Making out small print on the sides of medicine bottles is becoming a chore for me. In just the last few months, I’ve caught myself doing the “middle age arm dance” as I move objects closer to me and further away, trying to find that point where I can actually focus on them. At 43 years old, presbyopia is beginning to have its way with my eyes. I’m still fine with the newspaper, hymnal, and other things I read on a regular basis, but the small print on medicine bottles is a doozy.
Because I also have an astigmatism in both eyes that is not corrected by my contacts and because that is worsening in my right eye, I wasn’t sure whether my problem was presbyopia or the astigmatism. On a run to Wal-Mart last night, I decided to grab a pair of +1.00 diopter reading glasses and see if they would take care of most of my blurriness on small objects. I then grabbed a medicine bottle and turned to its fine print. Sure enough, it was as though the font size on the bottle doubled. It was clear as day.
I went ahead and invested about eight bucks in a cheap pair of reading glasses. When I got home, I told my wife, Nadia, about my little experiment. (Truth be told, she needs them, too!) We laughed a bit about how we are at a stage in life we had thought of as being “old” what seems like only a few years back.
Later in the evening, it struck me. What an injustice! What an unfair world this is!! Here I was wearing +1.00 diopter reading glasses over -6.00 and-6.50 diopter contacts for my myopia (nearsightedness). It doesn’t take any math genius to know that +1.00 + -6.00 ought to be -5.00. In other words, shouldn’t it be that as presbyopia begins to set in for me, my nearsightedness gets better and I never need those annoying little reading glasses. Instead of worrying about moving up to +2.50 or 3.00 diopter reading glasses over the next few years, shouldn’t I be looking forward to my nearsightedness getting steadily better over the next decade? But no, that is not to be the case for me. Instead, I may well reach the point over the next ten years where I am up to 10 diopters of correction between the positive and negative correction needs I’ll have in the lenses I’m carrying around.
But this is where it really gets good, isn’t it? What a pathetic little “injustice” to get worked up about, right? I mean, how many people in the world today would think of wanting to add positive and negative diopters together to get improving myopia when they have such easy and inexpensive (relative to their salaries) access to corrective lenses? The slightly larger injustice is that there are so many people worldwide who don’t have access to or can’t afford corrective lenses of any sort. Larger than that is the number of people who suffer from easily preventable forms of blindness—people whose vision can never again be restored but whose vision could have easily been protected.
Even greater are all kinds of injustices caused by corrupt, inept, or tyrannical governments. Or what about the injustices caused by a sometimes cruelly competitive marketplace that can lift up one region, country, or product, only to destroy it a short time later? What about children being raised by adults whose lives are in one form of chaos or another? What about war or drought-ravished regions where death becomes endemic? What about people imprisoned by the racial, ethnic, or gender-based discrimination of others? What about hard-working folks whose contributions to the common good are counteracted by the drag caused by selfish or lazy people who stand in the way of progress?
I have a pair of reading glasses now. I’ll probably have multiple pairs to leave in different places within a short period of time. But I can see, and for that I thank God. May I enjoy seeing the smiles on my kids’ faces, the beauty of the world around me, and the ideas put on a page in print. May I learn to be better at offering thanks to God for these good things and so many more. May I not be distracted by renaming minor annoyances as “injustices.” May I learn to see the truly unjust things around me and in me. And may I be humble and committed enough for God to use me to address the true injustices in our world.
Grace & Peace,
Dan
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Is Christmas Worth Celebrating?
Historians reveal to us that the earliest record of Christ’s birth being celebrated on December 25th was not until 354 A.D. and that it is unlikely Jesus’ nativity was widely celebrated on that day in December any earlier than 300 A.D. They invite us to hear that the date we celebrate Jesus’ birth and many of the things we use to celebrate it—large festive meals, the giving of gifts, and visiting friends—were all brought over from the Roman festival of Saturnalia. Additionally, they inform us that such things as greenery, acts of charity, and lights were brought over from the celebration of the Roman New Year. These celebrations in the dead of winter came at (or near) the winter solstice, the time when the dark nights had reached their longest and were beginning to shorten again.
Discovering that some of our hallowed traditions have very pagan roots can be a disconcerting thing for us as Christians at first. If we borrowed this symbol or that idea from pagans, what else did we borrow? What else is “untrue”?
The earliest Christians seem to have made no effort to remember the day of Jesus’ birth. Instead, it was his resurrection that they celebrated as they gathered in homes weekly on the day after the Sabbath—“the Lord’s day.” That practice became so widespread that centuries later, Christians would come to assume that Sunday always was the Sabbath, having forgotten that the Jewish Sabbath runs from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday.
