A man undone: Lent 2020

I must die.  Lent is the season that reminds me that I must die.  Die to myself.   Die to my desires, die to my hopes, die to my dreams.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer says that that “Christ bids us to come and die.” So I know th
at must die.  

            As we begin Lent, I know that this must be a season in which I reflect on my sins and to confront my own self.  But it must be more than this. I must completely undo myself…to remake myself.

            Lent is about putting to death all the things that are in opposition to God. Lent is about self-reflection and re-centering yourself around God’s will for your life.  But…where does this leave me?

            I must die.

            I must undo that which I have become.  I must…unbecome.

            Lent tells me that I must sacrifice all…that I must be willing…no…must be able…to endure the complete reduction of who I am.

            Where to begin? How do you start to…undo yourself?  How do you start to…die?

            The first thing that must go is my idea of career.  I no longer think of myself as a chaplain.  Rather, I think of myself as a person who works as a chaplain.  This might seems as a slight difference, but it is actually very significant.  I do not associate myself as one who is worthy to have the title, “Chaplain,” or “Chaps…” There are also those that hold that title with whom I do not wish to associate.  Is that pride on my part? But I feel that I must not think of myself as a chaplain… ‘chaplain’ as an ontological part of my being.

            Rather, I must think of myself as a man in relationship to his God.  But even so, what does that mean?

            The prophet Micah told the people of Israel to “love justice, do mercy, and to walk humbly with their God.” The season of Lent is an opportunity to learn to walk humbly with their God.

            I will confess that at 44 years old, I do not have a grasp on this.  I want to tell God what His plan is for me.  I want to direct the course of my life and most of all to expand my kingdom and my comfort. What if God’s plan is not what I want? Imagine if God is calling you to a life of obscurity…could we do it? What if God was asking us to give up our hopes and dreams…without the assurance that there is something better.  Could we do that?

            The central image of the period of Lent is Christ on the cross.  Paul writes about this and tells us that Jesus, “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:6-8). If Christ was willing to do this, what does that call me…us…to?

            This Lent for me is about reflecting on Christ on the cross and trying to instill humility within myself.  Prayer, reading, fasting are all part of this.  Engaging with the Stations of the Cross on a weekly basis is also a large part of my Lenten observance.   But I feel that I have to do more than this.  Periods of silence, reflection and introspection must become the norm.  Most of all, I must begin to tackle my own pride.  I must let Christ teach me to learn how to die to myself. I must put away my vain ambitions.  I must learn to be a better man…a better husband, a better father…only then can I begin to…come alive.  

Where do Evangelicals Live?

       “Home sweet home.”   “There is no place like home.” “Home is where the heart is.” “Take me home…country roads…” “You can’t go home again…” Ok, well maybe not the last quote, but the word ‘home’ evokes a powerful memory in all of us.  We define home as the place we are from, the place we go to when we are scared…the place that is sacred to us. 

            As we continue to learn about Evangelicals in the 21^st century, we are confronted with the second of N.T. Wright’s five questions: “Where do we live?” As we examine this question, we will see how important the concept of home is for them. 

            As we have seen, Evangelicals view themselves as the true heirs of Christ’s church, the last protectors of the true faith and the only legitimate church.  They find themselves caught between liberalism on one end and secularism on the other.  They see themselves always on the defensive and they need to protect their territory against all enemies.

            “Where do we live?” or “where is home?” is important for Evangelicals.  So where do American Christians live?

            Well…the United States…obviously…duh.

            Ok, yes, the United States is the physical home for the American evangelical church.  But it is not the physical location we are talking about…it’s the spiritual…or philosophical meaning that is truly important.

            The United States has always been important in Christian history.  The Puritans arrived here to have religious freedom (so one myth goes).  God has appointed the United States to be a ‘city on a hill’ to bring the light of Christ to the world (so another myth goes).  But there is a sense in Evangelical understanding that this country is the rightful heir of Israel in the Old Testament.   The United States is a special country, chosen by God, to be a vessel for the transmission of the Gospel throughout the world.

