The Root of All Heresy

For those of us in the church, we have learned to regard the words "heresy" and "heretics" as bad words, of the four letter variety, from which to stay far away. Often these heretics can be demonized and the church has a wicked history of, not just breaking communion with them (which is warranted) but of killing them (which is not warranted). While heretics are rarely killed anymore, they are certainly still demonized, to the point that we assume that someone who is a heretic is an evil person.

History shows us, however, that this is simply not correct. In point of fact, most heretics were holy men and women, just as devout and just as zealous for the truth as those labeled orthodox. Heretics rarely disregard the Word or call into question its inspiration. Where then does heresy come from, if not from the disregard of God's Word? It comes from a misinterpretation of God's Word. Bad interpretation of Scripture is the root of all heresy. As St. Irenaeus in the late second century wrote in the preface to his monumental work against the Gnostic heresies: "They falsify the words of the Lord and make themselves bad interpreters of what was well said."

This is a warning to us to handle the Word with care, lest in our devoutness we are lead astray with some of the heretics of old. As we read, we need to look to our Fathers and Mothers in the faith for clues on how to interpret and to pray that the Spirit be with us as we read. There is power in the Word to change us, if we read it in accord with the boundaries given the church. For the same Spirit that gave the church the Word also gave her the means to interpret it well.

Thoughts on Joining a Church

This morning Julie and I became members of Trinity Pilgrim United Methodist Church in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, a community about 15 minutes away from our apartment. It is a small, church with two adult Sunday School classes, a men's choir, a handbell choir, a youth group that is trying to get on its feet, and an elderly pianist/organist who has been a member since she was confirmed. It lacks many of the amenities of "modern" churches. The pastor never has a power point with his sermon, in fact the sanctuary lacks the ability for it. He simply stands in front of the congregation without a note in hand and speaks. There is not a professional sounding praise band leading worship, complete with interpretive dancers. This morning we sang Charles' Wesley's classic: "O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing" with a simple piano background. And there are not a thousand different programs, but they do have several key ongoing service projects which are making a difference in the community. But you may ask, what drew us to this church? For many of the things this church lacks are the very things that our culture (and particularly people of my generation) are convinced grow churches. We were drawn to this church for two specific reasons: 1) the congregation is a family, a true fellowshipping body; and 2) the pastor preaches from the Word of God.

We were immediately embraced by these people, and not in a desperate sort of way, with looks which said: "you young people are our last hope!" They remembered our names, they remembered things we had asked them to pray for, they remembered to shake my left hand. When Julie would miss church for work, they made room at their tables for me. It was in general a warm atmosphere of Christian love which, additionally, witnessed to a large segment of God's kingdom: people of several different races attend as well as people of different socio-economic statuses. Yet all are welcomed at the table of fellowship.

The pastor speaks from the Word. He understands the nature of God as a God of love with a heart for His people and a desire to commune with them. He understands that God cares for the poor and the underprivileged and that the people of God ought too to care. This aspect always is emphasized in his sermons, which are neither fluffy nor full of jokes. He uses his time deliberately and he uses it well. For he tells the story of the people of God in a way that connects to us today.

Furthermore, we saw areas in this church where we felt that our giftings could make a true contribution. I think that Julie and I will be getting involved with the senior high Sunday School class. We ask for your prayers in this endeavor. In short, we are really excited to be at Trinity Pilgrim UMC and believe that God has great things prepared for us there.

As good as professional musicians and power point sermons and thousands of programs are in a church, they are not, in my opinion, what ultimately grows the church. They might attract a lot of people, but attracting a lot of people is quite different than growing a church. To grow a church, people need to hear the Gospel from the pulpit and see it lived out by the people in the pews. We believe we have found a place where this is happening and we pray that we will be able to contribute to its life.

Christ and the American G.I.?

I recently read an email forward with the following claim: "The only people who were willing to die for you were Jesus Christ and the American G.I." Despite the forward's obligatory promises of good fortune if I passed it on and the threats of great calamity if I failed to, I did not pass it on for I find the statement extremely problematic.

In the first place, I just don't think it is true. I would like to think that I have a few friends and family members who would be willing to die for me. I believe that I am willing to die for them should the occasion arise. I do not say this out of pride and sincerely hope it is not taken that way; I say it out of the change wrought in me by Christ. For his definition of love and friendship is nothing short of this: "This is my commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." -John 15:12-13; "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers." -1 John 3:16. If it is true that the only people willing to die for me other than Christ are American G.I.s, than only American G.I.s have fully understood the radical love Christ witnesses to. This is hard for me to believe for many reasons, not the least of which is the simple fact that not all American G.I.s are Christians.

