A SEASON FOR REASONING

Advent is the time when we are given the time to think about the event we will celebrate at the end of this time: Christmas. If you are like me, sometimes we spend so much time doing everything we think we need to do to celebrate Christmas that we spend little or no time thinking about the meaning of the Christmas event. And then when Christmas arrives, it is quickly celebrated and just as quickly forgotten as we move on with life – and getting ready for New Year’s Day.

What we sometimes forget in our forgetting to reflect on the meaning of Christmas during this Advent season is that the real meaning of Christmas is to pervade all of life and not simply the spiritual part. Jesus was born into a very real world that is much like ours, in fact is ours, with the very same problems. The issues Jesus came to address are still with us, much to our condemnation as a people of faith. For had we and those who came before us took Jesus’ message seriously, we would not be dealing with these problems today.

But we are. Unfortunately, they have become even more compounded because we have made them into political issues rather than moral issues: problems like hunger, disease, health care, sexual issues of every kind, to name just a few for starters. These issues are not Red vs. Blue, Right vs. Left, Democrat vs. Republican, or any other category we use to decide how they should be addressed. For in debating how we should address them we almost always forget that we are taking about people and not about politics.

Jesus’ concern was first, last and always about people. It was not about political correctness or even about the Law. If there was a person in need, a person who was hungry or thirsty or who was discriminated against for any reason, that person was of immediate concern for Jesus – and, of course, should be for us. Debating how to address issues is needed just as long as we don’t forget the reason for the debate, the discussion, in the first place: meeting the needs of the people.

Jesus came among us to remind us that our life of faith is to be about a life of service one to another. No one is to be exempt from our ministry. No one. Jack Harberer, editor of Presbyterian Outlook, writes this: “Wisdom should at least teach us two things. First, in order to bear Christ’s purposes to the world, we need to advocate policies with both eyes open. While our left eye focuses on woman’s equality, the right eye needs to focus on minimizing abortions. While our left eye focuses on economic injustice, the right eye needs to focus on free enterprise. As the left eye would defend the rights of sexual minorities, the right eye needs to warn against sexual promiscuity. As the left eye attends to welcoming strangers and defending the rights of imprisoned enemy combatants, the right eye needs to sustain the rule of law and to protect against terrorism.”

Advent is the season for seeing with both eyes, for seeing as Jesus saw, for reasoning as Jesus reasoned, for refusing to allow politics or anything else to deter us from being about what Jesus was about: seeking and serving all people, respecting the dignity of every human being, loving everyone as Jesus loved. That’s not the easy way. It’s the only way.

WHAT IF?

There’s a story told about Pastor Teefer, a good Lutheran (is that redundant?), who found himself wondering whether there were any golf courses in heaven. He even began to ask the question in his prayers. One day, blessed man that he was, he received a direct answer from on high. “Yes,” said the heavenly messenger, “there are many excellent golf courses in heaven. The greens are always in first-class condition, the weather is always perfect, and you always play with the nicest people. Oh, by the way, we’ve got you down for a foursome on Saturday.”

It’s an apocryphal story, to be sure; or is it? God being God, there is always the possibility that God can and perhaps even will at times speak directly to someone who asks a direct question. What if this were a true story? What if God did speak directly to Pastor Teefer and he knew that come Saturday he would be playing golf in heaven and not getting ready to preach a sermon to his congregation the next day?

What if you or I knew the day, even the hour, when we would meet our Maker? What if that day were this coming Saturday? While the golf addicts among us might want to know if there are golf courses in heaven, (I have always envisioned heaven as something like Pebble Beach or Oakmont, two courses I have played only in my wildest and fondest dreams but will only be able to play in heaven), there is an even more immediate issue on the table.

That issue, of course, is what would I do between now and then. Are there some words I need to say to someone, something I have been putting off for all too long now that needs to be attended to and attended to immediately because the time is too short? Knowing the day and time of our death would change everything, both whether that day was this Saturday or some Saturday off in the distant future.

Or would it? Would we do anything differently if we knew that day as a certitude? Perhaps at first thought, we would respond in the affirmative; “Yes, most certainly!” If that day were in a few days, we might hasten to clear up loose ends, to call those whom we need to forgive or ask forgiveness, to call those we love for one final “I love you,” to mend a fence or two.