            Christians look to the Founding period to assure themselves that the Founding Fathers envisioned a Christian nation. The United States, the argument goes, is a Christian nation, conceived to be such.  Authors such as Peter Lillback, demonstrate that George Washington was extremely concerned to create a Christian nation.  Popular myths, such as Washington almost being killed by Native Americans during the French and Indian Wars, become evidence of God’s providence. Christian Evangelical scholar David Barton reinvents Thomas Jefferson as a devout Christian who has been deconstructed by liberal scholarship.  John Adams is summoned to talk about the necessity of the country’s Christians ethos. American history is rewritten to a Christian narrative in books like The Light and the Glory, which are taught in Christian schools and homeschools around the country.  The modern narrative is that the United States is one of the last true vestiges of Christianity in the world. It must continue to be a light in the darkness and the city on a hill.

            But the problem is that this Christian nation is under threat by the same enemies that they themselves face.  The liberals and secular powers want to make the United States into a non-Christian nation.  National issues like abortion and homosexual marriage are battlegrounds in the ever lasting war over the soul of the American nation.  If the United States continues to allow abortion or homosexual marriage, then it is evident that the United States has turned it’s back on God.  If this happens, the Gospel will suffer and many will not be able to achieve salvation.

            These issues are very important to the Evangelical church because they are directly related to the vision they have for America.   If any issue or topic can unite the hopelessly disjointed Evangelical church, it is the hope for the United States.  Evangelicals will unite around a topic like abortion because the very home they love is at stake. If the United States embraces liberalism, it will deny God and therefore forsake the very purpose of its existence.  

            ‘Battles’ over political issues reveal the true war going on in the country for the Evangelical Church.  Abortion, gay rights, socialized medicine, gun control all represent issues that threaten the spiritual and moral fiber of the country.  Evangelicals align themselves with conservative politicians and issues because these politicians represent the heroes fighting against the tides of evil.  This explains why so many Evangelicals are willing to forgive conservatives for sins while lambasting liberals for the same failings.

            For many American Evangelicals, the role of the country and the church are tied into each other. The traditional values must be adhered to, otherwise God will be angry.  Almost every year at the See You At The Pole, students around the country pray for the country and recite 2 Chronicles 7:14, “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and heal their land” (NIV).  This verse, taken out of context and applied to the United States, becomes a banner by which the Evangelical Church can unite for a common purpose.

            It is no wonder, then, that we are seeing the rise of Christian nationalism within the country. Rich Lowry’s book The Case for Nationalism provides an understanding for the Evangelical church not only to the power of nationalism but also for a purpose in resisting the cases of evil. Nationalism provides an avenue for Christians to pursue wholeness and wellness for the country that God has blessed them with. 

            Where do Evangelicals live? They live in the United States…one nation UNDER GOD…which has been called to be the special receptacle of God’s grace and the foundation for God’s kingdom in the world.  Remember that Evangelicals view themselves as the true heirs of God’s teaching…God is preparing them a special country to live in, just like he did with Israel. 

            Ideally, although they would never admit, the Evangelical Christian would like to live in a theocracy.  In fact, many already believe they do.

Who Do Evangelicals Think They Are?

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As we try to understand the current religious and political landscape in the United States, we are confronted with the question of Evangelicals. Who are these people? What do they want? Why do they support the President in such ardent, fervent fashion? To understand this question, we must apply the questions that N.T. Wright employs in his book, the New Testament and the People of God, to address the concerns of this influential group.

            The first question Wright asks, is “Who are we?” This question refers to a group’s self-identification.  Who do Evangelicals think they are?  This is apart from any external source labeling them or any reference to the truth (i.e. historical, etc). The answer helps us understand the motives and the worldview behind their behavior.

