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I went to the movies last week and I was surprised. I was expecting a couple of hours of mindless entertainment. Instead a parable broke out.

Before I tell you what movie it was, let me say a few words about what a parable is. Many of us are familiar with the notion of parables from the gospels. In Matthew, Mark and Luke, Jesus is presented as someone who was always telling parables—such as the Good Samaritan or the Prodigal Son. These are wonderful little stories which tell us something about God’s love for the world, and what it means to us to be good neighbours to one another.

So what is a parable? As simply as possible, a parable is a metaphorical story. Usually, it’s quite short, but there are a few very long parables as well. The main thing about a parable is that it connects one way of seeing things with another way.

That’s what makes it a metaphor. John Dominic Crossan gives the following simple example: “‘The clouds are sailing across the sea’ is a metaphor because it sees the blue sky as if it were the sea, and it sees the white clouds as if they were white–sailed ships. A metaphor sees one thing as something else.”

Now that’s a fairly simple illustration. It’s like saying “the snow is a white blanket” or “the classroom was a zoo”. Each phrase tells us something important about an experience by opening up a new world to our view as we think about it.

The same thing happens with a parable. As a metaphorical story, a parable helps us see something true about life from quite a different perspective.

Let me return to the Parable of the Good Samaritan. In Luke’s gospel, someone asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbour?” Jesus doesn’t define a neighbour, as we might. Instead, he tells a parable, a metaphorical story. The story fleshes out what it means to act as a neighbour to another person. The story draws us in and works its magic in our hearts and souls as we interact with the characters in the story. We imagine how our lives might be different as we enter the rich world created in the story.

That was the experience I had when I went to watch “Christopher Robin”. It became a parable, the heart of which was about the importance of making a life instead of making a living.

The movie is based, of course, on the stories written by A. A. Milne about Winnie the Pooh and his friends Eeyore, Tigger, Kanga, Roo, Piglet, and the human character Christopher Robin.

Spoiler Alert! The basic story of the movie is that Christopher Robin has grown up. He has left Ashdown Forest, has gone to war and returned home. He is married now, and is the father of a daughter. He works for a luggage company which consumes all his time and all his energy so that he has none for his wife and daughter and—most importantly—for himself. His job is threatened, and he has to find a way out.

So Winnie the Pooh comes from Ashdown Forest to find Christopher Robin, encouraging him to come back. At the same time, we see the pain and disappointment which his wife and daughter feel because he is not able to be present to them. Over and over again, Christopher says he is too busy, he’s got too much to do, he’s got no time for such frivolous activities, he needs to provide, he needs to do, he has to …

Before it’s too late, Pooh finds him and draws him back to Ashdown Forest. In the journey with the friends he has forgotten, Christopher Robin finds himself again. As he does so, he rediscovers his wife and daughter. He learns that life is not about making a living. Life, true life, is about making a good life, filled with relationships and a healthy balance of rest and work. Pooh reminds him, “People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day.”

I went to the show for a couple of hours of entertainment. I found myself transfixed in this gentle and wonderful movie. I was haunted by the words of A A Milne, and the delightful Pooh–isms which I had forgotten in my own adulthood.

It was a parable for me, because it caused me to reflect on my own life. I am often busy. Sometimes, I am too busy. It’s easier for me, because I don’t have a wife or daughter whom I am ignoring. While that makes it easier, it also makes it more difficult, because I have no one to call me on my busyness.

And here’s the thing about parables. They worm their way into my consciousness, and open me up to see something as if it were something else. For the last week or so, I’ve been exercising my imagination as I consider my life and as I discern how to make a life for myself. I’ve been invited into another world … maybe it’s not Ashdown Forest, but it is a place of grace and delight which makes me reconsider what I need in order for my life to be full, complete, abundant and joyful.

Go see the movie. You might just find yourself in it.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

Without a doubt, the most famous verse in the Bible is John 3:16. Inevitably, you will see someone holding up a sign proclaiming “John 3: 16” in large letter as the camera pans around the stadium. In my opinion, it’s an example of an aggressive, in–your–face piety which also implies a sharp word of judgment: “Believe, or else!” It goes against the intent of the verse in question.

If you’re not familiar with it, the verse reads, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

Let’s go through it carefully to see what it really says.

We begin by noting that this verse is not an isolated proverb, or a stand–alone rule for Christians. It comes in the context of a late–night discussion between Jesus and Nicodemus, one of Israel’s religious leaders. It’s part of a much longer conversation.

It begins “God so loved…” That’s the foundation for everything else we find in this verse. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that this is the foundation for the whole of our relationship with God. God loves. Period. Full stop.

Now the word “so” provides a difficulty in translation. It can mean “God loved the world this much”; or it can mean “God’s love for the world is shown in this way”. In either case, the original Greek can mean both things. God’s love is this deep, and it is shown in this way.

