“Remember You Are Dust”

Growing up as a Baptist, I didn’t hear much about Ash Wednesday or Lent. In my years in the States before going to Japan, including the nine years I was a Baptist pastor, I don’t recall hearing or making any mention of them as a part of worship or Christian practice.

For several years, however, I have observed Lent to a certain extent and have attended a few Ash Wednesday services, which concluded with a cross being made on my forehead with ashes.

For some reason, until last year I had never paid much attention to the words that were spoken then. Perhaps different words were used in the previous services I had attended, but last year the minister said, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

I was moved to think about my own mortality by those simple words, maybe more than ever before. Of course, I had never been 75 years old before. Those of us who are 75 or older surely need to think about our mortality, for most of us have only a few years left on this earth.

But even for you who are much younger, the end of your time on this earth is coming, too.

Dr. Wayne Oates, my pastoral counseling professor whom I wrote about last October, was talking in class one day about visiting people who were terminally ill. He mentioned that it is common to say about such people, “Well, it is just a matter of time now.”

Dr. Oates then looked intently at us students and said something like this: “But never forget: that is true for all of us. Some have more time left than others, but it is just a matter of time for everyone.”

People do all sorts of things to keep from thinking about the fact that someday they are going to die—and certainly it is morbid to think about one’s mortality too much. But, regrettably, many people don’t want to think about it at all. 

Last week I read the following words in a Facebook posting by Carol, a woman about my same age who now lives in my hometown:

Someone added beneath those words, “Slow down. Enjoy the day. Live in the moment. It all goes so fast.” And Carol made this brief comment: “So true.” I agree—and would also add, “But don’t forget to prepare for the end.”

One of my favorite people is Dr. Tony Campolo, professor emeritus in sociology at Eastern University in Pennsylvania. As many of you know, he is also an ordained Baptist minister, a popular speaker and a prolific author—and next Wednesday, Feb. 25, is his 80^th birthday.

One year on Good Friday, Dr. Campolo heard a fellow minister preach a sermon regularly repeating the phrase, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’.” Campolo later wrote a book published (in 1984) under that title.

So today is Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, that 40-day period of reflection and preparation for the celebration of Easter, which will be on April 5 this year. This evening I have the privilege of leading the Ash Wednesday service at the Rosedale Congregational Church in Kansas City, Kansas, where I am serving as interim pastor this month.

When making a cross with ashes on the foreheads of those who come for that purpose, I am going to add to the traditional words. I plan to say to each one “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return—to wait for your glorious resurrection.”

It’s Ash Wednesday, but Easter’s coming!  

"Nie wieder Krieg!"

February 13 was a special day when I was growing up, for it was my mother’s birthday. I wrote about that last year at this time, for it was the 100^th anniversary of her birth. She was born on Friday the 13^th and this year the 13^th (today) fell on Friday again.

Little did I know as a boy that February 13 was also the beginning of one of the great tragedies in modern history. It wasn’t a Friday, but February 13, 1945, was an incredibly “unlucky” day for the people of Dresden, Germany. The firebombing of Dresden began on that day 70 years ago.

That catastrophe has been called “the worst war crime of WWII,” even worse than the atomic devastation of Hiroshima or Nagasaki. While that is a very questionable claim, there is no doubt that the bombing of Dresden was a terribly tragic event.

In the 1950s I learned at least something of the horrors of the bombings in Japan, long before I went to Japan to live and work—and to visit the sites of those bombings. But it was not until the early 1970s when I first became aware of the horrible devastation of Dresden.

My introduction to the bombing of Dresden came via the book “Slaughterhouse-Five” (1969) by Kurt Vonnegut, who was actually a prisoner of war in Dresden at the time. He survived the firebombing by being held in Schlachthof Fünf (Slaughterhouse 5).

Vonnegut’s book is a satirical novel about the experiences of a soldier named Billy Pilgrim, who experienced, and survived, the firebombing of Dresden. But it is clearly semi-autobiographical, for Vonnegut was there as a 22-year-old U.S. army private who had been a POW since December 1944.

I was much impressed by Vonnegut’s book, in spite of (or because of?) all its eccentricities. Later when composing a list of my “top ten” novels, “Slaughterhouse-Five” made that list.

Last fall after reading it again, I made this notation: “Very much enjoyed reading this book again; it was as engaging as I had remembered from the first time & still on my top ten.” That is largely because in its own surreal way, Vonnegut’s masterful book carries a powerful anti-war message.

But Vonnegut’s work is a work of fiction and perhaps includes, and has led to, some exaggerations, both as regards the total number of causalities and the sinister motives behind the bombing.

Recent books, such as “Dresden: Tuesday, February 13, 1945” (2004) by British historian Frederick Taylor, give more historically accurate information.

In the concluding paragraph of the preface of his tome of more than 500 pages, Taylor writes,

Perhaps if there is a moral conclusion it can only be found in the German phrase that I heard again and again from the lips of Dresdeners, spoken with a passion born of terrible experience: Nie wieder Krieg. Never again war. With the terrible weapons of mass destruction at its disposal, humanity can no longer afford intolerance and war, and that is the ultimate lesson of the bombing of Dresden.

I think Vonnegut, who died in 2007, would have agreed with Taylor’s powerful statement.

But now with the ruthlessness and barbarity of the self-proclaimed Islamic State (also referred to as ISIS or ISIL), which is neither truly Islamic nor a real state, there seems to be growing clamor for the U.S. to use greater military force to crush that evil terrorist organization.

But is that wise? And might that possibly lead to another Dresden, or even to another Hiroshima?

Nie wieder Krieg! That is my deep hope and fervent prayer.