            Much like the Pharisees in the New Testament period, today’s Evangelicals believe they are the last remnant who have been faithful to God throughout history.  The church has become corrupt, especially in the teaching of the Roman Catholic church.  Therefore, the Reformation is viewed as an essential turning point in the faithfulness of God’s people (the Protestants). But now, even the mainline churches that historically stem from the Reformation have turned their back on Jesus and embraced liberal theological doctrines.  (The Orthodox don’t even come into the picture as they have largely been forgotten by the Non-Catholic Christian Church).  Now it is up to the Evangelical church to be the sole steward of the eternal truths that God has passed down from the Bible. The Evangelical Church must keep itself pure from the luring chorales of the Mass, but also the tempting call from the camp of liberal theologians.  The Evangelical church sees itself that it must keep itself pure from these teachings.

            Because of this, the Evangelical church sees itself as besieged by outside forces.  The secular culture seeks to make them conform to the principles of the world. This is most evidenced by the cultural phenomena we see like ‘the war on Christmas,’ or removing prayer from school or removing monuments of the Ten Commandments. Everywhere the Evangelical church looks, it is surrounded by enemies.  This does not lead to despair, however, because the Evangelicals are the true Church, who have remained faithful to God and God will not abandon them.  They latch onto the book of Revelation for proof that God will reward their faithfulness and will defend them from all of these enemies.   

            But the flip side of this is that Evangelicalism also finds itself falling apart in the middle.  For centuries, the doctrine of “Jesus and Me” have been preached to the point that many do not feel it necessary to be among other believers.  The first part of the fallout of this doctrine was the growth in non-denominational or independent churches. By pulling away from larger bodies, individual congregations had more freedom, but also less accountability.  While denominations used to be kept together by subscribing to documents like the Westminster Confession of Faith, now each church is free to create their own standards.  Now there is no glue holding Evangelicals together…just a vague sense of we well….we kind of agree on some stuff…but it’s not substantial and not solid enough to hold things together.

            This feeling has trickled down to the individual level.  Most Evangelicals will talk about their ‘personal relationship’ or ‘personal walk’ with Jesus because that is what matters the most.  Evangelicals see themselves, not as a ‘block’ or a ‘group,’ but as a loose affiliation of ‘Jesus followers’ who all have the same instantaneous access to God through the Bible, prayer and the Holy Spirit.  Each of them are on their own individual journey, but they are marching to the same destination, much like the pilgrims did in Ancient Israel.

            There is a sense that that a lack of cohesion or unity is missing.  Often times, an Evangelical leader like Francis Chan will try to call their followers back to a more communal experience…authentic Christianity, purpose driven Christianity, Ancient-Future Christianity, just to name a few. These movements are often very popular but very fleeting, because of the lack of glue keeping them together. And so the Evangelical Church struggles with the sense of being church.  The Bible reminds them that they must be together and united as a people, but they often times find this just out of reach and this leads to confusion.

            While this is written to interpret but not critique Evangelical Christianity, this lack of unity is a critique.  The Evangelical church finds itself fracturing more and more under the weight of their own theology. This had led to more and more Christians trying to discover, ‘God’s plan for the Church’.  House churches are starting to replace megachurches, just as megachurches replaced mainline churches.  There is a nervousness present in Evangelicalism because the future is uncertain for the movement.

            At a time when we have more people in seminary receiving MDiv’s than we have churches, we have more Bibles available to us than ever before, and everybody s

eems to be putting their opinion out there (the irony is not lost), what does the future of Evangelicalism hold? What can bring them together, what can ensure that they are able to defeat their enemies and win the day.  Well to understand that, we need to ask the next question: Where are we?  

Snowballs in Hell

It’s January 2020, and hell is freezing over. Not only do I find myself agreeing with Beth Moore, who recently called nationalism a sin (https://www.lightworkers.com/is-nationalism-a-sin/), but also with David Platt, who wants us to distinguish between Americanism and the gospel.

            It seems that the Church is in flux these days and nobody is quite sure what to make of it. The Gospel Coalition finds itself endorsing works by Paula White (https://julieroys.com/leading-evangelicals-endorse-prosperity-preacher-paula-whites-new-book/) while some conservative theologians find themselves relegated to the ends of Christendom. What is happening? What can explain some of these developments?

