I've been thinking recently about church being a spiritual discipline, even a form of self-mortification.
This train of thought began with a statement I made recently while teaching a class at church about church. In talking about what it means to live with a faith community I said: "I know this might sound strange to some of you, but I go to church to intentionally be around people who irritate me."
A few weeks later I was visiting with friends at our church retreat. Our conversation turned to the difficult discipline of church. During that conversation I said: "Church is a form of self-mortification, like fasting. A big part of church is learning to say No to yourself."
Monday, May 7, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
A Parable
On the great Day of Judgment all of humanity was called before the Judgment Seat of God. There the angels sorted the people.
On the right side of the Judgment Seat was a small group. These were the elect. The angels moved among them and gave each person a small golden box.
On the left side of the Judgment Seat was a vast multitude, as far as the eye could see. Here were all the others, every person who had ever breathed in God's creation. Men and women, the elderly and children, from every tribe and nation across the eons. Billions upon billions of souls. Like the sands on a seashore. These were the damned.
After the Great Sorting the King Upon the Throne delivered his Judgment. To those on the right he said, "You are the elect, the few I have predestined from the beginning of time to share in my bounty and live in the Holy City. I also have a gift for you. Inside the golden box you hold is this gift, the gift of eternal life. Come into your rest!"
Turning to the vast multitude on his left the King continued, "You are the damned. Although it is in my power to do so, I have chosen not to save you. To bring glory to myself I have chosen to save only these few. So depart, you wicked ones, into the fires I have prepared for you before the beginning of time!"
There was a great and heavy silence in heaven as these terrible words of judgment were uttered.
This stillness was broken when a small, lone figure on the right side of the Judgment Seat stepped forward and away from the elect.
It was a young girl. She moved slowly to the foot of the Throne and there she kneeled. The Heavenly Host held its collective breath.
The girl began to speak with a trembling voice.
"Most Holy God, Lord and King. I have no right to speak to you. No right to make a request. But as I look on the vast multitude of the damned my heart breaks within me. These are the ones you have asked me--for my whole life and with all the strength I have--to love, and serve, and forgive. And I do love them as you have taught me to love them. And there are so, so many. And I also know that I deserve the same punishment that they deserve. Your salvation is a gift freely given and I deserve it no more than any other human being.
So this is my request, Most Awesome King. I ask that my gift be given to one of these. Save one of them rather than me. Please number me among the transgressors. I wish to give my life so that another might live."
And with a trembling hand she set her golden box on the ground before the Throne.
A tremor of joy pulsed through the Heavenly Host as a smile broke out upon the Face of God. And then stepping down from the Throne, where he had been seated quietly watching at his Father's Right Hand, came the Lamb Who Had Been Slain.
The Prince of Heaven came forward and lifted the face of the young girl, the holes in his hands visible to all. The Image of the Invisible God spoke tenderly, with tears in his eyes, "Well done--very, very well done--my good and faithful servant."
And then the Lamb Who Had Been Slain stood and turned to the elect, each clutching at their golden box.
To these the Crucified One declared, "Depart into judgment, you who never knew me."
On the right side of the Judgment Seat was a small group. These were the elect. The angels moved among them and gave each person a small golden box.
On the left side of the Judgment Seat was a vast multitude, as far as the eye could see. Here were all the others, every person who had ever breathed in God's creation. Men and women, the elderly and children, from every tribe and nation across the eons. Billions upon billions of souls. Like the sands on a seashore. These were the damned.
After the Great Sorting the King Upon the Throne delivered his Judgment. To those on the right he said, "You are the elect, the few I have predestined from the beginning of time to share in my bounty and live in the Holy City. I also have a gift for you. Inside the golden box you hold is this gift, the gift of eternal life. Come into your rest!"
Turning to the vast multitude on his left the King continued, "You are the damned. Although it is in my power to do so, I have chosen not to save you. To bring glory to myself I have chosen to save only these few. So depart, you wicked ones, into the fires I have prepared for you before the beginning of time!"
There was a great and heavy silence in heaven as these terrible words of judgment were uttered.
This stillness was broken when a small, lone figure on the right side of the Judgment Seat stepped forward and away from the elect.
It was a young girl. She moved slowly to the foot of the Throne and there she kneeled. The Heavenly Host held its collective breath.
The girl began to speak with a trembling voice.
"Most Holy God, Lord and King. I have no right to speak to you. No right to make a request. But as I look on the vast multitude of the damned my heart breaks within me. These are the ones you have asked me--for my whole life and with all the strength I have--to love, and serve, and forgive. And I do love them as you have taught me to love them. And there are so, so many. And I also know that I deserve the same punishment that they deserve. Your salvation is a gift freely given and I deserve it no more than any other human being.
So this is my request, Most Awesome King. I ask that my gift be given to one of these. Save one of them rather than me. Please number me among the transgressors. I wish to give my life so that another might live."
And with a trembling hand she set her golden box on the ground before the Throne.
A tremor of joy pulsed through the Heavenly Host as a smile broke out upon the Face of God. And then stepping down from the Throne, where he had been seated quietly watching at his Father's Right Hand, came the Lamb Who Had Been Slain.
The Prince of Heaven came forward and lifted the face of the young girl, the holes in his hands visible to all. The Image of the Invisible God spoke tenderly, with tears in his eyes, "Well done--very, very well done--my good and faithful servant."
And then the Lamb Who Had Been Slain stood and turned to the elect, each clutching at their golden box.
To these the Crucified One declared, "Depart into judgment, you who never knew me."
