Friday, March 17, 2023

St. Patrick: The Christ-follower Behind The Legend

 Once again, St. Patrick’s Day is upon us. While we commemorate the patron saint of the Emerald Isle, we should pause for a moment to thoughtfully consider: Who was this man? 

Legends about Patrick abound; but truth is best served by our seeing two solid qualities in him: He was humble and he was courageous. The determination to accept suffering and success with equal indifference guided the life of God’s instrument for winning most of Ireland for Christ. 

Details of his life are uncertain. Current research places his dates of birth and death a little later than earlier accounts. Patrick may have been born in Dunbarton, Scotland, Cumberland, England, or in northern Wales. He called himself both a Roman and a Briton. At 16, he and a large number of his father’s slaves and vassals were captured by Irish raiders and sold as slaves in Ireland. Forced to work as a shepherd, he suffered greatly from hunger and cold. 

After six years, Patrick escaped, probably to France, and later returned to Britain at the age of 22. His captivity had meant spiritual conversion. . . . His great desire was to proclaim the Good News to the Irish. 

In a dream vision it seemed “all the children of Ireland from their mothers’ wombs were stretching out their hands” to him. He understood the vision to be a call to do mission work in pagan Ireland. Despite opposition from those who felt his education had been defective, he was sent to carry out the task. He went to the west and north, where the faith had never been preached, obtained the protection of local kings and made numerous converts. 

He suffered much opposition from pagan druids and was criticized in both England and Ireland for the way he conducted his mission. 

In a relatively short time, the island had experienced deeply the Christian spirit, and was prepared to send out missionaries whose efforts were greatly responsible for Christianizing Europe.1 

I like the opening observation that he had two “solid qualities,” viz. humility and courage. Oh, that we would have such solid qualities of heart and soul! 

It is further observed, 

Patrick was a humble, pious, gentle man, whose love and total devotion to and trust in God should be a shining example to each of us. So complete was his trust in God, and of the importance of his mission, he feared nothing—not even death.2 

Here we discover the bedrock of his exemplary character: love for, total devotion to, and complete confidence in God. This is not the way of the world—and look at the rotting fruits of godless living and thinking! 

But Jesus calls us to a different Way than that of the world. He says, Follow Me. 

Will we do this? Will we trust Him and His Way in every aspect of our lives? I assure you, following Jesus and His Way is the greatest privilege we will ever have in this life or in the life to come. 

I leave you with a prayerful verse penned by St. Patrick. 

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

___________________________________________

1http://www.americancatholic.org/Features/Saints/saint.aspx?id=1325 

2http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=89

 

Thursday, February 9, 2023

Little Kid With a BIG Finger

He was slight and slender. He couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8. He was on his knees in the middle of Wal-Mart. I never heard his voice, but his lips snarled and his eyes flamed as his middle finger fiercely accosted the woman I assumed to be his mother. 

The image is indelibly imprinted in my mind… 

I remember striding towards him and making eye contact. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment or shame in his eyes as I passed by—just rage. 

I had three reflexive thoughts. 

The first was—well never mind about that thought.  

The second thought was a question: I wonder where he learned to give someone the finger—anyone much less his mom. 

Now, in all fairness it may very well be the case that he discovered this from her. (Moms have been known to model such things to their children.) Maybe it was his father or some other relative. Perhaps friends or TV or movies are to be blamed. 

Obviously, we’ll never know where he learned it, but of this we can be certain: He did learn it. That is, flipping the bird isn’t instinctual. It comes from environment not instinct. 

Environment brings me to my third thought. 

This kid’s actions incriminate a larger society than just his little world. Anger, vulgarity, and entitlement describe the ever-darkening spirit threatening American culture today. How else to explain the coarse insanities of politics, arts, and religion? 

Children aren’t the only people who inhabit angry little worlds. 

In 2008 Os Guinness observed, 

Beyond any doubt, the United States in the last generation has suffered a serious breakdown in public civility that is the result of an even more serious decline in the quality of American common life. . . . 

The symptoms of the collapse of public life are widespread . . . the shrinking of a book-and-newspaper-reading public, the growth of gated communities and constant surveillance, the rise of political primaries and the weakening of political parties, the decline of elections into public-relations contests, the degradation of political deliberation and debate . . . the rise of political dynasties and celebrity candidates . . . the appearance of billionaire politicians . . . the exponential growth of secrecy and classified documents.1 

The above words—in case you missed it—are around 15 years old. What could Guinness write 15 years hence? And what kind of man will this little kid with the big finger be then and what sort of world will he inhabit? 

