Love wins.

Recently, my wife Laura and I passed a car with a bumper sticker that read simply, "Love Wins."  The sticker is from the terrific book by the same name by Rob Bell (also available at amazon.com). 

Laura said, "If I had to boil my theology down to two words, that's it."  I said, "You're absolutely right.  I think that's my theology in two words, too."

Love wins.

Love's victory may not happen immediately (as a result, impatient people will say it's not enough).  Love's victory may not happen as fast as we want (as a result, anxious people will say we need to try something else).  Love's victory may not look exactly the way we want (as a result, rigid people will say.it's not really working).

But if the story of Jesus teaches us anything, it is that love wins.  Those two words contain all the hope you need.  Those two words can also contain all the suffering in the world.  Love wins.  It's the only thing that really wins.

If you are looking for a two-word summary of the Christian gospel (or is it only pastors who dig two-word summaries of the gospel?), in my humble opinion, there it is.

(If you want one of those bumper stickers, you can click here.  They're available from the Mars Hill Church, and they cost a dollar.)

Calling all cynics!

Do you ever feel jaded or cynical?  Do you feel like nothing meaningful ever changes in the world?  Do you feel like people are hypocritical and selfish?  Anyone who's ever been a teenager, or who is a teenager now, may have gone through periods when it seemed like you couldn't trust anyone to give it to you straight and honest.  (This is why it was once said, "Don't trust anyone over 30.")  Cynicism can sometimes seem like the most logical response to life.

But it can also feel like you're not allowed to be cynical or jaded if you're part of the church.  Some people feel that, if they go to worship, they have to put on a happy face and pretend that everything is hunky-dory.  Periods of cynicism can become a barrier between people and their church communities, as though the church can't tolerate cynicism.

Well, if you've ever felt like that, and you've been thinking that the church can't make room for cynicism, allow me to introduce you to the book of Ecclesiastes.

The book of Ecclesiastes is an extended reflection on the absurd, pointless nature of life.  "Vanity of vanities!  All is vanity," begins the book (1:2).  Or as one translation has it, "There's nothing to anything -- it's all smoke."  For 12 chapters, the author wanders throughout the experience of life and observes the many things that just don't make sense.

For example:
"The people of long ago are not remembered, nor will there by any remembrance of people yet to come by those who come after them."   (1:11)
"Sometimes one who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave all to be enjoyed by another who did not toil for it."  (2:21)
"In the place of justice, wickedness was there; and in the place of righteousness, wickedness was there as well." (3:16)

"The fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other." (3:19)

To some, these may sound like horrible things to say -- "How can you say such a thing?"  But anyone who pays close attention to life will have noticed that things don't always play out the way they "should."  Good people sometimes get burned, malicious people sometimes get ahead; horrible things happen to people who don't deserve them, good things happen to people who don't, and on and on.  It's enough to make a person cynical, or skeptical, or both.

Ecclesiastes is a ruthlessly honest book.  Ecclesiastes does not pull any punches for the sake of appearing "pious."   It is no accident that the book of Ecclesiastes has been a favorite of artists down through the years.  Artists, after all, are willing to see and say things that others won't.  (Cue the Dave Matthews Band, singing the refrain of Ecclesiastes, "Eat, drink, and be merry. For tomorrow we die."  Cue the Byrds singing Ecclesiastes 3.)

Ecclesiastes may not be a book for all the seasons of our lives.  By itself, Ecclesiastes may not provide an adequate foundation for the entire life of faith.  What it does, however, is to clear away some of the "religious noise" that can get in the way of a vigorously honest life of faith.  It provides an access point to faith for people who are put off by religiosity and by people who claim to have all the answers.

Ecclesiastes is about being brutally honest.  That is the path to God.  "The end of the matter; all has been heard.  Fear God, and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone.  For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every secret thing, whether good or evil" (12:13).

What do you think of Ecclesiastes?

The art of reading the Bible

One of the things I love about the Bible is how remarkably rich and complex it is.  There is something in the Bible for just about every phase, stage, or mood of life.  In coming weeks, I'm looking forward to reflecting in this space on various parts of the Bible that are tailor-made for particular moments in life.

Part of the art of reading the Bible is realizing that not every part of the Bible is the same.  This sounds obvious, but I think it bears repeating.  Sometimes, people can think the Bible is rather like a giant collection of fortune cookies -- no matter where you open it up, it's all going to say basically the same thing.  (This mistaken idea leads, first, to the notion that the Bible is very boring.  It also seems to be where we get the rather curious practice of closing one's eyes, opening the Bible, putting your finger down on the page, and taking whatever verse your finger happens to land on as a direct message from the Almighty.  After all, if it's all basically saying the same thing, then it shouldn't matter whether you put your finger down in Leviticus, Matthew, or Revelation.)

But this is not the case at all.

The Bible, as a whole, points and guides us towards life with God, living with God, a relationship with God.  But since different people come to their relationships with God from many different places and experiences, we shouldn't expect a "one size fits all" text.

