The Crucified God

In preparation for Holy Week, I am giving a presentation tomorrow at First Presbyterian Church in Bellingham, Washington on Jürgen Moltmann’s classic: The Crucified God. For a few years now, re-reading this book has been a Lenten practice of mine. In it Moltmann conceives of a revolution in our thinking about God. In this revolution the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is the central and guiding act in the person of God.

Instead of beginning with a god of metaphysics or even a disconnected Jesusology, Christian theology is confronted with Jesus’ derelict cry of godforsakeness: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The cross of the risen Christ becomes the starting point of Christian thought and practice in that in God’s on being God suffers death. The Son suffers in the godforsakeness of death as our representative and the Father suffers the infinite grief of the loss and surrender of the Son. And in the words of Bonhoeffer, “only the suffering God can help” us in our violence, grief, and godless living. But death is not the final word, in the resurrection of the crucified Christ we experience forgiveness, liberation, life, and hope.

In regards to this revolution in our thinking about God, he believes we must be thoroughly Trinitarian. He concludes (note: the paragraph breaks are my own. I added them to aid in readability):

If in the freedom given through the experience of it the believer understands the crucifixion as an event of the love of the Son and the grief of the Father, that is, as an event between God and God, as an event within the Trinity, he perceives the liberating word of love which creates new life. 

By the death of the Son he is taken up into the grief of the Father and experiences a liberation which is a new element in this de-divinized and legalistic world, which is itself even a new element over against the original creation of the word. He is in fact take up into the inner life of God, if in the cross of Christ he experiences the love of God for the godless, the enemies, in so far as the history of Christ is the inner life of God himself. 

In that case, if he lives in this love, he lives in God and God in him. If one conceives the Trinity as an event of love in the suffering and the death of Jesus—and that is something which faith must do—then the Trinity is no self-contained group in heaven, but an eschatological process open for men on earth, which stems from the cross of Christ. By the secular cross on Golgotha, understood as open vulnerability and as the love of God for loveless and unloved, dehumanized men, God’s being and God’s life is open to true man. There is no ‘outside the gate’ with God (W. Borchert), if God himself is the one who died outside the gate on Golgotha for those who are outside.

Liking People in the Name of Jesus

One of my seminary professors would constantly post aphorisms on his door. Sometimes they were his own. Sometimes they were quotes. My favorite was one from his own hand.

“There is no greater anthropomorphism than Jesus.”

 

God is to be worshiped. God is to be adored. God is God and we are not. This is true.

But to paraphrase my main man Karl Barth, what if God’s deity includes his humanity?

In making God great, do we do this at the expense of the very people God created? In wedging an infinite qualitative distinction between God and us, do we forget God’s primal turn towards us? Do we forget that God is the covenant making God who bound himself not only to Israel, not only to Abraham, but to all of creation? Do we forget that God turned toward to us so fully he “became flesh”? This is not to deny the relevance of passage like Isaiah 55:8 ("For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways"), but to put it in proper context: God's ways are turning toward us in Jesus Christ.

I have one imprecise test of the theology of theologians and the preaching of preachers: Does he or she like people? Are people valuable in and of themselves? Not for who they might be, but who they are in all his quirks, eccentricities, foibles, and idiosyncrasies? Who she is for all the things she enjoys but you don't? Who she is as one loved by God?

As a preacher, teacher, small group leader, mentor, friend, co-worker, etc., I'm afraid I'm always running the risk of trying to subtly change people to be more like me. This demand isn’t born out of love. It’s born out of some uneasy desire to be right, to demand conformity, to somehow validate our own lifestyle choices. It doesn’t sound like it’s coming from a person who likes people. Love? Sure. But like? That’s not so clear.

Karl Barth wrote about the “humanity of God”. God was, no doubt, God. But God was a human God because God once-for-all turned toward us in Jesus Christ. Lets put it another way. In Jesus Christ, God demonstrated something good, something scandalous, and frankly something quite shocking: God likes people. Sure he challenged people. Sure he called people into a new type of life but the narrative I read is one where Jesus seems to be constantly and pleasantly delighted in people. (Seriously though, respected or no, who invites a relative stranger to your party if you aren't sure they like you?)

Consequently theology must be humanistic. (Or maybe better said “ecological” but that’s for another day!)

In all good theology there is a humanism that values humans for one reason: God likes people.

