Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi

I shared this old Latin phrase of the church with our praise team last night at our rehearsal for the Sunday morning worship service.  Roughly translated it means something like, "Law of prayer/worship, law of faith."  It's shorthand for basically, "show me how you pray/worship, and I'll show you what you believe."

So I challenged our group to think about every minute thing we do on a Sunday morning--what are we demonstrating that we believe...

...when we gather on a Sunday morning for worship instead of a Saturday night or some other day/night of the week?

...when we sing songs with lots of "I's" and "me's" in them but very few "we's" and "us's" in them?

...when we take Communion/the Eucharist/the Lord's Supper every few weeks?

...when we turn up our microphones so loudly that we cannot hear the congregation singing?

...when we welcome visitors (or don't welcome visitors) at the doors of our church building?

...when we invite people (or don't invite people) to the altar for prayer?

...when we read the scriptures out loud in the service?

...when we set up a 'stage' in front of an 'audience' for 'worship'?

...when we have a time of 'fellowship' in which we encourage everyone to say hello to one another during the service?

...when we bring drinks into the worship service?

...when we tithe and give offerings to the church and those in need?

Lex orandi, Lex credendi.  Show me how you worship/pray and I will show you what you believe.  Every little thing that we do in our worship services--even the subtle or non-conscious things, even the type of building we choose to meet in--shape our theology, shape what we believe about God and our relationship to him and others.  People often think you get theology from the sermon, and maybe occasionally from the songs you sing on Sunday morning.  The fact of the matter is that for the average Christ, most of our theology is shaped by the countless subtle, small, individually insignificant things that we do (and don't do) in worship.

When I abstain from taking my latte in the worship service, I am doing so because of a subtle already formed in me concerning reverence for God.

When I choose to welcome a visitor at the door of our church, not simply by handing them a bulletin, but by inviting them to a seat in the service, I do so because of an already formed belief about the hospitality of Christ's Church.

More passively, when I see technicians in the church who run lights, sound, and computers, but who do not participate in singing the songs of worship, tithing, or taking the Eucharist, I am sent a distinct--though subtle--message about God and his church.

The very name of the place where we meet sends a theological message--like whether or not the name has the word "church" anywhere in it, or is a bit more hip like "Crossroads" (I only use this name because I see it everywhere--not trying to bash it).

So how about you?  What credendi (beliefs) do you and your church's orandi (worship and prayer) demonstrate?

Christian Craziness

Does all of the absolute insanity and sometimes downright violence that masquerades under the banner of Jesus ever just get to you?  It's been really getting to me lately.

Harold Camping predicts the end of the world and rapture on May 21, and (for the second time) gets it wrong....

Thousands of Christians expecting to be raptured out of the world and into heaven give massive amounts of money to avowed atheists to watch over their pets during the coming tribulation....

Steven Anderson of Faithful Word Baptist Church in Arizona condemns men for peeing while sitting down and prays for the death of President Obama....

Premillennial dispensationalist Christians lobby and sends millions of dollars to AIPAC, CUFI, and other pro-Israeli organizations that further programs of forced deportation of Palestinians and the illegal occupation of their homes and lands....

I remember back when Jerry Falwell announced to the world that Hurricane Katrina was the result of homosexuality in America.....

You can find Youtube videos of Christians burning NIV, NRSV, and other non-KJV versions of the Bible....

The pickets at military funerals, saying the deaths are the result of pro-gay policies in the US....

I just recently saw several people on facebook lamenting that they were "still here" (i.e. the rapture didn't happen)....


I just jumped on Google's search engine and typed in "Why are Christians so" (a little trick I picked up from Leonard Sweet).  Do you want to know the options that Google gives me for finishing out that search?
...fake...
...divided...
...mean...
...ignorant...
...annoying...


These are apparently some of the most popular searches on the Inter and, you know what, it's kinda hard to blame people for asking these kinds of questions when we see such lunacy in our midst, isn't it?

How did it get this bad?  How come we have people who claim the name of Christ who obviously know so little about who he is, what he came to go, what he's about and what he's not about?

You know, I've noticed (at least) one common thread that binds much of the above-mentioned lunacy together; it's something I've only notice in recent years: All of the things that I've mentioned here are the product primarily of independent churches--churches or ministries that have broken away from or were never associated with a denomination or established church tradition--usually independent baptist or non-denominational congregations/ministries.


You might wonder why that matters at all.

