For All the Saints: The Faith Lives On

One of my favorite hymns of the church is generally only sung once a year—“For All the Saints,” set to the Ralph Vaughan Williams tune Sine Nomine. The hymn is epically dramatic with it’s grand intervals, vaulted Alleluia chorus, and extensive seven verses. It’s a hymn fit for a celebration! Today we mark that celebration in the solemn Feast of All Saints.


The hymn begins “For all the saints, who from their labors rest.” The Feast of All Saints is the time in the church year that Christians remember the triumphant faithful who’ve died in the past year—and in some places, even longer before than that. All Saints provides a chance to celebrate the rich history, deep roots, and intimate connectedness with the whole cloud of witnesses that surrounds the church—past, present, and even future.

The author of Hebrews writes:

And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets—who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented—of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground. Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect. Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, -Hebrews 11:32-12:1, NRSV

Ours is a faith rooted deeply in the past. In many ways, we are hugely indebted to those who’ve gone before us for persevering in the race set before them—the race that Paul speaks of when he tells his faithful disciple Timothy to “fight the good fight of the faith.”

Before us today have gone countless saints of the church who’ve witnessed by their lives of the Spirit’s wondrously mighty and mercifully gracious power in their lives. The fact they called themselves Christian alone is testament to the mighty deed of God’s conversion in their lives. “For,” as St. Paul writes to the church at Corinth, “the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”

We who, although we will die in this body, find hope and receive faith by God’s grace poured out to us in the sacrificed life of Christ on the cross so that we, strengthened by God’s promise of life abundant and eternal, might fulfill our Godly commission to go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that Christ has commanded us. Only rooted in the promise of Christ, revealed and glorified in the cross, are we empowered by the Spirit to make that witness to “all nations.”

It’s in vogue in the church today to have a scorn for tradition.

It’s in vogue in the church today to be critical of too much reflection on our roots. There is even in some corners a scorn for the past, for tradition—as if it were a set of shackles keeping the church from moving forward into new, brighter, and more exciting “nations” where disciples hunger to hear the Word of God’s good news.

This criticism is at times fair—the church cannot remain beholden to the past. At the same time, a church that forgets its roots, forgets where it’s been, forgets the lives of the countless saints who’ve run the race set before them—that church does itself a huge injustice and robs itself of the richness and abundance Christ promises us when we were baptized into him and all the faithful—past, present, and future.

The one-time Lutheran, later Orthodox theologian Jaroslav Pelikan remarked concerning tradition—“Tradition is the living faith of the dead; traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.” That is to say, the traditions of the church nourish us and give us examples to set before us for our lives. When we make tradition into the object of our faith, it becomes traditionalism and becomes an idol. We preserve tradition at the expense of the gospel.

But tradition, the devoted contributions and lives of the faithful who’ve gone before us since the time of Abraham and Sarah, Phoebe and James, Luther and Mother Teresa,

Tradition is the living faith of the dead; traditionalism is the dead faith of the living. -Jaroslav Pelikan, 1983 "Jefferson Lecturer"

and countless others through the ages—that kind of tradition speaks to the transforming power of the gospel in the lives of people like you and me. Tradition is one thing we can point to and say, “God does break into our lives and act.” Without the tradition of the past generations, our lives of faith would lack a kind of richness that we are truly blessed we have with it.

Today as we commemorate the great saints of the church we name and all those other great saints who go down without a jot or tittle in the annals of history, let’s keep in mind their great contributions to our faith lives. Let’s keep their faith alive as a testament to the living power of God’s word to transform lives. And let’s, as the striving faithful of this age, take heart in the words of the hymnist, who writes—“The golden evening brightens in the west; soon, soon to the faithful servants cometh rest; sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.”

Finally, let's find hope in these words that the race set before us ends in “paradise the blest”—a paradise marked by eternal communion with God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, and all those saints triumphant who rise in bright array as the King of glory passes on his way. The faith of our forefathers, the faith of our foremothers, our faith, and the faith of later generations is centered on this—on Christ the Lord of Lords, the King of kings by whose death we live. Thanks be to God for all those faithful who laid a foundation for our faith and by whose lives we see displayed the truth of Christ’s transformative life sacrificed for us.

