Thursday, May 22, 2014

Walking the Christian Talk....



One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, he asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?”   Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one;  you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’   The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.  (Mark 12:28-31)

For Christians, according to our Patron, the second greatest Commandment is to "love your neighbor as yourself."  Suffice it to say that, upon observing the behavior of the vast, diverse group who self-identify as Christians, this seemingly simple directive appears to be a daunting challenge indeed.  Further, it would seem that those who profess to follow Jesus Christ should try to emulate His example.  Here, too, this ostensibly simple calling proves far more challenging in practice.  As Gandhi noted, “I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians.  Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.


Why are we Christians so unlike our Christ?


Well, the first reason is an obvious one, that we are not, as we were taught to believe, fully divine or the Son of God as he was, so we aren't capable of emulating him fully.  Perhaps.  As Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong has noted, what made Christ so transcendent was his full humanity, that he gave himself away at every turn, seizing every opportunity to be loving and life-enhancing.  And as second century Bishop of Lyons St. Iraneus observed, the glory of God is man (i.e., human beings) fully alive.  Jesus was certainly fully alive and a vessel for the Holy Spirit to be made manifest in our world during his earthly life.  Accordingly, His example is an eternal one, both in the sense that it endures throughout the ages and in the sense that it serves for all time as a cardinal example of a life well-lived.


Yet, again following Bishop Spong, can't we (more consistently) choose to live fully, love wastefully (as in giving ourselves away lovingly and unconditionally as Jesus did) and be all that we can be?  I believe so ... which is why so much of so-called Christian behavior troubles me, both historically speaking and contemporarily.


The historical examples are legion, so at the risk of giving them short shrift, I will cite a single illustrative example and move on.  The Inquisition of the Middle Ages now appears to us to have been an extended and immoral example of religiocentrism.  Some Christians in positions of power took it upon themselves to determine what were the acceptable practices of the faith and then enforced these views repressively and inhumanely for hundreds of years.  Their sense of religious exceptionalism even led them to consider themselves the sole arbiters of the path to God, which led them to persecute not only those Christians whom they considered to be heretical but practitioners of other "false" faiths as well.  Countless lives were sacrificed by the self-selected Elect in the name of (the Christian) God.


(In its modern incarnation, such inhumanity in the name of God is the cause of extremism and terrorism of all types, from "Christian" paramilitary groups and abortion clinic bombers to Islamist jihadists, etc.)


Today, especially in the United States, we find ourselves with a widening gap of opinion (or, if you will, fraying consensus) with respect to the practice of our faith.  On the one side are the Christian fundamentalists and literalists who insist on the inerrancy of Scripture, profess to espouse "conservative" or "family values" and claim any number of religiocentric views on behalf of their perception of the Christian God.


On the other hand are the Christian liberals and progressives who are only now beginning to respond vigorously to the re-definition of American Christianity successfully pursued by the Religious Right in the past half-century.  This group is more inclusive and accepting by nature, so its views are more varied as is its approach both to its faith and to the dialogue within and outside of the Christian community.  This diffusion has not served it well historically as the designation of "Christian" is most likely to be associated with fundamentalism and not liberalism today.  As one friend put it a few years ago, based on the behavior of some of the more proactive fundamentalists of today, she doesn't like to identify herself as a Christian because it's not typically considered to be a positive reference in the collective consciousness.


Why would anyone be embarrassed to be a Christian today?


Well, because of the frequent and visible behavior patterns of many other self-identified (and mostly self-described conservative) Christians, which, to many, appear to be the very antithesis of the Patron's example.  One viewing of the documentary Jesus Camp will acquaint the reader with a vivid example thereof.  And it's hard to know where to start when considering the twisted mixing of pseudo-Christian moralism and our modern political process.  That we even have a concept that has enjoyed great notoriety in recent years called the War on Women, led ostensibly by self-described conservative (Republican) Christians (who are also apparently all male), is another such example.  That they would presume to legislate the behavior of their sisters in Christ without the latter's engagement is another frightening example of how twisted the use of our faith has become.


Yet, the example on which I would like to focus most is that of our treatment of the poor, the less fortunate, the other, the different among us.  Suffice it to say that one of our major political parties has made great hay by vilifying these groups, inciting a distrust cloaked in pseudo-Christian hypocrisy that is almost hard to describe in its depth and breadth.  How anyone could see cutting social welfare benefits for the least fortunate or giving tax breaks to the billionaire owners of corporations whose employees are paid so little that they rely on those very same benefits as being reflective of - much less being motivated by - Christian faith is beyond my and many others' comprehension.  The poor are seemingly demonized at every turn now, yet weren't they Jesus' special focus during his lifetime?


