God and Weather

In another blog, I suggested (tongue-in-cheek) that the current drought in Texas might be God punishing Texans for being anti-gay.

This was in response to (among other things) Congressional Representative (and Presidential candidate) Michelle Bachmann's statement last month that:

I don't know how much God has to do to get the attention of the politicians. We've had an earthquake; we've had a hurricane. He said, 'Are you going to start listening to me here?'

Last Sunday, on Meet the Press, Bob Schieffer asked, "[D]o you believe that God uses the weather to send people messages?"

Bachmann replied:

I believe in God. I'm not ashamed to say that I believe in God. I'm a woman of faith, and a woman of prayer. But the comments that I made right then was a metaphor, that was very simply what I was doing.

But does Michelle Bachmann believe in Jesus, and what would Jesus say?

In explaining why we should love our enemies, Jesus said:

He [God] causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

(Matt. 5:45)

If you believe in the words of the Bible and the words of Jesus, then no, God does not use the weather to send people messages.

The Parent Metaphor

In my own thinking about God (or the Divine, or whatever word we want to use), the metaphor that I have found to be most useful is the metaphor of the loving parent, because it carries with it the idea of unconditional love.

A truly loving (and wise) parent will not try to control a child's life, and will not try to control what they do or who they love. They will not plan paths for their children, but instead allow their children to go their own ways.

This is very much the imagery that Jesus was drawing upon when he called God "the Father." For example, in the "Parable of the Prodigal Son" found in Luke 15:11-32, what was the plan of the father for his son, and how did he try to control or guide his son's life? The answers are none, and he didn't. When the prodigal son asked for the share of the property that would be his someday, the father gave it to him, and there's no mention of any arguments or questions. And then the son left. Once again, no mention of what the father might have said. And then, when the son had wasted all of the money and had returned home, the father greeted him without questions or recriminations. Unconditional love.

But we also have to raise that bar a notch or two because when we're talking about the difference between God and Mankind, we're not talking about the (metaphorical) difference between a parent and an adult child, but the difference between an adult and an infant. (For a sense of the gulf between God and Mankind, read the diatribe that God addresses to Job in chapter 38-41.)

So when we ask about God's "will" or expectations for us, the best metaphor is that of a parent whose small child has gone to the backyard with other children to play. Does the parent care if the children play hide-and-seek, or cops-and-robbers, or cowboys-and-indians? And does the parent really care whether the child plays the role of the seeker or the sought, the cop or the robber, or the cowboy or the indian?

That's my response to people who ask if God could really love Hitler. If we really are as children to God, then Nazism was just another childish game, and God loves his children regardless of what games they have decided to play.

The Nine Billion Names of God

"The Nine Billion Names of God" is the title of a science fiction story I read years ago, the details of which are not relevant to this message, except that it described a religion in Tibet which believed that God had a specific number of names (about nine billion names), and that the purpose of mankind was to write out all of those names.

I thought about that story after driving with a friend, because I pointed out a red-tailed hawk that was sitting on a fence-post at the edge of the road and I was surprised that my friend didn't really seem interested. I can understand someone not wanting to spend time learning about birds, or spend time looking for them, but it puzzled me that someone wouldn't want to admire and learn about a magnificent, beautiful bird that was sitting in plain sight by the side of the road.

In thinking about my own attitudes, I realized that I felt a certain obligation to learn about the animals and plants around me. I can't know God directly, and I can't understand all of creation, but the least I can do is learn the names of the living pieces of God that are around me.

It started with birds, and I've always been pretty good with trees. Lately I've started trying to identify wildflowers, so I'm now learning about Spreading Dogbane, Cow Vetch, Yellow Spearwort, and Pickerel Weed, among others.

I'm thinking that next I'll try to identify different kinds of mosses, lichens, and fungus.

And I'm hoping that the total will be fewer that nine billion.

The Theology of Health Care Reform

I experience a certain amount of cognitive dissonance every time I hear a politician or pundit express opposition to universal health care when the same politician or pundit has previously advocated "Christian values." For example, the "C Street" members of Congress are all very public in their Christianity, very Republican, and very opposed to health care reform.

I describe my reaction as "cognitive dissonance" because it is difficult for me to understand how anyone who thinks of themselves as "Christian" could possibly oppose health care reform or government support of health care.

Consider one of the most well-known of all parables, the parable of the "good Samaritan" in Luke 10:25-37. The context of the parable was an exchange about what Jesus elsewhere described as "the two great commandments," that you should love God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself. Jesus was then asked "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus replied with a story of a man who had been beaten and robbed by thieves and left as dead by the side of the road. Priests and Levites passed him on the road, but a Samaritan (not a Jew) saw him and, moved by pity, bound his wounds and took care of him. Jesus asked which of the three was a neighbor to the man who was robbed and was told, "The one who showed him mercy," to which Jesus replied, "Go and do likewise."

