Categories
Religious

Fast Food Religion

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University
  
“Look! I’m standing at the door and knocking. If any hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to be with them, and will have dinner with them, and they will have dinner with me.”
Revelation 3:20 (Common English Bible)

We live in a world of fast food religion. In the breathless hustle and bustle of modern life, we all too often find ourselves without the time, without the means, or without the energy to devote ourselves fully to belief, so we settle for bite-sized servings of faith, prepackaged, precooked, pre-delivered. Difficult concepts and truths get chopped, frozen, and flash-fried into simple aphorisms and decontextualized verses to give ourselves a warm, fuzzy feeling of comfort. Consider Revelation 3:20, a favorite of fast food religion, one that promises that Jesus is at the door to our lives knocking, waiting for us to let him in. Go to any store that sells religious tchotchkes and you’ll inevitably find a refrigerator magnet or painting referencing this verse, usually featuring a barefoot, white-robed Jesus expectantly knocking on a literal door, eager to be let inside. The message is simple: Jesus is always there, waiting to be let into our lives if only we’d listen. And yes, Jesus is always at the door of our lives, knocking to be let inside. But much like a fast food cheeseburger, slightly cold and greasy, it only provides so much nutrition, and one certainly can’t sustain a healthy diet eating it every day. The truth, the deeper meaning, is much more complicated and difficult. But much like a proper home-cooked meal, prepared with love and careful attention, the results are worth the effort.
The key to understanding this verse is its larger context within the book of Revelation. To most, the last book of the Bible is a wellspring of apocalyptic visions and awe-full imagery—multi-headed dragons and multi-colored horsemen wreaking havoc on a doomed world of unrepentant sinners. But the book itself was actually a letter written to the “Seven Churches of Asia” located in modern day Turkey that made up much of early Christendom. As such, the first several chapters of Revelation are highly specific messages admonishing and encouraging them. Revelation 3:20 is part of the larger message to the church in Laodicea, the easternmost of the seven and also one of the wealthiest, an ancient banking hub and manufacturer of medicinal eye salve and a luxurious black wool used for expensive black clothing. Such was their wealth that within the span of a few decades they managed to completely rebuild their city not once but twice following a series of deadly earthquakes—and all without imperial aid. And what does John of Patmos, the author of Revelation, say to this city of wealth and luxury? “You don’t realize that you are miserable, pathetic, poor, blind, and naked.” (Revelation 3:17 CEB)
Take a closer look at 3:20, specifically what John writes after the over-digested bit about God knocking at their door. I will come in and have dinner with them, he writes, and they will have dinner with me. Biblical scholars believe that John wasn’t being metaphorical here but literal—the meal is the sacrament of communion, and Christ is asking to be let in to share it. All this begs the question: how were the Laodiceans eating? The answer, again according to biblical scholars, was probably at the tables of their Roman neighbors, feasting on the sacred meat sacrificed to pagan gods, the consumption of which ensured upward financial mobility and consolidated class status. The Laodiceans church may have been Christians, but they were lukewarm ones who compromised their faith with foreign rituals to increase and protect their wealth.
Suddenly Revelation 3:20 doesn’t fit the mold of fast food religion anymore. It’s no pithy reminder of God’s omnipotence, but a call to reject the world of its sinful trappings and to embrace the true community of Christ. Turn away from the meat of the Romans and partake of the bread of Christ, it commands; drink from the living water promised to the Samaritan woman at the well in the Gospel of John from which none ever thirst again. To sit at this table, to eat of this meal is to set oneself apart from the world and all its alluring trappings. It’s a difficult order, particularly for those accustomed to luxury and easy living. But it’s a necessary one. Only then can the banquet—home-cooked and piping hot—truly begin.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Copper Kettle Christians

