Charlie Brown tells Linus, "You see, Linus, we have two eyes, but one nose, so seeing is more important than smelling. Two ears, but one mouth, so hearing is more important than talking." Just then Snoopy runs by. "What does four legs mean?" asks Linus. "I guess that means that running is the most important of all!" replies Charlie Brown. I won't comment at this point on whether running is more important than seeing or hearing, but I would like to comment on Charlie Brown's notion that hearing is more important than talking, for it accords well with Second Isaiah's remarks regarding his own position as a teacher of the people. "The Lord has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens--wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught." To be a good teacher, the prophet says, one must be willing to be taught, and being taught requires listening. I've pointed out before that the slogan of Progressive Theology is "Exegete the world!" This slogan appears in the title bar of the PT home page, and it reflects my commitment to be sensitive to both current events and a holistic understanding of the world from a theological perspective. Whether I accomplish that goal is a matter for readers to determine, but more important than my own success or failure in that regard is my effectiveness in passing this approach to theology along to others. In seminary, I was taught how to exegete the Bible. We also learned about theology, church history, and other subjects in a typical seminary curriculum. What we didn't talk about was how to listen to what the world is telling us--through the news of the day, through scientific discoveries, through literature and art and political analysis and even comedy. We were taught to listen with only one ear, but God gave us a second ear, and I believe that God wants us to use it. We need to listen to the cries of the women who are being raped in Darfur. We need to listen to the cry of the homeless who inhabit the streets of every large city in the world, and many smaller cities and towns as well. We need to listen to the voices of children who are eager to learn but who do not have the resources at their disposal to get a good education. We need to listen to the struggles of the undocumented in the U.S. and elsewhere in the world who are seeking better lives for themselves and their families. We need to listen to the voices of both supporters of those in power and social critics who take issue with the policies of the powerful. We need to hear what scientists are telling us about the probable future of the planet, as well as about our probable history as a species. We only have two ears--we could use three or four! Yes, we should continue to learn from our predecessors in the faith, theologians, historians, and philosophers--I have a degree in history, and I continue to find historical lessons extremely important, as George Santayana reminded us--but we absolutely must learn from our contemporaries as well, both in academia and in other areas of life. Before we can be effective teachers, we must be effective learners. May God grant us ears to hear!
Psalm 116 is a psalm of thanksgiving. It was used in services in which the worshiper had previously asked God for deliverance from a particular problem, perhaps illness or a dispute with an adversary, and God had answered the worshiper's prayer. The supplicant now comes before God again in joy rather than concern and offers an offering of thanksgiving to God, along with the psalm itself. Walter Bruegemann describes a psalm like this as a psalm of new orientation. It reflects the situation of an individual who has known the anguish of suffering and has wondered whether God would come through in a time of need. After a period of anticipation, the worshiper has seen God answer her prayer, and her joy is restored. "I walk before the Lord in the land of the living," the worshiper proclaims. Two friends from church died in the past week, both victims of long, painful struggles with cancer. In fact, both had survived earlier bouts with the disease. Both left behind spouses and children of college age or younger. Their families had strong support from their families, friends, and church through their separate but similar crises of health. Both spouses experienced joy at the news of apparent retreat of the disease in their loved one, and both knew the heartache of a bad prognosis. Both spouses are facing their loss with a strong faith in God. How they will ultimately deal with their losses remains to be seen, but knowing both of them as I do, I predict that though they may suffer from periods of doubt or even despair, their faith will ultimately be stronger for their experience. Like the psalmist, they know what it means to suffer the anguish of not knowing whether God would respond to their prayer. Unlike the psalmist, perhaps, the answer they got from God was not the answer they wanted. Nevertheless, they have kept their faith through this, the worst crisis they have ever faced. They have said goodbye to their spouses, and now they walk before the Lord in the land of the living. But they don't walk alone. They have friends to support them, family to sustain them, and a church that loves them and will continue to love them. It's not always easy to walk before the Lord, even when God answers our prayers in ways that make us happy, much less when God answers our prayers in ways that are contrary to our deepest desires. Nevertheless, we walk with God, and God walks with us, on our journey through life. Family and friends are a blessing, but our greatest blessing is God's powerful presence with us in times of need.
