Friday, February 27, 2009

Lessons From a "Lent-Free" Heritage

I don't remember hearing anything about Lent in my church when I was growing up. Now it's very possible that I simply wasn't paying attention - I've been known to do that - but honestly, I think Lent was something that was just not a part of our language or tradition. It was one of those practices we tended to identify with those "other" churches, the ones we viewed as being caught up in ritual and formality. As evangelicals in the holiness tradition, it wasn't our thing. So, most of the people I looked to in my formative years either didn't think about Lent at all or dismissed it as irrelevant. I now believe that I missed out on something all those years.

I have come to embrace the observance of the Lenten season as something beneficial and spiritually renewing. To set aside a period of time for fasting and spiritual reflection sharpens my focus and attention on the things of God's Kingdom, it brings a new awareness and sensitivity to the voice of the Spirit. As I move toward the celebration of Christ's resurrection, listening with deliberate intention, I am changed, seeing and understanding more of what it means to truly pick up the cross and be a follower of Jesus. Lenten practices have, for me, proven to be more than rituals or irrelevant traditions; they have become instruments of God's transforming grace.

I am not the only one in my tradition to have made this discovery. Many of our churches have found an appreciation for the Lenten season and have embraced it as a part of their worship and spiritual practice. Back when I was young (which is getting further away all the time), I had never heard of a Nazarene church holding an Ash Wednesday service. Now, I can name several that do so. Personally, I'm glad to see it.

My reflection on this has made it apparent to me once again that, sometimes, we end up cutting ourselves off from good and beneficial expressions of the faith simply because we think they belong to that "other" group. Churches naturally tend to emphasize their particular distinctive, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. There are theological and doctrinal differences that exist, and those should not be diminished or ignored. However, we can become so concerned about avoiding or countering the distinctive understandings of other traditions that we end up diminishing or neglecting significant aspects of Christian faith and practice.

While points of disagreement certainly do exist among the various traditions of the Church, our reaction to those disagreements has too often pushed us to reject too much. We have neglected various styles of worship, ignored certain spiritual disciplines, and even, at times, diminished the sacraments because we associate them with another tradition that has points of disagreement with our own. Yes, the points of disagreement matter, but so do the points of agreement. Certainly we can acknowledge both and learn from one another. For those in my church who start to get a little nervous with this kind of talk, let me remind you that the historical statement in the Manual of the Church of the Nazarene begins this way: The Church of the Nazarene, from its beginnings, has confessed itself to be a branch of the "one, holy, universal, and apostolic" church and has sought to be faithful to it. . . As its own people, it embraces the people of God through the ages, those redeemed through Jesus Christ in whatever expression of the one church they may be found.
May that be more than just words for us; may it be a truth revealed in our spirit and practice. Some things are not confined to the categories of Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, Nazarene, Baptist, Pentecostal, Lutheran, mainline, evangelical, traditional, contemporary, and so on. Some things are just Christian, an expression of the "one, holy, universal, and apostolic" church. To lose them is to lose part of who we are, and we do so to our own detriment.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Leaving Gracefully

As a pastor, it always hurt when someone decided to leave the church. Even when they assured me that it was nothing "personal," I never seemed to have the ability to receive it that way. And of course, there were those times when it was truly "personal." Those encounters usually left me second-guessing myself and in a crisis of confidence for weeks. At the same time, I know it is a part of church life in this present reality. There will be times when someone decides that the best thing for them is to find another place to worship, connect, and serve. It may be a matter of style or personality, or it might be a different vision or understanding of what is needed. Whatever the reason, it happens. And despite the hurt I felt as a pastor, let me say this: I did come to appreciate those who knew how to leave gracefully.

Given a choice between the person who leaves and the one who stays just to be a pain in the rear end, determined to win at all costs, I have to choose the one who leaves. I can appreciate those who are more concerned about the welfare of the church than they are about winning the battle.

