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So here I am in Bronxville, New York.
I never would imagine that I'd be in a
community like this; it's one of the
wealthiest communities in the world. But
juxtaposed in this community is our
little college, our little Lutheran
school: 1,466 students which
is a record enrollment,
but it's small. We like to say,
we're a small school with a big impact.
I mean, our student body's 65%
non-white, which is nothing like
the community in which we find ourselves.
But it gives us a great opportunity to
provide our students with access to, you
know, community members who give them
access to networks of success. One of the
things I'm really excited about, being
here in this year, is that this is
the 500th anniversary year of
the Reformation. And so we have a chance
to kind of learn from Luther, and learn
from the Lutheran tradition. For example,
we can learn about the use of technology.
Luther used the printing press, and this
is a replica of the sort of press that
would have been around with Gutenberg -
Johannes Gutenberg - and it was because of
the use of the printing press, and the
way the printing press printed words
about the Word of God, that the
Reformation was such a powerful social
movement. A graduate of this place in
1912 was someone named Walter A. Maier,
and Walter A. Maier was the person who
founded the Lutheran Hour: "Bringing Christ
to the nations and the nations to
Christ." And of course at that time people
raised a lot of questions: they said, can
radio really be a true congregation? Does
radio really work, or is it just too
virtual? The same kinds of questions that
people raised a hundred years after
Maier, 500 years after Gutenberg,
500 years after Luther; the same kind of
questions they raised with respect to
the use of technology now. From the
movable-type, to the cell phone, is one of
the ways in which justice is being
brought forth. I wonder if Luther might
not be really, really pleased to see that
technology can be used to promote
justice - the Arab Spring - technology can
be used to provide people without means
with access to information, a whole world
of information that they never would
have had were it not for the access that
they get through technology. Technology
in many ways is a great equalizer; it's a
great justice bringer. So there's really
a connection, I believe, in our Western
tradition between the man, the
message, and the machinery of the
Reformation, and these social justice
movements we see in the
United States of America.
So recently, I and Alberto Garcia who's a
good friend, a co-author, wrote a book
called "Wittenberg Meets the World."
We actually chose that verb "meets" on
purpose, because it's not like
Wittenberg comes into the world or the
world comes to Wittenberg, but it's just
this kind of this mutuality of meeting.
And then the subtitle of the book is,
"Reimagining the Reformation from the
Margins." So what do we mean by margins?
The word margins of course means the
outside of something, the outskirts of
something. But even that notion or the
concept of the term margins is, you know,
is freighted, is loaded; because
attributions of marginality depend on
our assumptions about the center. So when
we attribute something as marginal, we
are by definition ascribing something
else as being central, or not. So for
example, if we think that, you know, Euro-
America and Christianity is at the
center of our faith, then what's at the
margins will be anything that is the
other, anything that is not that. If we
however believe that Jesus Christ is at
the center, then this event of Jesus
Christ - the life, death and resurrection
of the savior of the world and of the
church - then that fact
de-centers everything else; de-centers
all of our idolatries, de-centers all of
our presumptions and presuppositions, and
really changes what we kind of think
about what is at the center in what's at
the margins. So in the Lutheran faith
tradition, of course, there's this kind of
stereotypical captivity of who is a
Lutheran! So the average Lutheran in the
world does not look like a Nordic person
or a Germanic person or a Scandinavian
person, but in 2017 the average Lutheran
looks like an East African, looks like
a Tanzanian or looks like a Ethiopian.
Those churches are just booming. We have
8 million members in one, we got 6
in the other - so already you have more
people going to church and members of
churches in the African continent, in
what we used to call, you know, the
"developing" world or "third" world, right - in
the global south in Latin America and in
Asia - than you do in Europe and the
United States of America. And if you
compare that with other settings, for
example, you know, in Germany where
you have churches that are grand but
empty, or even in North America we have
churches that are grand but are graying
and aging. The vibrancy and the vitality
that we need to reimagine is in these
other parts of the world.