“There will be signs in the sun, moon, and stars. On the earth, there will be dismay among nations in their confusion over the roaring of the sea and surging waves. The planets and other heavenly bodies will be shaken, causing people to faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world. Then they will see the Human One coming on a cloud with power and great splendor.”
Luke 21:25-27 (Common English Bible)
            When Abraham Lincoln stood to deliver the Gettysburg Address, he added two words that were not in the address as originally written. Written on the pages before him were the words, “That this nation shall have a new birth of freedom…” However, when Lincoln actually delivered that line, what he spoke was, “That this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…” Those two words have now become a rich part of our national vocabulary. However, when Lincoln added those two words, unplanned and freely, it was unusual. What Lincoln sought to do is declare his deep and abiding conviction that the destinies of all people and their governments, including this one, are not beyond the reach and activity of God. It is precisely this conviction that Luke’s Gospel declares. When the unusual appears in the sky and upon the earth it will not be a phenomenon apart from God. It will be an intentional act of God, God “coming on a cloud with power and great splendor.”
            Occasionally, there emerges a fascination and speculation of when the end of the world is drawing near. Some will make observations that seem to suggest that the end is imminent. Luke’s Gospel is not critical of such contemplation of the end – Jesus himself engaging in such contemplation. However, Jesus’ contemplation is not for the sake of marking a date on the calendar. Its purpose is for sanctifying the present moment. Rather than concern for a specific date when the world will end, this teaching has to do with discipleship, what it means to follow Christ both in our behavior and in relationship with others. The “Human One” is returning to earth. Life will not go on forever, day after day, year after year, without some conclusion. All of history is moving toward an end. That knowledge is for positively influencing the decisions made today, decisions of the manner in which we live.
            A significant shift of thought appears at the thirty-sixth verse, “Stay alert at all times.” What does that look like in the lives of disciples today? What spiritual practices or disciplines are available that will keep our eyes focused upon God’s presence and work today? This is a call to intentional activity, not a passive waiting for the end. Here is a summons that we live purposefully, deriving our strength for living faithfully from the exercise of prayer. Spiritual disciplines, such as worshipping regularly, praying daily, learning and applying God’s word, participating in a ministry, and giving financially to the work of the church are means by which we begin to imitate Jesus. They are the means by which we give ourselves over to the work of the Holy Spirit in such a manner that we see the image of God increase in our heart. Simply, such spiritual disciplines are how we take responsibility for our own growth, how we honor Christ’s call to “Stay alert.”
            Richard Gribble tells a helpful story of a woman who made a discovery quite accidentally in her basement. One day she noticed some forgotten potatoes had sprouted in the darkest corner of the room. At first, she could not figure out how they had received any light to grow. Then she noticed that she had hung a copper kettle from a rafter near the cellar window. She kept the kettle so brightly polished that it reflected the rays of the sun from the small window onto the potatoes. She would later say to a friend that when she saw that reflection, and the growth that it nurtured, she realized that she can be a “copper kettle Christian” – she can catch the rays of the Son of God and reflect his light to some dark corner of life. This teaching of Jesus announces that in that last day, each of us will “stand before the Human One.” Perhaps there is no better preparation for that future day than learning to reflect his light in the present.
Joy,

Categories
Religious

A Life Unnoticed

“One poor widow came forward and put in two small copper coins worth a penny. Jesus called his disciples to him and said, ‘I assure you that this poor widow has put in more than everyone who’s been putting money in the treasury.’”
Mark 12:42, 43 (Common English Bible)

