That We All May Be One

In both the story of Moses and the burning bush (Exodus 3:1-12) and the account of Jesus’ prayer thanking his Father who has “hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and revealing them to infants” (Matthew 11:25-27) we have examples of what theologians call both the “transcendence” and the “immanence” of God.

The awesome reality and the “otherness” of God which we call “transcendence” is described in the first of our 39 Articles of Religion in the Book of Common Prayer: “There is but one living and true God, everlasting, without body, parts, or passions; of infinite power, wisdom and goodness; the Maker and Preserver of all things both visible and invisible.” (BCP 867)

This was the initial experience of Moses near Mount Horeb when he heard God call from the burning bush “Moses, Moses…Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” It was also Jesus’ experience who begins his prayer, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth…”

We do ourselves no favor, as believers, if we ignore or trivialize this “transcendent” reality we call God. God is not our “buddy.” God is the Source of all that is! In this God – and only in this God — we “live and move and have our being.” We exist solely because God’s love and grace allows us to “be!” 

And yet, that’s not all the story! Not all of the truth about God. Because, as Moses stands – sandal-less – in the presence of this awesome God, he also hears these words, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob…I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry…I know their suffering, and I have come down to deliver them…”

And the occasion of Jesus’ prayer to his “Father (who is) Lord of heaven and earth” is to offer thanks because “you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants…for such was your gracious will.” Never one to domesticate or trivialize God the Father, Jesus was also adamant that God had to be available and accessible to the youngest and simplest among us…to the last and the least. “Knowledge of God,” and the healing and liberation that come with it cannot be reserved only for scholars and priests – but must be available to all!   

This “immanence,” this presence and availability and inward experience, of God is what Jesus celebrating in his prayer. But it cannot be separated from God’s transcendence. Both must be held together, in some kind of creative tension.  That should come as no surprise to Christians like us – who confess Jesus Christ as human and divine, receive Sacraments which are both outward and visible and inward and spiritual, and Christians like us who are both saints and sinners!

Paradoxes like these lie at the heart of Christianity. And in the heart of God – who is both transcendent and immanent…at the same time!

In response to the July 10 release from the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith response to some questions regarding certain aspects of the Doctrine of the Church, I’m not quite sure what all the fuss is.

This doesn’t change anything for us, and is certainly nothing new for the Roman Catholic Church. Pope Benedict XVI obviously wants to clarify the way he understands the teaching of the Second Vatican Council on a number of matters. We have disagreed with our Roman Catholic colleagues since 1896 about Pope Leo XIII’s declaration of the nullity of Anglican Orders and continue to do so today.

We believe that our Orders are valid and that we are a “church” in every sense of the word. None of these disagreements, however, will lessen our commitment to remain in international and national ecumenical dialogue with the Roman Catholic Church which has been productively held for more than forty years.

And we look forward to what should be a very interesting Anglican – Roman Catholic (ARC-USA) dialogue in Washington, DC next October!

Yesterday, a colleague and I spent most of the day in a meeting of Christians and Jews at the headquarters of the American Jewish Committee here in New York. That may explain why one of our readings today (Genesis 32:22-32) jumped out at me today. Surely “good news” is to be found throughout the pages of Scripture and not only in the four Gospels!

In the midst of the Genesis account of the reconciliation process between Jacob and Esau (Isaac’s sons with all their complicated history) Jacob meets a man and engages in a wrestling match with him. As the story unfolds it is clear that this is no ordinary man but – at the very least – an angel of God and, more probably, God himself: appearing in human form.

The first hint of that is the plea to break off the match because “the day is breaking.” Hebrew thought was clear that no one could look upon the face of God and live, so Jacob’s merciful adversary wanted to leave before the sun rose to reveal him in full light. But Jacob will have none of that, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

And the form that the blessing takes is the awarding of a new name. How many times in Scripture the taking of a new name marks the beginning of a new stage in life or a new ministry of some kind! “Your name shall no more be called Jacob (the “Supplanter”… of Esau) but “Israel” which is alternatively translated “God rules” or “He who strives with God!” (And with men!)

How rich it is for the Jewish people to be identified as those who “strive with God…and with other people!” In their long history of being called, being faithful, being disobedient, being exiled, returning home, being persecuted yet always mindful of their “chosen-ness” the descendents of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob (now Israel!) have developed a certain intimacy and a certain ease with God!

Rabbis have no difficulty arguing with each other, arguing with the biblical text itself, and even arguing with God! Remember Tevya in “Fiddler on the Roof” and his wonderful, honest relationship and conversations with God! Not unlike Jacob who says, “I will not let you go unless you bless me!”

Yet this “striving with God” is not without its price. Jacob is wounded in the struggle and limps away from the encounter claiming to have seen God face to face and lived. Yet, the sun rises as he passes Penuel, making it clear that he has seen God only in the pre-dawn light.

What are the lessons for us in this fascinating and ancient story? Two things at least. The first is that it’s OK to wrestle with God. The spiritual life is not always rosy or a straight path to God. Like the people of Israel, we are called, sometimes faithful, sometimes disobedient, sometimes experience persecution and exile, but are always invited to return home.

Secondly, God can sometimes be found in our adversaries!  People we find most difficult to understand or to like or to agree with may actually be where we meet God. But that requires staying in the struggle. That means we cannot “walk away from the table.” If we are to receive the blessing of God, it may mean that we need to look for that blessing in the midst of the struggle, be willing to wounded in the struggle, but always be prepared to meet God face to face in that struggle.

