As with many Christians across the globe yesterday I celebrated Maundy Thursday. The day has a deep liturgical tradition in Christianity, and it begins the great Three-Day worship ending with the Easter Vigil on Saturday. (Good Friday is the third worship.) But even though I celebrated Maundy Thursday, I did not participate or even a view a footwashing ceremony. That would be stupid.
The ceremony--it is not a ritual, as I have never seen everyone in a congregation participate in the ritual, usually just a few are involved in some kind of ceremonial sideshow--involves someone wrapping a towel around their waist, splashing some water on a person or two's feet, and wiping them dry. A moment of dramatic silence follows, and then we are on to the offering. Did you like our show?
As easy as it is to make fun of footwashing, we should note that for many people in the world, shoes are not an option. Footwashing is in deed for many still an act of service and hospitality. And in places where shoes are only for the wealthy, footwashing might still carry the theological and religious freight of a new commandment. (The word "Maundy" means commandment.)
But that ain't so in our world...everyone wears shoes. And socks too. I wear Birkenstocks (and yes this may be a plug, but they are the only sandals I wear) about 10 months out of the year. I don't wear them if there's a lot of rain or snow. But I do wear them if the temperature is 0 degrees. My feet sweat at all temperatures. But even as often as I wear sandals, and as dirty as my feet might get, to have someone else wash my feet is not an act of service. It would be an act of slavery.
Footwashing goes against the very grain of having freedom in the first place. It's why it was problematic for the disciples when Jesus did it to them, and it's even more problematic for us today. It's denying the freedom we have been given to wash our own feet. In a world that assumes freedom (even if all people aren't free), footwashing becomes an act of slavery. And slavery, just to remind everyone, is bad. So why would you want to ceremonialize an act of slavery? Just because Jesus did? He died on a cross too, but we don't have people going up on crosses just to show how painful that love can be?
Consequently, footwashing in our culture looks fake (it is, but not because it's sacrilege not to wear socks and shoes, but because it denies us the freedom we were granted on the cross 2000 years ago.) In order for footwashing to have any kind of valid reason we must assume we were not freed by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. But why would we assume that? What's the point of assuming we're not free? Something might trap us from exercising our freedom, but it is probably not our feet.
If you really want to commemorate the service to others Jesus mandates in the new commandment to love each other, stage a play between a mortgage banker and a single mom trying to get a house. At least there we don't have to pretend Jesus didn't free us, in fact, we have to hope he did; or, what chance does the mom have?
The issue I have with footwashing ceremonies is not because they are stupid or even counter-cultural. Christian congregations do a lot of things that are stupid and counter-cultural, and they are important and valuable to God's mission for world. The issue I have is that in order for the ceremony to make sense I have to set aside the very freedom of the new commandment I was given in order to pretend to do the new commandment. That is play-acting. It is not worship. And people know this, instinctively in most cases, because a secular version of freedom is indoctrinated into all of us.
If you want to help your people don't force them to believe the freedom they were given was not given to them by Jesus so that they can show you how they serve. Rather, help them see the freedom they were given, and how that freedom translates into serving others. And it's not by washing feet. That doesn't serve anybody in a culture dominated by socks and shoes. The new commandment is way more than washing body parts, but it is sad that so many people only saw that version of the commandment ceremonialized last night. And, if they believe Christianity is about something as trivial as that, why would they return?
And over the last 60 years many of them have not returned, because it turns out that footwashing is just one of many things congregations have been play-acting with instead of worshiping God and celebrating the gift of freedom from sin and freedom to serve. People leave congregations not because they do strange things but because they do trivial things. Footwashing, as an act of love, is about as trivial as you can get. And that trviality is killing us.
May your tables be full and your conversations be true.
Your Blog Steward
- Scott Frederickson
- Omaha, Nebraska, United States
- I am more and more convinced that most congregations die from a staggering lack of imagination. Let's change that. Let's imagine a creative future with God and each other together. Drop me a line on email or leave a comment if you have thoughts on God, Jesus, congregations, the church or whatever.... I look forward to our conversations.