              Tom Tewell once shared with me that the deepest brokenness experienced by the homeless is that they go unnoticed. The desire that others see them and acknowledge them, the longing that others acknowledge them as people who share this earth with them, is deeper than the hunger of an empty stomach or the fear for personal safety. Every person longs for a sense of value, for love, and for recognition. The homeless are no different. Nor are the homeless alone in this struggle. People who are older and single, those who struggle with addiction, and the under-resourced all experience the fear of remaining unnoticed. We do not live in the most compassionate of times, and such people join the great shuffle – where our communities move them out of sight and mind. Our full and frantic lives may be partly to blame. We simply do not have the time or emotional energy to acknowledge these people and be available to them.
              Here, in Mark’s Gospel, there are two stories at play, each unfolding simultaneously. The legal experts comprise that cast for the first narrative, a poor widow in a solo performance for the second narrative. In the first story, the legal experts go to considerable effort that others see them for their devotion and sacrifice. In the second story, a widow has probably abandoned any hope that anyone will ever notice her again. There is no attempt by this woman to ensure that people see her. She simply makes her gift to the temple treasury from an impulse of faith, an impulse that discloses her quiet gratitude and trust in God. Jesus notices both, the legal experts and the woman. Yet, what is remarkable in this text is that those who desired an audience received Jesus’ displeasure. The one who did not seek any notice is held-up by Jesus as an honorable example of authentic discipleship.
              The poor widow is invisible – that is, invisible to everyone except Jesus. Moreover, what Jesus sees is that the woman is contributing – however small – to a cause that is larger than her own life. There are “invisible” people in our communities who feel unattractive, have little to offer anyone, and are lonely. The despair that they experience makes moving through each day unbearable. Each invisible person in our orbit presents an opportunity to share the companionship and compassion of Christ. An invitation to dinner, to family celebrations, and even acknowledging their birthdays, proclaims that they are people with dignity and worth. We are the children of a God who notices and protects the unnoticed, and therefore, we are to be agents of Gods’ protecting and providing grace. Additionally, we are to recall that the woman’s gift reminds us that each person has something to contribute to the work of the church.
              Perhaps the deepest impact any church can have on a community is to invest in the lives of persons who may go unnoticed where we live. There is a story in Jewish tradition of a rabbi who was so holy that the rumor developed that on Sabbath afternoons he ascended into heaven to personally commune with God. The rumor grew from the observation that this rabbi simply seemed to disappear from sight in the local community until the end of day. Several boys decided to follow, in secret, the rabbi. Throughout the afternoon and into the early evening, they saw the rabbi go into the homes of the elderly, the sick, and the poor. He cooked meals, cleaned homes, and read scripture to the lonely. The next day the people inquired of the boys; did the rabbi really ascend into heaven? The boys answered, “No. He went much higher.”
Joy,

Categories
Religious

Be Glad In the Lord Always

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood\’s son, 
Nathanael Hood, M.A., New York University

\”Be glad in the Lord always! Again I say, be glad! Let your gentleness show in your treatment of all people. The Lord is near. Don’t be anxious about anything; rather, bring up all of your requests to God in your prayers and petitions, along with giving thanks. Then the peace of God that exceeds all understanding will keep your hearts and minds safe in Christ Jesus.\”
Philippians 4:4-7 (Common English Bible)
Chorus class was always my favorite part of Vacation Bible School growing up outside of Dallas. Fingers sticky from lollipops and popsicles, arms bruised from roughhousing and Red Rover, we’d sit there in the small choir room sucking in sweet lungfuls of air-conditioning as the Texas sun baked the brown grass and cracked pavement outside. We’d sing as well as any group of sun-dazed kiddies could, sometimes accompanied by a white-haired elder on the piano, sometimes by a cassette tape of a children’s choir tunelessly warbling and shouting their way through song after song. Some I remember fondly, like “Jesus Loves the Little Children” which my missionary mother taught us to sing in English, Portuguese, and Tshiluba. Some I remember rather less than fondly: “I’ve Got the Joy, Joy, Joy Down in My Heart” always grated on me; its descending verses always made me feel strangely tired and drowsy.
But one of our favorites—and one we’d always sing when we’d inevitably get dragged out before the congregation the Sunday morning after VBS ended—was “Rejoice in the Lord Always.” With its simply, repetitive lyrics and incessantly catchy melody, it became a standard part of our repertoire, especially after one of those white-haired elders figured out you could punctuate the verses with claps.
“Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice!” *Clap clap*
“Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice!” *Clap clap*
The parents always loved that. And we did too. (Any excuse to raise an unholy ruckus in the sanctuary, I suppose.) The hymn is a direct quotation of Philippians 4:4, a standard and popular passage for lectionaries, particularly during Advent. With its simple and forceful declaration to celebrate in the nearness and power of God, it’s exactly the kind of easy reassurance and encouragement that makes up the lifeblood of mainline Christianity. Don’t think too hard about the world or one’s suffering. Rejoice! Be thankful! Show gratitude! Clap clap!
Of course, the text\’s context was considerably less cheery. Philippians was one of the many letters Paul wrote while imprisoned by the Romans, and the church itself in Philippi was perhaps faring little better. Settled largely by Roman veterans of military campaigns waged by Mark Antony and Octavian following the assassination of Julius Caesar, this wealthy settlement in northeast Greece was a nerve center of Rome\’s civic religion, revering nearly thirty-five deities. Unlike Paul\’s earlier church plants, Philippi was largely comprised of pagans and gentiles, not Jews. It was the first Christian community in Europe, and the persecution they faced under the watchful eye of the Romans, the constant danger of betrayal and fear, must have been incredible.
Yet Paul tells them not only to rejoice in the Lord, but to abandon their anxiousness. Understand, this was not an act of surrender but one of defiance. This was not a meek and meager apostle writing these words, but a prisoner who knew his execution and martyrdom were both likely and imminent. Notice carefully Paul’s wording: be “glad” in the Lord, not “happy” in the Lord. He isn’t telling the church at Philippi to ignore their persecution but to look beyond it to the Christ that surrounds and embraces them. The promise of Christ—the promise of the empty tomb—is of victory over death and triumph over fear, both from without and within. We trust in a God who hears our prayers and knows our suffering—what a blessing compared to the pagan gods of Rome with their insatiable appetites and capricious moods! We may not know what the future holds, Paul writes, but we do know who holds the future. Clap clap!
Joy,

