Which "Way" Am I Called to Follow?

In this hot political season, with voices raised about guns, jobs, freedom, the American Way, I find myself pausing to ask: which Way am I called to follow? Whose priorities should I pursue?

Christ Takes up His Cross,
Anna Kocher, 2006

Before Christians were called Christians, they were called Followers of the Way. The Way was Jesus: simultaneously the path itself, guide and example, companion on the journey. Jesus said “I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father except through me.”

But he also said “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). The way to relationship with God, to the full life Jesus promised, is through Jesus himself, but also through following the path he shows us, walking with him the road of sacrifice and self-denial.

Following the Way of Christ starts with a willingness to set our native loyalties aside. Jesus said again and again: leave your nets, your fields, your money, your life, and come, follow me. The early believers understood that the first step of the Christian journey was a step away from all prior allegiance, including allegiance to self, to comfort, safety, the right to be right, the mistaken idea that somehow we, on our own, are good people, better than those others.

The Apostle Paul understood this completely:

If someone else thinks they have reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more:  circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless. But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. Philippians 3

Too many contemporary Christians assume that today the first step is somehow different, somehow less demanding, that we can keep our old loyalties and still fit Christ in. But to follow Jesus, even now, requires a willingness to step away from tradition, denominational assumptions, national pride, comfort, safety, confidence in our own intellect or education, the mistaken idea that somehow we, on our own, are good people, better than those others.

I start here: I am a fallen, broken person, jealously loyal to my own ideas, selfishly committed to my own ways of seeing, in need of a hand of grace to help me stand free of the misguided assumptions that hold me hostage, that whisper I’m somehow of more value than those others not like me.

I need help to start on the Way, and I need help to continue. If Jesus is the Way, then we’re called to live like him, visible agents of healing, compassion, reconciliation, forgiveness. Before creeds, before denominations, before tee-shirt slogans or bumper stickers, the early Christians were known by the visible difference in their daily lives. They embraced lepers, prostitutes, Roman soldiers. They fed widows and orphans. They refused to retaliate when faced with persecution. They offered healing to enemies, welcome to wanderers unlike themselves.

Those early Christians were so convinced of the lasting love of Christ they turned and offered that love to those who maligned them, scorned them, punished them. Unevenly, imperfectly, they walked day by day in the Way they had been shown.

Jesus Calling Disciples, John Mosiman, USA, ca. 1970

Athanasius of Alexandria  (ca. 296-298 – 373) described the visible influence of the Way of Christ  on the surrounding culture:

Christ is not only preached through His own disciples, but also wrought so persuasively on men’s understanding that, laying aside their savage habits and forsaking the worship of their ancestral gods, they learnt to know Him and through Him to worship the Father. While they were yet idolaters, the Greeks and Barbarians were always at war with each other, and were even cruel to their own kith and kin. Nobody could travel by land or sea at all unless he was armed with swords, because of their irreconcilable quarrels with each other. Indeed, the whole course of their life was carried on with weapons. But since they came over to the school of Christ, as men moved with real compunction they have laid aside their murderous cruelty and are war-minded no more. On the contrary, all is peace among them and nothing remains save desire for friendship.  (On the Incarnation)

I admit, as followers of the Way in the 21st century, we face a challenge not known to those new Christians of an earlier world. We carry the heritage not only of those whose lives mirrored the example of Christ, but also of those who in the name of Christ went on with their war-minded ways, killing and conquering, justifying slavery and sexism, suppressing scientific study, shouting down opponents, carrying signs saying “God hates.”

No one said the Way of Christ would be easy. The call of love is always costly.

So we start with that other first step of the Way: confession. Not only confession of our own sin, failure, falling short, but confession of the falling short of those who have gone before, those who even now misrepresent God’s goodness and make the word “Christian” a sign of judgment rather than of hope.

