After writing on the immigration theme, I find myself increasingly preoccupied with the knowledge we have of the hungry, the cold, the destitute: how disparately, how inequitably, we live and think nothing of it! In particular I John 3:16ff returns again, as it has for years when I consider this topic.

“This is how we know what love is: Christ gave his life for us. And we in turn must give our lives for our fellow Christians. But if someone who possesses the good things of this world sees a fellow Christian in need and withholds compassion from him, how can it be said that the love of God dwells in him?”

“Children, love must not be a matter of theory or talk; it must be true love which shows itself in action. This is how we shall know that we belong to the realm of truth, and reassure ourselves in his sight where conscience condemns us; for God is greater than our conscience and knows all.”

Our mandate is not to fix the world; it is to love and respond with what we have with those who have need of the basics. The mandate of Matthew 25 is clear: when one provides for one in need, one provides for Jesus.  John is clear that laying down one’s life for one’s brother entails meeting his physical needs.

To the extent we do not respond compassionately, we have not yet been transformed by the Spirit to live in God’s love. That is what pleases him.

“My dear friends, if our conscience does not condemn us, then we can approach God with confidence, and obtain from him whatever we ask, because we are keeping his commands and doing what he approves. His command is that we give our allegiance to his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, as Christ commanded us.” (emphasis mine)

This isn’t “works”; to confuse that is to totally miss the essence of what John said. When, by the Spirit, we have been changed to think and feel as God does, we will act as he does, giving ourselves to others. If we’ve resisted the Spirit, if we have not been changed to think as he thinks, love as he loves, we will not live selflessly as God does.

Nor is this abstract theological truth. The needs are ever before us, and we have long grown callous. To the extent that we do not respond in compassionate response, not just token efforts but generously, equitably, passionately, we are not living as Jesus lived. He has something to say about that.

In a recent conversation regarding immigration with one I know to be Christian, a businessman running a Christian business in a large city, I mentioned that the local paper had run an article about a discussion whether one could love one’s neighbor and deport him. The response startled me: “For him to be my neighbor he must be near me, and he isn’t supposed to be near me.”

The clear implication was that he had no responsibility to the illegal immigrant as a neighbor. I hardly knew how to respond. I commented that I could not judge those that crossed illegally, as I had never lived in the grinding, oppressive poverty that they knew. I do not remember his response.

I don’t think that he has understood the implications of the Good Samaritan at all. Today our actions have global repercussions, and we know it; there is no one that we cannot consider a neighbor. This man was significantly overweight as well, with a prominent gut. Our choices to knowingly live profligately while others starve is inexcusable. Yet again Ezekiel 16:49-50 screams into our darkness:

“The crime of your sister Sodom was pride, gluttony, calm complacency; such were hers and her daughters’ crimes. They never helped the poor and needy; they were proud, and engaged in loathsome practices before me, and so I swept them away as you have seen.”

As a child I learned of Sodom and Gomorrah as having been destroyed for rampant, aggressive homosexuality. Ezekiel points out another side to it; they were self-focused and uncaring of those about them. It seems now that the sexuality was a symptom of a much deeper sin of indolent self indulgence.

When I look at the inward focused comfort of much of the middle class Christian culture, I wonder how it is different. The parking lots of many churches show our self-focus in large, expensive , consuming vehicles. The houses in which the cars are parked are usually no less comfortable.

In a recent program I saw on the quasi-slave labor of many illegal immigrants working in the produce fields to grow what we eat, it was estimated that a 6% price increase would suffice to pay a reasonable wage to the field workers. Would we willingly give up something of our lifestyles that so define us in order to pay higher prices for our food, not to speak of clothing and other goods, so that those that produce them might earn a better wage? Would we act toward those that produce what we consume as we expect to be treated for what we produce? Do we even think about it?

I received an invitation to a breakfast laid on by a Christian business group; the title of the presentation to be given is “How to Lead a High Performance, Kingdom Building Company.”

“Kingdom Building Company:” this seems a basic conflict in terms.

The message of John the Baptist was radical equality: if you have two coats, give one away.  If someone compels you to do something, do that much again voluntarily.

The message of Jesus is yet more radical: following me means that you must be ready to give up all that you have, including your life.  The message of Matthew 25 has not changed; when we give to those in need, we give to him.

The message of Paul was consistent; writing to Corinth, he challenged them to live in equality within the larger community (II Corinthians 8.) That is not a message one hears today.

I John 3 is unequivocal: if you see someone in need and do not respond, how can the love of God be in you?