Thankfully, the boy and the world will not necessarily be worse in the future. All things change and not all change is bad. 

Speaking of positive change…

Wouldn’t it be nice if the church stopped mirroring the angry world back to itself?
 

Presently, too many self-identified Christians reflect the posture of this half-pint hooligan: they are on their knees firing angry fingers at anyone who crosses them.

 Peace for an angry world cannot come from a raging church. 

Jesus bids us: “Follow me.” 

So, let’s do that. 

After all, the Prince of Peace is the savior of all worlds—even the little angry ones in a pew near you. 

____________________________

 1 Os Guiness, The Case for Civility, p.p. 81-82

 

Monday, October 24, 2022

The Myth Of A "Christian Nationalism"

Years ago, I read a book that challenged nearly every lofty ideal of American mythology I had imbibed since early childhood. And while I’ve grown to appreciate it, angry protestations indelibly inscribed in its margins display my then offended sensibilities. 

Thankfully, I could shelve the book but not its claims and questions… 

Did Jesus ever suggest by word or example that we should aspire to acquire, let alone take over, the power of Caesar? Did Jesus spend any time and energy trying to improve, let alone dominate, the reigning government of his day? Did he ever work to pass laws against the sinners he hung out with and ministered to? … 

America as a nation has clearly never looked remotely like Jesus. There was nothing distinctively Christlike about the way America was “discovered,” conquered, or governed in the early years. … 

…a significant segment of American evangelicalism is guilty of nationalistic and political idolatry. …I believe many of us American evangelicals have allowed our understanding of the kingdom of God to be polluted with political ideals, agendas, and issues. (Greg Boyd, The Myth of A Christian Nation) 

Greg’s book was so well received it split his church in half. I should also mention the book was written in 2006. Do I really need to say it? Things have precipitously devolved since its publication. 

The downward spiral is evidenced in the rise of so-called “Christian Nationalism”—what I call Americianity. (I’m not of the opinion that “Christian Nationalism” is ascending per se, rather I think it’s more a situation of an existing ideology being exposed, embraced, and extoled.) 

It seems to me the myth of a Christian nation emerges from an equally mythical “Christian Nationalism.” 

At this point perhaps it would be helpful to define nationalism. 

My understanding of nationalism is this: Fundamentalistic and ideological devotion to a particular narrative regarding the past, present, and future of one's country/nation/empire and its role in the world 

Please note it is unquestioning zeal for a story, not for a country or nation. In this regard nationalism is very much distinguishable from patriotism. 

Patriotism is love and pride for one’s country/nation—warts and all. Nationalism is allegiance to an unblemished narrative, no warts at all. Thus, the “Christian Nationalist” badgers school boards, not over history, but over the narrative of history. 

What story are we telling ourselves? Not, is it true? But is it what I believe? 

These are two very different questions.  

“Christian Nationalism” is loyalty to a narrative not a nation. Thus, “Christian Nationalists” so frequently and cavalierly call for civil war. 

They fantasize that they are willing and capable of destroying the actual country in which they live for the fairytale-kingdom residing in their minds. 

The “Christian Nationalist’s” most hated enemies? 

Their fellow citizens who don’t subscribe to their story. 

It’s this fervent despising of perceived enemies—fellow Americans—and this devotion to non-factual narratives that lead me to use scare quotes around “Christian Nationalism.” 

Don’t get me wrong. 

Nationalism is very real. Christian nationalism is a myth. (This, despite its being practiced and propagated by pulpit and pen among the churched!) 

I no more believe in “Christian Nationalism” than “Christian Naziism” or “Christian Marxism.” 

The “Christian Nationalist’s” words and ways are an indisputable revelation: They don't love their country too much; they love it way too little.  

There’s nothing Christian about that

The Jesus-way is the narrow way of love, especially love for one’s enemies. (I say especially because Jesus teaches us that love for one’s family and friends is perfectly natural and is in no sense meritorious, e.g., Matthew 5:46.) Therefore, the Jesus-follower is called to love her country. Truly, deeply love it.   

Yet the Jesus-way is also the way of the Kingdom of God above all other kingdoms. Clearly, this is antithetical to the “Christian Nationalist's” mantra of **America First. 

Jesus isn’t American, and his Kingdom is not the USA. 

The Jesus-way is nowhere more explicitly expounded than in his masterful oration known as The Sermon on the Mount. In Anabaptist tradition, being formed by the Sermon on the Mount is what it means to be Christian. I can think of no greater antithesis to the myth of a “Christian Nationalism” than the truth of Jesus’ teachings. 