If only in the pre-dawn light!    

So, the Episcopal priest who considers herself both Christian and Muslim has now received a pastoral directive from her bishop to “take a year  off” from her responsibilities and duties as a priest, to think and pray through the spiritual journey she is on, with an eye toward achieving some clarity about where she wants to come down with respect to some of the mutually exclusive claims of Christianity and Islam.

It is my understanding that she was willing, all along, to submit to whatever discipline those in authority over her in the church decided and that both she and her bishop agreed to the terms of the directive as well as staying in touch regularly over the next months. Altogether, it seems to me, a thoroughly pastoral Anglican approach — sensible, compassionate, but clear.

For those who continue to believe that there are no limits or boundaries in the Episcopal Church these days, perhaps this will prove instructive. Bishops, Standing Committees, clergy and lay leaders make these kind of pastoral and disciplinary discision every week, usually quietly, patiently, and without fanfare. The “doctrine, discipline, and worship” of  the Episcopal Church is summarized in  the Creeds,  codified in the Canons, and  set out for all to see in  the Book of  Common  Prayer.

May those of us who have chosen to live out our Christian commmitment within the broad comprehensiveness, the “generous orthodoxy” of the Episcopal Church recognize that, just as in any family, there are norms, expectations, and limits which define that common life. And may we always have the grace to honor those so that “we all may be one.”

One of the great gifts of the Protestant Reformation was the re-discovery of something called “justification by faith.” It has to do with how we “get saved,” how we come into a saving relationship with God, how we receive the assurance of eternal life.

 It’s actually better named “justification by grace through faith” and it was certainly not new with Martin Luther or the Protestants, but hearkens back to the pages of the New Testament, specifically to St. Paul who was the great “apostle of grace.”

I would say it even goes back beyond Paul at least to Jesus who demonstrates how it works in Matthew 9:9-13. That really was Jesus’ way. He was not a systematic theologian like Paul could be at his best. Jesus was a story teller and an activist. He demonstrated in his life what God was like rather than writing books about it!

He does two things in this Gospel passage: First, he calls Matthew the tax collector to be his friend and follower: Matthew, the traitor…Matthew, the man who had sold out to the occupying power, gone to work for them, and collected exorbitant taxes on their behalf, no doubt lining his own pockets with part of the proceeds.

Secondly, Jesus sat at table with Matthew’s cronies, more tax collectors and other sinners whose transgressions are not identified. “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” the disciples were asked. Not waiting for them to answer that for him, Jesus interrupts: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick…I desire mercy, not sacrifice…I have come to call not the righteous, but sinners.”  

Notice, that in neither case did Jesus ask his friends to clean up their act before associating with them. He didn’t tell Matthew, “Say you’re sorry for betraying your people. Give them back what you stole. And promise never to do it again!” Now, maybe it’s implicit in Matthew’s willingness to follow Jesus that he will forsake his former way of life, but that is not named as a pre-condition.

Same with the other tax collectors and sinners. Apparently Jesus didn’t say, “Reform your lives and then I’ll break bread with you.” He shared their table first and only then, we assume, invited them to change. That, it seems to me, is the difference between “works righteousness” and justification by grace.

Works righteousness is “being good in order to be saved”. Justification by grace is “being good in thanksgiving for the fact that you have already been saved!” What difference does it make?

Only this: you can never work hard enough or be good enough to earn salvation. You’ll always be striving and straining, but never get there. But when you realize that you have been given God’s love and salvation as a gift, you can quite literally breathe a sign of relief – and, in thanksgiving, begin a lifelong journey of living a life which will please the One who loves you! The One who desires mercy…not sacrifice!  

I note that Jack Spong is on a rant recently about our liturgical custom of concluding reading from scripture with “The Word of the Lord.” And the expected response: “Thanks be to God.” The precipitating event was attending his local parish church several weeks ago when the First Reading was the story of the prophet Nathan condemining David for his sins (2 Samuel 12).

The story is great. But the concluding line? “Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the Lord, the child that is born to you shall die.”

“The Word of the Lord!” “Thanks be to God!”

I must say I have some sympathy with Jack’s position on this. I have no difficulty declaring that I believe the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be the Word of God. In fact, I have declared that publicly at least four times — once at each ordination and once by voting for a General Convention resolution attesting to the same.

But that is different from saying that every verse, story, and chapter of the Bible is “the Word of the Lord.” The Bible itself contains progressive revelation and is, in some sense, self-correcting within its very pages.

Perhaps you have shared with me the same experience of having to stifle a smile or some embarrassment by loudly proclaiming “Thanks be to God” after the reading of some lesson in which thousands are slaughtered or babies killed by God.

I think there is a solution to this. Rather than selectively deciding which passage of scripture should be designated as “The Word of the Lord” (a very dangerous undertaking!) perhaps we should just retire the use of such a concluding statement altogether. “Here ends the Reading (Epistle)” is rubrically permitted. As is, I might add, simply letting the reading trail off into silent reflection since the rubrics are permissive (“After each Reading, the Reader MAY say…”)   

Silence is often the best response to the readings. Lectio divina can also include “arguing with” scripture in good Hebrew fashion as well as letting it convict, convert, and save us. Let us not be afraid to wrestle with scripture even as Jacob wrestled with the angel!

Thanks be to God!