answering joe

My friend Joe asked me a question on Facebook about Torah, the Law of the Old Testament. In particular, he asked how a Christian deals with the fact that Leviticus forbids shellfish or mixing clothing fibers in one section, and forbids homosexual activity in another section. Why does the Church dismiss the former and continue to uphold the latter?

My response to Joe is below. Unfortunately, for some reason, Joe's original question no longer appears on FB. I don't know if FB ate his question (maybe there's a filter against "Leviticus") or if Joe pulled his question for some reason.

Anyway, here's my attempt to respond to the question: why are shrimp "in" but same-sex sexual activity "out" for Christian faith...
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Hi Joe, a good question, and one that the early Church also dealt with in the first decades of its existence.

As did the Anglican Church much later. From the Thirty-Nine Articles (founding document of the Church of England): "Although the Law given from God by Moses, as touching Ceremonies and Rites, do not bind Christian men, nor the Civil precepts thereof ought of necessity to be received in any commonwealth; yet notwithstanding, no Christian man whatsoever is free from the obedience of the Commandments which are called Moral."

The understanding is that in Christ, the works of the law were fulfilled--so temple sacrifice and dietary codes were no longer binding on Christians because their purpose had been summed up and perfected in Christ. I wouldn't describe them as "quaintly dismissable," although at times their purpose seems pretty opaque.

But the moral law, which includes sexual purity, is timeless and universal. This is repeatedly affirmed in the New Testament, and nowhere more elegantly than in Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Jesus affirmed and deepened the moral law of the Old Testament.

So, the Gentiles when they were welcomed into the Church weren't required to cook kosher or make temple sacrifice (impossible anyway after 70AD) but they were conjoined to be chaste (i.e. either faithful in marriage between man and woman or celibate outside of that covenant).

It's true that statements of civil, ceremonial, and moral law stand side by side in Leviticus and elsewhere in the OT. But recognizing which is which is not overly problematical in the light of the New Testament.

Hope this helps. I appreciate your asking.

a startling discovery

A newly unearthed fragment from the end of Matthew's Gospel, dated possibly to the first century.

"Therefore go and instill a general understanding of Christianity in all nations, affirming them in their own spiritual quests and urging them at least to to take under consideration those things I have taught which do not conflict with current public opinion."

This authoritative new text is set to be included in an upcoming Nippon Sei Ko Kai translation of the Bible.

最近発掘されたマタイによる福音書２８章の写本の一部（１世紀？）

「だから、あなたがたは行って、すべての民をキリスト教の良き理解者にしなさい。彼らなりの霊的追求を肯定し、あなたがたに教えておいたことの中から、現代社会で広く支持されている考えに相容れるものと少し向き合ってもらえるように勧めなさい。」

近いうちに出版される日本聖公会の聖書にこの新しい文が採用される予定。

onward and upward

Here is a nice news segment about the Anglican Church in North America, and how it is growing, especially among college students. The report features a bit about my friend Matt and the church where he and his wife serve, Church of the Good Shepherd in Binghamton, New York, which I had the great pleasure of visiting a few months ago.

Very encouraging stuff...

deck chair, titanic

An American priest once told me about a vision he had. He was a down to earth kind of guy, not really given to visions. But he told me about what he believed was a real vision from God, which happened while he was at a gathering of clergy in his Diocese (which rhymes with Kerjin-ya).

In the vision his fellow clergy were sitting around a table, passing around a huge mason jar. Everybody was stuffing the jar with cash. When the jar was full, somebody took it and started squirting lighter fluid into it. Then, they set it on fire. Everybody watched the cash burn.

The priest who told me about it was horrified: You're burning the money! This is a waste! This is sinful!

His interpretation: The clergy gatherings were a complete waste of time and energy. From that day, he stopped going.

I was thinking of his vision at the Tokyo diocesan synod today. Over a hundred clergy and lay people together from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. And what did we accomplish that will have any meaningful impact on anyone's life? Hmm...

The highlight of the day for me was the opening prayer, which includes these words:

Increase the numbers of those who believe in Thee, heal those who are troubled in mind or body, bless the children, restore those who have fallen into evil and turn them toward the good, bring back those who have wandered far from Thee, forgive those who repent, and grant that all who live in this land may share in your salvation.

The rest of the day had absolutely nothing to do with any of those things. Instead, we rearranged deck chairs on the Titanic. Hearing reports from a dozen committees. Changing the way the diocesan tax (I mean, assessment) is calculated. Drawing down more funds to cover expenses.

The last order of business was a resolution to send the Government some Statement about getting rid of nuclear power plants. I never speak at these meetings, but I stood up to speak against this resolution--because the drafters didn't manage to craft the actual language we were supposed to send.

I don't know whether the government should abandon nuclear energy. I do know neither the government nor anyone else in Japan will give a flying fig about what the Tokyo Diocese of the Nippon Sei Ko Kai has to say about it.

We represent less than 5,000 people in a country of 120 million. We should be worried about growing in holiness, proclaiming the Gospel, loving our neighbors--you know, living as Christians.

Not sending out meaningless statements on diocesan letterhead. And not wasting a whole day focusing on nothing of substance.

me and mr. st. james

As a hospital chaplain, I never know what I'm in for when someone calls to make an appointment.

Last week, I got a call from a woman I vaguely recalled having met once before. "I want to ask you about 19th century Evangelicalism in the Church of England."

