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December 25, 2009

An Urgent Call To Church Leaders

Instead of emphasizing your differences and the unique merits of your particular "brand" of Christianity, help us together to rediscover a "big tent" Christianity, one that emphasizes the gospel of hope that we share and not the historical differences that have divided us.

We, the ordinary people in churches, do not need a new Creed or manifesto. We need to hear in visionary terms how the core message of the Christian tradition can still speak powerfully to our world. More and more of us are pragmatic idealists. We are not interested in detailed doctrinal disputes, in negative campaigning on behalf of traditional theological distinctions, in intolerance and exclusivity. We want relevance. But we are also quick to recognize when content evaporates and churches serve up nothing more than re-warmed values of the surrounding culture, accompanied by the remnants of traditional Christian practice.

Listen to us also! We really believe that Jesus' message continues to be relevant to our contemporary culture, that it has something powerful to offer to a world in crisis. We believe in a gospel that is neither conservative, in the sense of exclusivist and reactionary, nor liberal, in the sense that it forsakes all content, despenses with God, and merely covers over pop psychology or political correctness with a thin veneer of vaguely Christian language. Lead us in finding and formulating a middle way between these extremes, since we believe that the heart of Christianity lies here!

from: "Transforming Christian Theology: For Church and Society", Philip Clayton, Fortress Press, 2010

December 17, 2009

Morning view

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December 14, 2009

All you need is love

The sky was just turning dark as I pulled up to the bridge where we were supposed to meet. As I turned off the engine and opened the door several heads peeked out from under the bridge. A parade of sorts began to meander over. We greeted each other as we do each time we meet—gratitude and thankfulness dripping from their tongues. Two of them could not make the 25-foot walk to the car without help, too inebriated from another rainy day spent masking the pain of their predicament. The seven individuals now climbing into my 10-year-old Toyota Land Cruiser are all homeless.

It took two of us to situate “Traci” (not her real name) into the back seat, the sweetness of her demeanor masked by the smell of urine emanating from her damp clothes. As we headed east on the 52 I said I had a song to play for them and I turned up the volume. The remake of “All You Need Is Love” by Playing for Change started to electrify the mood. By the time the chorus arrived all eight of us were belting out:

All you need is love

All you need is love

All you need is love, love

Love is all you need

We had a party to get ready for and the excitement was mounting the closer we got. Messy Sunday, as we affectionately refer to ourselves, was hosting the Ecclesia Collective for a holiday open house. But before that officially began, my wife’s grandmother, 92-years-old and currently living with us, had prepared a feast for all of us. As we drove up the driveway my 3-year-old son was excitedly waiting for us on the front porch, basked in the light of flickering Christmas lights. We piled out of the vehicle easier than we got in, unpacking is always faster and easier than packing. “Fidel” (not his real name either) had a quick reminder before this eclectic bunch descended into the living room, “Remember the rule!” It wasn’t until breakfast the next morning over a cup of coffee at La Jolla Shores that I learned that Fidel had threatened to “kick anyone’s a$s” that got out of line while at our house. He is sort of the self-appointed and unchallenged authority, preoccupying himself with keeping the others on their best behavior.

Once inside, they pealed off two-by-two into the bathrooms to take showers while the others surrounded the dining room table ordained with grandma’s lovingly prepared Chinese dinner extravaganza. In Mandarin she instructed my wife to have us assemble so we could pray for the meal. As we held hands around the table listening to grandma pray I watched tears fall from “Larry’s” eyes as he squeezed her hand. After she finished her eloquent Mandarin prayer he glanced at her and said, “Thank you Mama.” Between cigarette breaks on the patio, the revolving doors into the bathrooms for showers, and dining around the table, other guests began to arrive. The conversation was rich, genuine, and heartfelt. Some gathered around the fireplace, others the dining room table. Every 30 minutes or so “Mark” exclaimed, “Your friends are alright.” He told me later on the patio that everyone he talked to made him feel normal, and special, and treated him like a regular person. For an evening their dignity was validated and they felt normal. Something I think most of us take for granted. When the majority of your time interacting with people you don’t know is spent holding a sign on a median and reaching out for a stray dollar or two at every red light, being made to feel “normal” must feel pretty good indeed. For an evening they were shaking hands with strangers rather than accepting token gestures through a slightly lowered driver’s side window.

