Tod Bolsinger

One Service, Three Nights

“The services of the historic triduum are more than the commemoration of a series of past events. They are the celebration of one event, unique and unrepeatable, that is eternally present in and to the community of faith and the lives of believers—namely the Passover of Jesus from death to life…The word triduum “three days” was first used by Augustine to express the essential unity of this single three-day service.” Robert Webber

Tomorrow night our church starts a three-night vigil of commemoration and devotion. Modeled after and adapted from the Holy Week vigil of the early church, we begin one service that takes three evenings to complete.

It begins on Thursday night and ends Saturday night. We begin in the upper room where we are gathered with the disciples, we are there “re-membering” with our very presence the institution of the Lord’s Supper, the giving of the “new commandment”. Then on Friday, we are taken from the garden through the trial and scourging to the foot of the cross. And then Saturday comes.

Traditionally, the “Great Triduum” is “dark” on Saturday and it remains a day of quiet reflection. In our church we began to gather on Saturday evenings for a simple, contemplative service, as it were, before the sealed tomb. We use this service to remember the promises of God that sustain us in the “in-between” times of our lives.

For many people, this “one service over three nights” is the absolute spiritual highlight of the year. To participate in a three night vigil in the footsteps of the disciples as they watch in horror at what happens to their rabbi and Lord is a challenge to our easy-believism and our formulaic faith.

It is also a sober reminder and encouragement for those of us who struggle to feel at home in this world the more we follow Jesus. For as the Lord said:

"Remember the word that I said to you, ‘Servants are not greater than their master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you; if they kept my word, they will keep yours also. But they will do all these things to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me.”
John 15:20-21

As Holy Week progresses, let me urge you to find services to attend with other believers.  If you are near San Clemente, we welcome you at our "Great Triduum" Vigil. If not, consider asking some Christian friends to gather together each evening for a simple time of Scripture reading and prayer together. 

Consider celebrating a meal on Maundy Thursday and remembering the upper room,  watch together "The Passion of the Christ" on Friday (now available on DVD) and then on Saturday simply sit in silence together considering how many promises require us to wait for God's fulfillment.  (I'll provide some thoughts for you each of these days here as well as some scriptures for each day.)

I guarantee you Easter will be far more profound on Sunday. 

Such brokenness, such need of healing

The school shooting in Minnesota yesterday reminds us in such harsh and brutal terms of the desperate brokenness of our world. May our prayers for Christ's healing this Holy Week include this stunned and grieving community.
Link: Minn. Rampage Leaves 10 Dead (washingtonpost.com).

"By His Wounds We are Healed"

On Sunday, Lent turned into Holy Week.  The time of preparation has given way to realization.  For one week, we are called on a life-transforming journey with Jesus.  Will you join in?

My church’s theme for this Holy Week comes right out of Isaiah’s prophecy about the Messiah in chapter 53:3

He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account.
Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases;
yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way,
and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (NRSV)

When I was led to these verses and this theme, I must tell you that I hesitated a little.  While I and we have known brokenness, I don’t feel broken or in need of healing right now.  Our church is strong and growing.  I am in good health, enjoying a wonderful season of life with growing kids and all the fun hub-bub of family life.  But… maybe that is just the point, I began to sense in my spirit.  When we feel strong and whole, is when we need to remember where every bit of our health, strength and blessing comes from. We need to remember that all we have been given is for God to use to offer healing and love to all who are longing for it.

The Lord has also led me to a deeper awareness of just how much genuine brokenness is right below the surface in my own Community of Faith.  One friend lost his father on Palm Sunday.  We announced a funeral service for another dear saint.  Many of us have bodies in need of healing, broken relationships, crumbling marriages, fractured friendships.  Faith that has been broken or lost along the way.   Some of us carry the bruises inflicted upon us by well-meaning but oh-so-human Christians and churches.  Some of us have deep hidden places in need of God’s healing touch.  God calls us to minister to each other, to comfort each other. 