During the Reformation, beginning in the 16th century, Christmas was rejected by some Protestants since it was not a celebration advocated by Scripture. The Pilgrims who came to the New World also rejected it, even outlawing it in Boston for a time. In our day, it has become so highly commercialized that Christians routinely feel the need to remind one another “the reason for the season.” Recognizing that the celebration of Jesus’ birth was not a part of early Christianity, that it borrows heavily from pagan festivals, that it was rejected by Reformers and Puritans, and that it is being “re-paganized” by its commercialization today, is it even worth continuing to celebrate Christmas?
I think it is. One reason is that it points to deep truths about God. While the date of Jesus’ actual birth is certainly contested, a deeper reality is revealed in our celebration. God comes to us not just in the bright sunshine of our successes, but in the darkest nights of our failures. God enters humanity not just in the warmth of our expectant receptiveness, but in the coldness of our indifference. God enters the human condition not in strength and power, but in poverty and helplessness. In our darkest moments and despite our coldest rejections, God comes to us and God is with us. Emmanuel. Amen.
Discovering that some of our hallowed traditions have very pagan roots can be a disconcerting thing for us as Christians at first. If we borrowed this symbol or that idea from pagans, what else did we borrow? What else is “untrue”?
The earliest Christians seem to have made no effort to remember the day of Jesus’ birth. Instead, it was his resurrection that they celebrated as they gathered in homes weekly on the day after the Sabbath—“the Lord’s day.” That practice became so widespread that centuries later, Christians would come to assume that Sunday always was the Sabbath, having forgotten that the Jewish Sabbath runs from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday.
During the Reformation, beginning in the 16th century, Christmas was rejected by some Protestants since it was not a celebration advocated by Scripture. The Pilgrims who came to the New World also rejected it, even outlawing it in Boston for a time. In our day, it has become so highly commercialized that Christians routinely feel the need to remind one another “the reason for the season.” Recognizing that the celebration of Jesus’ birth was not a part of early Christianity, that it borrows heavily from pagan festivals, that it was rejected by Reformers and Puritans, and that it is being “re-paganized” by its commercialization today, is it even worth continuing to celebrate Christmas?
I think it is. One reason is that it points to deep truths about God. While the date of Jesus’ actual birth is certainly contested, a deeper reality is revealed in our celebration. God comes to us not just in the bright sunshine of our successes, but in the darkest nights of our failures. God enters humanity not just in the warmth of our expectant receptiveness, but in the coldness of our indifference. God enters the human condition not in strength and power, but in poverty and helplessness. In our darkest moments and despite our coldest rejections, God comes to us and God is with us. Emmanuel. Amen.
Gratitude in Surprising Places
You’ve seen the images dozens of times. A family has just lost its home or a community has just been devastated by a natural disaster. The cameras are rolling, and the person who has just lost everything says, “We’re just grateful that we still have one another. Everything else can be replaced.”
If we heard that line once or twice, it would be one thing. We hear it so often, though, that it seems to actually be a common, and sincere, response to surviving a disaster. There’s something totally illogical about it. We work hard to build a home and accumulate the things that go into it. Then we lose it all in one devastating day, and our response is one of gratitude.
How can that be?
Perhaps a big part of it is simply relief about what we didn’t lose. Even if that’s the case, though, I think it represents that we’ve developed a new mindset, a different perspective, a transformed way of thinking. In that moment, we are not focused on what we don’t have and trying to acquire more. At that time, we aren’t taking anything for granted, as though possessions, health, or even life are guaranteed to us. Coming out of a traumatic event that shakes our world, we tend to get a great deal of clarity about what really matters to us and what doesn’t. We also realize, perhaps for the first time, that everything is a gift to be enjoyed and shared.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to get to the same place in life—a place of deeply felt gratitude—without having a near-death experience? Perhaps it’s possible. Perhaps it’s something we can nurture into maturity like a gardener gently cares for her plants.
Two elements seem to be central to gratitude. The first is a recognition that the things we enjoy in life aren’t guaranteed to us. Health, economic security, freedom from pain, a home to live in, children, even life itself—none of these things are guaranteed to us. Ministry with people who have lost some of these things can remind us of their fleeting nature. As we care for others who are in need and become more aware of the suffering others endure, we find overturned our assumptions that the many things we enjoy will last forever. Like a farmer turning over the hard soil with a plow, this ministry can prepare the soil of our own hearts for seeds of gratitude.
A second element that seems central to gratitude is to focus on our blessings rather than focusing on what we lack. Immediately following a natural disaster, people often focus on the question: “What’s left? What do I still have?” To take an assessment of everything that had been lost would put them into a deep depression. Instead, they instinctively look for what remains, what will provide hope for the future, what will give them a reason to keep living.
We can choose to “count our blessings” at any time. The goal is obviously not to quantify them—to try to determine our “net worth” or something akin to that. Instead, the goal is to give thanks for each of the people, situations, and things in our life that bring us joy or comfort. We may even find that things or people that cause us discomfort but help us grow qualify as blessings and should be named as such.
