The
Church does not change! This was the motto of the Russian
Orthodox Church we heard over and over again a few years
ago when my wife Kathy and I were in Moscow. Being consistent
in faith and practice is good. How can you trust people
who are always changing their minds? How can you count
on the Church when it is always changing its doctrines
and practice? Yet it is hard to count on a person or
church that never reconsiders what it believes or how
it acts.
Advancements
in knowledge challenge our scientific and theological
perspectives, changing how we understand the world. Many
traditional Christian dogmas no longer seem relevant
or true to our "modern" minds. Perhaps some of you now
question some things you used to believe? Realizing
the risk, I thought it might be instructive, and fun,
to make a "top-ten" list of some things we don't necessarily
believe any longer:
Top Ten Things We No Longer Necessarily Believe
9. Creation
happened in six 24-hour days (not that God couldn't do
it that way; it just probably didn't happen quite like
that)
8. A
man named Methuselah lived to be 967 (literal) years
old
7. The
sun actually rises into the sky, travels across it, then
settles back to earth
6. Moses' stopped
the sun and extended the day so that Israel could win
a battle
5. Stars
are attached to a domed sky over a flat earth
4. The
universe consists of earth at the center, heaven up there,
and hell down there - though remnants of this thinking
remain
3. Wealth
and success are signs of God's blessing while illness,
poverty, and disfigurement are evidence of sin and God's
punishment (but maybe traces of this attitude are still
around)
2. Men
are inherently more Godlike than women and children (very
few people seem to believe this any more)
1. The
Pope, or any religious leader, is infallible (now only
true of talk radio personalities)
1. The
Bible only depicts literal history and is exactly as
God transcribed it. I'd have to say we're working on
that one, with people of faith at extreme ends of the
debate.
Christian
people are questioning the religious language we use,
especially the language of worship. It is politically
correct to use gender and other inclusive terminology. How
does that apply to our worship language? What do you
think?
Today
is the last Sunday in the church year. With Advent beginning
next week, churches around the world traditionally set
aside this day to reflect on the concept, and on the
image of, Christ as King. From all that we know of Jesus
and his message, the "kingdom of God" is not the ordinary
or familiar idea of kingdom. Jesus' Kingdom of God is
more an "anti-kingdom," an eschatological/apocalyptic
kingdom. With this in mind, and thinking about our God-images
and worship language, let us put ourselves in the place
of the Roman procurator Pontius Pilate, as he questions
Jesus.
The
first thing Pilate says to Jesus, in all four gospels,
is: "Are you the King of the Jewish nation?" Upon
seeing Jesus, Pilate seems incredulous: "Don't tell
me you're a king?" In the synoptic gospels, Jesus answers
with just three words, "You say so." He says no more. John's
gospel develops this scene. Jesus replies, "Do you ask
this on your own?" Did you have some help, Pilate? That
Jesus was always turning accusing questions back on the
questioner, also in search of honest answers.
"Am
I a Jew?" What Pilate means is, "I don't know (or really
care) at all about you. Why should I care? Am I a Jew? I
have heard about you, but now I see you and, frankly,
I'm not impressed. Your own people have turned you in? What
have you done to deserve this?"
When
Jesus responds, he actually speaks to Pilate's earlier
question - about his being a king. "My kingdom is not
from this world." It's in it but not of it. I'm not
talking "kingdom" according to your Roman assumptions. If
I had need, "My followers, my subjects, would have fought
to keep me from being handed over to the Jews." Not "to
the Romans" but to the Jews. Roman power and values
were superfluous to Jesus. John's gospel clearly implies
that Jews are the real enemies. The real issues for
Jesus are spiritual ones. John's Gospel may also be
reflecting the growing animosity by the end of the first
century between Christians and Jews.
"My
followers" is often translated "my subjects," and is
the same word John uses for the Temple police. We're
also reminded of Matthew's gospel, when Jesus claims
that twelve legions of angels would rescue if needed.
Pilate's interrogation was going awry, and so, in verse
37, he demonstrates his gifts of administration and tries
to get the conversation back on track. "So, you are
a king?"
"Yes,
you could say I am a king, according to you, but that
is not the title I would ideally pick. I have come into
the world to bear witness to the truth. As in the prologue
of John, Jesus' death is the mirror event to his "coming
into the world" - not to be feared or avoided.
Jesus
says, "Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my
voice." "Listens" implies hearing and understanding. For
Jesus, his kingdom equals truth. His subjects are those
who hear and understand the truth. The kingdoms of this
world are become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ," -the
Kingdom of Truth.
The
image of king would have meant a lot to people in the
first century and at many other times in the history
of civilizations. Kings were usually all-powerful and armies
waited at their command. Many were considered virtually
divine. The Israelites thought of Yahweh God as a king,
but much more so. Each year at the traditional New Year's
celebration Rosh Hashanna, Yahweh was again crowned "King
of Israel.
We
can relate to this "King" image through understanding
past cultures more than through our present reality. God's
Kingdom is the realm or situation in which God is sovereign - whether
that realm is a physical place or a dimension of being
or a state of consciousness. Considering we live in
a generation with very few actual kings, and in a society
that has been decided anti-king from its inception, should
we keep or let go of this "kingdom" image since it no
longer speaks from our own cultural understanding.
What
would we substitute for "king" language? It seems obvious
that the kingdom of God is not like any earthly kingdom
with borders to be defended and military power to be
supported. God's kingdom is limitless in its magnitude
with God to provide what defense is needed, -truly a
kingdom and a whole lot more. The kingdom Jesus ushers
in is a kingdom of the least and the powerless. It is
a reality based on unconventional community and transforming
life.
