Not long ago, our Roman brethren celebrated the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and yesterday was the commemoration of Our Lady of Guadalupe. This got me thinking. I am not a typical Mary-bashing Protestant, being an Anglican evangelical. However, I have many reservations about those practices that are not grounded firmly in Scripture. I can affirm the Virgin Birth (talking about Mary being a virgin at Christ's conception), but not the perpetual virginity of Mary. I can say the Magnificat in the Daily Office, without wondering if I am giving too much focus on her. I can affirm that in some way the prayers of the martyrs (a la the Apocalypse) are in continuity with heaven and earth, without embracing a full on cult of the saints, and certainly with no pretensions in the direction of Mary being acclaimed Coredemptrix. There was an interesting paper about the place of Mary put out by the Anglican Communion/Roman Catholic dialogue, which I must admit not reading in its entirety. Certainly the life and faith of Mary is commendable, and Protestants generally do not give her enough credit. Many esteem Calvin, Wesley, and Luther to the same degree many Roman Christians hold Mary.
So here's a cyber-pint to Mary this Advent and Christmastide. May light perpetual shine upon her, as with all the faithful departed. Let us remember what amazing young woman she was a Godbearer. May we likewise bear the presence of God in the fullness of the Holy Spirit as a witness to the world.
12/13/2008
8/20/2008
Conflict and Sacrament
The news is always consumed with conflict--Iraq, Georgia, Afghanistan, the Anglican Communion, the ramp-up to the November election. Where is God to be found in this? Marcion was a heretic who denied a loving God could stomach much less instigate conflict. Yet we are remiss in our biblical and theological understanding if we do not look to reconcile the "war" imagery of ancient Israel with the "peace" imagery made known in Jesus Christ.
First, it is incorrect to find the opposite of peace in violence. The opposite of peace is anarchy, or theologically, the absence of God's rule. Violence is a tool. Some things need to be destroyed, swept away, overcome. I take antibiotics to destroy infection-causing bacteria. I sweep my house and use various cleaners to stem the build-up of dust and debris that would make my home a haven for insects and vermin. The difficulty arises when fallen human beings make use of so dangerous a tool as violence. Which is why we must never use words carelessly or take actions indiscriminately. I am not God, but I seek his direction to know when violence is needed, and know when violence is never justified.
Second, peace can only ultimately be accomplished by God himself. As much as I pray to be an instrument of peace, and as much as I pray for God's kingdom to come on earth, I know that what I can accomplish is limited. All is dependent on the Holy Spirit's carrying out of the salvation made real through Jesus Christ according to the will of the Father.
Third, God never backs down from a fight, but he doesn't always use violence to achieve peace. The ultimate example of this is Christ's self-abasement and sacrifice. Christ is the perfect model of restraint, but Christ's insistence to us to "turn the other cheek" is accomplished by Christ himself. That means it becomes more difficult to discern God's will in a given situation. Perhaps, pacifists are correct as a general rule of thumb, but as Dietrich Bonhoeffer discovered, there are circumstances that demand violent action to bring peace.
Fourth, understand that conflict is not eternal. As ubiquitous as fights are, as longstanding some hatreds carry on over the generations, they all must end. El Salvador, once ripped with sectarian violence, has former enemies celebrating the weddings of their children with one another. They basically, as a nation, just stopped killing. People eventually tire of fighting, and creative solutions to conflict that mirror God's heavenly rule emerge. Is this common grace? Does this point to perhaps a sacramental pain made accessible by violence that causes us to strive for peace? Is the violence that was experienced, as tragic as it is, the necessary precursor in some instances of a cleansing by blood of people's hearts--not in terms of vengeance, but to make them ready to accept peace?
I am still remain unconvinced of pacifism, though for me there is an attraction to the kind of logical consistency it carries. But life, as I've seen it, is a dirty, unpredictable business. And while I believe there are underlying foundations and principles that must guide our approach to conflict, originating in God, the fall-out of sin makes for a much less identifiably consistent outcome and means of approach.
So practically, I see how violence, as a neutral creation, can be used for good ends or ill. I also look to see how God might be using all means redemptively in the midst of conflict. In humility and prayer, I do what I can as best as I perceive it to minimize and squelch the conflict. Finally, I remember that conflict is temporary, and the longer I keep it on life-support, by action OR inaction, the worse it typically is for everyone involved. It's a less-than-perfect ethic for a less-than-perfect world, but I trust that God will forgive my shortcomings as I continue to seek him and live according to love.