Friday, March 30, 2018
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
Hypocrisy; Or, How to Live as you Think or Believe
Hypocrisy is part and parcel of the religious life. To my knowledge, every religion eschews hypocrisy, although every critic of religion accuses religion of hypocrisy. That is, according to the critics, religious people are hypocritical of their own hypocrisy...which in a double-negative sort-of-way makes some sense.
But what is "hypocrisy?" Basically, hypocrisy is an incongruity between how one thinks, feels, believes, and how one acts or behaves. "Putting on a good face" is a hypocritical activity. You don't really feel good, but you pretend to for some reason or another. In religious terms, saying you believe in God or love or forgiveness, but never living or behaving as if God matters to you, or never loving or forgiving anyone or anything is hypocritical. Jesus was a fervent opponent of hypocrisy.
So hypocrisy is bad. OK. But why do we do it? Although there are many answers to such a question, as a theologian it comes down to a couple of things: 1) we haven't thought enough about what we actually believe so that we do not know how hypocritically we behave. Fortunately, we have many critics of religion who are willing to help us think about what we might actually believe. So there is that.
2) We don't actually trust enough in the God we believe to change our behavior. In fact, when we do have those levels of trust that change our behavior, there are often a plethora of critics who assert that we are "crazy," or "religious fanatics." But for most of us, a little hypocrisy is a lot easier on the pocketbook and our life expectancy. Christian Liberation theologians have long advocated that God has a "preferential option for the poor." But do we actually behave as if that is true? Does God really love poor people more than others? If we really believed that was true, and we wanted to be on God's side, wouldn't we all strive to be poor? That we are not is just evidence of our hypocrisy.
One of the great hypocrisies Lutherans are responsible for, although Christians in general were not shown in a good light either, is the rise of National Socialism and Adolph Hitler in the first third of the 20th Century. Although many Lutheran theologians at the time claimed to be following the Lutheran theological tradition (more on that in an upcoming post) they wound up betraying that theological tradition by behaving in very quietistic and evil-enabling ways. In other words, they were hypocrites.
As far as Christians go, Lutherans have one of the most obvious ways of avoiding charges of hypocrisy. Since our theological tradition claims that works of love and righteousness are not directly connected to our belief in God and God's love, our behavior does not need to be justified theologically. We can own up to our failures in behavior because we believe that our behaviors, even our best ones, do not condition God's love for us. In other words, you could murder somebody and we believe that God may still love that person. I once saw a very Lutheran sign on a vending machine-- "You're lucky God loves you, no one else does." In our theological tradition the worst-behaved person is still loved by God, and that belief can eliminate a lot of need for hypocrisy.
If you can say whatever needs to be said or do whatever needs to be done because you believe that your words or behaviors do not condition God's love for you, you can do a lot of things other people cannot do because they are afraid of God. You can forgive somebody, for example. So if you believe in forgiveness, and in the process of living you are harmed, you can actually behave in a forgiving way towards your enemy. You don't have to pretend in order to have God not judge you, you can actually behave as the situation calls for because your behavior does not affect God's love for you. You may still be judged by God, but you won't be a hypocrite to the rest of us.
Hypocrisy is revealed when the incongruity of thought and behavior rises to the surface. Jesus of Nazareth once said that one is judged by their fruit. And that is true. But one is not loved by their fruit, and that's the difference between being a hypocrite and being a witness to your faith. When you live with an understanding that God loves you, and that behaviors can be judged good or bad and not affect that love, you are on the way to eliminating hypocrisy in your life. Because in this case what you think or believe does make a difference in how you behave, but not because you think or believe properly, but rather because you trust that what you think or believe is actually true.
May your table be full, and your conversations be true.
But what is "hypocrisy?" Basically, hypocrisy is an incongruity between how one thinks, feels, believes, and how one acts or behaves. "Putting on a good face" is a hypocritical activity. You don't really feel good, but you pretend to for some reason or another. In religious terms, saying you believe in God or love or forgiveness, but never living or behaving as if God matters to you, or never loving or forgiving anyone or anything is hypocritical. Jesus was a fervent opponent of hypocrisy.
