A Faith Statement

 Recently I was asked whether I believe in an afterlife. The apparent reason is that my preaching and writing focus pretty much on living a Christ-like life here and now. Still, the question is valid, and I will address it.

I will restrict my comments to what I find in Scripture, setting aside what others may have “found” (sic) in Scripture. In particular, I will set aside the eschatological model created by John Nelson Darby (an attorney; not a biblical scholar) in the mid-nineteenth century, and the spinoffs from his model. The spinoff versions[1] vary greatly; nevertheless, they all are dependent on Darby’s work and together constitute the default eschatology accepted, albeit uncritically (in many cases I would even say assumed), by the overwhelming majority of Christians today.

I find no evidence that Darby’s model, nor any part of it, was articulated prior to his creation of it less than two centuries ago. Nor do I find any earlier eschatology that takes unrelated texts from as varied sources as Ezekiel, Daniel, Matthew 24, Luke 17, I Thessalonians 4, et. al., and dumps them randomly into Revelation like a boy rolling his marbles across a hardwood floor. Revelation is complete and can stand on its own as is. It needs no help from Ezekiel or Paul or the rest.

That being said, there can be little doubt that the New Testament projects some manifestation of a transcendent, eternal existence characterized as utopian perfection (an anthropomorphic assumption) lived in the full, conscious awareness of God’s presence.

Two factors pretty much form the basis of my understanding of that existence as presented in Christian Scripture. First, the language is from Jewish messianic hopes that emerged in the post-exilic era (5^th and 6^th centuries BCE). Those hopes had a distinctive military and political quality of empire, with an ultimate hope for a world dominant kingdom. That didn’t happen under Jesus.

Christians do see Jesus as the fulfillment of Jewish messianic hopes, but in a way totally unexpected by Israel. Within today’s dominant Christian eschatology, Jesus’ role as Messiah was all about individual salvation through faith in him as the qualification for heaven after death. But there will be a “second coming” in which things will be different!

 In today’s default Christian eschatology there’s little focus on issues of justice and peace here and now because it is understood that nothing can be done until Christ returns to fulfill Israel’s original messianic expectation. For now, it’s virtually all about getting into heaven and being nice until Jesus returns.

The people of Israel, on the other hand, continue the original hope, even as a secular nation of Israel exists separate and distinct from that hope.

Christians have joined in that some-day hope of a world-dominant kingdom headed by a returning Jesus, but into that hope they have inserted ancient apocalyptic imagery that projects a cosmic, metaphysical quality that inspires post-apocalyptic movies and video games. I find nothing in the Christian Scriptures to validate such a scenario except metaphorically.

It is the abundance of metaphor that is the second factor that informs my understanding of biblical eschatology. The metaphors are rich and powerful, so long as they remain metaphors. Once they are squeezed into some conjectural literalism, they take on a fantasy quality. John Dominic Crossan’s quote comes to mind: “My point, once again, is not that those ancient people told literal stories and we are now smart enough to take them symbolically, but that they told them symbolically and we are now dumb enough to take them literally.”

The metaphors are necessary because what they communicate is a reality that transcends not only time and space, but also the human capacity to comprehend. In simple terms, God’s promise of "heaven" (again, a metaphor that has taken on anthropomorphic literal qualities) will exceed anything we can imagine, even when our imagination is based on metaphoric streets of gold and walls of diamond.

The metaphors are so rich and powerful that I have no illusion I can comprehend or even imagine their fulfillment. But I trust God for that unknowable eternity.

Having trusted in the faithfulness of God’s promise, and having accepted Jesus as the Way, the Truth, and the Life referenced in that promise, I leave it in God’s hands. Now I am free to follow Jesus’ Way, Truth, and Life here and now: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40). The current obsession among some Christians to figure out all the details is a distraction from our calling thus to follow.

Beyond what I can control here and now, whatever God has in mind will come to pass, it will surpass anything I can anticipate, and none of my pondering (or yours) will influence when or how it will happen.

