Last week, I wrote a column about what matters in life, what fills a life with wholeness and goodness. I quoted at length a piece written by Michael Josephson, the founder of the Josephson Institute of Ethics. Josephson is a passionate advocate for what he calls “character education” for youth, as well as a champion of ethical conduct in every sphere of life, including business, politics, government, policing, journalism, sports, healthcare and law.
He has developed a helpful way of describing character by using what he calls the “Six Pillars of Character”. These six pillars represent six core ethical values.
But before getting into the pillars themselves, it is worth asking, “What exactly is ethics?” It’s one of those words we hear, and it’s often confused with values.
Ethics refers to universal principles which define behaviour as right, good and proper. The important thing is that these principals are understood to be universal. Values, on the other hand, tend to be more personal, and often defined by a set of religious beliefs or cultural practices or family background. For example, the desire to be healthy and wealthy are important values for some, but they are not ethical principles. One of the key things about ethics is their universality. There is a consensus about what makes for ethical living.
At the same time, there is nothing magical about the number six. There could be eight or ten. But these Six Pillars of Character provide an easy way of remembering what makes for a life of character. They help us evaluate our behavior and become more consistent in how we act.
The acronym for the Six Pillars is TRRFCC—which some have called “terrific”. As I describe these Six Pillars, much of the language comes from the Josephson Institute website.
Pillar #1: Trustworthiness. Be honest. Don’t deceive, cheat, or steal. Be reliable, which means doing what we say we’ll do Have the courage to do the right thing Build a good reputation Be loyal — stand by your family, friends, and colleagues.
Trustworthiness includes qualities like honesty, integrity, reliability and loyalty. Our words and our actions are congruent, consistent. We don’t say one thing and do another. When we live with integrity, we are whole and complete. We act according to our convictions, and we don’t settle for what is simply expedient in the moment.
When other people trust us, they tend to give us the benefit of the doubt. They are assured that they don’t need to monitor us to make sure that we will live with integrity and honesty. They believe us and hold us in higher esteem.
Pillar #2: Respect. Respect other people. Follow the Golden Rule, which is to treat others as we wish to be treated. Accept and honour differences. Be considerate of the feelings of others. Deal peacefully with insults, anger and disagreements.
People deserve to be treated with respect. When we do so, we don’t exploit, humiliate, or manipulate other people. We don’t call them names when we disagree with them. We act civilly, decently, and courteously.
This pillar has become a casualty in much of social media. People are anonymous, and they think this gives them the right to be rude and obnoxious. When they act this way, they show their lack of character. We need to emphasize this facet of character more these days.
Pillar #3: Responsibility. Do what you are supposed to do. Always do your best. Persevere and keep on trying. Use self–control. Be self–disciplined. Think before you act and consider the consequences of your actions.
Life is filled with choices. Responsible people are accountable for the choices we make. We recognize that our actions matter, and so we exercise self–restraint and self–discipline.
Pillar #4: Fairness. Play by the rules. Take turns. Share. Be open–minded. Listen to others. Treat all people fairly, regardless of their age, wealth, sexual orientation, or the colour of their skin. Don’t be prejudiced. Don’t show favouritism.
Fairness is hard to define sometimes, but at its heart it is about being consistent in how we treat people and making sure that everyone gets a fair hearing. The difficulty comes when we disagree with someone—we naturally think that our own position is the most fair. But this ethical principal means that we hold ourselves accountable to treat other people’s opinions with respect and honour. (Here we see how the different pillars work together in an ethical life!)
Pillar #5: Caring. Be kind. Be compassionate. Express gratitude. Forgive other people. Help people in need.
If we lived alone in the universe, we wouldn’t need any of these ethical principles. But we don’t, and caring is at the heart of the Six Pillars. We are concerned with the welfare of other people, because an ethical life is ultimately about establishing and maintaining good relationships with other people.
Sometimes it is easier to love “humanity” than to love individual people. As Lucy says in the comic strip Peanuts, “I love humanity—it’s people I can’t stand!” But we can’t live that way. We live with people, and we need to care for and about each other.
Pillar #6: Citizenship. Do your share to make your community better. Cooperate. Get involved. Stay informed. Vote. Be a good neighbour. Obey laws and rules. Protect the environment. Volunteer.
We all live in different kinds of communities. We live in a country, a province, a city, a neighbourhood. Our lives are intertwined with the lives of others. As people of character, we get involved with the different communities of which we are a part, and try to make life better for others in that community. What we do will affect others.
Someone once said that character is how you live when no one is looking. These Six Pillars of Character help us live in a way that is of benefit to the world. We need to do that, because as Michael Josephson is fond of saying, “Character Counts!”