-DS

Reformation Day: To Celebrate or Not to Celebrate

This past Sunday, the sanctuaries of many Lutheran churches looked as if someone took a red paintbrush to them and went wild. The occasion—the Festival of the Reformation of the Church, a time in the evangelical church’s life where we remember the activity of the Holy Spirit in reforming the church that began on October 31, 1517 and continues to this day. In the church, feast and festival days marked by an emphasis on God’s activity through the Holy Spirit are recognized with the liturgical color red.

After worship, I ran into one of the parishioners and remarked about how nice it was to see all the red in the sanctuary. Her response was less than enthusiastic. She told me she hardly thought the Reformation was a time for celebration and that surely when the Last Day is finally past, confessional and denominational differences within the church will be no more. I had to agree with her. The Reformation is hardly a time to celebrate division in the church—although that’s what many Protestant folks make it about.

On October 31, 1517, the Martin Luther nailed 95 Theses outlining grievances with the Catholic Church to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany, sparking the Protestant Reformation.

The Reformation is truly a celebration about God’s activity in the world and specifically in the life of the church. We who confess a belief in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen—we celebrate on Reformation God’s amazingly creative work in our lives. We who confess a belief in God Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, who for us and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and for our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, suffered death and was buried—we celebrate on Reformation God’s amazingly gracious and radically gratuitous outpouring of self for our sake. We who confess a belief in God the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who has spoken through the prophets—we celebrate on Reformation God’s continued speaking to us, both in the 16th-century and in this day. To celebrate the Reformation of the Church is to celebrate the very activity of God in the history of the world—an activity that is about life in abundance.

The stark reality, for Christians such as ourselves who confess a belief in the “one holy, catholic, and apostolic church,” is that the unity we so long for in Christ isn’t fully known among us now. In the Reformation gospel text for this past Sunday, Jesus tells his disciples “You will know the truth and the truth make you free.” Knowing the truth, however, can cause tension, strife, discord, disunity, and conflict. The truth has a way of calling us on the carpet and making us realize that our brokenness and insufficiency.

At the same time, the truth also reveals to us God’s extraordinary love and grace in the face of our failings, this world’s brokenness, and all other problems that face us. We who’d like to think if we just work hard enough, if we just pray hard enough, if we just come before God with a pure enough heart—we who make our salvation about what we do find the truth that God’s already promised us life and promised it abundantly to be a difficult message to shallow.

When remembering the activity of the Holy Spirit in the world, not just during the Protestant Reformation, but also at other times in the life of the church, two verses come to mind—two verses attributed directly to Christ himself.

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword, -Matthew 10:34.

I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me, -John 17:20-21.

Christ’s fervent desire is that his church, his holy bride, be one with him and God the Father. His death and his resurrection assure us that we are one with him and by the waters our one baptism, we are made members of not only him but of one another.

But Christ also recognizes that his message isn’t one that is easy to hear or to bear; rather, it is one that will cause all sorts of problems precisely because it’s about the truth—the truth of who we are and who God is. The truth that left to our own devices, our natural inclination is to worry about individualized selves at the expense of the rest of creation. Christ comes proclaiming to us both by his words and by his very life, the truth that God will overcome that inward turning selfishness and incorporate us through the continual and constant activity of the Holy Spirit into a new paradigm marked by a unity that emanates from God.

The celebration at Reformation is not of the division within the church—a division that is natural for humanity by its very inborn nature. The celebration at Reformation about God’s revelatory truth made clear to us time and again by the incessant work of the Holy Spirit. It’s a truth that shows the brokenness, corruption, and sinfulness of ourselves and of this world we find ourselves, but what’s more, it’s a truth that shows us God mends all brokenness, purifies all corruption, and erases all sinfulness through Jesus Christ.

