2nd Sunday of Advent, 2024 - The Way of Peace

 The Advent season is designed to mirror the experience of the people of Israel living in exile in Babylon. It reflects their longings, their hope, their desire for peace, the joy they anticipated, and their trust in the steadfast, faithful love of God.

The theme of this second Sunday of the Advent season is peace.

Scripture speaks of four different expressions of peace, each rooted in the life and ministry of Jesus. These four expressions of peace are interrelated, i.e., one leads to next.

Foundational to the other three expressions is peace with God.

The story of the Garden in Genesis 3 reflects our universal human condition. We live with an awareness that we live in disobedience to God, trusting our own wisdom over God’s, following our own way rather than God’s. That awareness gives birth to a sense of guilt and shame, leading us to avoid God. A common religious teaching is our sin separates us from God. In reality, our awareness of wrongdoing, our sense of guilt and shame about that wrongdoing, and our self-condemnation are what separate us from God. Like the man and the woman in the Garden, we hide from God.

In Jesus, God addressed and resolved the alienation inherent to our human condition. The power of sin and death that rules our lives was broken in Jesus’s death and resurrection. In addition, Jesus restored our relationship with God. In keeping with God’s steadfast, faithful love, God claimed us in Christ Jesus as beloved children.

In his life, teachings, and ministry, Jesus revealed to us the nature of God’s steadfast, faithful love (Exodus 34:6—7). God’s faithful love means God does not abandon us or give up on us, even when we sin. His steadfast love means God’s love for us never waivers, even when we go our own way in rejection of what God has taught. In Jesus’s life and ministry, we see that God’s love is expressed in grace and forgiveness. The way God deals with our sin is to forgive it. In spite of our sin, God loves us unconditionally, accepts us unconditionally (i.e., just as we are), and forgives us unconditionally. Relating to us out of that steadfast, faithful love, God claims us in Christ Jesus as beloved children.

The apostle Paul’s word for this reality is “justified.” Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand (Romans 12:1—2). In Jesus’s death and resurrection, we have been brought back into right relationship with God—i.e., justified. As a result, we “stand” in God’s grace as beloved children. It is our new reality. It is our identity.

God’s grace and forgiveness invite us to claim our identity as beloved children. They call us to trust God’s steadfast, faithful love, resting in God’s grace and forgiveness.

This peace with God sets up the second expression of peace found in scripture—inner peace. Inner peace is peace deep within. Jesus referred to this peace as my peace (John 14:27). Paul spoke of it as the peace of God which surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7). Both Jesus and Paul indicated this peace was a kind of peace the world cannot give: not as the world gives (John 14:27); which surpasses all understanding, i.e., cannot be explained (Philippians 4:7). This peace is not something we can manufacture. Paul identified it is one of the nine traits found in the fruit of the Spirit. It is a gift of the Spirit, something the Spirit produces in our lives.

Again, our human condition is one filled with anxiety and fear. This reality is reflected in what both Jesus and Paul said about peace. In his teaching in John 14, Jesus said do not let your hearts be troubled. Paul began his teaching about God’s peace with the exhortation do not worry about anything (Philippians 4:6). Both exhortations reflect the reality that our hearts are often troubled as our minds are filled with worry. In the original language, both exhortations carry the idea of “stop”—stop letting your hearts be troubled, stop being anxious. While anxiety and worry are a normal part of our human condition, we do not have to live there. We can move beyond anxiety into the peace both promised—the peace of Christ, the peace of God. In prayer, we face and name our anxiety and fear to God. In doing so, we put ourselves in a position for the Spirit to move us beyond our anxiety and lead us into God’s peace.

Paul said God’s peace would guard your hearts and minds. Living out of God’s peace rather than out of our anxiety changes how we think. It shapes the choices we make. It also impacts the way we view and relate to others.

Inner peace is a key factor in the next kind of peace we find in scripture—peace in our relationships with others.

What is in our hearts gets lived out in our relationships. The inner angst with which we live—unrecognized, unaddressed, unresolved pain that we run from, that we push down out of our conscious awareness—gets projected onto others in the form of criticism and judgment. The presence of this inner angst is evident in our lack of inner peace, in our sense of guilt and shame. Projecting our unaddressed pain onto others is why we view others as a threat, why we see them as an enemy, why we view them as the problem that needs to be fixed or eliminated.