All I ever wanted to do was teach, at least since the time I went to seminary. However, denominational politics decreed that my voice was not welcome under the new regime, so I languished for many years in other jobs. It's not that I didn't enjoy those other jobs. On the contrary, they were some of the most important learning experiences of my life, and I learned skills and met people who will continue to be a blessing to me and my ministry for as long as I live. Nevertheless, knowing that you have a calling to teach and not being able to exercise your gifts and use your training on a regular basis can be frustrating. For thirteen long years I labored away at jobs that were interesting and rewarding in many ways, yet they did not give me the fulfillment that being in the classroom did. I took advantage of every adjunct teaching opportunity I had, and over the years I taught about twenty-five courses. When I was finally elected to the faculty as a full-time assistant professor, it was one of the happiest moments of my life. Still, as I look back over my career--or better, my careers--I realize that God had a plan for me all along. "Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness." This admonition from James both haunts me and challenges me. I realize now that had I gone immediately into teaching upon graduation from seminary, I would not have been fully prepared for the challenge. I knew the academic side of teaching--that was never a problem--and I was comfortable in the classroom. However, I had very limited experience with religious and theological life beyond my own denomination, and although I had had tremendous cross-cultural and multilingual experiences, I had not yet processed all I had learned and integrated it into my own personal approach to life. It's not that I don't believe I could have been a good teacher straight out of seminary. I believe I could have been. However, the opportunities I had for personal growth, as well as personal experiences that were at times profoundly difficult, rewarding, or inspiring, have made me a better teacher than I would have been without them, in my opinion. I take up the mantle of teacher, both in the classroom and to a broader audience in Progressive Theology, with a great deal of trepidation. What if what I teach is wrong? What if my views have too much of my own biases and not enough of God's word? I understand why James said what he said regarding teachers. Yet James was up to the challenge, and I am as well. I recognize my limitations, and I readily acknowledge that, as James says, "all of us make many mistakes." I wish I could take back the words I said to a particular student, or the explanation I gave in a lecture one day, or the opinions I expressed perhaps too vociferously. Nevertheless, as that great philosopher Popeye once said, "I am what I am, and that's all that I am." At the end of the day, if I am to be judged by my words, let my words be strong, forceful, and passionate. Let me make mistakes in my teaching, but let them be honest mistakes, growing out of a commitment to the truth and a love for the poor and the outcast, rather than mistakes that come from being too mealy-mouthed and timid to speak out on controversial subjects. Paul was accused of being weak and timid in person but of writing with strength and profundity (2 Corinthians 10:10). In some ways I'm like that as well. It's often easier for me to write forcefully than to speak forcefully, probably because I always want to be deferential and respectful to the opinions of those to whom I'm speaking. Nevertheless, it's my goal to become the best teacher I can be, not because I think my words and opinions are any more profound than the next person's, but because God has given me the opportunity to teach, both online and in the classroom, and I don't want to waste it. With due deference to James, for good or ill, I take up the mantle of teacher. As Luther said, "Hier stehe ich, ich kann nicht anders": "Here I stand, I can do no other."
The Gospel of Mark is sometimes described as somewhat rough in its treatment of the twelve disciples, and today's reading supports that characterization. After retiring with his disciples to Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asks them who the multitudes think he is. After allowing them to answer the question, he then asks, "And who do you think I am?" Peter answers, "You are the Messiah" (the more expanded versions of Matthew and Luke reflect developments of the tradition). So far so good, but when Jesus begins describing the indignities that the Messiah was destined to suffer, it was more than Peter could stand. "No way, Lord," he said. "These things could never happen to you! You must have misunderstood the divine command." Jesus' public rebuke of Peter reflects the importance that Jesus attributed to his disciples' understanding of what he had to do. "That's not my idea of how God should do things" is a sentiment that we all express from time to time. "If I were God, I would do things differently," we tell ourselves, and perhaps others as well. Why Jesus responds as forcefully to Peter as he does is somewhat mysterious, but perhaps he felt that Peter's idea of Jesus' messiahship was an idea he would like to endorse as well, temptation to avoid the cross altogether. No, Jesus said, I can't avoid the cross. Moreover, those who follow me cannot avoid the cross, either. "If any want to become my disciples, let them deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow me." The idea of following Jesus into martyrdom may seem exciting in the abstract, but it is terrifying in the concrete. Why would anyone willingly seek martyrdom? The answer is that followers of Jesus do not seek martyrdom or persecution, but they are aware of the possibility when they proclaim the message of Jesus. The message of Jesus is radical. It goes against the grain of society, very often even against the grain of a society that is heavily influenced by Christianity. The problem is that people today, like people in generations past, want to mix the things they like about Christianity with their own political or socio-economic views, which tend to water down the message of Jesus. No, says Jesus, if you want to be my disciples, you'll need to deny yourselves, take up your cross, and follow me. Discipleship requires three things. First, we must deny ourselves. Our lives are not our own. We are not promoting our own agenda, but Jesus'. Second, we must take up our cross. The life of discipleship requires self-sacrifice. We might not be able to make the kind of money that others around us make. We might not achieve the fame that we would like. We might not even be able to accomplish all of the goals we would like to accomplish, because our commitment is to accomplish Jesus' goals. Third, we must follow Jesus. We can't follow Jesus unless we know a lot about the life of Jesus, and comes only through diligent study. It also requires a sensitivity to the world around us that is impossible to develop if we give in to the siren song of Western culture, which offers us money, happiness, and emotional fulfillment. Peter missed the boat when he attempted to change Jesus' mind concerning his destiny, but we know that he made a full recovery. Peter's commitment to follow Jesus was stronger as a result of Jesus' correction of him at Caesarea Philippi. Similarly, we need to accept the rebuke of Jesus when we need it, as we often do, so that we might put ourselves again on the right path toward Christian maturity and service, the path along which we carry our cross in imitation of Jesus.