Yeah, right, I thought, I've heard that one before (?). I made the appointment, figuring we would talk for a few minutes about Wilberforce and Spurgeon and then she would unload about her horrid recent diagnosis, or her shattered relationship with her boyfriend, or her grief having lost her mother, or her conviction that "They" were planting bugs in her bedroom.

But no. She wanted to talk about...19th century Evangelicalism in the Church of England. For a research paper on Jane Eyre. Jane's relationship with her Calvinist cousin, Mr. St. James.

Well, it's easily been 25 years since I read Jane Eyre. But we had a good time talking about Wilberforce and John Newton, the Continental Reformation and Puritanism, as well as John Henry Newman. We both shook our heads and tut-tutted at the grim doctrine of Total Depravity. I gave Calvin’s concern for the sovereignty of God its due five minutes and then went all Armenian on the subject of free will.

But as we were talking I realized something: Whatever their stripe, all those Evangelicals were tapping into some kind of huge energy source. Wilberforce’s tireless, decades-long campaign against slavery. Charles Spurgeon’s impassioned, prodigious preaching. A whole army of Christians setting out across the globe into hostile, unpleasant, sometimes lethal situations to spread the good news of Jesus Christ.

They had all discovered some secret spiritual dynamo that gave them the courage, the endurance, the eagerness, the creativity to do all these things.

And I knew what that dynamo was: Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.

The knowledge that God, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, the Righteous and Holy Judge, would bother to notice, much less reach down and lift up...even one such as me.

Then it clicked. I may not be a five-point Calvinist*. But I am a forgiven sinner. And knowing that I am a sinner, and knowing I that I have nonetheless been forgiven extravagantly by a gracious God--yeah, that knowledge is for me a source of actual energy and encouragement, even in the daily grind of ministry.


* The five doctrinal points of Calvinism are represented by the acronym TULIP:
Total Depravity (the unaided will is incapable of doing good)
Unconditional Election (God doesn't look into the future and see our choices before electing us)
Limited Atonement (Christ's atoning work only extends to the elect)
Irresistible Grace (I'm just a sinner who cain't say no)
Perseverance of the Saints (once saved always saved)

doing it right

People involved in parish ministry risk becoming near-sighted. Immersed in the small world of your own people every Sunday, you tend to forget there are other ways of doing things. Slowly, imperceptibly, you can fall into the "always done it like this" mindset--the same mindset that probably drove you a little crazy when you first arrived.

So it's instructive to visit other churches from time to time. Even if the church sucks, you're bound to encounter differences that make you think about the status quo in your own congregation.

How much better, then, to visit a church that seems to be doing many things extremely well. Last Sunday, I had the pleasure of worshipping at Church of the Good Shepherd in Binghamton, New York. My old spiritual war buddies from seminary, Matt and Anne, co-pastor this church. Boy, was it exciting!

I'd had a meeting the previous day in the southeastern part of the state, so I drove 150 miles over mountain roads and through pelting rain to get there for Sunday Eucharist. There was a moment of panic when I discovered that most of the entry points to Binghamton were under several feet of water. Thank God for GPS navigation systems.

There were so many good things going on at Good Shepherd, I'll only list a few of them:

An active, well-attended Adult Sunday School program. I got to the church at about 9:45 a.m. Finding the sanctuary empty, I went downstairs. There, flooding notwithstanding, I found a room full of maybe 50 people, ranging from college students to octogenarians, median age probably around 35. There were several different ethnicities represented, and an even number of men and women.

Okay, this is the Bishop, not Matt, but you get the idea...

When I slipped in, they were all listening attentively to Matt. He was pacing furiously around the front of the hall, using an exposition of the Great Commission (Matthew 28) to talk about the mission of Good Shepherd.

People asked questions, made comments. They answered Matt's occasional Bible knowledge questions! Matt was enthusiastically painting a picture of a congregation embedded in local communities, looking outward, eager to show God's love through service and gospel proclamation.

At one point, Matt asked: How many of you have been at this church for more than three years. Maybe half a dozen people raised their hands. Then he asked, how many have been here for more than a year and a half. About three-quarters of the people raised their hands. Talk about new growth. Something is drawing these people in.

Reverent, joyful worship. The whole service, with readings and hymns, was printed attractively in a booklet. Hospitality trumps tree conservation!

Before the service, Matt reminded the congregation, which apparently includes many new or not-yet Anglicans, to pray the words of the liturgy attentively. I suspect liturgical inculturation occurs through little catechetical moments like that.

There were maybe 130 people there (fewer than usual because of the flooding), but it felt smaller because the sanctuary (a former Catholic church) is so huge. Who knows? Maybe it will be filled one day--in the not so distant future, if current trends continue.

The music was a mix of standard Anglican hymns and praise music. A band consisting of the music director on piano, bass guitar, and bongo, acquitted themselves fairly well without drawing too much attention to themselves. I enjoyed singing.

Especially considering Matt's strong Reformed Anglican commitments, the worship style was fairly High(ish). There was a procession, with two torchbearers and a crucifer as well as a Eucharistic Minister. The altar team genuflected at some of the right places (i.e. the words about the Incarnation in the Creed) although I don't think anybody else did. A few older folks crossed themselves. Matt wore a chausuble for the Ministry of the Table. A sanctus bell accompanied his reverent elevation of the consecrated elements.