The writer of the book of Ephesians spoke of how Christ put an end to the broken relationships with which we live. Speaking of the alienation between Jews and Gentiles, the author wrote he (Christ) is our peace; in his flesh he has . . . broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it (Ephesians 2:14—16). How we view another determines how we treat them. In Christ, we learn to see one another as beloved children of God. We learn to view and value, accept and embrace the other as one whom God loves. This shift in how we view the other changes the way we treat them.

Peace in relation to others—even those we would think of as an enemy—is possible because of Christ. Living in peace with others is the way we contribute to the fourth expression of peace we find in scripture—the peace proclaimed by the Hebrew prophets: the peace of the Messianic kingdom.

The prophet Isaiah described the peace of the Messianic kingdom as a peace that is more than peace between nations. It is a peace that permeates all of creation. The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them (Isaiah 11:6). This dimension of peace is possible because the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the seas (Isaiah 11:9). The key to this dimension of peace is learning and living the ways of God—what Jesus called the kingdom of God. In the kingdom, power is not used over, down against others the way power is used in the world (Mark 10:42—45). It is not used to attack, control, or destroy the other. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain (Isaiah 11:9).

The books of Isaiah and Micah both record a vision of when all the nations of the earth would come to Jerusalem to learn the ways of God—that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths (Isaiah 2:3b). As a result of learning and living the ways of God, they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more (vs. 4). Such is the promise of the peace of the Messianic kingdom.

Today’s text from Luke 1:68—79 is a traditional reading for this 2^nd Sunday of Advent because it speaks of peace, specifically the way of peace. The text is the song attributed to Zechariah after the birth of his son born late in life—the one we know as John the Baptist.

The song divides in two sections both sections make reference to peace.

Vs. 68—69 speak of a Messiah who would be a savior, one who would deliver the nation from their enemies—salvation from our enemies and from the power of all those who hate us (verse 74). This messianic king would create a nation in which the Hebrew people could worship God and follow God’s ways in peace, without fear—so that we could serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness in God’s eyes, for as long as we live (verse 74—75).  

This first section of Zechariah’s song reflects how we commonly think about peace. We view the problem as the other, those who make life difficult, in other words, those we view as enemies and “other.” In broken relationships, we are prone to think “If they would just . . . if they weren’t so . . . .” We seldom think about our contribution to the relationship. (Every relationship is reciprocal. Both parties contribute to the situation.)

Verses 78—79 speak of John’s work of preparing for the messiah. This section uses the traditional metaphors of light and darkness to speak of the messiah’s work: the dawn from heaven will break upon us, to give light to those who are sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide us on the path of peace (Luke 1:78—79). The dawn from heaven is a metaphor for the Messiah. He would give light, guiding us on the path of peace. The Messiah would teach the way of life that leads to peace.

This second section of the song teaches us the real reason we do not know peace. The greatest barrier to peace is not external—the other. It is not those we view as our enemies. Rather, the greatest barrier is internal. It is the darkness in which we live—our ignorance of God’s ways, our failure to live them. Our lack of peace is because we do not know or follow ways of God.

Zechariah’s song proclaims that the Messiah—Jesus—came to guide us on the path of peace. He came to teach us the ways of God that lead to genuine peace: peace with God, deep inner peace, peace in relationship with others, the peace of the messianic kingdom. His song reminds us that peace is not possible apart from the ways of the Kingdom that Jesus taught.

This Advent season reminds us that Jesus guides us on the path that leads to peace.  May we, as the people of God and the followers of Jesus—through the Spirit’s power—follow the path that leads to peace, claiming God’s grace and forgiveness for our guilt and shame so that we rest in God’s love as beloved children; opening ourselves to the work of the Spirit who displaces our inner anxiety with the peace of God, the peace of Christ; learning to view and value, accept and embrace one another as beloved children of God rather than seeing them as a threat, as an enemy; working to bring the kingdom into reality on earth so that we can experience the peace on earth the angels proclaimed when they announced Jesus’s birth.

This Advent season, may we walk the ways of God that Jesus taught—the way of peace.

1st Sunday of Advent, 2024 - Longing for What Is Not Yet

Advent is the season on the liturgical calendar that teaches us about waiting—living in what-is as we wait for what-is-not-yet.

The season reflects on and uses the nation of Israel’s experience of looking forward to the coming of the promised Messiah and his peaceable kingdom—what-is-not-yet—as they lived under the rule of foreign nations (Babylon, Persia, the Seleucids, Rome) —i.e., what-is. The Advent hymn O Come, O Come, Emmanuel captures the sentiment of the season.

