Archive for October, 2006

The Church, Marriage, and Divorce

Yesterday someone, in the comments section, asked a good question about divorce.

There are few “issues” more vexing to church leaders than this one. We’re wanting more than anything to be faithful to Christ. And we’re working with hurting, broken people.

There are two things that cause so much pain:

1. Marriages so broken that they wind up in divorce; and

2. Marriages equally broken where forgiveness, service, compassion, and love (basic Christian tools of ministry) seem absent.

Here are some practical things:

First, let us continue to place marriage within the realm of Christian discipleship. That’s what Mark’s gospel does. Right in the middle of teachings about what it means to follow him, we’re told that what God has yoked together people aren’t to pull apart. If there is anyplace where we need to practice the tools mentioned above, it’s here.

Second, let us be honest with our children and young adults about marriage. Let’s continue to remind them that marriage is not a state of ecstasy. It is a place where we commit ourselves despite the disappointments that may come. It is “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.”

Third, let’s continue to encourage all the communication and discussion we can before the wedding date — through premarital counseling (which our church requires for any ceremony performed by one of the ministers or elders) and through mentoring with older couples.

Fourth, let’s do our best to get people into small groups where they are safe to share their struggles. We need others in our lives who are for us, who can listen to us, pray with us, comfort us, and encourage us.

The teachings on divorce are difficult. You can sense the early church wrestling with the words of Jesus as they dealt with real, live people. (Let me recommend again the section on divorce in Richard Hays’ s The Moral Vision of the New Testament: Community, Cross, New Creation, A Contemporary Introduction to New Testament Ethics. Here he notes that “the canonical witness itself examplifies a process of reflection and adaptation of the fundamental normative prohibition against divorce” — speaking of passages like 1 Corinthians 7.)

It seems to me that the church is too easy on divorce and too hard on divorced people.

That’s the gist of these words from Hays:

“The collapse of cultural strictures against divorce has left the church in serious need of fresh theological and pastoral reflection about divorce and remarriage. The pain and complications of divorce cast their shadows across almost every congregation, yet the church often fails to address the issue forthrightly. In some churches divorce remains a taboo, and divorced persons are ostracized. In other churches, however, divorce is treated almost casually, and members are not in any serious way held accountable to their marriage vows.”

He adds this:

“In some cases, the church’s practice of accepting divorce has become so lax that the New Testament witness must be read primarily as a word of judgment on and correction for the church. In other cases, the church’s rigid legalism in applying the New Testament teaching must be challenged by the New Testament’s own modeling of flexibility in adapting Jesus’ word to new situations.”

We must continue to encourage people to keep their marriage vows.

Of course, there are lots of ways that marriage vows can be broken. When we fail to love, to support, to cherish, and to serve — in what sense have vows been kept?

So while divorce is a tragedy, so are damaging marriages. The church has little time for the selfish ways in which some swap partners because they’re more sexually attracted or because they “just weren’t happy.” But the church also knows that there are times when people come broken and hurting.

It isn’t our job to step on the hurting. It wasn’t the way of Christ. Divorced believers share in the fellowship of Christ the way all of us do: by his incredible mercy. They aren’t second class citizens. They aren’t “balcony Christians.”

So the church continues to nurture marriage and it continues to call for endurance of marriages as a part of discipleship. But it also recognizes that in this fallen world, there are marriage failures. That isn’t the unforgivable sin.

In an earlier blog, I made these brief suggestions about ways we might encourage our marital relationships:

1. By faithfully holding marriage in the realm of discipleship (i.e., we keep our vows as a part of living out the deep inner goodness that comes from following the Way of Christ — Mt. 5:31-32);

2. By refusing to make marriage a place where all needs are supposed to be met (which is idolatrous and forces it to bear a load it can’t);

3. By learning to be more open with one another — confessing, sharing, and praying — so that we aren’t afraid to say “we need some help”;

4. By fostering a greater sense of “first family” where the church — married, divorced, single, children — is seen as our primarily relationship;

5. By reminding each other that we relate to each other in marriage as brother and sister in Christ as well as husband and wife;

6. By offering whatever resources are available for prevention and intervention: wise elders, insightful therapists, caring friends and guides;

7. By encouraging each other openly to resist materialism and out-of-control debt;

8. By opening ways for conflict and conflict resolution that involve true listening, affirming, exploring, and forgiving;

9. By helping people to pursue a path of spiritual formation, expecting people to change through time into the image of Christ; and

10. By keeping alive and open the stories of older believers who can share their journey, thereby offering hope and guidance for troubled times.

