Loving Our Frailties

by Rev. Laura Barclay

This weekend, I attended a new members class at Highland Baptist Church in Louisville, KY. The 100 year old sanctuary is gorgeous, decorated in an English Country Gothic style. In the 1970s, stained glass windows were installed with pictures of apostles and saints throughout history. One panel in particular struck me. Each of the apostles had two symbols representative of their lives in each hand. 

Peter in the middle, top panel, holds a key in his left hand. This is indicative of the passage from Matthew 16:18-19 where Jesus says, 

And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock. I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.

On this passage is the basis for the Catholic tradition that Peter was the first pope--the first head--of the one global church on which Jesus laid the foundation through his ministry.  Whether or not you interpret the passage this way, it is inarguable that Peter had a profound impact on the shape and spread of Christianity after the death of Jesus.

Yet, notice what Peter has in the other hand. He is holding a rooster, which is the symbol of his betrayal that Jesus predicts in Matthew 26:34: "Truly I tell you, this very night, before the cock crows, you will deny me three times." This becomes true later when Peter pretends that he does not know Jesus after his arrest. So how is it that the man with the keys to the kingdom also betrays Jesus? 

The apostles are portrayed almost as comic relief in the gospels. They don't understand Jesus' message or miss the point, allowing Jesus to clarify. In the famous "Feeding of the 5,000" story in Matthew 14, the apostles want to send the crowds away rather than feed them. Jesus says to them in what I can almost imagine as an exhausted eye-roll of a tone in verse 6, "They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat."

While the apostles keep screwing up during Jesus' life, they are forced to organize after his death. They realize what Jesus' teachings meant to them and that it's up to them to spread the message. Jesus is entrusting it to them, for all their bumbling imperfections. In Matthew 28, they are asked to go throughout the nations and spread the teachings. 

If we believe that Jesus was both fully human and divine, then we must understand that he knows the horror of human fear. In the garden before his arrest he was sweating blood (Luke 22). This is a very real condition called hematidrosis, which is brought on by extreme fear and anxiety. Imagine Jesus in the garden in the dead of night alone, sweating blood, crying, in the midst of a panic attack, pleading with God to "take this cup from me." Most of us would have a similar reaction to the possibility of being crucified. 

I think Jesus would absolutely understand Peter's betrayal in the face of death. This is why Peter's commitment to Jesus' message after the crucifixion is even more profound. The theologian Origen would later go on to confirm Peter's upside down crucifixion in Rome, showing both Rome's continued cruelty to perceived insurrectionists and his willingness to die for his beliefs. 

Each of us is a bundle of courage and fear, loyalty and betrayal. We must come to terms with this and love ourselves, as God does, not in spite of our frailty, but because of them. Humans are beautiful, messy creatures that are far from perfect, but we are made in God's image. And if we believe that God understands humanity even more intimately through Christ's experience, then we have to trust that God is there when we are paralyzed with fear or, God help us, when we betray one another. If anything, we must learn to forgive ourselves as God forgives us so that we can begin to see ourselves as children of God. The next time you fall short of your expectations, don't dwell on it. Know that God is there, cringing with you in sympathy, and ready to remind you that you are loved. You just have to accept that unconditional love, which may be the hardest lesson for humans to learn.

Be Afraid

by Rev. Mark Mofield

This morning I went over to the YMCA to get some exercise before I came into the office. I chose to start my routine on the elliptical machine. I love this machine because of the intense workout I get; however, it’s placement meant I was stuck looking at a wall of television sets. Most mornings I don’t mind – I catch up on my Sportscenter while I work out. However, this morning, the TVs were all tuned to the various morning news shows. On one TV, a Republican presidential candidate was telling the interviewer that, if President Obama was reelected, disaster and mayhem was soon to follow. At the same time, on another TV, a Democratic Senator was saying that if the Republicans won the White House, disaster and mayhem would follow.

Gotta love an election year. As for me, I closed my eyes, turned on my iPod, and listened to Steven Curtis Chapman.

The next few months, the voting public will be inundated with doom and gloom messages of what will happen if “the other side” wins. I sometimes feel like we are told less about what and who we are voting for and more about what our vote could prevent from happening. In a day and age when so many are living with daily uncertainty about their jobs, their children’s education, and unrest all over the world, the politics of fear seems to be the tool of choice for motivating voters to get to the polls.

As I listened to Steven Curtis Chapman on my iPod singing about God’s love and grace, it got me to thinking: does God have anything to say to a world that is constantly told, “Be afraid, be very afraid”?

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? – Psalm 27:1

But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.” – Luke 2:10-11

Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you … - 1 Peter 3:14-15

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us. – 1 John 4:18-19

Obviously we will all be making choices when we reach the poll booth this year. However, there are even more important choices that we must make each and every day. Will we choose fear, or will choose salvation, joy, hope, and love? God has given us another option to fear, and Christ is the fulfillment of that option.

We have an opportunity as the body of Christ to change the conversation, to change the attitude of society. We can let Christ be our light and salvation, we can bring good news of great joy to all people, we can give an account of our hope in Christ, we can love as Christ loved us. These are the most important choices we will make this year and any year.

Mark Mofield is the pastor of First Baptist Church of Elon, NC. This article originally appeared on his blog, “In A Moment."

What to Do with the Time that Is Given to Us

by Dr. Guy Sayles

At a critical point in The Lord of the Rings, Frodo, the Hobbit whose burden it was to carry the Ring toward its destruction—the destruction that would save Middle Earth—has grown weary and disheartened. He’s afraid and uncertain. He says to the wise wizard, Gandalf the Grey, “I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened." Gandalf replies: "So do all who come to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

We don’t get to choose the times we live in, and we can’t completely control, no matter how strong and vigilant we are, what happens to us. None of us chose to live in the wake of terror attacks, a foreclosure crisis, and the collapse of real estate values. We didn’t choose an era of high unemployment, growing homelessness, and alarmingly expensive health care. We didn’t choose these times and conditions.