So what do these ethics have to do with companies and the kingdom of God?  Running a company does not necessarily preclude that one can live consistently with the Gospel.

It seems to be one of the convenient contemporary evangelical doctrines that generating wealth builds the kingdom. I have seen this in multi-level marketing companies that claim to be Christian. As a business owner I understand the need to earn a living; I understand that we give out of what we earn. I understand that God can give wealth, and that it can be used to aid others in need.

I also know that companies do not build the kingdom of God. I see nothing in Jesus to indicate that; what I do see is a strong warning against the desire for wealth. I see in Paul a strong warning to Timothy about those that want to make a profit from the Gospel.  I see strong warnings in James  to the wealthy about the abuses of others.  The kingdom of God is about lives transformed by the Spirit of God, not about the economic power of this world.

This is not a topic with clear right/wrong practical demarcations, and I risk a facile comment in such a brief post. In general though I suppose I might trust the teachers of such “kingdom building company” doctrines if they were as committed to the consistent message of equality in the Church in their teaching and in practice.  The critical question seems to be; why is it not taught as co-equal? What would change in the message of the “kingdom building companies”, and the lifestyles of their owners and managers, if these ethics of the kingdom of God were practiced?  Having gained this wealth for the kingdom, on whom and for what is it spent?  One might also ask what is their direct involvement with the poor and those in need?

Perhaps this would better be titled ‘Evangelical vs. Post-evangelical community.’ Anyway, awaking this morning I found myself reflecting on two distinct community styles that I see emerging today.

The new monastic groups, as well as others such as the Catholic Worker, Jonah House and similar communities, are the communities that tend to be small and truly communal, in that they share a common life, a common purse. I might call the new monastic groups postmodern, or perhaps post-evangelical, postmodern because they are focused on the organic life of the community as an expression of the Gospel, not on the typical evangelical propositional focus that is more consonant with modernism.

I am familiar with several large evangelical churches that are working to establish a more communal atmosphere. These I usually find to be continuing the more traditional, modernist sort of rational, propositional, juridical presentation of the Gospel. These are more like community centers than communities. They might have coffee shops, playgrounds or playtubes for kids, such that the facilities are places that people can drop in through the day for various reasons. I know some in leadership in those churches and I cannot fault their integrity. Yet I find that these are more ‘lifestyle’ churches, where one can find a subgroup of people like oneself with which to identify rather than being forced to identify with those very much unlike oneself socially, economically, educationally, etc.

There are long historical patterns behind the current large evangelical churchs, and one cannot change such quickly. There is hope though, as I know one large church that has heavily focused on the theme of ‘living generously’ toward all others. That Rick Warren has come to know the Sojourners community and from that contact has come to espouse the care of the poor, perhaps also the larger social justice matters, seems potentially a very positive trend toward moving the larger churches to a more organic model.

It occurred to me tonight that in the traditional evangelical focus on Paul a specific confrontation is lost: Paul is not recorded as specifically seeking out the outcasts of society, the tax collectors, prostitutes, and so forth. I’ve no doubt that he did in fact talk to them, but since that is not explicitly stated as it was with Jesus it is easier to miss that point and focus on the theological or pastoral aspects. We generally prefer it that way; we can deal more with people like us.

In reading St. Justin’s First Apology, I was startled to find this reference; the bold phrase is what I wish to point out. This is followed by a further description of the practice of the community.

Chapter 14: “…we who formerly delighted in fornication, but now embrace chastity alone; we who formerly used magical arts, dedicate ourselves to the good and unbegotten God; we who valued above all things the acquisition of wealth and possessions, now bring what we have into a common stock, and communicate to every one in need; we who hated and destroyed one another, and on account of their different manners would not live with men of a different tribe, now, since the coming of Christ, live familiarly with them, and pray for our enemies, and endeavour to persuade those who hate us unjustly to live conformably to the good precepts of Christ, to the end that they may become partakers with us of the same joyful hope of a reward from God the ruler of all.”

Chapter 67: And the wealthy among us help the needy; and we always keep together; and for all things wherewith we are supplied, we bless the Maker of all through His Son Jesus Christ, and through the Holy Ghost. … And they who are well to do, and willing, give what each thinks fit; and what is collected is deposited with the president, who succours the orphans and widows and those who, through sickness or any other cause, are in want, and those who are in bonds and the strangers sojourning among us, and in a word takes care of all who are in need.