The myth of a “Christian Nationalism” vs. the truth the Jesus-way: I’m fully aware there are fallacious binaries and false dichotomies…but this ain’t one of them.  

 ____________________

**America First is not a reference to the actual country, but to the nationalist’s fanciful vision or revision of what the country once was and should be again.

Thursday, October 6, 2022

How Big Is God?

 After Sunday morning worship several years ago, a father brought his four-year-old son to me with this query: How big is God? At this time I also learned that this tot-philosopher referred to me, not as “Pastor Steve,” but “the Captain.” (Yes, Dead Poet’s Society immediately sprang to mind.) 

How big is God? This is a good and logical question. 

I asked the child to engage in an experiment with me: “Waive your hand really fast!” He heartily complied. “Did you feel something on your skin as you waived?” I asked. He said he did. I told him that what he felt was air. 

His dad helpfully suggested that he take a deep breath and then informed him that that too was air. I told him that though he couldn’t see it, the air is everywhere.

I then instructed him to look to the ceiling and asked if he could see the light. Yes, He could see the light! I then explained that the bulb, was in the ceiling, but the light was everywhere in the room—if it wasn’t we couldn’t see anything. 

I asked him to look through the window at trees across the road. Could he see them? Yes, he could! He offered, “The light’s out there too!” Indeed. There is no sight without light. 

I then brought the object lesson to a conclusion: “When you think of how ‘big’ God is I don’t want you to think of Him as being ‘big’ like your dad. I want you to think of Him as being ‘big’ like the air and the light. God is everywhere.” 

I had instinctively “hunkered down” a little as I conversed with the boy, and as I was straightening my posture, a thought came to me: I have just conveyed a deep and marvelous truth in such a way that even a child can understand it… 

My much too confident reverie, my naïveté, was cut short with three impish words. 

“Is He fat?”

 Move along, kid. You’re starting to bug the Captain.

Wednesday, September 28, 2022

Christ & Conspiracy

Isn’t it alarming how so many have fallen under the sway of conspiracy theories over the past few of years? 

The anti-intellectual and anti-scientific mindset, with the concomitant fear, rage, and tribalism is mindboggling. I’ve said repeatedly that it feels like we’re living in the 50’s—not the 1950s mind you, but the 1250s. 

Even so, while conspiracy theories are nothing new, a world-wide web coupled with what was a world-wide pandemic renders them virulent and viral. 

Perhaps you’re wondering what exactly constitutes a conspiracy theory. (If you weren’t, maybe you are now.) 

Presently, I’m defining conspiracy theory thus: Non-factual explanation of real-world and/or fictional events based upon misinformation and/or disinformation, suspicion, and spurious authority. 

Yeah…that’s not clunky at all. 

But defining “conspiracy theory” is one thing. Deconstructing such a theory within the minds of the mesmerized is quite another. (It’s akin to nailing Jell-O to a wall or taking the color out of a sweaty glass of orange Kool-Aid.) 

Now, I know there are many millions of people living in the unreality of conspiracy theory. But I am particularly concerned for those who do so while self-identifying as “evangelical.” 

Why? 

Primarily because these folks claim to follow the One who said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” How can one follow the Christ of Truth while living in conspiracy theory untruth? Dear reader, it can’t be done. 

Consequently, many evangelicals are jettisoning the Christ of Truth for a “Christ” of fantasy who fits their delusion—more than fits it, he baptizes it and makes it “holy.” 

This religious element is one of several components which makes treating those infected with conspiracy theory so difficult. It’s heart-breaking because subsisting in illusion has real-world repercussions. Marriages, families, friends, and churches are blowing apart. 

Few things are more volatile than radicalized fundamentalists who engage in total-war “for the country,” always on the side of the angels. 

This is a fact not a theory. A fact as unassailable as it is unnecessary. 

In the final analysis, I believe our culture is in the throes of a crisis of authority. Sadly, this crisis is not corrected, but rather reflected, by much of what passes for Christianity in America. 

I offer no easy answer. (If I had one…I would.) But I do say that truth comes from Jesus Christ. Not the one made in America. The one born of the Virgin. 

So, hold tightly to Him—the Jesus of the Gospels—and loosely to everything else. As we begin following Jesus, not just believing in him, the Holy Spirit will be forming us into the kind of people who can actively stride towards loving others as we love ourselves; for the Christ of truth is also the Christ of love.   

And when it comes to cultic conspiracy theorists, perhaps love is more disarming than facts. Maybe that’s true for all of us. 