Many of us understand our Christian calling as to be joyfully charitable - meaning inclusive, loving and giving - to those who are less fortunate and/or somehow different or (incorrectly/inhumanely but invariably considered) 'lesser'.  As Jesus was recorded as saying in the Gospel of Matthew:


"Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me."  (25:40)


Based on this and numerous other similar statements attributed to Him, it would appear that Jesus expected something much different from us than we now often see.


And when this calling is interpreted in our political realm, it seems to become all but perverted completely.  In fact, many of the policies advocated by so-called religious or social conservative leaders and politicians seem to be the very antithesis of the Patron's charge to us.  That the Christian faith is associated with the support of the status quo and protecting the privileges of the few (i.e., the wealthy and powerful who control and benefit disproportionately from it) is only recently being contested vigorously in our societal dialogue, as abhorrent and antithetical as it may be to some.  Wasn't Jesus executed precisely because He contested the corrupt and oppressive established order of his day?  What would He do in today's world?  Somehow I can't see Him hangin' with the Plutocrats....


So how do we become better Christians?


The answer may lie in not becoming better Christians, actually, but by striving to be what Rev. Dr. Obery Hendricks calls "Followers of Jesus," people of faith who are committed to emulating Jesus' example in the profession and practice of their faith.  Followers of Jesus (or, as they were known in the first century, Followers of The Way) are loving, inclusive and community-focused as was their patron.  They are not concerned with creating a (rule- and dogma-defined) religion or an (institutional) church or with accumulating wealth and power in this earthly life as much as they were concerned with the communal welfare of all and with sharing with each other in uplifting and mutually beneficial ways.  (Yes, they would indeed be labeled "socialists" in today's enflamed and exaggerated political climate.)


Another way is to engage more proactively in (non-judgmental) service.  Jesus's entire public ministry was about service.  He literally gave himself away by being loving to all, including/especially the dispossessed of his time.  In fact, it was his anti-establishment approach that led to his death by crucifixion when he had become too big a thorn in the side of the Jewish ruling class (and their Roman patrons).  Perhaps not to the point of sacrificing ourselves - a worthy goal, to be sure, but not one that the majority will consider seriously nor to which it will commit - but certainly giving of ourselves individually and collectively more than we do should be our goal


A third and final way that I'll suggest is to practice inclusion proactively.  Certainly Jesus did this during His lifetime.  He associated, broke bread with and healed Jews and others, especially those on the lower rungs of the oppressive social order of His day.  What would happen if, rather than recoiling from those we don't know or whose culture or faith we don't understand, our first inclination were to engage in dialogue rather than judgment?  Would we all get together and sing Kumbaya as the world's problem's floated away?  Probably not.  But would there likely be a much greater understanding between and among the world's peoples and thus a stronger basis for relating and collaborating in mutually beneficial (and peaceful) ways?  Absolutely.


And that's the point: if we overcome our human nature to exclude, recoil from and judge negatively "the Other" and practice Jesus' example of loving inclusion and community instead, the world will indeed be a better place ... and we will be far better Christians....






Sunday, May 11, 2014

A Momma's Boy's Meditation on Mothers' Day....



It's Mothers' Day, that annual celebration of all things maternal and, for many, that one day of the year in which we try to live up to being (and/or make up for not being) the son or daughter that we can and should be.  And yet, we are comforted by the reality that, for most of us, our moms - some of whom gave us life and others of whom helped to 'raise us right' - will still be (forgiving and) proud.

Mothers' Day is always a bit of a challenge for me now, especially since my own mother passed on almost two decades ago.  Mainly it's faintly painful because of the regret that it brings back to my consciousness: I regret that my mother did not live to see me enter adulthood fully and, most importantly, to meet her three diversely-gifted, crazy and wonderful (now teenage) grandchildren.  So, knowing, loving and honoring her in remembrance as I do, I am left to smile as I am sure that she would at observing what her love and my attempts to live up to it have wrought: we are an unusual bunch, to be sure, but I am sure that she would revel in her family, a reflection of her love that will echo eternally through and beyond us....