            The big and divisive event seems to be the election of 2016 which exposed some theological fault-lines in the Evangelical Church that were previously hidden. Many found themselves supporting Donald Trump while others found themselves on the opposite spectrum. Beth Moore, stated that Evangelicalism as we knew it died in 2016 (https://capstonereport.com/2019/12/27/beth-moore-is-still-bitter-about-donald-trumps-election/33675/).  While some view this as evidence of Moore’s bitterness about the election results, it seems that she is on to something.

            Evangelicals find themselves locked in an argument about the very nature of their identity.  What does it mean to be an evangelical? Do we know? Did we ever know? Does one have to support President Trump in order to be an Evangelical? Or does support for the President indicate a lack of theological integrity? Or does not supporting the president indicate that one has compromised the gospel and caved into the liberal agenda?

            As we approach the election cycle for 2020, we cannot imagine that these disputes will go away, but will get more intense.  As we join sides and argue amongst ourselves as to the future of the country, we need to some self-reflection and some analysis before we continue.  This year will see (probably) a slew of books about politics and election. Tremper Longman has already published The Bible and the Ballot (2020) just in time for the election.  One can expect that Wayne Grudem’s Politics According the Bible (2010) coming back into the debate. We might even see a call back to the political theologians of the past: to St. Thomas and John Yoder as we enter into a full on debate not only about the country, but about the future of the church as well.  

            For us to understand each other…and ourselves, we should go back to the questions that N.T. Wright asks of 1^st Century Judaism. His five questions are (1) Who are we? (2) Where are we? (3) What’s wrong? (4) What’s the solution and (5) What time is it? By asking these questions we can begin to understand how we see ourselves, but more importantly how we evaluate others around us.

            So I invite us to spend some time over the next few weeks to look internally as to how we answer these questions.  I will be referencing my own understanding of the Evangelical Church so we can see how we might answer these questions and grow more in our understanding of one another.

Why We Kill Ourselves

"The first duty of love is to listen" -- Paul Tillich

            As we reflect on the loss of so many of our brothers and sisters to suicide, there is so much to come to grips with.  We mourn the loss of their faces and their hearts.  We grieve the future we had together and we remember the stories and times and memories that will not fade away. But we are left with a question…the infernal question, the damnable question: Why? Why did this happen? Why did they die? Why do we kill ourselves?

            And the answers echo from all over.

            We kill ourselves because we are lonely.  We walk in the streets and pass in the hallways, but nobody stops to ask how we are doing. We hear about parties and rumors of parties that we are not invited to.  We stay late at work hoping you don’t realize there is no work to do because we cannot stand going back to our empty home filled with nothing but darkness; to sit in silence as the noises of the busy world surround us only to mock our loneliness.

            We kill ourselves because we are confused.  We often come from homes and families that barely counted as such.  We lived with parents who didn’t understand…or who simply couldn’t.  We are thrown into life expecting to know the answers but only become more lost and confused as the years add up.  How? How did we become this…this thing that is so foreign from when we started? We look at pictures of our childhood only to see a stranger looking at us from the far reaches of time. We do not see a reason to fight the plagues of life because nothing truly makes sense.

            We kill ourselves because we have lost hope.  What hope can there be in a world that only knows misery? Where do we begin to look for hope, when everybody is running after dreams that never come true? Our possible pasts tattered behind us and we know that we cannot take back the pain we have caused others.  Religion claims a new way but we see only judgment with no redemption.  The future offers…what does the future offer? The light at the end of the tunnel grows dimmer and dimmer until it offers no light at all.

            We kill ourselves because we know the truth of ourselves.  At least this is what we tell ourselves. We know our hearts and we know that we are unloveable.  We see the detest in other people’s eyes.  We hear their judgments in their words and we know that we have been found wanting. We feel their desire for other people and we know we are not enough. 