Categories
Religious

Until That Hour

“As Jesus left the temple, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Teacher, look! 
What awesome stones and buildings!’ 
Jesus responded, ‘Do you see these enormous buildings? 
Not even one stone will be left upon another. All will be demolished.’”
Mark 13: 1, 2 (Common English Bible)
Someone once remarked that the reason we stumble through life is that our focus is on the wrong thing. That is precisely the dynamic of this story from Mark’s thirteenth chapter; the disciples’ focus is on the “awesome stones and buildings” (v. 1). Jesus shifts their focus from the present to the future, “Do you see these enormous buildings? Not even one stone will be left upon another. All will be demolished.” The disciples had chosen as their focus that day, the wrong thing. Jesus then announces that evil is expanding – that things are going to get worse – and that all disciples had the responsibility to “watch out;” to be ready for the end. Yet, Jesus tells his disciples, “Don’t be alarmed” (v. 7). What Jesus declares is that God is still in charge. Rather than becoming pessimistic about what the future holds, followers of Christ are to be optimistic about God.
This teaching from Mark’s Gospel is an invitation to live today with tomorrow in mind. That is exactly what we do when we wisely invest in an Individual Retirement Account or participate in a company retirement plan – we make a decision today with our retirement in mind. Decisions today are in response to questions such as, “What will my income needs be once I am no longer receiving a paycheck?” Another question might be, “How long do I expect to live?” Both questions affect decisions made today. Jesus asks the same. Jesus is here offering a glimpse of the future so that “until then” disciples may make informed and responsible decisions in the present. Jesus is not satisfied with anyone stumbling spiritually through life. “Here is what the end looks like!” declares Jesus. Decide now how you will move positively toward that future.
Few who lived in Florida at the time will soon forget Hurricane Andrew of August 1992. A class five hurricane, the most forceful and destructive of hurricanes, completely destroyed over 25,000 homes and caused significant damage to another 101,000 homes in South Florida. The day after the destruction, a local news crew arrived in a community where every home was gone, many with only the concrete foundation as evidence that a home was present on a particular site. Every home gone, that is, except one that sustained only minor damage. The owner of that home was in the front yard, cleaning the debris left behind by the storm. The local news reporter approached him with a microphone and a television camera. “Why is it that your house is the only one that stood against the force of the hurricane?” With considerable humility, he answered that he built the house himself, that he built the home according to code that insured that it would withstand hurricane force winds.
Apparently, the builders of the other homes cut corners, saving money by using materials that fell short of code. When the strong winds blew, those homes could not stand. That is precisely the lesson Jesus teaches here. God calls each of us to live lives today deeply rooted in a discipleship to Jesus. The quality of that discipleship prepares us for the coming of “earthquakes and famines in all sorts of places” (v. 8). The end is drawing near. Jesus wants all who hear him to know that we do not have forever. This glimpse into the future is not a call to experience dread and despair. It is a call to focus on living faithfully in the present “just as if” the end will arrive any day. This is not the time to be sloppy in our relationship with Jesus, to be haphazard in our daily time with God reading scripture and praying. “Don’t be alarmed” (v 7) when the world looks hopelessly out of control, says Jesus. God alone will determine the end of time. It belongs to no other power. Our responsibility is to pay attention to God in the present, placing our hope in the Lordship of Jesus Christ who holds the future.
Joy,

