Confession and Forgiveness

 

Each Sunday at church,

We begin our service with confession and forgiveness.

 

We pray something like:

 

Merciful God,

you speak blessing and compassion into the world.

Forgive us for the ways we act with judgment, cruelty, or indifference.

We ignore the needs of our neighbors;

we resist your call to oppose injustice;

we give in to scarcity and fear;

we assume the worst about one another.

Cleanse us from our faults and release us from their grasp.

Show us your loving-kindness.

Restore our hearts and repair your world, that we may live in Christ’s ways.

Amen.

 

And then hear words of forgiveness

That usher us into song.

 

Yesterday,

As we collectively read our prayer of forgiveness,

It struck me just how powerful it would be if

All proclaiming Christians, everywhere,

Read aloud those words together;

 

If all proclaiming Christians, everywhere,

No matter how pious and well-meaning,

Embraced the fact that we DO

Ignore the needs of those around us,

Resist doing what’s hard,

Give into scarcity and fear,

And assume the worst about the other;

 

If all proclaiming Christians, everywhere

Focused on the heart of Christ which was

Taking care of those around us,

(Not just our families and friends),

Fighting for what is right for all people,

(Not just those who look and think like us),

Living with the idea that there is an abundance when it is shared with all,

(Not just hoarded for ourselves or a minority of people),

And seeing the possibility of good in all people,

For all were created in the image of God and are doing our best to survive.

 

If all proclaiming Christians, everywhere

Focused back on the heart of the Gospel—

That Jesus came to serve rather than to be served,

That Jesus came to usher in the God’s Kingdom which is one of Love,

And that Jesus came to show us,

Once and for all,

That death and darkness and sin do not triumph,

Rather life and light and forgiveness emerge victorious in the end.

 

Reading those words each week

And embracing forgiveness

Is an act of humility and surrender

To something so much bigger than myself.

 

What IF all proclaiming Christians, everywhere

Were to demonstrate those same acts of humility and surrender

And allow God’s spirit to transform even the vilest of hearts?

 

What IF all proclaiming Christians, everywhere,

Were truly to follow Christ?

 

Amen.

Lost and Found

 

We have a huge lost and found table at school.

Each student walks by it every day,

But very few of them ever claim anything that they’ve lost—

Because most of the time they don’t realize that anything is gone.

Kids are funny:

Out of sight, out of mind.

 

It struck me yesterday that this is how it is with us sometimes, too:

Out of sight, out of mind.

 

I remember one time many years ago when I made the decision to ask forgiveness from a friend that I’d spoken ill of and harbored negative feelings against.

The thing is:

She didn’t know that I was harboring negative feelings

Because she didn’t know that I knew that she had negative feelings toward me.

She had spoken mean words about me,

The words got back to me,

I had responded in kind—

And this had happened repetitively.

Out of sight, out of mind.

 

As I began to feel my anger, bitterness, and resentment grow,

And as I began to understand that it was hurting only me,

I mustered my courage to ask forgiveness.

When I did, my friend was stunned—

Speechless even—

But when she found her words,

She accepted the apology

That she didn’t even know she needed.

Out of sight, out of mind.

 

Our words and actions don’t just affect us,

They affect those around us, too,

And sometimes we have no idea how much.

Sometimes, our words and actions cause us to lose things.

And sometimes, we don’t know we need to be found.

 

May we be a people

Willing to pick up

What’s lost

So we can be found.

 

Amen.

Yes. And. I Love You.

 

You look at me and say:

 

I stole a lot of things when I was younger.

I used to do drugs.

I’m addicted to pain killers.

I once drank so much that I blacked out and ended up in bed with someone I didn’t know.

I’ve had to have someone hold my hair back more times than I care to admit.

He told me he didn’t want the baby and took me to get it taken care of and now I feel very empty.

I’m the other woman.

I never wanted to be a mother.

I don’t love him anymore.

I’m divorced.

He’s abusive.  

I walk on eggshells in my own home.

I don’t feel safe.

I’m on medication for depression and anxiety.

Sometimes I don’t shower because I don’t have the energy.

I have $15000 of credit card debt.

I’m on food stamps.

I go to the food pantry.

I hate my job but it’s what my family expects.

I miss him every day.

I’m exhausted.

I binge watched movies all day so I didn’t have to think.

I’m gay.

The only thing that keeps me alive is not wanting them to find me dead.

I don’t believe in God.

God makes me angry.

I don’t even know if I believe in God anymore, yet I’m their pastor.

