Saturday, December 22, 2018


Were you a slave when you were called? Do not let it trouble you – although if you can gain your freedom, do so.                                                                                      1 Cor. 7: 21 (New International Version)

If a slave when called, do not accustom yourself to it; rather if you can indeed become free, make the most of it.                                                                                      1 Cor. 7: 21 (Hart translation)

Notice the difference. David Bentley Hart in the footnotes to his new translation of the New Testament offers a persuasive case that do not accustom yourself to slavery is a more accurate rendering of Paul’s Greek than the grin and bear it translations that we have heard all our lives. The NIV prescription of passivity is far and away the norm and has been so since the Bible was translated into English. 

All translations reflect the cultural, political, and socio-economic context of the translators and those who pay them and adopt their translations for Church use. The King James Version is said by some to be slanted with a decidedly monarchist bias. But my questions are: 

1.     What underlying assumptions would lead us to translate a verse as telling slaves to be content in their slavery when it is at least arguably possible to translate the verse to tell them to resist? The resistance translation makes more sense with the rest of the passage which says that Christ has turned all those power relationships on their head;
and it better accords with  Paul’s usual teachings which constitute him as the original liberation theologian. For freedom Christ has set us free. Galatians 5: 1. Would the author of those words tell a slave to just put up with it?

2.     Does the Bible, our sacred text, shape us into a domination system people – or has the denomination system shaped the Bible? Perhaps it is chicken and egg. 

We no longer use the Bible to defend slavery. 1 Corinthians 7: 1 has been an embarrassment for over a century. But we have continued to translate it do not let (being enslaved) trouble you. I think this prescription for passivity reflects something broader than the slavery issue. I find a ubiquitous assumption that religion – or more aptly spirituality– is about cultivating indifference, a calm acquiescence to life with all itsslings and arrows, especially subservience to the domination system, what Paul called the Principalities and Powers of this present age – though Paul clearly called Christians to place Christ above those Principalities and Powers; and New Testament scholars from the liberal Walter Wink to the conservative N. T. Wright see Jesus as a lived rebellion against such worldly domination. But in popular religion, we shake our heads sadly at famines, epidemics, and atrocious violations of human rights saying such things as, It’s God’s will. Everything happens for a reason. We’ll understand it all by and by. 

I see a consumer demand for an opiate of the people religion.  Against that opioid spirituality, German theologian, Jurgen Moltmann[i]proclaims a hope that sets us at odds with the status quo. Moltmann, says,

. . . (E)xperience and hope stand in contradiction to each other . . . with the result that . . .  man is not brought into . . . agreement with the given situation, but is drawn into the conflict between experience and hope.

In the Apostolic era, Christians were committed to transformation rather than passivity. Do not be conformed to the ways for this world. Rather be transformed by the renewing of your minds. Romans 12:2.  In the Patristic Era, Christianity took a stand against Manichaeism, which saw evil as an active force in the cosmos while goodness was inherently passive and indifferent. Augustine rejected the Manichaeism of his youth in favor of Christianity and upheld a theology that participated in the world in a transformative way for the sake of God’s Kingdom Mission.[ii]

The orthodox tradition of Paul and Augustine insists on a tension between Christian hope and the worldly status quo. Against that orthodox tradition, there is decidedly a history of opioid spirituality and carrot and stick religion used to keep people in line.  It is the Jurgen Moltmanns and the Leonardo Boffs, the so-called radicals, who are in line with the ole timereligion of the Early Church. 

What do we expect from the Church in the face of wildfires, rising sea levels, genocide, and human trafficking? The do not let it trouble you translation, or stand up, raise your heads, the kingdom is near[iii] -- engage the world for Christ, engage the world with the transforming power of a love that shows mercy and demands justice. 

[ii]That is an admittedly simplistic statement of Augustine’s complex political theology. He was no revolutionary, but he did insist that Christianity participate in the mire and the muck of worldly politics for the sake of insinuating God’s Kingdom values into the mix. See, Garry Wills, The Confessions of a Conservative.

