among construction workers, witnessing a worker death ever 2.5 days. So it might come as a shock to hear that after working several weeks in this job, his employer began demanding overtime work but refused to provide overtime pay. As time went on, Oscar’s wages began to fall, and finally dropped below minimum wage. Not paying overtime and paying less than minimum wage (both completely illegal) are two excellent ways to steal wages, if you’re in to that kind of thing. Misclassifying workers as “independent contractors,” or taking inappropriate deductions are two more creative ways Houston’s employers steal wages.

Today Oscar is owed $3,500, or half of what he earned, wages stolen from him by his employer. His employer has not shown up in court to give Oscar his due. Oscar, a low-wage worker, is forced to make a tough decision when his wages are stolen. Do you invest substantial time and money (that you’ve earned but not received) in recovering your stolen wages, or do you cut your losses and find another job? Oscar chose to advocate for what he and others have earned with help from the Houston Interfaith Worker Justice Center.

When I first moved to Houston after Hurricane Ike, I didn’t know the widespread systemic nature of wage theft in American cities. In fact, I’m not sure I’d ever even heard the phrase “wage theft” at all. Labor unions, workers rights, strikes: these were as foreign to me as the top ten ways people actually steal wages. I certainly had no concept that what the citizens of Wisconsin and Michigan and other states are fighting for today is what Texas has already taken from its workers!

But I knew the heart of God beats for justice and that economic justice is a central tenant of the world God is working to create (read more here). And then I began to hear the stories of individuals like Oscar’s whose lives have been wasted by the theft of their rightfully earned wages. And after hearing the stories of individuals, I began to awaken to the truth of the 2010 Wage Theft Report written by Christine Kovic, “Rather than a few bad apples – or employers who do not follow labor laws – the barrel itself is rotten.” It’s not isolated to individuals, its of the nature of the system itself!”

The more I learned, the more I support the threefold approach to combating wage theft found in 2010’s Wage Theft Report and in Kim Bobo’s book Wage Theft in America.

  • Support for unions
  • Advocacy for change of labor laws and enforcement.
  • Direct Action as citizens, which consists of visits, delegations, vigils, and protests.
Houston Faith Leaders on Wage Theft Delegation

 

 There is a place, a powerful place, for faith communities and faith leaders in the fight against injustice. I’ve been involved in direct action and seen employers bend in the presence of faith-filled morality. I’ve watched workers whose wages have been stolen recover not just money rightfully earned, but dignity and community. I’ve sat in downtown high rises and church libraries discussing Biblical justice with company CEO’s and employers who make multi-million dollar salaries. Why? Because ultimately, according to our book, its our job, our call, our demand that people are provided justice. It’s ultimately not the states, or the unions primarily responsible to confront economic injustice or promote fair and living wages: its our job. Wage theft will never cease to be a problem for our workers until the faith community rises up to speak, and act.

If you or someone you know has had or suspects you have had wages stolen, please contact Houston Interfaith Worker Justice Center (713.862.8222). They can and will help! If you are interested in learning more about wage theft, standing in solidarity with people like Oscar, advocating for living wages or safe working conditions, or going on a delegation, contact Laura Boston at HIWJ: lboston@hiwj.org.

Also published on Marty’sHouston Chronicle blog, The Peace Pastor, at blog.chron.com/thepeacepastor.  Follow Marty on Twitter.

My friendly denominational magazine recently quoted the following from the New York Times.

  • United States spends nearly as much on military power as every other country in the world combined, including more than six times as much as China, the next highest.
  • The United States maintains troops at more than 560 bases and other sites abroad, many of them a legacy of a world war that ended 65 years ago.
  • The intelligence community is so vast that more people have “top secret” clearance than live in Washington, D.C.
  • The United States will spend more on the war in Afghanistan this year, adjusting for inflation, than we spent on the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Mexican-American War, the Civil War and the Spanish-American War combined.

That seems like a lot of money to me. The pie chart to the left reveals a whopping 54% of our national budget goes towards military spending.

