Killing Religion?

I recently received notification of a new follower on Twitter and the “about” portion of this person’s profile says, “Love killing religion one life at a time” and then goes on to describe the founding pastor of such-and-such Church.

So, you’re a pastor and your bi-line on Twitter is “Love killing religion”?  How’s that working out for you?

Maybe I have just gotten tired of the “relationship versus religion” cliche.  I don’t see the hidden code in it anymore.  If you are a pastor and your vocation is to tend a flock of people who gather in whatever habitual manner for this event called worship...you aren’t killing religion.  

I’m not speaking of the newly broadcast phenomenon of the “nones” or the “spiritual but not religious” era that we are now comfortable talking about.  I have no issue with folks who claim to be in either of these categories because I have been one of those people.  I was a self-avowed free-range spiritual type who would not be stuffed into any cubby-hole.  I get that.

I have just lost my patience for the whole “you need a relationship more than you need religion” thing.  Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s maturity, maybe I’m just comfortable calling the demonstration of a relationship what it is: Religion.  

In my first church I had a parishioner come up to me and say that she didn’t like the way I did the communion service, that it was too ritualistic and she didn’t really care for ritual. (Of course she told me all of this by using the royal “we”... or it might have been the covert “some people.”) But what I shared with her is that she actually did like ritual; she just liked different ritual.  

When I arrived at the church I was told that the last Sunday of the month was “Birthdays and Anniversaries Sunday” where members of the congregation would come up and put coins into a little church, all the monies went to mission. 

I was also informed of several other little traditions of “how we do things here” -- all of which were rituals.  Rituals are patterns of behavior that become part of a culture.  Local congregations are full of little rituals, and sometimes a distinct lack of Ritual is part of their rituals.

So when I encounter folks who take pride in “Killing Religion One Life at a Time” and they are in the employ of the Church, I have to wonder if there are actually people out there who still need to hear those code words.  And I want to say something like, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

I think of it like this.  Religion is to a person’s relationship with the Divine, like demonstrations of love are to your significant other.  Of course, if you have never been in love AND if you have no real belief in the Divine then this analogy is probably lost on you.  But if you have either one then stick with me.

I have been married for 15 years. After this amount of time you would think that my wife and I would be rather comfortable in the knowledge of our love for one another.  We have a very healthy and secure relationship.  That being said, I still say to her pretty much every night before I go to sleep, “I love you, baby.”  And when we have been separated due to work requirements I have said it to her picture.  Why? Because love needs to be expressed.  If my wife ever stopped saying, “I love you” when I left for work, I would wonder if something was wrong.  Depending on how long a time passed, I would ask her about it.  And if she said, “Wow! Do you really need me to say that all the time? Can’t I just say it when I feel like it?”  If she said something like that it would hurt and I might wonder if she still loved me--and I know she would feel the same way if it was the other way around, too.

So why is it that we take this tact with our relationship with the Divine?  Some say that religion is about doing specific deeds to earn the love of God.  I think that’s a pretty petty and judgmental thing to say. Do folks get into ruts and go through the motions from time to time?  Sure.  Ever talk to a couple that has been married for 50 or 60 years or more?  They will tell you that they aren’t hot and steamy in love for each other all the time.  There is an ebb and flow to being “in love” but one thing is certain little rituals like, “I love you, baby” never went away.

And so it is with religion.  There is an ebb and flow, and there are time when we go through the motions.  As one pastor put it, “There are times that the Daily Office feels like sand in my mouth” but religion is the action that draws us to the water of life over and over and over again.  

What I know of our body’s need for water seems to be the way my spirituality needs practice.  If I go without water for an extended period of time, dehydration sets in, the body doesn’t function the way it needs to.  Pretty much everybody knows, you have to drink a certain amount of water every day whether you feel like or not.  In case of point, most folks know that if you feel thirsty you’ve gone too long without water.

This is the way I see the “Killing of Religion” from those who would call themselves Christian.  You’re inviting people to live in spiritual dehydration, telling them it’s okay to only drink when they are thirsty and hurting them spiritually in the guise of doing something good.

Messengers, Shepherds and Redemption Songs

Sermon "notes" from Sunday, December 30th.  I was using Luke 2:8-20 as my text.

If you’ve seen the animated movie of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer you might remember the song that Rudolph and his friend Hermey sing:

“We're a couple of misfits / We're a couple of misfits / What's the matter with misfits / That's where we fit in!

Why am I such a misfit? / I am not just a nit wit! / I'm an adorable reindeer / Why don't I fit in?

Why am I such a misfit? / I am not just a nit wit! / They can't fire me. / I QUIT!”

I’m a sucker for misfits, personally.  The Goonies is one of my favorite movies, I loved cheering for the Patriots when they were underdogs (If you can remember back that far…), I fell in love with our last cat, Libby, because she was the runt of the litter. In fact, that’s the ‘chink in my armor’ that my wife exploited so that we would bring Libby home from the farm.

Growing up and into my early 20s I never really identified that the gospel was for misfits, too.  I always thought that Jesus only loved the holy people, people who had their lives together, the pretty folks, “The Beautiful People”…not misfits, underdogs, ragamuffins, Goonies and sinners.  But, at least in Luke’s gospel, the first declaration of Good News, the first “Evangelion” comes to misfits, outcasts, the shady, street-savvy shepherds.