Who did God love? “The world.” Now, we’d normally think, “Well, ok, that’s kind of general, but it’s good to include everyone.” But that’s not what John means by “the world”. For John, the “world” always refers to that which is indifferent or even hostile to God. Suddenly the meaning changes—God loves those who are indifferent or hostile to God. God’s passion reaches out to everyone.

How much? God so loved the world “that he gave”. Notice that the word “sacrifice” doesn’t appear anywhere. John 3:16 doesn’t mention at all that we have sinned, that we needed the Son to ransom us. In this verse, God did not sacrifice the Son. God gave the Son—a gift, freely given from God’s heart.

Who did God give? “His only Son.” Older translations use the phrase “his only begotten Son”, but that’s a mistranslation. Jesus isn’t God’s only son. We are all daughters and sons of God. The Greek word “monogenes” means uniquely born. In this phrase, God’s only son has to do with the uniqueness of Jesus’ relationship with God. It says that Jesus enjoyed an intimacy with God which we only approximate.

We get to the heart of the verse with the next phrase: “so that everyone who believes in him may not perish.” Those who hold the signs up at football games understand this to mean that if we don’t believe in Jesus, we’re going to go to hell.

Nonsense. The Greek word for believe doesn’t mean agreeing that something is true. It means to trust. Jean Vanier describes trust as “a dynamic relationship that grows and evolves. It is an openness to another. It is a gift of self … [and therefore] this gospel is about growing in trust, growing in a relationship of love with Jesus. Belief is not trusting and adhering to an abstract doctrine, it is believing and trusting in the person of Jesus and in his words.”

This phrase has to do with living in a relationship of trust and grace, of compassion and love with Jesus, and also with the world which God loves so deeply. It has to do with the quality of our life in relationship with the one to whom we have entrusted ourselves.

As we live that way, the hope is that we “may not perish”. Again, that’s interpreted as dying in the eternal fires of hell. Again, that’s a misunderstanding.

The word “perish” simply means to be lost. It’s very similar to what it means in the parables which Luke tells about the lost sheep, or the lost coin, or the lost son in Luke 15. To perish is to be like a coin that rolls away under the furniture. To perish is to be like a sheep that wanders from the herd. To be perish is to be like the youngest son who goes to a far country and loses any sense of who he is.

And in each of those examples in Luke, the person involved searches and searches until the lost item is found. That’s what it means for God to love the world so much. We won’t be lost. God will find us.

And finally, as we live in that kind of relationship, the promise is that we “may have eternal life.” Now this really is an unfortunate translation. The normal meaning of the word “eternal” is that it refers to something that lasts forever. And we usually assume that it begins after we die.

But it ain’t necessarily so in Greek. The Greek phrase actually means “the life of the age to come.” What John is saying is that as we live in trust, we live life here and now in such a way as to show the values of the age to come. To quote Vanier again, “It is the life of the Eternal One flowing in and through each of us, given to us as we are born from above through our trust in Jesus. We receive the life that is in him.”

We can live eternal life now, living by the gospel values of God, values of love, grace, compassion, hope, and joy.

John 3:16 is not a threat. Indeed, it is the promise of a life marked by abundance and hope.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

Last week, I published an angry rant about the heartless policies of President Trump. That’s an important thing to do, calling out the evil we see in the world around us. It’s important to expose what’s wrong with Trump’s immoral, misogynistic, bullying administration.

But I’m also aware that doing so is a negative thing. It’s not a positive thing. When we engage in angry rants, however necessary and well deserved they may be, we don’t contribute to the good of the world.

This week, I hope to take last week’s rant and turn it around to something positive. I ended that column by referring to Jesus, who proclaimed that the kingdom of God was coming to birth amidst the kingdoms of this world.

What is this “kingdom of God” to which Jesus refers? Many have thought that Jesus was talking about a time and place beyond time when God’s kingdom would be brought to full consummation. I disagree. For Jesus, the kingdom of God exists here and now. Jesus saw God present and active in our world, and we live within the reign of God when we recognize God’s full and active presence. This is what we pray for every time we say the Lord’s Prayer: “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as in heaven.”

So what is this kingdom of God?

That’s an important question. We need to be reminded to look for God’s reign among us. There are so many things in this life which distract us from living within God’s reign. There are so many things that happen in our public and private lives which run counter to God’s reign. There are many ways in which we seek to insulate and anaesthetize ourselves to the demands of God’s reign. So we need reminders.

Here’s the beginning of a list. It illustrates the places where we can look for God’s reign among us, but it doesn’t exhaust all the possibilities.

The kingdom of God always chooses love and compassion over rules. That is clear when Jesus heals a man on the sabbath (Mark 3). You weren’t supposed to do anything on the sabbath, but Jesus reminds his opponents that human lives always take precedence over laws.