In the end…love wins. It’s not black and white. It’s not quick, simple, or easy. But the Way of Jesus rarely is.

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

God & Kenny Wallace

Waaay back in 2017, Shelly and I enjoyed a baseball game at Busch Stadium (aka, “Baseball Heaven”) with some dear friends of ours. 

Midway through the game, a gentleman struck up a conversation with my pal and we began to talk shop about Cardinals baseball. (Yes, I butted in because I’m friendly like that.) 

Before long the game got exciting and we were all reveling in the thrill of victory. It was a glorious day, dear reader! 

As we were leaving the parking garage my friend said, “Man, that guy looked familiar. It was his mannerisms and the way he talked. I feel like I’ve seen him before…” 

A few days later he realized who it was: retired NASCAR driver, Kenny Wallace. 

(After a Cardinals walk-off grand slam, a jubilant Kenny shot this video. If you stare without blinking, you can almost see us behind his wife and him.) 

What? 

I was yelling, laughing, and high-fiving with Kenny Wallace? I hadn’t a clue! But how could I possibly have known?    

I’d heard of him, but I don’t follow NASCAR. I’d never seen his face. I wasn’t expecting to run into a racecar driver, and it wasn’t like he was bedecked in a logo-laden jumpsuit or something. Kenny was incognito.

 So, again, how could I possibly have known? 

Oh, I suppose he could’ve made a simple announcement: “I’m NASCAR driver, Kenny Wallace.” And knowing nothing of cars and racing I would’ve said what? Hey...thanks for driving so fast in all those circles and such? 

Nevertheless, the encounter made me think. 

My mind raced to C.S. Lewis. (See what I did there?) 

We do know that no man can be saved except through Christ; we do not know that only those who know Him can be saved through Him. (Mere Christianity, p. 50) 

My premise is this: It’s entirely possible to meaningfully interact with and connect to another person whom one does not actually know. I’ve experienced it. I’ll bet you have too. 

If this is possible with a human person, is it reasonable to think that it’s possible with a divine one? 

It not only seems plausible; it appears highly likely—perhaps even necessary—that one could experience and relate to God without knowing who He truly is. 

Of course, there’s a big difference between Kenny & us and God & us. 

I didn’t know Kenny and Kenny didn’t know me. (I’m imagining Kenny reading this right now and exclaiming: “I didn’t know that was Steve Griffin!”) 

But God knows the one who doesn’t know Him—and He loves this person immensely. Upon what levels does God mercifully and graciously relate to those who sincerely, yet ignorantly, interact with Him? Doesn’t He lovingly stoop for us all?   

To be sure, Jesus is humanity’s hope of salvation. He’s our way to the Father and He’s the Father’s way to us. 

We call it “good news.” 

Maybe it’s even better than we think…

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Anybody Home?

Are we really at home anywhere? Because it seems to me that to be at home somewhere means to be at peace somewhere, and I have a feeling at some deep level there can really be no real peace for any of us. No real home for any of us until there’s some measure of real peace for everybody . . . until everybody has a home. . . . 

When we close our eyes to the needs of other people, whether they live on this side of the world or the other side, or under our own roofs, when we close our eyes to their needs, and thus to our own deep needs, we can never really be at home anywhere. (Frederick Buechner, The Remarkable Ordinary, pp. 113,114) 

To be at home is to be at peace. But what does it mean to be at peace? 

One way of understanding peace is as a quality or disposition. In this sense peace is the inner rest, tranquility, and quietness that comes from trusting God with all outcomes, so that we don’t need to constantly strive to control or manipulate people or events. 

I think it’s this view of peace the apostle Paul has in mind when he writes of enjoying peace as a result of the Holy Spirit’s influence within the heart and mind. 

Another understanding of peace is as a state of well-being that is characterized by compassion and justice. I think this is what Buechner is talking about, don’t you? 

When we think about it in this second sense we are acknowledging that peace—like most everything God does—is too big for individual containers. There are breakouts and spillovers. 

Said another way, the God-given peace that our creator desires for us is built on compassion and justice, where everything and everyone in the created order is in right relationship with each other and can reach their God-given potential. 

This is peace for one and peace for all. 

This is what Jesus calls us to live in and work for. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God,” (Mtt. 5:9). 

No more fear. No more anger. No more “us vs. them.” No more closing our eyes to the needs of other people. From Christ’s peace within, we seek God’s peace without.  

I’m put in mind of C.S. Lewis: “Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.” 

I’m not talking about “home” in some other or future world. Here—in this world—Jesus calls us to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with Him. 

He’s showing us the Way. But we’re not there yet, kids…