Our grandmothers were right: “counting our blessings” has a way of making our hearts more grateful. Hearts filled with gratitude tend to overflow with generosity, peace, love and compassion. Such things are medicine of the Holy Spirit for a broken and hurting world.
Consider how you can reach out to people who are hurting. Consider forming a habit of cultivating gratitude. And then enjoy waiting for the harvest to come in!
Grace & Peace,
Dan
If we heard that line once or twice, it would be one thing. We hear it so often, though, that it seems to actually be a common, and sincere, response to surviving a disaster. There’s something totally illogical about it. We work hard to build a home and accumulate the things that go into it. Then we lose it all in one devastating day, and our response is one of gratitude.
How can that be?
Perhaps a big part of it is simply relief about what we didn’t lose. Even if that’s the case, though, I think it represents that we’ve developed a new mindset, a different perspective, a transformed way of thinking. In that moment, we are not focused on what we don’t have and trying to acquire more. At that time, we aren’t taking anything for granted, as though possessions, health, or even life are guaranteed to us. Coming out of a traumatic event that shakes our world, we tend to get a great deal of clarity about what really matters to us and what doesn’t. We also realize, perhaps for the first time, that everything is a gift to be enjoyed and shared.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to get to the same place in life—a place of deeply felt gratitude—without having a near-death experience? Perhaps it’s possible. Perhaps it’s something we can nurture into maturity like a gardener gently cares for her plants.
Two elements seem to be central to gratitude. The first is a recognition that the things we enjoy in life aren’t guaranteed to us. Health, economic security, freedom from pain, a home to live in, children, even life itself—none of these things are guaranteed to us. Ministry with people who have lost some of these things can remind us of their fleeting nature. As we care for others who are in need and become more aware of the suffering others endure, we find overturned our assumptions that the many things we enjoy will last forever. Like a farmer turning over the hard soil with a plow, this ministry can prepare the soil of our own hearts for seeds of gratitude.
A second element that seems central to gratitude is to focus on our blessings rather than focusing on what we lack. Immediately following a natural disaster, people often focus on the question: “What’s left? What do I still have?” To take an assessment of everything that had been lost would put them into a deep depression. Instead, they instinctively look for what remains, what will provide hope for the future, what will give them a reason to keep living.
We can choose to “count our blessings” at any time. The goal is obviously not to quantify them—to try to determine our “net worth” or something akin to that. Instead, the goal is to give thanks for each of the people, situations, and things in our life that bring us joy or comfort. We may even find that things or people that cause us discomfort but help us grow qualify as blessings and should be named as such.
Our grandmothers were right: “counting our blessings” has a way of making our hearts more grateful. Hearts filled with gratitude tend to overflow with generosity, peace, love and compassion. Such things are medicine of the Holy Spirit for a broken and hurting world.
Consider how you can reach out to people who are hurting. Consider forming a habit of cultivating gratitude. And then enjoy waiting for the harvest to come in!
Grace & Peace,
Dan
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Doing the Job While It's Easy
There are many ways in which I enjoy hard work. Keeping up with household chores and keeping my office clean are not among them. When I looked in the back yard late last week, though, I knew the time had come to get the rake out and do some work.
Ignoring leaves is not an option in our yard. We have four large oak trees, a young elm, and two large hickorys on a very small lot. That makes for lots and lots of leaves. We also have a large hairy dog that attracts leaves as if he were a great, roving electromagnet—picking up leaves from all corners of the yard while outside, then immediately releasing them from his heavy coat upon entering the house.
In the final analysis, we only get to choose what tool we will use to get the leaves into bags. We can either use the rake and large, cheap plastic lawn bags or we can use the vacuum cleaner with its small expensive bags. While I’m not particularly fond of either kind of work, it’s obviously easier to rake the yard, bag up the leaves, and get it over with than to have the long-term nuisance of leaves dragged into the house a few handfuls at a time.
This past Sunday afternoon the weather was perfect for raking, so out I went to the chore that awaited me. It wasn’t bad work, and it was rewarding to see the progress I was making. I also enjoyed a few breaks in which I played with Luke, our 95 pound electromagnet. (Note to self: I need to do more of that—it’s good for both of us!) Late in the afternoon, I even got a bit of help from my kids as they returned from an afternoon of playing with friends.
By nightfall, I had bagged nearly every leaf in the back yard and, with my helpers, got as many of the bags to the street as the trash collectors will pick up in one week. We even thought to store all the bags upside down so that if it rains, the bags won’t fill with water through the small opening left at the top. “This was so much better than last year,” I thought, “when we battled leaves in the house for a week or two before finally getting the job done. It’s better than last year, when I left the bags in the back yard for months, allowing them to fill with rain and melted ice, making them heavy, wet, decomposing messes by the time I carried them to the street.”