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
The last couple of weeks, I’ve been writing about what makes life good, rich, healthy, and whole. I quoted Jean Vanier’s reflections about relationship making life worthwhile. Last week, I quoted Saint Teresa of Calcutta and Kent Keith. This week, I’d like to share with you something written by Michael Josephson in 2003.
Josephson is the founder of the Josephson Institute of Ethics. He is a passionate advocate for what he calls “character education” for youth, as well as a champion of ethical conduct in every sphere of life, including business, politics, government, policing, journalism, sports, healthcare and law.
Josephson calls this reflection “What Will Matter”. He points to what makes life worth living.
“Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
“There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours, or days.
“All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.
“Your wealth, fame, and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
“It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
“Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear.
“So, too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will expire.
“The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.
“It won’t matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.
“It won’t matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
“Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.
“So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?
“What will matter is not what you bought but what you built; not what you got but what you gave.
“What will matter is not your success but your significance.
“What will matter is not what you learned but what you taught.
“What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage, or sacrifice that enriched, empowered, or encouraged others to emulate your example.
“What will matter is not your competence but your character.
“What will matter is not how many people you knew but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone.
“What will matter is not your memories but the memories of those who loved you.
“What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom, and for what.
“Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident.
“It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice.
“Choose to live a life that matters.”
I think Josephson gets to the heart of what fills a life with value. So often, we value the wrong things. If I only get a bigger this, or a more powerful that, or a more splashy something else, or a larger whatever, or a fancy thingamajig. It is so easy for us to fill our lives up with stuff. We think that something new will add value to our lives, but it doesn’t and the shine wears off the new thing very quickly indeed.
Instead, life is filled with grace as we make different choices. To love. To help. To be involved in meaningful relationships. To give. To share. To show compassion. When we make those kinds of choices, our lives become grace–full.
There’s a common saying that no one ever faces death wishing she had spent more time at work. Let me paraphrase that sentiment: At the end of life, no one will say “I wish I had gotten a larger screen TV” or “I wish I had a more powerful computer” or “I wish I had lived in a tonier neighbourhood”.
When we choose to be loving, generous, kind, and compassionate, those are the choices that will shape our lives and the kind of legacy we will leave behind. Those choices will determine the value of the lives we live.
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
Last week, I wrote about a reflection by Jean Vanier about what makes life worth living. His deep focus was on the power of relationship to make life whole and good for all. Specifically, his focus was on two questions: “Do you love me? Do you love me as I am?”
I was moved by the short video in which he spoke simply, eloquently, deeply about the power of love to make life good and rich.
It reminded me of some words Mother Teresa wrote on the wall of her home for children in Calcutta. You may remember that she was made a saint, and she is now referred to as Saint Teresa of Calcutta.
“People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
“If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
“If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.
“If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.
“What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.
“If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
“The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.
“Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.
“In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
Those words mesh nicely with the wisdom of Vanier’s reflections. Saint Teresa’s words reflect the potential of relationship as we live our lives with integrity and grace.
I decided to do a little bit of research, and I discovered that a “secular” version was written by Kent Keith, a 19–year–old sophomore at Harvard College in 1968. (You need to know that I don’t normally separate life into secular and sacred—I believe Truth is One, but sometimes it’s helpful to categorize things in this way.) In his booklet for high school student leaders, Keith developed a list of what he called “The Paradoxical Commandments”:
- People are illogical, unreasonable, and self–centered. Love them anyway.
- If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives. Do good anyway.
- If you are successful, you win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.
- The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
- Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable. Be honest and frank anyway.
- The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds. Think big anyway.
- People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs. Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
- What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.
- People really need help but may attack you if you do help them. Help people anyway.
- Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway.As with Vanier, these are words to live by. They help us reach beyond ourselves so that we become enmeshed in a community in which we seek the welfare of all.
In the turbulent 1960’s, Keith wrote, “I saw a lot of idealistic young people go out into the world to do what they thought was right, and good, and true, only to come back a short time later, discouraged, or embittered, because they got negative feedback, or nobody appreciated them, or they failed to get the results they had hoped for.” I told them that if they were going to change the world, they had to really love people, and if they did, that love would sustain them. I also told them that they couldn’t be in it for fame or glory. I said that if they did what was right and good and true, they would find meaning and satisfaction, and that meaning and satisfaction would be enough. If they had the meaning, they didn’t need the glory.”
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
Someone recently sent me a beautiful video of Jean Vanier reflecting about what is important in making life more human. Now 90 years old, Vanier has a lifetime’s worth of wisdom as he reflects about the value of human life.