“I Am of Christ”

“I am of Christ.”

That sounds like such a nice descriptor. Others may claim to be of Paul, and others of Apollos (two influential teachers in Corinth) — but I am of Christ.

So why does one have the feeling that Paul didn’t have warm feelings about those who made that claim (1 Cor. 1:12)? Because there were schisms in the church in Corinth: maybe within the house churches, maybe between the house churches, perhaps when they all came together. And behind the schisms, there was a lot of pride at work and a dearth of love.

There were fracture lines appearing, partly because they were attached to their teachers in unhealthy ways (but ways that would have been familiar in Corinth).

But others, dripping in pride and exclusivism, were only “of Christ.”

That resonates with me. Because for part of my life I took pride in not being of Wesley or Calvin, of Luther, and certainly not of the Pope. Just a Christian.

The desire to be “just a Christ-follower” can be very healthy. But it must not become a source of separation from others whom we don’t deem to be just as pure; and it should not ignore the fact that we’ve been influenced by many men and women and of faith. None of us is completely objective. None of us is reading scripture without bias. None of us finds our place in the family of God by being perfect–either in living or in biblical interpretation.

As I lived in those words of Paul last week, it reminded me of how subtle and dangerous spiritual pride is. It is so well disguised, masquerading in costumes of restoration and humility.

Beware anytime there is a church or a group that thinks it has cornered the market on spirituality, interpretation, or missionality. Let us follow the leading of God’s Spirit as he helps us live for the sake of the world; but let us recognize that there are many, many other followers of Jesus who may worship differently, talk differently and think differently.

Game 5 . . . Starbucks

The 1968 Series went the same way: The Cards won games 1, 3, and 4; the Tigers won game 2.

But my problem, as I mentioned earlier, is that we had tickets to game 6. So game 5 was a win/win. If the Cards won, my team would be the WS champion for two straight years (and three of five years). If they lost, I’d be sitting in Busch Stadium watching game 6. The ideal scenario was that I’d see the winning game.

But they didn’t win the fifth game . . . or the game I saw . . . or the seventh game — despite the fact that Bob Gibson was pitching game 7 and had just won games 1, 4, and 7 in 1967 and games 1 and 4 in 1968.

So I’ll take one more victory, no matter when it comes, no matter how small the margin, no matter how ugly it might be. My team hasn’t won a World Series since 1982 (which I also got to attend), so it’s time.

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All right. I’m trying to decide about the cup of coffee. Thanks for the advice. I love what several of you said: that it’s the friend you drink it with that matters.

Wasn’t that the real storyline of “Cheers”? There may have been jokes about people drinking too much, but I don’t remember seeing people drunk. The series was about friends being together. The whole “where-everyone-knows-your-name” theme.

Meanwhile, I’ve read that Starbucks is planning to dramatically increase their number of stores, spreading like rabbits to 40,000 stores.

Is there any way we could try to plant a church for every Starbucks that’s opened?

Game 4 . . . Cup of Joe . . . Dead Celebrities

Yesterday could have been very disappointing. If I had purchased two over-priced tickets to game four . . . if I’d bought two AA tickets . . . and if today we had to pay through the nose to get the tickets changed since game 4 was rained out. Those game 4 tickets can’t be used until Friday night, at the earliest, since game 5 tickets are now to be used for game 4, and game 4 tickets for game 5.

As it was, I got to hear Jerry Taylor preach from Luke 4 and also to hear a Highland couple tell about the orphanage they’ve started in India. (Check out www.sanctuaryhome.org.)

