Friday, February 26, 2010

Jewish Masons

What did Harry Houdini and Irving Berlin have in common? They were both Jews. And they were both Masons.

I have just learned that there are many Jews who are members of the Masonic Lodge. Of course when you think about it—Masons meet in temples. Sounds Jewish. As you may know, all the Masonic symbols and rituals come from the Old Testament, particularly from Solomon's Temple.

My ignorance has been diminished a little. I've learned that Hitler wrote in Mein Kampf that Freemasonry and Judaism were two sides of the same coin—both trying to take over the world. Hitler put Masons into concentration camps right along with Jews.

The Jewish magazine Moment (Jan/Feb 2010) has an article about all of this, and also discusses Dan Brown's new book Lost Symbol.

Generally speaking, I'm a little suspicious of organizations that operate in secrecy (like the Masons). Not that I think there is anything dangerous going on in those temples. I've known many Masons over the years and they have been good people. I hobnobbed around with the Grand Master of the Masonic Lodge of Kentucky when I was young. One of the deacons in the Baptist church I grew up in was a Mason, and he always did the ritual of folding the communion table cloth with true Masonic precision. That was the most ritual we had in the Baptist church.

When I was growing up I didn't know any Jews. Except Jesus. And I'm not sure I realized he was Jewish. As far as I know, Jesus wasn't a Mason.

It’s Complicated

We went to see the movie "It's Complicated" (Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, Steve Martin). It's very funny; lots of comical situations. But it also raises questions about marriage and divorce and grief. It shows that divorce is not a punctiliar reality, but a process. The 'letting go' period of a failed relationship may indeed take a long time. 'Learning how to be divorced' is the phrase (as I remember it) used in the movie.

**

It seems to me that 'union' should be a contract validated by the government; and 'marriage' should be a different thing—a sacrament validated by the church (or other religious entity). That would separate and make more clear the two dimensions of modern 'marriage'—namely, a civil contract and a sacred commitment. Then those who just wanted legal matters clear could enter into a Union; and those who wanted to recognize their relationship in the context of faith and God could enter into a Marriage. In some countries it is done this way. The government shouldn't be in the business of sacraments.

 

True Compass[ion]

I write this on February 26, the day after Obama held the televised bipartisan discussion on health care. The Republicans think the big bill is too expensive. But there may be more to it than that.

As I was reading Ted Kennedy's memoir (which someone gave me for Christmas), I was interested to read about the Clinton attempt at health care reform in the 90s. Kennedy writes that the real reason the Republicans were being obstructive toward the health care bill was admitted by Newt Gingrich in July of 1993. He told the New York Times that the House Republicans were going to use opposition to the bill as a springboard to win Republican control of the House in the November elections. Well, isn't that what's going on right now?

I hear concern on the Democratic side about the millions of uninsured Americans, but I never hear that concern on the Republican side. I think Jesus would line up with the Democrats on this. Couldn't all of us sacrifice a little in order for all Americans could have health insurance?


 

[True Compass by Edward M. Kennedy, published by Twelve , 2009]

Sunday, February 21, 2010

change

I'm watching the movie version of The Bridges of Madison County on TV. I listened to the book many years ago, and I would put it on my list of most enjoyable books I've ever 'read.' I noticed in the movie that Robert (Clint Eastwood) says to Francesca (Meryl Streep) that change is good because it's something you can depend on happening. That's a paradoxical truth that can be useful to think about.

We can expect things to change.

The dogma of change gives us stability. We can count on it.

The name of hell

I went into my bank the other day to make a deposit. As I approached the counter I noticed that the teller was a person I had not seen in my bank before. As she took my check and deposit slip and worked at her computer, I glanced at the counter and saw her business card. Her name was Jean Number. No kidding—Number. That struck me as funny. I wondered if she had been destined to work in a bank because of her name.

I once knew a minister whose last name was Goodpastor. We had a President named Bush who thought he was on fire and God spoke through him.

Names are important in the Bible. A change of name indicates a change of character. Remember Abram-to-Abraham…Saul-to-Paul…Simon-to-Peter?

The angel told Joseph to name his son 'Jesus.' The name Jesus literally means, "Yahweh saves." Through Jesus, God saves us.

What does Jesus save us from? The traditional answer is: Hell. I had an elder in a congregation ask me one day, "Why are the Baptist churches growing and we are losing members?" I said, "They believe in hell."

I grew up believing in hell. But Jesus scared the hell out of me. Or more accurately, Jesus loved the hell out of me. I no longer believe in hell. The God I have come to know through Jesus of Nazareth is not a God who could torture people forever and ever because they didn't have the right religion.

If I had been born in India, I probably wouldn't a Christian; I'd probably be Hindu. And according to traditional Christian belief, if someone didn't reach me with the gospel, I would be doomed to be tortured by God for millions and millions of years. I can't believe that. That's not the kind of God Jesus has taught me about.

Now, I know that Jesus himself talked about hell. He warned people about the judgment and about going to hell. However, I think the terminology he chose is important. When Jesus spoke of 'hell' he used the word 'Gehenna,' which refers to the Valley of Hinnom outside of Jerusalem. It was the place where garbage was thrown. It was always burning. And the worms/maggots were always there. It was a dark place. In other words, Jesus chose a metaphor—a poetic word—when he spoke of hell. It was a word which indicated a place where the trash was thrown. So, 'hell' in the vocabulary of Jesus is a metaphor for that which is wasted. If your life is wasted (thrown away), you have experienced hell.