If you don’t know Jean Vanier, he’s the son of former Governor General Georges Vanier, a Rhodes scholar, and an accomplished philosopher. Vanier is best known for founding “L’Arche” in 1964. As he became aware of the plight of thousands of people who were institutionalized because of developmental disabilities, he decided that he would invite two men to leave their institution and live with him. That became the foundation of L’Arche, a community in which people with disabilities lived with those who cared for them.
Since then, L’Arche communities have been established in countries around the world. A governing philosophy of the communities is Vanier’s belief that people with disabilities are teachers, rather than burdens bestowed upon families.
In this 3½ –minute long video, Vanier reflects on what makes life meaningful:
“We’re in a culture where power and beauty and capacity have value, and so those who are less capable or apparently have less gifts should be got rid of. This is part of a culture of force, of individual success, with each one going up the ladder as high as they can go and promotion and money and all this sort of stuff. It’s got all mucked up, because it’s a culture which says that I have to be more powerful than my neighbour, and being more powerful than my neighbour, I don’t learn to share with them, I learn to be above them.
“The secular world is a world where we’re in danger of forgetting the “we”, that we’re part of a family. And so the question will always be how to lose power.
“Spirituality is about getting close to people who have been rejected. It’s breaking down the wall which separates the rich and the poor.
“But there’s something else. It’s a meeting. And a meeting implies that I’m not better than you, and you’re not better than me. We’re all just children of God.
“It’s that movement of going down, of not believing in power and in promotion. When somebody meets me in the depth of my being, where I don’t have to pretend that I’m better than others, there’s a liberation. A liberation to be myself.
“There’s only one thing that really matters. Relationship. Do you love me? Do you love me as I am? And so that is a place of revelation. Somewhere we discover that we can meet without any ladders. I receive your gift, you receive my gift.
“There’s something that happens, a moment of communion, a moment of joy. And that’s where fundamentally joy is. When we meet people, not above them, not below them but as children of God, together.”
There is deep wisdom in this reflection. When we remember the “we”, we recognize again that we are bound together in our common humanity. All around us, we are encouraged to forget this as we are urged to focus on the “me”.
It reminds me of Marcus Borg’s way of describing the world we live in as marked by the 3 A’s: Appearance, Achievement, Affluence. Everything in our society seduces us into thinking that we have to look good, that we have to produce and consume, and that we have to stockpile wealth for ourselves.
But notice that each of those 3 A’s focus on “me”. How good do I look? How much have I achieved? How much can I gain and save and hold and hoard?
Now I’m not saying that any of those 3 A’s are completely unimportant. Of course not. But neither do they make life worth living. They are peripheral things. They are less important matters.
As Vanier says, the value of life is found in relationship. Life is about how we connect with each other. Life is made rich and whole as we embrace one another in love and grace. Life is made healthy as we care for one another.
“Do you love me? Do you love me as I am?” Can you love me if I am different than you? If I am liberal while you are conservative? If I am part of the LBGTQ community? If I am down–and–out? If I am an indigenous person? If I have faith? If I do not have faith? “Do you love me? Do you love me as I am?”
If you can love me … well then that’s the best gift of all you can give me or anyone else this Christmas and throughout the year.
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
One of the decorations I collect for this time of year is the crèche—a rough stable, with Mary and Joseph gazing at their newborn son laid in a manger, attended by shepherds and wise men and assorted animals. That’s the story, right? “She gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn” (Luke 2:7).
Quite naturally, our minds think that all the Best Westerns and Super 8’s in Bethlehem were full because of the crowds coming for the census, and the only space available to this weary couple was the stable behind the inn.
I’m sorry to spoil it, but my crèches are wrong. It just ain’t so.
So where does this idea come from? Let me suggest that the misunderstanding is mainly due to two elements: issues of grammar and meaning, and a lack of knowledge about 1st century Palestinian culture.
Let’s start with grammar and meaning. The Greek word in Luke 2 is “kataluma”. It is translated as “inn, guestroom, or hostel”. Interestingly, Luke uses the same word in Luke 22:11 when Jesus gathers with his disciples near the end of his life for the last supper … and there, the word is translated as “upper room” or “guest room”. That’s really what the word means.
Kenneth Bailey, a scholar renowned for his study of life in 1st–century Palestine, tells us in his book “Jesus Through Middle–Eastern Eyes” that at the time, most families lived in a single–room house. There was a lower area where animals would be brought in at night. The family living area would usually have hollows in the ground near that lower area, filled with straw where the animals would feed. There would also be a room at the back or on the roof for visitors. That’s the “kataluma”, a place for visitors.