The renewing and life-giving power of the Spirit shatters our image of a comfortable, self-reliant world and replaces it with God’s radical, Christ-centered reality. For the unity that we celebrate at Reformation isn’t a unity of doctrine, practice, or institution. It’s a unity that transcends all our human capacity of understanding and finds its meaning in God through Christ Jesus. What we celebrate on the Festival of the Reformation of the Church isn’t the unity of the church; rather, we celebrate the unity Christ incorporates us into when we catch glimpses of the truth of who we are and who God is.

-DS

The Pope’s Confession: “I am a sinner”

A lot of hubbub is going up on “both sides” as His Holiness once again makes statements about inclusivity, forgiveness, acceptance, and life together as the Body of Christ, with a specific eye cast toward women and gays and lesbians. Traditionalists are quick to point out that the pope isn’t saying anything contrary to long-standing Catholic teaching; progressives are ecstatic about the compassion Francis is calling for.

To be sure, the pope’s changed the tenor of the discussion, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The pope hasn’t changed any policy, only the way the church talks about the policy. In fact, the practice of the Vatican has shown in fact that the implementation of status quo policy will, sadly, continue.

In the interview, however, where His Holiness made his statements about moving beyond divisive issues of abortion and same-sex marriage, he made another statement that, although picked up by the mainstream media and some religious outlets, has by and large fallen to the wayside. That’s a shame because it’s the more radical statement of all the others. Asked who he is, his answer was honest and human:

I do not know what might be the most fitting description…I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner.

This humility to make this claim, to own this reality, to confess his own condition as a sinner—this humility is what makes this pope so attractive to so many. It’s what makes him so refreshing. It’s not his disregard for tradition when it stands in the way of the gospel. It’s not his statements that sound radically inclusive or openminded (he is, after all, a Jesuit and they are encouraged to rigorously engage issues and debate them from all angles). The fact that he, the pope, the supreme pontiff of all Christendom, as far as Roman Catholics are concerned, the vicar of Christ on earth—the fact that he admits his brokenness and inadequacy is refreshing and it really does reflect more about the man Jorge Bergoglio than the words “I am a sinner” first belie.

I was once asked what my favorite verse from the bible is. Now, in all honesty, that’s hard for me. I love the bible and to find one favorite verse is difficult. But I had to “produce” a verse so that my interlocutor wouldn’t think I’d never read the bible or some such. So my mind went to one of the verses I quote a lot, from St. Paul’s letter to the church at Rome: “For all have sinned and fail to live up to the glory of the God,” (my translation). The person I was talking with challenged me to find a verse that gave hope. My response: this verse gives me all kinds of hope.

When I hear “For all have sinned and fail to live up to the glory of God,” I don’t just hear “You’ve sinned and fail to live up to the Glory of God,” but rather that I’m not alone in that failure. I’m not the only one who’s come short of God’s demands for my life; in fact, all have sinned, and failed to live up to God’s expectations. If God can love those other people, who are also sinners, then God must also love me too despite the fact that I too am a rotten sinner.

All people are on the same sinking ship of sin, and God promises to rescue us all from it—not just those who we would say are especially holy or pious...because they too are sinners before God their creator.

That is a radical statement of inclusivity. It’s a statement that puts me in the same boat with all other people, and it puts all other people in the same sinking boat I’m in as well. No one can claim some kind of moral or spiritual superiority over me—because “all have sinned and fail to live up to the glory of God.”

When his Holiness makes a confession “I am a sinner,” he’s telling the world he doesn’t see himself as somehow holier or more sanctified than the rest of us. He’s a sinner—just like the lot of us. He’s “a sinner whom the Lord has looked upon,” as he himself says. God has called him to a particular task, to lead the flock of St. Peter, and he has responded to that call by the grace of God. The fact that he confesses his sin so openly is refreshing from the head of a church that, whether intentionally or not, has behaved toward the world as if its on some higher moral playing field.

