As both a lawyer (at least by training) and a Christian with a love of theology (and a former preacher), I find the story of Tookie Williams fascinating. It seems a kind of case study in Christian realism -- i.e., it asks whether we believe in the redemption we claim to proclaim or not. This, too, is the viw of David Batstone of the Sojourners Fellowship (and Sojourners magazine). In the Sojourners e-mail that I received today was a column by David that sets out the issues quite well, and I commend it to your consideration.

One point I especially appreciate about his analysis is the implied question whether redemption is only backward-looking or whether it is also forward-looking: Are we redeemed only from what has come before or are we also redeemed for.

Here is the column:

Redemption on trial in California
by David Batstone


One man, Stanley "Tookie" Williams, faces execution Tuesday, Dec. 13, at San Quentin State Prison in California. With him our belief in human redemption also sits on the gallows, pending a decision in the clemency hearing conducted by Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Williams, a founder of the notorious Crips gang, is charged with the murder of four eople in the Los Angeles area in 1979. At the time of the trial, he proclaimed his innocence, a position he maintains today. A jury convicted him wholly on circumstantial evidence; in other words, no eyewitnesses or incontrovertible material evidence linked him to the murders, according to attorney Verna Wefald’s appeal.

In one of the robberies that led to a murder, an accomplice was given clemency for
pointing his finger at Williams for the murder. Beyond the self-interest involved, the accomplice's reputation as a truth-teller was less than stellar. The prosecution produced a shell casing tied to the murder weapon found at the motel where Williams was staying. But the science that matched the casing to the weapon was speculative and its results have not been revisited in the intervening years, the Los Angeles Times reported.

I revisit the facts of the case because Schwarzenegger's decision to grant Williams clemency will depend more on the possibility of his innocence - or at least the uncertainty of his guilt - than it will turn on the contribution that Williams has made to society over the last two decades.That's tragic, because Williams has become a major figure in the gang peace movement. He has co-authored 10 books from Death Row.

The message is clear: Violence is never a solution. He urges young gang kids to get out before it destroys them and the lives of their family members. That's a powerful message from one of the founders of the Crips.Williams first made a public plea to hundreds of gang members who gathered at a Los Angeles hotel in 1993 for a summit called Hands Across Watts. He did not hide his early role in the Crips, but on a prerecorded videotape filmed for the summit told the young gang members that he lamented his history. Recounting this first public event to the San Francisco Chronicle, Williams said, "I told them I never thought I could change my life, that I thought I would be a Crip forever. But I developed common sense, wisdom and nowledge. I changed."

Williams has gone on to build on this witness. In his 1998 prison autobiography Life in Prison, he directed young people to seek an alternative life beyond violence. Prison, he stressed, was no place to spend a life. Two years later he launched the Internet Project for Street Peace. His memoir, Blue Rage, Black Redemption, and the movie, Redemption, came out in 2004.Williams has a bevy of supporters calling for his
clemency. They argue that he has changed thousands of young people's lives, and if allowed to live will continue to be a force for good. His street credibility with gang kids is high, so he can reach them in a way that a teacher or social
worker cannot.

In the eyes of the criminal justice system, a redeemed criminal is simply another criminal. I recall my first visit to a federal prison back in seminary when starting a prison chaplain residency. The warden of the prison came to the orientation I shared with other interns. His message was clear to us: "I want you to remember that the prison system today is not about reforming criminals. We are here to punish them."Redemption, in other words, has no place in our justice system. We do not offer a path for conversion. Once marked for condemnation, an offender's destiny is fixed.Elsewhere in the world, four Christian Peacemaker Teams members are marked for execution by a radical terrorist group in Iraq. The circumstances are dramatically different, so I hesitate to make the connection. We are appalled by the blind ideology that drives the terrorists and leads them to cheapen the value of human life. In this ideology, the individual is a tool for political expediency.Don't we want to offer our citizens more in a democracy?

From 12/7/05 SojournersMail.

Permission to reprint is inferred from the invitation, which appeared at the end of the column, to share the article with friends.

Think on it.

Books Note (In time for holiday buying?)

I once (part-)owned and ran a bookstore. It may have been the most fun I have had in my working life. (I was lucky: My enterprise was capitalized by a corporation, so that I only needed to keep the thing running and do the ordering and such. For that I was paid both a salary and a piece of the profits.) It fed my addiction for books -- but it enabled it at a much lower cost than if I didn't enjoy discounts!

I still like to keep up on publishing (I lament the state of consolidation of the book trade -- both publishers and retail outlets). And I really appreciate it when someone (scholars, book lovers, or otherwise) takes the trouble to write a kind of synthetic essay, comparing and contrasting works of literature around an certain theme or issue.

John Utz, of the Duke Divinity School, has done such a service with respect to the issue of terrorism in literature. And it's a really helpful guide. I encourage you to read it here.

Terrorism, as if we all don't know, is the issue in the lives of USAmericans (that, and the breakup of Jennifer Anniston and Brad Pitt -- if you believe the front page of my local newspaper). And it has theological ramifications galore. Easy to identify is how "Islamist fundamentalists" identify what we consider "terrorist acts" with devotion to Allah. But slower to come to mind is the role of terror in our own Christian history. To cite only a couple of scenes from the Bible: We shall soon celebrate the Feast of the Holy Innocents. The civil authority slaughters children in order to try to wipe out a "pretender" to the throne. An undeniable act of terrorism that -- if state-sponsored (which, by some lights, renders it non-terrorism). But keep in mind that that act is a kind of mirror image of The Lord's wiping out innocent Egyptian baby first-borns -- all in order to convince Pharaoh to "let my people go." Is it terrorism if the Creator of All is the perpetrator?

One important point that Utz makes in his essay is that terror is in the eye of the beholder. (The same might be said of torture: Witness the casuistry in the current USAmerican Administration's attempts to say that if we do it, it's not torture; but if it's done to "our boys" -- when will they realize that women are warriors, too? -- then it is.) And fiction can be a good way of coming to understand what that means. I don't urge trying to sympathize or empathize with terrorists. But it seems to me that a good way of reducing the efficacy of programs to enlist terrorists -- whether international or intranational -- is to understand the "terror" dynamic.

I am tempted to read Doris Lessing this Christmas.

"No Comment" for Advent II

I'll try to highlight on occasion a comment or article that speaks for itself -- and then go on to offer a couple of comments. Here's this week's, from the Chicago Tribune.

Willow Creek Community "Church" (the archetype of the seeker-friendly megachurch) has cancelled services for December 25 -- get this -- because it's Christmas. Better, say the pastors, that the people should be at home with their families. (In their defense, they do make Christmas program tickets available -- 6 to a household -- for their various programs between 20 and 24 December.) See here.

For a liturgically oriented Lutheran, which I am, this makes absolutely no sense -- except as an expression of the complete surrender of the traditions of the Christian Church to the wishes of culture. I used to chide, but have now foresworn doing so, my friends at Mount Olivet (not to be confused with my own Mount Olive) in Minneapolis, where Christmas Eve services run on the hour from about 3 p.m through 11 p.m. (Of course, they only have 2 services on Christmas Day -- another reflection of the culture within we Minneapolitan Christians live, perhaps? Mount Olive will worship at one liturgy on Christmas and "New Year's," too.)

But none of that compares to giving over entirely to a wider culture that views this major Christian festival as a "time for family"? It's a celebration of the Incarnation of God, for heaven's sake; how is that a "family-oriented" event? And if it is family-oriented, why does it draw one Christian family away from another?