News Reports suggest that our involvement in Libya is set to exceed the $750 million estimate by the Pentagon, a statistic not likely to help our blossoming national debt.

Of course it’s a lot of money. But perhaps we’ve decided as a community it’s necessary for our salvation.

Competing Gospels
But where does our salvation really come from? There’s a great worship song by Crystal Lewis sung in many of our local churches which says:

Salvation belongs to our God
who sits upon the throne
and unto the lamb
be praise and glory, wisdom and thanks
honor, and power, and strength
be to our God forever and ever

These lyrics – a direct quote from Revelation 7:10 & 12 – are hard to argue with: salvation belongs to God. But in the historical context of Roman empire that these words were first penned, its not saying God and not Vishnu, Jesus not Allah is God. No, they’re a powerful and dangerous political statement: God, and not Caesar who promises pax Romana, is source of salvation.

This apparently is not a sideshow for the early church, but a central spiritual and linguistic premise. Jesus, Paul, and John all borrow explicitly political, explicitly Roman cultural-linguistic concepts to communicate the faith. Words like “gospel,” “kingdom,” ”son of God,” “peace,” “Lord,” and even salvation are borrowed directly from Roman political culture to establish what NT Wright calls “a parady of the imperial cult.” 

Take for instance the word “gospel,” a key concept in Christian theology and identity. Jesus and the early church had a wide range of words to choose from to sum up the message. Out of that linguistic soup they chose the “secular” greek word “euangelion,” a strictly imperial word referring narrowly to imperial news, usually pertaining to news from the front lines of battle. Why choose this secular word to describe Jesus message? Precisely because it sets up a choice of competing gospels to choose from: Caesar’s empire, or Jesus’ kingdom. Paul makes his choice clear, proclaiming for those in the imperial capital to hear: ”I am not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ.” He bookends his letter to Rome with an equally dangerous counter-claim to Caesar that “all” people will praise Jesus and not Caesar.

It’s into this context of competing gospels that John assigns salvation to God, and not the “shock and awe” military might of pax Romana. The nature of each gospel and the character of each kingdom is radically different. Revelation portrays Caesar’s empire as a beast gobbling up innocents; but Jesus is portrayed not as a mighty warrior, but as the slain Lamb. Richard B. Hays writes in The Moral Vision of the New Testament, “A work that places the Lamb that was slaughtered at the center of its praise and worship can hardly be used to validate violence and coercion (pg. 330).”

Military Spending in Context
As I write this I’m sitting in the safety of the most overwelming military muscle the world has ever prioritized paying for. Direct parallels to Rome’s pax Romana are striking. I’m also sitting in the presence of the slain now-risen Lamb, celebrated weekly in churches on every Houston corner through the breaking and pouring of bread and wine. So I’m forced to ask, to whom belongs our salvation? Do the absurdity of these budgetary numbers supply the answer? 

The gospels of Caesar and Jesus continue to recruit followers to this day, inviting us to repent, for their kingdom is near at hand. Can we afford to choose any differently than John and Paul?

 Sing it with me church! You know the words:

Salvation belongs to our God…
We the redeemed shall be strong
in purpose and unity
declaring aloud
be praise and glory, wisdom and thanks
honor, and power, and strength!
Be to our God forever and ever
AMEN.

This post co-published at Marty’s Houston Chronicle blog called The Peace Pastor.  
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What do you do when faith and patriotism collide? Are there limits to patriotism for the Christian? If so, what are they? If not, how is that in line with the first commandment? Can you be a Christian and, say, not sing the national anthem? Or, as a Christian, is there ever a time when civil disobedience is a necessary response to the injustice in the world?

Christians are called to live in the tension of being citizens of two kingdoms. We are to be both aliens and citizens. As Christians, we are to have no other God besides God. So what do you do when your country’s policies or anthem is contradictory to your understanding of faith?

Two religious news stories this week may help us each discern the shape of our highest calling to God above state.