So hypocrisy is bad. OK. But why do we do it? Although there are many answers to such a question, as a theologian it comes down to a couple of things: 1) we haven't thought enough about what we actually believe so that we do not know how hypocritically we behave. Fortunately, we have many critics of religion who are willing to help us think about what we might actually believe. So there is that.
2) We don't actually trust enough in the God we believe to change our behavior. In fact, when we do have those levels of trust that change our behavior, there are often a plethora of critics who assert that we are "crazy," or "religious fanatics." But for most of us, a little hypocrisy is a lot easier on the pocketbook and our life expectancy. Christian Liberation theologians have long advocated that God has a "preferential option for the poor." But do we actually behave as if that is true? Does God really love poor people more than others? If we really believed that was true, and we wanted to be on God's side, wouldn't we all strive to be poor? That we are not is just evidence of our hypocrisy.
One of the great hypocrisies Lutherans are responsible for, although Christians in general were not shown in a good light either, is the rise of National Socialism and Adolph Hitler in the first third of the 20th Century. Although many Lutheran theologians at the time claimed to be following the Lutheran theological tradition (more on that in an upcoming post) they wound up betraying that theological tradition by behaving in very quietistic and evil-enabling ways. In other words, they were hypocrites.
As far as Christians go, Lutherans have one of the most obvious ways of avoiding charges of hypocrisy. Since our theological tradition claims that works of love and righteousness are not directly connected to our belief in God and God's love, our behavior does not need to be justified theologically. We can own up to our failures in behavior because we believe that our behaviors, even our best ones, do not condition God's love for us. In other words, you could murder somebody and we believe that God may still love that person. I once saw a very Lutheran sign on a vending machine-- "You're lucky God loves you, no one else does." In our theological tradition the worst-behaved person is still loved by God, and that belief can eliminate a lot of need for hypocrisy.
If you can say whatever needs to be said or do whatever needs to be done because you believe that your words or behaviors do not condition God's love for you, you can do a lot of things other people cannot do because they are afraid of God. You can forgive somebody, for example. So if you believe in forgiveness, and in the process of living you are harmed, you can actually behave in a forgiving way towards your enemy. You don't have to pretend in order to have God not judge you, you can actually behave as the situation calls for because your behavior does not affect God's love for you. You may still be judged by God, but you won't be a hypocrite to the rest of us.
Hypocrisy is revealed when the incongruity of thought and behavior rises to the surface. Jesus of Nazareth once said that one is judged by their fruit. And that is true. But one is not loved by their fruit, and that's the difference between being a hypocrite and being a witness to your faith. When you live with an understanding that God loves you, and that behaviors can be judged good or bad and not affect that love, you are on the way to eliminating hypocrisy in your life. Because in this case what you think or believe does make a difference in how you behave, but not because you think or believe properly, but rather because you trust that what you think or believe is actually true.
May your table be full, and your conversations be true.
Monday, March 19, 2018
I wonder about Intersectionality and the Lutheran Theological Tradition
I have been reading a lot from colleagues a generation or two younger than me who are imploring our tradition to change. Specifically, in areas of inclusion and intersectionality, two areas our tradition does not carry a progressive track record. I hope they succeed, but I wonder...
Our tradition, for example, is not big on "intersectionality." One way to read the Lutheran theological tradition is to see it as the breakdown of society with the elevation of independence. (This has been the basic Roman Catholic critique of Martin Luther and his tradition since the Diet of Worms in 1521.) If you are going to assert independence as a method of theological interpretation, societal methodologies often take a back seat, especially when facing execution. So although we might wish to include as many people as possible, since we base our inclusion on independence rather than societal rationales, we get a haphazard way of living and being. It's tough to be inclusive if your're the only one.
Our congregations are then centered less in our independence and more in whatever other societal norms and mores are active in our larger community. Although in our theological tradition we claim independence as a value, in our piety we are much less independent, and in some cases we even make our theology subservient to our piety. The result is that those on the margins of society are also on the margins of our congregations, and it's hard to be intersectional when you're in the middle.