The kingdom of God is dedicated to dissolving boundaries and borders rather than building walls. Ephesians 2 reminds us that Jesus came to break down every dividing wall between people. The kingdom of God reaches out in compassion and love to break down every wall and build bridges.

The kingdom of God welcomes all people, from the very young to the very old. There’s a story about the disciples wanting to shoo the children away (Matthew 19). After all, Jesus was an important man, too important for such childish pursuits. But Jesus scolds the disciples and embraces the children. Indeed, Jesus holds the children up as models for us—who think we are important. We don’t rip children from their mother’s arms — we hold them and all people safe.

The kingdom of God doesn’t honour the rich or powerful as models of Jesus. Rather, Jesus reminds us that we welcome Jesus as we welcome the least and the lowest of our brothers and sisters (Matthew 25). In today’s world, that would include immigrants and migrants and refugees, drug addicts and alcoholics. In fact, Jesus reminds us over and over again that the first will be last; the rich and powerful stand at the end of the life in the kingdom.

In the kingdom of God, it’s not true that God helps those who help themselves. God, through us, helps those who are in desperate need, those who cannot help themselves.

The kingdom of God discounts all our human differences. Paul reminds us that “In Christ, there is neither slave nor free, male nor female, Jew nor Greek” (Galatians 3). All human differences and division is wiped away. All are one in God’s economy. There is neither immigrant nor longterm resident. There is neither gay nor straight. There is neither white nor coloured. All are one.

The kingdom of God does not define us primarily by our nationality or our gender or our wealth. Rather, we are characterized by our loyalty to God and our faithfulness to the way of Jesus. Three out of four gospels record Jesus as saying that we should give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor and give to God what belongs to God. In Jesus’ worldview, everything belongs to God. We are Christian before we are Canadian.

I could go on. But you get the point. Those who claim to be followers of Jesus are called to look at the world through gospel eyes, through kingdom eyes.

It’s not a theoretical thing—it’s meant to become reality.

It’s not a sentimental notion—it’s meant to be part of our daily lives.

It’s not a normal thing—it’s powerfully countercultural.

Jesus calls us to incarnate that kingdom. The kingdom becomes real in us. God claims us, and we act by speaking words of hope, reaching out in compassion, and living with a deep love which includes all people.

When we begin to do that, when we begin to act on the faith we claim to hold, then the kingdom of God begins to be born in us. Then we can truly pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as in heaven.”

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

One of my favourite prayers of all time is the prayer offered by Episcopal Bishop Eugene Robinson at the first inauguration of Barack Obama as President of the United States. The second half of the prayer expressed Robinson’s hope that God would bless Obama with wisdom and strength to lead the nation in perilous times. The opening half of the prayer seeks God’s blessing on us. Let me quote it in full:

“O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…

“Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.

“Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.

“Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic “answers” we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.

“Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be “fixed” anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.

“Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.

“Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.

“Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.”

We need strong prayers like that in these days, as we seek to strengthen us in our faith to stand against evil. We need people who are willing to stand up to the authoritarian despot living in the White House who rules through fear, hatred and lies. We need people who speak the truth boldly, who are seized by a holy anger, who speak the truth of God’s compassion and love into a situation of inhumane action.

A quotation attributed to Edmund Burke gives us our marching orders: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good [people] to do nothing.” We cannot do nothing.

God bless us with anger … God bless us with discomfort … God bless us with a strong hope to motivate and energize us to speak out, to do what we can in our own situations, to uncover the lies and hold the hatred up to the light of truth and hope.

What can we do in the face of this appalling, subhuman behavior? Many have suggested routes of action. Among other things, Carter Heyward suggests some of the following paths of action.

We can speak boldly. This is what the prophets of old did as they spoke truth to power. We can do as they did to communicate the truth in whatever ways we can. This is not about conservative or liberal values. The Trump administration has stepped over the line multiple times, and he has dared to use Christian faith to legitimate his hunger for power and his greed for greater wealth.

We can connect with others, joining together with others who want to do something constructive. If we are isolated, we will become depressed about our ability to do anything at all.

We can vote. I know that this is another country … but if we fail to vote in our own jurisdiction, it can happen here as well (I am watching Ontario carefully, wondering if that’s the canary in the Canadian coal mine). It’s happening in other places … in Austria and Italy and Germany and France. We must ever be vigilant, or we could fall victim.

We can give money to organizations which are banding together to act. However much or however little we can give … give. Give to organizations who are working for justice, whether it be for immigrants and refugees, for justice for women and LGBTQ persons, for Truth and Reconciliation with our aboriginal neighbours … give.

We can protest and defend democracy. Resist the lies. Uncover the hatred. Rage against the perversion of democratic values which we see in this government.

We can live positively and compassionately. I have renewed my personal pledge to speak the truth gently and with love. I have enrolled in an online course which helps us learn to live and speak as compassionately as possible. I will work hard to build bridges, not walls. I will seek to be more inclusive and loving in the way I love.

