The Heavens Declare

At the annual Study Conference for Clergy and Professional Lay Leaders for the Saskatchewan Synod, held in Manitou Springs this week, I was able to fulfill one of my life long hopes - to capture a display of Northern Lights with my camera. (If you click on the picture it should take you to a larger version of the image.) I was able to take a number of pictures before the display faded, but this one is my favourite.

The Aurora Borealis have been something that has touched my spirit since I first saw them as a teenager. (To read the whole story check out my earlier post Night Celebration). One of the portions of scripture that comes to mind every time I see a beautiful display of the Northern Lights is from Psalm 19. I share the words of that Psalm in connection with this image from the other night.

^The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

^Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they display knowledge.

^There is no speech or language

where their voice is not heard.

^Their voice^

goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.

(Psalm 19:1-4a New International Version)

Reflection #6: Denominational Pride Goes Before a (Hypo)critical Fall

Crosswalk 2011 - Rosemont Ecumencial Good Friday Procession & Worship

One of my early church memories is attending what were called Reformation Rallies. These were occasions when all the Lutheran churches in the area would gather together (usually on Reformation Sunday if I remember correctly) and give thanks to God that we were Lutherans. Those Reformation Rallies had a definite tone of "We're better than all those other churches," and that sense of Lutheran superiority sunk in deep to my young mind. In those early years I would tell my school mates who attended other denominations that their church was not as good as my church (even if I had never been to their church... I just knew!) Looking back on those days I am glad we have moved beyond such church tribalism, at least to some degree.

Looking down on other denominations has caused a bad smell of hypocrisy to linger far too long in the North American church. This culture of church competition rather than church cooperation does not line up with the command to love others as you love yourself - even (or especially) those who do not "go to church" pick up on that! As I have heard many people ask "Don't you all believe in the same God?"

It is because of the offensive odour of ecclesiastical arrogance that I do not think it is a bad thing that denominationalism appears to be fading (at least in some ways). Partly this decline in denominational exclusivism is due to the need to work together as we all are suffering from shrinking resources. Partly this is due to the simple reality of interdenominational marriage. At the beginning of my ministry there were still pockets of Lutheranism that thought it a terrible thing to marry outside our church, but now parents are just glad if their child marries someone who goes to church period!

Denominational pride grows out of dualistic thinking, the impulse to separate everything into right and wrong, thus if my church is right then the other churches must be wrong. So we set about proving to ourselves (and anyone who would listen) why our church denomination is the "right" one. Meanwhile the mission of the church gets set aside, or worse, changed. Jesus did not ask us to make more Lutherans, or Catholics, or Baptists, or Pentecostals... we are simply asked to make disciples of Jesus. Denominational divisions don't enter into the great commission at all (Matthew 28:18-20).

While there are certainly things about the Lutheran church, and Lutheran approach to theology that I deeply appreciate (and would be hard pressed to give up), I have also come to realize that other church bodies have good and important gifts to offer for our common mission. Last year our local Ecumenical Group planned a joint Good Friday procession and worship service (see the picture above). Walking together through our neighbourhood from church to church there was a great deal of excitement, respect and curiosity. "What would happen at the next church?" At each stop along the processional route there was an expression of faith that was both unique to that denomination and common to all. While the song might not be familiar, the meaning of the lyrics resonated. While the prayers might be led differently than one was used to, the intent of the prayers was clear. While the ritual actions at each stop varied, the same focus was evident - this was about Jesus Christ, the very source of unity, the very reason we were walking and worshipping together in the first place. It truly was a 'good' Friday.

When we are excessively proud of our own denomination, our pride can blind us from the good in other church bodies. It is not so much that any one denomination is the "right" one, rather we simply have different gifts to be used for the sake of the whole. I have seen evidence of God at work in all kinds of churches, in all kinds of settings, in all kinds of people. God is no respecter of church divisions - wherever the people of God gather to seek and do the will of God, there is God in the midst of them. Whenever and wherever people gather to worship Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit flows - sometimes powerfully, sometimes surprisingly, sometimes quietly, often mysteriously, but always active.

As I look to the future I hope that we would learn to care less about being right than being helpful, that we would consider our identity as Christian first and foremost, before thinking of ourselves as a specific branch of the Christian family. I pray that we would find a healthy balance between gratitude for the good aspects of our particular denomination and an openness to the good aspects of others. I encourage all Christians to be humble enough to admit that God will, and indeed is, working in places and people that might be very unfamiliar, or even uncomfortable, for us.

It will be important in the future not to depend on "brand loyalty" to maintain the mission of the church. Already people are much less concerned about what name is on the building - instead they are concerned about how the people who gather in that building function as a people of faith. They are looking, not for a denomination first and foremost, but for a church. They are looking for a group of people with whom they can share and practice their faith, and they are doing so with less and less regard for historical divisions. Whatever happens in the future our call remains: we are to be centered in the Gospel with as much creativity, integrity and energy as possible. That call surpasses all denominational boundaries.

