Worship


Claude Mariottini has a post entitled “The Golfer and the King” about a sermon illustration given by Joel Osteen in his book Your Best Life Now. He raises the question of whether the anecdote related by Osteen is one that actually happened or a story that Osteen invented to illustrate his point.

In my own sermons, I always make sure that I carefully distinguish between stories that are true and ones that I have made up (or someone else has made up).  Usually, stories in the latter category are jokes, so it is obvious that they are not true. And it always annoys me when preachers illustrate sermons with stories that are not true.

It seems to me that if the gospel is true, there should be enough true stories to illustrate it without us having to make ones up.

Last week, I wrote a post about humanism ransacking religious festivals and rituals for their own purposes. Several people have picked up on this and written their own posts on the subject.

James Pate had some thoughts and musings in a post whose title says it all: “But It Is My Tradition, Too”. James writes,

What exactly is wrong with Christians holding a seder, or incorporating elements of Judaism into their faith life? The Exodus is part of the Christian tradition as much as it is part of Judaism. And, sure, there are things that the Exodus means to Christians that it does not mean to Jews, such as the Passover lamb pointing to Christ’s sacrifice. But why can’t a Christian celebrate God’s activity in history on behalf of his people Israel? And why can’t a Christian do so while acknowledging that the Exodus story has specific significance for him, a Christian?

James is correct, of course, that the exodus is a part of Christian tradition. We should celebrate it as an example of God’s liberating work. The seder, however, is not a part of Christian tradition. Early Jewish Christians still celebrated Jewish holidays, but Gentile Christians did not, at least not in their original form. The seder became the Eucharist. The exodus is the central saving event for Jews. But for Christians, that event has been eclipsed by the cross.

The seder is central and unique to Judaism. It is almost a sine qua non. When outsiders, even well-meaning outsiders, take the seder and use it for their own purposes, they are taking something central and using it in a peripheral way. That to me seems insulting. It also amounts to cultural plagiarism, since we are taking something that our culture did not create and saying that it is ours to do with as we please.

In other words, we can celebrate the exodus as Christians, but we need to find a means other than the seder for doing so.

Aside from the seder, James does agree that syncretism is a bad thing, a point that is also picked up by John Hobbins in his post “Why Unitarianism is on a Roll”.  Both James and John (and Peter, I assume) point to an essay by John Levenson entitled “The Problem with Salad Bowl Religion”.  Levenson has some great things to say about syncretism.  The following paragraph cuts to the heart of the matter:

At the deepest level, an act performed in order to subordinate one’s own will to the will of God is vastly different from the identical act performed in pursuit of other goals—self-expression, aesthetic pleasure, familial nostalgia, ethnic identification, whatever. The motivation, of course, is not transparent, and if we go only by appearances, syncretistic worship that includes Jewish elements looks like a hyphenation of traditional Judaism with other things. In fact, it is only the semblances of the Jewish observance that have been imported. Their deeper authorization—the unique claims of the Covenant of Sinai upon the people Israel—have been tacitly but thoroughly denied.

The problem with the buffet style approach to religion is that it gets things backwards.  When we pick and choose from religions, we mold the religion to fit us.  But religion is supposed to be about religion molding us to be the people that God wants us to be.

The comparison with a buffet is apt.  When we eat meals chosen by a trained nutritionist, we have a well-balanced diet that provides us with all the protein, carbs, fiber, and vitamins that our bodies need.  I don’t know about you, but that is not what happens when I go to a buffet.  I end up eating foods I like, and the foods I like are not particularly healthy.  In the same way, few people are able to design their own well-balanced and nutritious spiritual diet.

Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Proper 21 (series reading)

This reading is the final reading in the six week series on Jeremiah.  The first two verses sets the date of this oracle in 587 BCE, when Nebuchadnezzar (here called Nebuchadrezzar) is besieging Jerusalem. This is the second siege of Jerusalem.  When it is over, Jerusalem and its temple will lie in ruins and a good portion of the people of Judah will find themselves carried off to Babylon.

In the reading, Jeremiah is basically under house arrest at the order of the king due to previous prophecies. While he is there, his cousin Hanamel comes to him and offers to sell him a piece of property in their ancestral town of Anathoth.  Hanamel apparently has to sell the property, and according to the Torah it must be sold to someone in the family (Lev. 25:25). Jeremiah purchases the property for sixteen shekels of silver.

From an economic standpoint, this is a bad move.  When a foreign army is besieging your city, it is not a good time to be investing in real estate.  The entire area is about to belong to Babylon, and they are not particularly interested in who owned individual lots prior to their arrival.

But Jeremiah’s purchase of the field in Anathoth is an act of hope.  Jeremiah has prophesied the destruction of Jerusalem and the Babylonian exile, but he also knows that this is not the end of Israel.  God will bring the people back to the land again.  Jeremiah may never make use of the field, but his children and grand-children will.  Jeremiah not only believes that God will return the people, but is willing to bet money on it.