We can take heart. The poet Renny Golden entitled one of her collections of poetry, “Struggle is a name for hope.” We are not alone in our anger. We are together, and together we can take heart.

As we do so, we join the company of ancient prophets who spoke truth to power, who helped us dream of a world of compassion, grace, truth, and love. As we engage with the lies and inhuman treatment of others, we join the company of Jesus whose central message was about the kingdom of God coming to birth amid the kingdoms of this world.

More about that next week.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

 

A few weeks ago, I wrote a couple of columns about the evolution of theology. The main point is that our way of speaking about God necessarily changes as our knowledge in other areas grows, and as the situation of our life together on earth changes.

This week, I thought of another example. One of the points I made is that one of the deep existential questions we have been asking in the last 100 years is about where we can find meaning and purpose in our lives. People didn’t ask that question in previous centuries.

Historians generally note that World War 1 changed everything for human beings. That war introduced massive numbers of casualties in war. Such huge numbers of death was largely unknown in previous wars. Before World War 1, battles were largely fought face–to–face, one army facing another across a field.

But World War 1 introduced trench warfare and chemical warfare. Weapons became more sophisticated so that you could kill more people from greater distances away. Civilian and military casualties are estimated at 37 million. The horror was so great that it was supposed to be the war to end all wars.

And then came World War 2. Estimates of total deaths range from 50 million to 80 million. Now, death could be rained from the armadas of planes in the air. Ships could be bombed from underneath the seas. Concentrations camps killed millions of people. The first nuclear bomb rained death and destruction for over a generation on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

It led to a whole new way of thinking about life. It led to a whole new set of questions about whether life means anything or not. It was a monumental shift in human experience.

Not surprisingly, it led to new ways of envisioning God.

Near the end of World War 2, a small scrap of paper was smuggled out of the Nazi prison cell where Dietrich Bonhoeffer was held. A church leader and theologian, Bonhoeffer agreed to become part of the plot to assassinate Hitler. The plot failed, he was jailed, and a few weeks later, he was executed. That small scrap of paper had these words scratched on them: “Only the suffering God can help.”

At that moment, sitting in his prison cell, facing his execution, seeing his beloved country torn apart by war and his dear church following the Führer rather than walking in the way of Jesus, Bonhoeffer found comfort in his faith in a God who suffers.

That seems a remarkable change from earlier times, when people generally believed that God was unchanging. The technical word for that is “impassibility” (from the Latin words meaning “not” and “able to suffer or experience emotion”). The old theology held that since God was perfect and unchanging, God was unable to suffer or to respond to pain.

Bonhoeffer, however, tapped into another part of the Biblical story, which conceives of a God who suffers with God’s people. The Exodus story begins with God appearing to Moses in a burning bush, where God says, “I know the sufferings of my people …” and therefore I will deliver my people.

Again, the prophet Isaiah describes a God who will “cry out like a woman in labour” and “gasp and pant” (Isaiah 42). This is not an impassible God. This is a God who is present with all who suffer, all who are oppressed, all who seek comfort in the midst of pain and suffering. It’s a return to a different theological emphasis which makes sense in the light of the atrocities of the first half of the 20th century.

This theological understanding powerfully eloquent language in the novel “Night” by Elie Wiesel, in which he recounts his own nightmare as a Holocaust survivor. An episode in the novel describes a hanging. Three gallows were erected, one of them intended for a child. Someone asks, “Where is merciful God? Where is He?”

Wiesel describes the hanging, and ends his heart–breaking description, “Behind me, I heard the same man asking: “For God’s sake, where is God?” And from within me, I heard a voice answer: “Where is He? This is where – hanging here from this gallows…”

It strikes me that in the light of the tragedies of the 20th century — the trenches of World War 1, the Holocaust, the Gulag, the killing fields — it was no longer possible to worship a God who was untouched by human suffering.

This new exploration becomes a powerful witness to a God who is passible, a God who is with God’s people in our search for meaning and purpose in life. It gives a whole new context for helping us understand Emmanuel, which means “God with us”. As we explore this new world–view, we seek to understand the nature of God in terms of suffering love.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

I’m sure you all saw the news report last week about the Louisville televangelist who is convinced that God wants him to own a fourth private jet. Jesse Duplantis, without any shame or embarrassment, called on his followers to donate the $54 million which he needs to buy that jet. It seems that the three jets he already owns are not enough. Not good enough. Not fancy enough. Not whatever enough.

The jet Duplantis wants can seat up to 19; it also has an onboard shower in addition to all kinds of other amenities. But he claims he needs it so that he might spread the gospel more efficiently and effectively.

