I found the accompanying article quite interesting and felt a pain in my heart for the struggles people go through. Who must suffer the "slings and aarows" from others who are less thoughtful and more sure of their conservative dogmas. Who do not understand the passion that drives these individuals.
Who reminded me of my own pastor's more recent journey in 2012, Rob Bell, who was much younger than myself when I began listening to him Sunday after Sunday. To a young man full of passion and zeal wishing to be heard. Who taught or preached in beautiful, soaring rhetoric, full of the wind of the Holy Spirit pleading in his voice to be heard and understood.
In many ways there will always be zealots or passionate evangelists whose message comes before the people they wish to reach. Full of hardened conviction they preach or conduct their message in such a way as to be continually in confrontation with some person, entity, or institution. Usually they have strong personalities and find it difficult, if not impossible, to back down, unless suffering from a physical malady like depression or overwhelming circumstances leading to a nervous breakdown of sorts.
And so it is with a plea that we patiently learn to listen to these disciples of God, Spirit sent in wind and fire, words and duty, preaching a bible or a gospel that might help us as the church of God better understand how to temper our words, conducts, or behaviours before the Lord and to the world of mankind.
Like Rob Bell, I hold to a progressive doctrine but not in every jot-and-title of Rob's speech or beliefs. And like the author, John Suk, who would describe himself as a weak theist, or his subject, Gretta Vosper, as a soft atheist, I need to listen to their differences with my own kind of "progressive theism." A theism which wishes to embrace, without excluding, as many as I might by mine own teachings, conducts, and actions, while attempting some kind of fellowship or solidarity with the world of the faithful, both lost and found.
Some of my dear friends, or friends I have known in other life pursuits and ministries, have been remitted from their duties as lectors, pastors, theologians, and board parishioners for speaking a gospel foreign to the church group they once had elected to fellowship with. This is ok. People change. So do institutions and traditions. And when done, to consider these times as blessings in disguise while attempting to move on to some kind of healing or resolution.
There can be personal damage in firings, excommunications, and disbandment, but also feelings of betrayal, abandonment and personal hurt. As the poet says, "These are the times that try men's souls" and in these times we must use them to crucially examine ourselves, our motives, our fears, and ghosts by the Spirit of God.
In mine own case God was mute. He spoke nothing to me for nearly nine months of dark blackness. And yet in my heart, or my spirit, I do not know which, His divinely-led assurance was there by His hand towards a new direction He was leading me towards. One that was good and full of the promise land (not unlike Abraham leaving Ur I suppose).
And so, yes, I had great confusion, uncertainty, disillusionment, doubt, and feelings of abandonment. Yet this was also a time of great healing. Gentle, Spirit-led nourishment. And finally, a letting go by the hounds of heaven to pursue my next path no other could have instructed me towards because I was the first in my tribe to begin its long journey.
After that time of deep darkness came an unfathomable burden offering irresistable direction, vision, and the deep passion to bear the yoke I had been given. And so I am sure, as many others may be able to attest, that these remarkably hard times sometimes have a greater end in sight than we can ever know.
But to walk those journeys one must start. And the starting point can be hard, evil, unwanted. So that in the great lostness of one's life there may be a great foundness unlike no other. Praise God for His gracious presence during these times of horror. Even when like Job we heard Him not God was there listening to the advice of our worthless friends come to tramp upon a broken heart with coy deprecations, slanders, and toxic words of misunderstanding.
So then, above all else, as both members of the family of God, the church, and believers in Jesus Christ, let us learn not to offend when differing with one another but seek to understand how to part graciously and live tolerably with one another. To grant people the space they need to work out the difficulties in their own heart. To listen rather than speak. To pray rather than judge. Even as John Suk would later say, in his estimation lawsuits such as the one examined today should be released and a church dispute solved in a different manner. One that might be conciliatory filled with blessings, cautions, and wisdom.
As always, dear reader, I wish you peace in the grace and mercy of our great God,
February 1, 2016
* * * * * * * * * *
"The kind of house I’d like to build... is one that is a sanctuary for people with challenges:
parents struggling with special needs kids, or poverty, or students struggling to figure out
what sexual morality is all about. The kind of house I’d like to build... is one where people
who are lonely, who are dying, who are angry, or who are confused will be embraced, and
who will in turn embrace others. The kind of house I’d like to build... is one where all
present are allowed to be unsure about God while being focused on being better people."