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I’m thinking about trying a cup of coffee. I do that about once a decade.

Having been to Starbucks a couple times recently with students, I’m drawn to the coffee names. But I still keep getting bottled water.

So if I buy one cup of coffee for this decade, what should it be? Someone tell me the perfect cup of joe to get.

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I just read that Kurt Cobain is the highest-earning dead celebrity. He’s ahead of Elvis (#2), John Lennon (#4), Marilyn Monroe (#9), and Johnny Cash (#10). Cobain brought in about $50,000,000 last year. That’s a lot of Nirvana.

Social Security

I remember the “Timothy Club” meeting at Harding when some financial expert came in to talk to all the young men (yes, we were all males at the time — no female Timothys) about retirement issues. Not exactly a front burner matter for guys that age, but important nevertheless.

He talked about how ministers can get out of social security. It’s important for you to get out of it, he said, because it’s such a bad financial deal. You can do much better by managing your own retirement through investments. But, he emphasized, you cannot claim that you’re doing it for financial reasons. You have to say it’s because of a theological reason having to do with separation of church and state. We would have to file an IRS form saying “I am conscientiously opposed to, or because of my religious principles I am opposed to, the acceptance (for services I performed as a minister . . .) of any public insurance that makes payments in the event of death, disability, old age, or retirement, or that makes payments toward the cost of, or provides services for, medical care.” It’s clear that the consciencious objection must be for religious reasons, and the objection isn’t to the payment of the tax but to the acceptance of benefits.

So opt out, he said, for financial reasons. But make sure you don’t say it’s for financial reasons.

When the session was over, I asked a couple friends if I’d heard correctly. Yes, they agreed. He’d just encouraged us to lie to the IRS for financial reasons.

(There may be some ministers out there who did take the exemption because they met the criteria. I have no problem with that. I just didn’t meet the criteria. After doing a bit more research on the exemption, I knew I didn’t qualify.)

So, we’ve paid into Social Security all these years. That’s why, like many of you, I find it frustrating when my statement of benefits comes each year with the words in bold: “Your estimated benfits are based on current law. Congress has made changes to the law in the past and can do so at any time. The law governing benefit amounts may change because, by 2041, the payroll taxes collected will be enough to pay only about 74 percent of scheduled benfits.” That little paragraph didn’t used to be on there.

I think the translation is: this is what you have coming . . . but no promises. Now I think I have a religious objection!

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Two wins down; two to go. Here’s the Cardinals line-up for the World Series game I was at in 1968:

Lou Brock (lf)
Curt Flood (cf)
Roger Maris (rf)
Orlando Cepeda (1st)
Tim McCarver (c)
Mike Shannon (3rd)
Julian Javier (2nd)
Dal Maxwell (ss)
Ray Washburn (p)

It wasn’t a good night for the Cardinals, as Denny McLain, the last 30-game winner in major league baseball, pitched the whole game and the Tigers won, 13-1. It was, however, a great night for me, despite the loss — a night I’m still enjoying.

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Note to Highland members who have Blackberrys and will be checking the game while Jerry Taylor preaches: I’m going to Tivo the game and catch up quickly when I get home, so don’t tell me the score! (However, in the past, before tivo, I have appreciated a few times when a couple good brothers — no names mentioned — would check a score and flash it to me on the front row. Thanks, Grant and Joel.)

Gospel Meetings

I grew up in the world of “Gospel Meetings.” The denominations had revivals; we had gospel meetings.

Twice a year, we had preachers come in and speak every night for a week. The two who came most often to our church were Guy N. Woods, our unofficial pope, and Hugo McCord. I also remember Bobby Key, Bobby Dockery, and Walter Buchanan, three men whom I always liked to hear.

But we were hardcore. It wasn’t just our gospel meetings in Neosho; it was all the area congregations having their fall and spring meetings. We were always encouraged to “support XYZ church” in their gospel meeting. So we were known to travel to Hottel Springs, Seneca, or Joplin to support their revivals. I mean gospel meetings.