The second, and more compelling, reason that I did not send the forward on is that I think the comparison between the work of Jesus and the work of an American soldier is a horrible one which severely misunderstands (at best) or undermines (at worst) the Gospel message. After all, the soldier rushes to war with a gun, killing all those who did not happen to be born in America. The soldier does all he can to stay alive and if it is between he and another guy (particularly the enemy), it is going to be the enemy who dies. These are the brutal facts of war and no one blames the soldier for this type of mentality - this is the job his country has asked him to do.

The work of Jesus was completely different. Jesus came peaceably, preaching a gospel of peace and restoration and freedom (from sin) for all people, not just those who happened to be born in a specific geographical location (and certainly not only for Americans). Jesus preached the turning of the other cheek, the walking of the extra mile, the loving of one's enemies. When he was called upon to fight, he refused and chastised his disciples for defending him with the sword. And he healed the ear of the very man who came to arrest him. He submitted to immense suffering and death, never once striking back. In short, he lived and modeled his gospel of peace and displayed for us the only true means toward restoration. The only comparison which is merited is the Christian martyr who willingly dies for being a follower of Christ (which continues to happen throughout the world), or perhaps the person who dies on behalf of a friend. Which if you remember, Christ expects of us all.

The Relevant Tradition

From the earliest days of the church, two seemingly paradoxical characteristics have marked the Christian faith: 1) an abiding concern for tradition and finding one's identity and story in the community that has gone before; and 2) an abiding concern for spreading the gospel to peoples and cultures who have never heard it before. These characteristics, equally important, have often been the source of tension, for the question always arises: how does one make the faith relevant and understandable to new generations and cultures without sacrificing what is distinctive about that faith?

There have been times when the church has succeeded in the struggle. The New Testament writers are the prime example. Their beloved tradition, the tradition and story out of which Christianity grew, was the story of Israel. And as the pages of the NT reveal, this story was fully embraced and carried on by the first Christians. The church, in struggling to identify herself, looked back into her tradition. Thus, Peter, writing to his church of Gentile converts says this: "But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession . . ." (1 Pet 2:9). These four images are lifted straight from Israel's Scriptures, former descriptions of Israel now applied to the church.

Yet the NT writers, in looking back to tradition, were not imprisoned by it. After all, the language of Israel's Scriptures was Hebrew, but no common person (least of all the Gentiles) knew how to read Hebrew. Thus, the NT is written in Greek, the language that everyone knew. These tradition filled documents, full of imagery garnered from Israel's story, is presented to the people in a new medium, one which they were able to understand and, as a result, the Gospel spread quickly in those first generations. When Greek fell out of use in the West in the second and third centuries, the Scriptures were translated once again into the common language (Latin).

Unfortunately, there have also been times when the church has failed at this struggle. For centuries in the middle ages, the church kept the Scriptures locked away from the people by refusing to allow it to be translated from Latin (though no common person read or spoke Latin by this time). Church leaders had begun to confuse its tradition (the story of the Scriptures) with the form of that story, the Latin language. And incredibly, it persecuted those first brave souls who dared to translate the Latin Bible into the common language.

In our generation, it is evident that the same struggle goes on. While language might not be the focal point, the question remains vital: how do we make the faith understandable without losing its content. While the church in the middle ages erred on the side of tradition (thus failing to make it understandable to the people), I fear that many in our generation have erred on the other side. There are many examples today of those who would remove everything distinctive about the Christian faith so as to make it more attractive. A few examples:

1) The Old Testament is often hidden away as the dirty little secret. Instead of going to the effort of understanding what actually was happening in those pages, many preachers just skip over it and preach solely from the New Testament, if even that. But the loss of the Old Testament is the loss of a significant part of our story. In fact, the early Christians would have found a Christian faith without the Old Testament unintelligible. If we knew our story better, I suspect we would feel the same way.

2) The names of God are being changed. Instead of Father, Son, Holy Spirit, many are opting for titles like "the Divine" or "Sophia." While the intent behind these name changes is not necessarily bad and often times good (namely the concern for the marginalization of women in a patriarchal faith), I am not sure that changing the names of God revealed in Scripture is the best way to go about this. After all, I believe that Jesus reveals God as primarily a Father and he is best understood in the terms of that Father-Son relationship. To lose this metaphor is to lose a significant part of a traditional understanding of God.

3) My brother tells me that there is a church in his town which is considering removing all crosses from their premises in order to make it a more welcoming environment. Here is a church who has forfeited too much of tradition to make the faith more attractive. But if the cross has to be removed to do this, my question is what story are they teaching, what story are they living. A faith without the cross is not Christian. (One wonders if there would have been more resistance to the removing of the American flag from that church.)

