It is no secret that among my favorite theologians Stanley Hauerwas stands tall. My closest friends who have read Hauerwas’s “work” recognize how my theology has been influenced by his thought, his cantankerousness, his wit, and, most importantly, his love for the church. I am not just a “fan” of Hauerwas. I have done my best to read his writings carefully and mine from the riches found there those things which ring true and bring them to expression in an actual lived life–my own. I have learned from Hauerwas that to be Christian we must undergo training that teaches us how to see, and we learn how to see through saying, or liturgy. We are trained as we participate in the life of the people called “Church.” There we are taught how to be God’s peace in the world through the power of the Holy Spirit, the telling of the story of Scripture, and the witness of the saints.
This week I have been reading A Cross-Shattered Church: Reclaiming the Theological Heart of Preaching. The book is a collection of sermons written on various occasions. Some are written for weddings or other special life-happenings, some for worship in local churches, and others for those gathered as part of the Divinity School at Duke University. This morning this quote gave me pause:
We are well schooled as Christians. We know that we are not to identify with Judas. Yet we cannot help but think, thief though he was, Judas was right–the costly perfume should have been sold and the money given to the poor. If we are honest we cannot resist the conclusion: Judas is appealing.
Moreover, if any conviction characterizes what it means to be Christian in our day, it is surely the presumption that we ought to be on the side of the poor. No longer sure we know what it means to believe that Jesus is the Son of God, we at least take comfort that to be a Christian requires that we care about those less well off. Of course that means for us–that is, for the moderately well off–to care for the poor usually extends no farther than our attempt to make the poor like us, that is, moderately well off.
Given the world in which we find ourselves, a world that thinks what Christians believe must make us doubtful allies in the struggle for justice, the Christian concern for the poor can win us some respect. The cultural despisers of the church at least have to acknowledge that Christians do some good in spite of our reactionary convictions. So it is good that we burn with a passion for justice. The only problem with such a passion is that it can put us on Judas’s side.
-Stanley Hauerwas, “The Appeal of Judas”, A Sermon for Duke Divinity School, March 28, 2007 in A Cross-Shattered Church, 95
This strikes me as true. For those of us that deeply burn for justice, our temptation is to sell out Jesus for a bag of silver. Preaching Jesus as God’s Son, God’s peace in a violent world, who, in being hung on a cross brings an end to violence, an end to sacrifice, expresses the full measure of God’s grace, and there declares the forgiveness of sin, are peculiar truths in a world like ours. It is much easier to say that we should be nice people with a concern for those who are monetarily less well off.
Hauerwas continues his sermon by reminding us that Jesus’s response to Judas is something we wish he would have never said, “You will always have the poor with you, but you will not have me.” Hauerwas further raises excellent questions for the church, saying, “The church has glossed over Jesus’s response to Judas by not asking, ‘What if we did more than care for the poor?’ or, ‘What if we celebrated the poor?’” He then follows by simply stating, “That such questions are not asked reflects a church that has forgotten that Christianity is determinatively the faith of the poor.”
Hauerwas’s reminder extends in two directions. First, Hauerwas gazes across the span of church history and acknowledges the church’s buildings, liturgy, music and hymns, is a beauty for the poor. In addition, “The literature of the church, her theology and philosophy, is distorted if it does not contribute to the common life determined by the worship of a Savior who was poor.” This last quotation leads directly to Hauewas second point of emphasis–the Messiah Christians worship was poor. Indeed, “The poor you will always have with you.”
I can only hope that my theology as it has been embodied among my peers and among the students I have mentored has reflected a celebration of those who are poor. I also hope that I am not among those who are “no longer sure what it means to believe Jesus is the Son of God.” I hope that my care for those that are poor is an extension of my belief that Jesus is who Scripture and the Church across time has proclaimed him to be.
As I begin this day, that is my prayer.
Who did Jesus come for, anyway?
Posted in Church Ministry, Cultural Commentary, Theology, tagged Christianity, Church, gospel, poverty, rich and poor, suburban ministry, urban ministry, wealth on October 29, 2008 | 1 Comment »
So who did Jesus come for, anyway?
Once a week I spend a significant amount of time in a coffee shop. My visit (during which I enjoy an Americano and a blueberry muffin) precedes a weekly meeting I have with a friend of mine who is a college student. During my time in public space I overhear a conversation or two, and every once and while the content is fascinating. I’m sure you have had this experience.
