Light in the Darkness

December 25, 2020December 25, 2020 / rtrube54 / 10 Comments

“Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali,
    the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan,
    Galilee of the Gentiles—
the people living in darkness
    have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death
    a light has dawned.”
–Matthew 4:15-16

I’ve been meditating of late how Jesus of Nazareth is truly the Savior from the margins. He was from an oppressed nation under Roman domination. Nazareth was in the remote north, far from the religious center of Jerusalem. He was likely of darker complexion. From a human point of view, his conception seemed questionable. The circumstances of his birth were “lowly.” The first to pay him homage were shepherds, people who lived on society’s margins. His early years were as a refugee, his parents fleeing to Egypt to save his life. His was in the building trades, working as a carpenter.

I’ve read a number of books by people on the margins this year–people of color, women who have been abused, even in the church, climate refugees, the poor. It strikes me Jesus would have much in common with these people, and it was for such as them, those living on the margins in the land of Galilee that he came, light into the darkness.

In one sense, I’m one of those, apart from our shared humanity, with whom Jesus had the least in common. The wonder of it all is that he came even for me. The truth is I am no more deserving and perhaps less than these. What has become increasingly clear is that I don’t get to remake him into a middle class, educated, American, white guy. This reminds me of a book of poems from my Jesus movement days, “Good Old Plastic Jesus” by Ernest Larsen, which is about all the ways we try to re-make Jesus. Instead, he came to those in darkness and dying to remake them, to bring light. So I find myself, especially in this tumultuous year of protests and pandemic, asking, “how would Jesus come and remake me?”

For much of my life I’ve been taught that those on the margins are “them,” the “other,” and to be feared and guarded against. I like to think of Jesus as with me. What a shattering thought that Jesus may likely be with “them,” that he is the “other.” One thing I’ve noticed about Jesus though. He doesn’t exclude. Sinners, tax collectors, women of questionable reputation are all at his table. Pharisees and religious leaders are as well, when they choose to be, and outside when they choose that. Usually they are outside to distance themselves from “them.” When I distance myself from others, I distance myself from Jesus. Then who is in the light of Jesus, and who in the darkness?

At the end of this year of protests, politics, and pandemics, I am weary of those who would separate us and them and make me choose. I want to choose to be where Jesus is, bringing light into darkness rather than cursing it. And I need Jesus to come and shine his light into all the hidden, dark places in me, the places where I still divide the world into us and them, the enlightened and the benighted.

Come, Lord Jesus and bring light into our darkness!

The Prince of Peace Comes to a Divided Church

December 25, 2019December 24, 2019 / rtrube54 / 3 Comments

“Prince of Peace” by GP 316, Public Domain CC0 1.0 Universal

I should preface this post by saying that what follows is a Christian reflection addressed to fellow Christians. Not all who follow me on social media share these convictions–not even all Christians! With that disclaimer, feel free to read on, tell me what you think if you differ, or pass, as you are inclined. Whatever the case, may the peace and joy of the holiday be yours.

I write this on Christmas Eve at the end of the season of waiting for the coming of the King. I wait not only to celebrate his first coming but also long for his return. Advent reminds me that I live between the times, between the kingdom already come, and the fulfillment of that in the return of the King. My Advent readings of this year remind me of the longing of those who witness the world’s turmoil and our longing for the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6) who will set all things right.

But it is not merely in the world that he will set things to rights. It will also be in the church, his Body, his Bride. What is troubling is that if the King were to return right now, he would find his American church in deep turmoil, and split by allegiances penultimate to the King–political powers and parties, ideologies of race, disparities of wealth and poverty, deep differences around questions of gender and sexual orientation. The Christianity Today editorial calling for the president’s removal from office and the opposing fierce reactions that have filled my social media this past week are only the latest evidence of how deeply divided the American church is, and from what I can tell, how undisturbed we are with this state of affairs.

I wonder if we reflected on this last night as we gathered in our different churches for various forms of Christmas Eve celebrations, or this morning for Christmas Day services. How many of us considered that, in the midst of our war of words, we were celebrating, in common, if not together, the same Prince of Peace? This is the King who said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35, NIV). It is little wonder to me that record numbers of Millenials are turning away from Christian churches when they see the disparity between the words we mouth, and the way we really treat each other, and how undisturbed we seem to be about the divisions among us, let alone in the world.

I, for one, am deeply troubled by all of this. One reason I have chose not to comment on the CT editorial is that online comment only furthers those divisions, in my mind. It is not that I am trying to sit on the fence. I’m more interested in tearing down those fences. I fear the judgment from the Lord whose return I long for if we persist in the things that divide us. Instead of a church split in its allegiances to earthly powers, I long for a church united by our common allegiance to the Prince of Peace who is our peace and has torn down every dividing wall of hostility (Ephesians 2:14). I’m troubled when the national political agenda of one party or another is more important to the followers of Jesus than his global agenda for the nations.