- John Suk
When it comes to the issue of post-theism or soft atheism or weak theism or even
fundamentalism, we ought to keep in mind that most of us have logs in our eyes
when it comes to almost everything in the Sermon on the Mount. - John Suk
by John Suk
January 31, 2016
Faith isn't sight, and so it can be hard to be sure. In this blog John Suk thinks aloud
about the joys, difficulties, uncertainties and ironies of faith in Jesus.
What Do We Do about Gretta Vosper?
I just preached a sermon about the Gretta Vosper controversy in the United Church of Canada. She's been in the news, a lot, lately, for her "soft atheist" beliefs. I sat down with her for a cup of coffee last week, and this is what I think, riffing off Luke 6:37-39, just a bit.
I just finished reading The Illegal, by Canadian author Lawrence Hill, who also wrote the acclaimed Book of Negroes. It’s about a black illegal immigrant, Keita Ali, in a rich white country.
The book is a terrific read. I won’t give away Keita’s story. But I do want to describe one of the book’s central characters—John.
John is a good but irritating person. For his high school graduation project, John decides to film a documentary about life in AfricTown, the slum where he, as well as many illegal immigrants, live.
John is irritating because he is incredibly smart and cocksure about it. He never asks permission. His devotion to his project is so single-minded that people get hurt along the way and he doesn’t seem to care. For example, at one point he hides himself in a closet in order to secretly film what it is like to be a prostitute in AfricTown. He accidentally films a tryst between the white Minister of Immigration, who is trying to deport all the illegals and a black prostitute. Worse, when John is discovered, the prostitute—who is a citizen—is secretly deported anyway.
This setback doesn’t slow John down. For the rest of the book John follows the Minister of Immigration everywhere, which the minister finds very threatening. In fact, everyone who encounters John feels irritated by him, even though, in the end, he turns out to be a hero.
We all know people like John—people so devoted to their vision, and so good at getting that vision “out there” that they get under our skin. Gretta Vosper is like that. She’s a United Church minister just east of here, in Scarborough, and she’s an atheist—or as she likes to say, “a soft atheist.” Soft atheism is a lot like the post-theism that Ken Gallinger used to preach from this pulpit. Gretta doesn’t believe in a God who, when asked through prayer, intervenes in our lives. She thinks that the god-stories in the Bible are myths—important, insightful, but not factual. What matters to Gretta is not the God of tradition but more the lifestyle Jesus taught through his words and actions.
This irritates a lot of people. Some people in the United Church—important people, mind you—would like to remove her from the ministry. Whether they succeed or not, the whole process looks heavy handed and coercive to anyone who isn’t a Christian; and it has created a lot of negative controversy within the United Church too.
Now, this is where it all gets a bit personal for me. I’ve had my own struggles trying to be a minister in a denomination I didn’t agree with. I tried, for several years, to stay in that denomination, papering over differences and conflicts. I eventually realized that I couldn’t do it. So I sought sanctuary in the United Church. And, I have to say, I’ve found a home here.
In the United Church I’ve come to experience doctrine not as a rigid set of required beliefs, but as a playground, as an imaginative and inspiring conversation about the meaning of life and how God fits into that—or doesn’t. Unlike Gretta Vosper or Ken Gallinger, I’m a theist—a "weak theist" in the mold of John Caputo, I’d add—though that is a discussion for another time. Still, my experience of doctrine as a playground is enhanced by Gretta’s questions and perspective. I came to the United Church for just this sort of openness and play, and I’ve found it.
In anticipation of this sermon, I sat down for a coffee with Gretta last week. We talked about her journey, how it has caused both conflict and growth in her local congregation, and a little bit about her vision for what a church should be. I enjoyed our conversation. Gretta listens well, she’s interesting, and she’s smart. Along the way I learned that her legal costs will be considerable. The Toronto Conference of the United Church—in spite of the denomination’s current financial crisis—is probably paying a lot too. Not much of a playground—this is an intense conflict. I’m really sad about that. And I could tell from my conversation with Gretta that it is taking a severe toll on her, too.
But, in all fairness, I also see that there is something about Gretta that is really irritating too, in the same way that John was irritating with his gung-ho filming. I think the root of it is that Gretta sometimes sounds less like she’s interested in a conversation and more like she’s an evangelist or proselytizer. Sometimes, in interviews or on her blog, she seems disdainful of those of us who disagree with her. For example, last year she wrote an open letter to the United Church’s moderator at that time, Gary Patterson, after the horrific  Paris terrorist attacks.
In the letter she objects to a prayer for peace on the United Church website, because she blames faith in God for the Paris attacks. She argues that such faith is idolatrous, and we need to be freed from it. She further argues that our religious values have no place in the public square, and that we need to be freed from them. In this letter, she’s not content to be an atheist minister who offers her congregation an atheist model for being a church; no, Gretta insists that her brand of atheism is the one way. It comes off as more confrontational than conversational.