Here’s the funny thing: while I think there’s a part of that culture that is funny (not as in IDIOTIC funny but as in THAT’S MY FAMILY funny), those aren’t bad memories. While I probably wouldn’t have volunteered to go to worship every night for a week, there was a certain excitement about it. The Bible would be preached. Some wandering sinner might be saved. The song leaders were usually hyper-caffeinated. Afterward the middle-aged men I liked so much would gather outside for a smoke to talk about sports.

Now I’m wondering: what is it we’re doing now that one day will seem sort of funny to my kids, but that will be a fond memory as part of their faith formation?

melhailey.com

Early voting begins today. Go, Mel!

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I’m pretty sure every Cardinals fan around would gladly have taken one win and one loss in those first two games. Now it’s back to St. Louis with our best pitchers ready to go. I checked into game 4 tickets — but nothing even remotely affordable.

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And now a note to fellow Bible Geeks. This Sunday I’m beginning a series on 1 Corinthians called “One for All and All for One.” Here are the works that have been most helpful to me in the past and as I’ve prepared this time:

Special studies:
Margaret Mitchell, Paul and the Rhetoric of Reconciliation
Gerd Theissen, Social Settings of Pauline Christianity
Daniel Schowalter and Steven Friesen, eds., Urban Religion in Roman Corinth (with a great article by my buddy James Walters)

Also, the commentaries by Craig Keener, Richard Hays, Gordon Fee, and Ben Witherington. (I have Anthony Thiselton’s; I’m guessing it’s wonderful; but I haven’t really worked in it yet.)

On to Detroit . . . Remembering 1968

In the mid-1980s, I held a gospel meeting in Aurora, Missouri. My song leader the last night of the meeting?

None other than the man in black himself. (Randy Harris, not Johnny Cash.)

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ACU students were buzzing with excitement because fall break is here. Guess what fall break is. Today. That’s right: it’s one day off. But you package it with the name “fall break,” and everyone is giddy with relief.

Great game last night for ACU, defeating the #4 team in the nation. They’re now 7-0.

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Wanted: Two tickets to Game Four! Here’s something I wrote on this blog three years ago:

My insular world of Neosho, Missouri protected me from much of what was happening in 1968. That fall, I entered 7th grade at Neosho Junior High School and started my downtown paper route after school.

So much was happening in the world that year. The Tet offensive was launched in January. Martin Luther King was assassinated in April, and Robert Kennedy in June. Only later did the impact of the My Lai Massacre begin to sink in as we heard news reports about Charlie Company and Lt. William Calley.

Occasionally I’d get to watch “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In.” Goldie Hawn and Lilly Tomlin made quite an impression — in their own ways. Tiny Tim was singing, “Tip Toe Through the Tulips,” Mike Wallace was launching “60 Minutes” (Don’t you know some exec said, “It’ll never last”?), Peggy Fleming was skating, and Joe Namath was wearing a mink coat!

But in my world, it was Bob Gibson. My beloved Cardinals were headed back to the World Series (after their wins in 1964 and 1967), led by the greatest pitcher of his era. You may disagree — but, hey, start your own blog!

In 1968 Gibby won the National League MVP and the Cy Young. His ERA for the year was 1.12, with 268 strikeouts and 13 shutouts. Maybe most remarkable is that he completed 28 of his 34 starts. Can you imagine a pitcher today having half that many completed games? I still remember having my little transistor radio nearby on any day Gibson was pitching.

That summer my maternal grandmother and my cool, young aunt (who was probably 20ish at the time) took me to Chicago. We were visiting lots of relatives along the way, but I think my Grandma wanted to be there for the start of the Democratic Convention when her candidate, Robert Kennedy, would be nominated. After his assassination, she changed allegiance to Eugene McCarthy, and in August we headed for the Windy City, with Grandma preaching Democratic politics to anyone who would listen.

