Lord, grant me chastity and continence, but not just yet.St. Augustine of Hippo

Advent is a season of preparation to welcome the birth of God in our midst. This Church season then has been marked traditionally by a time of repentance in the lives of Christ’s disciples. Indeed, the Scriptures of Advent shout out for us to repent, to change our whole way of thinking and acting so we might be a vessel for God’s mission in the world.

Of course, while we engage in such spiritual work we’re surrounded by a so-called “season of giving” where we try to be less Scrooge-like compared to the rest of the year. We assuage our consciences by collecting canned goods or volunteering here or there during this “season.” This gives us internal permission to check off the box that says: “I am a generous person.” But, I’m not interested in a seasonal harangue. Too many of us use this time of the year to judge others for not celebrating the real “reason for the season.” We can hardly expect others to do so when we’re so confused ourselves about what God becoming flesh means to our own lives as disciples of Jesus.

And that brings us to Blessed Augustine. He, maybe more than any saint of the Church, personally lays it all out there. His desire to repent and take on Christian virtues, two of which he names as chastity and continence, but not just yet, is as honest as it comes. And if we’re honest as well, we do the same thing, especially during this season of repentance. So, we might ask God, for example, to grant us the virtue of generosity. Or, it could be another virtue like forgiving others, but let’s just stay with this seasonal virtue of generosity. We ask God then to help us become more generous. And we wait and we wait and we wait. And it never seems to come. We then shrug our shoulders, move on, and conclude that it might never happen.

There’s a story of an old priest who retires after nearly 50 years of serving poor mission churches. He asks God each morning as he says the Daily Office to allow him to win the Super Lotto so he’ll be more comfortable in his retirement. He prays this each day for a month. Nothing happens. He never wins the lottery. So, one morning while praying he cries in loud voice: “Lord, I served you for nearly 50 years and now I’d like some comfort. Why won’t you do this one thing for me?” Total silence. But then a loud voice from Heaven shouts: “Buy a lottery ticket, you fool, buy a lottery ticket!”

In our repentance, if we desire the virtue of generosity, then we should start by really practicing generosity. If we practice it again and again, well wake up one day and discover we’ve become a more generous person, not all the time (we are, after all, sinners), but much more so than we had been before. The same is true for other virtues that are a part of our repentance. If we want to be more forgiving, then we should start regularly forgiving others. When it comes to repentance, we “live in our heads” way too much. We overly spiritualize what it’s all about, which means we probably will never actually do it. And the new year will come and we’ll wonder why we never seem to grow much as disciples of Jesus Christ. For the love of Christ: “Buy a ticket!”

+Scott

 

Time To Wake Up (eCrozier #242)

At the beginning of Advent, Jesus says to us in Mark’s Gospel: “What I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.” He’s assuming that we’re already awake, so he admonishes to remain so. We need to be wide awake if we’re to pay attention to what God is up to in the world. But we’re not awake. We’re asleep. And it’s time to wake up. Things are being done in our name while we’re drowsing. People working for us are causing the deaths of young black men for crimes hardly deserving death.

There’s a pattern here and it can’t be comfortable for us to acknowledge. Young black men are at a far greater risk of being killed by police than young white men in similar circumstances: 21 times greater! This is according to ProPublica’s analysis of federally collected data on fatal police encounters. There were 1,217 deadly police encounters from 2010 to 2012 collected in the federal database. The data show that black young men, age 15 to 19, were killed by law enforcement officers at a rate of 31.17 per million, while just 1.47 per million white young men in that age group faced the same fate.

I’m not interested in arguing anyone’s guilt or innocence. I assume that in nearly all of these cases, white and black, the young men were guilty of some infraction of the law, or at least they were reasonably suspected of it when their death occurred. So let’s take that off the table for consideration. Michael Brown, who was shot dead in Ferguson, Missouri, was no saint. He apparently robbed a convenience store of some cigars prior to being shot by Officer Wilson. But cigar robbery is hardly a capital crime.

And Eric Garner, who died this past July by being choked to death by a police officer, was apparently guilty of selling cigarettes illegally. Again, hardly a capital crime. Yet both he and Michael Brown are dead. And there are many more. The data clearly shows that if you’re a young black man you’re 21 times more likely to end up dead through an encounter with police than if you’re a white young man. That’s a statistical Sanctus Bell. We need to wake up.