Or, even more, should we have to? Should we have to do anything differently? In the sacristy of my home parish there used to be a sign that read: “Celebrate this Mass as if it were your first Mass, your last Mass, your only Mass.” On a more mundane level you and I could be reminded to live this day as if it were the first day of our life, the last day of our life, the only day of our life.”

Living each day to the fullest is what we are called to do. What that means is the question. If we live each day as Jesus lived each day in love and service to one another and thus to our God, we need not be concerned about when we will meet God in eternity nor will we worry about whether there is anything for which we need to make amends or ask forgives or make known our love. We will have done so already.

THE ANSWER IS: “I AM”

The story is told about the great writer and thinker G. K. Chesterton that when a local newspaper posed the question, “What’s wrong with the world?”, he reputedly wrote a brief letter in response. “Dear Sirs: I am. Sincerely Yours, G. K. Chesterton.”

That same question could be posed today. In fact, we have all asked that question numerous times in our lives. We read the newspaper, watch the news on television, surf the web even casually and read one story after another of, as we used to say, “man’s inhumanity to man”. Killings, wars, poverty, disease abound the world over. It was not supposed to be like this. It is not supposed to be like this. But it is and we wonder what’s wrong with the world.

This world of ours is so vast, so huge, even if, due to our ability to communicate instantly, our world seems to be getting smaller and smaller. A tornado happens in Kansas, a tsunami occurs in Japan, a bombing takes place in London and we know about it almost in seconds, if we happen to be tuned in. The problems, the evils, are often beyond our imagination and certainly beyond our personal ability to resolve.

We even have to wonder if anybody or any body is strong enough, has enough resources, even if there is a will, to do something, anything, about the mess except to lament what is happening and the try to find someone or something where the blame can be laid. Unlike Chesterton, however, we are likely to find scapegoats other than ourselves. We can find innumerable people to blame, perhaps even God, were we brave enough to do so, but we are reluctant to take any responsibility ourselves.

Yet, Chesterton was absolutely correct. He hit the proverbial nail on the head. The problems in the world are the result of millions, billions, of individual sinful and selfish acts. Granted, one less selfish action on our personal part will be insignificant in reducing the pain and suffering. No one will notice except, perhaps, the one towards whom our action was to be directed. But in the grand scheme of things, it will be like a drop of water in a huge ocean.

Nevertheless, to discount even one small act, to not take any blame for the situation the world is in, is the main reason why there are so many problems in the world. We do sinful things, you and I, because we convince ourselves that our actions won’t hurt anyone or at least not hurt everyone. We never, or hardly ever, look at the bigger picture because we see only one little part of it. Or is it that we freely choose to close our eyes to the truth?

The first step in making this world a better place, the first step in removing the problems that surround us and that cause so much unjust pain and suffering to so many people, is for each of us to do as Chesterton did and that is to own up to our own complicity in creating the mess the world is now in. The second step is to do something about it, and that is to be personally less sinful, less selfish. Again, that will not make a significant difference, but it is a start. As the song about peace says, let it begin with me.

STEREOTYPES

If the truth were told, most, if not all, of us are guilty of stereotyping both individuals and institutions, at least occasionally. A stereotype begins with the assumed word “all”, as in “all Italians are,” “all businesses are,” “all lawyers are,” and then we add our conclusion to what all these people or institutions are even though we know that not all, or even most, Italians or businesses or lawyers are what we just said they are.

Of course, there are also times when our stereotypes do not denigrate others but, in fact, praise them. Even then, again, while our praises may be well-received by the particular group, they and we know that not everyone in that group can be so praised. Not all Italians like wine, opera and garlic. I am full-blooded Italian and don’t like any of them even those most Italians I know, even those in my own family, do.

Or as someone else put it this way: Heaven is where the police are British, the chefs are Italian, the mechanics are German, the lovers are French and it’s all organized by the Swiss. On the other hand, Hell is where the police are German, the chefs are British, the mechanics are French, the lovers are Swiss and it’s all organized by the Italians. Wonderful stereotypes to be sure.