There were informal moments, too. Matt greeted us at the beginning, while Anne came to the microphone at announcement time holding the baby. The passing of the peace was a lengthy, boisterous affair.

They've just started having a person at the back of the church standing by to pray with people at any point if needed.

Solid preaching. When I get a chance, I catch Good Shepherd sermons online, so I've come to expect passionate, orthodox preaching tied closely to the biblical text. In fact, Matt and Anne's expository preaching has inspired me to do more of that with my own congregation, which has been well received (somewhat to my surprise).

Matt changed the readings in light of the week's devastating floods. It was a variation on the theodicy (=seeking to understand the place and meaning of suffering in the will of God) message that Matt has preached before, such as after the massive earthquake in Haiti.

I was again struck by Matt's refusal to let God off the hook. "God allowed this flooding to happen." Given his understanding of the inviolable sovereignty of God, that's pretty much where you have to end up. But Matt also followed that declaration with a very definitive "and we cannot know all the reasons why." Seems to me that Job would agree.

I also liked this line: "There have been many floods. God spoke about only one." Meaning: The story of Noah doesn't allow us to say that all floods are punishment for human wickedness.

Well, go read, or better yet, watch or listen to the whole thing. In fact, tune in to Good Shepherd's sermons every week. You are sure to be edified.

Also: Matt's sermon went on for more than 30 minutes, and NOT A SINGLE PERSON was looking at their watch impatiently. In an Anglican church. Nobody. They seemed quite content to sacrifice the 0.29% of their week it took to sit and listen to somebody preaching the Word of God.

Outward-looking ethos. During the floods, the church had been providing food as well as shelter for a handful of displaced families. Good Shepherd already runs a soup kitchen.

In Sunday School, Matt expressed his vision of all Good Shepherd members becoming Kingdom agents in their own communites. There was a huge, hand-drawn map of Binghamton on the wall, with parishoners' houses marked. The goal is to have various local mission groups take responsibility for their own neighborhoods, in terms of service and evangelism.

In Sunday School, and even more pointedly in his sermon, Matt was really calling on his people to go out in service. We're not social workers, he said. What we do is different. When people ask us why we're doing what we do, we say "Because God loves you and He told me to do this."

Well, there's more I could remark on. But it is clear that God is blessing the faithfulness of Good Shepherd, and that He has blessed them with passionate, clear-thinking pastors in Matt and Anne.

I'm excited about the future for this church. Especially in the wake of this flooding, which comes as a serious blow to an already economically depressed city. What better environment for the gospel to flourish in?

homeless in the choir

an article written for the St. Luke's Chapel Choir's bi-yearly anthology


"For example, something about you that people don’t know."

When Mr. Ohnishi approached me about this article, he suggested the above theme. Later, when I looked over the paper he gave me, I also noticed “my encounter with a choir” as a suggested theme. So I decided on a combination: “Something about me that people don’t know, that has to do with my encounter with a choir.”

When I was 22, I was working at an entry-level position at an ad firm in my home town in Texas. One weekend when I traveled out of state to a friend’s wedding, I met my ex-girlfriend from college, and before I knew it the old flame came roaring back to life.

A few months later, I quit my job, said goodbye to my protesting family, packed all my worldly possessions into a car and drove 1,000 kilometers to Atlanta, my heart full of thoughts of building a family and building a career in advertising.

In short, I bet the farm on “the love that lasts forever.”

It was all very exciting and romantic. And stupid.

Within two weeks of arriving in Atlanta, I discovered that my girlfriend was NOT betting the farm on “the love that lasts forever” but rather betting little plots of the farm on several different boyfriends. You might call it risk management, or different values, or playing the field.

Whatever it was, I was not down with it, and terminated the relationship. I promptly fell into a deep funk.

The problem was, now I was alone in a strange town, with no place to live, no job, and not much money. My car became my warehouse and my bedroom. I parked at night next to a public park, always worrying about whether the police would come around.

I sent my resume out to dozens of ad agencies, but had no luck landing any interviews. In fact, I couldn’t get interviews for jobs waiting tables! So I was basically spinning my wheels, at a total loss about what to do next with my life.

Around this time, I happened upon a beautiful old Episcopal church. The last time I was in church was the previous Christmas with my family. And that had been the first time in a long time. You might say I was a long way from being a “model Christian.” At that time, I wasn’t even sure I believed in God.

But I felt drawn to this church. The signboard out front said there was a service of the Stations of the Cross on the coming Friday. When I was a child, during Lent I used to go to the Stations of the Cross service every Friday with my family. The service was way too long, although it was kind of interesting because we all got to walk from station to station, making a big circuit around the inside of the church. But what I enjoyed most was the potluck supper after the service!

So maybe it was nostalgia which brought me back to this church on Friday. The service was a little lonely, with just the priest and one other parishioner besides myself.

But then, as we started walking to the first station, we sang the Stabat Mater dolorosa—“At the cross her vigil keeping…” (Hymn 149). Suddenly I was back home again, standing between my mother and father. For a little while, I forgot I was alone in a strange city, forgot I was homeless, forgot I was heartbroken, forgot everything.

I just sang, and recalled Christ’s final hours of suffering as we walked slowly around the church.