What kind of theology so atomizes the life of faith that fellowship with the Body of Christ is considered a distraction?

OK: No comment.

Anne Rice, Author: Vampires to Jesus

I can't claim to be a great Anne Rice fan. I have, however, read some of her books --even, I confess, one of the so-called pornographic novels she wrote ( it wasn't very good. Come on, someone says to a bookaholic, "Have you read that Anne Rice, the great vampire-books author, has written porn?" And you want him to say, "No, and I'm not going to read it"?) I've also seen her former home in New Orleans (she moved before the hurricanes; it was majestic) and watched crowds awed by stories of the time she was taken to a book signing in a horse-drawn hearse, lying in a glass coffin dressed as a bride. She's very popular.

Well now: She has turned her sights from vampires to a new type of immortal -- Jesus. Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt is apparently a first-person narrated novel about Jesus at the age of 7. Even more interesting is that the book is a reflection of a very intentional return, on Ms. Rice's part, to communion in the Church.

I tend to be cautious about prodigal son/daughter stories, but I found myself touched by Ms. Rice's story -- as reflected in this interview article published by Christianity Today: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2005/012/11.50.html

She sounds very sincere to me -- and she has not abandoned her sense of complexity or wonder. (Is it not, for example, too appropriate that her son is gay and that she is a sincere Catholic who advocates for the Church's acceptance of gayness? After all, half my gay friends read the Vampire novels as gay stories -- and Interview with a Vampire is a gay classic, isn't it? The movie ends with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise entwined in some sort of vampirish Tantric act.)

I don't know: I may have to read the new book -- and while I'm at it, go back to some of the vampire books. I think she is generally a good author. And since I judge authors partially on their personal characters, and since Ms. Rice's character seems pretty strong, I am inclined to give her another crack.

Request for Advent Verses

This is a day late (for which I apologize), but I now officially ask for submissions of favorite Advent verses or short texts. In the "Comments," please feel free to add something that guides you through the season.

A very blessed Advent to you.

Dwight

Preparation for Advent

We are on the cusp of Advent -- my favorite season of the Church's year. For my daily reflectioin, I will be dusting off my copy of Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas compiled by the Bruderhof community and now published by Orbis (because the Bruderhof shut down their hard-print business -- something I lament). Amazon has it for under $11.

I'm opening up myself up here, I know, but I invite you to share with the Versus Populum community a favorite or challenging or touching Advent verse (or paragraph or two).

On the first Monday of Advent, I'll post a short message offering space for contributions. Feel free to add your favorite to the Comments space. (I don't encourage more than a couple of paragraphs -- unless it happens to be one of my favorite thinkers . Since the post will remain open, you need not post that day: I surely hope you will discover something amazing during the season. Feel free to add to the wealth throughout the season.

You have been notified, "noticed" (in legal jargon), and warned.

A Church-State Case Study

There is a cool controversy cooking over the boundaries of political action by pastors and congregations in their capacities as pastors and congregations.

Here's the story as reported by the LA Times last week. Apparently, just before the 2004 election (on Reformation Day, as it turned out -- though Episcopalian haven't received that feast into their calendars), a retired rector of All Saints Church in LA preached a sermon in which he imagined that Jesus debated with George Bush and John Kerry. The rector several times told the parishioners that he was not telling them how to vote, but he came down squarely against the Vietnam, Gulf I, and Gulf II wars. Following a complaint, the IRS has issued a warning that the tax exempt status of the parish is in danger because of its partisan activities.

Here's a blog post from Hugo (admittedly partisan in the last election) who actually heard the sermon. He follows up here. (Thanks to Camassia for bringing this to my attention through her own blog -- and for raising my hackles.)

The issue of church life and politics is at the heart of what I try to think about through this blog. I do not support pastors' preaching their partisan politics -- either from the pulpit or from their lapels. Even I, as difficult as this is to admit, must acknowledge that on most -- i.e., the vast majority -- of political issues, people of faith may disagree. (It's a sign, often, that the devil is alive and well that some of my friends don't agree with my clearly correct positions. But what can I say?) Endorsements of specific candidates or causes is not something the Church may do because it invariably means endorsing something that the Gospel stands against. That's because any candidate or cause has made compromises to get where he or she or it is. So while Al Franken might make a better senator than Norm Coleman, no church may say so because Al Franken also supports many things that faithful Christians ought to oppose (e.g., easy -- indeed, almost unthinking -- of abortion "rights").

The Gospel doesn't compromise: It is not Gospel to say "Let's compromise on the matter of sin. You're not so bad; you just need a little boost to be perfect and saved." Neither is it appropriate for the Body of Christ to encourage something less than faithfulness to the Will of God. Put another way, it is not the Church's business to adopt the agenda of anyone or anything other than God.

Of course, the Gospel compels the faithful into the streets and institutions of the world. We are called and commanded and empowered to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and visit the lonely and relief the oppressed and ... and ... and ... . Sometimes we may be called individually to give Gospel care to someone. With respect to the big issues of the day -- e.g., relieving the need for food or shelter or healthcare -- group (read: political) action is necessary. And that group action is not dictated (at least usually) from any passage of scripture. Prudential analysis takes into account other considerations than the Gospel mandate to do something: Economists, sociologists, nurses -- the disciplines may and should reasonably be employed to inform believers as they work our (i.e., live out) their salvation with fear and trembling.

The Church has no special expertise to set (or promote) the political agenda. But, of course, that does not mean that her voice should be denied access to the "public square." There is every reason for the Church -- by means of her members' acting individually and collectively and through missives from her bishops -- to petition the governmental structures for actions that will shape the society more along the lines that comport with the Will of God, who is, after Lord of all.

It's an art, more than science, to draw the line. I remember my amusement when Lutherans on a listserv of my acquaintance were excoriating +Mark Hanson for a letter to President Bush criticizing his proposed budget: "Where does Jesus show that he has an economics?" they asked. Well, I personally think that Jesus does indeed have an economics -- and it isn't capitalism. But their point was that Jesus was not speaking to governments, but to individuals. But I've suggested my take on that point above. But what is politicking and what is proclamation? Why does the IRS seem unconcerned about the -- shall we say -- right-leaning (if lying flat on the ground is leaning) congregations of certain note that notoriously promote right-leaning Republicans by name and party? And what about all those campaign appearances during worship services? Why has the IRS chosen this congregation for singular treatment?

I am convinced that the current US Administration has no shame and is not above using for purely partisan reasons the various agencies of government which have the authority to wreak havoc on people and institutions. (And, yes, that is a partisan opinion -- although I am not a member of the Democratic Party or even a hanger-thereon. But I think the evidence bears that out -- or will in a couple decades when the various public media get out from under the self-imposed censorship that gives the Administration a free or, at least, inexpensive ride. I think this is a purely partisan move against All Saints congregation, and I lament it.

But, by the same token, I see coming out of the situation the opportunity for renewed attention to the role of church in society. Is Church the guarantor of the society in which it dwells? (I think that theory is alive and well in many Anglican and Eastern branches.) Is the Church "a player" in the political drama? (That is certainly the Falwell-Robertson-Reed-et.al. understanding.) Ought it to be a "player" or a critic or above the fray? Ought Christians concern themselves only with individual action or perhaps even with withdrawal from the public "arena" all together?