Today I overheard a patron discussing Jesus with the espresso jockey behind the bar, with the conversation inspired due to a book carried by the customer–Donald Miller’s Searching for God Knows What (which I’ve read, and thought quite good). The coffee shop I’m currently at is seated in the midst of a suburb of Kansas City. There is considerable financial wealth in the area, a number of growing (and very large) churches, the population is predominantly white, and there is no lack of amenities. While I know that this area is not devoid of tragedy and heartbreak (I used to live in an apartment complex nearby and came to know a few of my neighbors), the people who live here have it pretty good.
The quote listed above is significant in light of this data, for the persons being cast down by the customer I overheard were essentially those all around the establishment receiving my patronage today. The gentleman who uttered this quote was anglo, dressed rather hip, and seemed to have the financial means to be doing pretty well. He was paying an above average price for an espresso beverage, anyway. While he was discussing those who Jesus clearly came for, I reflected on my own theology and wondered if my own inclinations toward the poor have resulted in a snobbery toward those who are rich.
There is no doubt that many of the empires some churches have established in suburbia are collecting the tithe to support a staff, maintain a facility, and upgrade fancy programs for existing church ministries. It is not true of all churches, however. It is also true that some church members are so consumed with keeping up with the Joneses in their neighborhoods that they neglect the poor. But it is not true of all church members who have affluence. It is very difficult to speak generally about “suburbanite, yuppie, right wing, judgmental” Christian people, for we are talking about people after all–people who are diverse, possess varying degrees of seriousness regarding their own Christian maturity, and who have received varying degrees of attentive, helpful discipling over the course of their life as followers of Jesus. Besides, even if many of these people in an affluent area of suburban Kansas City fall short of many Christian ideals (and they do), did Jesus not come for these people as well?
Even the rich, yuppie, suburbanite can be redeemed. And even the rich, yuppie suburbanite can do great things for the Kingdom if they become generous, compassionate, and mindful of those who are poor.
I think the biblical and historical data, when taken comprehensively, show that Jesus came for both the rich and the poor, men and women, slave and free, Jews and Gentiles, Republicans and Democrats, Chiefs and Raiders fans. In fact, I can’t find a people group for whom Jesus did not come. The God Christians worship is a God who possesses deep concern for the poorest of his children, yes, but in order to address their suffering, frustrations, and hardship, the gospel enlists those who are rich for God’s righteous mission. John Wesley was right to express concern for those in his movement who began to amass wealth–those who submitted themselves to the rule of a holy community began to become regarded as hard working, honest, diligent, and trustworthy, and economically they prospered. Wesley felt that wealth endangered the soul, but nevertheless recognized the opportunity to parlay that wealth into blessing. Thus the dictum commonly attributed to Wesley, “Do all the good you can, in all the ways you can, to all the souls you can, in every place you can, at all the times you can, with all the zeal you can, as long as ever you can.”
I’ll close with two stories. A friend of mine in her twenties has devoted the last several years to serving the poor in one of the major urban centers of America. She has discipled other young people to care for and remember the poor, and invested in a number of church groups in hope of instilling virtue in a generation of Christians currently being trained to live the holy life that includes a heart for justice. Along the way she has gathered innumerable stories of hope, love, and joy while working among the poor. She has seen God present while living alongside the poor.
Another friend of mine has spent the last several years working among the rich, proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ. She has worked to move individuals toward generosity, service with and to the poor, and an increasing life of simplicity. She has heard many stories of people who have given up on accumulating more stuff, have dedicated time to serve the poor, and have shared their experience of working among the least of these with friends and family members, resulting in a larger number of people who wish to join in the care of the poor. She has heard stories of God’s blessing toward those who are rich as they have joined in God’s mission, and rejoiced.
It is currently faddish to decry the rich in the name of the poor, but Jesus came to redeem us all. The rich from our greed (I consider myself quite rich since I have a house, car, and little want). And the poor from the tyranny of wondering where the next meal will come from, where money for the heating bill will materialize from, and if their children will ever grow to be happy. Our concern should be for all. Our lives should give witness to the truth. Our hope should be in Christ. And our hands should be about his work.
God save us all.
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