Ch7 – Faith in Podunk

Gay Marriage and the Separation of Church and State

Posted by Rev. Eric Elnes, PhD. in Ch5 - The Trickster Shows Up - Again!, Ch7 - Faith in Podunk on August 17, 2009

It’s good to be back from vacation, friends!  My family and I had a great time in Bandon, OR.  Sorry for not posting during that time, but I’ve gotten a lot better about making vacation a true vacation over the years …

Since the last subject I preached a (full) sermon on was homosexuality and the Bible, and the subject while I was away was Affirmation 7 and the separation of church and state, I thought it might be appropriate to post the article that Dr. Jim Keck (First Plymouth, Lincoln) and I wrote in the editorial section of the Omaha World-Herald last April concerning the Iowa Supreme Court decision on gay marriage.  It speaks to both topics!  By the way, I’ll be teaching a class on the Bible and homosexuality in September – one version on Sunday evenings at the church and another version theology-on-tap-style at Myth Lounge in the Old Market on Wednesday evenings.  Sign up at the Information Station on Sundays or call the church office (402-391-0350).  Now here’s the article:

An April 8 World Herald editorial regarding the recent ruling by the Iowa Supreme Court concerning gay marriage urged readers not to let debate on the issue “devolve into … ugliness and angry stereotyping.”  It also asked some important questions of Omaha’s clergy: “How will clergy advise their membership on how to deal with this? Will they be accepting of gay couples, or will those church or synagogue members need to go elsewhere to worship?”

As the pastors of large churches in Omaha and Lincoln, we thought we would take this newspaper up on its query.  This is how we would advise not only our congregations but any student of the Bible and the US Constitution:

According to the First Amendment, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”  Contrary to popular assumption, Christians overwhelmingly supported the adoption of this amendment, as they believed it to be vital for the protection of religion even more so than protection of the state.  By and large, we in the US have tried to hold true to this principle in all areas except one: marriage.

As opposed to certain European countries, where marriage is kept strictly separated into a civil function and a religious one, we combine them in the US without batting an eye.  For many couples in Europe, if they wish their marriage to be recognized by both the church and the state, they must receive a certificate of civil union issued by the state alone, and undergo a service of “holy matrimony” performed by the church alone.  For those with no desire for church or other religious recognition, the civil union certificate is all they need.  This arrangement recognizes that the state has an interest in marriage only in so far as it furthers civic interests, and that the church has an interest in marriage only in so far as it furthers theological interests.

In the US, where no legal differentiation exists between a civil marriage and holy matrimony, we place our clergy in the odd (and dare we say, unconstitutional) role of determining which relationships are in the state’s interest and which are not.  Similarly, the state is given implied authority to determine which relationships are blessed by God and which are not.

Consider the problem posed by Cal Thomas, whose column appeared on the same day as the World-Herald editorial.  In making his case that gay marriage is a “dangerous precedent,” he states that “the problem with the Iowa Court ruling is that it vitiates a standard that defined marriage as between two people of the opposite sex, which was God’s idea, not government’s (see Genesis 2:24), while failing to substitute a new standard.”

The fact that Genesis 2:24 makes no comment on the legal institution of marriage, and the fact that many God-honoring churches and synagogues in the US are in favor of gay marriage, are minor problems raised by his assertion, compared to the problem it raises for government.  Is it the government’s role to discern the mind of God?  And shall it pass laws based on its discernment?

The reason why debate on gay marriage tends to break down so quickly is because by failing to distinguish between the civic and religious functions of marriage, we give religious institutions and the state powers that do not properly reside with them, which they do not have the means to adequately arbitrate.

Realizing this Catch-22, some have suggested that gay people receive “civil unions,” reserving “marriage” to heterosexuals.  Yet while this solution at least recognizes the problem of mixing the functions of religion and government, it actually reinforces the problem.  The reasons for separating gay and straight relationships into civil unions and marriage remain strongly theologically based.

Until or unless the US adopts a stricter separation between civil and religious marriages that apply to all couples across the board, the best route through this issue is to allow states the ability to marry gays and religious institutions the right to marry or not marry them depending on their theological commitments.

This arrangement at least respects the fact that the First Amendment’ requires the free exercise of religion.   It recognizes that, assured of this freedom, some religious institutions will marry gay people and some won’t.  And by granting marriage licenses to both gay and straight couples alike, the state is protected from having to determine which marriages are blessed by God and which are not.

We feel the Iowa decision should be applauded by all religious people, regardless of their theological views on marriage, for it at least rebuilds a section of the wall that protects not only the state from religion, but religion from the state.

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Let Evening Come

Posted by Rev. Eric Elnes, PhD. in Affirmation 11 - Rest, Recreation & Body, Ch7 - Faith in Podunk on July 19, 2009

In response to last Sunday’s service, in which the implications of the Hebrew notion of day beginning with night were explored, a Countrysider sent me the following poem, which fits the theme well.

“Let Evening Come” by Jane Kenyon (from Otherwise: New and Selected Poems)

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yearn.  Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass.  Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down.  Let the shed
go black inside.  Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid.  God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.

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Who is Jesus for me?