And, some things have happened to us that confuse, frustrate and disappoint us. They feel undeserved and unfair.

Disease intruded or disaster struck and dashed our dreams just as we were starting to live them.

Failure came and took away our confidence.

Or, we gave everything we had to give—our hardest work, highest hopes, and deepest yearnings—to people who did not, would not and, for that reason, could not know and love us.

There are times when we understand Frodo: “I wish this had never come to me. I wish this had never happened.” And we need Gandalf’s wisdom: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

Life isn’t so much about what happens to us as it is about what happens in and with us as a result of what happens to us. What happens in us and with us can be hopeful and healing, joyful and renewing, if we make decisions that are consistent with who we are and what matters.

We are children of God, and what matters most is finally and always love. The overarching priority for any follower of Jesus is compassionate, creative and tenacious love for other people and devoted, growing and grateful love for God. The Great Commandment is also a constant invitation: keep learning how to love God with all you are and your neighbor as yourself."

So we ask, over and over again: what responses can I make that will help me to become more empathetic, understanding, open, and giving? More committed to the ways of peace, mercy, justice and joy? How might the circumstances I face stretch my heart, widen my mind, clarify my values, and strengthen my courage? How can the challenges and opportunities I face become my teachers in the ways of love?

Guy Sayles is the pastor of First Baptist Church of Asheville, NC. This article was originally posted on his blog, From the Intersection.

The Fear of Christmas

by Rev. Dr. Joe Phelps

Sunday’s performance of Rutter’s Magnificat teems with sophistication as the basses and tenors chase sopranos and altos up and down the musical score, accompanied by a full orchestra. This highbrow work is sung in Latin, which, like a British accent, makes anything sound more elegant and urbane.

But what we call the Magnificat, or the song of Mary, is as down-home as a labor union rally. “The big cats are going down because we’ve oppressed far too long. God has heard the cries of the poor, so you’d better get ready for change you can believe in.”

No wonder we prefer Mary’s song in Latin set to lofty music. What better way to obscure the politically charged, radically subversive message of the woman chosen to carry the mystery of Divinity in her body than to civilize it to death?
We’ve done the same thing to the whole Christmas story, really. Two thousand years of carols about the perfect baby Jesus (“no crying he makes”) and angels that look like Precious Moments dolls have camouflaged the hard-hitting implications of the story. For example, let the previous compliment to the British be accompanied by a recent Reuters story of competitive British parents creating a “manger chic” for Christmas pageants, with exotic fur throws purchased for their children cast as sheep, and ivory bridesmaid dresses for their darlings selected to be angels.

The Christmas story begins with a recognition of who is in charge (“a decree went out from Emperor Augustus”) and his demand that all people in the occupied land return to their hometown to register to pay taxes (quick: name a Christmas carol that includes the word “tax”). That’s what brought Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem from where they lived in Nazareth, 30 miles to the north--imperial powers throwing their weight around, treating ordinary people like puppets, using their might to meet their own needs. Some things never change.

There’s the stable birth, complete with cattle that are lowing, whatever that means. Other than a cute twist for future Christmas pageants, does the stable detail tell us something about where the sacred is most visible?

And then there are the shepherds, the salt-of-the-earth, working-class folk who are the first to hear the news from “a multitude of the heavenly host.” This is akin to a dignitary sending birth announcements to hotel clerks and fast-food assistant managers instead of to the social and political elite.

We read that the shepherds were “sore afraid” by their nocturnal visitors. Translation: it scared the heaven out of them. You’d be scared too, both by singing night angels but also by their message that interrupts the regularly scheduled programming with the announcement of a new deliverer who will come from outside the prescribed places of power in order to shuffle the deck and deal out a new hand.

But can we hear this message?

I don’t see many of us afraid like the shepherds at Christmas. Maybe we fear not scoring a coveted Zhu Zhu pet--this year’s hip toy. Or we’re afraid our credit cards (symbols of the System if ever there were one) will max out before our shopping is finished. Or maybe we’re afraid that we won’t “get in the Christmas spirit” this year.

But the fear of Christmas that awakens in us an understanding of how the world should be ordered? Not so much.

Karl Barth, a German theologian during World War II, warned, “Christmas without fear carries with it fear without Christmas.” That is, lives void of reverence for the sacred carry in them the seeds of fear that grow unquestioned and unchallenged. These lesser fears paralyze us and ultimately bear the fruit of havoc in our world-- competition, hoarding, retaliation, isolation.

But what about the life-altering chill from hearing a message announcing that the Holy One hears the cries of the poor, comes among us, and condemns our wars and conflicts with the simple words “and on earth, peace”? What about the heart-in-throat evoking realization that this “good news of great joy” really is for “all the people”? What if it’s true that Love is stronger than hate? What if we really are meant to live together as one people, united in common parentage, humanity, and hope?

I wonder if even my Jewish and Muslim friends, who reverence their own faith stories just as I do, might be invited as honored guests to see beyond the details of Christmas and the specificity of the Christian faith in order to recognize a picture that is profoundly and universally true: The Heart of Love wants to scare us awake from the sleep of life-as-usual into a new way of being stewards of these beautiful lives we’ve been given.

Once frightened awake we are assured in Mary’s song “God’s mercy is for those who fear God from generation to generation.” As the angels said to the awakened shepherds in the field, “Do not be afraid.”


Joe Phelps is Pastor of Highland Baptist Church and Ridgewood Baptist Church in Louisville, KY.