Holy Week is where we remember the length to which God has gone to bring healing to our broken places. 

Holy Week is where we focus our attention on the God who does for us—himself!—what we cannot.  In Jesus, the God of all power and strength becomes the “man of suffering”.  HE has borne our infirmities, HE has carried our diseases, HE was wounded for our transgressions, HE was the one wounded, striped and bruised so that we may be healed.

In short, Holy Week is all about Him, and our need, no matter who we are or where we are in life, for Him.  Isn’t it?

Skipping Holy Week…

A couple of years ago, John Grisham wrote a light and whimsical book that packed a subtle message called Skipping Christmas.  It was a story of a couple whose college-aged daughter was going to be overseas for Christmas.  The couple decided to “skip Christmas”.  No presents, no decorations and no celebration except for a deal on Christmas cruise to a sunny port where there would be no mention of ol’ St. Nick, mistletoe and yuletide carols.  The book’s best parts are how the Christmas-cranky couple has to contend with a whole community of people who just can’t comprehend how someone could “skip Christmas.”  (And of course, it ends with some sober and sweet genuine Christmas cheer.)

But I bring this up today in the midst of a different holiday season to point out just how backward things are in our culture as we approach Easter.  While the whole country goes on a month-long raging feast to prepare for Christmas, most every person (and a good deal number of Christians), forget all about any time of preparation and jump right ahead to Easter.  Most of us skip Holy week altogether.  And our Easter suffers for it. 

Forgive me if this sounds like a rant.  It’s more a musing meant to help us reconsider what we are missing before its too late.  You see, while even Madison Avenue insists we prepare early get in the appropriately-pc “holiday spirit” at Christmas time, there is virtually nothing external that will remind us that on Sunday we celebrate an even more important event in human history.

In our school district, there is no holiday this week.  In fact, some kids have state tests to take on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.  Spring break is completely disconnected from Easter at all.  And even those of us who are eagerly and genuinely looking forward to a Sunday of church, family, egg hunts, pretty hats and feasts will forget that this whole week is meant to be “set apart” a holy week that takes us on a spiritual journey in the footsteps of the disciples as they followed Jesus to Jerusalem, the Temple, the upper room, the cross, the tomb and then…the unimaginable and unimaginably greatest thing ever. 

It is a season meant for pondering, meant for consideration, meant for reflecting, meant to make sure that when Easter arrives, we "get" it.

But most of us will skip it.  Even many of the most devout who lifted our voices yesterday and waved branches to celebrate the triumphal entry of Jesus on Palm Sunday, will give barely a fleeting nod to the cross on Good Friday, but will go straight to Easter, unwittingly convincing ourselves that the Christian life is all about going from triumph to resurrection with no death or sacrifice needed. 

My friends, there is an invitation to a journey that begins today.  An invitation to follow Jesus.  To identify with his death and by doing so, experiencing his new life.  It is a journey that changes us completely if we will let it.  Paul put it this way:

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. (Romans 6:3-5)

“For IF…” That is, of course, one sobering conditional because so many of us want the resurrection without the death.  But it is also a promise that is secure, “if” we don’t skip it. 

Tomorrow: “By His Wounds We are Healed”
Wednesday: One Service, Three Nights
Thursday: What’s the Commandment to Remember?
Friday: What only Grace could call Good.
Saturday: The Christian Life in Miniature
Sunday: “That So The Broken Bones May Joy.”

When Jesus Calls

This is the second part of my message from last Sunday on the "Spiritual Discipline of Suiting Up." It's a bit lengthy today as I thought I'd wrap up this section before the weekend.