Faith, Evangelism and Karl Barth

Copyright © 2012 Karl Barth Foundation 

As part of Bellingham's theology and discussion group, the Forge, I've been preparing a presentation on "Karl Barth Today". Specifically, I'll be talking about Karl Barth on election. As part of my preparation I've been going through old notes. This is something I found that I wrote a few years back after reading IV/1 of Barth's magisterial Church Dogmatics on "The Doctrine of Reconciliation." This is what I wrote.

Karl Barth rightly observes that a person’s conversion to God is a big deal. It’s a watershed moment. I think it’s something that he and American evangelicals would have much in common. However, how he goes about this discussion would be very different.

Considering our conversion to God, Barth notes that in some dogmatics, some theologies, this is the beginning of the doctrine of reconciliation and not the end.  That is, it is placed before humanity’s justification.  We “convert” and therefore we are justified. In terms of a ladder, conversion leads to the next step justification. And to make it clear, I’m grossly generalizing here. There’s many ways to talk about this amongst the evangelical camp.

For Barth, the truth of humanity’s conversion to God begins and ends with God’s turning toward us in Jesus Christ.  Our conversion can only be understood as a subjective response to humanity’s justification before God brought about by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ in which Jesus Christ as our representation totally displaces sinful humanity and thereby brings about our justification. In our ladder illustration, our accomplished reconciliation brought about in Jesus Christ is the lower step on the ladder. By virtue of this lower “step”, we might “be converted”.

As sinful humanity is justified before God we are summoned to a positive response of faith in God. That is, we are called to repent and believe.  This justifying faith is properly the work of the Holy Spirit.  Barth writes:  “The Holy Spirit is the power in which Jesus Christ the Son of God makes a man free, makes him genuinely free for this choice and therefore for faith.”

But lest Barth be misunderstood, the summons to faith is never to be understood in a solely individualistic manner.  The summons takes place within the context of the one holy catholic and apostolic Church which is the earthly-historical form of Jesus Christ.

What then does this mean for the Church and her proclamation of the free grace of God executed through Jesus Christ?

First, it does not mean the Church begins with a proclamation of sinful humanity.  To be sure, humanity is sinful, i.e. we are exposed in our pride, sloth, and falsehood. However, our sinfulness is seen most clearly in the gracious justifying act of Jesus Christ.  The humble and obedient act of Jesus Christ in his incarnation, life, death, and resurrection exposes us as sinners.  Nevertheless, this is not the first nor is it final word.

Second, it means the Church begins with the proclamation of the work of Christ who accomplished the full justification of humanity in his life, death, and resurrection.  As a congregation of pardoned sinners, the emphasis falls squarely on the word pardoned.  The justifying work of Jesus Christ has objectively displaced sinful humanity before God.  The Church loudly and clearly hears the “yes” of God.  God the Father ruled in favor of the Son and as our representative, God the Father so too rules in our favor.

Third, the Church calls men and women into faith in this God.  We are called to acknowledge Jesus as Lord.  We are called to recognize our place as pardoned sinners.  We are called to confess the saving work of Jesus Christ.

Fourth, this faith does not precede the justification of humanity.  In fact our faith is in the God who has accomplished this in Jesus Christ.  Our faith is an empty hand that is able to offer God nothing and a self-demonstration of our very selves as pardoned sinners.

In short the message is this: become who you already are in Jesus Christ.

The Indie Kid Find His Soul

Erykah Badu

I feel like I’m skirting close to becoming a parody of the younger evangelical set.

Mainline denomination? Check.

Reads theology? Check.

Interested in learning from traditions outside the Reformed set? Check.

Thick glasses? Check.

Listens to NPR? Check.

Blogs? Check.

Uses terms like “parish”, “sustainability”, and “grassroots” without a sense of irony? Check.

Listens to an insane amount of indie rock? Check.

I once tried on skinny jeans and felt like the biggest loser in the world. I don’t have an iphone. I don’t instragram so I can’t take any sepia tone photos of my coffee (Black. No cream. No sugar.). I don’t own any cardigans, although I’m open to them. I do wear scarfs. I ride a bike, but it’s not a fixed gear bike. I’m too nervous to take this quiz. I’m not sure I want to know the results.

Why this navel gazing? Besides reminding myself that I’m not a delicate snowflake, it’s a roundabout way of coming to the fact that for the last month I’ve pretty lived off a steady diet of jazz, neo-soul, hip-hop, bluegrass, and even jug bands. This is a big deal for me. Since about 1995 when I was forced to sell most of my hip-hop albums (we’ll save that for another day), I’ve listened almost exclusively to indie rock. It’s been good to me. It’s also been sort of an identity maker for me. I’ve got a fairly decent reputation of having both a deep and wide knowledge of independent* music released over the last 30 years. To be honest, I like being the guy who can talk about almost any artist with an arm or foot in the nebulous indie cloud. This isn’t to say I haven’t stepped out of the safe and loving arms of this scene from time to time, but it’s been only flings here and there.