What does it say about us as a people when a grand jury this past Wednesday failed to find anyone indictable in Eric Garner’s death? When confronted by police for allegedly selling cigarettes illegally, this unarmed young man was put in a chokehold against the police’s own policy standards. All of this was captured on video. He’s heard saying his last words: “I can’t breathe.” The coroner, an official of the state, legally ruled Mr. Garner’s death as a homicide. So a homicide occurred, but no one is indicted? No one is accountable? Are we still asleep?

Let me be clear: I don’t blame the police. They have a very difficult and dangerous vocation. They’re all formed and shaped by the ethos and culture in which they were raised and by the training they receive as police officers. They’re not the problem, per se. We’re the problem. I blame all of us: Me, you, everyone. No finger-pointing elsewhere. This is our problem to solve and solve it we must for the good of our own souls and for our well-being as a people. We’ve been asleep. It’s time to wake up.

+Scott

 

Advent is “John the Baptist time.” John is Ad­vent personified. Like Advent, John’s mission is to prepare the way of the Lord so we’re ready to receive Jesus as he comes into the world. John appears on the biblical stage seeming to come out of nowhere. John, however, was no outsider. He was the son of a temple priest in Jerusalem. But John rejected his temple insider status and left the city for the wilderness. Instead of the prayer shawl of a temple priest, he clothed himself in camel hair and leather. Today that may sound fashionable, but John wasn’t clothed in a camel hair blazer from Brooks Brothers or a Gucci leather belt. In John’s day this was the clothing of the poor.

John is no more welcomed by us today than he was by the Pharisees and Sadducees who first went out to the Jordan River to hear him preach. John’s arrival interrupts our holiday juggernaut when he insists that there’s a direct connection between our own repentance and the forgiveness of our sins. The muzak in the background of our lives at this time of year is playing “jingle bells,” so we aren’t prepared to hear John’s very insistent voice. Consequently, Advent isn’t a good time to invite our secular friends to Church because most are uninitiated in the ways of John the Baptist and Advent. They may come expecting the good cheer of Christmas and be shocked by John the Baptist. Who wants to be called “a brood of vipers” right before Santa comes?

A friend of mine once proposed a way of bringing John the Baptist and the holidays together. He suggested “John the Baptist Christmas Cards.” On the front there’d be a gnarly picture of John with his wild, unkempt hair and beard, clad in camel’s hair and leather. He’d just be staring wildly at you from the card. Inside the card would simply read: “Bear fruit worthy of repentance! Seasons Greetings and Happy Holidays from John the Baptist” I think that Christmas card would sell like hotcakes, don’t you?

In all seriousness, it is all about our repentance. At Christmas God drops his own son into our laps and says: “Here’s the undeserved gift of my baby boy. You didn’t ask for him, but he’s all yours. Do what you want with this Christmas gift of my son.” And, of course, years later we took God up on that offer on Calvary, didn’t we? And the Good News (actually the stupendous news) is that God loves us in spite of this by using the sacrifice of his son on the cross to seal that love forever. We call that Grace.

But we can’t fully understand this grace apart from our repentance. People often have the misguided notion that repentance is about being sorry for one’s sins. Repentance isn’t about being sorry. It’s about changing how we understand the world so we begin to live life bearing the fruit of grace. The world can only be truly comprehended through the lens of God’s grace. It’s nonsensical otherwise. That’s why John links repentance with the forgiveness of sins. We can’t understand forgiveness until we change how we understand life. Until then, we may only see forgiveness as something nice people do so they can be nice to others. But forgiveness is a much more powerful spiritual force than that. Forgiveness is the fruit of grace made possible by the cross of Jesus. It’s the way God provides for us so we can learn to practice God’s very nature in our daily lives.

+Scott

 

Virtues aren’t values we hold. Values are mutable because they represent commitments we hold in relationship to other ones. Values have a price tag. We always weigh the cost of holding one value in relationship to another. Virtues, however, are ways of being we hold immutably. Virtues like generosity, compassion, and gratitude thus can’t be values we hold. They’re ways of being in the world. For example, we can’t “value” compassion. We either live compassionately or we do not. Christianity then is less a set of beliefs we hold as it is a way of being we embody. Church doctrine, therefore, isn’t put before us so we’re challenged to believe it. Rather, it’s the truth of the faith we Christians live.