Using Gender-Neutral Language for God

This month I am preaching each Sunday at the Rosedale Congregational United Church of Christ. The title of my sermon yesterday was “Good News of the Kingdom,” from Mark 1:15.

Updated terminology. In the first part of the sermon I had to take time to talk about terminology. The UCC does not usually refer to God with gender-specific words: as a rule, they do not call God “Father” or use masculine nouns in referring to God. I don’t have any trouble with that, for I adopted that same general approach years ago.

In addition, the UCC doesn’t like to talk about the Kingdom of God—for that implies there is a king, and we all know that kings are male. So the preferred term is “realm of God.” A section in “The New Century Hymnal,” the UCC hymn book published in 1995, is titled “Realm of God.”

While I see the point in that new wording and appreciate the consistency of it, I have had some trouble making that shift in terminology. Maybe “kingdom” doesn’t always mean there is a male monarch—it certainly doesn’t for the United Kingdom where Queen Elizabeth has been the monarch for more than 60 years.

Updated hymn. For the service yesterday, I chose the closing hymn from the “Peace and Justice” section. The title is “Lead On Eternal Sovereign,” and the words are attributed to Ernest Shurtleff. But the hymn that he wrote to be sung at the graduation service of Andover Seminary in 1888 began, “Lead on, O King eternal.”

Even though Shurtleff’s name appears at the bottom of the page, there are few words that are the same as those he wrote. Not only is gender specific language not used, military images have also been changed—for which I am grateful. The result is a fine hymn, but it is not really the same as what the author wrote.

Here are the words of the third verse to the updated hymn:

Lead on eternal Sovereign, till sin’s fierce war shall cease

    and all your saints together will sing a hymn of peace;

Then all in your dominion will live with hearts set free,

    to love and serve each other for all eternity.

Updated Lord’s Prayer. There are three versions of the Lord’s Prayer in the UCC hymnal. I was surprised to see that all three begin, “Our Father,” and all three use the word “kingdom.” So to be consistent, I thought there ought to be an alternative version without gender-specific language.

My Google search failed to find anything suitable, so I decided to write a paraphrased version myself. Here is what I came up with:

Creator God, Redeemer and Sustainer of all that is,

May your Reality be honored by us and by all creation.

May your will be done on earth as it is in your Eternal Realm.

Give us the food we need for our sustenance today.

Forgive our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from times of trial and deliver us from evil.

For the glory and power of the Eternal Realm is yours forever.

Amen.

So, what do you think? Is it necessary to use gender-neutral language for God and for “his kingdom” as well as for the Lord’s Prayer? And if that is desirable for the latter, is the version I came up with satisfactory, or are there places that need to be changed and improved?

Can the Church Ever be United?

Last Sunday I had the opportunity to preach at the Rosedale Congregational United Church of Christ (RCC) in Kansas City, Kansas. As RCC is currently without a pastor, I was asked to preach each Sunday this month, and I much appreciate their invitation. (It will be the first time for me to preach at the same church four Sundays in a row in 50 years.)

As you may know, the United Church of Christ (UCC) was formed in 1957. It was the result of a merger of the Evangelical and Reformed Church and the General Council of the Congregational Christian Churches. RCC was formerly a part of the latter.

The vision of the UCC is a great one—but one that is unlikely to be actualized anytime soon. Of course, this is not the first time an effort has been made to unite the Church, doing away with denominations.

In the 1830s the vision of Thomas Campbell, along with his son Alexander and others, led to the formation of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). But now that Church, as well as the UCC, is just another denomination.

The history of Christianity is a history replete with divisions, great and small. The first major division occurred in 1054 when the Eastern Church, centered in Constantinople, separated from the western Church, centered in Rome.

The second great division took place with the Protestant reformations in the 16^th century—and then very soon there were divisions among the Protestants. In January 1527 Felix Manz, whom I wrote about here, was martyred in Zurich, the first Protestant to be punitively killed by Protestants.

Since the beginning of the 20^th century there have been attempts toward great unity among Christians. The 1910 World Missionary Conference, held in Edinburgh, was an important step in that direction.

Then after the disastrous divisions caused by two world wars, the World Council of Churches (WCC) was formed in 1948. And that ecumenical body, composed of Protestants only, has in recent years reached out to greater cooperation with the Catholic and Orthodox churches.

But, alas, the WCC has been largely rejected and is often criticized by conservative Protestants. The Southern Baptist Convention, the largest Protestant denomination in the U.S., has through the years remained aloof from the WCC.

Conservative Protestants formed the World Evangelical Fellowship in 1951, changing their name to the World Evangelical Alliance (WEA) in 2001. While recently there has been some fruitful interaction between the WCC and the WEA, greater unity is highly unlikely.

The disunity of these two Protestant groups is largely between fundamentalist/conservative understandings of Christianity and moderate/liberal understandings, which differ seriously—and maybe irreconcilably.

Recently, referring to J. Greshem Machen who made a similar assertion in his book Christianity and Liberalism (1923), Al Mohler, president of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary president, said, “Rather than representing two points on a spectrum of Christianity, evangelical Christianity and liberal Protestantism are different and competing religions” (see this article by Bob Allen).

As much as I hate to say so, I’m afraid he’s right.

While I hope and pray for Christians to move from the extremes (and errors) of both fundamentalism and liberalism and to the “radiant center,” as I propose in my book “The Limits of Liberalism,” I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

While in the years ahead there may be greater unity among conservative Christians and especially greater unity of moderate/liberal Christians, I think, sadly, there will be little movement toward or formation of a truly united Church of Christ.