Categories
Religious

Ocean

“I know that good doesn’t live in me – that is, in my body. 
The desire to do good is inside of me, 
but I can’t do it. I don’t do the good that I want to do, 
but I do the evil that I don’t want to do.”
Romans 7:18, 19 (Common English Bible)
           Country trio Lady Antebellum released the title track from their album, “Ocean” on September 20, 2019. Co-lead singer, Hillary Scott, said that ‘Ocean’ stands for all of the things that we think and feel when we hear the word. Since its release, considerable liberties to personalize the story of the song and interpret it in a meaningful way for each listener are available on social media. Some interpret ‘Ocean’ as substance abuse, depression, or the difficulties that people confront in their daily lives. For Hillary, it is just seeing the beauty in someone else that they fail to see in themselves in a particular season of a relationship and begging them to open up. Ultimately, what each person hears in the lyrics belongs to the individual.
            I imagine that were the apostle Paul to hear this song, ‘Ocean’ would take on the symbolic image for God, “Here you are, next to me. So much beauty at my feet. All I wanna do is swim. But the waves keep crashin’ in.” Paul sees the vast beauty that is God, desires to swim into its depths and remain there forever, “You’re an ocean, beautiful and blue. I wanna swim in you.” In these few sentences of Paul’s letter to the Roman Church, Paul speaks of his desire – the desire to do good. However, Paul has trouble. “But I can’t do it,” writes Paul. “I don’t do the good that I want to do, but I do the evil that I don’t want to do.” Paul’s frustration and desperation is clear. It is as though something prevents Paul from swimming deep into the presence and life of God, “the waves keep crashin’ in.”
            Paul identifies the trouble in these few sentences, “I know that good doesn’t live in me – that is, in my body.” Sin is operative in Paul’s body. As Paul struggles to swim toward God, struggle to do what is good and pleasing to God, wave after wave of sin comes crashin’ in on Paul keeping him on the shore of the vast ocean that is God. Paul’s plea is clear in the lyrics of the song, “I’m so tired of the shore,” tired of looking out toward God but unable to enter deeply. “The waves, the waves, the waves, the waves.” Paul’s trouble is our trouble. Sin is a powerful enemy that pushes us away from entering the fullness of life in God. Moments stretch into hours into days that we fear that we will never leave the shallow waters of faith, eyes fixed on something more that is unobtainable because of the waves of sin that continue to crash-in on us.
            In the middle of this haunting song, a lyric appears only once, “Baby, look at me and swear you won’t lose me.” Standing on the shore, eyes fixed on the “ocean beautiful and blue” Paul pleas to God. It is also our plea. It is a plea that in our powerlessness to swim past the waves, God will not desert us. “All I wanna do is swim. But the waves keep crashin’ in. No, I’m not afraid to drown.” The song concludes and the listener has only a sense of loneliness. Absent is a positive resolution. Do the waves ultimately prevail? Are they overcome and the lover finally joined with the object of desire, the ocean? It seems that the songwriters have also left that for individual interpretation. Fortunately, for the readers of Paul’s letter to the Romans, Paul experiences a positive resolution: “Who will deliver me?” asks Paul in verse 24. Suddenly the ocean swells, rushes to the shore in the person of Jesus Christ, and sweeps Paul out to the depths where he now discovers another stanza: “I’m convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38).
Joy