Preachers, how do you proclaim the gospel in such a way as to unfold its political meaning (for to avoid that is to render the Gospel pretty much nugatory) without thereby falling into partisan traps? (It is certainly possible -- and I don't encourage any preacher deliberately to avoid any mention of partisan issues. That's a sort of gnostic impulse, in my opinion.)

Are there ways for congregations to teach their people "how" to vote without telling them "for whom" to vote? (I'd sign up for such an adult forum, for sure.)

You have a chance to join in support of All Saints by signing a statement that both raises concern about the IRS pressure on All Saints and rejects efforts to change the law of the land to allow express partisan activity by congregations and pastors. (There is apparently an effort afoot in Congress to allow political endorsements and activity by pastors and congregations. And the law would, so says the statement, allow parties to funnel money to congregations in exchange for political campaigning. (Can you imagine what that would do to the unity of the Body of Christ?) Check it out here. Perhaps needless to say, I signed. (It couldn't hurt, could it?)

Reading Lists

Clint, over at Lutheran Confessions, has been boasting about the high quality of his reading. I say "boasting" as a joke and "high quality" because he cites to a couple of my favorite authors: Wendell Berry is hard to beat and Louise Erdrich has been one of my "pet authors" for almost as long as she has been publishing. (She's originally from North Dakota, so I, as a former North Dakotan, began reading her out of a sense of chauvinistic duty. I stayed because she draws fascinating characters.)

I have followed up on Clint's lists of good authors by suggesting for his enjoyment Robertson Davies and Reynolds Price.

Now I invite you into the conversation. How about sharing the name of a splendid author on your shelves or one or two novels that you return to, or would return to, to read again.

To put myself on the line: Wendell Berry's Jayber Crow is one of the most touching novels I have read. (It is also one of the best meditations on the nature of fidelity that I can imagine.) (Nelle) Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird has been on my re-read list since I was in 6th grade (which I think is about 12 years after it was written, and which caused my mother to question the propriety of the book for a sixth grader: Who knew Mother read high-class literature?) Incidentally, I hope the book gets a boost in sales as a result of its treatment in the movie Capote. Harper Lee, of course, accompanied her nearly life-long friend Truman Capote to Kansas to begin to gather material that became the book In Cold Blood. It was while doing that that Lippincott accepted the book for publication and that Paramount (I think) made the movie (one of the all-time greats, too). I also recommend Wallace Stegner's Crossing to Safety and almost anything by Robertson Davies.

So here's a list to which you should add some:

Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow
Robertson Davies, Rebel Angels
Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
Louise Erdrich, The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse
Wallace Stegner, Crossing to Safety
Reynolds Price, A Promise of Rest
Gail Godwin, Father Melancholy's Daughter (for the liturgically inspired: read the sequel, Evensong, though it's not as good)

Now, friends, it's your turn. Share some ideas. I don't care if you prefer "the Classics" (you'll notice a conspicuous absence of such from my list -- although certainly Mockingbird might arguably be included -- even though I am a subscriber to the Library of America and have a roomful of the slipcased, acid-free papered, fabric-bookmarked volumes) or "cyberpunk" (a passion, apparently, of Clint's) or romance or science fiction (does anyone want to comment on The Sparrow and Children of God?). Share the wisdom.

Because Advent is not so far away, do you have any suggestions for a good read during Advent?

Sorry to steal your idea, Clint, but thanks for the idea.


Dwight

A Word from Sojourners

I try to limit "partisan" political discussion on this blog. Yesterday, I dumped about 4 pages on the subject of this post. But this call to action from Jim Wallis of the Sojourners Fellowship is good, accurate, and faithful. And so, even though I'm sure it will be perceived as partisan by those who don't read this blog, I offer it here:

The death of compassionate conservatism
by Jim Wallis

Last week, I spoke with other religious leaders at a press conference in the U.S. Capitol, urging the House of Representatives to oppose cuts in social services in their budget bill. When it was over, we walked to the rotunda to offer a prayer for our nation and its leaders, that they would do the right thing for people in poverty. Suddenly, we were face to face with Speaker Dennis Hastert (R-Ill.) and took the opportunity to deliver our message directly to him. He listened politely, but offered little response.

The House is scheduled to begin debate tomorrow on its budget bill, which includes $54 billion in cuts. On the table are cuts of $9.5 billion in Medicaid - by requiring co-pays for pregnant women and children for the first time; $8 billion in foster care, child support enforcement, and aid to the disabled; and $844 million in the Food Stamps Program, which would prevent 300,000 people from receiving food stamps. Forty thousand children would be cut from reduced-price school lunches. Lawmakers intend to follow these with a further cut of $70 billion in taxes that will primarily benefit the top 3% of taxpayers. The message from Congress is that in
response to Hurricane Katrina, we're going to cut services for the poor, cut taxes for the rich, and increase deficits for our children and grandchildren. These plans for deep cuts to social supports, paid for by tax cuts for the wealthiest, are contrary to the national priorities we need to protect our most vulnerable citizens. We need strong moral leadership in Congress, especially during this time of war, record deficits, rising poverty and hunger, and natural disasters. Cutting food stamps and health care that meet the basic needs of poor families is an outrage. Cutting social services to pay for further tax cuts for the rich is a moral travesty that violates biblical priorities. The House leadership seems to be saying they literally want to take food from the mouths of children to make rich people richer. If this ideology and politics of rich over poor prevails and our leaders fail to govern from a set of moral values, then the religious community must conclude that compassionate conservatism is dead.

As this battle for the budget unfolds, I am calling on members of Congress, some of whom make much out of their faith, to start Bible studies before they cast votes to cut services that will further harm the weakest in our nation. They should focus on the gospel imperative - what Jesus tells us about our obligations to the "least of these." Some of them have heard the slogan "What would Jesus do?" Now they should ask, "What would Jesus cut?" Budgets are moral documents, and they reflect our national priorities and values. In the name of social conscience, fiscal esponsibility, equal opportunity, protecting our communities, and the very idea of a common good, the upcoming budget votes will be closely watched by people of faith. Call your member of Congress. Tell him or her to show political will in standing up for the least of these, as Jesus reminds us.

Two kingdom theology (a popular Lutheran theme) or not, this is a serious -- and sad -- time for Christian USAmericans. Trying to pay for (at least) two wars plus humanitarian relief for victims in this country (and in some cases that relief goes for beachhomes for very rich people, let's not forget) and in other lands plus significant tax cuts for the very few very rich people in this country -- regardless of the rightness or wrongheadedness of those programs -- ought not to be done at the expense of those members of our society most in need of support and services and least able to secure them. One can hear Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and other prophets -- not to mention Our Lord Himself -- virtually bleating their dismay and condemnation on a society that "sell[s] the rightous for silver, and the needy for a pair of [Guccie] sandals -- [that] trample[s] the head of the poor into the dust of the earth, and push[es] the afflicted out of the way." (Amos 2:6f.)

I have been rebuked in the past for suggesting that the prophets' calling on the nation to reform can be translated to calls for our nation to reform. (We are not, after, the "chosen nation" -- regardless of our claims to the contrary.) And I have been told that Jesus' call to care for those in need is a call to individual charity, not government programs.

I consider such notions hooey: Christians are called, as a facet of our discipleship, to work for the reform of government programs along the lines of the eschaton. It is precisely greed, dishonesty, trickery, and all the other political virtues that are called vices by Our Lord. And unless we are part of the process of correcting them, then we share the blame and threat for supporting them. (I always enjoyed the line of -- was it Huey Newton? -- "If you ain't part of the solution, you're part of the problem." I think there is some Christian truth there.)

