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Tag: grace

much ado about nothing

much ado about nothing

Much has been made of the missteps of the prosecution team in the trail of Zacarias Moussaoui, a confessed al-Qaeda operative. Because one of the prosecution lawyers illegally coached several witnesses, Judge Leonie Brinkema ruled that the witnesses could not be called, severely undermining the government’s case against Moussaoui. On Friday, however, Judge Brinkema agreed to let the government substitute other “untainted” witnesses.

The great outcry over the government’s mistakes, raised by media commentators and relatives of some of the victims of the 9/11/01 attack on the World Trade Center, disturbs me. I do understand the need to “get this right,” since Moussaoui is the only person to be tried in connection with the 9/11 attacks. And I do understand the extraordinary pain of those whose loved ones were taken from them through this hateful and horrible act directed against innocent people.

But Moussaoui has confessed, granted, not to involvement with the 9/11 attacks per se, but to conspiring to fly airplanes into buildings. He has been convicted and will face life in prison. The only function of the trial at this point is to determine sentence, and the only goal of the prosecution is to win the death penalty.

The cry is not for justice, it is for blood. What will be lost if the government fails to win its case? Moussaoui will have been apprehended and will pay for his crime with the rest of his life. He will not have “gotten away with it.” Justice will be done.

It is sad — and disturbing — that some will be satisfied with nothing less than blood for blood. Why do we require a life? What need will be satisfied in us if he is executed? Will the taking of his life compensate in any way for the 3000 lives that were taken from us? At best, we will have satisfied our own questionable need for retribution. And at worst, we will have shown ourselves no better than any of those who defend their cause, whatever it may be, by taking human life.

There are other ways of dealing with grief, other ways of responding to injury.

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may become the children of your Father in heaven.

Connie Taylor’s son died in the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Last Sunday, at a church gathering in White Plains, New York, she met Aicha el-Wafi, the mother of Zacharias Moussaoui, and embraced her. “She is blaming her son, in part,” Taylor said. “That must be so horrible. I didn’t experience that.” Read the report of their meeting: 9/11 Mom Hugs Moussaoui’s Mother.

Choose a different path. Choose Jesus’ way …

no matter who you are …

no matter who you are …

No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey,
you are welcome here.

The folks at my church have heard me repeat this tag line from the United Church of Christ national media campaign countless times. For me, it expresses something fundamental about the gospel to which I am called to witness, something not so much about our readiness to welcome anybody, as about Jesus’ readiness to welcome everybody, something not so much about our hospitality, as about Jesus’ gracious invitation. Jesus invited me and Jesus welcomed me! So I know Jesus will invite and welcome you … no matter who you are!

This is what love is: it is not that we have loved God, but that God loved us and sent Jesus to be the means by which our sins are forgiven.

That gracious invitation is especially vivid to me when I stand behind the communion table in our church sanctuary, inviting people to receive the food and drink that Jesus offers them. Because it is Jesus who makes the invitation! The bread and the wine are not mine to give, not the church’s to give, and most certainly not ours to decide who may or may not be invited to the table. This is one of the most meaningful things I do as a minister, extending Jesus’ invitation to eat and to drink, offering to each and to all these emblems of grace.

Communion is a sacrament, a means of grace, a means of experiencing/accessing/being touched by grace. We are called to the table to remember Jesus, and, perhaps even more importantly, to remember that we are remembered by Jesus. We are called to the table to meet Jesus, to be met by Jesus, to celebrate the possibility and to experience the reality of intimacy with Jesus. This is what the gospel is about! This is the good news!

So how could I possibly turn anyone away? How could I ever refuse you access to the Lord’s table … no matter who you are?

These thoughts were stirred as I read Katherine Willis’ blog post entitled, Never too broken. She reminds us: We are never too broken to receive the grace of God in all its tangible and intangible forms. Her post about access to the communion table, and how some have tragically been denied access, is well worth reading.

point of no return?

point of no return?

I remember pulling hard and fast on the paddle, propelling my whitewater canoe forward with the accelerating current toward the brink of Wonder Falls, an eighteen-foot falls on the Big Sandy River. I remember the point of no return, when I knew there was no turning back, no turning around, when I knew that I was committed, that one way or another I was going over the falls!

I made the choice to be there. I made the choice to run the falls. But once I passed that point of no return, I had no more choice … We make countless choices every day that commit us, countless choices we cannot undo. We cannot stop and say “Ooops. I want a ‘do-over.'” or “Wait a minute. I changed my mind.”

Maturity is about taking responsibility for our commitments, about understanding the consequences — and the gravity — of our choices … about thinking carefully, choosing decisively, acting boldly, and accepting whatever befalls us. We can learn from our mistakes; we just cannot undo them. The choices I make in this one moment inexorably alter the options I have available in the next.

