FYI: Easter isn't over. Dr. Jeff Gibbs of Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, offers appropriate resurrection focus for our Easter celebration. Enjoy.
 The shooting death of Trayvon Martin has grown into a national discussion. In this Holy Week, a re-read of the biblical record gives us cause to ponder another unjust death. With the background of the Trayvon Martin case, I’ve become further aware of the injustice bestowed on the first century Teacher from Galilee. The death of Trayvon Martin has rekindled national debates about racism, stereotypes, and profiling. At the heart of the emotion and outrage is a deep sense of injustice. It is remarkable that there was no petition for justice in the case of Jesus of Nazareth. No protestor proclaiming, “No justice, no peace.” Nothing like the “I am Trayvon Martin” t-shirt. The gospel writers clearly underscore Jesus’ innocence, but absolutely no one stands up for him. Neither did the early Christians protest. Instead they actually celebrated the injustice. The very “logo” of Christianity is the device by which Jesus was unjustly executed. The death of Trayvon has permeated the news media cycle. Family and friends say, “We will not forget.” But as is typical with tragic events, they slowly dissipate from memory. The 24-hour news cycle grabs the next tragedy. It is remarkable that news of the cross event has not gone away. Not only has Jesus “not been forgotten,” but he has advanced into the very lives and activity of his followers for 2,000 years. He is not only a memory, but a “living present,” and “future.” The death of Trayvon has vilified the shooter, George Zimmerman. Rightly or wrongly, he is clearly the national “bad guy.” It is remarkable that Jesus dies for the “bad guys” and villains. For the thief on his periphery. For his executors as he says, “Father, forgive them.” What we have in the case of this first century Jew is nothing short of remarkable. No news media outlet could have spun this story. Maybe there is a divine author after all. For all my single ladies. Tell me what you think of these 8 principles for dating. Being a male, I'm unqualified to speak to some of the things this female author says. As a pastor, I am observing an undeniable trend: Strong, faithful, God-fearing young women dating immature boys. I'm concerned for our young women who are looking for a husband. Our society is overrun with irresponsible, porn-addicted, under-achieving adolescents who happen to be 28-years-old. On top of that, I regularly interact with a disproportionate number of young men who have no room for Jesus in their life. So young women, I'm praying for some godly young men. And I'm working really hard to raise some up in our church. We've got some already . . . just in case you're looking. 
A clarification on my previous post. I am not opposed to defending religious liberty. What I am asserting is that if we see the issue as only about religious rights, then it is too narrow. There is a "Rally For Religious Liberty" tomorrow in our state capital. The archbishop of St. Louis will be there along with a rep from the Missouri Baptist Convention and our own church body. Again, I am not opposed to this public statement regarding a federal mandate that forces religious employers to pay for things to which they object. Here's the issue: When does the public see the Christian community united? Does the world only hear from the Christian community when we are offended (or when we've offended others)? Does the public only hear from the Church when "our rights have been violated"? It would be interesting if we stormed Capital Hill on behalf of someone else's rights. I guess this happens with pro-life rallies. But many people still perceive that as a "Christian rights" issue. It would be particularly interesting if we came to the defense of a group or cause that isn't normally associated with Christians. What if the Christian community united before Congress with a proposal to find a home for every orphan in the U.S.? What if the Christian community came to the rescue of American Muslims who have been victims of racial/religious violence? After all, we should want for them the same religious rights that we are fighting for. It's good to defend our rights. But I think we can do even better than that. We can defend the rights of others. There has been a fierce debate during the last couple months over the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services’ (HHS) recent decision to require nearly all private health plans, including those offered by religious employers, to cover contraceptives. Our church body’s president offered a helpful response on February 16th before the House Oversight Committee. Amidst the firestorm, I need not say anything new. But I make an observation. And I propose that for Christians we re-frame the discussion. It appears the primary thrust of the debate is about rights. It’s “women’s rights” versus “religious rights.” The House Oversight Committee’s hearing was titled as much: “Lines Crossed: Separation of Church and State. Has the Obama Administration Trampled on Freedom of Religion and Freedom of Conscience?” Whether women or religious people, it seems everyone feels their rights are being trampled on. As for women’s rights, I happen to be for them. I just don’t think that it’s anyone’s inalienable right to be given free contraception. Nor do I believe it’s anyone’s right - male or female - to dispose of human life. I am a proponent of women getting paid equally and being respected in society. I want to stand up to unfair discrimination. On the other side, religious leaders have made the debate about religious rights. I don’t disagree. But for some reason, the Christian response sounds more like shrill whining. While I do believe there is