Jesus said, "If I be lifted up, I will draw everyone to me." Many Christians, however, just aren't comfortable with the idea of God accepting "everyone" into the family. The Jewish Christians in the first century were reluctant to accept the Gentiles. The "orthodox" Christians (orthodoxy, of course, being a developing concept) in the early church rejected first the Marcionites and Montanists, then the Donatists, Arians, adoptionists, Monophysites, and Nestorians, among many others. In the Middle Ages Roman Catholics rejected the Eastern Orthodox, and vice versa. The Catholics rejected Protestants, then in places where Protestants predominated, they taught their followers that Catholics weren't even Christians. Today while some Protestant groups are seeking common ground--for example, the Lutherans and Episcopalians, or the United Church of Christ, Alliance of Baptists, and Congregationalists--other Protestants continue to separate themselves from their fellow believers on grounds of doctrine, practice, ethnicity, and even politics. If we learn anything from the story of Peter's visit to Cornelius' house, it should be that God is the one who decides who to accept, and God is much more open-minded than we are. When Peter's associates saw that God had indeed accepted the Gentiles, they were flabbergasted, but to their credit, they admitted their mistake: "Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?" What lines do we draw to separate ourselves from our fellow believers today that God wants us to erase? Do we continue to measure authentic Christianity on the basis of doctrine? Do we reject those whose understanding of the gifts of the Spirit differs from ours? Are we willing to accept as Christians those who have a different understanding of sexuality? If God accepts us sinners, who are we to reject others whom God has chosen?
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In response to the U.S. military's victory in Iraq, General Jay Garner said a few days ago, "We ought to be beating our chests every day. We ought to look in a mirror and get proud. We ought to stick out our chests and suck in our bellies and say, 'Damn, we're Americans!'" Many people no doubt interpret the U.S. and British victory over Iraq as a sign that God was on our side and gave us victory. The psalmist urges others to "sing unto the Lord a new song," and he says that God's "right hand and his holy arm have gotten him victory." Some would even go so far as to notice that in this psalm God has remembered his promises to the "house of Israel," equating the modern state of Israel with the biblical people, so that whatever that state does (and, of course, whatever the U.S. does) is almost by definition blessed by God. However, the last verse of the psalm should give all those who rejoice in military victories of the strong over the weak reason to pause: "God is coming to judge the earth. He will judge the world with righteousness, and the peoples with equity." God's judgment is based not on how strong a nation's military is but on how just it is toward the peoples of the earth. Equating earthly power with God's favor is as old as civilization itself, with rulers of cities proclaiming themselves chosen by their god. Although people are usually convinced of the rightness of their own actions, some leaders have been wise enough to know that might is no proof of right. If we join with the psalmist in singing to God a new song, it should be in response to advances in justice and peace around the world. These victories might not be as well-publicized, but they are ultimately more important than military conquest. God's kingdom is advanced by those who "do justice, and love mercy, and walk humbly with their God," not those who flex their military muscles in the face of an inferior fighting force.
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Shania Twain sings a song about men who think they're smart, or sexy, or rich, whose focus is on their external attributes. Her response to guys like this? "That don't impress me much." The theme of victory is taken up again in this passage from 1 John, but the context is completely different. Whereas Psalm 98 envisions God intervening from the outside to execute justice and vindicate his people, the present passage portrays individual Christians overcoming the world through the power of faith rather than arms. The late first-century congregation addressed by the author was not interested in a military victory over their enemies, because they had been taught to love their enemies. They were citizens of the greatest empire of their day, but they were not impressed with the fact that Rome was the most effective fighting force that had ever existed. Like the Roman legions, they sought victory in life, but instead of conquering their enemies, they wanted to show such love to everyone that their enemies would become their friends. They lived in uncertain times, and they had a radical concept. They honestly believed that if they followed the teachings of Christ to the letter they could make a difference in their world. The odds were against them. Christians were a small group of people whose membership was predominantly drawn from the lower classes. They faced opposition not with the sword but with faith. They responded to persecution by accepting imprisonment and even martyrdom. A CEO evaluating the early church's business plan would have said they had a losing strategy. Venture capitalists wouldn't have given them support. Bookies would have given them long odds. Their plan just didn't make any sense. How can you grow as a movement when your members are likely to face ridicule, opposition, and even death? Yet they did grow. It turned out that Jesus' call to love one another, and even to love one's enemies, was attractive to people. They flocked to Christianity because it offered them the chance to be part of something bigger than themselves. They were part of a community that was destined to make a difference in the world. There are Christians today who are still making a difference in their world, not by buying into the propaganda that wealth or power is equivalent to God's blessing, but by quietly loving their neighbors, praying for peace, and doing what they can to realize their vision of the kingdom of God in this world.
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While the U.S. and Britain were gearing up for war in Iraq, individual U.S. and British citizens, along with many from other countries, traveled to Baghdad, Basra, and elsewhere to serve as human shields to protect civilians. The theory was that the allied governments would do all they could to avoid civilian casualties if some of their own civilians were there. The International Solidarity Movement is another group of concerned people who have adopted the idea of making themselves human shields to try to ease the conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians. On March 16, an American college student, Rachel Corrie, a volunteer with ISM, was in Gaza trying to protect Palestinian civilians. Wearing a bright orange jacket that clearly marked her as a noncombatant, she stood in front of an Israeli bulldozer whose driver was intent on destroying Palestinian home and businesses. Something happened in the street--Israeli and Palestinian versions of the event vary--and Rachel was crushed to death under the bulldozer. Jesus said that the greatest love anyone can show another person is to lay down one's life on their behalf. Rachel didn't get up that morning intending to die, but she knew that injury or death were possible outcomes of the work she was involved in. She believed that she was helping to save the lives of innocent people, and she was willing to sacrifice her own life to do it. When I read about people like Rachel, I wonder, do I love other people enough to be willing to die for them? Do I believe in the teachings of Jesus enough to take a stand for peace and justice when so many around me seem to be calling for blood? Jessica Lynch has become a symbol of bravery as a result of her experiences in the war in Iraq, and rightly so. Rachel Corrie should be an even more striking symbol of courage to those of us who call ourselves followers of Christ, for she willingly followed Jesus in the path of martyrdom on behalf of those whom she loved.
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