I’m sure what my aunt remembers most about the trip is the beginning of that stormy convention. (Will there ever be another quite like the 1968 Democratic Convention? And yes — I was there!) But what I remember is that these two women I loved took me to Wrigley Field. And of all luck, they were playing the Cardinals! I had so much fun, they took me back the next day.

In October, we (yes WE — I considered myself part of the team) were facing the Detroit Tigers. With the newspaper connection, we again scored tickets, this time to game 6.

I was in a bit of a predicament as a Cardinal supporter. Because the Cards went into game 5 with a 3-1 lead. If we won that game, we’d repeat as WS champs. But I wouldn’t get to see them in game 6. So I rooted for St. Louis, but didn’t mind much when they lost.

The rest is sad history for a Cardinal fan. We lost both the sixth and seventh games. But that’s not the really sad part. The saddest was that we wouldn’t be returning to a World Series until the 1980s.

In October the Cards lost the World Series and in November Richard Nixon was elected president. My grandma and I were both sad.

Patiently Waiting for the Muse

I had lunch recently with a couple twentysomething ministers. They were asking questions about creativity and preaching. So here’s what I told them:

Sometimes I can’t find a creative thought. I study, pray, work, study, and pray. My text has been translated; I’ve read it again and again in its context; I’ve prayed through it. But not one creative thought comes. At this point a sermon would be like a running commentary. I try to GET CREATIVE, but it’s like trying to hit a 98 mph fastball with a baseball that’s been shrunk down to the size of a golf ball.

But there are moments.

Sometimes it’s a creative day or a creative couple days. Times when the baseball has slowed down and has gotten back to normal size. Instead of the raw data of exegesis, I’m able to move from science to art. Connections are made. A journey for the message begins to form. I love days like this.

And then there are times — rare, really — when it’s more like hitting a beach ball coming at 20 mph. I occasionally have moments when all the fog lifts and everything falls into place. I can’t write quickly enough. I’ve had a spurt as short as fifteen minutes when a month’s worth of sermons came spilling out.

Here’s the problem: I don’t know how to control the muse. I can’t beg her to appear and I can’t cajol her through sleep, study, or exercise. She just shows up.

In the meantime, I told these guys, it’s important to be disciplined about your work: your study of the word, your praying of the word, and your living of the word.

Sometimes the creative burst comes early with plenty of lead time. Sometimes it shows up rather late. But when it comes, and thank God it usually does, you smile, soak it in, and write down every thought that comes.

N. T. Wright on the Church

“I use the word ‘church’ here with a somewhat heavy heart. I know that for many of my readers that very word will carry the overtones of large, dark buildings, pompous religious pronouncements, false solemnity, and rank hypocrisy. But there is no easy alternative. I, too, feel the weight of that negative image. I battle with it professionally all the time.

“But there is another side to it, a side which shows all the signs of the wind and fire, of the bird brooding over the waters and bringing new life. For many, ‘church’ means just the opposite of that negative image. It’s a place of welcome and laughter, of healing and hope, of friends and family and justice and new life. It’s where the homeless drop in for a bowl of soup and the elderly stop by for a chat. It’s where one group is working to help drug addicts and another is campaigning for global justice. It’s where you’ll find people learning to pray, coming to faith, struggling with temptation, finding new purpose, and getting in touch with a new power to carry that purpose out. It’s where people bring their own small faith and discover, in getting together with others to worship the one true God, that the whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts. No church is like this all the time. But a remarkable number of churches are partly like that for quite a lot of time.”

from Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense.

That’s the irony, isn’t it? We all have our frustrations with the church. Most have been burned at one time or another by someone acting unchristianly “in the name of Christ.” We’ve hated the shallowness, the meanness, the legalism, the disappointments.

And yet . . . the church is also a force of great transformation. It’s a place where the greatest story of life is faithfully proclaimed and lived. It’s where grace and forgiveness can be learned. It’s a place with hope amid death, joy amid defeat, and meaning amid confusion. It’s the older men and women we’ve known who exude compassion; it’s the young women and men with dreams of justice and mercy; it’s the children learning to sing “Our God Is an Awesome God.”