Happy Last Day of October!

Tonight, I will be visited by one of two entities:

1. The Great Pumpkin
2. The ghost of Martin Luther

Either way, I get presents.

In honor of Halloween and Reformation Day, here are a few old posts from years past.

First, for those curious about Halloween, here's my take on the controversial holiday.

But, since today is not just Halloween, but also the anniversary of Martin Luther's 95 Theses.
For those who are completely unfamiliar with the history behind Martin Luther, I wrote a brief post a few years back concerning the event.

The traditions and teachings of Luther, though, are alive and well today, and influence most western Christians. While I am not Lutheran, nor would I ever dare to consider myself a great theologian, I cannot deny the importance of Lutheran thought in my own writings. Below are several posts I have written throughout the past two and a half years that demonstrate Luther's legacy.
Sobald der Gülden im Becken klingt / im huy die Seel im Himmel springt
"I am Yours. Save me."
"...of whom I am the worst."
Sin Boldly (But Believe in Christ More Boldly Still): Thoughts on Evangelism
The Simple Beauty of Salvation

Luther was known for his wicked sense of humor. And just because I can, I proudly present "I Got 95 Theses, but the Pope Aint One"


Rock on.

Hat tip for the video: Locusts and Honey

"I am Yours. Save me."

One of the most powerful scenes in the movie Luther is a dialogue between Martin Luther and his superior. Luther is shown awake late at night, talking to himself and arguing with the Devil. Luther tells Father von Staupitz that he is too full of sin to be a priest and that he fears damnation. Staupitz consoles Luther, telling him to put his faith in Christ, not in his works, saying, "Look to the Cross. Say to God, 'I am Yours. Save me.'"

The modern (or postmodern) Church does a good job of encouraging its followers to do good works. Claiborne's The Irresistible Revolution is almost entirely about working for social justice. This movement has been needed for a long time. Christianity has become to focused on approaching God in a bubble, stressing personal relationships and personal salvation. The communal aspect has been lost and the Emergent movement has done a great job of restoring it.

But sometimes I think that we've gone too far to the communal side. We stress doing good works. Great. Faith without deeds is dead. But maybe we emphasize works too much (I've got to hand it to Don Miller - he does the best job of expressing this). Why am I saying this? Well, another great part of the Emergent movement is the honesty that it has brought. Over the past few weeks and months, I've started to fall into the same place Luther found himself. Too full of sin to be loved by God. Too selfish to embrace Love. It's an incredibly frightening place in which to find one's self. Fear of damnation brings about fear of Death, the very Death which we proclaim Christ to have defeated. So in questioning my salvation, I, by default, question the power of God himself.

So where's the balance? If we emphasize works too much, we fall back into the spiritual trap that was the Middle Ages and start teaching that salvation is to be earned and bought. But if we don't emphasize works, we end up where we were in the the modernist period - Christianity becomes a political tool and Christians don't live their faith.

As I read the works of Thomas Merton (I'm working on New Seeds of Contemplation) I'm starting to see the proper balance. Merton was a monk, but lived in a hermitage. He lived in solitude, but in community. He saw himself living in solitude, but connected to other people living in solitude. Always alone. Always with others. I've been trying to figure out where the balance is, and I think Thomas Merton had it right. A personal relationship with God, trusting in the salvation of Christ, but pushing towards community. Relationships not because we fear damnation, but because we Love. Doing good not because we must earn our salvation, but because we Love.

Rock on.

Ode to Joy

I like to be happy. I really do. I listen to "emo" music and enjoy the rain, yeah, but I still really like to be happy (in there own way, the typically depressing things I enjoy make me happy). I like to laugh and joke, to run around, and to have a good time. Like most people, being happy is nearly vital to my life. But like the modern ideas of Love discussed last week, happiness is just an emotion.

As several people have phrased it, "Happiness happens."

I can go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. All it takes is an unexpected, tragic event in an otherwise funny movie or getting some depressing news. Most people would agree.

