Violence and Vacation Bible School

Vacation Bible School is happening this week in my church family (Zoar Church).  VBS is a tradition dating back to… well… a long time ago.  It’s basically a whole week of kids singing, snacking, running and learning.

I like the memory verses for our VBS this year.  The first one comes from the most quoted passage in the Jewish tradition, called the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4-5).  Devout Jews still recite it every morning and evening.  It goes like this.  Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one.  Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all you soul and with all your strength.

The second also comes from the Hebrew Scriptures (Leviticus 19:34) and it says, The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born.  Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt.  I am the LORD your God. 

Jesus put the two together and said that they are “alike;” which means, you can’t do one without doing the other (Matthew 22:37-39).    

Here’s the thing.  I read a lot of well meaning writers that have a lot to say about violence fueled by religious fervor.  And I can’t really argue with them.  Many millions of people have died, sometimes horrifically, in the name of religion.  The Christian tradition has to share this black mark.  The Crusades, the Inquisitions, religious persecution by the Reformers and other atrocities are part of our history.  No use denying that.  Sadly, much violence is still done in the name of religion.

But may I respectfully make two observations.

First, when we kill in the name of our religion we may claim to be following the will of God, but just because we make the claim doesn’t mean that it is true. 

If we read the Bible through the lens of Jesus Christ, I believe we come away with the distinct impression that those who do violence in God’s name are tragically mistaken.  I think it is really hard to read the teachings of Jesus, or his follower’s interpretation of those teachings, and glean any other idea.  (See Matthew 5:38-48, Romans 12:9-21, 1^st Peter 3:8-12, 1^st John 3:11-18)

Secondly, although many lives have been taken in the name of religion (we can’t minimize that fact, nor should we), many millions of lives have been - and are being made better because our Scriptures teach us to love.  This is the central tenet of the Christian faith; to love… to love with all our hearts… to love actively… to love generously… to love like God loved us… sacrificially, selflessly, with a servant’s heart (Philippians 2:5-8)

If you research the historical development of hospitals, schools, orphanages, hospice care, elderly care etc. you will discover that they all have their roots deeply planted in the Jesus movement.  There is no viable indication that, without the church, the world would have ever known the kind of compassion we now take for granted.

I would argue that the compassionate, philanthropic tendencies of the 21^st century world are largely the result of the 1^st century Jesus Movement.  In fact, I don’t think any historian worth his salt would deny that the world we live in has been forever changed because of a crucified Rabbi named Jesus and the movement he launched. 

Simply stated, the church, with all her flaws (and there are many) is teaching the world what love looks like… and it looks like Jesus!

Here’s what I know for sure.  This week children are learning to love others based on the fundamental belief that God loves… that God is love.  They are learning to put that love into practice by serving other human beings.  They are learning that love looks like giving food to kids who don’t have enough food.  (Literally, they are bringing food that goes into backpacks to be delivered to kids in our community who otherwise won’t have enough food to eat this summer!)

These are great kids that will grow into adults who love and heal their world and it is happening because they are learning the most fundamental teachings of the church.  I would argue that it’s hard to argue with that.

I’m happy to hear your thoughts.

A Chapter From My Story

This past Sunday I shared a little bit of my story with my church family.  (If you’re interested you can listen to it at zoarchurch.com.)  It’s still on my mind.

I told our folks that as a six year old child I embraced the beautiful, expansive, overwhelming love of Jesus Christ.  I remember being enveloped in his forgiveness and grace as I made my public profession of faith and was plunged into the waters of baptism. 

But soon I was being baptized into other, strange, murky waters; waters of doubt, fear and confusion as I struggled to believe (or doubted if I really believed) everything I had been taught.  Unfortunately for me, there was no room for doubt in the faith tradition of my childhood (which I guess would best be described as Fundamentalism).  If you doubted, you were lost.  And so most of the time I felt lost.   

For me faith was complicated. 

Faith, for me, wasn’t really faith in Jesus Christ.  It was really faith in me.  I was actually believing in my ability to believe.  I was placing faith in my capacity to somehow produce faith.  I turned “having faith” into just another way to earn my salvation because “having faith” depended on me.    

I hope that makes sense.  Maybe, for you, it does.  Maybe you can relate.  Maybe it strikes a chord deep in your spiritual psyche.  Maybe the way I felt is the way you feel.

So just a couple thoughts for my fellow recovering fundamentalists.

v  In the Bible “to believe” is not really about intellectual agreement with a set of doctrinal statements; although there is nothing wrong with that.  “Believing” is more about entrusting yourself into the care of another. 

I think that’s what the six year old Rob did.  They don’t call it childlike faith for nothing!  It took years for me to reconnect with that kind of childlike faith.  And sometimes I find myself needing to reconnect again.

v  I think faith and doubt can coexist.  In fact, for me, they go together quite naturally.  John Ortberg has observed that if a person has no doubt then that person doesn’t have faith… he has certainty.  After Mother Teresa died, her journals revealed that she struggled with great doubt and fear. 

It’s somehow comforting to me to know that one of the greatest icons of faith also had doubt.  So I don’t feel too bad when I do too.  

v  I don’t think that God is waiting on us to somehow believe enough, or believe all the right stuff.  Wouldn’t that make God more dependent on us than we are on him?  I tend to believe that the heart of God is open to any trusting soul.