Categories
Religious

The Two Popes

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University
“Brothers and sisters, I myself don’t think I’ve reached it, but I do this one thing: 
I forget about the things behind me and reach out for the things ahead of me.”
Philippians 3:13 (Common English Bible)
There are not two, but three main presences within Fernando Meirelles’ extraordinary film The Two Popes about the tumultuous friendship between Pope Benedict XVI and Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio. The first two are the Holy Sees themselves. There’s Benedict XVI (Anthony Hopkins), the German successor of the much beloved Pope John Paul II chosen in large part for his grave, combative conservatism in the face of increasing global secularism. Then there’s Bergoglio (Jonathan Pryce), the avuncular Argentinian Jesuit whose liberal theology forged in the furnace of Third World poverty sent shockwaves throughout a Church entrenched in tradition and First World luxury. The film sees them butt heads in the wake of a disillusioned Bergoglio’s attempted resignation as Archbishop of Buenos Aires. Believing said resignation would be interpreted as a vote of no confidence against his papacy, Benedict refuses. When Bergoglio flies to Rome to confront Benedict personally, the two debate and argue until they slowly become friends.
The third presence only makes itself known gradually, first appearing almost thirty minutes into the film in the midst of their first meeting and, subsequently, their first major argument where they bicker about homosexuality, priestly celibacy, and the provision of sacraments for those out of communion. It’s a small, imperious voice from Benedict’s Fitbit demanding he remain active to reach his prescribed 10,000 steps a day: “Don’t stop now. Keep moving.” This voice becomes almost a commentator on the action as the film continues, punctuating arguments and announcing Benedict’s unseen presence. It’s a marvelous narrative device that keeps the film from getting mired in endless debates about theology, ensuring a sense of forward momentum for both the story and its characters. Indeed, the voice gets the last line of the movie proper before the credits begin as Benedict sits alone in the Vatican after his resignation and Bergoglio’s election as pope: “Don’t stop now. Keep moving. Keep moving.”
As the film continues, it becomes impossible to ignore the Fitbit as an embodiment of the Holy Spirit, gently nudging both Benedict and Bergoglio towards not just reconciliation but friendship. It underscores the film’s central thesis that faith and its practice cannot remain frozen in the past. “Time demands movement,” Bergoglio challenges during their first meeting. Benedict snaps back with accusations of hypocrisy concerning Bergoglio’s former conservative attitudes, particularly concerning homosexuality.
“I changed,” he admits.
“No, you compromised,” Benedict challenges.
“No. No compromise. No, I changed. It’s a different thing.”

Such change seems almost blasphemous in an organization like the Catholic Church that lives and dies by its traditions and moves with the speed of centuries, not minutes. But change it must—and not through the rejection of holy doctrine but by faithful, reverent reinterpretation. To paraphrase a great theologian, it’s the difference between drinking from a stagnant pond and a flowing river.
There are few places in the scriptures where this need for faithful, reverent change are better emphasized than in the third chapter of the Epistle to the Philippians where Paul challenges his audience to avoid those who say that believers and converts must strictly adhere to outdated Jewish law and ritual to be saved. Referring to his own upbringing as a Jewish Pharisee as so much sewer trash—sewer trash!—he boasts that he rejected everything for the sake of Christ. It’s through living faithfully in God through the Gospel of Jesus Christ that salvation comes, not through outdated ritual and calcified theology. To tear down walls, to shatter the barriers between mankind, this is what living in Christ means. And if any of our practices or beliefs hobble us in this journey, then we must listen for the Holy Spirit which whispers now more than ever to not stop now, to keep moving, to keep moving.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Brush Strokes

