Politics in the Pulpit

Lately I've heard questions about whether a preacher should endorse a presidential candidate from the pulpit. The general consensus seems to be that this is bad taste. Some people hold this opinion because they feel that sermons shouldn't deal with politics, but I disagree—Jesus himself was a highly political figure. However, I think there is a point embedded in here about how the church should think about the upcoming election.

An issue that seems to me to go along with this question is that of having an American flag on display in the sanctuary. This could probably take up a whole post on its own, but I am in the camp that just doesn't want stars and bars as a backdrop when I'm in worship. The rationale behind that conviction is lengthier than this, but one of the major things is that the church, the body of Christ, is so much bigger than anything the American flag represents. I love the song "King and a Kingdom" by Derek Webb. Here's part of the chorus: "My first allegiance is not to a flag, a country or a man; / ... / It's to a King and a Kingdom." The truth that lies in those words is that the Christian church is intensely political, but that our first allegiance is not to Old Glory but to the cross.

The second verse of that Derek Webb song goes like this: "There are two great lies that I've heard: / The day you eat of the fruit of that tree, you will not surely die / and that Jesus Christ was a white, middle-class Republican / and if you wanna be saved you have to learn to be like Him." These lines may evince a certain political bent, but the point is much broader than that: Jesus was not a Democrat or a Republican. He wasn't even American. Sometimes I feel like we domesticate Jesus so much that we forget that basic fact. Jesus was particular in that he was an individual Israelite, but he was and is universal in that he died for the sins of all. That alone should strike Christians as a command to recognize a power beyond temporal authority, a power that should shape the way in which we conceive of that authority, a power that in a perfect world would be mirrored, though dimly, in human leaders.

The politics of Christ are not about political parties or individual presidential candidates. This does not mean that Christians should not talk about whether they are registered Republicans or Democrats, or whom they favor in the primaries. Too often the American vote is jealously guarded as a personal decision when really there are endless issues surrounding elections that should be talked about in communities whose concern is not for the supposed sanctity or autonomy of each individual's vote but for the greater good. These days it has become very difficult to talk politics with people whose views differ from your own. However, the church should be a place not of fear or dissent but of honesty, respect and love. We are challenged by our communal life in Christ to live out our faith in front of one another, willing to change and improve our understanding and actions if necessary. Perhaps it is inappropriate to endorse a candidate from the pulpit, but that does not mean that all talk of politics should be left at the door when going to church. The moment the church becomes a place where politics are taboo, we forget where we came from and where we are going—we forget Christ.

Room for Doubt

"Without somehow destroying me in the process, how could God reveal himself in a way that would leave no room for doubt? If there were no room for doubt, there would be no room for me." — Frederick Buechner

Doubt is something that is underappreciated in today's society. Doubt is not welcome on Wall Street, in classrooms (on either side of the evolution debate) and even in the pulpit. In a world where security is supposedly constantly threatened, few want leaders, political or religious, to express doubt.

Buechner does not believe, and I do not believe, that this fear of doubt is in the nature of Christianity. In fact, this room for doubt is one of the most appealing aspects of the faith for some. Saying that doubt is OK allows believers to be human. Space for fear and uncertainty is created by the examples of the first followers of Christ, not only his disciples but also others he met in his ministry. The man who cried, "I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24) illustrates the give-and-take of belief and doubt with which many Christians are intimately familiar.

Of course, there is a flipside to the question of doubt. A friend of mine attended a secular summer program in high school, and their motto became "Question Everything." Sponsored by but separate from the public school system, this program was supposed to encourage the state's brightest thinkers to take a step outside the box and to challenge presuppositions; and in this, it succeeded. However, I wonder if "Question Everything" is really applicable in the church. Certainly members should never be discouraged from asking questions, but what I have come to learn over the years both as a believer and as a student of religion is that theology and faith involve a different method of formulating questions than other fields. I wonder if part of this is because the implication of "Question Everything" is that these questions expect answers, but Christians must learn that questions often lead only to more questions, that the wondering and the wandering must be lived into and is not always brought to a neat conclusion. There seems to be a creative tension throughout Scripture and Christian experience between doubt and belief.

Peter doubted and was given the keys to the kingdom of heaven; but it is clear that when he nearly drowned walking to Jesus on the water, it was because he doubted. When Thomas puts his hands into the risen Christ's wounds, Jesus said, "Do not doubt, but believe" (John 20:27). Jesus would prefer for us not to doubt, to believe wholeheartedly, genuinely and without question, but it is also important to note that Jesus rescues Peter from the waves and from his doubt; Jesus does not chide Thomas but willingly gives him the tangible evidence he needs. Christ has the power to help our unbelief, to reveal himself to us, if not always as obviously as to Thomas.

