“...if
Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain
and your
faith has been in vain.” (1 Corinthians 15:14)
Dear
Saints,
In my reading this winter, I came across an
unforgettable quote (at least for me), from an address given almost 70 years
ago before an international conference, by a missionary named Hendrik
Kraemer. He said, “The Church is always
in a state of crisis; and its greatest shortcoming is that it is only
occasionally aware of it.”
For a brief while, as a new
Christian, I looked for a church where everything was settled. A church where I could go to escape from all
controversy and crises, and be sure crises and controversy would never follow
me there. At that time the hot button
issues were the ordination of women, and Prayer Book revision. I wasn’t all that sure where I stood on the
issues. I knew it pained me to see
Christian people I loved, on both sides, in passionate disagreement with each
other, even to the point of breaking fellowship from each other.
“The Word became flesh and lived
among us.” (John 1:14) Once in human history, in a particular time,
place, and culture, Jesus entered our world.
Jesus meets us where we are; but where we are is not the whole story of
where the Lord wants us to be. It is
the starting point of our pilgrimage with him.
“Our mission is to be modeled on
his. …It means entering other people’s
worlds.” There is no such thing as the
Gospel of Jesus Christ without a cultural “packaging, ” a bridge leading into
the life that people actually live. But
the Gospel won’t be limited or defined by that packaging.
The Gospel honors, without
favoritism, the great variety of human cultures, and communicates through
them. It transcends cultures, and
unites people of all cultures, drawing them into a distinct culture worthy of a
new “…chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people.” (1 Peter 4:9) Living in relationship with our original human culture,
negotiating with culture and cultural change– while maturing as citizens of the
kingdom of heaven and being conformed to Christ’s glory (Philippians 3:20-21)–
means that, in our lives on earth, we will always be “in crisis.”
Crisis is what we can expect
when we enter into relationship not just with Jesus, but with the other
redeemed sinners whom Jesus has called and chosen. Crisis is what we can expect when we enlarge the Church’s
boundaries to include people who haven’t been socialized into our culture. Crisis is what we can expect when we aspire
to a fuller surrender to the Lord.
The Church’s calendar (kalendar), and the annual return of Lent and Easter, force us to acknowledge the tension of living between cultures (the “crisis”).
Jesus never commanded Christians
to celebrate his Resurrection on the Sunday after the first full moon after the
vernal equinox (see page 880 of the Book of Common Prayer). It wasn’t Jesus’ idea to name the day
“Eostre,” after the Mother Goddess of the ancient pagan religion of the
Saxons. Jesus didn’t make a rule that
for 7 weeks before Easter, we should go without chocolates or booze, or else
feel guilty about enjoying them.
Jesus didn’t inaugurate these
customs. Early on, his Jewish followers
understood his death and Resurrection to be the ultimate fulfillment of their
Passover. “The first Christians
observed with great devotion the days of our Lord’s passion and
resurrection...” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 264), making its celebration the
high point of the year. Baptisms at
Easter announced the promise of new life through faith in the Risen Lord, and
…it became the custom of the
Church to prepare for [Good Friday and Easter] by a season of penitence and
fasting. This season of Lent provided a time in which converts to the faith
were prepared for Holy Baptism. It was also a time when those who, because of
notorious sins, had been separated from the body of the faithful were
reconciled by penitence and forgiveness, and restored to the fellowship of the
Church. (Book of Common Prayer, p.
264)
Our Christian calendar, our
seasons of Lent and Easter– like our strange vocabulary, and our worship
aerobics (sit, stand, kneel)– are not meant to complicate our lives, or lay
more burdens on our backs, or turn us into a cult. They remind us that as citizens of a holy nation, we mark the passage of time differently. They remind us that, even though God is
never absent from us, we need preparation in order to cross over from where we
are, to a position where he can break, melt, mold, shape, and use us.
We need a season to clear the
decks, to silence the shrill voices of our culture– to give our old, familiar
traditions a chance to speak to us afresh.
We need our imaginations healed and remade, so that we can see the
Lord’s movement and direction in the midst of crisis. We need evangelization in those compartments of our lives that we
still keep walled off from the Lord’s rightful authority. We need to reclaim the new identity given us
at our Baptism, and in the purposes for which the Lord created the Church and
called us into it. We need to awaken to
the reality that, for the Christian and for the Church, crisis inherently comes
with the territory.
Faithfully,
Chuck Bradshaw +