What is more, the thesis of Gretta’s letter is too simple. She wants to condemn all people who believe in God, and keep their values and beliefs out of the public square, because the terrorists believed in God.
But the terrorists also had political beliefs and values. Should all political beliefs and values also be excluded from the public square, then, since political beliefs and values are also held by terrorists? Of course not.
The problem is not “faith in God,” or “faith in a political ideology.” No, the issue is what you believe about God or what you believe about politics—the theological or political values that guide you.
It is impossible to avoid the fact that everyone’s actions are always going to be rooted in personal experience and learning and values—and so why should, or how could, theism be somehow uniquely excluded from playing its part, while political ideologies or economic realities are not sanctioned?
In any case, atheism unavoidably comes with its own values too.
Finally, the letter also ignores the scholarly consensus here, well argued by Karen Armstrong in her book Fields of Blood: Religion and the History of Violence. Armstrong makes the point that it is only very rarely that religion or belief in God leads to violence. Rather, Armstrong argues that political powers use religion—as they use race or weapons or economics—to get their way. In fact, at root, most religions are decidedly not violent however individual adherents sometimes act.
The bottom line is that Gretta’s letter irritated people. It seemed to step beyond the, “let’s talk about this,” circle into the, “I’m right and you’re badly mistaken,” circle. Irritating—even threatening.
So what do we do about Gretta Vosper?
Nothing, I think. With respect to her letter to the moderator, I’d say that every minister stirs the pot about something or other, once in a while. Even playgrounds can get a bit rough sometimes. And when they do it is time for the adults in the park to help us kids step back, cool off, and start the game over. It isn’t time to shut the playground down. What do we do about Greta Vosper?
Nothing, I hope, unless it is to offer her pastoral support and to ask the United Church hierarchy to stand down.
Why nothing? For a few reasons, but they are deeply imbedded in the attitude of our text. For starters, Jesus says: “Do not judge,” and I think I could make a case for leaving Gretta alone—and perhaps for Gretta not writing her letter the way she did—on the basis of those words. When it comes to the issue of post-theism or soft atheism or weak theism or even fundamentalism, we ought to keep in mind that most of us have logs in our eyes when it comes to almost everything in the Sermon on the Mount.
But what really sings for me in today’s passage is its central concern with doing right rather than believing right. Jesus says, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I tell you?” And he goes on to explain that anyone who hear his words but does not do them is like someone who builds a house without a foundation, so that when the floods come, it is swept away.
For Jesus, in other words, calling him or God “Lord, Lord,” isn’t the main thing. An orthodox Doctrine of God isn’t what saves the house—the church. Not at all. Rather, trying to put Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount action priorities into play is what Jesus really wants.
So the kind of house I’d like to build here at LPCC is a Sermon on the Mount House. Our house should be refuge for all, especially during storms that threaten us: racism directed against First Nations or immigrants comes to mind. The kind of house I’d like to build here at Lawrence Park is one that is a sanctuary for people with challenges: parents struggling with special needs kids, or poverty, or students struggling to figure out what sexual morality is all about. The kind of house I’d like to build here at Lawrence Park is one where people who are lonely, who are dying, who are angry, or who are confused will be embraced, and who will in turn embrace others. The kind of house I’d like to build here at Lawrence Park is one where all present are allowed to be unsure about God while being focused on being better people.
If you want to make the ideals and values of the Sermon on the Mount, which transcend any single religion but are firmly rooted in our faith too, then you are welcome here—whether you say, “Lord, Lord,” or not.
Listen, I’ve left a lot unsaid in this sermon, even if I’ve preached on such themes at other times. For example, I have not explained, today, my own theistic views on God. I have not explored the practical skills we need to enjoy and benefit from each other’s company at Lawrence Park, even if we have large doctrinal disagreements amongst ourselves. And I have not explored here what we are to make of scripture, or its presumption that there is a God, if some of us don't think that scripture is right on that score. Gretta has written tons of stuff and it would take a year of sermons to go through it all and we can’t do that today or even this year.
But this much I know. Even if Gretta isn’t crying out, “Lord, Lord,” she is trying to follow the best of the program that Jesus laid out. Like us, she’s doing so imperfectly. I won’t –can’t—judge her for that. But as long as she’s trying like I’m trying to do what Jesus did, I’d like to keep her and her friends in the playground. I hope that in the end, the United Church agrees, and remains a sanctuary for both of us.