Theology

I began wrestling with this question last week Sunday when I read about two Christian families from Syria who, after fourteen years of working to attain permission to come to America, were told upon arriving at the airport that they either needed to leave the country or lose their visas. As CNN reported that morning:

I know that my heart is not the only heavy one out there. In the last couple weeks there have been unjust and violent events, and I find myself reeling emotionally, mentally and spiritually. Presidential executive orders which do not jive with our lived out faith to love immigrants and refugees (Leviticus 19:34). A terrorist attack on Muslim worshippers at a mosque in Quebec City. I have been navigating social media, news articles, and political statements all while simultaneously fact-checking and processing through the lens of my own Christian faith.

Remember the Justice and Faith Project? Surveyors called people and organized conversations in CRC congregations across Canada to learn what justice means to Canadian CRC folk and what they’d like to do about it. We learned *a lot* together (find the results here). One of the key findings was that more than 85% of Canadian CRC members believe that doing justice is an essential part of Christian faith. Wow.

Welcome to Ordinary Time! Ordinary Time is that vast stretch of the church year between January 6 (Epiphany) and Lent (and also between Pentecost and Advent). The name of the season is, admittedly, not terribly inspiring, but it expresses an important truth--much of our lives can feel ordinary and routine, and yet these are the lives that God calls us to offer to him as living sacrifices. As Romans 12:1 reads:

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim freedom for captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God.” Isaiah 61:1-2

We are in the season of Advent. As a pastor preached this Sunday, the liturgical church year does not begin with triumph or with victory, but with, of all things—waiting.

We turn back to the beginning of our devotionals ordered by church year; we hear Scriptures read of prophets forthtelling and foretelling of the coming one, the shoot to grow from the stump of Jesse’s tree, the one who will make all things new—and we wait.

I’ve had a difficult month. I lost my apartment in a fire and it has been tough. Tough to think about anything else. Tough to start again, again.

But there has been this amazing group of people who have held me up. They have held me when I felt like I was losing my feet. Like a cartoon character fall, feet flailing. But not falling. Thank God. Just losing my feet for a bit. Because my arms are held tightly, I’m not going down. And I’m thankful.

We’ve made it through an election cycle, one that has stoked old divisions and fears, and caused uncertainty for Americans and Canadians alike. As we move forward, it is worth remembering that much of the real work of citizenship—in whatever country you call home, and (more importantly) in God’s here-and-coming kingdom—begins at our tables.

When you throw verses at someone and tell them that their role in the church is not ‘true to scripture,’ what you are saying is, “Nope, God is not calling you to do what you think you are being called to do or be who you think God is calling you to be.” Scripture should be our guide. Absolutely. As you are guided by Scripture, be aware that the “cost” of a certain interpretation of Scripture may be much higher for someone else than it is for you.

My hope is that your congregations are not just buildings that just happen to be there, but churches that seek the flourishing of your neighborhoods and the neighbors that call it home.