Justin was killed about 165, so his defense would have been shortly before that. This was a full century after some of the New Testament documents. The other ethical statements do not surprise as they are still followed today, but to find that in the second half of the second century that the Christian community still shared a common purse was unknown to me. I wonder if this was not lost when Christianity was co-opted by Empire. In any case, it reinforces my readings in the contemporary practice of a New Monasticism.

Just as significant is how they did not spend money. Perhaps there were other expenses; it seems clear though that in Justin’s account the primary purpose was for the maintenance of the community, continuing in the spirit of Jesus and of Paul in II Corinthian 8.

Most of the evangelical church today would come undone were one to attempt to restore that original community model, even without trying to live in a communal setting. We prefer the luxury of contending for [our own personal brand of] the faith in doctrinal stance and in so doing usually diverting attention from the messy polity, personal obligation and necessary humility of an openly shared life.

I noted also this letter of Marcus Aurelius, found as an appendix at the end of Justin’s First Apology:

Epistle of Marcus Aurelius to the senate, in which he testifies that the Christians were the cause of his victory.

The Emperor Cæsar Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, Germanicus, Parthicus, Sarmaticus, to the People of Rome, and to the sacred Senate greeting: I explained to you my grand design, and what advantages I gained on the confines of Germany, with much labour and suffering, in consequence of the circumstance that I was surrounded by the enemy; I myself being shut up in Carnuntum by seventy-four cohorts, nine miles off. And the enemy being at hand, the scouts pointed out to us, and our general Pompeianus showed us that there was close on us a mass of a mixed multitude of 977,000 men, which indeed we saw; and I was shut up by this vast host, having with me only a battalion composed of the first, tenth, double and marine legions. Having then examined my own position, and my host, with respect to the vast mass of barbarians and of the enemy, I quickly betook myself to prayer to the gods of my country. But being disregarded by them, I summoned those who among us go by the name of Christians. And having made inquiry, I discovered a great number and vast host of them, and raged against them, which was by no means becoming; for afterwards I learned their power. Wherefore they began the battle, not by preparing weapons, nor arms, nor bugles; for such preparation is hateful to them, on account of the God they bear about in their conscience. Therefore it is probable that those whom we suppose to be atheists, have God as their ruling power entrenched in their conscience. For having cast themselves on the ground, they prayed not only for me, but also for the whole army as it stood, that they might be delivered from the present thirst and famine. For during five days we had got no water, because there was none; for we were in the heart of Germany, and in the enemy’s territory. And simultaneously with their casting themselves on the ground, and praying to God (a God of whom I am ignorant), water poured from heaven, upon us most refreshingly cool, but upon the enemies of Rome a withering hail. And immediately we recognised the presence of God following on the prayer —a God unconquerable and indestructible. Founding upon this, then, let us pardon such as are Christians, lest they pray for and obtain such a weapon against ourselves. And I counsel that no such person be accused on the ground of his being a Christian. But if any one be found laying to the charge of a Christian that he is a Christian, I desire that it be made manifest that he who is accused as a Christian, and acknowledges that he is one, is accused of nothing else than only this, that he is a Christian; but that he who arraigns him be burned alive. And I further desire, that he who is entrusted with the government of the province shall not compel the Christian, who confesses and certifies such a matter, to retract; neither shall he commit him. And I desire that these things be confirmed by a decree of the Senate. And I command this my edict to be published in the Forum of Trajan, in order that it may be read. The prefect Vitrasius Pollio will see that it be transmitted to all the provinces round about, and that no one who wishes to make use of or to possess it be hindered from obtaining a copy from the document I now publish.

I am beginning to wonder if the contemporary American evangelical church is not largely devoid of power, authority and credibility because we have substituted the life-changing power and witness of the Gospel within integral community for the comfort of lifestyle churches and the ephemeral power of economic boycott and political sanction–and losing the witness of Jesus in the process.

In 2001, with the calling of a new rector and subsequent personal dialog with him for the first few months, I thought there was a real opportunity to form a Christian community within the context of an existing Anglican parish.

As the practicalities of a near total rebuilding after an arson fire and the political realities of dealing with parishoners set it, coupled with a growing awareness that the rector quietly kept a tight control of much of the parish operation and would not trust/release others to the extent necessary to grow a large parish community, the prospect of that slowly faded over a couple of years. The dream per se remained alive as still possible to realize were the rector to change.

When that rector left, the possibility of that instance of the dream of community ceased, but the hope remained that the dream itself might yet be possible at a later time within that parish.

When the search process was compromised to install the assistant, and the parish began to disintegrate under one that should never have been in that role, I slowly began to have doubts about the possibility of the dream ever being actualized.