“Don’t be conformed to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds so that you can figure out what God’s will is – what is good and pleasing and mature.”
Romans 12:2 (Common English Bible)
            Gilbert “Dibo” Doran holds the Curacao’s 2019 title as the King of Tumba, Curacao’s Carnival anthem. A music genre indigenous to this area of the Caribbean, Tumba has its roots in the history of slavery and remains popular for ending parties on a high note. “Nowadays, the Tumba Festival is the biggest music festival of the island. Local composers and musicians compete for living their culture to the max.”[1]Doran self-identifies as a “patriot to the bone” asserting that one’s culture and tradition are part of your identity. It’s your roots. Through his original music compositions, Doran desires to leave his mark on the music genre, to be an example, to contribute to the longevity of the cultural imprint of the Tumba Festival. Perseverance is key, adds Doran.
            Gilbert Doran is a man whose life is organized around a central purpose. Raised in a single-parent home, Doran neither ran away from life nor ran along with life. He set himself apart from other children by intentionally directing his life around a core passion – a passion for the culture, folklore, and tradition of Curacao, particularly as expressed in music. “Instead of a bike or a Nintendo, I would ask for drums, a piano, or cymbals as a gift.”[2]Doran stands proudly among women and men who have done the most for the world precisely because they are nonconformists. He has elevated the level of life for ages to come for the people of Curacao because of a driving passion to contribute positively to his corner of the world.
            This is precisely what the Apostle Paul is asking of those who would follow Jesus Christ. Be a nonconformist! Don’t go along with life, drifting wherever the flow of life may take you, becoming shaped by whatever forces surround you. Set your mind on God. Learn of God. Seek to know God’s will and discern all that is good, and pleasing, and mature. As Doran held, perseverance is key.  The distinguished preacher from another generation, Robert J. McCracken once observed, “The reason why so many people are at the mercy of circumstance is that they have neither discovered a faith by which to live nor a cause to serve.”[3]The “patterns of this world” exert a powerful shaping influence upon each person. The Apostle Paul provides another way. Draw on spiritual resources greater than your own. Fix your eyes on God.
            Many people today take the path of least resistance. Without a driving conviction to mature in the faith through regular time with God by prayer and reading the Bible, they are caught by the flow of life and carried along paths and channels they have not chosen. The usual result is that their life begins to reflect the standards and practices of their environment. The people they meet and the things that happen to them likely shape who they become. It is as though they surrender the brush strokes that paint their life portrait to an unknown hand. Here, in his letter to the church in Rome, the Apostle Paul urges that we submit the brush strokes that will paint our portrait to the hand of the Master, Jesus Christ.
Joy,
           

[1]Nelly Rosa, “I Want My Legacy To Live On.” Caribbean Beat. January/February, 2020. 85.
[2]Ibid. 85.
[3]Robert J. McCracken, “The Peril of Conformity.” Best Sermons: 1951-1952 Edition(New York: The Macmillan Company, 1952), 24.

Categories
Religious

The Gift of Encouragement

“So continue encouraging each other and building each other up, just like you are doing already.”
1 Thessalonians 5:11 (Common English Bible)
            In the January, 2020 issue of Runner’s Worldmagazine, a woman shares her struggle to complete the New York City Marathon. Halfway through the twenty-six mile run, personal resources ran out. Physical and emotional resources depleted, she would walk to the sidelines and drop out. Except, there were people on the sidelines. Strangers to her. Moreover, not one of them would let her stand with them on the side of the street. They were not rude. Rather, they shouted, and cheered, and pushed her forward with words of encouragement. Strangers would not allow her to quit. She finished the marathon in last place. However, she finished the race!
            That is the business of the church! We encourage people not to give-up on the race. We shout words of encouragement. We urge them to continue, particularly when it is difficult. We do so in the certain confidence of God’s strength that never falters. Showing-up for worship is a shout from the sidelines. Serving in some ministry, alongside others, is a shout from the sidelines. Financial giving to ensure that the church continues to move forward is a shout from the sidelines. Paying attention to others, listening deeply, caring with an expansive heart, is a shout-out from the sidelines. Each is a real and meaningful means of urging people forward when they face every kind of struggle, difficulty, and challenge.
            Some years ago, the distinguished Christian thinker and teacher, Lesslie Newbigin taught that the primary task of the Christian is engagement. Preaching is important. Teaching is important. However, the primary task of the Christian is deep and meaningful engagement in the lives of those we encounter every day. What the church preaches and what the church teaches is not the primary concern of most people. What is most urgent in the lives of the common person is the question “Is there someone who cares?” Authentic engagement in the life of another, championing them through difficulty, creates a ripple effect that changes multitudes of lives.
            The single greatest mistake that Christians make is the assumption that their faith is a private matter. Such an assumption directs the believer down the path of selfishness. Comments such as, “I can be a good Christian without going to church” reveals that selfishness. As Newbigin argues – and as the apostle Paul asserts here in his letter to the Thessalonian Church – Christians are to gather so that they may mutually encourage one another. Demonstrations of care, support, and encouragement are shouts from the sidelines to those discouraged and defeated by life. These “shout outs” become enough for those whose own resources have become depleted to finish the race.