In any event, I hope you will give Jim Wallis' letter some thought and be moved to contact your US Congress person and US Senator.

And while you're at it, check out this (rather bland) letter from the ELCA bishops (all of them) here.

Language-Police Complaint 1

I don't claim to be the world's expert on grammar, but I take it very seriously -- and one of my great delights is to discover some particularly well-phrased idea. On the other hand, I am a critical sort (a great surprise to my friends, no doubt). So given the state of language in the good old USA, I am often fuming, out-loud correcting usage by newscasters, or simply rolling my eyes at some inanity.

Now come Border's and Barnes & Noble, the book companies, which invite me to "pre-order" some books and CDs that will be released over the next few weeks. And I ask you: What on earth is a pre-order? If I enter the required data and click on "send", have I not placed an order -- not a pre-order? Is not "pre-ordering" the stuff I do before I order -- e.g., opening the e-mail announcement, musing on whether I can live without the newest teenybopper CD, checking bank balances, and the like?

Let me display my true old-curmudgeonly side: Are we doomed to the complete breakdown of language, all under the specious rationale that "if you know what I mean, it doesn't matter how I say or spell it"? My stars and garters! Language is the measure of a culture. (Rome began to crumble when it forgot Greek.)

As Christians, we have a special stake in this issue: We are, after all, people of the Word -- the word spoken, the word made visible in sacraments, and the Word made flesh. It is incumbent on us to care for language with the same zeal some of us display toward the "environment" (another loosey-goosey term) or "poverty" or abortion issues.

And we Lutherans (others may look at this without guilt) should be especially mindful of how we use language. We are the tradition that, for better or worse, has built a theological edifice on the "proper distinction between law and gospel." "Law" and "Gospel" are ways of talking (and enacting words -- and precision in grammar is key.

Fn: Ranting on this topic seemed a better idea than commenting on the general quality of driving in Minnesota (which is of very real concern this morning!).

"Acts" in the Liturgical "Play"

Since I discovered "liturgy" at Gettysburg Sem (thanks in major part to my late mentor, Leigh Jordahl, of blessed memory), I have been bemused by the efforts to define the liturgical action -- by which I mean the full eucharistic liturgy, or "mass" -- around a certain number of "actions." There seems to be a real need to "organize" what happens in the liturgy into (perhaps interrelated, but) separate scenes or acts: Perhaps hope springs eternal that we can interpose intermissions into the mass, I don't know.

In my training, Dom Gregory Dix, the great British monk who wrote The Shape of the Liturgy (which at least used to be the single-source reference that all people serious about liturgy had read and stored on their shelves -- even seminarians like me, who had to shell out it seemed like a thousand dollars to get a new copy of the British-published book) set the stage (to continue the metaphor): He defined the liturgical action around the institution narrative of the eucharist -- viz., Our Lord took (bread/wine), gave thanks/blessed (it), broke it, and gave it to his disciples.

More recently, we have sought to structure the liturgy around another great four -- gathering, listening (to God's Word), communing, and leaving (for service to the world). I think that this arrangement rather trivializes the matter by being so painfully obvious. Of course, we must gather -- and I grant that such is a liturgical action. (My liturgical guru, Fr. Alexander Schmemann, of most revered memory, convinced me that the first act of worship on Sunday is getting out of bed as preparation for going to mass.) But gathering is a rather pedestrian phenomenon when set side-by-side with communing, isn't it? And hearing God's word and communing are not actually separate experiences -- no matter how much Lutheran congregations think they can do one (especially the "Liturgy of the Word") without the other (the so-called "Liturgy of the Meal").

Now comes to my attention this meditation on the mass by a pious Roman Catholic woman in Milwaukee (a beloved town in my life): I don't know why exactly, but I'm quite taken with it. And I think it would be a helpful model by which congregations could develop a resource for inquirers, catechumens, and others who wonder what we're doing when we "worship."

The author identifies six stages -- or movements -- to the mass, which I think is a more reasonable number, though I wonder if we can't somehow get seven or eight to make it more biblical. And she is rather heavy on the priest/bishop language -- which will not be all that familiar to protestants. And I can hear Lutherans screaming protest about all the attention to the offering/collection. (The ur-Lutheran Oliver Olson, with whom I have discussed liturgy to the satisfaction of neither of us, will have a stroke over this.) But I think such complaint betrays a lack of perspective on history and liturgy -- or an oversensitivity to Lutheran formulae. And I'm not sure about distinguishing praying the Great Thanksgiving from the communion is right: I'd prefer attention to the intercessions (which get short -- virtually no -- schrift here). (Of course, while the Roman tradition does have a separate section of the mass for intercessions -- prayers of the people -- it also includes them in the Great Thanksgiving. So maybe that's the issue for the author.) But I did call this a model, not a reprint, eh?

The "shape" of the liturgy is important, but for me the greater issue is the integrity of the mass: It's one action, with many parts -- sort of like Shakespeare's "seven ages of man" which highlight the developmental stages of human growth, but place them in the context of the integrity of the one person's life.

I think this meditation helps balance things nicely. When I retire, maybe I'll try to write my own.

Consumerism conference

Thank you to Brother Rob for drawing my attention to this: There is a conference, scheduled for April of next year, that will deal with a Christian understanding of and response to consumerism. Check out the website: http://www.consumer-culture.org/. The conference will be in Minneapolis, so it's another golden opportunity for those of us who occasionally exchange insights to meet face-to-face and trade wisdom over cups of Starbucks or glasses of Summit (a local brewer of some note).

I know the work of Rodney Clapp and Ron Sider, who are two of the main presenters. They are terrific writers (I can't speak for their speaking), and they'll present interesting stuff, I bet.

I've already put it on my calendar (at $85, I'm registering early), even though it comes but a month before the annual conference of the Center for Catholic and Evangelical Theology (about which you may expect to hear/see more when the brochure is finalized).

I hope this excerpt from the abstract of the conference sparks your interest:

Consumerism is the driving force in our society—a spirit of our age. It is
enmeshed within the fabric of our society. There are many critics to
consumerism—those who are rightly concerned about the destructiveness of
consumerism when it comes to economic justice or environmental issues. However,
consumerism also reaches deep into the heart of American spirituality.
Consumerism shapes the way we relate to each other, to our society, and to our
God. Christians need to intentionally and carefully navigate our consumer
culture, responding to its dangerous complexities with a deepening awareness of
its promises and perils. The Conference on Christianity and the Consumer Culture
will be both informative, fostering a deeper understanding of consumerism and
its role within our society, as well as formative, providing strategies for
faithful living in light of the promises and perils inherent to our consumer
culture.

95 Theses for a New Day

LutheranChik has issued a challenge to develop 95 theses for the reformation of the Church in our time. She proposes 6 and invites 89 more. Now's your time and here's your place, you Martin Luther wannabees.

Animals and Sick People

Last night, we had a good meeting of my congregation's worship committee. In reviewing the past month's activity, it struck some as surprising, unfortunate, and strange that while we had 50 people bring pets to a St. Francis-inspired blessing of animals (1 evening service which took place in such a downpour that only the densest person would not have thought of Noah and the ark), we had only a total of 15 people come to a St. Luke's Day services of healing (over a noon and an evening service on a very nice day).