Posted by Rev. Eric Elnes, PhD. in Affirmation 11 - Rest, Recreation & Body, Ch7 - Faith in Podunk, Phoenix Affirmations on July 10, 2009

One of the groups studying Asphalt Jesus asked the following question: “Would love your response to the first discussion question for chapter 7, “Who is Jesus for you?” We’re curious about the part of the question that asks us to think about whether we respond to the Jesus of history or the Christ of present experience….and the suggestion that we consider both perspectives. Can you share your thoughts?”

Like the Rev. Jene Miller in Arnett, Oklahoma (from Ch. 7 of Asphalt Jesus), the question to me is not “Is Jesus God?” but “Is God like Jesus?”  To me, the answer is, “Amen, yes!”  Everything else one has to say about Jesus or any other aspect of Christian theology is small potatoes next to this affirmation.  But I’m happy to put some meat (or at least sour cream and chives) on this big potato.

Let’s start with the most basic:

Jesus is a person of history.  His history not only includes his own life on earth, but he has become a part of the lives of a great many people – those who lived in his day and those who would come after.  He is a part of my history.   His story is embedded in mine.  He is not simply a person of the ancient past, therefore, but of the present.  My present.  If the word “Christ” refers to an aspect of Jesus that continues to live on beyond his mortal death, I can wholeheartedly affirm that Jesus is Christ even on this most basic of levels, for his story has become central in my story.

Why has Jesus become central?  Because I meet God in Jesus.  I’ve had both personal and communal experiences that suggest (and sometimes even insist) that there really is a God, a God who is actually aware of you and me, and who interacts internally with us, spirit to spirit, loving us beyond our wildest imagination.  These experiences “look like” the Jesus I regularly encounter in the gospels.  This fact has led me to conclude that Jesus is one who was “full of God.”  Or in the apostle Paul’s words, “God was in Christ.”

Based on this conclusion, I have also been able to work the flow the other way.  That is, I not only can find the tenor and tone of my God-experiences in the Jesus of scripture, but I can count on this same Jesus to regularly steer me in the direction of future God-experiences where I have not expected to find them.  For instance, the Jesus of scripture, who hangs out with the tax collectors, prostitutes, and “sinners,” including “sinners” known as scribes and Pharisees, regularly leads me into experiencing God in and through people I might ordinarily have written off.  In this respect, I meet my neighbor through Jesus - that part of my neighbor that bears God’s mark even amidst all the other marks that may be upon them.  I hear God whispering in the struggles of drug addicts and derelicts, of adulterers and anarchists.  I also can find God whispering at times in the angry voices of legalistic fundamentalists (And I can use Jesus’ voice to help me discern when the “word of the Lord” is not to be found in these voices as well!).  To allude to our weekly blessing at the conclusion of worship, in Jesus, God has often pushed me into places I would not necessarily go myself.  So I pay attention to Jesus.  Close attention.

Another reason I pay attention is because Jesus exhibits a generosity of spirit that leads me out of my stinginess; a graciousness that moves me beyond my judgmentalism; a depth and breadth of creative engagement with life that takes hold of me and pulls me beyond rigidity and narrowness; a courageousness that raises me from timidity; a humility that takes the hot air out of my pride.  These qualities and many more have led me to conclude that I meet myself Jesus – my truest self. It’s the part of me that seeks to move beyond my Pinocchio woodenness and know what flesh-and-blood existence is really meant to be.  Jesus helps me become more fully human even as he points me to the divine.

So, is this person in whom I regularly meet my God, my neighbor, and myself, “the Jesus of history” or “the Christ of faith”?  My answer, of course, is “yes” regardless of what is essential nature may be (i.e., his essence – whether fully God, fully human, or both).  What I’ve stated above is equally true whether Jesus was a mortal human like you and me or the second member of the Trinity who existed before the beginning of all things and will be forevermore.

During Countryside’s “Theology on Tap” sessions this past year, I have have been asked, in a number of different ways, not simply what I believe about Jesus but what any Christian “should” believe about Jesus.  I have stated that it really doesn’t matter to me what someone believes about Jesus with respect to whether he was mortal, divine, or both.  What I care about is finding folks who seek a fuller understanding and experience of God, neighbor, and self, in and through Jesus regardless of the conclusions they draw with respect to his nature, and even regardless of how comfortable they feel with the label “Christian.”  If they’re willing to throw their hat in with Jesus on this level, they’re worth banding together with to form a community of spirit and faith.

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Fourth of July and Affirmation 11

Posted by Rev. Eric Elnes, PhD. in Affirmation 11 - Rest, Recreation & Body, Ch7 - Faith in Podunk on July 4, 2009

Tomorrow in church one of my reflections on Affirmation 11 of the Phoenix Affirmations will be based on this blog post.  I’m also going to show this video to illustrate another reflection.  So if you’re reading this before Sunday, be forewarned!

A Fourth of July Remembrance

I grew up on Mercer Island, near Seattle, in the middle of Lake Washington.  Each year on the Fourth of July, I looked forward to a particular family tradition, which was to pack a picnic dinner and head to the back yard of the Mercer Island Presbyterian Church.  We weren’t members, but the church had the advantage of being perched atop a hill that overlooked the downtown fireworks display, so lots of the Island community would gather there.