Two of my friends apologized for being antisocial by remaining outside on the patio cuddled under a blanket enjoying the view of the lights below. “We never get to do this,” he explained, “just sit somewhere and enjoy such a beautiful view.” I said it was fine, no need to apologize. Toward the end of the evening, as we were getting ready to leave, I woke them up. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms. “Can we stay a little while longer?” he asked.

___

To be continued, prayerfully, as all of us wrestle with Jesus’ words, “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’”

Also seen here

December 09, 2009

Global Advocacy Days 2010

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Join Not For Sale this Spring as we gather in Washington, DC & Ottawa, Canada to ask our legislators to re-Abolish modern-day slavery.

Being a modern-day Abolitionist means advocating for stronger legislation against human trafficking, as well as protection and care for survivors. These two-day events will combine advocacy training, networking, and meetings with your elected representatives as you give a voice to those in captivity.

Be a part of the movement this March. Help us send a message to your elected officials that ending global slavery should be a priority!

Washington, DC
March 1-2, 2010

Ottawa, Canada
March 2-3, 2010

Visit EndGlobalSlavery.org
to learn more & register TODAY!


Space is limited! Check in for more details online as the date approaches...

December 07, 2009

What If Jesus Meant All That Stuff?

This radical Christian’s ministry for the poor, The Simple Way, has gotten him in some trouble with his fellow Evangelicals. We asked him to address those who don’t believe.

By Shane Claiborne

To all my nonbelieving,
sort-of-believing, and used-to-be-believing friends: I feel like I should begin with a confession. I am sorry that so often the biggest obstacle to God has been Christians. Christians who have had so much to say with our mouths and so little to show with our lives. I am sorry that so often we have forgotten the Christ of our Christianity.

Forgive us. Forgive us for the embarrassing things we have done in the name of God.

The other night I headed into downtown Philly for a stroll with some friends from out of town. We walked down to Penn’s Landing along the river, where there are street performers, artists, musicians. We passed a great magician who did some pretty sweet tricks like pour change out of his iPhone, and then there was a preacher. He wasn’t quite as captivating as the magician. He stood on a box, yelling into a microphone, and beside him was a coffin with a fake dead body inside. He talked about how we are all going to die and go to hell if we don’t know Jesus.

Some folks snickered. Some told him to shut the hell up. A couple of teenagers tried to steal the dead body in the coffin. All I could do was think to myself, I want to jump up on a box beside him and yell at the top of my lungs, “God is not a monster.” Maybe next time I will.

The more I have read the Bible and studied the life of Jesus, the more I have become convinced that Christianity spreads best not through force but through fascination. But over the past few decades our Christianity, at least here in the United States, has become less and less fascinating. We have given the atheists less and less to disbelieve. And the sort of Christianity many of us have seen on TV and heard on the radio looks less and less like Jesus.

At one point Gandhi was asked if he was a Christian, and he said, essentially, “I sure love Jesus, but the Christians seem so unlike their Christ.” A recent study showed that the top three perceptions of Christians in the U. S. among young non-Christians are that Christians are 1) antigay, 2) judgmental, and 3) hypocritical. So what we have here is a bit of an image crisis, and much of that reputation is well deserved. That’s the ugly stuff. And that’s why I begin by saying that I’m sorry.

Now for the good news.

I want to invite you to consider that maybe the televangelists and street preachers are wrong — and that God really is love. Maybe the fruits of the Spirit really are beautiful things like peace, patience, kindness, joy, love, goodness, and not the ugly things that have come to characterize religion, or politics, for that matter. (If there is anything I have learned from liberals and conservatives, it’s that you can have great answers and still be mean… and that just as important as being right is being nice.)