Francis’ admission to the world of his humanity is what’s truly refreshing about him. Granted, his statements about love and compassion, forgiveness and reconciliation are all refreshing in their own right, but they themselves are the product of the deeper realization of this pope that he is a man called by God to love and serve his neighbor and not lord that calling over those under his charge. He’s a sinner—just like the rest of us.

-DS

Quote for the Day: "Matthew as Story"

While reading to prepare a bible study for Saturday, this quote stuck out to me from Jack Dean Kingsbury's Matthew as Story. It gets the meat of the matter in a simple sentence:

In Jesus' perspective, the debates concerning law and tradition are all to be resolved by the proper application of one basic principle, or better, of a single attitude of the heart, namely, utter devotion to God and radical love of the neighbor.

-DS

BOOM Worship :)

Today’s worship in the chapel at The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia was what I like to call “BOOM worship”. The onomatopoeia, “Boom”, really means nothing other than the pseudo-emotion that I feel once in awhile during worship. Sometimes this emotion happens during high liturgical masses, but other times (often to my surprise) this happens during unconventional worship. Some would call this Boom the Holy Spirit’s presence, but I think that’s a little too proverbial for me.

The Rev. Dr. Karyn L. Wiseman Associate Professor of Homiletics and Director of United Methodist Studies at LTSP preached and presided at the Wednesday Eucharistic service. There is always much to be expected when Wiseman preaches because she was trained specifically in homiletics and liturgy. I could hardly wait to see what the Spirit would do during worship, and how Wiseman would preach the Gospel and proclaim the Word.

Wiseman’s service did not follow the traditional Lutheran ordo, which led to an early reading of the psalm and the assigned gospel text. The text that was assigned was Luke 15:1-10, the Revised Common Lectionary reading from the 17th Sunday after Pentecost.

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." So he told them this parable: "Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, "Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.  Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. "Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, "Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.' Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents."

I was minding my business while Wiseman began to read the gospel. Suddenly, one of my colleagues (and friends) stood up and rushed out of the sanctuary crying. I was concerned and within 10 seconds of her exodus, myself and three others left the sanctuary to check on our friend. When we came outside to see what was wrong our colleague was smiling and told us to go back inside because it was part of the “thing”. We were all laughing as we went back in, though we were still confused. When we entered the space others asked us what happened and if our friend was alright. We just nodded and waited to find out what would happen next. When Wiseman finished the gospel and began her sermon she quickly remarked on what happened. This served as the illustration for her sermon. It was a BOOM kind of impact that it had on all of us because it was right there in our faces. She told us that this “experiment” has been done in various religious settings and most times no one moves because they are so focused on remaining in the place where they are “supposed to be.”

This text is often preached concerning the one sheep that is lost. Instead of preaching about the sheep that is lost, Wiseman preached a sermon concerned with the fate of the other 99 sheep. By nature, sheep are not intelligent animals, or they do not appear intelligent by our standards. They are so interested in sticking together that they would die together before they moved to another place without guidance of the shepherd.

There are so many things that we lose in our lives: car keys, credit cards, cell phones…. We are tied to the things that we have because we are products of a consumeristic culture. That wasn’t what this was about though. Wiseman had individuals place items that they often lose or represent loss on a table place by the baptismal font. Many individuals brought the usual suspects. I placed a necklace on the table that was given to me by my last field education site where I spent a year in ministry with them. It represents loss for me because when I left the congregation to move to another site I felt deeply grieved. This ritual action allowed me to reflect on my experience and to let go of the grief I still held within myself. Others felt similarly and were called to remember that we don’t have to cling so tightly to things. Likewise, we do not need to cling so tightly in a herd to people who look like us, talk like us, and believe the same things as us! The sheep that wanders from the pack is the bravest of sheep.

Wiseman encouraged the community to be brave enough to go out and stray from the flock. She said that when you’ve strayed too far the Lord will come for you and bring you back into the fold. This was an unconventional exegesis of the text, but I think it worked well in this community. The message gave us all a little BOOM feeling inside and encouraged us to use that BOOM elsewhere.