For me, one of the most disappointing
notions is the extent to which
conservative Christians - and I would
consider myself a conservative Christian -
in the United States of America have
essentially identified with this
American civil religion of the Right, so
that there's a very little distinction
between, for example, the political
platform of the Republican Party, the
right wing of the Republican Party, and
the religiously informed beliefs of
conservative Christians. And I think that
shows up more than anything on a couple
topics: one is, you know, capital
punishment, and like, who actually ends up
being executed by the state: does the
state have the right? Of course; but is
that right administered in a way that is
just and equitable and is fair? I would
argue that it isn't. And then the other
place it shows up profoundly is in
attitudes towards immigration. And I
think this is where repentance is really
being called for, especially among
so-called conservative biblical
Christians who are strident in their
conviction that, or their attitudes
towards so-called undocumented
immigrants. You know, one of things I hear
often, people say, well, you know, they
ought to come to our country the same
way other people came: the way my
forefathers came to the country - you know,
my fore-parents came to the country
legally! I mean, they got in legally, and
they worked hard! Well, I mean, how legal
was it when you just kind of showed up
at Ellis Island and didn't have syphilis
or didn't have, you know, some kind of
communicable disease, so then you were,
you know, given a pass and you were
admitted to the United States of America.
I think the other place that that
attitude is profoundly distorted is with
respect to the faith that these
immigrants bring. Most immigrants to the
United States of America are Christian.
Like, overwhelmingly in the 75 or 80
percentile of immigrants are Christians.
In fact, if it weren't for the
immigration of Latinos into the Roman
Catholic Church, Roman Catholic churches
would be empty. A shift with respect to
our attitudes towards immigrants and
so-called undocumented immigrants is
being called for in this time.
So "post-colonialism" is a critique and a
proposal. It's a critique of the way
colonialist structures
captivated the imagination
and the land and the soil and the soul
of people in countries that were
colonial-ized. What colonialism did
religiously was, it had an impact on
the faith practices and traditions of
people in developing countries. Post-
colonialism would say that faith needs
to be more enculturated, or it means
it needs to be more contextualized in the
language of the people. And I think this
is a place where Lutheranism really
stands at a distinct advantage, because
it was Luther who said, "God be praised":
finally the Bible is in the hands of
ordinary people, and in their language. In
fact, another place Luther says, if you
want to really learn how to talk about
Jesus to ordinary people, interview the
mother who is taking care of her
children; interview children who are
playing on the streets; interview
ordinary workers, ordinary laborers.
So Luther then brings the Word of God to
the people of God, and so I think
Lutherans have a real opportunity to
use this very Lutheran principle of
enculturation, or scriptures and
liturgies in the language of the people
to engage in post-colonial mission work.
In the United States of
America, we are in the most
tumultuous time since probably
the 1960s, and part of it has to
do with the fact that we're in the midst
of one of the most cataclysmic
demographic shifts that any nation has
ever attempted to absorb. So in the U.S.
in 1960, it's 85% white according to Pew
Research; and then in 2060, the U.S. is
43% white - and that's an amazing
shift demographically, and I think that's
created a lot of anxiety especially
for white people, who will be in the
minority. It's created anxiety that has
led to political movements that are
really nostalgic; they really call
us to some kind of vestigial kind
of notion of a mythical America that once
existed - that probably never really
existed - and you know, we hear calls to
"Make America Great Again," we hear calls
to, you know, make America rich again; we
hear calls that are really not, are
a-historical: they don't pay attention to
really what history is doing, and they
don't pay attention to the opportunities
that we do have in this new multi-ethnic
America! And what about Christians? And
how do Christians actually deal with
that, when we have a nation that's gonna
look more and more like the kingdom of
God? All people from all places in all
times and all nations and all tongues.
I believe that God's actually up to
something with the multi-ethnicity that
is in the United States of America; it's
not like a mistake of history that we're
becoming such a diverse nation. This is a
great thing, this is a God thing! We ought to
seize and embrace this opportunity, and
all that it offers, instead of, like,
acting out of fear! I mean, you can
imagine a worst-case scenario, or you can
imagine a new and greater future.
And imagination leads to
creativity. So we can use our imagination
to actually think of, like, solutions, and
lead the world/ Christians ought to be at
the leading edge of a multi-ethnic
America. And unfortunately, Christians and
even more sadly my own tribe the
Lutheran Church is, you know, more
white and more English-speaking than any
other religious group in the United
States of America - including Mormons,
which is stunning: it takes work to be
that white, because Mormons had laws and
rules against non-whites joining. So how
is it that we got the way we are?
