Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Good Samaratins

Every time I think about being a follower of Jesus and my response to poverty my mind always comes to a teaching of Jesus. This story comes from the Gospel of Luke and at first glance it really has nothing to do with poverty. The scene looks something like this. Jesus is with his disciples and they are talking about anything and everything, probably how it always was when they hung out. Then a professional in understanding the Jewish faith stands up and asks Jesus what he needs to do to “inherit eternal life.” Jesus responds by asking him the same question. The man says that he must love God with his entire being and love his neighbor in the same way. Jesus pats him on the back and tells the man that he has it figured out. But then the guy asks one more question, the story tells us that he does it to justify himself, to make himself look good, to give himself another pat on the back. The man asks Jesus “who is my neighbor?” This is where Jesus tells a story and changes everything. The story he tells is what we call “The Good Samaritan” but it could have also been titled “The Loving Neighbor.” The story goes like this: a man is traveling along the road and he gets beaten, robbed and left for dead. This man is in a helpless state and requires the care of someone else or he will die. First a priest walks by and sees him but instead of helping the man as the Jewish law might prompt he crosses the road and passes by on the other side of the road. Next a Levite comes across the scene and sees the same man and like the priest he crosses the street and passes by on the other side of the road. Two people who serve in the Temple in Jerusalem, who not only know but have memorized the entirety of scripture. In other words they knew that their faith consisted of loving God and loving neighbor. Despite this knowledge both the Priest and the Levite cross the street and go by on the other side of the road. Jesus’ story ends with an unlikely character who knew little to nothing of Jewish law helping the man and providing for his care, restoration and healing. The whole story ends with Jesus telling the religious professional to do the same thing as the man who cared for the victim.

Okay but what’s this got to do with poverty? Let me tell a story.

I was at a conference in St. Louis a few years back. St. Louis, like many mid-western cities, suffers from the economic hardship brought about by the disappearance of manufacturing and industrial jobs in the United States. As a result there is an enormous amount of poverty and a great deal of homelessness. I was visiting the city, staying in a nice hotel and attending a Christian conference. One morning I was walking from the conference center to my hotel room to take a break. As I was walking I was charging ahead in the cold and trying to get to my room without being hassled by anyone for anything. As I looked up the street I saw a man, who according to my two second judgment was homeless. After a longer glance I was pretty sure he was drunk too. As I got closer to the intersection I noticed he was coming my way. As he got closer and closer I avoided eye contact and looked at the ground. As he jaywalked across a busy intersection I took the cross walk and avoided him. But the amazing this is before I got halfway across the street the story of “The Good Samaritan” began running through my mind. I felt like I was being asked the question “will you cross over the street and pass by on the other side?” I was pierced. I made it to the other side of the road before I had to turn back. As I turned back the man was stumbling in front of traffic with the drivers trying to avoid him but not willing to slow their commute. I raced back into traffic and met him in the street in front of a city bus. In an awkward embrace we made it across the street to safety. I also had the opportunity to learn a name, to make a friend and to provide a meal. Who is my neighbor? On that street in St. Louis it was that man. Since that day I’ve been challenged, when I look at poverty, to ask myself. Will I cross the street? Will I pass by on the other side of the road? Will you? Or maybe you and I will do the other thing and be a good neighbor and find that we are inheriting eternal life.

- Eric Dipzinski

Monday, December 21, 2009

Incarnational Kingdom

“We are called to incarnate the Kingdom of God.” I read that phrase this past week. It startled me. I wasn’t used to that sort of language. The incarnation, well, that’s Jesus’ deal. I just sit back and admire what Jesus has done, right? Now, before you accuse me of heresy and set up a council to renounce me, I do believe that Jesus is the unique incarnation of God. He alone is the Logos, the Word made flesh. But what this quote is getting at is that we are called to put “flesh on” the Kingdom of God. This reign of God breaking into the fallen world. You and me are to walk around Colorado Springs (or wherever you might live) embodying the good news of the Kingdom of God.

I didn’t hear much about the Kingdom of God until my last year of college. This is sad because Jesus talks about the Kingdom of God pretty much more than anything else. In fact, he sees his mission as that of proclaiming the good news of the Kingdom of God. In talking about the kingdom, he doesn’t say “wait for it, wait for it…” No, he says, “the kingdom has come near.” (Matthew 4:7). He says heads up, turn around; the kingdom of God is at hand.