As Luke tells the story, Bethlehem was bustling with people for the Roman census (by the way, there is no historical evidence for the census). As a result, Joseph and Mary couldn’t find any space in the guest room of their relatives in town.
Here’s where the second element comes in. In 1st century Palestine, it would be unthinkable that Joseph would not have been received by family members as he returned to the place of his ancestral origins, even if they were not close relatives. It was a culture of hospitality, and family ties were even more important than they are now. They were the glue that helped peasant society stay together.
Joseph could appear suddenly at the home of a distant cousin, recite his genealogy, and be instantly among friends and family who would welcome him with open arms. At the same time, family ties insisted that Joseph would have been honour–bound to seek out his relatives.
So when Luke writes that the “kataluma” had no space, it means that the family guest room is already full with other family visitors. As a result, Joseph and Mary would stay with the family itself, in the main room of the house. That’s where Mary gives birth. The women would likely have chased the men out of the room and attended her. After being born, she would wrap her son in linen cloth, and lay him in the straw–filled depressions near the lower end of the house where the animals are fed.
In other words, Mary and Joseph were not in a stable at the back of a hotel, alone and outcast. That would simply not be possible in that time and place.
Bailey quotes an earlier writer with some amusement, “Anyone who has lodged with Palestinian peasants knows that notwithstanding their hospitality, the lack of privacy is unspeakably painful. One cannot have a room to oneself, and one is never alone by day or by night. I myself often fled into the open country simply in order to be able to think.”
The Christmas story is not about Jesus being sad and lonely at his birth, some distance away in a stable. Rather, Jesus is born in the midst of the family and all the relatives. He is born in the thick of it all, and that’s where the shepherds come to worship. (The magi don’t enter this story at all—that’s Matthew’s story, and they visit the house in Bethlehem!)
The interesting thing is that this interpretation of the story isn’t particularly new. A Presbyterian missionary to Lebanon and Syria, William Thomason, wrote in 1857 that “the birth actually took place in an ordinary house of some common peasant, and that the baby was laid in one of the mangers, such as are still found in the dwellings of farmers in this region.” In an influential commentary from the late 19th century, Alfred Plummer agreed with this take on the story.
So why has the traditional interpretation persisted for so long?
I think there are two main reasons.
First of all, it’s hard for us to forget our own culture and our own assumptions. When we read inn, we naturally think motel—Prestige Inn or Motel 6. And the animals—well they’re kept away from the family of course! So that is where Jesus must have been born. Out back. In a stable.
Secondly, this traditional interpretation is enshrined in carol and legend, and no matter how hard we try, it’s difficult to let go of this traditional understanding. We grew up with it. We sing the familiar carols and listen to the favourite themes of Christmas preachers which emphasize “a lowly cattle shed” and “a draughty stable with an open door”.
The difficulty with the stable is that it distances Jesus from the rest of us. The upper room places Jesus in a human environment with which we can identify much more clearly.
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
We’re in the middle of that great orgy of consumerism again. It’s the great religious festival of the year for North America. Malls and stores are decked out in their finest, seducing shoppers to come on in and sample the wares. Long want lists are mailed off to the North Pole. Mailboxes are stuffed with glossy flyers featuring television sets and audio components and toys and jewelry. Television ads feature beautiful young women and men pitching everything from perfume to laundry soap to computers and even cars, promising us a golden future if only we buy what they’re selling.
A European observer made a visit to the US; he summed up the insatiable drive to accumulate: “Americans cleave to the things of this world as if assured that they will never die … They clutch everything but hold nothing fast, and so lose grip as they hurry after some new delight.”
When did he make that observation? Was it during the recent economic downturn? The time a few years ago when bankers and automakers asked for a bailout? During the dot–com boom of the late 1990’s? The previous era of greed on Wall Street during Reagan’s presidency? During the heyday of the 1950’s?
Nope. Wrong century. Those words were written by French political thinker Alexis de Tocqueville in the 1830’s. Before Ivory Soap was 99 and 44/100% pure. Before Tony the Tiger growled his first “Grrrrrr–eat!” Before McDonald’s served up even one Happy Meal. Before we knew that we deserved a break today. Before the Pepsi Generation. Before the lonely washing machine repairman. Before plop plop fizz fizz oh what a relief it is.
It’s easy to blame advertisers. Indeed they are guilty to a certain extent. They are hazardous to our health in many ways. They fuel our hunger for more stuff. They stoke our restlessness and dissatisfaction with our lives. They often use tactics which stretch ethical standards. They have learned to use modern technology to target us, enticing and alluring us to feed our addiction even more readily.