The priest approached me after the service. I’m sure he wondered who the devil I was. He had a gift that many priests I know have—namely, the gift of strongarming people into doing service at the church. “Have you ever sung in a choir?”

Next thing I knew I was a bass in the Church of Our Saviour choir. The choir took me in like a long lost relative. I got to know them. The alto who was a lab technician at the famous Centers for Disease Control. The tenor who was still single and living at home and could have been a stand-up comedian. The elderly soprano and bass couple, neither of whom had very strong voices but they sure loved Jesus. The bass who knew everything there was to know about the history of church music.

And, of course, there was a subtle (and sometimes not so subtle!) rivalry between the two best sopranoes (I’m convinced this is a phenomenon you can find in any church choir anywhere in the world--I wonder about St. Luke’s choir!).

Thursday night choir practice was the highlight of my week. (It wasn’t like I had to make room for it in my busy schedule!). So I kept going week after week, even when I finally got a job and a place to live in a different part of town.

And, of course, now I had an obligation to go to church on Sunday, too. This church had High Solemn Mass every Sunday (this was a very High Church kind of place) and the choir played an important role in leading worship.

So without planning on it, I found myself back in church again. It was a strange feeling. Somewhere, I guess I had thought I had moved on from religion. But now I found myself surrounded by stained glass and incense and candles and pious Christians. I was reciting the prayers thanks to which I had come to love the English language.

To tell the truth I have no memory of the sermons preached. I do remember the deep comfort of being fed week by week on the Body and Blood of Christ, despite the fact that I had ignored Him for so long.

And most important of all, I was part of this Christian family, accepted, welcomed into people’s homes, even, and allowed to sing together with them.

Being part of that choir probably saved me from an emotional trainwreck. I stopped singing with the choir only when I came to Japan.

So I am deeply grateful for God’s kindness. And for choir families everywhere.

ホスピタリティはこのチャペルの使命です（ローマ12: 9-21）

聖霊降臨後第１２主日（A年・特定１８）
司祭　ケビン・シーバー
聖路加国際病院聖ルカ礼拝堂
２０１１年９月４日・１０時３０分　聖餐式

今日は、ホスピタリティについて皆さんと考えたいと思います。「もてなし」でなくてホスピタリティという言葉を使っているのは、元々のギリシャ語の単語は客の世話をする、馳走することよりもっと深いニュアンスがあるからです。「フィロクセニア」という単語で、「外の人を愛する」という意味になります。もしかしたら「もてなし」の本来の意味は聖書に意味に近いかも知れませんが。

このチャペルの理念から抜粋させていただきます。

神の恵みにより建てられた聖ルカ礼拝堂は、病院・大学の礼拝堂としての特性を踏まえ、これらの存在基盤である「キリスト教の愛」を、常に示し続ける使命を担う。具体的には、
　病院の礼拝堂としては、患者、その家族、医療スタッフ、職員、ボランティアに対して、
　看護大学の礼拝堂としては、学生、教職員に対して、
　教会としては、地域と社会の人々に対して、
　祈りと慰めの機会と場を提供していくとともに、これらの人々と教会員が、神の愛のみ旨を成し遂げていくことができるように支え合い、ともに働き続ける。

さまざまな人に「祈りと慰めの機会と場を提供していく」。これこそホスピタリティの精神ではないでしょうか。問題は、どうやって祈りと慰めの機会と場を提供できるか、ということです。その前、一つのストーリーがあります。

ある日曜日の朝、ある男の人がお母さんに起こされました。「早く教会に行く準備をしなさい！」
「教会に行きたくない！」と頭の上に枕を覆いながら息子が言います。
「行かないと」とお母さん。
「だって、あの教会の人たちは冷たくて、あいさつもしてくれない。心地悪い。
　　説教もつまらないし、お茶の菓子は美味しくない、全然。」
「早く起きなさい。教会に行くのだ。」
「どうして？どうして行かなくちゃいけない？わけが分からない！」
「あなたはその教会の牧師だから、いかげんにしなさい！早く起きなさい！」

初めて教会の礼拝に参加しに行くのに、勇気が必要だと思います。この病院は「敷居が高い」と言われたりしますが、チャペルもそう思われたらちょっともったいない気がします。（祈るために紹介状はいりませんから！）

でも確かに、勇気を出して、初めて礼拝に出る人は、突然いろいろな変わったことに遭遇します。まず、教会で変な単語は山ほど使われています。アッシャー、オルター、チャプレン、聖奠、信施、供え物、降臨節、聖霊降臨節、聖餐式、陪餐、祝福、使徒、信徒、主教、司祭、師父、執事、小羊！などなど。

そして変な行動をします。座ったり、立ったり、ひざまずいたりします。いきなりお辞儀を交わします。いくつかの布袋を回します。全員で礼拝堂の前方に行進します。
これらのことは面白くて、少し慣れて来てその意味が少し分かったら素晴らしいことになり得ると思います。だけど、初めて来られた人に「祈りと慰めの機会と場を提供」しようと思うのなら、この一風変わった環境でどうやって歓迎できるか、「ここにわたしの居場所があるかも」と感じてもらえるためにどういう対応が必要なのか、それが問題だと思います。