 

I look at you and say:

 

Yes.

And.

I love you.

 

Amen.

 

**Adapted from 1.23.14’s note, “Say The Same Thing.”**

**Listen on Spotify: https://anchor.fm/deatonnotes/episodes/Yes--And--I-Love-You-e2eoc42

Atonement Theories

 

I have a vague memory of learning about the different atonement theories while taking a course in theology. Atonement theories are theological explanations that seek to understand the significance and effects of the atonement, which refers to the reconciliation or mending of the relationship between humanity and God through the sacrificial death of Jesus Christ. I remember it being eye-opening and mind-boggling, but I didn’t store it away as something to remember because it didn’t affect my relationship with God or others. I still believed in Trinity God (Father, Son, Holy Spirit), and I still believed in the miraculous and saving power of Jesus’s life and death…so my philosophy of the atonement theory wasn’t something that I stressed over.

 

For the past three days, however, it’s been on the forefront of my mind. I’ve been thinking about it, talking about it, dreaming about it, and struggling with it. So for those of you who want to join me in my quest to know and sit with various atonement theories as held by different traditions and denominations of Christianity, then read on.

 

Remember: All of these are real theories that have been upheld and believed in Christianity throughout history. There will be some that resonate with you and some that you think are flat out wrong, but try to understand why someone may believe what you cannot…and remember that, in the end, these are all theories that try to help us understand what is beyond our comprehension: God.  

 

1. Ransom Theory:

• This theory suggests that Jesus' death was a ransom paid to Satan to release humanity from bondage. The idea is rooted in passages that speak of Christ giving his life as a ransom for many.

2. Satisfaction or Substitutionary Atonement:

• This theory, developed by Anselm of Canterbury, emphasizes the idea that Jesus' death was a satisfaction of the divine justice offended by human sin. It involves the concept of Jesus serving as a substitute, taking on the punishment that humans deserved.

3. Moral Influence Theory:

• Proposed by theologian Peter Abelard, this theory emphasizes that the purpose of Christ's death was to morally influence humanity. Jesus' sacrifice is seen as a demonstration of God's love, inspiring people to repent and turn toward God.

4. Christus Victor (Victorious Christ) Theory:

• This theory views the atonement as Christ's victory over the powers of sin, death, and Satan. It emphasizes the triumph of Jesus' resurrection and the defeat of evil forces.

5. Governmental Theory:

• Developed by Hugo Grotius, this theory posits that Jesus' death serves a governmental purpose. It maintains that God, as the divine ruler, uses Christ's sacrifice to demonstrate the seriousness of sin and uphold moral order.

6. Penal Substitutionary Atonement:

• Similar to Satisfaction Atonement, this theory asserts that Jesus' death was a substitution for the penalty of sin. Jesus took on the punishment on behalf of humanity, satisfying the demands of divine justice.

7. Recapitulation Theory:

• This theory, associated with theologian Irenaeus, sees Jesus as recapitulating or redoing human history in a way that brings salvation. Christ becomes the new Adam, representing humanity in a perfect way.

8. Scapegoat Theory:

• This theory draws parallels with the Old Testament practice of the scapegoat. Jesus is seen as the sacrificial scapegoat who takes on the sins of humanity, removing them and reconciling people with God.

 

Which theory or theories resonate with you? What have you been taught? Which theory presents you with a new thought? Which theory does NOT sit well with you? I’d love to have a conversation…as long as it’s civil! 😊

 

Forgiveness

 Forgiveness is such a complex word.

At my church, we ask for forgiveness at the beginning of worship each week.

We repent from things seen and unseen,

From actions done and left undone,

And we are granted pardon through the grace of Jesus Christ.

Then, later in the service,

We ask, again, that God forgive us our trespasses,

But this time, we include the condition “as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

I find this interesting in two ways.

 

One:

We’ve confessed our sins and been forgiven at the beginning of the service.

So why ask for forgiveness again?

Either we’ve done something sinful during the service—which is entirely possible—

Or we’re acknowledging that acceptance of forgiveness isn’t easy—and that we must be reminded of it over and over and over again.

 

Two: We’re asking God to forgive us AS WE FORGIVE OTHERS.

This means that if we want God to forgive us then we must forgive others…

And, man, that’s hard sometimes!

It’s hard to forgive those who deeply wound us.

It’s hard to let go of the emotional pull of intensely emotional situations.

It’s hard to move past egregious wrongs.

Shoot. It’s hard to move past simple wrongs as well.