Let’s, while we wait, be about imitating Christ in our personal and community lives.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Including, but not limited to: Hal Lindsey’s Late, Great Planet Earth (I have met and interacted with Lindsey, and I admire and respect him as a Christian. I just disagree with his eschatology), the Left Behind series of novels by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins. There are other expression of today’s dominant Christian eschatology.

The Gospel in a Teacup: A Theological Perspective

     I think it was Martin Luther who said John 3:16 is “The Gospel in Miniature”. It’s also been called “The Gospel in a Nutshell”. While I affirm that characterization, such a condensation is like coming in at the middle of a movie. The Gospel is not an isolated truth. It is expressed in the culmination of centuries of an evolving relationship between humanity and humanity’s Creator. That evolving process must be delineated, or it will be assumed. And you know what “they say” happens when we assume.

The alternative, however, is clumsy and cumbersome. If we pause to lay out our assumptions and reassemble the context of every discussion, most discussions will lose momentum and coast to a stop before any significant conclusion is reached.

Without that cumbersome setup, however, the outcome of any significant conversation is predictable; indeed, we live that outcome most days of our lives: we end up with Democrats and Republicans and Libertarians and Tea Partiers—and Baptists and Catholics and Presbyterians and Quakers and Methodists and . . .

Gratefully, we still have options. (1) We can choose to respect and honor each other in our differences, and even to harvest an occasional pearl of wisdom and faith from our brothers and sisters and cousins with whom we differ. (2) We can assume our assessment of truth is absolute and deny any credibility on the part of any who dare disagree. From there, we can (2a) ignore or shun those who differ; (2b) contend with those who differ and try to persuade them to our perspective; (2c) try to destroy those who differ. Sadly, 2c is rapidly becoming the modus operandi of many persons and groups whose identity is grounded rigidly in any specific ideology.

For all these reasons I will need a container somewhat larger than a nutshell if I am to offer any summary perspective on the Gospel. There are Scriptural hooks upon which I hang my summary, and I will gladly share them upon request.

* * * * *

Humanity is created in the image of its Creator. This imago dei (divine image) includes freedom of choice. In granting free choice, our Creator freely, voluntarily and intentionally became vulnerable. Our Creator completely understood and accepted the risk that humans could choose ways inconsistent with the desire and purpose that motivated creation in the first place.

That desire and purpose was a fulfilling, loving relationship between Creator and creature. As the poet caricatured, “God said, ‘I’m lonely. I’ll make me a man.’”[1]

Our Creator set everything up; providing every necessity to sustain meaningful, purposeful life and relationship in an idyllic setting of pleasure and comfort. The Creator also established boundaries which, if honored, would insure the continuation of that pleasure and comfort and meaning. Within those boundaries was the revealed path toward full and abundant life and relationship with the Creator.

But the boundaries were permeable. Humanity had freedom of choice, without which no relationship is possible.

The boundary was a tree. Whether the tree was literal or metaphoric is irrelevant; indeed, it morphs into virtually unlimited images. For a toddler, it may be the burner on a stove and the related warning, “Hot!” The tree was called “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” Key word is “knowledge.” Perhaps the tree was a personification of the question, “Why?”

I don’t know if physics can have any correlation with theology (Astronomer, Carl Sagan, at least found a spiritual kind of awe in his work). A basic observation in physics is “for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”. In human life and relationships natural consequences accompany every enacted choice. Most often those natural consequences are predictable: “Touch the burner and you’ll get burned.” “Hot!”

Predictable! But, how many toddlers heed adult advice regarding the “Hot!” burner?

We want to “know”. Instead of accepting the Creator’s loving provision and boundaries, we shift our focus to the persistent question, “What if I get it wrong?” Instead of accepting life as gift, we try to prove our worthiness: self-justification trumps grateful acceptance. Every time.

So here we humans are: sewing fig leaves together to hide our nakedness (which for some reason we assume is evil), hiding in the bushes and fabricating strategies calculated to escape responsibility and accountability for our choices. The “blame game” doesn’t work any better now than then; nevertheless, it remains the best humanity has been able to come up with.