ホスピタリティはそういうことに関心を持つのです。ホスピタリティについて３つ話したいこと：

• まず、皆さんは、自分自身ここに居場所があるということを知っていただきたいです
• それから、神はわたしたちに常に人を送ってくださり、そういう人たちを歓迎して欲しい、ということを知っていただきたいです
• そして、わたしたちの責任は、新しいクリスチャンを作るのではなくて、神の愛を示すことだ、ということを知っていただきたいです

まず、皆さんは、自分自身ここに居場所があります。

聖パウロがエフェソのクリスチャンに：

以前、あなたたちは「キリストと関わりなく、イスラエルの民に属さず、約束を含む契約と関係なく、この世の中で希望を持たず、神を知らずに生きていました。しかしあなたたちは、以前は遠く離れていたが、今や、キリスト・イエスにおいて、キリストの血によって近い者となったのです。」（エフェソ2:12-13）

わたしたちは全員、天の父の家にウェルカムされています。元々わたしたちの家ではありません。ホテルでもありません。ゲストとして扱ってもらうと思ったら大間違い。どちらかと言うと、教会は避難所に近いと思います。被災地で、ある大物がその屋敷を被災者のために開いてくれて、わたしたちはここで居候をしているような感じです。

この世に生を受けるというのは、神から遠く離れているという大惨事の状況に生れることになります。罪はそういうことです。だけでイエス・キリストは、わたしたちの罪のために死んでくださいました。イエスはその大惨事からわたしたちを救い出すために死なれたのです。だから、イエスのおかげで、わたしたちは避難所に逃れることができています。心の拠り所が与えられています。他の被災者との交わりが与えられているのです。

ここに皆さんの居場所があります。皆さんはイエス・キリストによってウェルカムされています。

２番目知っていただきたいことは：神が常にわたしたちに人を送ってくださっています。そして、そういう人たちを歓迎して欲しいのだ、ということです。
わたしたちが「神と関わりのない生活」から救い出されて、ここにウェルカムされているので、今度、わたしたちが他の人をウェルカムする番です。

このチャペルでの日曜礼拝（聖餐式）に、毎週平均５名の新来者が参加します。結構な人数です。大勢見える週もありますが、少ないときでも１人、２人の新しく来られた方があいます。とにかく毎週平均５名の方が始めてわたしたちと一緒に礼拝をしています。１年で言いますと．．．２６０人になります。

神は絶え間なく人をわたしたちのところに送ってくださっているのです。

それは、わけがあると思います。誰もただ偶然で教会に足を運ぶ人はいないと思います。必ず意味があるのです。もちろん、「わたしの人生で欠けているのはイエス・キリストだと気づいたので、イエスさまに出会うために教会の礼拝に出てみよう」と思って礼拝に参加する人は殆どいないと分かっています。

（皆さんも最初に礼拝に出たとき、そういう意図で出た方はあまりいらっしゃらないと思います。）

礼拝に出る理由は人によって違います。好奇心がある。友だちに連れて来られた。大事な人を亡くして、何かの慰めを求めている。病気や何かの不幸があって不安になっている。人生で道に迷って、何かの方向性や希望を探している。いい音楽を聞きたい、歌いたい。トイレを探していたけど場所を間違えた（笑）。

０．００１％の人は説教を聞きに来る。（どうもどうも、ようこそいらっしゃいました！）

でもこれら全部が、人間の観点から考えられる理由になります。神は神なりの理由で人を礼拝に導かれます。今日、初めて礼拝に参加している方に知っていただきたいのですが、偶然ではない、ということです。わけがあってあなたがここに導かれています。

神が人を教会の礼拝という不思議な世界に導いてくださる第一の理由は、み子イエス・キリストに出会わせることです。

イエスは今朝ここにいらっしゃいます。目に見えないし、おられることを感じ取れないかも知れませんが、間違いなくここにいらっしゃいます。なぜかと言うと、いらっしゃると約束なさっているからです。
「二人または三人がわたしの名によって集まるところには、わたしもその中にいるのである。」（マタイ18:20）

２人、３人どころか、１００人以上イエスのみ名によってここに集まっています。今日だけイエスさまがその約束を守らないわけがないと思います。

最後に知っていただきたいことは、わたしたちの責任は、新しいクリスチャンを作るのではなくて、神の愛を示すことだ、ということです。

聖公会の信者が多いこの集いに向かっては話しています。熱狂的に伝道活動をやり過ぎることはあまり心配しなくていいと思います。（むしろもっと積極的に自分の望みを人と分かち合って欲しいのです！）

だけど、このコミュニティ自体が伝道的な存在になるはずです。コミュニティを通して、わたしたちの関わり合いを通してキリストの愛を現すことが求められていることです。お互いに接することから本当のホスピタリティが生れるのです。

聖パウロは、そういうことを今日のローマの信徒への手紙で言っていると思います。イエスも、マタイの福音書でそういうことを仰っているのです。

わたしたちは、兄弟姉妹としてお互いの人生の大事なことを分かち合います。「喜ぶ人と共に喜び、泣く人と共に泣きなさい。」最近、この礼拝堂で結婚式を挙げたメンバーもいます。お葬式を行ったメンバーもいます。わたしたちは、人生の浮き沈みを共有しています。

また、ここで社会的格差はあまり通用しません。この中で医者も、看護師も、病院の他の職種の人もいます。看護大学の教員も、職員も、卒業生もいます。病院や看護大学と全く関係のない人もいます。さまざまな経済的な状況の人もいます。いくつかの国籍を持つ人もいます。