Matthew 4:18-22
18 One day as Jesus was walking along the shore beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers—Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew—fishing with a net, for they were commercial fishermen. 19 Jesus called out to them, “Come, be my disciples, and I will show you how to fish for people!” 20 And they left their nets at once and went with him.
21 A little farther up the shore he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, mending their nets. And he called them to come, too. 22 They immediately followed him, leaving the boat and their father behind.  (NLT)

In a church like ours, we have constant needs.  Needs for Sunday School teachers and greeters, worship leaders, small group leaders, Stephen ministers and the like.  But what we really want are people who feel called—at least for this season of time—to be part of a particular ministry that is bigger than they are.  We don’t just want lots people who are responding to the needs, we want people who are heeding the call of Jesus.  If we all heed the call, all the needs will be met. 

So how do we heed the call of Jesus?  How do we practice the spiritual discipline of suiting up, of standing ready to hear and heed Jesus’ call to join him in his ministry in this church and to a hurting world? 

First and foremost by recognizing what a call from Jesus sounds like.  So, let’s begin by looking again at the way Jesus called these disciples, these four who assumed, like you and I often assume, that they wouldn’t be called to do anything but sit on the sides and cheer on others.  And what we find will help us to “suit up”, to ready ourselves for something bigger than ourselves, to open ourselves to the call of Jesus in your life.  So, since Jesus called four disciples, let me offer you four points. 

• Jesus’ call interrupts you.

When we focus on meeting needs, we focus on what we can do, what we have time to do, if we have space to do it.  But the call of Jesus is different from what we expect.   

Many of us assume that Jesus’ call will come to us when we are completely at prayer, completely at rest, at a calm crossroad in our lives.  We think, “I know when I’ll receive a call to do something great for Jesus:  It will be when I retire, when the kids are grown, when the 401K is full, when the business can stand on its own.”  If we are young, we think, “After I get a good job and make a lot of money.  After I am married.  Or once I pay off these credit cards.”

My friends, I believe that we can be hear different calls in different seasons of life, but the call to follow Jesus, to dedicate yourself to Jesus, to participate in what he is doing in the world, usually comes as a complete interruption to whatever else we may have planned. 

Look at these four would be disciples.  The text reminds us that they are “commercial fishermen.”  They were not some brothers killing time on a vacation, but were hard at work making a living taking care of families.  And when Jesus calls Peter and Andrew it was “while they were fishing,” right in the middle of the day.

Can you imagine?  You are sitting on the phone with a client, and your assistant breaks in: “Excuse me but Jesus is on the line and he says I should interrupt you and tell you that you are to follow him.”

It seems crazy, but that is exactly what he did here.  And I can’t tell you how many people have told me over the years how the call of God in their lives to a particular, meaningful ministry completely rearranged their lives and plans. 

The first point we learn from this passage is that Jesus’ call interrupts you. And the second point is very much like the first:

• Jesus’ call inconveniences you.

Again, if we focus on meeting needs, we focus on those needs that are convenient for us or that we are able to squeeze into already busy lives.  But one of the most interesting points in this little story is the seeming throw away line: “he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, mending their nets…” 

Being a fisherman is hard work, and it is unpredictable work. If the nets have holes, the fish aren’t going to be caught.  So this is a particularly busy time for these two men. It’s like being an accountant and the call of Jesus comes to you during tax season. 

Further, to be a fisherman in the first century was a lucrative job.  They made good money.  And when James and John are called by Jesus and they not only leave behind their business, they leave behind their father, Zebedee.  Even in the first century this was understood to be a most radical decision.  Sons are expected to stay in the family business at least until the father dies. 

Most scholars assume that Jesus himself didn’t start his ministry until he was thirty because he waited until Joseph passed away.  Instead, he stayed home working as a carpenter until his time came.  But when Jesus himself calls these particular men, he calls them from their father and his business.

The call of Jesus comes and inconveniences an entire family.  But it is a call from Jesus, so they go. 