This struggle is a necessary one, for as Christians, we are a people who are defined by our story, by our past. And yet we are commissioned to take that story to the world, to the world that does not speak our language. How are we to do it?

The Sword of the Spirit

"Nothing can so banish licentious habits from the soul and restrain memories which disturb and stir up troubling flames in the body as can avid devotion to the love of learning and searching investigation into the meaning of the passages of Scripture."

-St. Isaac of Nineveh

Lion or Lamb? (Part 2)

A somewhat more helpful metaphor involving a lion and a lamb (see Part I) is found in Holy Scripture. Our Savior Jesus Christ is likened to both animals in various places. The ascription "lion" is often modified with "of Judah" and it comes originally from Genesis 49, where the Patriarch Jacob is pronouncing blessings upon his sons prior to his death. He has this to say of his son Judah: "Judah is a lion's whelp; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He couches, he lies down as a lion, and as a lion, who dares rouse him up? The scepter shall not depart from Judah . . ." Judah is the tribe of Joseph, the father of Jesus. Thus, through the kingship of Jesus, the prophecy that the "scepter shall not depart from Judah" is fulfilled. The imagery is first applied to Jesus by the writer of Revelation: "and one of the elders said to me: 'Stop weeping; the Lion that is from the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has overcome so as to open the book and the seven seals" (5:5). To call Jesus the Lion of Judah is to refer to his kingship, his worthiness to be king, and the protection which he offers his people.

We have an example of this in the lectionary reading for today, Luke 13:31-35: "Just at that time some Pharisees approached, saying to Him, "Go away, leave here, for Herod wants to kill You." And He said to them, "Go and tell that fox, 'Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I reach My goal. Nevertheless I must journey on today and tomorrow and the next day; for it cannot be that a prophet would perish outside of Jerusalem. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not have it! . . ."

In these verses, Jesus calls Herod a fox, evincing his craftiness and his desire to pick off sheep from the flock. Nevertheless, Jesus with the courage of a lion does not stray from his destination. Rather, he sets his face toward the city for he knows that unless he complete his work, rulers like Herod will forever rule and there will be no salvation for anyone. The Lion of Judah continues on to Jerusalem.

But there are also many places in Scripture where Jesus is referred to as a lamb. John the Baptist is the first to call him this, recorded in John's Gospel: "The next day (John) saw Jesus coming to him and said, 'Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!'" (1:29). The Baptist is, of course, drawing on imagery with which his hearers would have been instantly familiar. He is referring to the Jewish sacrificial cultus, the system which prescribed animal sacrifices for the forgiveness of sins. The shed blood of a pure lamb, the Israelites believed, would atone for their sins and thus assuage the wrath of God. The Baptist, before Jesus even begins his ministry, recognizes that Jesus is that pure lamb.

Interestingly enough, the writer of Revelation again picks up this imagery. The seer describes the first time he sees Jesus in his vision: "And I saw between the throne (with the four living creatures) and the elders a Lamb standing, as if slain . . ." (5:6). The English translations miss what I think the Greek portrays; a better translation might be: "a Lamb standing while slain." The point of this vision is that Jesus in heaven is a slain lamb. But that quality, namely that he has been slain, is the very quality that allows him to open the seals, that earns him the title "Lion of Judah."

We see this imagery, again, bear fruit in today's lectionary reading. Jesus heads to Jerusalem, we noted, with the courage of a lion. However, he indicates in the reading the manner in which he will save His people, and it is not an image of a conquering lion. Rather, he says: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem . . . how often I wanted to gather your children together, just as a hen gathers her brood under her wings." Jesus likens himself to a Mother Hen! But I ask, what good is a Mother Hen in the face of a prowling fox? The only means the Mother has of saving her chicks is to offer herself as the fox's meal in lieu of the chicks. And this is exactly what Jesus does.

John's vision of the slain lamb in heaven forever reminds us that while it was the courage of a lion that led Jesus to Jerusalem, it was the sacrifice of a lamb which redeemed us.

Lion or lamb? (Part I)

We learned in kindergarten that March often comes in like a lion, but then goes out like a lamb. And then there are those great years where March comes in like a lamb and also goes out like a lamb. Unfortunately, there are also some tricky years when March comes in like a lamb but then goes out like a lion. But the real awful years are when March comes in like a lion and then goes out like a lion!

With all due respect to my mother (who was my kindergarten teacher), that whole lion/lamb thing really doesn't help us much.