I Had To Unsubscribe

I had to do something today I've tried very hard not to do.  Having a church-based e-mail address and being known as a Lutheran pastor I often get e-mails from various groups discontented with the ELCA and various theological decisions.  Usually these come from organizations with different initials wanting to proclaim themselves the new and correct Lutheran church.  I don't agree with 85% of what these e-mails say and even the relatively true 15% usually gets messed up by the way they're trying to use it.  But that's exactly why I keep reading.  We all need new perspectives on faith and theology, even when we disagree with those perspectives.  How else can we learn if we never read anything that doesn't confirm what we already know? So every few days I slog through one or another of these e-mails, trying to get a handle on what they're saying, trying to understand where they're coming from.  I also try to remind myself that even though they're cloaked by official-sounding initials, somewhere a real person wrote this.  No matter how hard it is I think of this as a dialogue between two people instead of a polemic by an institution with an ax to grind using my mailbox to work out their frustration.

So far I've succeeded pretty well, but you know what?  Today I had to give up and unsubscribe from one of these unsolicited newsletters.  (I had never asked for it in the first place, mind you.  They just put my church-sounding e-mail on their list.)  This missive wasn't particularly worse than any of the rest of them.  I'd just had enough.  Personally I couldn't take it anymore.

I'm the biggest proponent of open theological discussions, tolerance for other people's points of view, and living amid disagreement as you'll find.  But here's the deal.  If your discussion starts out from the point of view that everybody else but you is wrong and "incapable of preaching God's word truly" because they don't see things your way, you're not having a discussion anymore.  That's an assault.  It's degrading, demeaning, self-serving.  Truth be told, it doesn't matter who the other person is you're speaking with.  They might as well be a random brick wall.  It's not going to change what you're saying or how you're thinking.  It's not a two-way street.  You've dehumanized them to the point they might as well not exist.  Their only ticket back to being a real human being in your eyes is them agreeing with and accepting you.  Ironically enough I don't think scripture calls us to agree with or accept any human being--even the wisest--as the ultimate, unimpeachable authority.  That role is filled by God alone.  Arguments predicated on your point of view being the only correct one are thinly-disguised idolatry.  It may be idolatry of your own opinion, your own reasoning ability, your culture, your family, the way you grew up, the people who taught you...it doesn't matter.  It's still idolatry.

It's super-duper ironic when this idolatry comes from people claiming to have and speak the only true word of God, whom they are summarily replacing.

I don't even know how to describe the depth of irony when these same people call themselves "Lutheran".  Anybody who took our course on Luther and his reforms will understand why.

So, anyway, forgive me.  I couldn't take any more assaults or idolatry today.  So I hit the "unsubscribe" button.  I'm sure I can find other people to disagree with me and broaden my horizons.  I just hope they do it in a more honest, open, and Godly manner.

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)

Next Music Night Tuesday, March 5th at 7 PM

Did you know that most rock songs are based on three chords? Musicians call these songs 3-chord wonders. It turns out that a 3-chord wonder in the key of C will use the chords C, F, and G. Come to the next Music Night and we will try our hand at playing some 3-chord wonder rock songs using the bass, guitar, keyboard, and drums. If you don't want to listen to Patrick sing Louie Louie, Hang On Sloopy, or Wooly Bully, then bring your vocal chords as well as your fingers and we will try ZZ Top's Jesus Just Left Chicago.

Rock on!

Monday Morning Sermon: God's Desire

The text for the Second Sunday of Lent came from the 13th chapter of the Gospel of Luke:

31 At that time some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.”
32 He replied, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will keep on driving out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal.’ 33 In any case, I must press on today and tomorrow and the next day—for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!
34 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing. 35 Look, your house is left to you desolate. I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

The key line here is Jesus' expression of passion for his people.  "Jerusalem, how often I have longer to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing."

From the beginning of all things, from Adam and Eve through Abraham, Moses and the Israelites, kings David and Solomon, God's will has been the same.  His singular purpose has been to bring goodness to his children:  love, grace, beauty, peace.  How he has longed to gather us!  That will never change.

But look in this gospel.  Jesus is surrounded by people and things opposed to that mission.  King Herod, the Pharisees (don't be fooled by their "helpful" warning, they wanted rid of him), demons, sickness, even the people of Jerusalem who should have been the most shining examples of all.  Everyone and everything resisted, fleeing from the goodness that God intended.

It's easy to see this happening in the historical gospel.  It's harder to realize this gospel being replayed in our own lives.  We are so busy nowadays.  Our days, moments, lives are filled with a series of never-ending priorities:  school, work, sports, chores, hobbies, TV shows, parental responsibilities, and so on.  We have more things to do than any generation ever has.  Even our leisure moments are timed, regimented, scripted.

Each of these things brings its own definition of goodness:  winning a ball game, completing a chore, getting an "A".  The more time and passion we invest into the activity the more its definition of goodness defines our lives.  Fewer of us mess with an overarching, reasoned concept of goodness anymore.  Instead our definition of "good" is "getting all my stuff done in acceptable fashion".  "I had a good day" means "I got things done and didn't mess up too badly."

Running through a hundred different things in a day we also serve a hundred different definitions of goodness.  None of them are completely good.  For every winning ball club there has to be a losing one.  With each game completed another looms on the horizon.  We cannot find complete goodness through any of our activities.  But we settled for a hundred incomplete versions stacked on top of each other and call that good...if nothing else through quantity.  If you can't get a nutritious, delicious meal a hundred snack baggies consumed hurriedly will still make you full, right?

Where is the room for God here?  I wonder what kind of reception he'd get if he showed up personally in the middle of our chaos?  Likely we'd welcome him until he offered a definition of good that came into conflict with whatever one we were pursuing at the moment.  Then we'd treat him like the Pharisees did.  "Hey Jesus, go ahead and take off.  I'm kind of busy here..."

One can imagine God standing among all of us and saying, "Genesee, Genesee, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing!"  When even the good things in life distract you more from true goodness, what's left except to shed tears and mourn.

The Lenten season is important as a time of reflection.  We stop, slow down, admit our inadequacies, admit that we can't even see true goodness on our own, let alone know and embrace it.  Our vision is bent towards other things.  We lament this along with Jesus and we pray fervently that he would guide us into goodness...not ours, but his.  We ask him to chase his chicks anyway, even as we continue to scurry around the barnyard without a clue.  We pray that his holy wings enfold us and keep us safe, not just from the world but from our own desires.

Take a moment to do exactly that today.  Pray that God will lead you towards real, complete goodness and help you to show that goodness to others.  Pray that he will break your life and its habits even as he broke the power of possession and sickness among those ancient people.  They pray that he will remake it in his image, leading you onward to salvation through his grace.

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)

Welcome Basket Reminder!

This Sunday we're looking to fill THREE Welcome Baskets for new neighbors in town.  We'll take anything useful, particularly if it's homemade!  Bring your basket items to church or drop them by the parsonage this week.

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)