わたしたちは高ぶらないで、できるだけ互いに思いを一つにしようとしています。喧嘩や摩擦が生じたとき、兄弟愛をもって対応するように努力しています。（まあ、あまりうまくやっていないこともありますが、それは別の説教で！）

とにかく兄弟愛をもって関わり合うように励んでいると思います。そして、その兄弟愛がここから溢れ出て、神が送ってくださる人々を包んでいくことが、神が望んでおられることだと思います。

だから、わたしたちは「人をクリスチャンにする」ことは必要は求められていません。そういうことを神に任せればいいのです。人の心が神に向かうのに何が必要なのか、どのぐらい時間がかかるか、計り知れないことです。このチャペルに一回だけ来て、神の愛に気づくのが数年後になる人はいるかも知れません。でもここで種が蒔かれるかも知れません。

イエス・キリストはわたしたちの間におられます。わたしたちがお互いを愛し合えば、そして来られた人に心を開けば、わたしたちを通して人々がイエスに出会うことができるはずです。

経験者が語ります。僕は、何かを、人生で足りない何かを探していたときにある教会コミュニティに出会いました。何を求めていたのか、自分でも分かりませんでした。神も仏もあるものかと思っていた時期です。まさかイエスに出会いたいと思いませんでした。

出会ったのは、ホスピタリティのコミュニティ。全く見知らぬ、放蕩を尽くしていたこの僕を彼らにウェルカムされました。その共同生活に受け入れられました。最初躊躇していたが、やがて信頼関係を気づくことができたのです。

僕のことに関心をもってくれる人もいたし、自分の信仰を話してくれる人もいました。お互いへの愛情は目に見えました。神のことを大事にしていたことも明らかでした。そしてその音楽は最高でした。

ようやく、悟ったことがありました。すなわち、このコミュニティを通してイエス・キリストに近づいていたのだ、ということに気づいて来ました。それよりも、実はイエスさまが、その普通のクリスチャンの団体を通して僕をご自分のもとに近寄らせてくださっていたのだ、ということに気づきました。

ここでの普通のクリスチャンの団体ととても似ています。

ホスピタリティはこのチャペルの使命です。

やっぱり、忠実であること

神はジョン・ストット博士の長年の働きを通してその栄光をいろいろな形で現したと思う。その一つは、ストット博士を用いて、聖公会の中でも聖書に基づく正統的な信仰の居場所を保ってくださった、ということがあると思う。

６０年以上にわたり、聖公会全体はますます大胆に異端的な不誠実へと進んでいる。少なくとも、イギリスやアメリカというかつて支配的な力を持った地域ではそういう傾向は強い。

一方では、今全聖公会の大半となっているアフリカや東南アジアの各管区は、最初から正統的な信仰を支持してきた。

ストット博士は両世界において大きな存在だった。信仰に関する真理を常に、明瞭に説く彼の熱心によって、圧倒されそうになっている西洋の信者は大いに励まされて、聖公会から離脱する誘惑に耐える力を得たのである。

また、ストット博士がグローバルサウスの各地に行き渡って証をすることによって、若い聖公会の信者の戸惑いをなくすことに至ったと思う。すなわち、欧米の宣教師たちから「これは神のみ言葉だ」と言われた聖書を受け入れたのに、今になって「その中で教えていることを真剣に受け止めなくてもいい」と言われている矛盾。

明らかになっているのは、聖書や「一度伝えられた信仰」（ユダ3）に忠実である教会は、そのコミュニティは成長して増える。そうでない教会は、縮んで死んでしまう方向にどんどん早く進んでいく、ということ。

これは、聖公会で急激に衰えている地域でも、飛躍的に成長している地域でもそうだと思う。前者の例えと言えば、イギリスにおけるアルファ系の教会植え付けブームや新しくできた北米聖公会の成長（創立以来2年も経たない間、250の教会を植え付け、1400人以上の大人に洗礼を授けている成果がある。）

ストット博士についてのある記事で、日本のことも触れられたことに驚いた。オクスフォード宣教研究センターの創立者ビナイ・サミュエル博士は次のように書いた：

広がっていく聖公会では「聖書において、エバンジェリカリズムにおいて、正統な信仰において忠実であった教会は成長してきた。日本にあったように、この様子が見られなかった教会は死んでしまった。結果として、今日、非西洋の聖公会の3分の2の教会は、聖書に忠実である、エバジェリカル系の教会になっているのである。」

死亡を宣告された教会に属しているわたしにとって、全然嬉しくない話である。でもサミュエル博士は間違っているとも思えない。

しかも、サミュエル博士がわたしたちに日本における「教会復活」の唯一の道を示してくれている気がする。どうか、主がこれを実現できる大勢の人を育ててくださるように祈っている次第である。

it's faithfulness, stupid

It seems to me that one of the ways God showed forth His glory through the long ministry of Dr. John Stott was by using him to help preserve a foothold for biblical orthodoxy within Anglicanism.

For more than 60 years, Anglicanism as a whole has moved with increasing confidence in the direction of heterodox disobedience. At least that is the case in formerly dominant regions like the UK and North America.

By contrast, in the provinces of Africa and Southeast Asia, which now make up the vast majority of the Anglican world, Anglicanism has been predominantly orthodox from the outset.