With so many jobs, we either do them right and do them in a timely fashion or we find ourselves with extra work to do in the future. We either control our appetites and get some good exercise every week, or we have a harder diet and exercise regimen down the road to regain our health (or we shave years off our lives from compromised health).
We either clean things up and put them away when we’re finished with them or have a larger mess to deal with later. We either focus in and learn someone’s name well the first time or two that we meet them or have the embarrassment of having to ask them their name repeatedly in the future. We either take care of car and home maintenance needs on a timely basis or deal with costlier and more extensive repairs down the road.
Similarly, it’s easier to learn good stewardship and good money management when the economy is strong or when our responsibilities are few than to try to learn these lessons when we’re overwhelmed with commitments and struggling in a weak economy. (If you still have kids at home, this is also a plug to teach them money management and stewardship now, while it’s just a question of their learning to limit what they spend on their wants.)
When I finished the back yard, it was getting dark and I was ready to quit. The kids, though, had made a great pile that we could have filled 3-4 bags with in pretty short order. I told them it would have to wait; I had done what I set out to do and we could deal with those leaves another day. Well, as I write this, a heavy, steady rain is soaking that pile of leaves, making the job of bagging them a lot more onerous than if I had taken another fifteen minutes last night.
Obviously, this is a lesson I’m still working on—doing each day’s work as it comes, rather than putting some of it off and just making it more burdensome in the future. Sometimes I just need to do things the hard way a time or two to inspire me to do them when they’re relatively easy the next time around.
Grace & Peace,
Dan
Ignoring leaves is not an option in our yard. We have four large oak trees, a young elm, and two large hickorys on a very small lot. That makes for lots and lots of leaves. We also have a large hairy dog that attracts leaves as if he were a great, roving electromagnet—picking up leaves from all corners of the yard while outside, then immediately releasing them from his heavy coat upon entering the house.
In the final analysis, we only get to choose what tool we will use to get the leaves into bags. We can either use the rake and large, cheap plastic lawn bags or we can use the vacuum cleaner with its small expensive bags. While I’m not particularly fond of either kind of work, it’s obviously easier to rake the yard, bag up the leaves, and get it over with than to have the long-term nuisance of leaves dragged into the house a few handfuls at a time.
This past Sunday afternoon the weather was perfect for raking, so out I went to the chore that awaited me. It wasn’t bad work, and it was rewarding to see the progress I was making. I also enjoyed a few breaks in which I played with Luke, our 95 pound electromagnet. (Note to self: I need to do more of that—it’s good for both of us!) Late in the afternoon, I even got a bit of help from my kids as they returned from an afternoon of playing with friends.
By nightfall, I had bagged nearly every leaf in the back yard and, with my helpers, got as many of the bags to the street as the trash collectors will pick up in one week. We even thought to store all the bags upside down so that if it rains, the bags won’t fill with water through the small opening left at the top. “This was so much better than last year,” I thought, “when we battled leaves in the house for a week or two before finally getting the job done. It’s better than last year, when I left the bags in the back yard for months, allowing them to fill with rain and melted ice, making them heavy, wet, decomposing messes by the time I carried them to the street.”
With so many jobs, we either do them right and do them in a timely fashion or we find ourselves with extra work to do in the future. We either control our appetites and get some good exercise every week, or we have a harder diet and exercise regimen down the road to regain our health (or we shave years off our lives from compromised health).
We either clean things up and put them away when we’re finished with them or have a larger mess to deal with later. We either focus in and learn someone’s name well the first time or two that we meet them or have the embarrassment of having to ask them their name repeatedly in the future. We either take care of car and home maintenance needs on a timely basis or deal with costlier and more extensive repairs down the road.
Similarly, it’s easier to learn good stewardship and good money management when the economy is strong or when our responsibilities are few than to try to learn these lessons when we’re overwhelmed with commitments and struggling in a weak economy. (If you still have kids at home, this is also a plug to teach them money management and stewardship now, while it’s just a question of their learning to limit what they spend on their wants.)
When I finished the back yard, it was getting dark and I was ready to quit. The kids, though, had made a great pile that we could have filled 3-4 bags with in pretty short order. I told them it would have to wait; I had done what I set out to do and we could deal with those leaves another day. Well, as I write this, a heavy, steady rain is soaking that pile of leaves, making the job of bagging them a lot more onerous than if I had taken another fifteen minutes last night.
Obviously, this is a lesson I’m still working on—doing each day’s work as it comes, rather than putting some of it off and just making it more burdensome in the future. Sometimes I just need to do things the hard way a time or two to inspire me to do them when they’re relatively easy the next time around.
Grace & Peace,
Dan
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Good Press on the Presbyterian Church (USA)
(From time to time and for various reasons, the Presbyterian Church (USA) gets bad press. The good news doesn't find its way into the press very often, so this is one small attempt to get out a good word.)