Joy,
           
           

Categories
Religious

Diet Religion

The following meditation was written by Dr. Hood’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University
“At this, many of his disciples turned away and no longer accompanied him.”
John 6:66 (Common English Bible)
When I was a grad student in New York City, I lived down in the Bowery in lower Manhattan. Walking back from class I’d frequently find myself strolling through Greenwich Village, that perennial home to New York’s strange, artistic, and eccentric. On warm muggy nights amateur psychics would seemingly sprout up from the pavement, setting up shop outside cafes and trendy restaurants with signs offering fortune tellings for a meager $15. Some offered palm readings, other astrology charts, but the most popular service of these armchair clairvoyants were tarot card readings. For the price of a good pastrami sandwich a few blocks over at Katz’s Deli, they claimed they could use their cards to predict your fate. Heavy with the weight of an ancient esotericism, they would sigh and moan with the flick of a wrist, this card predicting a successful career change, this one the failure of a promising relationship. 
Ask these psychics how they learned their craft and they would twinkle an eye and say that it takes years of study and practice. What they probably won’t tell you is that you can google “learn tarot” right now on your phone and get links to countless sites and YouTube videos promising to teach initiates how to read them in just a few hours. It turns out reading tarot cards is much easier and less mystical than originally advertised. And while many will claim that tarot cards originated in the courts of ancient Egyptians, in reality the first tarot card decks appeared in 15thcentury Europe, not as divining tools but as playing cards. It would take around two more centuries for them to gain widespread use among fortunetellers, and even then mostly only in French and English-speaking areas. Go to other parts of Northern, Central, or Southern Europe and you’ll find people still using them as they were originally intended: as simple playing cards.
But have you ever tried telling anyone who believes in the power of tarot card that they’re pure charlatanism? That their art is only a few centuries old and would be laughed at by the people that created them? The polite ones will hem and haw excuses. The impolite ones will scream at you for “violating their beliefs.” Tarot cards and other forms of New Age quackery have weeded their way into the lives of millions and the emotional dependence they engender is tantamount to brainwashing. It makes sense why: they provide the benefits of religion with none of religion’s demands. They give the customer a sense of cosmic purpose, personal direction, and even community, but without the insistence of moral improvement, personal reflection, and acts of charity towards the poor and disenfranchised. Have you ever heard of a palm reader telling customers to seek counseling for anger management? A salesperson for essential oils to volunteer at a soup kitchen? The answer is no. And the reason is that all of these things are, quite literally, diet religion.
We see the perils of diet religion even in the time of Jesus. Think of the rich man in Mark who asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life and left after being told to sell his possessions and give the money to the poor. Perhaps this man was hoping for a dose of diet religion. Or what of the lawyer in Luke who asked Jesus who was his neighbor and was told his bitter enemy the Samaritans. Was this man seeking a diet religion answer full of reassurance? And then there’s the sixth chapter of John where Jesus chastised and offended the multitudes who sought him for his miracles of loaves and fish and not the Bread of Life. The scriptures literally record his disciples complaining that the message of his ministry was “too harsh” before abandoning him. They too were seeking diet religion. Real religion—the true Gospel of Christ—is demanding and difficult. It requires the complete transformation of one’s life. It takes a lifetime to learn with no guarantee of mastery. We come to church, we come to Jesus, for something greater than fortune cookie platitudes. We come for rebirth. But if that’s not what you want, then I know several people in Manhattan who for a modest fee would be happy to help.