Dr. Stott was a major presence in both worlds. His consistent, clearly articulated convictions about the essential truths of the faith greatly helped to shore up the confidence of besieged Western-world believers tempted to give up on the Anglican Communion.

Likewise, Stott's witness and extensive travels to the Global South helped dispel the confusion facing younger Anglicans, namely this contradiction: You missionaries gave us the Bible and told us it was the Word of God, and now you tell us we don't need to take the Bible's teaching seriously.

The way things work is fairly clear cut: Where the church is faithful to the scriptures and "the faith once received" (Jude 3), Anglican communities grow and multiply. Where this is not the case, churches fall into ever more rapid contraction and death.

This seems to hold true both in regions where Anglicanism is waning rapidly as well as in the younger churches that are growing by leaps and bounds. Some signs of the former can be found in the Alpha church planting boom in England, and in the Anglican Church in North America (which has planted 250 churches and baptised more than 1,400 *adults* since its inception less than two years ago).

I was surprised to find Japan "outed" in this regard in one article I read on Dr. Stott. Dr. Vinay Samuel, founder of the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies, wrote this:

In the growing worldwide Anglican Communion, "where there was biblical evangelical and orthodox faithfulness, the churches grew. Where these elements were not present, the church died, as in Japan. The result today is that two-thirds of the non-western Anglican Churches are biblically faithful Anglicans of the evangelical variety."

I must say, I'm not glad to be a part of a church that has been pronounced dead. But I also do not think Dr. Samuel is wrong.

Moreover, I think Dr. Samuel points us to the only possible avenue for resurrection in Japan. May God raise up faithful men and women to make it so.

ジョン・ストット、忠実な良い僕

先週、ジョン・ストット博士（90歳）が7月27日主のもとに召されたという悲しいニュースを知りました。

ストット博士は60年にわたりエバンジェリカリズムの世界的なリーダーとして大活躍しました。英国聖公会の司祭でもありました。そしてその二つの事実が今日に至るまで互いに矛盾していないのは、大いにストット博士のお陰だと言えましょう。

（あえてカタカナのエバンジェリカリズムを使っているのは、日本語の「福音主義運動」という表現にいろいろな言外の意味が寄せられているからです。エバンジェリカリズムとは、おもに個人的回心、信仰による救い、キリストの贖罪の死、そして積極的な福音宣教・伝道を特に強調する運動と言っていいと思います。わたしから見るとキリスト教の根本だと思うけど、すっかり道に迷っている聖公会では根本は根本でなくなっている．．．）

ストット博士が書いた『Basic Christianity』（『信仰入門』）という本は、30代のわたしにとってイエス・キリストへの信仰に立ち帰るきっかけの一つでした。キリスト教の本質に触れる書物ですが、この本を通して教会や聖書の深さ、力強さ、そして知的魅力をかいま見ることができたのです。

これを読んでいくうちに、自分の生活を聖書に沿わせるということは、それまでに想像していたような退屈で厳しい束縛ではなくて、大きな喜びと目的意識のある人生の源になり得るのではないか、とはじめて直感することができたのです。

John Stott: good and faithful servant

(translated from the Japanese)

I was sad to read last week about the death of Dr. John Stott, called to go home to the Lord on July 27, at age 90. For more than 60 years Dr. Stott was a major figure in worldwide evangelicalism. He was also a Church of England priest. And he's one of the reasons why, today, evangelicalism and Anglicanism are not mutually exclusive ideas.

(The reason I use the English term "evangelicalism" is that the Japanese expression, literally "gospelism movement," carries a lot of baggage. Evangelicalism emphasizes personal conversion, salvation by faith, Christ's atoning death, and active evangelization. At one point I would have thought this was simply the basics of Christianity, but in the adrift at sea Anglican world, the basics are no longer the basics...)

Reading Stott's book "Basic Christianity" was one of the things that brought me back to faith in Jesus Christ in my 30s. Through that book, touching on the heart of the faith, I glimpsed the depth, the power, and the intellectual appeal of Christianity and the Bible.

It was in reading Stott that I sensed, for the first time, that to conform my life to the Bible would be, not the grim constraining grind I had come to imagine, but rather the fountain of deep joy and a sense of purpose.

let's talk about it

Oh God. The "bishops" in England say there needs to be "discussion" "around" the "issue" of human sexuality.

And we all know what that means. Along with a steady programme ('cuz, you know, it's the UK) of establishing facts on the ground (a vociferous gay-rights dean here and there, a nudge-nudge-wink-wink "celibate" bishop or three), England will be bored stiff with 3-5 years of commissions and position papers and "study groups" and "reflections" and "theological" rationales (read: -izations) and meetings programmed to reach preordained conclusions using the Indaba-Delphi technique, culminating in a majority-voted policy change, followed by half-hearted calls for "living into the differences" in our "common life" so that we can continue to "honor" our "diversity" and "witness" to our "unity" in "the Christ" (or "Christa," depending).

Oh, crap. Now I'm almost out of scare quotes. I think I'll use my last two sets thusly:

First, to say that, you know, some things just don't need "discussing," especially when calling for discussion is itself an act of disobedience ("Did God really say...?" ←regular ol' quotes--still got plenty of those!).

It's like the husband who says there needs to be a discussion around the issue of monogamy in the marriage.