Because God is not a "one size fits all" God.  God does not force each of us into the same mold, no matter what.  God is not interested in making robots out of us.  God comes to us where we are, as we are.  (Now, this does not stop some people from wanting a "one size fits all" Bible or a "one size fits all" God.  Such a God would be much easier to understand and even control or predict.  But God is much larger than that.)

There are texts in the Bible for people who have just received great news; there are also passages for people who have just received crushing news.  There are texts for people who are just beginning their lives of faith; there are also passages for people who have been walking the journey of faith for a long time.  There is a whole book of the Bible for people who have become cynical about life (I'll be blogging about this one soon); there are also books for people whose lives have basically fallen apart.  There are texts for people who are raging with anger; there are texts for people who are joyful and serene.  There are texts about people who are powerful; there are texts about people who are powerless.

The Bible is a wonderful, rich, complicated collection of books and texts, because life is wonderful, rich, and complicated.  Part of the art of reading the Bible is coming to know the various and different parts of the Bible, so that you can draw upon texts that are appropriate for a given situation.  This will never keep the Bible from being able to surprise you -- God's Word is endlessly surprising as it rearranges our priorities -- but it will help you to hear the Word in all of its wonderful, rich, complicated fullness.

Beginning. Again. All. The. Time.

Being a beginner at anything can be a little scary.  Whenever you're starting something new (or starting over at something), it can feel like everyone else knows more than you.  You go to a new class, or join a new group, or pick up a new hobby, and it can be easy for the thought to cross your mind, "I am a total idiot.  I don't know anything."  You can feel like everyone's looking at you (even if, in reality, they're not). 

It's enough to keep a person from starting anything new!  So we just keep doing the same things we've always done, in the same way, even if those things and those ways are not working for us anymore.

If you are like me and have trouble with any of this, I'd like to invite you to join me in adopting what some Buddhists call "beginner's mind."  This is a concept which suggests that in life, we are all beginners.  All the time.

Beginners do not assume they have figured everything out, but are interested in learning.  Beginners do not assume they already know everything about the people around them, but understand that people are mysterious and complicated and surprising.  Beginners come to life with curiosity and wonder and openness, rather than anxiety and control and resentment.  (Well, when it's put that way, who wouldn't want to be a beginner?)

Adopting "beginner's mind" requires a spirit of humility, for it requires you to acknowledge that you don't know everything.  It involves giving up the desire to seem like an expert.  It involves letting go of the appearance of having it all together. It involves the willingness to say, "I don't know the answer to this question, but I'm interested in working on it."

It also allows us to adopt a more forgiving stance towards ourselves.  When we acknowledge that we are beginners, we can be less hard on ourselves when we mess up.  Instead of beating ourselves up about our failures, we can say, "Gosh, it looks like I still have a lot to learn!  What can I learn from this mistake?"

The phrase "beginner's mind" has its primary roots in Buddhist philosophy and practice.  But Christians will notice that it sounds an awful lot like Jesus:  "Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it" (Mark 10:15).  In order to embrace the kingdom of God, we must come to it as a little child.  Which is to say - as a beginner.  (Many of the deepest theological and human insights will have echoes and resonances across various traditions.  This is what Richard Rohr refers to as the "perennial tradition.")

The Space Between Us

While we were on vacation last week, my wife picked up a book entitled To Bless the Space Between Us, by John O’Donoghue.  It is an exquisite little book of blessings, for an enormous variety of life situations.  While the book itself deserves a post of its own, the expression “the space between us” strikes me as enormously important.

"Honoring the space between us" is a key task of the human life.  The trick is to stay connected to others, but not fused with them.  Be emotionally connected to someone else, but recognize and respect the space between the two of you.  "Honoring the space between" allows each of you to maintain your individuality; the "staying connected" prevents you from being cut off from each other.

Our anxious culture far too easily equates "loving someone" with "doing whatever that person wants."  In this way of thinking, ‘loving someone’ comes to mean ‘to please the person and make him or her happy.’ Once we fall into this trap, we collapse the space and any difference between us, we merge with the other person, and that becomes a very problematic place to be.

It is not really love when one person has to suppress his or her disagreement with another.  It is not truly kind when you withhold your best thinking from someone close to you.  This is a phony peace and an artificial niceness that can never last long.

When we honor the space between us, we stay connected to each other, but we can also allow others the freedom to disagree with us.  When we honor the space between us, we share our own best thinking with others, even when our thinking may not be what others want to hear.  And if others get upset with us because of our different thinking, we give them the freedom to get upset with us and remain connected to them, praying for them, wanting the best for them.

I don’t know about you, but I think this is difficult stuff.  In fact, I would say that this is the hardest stuff there is.  In some ways it is much easier to fuse with others and do whatever they want.  That way, you don’t have to think for yourself.  And it can be much easier to cut off from others and to keep as far away from them as you can.  That way, you just don’t have to deal with their messy feelings and their upset.  But “blessing the space between us” offers us a more excellent way to love others and to love ourselves.