[iii]Luke 21: 25-36

Sunday, August 19, 2018


Today’s lessons are about wisdom.
The idea of wisdom in the Bible
grew out of crafts like tent making and carpentry. 
Craftsmen learned that you can do things well or badly. 
There is a right way to go about our work.

As time went by they came to see life itself as a craft.
Life can be lived well or badly. 
Wisdom is simply the art of living well.

Much of the Bible is about how to live well.
Living well helps us sleep at night, get along with our friends,
         and make the world around us a better place. 
Many people have the notion that wisdom must 
         be something very solemn.
It must frown and look very serious.
Wisdom is always wagging its finger at our foolishness.
But Paul paints a different picture of wisdom.
He says, 
         “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise.
         Do not get drunk . . . But be filled with the Spirit as you sing
         Psalms and spiritual hymns among yourselves, 
         singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts,
         giving thanks to God . . . at all times and for everything
         in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

The first thing to see here is that wisdom isn’t a solemn lecture.
It’s a song.
Wisdom is pleasurable, like a melody in the heart. 
Wisdom isn’t dour and judging. It’s playful like music.

The second thing to notice about wisdom
         is that it recognizes a basic truth about reality.
It’s a gift. It’s all a gift. 
The sunrise and the moonset are gifts.
The friendship of another person is a gift. 
Our very ability to breathe, to laugh, hear the rain on our roof –
         it’s all a gift.

There is a wise way and a foolish way to handle wood.
It’s starts by recognizing it as wood and not copper.
There is a wise way and a foolish way to handle life.
To handle life wisely,
 we must first see it for what it is -- a gift.

Paul was writing in Greek and the Greek word for gift is charis.
What shall we do with this gift of life, this gift of everything.
Obviously, Paul says, we say “thank you.”
In our lesson where Paul says “giving thanks,” 
he uses the Greek word eucharistein. 
That’s where we get the word Eucharist.
But Eucharist in the Greek isn’t just 
a thank you note on pretty stationery.
Eucharist means a gift back, a return gift, a thank you gift.
So what can we give God?

God has given us our very selves.
In thanksgiving for God’s primal generosity,
         we give something to match God’s gift to us.
We give God ourselves. 

This is the great gift exchange of the spiritual life.
God gives us our lives.
We give our lives back to God.
We place ourselves on this altar 
         to be blessed, broken, and given back to us
         enriched by love and grace and mercy. 

St. Ignatius of Loyola prayed,
         “Accept O Lord my memory, my will, my imagination, my understanding.
         All that I am and all that I have you have given me.
         I give it all back to be disposed of according to your good pleasure.
         Grant me only the comfort of your presence and the joy of your love.
         With these I shall be more than rich and shall ask for nothing more.”

That, my friends, is the core meaning of the Eucharist.
And it is the heart of wisdom.

Thursday, August 16, 2018

1st EPISTLE GENERAL OF DAN: Getting Our Needs Met

Authentic Christian . . .  spiritual practices are not just about getting in a zone or having an experience. They are about opening ourselves to God’s love flowing through us into the world. 
-- 18thEpistle to the Nevadans

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

It goes without saying we live in a time of social disintegration. The Church seems pre-occupied with planning her own funeral while political extremists swirl into increasingly bizarre paranoid delusions and gun up. Democracy teeters on the brink. The left and the right both spin out increasingly fine-tuned rules to condemn each other in a Manichaean politics of mutual demonizing. That is the context in which we do – or do not do – our religion.

Looking to do my small part for civilization, I was recently at All Saints Church to be trained for a Get Out the Vote community walk. The IAF organizer built our training around a summary of Monsignor Philip Murnion’s Forming Parish Community.

Murnion’s book is like a bucket of cold water dumped on my benumbed consciousness. He says, 

Authentic parish life must enable people to enter into 
public life and must offset temptations to retreat into
a privatized, pietistic religion. 

Murnion raises basic questions about our project, starting with: what is the 21st century religious/spiritual consumer looking for? What does the market demand?

