Tuesday, March 27, 2012

2012 Lent 15: April Newsletter Article


April 2012 Newsletter article

O Christ, create new hearts in us
that beat in time with yours,
that, joined by faith with your great heart,
become love’s open doors.
We are your body, risen Christ;
our hearts, our hands we yield
that through our life and ministry
your love may be revealed.
- Herman G. Stuempfle Jr., “O Christ, Your Heart, Compassionate,” ELW 722

Last week I found myself reading an online review of a book about how religion can be useful to atheists. Rather than digging into the core argument of either the review or the book, I want to talk about one particularly valuable insight.

“If you ask people in modern western societies whether they are religious, they tend to answer by telling you what they believe (or don't believe). When you examine religion as a universal human phenomenon, however, its connections with belief are far more tenuous.” (John Gray, http://www.newstatesman.com/books/2012/02/religion-atheism-atheists)

Gray points out a fact common to Western Christianity, and certainly familiar to American Lutherans: too often we equate religion, or even faith, with belief. Belief is one important aspect of faith, to be sure, but the fact is that belief is an intellectual reality. Belief is, for the most part, a brain-only kind of experience.
But our faith does not come only from our minds, from rational or intellectual exercise. Some aspects of our faith are downright irrational, and our understanding of God would be tremendously impoverished if it we limited the ways in which we know God to the rational or intellectual. 

As Lutherans, we understand our faith to be a gift from God, given in God’s grace to we flawed humans who do not deserve it. Our faith is in our hearts as often as in our minds, and furthermore, our experience of faith is in our bodies. 

Just think of our Sunday gathering for worship. We do not only come for the readings or the sermon, as moving or intellectually stimulating as that may be (or not, as I well know). We respond to those readings with our voices, with song and prayer aloud. We taste the bread and wine of Christ’s presence. We feel the water and oil on our foreheads, the handshakes and high-fives and hugs of our sisters and brothers. 

Of course, our precedent for all this embodied faith is as solid as it could be: Jesus our Christ was himself a man, God enfleshed, with all the aches and pains, smells and tastes that we have. In Jesus, God became fully human for us, so that God would know humanity from the inside, as one of us. As Jesus-followers, we rightly respond not by merely assenting to a set of propositions, but by living our whole lives, with our whole selves, in grateful response to what God has done for us in Jesus. 

Which brings us to Holy Week. During these eight blessed days, more than any other time in our church year, we engage our whole selves in faith and worship. When the calendar turns to our most important times, we embody our faith more profoundly than at any other time of the year.  

On Palm Sunday, we wave palms with our arms and walk ourselves into our worship space, imitating Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. We also speak along with our Gospel lessons, saying the words of the crowd and other characters in these stories.  

On Maundy Thursday, we wash one another’s feet, and allow our feet to be washed, just as Jesus washed the feet of his unworthy friends. Sure, it’s awkward. Sure, some of us don’t feel comfortable taking off our shoes and letting our feet be washed by a pastor or assisting minster. Do you think Jesus’ friends felt any more comfortable with it 2000 years ago? These guys walked outdoors, nearly barefoot, all day, every day. I promise you that every one of their feet was way more gross than yours is. And yet, they allowed themselves to be vulnerable to the presence of Jesus in this ritual. They recognized the deep meaning in this ancient ritual of serving those in need, worthy and unworthy. 

If you have never tried foot-washing, this is the year to give it a try. You may find it awkward, but I hope you also find it a humbling reminder, in your very body, that God’s unmerited grace and love are for you, for your whole self, even the parts you may hide away from the world. To accept the washing of your own feet is meant to be a sign that you accept God’s grace and forgiveness even where and when you least deserve it. Let this ancient and powerful embodied ritual show you how. 

On Good Friday some of us carry the heavy wooden cross. Some pray before that same cross on our knees, lighting candles, feeling their heat and watching their flickering flames as our hearts search for the words to say to our dying savior. We hear the sound of the tomb closing, so loud and ominous that our bones may shake. 

At the Vigil of Easter, we gather around the heat of the new fire, kindled as a sign of God’s presence, from which we light the Paschal candle and the candles we will carry as we walk into our worship space. We hear and participate in the great stories of the Hebrew Scriptures, the stories of the God who has always brought life from death. We respond to those stories with unusual, joyous, sometimes hilarious music. We feel the water of baptism, sprinkled as we affirm our baptismal promises and remember God’s promise in the water. We do hear the gospel proclaimed in scripture and sermon, and we also taste again the gospel proclaimed in bread and wine. Finally after the Vigil we share a joyous celebration with yummy food and festive drink, and laughter. 

And Easter Sunday again we move from font to table, remembering our baptism and sharing in the feast of Jesus’ presence in bread and wine, given for us for the forgiveness of sin. We sing joyous songs of resurrection, remembering the bodily resurrection of Jesus that is the source and center of this entire celebration. 

And we go forth on Easter Sunday from the font and the table to the most important embodiment of our faith. We go forth to live out our faith with our whole selves every day, secure in our belief and bodily present to those in need of healing and wholeness. Our faith is most embodied when we take God’s embodied presence in our worship and bring that presence in our own bodies to a world in need. 

So bring your whole selves to worship this week to be fed and forgiven. And when this week is over, when you have heard the whole story of God’s love from creation through Jesus’ death and resurrection and into your own life, then go forth and live out your thanks with all that you have and all that you are. 

Pastor Andrew

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