When churches separate themselves from the established traditions of the classical Christian faith, they break themselves off from any theological or practical accountability.  There is no one inside the church tradition of Harold Camping to challenge him when he makes a doomsday prediction, because he has cut himself off from the body.  There is no one inside the church tradition of Steven Anderson or the late Jerry Falwell or the countless dispensationalist pastors in independent baptist and non-denominational churches across America to challenge them when they make their crazy or bigoted or down-right hateful assertions, because they have cut themselves off from the body.


There is an epidemic of independence in American Christianity today, and I have come to truly believe that much of the craziness, lunacy, and bigotry that masquerades under the banner of Jesus is enabled by the fact that our congregations and independent ministries have cut themselves off from the rest of the body that was designed to, among other things, keep them accountable to the truth.

So how do we correct this?  For one thing, stop starting new independent churches!  That phrase "independent church" ought to be an oxymoron to us anyway--if the church is anything it is an interdependent community, a body with many members (who are not just 'spiritually' connected, but who strive for actual connectedness and accountability).  Instead let's try working within (despite the many problems) our existing traditions and denominations (and there are plenty).  At least when you are a part of the Roman Catholic Church, the United Methodist Church, the Episcopal Church, the Lutheran Church, the Church of the Nazarene, etc. you have checks and balances in place.  No one independent pastor or ministry organizer can spout of craziness or bigotry without being checked by others within their tradition.

And if we can learn to work within the existing traditions and denominations (as flawed as they are), then maybe we can even start working toward ecumenical unity--it was Jesus himself, after all, who prayed "that they be one." (John 17)  Obviously there is much work to be done, but separating ourselves into ever-increasing numbers of independent churches has created the environment for lunacy and heresy to spread throughout American Christianity, and the only check for it is the body of Christ functioning as the body of Christ.  Just saying "the Bible is all we need" won't cut it (just google "Steven Anderson" to see as much proof as you will need about that).

The ancient church fathers used to say, "You cannot have God as Father without the Church as Mother."  Unless we want to see more unchecked lunacy and violence spread under the banner of the name of Jesus, we would be wise to heed these strong words.

Heaven Is For Real

So I'm still in the giddy phase with my brand new Kindle--downloading and reading books left and right--and last night I downloaded a copy of a book that I have to say I am a little embarrassed to admit that I read. The day I got my Kindle as a graduation gift, I downloaded all kinds of sample books from Amazon (a great feature of the device; you  usually get the first chapter of a book).  One I downloaded at the recommendation of a family member was this book entitled Heaven Is For Real.  I'll confess that I downloaded the sample just to be respectful, not because I seriously thought I'd read it.  That is until last night...

I picked up the Kindle to read a bit of G.K. Chesterton last night, and after reading about a chapter of Orthodoxy, browsed through some of my samples.  I read through the sample chapter of this book.  Here's the DL: A Wesleyan pastor out of a small town (2,000 people) in Nebraska tells the story of his four-year-old son who, after undergoing an emergency appendectomy on his ruptured appendix, began telling his parents of seeing and experiencing heaven during his surgery.

I know, I know.  If you're like me you exit out of this blog right now and go about the rest of your day, thinking a little bit less of me than you did before you checked out this blog.  That's OK by me; I'm still processing what I think about this book, too, but I wanted to get it out there for conversation.

I'm not sure why I bought the book (although it was pretty cheap through the Kindle): maybe it was the fact that the preface included praises from both a General Superintendent and a District Superintendent of the Wesleyan Church, and I was a little curious as to whether or not this sister denomination was falling into some pseudo-Christian fantasy; maybe it was something else--but in any case I downloaded the book, intending to skim through the first few chapters and then head to bed.

At 2AM I finished the book, and only then did I head to bed.  I couldn't put it down.

Now, I've only ever read one other book on a near-death experience and it was awful.  I hesitate to give the title because it was a book given to me by a dear Christian friend.  But the fact of the matter was that it was the most gnostic and truly anti-Christian thing I'd ever read: stories about being a floating spirit, floating throughout the universe, soaking in all knowledge (Greek = gnosis), being happy about being free from the evil body (denial of the resurrection), talking about the transmigration of souls from heaven to earth and then back to heaven again...it was just awful.  I couldn't finish it all.

