Filling in the Blanks in Christian Obedience

David Brooks of the New York Times, one of the likeable guys among American conservatives, offered a brief history and defense of the conservative philosophy in his column earlier this week. On the Times OP-ED page Brooks set out to show that flaws in American conservative policy have nothing to do with an unsound premise for conservatism in general.
Brooks is a well-intended man, as are many conservatives, so I gave him a read. He traced his movement back to the Englishman Edmund Burke, whose Reflections on the Revolution in France (1790) was once a staple of a liberal arts college education. “What Burke articulated,” Brooks wrote, “was not an ideology or a creed, but a disposition, a reverence for tradition, a suspicion of radical change.” Roll that around in your mind a bit and you might understand without reading the rest of how Brooks says our conservative politicians jumped the track.
Put in a positive frame, “a suspicion of radical change,” could be described as a love of discipline and order. Which brings me to the impact on Christianity today. At a party recently a Christian woman in her mid-40s, widowed with two teenaged daughters, described to me how devoting herself to the Lord had given her the anchor she needed in her time of turmoil. As we began talking about faith she asked me, “What is at the center of our faith?” I answered, “the confidence to love.” She shook her head “no.” I tried again: “to serve.” Frustrated, she said, “No! Obedience! God wants our obedience.”
Obedience is a favorite concept among conservative Christians, a religious parallel to Burke’s love of order and discipline. And I’m all for it. But the word “obedience” by itself is at best an empty shell and a blank check; at worst it’s an invitation to be “good Germans.” We all know where that can lead.
“Yes,” I told my Christian friend, “I believe very much in obedience, obedience to God’s law of love--love the Lord with all your heart and all your soul, and your neighbor as yourself.” It seemed to trouble her that I had converted her answer into my original answer. At a time of chaos in her life she craved the order and discipline of submitting herself to God’s authority. She wanted boundaries that made her feel safe, not an admonition to do something like living God’s love. I understand and respect that. I have no doubt she is a good and caring person.
But I also have no doubt that the obedience I described is the same as scripture describes. Return to the law of Moses, to Deuteronomy, to the first principle, to what Jews call the “shema,” Hebrew for the word hear: “Hear O Israel: … You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” Leviticus 19 adds the second part -- “love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus later puts them together in the great commandment. “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets,” he says in Matthew. So yes to obedience! But obedience has to mean something or it becomes fertile ground for tyrants. For Christians it means obedience to the law of love. Imagine that, obedience and love are the same thing. Maybe one day we Christians will bridge our differences.

Can Christian Unity be More Than a Pipe Dream?

This morning in worship we sang that hopeful old tune, “We are One in the Spirit.” You know, the one where “we pray that our unity will one day be restored.” You may remember a time not long ago--back when the main dispute between Christians was baptism by sprinkling infants vs. immersing adults--when we could sing that hymn with a sense of possibility. Now, as Christian factions square off over issues like the war and whether homosexuality is the unpardonable sin, Christian unity seems like a pipe dream. And I'm not talking tobacco in that pipe.
But the dream lives on. Last night I attended a candlelight celebration for a “fourth day” community that is completely non-denominational. This one happens to be an Emmaus community. You may be familiar with Via de Cristo, or one of the other transformational weekend walks. Those who complete the weekends continue to gather periodically under the umbrella of God’s love. Our particular community has members from almost 30 denominations or independent congregations. When we meet in one sanctuary or another, no one can doubt that God’s spirit is in the house. We pray, we sing, we celebrate communion, we love one another. Some people lift their hands in praise, others don’t. No big deal. When we join in communion, no one asks why grape juice instead of wine, or whether anyone believes the elements are symbolically or in fact the body and blood of Christ. What joins us is more important than what separates us.
Although we have clergy participating in our gatherings and in our weekend walks, our community is essentially run by lay people. I hate to say it, but maybe that’s the secret. Take a look at the people sowing dissention in the Christian community and almost all of them are making a living by marketing their divisive opinions. Not that there’s anything wrong with making a living being clergy or running a Christian ministry. The question is, with whose voice do you speak? God’s voice or your own. I’ve spent many years learning to recognize God’s voice and I believe I know what it sounds like. It’s a voice of loving inclusion, not one of angry rejection. I’m trying to watch my own voice on that score. If we all could, maybe some day we truly would be "one in the spirit" again. Which brings me back to the chorus of the hymn: "And they'll know we are Christians by our Love." I believe Jesus said that.