Lest anyone get the wrong idea, I am truly grateful to have been part of the Lutheran church my whole life, but I am also grateful that I have come to understand and experience that my family of faith is much larger than that.

Reflection #5: Not All Suffering is the Same

Probably the biggest question we face as humans, and more specifically as theologians, is the question of suffering. "Why do people suffer?" Or in the words of Rabbi Harold Kushner "Why do bad things happen to good people?" As I have wrestled with this question over the years I have come to realize that not all suffering is the same, thus this question is much more complex than it originally sounds.

Much human suffering can be explained by human sinfulness, choices made out of self-centeredness that have a negative impact on ourselves and others. This can be seen in the both the personal and communal spheres of life. For example, one person can choose to be abusive towards another - which obviously causes suffering for the victim. On a communal level, behaviour of one group of people can have harmful consequences on another. For example, a manufacturing company may choose to dump toxins into a local river because it is a quick and easy (thus profitable) way to deal with waste - but this creates suffering for others as pollutants enter the environment and cause health problems and worse. So in these examples, the answer to the question "Why is there suffering?" is "Because certain humans made harmful choices."

Tracing the cycle of abuse through the generations shows how suffering resulting from sinful behaviour can perpetuate itself. Thus in one sense "visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children to the third and the fourth generation." (Numbers 4:18) describes this cycle of suffering. In a communal example, choices made by previous generations have impact on future generations, of particular concern these days is how our choices regarding our impact on the environment will negatively affect life on earth down the road.

Harmful and destructive choices of humans gives us, at least a partial, answer to the question of suffering. Even terrible tragedies like airplane crashes can be traced back to a human desire to quickly move ourselves and goods around the world in a manner that, if anything goes wrong, could have serious consequences. Thus our desire for instant gratification means we choose to pack ourselves inside metal tubes with wings and hurl ourselves through the air at incredible speed and heights (even though we all know that mechanical devices sometimes fail). While not sinful in the sense of going against God's will, this example still shows a willingness to put ourselves and others at risk for self-centered reasons. Every time we get into a car we exhibit the same manner of choice on a smaller scale. Our choices, even choices that intend no harm, can lead to suffering.

There is, however, some suffering that cannot be easily explained by human choices. Natural disasters is one. Earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis - forces of nature that are not created by humans, yet can cause great human suffering. "Why does God allow such events to take place, events that cause huge loss of life and property?" In the face of such suffering there is no easy answer. The fundamentalist impulse is to claim such suffering as punishment sent from God for some kind of sinful behaviour. Too bad those who makes such claims publicly always identify as the cause of the suffering something that others (rather than themselves) are doing wrong. It is easy to see suffering as a form of punishment, which leads to the conclusion that the worse the suffering the greater the wrong-doing must have been. This is the very thinking Jesus warns his disciples against in the first verses of Luke chapter 13.

The suffering I personally have the hardest time coming to terms with is not so much the physical or emotional suffering of people, rather it is the mental suffering. Mental illness can be so devastating, and by its very nature impacts how people make choices. For example, when a paranoid schizophrenic kills another person because a voice in his or her head tells them to, the suffering of one creates the suffering of others, and yet where can the blame be placed? In such a case what possible reason can be given? In cases like this everyone seems to be a victim, everyone seems to suffer.

When faced with the question of suffering I often have the urge to find someone or something to blame. Sometimes I am successful in that quest, but too often I end up drawing a blank. When there is no apparent human reason for suffering the remaining possibility is to blame God. The Bible has plenty of examples of people who shout their anger and frustration at God in the midst of suffering. From Job to the Psalmists, from Prophets to Apostles, all have questioned why they face hard times, why they suffer.

As I find myself asking questions about suffering I need to remember that God has already given an unusual answer. When humans ask God "Why is there suffering?" God answers by becoming flesh and joining us in our pain. As the Apostles' Creed confesses "he suffered under Pontius Pilate." God answers our questions about human suffering, by suffering along side us. It doesn't answer our question in a neat manner, rather it is a messy answer, a bloody answer, a relational and ongoing answer. To remember this does not mean I no longer am bothered by suffering, but it does mean God is aware of the suffering, and that God embraces the suffering and all those impacted by it. In this way suffering is transformed and hope can be restored.

So far this is what I have learned about suffering. Admittedly this understanding about suffering is very limited, and even after 25 years as a pastor I doubt I know much of what suffering truly is. So instead of trying to give answers I have learned mostly to be quiet in the face of suffering - there is little to be said except "I am here with you."