We have been on a drunken orgy of greed and consumption, fueled by sophisticated marketing and easy credit. We live in a culture of entitlement, in which we think that we’re entitled to all the stuff we have. And so we are seduced into wanting more and more stuff.
Here’s an image for that sense of entitlement. Do you remember a few years ago, when car makers needed a bailout from the government? There they were, the three CEO’s of the automakers in front of Congress with their hands out for a bailout, having flown there in three private jets. They saw nothing wrong with it — even when one of the congressmen asked, “Couldn’t you have jet–pooled? Couldn’t you have downgraded to first class?”
As a friend said to me, “They want to be bailed out so they can keep living that way. They care nothing for the thousands of jobs that might be lost. They only care that they keep their private jets and caviar. Trickle down economics doesn’t work because the top people put all of their energy into not letting that money trickle down. They spend most of their time trying to figure out how to keep it for themselves.”
Even now, as I write, I received an email telling me I could get a $10,000 line of credit. Just like that. No mention of paying it back. Just “imagine what you can do with $10,000 to make this Christmas a really good one.”
It’s time to stop the madness. This kind of over–consumption is antithetical to the life of faith. Consumerism harms us. Consumerism damages our spirit and destroys community. It is dangerous. It is a false religion which makes empty promises of a future it cannot deliver.
But it’s not all the advertisers’ fault. We also bear responsibility for participating in this culture of entitlement. There are selfish desires rooted in the human heart, and we give in to those desires all too easily.
James Twitchell, in his book “Lead Us Into Temptation” states what seems to me to be a self–evident truth about human nature: we like having stuff. We want … more and more.
Another book, “Affluenza” (which was first a PBS documentary) pokes fun, opening with a cartoon of a viewer watching the show about over–consumption. When the show ends with the standard announcement, “for a tape of this program, send check or money order to …”, he pops up eagerly and says, “I need two!”
What we need is a stronger desire to stop looking for others to blame, and to accept responsibility for ourselves. That won’t be easy. But it is necessary if we are to save ourselves and our communities and our world from the dangers of this addiction to stuff.
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
I’ve written about a practice called Alternative Giving, but it’s important enough for me to repeat some of my comments. That’s especially true at this time of year, when we participate in the annual orgy of consumerism which we call Christmas.
Every year, the last week of November presents countless ways for us to indulge our most selfish behaviours. It also gives us an opportunity to be as generous as we can be.
On Black Friday, we are encouraged to buy all kinds of stuff. It’s no longer just a day, it has become a week of indulging our consumerist appetites. Three days later, advertisers and retailers reinforce those selfish impulses by asking us to spend even more money on Cyber Monday. As if we don’t have enough stuff in our lives already.
Then, the very next day, different groups tried to appeal to our better natures on Giving Tuesday. We were encouraged to be generous in our giving to others, and particularly to charities which need our help.
We are driven into an absurd rhythm during this time of year—from one extreme to another. Needless to say, I try not to participate in Black Friday or Cyber Monday, but the wiles of the advertisers are powerful. I’m not always successful. Giving Tuesday is a cause much dearer to my heart.
Let me share with you another way to be generous to others. It’s called alternative giving. The heart of this practice is that people give a donation to a charity in someone’s name instead of giving that person a physical gift.
Why would you do that? In one episode of Seinfeld, George was angry to receive a donation to charity instead of an actual gift. He made up his own non–existent charity and handed out fake donations to other people so he could save money on gifts.
There are many reasons why someone would do this. For some, it’s a protest against the increasing commercialization of life. It’s a statement against our consumerist culture. We already have enough “stuff” and we don’t need more. Alternative giving allows the giver to recognize an occasion (whether it be Christmas, a birthday or an anniversary) and at the same time to do some good. Perhaps there is a cause or an organization dear to the receiver’s heart; that person might truly appreciate the giver’s thoughtfulness in supporting that effort. When someone makes an alternative gift, it’s really a double gift: a gift to the person being honoured and a gift to the charity and the people that really need the help.
We are becoming more and more faithful consumers. Yes, I know “faithfulness” is religious language. I use it deliberately. Someone has recently called consumerism the fastest growing religion in North America. There is some truth to that—witness Black Friday and Cyber Monday.
Alternative Giving allows us to fight against the “sellabration of Christmas”. We can stop just exchanging things with others who already have too much stuff and give our money where it can have a real benefit.