So, there was a man born in 1929 on January
15th, and his name was Michael King, and
his father's name was Michael King, and
his father was a Baptist preacher, and he
visited Germany, and he was so captivated
by the legacy and by the contributions
of Martin Luther - that brought change, and
brought education to girls for the first
time, and brought literacy: literacy
rates just dramatically rose because of
the Reformation. And this Michael King
was so enamored by this Martin Luther
that he changed his own name to Martin
Luther King,
and he changed the name of his son
to Martin Luther King, Jr. - and as they
say, the rest is history. "We hold these
truths to be self-evident, that all men
are created equal. That they
are endowed by their creator
with certain inalienable rights. That
among these are life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness. We must decide
whether those words will be firmly etched
into the structure of our nation.
So race is interesting, right? Because it
doesn't exist: scientifically, chromazone-ally,
but it's everywhere. The way
we delineate and define others
based on their kind of outward
appearance, of pigmentation or other kind
of physical attribute. So what's up with
this? Well, I think it has to do with, kind
of, you could look at it kind of
anthropologically: that humans are kind
of wired to associate with people who
are like them, with their own tribe - and
that we kind of fear the other as the
enemy. And so that's good if you're, like,
on the Serengeti Plain: it keeps you
alive, right, when there's an enemy or
where there's a...but it's not good when
you're in a pluralistic society, where
you have to figure out a way and
configure a way to do life together, to
form a kind of community. So what's
going on in terms of race in
America? Well, in the
first place we've got
racial guilt, and whenever people are
guilty, bad things happen - or if they feel
guilty, or they feel ashamed. So you've got,
like, whites who feel guilty because of
the kind of history and lineage of
racism, and they don't know what to do
that guilt; and you've got got blacks who
feel, and Latinos who feel, like, ashamed
because they're not white - and you have all
these kinds of layers and levels of guilt
and shame. So there's a kind of
psychological anxiety that people have
around race - that's one kind
of thread, or one kind of layer
of what's going on with the race question.
The other thing,
and I actually take a positive view: I
actually think we're doing incredibly
well. I mean, what nation in the world...
On the day I was born, January 14, 1963,
I wasn't born in the United States, but I
got here as quickly as I could.
I hope I haven't messed it up too much
for you! I've tried to be, you know,
a positive contributor to this great
society; and I think this is the greatest
country in the world, because of the
opportunities it gives! Why do you think
immigrants are all trying
to get to this country?
Because it is, in many ways, the greatest
experiment ever known in terms of what
does it mean to build a nation of people
together. But on the day I was born in
Montego Bay, Jamaica, January 14, 1963, a
governor was sworn in on the steps of
the Alabama state capitol in Montgomery,
George Wallace. And in his inaugural
speech, he says: "segregation today,
segregation tomorrow, segregation forever!"
Before my 50th birthday, a President
named - and I don't care if you agree with
his politics or not - Barack Hussein Obama
is re-elected President of the United
States of America. That only happens here.
And then add to that the coda, that, you
know, eight years after his first
election in 2008, we have a President who
could not be more diametrically
different than Barack Hussein Obama - and
we have a peaceful transition of power!
That only happens in the United States
of America, that whole sweep only happens
here! I take a really positive view. We've
got work to do, and I think the reason
that we are kind of experiencing at this
time this kind of rise of racial anxiety,
is because we know we have work to do,
and we know that we're better than this,
and we know we've been called to be
better than this. So I
take a King-ian approach,
right? You know, that we have to
live up to the meaning of our
founding documents. They talk about all
people, you know, having these rights,
these basic fundamental rights. And I
think there's something that's inherent
in who we know we are called to be, that
gives us so much anxiety, and is the
cause of some of the tension that we
have. And of course, there's anxiety
because of the shifting demographic, and
what that has created is a community
that's very anxious, a community that's
very afraid. But, you know, if we look back
at our history and see where we've kind
of come, I think it gives us all of the
reasons possible to be just really
confident in what lies ahead in the future.
So what did Luther do October 31st, 1517?