On the one hand, Luther offered the possibility for intersectionality* to even be available by placing the contextual situation of the human within his law and gospel paradigm. In fact, the tradition following Luther did an even better job of placing humanity within theological method, so much so that by the time of John Wesley, the Lutheran tradition could be the catalyst for the great Methodist theological tradition centered in a "strangely warmed heart." So the result that those on the margins, or more accurately to date, those who started on the margins of theological discourse, are able to participate at all because of much work done in our Lutheran theological tradition.
But on the other hand, because those following Luther (and in this case Luther himself), were not on the margins in any way but theologically, they could never explicate the intersections that society placed upon our theology. It literally took World War One to get Lutheran theologians to think that maybe God was doing something other in the world than colonizing. This comes from a theological tradition that experienced the Peasant's War, the 100 Years' War, the French Revolution, the American Revolution, the American Civil War, and whatever France and Prussia were doing. Because the Lutheran theological tradition was so centered in a rather calcified way within society, and those in the tradition calcified right along with it, the idea of intersectionality, although available for discernment, was never used.
The result is that in the last 100 years, those formed by the Lutheran theological tradition have come to see great benefit in viewing Lutheran piety in more intersectional ways. As different pieties, almost now by defintion intersectional, begin to be lived in society, the way to be Lutheran has come under great change. And all the change arises from its own theological tradition.
For example, when Lutherans of the ELCA (my own denomination) in 2009 voted (not "discerned," as that had been done years before) to allow LGBTQIA+ people to be in relationships (now marriage) and to be eligible to be ordained leaders, the primary theological rationale was to allow those on the margins the same standing before God as those in the center. We used the nascent form of intersectionality, focused through the crucible of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, to de-center the piety that had so long been the blinder to our theological radicality. This began, for our theological tradition, the way into the future...and I just wonder what I'll see along the way?
The radicality of the Lutheran theological tradition explodes the colonizing tendencies of Lutheran piety practices. Although for some it might seem too radical, it is the same idea in the theological tradition that allowed Luther to burn the papal bull against him. We Lutherans have a history of using our theology to de-center our piety, although it goes dormant every now and then it seems. But I wonder how pieties and practices will change?
Take, for example, attending worship. Somehow attending worship became the prime spiritual practice, and the defining piety for our Lutheran tradition. This was so true that as a child I would go to worship with my grandparents and everybody who was healthy that day was "at church." The rest of the week you did whatever you did, but on Sunday you went to the Lutheran congregation. That's how you knew you were Lutheran. Did all those people believe in the right to self-assert their conscience in defiance of government? No. Did all those people believe in the power of the gospel to correct the abuses of the law? Maybe, at least theoretically, although most never claimed to see it in action, especially if it involved themselves. The few sermons I remember were about the power of Jesus Christ to change lives and about being able to free from a lot of rules and norms. The theological tradition of Luther was there, but it was not being used to critique the very piety that was being lived. So what is the point of worship if it no longer defines your religious or theological identity? Why go to worship? That to me is the main reason why worship attendance declines. Worship is no longer part of who you are. The question facing me is can you still be a Lutheran and not go to worship? I wonder...?
Once folks started using that theological tradition to critique that colonizing piety of "Lutheranism?" You begin to get the intersectionality we now experience so often in our congregations. From my reading of the history, the Lutheran theological tradition was always intersectional, but it took us 500 years to apply it to our piety. I wonder what else we've missed?
May your tables be full and your conversations be true.
*Intersectionality is not a term of the Lutheran tradition, but the parameters of the idea seems to fit well with an understanding of Luther's Word of God hidden versus the revealed God of the cross. The Gospel always de-centers the Law in Lutheran theology, and this seems to be the basic motivation for intersectional interpretation as well.
Our tradition, for example, is not big on "intersectionality." One way to read the Lutheran theological tradition is to see it as the breakdown of society with the elevation of independence. (This has been the basic Roman Catholic critique of Martin Luther and his tradition since the Diet of Worms in 1521.) If you are going to assert independence as a method of theological interpretation, societal methodologies often take a back seat, especially when facing execution. So although we might wish to include as many people as possible, since we base our inclusion on independence rather than societal rationales, we get a haphazard way of living and being. It's tough to be inclusive if your're the only one.