Vinoth Ramachandra, Sri Lankan theologian who has surely seen more than his share of colonial misconduct in the name of Christ, notes “it is with a flawed and faithless people that the Christ has stooped to pitch his tent and link his name. Any sharing of the gospel within a pluralistic world, after two millennia of ‘Christianity,’ has to begin with humble acknowledgement of betrayals of the gospel by the church itself.” (Faiths in Conflict? 1999 p. 168)

Turning from our tribal loyalties, confessing our misrepresentation of the gospel and complicity in a culture skewed to its own good rather than the good of all, we start on a Way that leads us ever deeper into humility, deeper into the longing for wisdom, the repentant awareness of our own lack of love, our own inadequacy in the face of complex, overwhelming need.

From the Gospel of Matthew
Otto Dix, 1960, Berlin

And along that Way, as we read the words of Jesus, as we pray to hear and know his voice, as we ask to see with his eyes, to love what he loves, we find our hearts changing, and find ourselves claiming, with Jesus, a purpose and passion like his own, priority enough in this conflicted season:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
    because he has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom
    for the prisoners
    and recovery of sight
    for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
    to proclaim the year
    of the Lord’s favor.”  (Luke 4)

This is part of the August synchroblog, "Follow." Links to other posts will appear soon.

This is also part of an continuing series about faith and politics: What's Your Platform?

More than ever, I welcome your thoughts about which issues to consider, as well as your insight, comments, and questions.  Look for the "__ comments" link below to leave your comments.

Limbaugh and the LRA

What do you know about the LRA?

I first heard of the Lord’s Resistance Army a decade ago, when Bishop Ojwang and his wife Margaret visited our church to strengthen the partnership between the Church of the Good Samaritan and the Anglican Diocese of Kitgum in Northern Uganda.

The LRA was formed in 1985 by Joseph Kony, an irrational, often violent man. By early 2002, the year of the Ojwangs’ visit, he had cut a wide swath of misery through four countries of central Africa, crossing borders between Northern Uganda, Southern Sudan, the Central African Republic, and the Democratic Republic of Congo. His mode of operation: attack villages at night, abduct young boys and their early adolescent sisters, insist the new captives torture, dismember, then murder remaining relatives, burn whatever's left. Captives who didn’t comply immediately were tortured and killed; children who attempted to escape were killed by other children. 

The Ojwangs were hoping to raise awareness of the tragedy unfolding in their region, and were looking for financial and prayer support. At the time, almost a million people were living in IDP camps (for Internally Displaced Persons) in Northern Uganda. Roads were impassable because of land mines and marauding bands. A once prosperous farming region was no longer yielding food, because the patterns of life were so disrupted.

Five years later, another priest from Kitgum visited our church, about the time we were learning of the Invisible Children. Someone in our youth group had seen the Invisible Children video about “night commuters” in Northern Uganda, tens of thousands of children living in fear of abduction, traveling miles from their villages each evening to sleep in relative safety in larger towns. We showed the video to our group and sat in tears as we watched the suffering of children an ocean away. One student asked if she could design a tee shirt to sell to raise money for the work of Invisible Children.

Our visitor, Rev. Wilson Kitara, then secretary of the Diocese of Kitgum, was able to offer his own perspective of the trouble in Kitgum, and told our youth group about the thousands of children the church sheltered every night, the ongoing work of providing food, medical care, and emotional and spiritual support to those children. Our group decided we would sell tee shirts and bracelets to support the work of Invisible Children, do what we could to share what we knew about the LRA and the night commuters, and find other ways to raise money for the Diocese of Kitgum in their work with the thousands of children affected.

Rev. Kitara invited our son, a recent college graduate, to come to Uganda to help write grant proposals, a continuing struggle for the short-staffed and underfunded Diocese of Kitgum, so that fall our church sent him off as a short-term missionary. He spent three months visiting IDP camps (at that point, swollen to hold almost two million displaced people), teaching computer skills to church staff and interested young adults, writing proposals and reports, and looking for ways our church could offer more support. He came home with a deep love for the people of Kitgum, some great ideas about continuing partnership, and a backpack full of bead necklaces the clergy wives had made for us to sell to raise money for school fees for the many children of the community.

Over the years we've continued to support and pray for the Diocese of Kitgum, raising money for the work there, selling the mothers’ bead necklaces, and joining a group called Resolve which has faithfully worked to raise awareness of the continuing tragedy of the LRA.