This book wasn't anything like that.  I kept waiting for it to turn into that, but it didn't.  It was a rather simple account, by the pastor dad, of the kinds of things his 4-year-old son revealed to him over the course of months and years about his experience while on the operating table.  Things like: seeing Jesus, who is the only one in heaven who wears purple, and who has "markers" in his hands and feet; getting a hug from his sister, who was a miscarriage his parents never told him about; meeting his great-grandfather, Pop, who had passed away 30 years before Colton's birth, while "sitting" next to the Holy Spirit; giving his parents a detailed picture of where they were and what they were doing while he was undergoing his operation, saying he could look down on them and see them.

As the dad processed what his son was telling him (in little spurts, here and there, over the course of many months), he kept going back to the scriptures and trying to reconcile what he said with what he found there.  Perhaps more than any other aspect of the book, this kept my attention.  The dad, who as I mentioned is a pastor, did not take his son's experience and then interpret the scriptures in light of it; he kept going back to the scriptures and trying to interpret his son's experience in light of them.  At times I thought, Well if he just had a more sophisticated knowledge of that passage in Revelation, he would realize that this imagery is not to be taken literally--Jesus does not necessarily wear a crown in his exalted state, for instance.  I was checked (I think by the Spirit), though, every time these thoughts would arise.

The question kept coming back to me, and I continue to wrestle with it today: Why is it so hard to believe that this little boy had an experience or vision of what he understood as 'heaven' (and what might be more accurately referred to, as Paul referred to it, as 'Paradise,' the place where believers await the resurrection of the dead?)  Do I really believe that Paul had such an experience? (See 2 Cor. 12:1-13, where Paul is most likely using a rhetorical function ["I know  man..."] to describe an experience he himself had.)  What about John the Revelator?  Was his Apocalypse simply a literary production, or did he really see through a "door" in heaven that stood open? (Rev 4)  Why am I so quick to dismiss the possibility?

The boy's story never undermined the doctrine of the resurrection; he described distinct visions of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; after the experience, his dad describes how deeply concerned he was that people "have Jesus in their heart," because, he said, they couldn't go to heaven without having Jesus in their heart.  This was no unitarian, universalistic, gnostic portrait of the afterlife; it was something, at least in my judgment, fairly agreeable to the visions of Paul and John in the scriptures.

So, I don't know....  Now I'm just starting to ramble.  As you can probably tell (if you've even read this far), I'm just kind of processing all of this "out loud" as it were.  But I'm curious: Have you read the book or heard this boy's story in the news?  If so, what do you think?  How much credence should we give to it?  Is there something I missed that really undermines its congeniality with the scriptures?  I would truly welcome feedback as I continue to process all of this.

All I know right now is that it is as if I didn't realize I was thirsty for something like this until I had been refreshed by reading it.  Now I realize that my sensitivity to such stories--even the ones we find in the scriptures--was...well, how to put it... dry.  I read them, accepted them intellectually, but never truly considered them.  And maybe that's a good thing--not to put too much credence in these obscure passages and experiences.  But maybe I've neglected these things too much?  Maybe....

Your thoughts?

The Three Men & the Kingdom: A Parable inspired by this morning's sermon

There once was a king who ruled over a vast, ever-expanding kingdom.  The borders of his kingdom were large and grew regularly as outlying territories gratefully accepted the king's lordship over their lands and his protection of their borders.  He was a good king, a benevolent king, and his kingdom spread through charity, not through conquest.

There were also three men who lived in a village in one of the outlying territories.  All of these men had heard of this benevolent king, but they each reacted to their knowledge of him in different ways.  The first man who knew of the king always spoke well of him.  He knew how the king loved his citizens and how he took care of their lands, so this man went around telling everyone in his outlying territory how good this king was.  This man could speak nothing but praise for the king, but when it came to the way he managed his own affairs he was anything but like the king.  He treated his family and his fellow villagers poorly; he mismanaged his meager wealth and land, selfishly hording all he had for himself and diminishing what little he had in the process.  He knew of the good king, and spoke well of him to everyone he met, yet he acted nothing like the king.

Then there was a second man who lived in this same outlying territory.  He also knew of the good king, but thought neither good nor ill about him.  He was indifferent toward this king, because he seemed distant.  The king was not the ruler of the man's territory, so he felt no need to acknowledge him in any way.  Nevertheless this man managed his affairs exactly the way the king had told the citizens of his own kingdom to manage them.  He cared for his family and for others, offering them free services of his trade, and giving to anyone who was in need.  He managed his meager wealth and his land well, seeing that all he had was used for the benefit of those around him.  He cared little for the good king, but he acted just as the king would in almost all things.