- LB

Pastrix - Book Review

Book Review - Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint (2013) Nadia Bolz-Weber - ISBN-13: 978-1455527083 - List price: $22.00

This book would benefit anyone who wants to read a memoir about an unconventional pastor. This book is especially helpful for individuals who would benefit from pastoral formation or other forms of spiritual formation. One should take heed if one is easily offended by language considered foul because the author does not dance around her words. She says what she means and how she feels, which adds to the overall mood and flow of the memoir.

Nadia is articulate and explains the plight of a pastor, but more importantly Nadia sheds light on the plight of every human person. The problem with sin and suffering in our world, our inability to work to God, and humanity’s utter dependence of the grace and mercy of God. Over and over again the author comes back to the theology of the cross in which her entire narrative is grounded. Nadia’s chapter entitled, “Clinical Pastoral Education” was especially helpful to understand how the theology of the cross really affected her life and ministry. Another place where Nadia talks explicitly about the theology of the cross is in her narrative concerning the earthquake in Haiti. Nadia states, 

“We choose to believe Jesus was there in Haiti. We know he was there. He was there. He was there. We will not keep silent (132).”

Nadia begins the journey through her recovery from alcoholism and drug addiction, and moves quickly to her search for meaning. She searched for meaning in different religious expressions and schools of thought--Nadia eventually met a Lutheran Pastor, married him, and wound up in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Nadia searches deep within herself. She pulls stories out of her deepest being. Stories of not only accomplishment, but she recollects stories of utter failure and seeming disaster. This further drives Nadia to her ultimate point. She, and the rest of humanity, are utterly dependent of God and God continues to come to humanity through the suffering, death, and resurrection of Christ.

I recommend this book with high regard--not because Nadia is a celebrity pastor in my own denomination, but because Nadia is entertaining, truthful, honest in diction, and completely captivating.

* Theology of the cross is a term defined by Martin Luther referring to humanity’s ability to know God through the cross--through the suffering of Christ, death of Christ, and resurrection of Christ.

-LB

A short look at accompaniment

Recent events in my life have led me to ponder accompaniment and its place in theological discourse. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America defines accompaniment as, “walking together in solidarity that practices interdependence and mutuality.” In Luke 15:1-7, Jesus tells the parable of the lost sleep, which brings to light a brilliant story of accompaniment. The proverbial exegesis for this text is concerned with the sheep that is lost. The shepherd is concerned for the lost sheep and leaves the ninety-nine other sheep to seek the one that is lost. This is not an incorrect reading, in fact, this exegesis gives comfort to those who feel lost and alone. An alternative exegesis for this text could examine the other ninety-nine. They are incomplete without the one sheep that has left the flock. It is not because one more will make the flock and even hundred, or because the shepherd will lose money because he lost some of his goods. It is important that this sheep is among the flock because the flock needs the gifts and the very presence of the lost sheep. Every sheep is important and every sheep is irreplaceable.

A ministry of presence is often the term used to describe the main work of the pastor at the bedside of the dying, the main work of the pastor called because three children have just died in a car accident, the main work of the pastor who has nothing left to say. Accompaniment is similar to the ministry of presence, but accompaniment is being there all along. Accompaniment provides a hand to hold through the smaller trials of life, through the everyday working and sleeping…. Accompaniment is standing in solidarity with those who are on the margins of society, those who are right in the middle of conflict, those who live comfortable lives, those who don’t think they need help, the healthy, the sick. The act of accompaniment is being with people no matter their circumstance. Accompaniment is walking the road of the broken hearted, the healed, the lonely, the thriving--To use a trite expression, walking in someone else’s shoes.

This mutual journey begins with little expectation. This adventure begins with no plans and there in the mystery a sojourn begins. Throughout this journey one gives voice to the other, one creates a holding place for the other to stay and rest, one walks with the other through mutual understandings, disagreements, difficulties, and bliss. Accompaniment can be combined with liberation theology to say that God is with the least, the last and the lost, but it doesn't have to. Accompaniment can stand on its own in the trauma and triumph. Accompaniment theology is a place of great strength, great learning, and marvelous growth for both.

-LB