Two unrelated incidents from my years in the church recently came to mind. The first was when I worked for the Quakers and was not active as a congregational pastor. The church we attended at the time had a "young adults" Sunday morning class (these young adults were all in their late 30's, but who was counting? -- I guess the group had been together as a class since they truly were young adults), and I was asked to lead it. I forget now what the topic or book study was to be at the time (I did several with them), but a week or two before I was to begin as their "teacher," a couple from the group came up to me and expressed their appreciation that I was going to step into the role, saying, "so you can help us know how to get into heaven."
The second incident occurred a number of years later. A young couple in the church where I was the pastor at the time celebrated the birth of their first child. Visiting them in the hospital, I saw their joy first-hand. The mother made a reference to having the newborn baptized. This surprised me because both she and her husband were active members in the church, and the whole movement that eventuated in our denomination, dating back to the American frontier, included two straight-forward tenets regarding its practice: Communion (the Lord's Supper, or as some traditions refer to it, the Eucharist) was a part of every worship service; and, baptism took the form of immersion for those who made a confession of faith that "Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God." In other words, we practice "believer's baptism." Both tenets were intended to demonstrate a "restoration" of the New Testament faith and practice of the first followers of Jesus.
Well, the new mom in this case wasn't entirely on board. Maybe we should baptize the infant "just to be sure." It didn't happen, unless they took him to another church that did practice infant baptism.
It has been a very long time since I considered the Christian faith as a means to "go to heaven." (Those who have/had the misfortune of attending years worth of church meetings might, in fact, hold an alternate view of what it's all about!)
One reason I don't think of the faith as a path to heaven is that there is an implication that God can be manipulated. Sprinkling water on a baby doesn't convince God that if the baby should meet an early, tragic end, he/she "goes to heaven." Baptism is symbolic of giving one's life to following Jesus. In my mind, part of that is trusting God to do the right thing -- in all circumstances. This is important for parents of newborns to keep in mind, especially if they have been baptized, themselves. The water comes from a faucet in the church building, supplied by a well, or the city.
Similarly, believing an accepted list of doctrines, or not saying bad words, consuming alcohol, dancing, playing cards, or (name someone else's sin) doesn't force God's hand when the time of transition comes about. "You're stuck, God. I played by the rules. You have to let me in." (I would dare say that most folks who claim they live by the Ten Commandments, or that the commandments make or break one's ability to get their heavenly ticket punched, can't even list all ten of them.)
The fact is, there is NOTHING we can do to "earn" God's grace.
This all came up because last Sunday at the church we now attend, the text for the day was the story of the woman with the 12-year hemorrhage who approached Jesus, touched "the hem of his cloak," and was healed. Jesus felt power going out from himself when the woman touched him, asked who did it, and when she confessed, he said, "Your faith has made you well (or whole, or healed you)."
The temptation in preaching from this text is to make it strictly an example of Jesus' ability to give physical healing, or a "cure," for some malady or disease. It's also possible to take it a step further to say something along the lines of "Jesus can help you when you're feeling low, or things don't go your way, or when you're confused about something."
OK, if that's what you want to do.
To me the story gets at the heart of what the Christian faith really is all about. While the woman was bleeding all those years, with no relief, her very life was slipping away. She turned to Jesus to get her life back, and she got it.
Now, the notion of "life" has many dimensions, it seems to me. Simply breathing and having a heartbeat may provide a definition of life, but likely most people would not trade places with someone on a ventilator. The person on the ventilator is "alive," but is hardly experiencing life.
Jesus spoke of the "realm of God," or the "realm of heaven." OK, his words are translated as "kingdom," but let's not limit Jesus only to male-dominant images. The "realm of God/heaven"
was described by Jesus as being "at hand." Or, he sometimes said it "is like..." In other words, the realm is now. It's here. You can live in it, you can embrace it, you can be defined by it.
This is what the story of the bleeding woman teaches: grabbing hold of Jesus and what he taught/stood for/exemplified gives one the life found in the realm of God/heaven. Indeed, it gives life as God intended -- abundant and everlasting for all of Creation.
Assuming one's place in heaven while doubting the same place for others does not fit in God's realm.
Assuming scarcity of the earth's blessings and the need to accumulate them at the expense of others is not a heavenly realm virtue.
Assuming religious postures and affecting religious jargon while embracing cultural norms that separate, alienate, and encourage an attitude of "me first," isn't "touching the hem of Jesus' garment."
The values of agape love, seeking what is best for others, generosity and sharing, compassion (not just feeling "sorry," but entering into the situation of those who suffer), and yes, sacrifice, are life-giving. They are realm living. They heal us. They make us whole. They introduce "salvation" into our very being.
Again, I don't worry about what happens next, after death, because:
a. I can't do anything about it;
b. I trust God to do what's right;
c. What God does in all circumstances is right.
What I can concern myself with, and what I can do, is seek to grab hold of Jesus and be made whole by his touch, stepping into the realm of God, the realm of heaven, the realm of LIFE.