In a recent episode of his web show, “This Week with Jesse”, he showed viewers framed photos of the three jets he has already “purchased for the Lord.” Apparently, two of them are being used now by other pastors, and the third one is “no longer up to par”. With the new jet, the evangelist says he could fly “one–stop to faraway places for a lot cheaper,” using fuel from his own fuel farm instead of paying for jet fuel during stops.

The fact that he needed this new jet was revealed to him directly from heaven. He had a conversation with God, who told him, “‘I want you to believe me for a Falcon 7X.’ The first thing I thought was ‘How am I going to pay for it?’ And a great statement that God told me in 1978 flooded into my mind. He said, ‘Jesse, I didn’t ask you to pay for it. I asked you to believe for it.’”

Has he no shame?

Apparently not. He continues in this perversion of the gospel that if Jesus were alive today, he wouldn’t be wearing sandals, and he wouldn’t be riding a donkey. “Think about it for a minute. He’d be in an airplane preaching the gospel all over the world.”

It would be one thing if Duplantis were the only kook who preached this kind of greed and nonsense. But he’s not. Many other evangelists believe in what they call “the prosperity gospel”, including folks like Joel Osteen, Creflo Dollar (now that’s a name you can’t make up!) and Kenneth Copeland.

The prosperity gospel is a belief among some Christians that financial blessing and physical well–being are always the will of God for them. They preach that faith, positive speech, and donations to religious causes will increase one’s material wealth. For them, the Bible is a contract between God and human beings. If we have faith in God, God will deliver security and prosperity. It’s guaranteed. 100%!

So nice things like private jets and fancy cars and huge mansions and $6,000 suits are signs of God’s blessing. It’s their well–earned reward for living such a faithful life. They go further. If you share your wealth with the televangelists, then God will bless you just as much.

The story gets worse. Duplantis was interviewed by fellow televangelist Kenneth Copeland on his television show. They sanctimoniously agreed that a private jet is a “sanctuary” where pastors can talk directly to God. Copeland noted that “The world is in such a shape, we can’t get there without this. We’ve got to have this. The mess that the airlines are in today I would have to stop … at least 75 to 80, more like 90 percent of what we’re doing because you can’t get there from here.”

Copeland later added in the same interview, “You can’t manage that today in this dope–filled world, and get in a long tube with a bunch of demons. And it’s deadly.”

It suddenly becomes very clear exactly what these two think of the people to whom they are preaching.

Why would you listen to this crappy theology? Why would you give any of these people a minute of your time, never mind your money? As I was writing this, I began to feel dirty.

Let me be quite clear. The prosperity gospel is not the gospel. It is an aberration. It’s a way for these mutts to baptize their greed, their hunger for financial idols, and their lust for power and influence. No wonder Trump likes these guys.

Judging by their standards, Jesus was an abysmal failure. He was born poor. He lived poor. He loved the poor peasants with whom he associated. He embraced them as people who were cherished by God. More to the point, far from living in an air–conditioned mansion and travelling in private jets, Jesus walked the dusty roads and died in the heat of the day, executed as a criminal by the state whom he threatened by his very presence.

Duplantis would never threaten anyone. He succumbs to the values of this age, and in doing so denies the gospel he claims to preach.

Jesus may not have ridden a donkey if he were on earth today. But one thing is certain: Jesus would not be seen in the company of a jackass like this.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

Last week, I wrote about the fact that human knowledge is in constant flux. We know more than we used to about so many different things.

I also suggested that the same thing is true of theology—which literally means “study about God”. Theology is the way we engage in God–talk, and like everything else, it changes from generation to generation.

This week, I met someone on the street who disagreed with me quite strongly. “God doesn’t change. God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow,” he said. In our conversation, I said that even if God is immutable (which in itself is a question worth exploring), our way of talking about God is not. We live in different times, and we must find ways of affirming how God is present among us. Different questions provoke new answers to the questions being asked in our generation.

That’s not a new idea. We see this kind of process in the Bible itself. Since the Bible is not really a book, but a library of books written over many centuries and reflecting different points of view, it’s a natural thing to see different points of view included therein.

Consider the case of Nahum and Jonah. Both are Old Testament prophetic books. Nahum was probably written in the 7tn century BC. Jonah likely comes from the 4th century BC or so. The message of these prophets was delivered about 300 years apart, and show two very different perspectives.

About the year 645 BC, Nahum gloats over the destruction of the capital city of ancient Israel’s deadly enemy Assyria. Nahum almost delights as he describes Nineveh filled with “piles of dead, heaps of corpses, dead bodies without end … I am against you, says the Lord of hosts.”

300 years later, Jonah tells a story about a prophet begin sent to Nineveh to warn the residents that God was about to unleash a terrible judgment. Surprisingly, the citizens of Nineveh heard the message and were moved to repent. As a result, God changed God’s mind about the devastation. Even Nineveh has a place in God’s purposes.

That’s not necessarily a contradiction in the Bible. Instead, we interpret this as a new perspective which came about with a new understanding at a later time. A new generation thought and spoke differently about God’s purposes in life.