And here is our Creator, “OK, you’ve chosen a different path than I laid out for full and abundant living. Let’s go to ‘Plan B.’ Let’s get you away from that tree; and since you want to feel useful, take some of my creative spirit and till the soil to produce your own food.”

When we humans choose a different path, our Creator is the master of improvisation, and provides everything necessary to redirect our path back toward the full and abundant life our Creator continues to offer and eternally desires for us.

Essentially, that’s the “Gospel.” That’s the “Good News.” We humans make choices that are not consistent with the Creator’s way of full, abundant living. Our different idea never works as we anticipate. But, the Creator is always with us, improvising a detour back to the Creator’s more productive path to fulfilling, loving relationship with the Creator and with each other.

The gospel has been played out again and again in virtually every generation, in virtually every individual life. The Bible is a faithful witness to that divine human dance: an accumulation of testimony and counter-testimony through generations of the Creator’s people as they struggle with their freedom of choice, living out the natural, predictable consequences, but always with the gracious offer of choosing the Creator’s improvised detour back to abundant life.

That gospel was ultimately lived out and demonstrated in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. There are multiple theories (called “atonement theories) explaining how the life of Jesus manifested the Creator’s improvised detour, and how we humans can become reconnected (reconciled) with the revealed path toward fulfilling, loving relationship with the Creator and with each other.

But virtually all atonement theories are extensions of the original human need to “know” the “right” way. The goal of virtually every atonement theory is to codify what is “right”, thereby guaranteeing (perhaps even obligating) the Creator’s acceptance and justification of our life.

The historic result has been to shatter the body of believers and to set them against one another.

The Gospel—the Good News—is that the Creator’s improvised detour is not of our devising; nor does it require our assent or understanding. Like every manifestation of the Creator’s love, the detour is provided as gift, personified in the life of a man who said, “Follow me.” In essence, the intention and effort to heed that call and to follow Jesus is, itself, an expression of faith and, finally, the enactment of the “right” choice.

Thanks be to God, Creator of all that is, Redeemer of all that is broken, and Sustainer of all that is holy!

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[1] James Weldon Johnson, (1964) [1927], God’s trombones: seven negro sermons in verse (hardback), Douglas, Aaron Ill; Falls, CB lettering, New York: Viking .

Guns Don't Kill

 “Guns don’t kill; people kill” is the mantra of the population for whom the “right to keep and bear arms” takes precedence over virtually all human life, which is really ironic, since the overlap with the “right-to-life” population would include most of both groups. The second amendment trumps right to life.

In my relatively small field of vision, nobody disagrees with that mantra.

“Thoughts and prayers” is the throw-away dismissal of the cult of the Second Amendment.

In my relatively small field of vision, nobody agrees that that’s enough.

In my view there are two factors that render the guns-don’t-kill mantra irrelevant and impotent. First, there is no effort, nor is there any apparent intention, to do anything to identify the people who do kill and restrict their access to guns.

Guns don’t kill; however, the love of guns, and the parallel unwillingness to mitigate the unregulated and virtually total access to guns by essentially anybody with the funds to do so is totally irresponsible and uncaring; furthermore, it is undeniably the greatest single contributor to the senseless mass slaughter of so many innocent and unsuspecting victims and to the grief of their families.

The second factor is the selective ignoring of the initial qualifying phrase of the second amendment so that the second half, viz., “the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed” is the sole focus of interpretation. The first half is totally ignored, even though numerous respected legal minds have pointed out its qualifying impact on the amendment. Hence, “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State…” is not considered an important part of the amendment.

By Definition in 18^th century syntax (1791, when the second amendment was established) a militia consisted of live-at-home civilians who went about their private and family affairs, and were not billeted in an established military compound or assigned duties of a military nature; nor were they issued uniforms or firearms or other military equipment. Training was minimal at best. They were called up in emergencies, at which times they provided their own firearms.

