And your point would be....?

     I'm not a big fan of what are commonly referred to as "the Pastoral Epistles", those short letters at the tail end of the New Testament which purport to be from Paul of Tarsus, but are probably later, written by anonymous disciples in the faith communities Paul founded.  That was not considered cheating or plagiarism.  It's the way things were done back then.  You addressed a problem in the way that you believed the great teacher would have addressed it, based on what you knew of the original teaching.

     My problem with the pastorals is that, as often happens in second and third generations of teachings, they tend to be more "tame" in regard to culture -- there's often an effort to make what was once radical teaching more socially acceptable, less upsetting to the powers that be.  Oh, there's an effort to be faithful, to be sure!  But the disciples have seen the original teaching reshaped by the culture in which it is lived.  So Paul's radical teaching that ethnicity, social standing and gender have no meaning in the Christian fellowship (Galatians 3:27-28) gets turned into advice about how women are to behave within the community so that they don't offend the non-Christian culture (1 Timothy 2:8-13).

     But in my reading today, something jumped out of 1 Timothy that caught my attention.  In the New Revised English Bible, 1 Timothy 1:5-7 reads "This instruction [which "Paul" has told young Timothy to share in Ephesus as a correction to what the leaders there have been teaching] has love as its goal, the love which springs from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a genuine faith.  Through lack of these some people have gone astray into a wilderness of words.  They set out to be teachers of the law, although they do not understand either the words they use or the subjects about which they are so dogmatic."

     I thought about all the groups (and one in particular, which tends to spend a lot of time in the news) who use Christianity as a club, to beat up other people, who use it to vilify the people of whom they are afraid.  The Gospel has the goal of teaching us how to live so that we may love; not to manufacture it ourselves, but to love the way we have already been loved.  The letter writer is explicit about this:  "I give thanks to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has made me equal to the task; I thank him for judging me worthy of trust...although in the past I had met him with abuse and persecution and outrage...the grace of our Lord was lavished upon me, along with the faith and love which are ours in Christ Jesus...Here is a saying you may trust, one that merits full acceptance:  'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners'; and among them I stand first [an aside here -- first among sinners, not among the saved].  But I was mercifully dealt with for this very purpose, the Jesus Christ might find in me the first occasion for displaying his inexhaustible patience, and that I might be typical of all who were in the future to have faith in him and gain eternal life.  To the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever!  Amen." (vv. 12-17)

     There is so much fear in church life.  So much hatred thrown around in the name of God, so much violence done under a twisted misunderstanding of Christ's purpose and nature and will.  Why and how do people who claim to take the Bible literally (let alone seriously!) manage to avoid "Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; bless those who curse you; pray for those who treat you spitefully...Give to everyone who asks you; if anyone takes what is yours, do not demand it back.  Treat others as you would like them to treat you...if you do only good to those who do good to you, what credit is there in that?...Be compassionate, as your Father is compassionate...Do not judge and you swill not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned...for whatever measure you deal out to others will be dealt to you in turn." (Luke 67:27-38, edited)?

     I know, I know.  I'm judging and condemning.  It's a vicious circle.  But what if, as Christians, we agreed that, no matter what else happened, we would make those principles the most basic foundation of our life together, of the way we follow Christ, the way we express our faith?  Maybe, just maybe, our children and grandchildren saw that faith made us generous and courageous and inviting instead of closed and anxious and rejecting, they might be curious about faith and about life in community instead of running the other way.

Gratitude

Thirty-two years ago today I walked into my first "real" job.  I was the Associate Pastor at a church 800 miles from my home, a newly ordained pastor, fresh out of seminary.  A baby, younger than both of my kids are today.  It was the beginning of an amazing journey, through a variety of types of ministry.  I've been an Associate, an Interim Pastor, a permanent part-time pastor, a full time pastor, a program director at a retreat center, a college chaplain, done consulting work...I've met so many amazing people, been invited to share weddings and anniversaries, been with people at the moment of death... I've been part of ordinations and dedicated babies and their families to the intention of forming a family shaped and under-girded by faith.  I've had the opportunity to address national conferences and to spend time in prayer and meditation and study.  Sometimes I feel guilty that I get paid to do what I do.  Some days I think that they could never pay me enough to do what I have to do.  Some days I have no idea what I'm doing or how to do what I have to do.  But I am incredibly grateful for the privilege of doing it.  Every time I try to do something else, I come back because it is something that is in my bones.  The Apostle Paul said, "Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel."  That's how I feel.  I'm miserable when I try to do other things.

That same day I walked into my office for the first time, the man who was my senior pastor was on the phone talking to someone, and when I walked in, he said, "She just walked in the office" and handed me the receiver (It was 1981.  Phones were still two pieces connected to each other and hardwired into a wall!).  A voice said, "Welcome home!"  It was the chair of the search committee that had called me there, and I was so touched by that greeting, knowing that even though I was far from what I had always considered home, I was among people who would welcome me and offer me a home among them.  That they did.  Those people are still among the folks who are closest to my heart.  A number of them are the people I call my "Sacred Circle" -- a group who create holy time and space when they are together, and who hold it in existence even when they are far apart.  And that voice that said, "Welcome home!" belongs to the man who has since claimed my heart -- the man who is truly a soul mate, whose love embodies grace, whose curiosity and intellect invite me to explore new ideas and new paradigms of reality, who still surprises me and makes me laugh.  I am so grateful for this wonderful man who is willing to share his life with me and to bear my burdens with me and to put up with the burden I can be.  He has created a home every where we have lived, through all the seasons of our life together.

Twenty-four years ago today I arrived at O'Hare Airport after a 30+ hour journey from Manila in the Philippines with our son. We travelled from  Manila to Hong Kong, Hong Kong to Tokyo, then had a brief stay at the Holiday Inn at the Narita Airport where, completely disoriented by traveling over the International Date Line, I awoke at 3 a.m. local time to watch the Bastille Day fireworks from Paris as the French celebrated their Bi-Centennial.  Then we flew from Tokyo to Dallas, and Dallas to Chicago, where our son, completely disoriented by this strange woman taking him from the only home he had known in his 15 months of life, arrived in his new home.  Mike had a rough time adjusting to that change in his environment  at a time when he had no verbal skills to reason through what he was experiencing.  It took a lot of years for him to understand what had happened in his life, and there were years when therapists told us that we should not celebrate his Homecoming Day, that it was making him feel different, and odd.  And I wasn't the best mother through some of those rough periods.  Sometimes he just pushed all my buttons and we clashed  dreadfully.  But I have always been grateful for the gift of this wonderful young man.  He is creative and imaginative, and has a wicked sense of humor.   He has a deeply spiritual side and is wonderful with children.  I'm hoping he will have children because I know he will be a great father.

July 15 is a day that moves me to profound gratitude every year, because even in a year when there are woes and frustrations, it reminds me of wondrous gifts I have been given.