The fireworks wouldn’t get going until around ten in the evening, and if you wanted to get a good spot, you had to get there early – hence the picnic dinner.  We’d spread out a big, pink blanket that embarrassed the heck out of me.  Then my parents and whatever of their friends happened to show up would sit down and enjoy a glass of wine or soda while my brother and I ran off to the playground looking for our friends.

We could usually count on a handful or so to show up.  God help us on years they didn’t.  Hanging out with just adults was NO FUN!  But when friends came, we would play Frisbee or tag.  We also would wind each other tight on the swings, spinning around at what seemed like a million miles an hour, then jumping off fast and try to run without falling on our faces.  We’d look for garter snakes to terrorize in the grass at the edge of the playground.  We’d play in the sand box – at least until the year we found cat feces buried in it. And as we grew older, we’d “casually” eye the girls.

At some point, a parent would call us for dinner.  Usually we were so wrapped up in play that one of us would yell “Okay!” and then we’d get right back to our games until a parent would come stomping up to the playground to march us back to the blanket.

According to the book of Deuteronomy, the ancient Hebrews, like us, celebrated their origins as a people each year.  They were commanded – by God they believed – to bring to the party copious amounts of food and drink, including wine and beer.  The goal, according to Deuteronomy, was to “feast in the Presence of God, your God, and have a good time.” (Deut 26:26).

There wasn’t a grill in the church’s back yard, so often our fare was fried chicken, potato salad, deviled eggs, pitted black olives, celery sticks lined with Velveeta “cheese,” watermelon, and Hershey’s chocolate bars.  It may not have been the feast of the ancient Hebrews, but there was something about eating outside on the grass under the heavens, with friends around and excitement in the air, that made the food taste like a royal banquet.  I always liked to grab a handful of the olives, insert one on the tip of each finger, and eat them one by one like Caesar being fed grapes by an attendant.  I’d try to eat them slowly, but usually they’d be gone in a matter of moments and I’d have to reload a couple of times.  If my parents caught me reloading, they’d get after me, so I’d have to exercise greater degrees of stealth as the evening wore on.

Eventually, the meal would end and we’d have a half hour or so to let it all settle before the fireworks began. Actually seeing fireworks was considered somewhat of a lucky thing for us residents of the rain-soaked Pacific Northwest.  We rarely knew whether or not we’d be seeing fireworks for sure until late in the day, if not just before they began – like this year in Omaha.  When the weather cooperated, there would always be a healthy measure of gratitude (and relief) mixed in with the spectacle.  You could almost hear people around you thinking, “We are so fortunate this year …”

Once I remember one of the nearby parents (thank goodness no one we knew)  singing “America the Beautiful” to his little girl as the fireworks began.  He was totally singing the wrong words and had no idea.  My brother and I tried not to blow Coca Cola through our noses as we struggled to suppress our laughter.

Another year, I remember asking someone why there were fireworks on the Fourth of July to begin with.  I was told that they were made to imitate explosions from bombs and missiles on a battlefield.  I thought it rather strange that something so beautiful and awe-inspiring could find its origin in death and destruction.  Little did I know that I would, in later years, find this same commingling of wonder and death in the central symbol of Christian faith.

Although we gathered on the grounds of a church, focusing our gaze on joy bursting in the heavens, I do not remember being particularly cognizant of being “in the Presence of God” as the ancient Hebrews understood it.  I just remember being in the company of family and good friends, playing outside, laughing until we were out of breath, and feeling as satiated by gratitude and joy as I was by chicken and chocolate.

Is it possible to experience God’s presence without being aware of that presence?  The only thing I can say for sure is that those July 4th celebrations of my youth were experiences I’d want to be a part of if I were God.

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A thought on Affirmation 11

Posted by Rev. Eric Elnes, PhD. in Affirmation 11 - Rest, Recreation & Body, Ch7 - Faith in Podunk on July 3, 2009

This weekend we begin looking at Affirmation 11 of the Phoenix Affirmations, which asserts that “Christian love of self includes caring for our bodies and insisting on taking time to enjoy the benefits of prayer, reflection, worship, and recreation in addition to work.”  Essentially, Affirmation 11 is about sabbath-keeping – a concept not limited only to taking a day off per week, but to a whole lifestyle that moves beyond a utilitarian so-called “Protestant work ethic” into a creative engagement with spaciousness in life, enabling us to set our lives against and within a larger picture.

One of the comments that David Whyte made on our first morning together as a group in northern England engages Affirmation 11 well.  He observed that “most people are a good 4-5 years the curve of their own transformation.”  They haven’t paid enough attention to the conversation they’re subconsciously having with life (“Faith” he says, “is measured by the depth to which one pays attention.”).  Consequently, people tend to be unaware of the dominant questions and themes they themselves are posing and responding to.  David encouraged each of us to “allow for a good bit of silence to find out who it is who is sitting here.”

Affirmation 11 is about being more intentional about engaging our life’s conversation playfully and seriously.

Who is sitting before your computer screen right now?

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