The necessity of a “well-regulated militia” has long been supplanted by the establishment of a full-time standing military consisting of Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard. Supplemental units (Reserves and/or National Guard) are subject to being called up and activated. Again, however, these supplemental units, when activated, are billeted in a military compound and are issued all necessary equipment, including firearms.

As defined and understood in 1791, the United States has no militia nor any need of one; therefore, it can be argued that the second amendment is archaic and has no applicable base in the twenty-first century.

All that being said, I have no desire to prohibit the possession of firearms by people who are mentally and emotionally stable and are not prone to substance abuse or irresponsible or impulsive behavior. Hunting, collecting, and competitive shooting seem, to me, the only valid and reasonable use of firearms by civilians.

Home security is a popular justification for firearms; however, multiple statistics document that one is more likely to be killed by natural disaster than by a home intruder or personal attack; indeed, persons who keep firearms in their home are more likely to die by gunfire than those who do not. In fact, the lesser-known, private tragedies that occur in homes accounts for substantially more deaths than do mass shootings.[1] The “security of a free state” that made necessary the keeping and bearing of arms in 1791 referred to a militia responding to a call to arms and engaging in fixed battles against an opposing threat to national security.

Arming school personnel has proven virtually useless in preventing school shootings, and even has been counterproductive in some cases.[2]

Finally, I am drawn to one word in the initial qualifying statement of the second amendment: “A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State…” My attention is drawn to the word, “necessary.” To what extent are guns “necessary?” While it may seem an irrelevant question, especially to gun enthusiasts, it does seem relevant to the interpretation of the amendment.

Nevertheless, while I consider the second amendment as it is written to be basically irrelevant to twenty-first century application, it’s here to stay. There’s simply no way it will ever be rescinded or even amended.[3]

Until the proponents of gun ownership (and that would include me; although I don’t own a gun and don’t want one in my home) shift focus from the guns that don’t kill to the people who do kill (for the benefit of those who are being killed), blood will continue to run in our streets and in our school hallways.

That’s the way it looks through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk

Jim

 

 

 

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[1] One of may documentations of my comment: Owning Guns Puts People in Your Home at Greater Risk of Death | Time

[2] Again, one of many documentations of my comment: Guns in Schools | School Safety Resource Center (colorado.gov)

[3] There are two ways to rescind a constitutional amendment requires a two-thirds vote of both houses of congress (which ain’t gonna’ happen!), and ratification by three-fourths of the states. That means 13 states could defeat the motion to rescind. I can name twenty states that would vote against rescission. The second way to rescind an amendment is convene a constitutional convention, which would require two-thirds of the states to call for one. The amendment is iron-clad safe.

The Need to Be Right (or for Others to Be Wrong)

  Can we talk?

Is it just me, or does it seem that, in general, Christianity has evolved into a matter of who’s right and who’s wrong? Even among the theological elitists, there is almost a smugness in finding something "wrong" in someone else's witness. 

Maybe it’s always been that way. The New Testament Gospels, written in the last half of the first century partly responded to heresy. The epistles, written a generation or so earlier, even though they were primarily personal letters addressing practical questions, also addressed foundations of doctrine and confronted “false teachings.”

Peter and Paul, the primary influencers of the first generation of the church—Peter in Jerusalem among Jewish converts and Paul throughout Turkey, Greece and into Rome, working among Greco/Roman converts—carried on a bitter disagreement until it was resolved at the Jerusalem Council (cf. Acts 15). What we learn through their dispute and its resolution is that Christianity is adaptable; it touches people where they are with no prerequisite hoops to jump through in preparation to receive our “right” doctrine.

The infamous Inquisitions and Crusades of the Middle Ages, and even the Protestant Reformation itself, all were intended to punish heresy and infidelity and to extend “correct” doctrine.

So, maybe the greatest heritage of Christianity from the beginning is conflict over who gets it right and who gets it wrong.

More primal is the question of “ultimate reality” and my/our relationship with it: Who gets in and who gets thrown out. Calvinism, in particular, focused more on what is considered “wrong” than on what is considered “right.” The emphasis was on who gets in and who doesn’t, and Calvin made it pretty darn difficult to “get it.”