O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel,

who mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appears.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee O Israel.

The liturgical readings for the season always begin with the ministry of John the Baptizer. John was the forerunner—the one who came before the Messiah to prepare the people for his coming. The gospel writers portrayed John as the fulfillment of the prophesy in Isaiah:

            A voice cries out:

            “In the wilderness, prepare the way of the LORD.

            make straight in the desert the highway for our God.

            Every valley shall be lifted up,

            and every mountain and hill shall be made low;

            the uneven ground shall become level,

            and the rough places a plain. (Isaiah 40:3—4)

John’s message spoke to the deep longing of the people—a longing for the long-awaited Messiah, a longing for his rule of righteousness and justice, a longing to escape the pain and struggle of their current situation. In other words, John spoke to the longing to move beyond what-is to what-is-not-yet-but-will-be.

In the same way, the season of Advent speaks to a longing deep within us—often an unrecognized, unexpressed longing—for what-is-not as we deal with what-is.

The account of John’s ministry in the gospel of Luke (Luke 3:1—15) describes his ministry with more detail than the other gospels. His ministry centered in a baptism that expressed repentance. In defiance of the Temple, it promised forgiveness apart from sacrifices and the priests’ authority. His baptism, denoting repentance, brought forgiveness. 

His preaching explained what that repentance would look like—“fruits worthy of repentance” (Luke 3:8). Each group that came out to him—the crowds in general, tax collectors, soldiers—were instructed in what repentance looked like for them. The average person was to share what they had with those who had none—“Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise” (Luke 3:11). Tax collectors were to not abuse their position, collecting only what was prescribed by Rome (Luke 3:12—13). Likewise, soldiers were not to abuse their power by extorting money from the people through threaten and false accusations (Luke 3:14).

John instructed the people to live the ways of that for which they longed. He taught them to put into practice the ways of the kingdom—sharing with a spirit of generosity, trusting God’s abundant provision; using power on behalf of others rather than over, down against them for personal benefit at their expense (the way power is commonly used in the world—see Mark 10:41—45). John instructed them to live the ways of what-is-not-yet-but-will-be in the midst of what-is. By living the ways of what-will-be-but-is-not-yet in the midst of what-is, the people would help to bring the what-will-be-into reality. They would escape the power of what-is.

The season of Advent speaks to our deep-seated longing for what-will-be-but-is-not-yet. It speaks to our desire to move beyond what-is. In addition, it instructs us to put into practice in our own lives that for which we long—the ways of the kingdom that Jesus taught.

The season of Advent is a season that teaches us about waiting in the midst of what-is as we long for what-will-be-but-is-not-yet. Our waiting is not a passive waiting. It is an active waiting as we work to bring what-will-be-but-is-not-yet into reality in the midst of what-is.

May this Advent season be filled with the ways of the kingdom—what-will-be-but-is-not-yet.

 

All Saints Sunday, 2024

All Saints Sunday—the Sunday following Halloween—is a day of remembering. Like the Day of the Dead in the Latino/a culture (November 1), it is a day of remembering those who have died.

All Saints Sunday remembers “those who have gone before”—before us in death, but also before us in life. We remember those from the generations before our own—parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, ancestors. We remember those through whom we came into existence, without whom we would not be. Some we knew; most we did not. Most are only names our parents and grandparents named from their memories of growing up, names in our family tree. If they are in our family tree, they touched our lives though we never actually knew them.

In addition to calling us to remember them, All Saints Sunday calls us to remember their touch on our lives—how they shaped how we think and the attitudes with which we live—their influence in shaping who we are today. All Saints Sunday calls us, in our remembering, to give thanks for them and for their touch on our lives. It calls us to identify how God touched us through them.