First, it is incorrect to find the opposite of peace in violence. The opposite of peace is anarchy, or theologically, the absence of God's rule. Violence is a tool. Some things need to be destroyed, swept away, overcome. I take antibiotics to destroy infection-causing bacteria. I sweep my house and use various cleaners to stem the build-up of dust and debris that would make my home a haven for insects and vermin. The difficulty arises when fallen human beings make use of so dangerous a tool as violence. Which is why we must never use words carelessly or take actions indiscriminately. I am not God, but I seek his direction to know when violence is needed, and know when violence is never justified.
Second, peace can only ultimately be accomplished by God himself. As much as I pray to be an instrument of peace, and as much as I pray for God's kingdom to come on earth, I know that what I can accomplish is limited. All is dependent on the Holy Spirit's carrying out of the salvation made real through Jesus Christ according to the will of the Father.
Third, God never backs down from a fight, but he doesn't always use violence to achieve peace. The ultimate example of this is Christ's self-abasement and sacrifice. Christ is the perfect model of restraint, but Christ's insistence to us to "turn the other cheek" is accomplished by Christ himself. That means it becomes more difficult to discern God's will in a given situation. Perhaps, pacifists are correct as a general rule of thumb, but as Dietrich Bonhoeffer discovered, there are circumstances that demand violent action to bring peace.
Fourth, understand that conflict is not eternal. As ubiquitous as fights are, as longstanding some hatreds carry on over the generations, they all must end. El Salvador, once ripped with sectarian violence, has former enemies celebrating the weddings of their children with one another. They basically, as a nation, just stopped killing. People eventually tire of fighting, and creative solutions to conflict that mirror God's heavenly rule emerge. Is this common grace? Does this point to perhaps a sacramental pain made accessible by violence that causes us to strive for peace? Is the violence that was experienced, as tragic as it is, the necessary precursor in some instances of a cleansing by blood of people's hearts--not in terms of vengeance, but to make them ready to accept peace?
I am still remain unconvinced of pacifism, though for me there is an attraction to the kind of logical consistency it carries. But life, as I've seen it, is a dirty, unpredictable business. And while I believe there are underlying foundations and principles that must guide our approach to conflict, originating in God, the fall-out of sin makes for a much less identifiably consistent outcome and means of approach.
So practically, I see how violence, as a neutral creation, can be used for good ends or ill. I also look to see how God might be using all means redemptively in the midst of conflict. In humility and prayer, I do what I can as best as I perceive it to minimize and squelch the conflict. Finally, I remember that conflict is temporary, and the longer I keep it on life-support, by action OR inaction, the worse it typically is for everyone involved. It's a less-than-perfect ethic for a less-than-perfect world, but I trust that God will forgive my shortcomings as I continue to seek him and live according to love.
6/13/2008
Sacramental Pain
Perhaps one of the most disconcerting issues for Christians is how they are to address pain and suffering. We find promises in Holy Scripture about how God blesses His children with health, long life, wealth, and respect. At the same time we find the stories and psalming cries of those who suffer and are yet faithful to God. How is this to be reconciled?
This past Sunday I had the opportunity to preach on the story of Abraham and the Three Visitors and Romans 5 (using the lectionary readings). And without re-preaching, let me summarize to say that God uses suffering in a redemptive way. Suffering, as much as it seems to contradict what God expresses as His benevolent desire for our good, can be a wonderful opportunity to grow as we walk in genuine trust. Jesus Himself bore the tremendous grief of torture and crucifixion, and with that all the agonies we each endured, are enduring, or will ever endure--all out of love for us.
The truth of God's redemptive experience and permission of suffering can seem carrion comfort at the time. But if we allow God's love to become our focus, realizing that God Himself is present in our pains, manifesting grace often in a way mysterious to us, we open ourselves to receiving that pain sacramentally. It's then we begin to see the process St. Paul describes of moving from faith, to perseverance, to character, to hope, to its fruition in eternal life--and God's loving grace, His very presence, is there with us each step of the way.
This past Sunday I had the opportunity to preach on the story of Abraham and the Three Visitors and Romans 5 (using the lectionary readings). And without re-preaching, let me summarize to say that God uses suffering in a redemptive way. Suffering, as much as it seems to contradict what God expresses as His benevolent desire for our good, can be a wonderful opportunity to grow as we walk in genuine trust. Jesus Himself bore the tremendous grief of torture and crucifixion, and with that all the agonies we each endured, are enduring, or will ever endure--all out of love for us.
The truth of God's redemptive experience and permission of suffering can seem carrion comfort at the time. But if we allow God's love to become our focus, realizing that God Himself is present in our pains, manifesting grace often in a way mysterious to us, we open ourselves to receiving that pain sacramentally. It's then we begin to see the process St. Paul describes of moving from faith, to perseverance, to character, to hope, to its fruition in eternal life--and God's loving grace, His very presence, is there with us each step of the way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)