The Bible that I read says that God did not send Jesus to condemn the world but to save it… it was because “God so loved the world.” That is the God I know, and I long for others to know. I did not choose to devote my life to Jesus because I was scared to death of hell or because I wanted crowns in heaven… but because he is good. For those of you who are on a sincere spiritual journey, I hope that you do not reject Christ because of Christians. We have always been a messed-up bunch, and somehow God has survived the embarrassing things we do in His name. At the core of our “Gospel” is the message that Jesus came “not [for] the healthy… but the sick.” And if you choose Jesus, may it not be simply because of a fear of hell or hope for mansions in heaven.

Don’t get me wrong, I still believe in the afterlife, but too often all the church has done is promise the world that there is life after death and use it as a ticket to ignore the hells around us. I am convinced that the Christian Gospel has as much to do with this life as the next, and that the message of that Gospel is not just about going up when we die but about bringing God’s Kingdom down. It was Jesus who taught us to pray that God’s will be done “on earth as it is in heaven.” On earth.

One of Jesus’ most scandalous stories is the story of the Good Samaritan. As sentimental as we may have made it, the original story was about a man who gets beat up and left on the side of the road. A priest passes by. A Levite, the quintessential religious guy, also passes by on the other side (perhaps late for a meeting at church). And then comes the Samaritan… you can almost imagine a snicker in the Jewish crowd. Jews did not talk to Samaritans, or even walk through Samaria. But the Samaritan stops and takes care of the guy in the ditch and is lifted up as the hero of the story. I’m sure some of the listeners were ticked. According to the religious elite, Samaritans did not keep the right rules, and they did not have sound doctrine… but Jesus shows that true faith has to work itself out in a way that is Good News to the most bruised and broken person lying in the ditch.

It is so simple, but the pious forget this lesson constantly. God may indeed be evident in a priest, but God is just as likely to be at work through a Samaritan or a prostitute. In fact the Scripture is brimful of God using folks like a lying prostitute named Rahab, an adulterous king named David… at one point God even speaks to a guy named Balaam through his donkey. Some say God spoke to Balaam through his ass and has been speaking through asses ever since. So if God should choose to use us, then we should be grateful but not think too highly of ourselves. And if upon meeting someone we think God could never use, we should think again.

After all, Jesus says to the religious elite who looked down on everybody else: “The tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the Kingdom ahead of you.” And we wonder what got him killed?

I have a friend in the UK who talks about “dirty theology” — that we have a God who is always using dirt to bring life and healing and redemption, a God who shows up in the most unlikely and scandalous ways. After all, the whole story begins with God reaching down from heaven, picking up some dirt, and breathing life into it. At one point, Jesus takes some mud, spits in it, and wipes it on a blind man’s eyes to heal him. (The priests and producers of anointing oil were not happy that day.)

In fact, the entire story of Jesus is about a God who did not just want to stay “out there” but who moves into the neighborhood, a neighborhood where folks said, “Nothing good could come.” It is this Jesus who was accused of being a glutton and drunkard and rabble-rouser for hanging out with all of society’s rejects, and who died on the imperial cross of Rome reserved for bandits and failed messiahs. This is why the triumph over the cross was a triumph over everything ugly we do to ourselves and to others. It is the final promise that love wins.

It is this Jesus who was born in a stank manger in the middle of a genocide. That is the God that we are just as likely to find in the streets as in the sanctuary, who can redeem revolutionaries and tax collectors, the oppressed and the oppressors… a God who is saving some of us from the ghettos of poverty, and some of us from the ghettos of wealth.

In closing, to those who have closed the door on religion — I was recently asked by a non-Christian friend if I thought he was going to hell. I said, “I hope not. It will be hard to enjoy heaven without you.” If those of us who believe in God do not believe God’s grace is big enough to save the whole world… well, we should at least pray that it is.

Your brother,

Shane

read the Esquire magazine article here