I suppose at the moment that I would say that the dream per se is not dead, but I have something of a despair of its possibilities of realization. That extended organic communities exist does still give hope.

I find the willingness to be deeply accountable, necessary to the life of an organic community, is the exception within an existing parish. I wonder if a community must not be formed initially with such principles, around the principles of one of the tested rules of community, in order for the members to have the personal committment that the community should have a chance of surviving.

A friend asked me a few days ago what I thought about the current immigration debate in the US. This is my response.

My response to this may initially seem oblique, for reasons that I hope are clear by the end.

If we understand “my kingdom is not of this world” to mean that Jesus’ kingdom has nothing to do with this world, then we are more or less up to our own devices regarding geopolitical matters.

I do not think that view accurate. I understand him to be saying rather that “the source and authority of my kingdom does not derive from this world’s systems, and you bet your bippy it has implications for them.” The overarching view of his life is that he came to reclaim authority over the planet, including its governing systems. I don’t think Satan was lying when at the temptation he indicated that the kingdoms of the world are his; there is that one fascinating glimpse of Michael resisting the ‘prince of Persia’ in Daniel that perhaps gives a faint glimmer into what he meant. God didn’t go about retaking control it in a way that we expected or might have desired or still might desire; Jesus knew that and didn’t take the bait.

The Church catholic is God’s chosen system to overthrow the dominance of this world; as we are members of the Church, we are citizens of his kingdom and his ambassadors to tell others of that coming shift in governance and change their allegiance until he choses to return and finalize his authority. Nowhere are we told that we can enact that governance, contrary to the Christian Reconstructionists. Rather, we are to be about the commission given at the end of the Gospels until he decides otherwise.

As citizens of a new kingdom, we did not commit to a civil religion; rather, our allegiance to earthly nations and race is undone. If we take our new citizenship seriously there is no more class, race or national distinction that is meaningful to us, because they are not meaningful to God. We give to Caesar what is his in the process of living our lives within our respective nations. As part of that we may not be able to accept or respond to a given argument on the terms as defined by our national governments; we must evaluate each as best we can within the system that God has set up. Where our allegiance and obedience to God puts us at odds with Caesar, Caesar may exact a price for that disloyalty, including our lives.

So be it. Our task is to be about the Gospel, which commits us to loving others without distinction. The Beatitudes, as the ethic of the coming kingdom, commit us to justice and mercy for each one, regardless of the response. Desmond Tutu noted when we heard him speak a week or so ago that there will never be peace as long as there remain conditions in the world which make people desperate. I think in the main he is right. Perhaps… just perhaps… had the world been more compassionate about the plight of people during the Weimar Republic, there would have been no occasion for Hitler.

This may sound idealistic, but I think it is the radical view that the Gospel requires.

All Saints is a small parish, perhaps 30-50 depending on the Sunday. We are seeing the beginnings of something that over the last few years I have found that I deeply desire, to find an expression of authentic community centered around Jesus of Nazareth. This is something I have intuitively wanted for much of my life and have not known quite how to express or actualize.

We are finding that an authentic community is a generous community.

Chris has been able to invite several of her friends met in the county jail, and that has gone well. Yesterday the parish threw a baby shower for F, a young woman that has been in and out of drugs and prostitution that now wants to live responsibly to her two year old and her unborn child. She had never been to All Saints before, but the reception was warm and very generous. The child’s father M came as well; initially extremely resistant, almost literally dragging his heels, the warmth of the response to both of them broke his resistance. He even agreed last night in conversation with F that he would be open to coming to church there. Sonogram has revealed that the baby has a cleft palate, so we know that there are unusual needs. We hope to be a generous community for them; they will need it.

A is 50+, did topless dancing for 20 years, and for the last 10 has been in and out of jail, trying to hold on and eventually slipping back onto the streets. She came to All Saints as well yesterday; she just got out again a week or two ago. We don’t know how A will do; what we do know is that we will befriend her where and when we can, as without that I don’t think she has any real hope.

A few months ago we were approached by some friends about being a contact church for ex-inmates. We immediately agreed, and a couple of months ago we got a call from that list by a couple that was having a difficult time. That night we took some food over, and they have come with us to All Saints once. J disappeared again a few days ago and took $100 set aside for the light bill, but by now there is relationship formed with L.