Through the advocacy of Resolve, Invisible Children, and others human rights groups, the LRA Disarmament and Northern Uganda Recovery Act was introduced to Congress in March of 2009 by five bi-partisan co-sponsors. Over the next year, the bill gained momentum and attention as activists made endless phone calls, lobbied representatives, and organized letter-writing campaigns. By the time the bill came to the Senate floor a year later, it had 65 Senators as cosponsors. It passed unanimously, then moved to the House of Representatives on May 13, 2010 with 202 Representatives as cosponsors. Again, it passed unanimously, and was signed into law by President Obama on  May 24.

The act required the president to submit a strategy to Congress, which he did last November.  In the intervening months, those who care about northern Uganda, the child soldiers, and all impacted by the LRA have waited to see the strategy put into action. Budget conversations threatened to derail it, and repeated phone and mail campaigns have been undertaken asking Congress and the president to move “From Promise to Peace.”

On October 14, I was happy to receive news from Resolve announcing the president’s plan to deploy 100 US military advisers to LRA-affected areas as an initial step in a multi-faceted plan to bring the years of violence to a conclusion. The advisors will work with regional militaries, coordinating efforts across borders, encouraging rebel leaders to defect, and increasing surveillance of rebel activities while watching for human rights violations by both rebels and regional armies.

The plan also includes improved communication technology for military and impacted communities and a commitment to greater diplomatic efforts in the region, as well as a promise of ongoing funding for reconciliation and transitional justice initiatives, and much-needed reconstruction assistance to northern Uganda.

While I was celebrating this long-prayed-for announcement, I received another email, announcing “President Obama sending troops to kill Christians in Africa.” The email warned that the president had bypassed Congress and was plunging the US into further war.

In the days and weeks since, it’s become clear that that email, and more like it, was prompted by hasty remarks by commentators with no knowledge of the LRA and no real interest in learning the truth before initiating attacks against the president. The tidal wave of criticism and misinformation was launched by Rush Limbaugh, who announced that President Obama had invaded Uganda to attack a Christian army:

“[M]ost Americans have never heard of it, and here we are at war with them.  Lord's Resistance Army are Christians. . . .  They are fighting the Muslims in Sudan.  And Obama has sent troops, United States troops to remove them from the battlefield, which means kill them. . . .So that's a new war, a hundred troops to wipe out Christians in Sudan, Uganda, and no, I'm not kidding.” 

EnoughProject.org

I’m still trying to understand how even the most irresponsible commentator could misrepresent a situation so completely. And I’m trying to understand how any organization could fire off email alerts without first doing a few minutes of research to see if the alarm was well-founded. Five minutes on Google yields a heart-breaking supply of information about the harm Kony and his LRA have done.

I’m amazed that in the outcry since Limbaugh’s comments, he hasn’t seen the need to apologize or correct his statements. And I have yet to receive clarifying emails from those organizations and individuals who alerted me to the president’s plan to kill Christians. 

How is it possible that a national news commentator would not have heard of an international war criminal who has killed thousands, and impacted millions, across a span of twenty-five years?

And how is it possible that political antipathy would overrule the simplest rules of public discourse? Is the truth that expendable? Is fairness even possible?

And how helpful can it be to have headlines rocketing around the globe: "Obama Invades Uganda"? "President Killing Christians"?

I find I’m grieving at the state of political conversation, as I continue to grieve at the incredible damage done by one evil man and those he drew into his web.

In a public statement released last week, Bishop Ojwang and other Christian leaders in northern Uganda thanked the US for promised aid, and asked policy makers in the United States, Africa and elsewhere to heed the lessons of history and focus their efforts on dialogue rather than force, engagement rather than confrontation. Despite all the violence and suffering, they still pray for a non-violent solution. “Let us redouble our efforts to engage in dialogue. We believe this is the only way to bring about a lasting solution that will foster healing and reconciliation.” 