It’s hard for the church to do that. It’s much easier to stick with traditional ways of speaking about God. But we can’t.

Let me give an example. In the 17th and 18th centuries, it was a relatively common thing to hear preachers rail against how sinful human beings were. It was the time of revival meetings both in Europe and more commonly in the USA. This has come to be known as “worm theology”, from a hymn by Isaac Watts called “Alas! And did my Saviour bleed”. That hymn has a line which describes the hymnist as “a worm such as I.”

The idea of worm theology was that we must abase ourselves in order to receive and grasp God’s mercy. In the face of God’s unimaginable holiness, we are worthless. Only as we acknowledge that can God’s mercy be effective in us.

That way of thinking and speaking about God has caused untold spiritual abuse. People have been told they are worthless—when in fact the Bible proclaims the exact opposite. Genesis affirms that “we are created in the image of God”, and Psalm 8 echoes that when it proclaims that God has “crowned mortals with glory and honour.” Psalm 139 goes on in this vein to proclaim that “I am fearfully and wonderfully made”.

This is just one example of how our faith needs to find new images and new words to express God’s love in a new age. That kind of worm theology was a distortion of the good news of Jesus, and it’s a good thing we’ve come to realize just how wrong it is.

Why is this particular issue important? Because that kind of theology is found in probably the most often sung Christian hymn—“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.”

The hymn was written by John Newton, a contemporary of Isaac Watts, who was the captain of a ship which was involved in the slave trade. Newton wrote this hymn to illustrate his own experience that forgiveness and redemption are possible regardless of the sins one commits. We can be delivered from personal despair through God’s mercy.

While I affirm Newton’s central insight that God’s love embraces us all, I can no longer sing these words. I am not a wretch. Neither is anyone else a wretch. I don’t think that language about human beings was ever appropriate. Certainly in this age, when we lift up the dignity of every human being, when we recognize once more that all human beings have value and worth, we cannot sing those words.

All people are held in love. All have dignity and worth. It doesn’t matter whether you’re male or female, rich or poor, gay or lesbian or straight, black or white. No human distinctions matter.

This is but one example of a rich and powerful tradition of faithful people seeking new ways to speak about the God who fills all of life with meaning and purpose, compassion and grace.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

Human knowledge is continually changing. We are constantly learning more about almost everything—from the stars above us to the flowers all around us to the very nature of the earth itself.

This week, for example, a tenth annual list was published by the International Institute for Species Exploration (IISE) which is part of the State University of New York’s College of Environmental Science and Forestry of the Top Ten new species which have been discovered and named this year. Who would have thought?

Part of the reason we’re learning about new species is because we are able to peer more deeply into the oceans, or because we have more powerful microscopes to see what was invisible to us even just a few years ago. This year, the list contains a new species of protobacteria which was found in the Canary Islands after the eruption of a volcano there in 2011. Who knows what we might find in Hawaii in a few years? We’ve discovered a new tadpole–like fish which lives about 7,000 metres deep in the western Pacific Ocean.

But it’s not just tiny creatures. We’ve found a new species of orangutan in the forests of north Sumatra, and a tree in Brazil which towers up to 40 metres. Scientists estimate that about 18,000 new species are discovered every year, and that there are still about 10 million undiscovered species. Don’t get too comfortable, however. We’re losing about 20,000 species a year, for an annual net deficit.

It boggles the mind how our knowledge has developed and evolved.

Our ancient ancestors imagined that the world was flat because that was all they could see; now we have modern telescopes which can see light years into outer space. We used to believe that the sun moved across the sky; now we know that the earth orbits the sun. We used to think that math was something we could easily manage on our fingers and toes; now we have to learn calculus and quantum physics and string theory. Our ancestors believed that people who had a seizure were possessed by demons; now we know it may be epilepsy or another disease.

Human knowledge continues to evolve in many different fields from math to physics to economics to psychology to almost anything you can imagine.

The same is true of theology. The word “theology” comes from two Greek words: “theos”, which means God; and “logia” which means study. Literally, theology means “study of God”. In the same way, for example, “psychology” means “study of spirit or soul”.

In other words, the way we think about God develops or evolves. While there are many Christians who wish that theology would stay the same, it really doesn’t. It’s like any other form of human endeavor in that way. Usually, theology changes in response to changing contexts or circumstances. Theologians developed yesterday’s answers in light of yesterday’s questions.

Today, we’re asking new questions. We need to develop new answers.

Let me give you some example. At the time of the Reformation (16th century), the deep existential question at the time had to do with guilt. Sinful people felt guilty in the presence of a holy God, and so they looked for ways to be absolved of that guilt. It’s not so hard to understand why that was. They were dealing with the history of the Black Plague, which killed almost 25 million people. Roughly half of Europe’s population died. Naturally they would ask, “Why did this happen? What did we do wrong?”