So far we have learned that a call from Jesus interrupts you, a call from Jesus inconveniences you.  Now in all fairness, Jesus doesn’t always interrupt or inconvenience us, but it is important to remember that Jesus doesn’t just call us when we have nothing else to do, nor any other commitments.  This passage takes away two of our common objections.  But these last two points, I think occur in every call of Jesus.  So the third part:   

• Jesus’ call includes partners for you.

Notice how Jesus calls these men in pairs.  Notice how both brothers are called to follow him.  This is the normal way of operating in the kingdom, the call of Jesus is almost never to go it alone.  Just think of all the pairs and teams we find in the New Testament.  Jesus and the twelve; Peter, James and John, Barnabas and Paul, Paul and Silas, Paul and Timothy, Barnabas and Mark, Priscilla and Aquila, and on and on.

This reminds us that the call of Jesus is always a call to community.  When we follow Jesus, we follow together. 

Very often as a pastor, I’ll get an idea that I think may be call for me or for the church.  Instead of running off and doing it, I have learned to pray and ask God to reveal someone else who should be my partner in it.  If there is no partner, no sense of community, no shared responsibility and accountability, then I assume that there is not yet a call. 

All of our ministries, both in this church and in the world need called partners to lead them.  Jesus’ call interrupts you, inconveniences you, includes partners for you and lastly,

• Jesus’ call invites you to follow Jesus more closely.

Eugene Peterson wrote in a recent article in Christianity Today:
“One way to define the spiritual life is getting so tired and fed up with yourself you go on to something better, which is following Jesus.”   

In essence that is what the invitation of Jesus does, it takes our eyes off ourselves.  That is also why the need is not the call.  When I am focusing on meeting needs, I am focusing on what I can do, what I can accomplish, what I can achieve.  When I following Jesus, Jesus is then my focus. 

This is, dear friends, the most important point of all.  Jesus doesn’t just call you to use you.  He calls you to be with him, to be close to him, to have your life so entirely transformed that you will become more and more like him.  A genuine call of Jesus to an opportunity to be part of his amazing ministry is an opportunity to be with Jesus and do what he is doing.

Early in ministry I went on a retreat and the leader asked us to spend some time in quiet and imagine that Jesus was in front of us.  Just imagine that Jesus had walked right up to us and asked us this question:  What can I do for you?

The retreat leader said, in prayer, reflect on your life and your ministry and consider, what is your request?  What would you want him to do in your life and ministry?

I have to tell you that many things crossed my mind: Would I ask him for a big ministry, a famous ministry, a successful ministry?  Would I ask him for more resources, more opportunities?  What did I really want? 

And then it hit me and I remember sitting on a stump and simply, praying: “Jesus, take me with you.  All I really want is to be with you.  I want to be closer to you, to know you, to understand your heart.  I want to do whatever you are doing in the world.  Just take me with you.” 

My friends, that remains my deepest prayer each day.  All I want is to be doing what Jesus is doing in the world.  I want our church to be a community of people who are all ready to do whatever it takes to follow the call of Jesus into the world. 

Suiting up is readying yourself to become part of something bigger than yourself.  It’s not necessarily responding, but it is readying. 

So, you may be asking: What do I do to practice the spiritual discipline of suiting up, of readying myself for a particular call from Jesus?

Well, here it is:  Try on the suit.

Most people don’t discover a genuine specific call from Jesus overnight.  It usually takes awhile for those of us who have been so used to being spectators to even hear the call to “suit up” and get in the game.  And in the course of our lifetimes we may be called to a number of different specific callings in different seasons.  So, in order to be a person who is committed to something bigger than yourself, who is open to the call of Jesus that will rearrange your life, develop the spiritual discipline of trying on different “suits” to see what fits.

As you serve in this church or in the world, use it as a time of trying on the suit and considering your own calling. 

Use these last days of Lent to consider what Jesus did for you and what you can do in return. 

What do you think you might be called to do?  Where is Christ putting a passion in your heart a desire in your soul?  Where do you feel his “nudge”, his tap on the shoulder, his invitation to follow him more closely and be part of something bigger than yourself? 