What Jesus was saying was that he was ushering the kingdom of God into the world. God’s reign has been inaugurated in Jesus Christ. Yet, we don’t see or experience his kingdom completely. The kingdom won’t fully be on earth as it is in heaven until the final victory of Christ. So the kingdom of God is here now and the kingdom of God is not yet fully here. We live in between the times. Or to say it another way “In Jesus Christ the Kingdom of God has come and is coming.”

But my friends, in the midst of a fallen, broken world, we live in light of this inbreaking Kingdom. We live in light of the end where there is no death or sadness. We live in light of the end where there is no crying or pain or darkness. When things are no longer the way they used to be. We live as kingdom people who have sold out to this King of justice. Who claim allegiance to this King of joy. Who owe all loyalty to this King of peace.

Shirley Guthrie puts it like this, “All of us could be tempted to simply give up in despair when we take a hard look at the world around us and the mess we make of our own lives. The hostility between people who are sexually, racially, and politically different from each other; never-ending national and international conflicts with the threat of nuclear war that will never go away; the misery and suffering of the ever-increasing number of the world’s poor, the depersonalization, manipulation, and exploitation of human beings in and by modern technological societies….in the face of all that, what use is it even to try to do something? But if we believe that since Easter the powers of evil are fighting a losing battle and that the One who has already conquered them is still at work to finish what he began, then we can take heart nevertheless to keep fighting…”

Guthrie goes on to say, “It is true that we live in a “twilight zone” in which the light of God’s compassion and justice is still at war with the powers of darkness, but because we remember what God has done in Christ and can therefore have hope for what God will do, we may be certain that it is not the twilight that comes before darkness overcomes the light but the twilight that is the dawn of a new day when light will overcome darkness.”

I encourage you to spend some time in the gospels. When Jesus talks about the kingdom of God (sometimes referred to as the kingdom of heaven), how does he describe it? When he demonstrates what it is like, what is he doing?

To get you thinking:

“When we think of a kingdom we usually think of physical power, prestige, and wealth. But the phrase “Kingdom of God” is used throughout the Gospels in a tongue-in-cheek kind of way. The Kingdom of God is set in stark contrast to worldly kingdoms. It reverses their emphases on physical power, prestige, and wealth.” Loving Justice, pg 28.

Do biblical understandings of the Kingdom apply to modern societies? If not, why? If yes, how?

When we pray the Lord’s prayer and say, “may your kingdom come” what are we praying?


-- Katie Dayton

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Incarnational Gospel

“I bring you good news of great joy for everyone! 11 The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born tonight in Bethlehem, the city of David! 12 And this is how you will recognize him: You will find a baby lying in a manger, wrapped snugly in strips of cloth!” – Luke 2:10-12

Verse 12 might be one of most ridiculous statements ever written.

The Lord of the Universe that you have been waiting for is here. Finally. Oh, and this is how you will recognize him: the Lord of all of history will be a baby lying in a manger. The Savior, Messiah will be wrapped not in royal robes but in strips of cloth.

I know we have heard this Bible passage a lot. It is a cute story with shepherds and sheep and some singing angels, but we also know that this isn’t just cliché- this is the story of History. This is our story, and the reality of this passage doesn’t just mean something on December 25th or the weeks leading up to Christmas. The truth of this passage changes everything. It changes how we see God. (you want to talk about love?) It changes how we see his purposes and plans (He stepped down, He cares, He is on the move). It changes how we view OUR mission in the world.

Yesterday, we sang a song at church called, “How many kings?” The song speaks of this unlikely hero, this savior who is so small and frail. The song seems to be asking this question: Is He is the One? He is not what we expected. Is He the One who can put us back together again? Is he the Son of God? By way of comparison, the song asks, “how many kings have step down from their thrones and how many lords have abandoned their homes. How many greats have become the least for me?”

The answer is a resounding NONE. None of them laid down their scepter, took of their royal robes for me. None of them left their palaces or gave up their rights to the throne.