Presbyterians missionaries entered Oklahoma long before statehood, including those who arrived with Native Americans on their “trails of tears.” Presbyterian pastors arrived with a passion for education (establishing what eventually became the University of Tulsa), a passion for evangelism (with the first church in many of our towns and cities in Oklahoma being Presbyterian), and with a passion for mission (reaching out to people in poverty in many ways, including the establishment of social service agencies).
The primary denomination of Presbyterians today, the PCUSA, is home to about 78% of all Presbyterians in the United States (The Yearbook of American and Canadian Churches, the edition of 2004, Eileen W. Lindner, ed.). It is a denomination that fearlessly tackles issues affecting modern life, seeking to understand how God is speaking to us through scripture to guide us forward.
While it regularly produces study papers and even position papers, the church does not compel its members (whether clergy or laity) to espouse particular viewpoints on modern issues. It is, however, a “confessional church,” meaning that it has a “Book of Confessions” that has a central role in shaping the theology of the denomination. The eleven documents in this book include creeds, confessions of faith, catechisms, and a brief statement of faith. Each of these came into being as Christians struggled to understand what aspects of their faith in God were most important to proclaim in their context. Ordained officers (ministers, elders, and deacons) in the church commit to be instructed and led by those confessions as they lead the people of God.
Presbyterian faith proclaims the full divinity, the full humanity, and the lordship of Jesus and proclaims the mystery of the Triune God—God present as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, yet one God. While individuals within the Presbyterian Church are free to dissent on theological and practical issues, the Book of Order (the portion of our denomination’s constitution dealing with church government) draws clear lines that affect what actions are permitted within member churches. Dissent is welcome within the denomination, resulting in vigorous debates on countless theological, social, political, and other issues. Defiance of the church’s constitution, though, is not welcome, as it rends the fabric of community and trust in the Spirit that unite us.
The PCUSA Book of Order states that “all property held by or for a particular church…is held in trust nevertheless for the use and benefit of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).” This provision is not so that the denomination might benefit from the value of the property, and it makes no effort to do so. It does, however, provide the leverage needed for the denomination to hold pastors and congregations accountable to carrying out their ministries under the authority of Christ as understood and practiced through our theology and church government.
Church officers in the Presbyterian Church (USA) profess, among other things, that we “accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be, by the Holy Spirit, the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ in the Church universal, and God’s Word to [us].” Bible study is of immense importance in our denomination, with pastors being required to learn Hebrew and Greek and study numerous courses on the Bible as part of the Master’s of Divinity degree required to be ordained as a pastor in the PCUSA. The reading and interpretation of the Bible plays a central role in Presbyterian worship. Sunday School classes and Bible studies for adults provide venues where laity can learn to study the Bible and apply it to their lives. In some ways, it is astonishingly easy to understand the Bible’s meaning—the overwhelming challenge is to try to live it out. (“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” is a good example, the repeated insistence throughout both Testaments on care for the poor and the vulnerable is another.) In other ways, it is extraordinarily hard to discern how different passages should be held in tension with one another and how to let them speak to modern life. Abortion, birth control, divorce, homosexuality, and women's roles in the community of faith are such hotly debated issues in churches of many denominations precisely because the Bible directly addresses them rarely and leaves open questions about how the passages should be interpreted. Christians of good conscience, deep relationship with Christ, and courageous commitment to God differ on how they ultimately understand the Spirit to be guiding the church to respond to those issues. While there is consensus within Presbyterian churches on some of those, there is vigorous debate on others.
In short, while you’ll never find unanimity of thought in the Presbyterian church, you will often find people who consider no question or issue off limits as they try to love, honor, and seek God with their all their mind. You’ll also find Presbyterian members and congregations who are passionate about demonstrating the presence of God in the realities of this world through serving others in their time of need, not only pointing to God’s promise to life beyond the tomb. The Presbyterian Church: it’s a great place to come with your thorniest questions and deepest yearnings. The Spirit is at work in our churches (as in other churches), drawing people to itself as God continues to reconcile the world to himself in Christ.
Presbyterians missionaries entered Oklahoma long before statehood, including those who arrived with Native Americans on their “trails of tears.” Presbyterian pastors arrived with a passion for education (establishing what eventually became the University of Tulsa), a passion for evangelism (with the first church in many of our towns and cities in Oklahoma being Presbyterian), and with a passion for mission (reaching out to people in poverty in many ways, including the establishment of social service agencies).
The primary denomination of Presbyterians today, the PCUSA, is home to about 78% of all Presbyterians in the United States (The Yearbook of American and Canadian Churches, the edition of 2004, Eileen W. Lindner, ed.). It is a denomination that fearlessly tackles issues affecting modern life, seeking to understand how God is speaking to us through scripture to guide us forward.