Bottom line, it all goes back to the Garden and the “fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” Why would “the man” (adam in Hebrew) want to “know” good and evil? He was in paradise with everything provided, including a mutually gratifying mate.

But there was the tempter: “You’ll be like God, knowing good and evil.”

Hmmmm. "If I 'know,' I’ll be in control (like God). I can do good and avoid evil and thus, by my own initiative, can control my own destiny." But what happened instead was the introduction of doubt: “What if I get it wrong?”

From that moment (one understanding of original sin?), the history of humanity has been a desperate sense of alienation from self and from ultimate reality, and a related search for assurance that I’m getting it right. Faith says, “Just trust God’s word that you are loved and accepted.” But the opposite of Faith is not doubt. It’s knowledge. And it is knowledge that produces doubt, because with knowing comes unknowing--an awareness of the limits of our knowledge; thus, “What if I get it wrong?”

So, my hypothesis is that the right/wrong dichotomy that drives the divisiveness in humanity (including the church) is a manifestation of original sin: the need to know and the rejection of trust.

And one human myth says the way to be assured that “I’m right” is to label those who disagree with me as “wrong.”

What we learn through Luke 9:49-50[1], Mark 9:38-40[2], and Philippians 1:15-18[3] is that even those who teach a different doctrine are affirmed in their witness by both Jesus and Paul[4]; therefore, can be affirmed by us.

What if we simply live as if we truly believe what we say we believe, viz., that “God did not send the son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.” (John 3:17)? Did God fail in God’s purpose? Do we really believe that “through him” (Jesus) we are made at one (atoned) with God and with each other; indeed, with ourselves?

Was God only partially successful in God’s intention that “the world through him might be saved?” Could God not save some because God had set up rules that have to be followed—hoops through which we have to jump—as prerequisites to realizing success? Wouldn’t that put the burden on us, rather than on the grace of God? Or is grace selective? Does grace exclude? Is grace insufficient to cover all our faults and errors?

How would we relate to another person who disagrees with us if we experienced no need to prove him/her wrong? How would we relate if we had no need to prove ourselves right? How would we relate if we trusted that our relationship with God and our eternal destinies (and the other person’s relationship with God and eternal destiny) are functions of God’s grace and not of our being right?

At another level, when you judge whether another person’s faith is wrong, does that exercise bring you closer to God? Do you experience God’s presence in the act of assigning right/wrong absolutes on others—or yourself?

I suspect you’re somewhat like me: you’re more likely to feel a divine presence when you live and relate as if you truly believe what you say you believe, and exercise that belief, not through comparing doctrine or theology, but through an imitation of Jesus, who did not come to condemn the world…

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

 

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[1] “John answered, ‘Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him because he does not follow with us.’ ⁵⁰But Jesus said to him, ‘Do not stop him, for whoever is not against you is for you.’” (NRSVUE)

[2] “John said to him, ‘Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him because he was not following us.’ ³⁹But Jesus said, ‘Do not stop him, for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. ⁴⁰Whoever is not against us is for us.’” (NRSVUE)

[3]  “Some proclaim Christ from envy and rivalry but others from goodwill. ¹⁶These proclaim Christ out of love, knowing that I have been put here for the defense of the gospel; ¹⁷the others proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely but intending to increase my suffering in my imprisonment. ¹⁸What does it matter? Just this, that Christ is proclaimed in every way, whether out of false motives or true, and in that I rejoice.” (NRSVUE)

[4] A particularly cogent observation, since one recent right/wrong discussion regards the influence of Paul on current understandings of Jesus. Some say current Christianity is more a reflection of Paul than of Jesus, and that Paul misleads the faith (read: “is wrong”). I’m only just discovering that argument, and am not yet informed enough to weigh in.

 

God, Give Me Patience! Right Now!

