Jesus Lives At Elvis' House

This past week in our youth meeting I talked about grace. Or at least, I tried to. You see, we played a game that night that took much longer than I'd anticipated...and I didn't have very much time left to talk.

(Somehow I think there's a keen lesson in time management and theological priorities hidden in this situation.)

The idea of grace forms one of the core principles I envision for our youth ministry. It's one of the main themes I envision for my life.

In the book of Acts, the early Church had a rather large debate. Most of the believers were at this time Jews, and some of them wanted to insist that anyone who converted to Christianity must obey the Jewish law. Get circumcised.

They wanted to assert, perhaps, the priority of their faith. Maybe the dominance of their way of doing things.

Perhaps they assumed that their understanding was better than the Gentiles. The outsiders.

We want to draw lines too. The Church has throughout the centuries tried to mold people into what they wanted. Has made distinctions and excluded people. I'm sure I don't have to provide any examples at this point.

Interestingly enough, the story in the book of Acts reaches a climax with Peter arguing that they cannot make distinctions. Jesus saves all. God's grace is poured out for all. End of the story.

Because of that, we can't exclude any from our love and care. We can't. I won't. And if I do I'm clearly going against Jesus.

This is grace...amazing in our lives and the great equalizer. All of us children of one God. Objects of His love.

If I am truly a man of faith in Christ, I can never again discriminate against any or fail to love any. Christ didn't

And that, I suppose, is that.

"God, who knows the heart, showed that he accepted them by giving the Holy Spirit to them, just as he did to us. He made no distinction between us and them, for he purified their hearts by faith. Now then, why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of the disciples a yoke that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are."
Acts 15:8-11

Set Apart

It has been a bit since I've posted here...and I suppose that's because I've been fairly busy with the business of getting settled into the position of youth pastor and preparing myself for a PhD program. As in everything else, life continues on its too often frenetic pace.

I was at an introductory dinner tonight at Princeton, and I think is was our seminary's president who mentioned something John Henry Cardinal Newman once said.

Someone asked the cardinal if he thought a clever priest or a pastoral priest was better.

As I heard this question in the middle of the speech, I simply assumed that the answer was "the pastoral priest." I mean, of course that must be better than just being clever.

But, yet again, I was wrong.

You see, what Newman said was basically this: "Neither. The holy priest is best." The holy priest. The one who is set apart and sets themself apart for God. That's what is important. That is what's needed.

Sometimes I try to be clever. And Heaven knows I try. And sometimes I try to be pastoral. I'm not always so good at that. But I do try to read books and ask advice and do all sorts of things to be a better pastor.

But what if, just what if, none of that really matters in the long run? What if all I have to do is give a blank check to God every day and really mean it?

What if I can do this without hypocrisy? Without saying it to others and not living it myself? Yep, that is--and is going to be--tough.

But still...what if I do put aside methods and a desire for results or outcomes or hopes or dreams and just serve Him?

What then, I wonder?

The Widening Gyre

I've just read part of the following:

"Fights and fires broke out, corpses lay out in the open, and rescue helicopters and law enforcement officers were shot at as flooded-out New Orleans descended into anarchy Thursday. 'This is a desperate SOS,' the mayor said. Anger mounted across the ruined city, with thousands of storm victims increasingly hungry, desperate and tired of waiting for buses to take them out."

I guess I never realized how fragile a thing society really is. How much we take for granted every day. How quickly our baser human instincts might take over and all the limits of civility just fade away.

It's like the end of the world and I don't quite know what to say.

My father likes a quotation from Matthew Arnold that goes something like this: "Man must begin, know this, where Nature ends; Nature and man can never be fast friends."

Arnold is right. There is so much beyond our control that can make us stop dead in our hitherto steady tracks. Nature and man, despite their frequent interactions, are but the ficklest of friends.

But I think I'm beginning to realize that not even man's own nature can be friends with itself...at least not today.