We basically want to feel better. We want to relax and get happy. Secular life is often stressful, anxious, hostile, painful, and a whole array of feelings we’d obviously rather avoid. Alcohol, drugs, and diverting entertainment are our main ways of managing that unpleasantness. Religion is generally perceived as a competitor in the stress relief market. We are seen – and we see ourselves -- as a purveyor of spiritual opioids. Marx famously said, Religion is the opiate of the people, and we believed him. 

One may, for example, learn to meditate in ways that calm the mind and lower the blood pressure. Or one may go to a charismatic religious weekend to sing happy songs and enjoy a psycho-socially manufactured high in which one is deliriously happy about something though it is not clear what that something is. It doesn’t matter. We feel better. Calmer mind. Lower blood pressure. Feeling happy. Those are not bad things. They are indisputably good as far as they go. It is the same with pain relief. 

Many of us participate in regular church activity expecting a lower dose of the same opioid. The familiarity of ritual and music can help us escape the turmoil at work or home. But the crucial ingredient is harder to notice because it is colorless, odorless, and tasteless – church chit chat. There are unspoken, even unconscious, norms for our conversation at Church, things we routinely say, and other things we do not say. Church chit chat is crucial to the conspiracy against consciousness.Thou shalt not be aware.[i]

We are not aware of the unspeakable until someone speaks it. For example, there was recently an uproar about the government separating immigrant families at the border. It had happened under the administrations of both parties, though more aggressively under the current administration. Leaders of both political parties spoke out against it. Laura Bush condemned it. The President’s wife and daughter condemned it. The President reversed the policy. By this point, there really was no controversy. 

After the issue had been basically resolved, one of our congregations had a Vacation Bible School. The following Sunday, a priest in the course of celebrating the successful VBS said seeing families brought closer together was a stark contrast to the separation of families that had gone on at the border. One member walked out in angry protest. Did he disagree with everyone about family separation? He did not say so.[ii]The priest’s offense was mentioning something morally painful. He did not come to Church to hear about such things. Church is a place where nothing painful or difficult is to be spoken of or even remembered. This is our happy place. Pass the scotch and a tab of ethylmorphine, please. 

Let us be fair. Life is hard. The First Noble Truth really is suffering. I have my own anxiety disorder. I get it. I do not blame anyone for wanting some relief. That brings us to the second big question: Does Christianity have that to offer? 

The answer is: yes but not in the way we expect. The whole Marx quote is: Religion is the opiate of the people. The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. Their real happiness. 

Authentic Christianity is not the spiritual opioid churchianity that conspires against consciousness, artificially calms our minds, gets us happily hooked on a feeling, and makes sure no one says anything upsetting. Christianity is not escapist. If religion is as Marx described it – and churchianity is – then Christianity is ironically what Marx calls the abolition of religion. Remember what Monsignor Murnion said, Authentic parish life must . . . offset temptations to retreat into a privatized, pietistic religion. That privatized pietistic religion is what Marx called the opiate of the people. 

I don’t like Bonhoeffer’s term religionless Christianity because it sounds like spiritual but not religious individualistic piety. But that’s the very opposite of what Bonhoeffer meant. If you put it together with his classic Life Together, in which he argues that the Church is the essential meeting ground of Christianity, there is no way he was espousing private piety and spiritual individualism. His Christianity was religionless because it wasn’t a quid pro quo deal for a happy afterlife. It wasn’t an investment or fire insurance. It was not private palliative piety. It was Christian because it was a disciplined life of prayer and committed action in the world, the kind of action that led him to die for opposing fascism. Bonhoeffer explicitly rejects the spiritual anesthesia project in favor of infinite compassion. 
         The human being is called upon to share in God’s suffering
at the hands of a godless world. Thus we must really live in that godless world and not try to cover up or transfigure its godlessness somehow with religion.[iii]

By religion he means the whole conspiracy against consciousness, the assurance it will all be alright and is already alright deep down. 

Here’s the problem for Christianity. We are striving for union with God, striving to become Godly. But this is a God who chooses to become human, to share our human nature, to live and die as one of us. Our journey to God loops back to the real world, to messy humanity, to where we started. 