            We kill ourselves because we know that you will be better off without us.  This insipid chorus runs in our head: we have nothing to offer, nothing to share, nothing of value and nothing good.  You say this isn’t true, but we know…we know.  We have sung this song to ourselves so often that it becomes our anthem.

            We kill ourselves because we don’t know what to do with the pain.  We don’t want to burden you with it, because it should be ours alone.  And ours alone it becomes as time goes by we drift further and further away.  We see you but don’t know why you can’t see us.  We hear you, but don’t know why you can’t hear us.  We hide our pain behind jokes and laughter and we become the clowns and jesters that everybody loves but nobody knows.  Or we simply fade off to places where nobody looks.  That dull ache in our heart that we have ignored for so long comes roaring in and we can no longer look away.  It consumes our thoughts, it devours our dreams and it robs our life.  Every day becomes torture and night becomes our prison.  And…in the end…we kill ourselves because we simply want the pain…to stop. 

***if you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide, please seek help. The national suicide prevention hotline is 1-800-273-8255.  For military personnel, talk to your chaplain, your chain of command or a personal friend.  You may email me at Robert.c.price@gmail.com***

A Tale of Two Easters

It was the best of times…and the worst of times.

            I had a lot of time to reflect on worship this past week.  Holy Week can be one of the most humbling, awe-inspiring, and most passionate weeks of the year.  Or it can….you know…not be.

            One of the local start up churches was advertising for their Easter Service.  There was no Holy Week (No Maundy Thursday, no Good Friday)…just Easter.  As if we could skip those times and go straight to the joy of the Resurrection.  The service promised “dynamic worship, an uplifting sermon,” and a “cup of coffee”.  The entire advertisement was perfectly geared for the consumeristic, capitalistic, consumption based ministry that encapsulates American Christianity these days. They hoped that ‘you had a wonderful Easter experience.’

            For full disclosure, I did not attend these services.  Maybe they were completely spiritual and maybe they had moments of honest communion with God. I don’t know.  I couldn’t get my mind off the ‘complimentary cup of coffee.’

            I attended most of the Triduum with my Roman Catholic friends.  There was no rock band experience.  There was no entertainment, and there was no complimentary cup of coffee.

   I was raised Catholic and have been cut off from the Church.  But I do not remember in my childhood ever attending these services near the end of Holy Week. The three services were Maundy Thursday, Good Friday (Adoration of the Cross) and the Easter Vigil. While they did not offer free coffee…these masses offered something much more precious…Christ.

            Unfortunately I was called away from Maundy Thursday service and could not fully meditate on Christ’s Last Supper before He was betrayed by Judas.

            I was there for Good Friday.  It has been my practice for the last several years to go through the Stations of the Cross on the Fridays during Lent.  I had missed the previous one and I missed Stations the morning of this service.  While this was not the Stations, this service was focused on the crucifixion of Christ.  The altar had been stripped and the statues of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus that had decorated the church for the past few weeks had been covered up. As we went through the Gospel narrative (dramatized by the priest and several lay leaders), I was brought into the narrat

ive.  The congregation had to respond with the words of the crowd to ‘crucify Jesus’ and I heard my own voice calling for the death of my Savior. It was humbling and I once again saw the horror of my own sin.

            As the Crucifix came forward, they slowly uncovered it to reveal the statue of Jesus nailed to the cross.  As is custom, the Faithful come forward and kiss the cross.  I could not come forward.  I dared not come forward.  I was stunned in my pew as I beheld the image of my Savior.  I cried.  I a grown man in my 40s, cried at a statue of Christ as the depth of my sins came home. I could not come forward because I do not deserve the death of my Savior. I do not deserve the ability to kiss the cross which He died upon.  The Church…and churches have always been clear to me that I do not belong and I should not presume to come into the presence of the living Christ.

            We gathered the next the night for the Easter Vigil.  There were nine readings (!).  Evangelicals who say that Catholics do not read the Bible have clearly not been to a mass.  The Mass is the most Biblical worship service that exists because almost every word came from the Bible. There were no contemporary praise songs, no emotionally manipulating entertainment…just the words of Scripture as we recounted the story of God and His redemption for mankind.