This kind of generous giving is also good for us. Studies have shown that altruism has positive effects on our health. One of the best–known studies was conducted 40 years ago by psychiatrist George Vaillant. He observed the health of a group of Harvard graduates for 30 years. When they reached their fifties, he compared their health with the attitudes they lived by. His conclusion was that people who were generous and who truly cared for others enjoyed much greater mental health. (“Adaptation to Life”, 1977).
We’ve been doing this at Christ Church Anglican since 2006. It was initiated by the children of our Sunday School for a project to raise funds for goats in rural Rwanda.
This year, we are partnering through two projects. The first is a local group in Cranbrook, Street Angels. They do such good work with people who are in desperate need of food, clothing, shelter, and all kinds of help.
The second is an international project through the Anglican Church’s “Primate’s World Relief and Development Fund”. PWRDF reaches out to provide animals, water, farming tools, and other such items to help people in poorer parts of the world.
Here’s another good reason to help Christ Church. There is absolutely no administrative cost. Every penny donated will go directly to this project. There are absolutely no administration fees. Gifts in any amount will be gratefully received. I guarantee it.
Generous people in Cranbrook and elsewhere have gotten involved in alternative giving projects in the past. This is a wonderful way for all of us to look beyond ourselves and help those who are in greater need than we are.
If you would like to be part of this project, please contact Christ Church at (250) 426-2644 or email us at [email protected]. We will provide you with a gift card so you can let people know you’ve made a donation in their name. You will also receive a tax receipt for your charitable gift.
Winston Churchill famously remarked that “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”
John Templeton echoed that when he said, “Happiness comes from giving, not getting. If we try hard to bring happiness to others, we cannot stop it from coming to us also. To get joy, we must give it, and to keep joy, we must scatter it.”
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
I am revisiting this column which I wrote several years ago because it fits in with what I’ve been writing in the past few weeks.
One of the things we hear a lot from more conservative Christians is that “Jesus was born to die.”
We are about to celebrate Advent and Christmas, in which we celebrate the “Incarnation”. That word comes from two Latin words meaning “in the flesh”. It is the theological word we use to talk about what happens with the birth of Jesus. The Christian church has believed throughout the ages that in the birth of Jesus, we celebrate God crashing into our world in human flesh.
Last year, I saw a church sign online which read, “Christmas is the story of a baby born to die.” Unfortunately, it’s quite a common way of thinking about the birth of Jesus. He came to die so that we all can receive the benefits of God’s saving love.
But it ain’t so. It will come as no surprise that there are many other Christians who think quite differently about this.
To put it quite simply, Jesus was not born to die. Jesus was born to live.
Like any other baby, like any other human being, like any other of God’s creatures, Jesus was born to live.
Too many Christians look at Jesus and see only the cross. As if the cross was the only thing of value about Jesus. As if God’s only purpose for Jesus was for him to die. As if the whole of Jesus’ work and ministry in the world counts for nothing. As if none of his teachings really mattered because the only thing that really matters is that “Jesus died for my sins.”
None of that is true, of course. Like any of us, Jesus’ life counts. How he lived, what he taught, how he showed compassion and grace in the world—all of these are equally important as his death. Jesus was born to live.
I wrote a couple of weeks that the good news which Jesus preached and lived was the news of the kingdom of God. That is the overriding theme of most of the New Testament — not that Jesus came to die, but that Jesus came to point to God.
The gospels testify to this over and over again. Probably the clearest statement that Jesus came to live is in John’s gospel: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10). In his own life, Jesus showed us what abundant life looks like. It is found as we share God’s love with others and as we give ourselves in service for the benefit of all.
His whole life long, Jesus showed us that people can experience God’s love in this world. Jesus’ life was dedicated to embracing, healing, loving people and treating all of God’s people with grace and compassion.
It makes me sad to think that anyone can look at the infant Jesus and see only his death.
It makes me sad that anyone can read the radical story of a baby in a manger and think only of a cross.
It makes me sad to imagine that for so many people, Christian faith is only about Jesus dying so that we can get to heaven.
It makes me sad that anyone can reduce the mystery of incarnation to the tragedy of crucifixion.
So let me repeat what I’ve said so often in these columns. It wasn’t Jesus’ death and crucifixion that set things right in the world. Rather, it was Jesus’ whole life that shows what a world set right might look like.
And Jesus showed us that abundant life looks like the kingdom of God: the hungry are fed; the wealthy and the powerful who are doing violence for their own sake are toppled with nonviolence and solidarity; the oppressed are raised up; outsiders, including refugees, are welcomed with open arms and open hearts; broken people are being made whole; lonely people are being welcomed into community; all people are learning to live together in peace for the welfare of all.