In calling us to remember those who have gone before, All Saints Sunday sometimes brings to mind unpleasant, painful memories. Those who have gone before were—like every person who has ever lived—flawed. Although they were adults, they were not necessarily mature emotionally or spiritually. They had their own emotional wounds from those who shaped their lives, their own unresolved issues inherited from those who went before them. (Until our emotional issues—our emotional wounds—are recognized, named, and addressed, they remain unresolved. They govern how we think and live. They get passed on to the next generation.)  Predictably, their unrecognized, unaddressed, and unresolved issues got dumped on us. As a result, their touch on our lives was sometimes a wounding touch. All Saints Sunday invites us to recognize and acknowledge the wound we experienced from them so it can be healed—resolved rather than passed on. It invites us to say three things so that healing can come. It invites us to say “Thank you,” recognizing the gifts we received from their hand. It invites us to say “I forgive you,” recognizing how they failed in their relationship with us because of their own emotional wounds and emotional issues. It invites us to say “I’m sorry,” recognizing and acknowledging how we failed in our relationship with them. Working through our pain so that we can say these three things frees us to not pass our pain on to the next generation. It stops the flow of pain through the generations. Such is one of the many gifts of All Saints Sunday.

In addition to remembering those who have gone before, All Saints Sunday calls us to face the reality of our own mortality and the inescapable reality of our own death. It reminds us that we too will die, our names will be called in an All Saints Sunday service at some point (if we are so blessed). It calls us to recognize and treasure the gift of life we enjoy in each day. It calls us beyond the autopilot-way we often go through a day, responding to the demands and commitments of our schedule, moving from one task to the next. Specifically, All Saints Sunday calls us to recognize and treasure the people who are a part of our lives. It calls us to be conscious of and intentional about how we touch their lives. It calls us to recognize and address the emotional wounds and issues with which we live so that we do not pass our pain onto others, so that our touch on their lives is not a wounding touch.

Finally, All Saints Sunday calls us to remember who and whose we are. We are beloved children of God (1 John 3:1-3). We are called to be followers of Jesus, partnering with God in bringing the kingdom into reality on earth as it is in heaven. The Spirit lives in us, transforming us into the likeness of Christ, engraining the character of God within us, empowering us to live the ways of God Jesus taught. As beloved children, we are growing up to be like Christ as the Spirit teaches us to think with the mind of Christ—thinking shaped by the character of God and the ways of God (1 Corinthians 2:16). As we intentionally pursue growing in the likeness of Christ, the Spirit will lead us to recognize, address, and resolve the emotional pain and the emotional issues that produce the unhealthy ways we react to others.

All Saints Sunday is about remembering—remembering those who have gone before, remembering the inevitable reality of our own death, remembering who and whose we are.

Remember and be grateful!  

Reflecting on Mark 1:15 – the Kingdom of God Has Arrived

“The time has come at last—the kingdom of God has arrived. You must change your hearts and minds and believe the good news” (Mark 1:15, Phillips).

The time has come at last. The waiting is over—the waiting along with its longing for what might be. That which we long for is now here. It is available for us to embrace.

The kingdom of God has arrived. The Greek word translated as “has arrived” means it is here, now, in our midst. It is something we can experience, something we can participate in, something we can be a part of.

The kingdom of God—life shaped by the character of God, patterned after the ways of God—life that is not dominated by the brokenness of life and its harshness—life that breaks free from the power of our default, anxiety-driven, self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit—life that rises above the chaos caused by that self-serving spirit—God’s kind of life experienced as our reality here, now. The kingdom does not mean we escape our humanness or its struggles. Rather, through the work of the Spirit, it changes the nature of our humanness and how we deal with it.

These first two phrases in verse 15 invite us to embrace a different way of living in the present. It calls us beyond simply doing what the day (the schedule) demands while waiting and longing for something different, something more, something more fulfilling or meaningful or enjoyable or life-giving. It calls us to embrace the present moment and all it holds. It calls us to engage the people and the events of the day as the arena in which we can experience the kingdom that is here, now, in our midst.

The kingdom is here, now, in our midst. However, to recognize it and experience it requires change on our part. “You must change your hearts and minds”—we are accustomed to the familiar translation “repent.” The word in the original Greek means “to think with a different mind.”

Experiencing the kingdom that is here, now, in our midst requires a change of heart—that is, a change in the spirit out of which we live. We cannot experience the kingdom while living out of our inherent anxiety-driven, self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit. Such a spirit blocks our ability to recognize the kingdom that is here, now, in our midst. It blocks our ability to experience it. This default spirit is at odds with the ways of the kingdom.

In addition, experiencing the kingdom that is here, now, in our midst requires a change in how we think. Thinking the way the world trained us to think—merit-based, deserving-oriented thinking with its us-them, compare and compete mentality—blinds us to the presence of the kingdom, keeping us from experiencing it. Experiencing the kingdom requires thinking that is shaped by the character of God and the ways of God—what the apostle Paul called the mind of Christ—thinking taught and guided by the Spirit.