Our congregations are then centered less in our independence and more in whatever other societal norms and mores are active in our larger community. Although in our theological tradition we claim independence as a value, in our piety we are much less independent, and in some cases we even make our theology subservient to our piety. The result is that those on the margins of society are also on the margins of our congregations, and it's hard to be intersectional when you're in the middle.
On the one hand, Luther offered the possibility for intersectionality* to even be available by placing the contextual situation of the human within his law and gospel paradigm. In fact, the tradition following Luther did an even better job of placing humanity within theological method, so much so that by the time of John Wesley, the Lutheran tradition could be the catalyst for the great Methodist theological tradition centered in a "strangely warmed heart." So the result that those on the margins, or more accurately to date, those who started on the margins of theological discourse, are able to participate at all because of much work done in our Lutheran theological tradition.
But on the other hand, because those following Luther (and in this case Luther himself), were not on the margins in any way but theologically, they could never explicate the intersections that society placed upon our theology. It literally took World War One to get Lutheran theologians to think that maybe God was doing something other in the world than colonizing. This comes from a theological tradition that experienced the Peasant's War, the 100 Years' War, the French Revolution, the American Revolution, the American Civil War, and whatever France and Prussia were doing. Because the Lutheran theological tradition was so centered in a rather calcified way within society, and those in the tradition calcified right along with it, the idea of intersectionality, although available for discernment, was never used.
The result is that in the last 100 years, those formed by the Lutheran theological tradition have come to see great benefit in viewing Lutheran piety in more intersectional ways. As different pieties, almost now by defintion intersectional, begin to be lived in society, the way to be Lutheran has come under great change. And all the change arises from its own theological tradition.
For example, when Lutherans of the ELCA (my own denomination) in 2009 voted (not "discerned," as that had been done years before) to allow LGBTQIA+ people to be in relationships (now marriage) and to be eligible to be ordained leaders, the primary theological rationale was to allow those on the margins the same standing before God as those in the center. We used the nascent form of intersectionality, focused through the crucible of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, to de-center the piety that had so long been the blinder to our theological radicality. This began, for our theological tradition, the way into the future...and I just wonder what I'll see along the way?
The radicality of the Lutheran theological tradition explodes the colonizing tendencies of Lutheran piety practices. Although for some it might seem too radical, it is the same idea in the theological tradition that allowed Luther to burn the papal bull against him. We Lutherans have a history of using our theology to de-center our piety, although it goes dormant every now and then it seems. But I wonder how pieties and practices will change?
Take, for example, attending worship. Somehow attending worship became the prime spiritual practice, and the defining piety for our Lutheran tradition. This was so true that as a child I would go to worship with my grandparents and everybody who was healthy that day was "at church." The rest of the week you did whatever you did, but on Sunday you went to the Lutheran congregation. That's how you knew you were Lutheran. Did all those people believe in the right to self-assert their conscience in defiance of government? No. Did all those people believe in the power of the gospel to correct the abuses of the law? Maybe, at least theoretically, although most never claimed to see it in action, especially if it involved themselves. The few sermons I remember were about the power of Jesus Christ to change lives and about being able to free from a lot of rules and norms. The theological tradition of Luther was there, but it was not being used to critique the very piety that was being lived. So what is the point of worship if it no longer defines your religious or theological identity? Why go to worship? That to me is the main reason why worship attendance declines. Worship is no longer part of who you are. The question facing me is can you still be a Lutheran and not go to worship? I wonder...?
Once folks started using that theological tradition to critique that colonizing piety of "Lutheranism?" You begin to get the intersectionality we now experience so often in our congregations. From my reading of the history, the Lutheran theological tradition was always intersectional, but it took us 500 years to apply it to our piety. I wonder what else we've missed?
May your tables be full and your conversations be true.
*Intersectionality is not a term of the Lutheran tradition, but the parameters of the idea seems to fit well with an understanding of Luther's Word of God hidden versus the revealed God of the cross. The Gospel always de-centers the Law in Lutheran theology, and this seems to be the basic motivation for intersectional interpretation as well.
Monday, March 12, 2018
Some thoughts on worship
15 years or so ago a woman, about my age, came into my office seeking advice about her life. I'd married her to a man a few years earlier, but that relationship had ended soon after the honeymoon. As it turned out, most of her adult relationships went that way. So, knowing this, I asked why she wanted to see me?