Whatever he did, I know it wasn't this: he
didn't say, "Here I stand, I can do no
other!" That happened later.
the first thing Luther did was, he said,
let's have a dialogue. Why can't
Christians just start that way? Rather
than just kind of discounting the other,
eliminating the other, killing the other;
you know, arguing down the other,
anathematizing the other: why can't we
just say, let's have a dialogue? What are
we so afraid of? Why are we afraid of
conversation? I mean, yes, we believe, teach,
and confess something, and it's a
rock firm commitment, but
it's in dialogue, it's through
dialogue that relationships are
built. It's through dialogue that trust
is built. It's through dialogue with
people who are different than us, then we
realize that maybe we're not as right
as we always thought we were. It's sad to
me that we've probably exacerbated by
social media - drawn up these echo
chambers, these kinds of cocoons of mutually
confirming circles, in self-congratulatory
loops of self-echoing and
self-confirming. What do they call that,
confirmation bias? Where you just
talk to people who agree with you, and
you never delve out? I think that's a
weakness. One of the strengths
of the church is that the church brings
together people from a lot of different
communities, a lot of different
backgrounds, and we're stronger: hybridity
makes us stronger, not weaker. Yeah, I
think this arguing that we see
Christians engaging in probably comes
from the fact that we are insecure about
what we believe. If we were confident in
what we believe, we would engage the
other. It's really interesting that when
liberals and progressives lose
confidence, they tend to jettison
Jerusalem, jettison Jesus, jettison the
things of God, and they become secular.
And when conservatives lose confidence,
when my tribe loses confidence, we tend
to "anathematize Athens": we
tend to say, we tend to
sing "A Mighty Fortress is
our God" with new vigor, and
up comes the walls - we build walls,
or we lift up the
drawbridges, and we break
connections with other
people. One of my favorite so-called
church fathers - these ancient
leaders of the church - was a man named
Tertullian, and Tertullian once asked
this question that is relevant for
people who are in academic communities
like I am. And his question is, what does
Athens have to do with Jerusalem? And by
that question, here's what he meant: he
meant, what does Athens (the kind of
secular, sophisticated society) have to do
with Jerusalem, which is the place of
faith, the place of religious belief, the
place of piety. And you know, there's a
lot of ways you can answer that question:
you can answer it quickly by saying,
"nothing!" Athens has nothing to do with
Jerusalem. But in the Lutheran tradition,
there's this kind of notion that Athens
and Jerusalem are best when they're held
in tension; they're best when they're held
in this kind of healthy dialogue - that's
why dialogue matters - that Athens and
Jerusalem are best understood when
they're in this kind of healthy creative
tension, to use a phrase by Martin
Luther King - a creative tension between
Athens and Jerusalem.
Now, when liberal Christians lose
confidence, which I think has happened,
their reaction to the Athens/Jerusalem
dialectic and tension is to jettison
Jerusalem. So they lose their kind of
religious affiliation; you see that often
in academic institutions that no longer
have a kind of rooting in their faith
tradition; they become embarrassed by the
name of Jesus. And when conservative
Christians lose their confidence, when
conservative Christians lose their
confidence, what they tend to do is
anathematize
Athens: they become rigidly sectarian, and
they say there's nothing good that we
can learn from over there; there's
nothing that Athens can teach us, there's
nothing that we can learn from the world.
And so they develop, they resolve, the
tension: something that is supposed to be kept
in tension, they resolve the tension on
the other side. So in a time like this, a
time of great transition demographically,
a time when we are feeling unstable and
destabilized as a nation, and a time when
traditions are being called into
question, the easiest thing to do is to
hold on to the kind of messianic
promises of one who can "Make
America Great Again." The harder thing to
do, the much more difficult thing to do,
is to trust the promises of God in Jesus
Christ, and faith is always a risk.
Isn't it Kierkegaard who talked about faith
as this leap of faith: it's always a leap,
faith is never not a leap.
These so-called Ten Commandments
can be viewed, I guess, as, you know,
adages that are no longer pertinent, or
no longer have any relevance in the
world or for our way of living - and have
to do with, like, idol worship and golden
calves and all the various ways in which
people think about, you know, primitive
superstitious religion. I want to propose
another take, that I've been
thinking about, and that is, this
First Commandment is more pertinent
than ever, and remains the critical
commandment for our age, and in our time,
and in our culture, and for the places in
which we find ourselves. Because if we
look at the way our society kind of
constructs itself, and if you look at
what we prioritize, it's clear
that we've got an issue; we've got real
issues with idolatry. I mean, Luther once
said you can make a god out of anything.
Humans just have this capacity to make a
god out of anything. We can make a God out of
that person we look at in the mirror, and
then we think that person that we see in
that mirror is like a god. In fact there
was a poet named W. H. Auden - I really like
what he says - he says, the image of myself
that I create in my own mind in order
that I might love myself, is much
different than the image of myself that
I create in the minds of others in order
that they may love me. So we are like
image creators and crafters; we're really,
really good at that, and that's a problem.