*Yes, mister or miss know it all. “Independent” is a meaningless term since most of them aren’t actually independent. Yes, I know “indie” is a catch-all for so many different types of music that it’s essentially useless as a genre. Seriously, tell me again what LCD Soundsystem and Bon Iver have in common?

But this shift seems a bit more serious.

It started a year or so ago while watching the first season of Treme. Set in post-Katrina New Orleans, it’s about a city trying to live again. It’s also about music. The sounds of New Orleans permeate every nook and cranny of the show. It’s a crash course into the vastness of the New Orleans music scene. For me, it was like a door was opened and clean fresh air swooped in.

Last year was also the release of undun, the brilliant new album by the Roots. Sounding almost as if it were meant to be The Wire: The Musicial, the Roots once again reminded me of the vibrancy, power, potency, and social consciousness of hip-hop. I also spent a great deal of time listening to the neo-soul sounds of Raphael Saadiq, a man intent on reviving our collective love of James Brown.

Most recently, the bluegrass/roots/jug band Carolina Chocolate Drops dropped their magnificent Leaving Eden—an archaic sounding album that somehow manages to combine the rhythm and aesthetic of the hip-hop sound with music ridiculously unfashionable and it works with flair to spare.

This combination sent me into a bender of recent discoveries. My day is spent pouring through new and older records by Robert Glasper, Esperanza Spalding, Erykah Badu, Janelle Monae, Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Trombone Shorty, and the like. For the first time in a long time I feel like a newbie. I’m being led into to this new world that sounds so vibrant and fresh to my fresh ears. There’s so much to learn and discover. (Please, send me your recommendations.) It’s also a reminder of grace. I have no expertise to fall back on. I’m totally dependent on the recommendations of others. I’m a learner once again and it feels good.

It could be that this is a phase. After all, it represents about 1/384^th of my life which isn’t exactly a hill I’m about to die on. But it is a phase I’m really enjoying.

Now, about the question of becoming a parody: I’m pretty sure a guy who listens to NPR and jazz just fell headfirst into the parody well. I guess I’m fine with that. The water’s fine.

What Soccer Fans Taught Me about the Church

I am a card carrying member of the Timbers Army. (Literally. My card arrived in the mail a couple months ago.)

For the uninitiated, the Timber’s Army is the Soccer Supporters Group (SSG) for the Portland Timbers of Major League Soccer. As a SSG, they’re a grassroots organization that does everything from organizing road trips, creating Tifo, to cultivating an atmosphere of fan support at the games. SSG’s are really a soccer-only phenomenon and have been instrumental in aiding the recent growth in popularity of soccer in the United States. If you’ve ever been to a Seattle Sounders game, you’ve seen their SSGs-- for example the Emerald City Supporters and Gorilla FC--in action: standing, jumping, shouting, chanting, and clapping in the south end of the stadium.

At one time on the FAQ page for the Timbers Army, they answered the question of whether you had to be a card carrying member of the Timbers Army in order to truly belong to the Timbers Army. For the Timbers Army, the answer was simple: No. If you’re a fan of the Timbers, you’re already a member of the Timbers Army. The saying goes, "If you want to be part of the Timbers Army, you already are." They’re not an exclusive club. They exist to support the Timbers, the sport of soccer, and the Portland community in general. Thus, if you support the Timbers, you’re in the Timbers Army.

I love it.

The Timbers Army has one, incredibly simple qualification: support the team. If you do that, you’re in. There’s no questions asked. There’s no quiz. There’s no initiation rite. Go out and root for the Timbers. It isn’t that hard of a concept.

It sort of reminds me of the Church.

I’m a part of First Presbyterian Church. My wife works for the INN University Ministries. For both, their purpose is simple: as people blessed by God, go be a blessing in this world. Or to put it another way, they're all about Jesus.

Easy enough. The Church has a purpose. If you love Jesus you're on the team. Now go be a blessing. It’s not about waiting to be asked or to be told to do something. It’s about people already empowered to go out and be ministers of the gospel. That's it. It's that simple. If you want to be part of the Church, you already are.

Oh yeah. One more thing:

Rose City ‘til I Die!