“Believe the good news.” Changing our hearts and minds—repentance—is our response to the good news we hear. It is embracing the good news as truth. It is building our lives upon this new understanding—this new way of thinking and this new spirit. It is allowing our new understanding of spiritual truth to shape how we live and what we do. It is living by faith—a quiet confidence and settle assurance in the truth we have heard and embraced.

The kingdom is good news because it ushers in a different way of living—at least, in our lives when we believe. This new way of living is not based on self-effort with its trying-harder-to-do-better pattern. It is not based upon conforming to laws and moral standards and belief systems. It is not based on having to measure up. Rather, it involves living in glad dependency upon the Spirit who lives in us and is at work in us to transform us into the likeness of Christ.

Changing our hearts is part of the transformative work of the Spirit. Christ has broken the power of Sin in our lives, setting us free from its enslaving power (Romans 7:14-25). (Sin is that default, anxiety-driven, self-serving, what’s-in-it-for-me spirit out of which we inherently live. It is Sin with a capital S. Sins—plural with a small s, i.e., behavior, wrongdoing—are the symptoms of this inner disease.) With the power of Sin—Sin with a capital S—broken, the Spirit is now at work to cleanse it from our hearts, infusing the servant spirit of Christ in its place. The Spirit empowers us to break free from our old sinful behaviors—sins, plural and with a lower case s—to break out of our old sinful patterns (Romans 8:12-13).

In addition, the Spirit is training us to think with the mind of Christ. The Spirit teaches us the deep things of God (1 Corinthians 2:6-16) by teaching us the things of God that Jesus taught (John 14:26, 16:12-15). The Spirit bears witness with our spirit regarding truth, moving us beyond the ways the world trained us to think into the deep spiritual truths that flow from the character of God.

Our response to the good news of the kingdom—which includes the Spirit’s transformative work—is to believe. That is, it is to open our lives to the Spirit and the Spirit’s work. It is to embrace the truths the Spirit teaches us so that our hearts and minds are changed, transformed into the likeness of Christ.

Because of the ministry of Jesus and through the continuing work of the Spirit in our lives today, the kingdom is here, now, in our midst. It is a reality we can experience; we can participate in; we can partake of today. That’s good news! It was good news in Jesus’s day. It’s still good news today!

The Emotional Component to Beliefs

 It seems we keep doing the same thing over and over again—even though it never works. According to Einstein, that’s the definition of insanity. It is especially common in religious life and during political seasons—like the election cycle we’re in now. We all do it, it seems.

We keep defaulting to simplistic, black-and-white, either-or thinking. We ignore the complexity found in any issue, reducing it to a simplistic either-or, right-or-wrong decision. Of course, we think our position is always the right position. Those of us who identify as Christians frequently use the Bible to validate our position as the “right” position and thereby the only acceptable position. “The Bible says!”

This kind of thinking and this way of approaching issues is seldom, if ever, helpful. It inevitably creates us-them divisions. It prevents the kind of dialogue that is necessary for mutual understanding and progress to be made. It is a barrier to learning and, thereby, to personal growth. It denies the value of diversity. It ignores the many ways we are alike while focusing on our differences. It is a barrier to cooperation and compromise. It denies the gifts and insights that others have to offer while stubbornly clinging to the way we already think. It fosters a rigidness that demands “my way” and ignores the common good. It, in short, keeps us stuck, trapped in meaningless standoffs.

Operating out of this kind of black-and-white, either-or thinking, we approach others with an adversarial spirit. We use arguments that support our position—often ignoring or discounting facts that challenge it. At the same time, we attack—often ridiculing—the other’s position. We even go so far as to attack and demean the other person. In this approach, there is no place for kindness. Respect is forgotten. The spirit of this approach is hard, at best, sometimes bordering on being mean.

Missing in this approach is any understanding of or recognition of the emotional component of beliefs. This emotional component underlies and drives our beliefs. It is what creates the inflexible, rigid posture that defends our beliefs against any perceived threat.

This emotional component is more than emotions—although fear is a common expression of it. The emotional component is tied to our sense of identity. Beliefs are a vital part of that sense of identity. They are a common way of establishing our sense of being “right” and thereby okay. They are a way of compensating for our innate sense of inadequacy and the haunting sense that we are not good enough. They are a way we seek to find a place to belong—i.e., those who think like us.