Yesterday L came to All Saints with Chris but was so distraught that she did not want to be with people and called a friend to pick her up early. Before she left a friend managed to talk to her and found out that her $82 electric bill was due today, and she had no money to pay it. There are four kids at home, about 11-16 years. Yesterday afternoon at a coffee shop in east Dallas a few friends spontaneously pulled out what they had, and without planning there was $82 in the pile. Chris talked to L yesterday evening and took it over to her. It was difficult for her to take, but we are finding ways to extend help with dignity so that we are generous as peers.

I grew up in the Church of Christ, with most of its impact in my formative teenage years in the 60s. My father was an elder, and we were what would be called a ‘faithful’ family, meaning that we showed up at every meeting. While still in that church I spent two years in Italy from 1971 to 1973 on a youth mission program. Thirty five years later, after having left the Church of Christ in 1974-1975, I recently passed a weekend with some of those with whom I was in Italy. Not particularly to my surprise I have had ongoing dreams about that event and much more distant history as well. That occasion is behind this post. While it will be an ongoing process, after a few weeks I think I can begin to evaluate how I respond to the Church of Christ over a distance of thirty years.

It was strange hearing the old hymns in Italian again. Singing and hearing them again after thirty years is rather strange. Every so often I find that one is running through my mind, and I recall all the words in Italian as well. Strange how memory works at times; this recall is other than deliberate cognition.

From the songs that came up that weekend I noticed that some of the newer praise type choruses have been translated, perhaps with a few originals. In general I was disappointed to find that over thirty years later there still is no significant corpus of new music by Italians from within the tradition.

That seems to indicate something of an ongoing American patrimony, which I find not surprising given what I know of those involved. Exportation and enforcement of a particular form of American doctrine and culture is still not healthy for the long run. It does not honor either the Italians or the Holy Spirit to be able to sort out the message of the Gospel within their own context, as Paul and others did in the early church. I am not naive about how that would go, but I don’t fear it either. Yes, there will be problems; let them come up and deal with each one as it does. That is why Paul’s letters were so different to each church.

It does seem that the Church of Christ defines itself as much by what is not discussed as much as by what is discussed. No one seems particularly inclined to openly acknowledge or address some pink elephants in the room.

A central one is the argumentative fractiousness of so many of the churches. A friend there told me than in the east Texas town of (I think) Mineola, a rather small burg on just about any scale of things, there are five Churches of Christ. Five. All the result of arguments and splits and squabblings.

Traditionally no one seems to much discuss political or social justice. While these can be some of the most corrosive, divisive issues within a church, the tendency as I knew it was to simply not talk about them. Partly one’s chosen lifestyle is less threatened by choosing to see and not perceive. More particularly in that setting I think one doesn’t have to face situations in which there simply are no sufficient pre-fabricated answers; the rigid doctrinal shell isn’t broken if we don’t tap too hard on it. (That said, I find it encouraging to know at least peripherally of progressive elements within the Church of Christ that do in fact take these matters seriously and act within their context. Even within my own traditionalist upbringing I remember well that in the mid 60s there was a quiet but deliberate involvement in the poorest areas of the black community within our city; I went on a number of occasions to gospel presentation studies (Jule Miller filmstrips and clear red plastic LP soundtracks) in some very poor homes, and they have influenced my life in subtle ways since. The prevalent idea of social equity in our context seemed to be to convert everyone to be like us, but I do honor the courage of several men that at least chose to act within what they understood in response to racist separatism.)

No one seems to be able to openly address the reasons for the loss of disaffected young people, of which I certainly am one. Granted, that is in no way limited to the Churches of Christ; it crosses all denominational lines, kids seeing the duplicity, compromise, self-interest and lack of integrity of the adults. Yet, there does not seem to be a public admission that it happens, or an ongoing dialog about why it happens and what might be done about it.

I was profoundly affected by a congregational meeting when I was about 17 in I watched a power hungry preacher turn most of the congregation against my father and his co-elder. After some time, they were essentially left no option but to resign. (The preacher wanted to be an elder, a hotly disputed doctrinal point in the Church of Christ, at least in those times, if it isn’t still.) These sorts of ego trips by and large go unaddressed in all churches, at least in my exposure to things, yet these matters of the heart are what God most radically wants to change.

To admit these things openly seems to me to require questioning some foundational matters about the destructive consequence of trying to define rigid, reductive doctrinal positions, and about holding themselves apart from others as if they were unique. Understanding that the Church of Christ is far from a homogenous group, and acknowledging that there is a significant progressive element in some areas, in general it prides itself on this idea of ‘restoring’ the early faith and practice, without any understanding that were they to be able to observe first hand the practice of the early Christians they would find it more foreign than just any other contemporary Christian practice.