 

Sunday I preached from II Timothy 4:1-6, a part of which reads, “I solemnly urge you: ²proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage with the utmost patience in teaching. ³For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound teaching, but, having their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own desires ⁴and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander away to myths.[1] 

Patience. On the contrary, I grow impatient with a subculture that is increasingly proud of its inhumanity—a subculture that dresses up rudeness and cruelty as sacred and treats kindness and compassion as weak and unchristian—a subculture that insults  and characterizes kindness as “Snowflake” and “Bleeding Heart.”

Last week, I was horrified watching some manifestations of that subculture of inhumanity shipping exhausted migrants to other areas of the country in brazen acts, not only of political posturing and vengeance, but also of outright cruelty. And one of their number appeared on television boasting, “That’s just the beginning.”

Beyond the acts themselves, I’ve grown impatient with, as John Pavlovitz puts it, “…the theological and mental gymnastics so many professing Christians have engaged while trying to justify traumatizing already traumatized people.”[2]

 And the shameless disregard for humanity is increasing, both in frequency and in severity, and so is my impatience. (Sorry, Paul.)

The saddest part is that up front, leading the pack, are people who are confessing Christians! How did they miss the more than 500 times the words, “kind,” and “kindness,” are used in the Bible to describe God’s relationship to humanity and, therefore, God’s expectation of the creatures created in God’s own image? How did they miss the crystal clear message in Micah 6:8, “What does the Lord require of you but do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God?”

“Yeah, but…” They rationalize and justify their inhumane behavior not on the basis of faith or Holy Writ, but on assumed-but-undocumented threats  and/or some mythical and unbiblical standard of worthiness. They whine about “illegal aliens,” and then take away the legal means by which immigrants can enter our country.

How can they justify their selective inhumanity as professing Christians while ignoring Jesus’ injunction to “love your enemies?”[3]

Of course, if I am totally honest, I must ask, “What if I’m the one who’s wrong?” Maybe I read something wrong when Moses says, twice (Exodus 22 & 23): “You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.”

Maybe I miss something when I read twice in the same chapter of Leviticus (19:33, 34): “The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the native-born among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.”

Fourteen times in Genesis Abraham is described as “an alien in Canaan—an alien in the land of the Philistines.” And as Moses is preparing the Israelites to enter the Promised Land after their Exodus from Egyptian bondage, he instructs them to use as a part of their liturgical life the confession, “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien…” (Deuteronomy 26:5 NRSVUE)

Am I missing something? Am I wrong when I apply that same principle to White, Anglo-Saxons in America? Were we not aliens in 1620?

Whether I’m right or wrong, I have not seen or heard a word from the culture of inhumanity regarding any of the Scriptural teachings about the treatment of aliens and strangers. Moreover, I don’t expect anyone from that subculture to read this blog; therefore, I’m guessing I’m “preaching to the choir.” But I will not be consenting in my silence.

Paraphrasing and adapting Pavlovitz from his blog referenced above, I wonder where professing Christians in that subculture see Jesus in deceiving and shipping frightened migrants to Blue areas of this country; I wonder how they can “celebrate with joyous middle finger defiance” using human beings as some sort of prop in political posturing and vengeance.

Rather than a basis in ethics, morals, or Judeo/Christian Scriptures, the rationalization from the culture of inhumanity appeals to the fears and underlying hatred (not our “better angels”) of anyone who is “different.”

In contrast, I saw Jesus in the response of the people in Martha’s Vineyard, as they recognized and responded to the common humanity of those lost and confused migrants and received them with open arms and open hearts. People in Martha’s Vineyard (some claiming faith and some not) understood that empathy is the only redemptive path when people are hurting and abused and treated like pieces in some revolting political game.[4] It no longer is about “faith” or politics. It’s about common humanity.

And the people in Martha’s Vineyard challenged me in my growing impatience. And through their example I heard the voice of Paul saying, “Teach this. Just teach this and be patient. Teach this and turn it loose. Teach this and have patience and faith to believe that the Word will not return to you void. Just teach this:

“I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me...” (Matthew 25:35)

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

[1] All Scriptural quotes are taken from the New Revised Standard Version, Updated Edition (Chester Heights, PA: Friendship Press, 2021)

[2] How The Religious Right Made Cruelty Sacred and Compassion Unchristian (johnpavlovitz.com)

[3] Twice in the Gospel of Matthew and Twice in the Gospel of Luke!