Anything that challenges our beliefs touches these deep-seated, emotional issues—fear of being inadequate and not measuring up, fear of not being good enough, fear of not being valued, fear of not being accepted and belonging. Anything that shows our beliefs to be wrong triggers these deep-seated fears. It threatens our sense of identity and our sense of being okay.

These same deep-seated fears reinforce our us-them thinking. How the other is different threatens our sense of being right and better than the other—i.e., our sense of identity.

Understanding and addressing this emotional component is the secret to moving beyond the polarization that divides us. It is the key to moving beyond black-and-white, either-or, right-and-wrong thinking.

How might embracing our identity as beloved children of God—an identity not tied to being “right” or being better than others—help us move beyond the emotionally-driven insanity of our black-and-white, either-or, right-and-wrong thinking? How might viewing others as beloved children of God help us move beyond the us-them polarization we use to compensate for our fear of being inadequate and not measuring up, our fear of not being good enough, our fear of not being valued, our fear of not being accepted and belonging?

It seems to me the teachings of Jesus speak to this emotional component that underlies our beliefs. Embracing his teachings just might free us from its enslaving power.

 

A Dangerous Game

It’s a dangerous game—one with devastating consequences spiritually. It’s one I’ve played. It’s one we’ve all played. It lies at the heart of and fuels our polarized political climate. During this election season, it’s one I catch myself playing even though I don’t want to play it. It’s one—if I could—I’d never play again.

I call the game “I’m right, you’re wrong.”

You know how the game is played. Pick an issue, any issue—moral, political, religious. We all take sides on the issue—some on one side, others on the opposite side. We can all argue why our position is the “right” position. As our position is the “right” position, the other position is naturally the “wrong” position. We can point out why that position is the “wrong” position.  

The game includes a subtle shift. The focus shifts from the position to the person holding the position. Since we are “right,” the other person is “wrong.” Sadly, this game in its most destructive version views the other person as ignorant—even depraved—eventually, evil—for believing what they do. “I’m right, you’re wrong” fuels “us-them” divisions in which we attack the other.

The game is built upon black-and-white, either-or thinking that ignores the subtleties, nuances, and many-shades-of-gray that are a part of any issue. No issue is as simple as either-or, right or wrong. If truth be told, the game doesn’t require any thinking at all. All that is required is listening for catch phrases that trigger angry reactions.

The game rides on fear—unrecognized fear of differences, of diversity, of those who are not like us, of thinking that challenges what we believe is true. It seeks to use certainty—i.e., black-and-white, either-or thinking—to calm the nebulous anxiety that lives just beyond the surface of our awareness.

The “I’m right, you’re wrong” game is foundational to our sense of identity—well, to our egocentric, constructed self. Our egocentric, constructed self is the persona we created based upon what the world (family, church, society) said we needed to be and do if we wanted to be accepted and valued. It is the persona we use to gain acceptance and belonging, value and significance in our social groups.

Because this persona is something we manufactured, it is fragile. We have to constantly reinforce it—through achievements and accomplishments, through recognition, accolades, and applause, through gaining status and standing, through having affluence, an abundance of things, and the status symbols affluence makes possible (neighborhood, house, car, adult toys, clothes, jewelry, etc.). One of the primary ways—if not the primary way—we prop up our fragile sense of self is by playing this game. By playing “I’m right, you’re wrong”—comparing and competing, criticizing, judging, and condemning—we unconsciously build ourselves up in our own eyes while putting the other person in a one-down position in relation to us. We need the “I’m right, you’re wrong” game in order to feel okay about ourselves. 

Therein lies a key danger of the game. It becomes a hindrance to ever discovering our true self—the person God created us to be. We substitute a persona we manufactured for the person God designed us to be. As a result, we live our lives endlessly striving for more. We never escape the comparing-and-competing mentality. We always see ourselves through the lens of what other people have.

This game is particularly dangerous when it is played with religious overtones—religious beliefs, religious practices, church involvement, “the Bible says,” moral issues. Reinforcing the “I’m right” posture with the God-card produces a closemindedness in one’s thinking and a rigidness in one’s position. The religious “I’m right” position cultivates spiritual arrogance that exists outside of the person’s awareness. This arrogance is seen in the criticizing, judging, and condemning that the person directs at others. If these outcomes were not enough, they are compounded by spiritual blindness. The person is not even aware of the spirit and attitudes that reside in their heart and surface in their criticisms, judging, and condemnations.