Is it a ministry with the poor?  Is it a mission trip like we are taking to Africa? 
Is it a ministry of hospitality with our friends at Camp Pendleton? 
Is it learning how to share the gospel with unbelievers, defend the faith to skeptic or teach the faith to eager new Christians? Is it passing on the faith to the next generation?  Is it mentoring young families? Or leading a small group?
Is it being part of the leadership of this church or a particular part of our mission to the world?
Maybe some young people in our church need to consider a call of becoming a pastor.  Or maybe it is something that none of the rest of us have even thought of. 

In the 18th century, missionary, William Carey urged his followers to “Expect great things from God, attempt great things for God.” 

My friends, what do you want to attempt for God in your life? 

You may not hear a specific calling at this particular moment.  But it is time to open yourself to Jesus call in your life, using your specific gifts and unique talents.  It’s time to “suit up” and be ready to be put in the game. 

Suiting Up

Matthew 4:18-22
18 One day as Jesus was walking along the shore beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers—Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew—fishing with a net, for they were commercial fishermen. 19 Jesus called out to them, “Come, be my disciples, and I will show you how to fish for people!” 20 And they left their nets at once and went with him.
21 A little farther up the shore he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, mending their nets. And he called them to come, too. 22 They immediately followed him, leaving the boat and their father behind.  (NLT)


We are nearing the end of a Lenten Series called, The Gentle Yoke: Spirituality for Stubborn Souls. In this series we have been looking at what it means for us to be yoked together with Christ as his disciples.  And today we are going to consider another communal spiritual discipline: What I am calling the spiritual discipline of “suiting up”. 

And what I mean by that is the spiritual discipline of readying yourself to become part of something bigger than yourself: of opening yourself to the possibility that Jesus will call you, you specifically, to a particular task, a particular opportunity, a particular experience that is part of his ongoing work to reconcile and heal the world.  And frankly most of us just don’t expect that Jesus is going to do that.

When we think of the idea of calling, most of us believe that only “special” Christians are called.  So, we think, Billy Graham, the Pope, and Rick Warren are called.  Pastors are called—at least some of them.  (At least we hope they are.) But that’s about it.  The rest of us?  Our job is just to support the called ones.  It’s to cheer them on and encourage their calling. 

I had a seminary professor that said that most of us view being a Christian the same way that I view rooting for the Angels during baseball season.  If I am particular committed, I don’t just watch on TV occasionally, I go to the stadium as often as I can good seats, I pay my money, I wear my Angel jersey, I put on my cap, I bang my thundersticks, I jump up and down for the Rally Monkey and I cheer on the players.  I feel as if I am part of them.  I call them my team and I am loyal to them. Even when they change their name to the goofy Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, I stand by them.

But there is absolutely one thing that I am certain:  I am not getting on the field.  I am not going to play.  The coach will never call my name.  And as much as I might fantasize about Manager Mike Scoscia needing me in the bottom of the ninth, the truth is, is that I don’t really want to play.  I am afraid I will fail.  I would really rather just stay in the stands wear my jersey and cheer on the really “called” players.  I don’t think that I am able or worthy of being called.  I am not a player, I am fan, a supporter. 

In many ways, that was probably what Simon, Andrew, James and John thought of themselves as they prepared for another day of fishing along the Sea of Galilee.  They never dreamt that any teacher would ever call them to be his disciple. You see, in first century Jewish culture, most every boy started out with the goal of becoming a Rabbi, a teacher.  When they were of the right age, they would go “audition” with a Rabbi and if they were selected, they would become his disciple, learn from him and become a Rabbi himself someday.  If he was not selected, if the Rabbi deemed him not smart enough, not devoted enough, not spiritual enough, then he was not invited to become a disciple.  Instead he went home and took a trade—like being a fisherman.

In short, Simon, Andrew, James and John all assumed that when it came to doing something for God, they were in the cheering section.  They had not been called, they were not “in the game” at all.  They were not players, but fans, they were supporters.