Is there any doubt but that we are required to show mercy to those who are sick or wounded?

In another often-quoted passage, sometimes referred to as the "parable of the sheep and the goats" but more often as the "Judgment of the Nations," Matt. 25:31-45, the context is more complicated, because Jesus is describing future events, and quotes the "Son of Man" when he "comes in his glory" with "all the nations [...] gathered before him." Jesus says that the king will say to those at his right that they are blessed and will inherit the kingdom, because "I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me."

When asked by "the righteous" when it was that he was hungry, thirsty, naked, or sick, the king will reply that "just as you did it to the least of these who are members of my family, you did to to me."

Once again, is there any question but that the righteous will take care of those who are sick, even the least of us?

And yet the self-righteous "Christians" among us are blocking efforts to apply our collective resources to the care of the sick.

I have not seen any public discussion of why someone who calls himself or herself a Christian would oppose universal health care, but the only possible rationale I have been able to imagine is a concern that non-believers would be required to pay tax money for health care for others, and Christians do not want to force their beliefs on non-Christians.

Of course, that same kind of concern doesn't stop those same Christians from being ready and willing to force on others their views on abortion, same-sex marriage, and military spending.

And why don't we let the non-believers speak for themselves? Why don't we who believe in Christian values speak out in support of the principle of health care for all, and be willing (even glad) for our tax dollars to help pay for the health care of the sick and needy? Why is there support for universal health care among atheists and agnostics and so little support among fundamentalist Christians?

Can anyone say "lame rationalization"?

I'm afraid that self-proclaimed Christians oppose health care reform because they are trying to serve two masters, God and wealth, and are failing (as Jesus predicted in Matt. 6:24). If you are so concerned about your own money, and with your own tax liabilities, that you can't support the idea that we should all help each other with the costs of being sick, than you can't really love God and you can't really love your neighbor.

Guns and Jesus

According to the New York Times, the pastor of a church in Louisville, Kentucky, has asked his congregation to bring their guns to church as an "open carry celebration" of "our rights as Americans!”

The pastor, Ken Pagano of New Bethel Church, is quoted as saying that "I don’t see any contradiction in this. Not every Christian denomination is pacifist."

Whether followers of the teachings of Jesus must be pacifists is a good question, but is not the question I want to address today. The question that concerns me today is whether a true Christian should allow his love of his guns to interfere or compete with his love for God, or his love for his fellow man.

The second of the 10 Commandments is that "You shall not makes for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth." (Exodus 20:4-5)

The principle that we should not be attached to physical objects or other worldly things also appears frequently in the teachings of Jesus. Consider these few examples from the "Sermon on the Mount" as reported in the gospel of Matthew: "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth" (6:19), "You cannot serve God and wealth" (6:24), and "do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear" (6:25). And also consider Jesus's advice to the young man in Matt. 19:16-22, which was that he should "sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven." The young man "went away grieving, for he had many possessions."

I believe that God wants us to enjoy our lives, and enjoy the physical world, including our possessions. But our possessions must be tools to an end, and not an end in themselves. We use a tool as long as it serves us, and lay it aside when it does not. Our possessions should be tools we use to enjoy our lives, but should not control our lives.

So someone who enjoys wordworking can take some pleasure in owning good woodworking tools, and someone who enjoys target shooting can take some pleasure in owning a good gun. But only some pleasure. If we take too much pleasure from our tools and cannot put them aside, or if we worry about our tools, then we are addicted to the tools or are worshipping the tools.

Even if we are not commanded to shun tools of violence, we are nevertheless commanded to be indifferent to them, and to treat them as any other tool. We should not celebrate a "bring your gun to church day" any more than we should celebrate a "bring your chisel to church day" or even a "bring your iPod to church day."

But Pastor Pagano is not indifferent to guns, but (according to the Times) "passionate." He responds to critics of guns in churches with passion, describing the issue as "a crusade."

And so my concern about Pastor Pagano is not that he owns guns or enjoys shooting guns, but that he loves his guns, and that his love for his guns is distracting him from more important matters of faith. My concern is not about pacifism, but idolatry.

A Prayer for Friends Hospice

This prayer will need some explaining.

I serve on the board of trustees of Friends Hospice, which is a nonprofit Quaker organization that works to ensure that all peoples in Philadelphia have access to high quality, compassionate care at the end of life, regardless of ability to pay. We offer spiritually grounded, state of the art medical care and counseling to all in the Philadelphia area who are facing serious illnesses, including undocumented residents, people with disabilities, the homeless, and people with little or no family support.