Then that's a problem because we
then prioritize ourselves over and against
other people and other things. And so
this also extends to the way we have
commodified our world. We've organised
our world in such a way that whatever
kind of material goods make us feel good,
we turn into gods - goods and gods,
there's actually almost a relationship
between those two words - we turn these
goods and these things and these
possessions, and we end up possessed by
the possessions that are supposed to be,
like, good for our use and good for our
enjoyment? Because what it does is, it
diminishes who the human person is, and
what the image of God really is in the
human person, because then you've got the
image of myself that I create my own
mind that actually supplants and takes
the place of the image of God.
This, like, 500-year notion of indulgences: what does
that have to do with where we find ourselves today?
It's the reason why Luther took the
indulgence coffer, and turned it into the
community chest. Because it's really a
statement, that's an indictment, of how we use
the things that God has given us, and for
whose sake we use them, and who benefits
from the great blessings that God has
given us. Is it for the building of
these cathedrals, or for the paying of
penances, or is it for the poor?
Luther turned the indulgence coffer
into a community chest from which he
drew resources in order to help people
in the community: who were widows, who were
orphans, people who had no one to care
for them. In fact, if you look at the
scriptures, the scriptures has more
language about the moral and the justice
questions of how we care for the poor
than it does for any other social topic,
any other kind of moral topic - the
care of the poor. The poor you will have
with you always, and because you'll have
with them with you always, Deuteronomy 15
says, therefore do something about it! In
other words, it's not a excuse to do
nothing about it because they're gonna
be with you all the time.
But it's an opportunity to actually take
action on the basis of faith, to love the
neighbor, to love those who are different.
That's what love is made for, and it's a
command: love is a command; that's another
Lutheran thing about law and gospel,
right? So love is a command of
God; love is not like a joyful,
often thing to do - love is work, love is
hard work. It's really hard to love the
neighbor; it's even harder to love the
enemy. It's even harder to love those who
are coming at you; it's even harder maybe
to love the outsider; it's even harder to
love the immigrant; it's even harder to
love people who don't walk like us,
if people don't talk like us; people who
make the same kind of money we make. But
that's what love is made for. And I think
that's I think it's a particularly
Lutheran insight that, you know, love
flows from faith. I mean, there is a truth
that all good gifts do come from God - of
course, that's what we pray, "give us this
day our daily bread" - because God is a
giver and God's a giver of all good
gifts. So only in the United States of
America would we turn that into a
religion, a religion of materialism,
a religion of commodification, a religion
where preachers become like pimps
who prostitute people with promises that
are empty, and that leave people in
shambles, and that destroy lives, and that
pervert both economics and economic
principles, and good economics, and
pervert the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
You know, while I'm at it, I've been
thinking a lot about this notion that
there are a lot of people in the U.S. who
get wealthy from the kind of poverty
industry. So if you think about, like,
rent-to-own furniture: what is that?
That's like capitalism gone crazy! You
think about, like, same-day-loans, so you
can bring, like, your check in, your
paycheck in, and they take a large
portion of your paycheck in order to
give you your money. So I believe of all
the economic systems there are, ours is
probably the best: but we've got to be a
little bit more critical,
engage in a little bit more constructive
critique, a little bit more critical and
self-critical about the ways we think,
and what we think about these
possessions, and the way we develop these
systems - these kinds of structures of
poverty - that keep people without access
to opportunity. That's the cause of
poverty: poverty is caused by a lack of
access to opportunity. Poverty is not
caused by a lack of initiative; poverty
is not caused primarily by structures
and systems; poverty is primarily caused
because people don't have access to
networks of technology, don't have access
to networks of success, don't have access
to networks of connectedness so
they get... You know, I was talking with a
guy not long ago; he lives in a community
here - he's one of the wealthiest members
of our community here. And I asked him,
you know, how did you get to where you
are? And he said, it was just dumb
luck - but I guess if I had to
think about it, it was that I was born
into the right family, and then when I
was 21 years old, my father said, you know,
hey, it's time: I want to introduce you
to some people. We went out
to a tavern, we spent several hours
drinking, and then after several hours of
drinking, he says to me
(that we were out with), he says,
"Congratulations, you've just passed your
first interview!" "I said, what are you
talking about?" He says, well, you know,
"Welcome to Morgan Stanley."