And I am also reminded of regret in another way: on this day in particular, I am anguished by my numerous failures to be the son that I could and should have been while my mother was alive.  Other days of the year, I remember the delight that I often engendered in her and the love that both protected me from the world and inspired me to seek to make my way in it that I received from her.  (To this day, I'm convinced that the truism is indeed true: there's nothing as unconditional as a mother's love.)  And I continue to be grateful for her love as it lives on in and through me long after she left me/us/this world physically (and too soon, to be sure).  But on Mothers' Day - which, in a personal sense, is Mother's Day - I am more reminded for some reason(s) of those times that I disappointed her.

Like the only time that I remember her ever reprimanding me physically, when, as a somewhat cynical teenager, I suggested to her that her much beloved pastor was a "hell raiser" because of my disdain for his fire and brimstone oratorical style.  No, the slap wasn't very painful, but the shock was.  To this day, I remember the horror of feeling so disappointed in myself that I would be so unkind to my mother that she was moved to reproach me so viscerally.  (I also remember the look of horror in her eyes that bespoke of the regret for her appropriate but reactive action.)  Though I believe that we should carry few regrets in life - after all, who of us can change the past? - I do wish I could get a 'do-over' for this unfortunate mistake.

Or the time about a decade later that I didn't call her for Mothers' Day until late that night.  I had been helping a friend move into a new home and - in the era before ubiquitous cell phones - had made the decision to wait until I returned home to call her.  (To make a long story short, I knew that the delivery of her gift had been delayed but didn't realize that  my friend's move would prove to be much more involved, take much longer than expected and, nor that, since my friend didn't yet have phone service, I wouldn't have the opportunity to call during what turned out to be the day-long endeavor.)  When I did reach out to her - at approximately ten o'clock at night, a time that was normally at or just past her bedtime - she was hurt and disappointed and let me know it.  She wasn't harsh, just candidly honest, bluntness that I had probably never experienced as fully with her until then ... and I'm still ashamed almost three decades later that I hadn't prioritized her better.  The only good news to come from this was that I learned my lesson after this sole mistake: never again did I fail to get her gift to her in a timely fashion nor did I miss another morning opportunity to help her start her special day feeling as treasured as she was then (and is now).

Thankfully I have a few positive Mothers' Day experiences to salve the continuing psychic wounds of my missteps:

Like the time when - sometime in the period between ages 6 and 8 - my father gave me a little money and told me to get my mother a gift for Mothers' Day.  I was really proud of what I picked out - some sort of cosmetic thing - a case, perhaps? - as I remember it - and the thing that makes me chuckle now is the irony inherent in the situation: if my memory is correct - and I admit that it may not be, this having been more than four decades ago now - I think that it was my mother who took me to J.L. Hudson's department store to buy her gift.  (Every day, as I am reminded of this and so many other examples, I thank God that my mother invested so much time and energy in developing me in my youth, especially teaching me what being a gentleman truly means as well as how to rise above my father's example of a rather casual approach to such recognition, et. al., opportunities.)

Or the time that I drove home to surprise her for Mothers' Day.  She really appreciated this as it was during my freshman year of college and it was to have been our first Mothers' Day apart.  I couldn't get many things by my mom, but this was one mutually delightful and successful example.

So, as I reflect on these memories and moments, the reality that I miss my mother's loving presence makes itself known more painfully than I'd like to admit.  Almost twenty years later, I still miss my mother, her warm and welcoming presence and her inspirationally unconditional love.

So I cloak and salve this ache by focusing my own children on honoring their mother today (a situation that is a tad more complicated now that we are divorced).  And I focus on passing on that legacy that I learned so many years ago from their paternal grandmother: that though I think of her and try to make her proud every day, on at least two days a year - her birthday and Mothers' Day - I want to be sure that through whatever gestures and representations of love, she knows just how much she has meant, means and will mean to me throughout my life.  I have endeavored to achieve this during the remaining decade of her physical life (after that horrible 'missed Mothers' Day' incident) and ever since.  I would like to believe that her spirit knows and is buoyed by this even now ... and even more gratified by knowing that her grandchildren are being raised to be thoughtful, honorable and contributory people, too.

In this spirit, then, I wish you all a Happy Mothers' Day and hope that, in addition to recognizing her today, you, too, find every day's effort to make mom proud as rewarding a gift of love as the countless ones with which she has gifted you....