[4] Again, adapting thoughts from John Pavlovitz’ blog cited above.

Weighing in on Student Loan Forgiveness

 

OK, I’ll weigh in on the loan forgiveness debate, knowingly subjecting myself to the abuse of those who disagree (just as I’ve witnessed those who agree with me abusing those who disagree. Why can’t we have civil discourse anymore? Why can we no longer discuss issues, and instead attack each other? Why must any disagreement deteriorate into a bout of juvenile sibling name-calling?)

I think I understand a lot of the resistance to President Biden’s student loan forgiveness plan. Basically, there’s a juvenile sense of unfairness. I get that; and a part of me empathizes. I paid off my student loans; why does this generation get a free ride? Right? One counter argument is the inequity in the tax system, favoring the rich and the corporations. That also is unfair. Where's the outrage?

A significant number of legislators who oppose $20K student loan forgiveness have had $6-figure PPP loans forgiven. That’s unfair. I couldn’t have been forgiven my $28K automobile loan! There’s far too much unfairness going around, and it’s a valid complaint, and it impacts the entire left/right liberal/conservative spectrum, and I don’t have a better idea.

Some are severely burdened by huge high-interest student loans, while others (like me) have no serious problem paying them off. That also carries a level of unfairness—or at least inequity; nevertheless, the inequity is acknowledged and reflected in the indexing of the loan forgiveness to the income of the debtor.

Another inequity relates to race. Loans to students of color carry a higher interest rate than loans to white students, while black college graduates earn significantly less income than white graduates in the same vocation. That’s unfair.

But here’s the thing: my confusion relates to the tremendous amount of SELECTIVITY regarding which unfair practices are criticized and which are acceptable. Case in point: Vouchers for charter schools are our tax dollars paying for private school education and used to pay private investors in those schools. But tax dollars to cover higher education is a plot by commies and socialists. [Side bar: the matter of selectivity—hypocrisy?—makes up a major difference between the left and right on virtually every issue, and selectivity may be the only bi-partisan element within our political system!]

A major oversight in the student loan forgiveness debate (I’ve not seen anyone from either side of the debate make this point) is that education is not solely the benefit of those who are being educated. There is ample documentation that a culture/nation benefits in direct proportion to an increased level of education within the population. Across the board, the fact is that individual financial benefit to a college graduate is much less today than it was a generation ago, while the cost of education has increased significantly. Documentable statistical trends show that American culture in general has diminished as the educational level had diminished.

I favor free public education through a four-year undergraduate degree or any trade or vocational certification. I favor it for the reason above: the whole nation benefits from a higher level of education and/or vocational training within its population. And since the public—the whole nation—is the major beneficiary, it’s not unfair to expect the beneficiary—the public—to pay.

The issue for me is the transition. How do we get from our broken and declining education system to a free, high-level system like we see in so many other nations who have surpassed the United States in so many ways in the past generation? By “broken and declining” I mean the trend toward sectarian, partisan indoctrination instead of presenting all sides of every issue and teaching the discipline of critical thinking so educated people can make intelligent choices. What I suspect won’t be admitted by those who disagree is that when all sides are presented and critical thinking is applied, the documentable trend always moves toward a more liberal outcome. THAT, I suspect, is the tap root of the debate.

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

Shortcut to Easter

 

People want to move directly from Palm Sunday to Easter. Even before the pandemic, Maundy Thursday services were poorly attended in most churches; and Good Friday services are virtually unheard of, except, maybe, in the Roman Catholic and some Episcopal Churches.

            The music of Good Friday is dark; heavy with minor harmonies. It's not happy praise music. It's not Easter music; it's about the crucifixion of our Lord; so, people want to take a shortcut from Palm Sunday to Easter—stay in the sunlight and avoid the shadows of Holy Week: the confrontation with the merchants who had commercialized the Temple, the controversies with the religious leaders of the city, the open criticism and plotting against Jesus, the betrayal of Judas...