The early church in Jerusalem was thoroughgoingly, liturgically Jewish! Paul himself, while not forcing it on others, was a devout Jewish liturgist; he took the vows, and he deliberately pushed toward Jerusalem in time to be there for the feast; this was what he knew, and it was profoundly significant to him.

Many, though not all, in the Church of Christ seem to approach the whole thing as if no one between the death of the apostle John and the emergence of the Campbell-Stone movement had any sort of genuine Christian heritage. How preposterous… who carried the Gospel through the centuries that there should be a church of any sort around by the time of Campbell, Stone and others? Yet to admit that others could genuinely, intimately know Jesus without having conformed to Church of Christ doctrine and practice is to question the some of their most basic tenets, and that is simply too threatening to personal identity and security.

There were a few odd occasions of encouragement though. On Sunday morning, one of the early missionaries, in recounting a few stories of the early days, used language that I found surprisingly more flexible than I might have expected. He recounted one fellow from Sicily that was teaching a couple who had some statues in their house that he wanted to persuade them to get rid of, and the old missionary’s statement was something to the effect that some end up worshiping the statue itself. There was another similar sort of statement about a different situation that had a similar sort of subtle openness.

I cannot reproduce exactly the nuance of what he said, but it seemed clear that there was acknowledgement that not all would in fact worship the statues. I doubt that he could ever admit to the positive use of icons, but at least he did not seem to be dogmatic that all such were evil in all cases. Perhaps I am reading too much into that, and perhaps there was something of this openness thirty five years ago that I did not have the ears to hear, but I found these things to give a bit of hope that the brittle, narrow absoluteness that I knew growing up may be softening. The point is not to push the use or not of icons or physical artifacts; it is more about ascribing to others the mindset that one thinks the other must have in order to act as the other does. I would oppose the superstition that can be attached to such tokens just as they would, but I do not think that superstition is the necessary cause.

In this regard, some time ago I saw this from Abilene Christian University (at which I studied for one year): http://www.acu.edu/events/news/010302_restoration.html

“In 1986 the Center acquired the 200-year old pulpit from the Ahorey Presbyterian Church in Northern Ireland, from which Thomas Campbell preached for 10 years before migrating to America.”

Given the typically abhorrence by the Church of Christ toward most of the Roman practice, I doubt that they see the utter irony of what they did. In the desire to stay connected to our roots we look for causally connective tokens that remain of those that we honor. It seems to me that this is precisely the sort of practice that eventually led to the panoply of saints, holy items, relics and so forth of the Roman church. In my view that has already begun with the establishment of the “Center for Restoration Studies” mentioned in the above web site. Those that have set this up won’t live long enough to see the same process develop in its contemporary expression; were they to see it in a couple of hundred years, assuming it survives, they might well be horrified at what will have become of it. It will not look Roman, but I fully expect it will have its own unique distortions.

I will say this in closing: I found that I could more easily relate to these friends than at any time since leaving the Church of Christ. I find this healthy, not simply because I have changed such that I do not particularly fear possible critical judgment, rather, though they may not understand it, they seem to accept and respect my decision to live a different Christian practice. I find that hopeful for the further healing and integration of the various Christian practices.

Reflecting on my thoughts about the centrality of the Eucharist, it occurred to me that they were incomplete. Both Eucharist and Word are necessary. Word informs the Eucharist; without Word, Eucharist becomes an empty, meaningless form. Word also informs all that we do, and how we do it. Yet, without the mystery of Eucharist, Word can remain intellectual, heady, uninvolved; when expressed in Eucharist we actualize Word in a unique way.

Far, far more of course could and should be said on this, but for now I only want to add that Word as well is a distinctive that prevents us from becoming just another social service agency. We have a regime change to announce and begin to realize, and we can only remain centered on that in Word and Eucharist.

Listening to a podcast from the Conversatio Fide site, in a presentation by Rose Madrid-Swetman on a generous community, I was touched by the (com)passion of the speaker in a way that broke down an old reserve. I have always been afraid of the church becoming more or less indistinguishable from a social service agency if we became too involved socially. At least in my understanding of the recent history of the American church, social involvement all too frequently led to dilution and/or loss of some of the distinctives of the Christian message. That need not necessarily follow, but how do we avoid it?

If salvation is primarily the restoration of relationship with God, who reached into our lives until we responded to him, is that not what we should be about for others as well? The clear message of a generous community is an uncompromised ‘yes.’ That is what Jesus did; he was integrally, caringly involved with others. He didn’t heal with dispassion; he deeply loved those that came to him. That was the message and life of the first Christians. How then in that do we avoid a loss of integrity of representing Jesus, without diluting our morals, our ethics, our message?