This short primer on virtues and values is a necessary a priori step before we can reflect upon and examine the value of choice, because in our culture it seems we have elevated having choice to a virtue. The ability to choose whatever we want has become a de facto right. This in part explains certain shopper’s reactivity during the “Holiday Shopping Season” when they aren’t able to choose the product they want to buy because someone else got there first. They see it as their right to get what they want.

This “season” we’re in has its own set of bumper sticker scriptures like “born to shop,” “shop until you drop,” and “the one who dies with the most toys wins!” These secular scriptures represent the great invitation for choice during this “Holiday Season.” Yet, we don’t stop to question such things because we’ve already bought (that particular verb used intentionally) into the assumption that choice is a virtuous right. By challenging such contentions I’m open to the charge that I’m somehow against “our very way of life,” whatever that means. Consider me guilty as charged.

Our capacity to choose has expanded exponentially as the breakfast cereal aisle at our local grocery store has grown longer. We now have more choices than my parent’s generation had and they certainly had more choices than the generation before them. But is that expanded choice necessarily a good thing? Is having choice more important than we what we actually choose? Who will make us wise in the choices we make? Can choice alone be a virtue if there is no guide for us to make virtuous choices?

Just as self-fulfillment can become more highly valued than self-sacrifice, having choice can be become understood as being just as virtuous as what we, in the end, actually choose. And when anxiety over not getting to choose what we want or resentment over what we don’t have becomes our self-definition then virtues like generosity, compassion, and gratitude are crowded out of our hearts and lives. When that happens we reap Black Friday stampedes for consumer goods, the political insistence that we must get all of what we demand, and familial and other relationships that are measured by the plumb line of how my needs are being met and served.

I urge us all to take a deep breath and get quiet. Try modesty out for a season. Look to our neighbor’s needs before our own. Examine our own motives before we impugn another person’s motives. Be grateful for what we already do have.

+Scott

 

Sabbath Keeping (eCrozier #157)

When we order our lives around the focus of our relationship with God by letting our Sabbath day be the highlight of our week, toward which everything moves and from which everything comes, then the security of God’s presence on that day will pervade the week.

The above quote is from Marva Dawn’s book: Keeping the Sabbath Wholly: Ceasing, Resting, Embracing, Feasting. She contends that if we remember the Sabbath and keep it holy, we will find new appreciation for this gift from God. Sabbath keeping is the key to ordering the rest of our lives. But that is a tough sell in a culture that rewards over-functioning and keeping a frenetic pace as a sign of one’s. It shouldn’t be a tough sell in the Church, after all it is a commandment from God.

Many Christians, however, believe that taking a Sabbath rest is a sign of weakness. Keeping Sabbath is not a sign of weakness or a lack of a good work ethic. On the contrary, Sabbath keeping is essential self-care. Parker Palmer writes, “By surviving passages of doubt and depression on the vocational journey, I have become clear about at least one thing: self-care is never a selfish act-it is simply good stewardship of the only gift I have, the gift I was put on earth to offer others.”

Here are three ways I’m renewing my practice of Sabbath keeping for Advent. I invite you to do the same.

1. Sabbath keeping should be a break from expectations and productivity. I don’t need to accomplish anything on the Sabbath. Like everyone else in this culture, I’ve come to believe that unproductive time is wasted time. Not so. I’m going to read some books for the fun of it. I’m not going to set my alarm clock and just sleep in (if the dogs will let me). I’m going to putter around in the back yard, but not really do anything. I’m not going to answer email or turn on anything electronic (except the coffee maker!!!).

2. Sabbath keeping should be a break from consumerism. Like everyone else, I spend so much time during the week thinking about how to pay for my kid’s college, paying other bills, and acquiring things I think I need. Our consumer society provides us with so many choices that I can easily get sucked into the cycle of always wanting more. God calls us to a life of simplicity. On my Sabbath, I’m going thank God for all with which God has already blessed me. I’m not going to purchase anything on my Sabbath day.

3. Sabbath should be a break from being in control. This may be the hardest thing for me to lay aside. Many people depend on me. I carry a heavy load of responsibility that creates an illusion that I have control. The world in which I inhabit, and particularly the world of the Diocese of Georgia, can survive if I step off the merry-go-round for a day and aren’t around to run things. This is a test of faith. I don’t need to watch God’s back. God got along quite well before I arrived. Can I trust God to take care of things in my absence? If I can do so on my Sabbath, then maybe I can do so the other six days?