"Um, no, actually, my dear husband, we do NOT 'need to talk about this' and if you ever bring it up again you'll be staying in a motel eating frozen dinners for the rest of your life. For now, I think the sofa is the perfect place for you to reflect more deeply on how the psychologically unhealthy constraints of an outdated and repressive morality, as you put it, might actually be a good thing for you in the long run. Consider it your own, personal listening process."

And, second, I'm just going to put scare quotes around "Anglican Communion" and call it a day. Because daily, this creature I onced loved grows more and more into a parody of itself...

all out of bubblegum

My favorite line ever from a film is from an odd, low-budget (seeming) 1988 SF/horror flick directed by John Carpenter called They Live.

(Incidentally, They Live also has the longest fight scene of any movie I've ever seen).

The hero is a drifter who stumbles upon some high-tech sunglasses that allow him to see aliens that have infiltrated human society. Kind of like X-ray vision. You can't see the aliens without the sunglasses.

Anyway, the line. The hero walks into a bank wearing the sunglasses and holding a shotgun. He declares: "I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass. And I'm all out of bubblegum."

He then proceeds to blow away all the aliens. It's awesome. Check it out for yourself.

(I've always had the nagging feeling that the guy is actually just experiencing a psychotic break and there aren't really any aliens. But it's a great line anyway.)

That line popped into my head as I was reading the book by David Bentley Hart, Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable Enemies.

The book came to my attention when it received this year's Michael Ramsey prize in Theology.

Hart is writing in part to unmask the popular historical fallacies used by people trying to tear down the Christian faith and replace it with the Grand Narrative of "modernism." He seems to have been goaded to the task by certain strains of atheism:

I can honestly say that there are many forms of atheism that I find far more admirable than many forms of Christianity or of religion in general. But atheism that consists entirely in vacuous arguments afloat on oceans of historical ignorance, made turbulent by storms of strident self-righteousness, is as contemptible as any other form of dreary fundamentalism. And it is sometimes difficult, frankly, to be perfectly generous in one’s response to the sort of invective currently fashionable among the devoutly undevout, or to the sort of historical misrepresentations it typically involves.

But, as evidenced in the quote above, it is Hart's rapier-sharp writing style as much as his thoughtful historical reflections that get me whooping with delight.

For example, Hart contrasts the erroneous assumptions and lack of rigorous engagement of the foaming-at-the-mouth "New Atheists" with their far more worthy predecessors in the early days: "genuinely imaginative and civilized critics, such as Celsus and Porphyry, who held the amiable belief that they should make some effort to acquaint themselves with the object of their critique."

He turns to Sam Harris's The End of Faith:

[This] is also a book that, in itself, should not detain anyone for very long. It is little more than a concatenation of shrill, petulant assertions, a few of which are true, but none of which betrays any great degree of philosophical or historical sophistication."

Ouch. That's gotta leave a mark.

Sometimes it's the driveby turns of phrase that pack the hardest punch:

• Rather than court absurdity, however...
• All of this, however, is slightly beside the point. Judged solely as a scientific proposal, Dennett's book [Breaking the Spell] is utterly inconsequential--in fact, it is something of an embarassment--but its methodological deficiencies are not my real concern here.
• In short, The End of Faith is not a serious--merely a self-important--book, and merits only cursory comment.
• If Harris's argument holds any real interest here, it is as an epitome--verging on unintentional parody--of contemporary antireligious rhetoric at its most impassioned and sanctimonious.
• This is one reason why the historical insight and intellectual honesty of Nietzsche were such precious things, and why their absence from so much contemporary antireligious polemic renders it so depressingly vapid.

Let's just say, there's a lot more where that came from. This is intellectual Mortal Kombat at its best.

Chesterton would be proud.

Anyway, I am enjoying this book, perhaps a little more than charity would allow.

Let me just say, I'm glad I'm not the one staring down Hart's barrel.

interfaith anxiety

I got the chance to play tourguide for the first time in ages this weekend.

A delegation from my alma mater, Virginia Theological Seminary, stopped by in Tokyo on their way home from a week or so in Hong Kong and China. I took them to meet the VP of St. Paul's University, helped them navigate around town, found a nice Japanese restaurant for dinner, showed them the hospital and the Ginza shopping district, etc.

It was fun to show off my city and my hospital. And I really enjoyed spending time with my old New Testament professor, Dr. John Yieh. He's a Taiwanese Presbyterian minister and scholar. Brilliant, humble, orthodox, irenic, sweet all the way around.

His classroom was one of the few places at VTS where I felt like I even recognized the theological landscape. Same gospel. Same sense of humility and reverence in front of the Scriptures. Same organic connection with the previous 2,000 years of Christian history. Same delight in the Word made Flesh and dwelling among us--a delight which yearns to be shared, is rightfully shared, is an act of profound love to share.

There were also two new VTS graduates along, a husband and wife, both newly ordained. I enjoyed meeting them and spending time with them. But I also realized, or reconfirmed, that we are not co-religionists. The faith that these two young Episcopalians are eager to go out and proclaim is, as far as I can see, not the faith once received.

It's certainly not the faith that turned my life around. It seems to be an amalgam of feminist liberation and a Democratic Party agenda, clever scepticism, hip-ness, and generous heaps of affirmation. God doesn't make garbage.

Well, interfaith relationships are important in our shrinking global village. So I guess I can hang out with Episcopalians from time to time.

Just don't bring up the subject of religion!