Except for One. This One who the shepherds would find lying in a manger.

Paul captures the utter ridiculousness of it all saying to the church of Phillipi that Jesus, “Though he was God, he did not demand and cling to his rights as God. 7 He made himself nothing; he took the humble position of a slave and appeared in human form. 8

Jesus left the heights of heaven and came down to the depths of earth. He humbled himself and walked where we walk. Lived where we live. He ate with people. Hung out with them. Weeped with them. Laughed with them. Touched them. Healed them. Spoke truth to them.

It would be one thing if Jesus did all that with the pretty, respectable, “have it all together” people.

But Jesus, well, he goes to the broken. The hurting. The lepers. The outsiders. The weak. The marginalized. The lost. The prostitutes. The sinners. The forgotten.

Those verses that Paul writes to the Philippians are amazing. Kind of takes your breath away. There’s just one thing. That whole passage starts with something I like to call verse 5. Verse 5 that says “Your attitude should be the same that Christ Jesus had.”

So let’s put it altogether now: Your attitude should be the same that Christ Jesus had. 6 Though he was God, he did not demand and cling to his rights as God. 7 He made himself nothing; he took the humble position of a slave and appeared in human form. 8 And in human form he obediently humbled himself even further by dying a criminal’s death on a cross.

You see that little verse in Luke 2 about the Messiah coming as a baby. Weak. Dependent. Lying in a manger. Humbled. Poor. It speaks not just to the Christmas story, but to how I live tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.

Because I worship and serve and follow a God who says I will get my hands dirty. I will come to you. I will let go of my rights and privileges. I will be where you are.

You could look at the world around you and say too dirty. Too messy. Too broken. Too hard. Too costly. To go. But you could also look to Jesus and say I want to be where you are.

How many kings step down from their thrones? How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?

How many 9th graders would love those unlike her? How many college student would go to the inner city and be with the people there? How many respectable citizens would rub shoulders with the people in homeless situations?

Some things to ponder: what does it mean for us to incarnate the gospel? How do we do that? The gospel is one of weakness and foolishness- what does that mean for how we proclaim it- in words and in the way we live.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QaVc-Qqw6oA


- Katie Dayton

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

U2 and The Wall


Just got home from a road trip of a lifetime. From Colorado Springs, through Montrose, CO, to Las Vegas. With a best friend and an old friend and two new friends in a station wagon, across the astonishing Utah desert to sin city. And there to fulfill a "bucket list" dream, to see U2 in concert.

It was stunning, emotional, moving, happy, beloved, and filled with the presence of God. I can't wait to tell you about it.

But right now, I'm thinking about "the wall" that separates most of us in the American Church from the full-out life that God has called us to live, and from contributing wholeheartedly to the glory of a restored creation. And what I saw in U2 that gives me hope and inspiration about how to get through the wall.

You see, the four guys in U2 seem to have blasted a way through the wall a long time ago. Maybe that's because they come from part of the world where the post-Christian reality set in a long time ago, and Christ-followers in such places have to figure out how to live subversively, sometimes cryptically, posing the right (hard) questions that sow seeds in people about faith and Jesus and truth and what really matters. We find people like U2 in Australia and New Zealand, and all across Europe in little bands, pockets of creativity, and thinking communities. They have so much to teach us, because they got there a long time before us.

But now it's our turn, as our culture makes the big sweeping turn into the postmodern, post-Christian, and post-denominational world, marginalizing the Church, writing us off as irrelevant, and moving steadily into an amoral reality.

So, just what was U2 "selling" in Las Vegas on that Friday night? For one thing, Bono makes himself vulnerable to this increasingly secularized world by inviting us to watch him in conversation with God, to even listen in (in songs and in posture and in words spoken out to God in the midst of the concert), and to join him. Even if one doesn't believe. He is believing what he believes and he does what a believer does and he leaves it out there for others to "come and see." But he does it ON THEIR TURF. He makes the quiet invitation respectfully. Bono doesn't bully. He doesn't even try that hard to persuade. He simply bears witness. He throws a big party and invites anyone to come who will, and he points.

And by simply communing with God in a concert, Bono gives people hope that there really is Someone listening. He penetrates defences, I think, and calls out that deep down wonderment and longing that there is Someone who cares.