“No” to the National Anthem
A Christian College in Indiana this week changed its mind after a year-long experiment in playing the national anthem,  declaring it will no longer do so. Throughout its history, Goshen College never had the anthem played on campus until early spring 2010 because it contradicts core facets of the college’s Christian identity. Instead, college President James Brenneman will now “find an alternative … that fits with sports tradition, that honors country and that resonates with Goshen College’s core values and respects the views of diverse constituencies.” Surprise surprise, not everyone thinks too fondly of this decision. Goshen City Councilman Harland Lantz told Fox News Radio that the decision is “anti-American.” “It really hurts,” he said. “(The national anthem) is the American way…Instead of living here in Goshen, they should go down and live in Cuba or Iran. Then have them come back and see if their attitude has changed.”

As someone who stopped saying the pledge of allegiance the day after my country fired hundreds of missiles into Baghdad 20 years ago this August, I applaud the college’s reversal. The National Anthem with its violent battle imagery, and the Pledge which demands allegiance to something other than my King and Christ’s kingdom, are inappropriate expressions for me as a follower of Jesus.

What do you think? Is Goshen College able to be both Christian and patriotic? Or does Councilman Lantz speak for you in inviting all like-minded folks to take a hike? And if so, isn’t one thing that makes the US great our freedom to be critical of it?

Civil Disobedience
A second story is also helpful in finding the line between faith and patriotism. In North Carolina this week 2 Christians were arrested for protesting state policies that were, from their perspective, contrary to the Christian faith.  Mike Morrell tells the story of 2 Christians arrested in North Carolina for shoutin’ down the legislature with scripture. William Barber and David Lamotte were each arrested for their civil disobediance. As the Raleigh News & Observer reported:

The Rev. William Barber, president of the North Carolina branch of the NAACP, was removed from today’s session of the N.C. House this afternoon by police officers after he and others shouted at legislators from the gallery.

Barber and the six other protesters were placed in handcuffs after they chanted, “Do Justice, Love Mercy, Walk Humbly With God.” The words are from a Bible verse, Micah 6:8.

They also chanted, “Fund education, not incarceration,” and “Save our children, don’t cut education.”

Also arrested was  a  singer/songwriter named David LaMotte. In his blog, Morrell quotes  David LaMotte, as saying:

The current legislature is making a host of decisions which are contrary to the teachings of Christianity, and I feel called to resist those actions with my very body…What is right and what is legal sometimes come into conflict, and when they do, our allegiance to God’s teaching should be stronger than our allegiance to the state.

What do you think? What would cause you to express your faith through civil disobedience? Is there enough congruity between “the American way” and your faith that you can’t imagine ever engaging in civil disobedience? Or do you see gaps between the two that beg for demonstration? I for one have never been a part of a community that has formed a courage within me to engage in this level of faith expression. Nor have I surrounded myself with mentors to teach me. But I do know that Jesus longs to be first. Above state. Above culture. Even above my favorite thing in the entire world: myself. This does not make me or anyone else unpatriotic in the least! It means we’re committed to human flourishing on either side of the border, seeking the welfare of this and every nation through acts of love and sacrifice. And I hope, with all my heart, that my love of the good news of Jesus is strong enough that when I see injustice and evil in our world I respond appropriately. May it be so for us all!

Also posted at Marty’s The Peace Pastor blog at blog.chron.com/thepeacepastor where you can follow the discussion.

In my last blog post for the Chronicle – Your thoughts on Israel-Palestine? – I asked you to share not what you believe, but why you believe what you believe. Your answers are as diverse as anticipated, ranging from scripture to history to politics to personal experience. For those who answered, Scripture played a heavy roll. But you most certainly did NOT use the same texts or core arguments. Indeed, what I said in the blog is clearly true of us, “There are, if its not obvious, different ways of looking at the past and the future of Israel and Palestine…Well meaning and committed Christians differ radically on what our faith suggests we should do.” Responders based their reasons in at least 5 very different Biblical principles:

  1. God’s ancient promises to “The Chosen People” are clear, literal, and final.
  2. God’s future promises regarding the End Times (particularly Armageddon) condemn non-Jewish nations and exalt Israel.
  3. The Ethics of Jesus life and teachings call into question the use of force and imbalance of power between these two people groups, and demand a response of nonviolent love.
  4. Justice as equal and right treatment of all peoples. Justice demands fairness, equitable distribution, and the righting of social wrongs (such as power imbalance).
  5. The Bible calls us to a new people-hood irrespective of national borders, centered on Christ. The point is not to “choose sides” but to seek total reconciliation.