As the tears flowed, it turns out, all her relationships began to go to shit when she was 6 years old, and she was told she was not a good enough daughter to come to this church by her mother's friends. Apparently, the women who sat around her family in Sunday worship would pick on this girl pretty much every Sunday in her memory. Not other kids, grown women. This girl wasn't abused by a bad father or uncle, but by her mom's friends who for some reason thought they were "helping." They weren't.
One day, visiting a congregation to hear a friend preach I sat behind two ladies who spent the entire time during the sermon commenting on other ladies in the church. During the offering I tapped them on the shoulder and asked, "I'm just visiting here, how much do you charge for worship?" They told me, "Oh, church is free." I nodded, and said, "Then, how much for the gossip?" My friend went to find a better congregation a few months later.
My wife is a preacher, and she had just started at her new congregation, and I hadn't been introduced to the folks of this congregation yet as the new pastor's husband. So I sat in worship, and during the sermon of her colleague, I listened to a brother and sister literally use the F-word to each other arguing about who "had" to take care of "mom" this week. As we left worship, I mentioned to them that brothers and sisters don't have to like each other, but their mom has the third commandment. They may want to think about that.
I figure I have been to over 6000 worship services during my life. And many of them I am not in the congregation, but rather leading from the front, often from the pulpit. But I am generally scared to worship out in the "nave." (That's where the congregation sits in the room.) Scary shit happens out there.
I only have one piece of advice for people who dare to go to worship. Don't be an idiot. Don't try to parent the children who aren't yours. Don't try to use worship to solve your issues, but rather use the time to solve you. Listen to the people around you. Prayer is a time to hear God, you may want to listen?
I assume most people come to worship to participate in the life and being of God. We want to figure out how we can be part of a God's preferred future for the world. We want to make a difference. And worship can--and does--do that. But sometimes some of us forget, and we treat worship like any other hour of the day or week. It's probably not the end of the world if that happens every now and then, but worship can be much more..I hope it is for you.
May your table be full and your conversations be true.
As the tears flowed, it turns out, all her relationships began to go to shit when she was 6 years old, and she was told she was not a good enough daughter to come to this church by her mother's friends. Apparently, the women who sat around her family in Sunday worship would pick on this girl pretty much every Sunday in her memory. Not other kids, grown women. This girl wasn't abused by a bad father or uncle, but by her mom's friends who for some reason thought they were "helping." They weren't.
One day, visiting a congregation to hear a friend preach I sat behind two ladies who spent the entire time during the sermon commenting on other ladies in the church. During the offering I tapped them on the shoulder and asked, "I'm just visiting here, how much do you charge for worship?" They told me, "Oh, church is free." I nodded, and said, "Then, how much for the gossip?" My friend went to find a better congregation a few months later.
My wife is a preacher, and she had just started at her new congregation, and I hadn't been introduced to the folks of this congregation yet as the new pastor's husband. So I sat in worship, and during the sermon of her colleague, I listened to a brother and sister literally use the F-word to each other arguing about who "had" to take care of "mom" this week. As we left worship, I mentioned to them that brothers and sisters don't have to like each other, but their mom has the third commandment. They may want to think about that.
I figure I have been to over 6000 worship services during my life. And many of them I am not in the congregation, but rather leading from the front, often from the pulpit. But I am generally scared to worship out in the "nave." (That's where the congregation sits in the room.) Scary shit happens out there.
I only have one piece of advice for people who dare to go to worship. Don't be an idiot. Don't try to parent the children who aren't yours. Don't try to use worship to solve your issues, but rather use the time to solve you. Listen to the people around you. Prayer is a time to hear God, you may want to listen?
I assume most people come to worship to participate in the life and being of God. We want to figure out how we can be part of a God's preferred future for the world. We want to make a difference. And worship can--and does--do that. But sometimes some of us forget, and we treat worship like any other hour of the day or week. It's probably not the end of the world if that happens every now and then, but worship can be much more..I hope it is for you.
May your table be full and your conversations be true.
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