I believe that part of the reason so few people came is that, like the rest of society, many of us Christians are solipsistic: We are, as Luther said, homo incurvatus in se (i.e., a people turned in or curved in on ourselves). If something doesn't affect or involve me, it's not important or it doesn't exist. So unless hurricane Wilma is ravaging US soil, it's not important for the newscasts to say much about it. And so unless I'm ill, I don't see the point in St. Luke's observances. (Not incidentally, that merges wonderfully with the individualistic, pietistic brand of theology rampant in most Christian traditions now: Salvation has been reduced to my own eternal fire insurance policy, church life is a voluntary-organization thing, and morality becomes a matter of my own conscience and desires.)

This self-absorption gets mixed up in Minnesota with good Midwestern stoicism: I will battle on by myself without whining or seeking help. There's no honor in weakness or in relying on someone else.

Of course, as is evidenced by the fact that Mount Olive's bulletin lists almost fifty people for whom prayers for healing are requested, we stoics are not averse or afraid to offer help. Like most Midwesterners, we are mostly generous (although I think that is changing, too, to reflect a society gone mad with greed and success) and willing to help. And for the most part, I don't think we devalue those whom we help (either in prayer or practice): That's a delicious irony of the Midwestern psyche. (And it may be true of other regions of the world; I'm just not qualified to speak about others.)

Now, I cannot claim to great affection for the blessing of animals -- although I don't know that I feel any distaste for them, either. (What with all the to-do over blessing same-sex relationships, I think it odd to have no reservations about blessing animals -- whatever that might mean -- while fighting over the blessing of people. I just throw that out for your amusement.) On the other hand, my daughter Erika was really gung-ho about it this year, because we now possess -- or rather, are possessed by -- a really cute and lovable Havanese puppy, and this would be Krissie's first blessing. So Erika not only took our dog, but she corralled two friends to bring their new pets for the blessing, too. (There's something here about evangelizing, but I prefer not to think it through. And, no, my friend who shall remain nameless for your own protection: The animals were not baptized, even though they were "asperged." Warren raises an interesting query about the use of asperges in the rite, when asperges is normally associated with remembrance of Baptism. How does that all fit together?)

I fear that the blessing of animals -- read: pets -- rather trivializes Francis' witness: I think he might be put off by the effete treatment many of our pets get, at the same time as people are living in cardboard boxes and going without food. And Francis' respect and affection for animals was inextricably tied up with his celebration of the manifold graces of God to be found, not just in living creatures, but in the natural cycles, the heavenly spheres -- in short, in all that exists (whether it has life and breath or not).

Thus, it would seem to me to be a better tribute to St. Francis if the Church were to devote more attention to catechizing the brothers and sisters so that they are prepared to see the relevance (and even urgency) of and to participate in the multitude of services by which we celebrate the world God has given into our care and for our enjoyment. Rogation services, saints' days, feasts and festivals -- these are all important to the life of faith.

But, even giving our congregations the benefit of the doubt with respect to self-obsession, I think it's fair to convict the church generally (and worship and education departments in denominational bodies and in congregations) of dropping the ball on training the minds and souls of believers to full expression of the life of faith. And with the entry into the church of innumerable people who have no background in the church, it is terribly important to catechize believers -- i.e., not just to train their brains (i.e., educating them in the theology and history of the church) but to train their lives of worship, too. (That was, after all, the early church's model and practice, wasn't it?)

So how can the church do this? How do we help all our members make the
"connections" among the various things the church does? Obviously, preaching is
a key way; but so is plain old-fashioned education: Talk to children about how
we plant gardens and pray God's blessings on them -- and why. Discuss with adults
how praising God for the ministries of pets is related to praying for healing
for people who need it (even if I don't think I do) and how the whole enterprise
reveals my own need for healing in ways I didn't see before.

I used to teach confirmands that when Luther asks, in the Small Catechism, "What does this mean?", he is asking, "How does this connect? How does it connect with other parts of the creed, Our Father, Ten Commandments, church theology? How does it
connect with Jesus and the Church? How does it connect with your life?"

I think that Mount Olive's experience with Francis and Luke days highlights disconnections. And though we are a relatively sophisticated congregation, "even we" have difficulty drawing the connections and putting them into operation. I think that mandates another program for the church. At a time when the ELCA is drafting a "successor" to the Lutheran Book of Worship, I wonder whether that effort is a little like (to quote from other contexts my favorite teacher, Robert Jenson) "rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic." Unless we (re-)catechize Christians into the liturgical expression of the faith, all the worship books in the world, with all the fanciest technology available, will be just so much waste of paper and power.

On the other hand, this may be a way of carrying on the vital ministry of the "liturgical renewal" movement that has served the church well for the last decades. We have learned well that liturgy is a vital component in the growth in grace, but we often forget that our growth in and into liturgical life can be enhanced by educators, poets, and prophets. I have urged our congregation to get with it and begin to realize that to be the Church is to be the worshipping Church.

"Renewing Worship": What's that all about?

In recent e-mails and in a couple of suggestions to this blog, I have been encouraged to comment on the the ELCA’s project, called “renewing worship,” under which banner some souls hope to publish a new “worship resource” – which now apparently means a new hymnal and liturgical rites book, together with downloadable “online” resources. I hope that non-Lutherans won’t be offended that I’m taking on such a parochial project. (But really: is it parochial? Is there anything more central to Lutheranism and its relationship to society than the way it worships?) It seems a little off the path of a blog devoted to the intersection of “faith” and “life.” But liturgy is at the heart of all my thinking, and I have been thinking about this issue for a long time and fulminating to anyone who will listen about the wrongheadedness of the ELCA’s project. So I take another personal privilege and risk some kind of a critique.

Let me say that I am not completely informed about what product the renewing worship process will produce. As I understand matters, the ELCA Churchwide Assembly (the Disneyworld Assemble, I am wont to call it) authorized the production of a worship book and it placed responsibility for revising and approving the book in the office of the Presiding Bishop. We are promised that by March 2006 we will have a sampler of the contents of the book an that by mid-October 2006 a new book with supporting materials. But right now, no body seems to know what’s going to be in the book beyond hints provided by the previously published resources and overviews offered at the Renewing Worship website. That makes it difficult to discuss and criticize. That will not deter me however. I find it possible to criticize both process and product based on what is now available.

Since the project began, I have been troubled by the title taken for the effort: “renewing worship.” What does that mean? What is it meant to convey? Does “renewing” refer to process or to product?

Will the committee or task force, by its “own reason and strength,” seek to accomplish something that will renew “worship” within the Church? What, by the committee’s lights, needs to be renewed? Has worship grown flat in the ELCA? (It’s brazen arrogance to call oneself a renewer or a reformer – that title is usually granted, not claimed. But if that is the goal, perhaps the committee might have looked elsewhere than to the Lutheran Book of Worship, the rites and hymns book that has faithfully served the Lutheran Church for over twenty-five years, for a place to propose changes.)

Or is the phrase meant to carry a more consumerist note? Does/did the committee intend to develop “worship resources” that would “renew” the worshiper? That sounds current and mega-churchly, saleable and just vague enough to avoid definite meaning. (I can already see the ads: Joy Lutheran Church offers “Renewing Worship.”) But does such a suggestion – i.e., such an instrumental and utilitarian view of worship – reflect the or a Lutheran understanding of liturgy and worship? Is worship meant primarily to make us feel better? Even if one takes a very conservative position on the supposed distinction between sacrifice and sacrament, I doubt one would come down on the side of such personal fulfillment. (Rebuke and repentance may be good for the soul, but they are not necessarily good for the morale. I have heard complaints that Lent is a “downer” and ought to be downplayed in favor of Easter and joy, e.g.)