As a result, theology and worship was filled with the need to confess. Theologians took every chance to encourage people to confess their sin so that God would forgive and have mercy.

Here’s another example. One of the longest–lingering ways of talking about why Jesus had to die was written by Anselm at the end of the 11th century. He basically said that God was angry at us because we were sinful. We were unable to satisfy the justice of God, so someone sinless had to be found to pay the price. That’s where Jesus’ death on the cross comes in. The perfect man died in our place.

But we need to know that Anselm wrote in the context of a feudal time. Society was structured around the relationship between a master and his serfs. The most important thing in life was to safeguard the reputation of the master, and to do everything you could to make sure he got his due. Can you see the relationship between Anselm’s theory and the social structure of the day?

We no longer live in either of those contexts.

That raises the question about what the deep existential question is today. Different philosophers and theologians give different answers. The one that makes most sense to me is that contemporary life is a search for meaning. We are looking for a purpose.

It’s a different question about life, so we need to come up with different answers. Faith is no longer about appeasing an angry God. Faith is no longer about being absolved of our guilt. Faith has to do these days with seeking meaning for our lives. Faith has to do with finding a purpose which will fill our lives with goodness and hope and joy.

Theology evolves … just like the rest of human knowledge. Therefore, we always need to be seeking new expressions of our faith. We need to find new ways of talking about our trust in God if we are to make sense of our lives and our faith.

I’ll have more to say about that next week.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

 

 

There are some days when I’m proud to be a Christian. This is one of them.

I’ve written before of times when other Christians are an embarrassment to me—

Bu sometimes we get it right. I am rejoicing today about the upcoming launch of a statement called “Reclaiming Jesus Declaration: A Confession of Faith in a Time of Crisis”. (you can find it online at www.reclaimingjesus.org).

The statement will be publicly launched on Thursday, May 24 at 7 pm EDT. Church leaders and other Christians will gather at the National City Christian Church in Washington DC for a time of prayer and preaching. At 8:30 pm they will process to the White House where they will hold a silent candlelight vigil until 10 pm. More than 1,000 people are expected to take part.

Jim Wallis of Sojourners says that “the church service, the procession to the White House, and silent candlelight vigil is planned as a response to the moral and political crises at the highest levels of political leadership that are putting both the soul of the nation and the integrity of Christian faith at stake. We call upon all Christians to remember that our identity in Jesus precedes every other identity.”

The Statement is signed by 22 leaders, including Jim Wallis; Presiding Bishop Michael Curry of The Episcopal Church; James Forbes from Union Theological Seminary; Ron Sider from Evangelicals for Social Action; Bishop Will Willimon from the United Methodist Church; Tony Campolo, founder of Red Letter Christians; Richard Rohr; and Amos Brown of the National Baptist Convention. It’s a broad coalition of Christians working together in a time of crisis.

The opening two paragraphs issue a stark warning, followed by a call to action: “We are living through perilous and polarizing times as a nation, with a dangerous crisis of moral and political leadership at the highest levels of our government and in our churches. We believe the soul of the nation and the integrity of faith are now at stake.

“It is time to be followers of Jesus before anything else—nationality, political party, race, ethnicity, gender, geography—our identity in Christ precedes every other identity. We pray that our nation will see Jesus’ words in us. ‘By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35).’”

The declaration was issued as the result of a number of concerns with both the policies of the Trump administration, and the style of governing exhibited by the current White House. It calls Trump’s “America first” policy “a heresy for followers of Christ,” and goes on to say, “while we share a patriotic love for our country, we reject xenophobic or ethnic nationalism that places one nation over others as a political goal.”

The strongly–worded statement speaks out against other policies on the environment, immigration, and its treatment of the poor, as well as the authoritarian political leadership of the current administration and its neglect of public service and accountability.

The statement also hits out at gender–based violence and misogyny, saying: “we are one body. In Christ, there is to be no oppression based on race, gender, identity, or class (Galatians 3:28). The body of Christ, where those great human divisions are to be overcome, is meant to be an example for the rest of society. When we fail to overcome these oppressive obstacles, and even perpetuate them, we have failed in our vocation to the world—to proclaim and live the reconciling gospel of Christ.

“Therefore, we reject misogyny, the mistreatment, violent abuse, sexual harassment, and assault of women that has been further revealed in our culture and politics, including our churches, and the oppression of any other child of God. We lament when such practices seem publicly ignored, and thus privately condoned, by those in high positions of leadership. We stand for the respect, protection, and affirmation of women in our families, communities, workplaces, politics, and churches. We support the courageous truth–telling voices of women, who have helped the nation recognise these abuses. We confess sexism as a sin, requiring our repentance and resistance.”