To be sure, also, those stereotypes are rather close to the truth, if the truth were told. Yes, some British police are brutal, some Italians can’t cook their way out of a skillet, some Germans don’t know a wrench from a screwdriver, some French are cold fish and some Swiss can’t keep their checkbooks balanced. But in general whoever described heaven that way came close to a fair stereotype…and of hell, too!

Stereotypes may be fine as far as they go and they only go so far. They serve as an introduction, if you will, but only as a tentative one. If we want to go deeper into a subject or get to know another on anything but a superficial level, then we had better hold loose with that initial stereotype we have of that person otherwise it will only color our impression but also make it almost, if not, impossible to truly get to know who that person is and what makes him or her tick.

Stereotypes are generalizations and generalizations are nothing upon which we can build any relationship. In fact, they impede the making of relationships, which, to be honest again, may be one reason why we sometimes cling to them. If all fill-in-the-blanks think or act that way and we don’t like that way, we don’t have to deal with this particular person we have lumped in with that group.

Think what a time Jesus would have had had he allowed local stereotyping determine whom he called as disciples: all fisherman are dull, all tax collectors are thieves, all, well, the list goes on. Jesus never lumped anyone into any category. He met each person as an individual; and instead of pre-judging him or her, he allowed that person’s persona to manifest itself on its own. That was not easy for him, being human, and it is not easy for humans either. But it is the only way to get to know another. It is also the only way to live in community one with another.

TEACHER, POLICEMAN, SERVANT

There are many ways to get a point across, to make known what should be done in this or that instance. The first way and the most obvious way is to be a teacher. A teacher stands in front of the class prepared to teach a lesson. She has prepared herself to use words and examples on how best to get across the lesson, is ready to answer questions if she hasn’t been clear enough. At the end of the class she hopes that the lesson she taught was understood by one and all.

What she cannot be certain of, even if she is certain everyone clearly understood the lesson, is that each student would incorporate that lesson into his or her life, never forget what was taught and then live the lesson fully and faithfully. That is the dream of every teacher and the goal of every lesson taught but it is not always the lesson learned nor the lesson lived. A teacher can only teach; she cannot do anything to make certain that the lesson is lived.

Thus, is would seem, that another person is needed to make certain that the lesson taught is the lesson lived and that is the policeman who enforces the lesson. His message is that unless we do what we have been taught to do, there will be a penalty to be paid, a punishment to be enforced. The student may not want to do what has been taught because he has been taught and he knows that it is the right thing to do but will do it because he does not want to pay the penalty for disobeying and disregarding the lesson.

Teachers can teach a lesson in words and policeman can enforce that lesson though fear but the only real way to get the lesson across is to live it. That is the role of the servant. The servant teaches by lived example and can only hope that the example of his or her life is sufficient to keep the student who has truly learned that living lesson from going astray. It is a hope but is also no guarantee.

Our goal as Christians, as followers of Jesus, is to teach as Jesus taught: in words, for certain. The only police tactics Jesus employed were to remind his students that the only thing they had to fear from not following the lesson he was teaching was the pain they would bring upon themselves if they did not. Selfishness always catches up to us. But Jesus taught mostly by the example of his life but even that was no guarantee that the lessons taught would be lessons followed.

There is a story about a mother was preparing pancakes for her sons, Kyle 5, and Ryan 3. The boys began to argue over who would get the first pancake. Their mother saw the opportunity for a moral lesson. “If Jesus were sitting here, He would say, 'Let my brother have the first pancake, I can wait.’” Kyle turned to his younger brother and said, “Ryan, you be Jesus!”

The truth is that no matter how well the lesson has been taught to us, and no matter how deeply ingrained into the our being the lesson is, and no matter how terrible and painful the punishment is for not following that lesson, and no matter how great the example we have observed, there is still no guarantee that we will live the lesson. See above: Kyle.

PURGATORY AND HELL

When I was growing up, purgatory was assumed to be my first destination when I died. After all, being human and being a sinner I was going to die in some state of sin, hopefully not in a state of mortal sin, which would consign me to hell for eternity. There was that fear, of course, fear that if I indeed did commit a mortal sin and did not get to confession before I died, hellfire and brimstone waited my unfortunate soul.

Purgatory was the place – or at least the state of being because I had no idea what type of being I would be in death – where I would first go in order to be purgated, if that is a word, cleansed of my sins before I would be allowed into heaven. What that purgation consisted of and how long it would last and, even more, how painful it might be, was left to my imagination. But no matter how long or how painful, it would certainly be better than hell.