The lack of definition in “renewing worship” seems to have characterized the process that was meant to renew worship or to design person-renewing worship. The book now proposed for publication as “Evangelical Lutheran Worship” suffers from the same lack of definition.

The very title of the book is problematic, too: “Evangelical Lutheran Worship.” Is that to suggest that the book is from and for the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (the ELCA?)? Or does it offer a critique or worship in the Lutheran churches in America? Is “evangelical” intended to contrast with “high church”? Or are there non-evangelical Lutherans or is there non-evangelical Lutheran worship? (On that latest point, don’t get me started; I may have to cede the argument.) Is it intended to attract customers from the “Evangelical” wings of Christendom in America?

The process for “renewing worship” has also been problematic. I have checked my perceptions with others, and there is a sense that the “product” of the process has not been tested sufficiently for the Church to have confidence in it. I realize that materials have been available, and I see some evidence that supposed criticisms have been taken, at least partly, to heart. (E.g., I see that scandalously weak pastoral address of the Maundy Thursday liturgy has been corrected – but unfortunately, it has been eliminated altogether so far as I can tell from the materials now available.) Nevertheless, there is a sense among many of us that there simply was not engagement with the wider Church that characterized, for example, the development of the Lutheran Book of Worship. The process seemed, if not secretive, at least arcane.

Compounding that problem is the apparent snubbing of any member of the team that drafted the LBW. That is unfortunate for a variety of reasons. Many of those people still live (and I know enough of them to know that a sizeable sample would have been available). These are people of enormous talent and insight, theological acumen and healthy experience with the Church’s worship. They could have enhanced the quality of the product – and probably improved the process by which it was developed – in ways that we can now only imagine. Furthermore, by consulting them, the “new resource” drafters could have availed themselves of the institutional memory residing in the heads and hearts of those faithful servants.

In a future post, I’ll take on criticism of the final “product” – something that is hard to do because the final product is not yet set. The previously published interim editions of the rites are just that – interim. As I understand matters, the Disneyworld Churchwide Assembly of the ELCA gave authority for the Presiding Bishop’s office to make final revisions and changes and to produce the final product (which I think has to be approved either by the bishops’ conference or the Church Council). The final texts have not yet been approved, even though evaluation materials have been sent out to congregations and a brochure exists trying to sell copies of the book at pre-publication prices. (Talk about offering a pig in a poke).

For now, I offer a few general ideas about this project. First, it seems to me that the chief reason for developing a new “resource” is that the Lutheran Book of Worship is old – twenty-seven years old and counting. I am not sure why age seems a liability in a worship book (age and provenance are often tests of worthiness in the great Tradition of the Church), but apparently that concern intersects with another concern – viz., the need for a product that will find acceptance in congregations that are not keen on the LBW’s relatively sober, serious, and (mostly) European tone and substance. “Formal worship” – which has been inestimably encouraged the the LBW – seems to have fallen from favor; happy, clappy, praisy, band-led, entertainment-style events are the rage.

But for congregations that offset their “traditional” liturgy with a “contemporary” service (in order, I guess, to “give the people what they want” – sort of like bread and circuses), there is not much to draw on (arguably) from the LBW. I mean, Bach just doesn’t swing with an electrified guitar, lousy trapset, and electric non-organ keyboard. So if we want to offer resources to that cohort of the Church, we need new resources, right?

Finally, if one may deduce from drafts of the rites, there is at least one other motive behind the movement: that of reducing the scandal of the faith. I detect in the texts a softening of the realities of grace and death – and as a consequence a moderating of the stunning surprise of resurrection.

I’ll deal with my charge that the drafters are dumbing down the language of faith in my next post. But let me just say how wrong-headed I think it is to serve the other two purposes I’m positing. The folks who favor so-called “contemporary” worship (and some musicians ought to take on that misnomer: I hear no “new music” in contemporary worship) are not going to buy a hardbound worship book from AugsburgFortress. We don’t have nearly enough people working in that field to develop resource materials that praise bands and related arrangements want. Besides, few of them want a book at all; better are projections and downloadable resources. (Customers will be able to download materials from the book Evangelical Lutheran Worship. But on that point, return to my earlier point – that the people most desiring such stuff won’t look to our new worship book.)

Worship books ought not be designed around the findings of consumer polls. Their purpose is to serve God, not to serve current taste. The test of their success is not their sales volume (so I really don’t care whether AugsburgFortress loses its shirt on this deal or not – though I suspect it will), but rather their theological integrity, clarity, Christocentrism, durability, eloquence.

I’m not insensitive to the need for AugsburgFortress to develop new products to improve its bottom line. I used to own a bookstore; I know that new sells. But I question the wisdom of this approach to solving the problem. Why, in essence, a replacement for the LBW? Why not stand-alone resources?

I suspect that the answer will emerge from a look at the proposals already in front of us. And for that, I’ll need another post.

Did Luther say ... ?

Apparently, ‘tis the season to debunk myths about the blessed Martin Luther, I guess. Perhaps that’s because it’s almost time to celebrate the Feast of the Lutheran Secession -- oops, Reformation Sunday. (True Lutherans do not really, I think, celebrate the further division of the Church occasioned by the Reformation -- whether unfortunately necessary or not. But one cannot often discern that truth in Lutheran services on the Sunday before All Saints' Sunday. See my earlier rant.) Or maybe it’s just an accident of my reading.

In any event, even though I’m not particularly fixated on reading Martin Luther or reading about him (aside from the usual interest of one who sees him as a seminal figure in the development of Western culture!), I have run across two articles that deal with the good Doktor’s writing and its misapplication or with the misattribution to Luther of things he didn’t say. And it results in some questions that relate to issues I've babbled about before.

The first is Timothy Wengert’s remarkable analysis of Luther on the “priesthood of all believers” and its application to church life. In this article, Prof. Wengert closely reads Luther with freshly Visined eyes and discovers that all the mythology floating around the Lutheran churches in America (at least) is unfounded. Lutheran doctrine does not hold that any old Lutheran is free to preach, preside at sacraments, and do all the other things that some people say "only pastors should do them." He carefully parses out a couple of distinctions.

The "priesthood of all believers" is a notion that is dearly held by most Lutherans to democratize life in the Church. All Christians are equal -- whether seminary trained or not -- and are capable and have the right to do all the things necessary to connect God to humanity: If that means carrying blankets to an earthquake site, then that is "priestly action." If that means that I decide I make more sense than my pastor, then I can get up and preach. In my view, that has led to a strain of anti-clericalism in the Lutheran Church. It has also nurtured "congregationalism," in which congregations feel authorized to go their own regardless of strictures or requirements of the larger Church body to which they belong. And it has encouraged individualism in thought and practice: I exist before God on my own and I can do my own thing because I, too, am a "priest."

Wengert tries to put such notions to rest. First, he argues that in his discussions of a common "priesthood," Luther attacks the notion that priests and religious are somehow "ontologically" superior to "lay people." Luther understood Rome to hold that "priests" represented a special "order" or "estate" of creation. They were the only intermediaries between God and humanity.
Wengert understands Luther to argue that there is only one "class" (or "estate" or "Staende") before God -- viz., believer. Thus, the priest can claim no special relationship to God that poor lay folk can lay hold of only through him (yes, "priests" were exclusively "hims").