While it regularly produces study papers and even position papers, the church does not compel its members (whether clergy or laity) to espouse particular viewpoints on modern issues. It is, however, a “confessional church,” meaning that it has a “Book of Confessions” that has a central role in shaping the theology of the denomination. The eleven documents in this book include creeds, confessions of faith, catechisms, and a brief statement of faith. Each of these came into being as Christians struggled to understand what aspects of their faith in God were most important to proclaim in their context. Ordained officers (ministers, elders, and deacons) in the church commit to be instructed and led by those confessions as they lead the people of God.
Presbyterian faith proclaims the full divinity, the full humanity, and the lordship of Jesus and proclaims the mystery of the Triune God—God present as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, yet one God. While individuals within the Presbyterian Church are free to dissent on theological and practical issues, the Book of Order (the portion of our denomination’s constitution dealing with church government) draws clear lines that affect what actions are permitted within member churches. Dissent is welcome within the denomination, resulting in vigorous debates on countless theological, social, political, and other issues. Defiance of the church’s constitution, though, is not welcome, as it rends the fabric of community and trust in the Spirit that unite us.
The PCUSA Book of Order states that “all property held by or for a particular church…is held in trust nevertheless for the use and benefit of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).” This provision is not so that the denomination might benefit from the value of the property, and it makes no effort to do so. It does, however, provide the leverage needed for the denomination to hold pastors and congregations accountable to carrying out their ministries under the authority of Christ as understood and practiced through our theology and church government.
Church officers in the Presbyterian Church (USA) profess, among other things, that we “accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be, by the Holy Spirit, the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ in the Church universal, and God’s Word to [us].” Bible study is of immense importance in our denomination, with pastors being required to learn Hebrew and Greek and study numerous courses on the Bible as part of the Master’s of Divinity degree required to be ordained as a pastor in the PCUSA. The reading and interpretation of the Bible plays a central role in Presbyterian worship. Sunday School classes and Bible studies for adults provide venues where laity can learn to study the Bible and apply it to their lives. In some ways, it is astonishingly easy to understand the Bible’s meaning—the overwhelming challenge is to try to live it out. (“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” is a good example, the repeated insistence throughout both Testaments on care for the poor and the vulnerable is another.) In other ways, it is extraordinarily hard to discern how different passages should be held in tension with one another and how to let them speak to modern life. Abortion, birth control, divorce, homosexuality, and women's roles in the community of faith are such hotly debated issues in churches of many denominations precisely because the Bible directly addresses them rarely and leaves open questions about how the passages should be interpreted. Christians of good conscience, deep relationship with Christ, and courageous commitment to God differ on how they ultimately understand the Spirit to be guiding the church to respond to those issues. While there is consensus within Presbyterian churches on some of those, there is vigorous debate on others.
In short, while you’ll never find unanimity of thought in the Presbyterian church, you will often find people who consider no question or issue off limits as they try to love, honor, and seek God with their all their mind. You’ll also find Presbyterian members and congregations who are passionate about demonstrating the presence of God in the realities of this world through serving others in their time of need, not only pointing to God’s promise to life beyond the tomb. The Presbyterian Church: it’s a great place to come with your thorniest questions and deepest yearnings. The Spirit is at work in our churches (as in other churches), drawing people to itself as God continues to reconcile the world to himself in Christ.
Monday, October 6, 2008
A Brief History of Communion
In the early years after Jesus’ death and resurrection, communities of his followers began gathering on Sunday evenings (“the Lord’s day,” because it was the day of his resurrection) to share in a common meal and worship together. These early communities had members from across a socioeconomic and ethnic spectrum. Becoming a community of compassion and generosity was sometimes accomplished spontaneously by the work of the Holy Spirit, but other times early Christian groups resisted allowing those qualities to flourish among them.
For example, word came to the Apostle Paul that people in the church at Corinth in Greece were hoarding the food and drink they brought to this meal rather than sharing it with those among them who were poor (see 1 Corinthians 11:17-34). Paul lambasted them for their failure to allow this special meal they shared to be what Jesus had created it to be—a time in which his sacrifice for them was remembered in their willingness to sacrifice and live for one another, and a time in which his presence was invited and welcomed by their willingness to be made more like him.
The focus simply had to be returned to the original intent. “Whoever, therefore,” Paul stated, “eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves.”
A great summary of the early observation of the Lord’s Supper comes from an article by Henk Jan de Jonge titled “The Early History of the Lord’s Supper”: “The purpose of the community meal was the realization of the communion (koinonia, including equality, fellowship, solidarity, and brotherhood) which the members of the congregation felt they missed so badly in the outside world…[and to] bring about the koinonia that is its goal: koinonia with Christ and with one another” (pp. 210, 213).