One of the world's, you know, most
significant Wall Street firms, and it was
because he had access: he had
access to a family that cared for him, he
had access to friends that were able to
give him the hook-up, he had access to
employment opportunities that other
people don't have. So I think one of
things we need to take seriously also
are these opportunities we have, to give
people access to these networks of
success that will lead to lives of
success.
So in his "Life Together," Dietrich
Bonhoeffer makes this amazing point: he
says that people who love community, as
important as community is, end up
destroying community; that if you want to
build community, the way you build
community is you build love in Jesus
Christ - not build community. So that
community then ends up being kind
of a byproduct, or a result, a secondary
benefit that you accrue from having the
right focus. So if the focus is on the
things of God and on God himself, then
community will result. I think the same
thing happens with diversity. The people
who try to like intentionally build
diversity can often end up destroying
diversity, because if you try to
intentionally just have all these
boxes that you tick, or these kinds of
pigeonhole categories that you
fit people into - like, we need one of them
and one of them, and then one of them and
one of them - attempt to kind of build
diversity in that sort of way, I believe
that you end up destroying diversity. Now
I do think you have to be intentional
about who's at the table. One of the things I
like saying is that if you're not at the
table, you're on the menu! So you've got to
be careful about who's around the table.
But it's like, these people who
overly love diversity create this new kind
of idolatry, a new kind of misfocus...
...create a new kind of diversity that becomes its
own idolatry, and becomes the new problem.
One of the acrostics I like
to describe diversity: D-I-V-E-R-S-I-T-Y is
Different Individuals Valuing Each other
Regardless of Skin, Identity, Talent or
Years. It's really interesting, it seems
like a simple acrostic until you
kind of unpack it: so it's Different,
like people are different; it's
recognizing that people are actually
different and not expecting them to be
kind of uniform in their humanity. People
are Individuals: different individuals;
and Valuing is really a key word - there's
a difference between welcoming people
and valuing people. I mean, it's one thing
to welcome people - that's really
important - but when I welcome you, it
means that this is my home, not yours.
Welcome to my home, not yours.
But when I value you, that
means you know that you have a sense of
worth: that kind of infinite
worth that God has placed in every human
being: that all human beings have dignity,
value, meaning, and worth no matter who
they are or where they come from. So when I
value you, it kind of gives this sense
that I matter, and the thing about
minorities is that minorities know when
they're valued. Minorities have kind of
got a built-in radar that we have
developed over years for survival's sake,
to know when we're in any kind of danger
or jeopardy or valued or at risk. And so
the thing about, one of the
definitions of privilege is that you
never have to worry about that: you kind
of walk into a room and know that it's
your room. But you know,
minorities have this kind of
notion of what it means to be valued. So,
Different Individuals Valuing Each other
Regardless of Skin, Identity, Talent or
Years. So if you take that word
Regardless, you can kind of look at that
really interestingly: is it, do I value
others because of Skin, Identity, Talent
or Years; or do I value others regardless
of their Skin, Identity, Talent or Years?
So when you do the because rather than
the regardless of, I think bad things
happen. Because if I do I value you
because you have this kind of
exotic difference about you,
it turns the other person into an object.
I almost fetishize the other person, so
it makes it like this: "Oh, I just love
your accent, you just have this beautiful -
the way you people dance, it's just so
amazing! How is it that you do that?"
Now I've turned you into kind of this
object of my own fascination; I've again
participated in that First Commandment,
making of an idol of something, and the
only idol is God and God alone.
So it's Regardless of Skin, Identity,
Talent or Years that I find value in the
other, and that's really what I find to
be a true or better notion and idea of
what diversity means.
Yeah, the Reformation has been not an
easy thing for me to commemorate, and by
the way, I think the verb that best
describes what we do with the
Reformation is not "celebrate": I think
it's "commemorate," because as Yaroslav
Pelikan says, the Reformation is
a tragic necessity. And sometimes
Protestants and Lutherans don't get the
fact that the Reformation split the
church; there's been a like a bifurcation
and trifurcation, and a splitting of the
church ever since. And
so the Reformation was
necessary but it's also tragic. So
"commemorate" is the best way to describe
it. But I have difficulty sometimes with
the commemoration of the Reformation
because, you know, sometimes that's
celebration and the kind of triumphalism
of the celebration where people sing,
you know, what do they call it, the battle
hymn of the Reformation? A Mighty
Fortress is Our God, and they say it
almost as if it's an anthem of this
great conquering movement,
and the ties to which the Reformation
and European categories and
German categories sometimes leave people
like me out, and leave places where the
church is actually thriving as
not having any kind of way in, no
part of that. For me, the Reformation
continues to be a tragic necessity;
it's something we should celebrate, but
there's a tragic element even because of
our ethnocentrism in the Reformation.
