UnDivisions

“’Do not stop him,’ Jesus said. ‘Anyone who is not against you is for you.’” Luke 9:50

“Can you be a Christian if…” I don’t know how many different ways I have heard that sentence completed. Some of them are sincere, some are trying to find a way to justify personal habits and others want to exclude someone from the Christian club. A mom tells a youth pastor to keep her daughter away from the black boy who is attending the church. October 31 is called the Devil’s Day. Women wear dresses, men wear what they want. True believers vote Republican and liberal is an synonym for atheist.

The church has historically struggled with who is in and who is out. In fact, after being persecuted for 200 years by Rome, Christianity was finally accepted and eventually became the state religion. But it didn’t take long for the church to turn right around and persecute those it deemed heretics. Perhaps we could use a bit more ostracizing to make us see how much we need each other.

I must admit, I joined right in with much of the exclusionary thinking once I starting following Christ in 1972 during the Jesus Movement. Within a couple of years I found myself in a mainstream evangelical church and having to deal with questions about behaviors. I wanted to obey God, didn’t always agree with every line that was drawn, but eventually was within the conservative Evangelical camp.

I was always more moderate than conservative, but still questioned whether many in those mainline and liberal churches were truly following Christ. And, if they didn’t agree that we all needed the Baptism of the Holy Spirit along with the full package of gifts, including tongues, then they were a bit second class. To be sure, they were saved; they just couldn’t accomplish as much or live as abundantly as we Spirit-Filled insiders.

Much of my internal struggle arose from the fact that I earned my income as a pastor in one of those conservative denominations. I am quite certain I would have come to a few different conclusions if I didn’t fear losing position or income. That is not a statement of blame on any organization; it is an observation about my own journey.

Twenty-three years ago my wife and I packed up for North Dakota with our two young boys, ages nine and five. Our next door neighbor was the Evangelical Lutheran pastor in town. He and I became very good friends, and would be to this day if he hadn’t passed away to cancer just four years after we met. My inner thoughts about him reveal much of my struggle at the time.

Bill Jiran was one of the kindest men I have ever met, and perhaps the most Christ-like. He was slow to judge, ready to listen, and deeply loved by his congregation. But I had my doubts about him. This may sound silly. No, scratch that. It is highly mad and crazy. I wondered about his salvation on two counts.

First of all, well, he was Lutheran. I’m not kidding. Lutherans didn’t come to Christ at an altar, in response to a Four Spiritual Laws tract, or through reciting the “sinner’s prayer.” They all got herded through Catechism, were quizzed about the results and confirmed at age 12. From that point on they were “in”, as far as I understood it. The fact that they didn’t like what they called “decision theology” only sealed the deal for me. You can’t be saved if you can’t make a decision; every good born-again boy and girl knows that! (See, not just silly…mad-crazy.)

Second, he was an environmentalist. No kidding! A tree-hugger in North Dakota. Ha! He should have lived where I do now. There are more trees to hug here in the Northwest than stands of durum wheat in North Dakota. Environmentalists had their priorities all mixed up; especially the Christian ones. Trees don’t go to heaven and spotted owls don’t go to hell! It just seems so obvious to someone who had listened to conservative-speak alone for the first sixteen years of his Christian experience.

I loved Pastor Jiran. I wish I could tell him today about my ill-conceived notions of his spiritual life. One day we were visiting in his office and I noticed a Bible on his desk, the “Berkeley Version in Modern English”. I commented that I once had the same translation, but gave it away to a passerby who needed a Bible. It had become one of my favorite versions, but was now out of print.

He took that Bible in his hands and said, “Mark, here, please take mine.” I fumbled, “Bill…no, I..” “Take it,” and he held it out to me. That Bible is open on my desk as I write. I have had it rebound twice since then. I will never part with it, partly because I won’t be able to find another, but mostly to remind me of my wonderful brother in Christ.

It wasn’t the act of giving away the Bible that tugged me closer to where I am today. Most of my Bibles are full of notes, highlights, and a stray address or phone number quickly scribbled on the inside cover. I don’t think Lutheran like to mark the Holy Book up so much. As far as I can tell, Pastor Jiran underlined only three verses.

They are each in green ink-pen, without any notes, thoughtfully underscored. One is Ephesians 6:17, 18a: “And take hold of the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit—which is the word of God—praying in the Spirit on every occasion by way of ceaseless prayer and entreaty.” That’s a Pentecostal verse, not a Lutheran one! (Oh how we would categorize the entire universe given enough time!)

I never had doubted my brother’s salvation; I simply figured he didn’t have the advantages I had of a good Evangelical experience. I was a foolish young man. Now, I am no longer young.