+Scott

 

eCrozier #69

Advent is a time for rousing. Human beings are shaken to the very depths, so that they may wake up to the truth of themselves. The primary condition for a fruitful and rewarding Advent is renunciation. It is surrender; shattering awakening; that is the necessary preliminary. Life only begins when the whole foundation is shaken.
– Fr Alfred Delp writing during his imprisonment by the Nazis in WWII

A few years ago I was on my way to Africa and I had to fly into Heathrow airport north of London and then take a bus to Gatwick airport, south of London, to connect to my flight to southern Africa. On the bus ride on the M25 there was much road construction. In that typical British way, there were many signs posted for motorists. A particular one got my attention. It was for motorists who had car trouble. The sign simply read: “Free recovery, await rescue.” “Free recovery, await rescue,” how nice, polite and very British that sounds.

It struck me that the road-sign probably describes how some people approach Advent. For some Christians, Advent is about “free recovery” and “awaiting rescue.” They see their lives as broken down and Jesus comes to their rescue with his heavenly tow truck. To be sure Advent is about waiting for Jesus. And certainly the Christian message is that Jesus rescues us from our sins. And we know that our heavenly rescue is a gift of free unmerited grace from God. So, in some ways, “free recovery, await rescue” is an Advent message to us.

But as Fr Delp wrote: Advent is not about passive resignation. It’s about giving ourselves fully to what God is up to in the world. Advent is a reminder that God’s work in Jesus didn’t happen only 2000 years ago. God’s work in Jesus continues each day until that day when the kingdoms of this world become the Kingdom of our God. Advent is a wake up call for all of us to relearn the truth of God’s redeeming love for the world in Jesus Christ. It is the sound of the ram’s horn calling us to throw our lot in with God. This is the time for us to be roused from any lethargy we might have and be awakened to the truth of ourselves and the truth of God in Jesus. It’s a time for God to shake our foundations so we can begin to see the world through the eyes of our Loving Savior.

We Christians proclaim that in Jesus God’s work of restoration and recovery has begun and that Jesus will bring it to completion in God’s own time. In the mean time, we’re called to be participants in that work.  Such work will test our resolve as leaders. At times such work is mind-numbingly dull; and at other times such work will demand our sacrifice. But most of the time the work to which we’re called will be somewhere in between such extremes. It will be filled with good days and bad days. It will be shared with people we love and with people who annoy us. Such work will require great patience on our part as we await God’s ultimate reconciliation and restoration. But we are up to the task. We have God’s promise and we have one another, which means we have everything we need. “Free recovery, await rescue” to be sure. But in the mean time we have holy work; disciple work; Gospel work.

+Scott

 

eCrozier #68

Repentance is at the heart of our Advent preparation to welcome Christ into our lives that he might shape and rule our hearts. My own experience of repentance tells me that it is life-altering. My repentance has caused me to place less importance on the ways I’ve defined differences in people. Those differences, because of my repentance, have become less important to me. My repentance has helped me begin to see all my neighbors as God’s children, as sacred creations whom Jesus came to save and set free. My repentance has brought me to a point where I care less about being right and more about doing right. I find myself caring less about differences of opinion between myself and other people and more about what I and other people do with our lives. The more I practice repentance, the less I care about a person’s political affiliation and the more I care about the fruit produced by that per¬son’s life.

The more I practice repentance in my own life, the more I try to see the world from God’s per¬spective found in Jesus. And that means I’m less worried about the fate of the earth. That’s not to say I’ve adopted a Pollyannaish worldview. Just because one tries to see the world as God sees it doesn’t mean he needs to be in denial about the world’s reality. God, of course, has never been in denial about the creation. The cross of Jesus is God’s declarative statement that God has accepted the world as it is. And the resurrection of Jesus is God’s clear statement that the world (as it is) is unacceptable to God. The cross and resurrection help us all keep God’s big picture in mind.

Advent isn’t a time for despair. Advent calls us to look again at ourselves and at the world God has created; to understand that if we’ve given into the belief that the world is a vicious, unforgiving, meaning¬less place, then it simply means we have not yet repented. Our repentance changes the way we see the world. And maybe for the first time, we can see God in the face of Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.

+Scott