         And the end of all our exploring 
Will be to arrive where we started 
And to know the place for the first time.[iv]  

Paul invites us, have the same mind in you that was in Christ Jesus. That’s Christification right? How cool is that, to become like Jesus! But what is it like to have the same mind as Jesus who though he was in the form of God did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being in human likeness?[v]Jesus invites us to follow him by taking up our cross.[vi]

How does that brand of religion appeal to people who have problems enough already and just want to feel better? Feel-good religion, be it charismatic, contemplative, or whatever, is what the people demand. It sells, doesn’t it? It sells because it is what Bonhoeffer called cheap grace. Cheap grace is what Marx called the illusion of happiness. Where’s the beef? 

Human beings are built to be channels. God’s love flows through us into the world. When we allow that love to flow, it gets us into all manner of trouble, it entangles our lives with humanity in all its chaos, it leads us not away from this darkling plane[vii]but deeper into it.Now here’s the kicker. That is where true joy is to be found. It isn’t a shallow high. On the contrary, it breaks our hearts – open – to let the love in and out. 

When a channel acts like a reservoir – as when we act like spiritual consumers instead of servants – all we get is a blockage. Love isn’t love until you give it away.[viii]

The irony in the spiritual life is that we all want to get our needs met, but we can never get our needs met until we forget about getting our needs met and lose ourselves in God – not God as an abstract idea or a reassuring fantasy – God in the fat lady in Franny and Zooey,[ix]God in the refugee, God in the hospital administrator, God in the street bum, God in the blackjack dealer, God not on a throne in heaven but commingled inextricably into our broken humanity. We may not want to go there. But that’s where the treasure is buried. And, guess what, we’re already there. 

And the end of all our exploring 
Will be to arrive where we started 
And to know the place for the first time.[x]  

[i]Alice Miller, Thou Shalt Not Be Aware
[ii]This walk out was not an isolated protest. Multiple preachers have told me that in the same time period they mentioned the separation of families at the border. Multiple laity walked out. None of them said they supported taking toddlers away from their parents. But they were quite angry the subject had been raised at all. 
[iii]Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters from Prison.
[iv]T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding
[v]Philippians 2
[vi]Matthew 16: 24
[vii]Matthew Arnold, Dover Beach
[x]T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding

Monday, July 23, 2018


There is One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism.
Paul said that – a lot – in different way.
His Epistles are all about the same thing:
            how to be the Church, the Body of Christ. 
The first churches were always dividing up into factions
            over this issue here; over that issue there.
In Corinth, some folk spoke in tongues and some didn’t.
Some ate meat, and some didn’t. 

In Syria, next door to Israel,
most of the Christians were ethnically Jewish
            and still practiced Judaism.
For them, Christianity was another party within Judaism,
            like the Pharisees or Sadducees.
But take things up to Western Turkey
and demographics shift.
Things were different around Ephesus.
There were Jews and some of the Jews were Christian.
But the majority of the Christians were gentiles.
So, the church division was still between Jew and gentile.

There had been a real blowout nearby in Galatia,
            over whether you could even be a Christian
            if you didn’t convert to Judaism first,
            and for men that meant getting circumcised.
That’s the kind of division Paul was writing into.

We have all seen Christians divide up over all sorts of things:
            women’s ordination, dancing, drinking, movies on Sundays – 
            whether the born-again experience is essential to salvation,
whether baptism in the spirit with tongue speaking 
                        is essential to salvation; 
            whether the promised millennium of peace and justice
                        is to come before or after the rapture;
            whether there will be a rapture;
            whether the virgin birth is literal or symbolic.

We have divided over incense, prayer book revision,
            abortion, gay marriage, background checks for gun buyers,
and whether it is too Catholic to put candles on the altar.
You name it. 
In Nevada, we divide up urban versus rural, 
            North versus South, and East versus West. 
Whenever we run out of issues to divide up over,
            we get busy inventing some new ones.

What is true in the church is especially true in the wider society.
In his landmark book, The Big Sort, Bill Bishop lays out the facts.
America is more diverse than ever.
But we have divided ourselves up as never before 
to ensure that we only interact people like ourselves
--- people who look, think, and even eat like we do.