Abundant life looks like what we have seen in people like Jean Vanier, who gave up the perks and privileges of his life to live with developmentally handicapped men in community. Like Mahatma Gandhi, who led his people in nonviolent protest against the British Empire. Like Martin Luther King, Jr., who led the fight for civil rights for all people in the US, regardless of colour or status. Like Nelson Mandela, who fought against apartheid, was imprisoned for it, and upon his release refused to give in to violence against his former oppressors.
And Jesus proclaims that this eternal, abundant life begins now, not when we die. Jesus shows us that heaven is found on earth, if only we have eyes to see it and the courage to live it.
The point of Jesus’ life is not the crucifixion. It is the incarnation. Jesus wasn’t born to die. Jesus was born to live—abundantly.
Death is inevitable, but the hope of incarnation is that life happens, that eternal life happens, and that it happens right now.
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve been writing about a different vision of the gospel. When you ask most Christians in North America these days why they are Christian, they will say something along the lines of “Jesus came to die to pay for my sins.”
I respectfully disagree. As I’ve written, the gospel Jesus and Paul preached is not about Jesus dying for my sins. It’s about proclaiming the kingdom of God. It’s about living out God’s love in the world. It’s about making a commitment to living in such a way that we show our loyalty to God’s gospel ways in the world.
The thing is that when we live out of that sense of loyalty to God, the powers–that–be in the world will be threatened. They will seek to get rid of us … as they did when they executed Jesus. But the power of the gospel is such that life will always have the last word. Jesus was willing to pay the price of crucifixion in order to remain loyal to God. In that light, the resurrection is the church’s faith that God vindicated Jesus. Life triumphs, even in the midst of death.
A few months ago, a friend of mine tried to write about this in a story form. I have tinkered with it a little bit … but I think it gets at what I’m trying to say. The analogy to the story of Jesus is not complete. But there are enough connections to make it a worthwhile piece for reflection.
“In a certain city, there a certain gang controlled everything. They were in charge. They got what they wanted. They didn’t care at all about other people. They took what they wanted. They were ‘the law’.
“Two young lawyers, John and Josh, objected. They tried to reason with the gang. They pleaded with them and tried to make them understand the suffering they were causing. But their efforts were useless.
“Finally, the gang had enough of these lawyers and they threatened them. But the lawyers were fearless. Instead of hiding, they went public. They talked about the gang and their violence on TV and radio. They tweeted and texted and showed pictures on facebook.
“So the gang killed John.
“Instead of hiding in fear, Josh became even more determined and outspoken. He called them wicked and brutal. He continued to make their actions public. So the gang tried to kill him too— but failed. Finally, public opinion began to turn against the gang. People were inspired by Josh’s courage. They joined his crusade and began calling for justice.
“Josh continued to receive death threats—letters, phone calls, online threats. “You’re going to pay for this!” And one day, the gang made good on their threats. They abducted Josh and tortured him. They taunted him, but to no avail. They killed him in the most gruesome way they could imagine, enjoying their revenge.
“The only problem was that the gang didn’t enjoy it quite as much as they had anticipated. Josh didn’t react as they expected. He didn’t scream. He didn’t beg for his life. He didn’t promise to shut up.
“All he did was to pray. ‘Father forgive them; they don’t have a clue what they’re doing.’
“And the gang members thought, ‘What a wimp! Good riddance!”
“The story leaked to the press. The details of what had happened became public knowledge. As more people began to see and talk about what John and Josh had tried to accomplish, they imagined a new way of living. They could see themselves standing up to evil, and helping the helpless and impoverished along the way. The media reported the story, and the news spread. Speakers held rallies to talk about non–violence and social justice and looking out for each other. Small groups of people sprang up here and there to help the marginalized and minority groups.
“The gang also grew. They tried to get rid of John and Josh’s followers, killing them and frightening them, and chasing them out of the land.
“One day, the ruler of the land heard about this situation. She was moved by the story of John and Josh, and she declared that their followers would be the inspiration for all the other citizens of the land. They were now under royal protection.
“The followers of John and Josh came to be known as protectors of the poor. They spoke up for those who had no voice. They encouraged others to be generous in caring for the marginalized.
“They still faced persecution. The gang was still strong. But slowly life began to change. New values were honoured by the public. New ways of caring for others became more attractive. A new vision of life was promoted—and while not everyone saw the value of it, more and more people began to understand that life lived this way was healthier and more whole than the old life of fear and wariness.
“It would be nice to say that John and Josh’s followers lived happily ever after—but the struggle continues. But now, there is a meaning and purpose to the struggle that wasn’t there before.”