The same author shows how an additional, but abbreviated, meal and worship service before dawn on Sundays eventually superseded the fuller evening meal as the one of greater importance in Christian communities, resulting in our present observation of the Lord’s Supper only being symbolic of a full meal shared in community. Apparently the growth of the church made the full meal shared by the whole community logistically prohibitive.
Nevertheless, one of the central meanings of the sacrament remains: that in the sharing of this holy meal, the entire community is united—across ethnic and socioeconomic boundaries, to name a few—to one another and to Christ.
Another development in how we celebrate the Lord’s Supper evolved over a period of centuries. An emphasis on the mystery of the sacrament and on the concern that one could inadvertently “eat and drink judgment against themselves” led to people being distanced from the Lord’s table. Physically, this became a reality as the table was placed on the raised chancel area and as far as possible from the congregation. Often, a small “fence” (more like a short railing on a deck) was placed at the edge of the chancel, creating further separation between the people and the table.
By the time of the Reformation in the 1500’s, most Christians rarely, if ever, participated in the Lord’s Supper. The mass (worship service) was conducted in Latin, a language most people didn’t understand. A portion of the communion service was done far from the people, sometimes even behind a screen to obstruct their view. The bread and wine were proclaimed to literally be transformed into human flesh and blood—that of Jesus. The wine was withheld from the people because the “blood of Christ” was too precious for them. All these factors led devout Christians to resist partaking of the Lord’s Supper.
Several changes took place during the Reformation. One was to begin serving communion just once per quarter. As Protestant churches over the last 40 years have increased the frequency of the Lord’s Supper to once a month or more, many members have been concerned that if it is taken too often, it loses its meaning. The irony is that it was decreased in frequency from weekly to quarterly to actually encourage Christians to take it more often, not less. With the removal of the impediments that were in place at the time of the Reformation, some Protestant communities have resumed weekly observance of this holy meal.
A second change that occurred during the Reformation was in how the elements (the bread and wine) were served to the church members. The Reformers returned to a doctrine of “the priesthood of all believers” that changed the role of the clergy from priest (necessary intermediary between people and God) to pastor (shepherd of a community).
To represent that change in its services of the Lord’s Supper, Huldrych Zwingli brought a new innovation to the meal: he sent the trays of bread and cups of wine into the congregation where members could serve one another. Many Protestant churches still use this as their primary, or even only, form of serving Communion.
In the early 1960’s, the Vatican II reforms of the Roman Catholic Church at long last implemented many of the changes Protestants had embraced in the Reformation. The combination of this movement in the Roman Catholic church with the ecumenical movement at work in the Protestant wing of Christianity led many Protestant churches to reconsider practices from historic Christianity that had been rejected by the Reformers in their zeal to distance themselves from Rome.
As a result, colored paraments (the cloths on the communion table, pulpit, and lectern), Advent candles, and using a “lectionary” (a three-year plan for alternating biblical texts used in worship) have all found their way back into Protestant worship without diluting the theology of the Reformation.
Similarly, Protestant churches have begun exploring different ways of serving communion. As with Zwingli’s innovation about 450 years ago, the changes feel odd, even threatening to some of us, but they also allow different theological points to be highlighted.
Intinction is one method being used by Protestants today. In this form of distributing communion, members generally come forward (though it can be done in the pews) and tear off a piece of bread from a single loaf. They then dip that bread in a cup filled with juice or wine and thereby receive both elements together. Many who enjoy this way of participating in the Lord’s Supper enjoy tearing “real” bread (not crackers, wafers, or sandwich bread) from a common loaf, coming forward to receive the elements individually, using earthen pottery rather than polished silver to remind them of Jesus’ eating the Last Supper with common people, and hearing from a church leader (lay or clergy), “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
On the first Sunday in October, we celebrate “World Communion Sunday.” We will receive the bread and the cup in our traditional way...in the pews.
This will be a great opportunity to focus more on what the sacrament means for us than on how it’s served. It will also be a time to be reminded that our uniting with Christ unites us with people from across the globe. I hope you’ll be able to join us this Sunday!
Grace & Peace,
Dan
For example, word came to the Apostle Paul that people in the church at Corinth in Greece were hoarding the food and drink they brought to this meal rather than sharing it with those among them who were poor (see 1 Corinthians 11:17-34). Paul lambasted them for their failure to allow this special meal they shared to be what Jesus had created it to be—a time in which his sacrifice for them was remembered in their willingness to sacrifice and live for one another, and a time in which his presence was invited and welcomed by their willingness to be made more like him.
The focus simply had to be returned to the original intent. “Whoever, therefore,” Paul stated, “eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves.”