We live in neighborhoods of people like us.
We go to churches where we all think alike.
We watch news channels carefully programed to offer only facts
            that support whatever opinions we already hold. 
Social media logarithms insure we see the posts
            that will pour gasoline on whatever fire
            we have already have going. 

The social and political impact is obvious: division and discord.
We have redrawn the congressional districts into conservative
            or liberal
so candidates do not have to campaign across ideological lines.
That’s why there are no longer any moderates to broker deals
and Congress no longer works.

Our divisions also have a personal impact.
Philosopher Martha Nussbaumsays we are losing 
            our very ability to imagine how things look to someone else.
That makes our world smaller. It shrinks our lives. 
We can divide up Black versus white,
            English speaker versus Spanish speaker, liberal versus conservative. 
The categories don’t matter.
What matters is the very act of dividing up 
            that isolates us and narrows our minds.

It was into just such a division that Ephesianswas written.
You can substitute any of our contemporary divisions       
            for the division of Jew versus gentile in this letter
            and we’ll see how the message plays. 
Paul said, Now . . .you who once were far off 
            have been brought near by the blood of Christ.        
For he is our peace. //

In his flesh he has made both groups into one
            and has broken down the dividing wall,
            that is the hostility between us.

My bishop in Georgia used to have a saying.
When people would ask him if he could work 
            with some person or group of people, he’d say,
            I haven’t met anyone yet that Jesus didn’t die for his sins.//
And that, my friends, is where it stands.
There may be somebody we don’t agree with. 
We may not even like him very much.
But you know what: Jesus went to the cross for him too.
Jesus shed his blood for him too.

We drink that blood in Holy Communion to make us one.
We lay down our grudges and animosities
            in order to take Jesus into our hearts at the rail.

There are so many standards 
by which we judge each other as right or wrong,
wise or foolish, good or bad.
Paul had a word for those standards.
He called them the law.
And we’ve got all kinds of law:
            we have liberal laws that judge conservatives
            and conservative laws that judge liberals.
We got a law lurking around every corner. 
The law is the standard of judgment we use to set ourselves apart.
But Paul says,
            (Jesus) has abolished the law with its commandments . . .,
            that he might create in himself onenew humanity;
in place of the two, thus making peace,
            and might reconcile both groups into one body through the cross.

One speaks Spanish; the other, English.
One is black descended from slaves; the other, white,
descended from slave owners.
One is straight; the other, gay. 
And we all got a law to make us right and the other guy wrong.

But the Bible says, (Jesus) has abolished the law . . .
            that he might create in himself onenew humanity.
How did he do that?
He went to the cross for both sides
            of every division we can invent.

Paul says Jesus . . . reconcile(d) both groups into one body 
through the cross.
When Jesus brings us together in the Body of Christ,
            he doesn’t abolish our differences.
He doesn’t make us all alike. 
He leaves us different.
But he gives us something in common
-- something that runs deeper than our differences.
He gives us grace. 
He gives us salvation.
He gives us the love of God. 

We may have religious differences or political differences
            or different spiritual styles. 
And that’s a good thing.
How bland it would be if we were all alike!
How dull life would be if we didn’t know people
            who saw the world through different eyes.
We get to enjoy each other’s differences
            because we have something deep in common.
We act out that something in common at the communion rail.

Here’s the thing with Communion. 
We can get the gluten out of the bread.
We can get the alcohol out of the wine. 
But we can’t strain the grace out.
When you receive the bread and wine and you receive 
            the grace that forgives your sins.
But here’s the catch: that your is plural.
The grace that forgives your sins
            forgives those other people too.
You are in the same boat – the Ark of Salvation.

Remember how Noah loaded the Ark two by two.
You enter the Ark of Salvation two by two,
            and that person beside you may not be
            anyone you would expect.

It’s The gifts of God for the people of God.
Take them in remembrance that Christ died for you (plural)
-- died to make all of us one body –
and feed on him in your hearts by faith with thanksgiving.