So I would take what Pelikan says, and I
would kind of reinterpret
it through another kind of
ethno-cultural lens as well.
Another quote by Pelikan that we like a
lot, is that tradition is the living
faith of the dead; traditionalism is the
dead faith of the living. So what we've
tried to do is the best of tradition,
which is the living faith of those who
are deceased. So as we organize
the book, we have these
various categories, and one of the
chapters that has this
really cool Greek word is "diakonia."
And diakonia has been translated in lots of
different ways, and there's a lot of
arguments about how do you translate
diakonia - and some people translate it
more with a service notion, and
other people translate it more with a
mercy notion. One of the arguments I make
in the book is that it's much better
understood as service than mercy.
In fact, I've got some problems with mercy,
because mercy is a good thing: I need mercy, I
need God's mercy, because God's mercy
means that I as a sinful fallen man have
been reclaimed by Christ: the mercy of
Jesus Christ that has been extended to me for
free. That's an amazing notion. But this
idea that we can kind of give mercy to
other human beings kind of
carries an interior arrogance.
Another big Greek word - well, a big
word in English - sacerdotalism: and it
talks about this notion that I
am the conveyor of everything that God
has, and if it weren't for me, God
wouldn't get to people. And I have
problems with that notion. I think
service is better, because service kind of
implies that we are with people, and
that's actually my favorite preposition
when it comes to diakonia: my favorite
preposition is this notion of with - the
withness of our witness. I like talking
about the withness of our witness, namely
that we don't do
ministry to people, we don't do ministry
for people - that would be like creating
dependencies - we don't
do ministry at people, as if they're kind
of objectified in objects - but we do
ministry with people. We don't do
ministry because people come from
certain categories - that almost
fetishizes them - but we do ministry with
other human beings. We walk along the
road like Jesus did on the road to
Emmaus; we walk along the road
accompanying people through the course
of their lives. And service
begins, as Bonhoeffer says, by
listening. The first act of service is
this: to close one's mouth, open one's
ears, and to pay attention to the other
in a way that is deep, in a way that's
meaningful, in a way that exudes
compassion.
How best does development work happen in
the world? I was President and CEO of
Lutheran World Relief, and one of things
I loved about LWR is that we engaged in
long-term sustainable development, and we
kind of engaged in service in a way that
we were with people over the long haul,
and what we tried to do is strengthen -
not create, but strengthen - the capacity
that they as human beings have. Every
single human person is born innately
with a capacity, and it's our job to come
alongside others and to help strengthen
that capacity. And so I've got a real
issue, I've got like real issues with this
notion of...well, a couple things. One is, what
we'll call "relief pornography," which is
where we depict people living in poverty, in
the worst possible terms. We kind of show
them with distended bellies and flies in
the eyes, and all sorts of
pitiful images that actually
compromise their humanity. We wouldn't do
it to people we actually love. You'd
never do that if it was your grandmother
or your own child; you would never do
that to them. Why do we do it then to
people living in poverty? The best way to
help people get out of poverty is to
come alongside them and help them work
their own way out of poverty using the
resources that they have available to
them, and investing in their resources,
and then helping them provide access to
those networks of success that actually
got all of us to where we are
today. I mean, if someone didn't believe
in us, if someone didn't invest in us, and
someone didn't take a risk on us, we
wouldn't be where we are. So it's the
same thing that works with other people.
So of these 95 Theses, the most
important one is the first:
every day is dying and rising again.
Yes, the old Adam is drowned
in the waters of baptism, but he's a
really good swimmer, and he shows up
every day, and that's why the entire
Christian life has got to be one in
which we remind ourselves that we are,
you know, broken people, that the fall was
not just a minor kind of problem that we
have, but the fall was catastrophic.
It destroyed everything, and there's
nothing after the fall, no
relationship after the fall, nothing
between God and humans, nothing between
humans and themselves, nothing between
humans and other humans - there's nothing
right after the fall. And so the kind of
recognition that it's a day-by-day thing,
it's a day-by-day growth, and just own
that! And that's actually
freeing, that's actually quite liberating.