Rev. Yme Woensdregt
Last week I wrote that the gospel was not about “Jesus dying for my sins”. Jesus and Paul, and the rest of the New Testament authors, proclaim that the gospel is about the kingdom of God. How do Christians, who profess allegiance to Jesus, live in this world as people who belong to God?
So many people commented on that column, grateful for this vision of the Christian life. I am delighted that my words help people make a different kind of sense of the gospel.
I take my lead from Marcus Borg, who has often said that for many people in today’s world, the old ways no longer make sense to us. We are seeking new ways of understanding the gospel. We are seeking new ways of understanding Jesus’ life and ministry. We are seeking new ways to live the Christian faith. If the old ways continue to work for you, then may God continue to bless you. All I ask in return is that you wish the same for me and the countless numbers of people who are seeking new ways.
I want to take last week’s column a step further. I’ve said these things before in my columns. There are still many Christians who say that the only reason Jesus came was to die for my sins so that I could be forgiven. They say that God’s justice demands that we be made right, and only Jesus can satisfy that requirement. In other words, Jesus bore the cost of our forgiveness because we can never be right with God by ourselves.
I disagree profoundly. In his life and teaching, Jesus showed us the incredible depth of God’s amazing love for all the world. Jesus came to bring life in all its abundance. Jesus taught us to live with compassion and grace for the healing of the world. We are worthy of love, and Jesus came for so much more than just to die.
But the other issue is that people think justice and forgiveness are mutually contradictory. I don’t think they are.
In 2011, a movie called “The Descendants” dealt with the whole theme of justice and forgiveness. George Clooney plays Matt King, a Hawaiian land baron, whose wife Elizabeth lays in the hospital in a coma after a boating accident. Matt has been absent for much of their marriage, tending to business. In the course of the movie, Matt learns that his wife had been having an affair before the accident.
The film is largely about Matt’s struggle with his elder daughter Alex to come to terms with what has happened, both Elizabeth’s infidelity and her present state. Matt deals with the stuff of life and death. Both he and Alex have to learn to forgive.
The miracle of this film is that they do. It’s not easy. It takes a lot out of them, but step by painful step, they move towards forgiveness and healing.
Here’s the thing: forgiveness is not about saying everything is ok, or that what happened wasn’t wrong, or that there are no consequences. The consequences of Elizabeth’s affair, and Matt’s physical and emotional distance, ripple throughout the film. Yet the only way this family can move forward is through acceptance and forgiveness.
The film explores this very important theme in life and faith. Forgiveness is never an easy option. It takes work and effort and energy. In the long run, forgiveness is the only way life can continue.
Part of what this film shows us is that forgiveness is not the opposite of justice. Here’s where I think saying that Jesus had to pay the price for our forgiveness is wrong. Forgiveness doesn’t mean that we let someone off the hook without any consequences.
Forgiveness and justice are two sides of the same coin. We forgive someone, and in the acts of doing so, we seek justice and healing for the wrong which required the act of forgiveness. Justice is found as the relationship is healed and made right. Forgiveness is a necessary part of that healing and movement toward justice.
Justice is important. It guides the way we are able to live together. It sets boundaries and enforces rules and exacts payment and punishment and all the rest of it. Justice matters.
Forgiveness also matters. It’s about how we make our relationships work. In fact, forgiveness and justice both are entirely relational. That’s why they are so important, and why they are linked.
To illustrate: what would justice be in the case of Matt, Alex and Elizabeth? That Matt have an affair to even the score? That Elizabeth be punished? That we understand her accident as God’s righteous punishment? For Elizabeth to lose the affection of her daughter and husband?
To put those questions so bluntly helps us see that none of them sound like justice. They may be consequences of her actions, but are any of them just? To ask about justice in this case doesn’t even make a lot of sense to me.
Why? Justice can only take us so far. That’s where forgiveness comes into play. When we forgive, then justice steps forward to redefine the relationship so that it can also grow and become more whole.
God justice is served by God’s forgiveness. It’s not that God needs our sacrifice, or that God demands Jesus’ sacrifice to satisfy God’s justice. God’s relationship with us is marked by love, forgiveness, compassion, and healing so that we can once again take up our identity as people who seek God’s justice in the world.
God’s justice is served precisely by God’s forgiveness. God draws us close, loves us, supports us and encourages us so that we may lead lives of compassion, grace and healing in the world.
This film is about life and grace and love and forgiveness. I dare to say that, though the filmmakers may not have known they were doing so, this film is about God.
Rev. Yme Woensdregt