But Luther also had a horror of "lack of good order" -- i.e., of Christians asserting rights and privileges for themselves to the detriment of the congreation or church. All Christians are preachers by virtue of their baptism, true; but it is disruptive -- and counter to the clear proclamation of the Gospel -- if everyone preaches at once. The duties commonly associated with pastoral ministry (and that does not include office administration or budget balancing) do indeed belong to the whole Christian community, and not just to one class. "[But just so] because all of these things are the common property of all Christians, ... no one is allowed to proceed into the midst [of Christians] by his [or her] own authority and seize for himself [or herself] what belongs to all."

Ordination, on his view, then, is the mark that the one being ordained is authorized by the entire community to minister by "teaching, preaching and announcing the Word, baptizing, consecration or administering the Eucharist, absolving or binding sins, praying for others, sacrificing, and judging concerning all doctrines and spirits". This authorization is more, however and therefore, than the "delegation" of some duties to one or two people for the sake of efficiency. The concern for good order is a concern that the entire body be served.

As we know from the Lutheran confessions, the office of the (ordained) ministry is God-established to "secure" faith in the Gospel. It is an essential mark of the Church. (One could draw a pretty good case for the necessity of bishops on the basis of that reading, too.) If the "office" is to serve its function under the Gospel, it must be administered by the whole Church, not just individuals or a clique of a few individuals. Thus, ordination roots completely in the wider Church. One may preach and teach only with the proper authorization, in Lutheran terms, a "proper call." (Note: The call comes, not from God in some inchoate and individualized way, but through the Church, the Body, the community.)

Before I draw my own deductions from this article and show the reason I recommend the article, let me direct you to another place. The Fall 2005 issue of Word & World (the theology journal published at Luther Seminary in Saint Paul) focuses on "Work and Witness." In his editor's introduction to the number, Fred Gaiser demonstrates that two very popular quotes attributed to Luther never passed Luther's lips:

The maid who sweeps her kitchen is doing the will of God just as much as the monk who prays -- not because she may sing a Christian hymn as she sweeps but because God loves clean floors. The Christian shoemaker does his Christian duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.

and

If I believed the world were to end tomorrow, I would still plant a tree today.

Gaiser argues that neither of these quotes even "sounds" like Luther because they sound so modern. The first is notable for its secularity -- with its consumerist picture of God who cares, not for the effect of the work on the life of the worker or those who buy the product, but rather for the quality of the end product. Where is the concern for the welfare of the neighbor that is at the heart of Christian life? The second is not "Lutheran," either, because it suggests a kind of interest in the "moment," in the here-and-now that loses its reference to Christ and his "eschatological ethic." In both cases, Luther's theology is misshapen to the extent that it loses Luther's fundamental claim about "vocation" and "vocations" -- namely, that our vocation (or call) is to serve the neighbor, even as we have been served by Christ.

Service to the neighbor is the key to both of the concerns I raise in this post. Luther was not the ultimate individualist, not the great crusader for personal "rights," not one to focus on the short-term, not the great divider of "secular" from "sacred." Christians live under the cross and, because of that, they do not assert their "rights" to preach and preside over against other brothers and sisters. Instead, they submit to the mind of the Church and accept the ministry of those who are properly identified for pastoral ministry by the Church (whether that be a congregation or a "synod" or the universal Church -- the latest not a possibility since at least 1055). It's the same insight offered in "The Babylonian Captivity of the Church" -- viz., that a Christian is perfectly free and the shape of that freedom is to serve the neighbor. The name of the Christian faith game is service.

Despite corporations' wanting believers to swallow the notion that all God cares about in your trade is getting the work done as well and cheaply as possible, that is not the issue at all in Christians' discovering their vocations (here read: work lives). God's concern is whether his children are being clothed and fed and nurtured. Thus, the appropriate question for a Christian who works is not, are these great-quality shoes (and worth the $5,000 that Prada will charge)? It is rather, am I serving the neighbor by producing such expensive shoes? The answer may be -- as it has in the past been -- that there is certain work that Christians do not undertake to do.

This issue comes to the fore in a couple of relevant cases. First, it highlights the folly of those who argue that they have a "right" to be ordained to serve the Church. There is no such thing as a "right" in the Church. There may be responsibilities, but no rights or claims to justice. (As Jesus' parables often highlighted, there are times that life in the Reign of God doesn't seem fair or right.) Those who assert such nonsense as "rights" and "standing" don't understand the Cross. (To touch on a regular concern here: That is not finally to judge the issue of ordaining non-celibate gays, of course. It is simply to say that the argument for such ordination must be made on other grounds.) It also shows that the current turmoil over "lay" preaching and presiding (which may only be an issue for Lutherans, but seems to be growing larger in our tradition) is lamentably mis-framed. Because ordination is something other than a recognition of a seminary degree, arguments over "lay preaching" really miss the whole point of ordination to preaching. If someone is preaching and presiding on a regular basis, even though not granted the imprimatur of a seminary degree, that person ought to be examined and, if qualified (and I don't mean in Greek irregular verbs), ordained -- for he or she meets the "ordered" test.

(Sorry, my seminarian brothers and sisters, it is not the seminary education that "qualifies" you for ordination, either. There is nothing other than the call of the Church that "qualifies" or equips one for pastoral ministry. And before you trump me with the Holy Spirit, I'll put my cards on the table: The Holy Spirit works through the Church as through means. She can and does work outside the administrative stuctures of the Church, of course. It's just more problematic to identify what is truly her work outside the boundaries of the Church.)

Second, these works (and many more) commend to the Church discussion of how to discern (a good churchly word, eh?) where believers are being called to serve. What are legitimate concerns in deciding on a "life's work"? Are there restrictions on the range of work that Christians may undertake? For example, in the earliest church, as I understand history (see previous blogs), Christians were not allowed to be soldiers or prostitutes. Because of the idolatry involved in (or required by those in) those professions, they were deemed to be out of the bounds of a Christian's choice of (or answer to) vocation. Are there similar options today that are foreclosed to Christians?

With then-Cardinal Ratzinger's suggestion that no war in the modern era may be considered "just" because of the nature of warfare, one must, I think, question whether soldiering and sailoring is still a possibility. How about working as an assassin for the CIA (yeah, I know: it's a little TVish). How about a judge that must, under law, impose death penalties? (See this article
by the editor of First Things, that notorious left-wing rag, for a fascinating denunciation of the death penalty. In First Things of all places!)

It is a blessing, at least for those of us who bear the middle name "Lutheran," that the study of Luther goes on. (I won't get into the discussion of whether Luther's writings trump the Lutheran Confessions -- which would be a fun one to take on.) We discover almost every day that almost from the beginning, Luther has been read through peculiar prisms that bend and twist his words to match the ideologies and cultural concerns of the day. It may be time for us to rethink some of our long-cherished attitudes which we claim to have gotten from Luther.

Refuge

It was once the operative saying: Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel. In looking at the news about the allegations against and the clouds over Bill Frist, Tom DeLay, and Karl Rove, together with the close ties they claim to have with the Religious "Right," I am led to conclude that that should be amended: Relgion is the last refuge of the scoundrel.