Yet Jesus commands us to forgive.

 

As I’ve pondered Jesus’s command this week,

I’ve come to realize that, for me,

Forgiveness comes from a place much deeper than hurt.

Forgiveness comes from common humanity.

God has granted us all the possibility of forgiveness through Christ.

None of us, at our core, is too wrong or bad to receive God’s grace.

If God’s grace is big enough for me,

Then I must allow it to be big enough for you, too.

I must forgive you for being human,

In all of its flaws,

And let God work with you to heal the brokenness that I cannot.

 

Forgiveness doesn’t mean that I have to suddenly like you.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean that we have to be best friends.

Forgiveness doesn’t erase healthy boundaries.

But forgiveness DOES release paralyzing emotional bonds—

Forgiveness DOES acknowledge that we were doing the best we could do under the circumstances—

Forgiveness DOES recognize mental illness as part of humanity’s sickness—

And forgiveness happens in time,

As a daily choice,

Over and over and over again.

 

May we be a people of forgiveness,

Rooted in common humanity,

Not forgetting,

Or glossing over hurt,

Or pretending that everything is fine,

But remembering the grace and love that God gives us,

Day in and day out,

Even in the midst of worship.

 

Amen.  

Wicked The Sixth

 The first time I saw Wicked, I cried.

The sixth time I saw Wicked, I cried.

I don’t remember much about the 2^nd-5^th times,

But I wouldn’t be surprised if I cried.

 

It’s this one scene.

Galinda gives Elphaba, her arch enemy, a pointy black witch hat and tells her to wear it to a party that everyone will be attending that night.

Galinda does this to be mean to Elphaba, but

Elphaba doesn’t realize Galinda’s spite.

She wears the hat to the party as told.

Everyone laughs.

Elphaba sticks out like an even sorer thumb than her green skin.

Even so, Elphaba begins to dance,

Alone.

Something in Galinda shifts.

She begins to dance with Elphaba—

Doing Elphaba’s unique dance moves.

Everyone else then dances, too,

And somehow, the angst and loathing between Galinda and Elphaba begins to disappear.

It’s a beautiful moment.

And it makes me cry (possibly every time).

 

Seeing past differences is a beautiful thing.

Grace is a beautiful thing.

Reconciliation is a beautiful thing.

Friendship is a beautiful thing.

 

Being good isn’t about being superficially perfect,

Rather it’s about seeing others for who they are and encouraging the best in them.

 

May we be good and hold to beautiful things,

And may we have the courage to suck up our pride and

Ask for forgiveness—

Whether it be through words or actions—

When we realize we’re wrong.

 

Amen.

 

PS. I took Amelia The Niece to see Wicked for the first time last Wednesday night. She said, “I really enjoyed it and everyone was very talented.” When asked her take away from the show, she said, “That it’s important to stand up for what’s right even if it makes you look bad to others.” What about you? For those who have seen the show, what was your take away? I’d love to hear.  

It's Quiet Uptown

Despite rave reviews from friends and critics alike, I did not listen to the soundtrack from Hamilton until this year. Since listening to it, though, a day hasn’t passed that I haven’t listened to one of its most powerful songs, “It’s Quiet Uptown.” Truth be known, “It’s Quiet Uptown” is one of the most powerful songs I’ve ever heard.

I won’t attempt to explain the storyline of Hamilton or the events that lead up to the song’s presence, but I will say this: a really bad decision has been made, a heart has been betrayed, and tragedy has occurred when the song emerges from a solo voice backed by the choir and accompanied by the piano.

The first time I heard the song, I wept, and I have teared up many times since that first hearing. The whole thing is just so beautifully raw and redemptive…

…which I suppose is why it’s the first song that entered my head yesterday, on Easter Sunday.

At first, I thought it strange that this song from Hamilton was the song in my head on the highest and holiest day of the Christian year. But then I thought about it and I realized that the song embodies what Easter is all about: forgiveness, redemption, humility, hope, reconciliation, faith, and resurrection—maybe not of the body (in this instance) but of lost love, relationship, reputation, and purpose.

Yesterday after church, I wrote:

Today is
Redemption
Righteousness
Resurrection
Reconciliation
Forgiveness
Hope
Peace and
Freedom
from
death,
sin,
condemnation,
and fear.
Today is the
Kingdom of God,
The Love of God,
Right here,
Right now,
Always.

The Kingdom of God is here, friends, and we can find it wherever we look, in whatever time and space we find ourselves—including in a car while listening to a musical that we’ve put off hearing for years.