But along comes Jesus and he walks into their lives and calls them to follow him, to become his disciple, to take part in his work.  Jesus’ words here are so interesting.  He calls out to them and says, “Come, be my disciples, and I will show you how to fish for people!”

The Bible says, they “immediately followed him.” Many people have conjectured about why these men were so eager to follow this stranger, but I think it is something very simple:  They all wanted to be part of something bigger than themselves. 

We want to be called.  We want to be put in the game.  We want Jesus to use us in some small, but significant way in one little corner of the Kingdom.  But what does it mean to be called?  I mean if God is the coach and needs a pinch hitter, does it mean that I just jump on the field and start swinging?

No.  At least not necessarily.  And let me be clear about this particular point by emphasizing this one phrase:  The need is not the call. 

You see so many of us think that to be called is nothing more than being willing to help out.  To be a volunteer.  To see a need and meet it.  But, that’s not the point here.  Jesus didn’t come to Peter, Andrew, James and John and say, “Hey I need some volunteers.  There is a great need out there.  People need my gospel.”  Instead, he called them to follow him.  Disciples are those who are called to Jesus and to join Jesus in Jesus’ work of meeting the great needs of the world.

That’s not to say that a call can’t come through a need.  Many, many times in life we find ourselves seeing a need and in it, hearing a call.  In many ways that is what has been happening in our church as we seek to start a new Hispanic ministry and a new ministry working with people whose lives have been devastated by AIDS in Africa.  Through the needs, and ample prayerful discussion, our Session discerned a call for our church. 

But, to be a disciple, to be yoked to Jesus is not necessarily about meeting the world’s needs; it is answering Jesus’ call.  And if we believe this we will suit up, we will enter the game, our lives will become part of something bigger than ourselves: If we heed the call, we will meet the needs.

You see, Jesus is the one who hears the prayers of the suffering world.  Jesus is the one who knows the needs of every broken heart.  Jesus is the one who died for the sin of the world, and Jesus is one who came to reveal the love of God to the world. My friends, if we heed Jesus’ call, our lives will be part of something much, much bigger than ourselves, our lives will be part of God’s plan in Jesus to reconcile and heal the world.

So here is a second key idea, which is a corollary of the first: If you want to be part of something bigger than you, practice heeding Christ’s call, not meeting human needs.  Focus on responding to Jesus as the very first priority of your life. 

Tomorrow: What a call from Jesus looks like.

Church Musing: I’m not much of a hugger

Ever since I came to SCPC, there has been a conspiracy to get me to hug more.  First there was the big lovable elder who used to lead a group hug he called the “Orange Crush” (we live in Orange County, CA. for those of you who are not from these parts.)  Then to make matters worse, I went out and hired an associate pastor with the spiritual gift of hugs.  She hugs everybody, which, of course puts the pressure on me to at least hug someone. 

Not that I am against hugs.  I hug my kids, I hug my wife.  I even hug a few of my friends.  When the spirit moves, I can even get carried away and hug that big lovable elder.  When people in my congregation hug me, I always hug them back, (even another big lovable guy well-known on this blog named Derek), I just tend to feel a bit awkward doing it.  I am a pretty good hand-shaker and semi decent back-slapper and really I’d like to be better at hugging.  But it’s just not natural to me.  Odd, I know, because I was a wrestler in high school, which is really a lot like hugging.

All this is to say that when I read the biblical passages about greeting each other with a holy kiss (Romans 16:16, 1 Cor 16:20, 2 Cor 13:12, 1 Thes 5:26) I can get a bit wierded out.  So, I don’t kiss, and I am not that good at hugging, but I am challenged by what appears to be something pretty important about the actual tangible expressions of care and welcome offered—even physically—between Christians. 