Oh yeah. One last thing. This is my lasting image of the Church as people who celebrate what God is doing:

Ten Even Better Moments in Youth Pastoring

Yesterday I shared ten funny moments from my time as the Youth Director at First Presbyterian Church. While they were funny, they also pointed away from what a holy calling loving youth and training them in the way of Jesus Christ is. These are some of my favorite of those moments.

1.      Watching kids grow up

Being part of the same faith community for over a decade means you get to see kids grow up. The kids that were in diapers are now in middle school. The kids that were in high school are married and have kids. Kids that were in elementary school are sharing pictures of their college retreats on Facebook. God is faithful. It’s an amazing thing to see that first hand.

2.      Visiting kids in jail, praying with those facing death, counseling the hopeless …

These moments aren’t “great” in any classic sense. Who wants to catch someone stealing? Who wants to call a probation officer? But it was a tangible way to comfort those in need of comfort. It was my way of saying to those drifting into chaos to know they wouldn’t be let go, that they were loved, and that their lives mattered to me and mostly to God.

3.      Watching movies

For a couple of months I watched a wide array of films with high school students. After every movie we opened the Bible and discussed the movie from a Biblical perspective. We analyzed assumptions and values within the movie. We criticized them from a Biblical perspective. We looked at what we could learn from these moments. It was one of those fine times where I could sense scales falling off of our eyes and the life of faith started making sense for our actual lives.

4.      Helping Sergio make it to the top of the mountain

Sergio was a big middle school boy who was out of shape. One day the youth group took a hike to the top of Fragrance Lake. For two hours I pushed and encouraged Sergio as he made his way up the mountain. And he made it. It was an important moment for him. Sergio went on to graduate high school, something unique for his extended family. He was also accepted to Western. As far as I know he was the first person from his family to do that. Youth group was another place where he learned what he was capable of doing and what type of person he was capable of being.

5.      Watching Middle Schoolers sprint to Sunday School

I love God’s Word. I love it even more when others are excited about it too.

6.      The vulnerability of hearing someone admit their most meaningful song was “Second Best”

We need safe places. We need places of honesty and transparency. We need places where we can admit that we feel like second best in every thing we do. It’s in those moments of vulnerability that God’s healing and strength break through.

7.      Being a dad to those without a dad

OK, maybe I wasn’t a second dad. Maybe more like a cool uncle. There were too many kids that passed through the doors that had no consistent male presence in their lives. For an hour or so ever week I got to be that person. It’d like to believe that the weeks added up and it made some sort of difference; that they knew they were loved; that they got to see with faithfulness and commitment looked like. For me it was a holy calling.

8.      Serving side by side

If you pay much attention to the activities of the Middle School and High School youth ministries of FPC, you’ll notice they serve a lot. From Mexico to the Lighthouse Mission to many places in between, they serve. Honestly, I don’t miss youth ministry that much. God is calling me in different directions. But it’s those times of service that I miss.

I miss the comedy of a Gospel Mission thinking a middle school boy was a girl or taking the opportunity of tarring a roof in Mexico to make a mustache made of tar. I miss the stories they hear while serving hot dogs at Street Church. I miss seeing their realization that they can organize and run a Vacation Bible School. I miss witnessing first hand that service isn’t something you do when you’re an adult. It starts now.

9.      Spending time with leaders who loved kids

Youth ministry cannot be done in isolation. Youth ministry is done by a vast network of men and women, young and old. This ministry is both formal and informal. It ranges all the way from organized youth teams and leaders to the person simply helping a child get her animal crackers downstairs after the worship service.

Throughout my time as a youth pastor, I had dozens of leaders who served as mentors and guides to the youths who walked through the doors of FPC. They prayed with them. They called them. They drove them here and there. These were great people doing a great thing. Many of them are still my best friends. I am thankful for each and every one.

10.  Two years after any direct involvement. I watched youth of whom I ministered only a short time share their statements of faith before the congregation after completion of confirmation class

This moment confirmed a deep belief of mine. Youth ministry is more than a strong youth pastor, though that helps. Youth ministry is more than a strong youth department, though that is important. Youth ministry happens when a whole congregation loves children of all ages. Youth ministry happens through a network of men and women of all ages who love youth from birth through adulthood. They look him in the eye. They listen to her. They help him. They receive help. They do it with gladness. They teach the child about Jesus. They give the child opportunities to serve, knowing that they have gifts to share with the congregation and the community. It’s moments like confirmation that allows the mutual joy of the child sharing his faith and the congregation hearing and receiving that word.

Ten Great Moments in Youth Pastoring

EDIT: Please also visit a more serious look at my time as a youth pastor: Ten Even Better Moments in Youth Pastoring.