            Yes there was kneeling.  But kneeling in the presence of the King was appropriate. Yes there was standing…in an almost Catholic Aerobic workout scheme…but it flowed because it was all focused on Christ.  The entire service and the entire community focused on the celebration of Jesus Christ.  They celebrated the prophesies…they celebrated the coming of the Messiah and they celebrated the bursting forth from the grave. 

            I was sorry I could not make it to the Easter mass.  I went to preach my own service…which I do not know if it was received well. I do know that we do not have the lights, we don’t have the big band…we don’t have the technology to make the service appealing for the masses.  Heck, we don’t even have complimentary coffee.

            But as I reflect back on the week…I began to realize that maybe this is what we are doing wrong.  Maybe we have our priorities screwed up.  Maybe, instead of offering complimentary coffee…and ‘dynamic’ (whatever that means) worship…maybe…just like this Roman Catholic Parish…maybe we should just offer them Jesus.   

Lent in Exile

“By the rivers of Babylon—there we sat and there we wept when we remembered Zion”

--Psalm 137:1 NRSV

 

            Lent gives us an opportunity to reflect on the darker side of biblical faith.  After all, it is a time of mourning as we prepare for the joyous celebration of the resurrection and new life.  And before we get to the celebration, we must go through the desert and examine the themes of grief, loss, guilt and exile.  This year I find myself particularly drawn to the biblical texts about Exile.

            Exile.

            The Biblical Exile happened when the Babylonians invaded Judah around 586 BC and captured the best and the brightest and brought them to live in Babylon.  They had to live apart from their home.

            Away from their families.

            Away from their friends.

            Away from home.

            It is a particularly cruel punishment because at that time transportation wasn’t easy and more than likely the Israelites who left were never going to be able to come back.  They would never see their families or friends or home again. They would never know what happened to those they cared about. 

            They were forced to live in a foreign land, where they did not speak the language and they did not know the customs.  Anybody who has ever spent time in a culture different than your own knows what it feels like to not fit in.  When you don’t speak the language, when you don’t know the customs and when you don’t understand the culture, there is a loneliness that cannot be explained.  You are outside.  You are other.  You are alien.  The Israelites never overcame that feeling.

            A biblical scholar once said that “Exile is not not having a home.  It is having a home but never being able to get there.” You can imagine home.  You can remember home.  You can almost see home, but you can never get there.  You can see the place where you belong, where you fit, but will never arrive.  Even though the world around you may be filled with wonderful people, places and foods, you are never home.  Even in your happiest moments  you know something is missing.

            Those of us who have spent a lot of time away from home can catch a glimpse into this feeling.  Although for us it may never reach the level of the ancient Israelites, the power of Exile can affect us in ways.

            We go on deployment to new countries with a new crew and we feel the power of Exile from everything we once knew.

            We get a diagnosis of cancer and we can feel the power of Exile stripping from us the power of normality.

            We leave our parents and childhood home, never to return, and go off into the world and you look back and sense the power of Exile.

            As I reflect on my own experience, I have to admit that this is where I live.  My situation is not as bad as others, but exile affects me every day.

            I can see home through pictures and messages and Facebook, but I can’t be there.  This weekend my son lifted his head for the first time and I could not be there.  This weekend is a huge celebration for my family (St. Pat’s is always big in my house) and I will not be there.  I will see the messages and the pictures and make the phone calls, but the physical presence of being home…of being where I belong…is gone.

            This is not to say that I do not have great people or great things out here in Japan…but it’s not home. I live in a (for me) foreign culture where I do not speak the language and where I cannot get the cultural norms right.  Even though I love Japanese food and art and the landscape, I am not home.  I work for a great team, but I am not home.  Even in my best moments, there is a pervasive loneliness and sadness that echoes in my heart: I do not belong here.  I belong at home.

            So as I continue my Lenten journey, I will think about these things.  I will sit by the rivers of Babylon and weep.  Because, I, like the Israelites, live in Exile.