It’s important to get the historical context behind Shepherds, because we, in the contemporary church, have cleaned up Christmas to pretty pastoral images that give us little understanding of who was actually there.

Shepherds were poorly educated; they did not own land; they pretty much lived with the sheep day in and day out, which means they smelled like live-stock and earth and a general lack of hygiene.  Our pretty nativity shepherds compared to the real deal are like Gene Autry versus Fist Full of Dollars or Good, Bad, Ugly Clint Eastwood.  You’ve got pretty, cologne-scented people and leather, sweat and earth.

Shepherds were (and still are) humble underdogs that nobody really wants to be around, and it is to these folks that the good news is declared.

Luke says they were watching their flocks by night and that an angel, a messenger of God, appears to them with God’s glory shining all around, and the shepherds were terrified.  Luke’s words right there, “And they were terrified.” Greek is “Megas Phobeo” Megas = Big…Phobeo = Fear.  They had big fear at the messenger and God’s glory.  They were terrified.  Why? Because they are shepherds.  They are dirty, smelly, nasty sheep tenders standing in the presence, the evidence, the sure sign of God’s presence.  That’s the glory of the Lord; the splendor, brightness, magnificence and majesty of God.

Now you might remember that I described shepherds as uneducated and maybe you’re thinking that they wouldn’t know about the glory of the Lord—the kabod (“ka-vode”) Yahweh.  But these are good, observant first century Jewish folks who know their Torah and they know that the the Kabod Yahweh means if you’re not holy, you stay the heck away!  

So as they back away in fear the angel says, “phobeo me”…”fear not”…”no fear!”…”Do Not Be Afraid!” That, in and of itself, is good news!  

The glory of God is shining and the message is “don’t be afraid!” 

Don’t be afraid I have good news for you and for all people.  A Savior is born! The messiah is born! And he is here for everyone, not just a Jewish Messiah, not just a Gentile Messiah, not an American Savior, or a Representative for the Righteous and Holy Ones.  He is the Rescuer of the Whole of Humanity!  He hasn’t come to stand in judgment with the “holier than thou’s”; he’s come to be in solidarity with those who feel stuck in squalor…to lift us up from the miry clay and teach us HIS new song!

This is how you find him, the messenger says.  This is where you’ll find him, the messenger says.  The angel doesn’t say, “Hey Sinners! A Savior’s been born and you better find him soon!” Like some kind of sacred scavenger hunt.  No.  “This is how you find him,” the messenger says.  “This is where you’ll find him,” the messenger says…and then the sky explodes with light and song.  Creation and the heavens cannot hold the joy any longer and a multitude of messengers break forth into the song of God’s glory—they sing of the declaration of God’s peace—teaching us the song we are to sing as a rescued people.

Songs about being rescued from loneliness, rescued from shame, rescued into the light, rescued into peace—songs of deliverance—redemption songs.  Bob Marley sings it like this:

Won't you help to sing / These songs of freedom? - / 'Cause all I ever had: / Redemption songs - / All I ever had: / Redemption songs: / These songs of freedom, / Songs of freedom.

And the multitude of heavenly hosts sings it like this: “Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”  Peace!  Peace!  I don’t know about you but knowing that peace is God’s gift to those whom he favors (and if you look at the previous message from the one angel the good news is for all peoples!) is good news in turbulent times, a respite in busy-ness, and calm in chaos.  

God holds out to us in the birth of his Son…peace—freedom from fear—not freedom from bad things, but freedom to not be afraid if and when trouble strikes, because God has stepped into our world to be with us in all of it.  

Peace is a gift I need.  And maybe it’s something you need, too.

After the multitude of heavenly host departs, the shepherds are faced with a choice.  They can stay there, reflect and do nothing; confident in the knowledge that God has acted decisively on our behalf, do a “Wow, THAT was cool!” and move on—kind of like Clark Griswold and family at the grand canyon in the movie Vacation—OR they can respond to it, visit this Jesus they’ve been told about, and become messengers themselves.  As unlikely as shepherd angels might seem…

I grew up with the advent of home computers: the Texas Instruments Computers, the Tandy Color Computer, and the high-speed, super slick Commodore 64.  If you’re of that generation, or if you remember it you’ll also remember typing line after line after line of BASIC code to get a chunky, 30 second bit of program to run.  

If there is a final point to this whole message it’s kind of akin to BASIC.  

10 Clear All

20 Print, “Good news of great joy for all the peoples!”

30 Go to 20

Those who know the Messiah/ Jesus, “sing” about him to others (shepherds, kings, learned people, not so educated people, good people, bad people…all people!) and those others who hear our “songs” about Jesus visit Jesus, meet with Jesus, get to know and be known by Jesus and leave as messengers who “sing” about Jesus to “all the peoples.”

If there is a final point, it’s that we’re meant to become messengers.  We’re meant to sing redemption songs to the world, the whole world.  As unlikely as we may seem, think about who the angels went to.  Not to the priests in the temple, but to shepherds in the field.  Not to clean, washed, pretty-smelling holy-holy folks, but to dirty, unwashed, nasty-smelling not-so-very holy at all folks.  Folks that give me hope.  Folks I can relate to, folks maybe you can relate to.