            The loud "Hosannas" of the Triumphal Entry and the excited "He is risen!" of Easter are separated by the cries of the rabble in the streets: "Crucify him!" Between the Palm Branches and the lilies are the thorns. The praises and cheers of the crowd give way to the mockery of concocted charges, and the cloaks thrown in his pathway are replaced by the sting of the whip, the burden of the cross, nails and a spear.

            We'd rather avoid the darkness. In fact, North American culture in general has become, not so much an Ayn Rand seeking of pleasure as a Pollyanna avoidance of unpleasantness—not so much moving toward Easter as going around Good Friday—looking for a shortcut.

            Through Christ God offers "LIFE"—abundant and abiding. Humans respond, "Bless the life I've already chosen, and make my chosen path easy and fruitful and full of lasting happiness and pleasure."

            God says, "I give you life." Humans say, "God, here's what I want from you."

            God says, "I give you my Son." Humans say, "God, give me financial security and lots of time for recreation and travel and kids who are good athletes and good students and popular in school."

            God says, "What I offer is infinitely better." Humans respond, "Yeah, but I don't have time; I've got to go here and do that and take the kids there and just look at my calendar, God.  I’m stressed out and I just don't have time."

            Today’s culture wants Easter—oh, and Christmas—but fears the cost. But without Good Friday, Easter is just a "fairy tale"—a shallow celebration of bunnies and fuzzy chicks and colored eggs.

Resurrection means nothing unless someone dies.

And therein lies the "Good News". Someone already has died. But you know that. And I keep coming back to a verse I remember from Paul: “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.” (I Corinthians 15:19 NRSV)

I don’t think that’s our problem. One of the contradictions in Christianity today is the avoidance of “this life.” I have a good friend who’s a pastor in another denomination who won’t have anything to do with the democratic process in our nation. “I won’t vote,” he says. “There’s no point. None of the social problems we have are going to be worked out until Christ returns.”

Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “But Jesus wasn’t crucified because he preached about going to heaven when we die. He was crucified because he called upon the wealthy to feed the hungry. He was crucified by law and order allied with religion, which is always a deadly mix. Beware those who claim to know the mind of God and are prepared to use force, if necessary, to make others conform. Beware those who cannot tell God’s will from their own. Temple police are always a bad sign. When chaplains start wearing guns and hanging out at the sheriff’s office, watch out. Someone is about to have no king but Caesar.”[1]

Will Willimon wrote in his blogsite, “Peculiar Prophet,” “I remember being at a retreat once where the leader asked us to think of someone who represented Christ in our lives. As we shared, one woman stood up and said, “I had to think hard about that one. I kept thinking, ‘Who is it that told me the truth about myself so clearly that I wanted to kill him for it?’”

According to John’s gospel, Jesus died because he told the truth to everyone he met. He was the truth, a perfect mirror in which people saw themselves through God’s own eyes. And we humans don’t want to see ourselves as we are. We want to see ourselves as we fantasize: superhero/super model/super mom, and “right” about everything. We don’t want truth; we want confirmation.

What happened then is happening now. In the presence of Christ’s integrity, human pretense is exposed. In the presence of his faithfulness, human self-deceit is brought to light.

And so, he must die. The world wants him dead: Caesar wants him dead, and Caiaphas wants him dead, because he refuses to confirm the way of life they have chosen, and they refuse to look into the mirror of truth with which he confronts them.

Resurrection means nothing unless someone dies. New life is costly. Its price is the rejection of all that contradicts the abundant life Jesus preached, lived to the fullest, and offers to all humanity. But we are limited by the clay of which we are made, and so Paul writes, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.” (I Corinthians 13:12 NRSV) In view of these limitations, the poet writes, “The world is too much with us.”[2]

Resurrection means nothing unless someone dies. But Sunday’s coming!

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Truth to Tell,” from “The Perfect Mirror,” copyright 1998 Christian Century Foundation., 89-92.

[2] William Wordsworth, a sonnet.