Last Sunday afternoon, I attended the NSU Singers’ performance of “A Concert of Lessons and Carols.” If you were unable to make it to this concert, you really missed out on a treat. In my opinion, this was the best selection of choral music for the program since I began my ministry here in Tahlequah five concerts ago in 2005. It was a truly impressive performance!

However, I was equally struck by the “lessons” portion of the program. This collection of nine scripture selections provides the framework in which the carols are performed. With readings from Genesis to Isaiah to the Gospels, these lessons reflect the classical doctrine of the developing Christian faith: the fall of Adam, Original Sin, and redemption through Christ, the New Adam. Keep in mind, both this theology and the lessons framework likely come from medieval times and don’t really reflect the 200-year old theological tradition of the Disciples. However, I often find it quite amazing how much power these older doctrines hold in determining how we think today.

Stating that, it’s a real source of frustration for me. Part of the problem with the “original sin” tradition is the violence within that theology. Human free will leads to disobedience, which invites Divine violence – the curse, expulsion from the garden, the end of a supposedly “carefree” life. Then, the solution to the problem of the fall into sin is the violent execution of the one whom we worship every Sunday morning. (Did you see “Passion of the Christ”? A very violent rendition of the cross.)

So I’m left to ask – what of the Jesus who spoke of peace? What of the Jesus who never acted in violence during his lifetime? (Ok, so there’s the temple story in John 2:13-22 where he does have a whip of many cords.) What of the Jesus who opposed a system that perpetuated violence? Our theologies (mine included) often have many instances of “violent love” bound into them in order to make meaning in our lives. I wonder what it would take to replace all of those instances with a more “peaceful love.”

I admit that I don’t necessarily have an answer to this question, but I’m joyful and grateful to be a part of a church community where people take their faith journeys seriously through careful and prayerful study and fellowship. Even though I may not have the answers, I look forward to working them out in community with you as we journey together.

Seeking to live out the peace of Jesus,

Clint

If this title sent a shiver down your spine, then you’re exactly the person I’m trying to reach. This will be the underlying theme of my Advent sermons this year, and it’s long past time we took a moment to debunk this idea that our faith isn’t political.

Last Sunday’s sermon focused on Mark’s introduction of Jesus – his baptism in the Jordan by John the baptizer. In just these three short verses (1:9-11), Mark introduced two very different political ideas: those of Jesus and those of John. One of the scholarly theories on John the baptizer goes like this: if he could get enough people to come and be baptized and repent of their sins, then God would send the messiah. Of course, this messiah would be the expected military conqueror and king who would liberate Israel from its Roman overlords and reestablish the Davidic monarchy.

If that image of the messiah sounds familiar, it might be because that’s exactly what some of Jesus’ followers expected him to be – a conquering hero. However, you might also recall that Jesus explicitly rejected this understanding of his ministry every time. Time and again we see Jesus crossing the lines that were drawn between winners and losers, between the wealthy and the poor, between the healthy and the leper, between the righteous and the tax collector. He made a point of rejecting the zero-sum game mentality that plagued both his opponents and his supporters alike.

According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, politics may be defined as “competition between… groups or individuals for power.” However, it also offers an alternative definition: the “relations between people living in a society.” As I read these two definitions, I heard the difference between Jesus’ messiah and John’s messiah. John’s messianic hope was simply to shift the power from one group to another, from one king to the next. But Jesus’ vision was about sharing power through equalizing relationships between people. This isn’t just politics by definition – this is politics that matter.

The gospel of Jesus the Christ is political. The gospel accounts of Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John are political. Last Sunday we talked about Mark’s politics of hope. This Sunday we’ll hear about Matthew’s politics of peace. I hope you will join us as we continue our observance of Advent.

Seeking to live out the politics of Jesus,

Clint