If they can advocate for understanding, reconciliation, and peace, after all the atrocities they’ve witnessed, all the suffering they've lived through, surely we can find a way to do the same. Hard as it is to speak with those who hear only what they want to hear, and say what they want with no interest in the truth, "Let us redouble our efforts to engage in dialogue." And continue to pray for reconciliation, healing, and peace, here, and in Central Africa.

We pray for all who govern and hold authority in the nations of the world;     

     That there may be justice and peace on the earth.

Give us grace to do your will in all that we undertake;    

     That our works may find favor in your sight.

Have compassion on those who suffer from any grief or trouble;    

     That they may be delivered from their distress.  

Please join the conversation. Your thoughts and experiences in this are welcome. Look for the "__ comments" link below to leave your comments.  

Faith in Politics: Prince of Peace

Is a Christian more likely to be Republican, or Democrat?

Conservative, or liberal?

Red, or blue?

Is a Christian more likely to be for or against affirmative action?

For or against food stamps for the hungry ?

For or against the EPA?

Quick: what does the Bible say about immigration reform?

Labor unions and OSHA rules?

Public education?

Free trade?

Drones?

Today is Pulpit Freedom Sunday, promoted by The Alliance Defense Fund, a nonprofit legal group founded in 2008 to defend “the right to hear and speak the Truth through strategy, training, funding, and direct litigation” and to “defend Our First Liberty – religious freedom.” The idea is for pastors to assert the freedom of political speech from the pulpit, and to challenge congregations to vote for specific candidates who affirm core Christian values. Pastor Jim Garlow, of Skyline Wesleyan Church in San Diego, has become the unofficial spokesman and has been widely quoted this past week regarding his own plans for today’s sermon:

“I would say the following candidates have the following positions as it relates to abortion, as it relates to the definition of marriage, as it relates to their view of the national debt - because the national debt is a moral issue, thou shall not steal from future generations. And, that being the case, here's the following candidates that hold these various views of these three and perhaps many other topics. 

 “Having said that, here's what the Scripture teaches specifically about that. And, after I go through that, as fully-devoted followers of Jesus Christ, we would not want to elect individuals - given the fact that the Bible has a great deal to say about economic, or life principles, or the definition of marriage in a scriptural context - we would not want persons who are in defiance of God's will in positions of authority over us. What fully devoted follower of Christ would want to defy God's will for how national and community life is to be ordered according to the Scripture?"

Garlow’s comments raise plenty of questions. A timely new book, Left, Right and Christ: Evangelical Faith in Politics, calls attention to some of these in its promotional press releases: 

• Can a Democrat be a Christian?

• Should the government take care of the sick?

• Do legalized abortions increase the number of abortions?

• Is the definition of marriage universal for all?

• Does a free country mean that everyone is free to live here?

• Does defending our nation mean we should kill our enemies?

I'm looking  forward to seeing what the authors, progressive Lisa Sharon Harper and conservative D.C. Innes, have to say. I’m also curious about how many of the “pulpit freedom” sermons will talk about what it means to be peacemakers, or how God’s view for the poor informs their candidate endorsements.

I went to a Wesleyan college, and for decades now I’ve considered myself an Evangelical Christian, although both “Evangelical” and “Christian” have been so misused and misrepresented I’m hesitant to use either term. I share Garlow’s concern for aligning my vote with what I see in scripture.

But how do we decide which standards should be held closely by people of faith, but not legislated for those who don’t share our beliefs?

And who gets to decide which priorities trump all others?

Maybe most important, how should we respond to those who disagree with us?

Garlow says “we would not want persons who are in defiance of God's will in positions of authority over us.” But from what I’ve seen of how our parties work, God’s will is rarely the bottom line.  And it’s a very rare candidate who lines up with scripture in all the ways I would wish, from economic policy, to care for creation, to promotion of peace, to compassionate regard for immigrants, offenders, the weak, the sick.

“Defiance” is a strong word: is it possible that we could disagree about what God’s word says about particular current issues? Is it possible we could disagree about how best to see his will pursued?

This is an important time in the life of our country, in the unfolding story of global democracy, and in the sometimes contentious discussion regarding the role of faith in the public arena. 