Given a choice between the person who disappears without warning and the one who discusses the issues with the pastor before making a decision, I will always take the one who is open and honest. I have to commend those who follow the Biblical directive for handling disagreement and demonstrate the courage and respect to speak with the pastor directly about their issues of concern.

Given a choice between the people who share their reasons for leaving only with those who truly need to know and the ones who broadcast their displeasure to anyone and everyone, I'll take the ones who know when not to speak. Unnecessarily drawing others into our personal issues of complaint will do nothing but spread dissension and disunity, compelling others to take sides.

Given a choice between people who truly leave and move on and those who leave, but continue to try and stir dissension at the church they left, I unquestionably opt for those who know how to let it go. I respect those who recognize that once they leave a church, they are no longer in a position to criticize or try and influence the direction of that church.

Given a choice between people who leave with a spirit of affirmation, love, and blessing, and those who stomp out in anger, bitterness, and the desire for retribution - well, the choice is pretty obvious if we're going to call ourselves followers of Jesus. And yes, it is possible to part ways with a genuine spirit of love, desiring and praying for God's blessing on one another.

I never wanted anyone to leave my church. Okay, there may have been moments when I wished some of them would go away, but in the end, it was a hurtful experience when someone actually left. I also know there will always be times, for a variety of reasons, when it happens. And when it does, all of us need to remember that the way of Jesus is not one of spreading hurt and destruction, but one of love and blessing. So pastor, when they say they are leaving, send them on their way with a genuine prayer for God's blessing. And on the other side, if you believe it is best for you to find another church, please do so with no desire or attempt to hurt and destroy. If you feel you must leave, then leave gracefully.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Love and Thunder

You have to like the disciples James and John, the ones Jesus nicknamed the "Sons of Thunder." How cool is that? Sounds like the ring name for some professional tag-team wrestlers. And they not only had the name - they had the attitude to match. When they experienced rejection from a particular village, their immediate reaction was to ask Jesus, "Do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" Nice. Notice they didn't bother asking Jesus if He was going to call down fire; they were excited about the prospect of doing it themselves. It's pretty clear that this wasn't a case of an opposite kind of nickname, like calling a really big guy "Tiny." The name actually fit them well, and maybe at times, it fits us all too well.

Like James and John, we can find it easy, and perhaps even enjoyable, to call down the thunder. We look out at a world that is broken and depraved, and our reaction is to call for judgment and painful destruction. After all, somebody needs to straighten this place out and give these people what they deserve. And we don't call down the fire just on those out in the world, either. Sometimes we even delight in swinging the hammer of judgment on those inside the church because of what we believe to be misguided notions or methods. It's all with the best of intentions, of course, and with the clear justification of defending what is right and good. And almost without noticing, we cross the line from defending the truth to delighting in the destruction of others. In a passing conversation, I once heard a professing Christian make the remark, "I can't wait for Jesus to return and kick some rear-ends." The "Sons of Thunder" surely live.

Jesus, however, has this tendency to mess up the stuff that seems to come so naturally to us, things like judging others and enjoying it. When James and John wanted to call down the fire, Jesus did not give them a smile and nod, recognizing that they were simply standing for what was right. Scripture tells us that he rebuked them; He told them to knock it off because that type of attitude did not reflect His heart and spirit. You see, Jesus was serious about this love thing. It's not about just loving good people and blessing those that agree with us. The love that Jesus calls us to is one without condition, one that prays for those who hurt us and blesses those who curse us. It does not delight in judgment, but longs for redemption and reconciliation. This love does not rejoice in calling down the thunder.

For the followers of Jesus, the reality of judgment does not equate to the enjoyment of it. The path we follow is not one of taking joy in calling down the fire, but one of lifting up prayers for those who are lost and broken. Instead of crying out for destruction, we must become people who cry out for the redemption and deliverance of those in bondage. Rather than shouting words of condemnation, we are called to empty ourselves and take the place of a servant. This is the way of Jesus, the One who prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."