How are you experiencing Kingdom of God? When and where are you finding hope, redemption, resurrection, and reconciliation?

------

There are moments that the words don’t reach
There is suffering too terrible to name
You hold your child as tight as you can
And push away the unimaginable
The moments when you’re in so deep
It feels easier to just swim down

The Hamiltons move uptown
And learn to live with the unimaginable

I spend hours in the garden
I walk alone to the store
And it’s quiet uptown
I never liked the quiet before
I take the children to church on Sunday
A sign of the cross at the door
And I pray
That never used to happen before

If you see him in the street, walking by
Himself, talking to himself, have pity

Philip, you would like it uptown
It’s quiet uptown

He is working through the unimaginable

His hair has gone grey. He passes every day
They say he walks the length of the city

You knock me out, I fall apart

Can you imagine?

Look at where we are
Look at where we started
I know I don’t deserve you, Eliza
But hear me out. That would be enough

If I could spare his life
If I could trade his life for mine
He’d be standing here right now
And you would smile, and that would be enough
I don’t pretend to know
The challenges we’re facing
I know there’s no replacing what we’ve lost
And you need time
But I’m not afraid
I know who I married
Just let me stay here by your side
That would be enough

If you see him in the street, walking by her
Side, talking by her side, have pity

Eliza, do you like it uptown? It’s quiet uptown

He is trying to do the unimaginable
See them walking in the park, long after dark
Taking in the sights of the city

Look around, look around, Eliza

They are trying to do the unimaginable

There are moments that the words don’t reach
There is a grace too powerful to name
We push away what we can never understand
We push away the unimaginable
They are standing in the garden
Alexander by Eliza’s side
She takes his hand

It’s quiet uptown

Forgiveness. Can you imagine?
Forgiveness. Can you imagine?
If you see him in the street, walking by her
Side, talking by her side, have pity
They are going through the unimaginable

Who Cares?

If you were at Antioch yesterday morning, then you heard a somewhat diverse set of music. We started with a modern praise song, led by the praise team, and then we went directly into a congregational rendition of “Victory in Jesus.” Next we moved to another congregational favorite of “Just A Closer Walk With Thee,” followed by a very unique, somewhat high church, full of intricate, sometimes dissonant harmonies, choral arrangement of “Abide With Me.” We ended with one verse of “Blest Be The Tie.”

While I was very pleased with the choir’s rendition of “Abide With Me”—it was tough and we had worked really hard to prepare it for worship—and while I always enjoy singing “Victory In Jesus”—after all, it was one of the title songs of my former band—and while the girls of the praise team did a good job introducing a new song—what really hit me yesterday was “Just A Closer Walk With Thee.”

As I was standing in the pulpit singing, I suddenly caught myself smiling and thinking, “Yes!! This!! I hope everyone in the congregation and the world is listening!! This is so important!! Did you hear it, people?! You just sang something HUGE!!”

And what was it that evoked double exclamation marks after every thought?

“Through this world of toil and snares,
If I falter, Lord, who cares?
Who with me my burden shares?
None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee.”

Did you catch that?! Really catch that?!

The world is full of toil and snares, speed-bumps and potholes, obstacles and heartaches, failures and heartbreaks, injustice and bigotry, judgment and condemnation, mean people and meaner people, and all kinds of other mayhem that will trip us up. With every feeling of safety. With every risk we take. With any attempt at anything at all, we run the risk of success or failure. And guess what? We’re going to mess up as many times as we get it right! We’re going to goof as many times as we reach near-perfection. We’re going to falter as many times as we experience clear-sailing! But…who cares?!

Really? Who cares?!

What does it matter?!

We’re still alive.
We’re still human.
We’re still able to move forward on life’s journey.

So who cares if we falter??
Really? Who cares?!

Because, in the end, the God who created us and loves us is the same God who never leaves or forsakes us—faltering or not. The same God who created the universe and offers redemption to the world is the same God who shares our heartaches and burdens—willingly surrendered or not.

I don’t know about you, friend, but this all makes me smile and sets a little part of me free.

When Broken

When Broken…11.21.16

An internal auditor came to speak to us during class tonight. In typical nerd fashion, I found her information quite fascinating, and I not only took a lot of notes but I also asked a lot of questions. I will spare everyone the details, but I must share this: If ever you see any part of the Fraud Triangle, then consider it a red flag. “And just what is the Fraud Triangle?” you ask. Well, here is your answer:

Point One: Pressure. Pressure can cause a person of integrity to commit fraud even though he/she ordinarily would not. Most people live their lives with good intentions but intense pressure can tempt us in ways we didn’t think possible. Medical bills, addiction, living beyond means, unexpected death. Any or all of those things can put undue pressure on a person and cause him/her to think, “If I can just pay of this bill—if I can just control this situation—if I can just take care of this—then I can rid of this pressure and then start over.”

