Risky Business

"Cheap grace is the grace we bestow upon ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession...Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate...When Christ calls someone, he bids them come and die." - Dietrich Bonhoeffer

We like things to be easy. We don't want to have to think or commit too much to anything. We want to get the most reward for the least amount of effort. We expect it from our technology, our education, and from our God.

"I went to church and I even put money in the offering, so we're cool, right, God?"We did the minimum and we think that should be good enough. Yes, you're still saved through grace; grace that is a free gift. But that grace is hollow, because you didn't put yourself on the line for it.

For years, our experience of church has been safe. Sit, stand, sing, bread, wine, Jesus loves you. Being a follower of Jesus is mainstream and acceptable. In most cases, we don't risk anything by being a Christian. We proclaim a cotton candy gospel (that is, mostly sugar and air) and nobody gets stoned to death, crucified, or drawn and quartered. Do you see what I'm getting at? I'm not saying you have to defy the Roman Empire to validate your faith, but if you're not willing to stand up for it, what is it really worth? What are we worth if we let intolerance and injustice rule over us without a fight?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor living in Germany in the 1930s and '40s. When many clergy stood by while Hitler spouted hate and killed millions in concentration camps, Bonhoeffer realized that he could not stand by and let this happen. He started an underground seminary, smuggled people out of areas under Nazi control, and eventually became involved in a plot to assassinate Hitler. When the attempt failed, Bonhoeffer was arrested and executed, joining a long line of martyrs.

Grace is not cheap. It is costly. Jesus paid for it with his life and many of those who followed him have paid the same price. I don't know how we face that risk today, but I know that we shouldn't take this precious gift for granted. You don't have to earn it, but I think that we have a responsibility to use it. What is point of forgiveness if we keep it all to ourselves? We have to care for the less fortunate, stand with the broken and oppressed, and fight tooth and nail for a better world. Only when we risk our reputation, our relationship, and maybe our lives can we truly call ourselves disciples of Christ. At least, that's how I see it.

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.

Minneapolis: The Right Wrong Man for the Job

In high school, I was not part of my church's youth group. I didn't exactly believe in God in those days. I was never confirmed and I certainly didn't attend any big Lutheran youth events. I was skeptical of the born-again mentality and the "rah-rah Jesus" crowd and I still am. So, imagine my surprise when I received a phone call from a beloved former pastor asking me to be part of the creative team for the 2012 ELCA Youth Gathering in New Orleans. Now, imagine my surprise when I considered the offer and said, "yes."

Next summer, some 37,000 high school-aged Lutherans will descend on the city of New Orleans for a week of spiritual excitement. And I, of all people, am helping to shape their experience. It blows my mind that I am currently sitting in a hotel room just south of Minneapolis, considering how to welcome and engage that many young people. The people in charge must not have heard about me.

I shouldn't make assumptions about the people who attend these gatherings and what they experience. From what I heard, the experience is powerful, even transformative. That's a lot of pressure being on the planning side of things.

Yet, I find my biases disappearing. The other members of the team come from all walks of Lutheranism across the country and are committed to making this an event that fires people up without being corny; excites people without being elitist. I hope that my unique perspective — as an outsider, as a doubter, as a Christian who hasn't quite figured out the Jesus thing — will help make this event profound and grounded in the realities of faith instead of what one member of our team called "cotton candy faith" (ie. mostly air).

The theme of the Gathering is "Citizens with the Saints," taken from Paul's letter to the early church in Ephesus. In Ephesians 2:14-20, Paul (or a later writer heavily influenced by the Pauline tradition) writes:

"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. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, so that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone."

 In this piece of Scripture, I see so much potential. Here, we as a community admit that we are broken and split, but reconciled through Jesus' death. We have been outcasts and outsiders, but God has taken us in and given us citizenship. We have become members of the family.

In the next few days, the creative team will wrestle with how to bring this Scripture to life for tens of thousands of teenagers. The challenge excites me and I am eager to contribute in my own small way to the discussion. The future of the church rests with the youth and it is my honor to help guide that future through what these students see, hear, and feel at this gathering.

To look at my past, I would appear to be the wrong person for this job, but Christ has broken down the dividing wall and made me a citizen of a new nation. With God guiding me this weekend, I think I might just be the right wrong person for the job.