However, throughout Scripture we see that even revelation does not preclude doubt. Many saw Jesus and the prophets before him and heard them speak, but did not believe. Perhaps this is what Buechner meant: doubt is intrinsic to the disconnected state of humanity, and for God to devise a revelation that would leave no room for doubt would be to destroy what it means to be human. As long as we understand ourselves as God's imperfect but well-loved creation, there will always be room for doubt.

Children's Sermons

I have always been wary of children's sermons. At my old church, we had problems with a children's minister who managed to show an abhorrent level of insensitivity towards a pair of girls whose mother died young. Since that string of incidents, no church I've been a part of has had children's sermons. However, I had an interesting experience a few months ago that made me think.

While visiting a friend, I attended her church, a relatively small Methodist congregation. They have a children's sermon every Sunday and apparently everyone in the church absolutely loves delivering the children's sermon—there's a long waiting list just to be able to do it. The particular Sunday I was present, I listened to a late-middle-aged woman deliver a completely incoherent children's sermon that focused solely on the Canada goose.

Jesus was never mentioned. God played no part in her story. Even the environmental tack I think she was trying to take was weakly developed and unclear. Those kids probably walked away having no idea what was said.

But you know what? Any church in America should get down on its knees and thank God for a congregation like that, where the adults are literally lining up to be engaged with the children and youth of the church. The same can be said of a pastor who wants to be a tangible presence in the life of the children there and not just a "pontificating" figure in the pulpit.

Today I see many large, well-established churches suffer for want of youth volunteers and children's Sunday School teachers. If a children's sermon can discourage the sort of age-class silos that are shored up around the children and youth in our churches today, then I will happily listen to a children's sermon on geese if it shows that the adults are taking a genuine interest in the younger generation of believers.

The Lord Directs the Steps

"The human mind plans the way, but the Lord directs the steps."
— Proverbs 16:9

A Prayer from Martin Luther

Look, Lord,
on an empty vessel that needs to be filled.
In faith I am weak—strengthen me.
In love I am cold—warm me and make me fervent
so that my love may go out to my neighbor.
I doubt and am unable to trust you completely.
Lord, strengthen my faith and trust in you.
You are all the treasure I possess.
I am poor, you are rich,
and you came to have mercy on the poor.
I am a sinner, you are goodness.
From you I can receive goodness,
but I can give you nothing.
Therefore I shall stay with you. Amen. — Martin Luther

Hidden in Christ (quote)

"A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man should have to seek Him first to find her." — Maya Angelou

The Golden Compass

I've tried to avoid the debate that has surrounded the release of the movie The Golden Compass. However, while avoiding homework and browsing Facebook, I came across a group called "Do NOT support 'The Golden Compass.'" It currently has 100,998 members.

OK. I read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy (of which The Golden Compass is the first installment, followed by The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass) as a kid and loved it. I have the entire trilogy in audio format on my iPod. I've read other books by Philip Pullman and loved them as well. I'm definitely going to go see the movie.

Somehow, even though I was immersed in Pullman's writing as a child and love his work to this day, I remain a steadfast Christian. The fact that the children in the book supposedly kill God miraculously had no effect on my faith.

Then again, I don't think it's all that miraculous. How many Christians do you think have read or seen The Wizard of Oz? I couldn't count how many times I've seen that movie even if I tried. Why do I bring this up? Well, just think about it: at the end, the wizard, very clearly a God figure whom Dorothy, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion (oh, and Toto, too) have travelled far to see, is revealed as a hoax. The curtain is pulled back and the Wizard of Oz is just a pathetic little man hiding behind smoke and mirrors.

Does anyone see the similarity behind L. Frank Baum's fraudulent wizard-god and Philip Pullman's story? Neither exactly typifies the Christian narrative, but The Wizard of Oz is one of the best-loved stories of a generation (or two...or three?), and I have yet to see anyone revoke their faith because they saw the movie or read Baum's fantasy novel.

I think there's a deeper issue in here of a psychotic need felt by some Christians to shield themselves and their children from exposure to atheistic themes in film and literature. Harry Potter got a bad rap, too. Once my dad was criticized by another pastor for allowing his children to read these anti-Christian books—he claimed that a child who read Harry Potter would have everything he or she needed to become a witch or a warlock. My father replied, "You know, my kids have read those books many times, and they just can't get that broom off the ground."

People, this is ridiculous. No child is going to walk out of The Golden Compass and decide that he or she should go kill God, just as no one who saw The Wizard of Oz in 1939 decided that God must actually be an old man behind a curtain. Go see the movie. Take your kids. They'll enjoy it. Let them read the books. Heaven forbid you should, well, forbid your child to read. Don't be so uptight. Faith is all about trust, and there is no trust in the line of thinking that leads people to protest a kid's movie because it might threaten their faith or their children's.