Feel the Spirit

 

In the first chapter of the Gospel of Mark, Jesus is baptized by John the Baptist in the Jordan. As he is coming up out of the water, "he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him" (Mark 1:10). That's pretty powerful, but it gets better. A voice calls down from heaven, saying, "'You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased'" (Mark 1:11). Immediately after this awe-inspiring moment, the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness.

I can't even imagine what Jesus must've felt. I have never been filled up with the Spirit, or seen it descend on me like a dove. I have never seen the heavens open up or heard a voice call to me. But this is what we want, isn't it? We want real results when participate in church. We fully expect that at some point, we're going to hear the voice of the Lord as clearly as if whispered in our ear. We want to be claimed as part of the family. We want to have our existence affirmed and  have God's seal of approval stamped on our forehead. Perhaps most importantly, we want to be physically, mentally, emotionally, and of course, spiritually moved by the Spirit from apathy into action. We want purpose and direction.

However, most weeks, I walk out of the Sunday evening service at LCM feeling no different than when I walked in. I don't feel transformed. Sometimes, I feel like I'm trying too hard. I know I can't force myself to have an experience. All I can do is be open to the possibility that I will internalize a little of the Spirit.

Still, while I don't expect the sky to open for me anytime soon, I cannot shake the sensation that sometimes, I'm alone in the room; the Spirit didn't show up at all. I don't know how to feel about that or if it's even true. Like most mysteries in this world, I may never get an answer.

The 21st Century Church, Part Four: Re-Formation

Exactly 494 years ago today, an insolent monk in what we now call Germany nailed a notice to the door of a church. There were 95 things he was ticked off about and he listed off every one. One scathing indictment of the Roman Catholic Church after another. Martin Luther had guts (and he was probably a little stupid). At the time, the Church was the most powerful institution on Earth. Making it angry was likely to get you excommunicated or even executed. But Luther stood firm in his beliefs.

At the heart of his 95 theses about what was wrong about the Church were five key conclusions that Luther had gleaned from careful study of the Bible. The basis on which he challenged the Pope's monopoly on salvation now forms the foundation of modern Protestantism, something he never imagined or wanted.

Martin Luther believed that the road to being saved was very different from the path prescribed by the Church, encapsulated by his five core principles:

• The first was sola scriptura — by Scripture alone. The authority of God does not lie in any person, office, building, or institution, but only in the words of the Bible.

• The second was sola fide — by faith alone. You can't buy your way into Heaven (despite what Pope Leo X would've told you). God has no use for money and does not require good works. You get in on your faith, in a transaction that skips the middleman (Rome) entirely.

• The third was sola gratia — by grace alone. This one is my favorite. No one forgives sins but God himself (of course God is beyond gender, but that's another blog) and nothing we do can make us worthy of this forgiveness. The good news is we don't have to do anything. God is merciful and gives us his forgiveness as a free gift.

• The fourth was solus Christus — by Christ alone. This is gift of grace is given through God's son, who died so that we might live. That's how great his love is for us.

• The fifth was soli Deo gloria — glory to God alone. I imagine this one really angered Luther. In his day, the Church held all the power and influence in Europe and was in the process of violently converting the native peoples of Central and South America. The Pope lived opulently. The glory was to the Church...and if there was any left over, God could have that.

It has been 500 years since Martin Luther took his historic stand against the Church. A Protestant branch of Christianity swept the globe, inspired by his theology. A whole new church was named after him. The Catholic Church survived and thrived. It, too, was reformed by the Reformation. Martin Luther became a mythic figure, a champion of intellectual and philosophical rebellion and one of the first men in history to assert his individuality against the hegemonic ideology of his time.

In 1517, Luther saw that the Church was broken and he sought to give it form again. In 2011, our church is also broken. People are leaving in droves. Our stance on social justice issues is largely limited to words and resolutions, but lacks any real action. The stances themselves are deliberately vague to keep from alienating a diverse base of financial support that covers the entire political spectrum. We have trouble practicing what we preach and we get so caught up in the trappings of modern Christianity that we ignore or forget about the meat of our beliefs. We don't question. We don't debate. We don't grow in our faith through serious reflection and discussion. We are stagnant, without form.

We need to re-form our church. We need to give it life again, the same way Martin Luther did. We need the courage to say that the institution is wrong. We need to take a good, hard look at the scriptures and remind ourselves of what we believe. The time has come — time for a new Reformation.

The 21st Century Church, Part Two: Passion & Compassion

I heard somewhere that people have been using the word "church" incorrectly for centuries. "Church" has come to used as a noun — a word for the building, and occasionally applied to the people who gather inside its protective walls. However, "church" takes on a different meaning when you use it as a verb instead. The verb "chuch" becomes a action or a behavior — an experience instead of the physical bricks and mortar.

That's the kind of church that I long for. Nowhere in the Bible can I find the place where Jesus commanded his disciples to go build a bunch of cathedrals. So often, we "go to church," meaning that we go to a building that houses our entire religious experience. What a mundane way to experience faith. If we limit it to just the confines of four walls for one hour, one day a week, then we have completely missed the point.

This is yet another reason why I think the (noun) Church is struggling. There's very little satisfaction in such a shallow experience. In Acts 2:42-47, we get a very different sense of the experience of being church: "They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds^* to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home^* and ate their food with glad and generous^* hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved."^44454647

That is what our experience could be — a dynamic church of devotion to teaching, fellowship, and community. An experience that combines passion for scripture and contemplation with a deep passion for outreach and goodwill. We, too, could praise God with glad and generous hearts, but to do so, we need to open the doors of our exclusive cliques. We have to leave the building and show compassion for our neighbors with the passion and zeal of the disciples gathered at Pentecost.

Some denominations are better at this than others (though now is not the time or place to be drawing those distinctions) and that is why I believe it is vitally necessary that a new, emerging branch of Christianity embrace the qualities of many diverse groups.

A 21st century Christianity should combine passion for God with compassion for those in need. Only then will it be relevant in our postmodern world.

The 21st Century Church, Part One: Egalitarianism

It has been over 2,000 years since Jesus — the Word made flesh — came to live and die among us. 2,000 years since the teachings of a radical young Jewish rabbi inspired the founding of a major world religion. There have been many changes in Christendom since those early days and sometimes it can be hard to tell what parts of our church experience have been there from the beginning and which have accumulated over time.

The question I have is: Do we need all this extra stuff? How important is the ceremony and frills to our relationship with God? I know I'm not the only one asking these questions. I think most people are asking them deep down. What we need is not just an answer, but a new direction. The church is going to change in the 21st century. And I'm going to humbly attempt to articulate how in my next few blog posts.

The first big shift I see is away from the hierarchical church system we see today. I was privileged to have a foretaste of that church last night, when I sat down with my good friend Ron and dissected this week's scripture readings. What emerged from the evening was a deeper understanding of the text than could ever be gained from a sermon (no offense to any members of the clergy who might read this).

I suspect that this is much like the early Christian church in the first decades after Jesus' death and resurrection — a group of equals sitting down at a table, breaking bread together and discussing the tricky questions of theology and practice.

This our heritage, and I suspect it is also our future. There was no distinction between those behind the altar and those in the pews. There was discussion in an egalitarian community. Church, therefore, is not an individual experience, but a communal one.

A non-hierarchical church centered around the Word and the Eucharist, where we are all equal members of the priesthood and engaged in deep, ongoing conversation and discovery. That's the church I want to be a part of.