What
image might we use instead of king? I suspect the particular
image won't matter a lot because we are a culture that
tends to push against all models of "kingship" - creating
then destroying our gods and heroes. Perhaps the deeper
issue of this language is its power to challenge us to
make peace with our own issues with hierarchy and sovereignty?
There
is a built-in tension in the language of our worship. It
reflects the tension of our theology and of our common
life. Walter Brueggemann identifies this idea in the
worship of ancient Israel, between allegiance to king
as representing Yahweh's will and allegiance to the demands
of Mosaic law for justice and mercy especially to the
widows and orphans. This tension is evident in the Psalms
and was powerful present in the Israel's worship even
when the king was most powerful.
There
is tension represented in our church language. Are attempts
at language that is gender inclusive helpful, by expressing
a separation of our religious faith from its patriarchal
roots, or is it lacking because we lose the personal
pronouns and warm personal images like God as Father. These
tensions, however, seem to reflect a very basic tension
between traditional and contemporary expressions of faith - tensions
entangled with issues of power, possession, and territoriality. I
fear the lifeless repetition of traditional language. I
fear the deadliness of political correctness. I fear
the danger of inspired imagination that loses touch with
the very foundations of our faith, becoming no more than
inspired humanism.
Church
musician and pastor Erik Routley cautions us against
factionalism with regard to our worship language. We
need to keep all the voices of the body in the worship
experience together to inform us and challenge us. When
comfort and numerical growth come only with the price
tag of social, economic or theological homogeneity, the
cost is too high. Human nature moves toward what is
comfortable and familiar, but the Spirit calls us to
choose and to grow. The true power of our worship comes
when we embrace our differences and recognize that our
only common link is the Spirit and our commitment to
each other.
Author
Madeleine L'Engle' writes of the tension reflected in
our religious language in her Genesis Trilogy-
Somehow
it does not help to affirm the feminine aspect of the
Godhead, or the Holy Spirit (it)self by saying "She" - because
the concept is far deeper than a personal pronoun. Though
the Holy Spirit calls forth from us all that is nurturing
and intuitive, there is also a wildness of where is also
a wildness of which we are afraid.
She
adds, "This wildness is the maternal aspect of the Trinity." Many "see
the maternal being as totally devouring" and are afraid
of it. When our language for God, our language of worship,
and especially our attachment to that language, serves
to protect us from knowing ourselves and God more clearly,
we need to let go of the language. When our resistance
to another's language leads us to judge or condemn, we
need to look into our own hearts, minds, and motives.
Meister
Eckhart writes, "The soul will bring forth Person if
God laughs into her and she laughs back to him." L'Engle
concludes, "We need a little more merriment and considerably
less brittleness as we come face to face with our problems
of human and divine sexuality." We can add, "and with
our human and divine language."
These
are some good questions to ask ourselves-
- "What
is the essence of my faith I seek to find with inclusive
language?"
- "What
do I seek to preserve with traditional language?"
- "What
am I trying to say about myself with my words?"
We
need the language of worship to comfort us in our affliction
and also to afflict us in our comfort, to challenge us
to let go what is shielding us from God and self, to
enable us to embrace our own authentic self and thus
discover God. A few years ago, I spent a year working
as a hospital chaplain doing a unit of Clinical Pastoral
Education (CPE). That year was my "epiphany" in terms
of the power of the language and images of faith. During
that experience, I learned about a young girl who had
been sexually abused by her father, a girl for whom the "father" image
of God no longer provided access to the Gospel messages
of freedom. That's when I became a "born again" believer
in inclusive language and alternative images for God.
That
story has been a touchstone for me. In my own worship
language, I consider it a high priority to seek and use
images and language that holds open the words of life
for all people - male, female, gay, straight, adult,
child, abused or not. At the very same time, I have
been nurtured by traditional Christian language and those
images have blessed me. With the benefit of several
years now, I perceive several lessons to draw from my
CPE story.
1. It
is crucial to find other images that can help expand
and deepen our sense of God's nature and presence.
2. We
need to allow such situations, including our own experiences
of being hurt, to challenge what might be our image
idolatry.
3. We
can seek to allow faith to heal the father image
so that it can be reclaimed. God as Father is not a
way of limiting God, but of clarifying how much God's "father-ness" we
human fathers lack.
4. Worship
God as God - finding liberation from substituting "images" for "God" (graven
image) and from being so reactive to particular images
because of bad experiences that we deny the power of
those images for others and their potential for us.
Prayer
There are no adequate and encompassing images. Our
names for you and our images of You are important because
we need to imagine what You are like in some sort of
concrete way. They are important to us as individuals
and to us as a body of faithful people. They are important
to the worship we offer You.
We do affirm and confess that our names and
images are not You. Our theological concepts are only
the lines we trace to remember our experiences of you. Even
the name "God" is a description. You are the most we
can imagine and infinitely more. In you, we live and
move and breathe and have our existence. In us, you
live and move and breathe and give us existence. We
worship you with our many images. They fall to contain
you. In our incomplete knowledge and with our inadequate
will, we seek only Your Kingdom, we desire only Your
Presence. Only in You can we ultimately find ourselves. Only
in You can our hurting ultimately be healed. Only in
You can our strength ultimately be embraced. Thank You
for the wisdom of all our sisters and brothers, of our
mothers, and father, of our daughters and sons. Thank
you for the wisdom that wells up within us like our breath. Your
Spirit consumes us and sets us free. And we all say
Amen.