I had an interesting 8 year run as a youth pastor. Many of the kids that came were from homes that could be described as difficult. Even for adolescent standards, they didn’t always act the way you wanted them to act. It was infuriating, tiring, and often defeating. But I loved them and mostly wouldn’t change a thing.

I’m sure anyone who works with youth for a living have tons of funny stories to tell. These are some of mine.

1.      Watching a car full of girls pop the emergency brake off their mini-van only to have it roll across the alley and crash into the adjacent building.

A thank you card and a Blizzard is a much better way to say thank you to your matronly chauffeur than a dented bumper and brickwork.

2.      Having not one, but two kids run away while under your watch.

You know that moment when you’re with a bunch of high schoolers and you realize you’re missing one? And then because no one has cell phones you’re driving all over town trying to find him? And then you see him sprinting down the sidewalk of a busy street a mile and a half from the Dairy Queen you were visiting because he wanted to go home and couldn’t wait for his sister to finish her Blizzard? Yeah, I’ve been there too.

Or how about when that Middle Schooler, who was going to be dropped off next, is tired of waiting in the car so he gets out of the car and starts running down the middle of street so you get to chase him and get him back into the car so you can drive him home? Yeah, me too!

On the plus side, this kid is the same kid who said he would eat his arm if it was made of shrimp. So there’s that.

3.      Realizing a kid pooped in a bag and brought it as a White Elephant gift.

You know who’s not subtle? Kids that would poop in a brown paper bag and try to give it as a gift.

4.      Watching kids watching Super Size Me just to see person get fat.

Remember that guy who lived off fast food for a month to see what would happen to his body and then documented it and turned into a movie? I chaperoned a middle school slumber party where they rented it. (Weird right? Of all the choices, they picked that?) Watching it consisted of them fast forwarding it and stopping periodically to see how fat he’d gotten. They were extremely disappointed to reach the end of the film and he wasn’t morbidly obese. True story.

5.      Advising the first ever Dungeon and Dragons club at a local high school.

Youth pastor gurus tell other youth pastors to get involved with the schools. Usually that means coaching. Because sports are cool. Get the cool kids and you’ll get the non-cool kids. Your ministry will grow. And God will love you more. (By the way, youth pastor gurus often aren’t gurus. They just happen to work at a bigger church than you. Because it is bigger, it is necessarily better and they know better than everyone else. It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that they might be gliding off natural charisma.)

I went the complete opposite route. I’d like to believe I’m the first and only youth pastor ever to serve as an advisor for the Dungeons and Dragons club.

And no. I had never played before. And no. I don’t play now. And yes, D&D is in fact awesome. If more kids had the creativity and the ability to imagine different worlds, I’d feel incredibly optimistic about the future of this country.

6.      Camping at a hobo camp.

Under the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. 30 yards from the train tracks. Looking back, I’m not sure why I got hired for that job. Thankfully, the question “What would you do if a couple of kids wanted to camp at a hobo camp by the train tracks?” never came up at my interview.

Oh, and you know what makes camping at a hobo camp even better? When it starts pouring rain at 2 AM and you’re “sleeping” on a rock.

7.      Debating a couple of girls whether the song “My Humps” was good or bad for women.

Right. Because nothing says take me seriously as a person quite like writing an ode to “my lovely lady lumps.”

8.      spending $48 on two blizzards

Technically this doesn’t have much to do with youth pastoring. And it was totally my fault. But we did go to Dairy Queen after youth group every week. Often I’d buy one for me and when I was leaving I’d buy one for Lindsay. It never crossed my mind to buy them both at the same time and picked hers up when I was leaving.

They cost $2 each. Unless, of course, you don’t have enough money in your checking account. In that case, the bank does you the kind service of covering the cost for you for a small $22 convenience fee. 2 blizzards at $2 each + 2 “convenience” fees at $22 each = $48.

It’s a good thing youth pastors make a lot of money. Otherwise paying $48 for two Blizzards would have been lame.

9.      Having a student tell you he’s “addicted to porn” on your very public family answering machine.

There is nothing funny about pornography. What is funny is calling your youth pastor and dropping this news in the most public way possible. Of course, who has answering machines anymore? New rule: don’t tell your pastor you’re addicted to porn by writing it on a Facebook wall. It’s embarrassing for everyone.

10.  Decorating Christmas Bags to be handed out to members of Seattle’s homeless population with holiday greetings like “Let it Snow.”

Nothing says “I love you” to a person living on the street quite like “I hope the temperature drops below freezing and dumps snow all over you.”