And yet … And yet …

It seems to me that the gospel of Jesus Christ changes the rules about points of no return. Not absolving us of our responsibilities, not denying the very real consequences of our choices, but somehow reaching us, holding us, saving us when we have passed what we thought was the point of no return. There is no point beyond which the love of God cannot reach us! There is no point beyond which the grace of God cannot bring us back! I am never — never! — committed to a failed life, never — never! — doomed to hell. There is always for us — for any of us — the possibility of forgiveness, of justice, of mercy, of grace.

Now that is something for which to be thankful!

just enough

just enough

Is it sinful to spend money on yourself? I don’t think so …
Is it sinful to spend money only on yourself? Yes, I do think so …

Is it sinful to want more than you have? I don’t think so …
Is it sinful to be ungrateful for what you do have? Yes, I do think so …

The gospel is about grace, about freedom, about freely enjoying the blessings of this world and sharing freely them, about living day to day without anxiety and with generosity. Things, money, wealth may come and go; let them! We cannot serve both God and wealth. We make an idol of wealth both by having to have it and by having not to have it! If we are preoccupied with accumulating wealth or preoccupied with guilt about having “too much,” in either case, we are preoccupied with things and not occupied with serving God.

Paul knew the secret, the secret of always having “just enough.” The secret is Christ. Having Christ is enough.

    I know what it is to be in need and what it is to have more than enough. I have learned this secret, so that anywhere, at any time, I am content, whether I am full or hungry, whether I have too much or too little. I have the strength to face all conditions by the power that Christ gives me.
unexpected pleasures

unexpected pleasures

No life is entirely planned. Some of us are well-displined and well-organized, living structured and carefully measured lives. Others of us are impulsive or indecisive, living rather chaotic lives. But to all of us — disciplined or not, well-organized or not — unexpected things happen. And it is often the unexpected pleasures that are the sweetest.

The grace of God is an unexpected pleasure …

a moral imperative for victims?

a moral imperative for victims?

When hateful people produce lasting hatred in us … hate wins. When violent people make us violent … violence wins. When cruel people leave us with nothing but a burning desire for revenge in our minds and hearts … cruelty wins. When evil done to us gives birth to evil done by us … evil wins.

As I drove to work this morning, I listened to reports on NPR of the Israeli pullout from the Gaza strip. I heard interviews with militant Palestinians who credited the pullout to the armed resistance alone, giving no credit to the political process, showing no support for the diplomatic efforts of their own leadership, calling only for more violence to oust Israel from the West Bank as well. It was most disheartening.

It was disheartening to see once more that steps toward peace — baby steps though they may be — do so little (do nothing!) to soften the hardened and entrenched hatred of one people for another, do so little (do nothing?) to change the tide of history and move people toward rapprochement.

Is there a moral imperative for victims? Or does their victimization “excuse” whatever choices they may make? Can we expect the victim of oppression to show grace and mercy and restraint and maybe even love to the oppressor? Or is that a preposterous expectation?

There can be no shalom until victimizer and victim alike are set free from the cycle of oppression. There can be no shalom until the oppressors humble themselves before God and until the oppressed humble themselves before God. There can be no shalom until God does it … and until we are ready to let God do it!

true Christian?

true Christian?

What makes a true Christian? Sometimes it is hard to tell!

People calling themselves Christian worship in any number of different ways — from very formal to very informal, with classical music to contemporary music to Christian rap to no music at all, celebrating communion at every worship service or every first Sunday or once a quarter or even almost never.

People calling themselves Christian have very different political persuasions, from far right to far left and everything in between, from believing that religion should have nothing to do with politics to believing religion should have everything to do with politics.

Some people calling themselves Christian focus their energies on “winning souls,” while other people calling themselves Christian focus their energies on relieving human suffering.

So in the midst of all these differences what does make a true Christian? Or is there no such thing?

I believe a true Christian does worship — in whatever fashion. A true Christian lives out the faith in the real world — which means faith will have something to say about politics. A true Christian cares about people’s bodies and their souls. But the defining characteristic of true Christians — however they worship, whatever they think about politics, however they choose to show love their neighbors … the defining characteristic of true Christians is this: knowing for a fact that they are not master of their own lives.

True Christians know that all they are and all they have comes by grace. They know they must look outside themselves for wisdom and direction. They know that personal value is not earned or won, but is bestowed, a gift from God thanks to the obedience and sacrifice of Jesus.

True Christians are humble, recognizing the very real limits of their own wisdom and power. True Christians know they belong to God by God’s choice. True Christians spend much of their time saying “Thank you!”