This morning I've been thinking a lot about why it sometimes seems like conversations between self-proclaimed liberal Christians and conservative Christians hardly ever seem to get anywhere. If I'm honest I fall into the former camp, even if I may not like the stigmas associated with those kinds of labels. So as a liberal Christian, generally spending my time with other liberal Christians, the verse I hear quoted most often is Micah 6:8- "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?"
It seems so simple.
Do justice.
Love mercy.
Walk humbly.
Now I'm not sure that anyone is really very good at humility, but at least it's easily agreed upon, and people try. At least, I am able to make it through my day claiming the name of Christian by hoping that humility is one of the things we strive for.
Mercy is the same way. I don't think anyone would disagree that mercy is something we are called to. We may not live it out all the time, but we're working on it.
Really, it's justice where we hit a snag. Do justice. Do what is fair. Do what is right. Do what is deserved- that's what justice means. Administer the response that is deserved.
The disagreement , it seems, is over what is deserved. What does this person or that group deserve?
If you think that they deserve judgement and punishment for the choices they make- or worse, for who they are- and I think that they deserve love no matter who they are or what they've done, then yeah, we're going to have an issue. So what does justice look like?
What I keep coming back to is the fact that I am called, first and foremost, to love. Love God, love everyone else. And loving means being patient and kind, not rude or boastful or selfish or irritable, and keeping no record of wrongs but rejoicing in truth. It means wanting what is best for the other person even if it makes me uncomfortable to do so. If God loves me despite everything I've done and calls me to do the same- and even moreso if I believe that God does the same for everyone- then who can I possibly judge? How can I do anything, or think that anyone deserves anything, but love? What could justice possibly look like besides extending my hand in peace and mercy to everyone I see?
So we come back to loving mercy and walking humbly. Doing justice means both of those things. Being a Christian and being just means loving to be kind, loving to extend mercy. It means being humble enough to recognize that the decision about what anyone truly deserves is beyond me.
I don't know if this kind of thinking will be enough to move anyone's conversations forward, but I keep going because I believe that love changes hearts. Love changes the world. And that's what justice looks like.
(Crossposted on OnFire)
Monday, November 21, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
The Church in One Service
This might not be my best post ever, but I just need to take a minute to acknowledge how beautiful my congregation's service was yesterday. It felt like just about everything that the Church does all wrapped up into one service.
First, yesterday was All Saints Sunday- the first Sunday after All Saints Day (November 1) when we remember the saints who have gone before us. This year was particularly difficult for me. November 4 was the anniversary of my grandfather's funeral and today is one month since the death of my good friend's father. In place of a sermon there was a microphone for people to come up and share the names of those they were remembering, especially those who've died in the last year, and then each person lit a candle for every name that they shared. The candles were in the windowsills all around the sanctuary, representing the "great cloud of witnesses" that surrounds us. It was a beautiful image, and I thought I could be strong, share my names, and enjoy the beauty of the moment. Nope. I'm not sure that anyone even heard the second name, and I could barely see the candles as I lit them. It was a good kind of cry, though, the kind that really does make you feel better when you're done, and the just bask in the peace of so many remembered loved ones. The strength of generations of ancestors and examples was tangible.
From remembering our past we shifted to looking to the future as we celebrated the baptism of a good friend of mine who moved here from Iran several months ago. She is a dear, beautiful person, and her joy and excitement was absolutely catching. Her desire to learn and keep asking hard questions is inspiring. After she'd been baptized, she and another friend joined our congregation. Watching two young adults join a "dying" Church was truly beautiful. It made me wonder what exactly would draw them to a congregation- what people my age are looking for. If I had to narrow it down, I'd say that it's three things: the presence of honest, deep relationships, the space to ask deep questions and have deep conversations, and the opportunity to serve together in a way that makes a difference in the world.
That brings me to the last part of the service. Not only was it All Saints Sunday and a baptism Sunday, but it was also a Communion Sunday. I already wrote an entire post about how important I think Communion is so I won't go into that again, but I just want to say how perfect it was as the end of this service. We had remembered, we had welcomed and celebrated, and in Communion we were made one and sent out to be the Church in the world. The only thing that could have made this service a more perfect picture of the life of the Church is if we had gone out and actually served together in some way that afternoon. Nonetheless, it was beautiful.
So. That might not be the most typical service at my congregation, but it's a decent description of what we do as the Church. Remember. Welcome. Celebrate. Give thanks. Share. Send. Serve.
First, yesterday was All Saints Sunday- the first Sunday after All Saints Day (November 1) when we remember the saints who have gone before us. This year was particularly difficult for me. November 4 was the anniversary of my grandfather's funeral and today is one month since the death of my good friend's father. In place of a sermon there was a microphone for people to come up and share the names of those they were remembering, especially those who've died in the last year, and then each person lit a candle for every name that they shared. The candles were in the windowsills all around the sanctuary, representing the "great cloud of witnesses" that surrounds us. It was a beautiful image, and I thought I could be strong, share my names, and enjoy the beauty of the moment. Nope. I'm not sure that anyone even heard the second name, and I could barely see the candles as I lit them. It was a good kind of cry, though, the kind that really does make you feel better when you're done, and the just bask in the peace of so many remembered loved ones. The strength of generations of ancestors and examples was tangible.
From remembering our past we shifted to looking to the future as we celebrated the baptism of a good friend of mine who moved here from Iran several months ago. She is a dear, beautiful person, and her joy and excitement was absolutely catching. Her desire to learn and keep asking hard questions is inspiring. After she'd been baptized, she and another friend joined our congregation. Watching two young adults join a "dying" Church was truly beautiful. It made me wonder what exactly would draw them to a congregation- what people my age are looking for. If I had to narrow it down, I'd say that it's three things: the presence of honest, deep relationships, the space to ask deep questions and have deep conversations, and the opportunity to serve together in a way that makes a difference in the world.
That brings me to the last part of the service. Not only was it All Saints Sunday and a baptism Sunday, but it was also a Communion Sunday. I already wrote an entire post about how important I think Communion is so I won't go into that again, but I just want to say how perfect it was as the end of this service. We had remembered, we had welcomed and celebrated, and in Communion we were made one and sent out to be the Church in the world. The only thing that could have made this service a more perfect picture of the life of the Church is if we had gone out and actually served together in some way that afternoon. Nonetheless, it was beautiful.
So. That might not be the most typical service at my congregation, but it's a decent description of what we do as the Church. Remember. Welcome. Celebrate. Give thanks. Share. Send. Serve.
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