As Jill Carroll asks in her excellent blog this week called My Bible Your Bible, “Are they reading the same Bible?”

She points out contradictions within the Bible, complicating quick easy answers to problems as complex as this. We see what she means (“that the Bible is not a completely harmonious text”) in the answers provided by my great readers. All of which are valid arguments, rooted in the text we claim to share, and tethered to a tradition much deeper than the individuals who posted them.

So what do you do when the Bible contradicts itself? Is Carroll right, we have no choice but to “highlight those [texts] we agree with, beat our enemies over the head with them, and claim that God is exclusively on our side”? Perhaps. But another option, rather than throwing the Bible out altogether as she seems to suggest (Bible is “highly problematic” and of little use in political discussions.), is to have a conversation on the validity of how we read our Bibles. Is one way of reading (what is called “hermeneutics”) better and/or more faithful than another?

This question raises a host of other questions, especially for a guy like me who sees peace as central to my faith, placing me on the fringes of Christendom. In one way or another, each option above has answered these questions from Bible professor Marion Bontrager, Hesston College:

  • What is the relationship between the two Christian testaments? Is there both unity and disunity between them, with Jesus and the New Testament superseding the Old Testament? Or are they “flat,” with God having two wills at the same time, one for personal and one for corporate ethics (and therefore no contradictions like Carroll outlines)?
  • Is Jesus the norm for Christian social ethics or is his life largely irrelevant because he came for a “higher” purpose?
  • How did the early church do their social ethics? Do Jesus and Paul agree? Were the church’s and Paul’s ethics from Jesus; or did they borrow from reason and society given they didn’t see Jesus teaching social ethics at all?

As much as I appreciated Carroll fleshing out Biblical contradictions, I’m not sure I agree that the Bible is “highly problematic” and of little use in political discussions. Let’s take only the first question above and see what clarity comes. Jesus clearly claims in his most well known sermon that he came to “fulfill” the law; then uses the formula “You have heard that it was said…But I say…” six times to reveal what that means. Clearly, Jesus sets himself above the Hebrew Scriptures. Paul seemingly does likewise, “For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ.” Jesus towards Emmaus, and the sermons of Acts teach Jesus is the key to history and scripture.

There’s no space to address further questions, but with just one answer I’ve found a path illuminated through the murky contradictions that are the Word of God. The Bible itself seems to answer Carroll’s conundrum for us by pointing to an interpretive key: Jesus. If this is so, the scales of Christian decision should be weighted more by what Jesus said and did than by ancient or future prophecy, some of which is obscure anyway.

Jesus, who doesn’t rid us of the law, but fulfills God’s passion for justice, right relationship, and peace has recruited me to a life of breaking down the barriers of hate and injustice, which are present on both sides. The use of violence is clearly evident throughout this conflict, but the abuse of power rests largely with Israel. Jesus should never be used (as one of my commenters did) to implicate Jews with Jesus death; nor however should anyone be free to commit atrocity because they are “chosen.” Racism, hatred, violence and genocide should be confronted from any and all directions. Of the options my readers supplied, I find my home in #’s 3,4,5. Why? Because I believe they most authentically (and Biblically) address the contradictions of scripture in a way helpful to the cause at hand: Israel-Palestine. But also because, in choosing to base my ethics on Jesus, I won’t be beating my enemies anytime soon.

Also posted at Marty’s The Peace Pastor blog at: blog.chron.com/thepeacepastor where you can follow the discussion.

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