government intrusiveness here, I’m not overly concerned about my rights as a Christian. I’m really more concerned about the rights of children. It’s really about kids – having them or not having them, caring for them or disposing of them. And this is where I believe that followers of Jesus have an opportunity to humbly change the conversation. Let’s move beyond political calls for religious freedom. This isn’t about “my rights as a Christian.” I’m doing pretty well compared to Christians in Nigeria and Iran. Instead, this is about Christians working for the rights of others. What does it really mean to care for women? What can we proactively do to advance the rights of children - stand for orphans, stop child abuse, work for education reform, etc. A fundamental component of following Jesus is the Great Commandment, to love God and love my neighbor as myself (Matt. 22:37-39). Jesus says, “Love one another just as I have loved you.” This is a self-giving love that gives up rights for the sake of others. It’s a risky, dangerous, and often uncomfortable love. To love others in the way of Christ means I’m prepared to have my rights trampled on. Jesus lived in a land that was under Roman occupation. His goal was bigger than religious freedom. It was to love sacrificially, giving up his rights for others. It was this love that got him killed. I find that the conversation changes when I’m not defensive of my own rights, but rather fierce for the rights of others. Part of being a pastor is listening. The question of the month is a way for me to listen to you. I invite you to respond freely and honestly. I may comment on responses, but I will never publish names or information. This month, I'm looking at technology. I've been asked frequently about appropriate use in our daily lives. Help me formulate a response. "I can't remember a farmer who was ever in a hurry. Farmers characteristically work hard, but there is too much work to do to be in a hurry." - Eugene Peterson Are you a blur of activity, a hurried mess? Do your friends to think, "He's/she's too busy for me"? Do you want your children to eulogize at your funeral, "Yes, he was always working"? Or, "She was always on her phone." You are not the axis on which the world turns. Your "hurry, worry, and flurry" is a sin. You think too much of yourself. Yes, you have work to do. And it will get done. But God can get on without you if he wants. Count it a blessing that he invites you into his work at all. Now get off the computer and go for a walk. 
We live in a culture absolutely obsessed with perception. Our lust for social media proves this, since much of social media is more about perception, and less about reality. Is your Facebook profile a complete picture of who you really are? Or is it how you want to be perceived? Take my homemade Facebook diagnostic:
But there is a fine line between healthy self-disclosure and obsession with perception. Quite simply, obsession with perception is vanity. We all obsess over how we are perceived. “Do people like me?” “Respect me?” “Admire me?” Vanity obsessively desires attention and admiration from others through appearance, qualities, abilities, or achievements. I’m not suggesting you abstain from Facebook. Just consider, “Why am I posting this?” OK, I’m going to post some pictures of my kids to show everyone how cute they are and how awesome I am. 
I walked into my local coffee shop this morning. Cara was working. She my lesbian, roller-derby, barista friend. I was wearing my clerical collar, which I don't normally do. But Ash Wednesday made it appropriate attire for a few things on my schedule. I zipped my jacket up tight to conceal the collar. She doesn't know I'm a pastor. I'm afraid she'll freak when she finds out. After a friendly exchange, she helped the gentleman behind me. She noted the ashes on his forehead. He proceeded to explain with pride that he did his Ash Wednesday duty by going to 6:30AM mass. "I got it out of the way early." This made me reflect on how Cara may have heard this: A useless religious ritual. An arduous duty. A cultural rite no different than fireworks on July 4th and roses on Valentines. I walked away praying to God that if anyone had a mindless inclination to go to church today, that he forbid them from entering the church door. "God, if anyone is going to church out of cultural obligation, spare them of the vain effort." I'm not sure how sanctified my prayer was, but I had to go somewhere with my frustration. If it doesn't matter, don't do it. Don't insult God and don't make Christians look so mindless. Ashes on Ash Wednesday find their origins back in Genesis 3:19. In light of the fall into sin: "for you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Adam's basic ingredient was dirt. He would simply be an inanimate object, except that the living God blew life into him (Gen. 2:7). Unfortunately, Adam and Eve's violation in Genesis 3:6 had a damning consequence. From then on, when breath leaves a human, they go back to dust. Ash Wednesday reminds us of this universal consequence. Dust became life with a breath. But now our last breath means death and a return to dust. But that's not all. Resurrection means that the dust comes back to life again. Jesus is the breath of God to make lifeless dirt become truly human again - to put us back to God's original intention. Dust - Breath - Life - Death - Dust - Life again. Wear ashes mindful of your mortality. And hopeful that dust will breathe again. Maybe I should go back and see if Cara is still working. This time, I'll wear my ashes. | Pastor Jeff CloeterHusband to one woman. Father to three children. Friend to many. Pastor to 2,000. Neighbor to 2.1 million St. Louis residents. ArchivesMay 2012 CategoriesAll |
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