I want to close there, but I'm I, so I have to say a little more: This really highlights the distinction Karl Barth drew between religion and faith. (Does anyone dispute that Karl Barth was simply the greatest theologian of the 20th Century? I don't think Pannenberg or Jenson or Rahner or Ratzinger [he's not really in the systematic pack with the rest of them] or von Balthazar [though he may be the most "cultured"] come even that close.)

At root, religion is the effort to manipulate the divine to one's own or one's people's benefits and desires. This may be more or less cynical, savage, or selfish. Faith, on the other hand, is a receptive relationship with the divine in which, at least in Christian terms, one allows God to be God and to be the measure of life for oneself and one's people.

Hence, "religion is the last refuge of the scoundrel."

Amen.

Now come on, people, you have to give me points for brevity.

Belated thoughts on Bill Bennett

I wasn't going to post this, but my bile is up and I have to get it out of my system. William Bennet is a big fat liar -- and he lies on purpose.

William Bennett is a first-class, hypocritical, pompous scold. He has always been, and he'll likely not change -- even after all the flak he's taken for his comments on his radio show recently. He touts himself as an expert on morality and virtues, and he has undertaken to claim exemplar status for himself in those areas. (Cf. his books on "virtue" for children, e.g.) He's a passionately partisan social critic. (Cf. anything he says.) So I wasn't especially surprised to hear his analysis of a recent book that claims to show that crime rates fall with the legalizing of abortion, because presumably most of the abortions involve poor mothers of color. (I won't cite the book because I don't want to give that author any publicity.) He is an ardent foe of abortion (as am I), but he went over the line recently.

Bennett denounced the book, but in doing so, he made this observation: "But I do know that it's true that if you wanted to reduce crime, you could, if that were your sole purpose, you could abort every black baby in this country, and your crime rate would go down," Bennett said. He went on to note that it would be immoral to do so. (Ya think?)

Now what really gets me -- and what surprises me, too, for that matter, because I gave Bennett more credit for at least some thinking -- is the blatant and simply stupid racism that he voices. It shows absolutely no sophistication about crime statistics, preferring to take them at face value. Here's what I mean.

I Hennepin County, where I live, the number (and per capita) of blacks arrested way outpaces that of whites arrested. But that does not support the claim that blacks commit more crime. Studies have shown repeatedly that cops are more likely to arrest blacks than they are whites for the same supposed offences. Whites are also (throughout the process) allowed more releases on their own "recognizance" (as they say on TV) and to be "diverted" -- i.e., to be dealt with in non-judicial and -penal systems. In this county, it is not blacks that need fixing; it is the system.

But even if it were to be demonstrated that blacks do commit more crimes, that is not even one step along the path to showing that all blacks share equally in the issue. (And that is something that Bennett implied.) Studies also show that people who commit crimes are hundreds of times more likely to re-commit crimes than "ordinary people" are likely to commit even one crime. That means that criminal activity is concentrated among criminals, not equally distributed throughout the community. Mr. Bennett, wake up.

Fascination with the unexamined big lie is quite natural. What is also natural, unfortunately, is the knee-jerk reaction to the big lie -- protesting without offering any kind of rebuttal. That latter has been the case with partisan lefties, who take great umbrage, but don't spell out why Mr. Bennett is the liar that he is.

He is too smart (he will be happy to tell you that he has a Ph.D. and was once Secretary of Education -- imagine that!) not to know what he said. And he's too glib to have misspoken. And he knows something about statistics and their misuse (lies, damned lies, and statistics?). One must conclude ... . (And here I try to avoid further violating the eighth commandment.)

"Theology": A description

Thanks, in advance to Clint, over at Lutheran Confessions, for this description or definition of "theology" as offered by Marilynne Robinson (lately famous for her novel Gilead, but here quoted from her book of essays The Death of Adam: Essays in Modern Thought):

"Great theology is always a kind of giant and intricate poetry, like epic or
saga. It is written for those who know the tale already, the urgent messages and
the dying words, and who attend to its retelling with a special alertness,
because the story has a claim on them and they on it. Theology is also close to
the spoken voice. It evokes sermon, sacrament, and liturgy, and of course,
Scripture itself, with all its echoes of song and legend and prayer. It earns
its authority by winning assent and recognition, in the manner of poetry but
with the difference that the assent seems to be to ultimate truth, however
oblique or fragmentary the suggestion of it. Theology is written for the small
community of those who would think of reading it" (117).

Those are words worth savoring.

Anyone disagree with Ms. Robinson?

Feat of St. Francis

Today is the Feast Day of St. Francis, and I wish you all inspiration by his example and knowledge of the joy that a pet can give.

This evening at my church, Mount Olive, we will observe the annual "blessing of the animals" in the spirit of Francis' assertion that all of creation shares in fraternity and sorority in God. If that sounds a little snide, I meant it to sound ironic.

It seems that all we really value about the witness of Francis is his love for our four-legged (and more!) friends. The link above, for example, calls him patron of animals and the environment. That seems to miss the meaning of the man and the saint. Certainly, it is certaininly legitimate to see in Francis the model of one who sees the interrelationship of all aspects of creation. After all, the rule he devised for his "Order of Friars Minor" forbade riding horses for transportation. To treat an animal such was as wrong, he asserted, as riding on the back of one's brother for transport.

But we need to remember more about Francis than that. His was a witness to and call for complete surrender to the love and authority of God. Give up all trappings of other attachments: That was Francis' way. And I can't help wondering whether the whole institution of blessing animals wrongheadedly trivializes his life and witness. For he was about more than animals (and, by some counts, stars and moons). His devotion to self-less service of God -- including service to all of God's -- gets lost, I fear, in the cacophany of barks, meows, neighs, and (if one is unlucky enough to know people with snakes) hisses. Do those who bring their beasts to church think of bringing a person from off the streets for that kind of blessing? Or of taking a blessing to their political representative -- a blessing that might call for reformation or repentance? Do the pet owners (for only pets get brought, in most places: What about strays or unpleasant beasts -- e.g., rats or chinchillas?) see beyond their pets to the grace of God or do they see in them another symbol of their concern for their own comfort?

Of course, I do not object to thanking God -- indeed, blessing him -- for the gift of the animal kingdom. I'd get astronomers and geographers in on the schtick, too. And we should tie it all together with the Benedicite omnia opera.

But what is with the blessing? I guess it's my lack of clarity on this that got me going on this post.

At Mount Olive, we are exploring the possibility of authorizing the pastor to preside at the blessing of same-sex unions. (I'll forego the joy of unmasking the actual agenda of the discussion -- which is to establish a rationale for a decision already informally made.) I thought it ironic in the extreme that we were talking on Sunday about that topic and debating whether it is appropriate (guess which side I took). And that happened directly after announcing the service for the blessing of the animals. So: We can bless animals but not human relationships?

In our discussion, we have been singularly unclear about what a "blessing" is. On the one hand, the pastor wants clearly to distinguish blessing a same-sex union from a wedding or marriage. And yet in his review of a rite of blessing, he opined that if we go this route "nothing would change at Mount Olive" because we would simply do for two men or two women what we do in other "marriages." And that has gotten me going on the whole question of what a blessing is.

Does anyone have a good resource for helping me sort that out? God blesses; we bless God; we "bless" others; we are 'just truly blessed.' What's with that?

In the rites for animal blessings that I have seen, "blessing" means little more than thanking God for the joys of pets and asking Him to keep them safe. Is there more?

I wonder what St. Francis would say about the extravagance of keeping pets and if he would grant his blessing to our rites of blessing animals.