Like this beautiful flower here: I mean,
in the midst of, you know, dreary dirt, you
have this kind of promise of
Resurrection - that is your promise,
each and every day - so it's okay to
accept the dreariness, it's okay to
accept the darkness, it's okay to accept
the fact that we're broken people. But
then, hold on to the kind of promise of
God that comes out of the midst of the
brokenness. One of things I've kind of
played with is reading the first thesis
of the so-called 95 Theses and comparing
and contrasting that with the First
Commandment, and kind of see how those
things dovetail with each other. So in
other words, if people, like, if their
identity is formed and fashioned based on
how smart they are, the degrees they
have, or their family pedigree, or what
their name is, or what kind of honor they
have, or what kind of wealth they have, or
what kind of privilege they have, or what
kinds of pleasures and treasures
they have accessibility to - if that's
your god, the First Commandment
says, then you know
you're on shaky ground. Thesis 1 says
almost the exact same thing, that the
Christian life is a lack of total
repentance, and there's nothing in and of
ourselves that can bring a return on our
investment that can get us saved.
That's essentially what the first thesis
says. So when you read them kind of in
tandem with each other, an interesting
thing happens: you realize that at the
end of the day, I mean, it's devastating:
it's radical, it goes to the root of
human identity; at the end of the day, you
realize, I don't have anything else. All I
have is this faith alone, in
Christ alone
by grace alone given, revealed in the
Word of God alone - that's all I have. And
when you kind of realize that, you have
two choices: you can be devastated,
but in fact there's nothing you can
do, nothing you can earn, nothing you can
buy, nothing you can purchase, no education
you can achieve or receive, no privileged
position - that speaks to the United
States of America - no privileged position
of power or prestige that can give you
validity - there's nothing, except
for the promises of God...in this
Palestinian preacher from the outback
country. Doesn't even come from Jerusalem
or a center of power, but comes
with an accent - he speaks with an accent -
he comes from the alley, he's an outsider;
comes from the margins. And from the
margins, then, is our salvation in Christ,
who is the center of our faith. That's
devastating! And it's devastatingly
joyful! In other words, it
frees you up, it frees you
up to trust God and nothing else.
When it's just us, then it's not justice; if it's justice
for just us, it's not justice - it's something else.
It's really interesting to see what we do
with the joyful faith of people who have
no particular reason for joyful faith,
when we have all the commodities and
amenities known to humanity, and we are
the most depressed nation in the world.
Now, I don't want to take lightly
people who struggle with mental
illnesses, which depression is, but
there's something going on there: that we
have all this stuff, yet we are in
such anguish, and feel so empty. What is
that all about? And then we have people
who have nothing, and they have so
much joy. Actually, what that's about, is
that confirms the notion of the first of
the 95 Theses, and the first of the Ten
Commandments: it confirms the notion that,
you know, where is life really found
and where is meaning really found?
So Lutherans love Latin phrases, and one
of the phrases that predominated at the
time of the Reformation was this notion
of really what constitutes sin,
and the kind of crisis of self that is
at the center of sin; this notion of this
Latin phrase "Incurvatus in se ipsum,"
that sin is: to be radically turned in,
radically self-obsessed, radically
concerned first and foremost
with myself. So that
is then the essence of our
bondage, the essence of, "we are
in bondage to sin and cannot free
ourselves." If that's at the heart
of sin, what then would be at the essence
of the contradistinction to that? What
would be the essence of the other? And
that would be simply to be radically,
just as radically, turned away from self
and turned toward God in faith and
turned toward one's neighbor in love. And
the breakthrough of the Reformation was
at that critical juncture: that kind of
notion that there's nothing that the
self can do to disentangle himself or
herself from the fetters and the
tentacles of sin. And then it takes,
another Latin phrase, "extra nos,"
something coming from outside of us -
namely the grace of God - that breaks in
through the Word of God, that's
apprehended by faith alone. And when that
breaks in, we become set free from the
shackles of this dominant self-occupying
sin. We're set free then to serve others;
we're set free to be people of joy: for
the first time in our lives, we can
actually have real joy, true joy. And true
joy doesn't come when you pursue it. True
joy comes as a gift, as a by-product of
faith in Jesus Christ.
And that's just the way it is.