Today it occurred that the centering essence of who we are as a sacramental community is the Eucharist. It is there that we most clearly present our distinctives to others, and to ourselves. It is there that we return again and again to the re-statement of what defines our raison d’etre as the people of God.

A presentation of the Gospel to ‘get someone saved’ seems more and more to fundamentally miss God’s involvement in our lives. He came that we should be transformed in every area of our lives as those realizing, actualizing, the ethic of the ‘already/not yet’ kingdom of God. That is what he calls us to with others; as we are transformed, we can in turn transform.

As God involves himself integrally in our lives, so he will send us to be integrally involved in the lives of those he wants to touch. That is in its essence a community response, in which we form relationships without agendas, without ulterior motives, except that we have been transformed by the very Spirit of God to live toward others as he lived toward us, in the power and witness of the Spirit. Some may not get it, some will oppose us, now just as then; so what? As Jesus sent out the disciples, the blessing of peace when entering a house was unconditional. Whether the blessing remained or not was not up to the disciples; theirs was but to speak the blessing.

In that encounter with the world we can be easily deflected, sometimes subtly in ways we do not at first know, sometimes thrown off in a hard clash; we must be called back constantly to Jesus. The Eucharist is where we all are leveled before he who gathered us, and it is for the Eucharist that we gather again. As we understand the Eucharist, as we live centered around it as the distinctive celebration of God-become-man, we best maintain an integral, uncompromised witness of who we are, who we are about, and for whom we live.

It would be easy to align with the orthodox movement of the Episcopal church, and in fact have done so in the past. I no longer can uncritically endorse it, for the simple reason that I no longer see it as I once did.

For ten years we were at a reasonably sized Episcopal church that was one of the core churches of the charismatic renewal in the 70s and early 80s. For 5 of those ten years I was on the vestry, and during each of my vestry terms we called a new rector. The first call took two years; we did it thoroughly and well, and we made the best choice for that time. The second call was a charade of behind the scenes collusion with the former rector, the senior warden, and even the bishop to maneuver in the assistant priest as rector. I opposed the call, but I was alone in my dissent. The result was a disaster. I resigned from the vestry a year early, and left the church entirely 5 months later. Even that senior warden has now left the church, well sorry for the decision.

That is not at all to say that I disagree with the orthodox theological position on human sexuality. The problem is different than merely sexuality; until the church is willing to live by the entire list of sins that Paul names in I Corinthians 5, as well as the need to expel the sexually immoral, we has best be very careful about being so confident that our emphasis on rightness in matters of sexuality is also God’s central focus. When is the last time the Episcopal church divided so sharply over drunkenness? Or greed? Jesus was far harder on the religious power brokers than he was on those whose sin was sexual.

My question is simple: where are the poor, the addicts and prostitutes? It isn’t that no one helps them when they do rarely come in; rather, why are the churches not directly involved in the lives of the poor? To wait until they come to us is not what Jesus was about. Discussing this once with the then Bishop Suffragan (now a Bishop) of this diocese, I was peremptorily dismissed with the comment that the poor were being cared for. In other words, it was not necessary that they should need to come to the parishes. How very convenient…

While we will admit to personal faults and sin, too often we still live in the myth of our own goodness. What we miss is that in the Incarnation God began a radical realignment of the order of things that will culminate in the full recovery of the governance of the planet.

I had occasion several years ago to read the parish profile of a well to do, established orthodox Episcopal parish; the parish profile had been published as a normal part of a rector search process they had done. In it they proudly described a group of older women that wanted to organize themselves and spend some time together, under the name of Les Grandes Dames. They didn’t want it to be entirely self focused, so they found a service project: they gave receiving blankets to indigent mothers at the county hospital. That the women were involved in the community was a source of some pride to the parish.

Here I must caution the eventual reader to read carefully what I write; it could easily be misunderstood or misconstrued.

I was stunned at the self-congratulatory pride evident in the parish profile when describing this group of women. My questions were then, and remain now, something like these. How many of the indigent mothers were ever brought to the parish even once, not as a point of maternalistic pride but of a desire that they might find a place in the community? How many of les Dames ever went to the home of one of the indigents to help with the care of the child, or a ride to the doctor, or to care for the child if the mother were ill? These things were never said in the profile; I can only assume that nothing like that ever happened.

