If you pay attention to religious news and check religious blogs you've probably already heard about The Manhattan Declaration. I urge you to read it and consider signing.
What is it? Here's a synopsis from the website:
Christians, when they have lived up to the highest ideals of their faith, have defended the weak and vulnerable and worked tirelessly to protect and strengthen vital institutions of civil society, beginning with the family.
]]>OK, OK I know the Scripture passages that speak of Jesus as a King. I have no argument with them. The question is, what sort of kingship is his kingship. If not "of this world," then what?
The question arises on the cusp of another Christ the King Sunday. Whence cometh this liturgical observance? Informed sources (or not so informed; I include Wikipedia as one among them) tell me that Christ the King Sunday was initiated in 1925 by Pope Pius XI, not only as an effort to exalt Christ, but also as a public gesture that rejected the supposed 'kingship' of Benito Mussolini. Thus the Sunday that approaches is by its very observance an act of confession: Christ alone is king, and no earthly ruler, whether self-proclaimed or inherited or voted into office, can dare claim the title 'king.'
Problem is, if Christ's kingdom is not of this world, and the only kingships we know are of this world, then how do we characterize Christ's kingship?
]]>The November issue of Perspectives contains a pair of essays assessing the state and future of the Reformed Church in America. Donald A. Luidens hears “The Mournful Sounds of Implosion.” As counter-point, Bradley G. Lewis proposes “Using Historic Strength to Make New Glue.”
Mixing metaphors of sounds, glue and volleyball, I toss these essays as volleyballs to the Church Herald Blog. Read them. Question them. Comment on them.
]]>The vast majority of advertising is lost on me. If I had not lived in Southern California for a time, where unfortunately news about "stars" IS the news, I would hardly know a "famous" name and am always clueless when it comes to what movies are playing. I generally defer all pop culture and TV reminiscing conversations to my husband. For the first time this year we will stay home for Christmas and family will come to us. In our enthusiasm to plan our time together, we have been talking about possibly going to a play. Perhaps this is why I even noticed the ad on the side of my web browser. Momentarily distracted from the task at hand, I thought the ad might possibly be of interest. As I clicked on it, I quickly noticed this was not at all what I thought it was.
]]>Yesterday my wife, Sophie, was naturalized as a US citizen. After 30 years in this country and 27 years of marriage, she felt it was about time. The ceremony and the people were full of interesting details. Forty-eight people were naturalized, from 30 different countries. Two blondes, 46 dark haired. Actually the array of skin hues was delightful. It had the same affect on me that looking at the faces at Obama rallies gave me last year. A hopeful glimpse of the future—a sea of beautiful mocha.
I was also struck by the tone set by those in charge, comparing it to the experience of those who wander into church.
]]>Try arguing with left-leaning Christians about homosexuality and within the first five minutes someone will throw divorce and remarriage in your face. Much to my chagrin, I’ve been embroiled in debates about homosexuality many times (often on this blog!), and every time, someone defending homosexual behavior brings up divorce. “If marriage is so important to you,” the retort will go, “why don’t you ever talk about the sin of divorce?” The implication being: “You are just picking on homosexuals. You don’t follow the literal letter of the law any more than we do. If you did, you would be focusing on divorce, because that’s the bigger issue in our churches.”
]]>It's been five months since I've written on this blog. I wrote during Synod and totally enjoyed it, whether people read it or not! (Reason: it was a great way to make my thoughts concise and lucid) Well, through the prompting of Terry DeYoung, I'm back at it.
Synod seems light years away. Life goes on and so does the task of ministry within a church. I serve Bethany Reformed Church of Redlands, CA. With the exception of the few who read the Church Herald and one who stands adamantly opposed to the Belhar Confession, there was little impact of our General Synod at Bethany way out here in California. Instead, people are living their lives day to day and trying to get by. It is a blessing to serve a church like Bethany. With two exceptions, life goes on as usual here. One lost his job due to the economic slow down; another is furloughed by the state every other Friday. Beside that, the economic crunch that we are told we are experiencing, is not experienced here. Life goes on....
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The phrase status confessionis if often bandied about in the RCA. It’s Latin for "confessional status." Although it came out of specific Lutheran doctrinal debates in the 16th century, the term carries a broader connotation. It means that a particular doctrine is essential to who we are as a church. If something is status confessionis it means this is a make or break issue. It means that the church will not tolerate others views on this matter. It means that this is not an indifferent matter or one on which we can agree to disagree. It means that if we are to be faithful in confessing the gospel we must confess this.
Homosexuality is a status confessionis issue. If we tolerate the doctrine that says homosexual behavior is a gift from God, we have tolerated too much. We must confess, always with love and graciousness, that homosexual behavior is a sin and we must not allow our churches, our ministers, our schools, or our professors to say otherwise.
]]>Some of the local churches here in British Columbia have stopped hand-shaking in church. I'm wondering what is happening is other places. What is your church doing in this regard? Have you made any changes to your normal greeting patterns?
]]>When I confessed my faith this evening at a worship service at Central Reformed Church in Grand Rapids, I read with those gathered the answer to the first question of the Heidelberg Catechism with a new appreciation. Surrounded by a larger than usual proportion of homosexuals to heterosexuals, I recited “I belong—body and soul, in life and in death—not to myself but to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ....” In this worship service at a conference titled “Making Room for All,” I welcomed this continuing dialogue on homosexuality in the Reformed Church in America.
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