But hand in hand with that, the band leads with active, hands-on deeds kind of faith. You know, the Biblical kind: the "faith without works is dead" kind. The "I'll show you my faith by how I live" kind. Deeds are about the only way to win a hearing these days. And whether it's God's heart for those in extreme poverty, or for the President of the U.S., or for those unjustly jailed, or those desperately in need of HIV drugs to fight against the disease in Africa, U2 is in the fray and inviting you and me to get on board with it. And believe me, that calls forth a huge amount of trust "capital" in the world we're living in.

If I really want to get through the wall, I think it means actually risking out in the world as part of my therapy, part of the breakthrough. Waiting until I am free won't work. Working on the world's turf is the only way to get free.

That's what I think. I hate fads. i hate celebrity worship. I HATE the herd mentality. But I think U2 is on a pilgrimage that I am late in joining. And I think they have a lot to teach me. That's where I'm going, and I hope you will, too.

- Paul Parsons

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Satisfying the needs of the oppressed

“Spending yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfying the needs of the oppressed…” Isaiah 58:10

What does it look like to “spend myself in behalf of the hungry and satisfying the needs of the oppressed?”

As a part of Leadership Pikes Peak, I was to role play a scenario. I was a single parent, with two children, ages 6 months and 7 years. I needed to find shelter for myself and my kids, food, diapers, and a restraining order, and I only had $50.00. I visited the Soup Kitchen. When I asked a security guard how to obtain a restraining order and how I might get diapers, he gave me a detailed explanation about how to get both. But when he stated that the restraining order would be $85.00 I could not help but release a heavy sigh. When he left, the man across from me, another guest of the Soup Kitchen, reached out his hand, introduced himself, and offered me his phone number and to call him anytime, if I needed help. What??? He knew nothing about me…if I was crazy, if I would call and bug him all day every day, if someone was out to get me and that might put him in danger (remember, he heard me asking about a restraining order!), if I would beg him for money. He only knew this lady across from him was in trouble, in need, and seemed to be alone and scared. And he offered himself. No strings, no restrictions, no asking me for a long winded history or explanation. He just offered to spend himself on my behalf, “I don’t know your circumstances ma’am, but if you need help, you call me, anytime.”

That’s not how I spend myself. That’s too generous. That’s not safe or smart. That’s not holding the other person accountable. That might hinder their self-sufficiency.

But that’s not how it felt. It felt so caring, so loving, so accepting and non-judgmental…like he wasn’t thinking about himself and the cost, but that he cared that someone, a stranger, was hurting and in need, and he offered what he could…himself… “Spending yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfying the needs of the oppressed…” Isaiah 58:10 I don’t think he had a lot of money or tangible resources – he too was a guest of the Soup Kitchen. But what he did have, he offered. And it was the most generous gift.

How am I to spend myself in behalf of the “least of these” as Jesus directed in Matthew 25:31-46? Probably not as I have been, with conditions and parameters and concerned first with myself (comfort, safety, cost – time and resources). Jesus probably envisioned reaching out more like Andreas, my fellow guest at the Soup Kitchen, who was willing to befriend me, a stranger in need, without counting the cost, but simply responding in personal generosity, spending himself, in behalf of a stranger in need.

~Michelle Swanson

Community Ministry Coordinator

First Presbyterian Church

Thursday, December 10, 2009

The Longest Night Events

Longest Night Part I:
Monday Dec. 14th. Gathering in Weber Street Center at 6:30PM to watch a film, enter into conversation, and explore what it means to follow Christ in a broken world full of poverty and homelessness

Longest Night Part in the Middle:
check back here to this blog as we will be in discussion all week. Looking at issues in Colorado Springs. Exploring Scripture. Thinking about what it means to respond to homelessness in wise, loving, grace-filled ways.

Longest Night Part II:
Monday Dec. 21st. Meeting at 5PM at the Weber Street Center, we will walk over to the Salvation Army Soup Run and share a meal with the people who regularly eat there. Then there will be a candlelight procession to the Bijou House where we will participate in a service remembering the homeless who have died in the past year. Then, we will come back to Weber Street and process together what we have experienced, seen, and felt over the past week.