And what do we make of the fact that Paul stressed it four times?  Are the greetings he is encouraging fake, forced or manipulated?  I realize that a common thread on this blog has been an attempt to find more “authentic” expressions of our Christian faith.  Which I applaud wholeheartedly! 

But let's consider whether or not the reminder by Paul to greet each other warmly is any less authentic because he had to encourage it.  Maybe it was just the reminder they needed to genuinely care for each other they way they should.   I know I have needed it.  When something is in the Bible four times, it makes me think twice about neglecting it.

I write this as a way to set up the rest of the discussion I want to lead next about a few of the good issues raised in a number of comments on the recent stream about “greetings”, “passing the peace” and the different rituals that churches use as part of the worship service.  (I will return to my Lenten series of communal spiritual disciplines also, but because of the comments, I should probably focus here first for a bit.)

And I just want you all to know that I am not into all this greeting stuff because it’s natural for me.  Just the opposite.

A Devotion on Trust by Stanley Grenz

Christianity Today has posted this link to one of Stanley Grenz' devotional pieces.  It offers us a peek into a man whose probing heart for God outshone even his probing mind for things theological.

We only become willing to risk all and take the bold step of genuine faith—of entrusting ourselves to God fully, completely, unreservedly, for good or for ill—when we see in this particular situation that God is our last and only hope.

Remembering Stanley Grenz

Stanley J. Grenz
January 7, 1950–March 12, 2005

One of the keenest thinkers and respected theologians of the day, Stanley Grenz, unexpectedly died on Saturday after suffering a brain hemorrhage. The folks at Emergent/US have posted many articulate and thoughtful reflections on the impact of this “small man” who was quickly becoming a theological giant, including a personal eulogy by Brian McClaren.

While I never met Dr. Grenz, I too, grieve his passing. His book Theology for the Community of God was a most significant contribution to theological studies and the key text for those of us who are trying to address the long-neglected communal aspects of the faith. My own dissertation and first book was shaped significantly Dr. Grenz’ work.

One of the most meaningfully significant parts of academic work is the comraderie that is developed simply through reading another's writings.  As the old hymn says, "the fellowship of kindred souls is like to that above."  Dr. Grenz was on my short list of those whom I always wanted to read and whom I always hope to have opportunity to meet.   

My heartfelt condolences go out to his students and family who obviously loved him for far more than his keen mind. 

Church Musings: Why do we need Two Greetings?

One of my friends was passing on some helpful feedback:

"Tod, everybody likes how warm and welcoming our church is when we greet each other at the beginning of the service, but why do we do it twice?" 

At first, I was puzzled, and then I realized what he was saying. At SCPC, we  start two of our three services with a time of greeting (our 8 AM contemplative service "greets" at the end).  But after the opening worship, a prayer of confession and an assurance of pardon, we ask the congregation to stand and go through this little traditional moment (even at our contemporary "rock and praise" service):

Pastor: May the peace of Christ be with you.
Congregation: And also with you.
Pastor: Please turn and offer each other the peace of Christ.

Every now and then I have to stop and remind people of what we are doing in the passing of the peace.  It is not a welcome (we have already done that), it is a blessing. It is being the flesh and blood, vocal words and warm embodiment of the "peace of Christ" that is offered to us with the forgiveness of sins.

What we are experiencing together is the way that God uses that person next to you who is oh-so-human to offer his grace and mercy to you.  God uses you (in all your oh-so-humanness) to offer his grace and mercy to the people around you. 

We are so used to thinking that church is all about the "vertical" (God blessing me, me praising God) that we forget that the way that God blesses me and God is praised by me is through the "horizontal".  When we pass the peace of Christ to each other, we are not being a community of "greeters", but a communiyt of "priests."  And that is worth doing every time. 

So, when you go to church today, remember, you are part of the "priesthood of all believers."   (Pretty cool, huh.)

P.S. Mark D. Roberts is posting on the same topic this weekend.  Be sure to check out both Saturday and Sunday's posts.