This is the same parish that decided to tell me about itself with a discreet plaque in the narthex: the organ is an Aeolian Skinner. It is a magnificent instrument, to be sure; that this is what they choose to advertise about themselves is evidence of a shallow, affluent pride. Yet this is a parish that is solidly in the orthodox camp, and the Word is preached there (to quote a parishioner, an old friend, from a recent encounter.)

I no longer accept this sort of widespread status quo in the orthodox wings of the Episcopal church, that I know, for this simple reason: doctrine and praxis do not align. (There may well be parishes that do live that balance, and I wish to be ever ready to acknowledge that.)

How would that alignment look? I can only dimly glimpse it in concept, but a central principle would be the equality of the Gospel. This is not a doctrine that I have ever heard expounded, but it is clearly a driving principle in St. Paul’s thought. It is laid out in II Corinthians 8 in the context of a relief effort for those suffering from famine in Jerusalem. Paul sums it up in these words: “There is no question of relieving others at the cost of hardship to yourselves; it is a question of equality. At the moment your surplus meets their need, but one day your need may be met by their surplus. The aim is equality; as scripture has it, ‘Those who gathered more did not have too much, and those who gathered less did not have too little.’”

Equality. It is no surprise that this is never taught, at least in my hearing; it radically threatens contemporary ecclesiastical social orders and power structures. Equality means that I must live in the awareness of, and responsibility to, the larger community with every resource of my life, whether time, money or presence. I need to choose to live below what I can, in order to have something for others in their need. Though none hold me accountable to that now, per Matthew 25 I will answer for it to God.

My first experience in church leadership came with something of a rude awakening to the disparity between words, motives and actions.

Elected to the vestry in January 1998, my first meeting in February was passed listening and asking a few questions. In March the vestry went on an all day retreat to spend some time together, to know each other better and discuss the coming year.

The then rector—though at the time we did not know of his plans for another year—was looking ahead to his retirement and was planning projects he considered important before leaving. He wanted to use a portion of a large cash gift to the church to begin a ministry to some of the slum children in northern India. Through direct contact with an Indian Anglican priest of the Church of South India, there was the occasion to do so with proper oversight.

He had begun discussing the idea with the parish some time before, and there was predictably a mixed response. The project was such that it would require vision beyond the life of many in the parish; anything less and it would not really be worth doing. Starting up and abandoning a few years later simply was not acceptable. Some understood and were all for it; some wanted nothing to do with it, as they felt the money could best be spent locally.

During the March retreat there was extended discussion among the vestry about the project, and it was finally unanimously approved. Promptly after the vote the sr. warden said with some excitement that she couldn’t wait to organize bake sales to raise money for the project.

I was stunned and could hardly believe what I heard. We had just been discussing a ministry mission that could conceivably require a 30 year vision, and we were going to raise money by bake sales.  After briefly collecting my thoughts, I opposed the bake sales and spoke instead of imparting the primary vision, of being willing to commit to something that would require giving beyond one’s own life. It did not take long before the rector, the parish administrator and the sr. warden were all quite incensed at me for opposing the idea, but I would not fold. To say the least, the day ended on a tense note.

The topic came up for discussion over the next several months, and the rector even tried to talk privately to me about the matter, to no avail; I would not give in. I repeatedly said that bake sales per se were not the problem, and I meant it, but they did not understand.

My defense was simply this: what we need to be doing is instilling discipleship, not selling casseroles. It is a matter of rewards. If someone buys a casserole for Sunday dinner, with the idea that it will go for a ‘good cause’, they have had their reward: they get a good lunch out of the deal. Jesus, however, will be much tougher than the IRS about the fair market value of goods or services received in exchange. This is what he taught; give to be seen, and you have your reward.  Similarly, give to get a dinner and you have your reward. What we must be about instead is teaching people to rearrange the priority of their lives so that they understand the need to give for the rest of their lives. Casseroles paid for out of on-hand cash will not do that.

The standoff did not end until July when the sr. warden, complaining bitterly one day to the Lord about my opposing the work of her hands, suddenly found herself confronted by the Lord: “Maybe you shouldn’t be so proud of the work of your hands.” She had the courage and humility to tell us about that confrontation; when I heard it my spirit leapt inside, as she had actually understood what I had been saying all along.  Since then she and I have had a warm and mutually respectful relationship.

Today so many ministries must give something of perceived value to entice people to give. The situation is no different than bake sales; if one has had one’s reward in a lagniappe, what will be left when Jesus reviews the motives of those involved? Many people may be shocked to find out that they will already have had much or all of their reward.