The statement affirms the centrality of speaking truthfully. “Truth is morally central to our personal and public lives. Truth–telling is central to the prophetic biblical tradition, whose vocation includes speaking the Word of God into their societies and speaking the truth to power … Therefore, we reject the practice and pattern of lying that is invading our political and civil life. Politicians, like the rest of us, are human, fallible, sinful, and mortal. But when public lying becomes so persistent that it deliberately tries to change facts for ideological, political, or personal gain, the public accountability to truth is undermined.”

It is a strong statement which calls followers of Jesus to a more faithful journey together. It concludes, “We are deeply concerned for the soul of our nation, but also for our churches and the integrity of our faith. The present crisis calls us to go deeper – deeper into our relationship to God; deeper into our relationships with each other, especially across racial, ethnic, and national lines; deeper into our relationships with the most vulnerable, who are at greatest risk … “It is time for a fresh confession of faith. Jesus is Lord. He is the light in our darkness. ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life’ (John 8:12).”

Rev. Yme Woensdregt

I’ve noticed over the last number of years that it is becoming more and more common for people to choose not to have funerals. Honestly, that causes me some concern.

People are making this choice for a number of different reasons: I don’t want it to be all about me; funerals are morbid and sad, and I’d rather have a celebration at some later time; it’s an inconvenience for people; I want people to remember me as I was when I was alive; I don’t want to bother anyone; I don’t want my family to bear the cost of a funeral. I’m sure there are other reasons.

On top of that, we have all kinds of euphemisms for talking about death. Rarely do I hear someone say, “So–and–so died.” Rather, we use phrases like “we lost her” or “he fell off the twig” or “she’s no longer with us” or “he didn’t make it” or “went out with a bang”. Some religious folks say that “she was promoted to glory.” Google it. You’ll find hundreds of other ways to avoid saying the word “die” or “death.”

We avoid the subject. But we can’t. According to a popular saying, it’s one of the two certainties in life. None of us are going to get out of life alive.

Instead of a funeral service, many people are opting for what is called “direct cremation”. The body is removed from the place of death directly to the crematorium, and the cremains are then given to the family, without any memorial or opportunity to grieve.

As I said, this causes me some concern.

I understand that it’s hard to talk about dying and death. Yes it is. It’s a difficult time, a time of sadness and grief. But it’s precisely because it’s difficult that we need some way of honouring our loved ones.

I talked recently with a family who told me that they had convinced the person who had died that it was important to the survivors to have a funeral.

I think they were exactly right. The funeral service is not for the person who has died. The funeral rite is for the living.

Why do I say that? I have three main reasons.

1) A funeral lets us grieve. Yes, I know grief is hard. We generally don’t grieve very well. Our society much prefers us to be always happy. Someone asks us, “How are you doing?” and we normally answer, “I’m good thanks”—even if our lives are falling apart. “Never let them see you sweat”—right? No one else wants to know that we’re struggling. No one else really cares. So we bury our sadness, we push down our grief, we put on our pretend face and cover up our sorrow.

But when someone we love dies, we need to be sad. We have experienced a deep loss. We need to express that sense of loss. A funeral rite gives us a safe space to mourn, to acknowledge that someone we loved has died. At a funeral, people are surrounded by those they love. Their family and friends embrace them in their pain, and they begin the process of learning to deal with their loss. We begin the process of letting go, of saying goodbye to someone who was a huge part of our lives.

2) A funeral lets us celebrate someone’s life. Tears are almost always accompanied by laughter. As I listen to eulogies, people will often tell a story about the one who has died which brings out a smile. We celebrate the goodness of the person’s life, and remember all those good memories. We give thanks for the love people have brought into our lives.

3) A funeral lets us begin the search for meaning. We begin to think about the meaning of life and death at a funeral. We begin to try to make sense of the change in our life.

Finding meaning in the midst of life and death is a long process. It takes a lot of time and effort. The funeral rite is a time when we can begin that process. When we are surrounded by family and friends, we can ask questions about meaning … “Why?” “Why now?” “What am I going to do now?” “How will my life make sense without her or him?” As we begin to deal with those kinds of questions, the healing process begins.

Let me make a few final comments.

A funeral need not be a religious service. It makes absolute sense to hold a non–religious rite for a person who wasn’t religious. You have the freedom to tailor a funeral service to  reflect your spirituality.

A funeral need not be expensive. There are some basic costs for cremation or burial, but beyond that, the costs are entirely within your control. The best way to ensure you keep that control is to pre–arrange what happens to you at the time of death.

A funeral is not inconvenient. Taking a few hours out of your week to show your love for the person who has died is not an inconvenience. It is a privilege.

Let me say it again. A funeral rite is not for the dead; it is for the living.

If you have specified that you don’t want a funeral … let me encourage you to rethink that. Talk about it with your family and friends. Discuss your wishes. Talk about their needs.

It’s a good thing to do.

Rev. Yme Woensdregt