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| Jesus Was a Fundamentalist The dictionary definition of "fundamentalist" in the religious sense is "a movement in American Protestantism which stresses the inerrancy of the Bible not only in matters of faith and morals but also as literal historical record and prophecy." Are you a Biblical fundamentalist? You are if you believe that every story in the Bible happened exactly as it says it happened. But there are many Christians who believe in the truth of holy scripture but who cannot believe in the historical accuracy of every story. And yet these folks are fundamentalists about other things. The jogger going out at 5:30 a.m. on a dark, blustery, blizzardy morning is a fundamentalist about her exercise regime. The carpenter whose workshop looks like a display ad is a fundamentalist about the location of each and every one of his tools. The 6-year-old who makes his parents pick off every single one of those tiny dehydrated onion squares from his Happy Meal burger is a fundamentalist about his food. The office manager whose weekly staff meetings always take exactly the same form, no matter what crisis is surging through the office, or who insists that everything that takes place be "according to plan" or "according to Robert's Rules of Order" (This is called the Order of St. Robert) is a procedural fundamentalist. The strict party-liners who world never consider voting for a candidate not run by their party are political fundamentalists. The parents who insist that their children be instructed in "the three R's" and nothing else may be called educational fundamentalists. The world's greatest fundamentalists -- are fishermen or golfers. Since there are more fisherpeople here than golfers, let’s pick on the golfers. There was a preacher who didn't have much of a sermon one Sunday so he called in sick and decided to take in a round of golf since all his congregation would be in church that Sunday morning (I know, this stretches credulity somewhat but this is a joke so stay with me here). He tees up the ball, whacks it with his best wood, out over the fairway it sails, hooking neither left or right, one bounce on the green and into the cup. Hole in one. He is flabbergasted. He tees up the ball on the second hole and the same occurs, only this time it was two bounces on the green and into the hole. The same thing happens on the third hole. Meantime, St. Peter is watching all of this from the pearly window beside the gate while God looks out from the second floor. "What are you doing God?," St. Peter asks, "don't you know he's skipping church to play golf!" "Yeah," responds God, "But who can he tell." Even within the defined domain of "religious fundamentalism" there are many varieties. Many churches pride themselves on being flexible and receptive to new ideas. But just try suddenly changing the prescribed Sunday morning order of worship. It will suddenly become apparent that even within the most "liberal" congregations we tend to develop liturgical fundamentalism. Or try reading from The Woman's Bible in a male-dominated church or one of the newest paraphrases of Luke's gospel at the Christmas Eve service in order to gauge the Biblical fundamentalism of your spirit. Of course, if you really want to fan the flames of fundamentalism, start messing around with the church music. Of course, none of this ever happens to our church! The point is that all of us are fundamentalists about something. We all choose to erect certain foundational pillars that we use to support the weight of other attitudes and actions called for in our lives. Being a "fundamentalist" about some things can strengthen our centeredness and build up our sense of security. Fundamentalism only becomes a problem when those rocks of certainty we have placed in our lives spread their stoniness to the depth of our souls, or harden the compassion of our hearts. Mark's gospel pinpoints this problem in the second story of today's text. Even as he is moved to compassion by the sight of the man with the withered hand, Jesus is moved to anger as he detects the "hardness of heart" shared by those watching him. Jesus and the bystanders in the synagogue that day were butting head-on into each other's fundamentalisms. For the Pharisees, abiding by the strict letter of the law concerning correct Sabbath observation was the fundamentalism shaping their attitude. Like the Pharisees from the first story of today's text (2:23-28), these synagogue observers believed that safeguarding Sabbath observation was more important than the individual situations that they found themselves confronting. In both these cases, however, Jesus also acts as a fundamentalist. But here, as everywhere else in the gospel stories, Jesus' actions and attitudes are defined by his fundamentalism of love. Jesus is a love fundamentalist. In everything he did, in everything he said, Jesus acted out this love fundamentalism. It was love fundamentalism that urged Jesus to heal the man's withered hand on a Sabbath. It was love fundamentalism that kept Jesus from Satan's temptations in the wilderness. It was love fundamentalism that spurred Jesus to sweep the children up into his arms. It was love fundamentalism that drove Jesus to choose humiliation over political power. Douglas Hall of Canada's McGill University says that the law requires us to tolerate one another. But the law of Christ makes tolerance not enough. He writes, "It may be good enough, legally and politically, for the pluralistic society; but it is not good enough for the one who did not say, 'Tolerate your neighbor,' but 'Love your neighbor'". The great thing about being a love fundamentalist is that the more strictly you abide by your fundamentalism, the greater your freedom. Instead of narrowing your vision or limiting your options, love fundamentalism opens whole new worlds of possibilities and promise. The fundamentalism of love always offers one more chance, always goes one more mile, always trusts one more time, always believes one more possibility, always commits one more hour, always cries one more tear, always rejoices over one more soul. But like all fundamentalisms, love fundamentalism depends on commitment, practice, and obedience in order for it to truly define the depth and direction of our lives. If something is not woven within the very fabric of our lives it is not a fundamental part of our being. Jesus chose to weave the thread of love throughout every aspect of his existence. The very fiber of his soul was knit together with this love. Will we choose to do the same? This story comes from a Sunday school ministry in the part of New York City that has been rated the "most likely place to get killed." The pastor Bill Wilson himself has been stabbed twice, shot at, and a member of his team killed. But he stays there, and not without controversy, and ministers in Jesus' name to people the rest of the church has largely forgotten. The largest bus ministry in America is not in the suburbs, but in Hell's Kitchen. Here’s an excerpt from his book, "Why I Chose to Live in Hell." One Puerto Rican lady, after getting saved in church, came to me with an urgent request. She didn't speak a word of English, so she told me through an interpreter, "I want to do something for God, please." "I don't know what you can do," I answered. "Please, let me do something," she said in Spanish. "Okay. I'll put you on a bus. Ride a different bus every week and just love the kids." So every week she rode a different bus -- we have 50 of them -- and loved the children. She would find the worst- looking kid on the bus, put him on her lap and whisper over and over the only words she had learned in English: "I love you. Jesus loves you." After several months, she became attached to one little boy in particular. "I don't want to change buses anymore. I want to stay on this one bus," she said. The boy didn't speak. He came to Sunday school every week with his sister and sat on the woman's lap, but he never made a sound. And each week she would tell him all the way to Sunday school and all the way home, "I love you and Jesus loves you." One day, to her amazement, the little boy turned around and stammered, "I-I love you, too." Then he put his arms around her and gave her a big hug. That was 2:30 on a Saturday afternoon. At 6:30 that night, the boy was found dead in a garbage bag under a fire escape. His mother had beaten him to death and thrown his body in the trash. Wilson continues his story, "I love you and Jesus loves you." Those were some of the last words he heard in his short life -- from the lips of a Puerto Rican woman who could barely speak English. Who among us is qualified to minister? Who among us even knows what to do? Not you; not me. But I ran to an altar once, and I got some fire and just went. So did this woman who couldn't speak English. And so can you. The days of religious rhetoric are over. People have to see the reality of the gospel. And we are the only Jesus they will see, folks. You -- one person -- can make a difference. In Jesus' name, let yourself get close enough to people who hurt. Feel the pain. See the death. Feel the urgency. Then run to an altar and take your stand between the living and the dead. O God, may your Holy, Bold, and Loving Spirit move through our lives so we may be a radical and a fundamentalist about love. |
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June 4, 2000