Point Two: Rationalization. A person will only willingly work so hard before he/she feels that he/she deserves some type of validation or encouragement. When that validation or encouragement doesn’t come through healthy avenues, then sometimes we start to think thoughts like, “I don’t get paid enough for everything that I do, and it doesn’t look like I’m ever going to, so I might as well take what I deserve.”

Point Three: Opportunity. When there is a crack in the system—a loophole—an occasion for secrecy—a thought of, “Well, no one is watching…”—and pressure and/or rationalization are whispering in a person’s ear, sometimes temptation is too strong and a person gives into the opportunity to break the rules—whatever the rules may be.

People will do crazy things when they are broken.

All people. Not just those that we think of as “different” or “other” or “immoral” or “them.”

Under any circumstance. Not just shady situations.

No one is above pressure, rationalization, or opportunity.

No one is above just flat out messing up when we are broken.

So maybe we should stop judging so readily and start extending grace more freely.

And maybe we should start asking for and receiving help when we find ourselves gliding along the lines of a triangle like fraud.

Forgiveness Is A Tricky Thing

A friend mentioned Little Rock, Arkansas, in passing earlier today. Ever since she mentioned it, I’ve been singing the song Little Rock by Collin Raye.

Strangely enough, Little Rock is one of my favorite songs. It’s led by keys. It’s real. And raw. It’s the confession of a broken man longing to be whole again. It’s the heart of a guilty man longing to be free:

Well I know I've disappeared a time or two
And along the way I lost me and you
I needed a new town for my new start
Selling VCR's in Arkansas at a Wal-Mart
And I haven't had a drink in 19 days
My eyes are clear and bright without that haze
I like the preacher from the Church of Christ
Sorry that I cried when I talked to you last night
…
I don't know why I held it all inside
You must've thought I never even tried
You know your daddy told me when I left
"Jesus would forgive but a daddy don't forget"
…
Lying here upon this motel bed
My thoughts of you explode inside my head
And like a castle built upon the sand
I let love crumble in my hand
I think I'm on a roll here in Little Rock
I'm solid as a stone, baby, wait and see
I got just one small problem here in Little Rock
Without you, baby, I'm not me

No. I’ve never been married or struggled with alcoholism. I’ve never moved to Arkansas or worked at Wal-mart and I’ve never had anyone’s dad tell me that Jesus would forgive but a daddy don’t forget. But I have watched relationships and friendships crumble. And I have lay in bed with thoughts exploding in my head. And it’s so hard—knowing that something is broken—but being helpless to fix it—save for a humble, trying heart, and an honest, open spirit.

I don’t know if Little Rock tells a story that really happened or if it was written to be a good song. Either way, I find myself wondering: Did the person on the other end of last night’s crying forgive him?

Forgiveness is such a complicated thing. There is the person who has done wrong and the person who has been wronged. Sometimes the person who has done wrong doesn’t think that he/she has done wrong and sometimes the person who has been wronged thinks that he/she deserves the wrong. Sometimes the person who has done wrong doesn’t care to fix the wrong even if the person they have wronged is offering forgiveness. And sometimes offered forgiveness isn’t received for fear of strings attached—because sometimes strings are attached instead of flowing unconditionally.

For those of us who have grown up in church, we know that God offers unconditional love and grace—free, a gift, no strings attached. We also know that we should live as Jesus lived—with unconditional love and grace. Yet Jesus does something peculiar in John 5. The text reads:

Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?” “Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.”

Did you see that? Jesus asked the man if he wanted to get well. In other words, in order for the man truly to be healed, the man first had to want to be healed. It wasn’t enough for Jesus alone to want to do the healing.

The man in Little Rock wants to be healed. He is singing his desire for forgiveness from the core of his being. Does the partner in the song forgive him? We don’t know. But I dare say yes—because I want to believe that his partner’s offer of forgiveness met his openness of receiving forgiveness at exactly the right moment…and then that they kept working at it together.

Do you want to be healed?
The pool = living water = dive in?
Do it? Accept it?
Grace, forgiveness, love.
Is there.
Do you want to be healed?

Amen.