A friend recently pointed me toward a blog by a Sri Lankan Christian, Vinoth Ramachandra. He earned a PhD in engineering at the University of London, then went back to Sri Lanka to help start a ministry to university students. He served for years as the South Asian Regional Secretary for the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students (IFES) and now provides leadership to IFES in Dialogue & Social Engagement, giving public lectures and seminars in universities, inviting students to think Biblically about the issues confronting them in their own nations.

I'm reminded every time I read his blog that as an American I have great power and opportunity to create change, not only in my own country but for people around the globe, and that as an American Christian I have the responsibility to use that power to demonstrate and make visible the kingdom of God as described by Jesus in the sermon on the mount. And I'm reminded that to many Christians around the globe, American Christians seem self-centered, naive, and out of step with the gospel. 

To quote Vinoth's blog: 

 Jesus expects that the Church that is proclaiming the Gospel among the nations is also living out that Gospel before the nations. Namely, she is committed to peace-making, hungering and thirsting after justice, loving her enemies, healing the sick, sharing wealth with the dispossessed, striving for unity in the midst of differences . . .

I'm not sure those are the priorities that will be discussed this Pulpit Freedom Sunday.

Peace-making: Who can explain why our military budget is larger than the next six nations combined? 

Hungering and thirsting after justice: Even to speak of economic justice is to risk being called a socialist.

Healing the sick: What’s behind the opposition to national healthcare? Who benefits from our current system? Who doesn’t?

Sharing wealth with the dispossessed: Isn't that socialism? Communism? Both? And aren't the dispossessed somehow at fault? 

Unity in the midst of differences . . .   I can't quite picture that.

I’ve set myself a goal of spending an hour a day trying to understand where we are, how we got here, where we should be heading, how to help.

It’s worse than I thought, harder than I imagined. Democracy in the US is in a difficult place; divisions seem deeper every day. 

Overcome just thinking about how how far we are from unity, I close my eyes, and I’m drawn back to the narrow churchyard at the Free Church of St. John in Kensington, Philadelphia.

On one side is the old stone church, the first church in Philadelphia to provide pews without charge to any who came to worship.

Heather Micklewright, 2010

On the other side is the Conwell Annex, an old brick building that once housed St. John’s Sunday School, and now provides overflow classrooms for a middle school three blocks away. It has grills on the windows, lots of painted-over graffiti.

I’m surrounded by kids: tiny kids leaning against my legs, bigger kids, catching my eye and mugging for a smile. Teens, some from my suburban church, some from the surrounding neighborhood, a bright mix of sizes, colors, personalities, all wearing team tee shirts and name tags. Singing.

The song we’re singing is King of Kings and Prince of Peace, Jesus! Allelujah. Behind us cars screech across pot holes. Neighbors sit on porch steps, smoking, watching. A few blocks off the el rattles by. Sirens nearly drown out our voices.

Again, faster: King of Kings and Prince of Peace, Jesus, Allelujah. I’m remembering that feeling of being tired before I start, overwhelmed by the need around me. Not sure our team is up to the task, not sure we can make even a tiny a dent in the sadness and anger and brokenness that surround us.

Yet as we sing I’m reminded of what Father Graff, St. John’s now-retired vicar, has told me more times than I can remember: we’re not called to be successful. We’re called to be faithful.

I’m reminded of what I’ve seen again and again: our small offerings are multiplied, like bread and fish, far beyond our imagining.

And I feel that peace beyond understanding, that peace promised and received by faithful followers of the Prince of Peace across the centuries, around the globe. 

I’m not yet sure what it means to be faithful in our current political context, not sure what it means to be a fully-devoted follower of Christ in a confused, divided, complex world. Yet as I pray, I picture a Christian community that loves what God loves, that speaks, lives, and stands firmly for compassion, forgiveness, mercy and healing in a way that reflects Jesus himself. 

And I ask God to trust me with some small piece of that, as Jesus trusted the loaves and fish to the hands of his doubting disciples.

Please join the conversation. Your thoughts and experiences in this are welcome. Look for the "__ comments" link below to leave your comments.