Thursday, May 3, 2012
As Open as the Outstretched Arms of Christ on the Cross: Moltmann on Open Communion
Last week I posted some thoughts about the practice of open communion. To add to that discussion I'd like to share some of the thoughts of Jurgen Moltmann from his book The Church in the Power of the Spirit (H/T to Tony Jones for making me aware of Moltmann's analysis awhile back).
In the book, after a theological discussion regarding the Lord's Supper, Moltmann discusses how that theology should "unpack" in the concrete practices of the Lord's Supper within the church (pp 258-260).
First, the Lord's Table must be central to the worship experience and the Lord's Supper should be practiced at every gathering: "The fellowship of the table must be central for the assembled congregation, just as much as the proclamation of the gospel...[The congregation] will celebrate this fellowship of the table at all its assemblies."
Second, the practice will be one of open communion:
Third, as the meal is shared each person will "offer another bread and wine with Christ's words of promise." This brings us into the eschatological nature of the experience.
Fourth, the Supper will be shared with the congregation facing each other, seated around a table if at all possible: "The meal's character of fellowship is brought out when the person performing the liturgy stands behind the altar, so making it a table, and celebrates facing the people. It is demonstrated even more clearly when the congregation sits around a table."
Fifth, when possible, and preferably all the time, the Lord's Supper should be a part of an agape meal where everyone eats together: The Lord's Supper should be followed "by a common meal, and the proclamation of the gospel by a common discussion of people's real needs and the specific tasks of the Christian mission."
In the book, after a theological discussion regarding the Lord's Supper, Moltmann discusses how that theology should "unpack" in the concrete practices of the Lord's Supper within the church (pp 258-260).
First, the Lord's Table must be central to the worship experience and the Lord's Supper should be practiced at every gathering: "The fellowship of the table must be central for the assembled congregation, just as much as the proclamation of the gospel...[The congregation] will celebrate this fellowship of the table at all its assemblies."
Second, the practice will be one of open communion:
Because this fellowship comes into being on the basis of Christ's unconditional and prevenient invitation, the fellowship will be an open one. It cannot limit Christ's invitation to its own account. Everyone can participate who wants to participate in the fellowship of Christ. The communion is the answer to Christ's open invitation...Earlier, Moltmann sets out the theological rationale for this "open invitation" (pp. 244-246):
Because of Christ's prevenient and unconditional invitation, the fellowship of the table cannot be restricted to people who are 'faithful to the church', or to the 'inner circle' of the community. For it is not the feast of the particularly righteous, or the people who think that they are particularly devout; it is the feast of the weary and heavy-laden, who have heard the call to refreshment. We must ask ourselves whether baptism and confirmation ought to go on counting as the presuppositions of 'admittance' to the Lord's supper. If we remember that Jesus' meal with tax-collectors and sinners is also present in the Lord's supper, then the open invitation to it should also be carried 'into the highways and byways'. It will then lose its 'mystery' character, but it will not become an ordinary, everyday meal for all that, because the invitation is a call to the fellowship of the crucified one and an invitation in his name to reconciliation with God..."
...[I]t is the Lord's supper, not something organized by a church or a denomination. The church owes its life to the Lord and its fellowship to his supper, not the other way around. Its invitation goes out to all whom he is sent to invite. If a church were to limit the openness of his invitation of its own accord, it would be turning the Lord's supper into the church's supper and putting its own fellowship at the centre, not fellowship with him. By using the expression 'the Lord's supper' we are therefore stressing the pre-eminence of Christ above his earthly church and are calling in question every denominationally limited 'church supper'...Let me pause to say, this is the vision that captures me when I think of open communion. Not to say there aren't other issues on the table, but this theological impulse trumps for me.
What is true of theology applies to church discipline as well. The Lord's supper is not the place to practise church discipline; it is first of all the place where the liberating presence of the crucified Lord is celebrated. But in many churches the admission of one person to communion is practically linked with the excommunication of others, so that the Lord's supper is preceded by a 'test' of the individual's worthiness or unworthiness...Christ's original feast of joy is then unfortunately transformed into a meal of repentance where people beat their breasts and gnash their teeth...
Life is more than knowledge about the laws of life; and in the same way the fellowship of Christ and fellowship with one another are more than knowledge about its conditions. The Lord's supper takes place on the basis of an invitation which is as open as the outstretched arms of Christ on the cross. Because he died for the reconciliation of 'the world', the world is invited to reconciliation in the supper. It is not the openness of this invitation, it is the restrictive measures of the churches which have to be justified before the face of the crucified Jesus. But which of us can justify them in his sight? The openness of the crucified Lord's invitation to his supper and his fellowship reaches beyond the frontiers of Christianity; for it is addressed to 'all nations' and to 'tax-collectors and sinners' first of all. Consequently we understand Christ's invitation as being open, not merely to the churches but to the whole world.
Third, as the meal is shared each person will "offer another bread and wine with Christ's words of promise." This brings us into the eschatological nature of the experience.
Fourth, the Supper will be shared with the congregation facing each other, seated around a table if at all possible: "The meal's character of fellowship is brought out when the person performing the liturgy stands behind the altar, so making it a table, and celebrates facing the people. It is demonstrated even more clearly when the congregation sits around a table."
Fifth, when possible, and preferably all the time, the Lord's Supper should be a part of an agape meal where everyone eats together: The Lord's Supper should be followed "by a common meal, and the proclamation of the gospel by a common discussion of people's real needs and the specific tasks of the Christian mission."
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