I also believe in the power of intercessory prayer, because I believe that the universe will give you what you want if you clearly state and make known what you want. As Jesus said, "Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks the door will be opened." (NRSV Matt. 7:7-8)

Since the hospice began operations in December 2007, we have provided the quality of care we want to provide, but we have had difficulty attracting the right number of hospice participants (patients), and so our staff and our resources are currently under-utilized.

At a recent meeting of the board of trustees, we agreed on what we wanted in new hospice participants, and this is a somewhat modified version of that request:

Spirit, please send to Friends Hospice Project two disenfranchised, reimbursable people at end of life who live in north or west Philadelphia, and who are emotionally available for hospice care. Please let these people be timely new referrals who can accept home-based hospice care, and who have a community of friends and family who are teachable, will be grateful for our care, and are willing to talk to others about us. Please let some of the participants come to us through an appropriate large referral source such as Project Home or Jefferson Hospital, and let us have a balance of challenge and grace in our work as a result of these admissions. Thank you.

By reading this prayer, you will have helped Friends Hospice in its mission. Thank you.

The Christmas Stories

Yes, "stories" plural.

When thinking about Christmas as the traditional celebration of the birth of Jesus (and not a marketing ploy), Christians should remember that two of the four gospels make no mention whatsoever of the birth of Jesus, and the other two gospels tell stories that are not just different, but actually conflicting.

A traditional Christmas celebration will include readings from both Luke and Matthew, and mix them together, but let's take a look at what the Bible actually says.

In the book of Luke, Mary and Joseph start in the town of Nazareth, but then must go to the town of Bethlehem in order to comply with a census supposedly ordered by Caesar Augustus (for which there is no historical evidence whatsoever). There is no room at the inn so Mary gives birth to Jesus in the stable. Shepherds are told of the birth of Jesus by angels and they come to the stable to see the baby Jesus. Mary and Joseph travel to Jerusalem with Jesus, and then eventually return to Nazareth. No mention of any wise men from the east, no star over Bethlehem, no slaughter of male babies, and no trip to Egypt.

In the book of Matthew, the story is quite different. Mary and Joseph seem to be living in Bethelem already (i.e., no census by Caesar Augustus) and Jesus is born in their home. No mention of any stable, manger, or shepherds. Instead, wise men come from the east, follow a rising star to Bethlehem, and offer gifts to Jesus. Then Mary, Joseph, and Jesus flee to Egypt when Herod orders the death of all children in or around Bethlehem that are two years of age or younger, another seemingly noteworthy event for which there is no other historical evidence. After Herod dies, Mary and Joseph return to Israel, but are still afraid to return to Bethlehem in Judea, and instead settle in Nazareth in Galilea, where they have apparently never lived before.

It is also remarkable that the gospels of Luke and Matthew tell these stories once and then never mention them again. Jesus himself never refers to his own birth, and he is never asked about it, which seems strange given the unusual (to say the least) circumstances of his birth. And there is no mention of the birth of Jesus in the book of Acts, any of the letters of Paul, or any other part of the New Testament.

Finally, we have to confront the fact that the authors of both Luke and Matthew wanted Jesus to be born in Bethlehem in order to fulfill a prophecy, but that he should be "from" Nazareth in order to fulfill another prophesy. So it appears that each of the authors constructed a story to explain why Jesus was born in Bethlehem, and they constructed different stories. The authors also had very different goals for their stories, because Matthew describes Jesus as royalty, descended from King David, sought after by wise men from the east, and seen as a threat by King Herod, while Luke describes a lowly birth in a stable noticed only by angels and shepherds.

What are we to make of all this? Two conclusions seem unavoidable.

The first conclusion is that the stories of the birth of Jesus in Matthew and Luke cannot be considered factual. They contradict each other, so they can't both be accurate, and there are too many problems with them to believe that either is historically accurate.

The second conclusion is that the stories of the birth of Jesus are not very important to Christianity as a faith, and so whether you want to believe or disbelieve the stories is also not very important. You can be a "good Christian" (whatever that might mean) whether you choose to believe the story in Luke, or the story in Matthew, both of them, or neither of them.

The corollary to these conclusions is that, once we have stripped the stories of any historical or theological significance, we can have fun with them. We can transform the wise men of the Bible into three kings, and we can make up names for them, such as Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. We can construct scenes in which the three kings from Matthew are mixed in with the shepherds and manger from Luke. We can write songs about lame shepherds (Amahl) and little drummer boys.

All good fun. And isn't that what Christmas is all about?