The ultimate danger of playing this religious “I’m right, you’re wrong” game is the person never knows the heart of God or experiences the gifts of God’s grace and forgiveness. Stuck in merit-based, deserving-oriented thinking and living, they are blind to the nature and character of God. They never learn or experience the grace-based ways of God.

How do we move beyond playing this “I’m right, you’re wrong” game that is so common to our human condition? We cultivate humility—the acute awareness that all that I am, that all that I understand is a gift of God’s grace. We cultivate a teachable spirit—the willingness to think, to learn, to grow beyond what I already think and believe. We work at listening, attempting to hear and understand the other’s position and what led them to it. We seek to understand the emotional components that led them to their belief? We refuse to argue. We respectfully state our position without attacking theirs. We refuse to play the game even when the other person baits us, attempting to engage us in it.

It is indeed a dangerous game to play—dangerous to our spiritual wellbeing.

The Heart of the Matter: the God Revealed in Scripture

Those who identify as Christians fall, for the most part, into two categories, regardless of their denominational affiliation. Which category is determined by how they view and use the Bible.

One group views the Bible as the divinely inspired Word of God. Thus, it is treated as the final authority on all issues. These Christians use such terms as “infallible” and “inerrant” to describe the Bible. The Bible is to be read literally because “it says what it means and means what it says.” The historical context and culture that gave birth to a particular text are unimportant as the truth of what the text says is just as applicable today as it was in the day it was first spoken. Reading the Bible this way, every verse carries the same authority as any other—at least in theory. These Christians commonly pick and choose which verses they emphasize, depending on the issue being discussed. They commonly proclaim “The Bible says” to validate their positions and beliefs.

This way of reading and using the Bible leads to clearly defined right-and-wrong positions on every issue. It fosters black-and-white thinking with either-or positions on the issue. This black-and-white, either-or thinking tends to be fixed and rigid as “biblical truth—that is, “God’s truth” —is nonnegotiable. “Right belief” is central in this version of Christianity.

Those who view and use the Bible this way proudly call themselves conservatives and evangelicals. Originally, this group called themselves fundamentalists. This identity was tied to their embrace of seven core truths that they referred to as the fundamentals of the faith. The first of those seven fundamentals was this view of the Bible as the inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God. In the last half of the last century, these fundamentalists chose the name “evangelical” to replace the term “fundamentalist.”

Those who view and use the Bible this way refer to the other category of Christians as liberals. Members of this other group generally refer to themselves as progressives.

These so-called liberals or progressives hold differing views of the Bible. Many of them also hold the Bible in high regard but do not view it as infallible or inerrant. They acknowledge that it is divinely inspired while recognizing a human element in it. They identify within the Bible multiple understandings of God and how God interacts with the world—what today we call theologies. These multiple understandings reflect the cultural setting from which they came. Some of those understandings are at odds with other theologies in the Bible. Some actually challenge and contradict an earlier understanding. In the progressive’s way of thinking, all texts do not hold the same authority.

Progressives speak of Jesus—not the Bible—as the Word of God (John 1:1-18). Most view Jesus as the in-the-flesh expression of God who reveals to us what God is like while teaching us the ways of God (the kingdom). As such, Jesus is the final authority to which they turn. The Bible is read through the lens of Jesus. What does not align with the life, ministry, and teachings of Jesus is viewed as culturally conditioned and therefore nonbinding in today’s culture.

This approach to scripture emphasizes the teachings of Jesus as opposed to beliefs about Jesus. Following Jesus’s teachings about God, it understands the nature of God to be self-giving, servant love. Such love is expressed in grace and forgiveness. It embraces all—without exception, without condition—as beloved children of God. It is expressed in a servant spirit that seeks the good and wholeness of each beloved child of God. This focus makes justice issues a greater priority than moral issues. It seeks to establish a loving and just society for all—i.e., the kingdom of God. Thus, “right living” or right relationships (orthopraxy) takes priority over “right belief” (orthodoxy).

This way of viewing and using the Bible calls for disciplined thinking that is informed by biblical scholarship. It is less rigid as it continually seeks additional insight and understanding.

In my mind, the heart of the matter is the God revealed in scripture, not the scripture itself. Scripture is a tool given to us that we might know God and the ways of God. The God revealed to us in Jesus the-word-made-flesh—as recorded in scripture—is what is most important.