Purgatory is no longer of concern. It hasn’t been for a long time because purgatory is, frankly, not theological. If we believe Jesus died to save us, to free us from our sins, to forgive our sins, then our sins are forgiven. Period. If, however, we believe that when we die, we die in sin, and we do, but those sins still need to be cleansed, then what we are saying is that Jesus’ death on the cross was insufficient. I have not found anyone who would dare maintain that it wasn’t.

On the other hand, if we do not hold that Jesus died for our sins, we have to hold that God is, as we believe, love, Love Itself. And love, certainly Love, always forgives. Period. No ands, ifs or buts; no exceptions. So whether Jesus died for our sins or our sins are forgiven because God loves us unconditionally and forgives us unconditionally, there is thus no need for purgatory.

Purgatory in the life to come, that is. I still believe in purgatory and I still believe in hell. I believe that I – all of us – go through our purgatory in this life. We know, certainly believe, that our sins are forgiven. And they are. They are wiped away. But what remains and what God cannot do and will not do is wipe away the effects of our sins, the pain our selfishness causes to those we love and even to ourselves.

Going through purgatory, for me at least, is that journey from sinning, through realizing what I have done and the pain my selfishness has caused to others, especially to those I love most, coming to terms with that selfishness, doing all I can to redress the harm I have caused and resolving, to the best of my ability and with God’s grace, to not to it again. There is no guarantee, however, that I will not sin again and that I will go through another bout of purgatory, but hopefully it will be less painful the next time.

I believe in the purgatory of the here-and-now, not of the hereafter. I also believe in a hell in the hereafter, but not a hell I may be consigned to because of my sins but a hell I have freely chosen. God does not send us to hell. We freely choose to be without God for all eternity in death. Is such a choice possible?  Yes, unless we willingly and freely choose to go through the many purgatories of this life. But the choice is ours and not God’s.

BEING ON THE WAY IS THE WAY

Every parent has heard more than once the plaint from the back seat, “Are we there yet?” Children by their very nature are impatient. They have no concept of time or distance. When my sister was teaching school, on her birthday she always used to ask her first-graders how old they thought she was. Their answers ranged from 10 years to 100. They had no idea. She always appreciated the “25” response and choked on any response well past her real age at the time.

To children ten minutes is no different than ten hours, three miles no different than three hundred. What they care about is the moment. They want what they want right now, not ten minutes from now. They want grandma’s house to be right around the next bend and now twenty miles down the road. That is their way. They do not want to be on the way; they want to be there…and now.

As adults we are really no different. We want to get where we are going, wherever it is we are going, and we want to be there now. We may enjoy being on the way, but we would rather already be there: at the office, at the beach, at church, wherever. We would prefer not to have to wait fifteen minutes for our prescription to be filled, two months for the surgery just to be scheduled, six years to retirement. Right now would be best.

Our impatience with time and distance notwithstanding, the fact is that being on the way is the way, the way of life. While there will always be a destination towards which we are headed – grandma’s, retirement, even heaven – what is important is what is happening on the way. What is important is what we are doing on the way to wherever it is we are heading. What is also important is what God is doing along our way, both with us and for us on this journey.

What is also important to remember is that the road we are on is not the road to perfection: the perfect visit, the perfect day at work, the perfect life. Nothing we ever do will ever be done perfectly. We can always do something better even if it is only infinitesimally better. We will never be the perfect child, the perfect spouse, the perfect Christian. We will always fall short.

None of this means that we need not try to be better or to do better simply because we will never be perfect. It does mean that we don’t beat ourselves up over the fact that we were less than perfect, that somehow God is going to judge us harshly because we came up short, or because we come up short again and again and again. God knows our imperfections. That is why God is always with us on our journey.

That is also why we must be more attentive to what we are doing on the way rather than what is at the end of the path. We are always on the way even in death. For in death we are on the way to new life. My suspicion is that even in death, even in the resurrected life to come, we will still be on the way. We will still be growing, learning something new, experiencing something we never experienced before. Always being on the way, no matter how long it takes, is the way of life. We need to enjoy the trip.