Jesus saves. He saves from hell. What that means is that Jesus leads us into a type of life that is meaningful. He saves us from living a meaningless life—a life which is thrown away—a life that is useless.

Jesus helps us accept who we are and find meaning in the normal, everyday existence that is our gift from God. As we accept our humanity and live as real human beings (the way Jesus taught us) we experience the grace of God, the beauty of life, and the depth of existence. We are saved (rescued) from emptiness and self-loathing; we are saved from the excruciating attempt to be more than or less than human.

When the Word became flesh (human) and lived among us, he affirmed our humanity. To be 'saved' is not something other than human; it is to be truly human. It is to love yourself and to love others. It is to love God. When evangelicals promise something other than ordinary human life, they lead us down the wrong path.

To be saved is to be a loving person living in communion with God. Nothing more, nothing less. You can bank on that.

Bin Laden’s plan

I have learned more about what kind of person Osama bin Laden is by reading Growing Up bin Laden (St. Martin's Press, 2009). In this fascinating book one of his wives and one of his sons tell about living with him.

Najwa bin Laden, Osama's first wife, and Omar bin Laden, Osama's fourth son, give intimate details of family life, describe Osama's personality and temperament, tell both harrowing and humorous stories, and give insight into his religious fervor. Osama bin Laden has five wives (all at once) and 20 children by those wives.

We probably don't even want to think of Osama bin Laden as a human being with feelings and a family and sincere beliefs. But he is. He is also a terribly misguided and destructive person. Thinking of him only as 'the enemy' or the devil incarnate doesn't give a real picture of the man.

Religion can be a means of love or hate. Unfortunately, Osama's understanding of God has led him to use his religion as a weapon to destroy life.

I heard a respected minister a couple of years ago give the insight that "Islam is a young religion." Which means that Islam has not had time to mature and come to accept the benefits of a secular society as has Judaism and Christianity. That made sense to me. Religions that maintain a complete separation from the secular end up being violent or irrelevant. The Shakers became irrelevant; Islamic extremists have become violent. Islamic terrorists have the mindset that sees secularity as a threat to the meaning of their existence. They demand theocracy or nothing.

The genius of America is its acceptance of secularity as a necessary guard against religious fanaticism that takes the form of violence. The 'wall of separation' which Jefferson wrote about is part of the wisdom of our founders.

The one passage that really bothered me in this book is a conversation between Osama and his son Omar. Omar had by this time come to a different mindset than his father. And with audacity he questions Osama's vision of violence toward the West. Here is part of Osama's response:

First we obliterate America. By that I don't mean militarily. We can destroy America from within by making it economically weak, until its markets collapse. When that happens, they will have no interest in supplying Israel with arms, for they will not have extra funds to do so. (p. 177)

The United States is militarily the most powerful in the world. And I imagine it always will be. But I would not be surprised if our nation implodes due to economic weakness. We went into Iraq and wasted billions of dollars. We were left with a huge deficit and domestic needs unmet. That, along with the greed of corporations and banks, has left us a weaker country. Capitalism is like Tiger Woods. It has to set limits on itself—be self-disciplined—regulated—or it will get itself into a mess. The absolutist free market philosophy of Greenspan et al. failed to require self-discipline for our economic system. So, needless war and greed at home combined to threaten our national security in terms of economic stability.

To defend us against enemies, foreign and domestic, is the vow that members of congress take. One of our domestic enemies is unregulated greed. One of our foreign enemies is Al Qaeda. To be patriotic we have to wear bifocals.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Introverts in the church

I recently read Adam McHugh's book Introverts in the Church (IVP Books, 2009), a thoroughly researched treatment of the nature of introversion and its implications for leadership and ministry.

McHugh describes what being an introverted pastor was like for him:

I… relished times of solitude, reflection and personal study. I enjoyed people, and I found satisfaction in depth of relationship and conversation, but even when I spent time with people I liked, I looked forward to moments of privacy. I found crowds draining. I could stand up in front of hundreds of people and preach a sermon without nervousness, but I often stumbled through the greeting time afterward because my energy reserves were dry. (p. 13)

I can relate to that. We introverts really do enjoy people, but only in small doses. Small talk takes its toll on us. Solitude is our friend. But we live in an extroverted society, and Protestantism in general is an extroverted milieu.

A therapist who works with lots of pastors as clients told McHugh that many of those pastors struggle to find balance in their lives and often wrestle with depression. The therapist says that

many introverts pay a high cost to be in ministry. They feel unable to meet the social expectations placed on them by their congregations, and they frequently lack adequate boundaries to enable them to find rest and to recharge their introverted batteries.

Only now, as I look back on 39 years of pastoral ministry, am I coming to a full realization of how much my introverted temperament has been a drag on my ministry and my ability to be a more productive pastor.

Recently I heard the great tennis professional Andre Agassi being interviewed about his new memoir Open. He startled me by saying that he hated playing tennis all those years. Hated tennis! How could someone who spent almost 40 years playing tennis as a professional and eventually becoming the best in the world—how could he "hate tennis"? You wonder if he is exaggerating.

Yet, his statement struck something way down inside of me about my experience as a pastor for 39 years. I don't think I would encourage anyone with an introverted temperament to go into pastoral ministry.