A great summary of the early observation of the Lord’s Supper comes from an article by Henk Jan de Jonge titled “The Early History of the Lord’s Supper”: “The purpose of the community meal was the realization of the communion (koinonia, including equality, fellowship, solidarity, and brotherhood) which the members of the congregation felt they missed so badly in the outside world…[and to] bring about the koinonia that is its goal: koinonia with Christ and with one another” (pp. 210, 213).
The same author shows how an additional, but abbreviated, meal and worship service before dawn on Sundays eventually superseded the fuller evening meal as the one of greater importance in Christian communities, resulting in our present observation of the Lord’s Supper only being symbolic of a full meal shared in community. Apparently the growth of the church made the full meal shared by the whole community logistically prohibitive.
Nevertheless, one of the central meanings of the sacrament remains: that in the sharing of this holy meal, the entire community is united—across ethnic and socioeconomic boundaries, to name a few—to one another and to Christ.
Another development in how we celebrate the Lord’s Supper evolved over a period of centuries. An emphasis on the mystery of the sacrament and on the concern that one could inadvertently “eat and drink judgment against themselves” led to people being distanced from the Lord’s table. Physically, this became a reality as the table was placed on the raised chancel area and as far as possible from the congregation. Often, a small “fence” (more like a short railing on a deck) was placed at the edge of the chancel, creating further separation between the people and the table.
By the time of the Reformation in the 1500’s, most Christians rarely, if ever, participated in the Lord’s Supper. The mass (worship service) was conducted in Latin, a language most people didn’t understand. A portion of the communion service was done far from the people, sometimes even behind a screen to obstruct their view. The bread and wine were proclaimed to literally be transformed into human flesh and blood—that of Jesus. The wine was withheld from the people because the “blood of Christ” was too precious for them. All these factors led devout Christians to resist partaking of the Lord’s Supper.
Several changes took place during the Reformation. One was to begin serving communion just once per quarter. As Protestant churches over the last 40 years have increased the frequency of the Lord’s Supper to once a month or more, many members have been concerned that if it is taken too often, it loses its meaning. The irony is that it was decreased in frequency from weekly to quarterly to actually encourage Christians to take it more often, not less. With the removal of the impediments that were in place at the time of the Reformation, some Protestant communities have resumed weekly observance of this holy meal.
A second change that occurred during the Reformation was in how the elements (the bread and wine) were served to the church members. The Reformers returned to a doctrine of “the priesthood of all believers” that changed the role of the clergy from priest (necessary intermediary between people and God) to pastor (shepherd of a community).
To represent that change in its services of the Lord’s Supper, Huldrych Zwingli brought a new innovation to the meal: he sent the trays of bread and cups of wine into the congregation where members could serve one another. Many Protestant churches still use this as their primary, or even only, form of serving Communion.
In the early 1960’s, the Vatican II reforms of the Roman Catholic Church at long last implemented many of the changes Protestants had embraced in the Reformation. The combination of this movement in the Roman Catholic church with the ecumenical movement at work in the Protestant wing of Christianity led many Protestant churches to reconsider practices from historic Christianity that had been rejected by the Reformers in their zeal to distance themselves from Rome.
As a result, colored paraments (the cloths on the communion table, pulpit, and lectern), Advent candles, and using a “lectionary” (a three-year plan for alternating biblical texts used in worship) have all found their way back into Protestant worship without diluting the theology of the Reformation.
Similarly, Protestant churches have begun exploring different ways of serving communion. As with Zwingli’s innovation about 450 years ago, the changes feel odd, even threatening to some of us, but they also allow different theological points to be highlighted.
Intinction is one method being used by Protestants today. In this form of distributing communion, members generally come forward (though it can be done in the pews) and tear off a piece of bread from a single loaf. They then dip that bread in a cup filled with juice or wine and thereby receive both elements together. Many who enjoy this way of participating in the Lord’s Supper enjoy tearing “real” bread (not crackers, wafers, or sandwich bread) from a common loaf, coming forward to receive the elements individually, using earthen pottery rather than polished silver to remind them of Jesus’ eating the Last Supper with common people, and hearing from a church leader (lay or clergy), “This is the body of Christ broken for you.”
On the first Sunday in October, we celebrate “World Communion Sunday.” We will receive the bread and the cup in our traditional way...in the pews.
This will be a great opportunity to focus more on what the sacrament means for us than on how it’s served. It will also be a time to be reminded that our uniting with Christ unites us with people from across the globe. I hope you’ll be able to join us this Sunday!
Grace & Peace,
Dan
The Problem of Black and White
Here's my latest submission to the Sand Springs Leader (local newspaper) and the editor's response to it:
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=20152570&BRD=2754&PAG=461&dept_id=612242&rfi=6
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=20152451&BRD=2754&PAG=461&dept_id=574610&rfi=6
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=20152570&BRD=2754&PAG=461&dept_id=612242&rfi=6
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=20152451&BRD=2754&PAG=461&dept_id=574610&rfi=6
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