Yesterday on NPR, I heard and interview with the humanist chaplain of Harvard University.  I didn’t catch his name, but their website lists Greg Epstein as the chaplain, so I assume this was he.

Before I start, I want to point out that this is not a tirade against secular humanism as such.  The idea of the evil secular humanists who are out to destroy religion is a favorite bogeyman of the religious right.  Such a creature rarely exists outside of the imagination of some evangelicals.  I personally have no problem with most of the tenants of humanism, and I would probably call myself a Christian humanist.

But Epstein said a couple of things yesterday with which I disagreed and one with which I have serious issues.

To begin with what he said that caused me serious consternation, he said that there is nothing wrong with humanists taking parts of religious festivals and using them for humanist purposes.  Now, while I have no problem with humanists having rituals to celebrate whatever they choose, I do have a problem with those who feel free to steal from the culture of others for their own benefit.

What he is advocating would be something akin to me holding a Seder, even though I am not Jewish.  I will happily attend a Seder when invited by Jewish friends, but for me to hold my own would be improper.  I am not Jewish.  My faith is part of the same family tree as Judaism, but that tree branched 2000 years ago.  And a Seder is so much a part of Jewish identity that it is wrong for Christians to cannibalize it.  I would not want a synagogue to hold a Eucharistic service, since doing so would take the Lord’s Supper and strip it of its central meaning.1

I know that such things do happen. We live in such a buffet culture that we feel we should be allowed to take what we like from each religion and build our own.  But such a model raises the individual above the community.  Each community of faith has the right to decide its own rituals, and other communities should not feel they have the right to take things from other communities, strip them of their essential meaning, and reinvent them for themselves.  Religions learn a lot from each other, but rituals are so central that they should not be treated as swappable parts.

A couple of other things raised my hackles.  One was that Epstein referred to atheist Jews and atheist Christians.  Presumably he meant atheists who were once Jewish or Christian but do not practice anymore.  This term is highly problematic, especially for Christians.  While Jewish is both a religious and ethnic designation, Christian is not.  Once one ceases to believe as a Christian, one no longer has the right to be called a Christian.  You may be an ex-Christian who is an atheist, but you are not a Christian atheist.

The other thing was his statement that we, as humans, need to realize that all the strength we need is within ourselves if only we would realize it.  From a pastoral standpoint, I have serious problems with this statement.  Telling someone who is at the end of their rope and being crushed under the weight of life that they just need to realize that they are strong enough is little more than telling someone to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.  It would probably push many people into deeper depth of despair when they feel that they do not have the strength.  The message they would hear is, “Everyone else is strong enough to handle life, but I am not.”  Such a philosophy offers little hope.

Granted, we do not decide which theology is correct based on which one offers us hope.  But humanists (including Epstein yesterday) criticize religion for abuse.  To me, telling someone who needs help that they just need to find the strength within themselves is abusive.  The message of Christ that His strength manifests itself when we are weak is a much more pastoral response.  And I believe this not because it makes me feel better but because I have experienced it.


  1. Yes, I am aware that the Lord’s Supper is related to and derived from a Seder. [back]

Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Proper 19 (series reading)

I wanted to start the commentary on this week’s lectionary reading by apologizing for last week’s post on the Revised Common Lectionary. My brain was apparently on vacation, and I posted on the reading for Year A. Currently, we are in Year C, so that post won’t be useful for preachers until September 2008.

This week, I am back in the correct year. The OT reading for this current Sunday is Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28, which is fourth reading in a six week series on Jeremiah. The lectionary reading here is divided, with vv.13-21 left out. I don’t like it when lectionary committees split up the readings like this. It breaks the canonical shape of the passage. Apparently they think the additional nine verses are either unimportant or too long for a congregation to endure.

The larger block of material to which this reading belongs is 4:5-31, an oracle in which Jeremiah prophesies the coming of Babylon and the destruction of Jerusalem. Vv.11-12 announce that the coming destruction is not about cleansing the people from their sins. The time is past for that. The sin of Jerusalem is too severe. The punishment will be more severe as well.

The passage picks up again in v.22, which lays out the indictment against the people of Israel:

They are skilled at doing evil, but do not know how to do good.

The word skilled is a form of the word hokhmah, the word usually translated as wisdom. Wisdom, after all, is skill at living. Here, it is said that the people are skilled at doing evil, but do not even know how to do good.

This is followed by a description of the destruction in vv.23-28. The almost apocalyptic imagery in vv.23-26 pictures the earth a laid waste before the anger of the Lord. Yet even in the midst of the destruction, there is a small note of hope. God promises not to make a full end to the people (v.27b). What is a small glimmer of hope here in Jeremiah’s prophecies prior to 587 BCE will turn into a major theme of his message afterwards.

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