Joy is quite different - you can be joyous, even in suffering. We are even told to consider trials "pure joy" (James 1:2). We may not be happy when we are persecuted, mocked, or killed, but we do it with Joy in our hearts. We may not especially enjoy serving food to the homeless, building a new house for the poor, or going without that others may have (though as we Love God more, these things will become less of a duty and more of a pleasure), but we do it with Joy.

It is well known that Martin Luther suffered from many afflictions - depression chief among them. While he was a monk, he was terrified of God, and later into his life still struggled with his doubts. But upon realizing the Good News of Christ our Lord and spreading it throughout the Holy Roman Empire, as he had to face not only his own doubts, but threats from the papacy, he continued on in Joy.

Therefore, when the path in front of us becomes dark and we begin to stumble, as the world starts to close in on us, and as we start to lose sight of Hope, even in these times, we should remember the Joy of our salvation and the new life given to us through the empty tomb that Easter morning.

Rock on.
PS: The title, of course, comes from Friedrich Schiller's poem set to the fourth movement of Beethoven's Ninth.

PPS: This post took a little longer, and I apologize. It's been a hectic week with jet lag and many journeys.

"...of whom I am the worst."

Romans 2

We teach best that which we need learn most.

In other words, this lesson is for my own benefit.

I like to judge others. when somebody asks me how my day is without waiting for a response, I judge them. When somebody spends money on something they don't need, or often times, don't even want, I judge them. And let me say this - over the past nineteen years, I've gotten very, very good at it. College classes have made sure of that. Now, I can not only judge the person, but classify them into cultural subsets and judge those as well. I can rant against consumerism, Hollywood, urban culture, suburban culture, mass production, and the newly-coined term affluenza. Like the prayer of the Pharisee, I thank God that I am not like those who give into their commercial identity.

Meanwhile, my book and CD collections continue to grow and I search for clothing that proclaims that I am not like the rest of the world.

Paul was talking to me.
Or rather, I think, Paul was talking to himself. Paul tells his follower Timothy, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners - of whom I am the worst." This is the same Paul who authored the majority of the New Testament and is considered to be the third most influential person in history (last list I saw placed him just behind Jesus and Muhammad, but that was four years ago).

Like Paul, we are all sinners. Worse yet, we all try to take the place of the Judge, the very person we claim to follow. And yet, we, along with the rest of the world, are called to be followers of the Risen Lord.

What then, shall we do? We take Martin Luther's advice. We sin boldly. We admit that we are sinners and drop our false pretenses. But we believe in Christ more boldly still.

Rock on.

Here I Stand, I Can Do No Other

Happy Reformation Day.

On this day in 1517, Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses to the door of Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany. The world hasn't been the same since.

Luther, a Augustinian monk, spent his life in fear of God's judgement. He saw no hope for salvation in the Church, which had begun focusing on works as a means for salvation, and using Purgatory as a tactic for selling indulgences.

Luther went to Wittenberg to study at the University, earned his doctorate, and most importantly, realized the importance of salvation by grace through faith.

After the posting of the Theses, Luther was excommunicated, but refused to recant, leading to his famous saying at the Diet of Worms:

Hier stehe ich; kann ich keine andere tun; Gott helfe mir.

Which, translated, is "Here I stand, I can do no other. God help me."

As Luther continued to preach, many of the local princes followed him. While it was a long time before true religious freedom was found, it broke the Roman Catholic church's five-hundred year monopoly on western Christianity. The Reformation also served to divide the Holy Roman Empire between the Protestant and Catholic states, a pretty distinct line between north and south.

The Reformation and Counter-Reformation brought the Renaissance into the Church. Luther utilized the movable-type printing press (developed by Johannes Gutenberg a century earlier), the vernacular, and wood-print cartoons to spread his word (Albrecht Duerer was heavily influenced by Luther). The Catholic Church utilized art to combat Luther's teaching.

But perhaps the most important impact of the Reformation was that it brought religious life out of its stagnant state throughout Europe. After Luther posted the Theses, the average citizen started to stand up and take notice of what was going on.

Rock on.

Edited and expanded on 31 October 2008.