There are steps that I need to take personally that I would commend for (at least) your consideration:

I want to be sure I am paying more attention to the Prince of Peace than to the human participants of our nation’s political drama. I’ve spoken far more about the latter than the former in the last years.
I want to re-double my prayers for those who lead. The reason we are to do so, stated in 1 Timothy 2:2, is that we might lead peaceable and quiet lives. I believe there are spiritual powers at work in our national political drama that are fostering discord, both in the nation and in the church. Do we believe in seeking the One who is above all heavenly or earthly powers to act?
I want to be sure that I am living in the story of the King rather than the stories spun in public media–whether on Twitter or Fox News or CNN. A test for me is whether I’m spending more time reading and meditating on and acting upon scripture than following the news and talking about it.
I will pursue political conversations with other believers, even those who differ with me, where there is a prior commitment to relationship, to the seeking of truth and justice with humility, and to prayer for one another and for our nation and world. This means most of those conversations will not be online. If you really care what I think politically, and are willing to commit with me to these practices, I’m glad to find a way to talk.
None of this means I will withdraw from seeking the common good in our society. What I want to do is to listen to God about where I should focus attention. I want to examine myself in whatever I pursue, that I seek peace, and as far as it is possible for me, to make friends, not enemies, even with those who disagree with me.
Finally, I want to live a life defined by the Great Command and the Great Commission–one defined by love of God and neighbor, and a love of Christ and his gospel that in life and word commends the excellence of the Prince of Peace to others.

I wonder if our political allegiances, whatever they are, have become so important because we have lost a sense of the excellence of the Prince of Peace, who we celebrate this day. While not ignoring the world around me, I want to get caught up in the story of the Prince of Peace. I wonder what would happen if believers from disparate factions of the American church were also caught up in this story? What would happen if this were the leading topic of our discourse with each other? I doubt it would resolve all our differences, but at least we might be reminded of what is truly precious to us all, the “pearl of great price,” and, as we catch each others eyes, we might say, “so you love him, too.” And in that moment, we might have at least a taste of the Peaceable Kingdom to come.

Review: The First and the Last: The Claim of Jesus Christ and the Claims of Other Religious Traditions

July 16, 2014July 16, 2014 / rtrube54 / 2 Comments

The First and the Last: The Claim of Jesus Christ and the Claims of Other Religious Traditions by George R. Sumner
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

One of the challenges of being a convinced Christian in a pluralistic society is how we engage with people from other religious traditions. Most thoughtful Christians neither want to just say, “Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life and you are wrong” nor do they want to say “you have your truth and I have mine and can’t we all get along?” The first statement fails to take the beliefs and truth claims of other religious adherents seriously. The second takes no one’s truth claims seriously. Both in fact are patronizing to the other party.

George R. Sumner’s book proposes a third way that considers the different strategies the church has used throughout history to address other religions and arrives at the standard of the “final primacy” of the person and work of Christ and then explores how other religions in some sense similar to the Old Testament anticipate or have points of connection with the Christian message. This effort seeks to take both the internal system of a particular faith seriously and acknowledge that there may be much of worth in that system while adhering to the person and work and claims of Christ as the final standard against which the claims of other traditions are measured.

Sumner tests this proposal in the theologies of Barth, Rahner, and Pannenberg, three of the twentieth century’s foremost theologians. He then follows this with a consideration of the economy of salvation, that is the working of Father, Son and Spirit in salvation and explores whether there is in fact a detectible Trinitarian logic to reality and to the human condition. He then explores how “final primacy” drives a theology of mission and explores the working out of final primacy in Indian theology and in theories of inculturation.

What I appreciated about Sumner was his nuanced approach to “redemptive analogies” and connections often made between Christianity and other faiths. He is not dismissive of these but he is also careful to distinguish genuine from merely perceived connections. He recognizes how critical appraising these things from within the logic of the other belief system is so that spurious connections are avoided and other faiths are truly understood on their own terms.

Many Christians refrain from inter-religious dialogue precisely because they believe to do so means that they must forfeit what is finally primary in their lives, their allegiance to Christ. Others are concerned to not offend believers of other faiths with Christian truth claims. The recognition of what is finally primary in Christian faith actually allows for the forthright discussion of “final primacy” for other religions that moves our conversations beyond niceties and vague commonalities. It takes the truth claims of each faith seriously rather than relativizing them and respects all the parties in a dialogue without asking any to compromise deeply held beliefs. At the same time, real, non-coercive dialogue has within it the possibility that one may grow in the understanding of another, or even become convinced of the truth claims of another. Sumner’s “essay” (his term) points us toward the substantive dialogue where these kinds of outcomes might be realized.

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