Then there was a third man who also lived in this outlying territory.  He knew of the good king, as well, and both spoke well of him and managed his affairs the way the king instructed his citizens to manage them.  Like the first man, he was constantly speaking well of the king to all those of his village.  Like the second man, he also managed his affairs in the way the king instructed the citizens of his kingdom to manage them.  He was just like the good king; he loved the king and his kingdom, and also ordered his life in a way that imitated the king.

One day, the good king's emissaries came to the outlying territory where the three men lived and announced to them that the good king was expanding his kingdom and rule into their territory.  This was good news because the territory had been threatened by various other clans and all knew that the good king could protect them from these threats.  The emissaries told the people of the outlying territory that they were free to leave the territory if they did not want to be ruled by the good king, and that there were only two stipulations for those who wanted to stay: first, they must acknowledge the absolute rule of the good king--they could pledge allegiance to no other; second, they must order their lives according to the law of the kingdom--the only law being that they must live as a servant to all their fellow citizens.

The first man heard this news and was very distraught.  While he spoke well of the king and had no difficulty pledging allegiance to him and his kingdom, he knew that his life would have to radically change in order to meet the second stipulation of citizenship--becoming a servant to all.  He almost turned away and chose to live outside the kingdom for this reason, but he eventually reluctantly chose to embrace citizenship in the new kingdom and strove to mend his ways.

The second man heard this news and received it with joy and only a little reluctance.  While he had never acknowledged the king before, and had some difficulty doing so now, as soon as he saw how the king's law encouraged him to live the kind of generous life he was already living, he quickly consented to acknowledging the king's rule over his lands.

The third man heard this news and received it with great joy.  The king he had loved and praised all his life was now lord over his lands, and the life the man had always lived was now acknowledged and encouraged by the kingdom's law of love.  He was the first man in the village to consent to the king's rule, and many followed his lead because of the sheer joy they saw in him.

Therefore, on the day when the kingdom fully subsumes our territory, it will be better for the man who lives like the King and does not praise Him than for the man who praises the King and does not live like Him.  Better still will it be for the one who both praises and lives like the King.

A Brief Review of Rob Bell's "Love Wins"

Well I recently read through Rob Bell's Love Wins: A Book about Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived--the most controversial Christian book for...err..probably the next two or three months (after which time we'll have something else to argue about).

It's stirred up more controversy and media attention that I think anyone anticipated, and yet, honestly, I thought that Bell has written more compelling stuff than this (anyone remember Velvet Elvis?).  As promised in this title, I'll try to keep this a brief review.  (Click HERE for another very helpful review from Relevant Magazine.)

Bell got lots of media attention as well as the stink eye from several conservative evangelicals for seeming to promote "universalism"--or what some mean by the term "universalism."  Basically Bell caused an uproar because, as some claim, he says that everyone will end up turning to God for salvation in the end.  Is this accusation valid, though?

The short answer is, "yes"; the longer answer is, "well, kinda."  The critical answer is: Bell is not very consistent with himself throughout even this one book.

This is my main critique: Although Bell is a thoughtful communicator, with a pastor's heart, and a love for the scriptures, he simply does not think very carefully.  He spends the majority of the book building a case that essentially says that, in the end--at the very ultimate end of all things--all people will finally desire to choose God and will thus be saved (which is at least one way of defining "universalism," though not the way I'm sure Bell would define it).  Then the very last brief chapter is all about a call for urgency in the present--today is the day of salvation!  ...or is it tomorrow?  ...two hundred years down the road?  ...a few millennia from now?  Bell is inconsistent here.  The vast majority of his book screams--though not always in so many words (he is an elusive writer)--'God will win us all back in the end!'  But the final appeal is: 'Accept the Gospel now!'  Bell ends his book by saying that "Jesus reminds us in a number of ways that it is vitally important we take our choices here and now as seriously as we possibly can because they matter more than we can begin to imagine." (p.197)  They do?  How much does my decision to reject Jesus now really matter if I know that in the end everyone is necessarily going to come to accept him?  At best this is simply naivete; at worst it is a very misleading notion about God's love and human freedom.  As Bell tries to affirm throughout his book, God grants us the freedom to reject him.  Bell wants to suggest, however, that none of us will reject him forever.  How truly meaningful is my acceptance or rejection of Christ (and how real is my freedom) now if in the end we all know that we're all going to accept him?  It seems to me like Bell recognized that you simply cannot get around the call to urgent repentance when considering Jesus' message--"Repent and believe the good news, for the kingdom of heaven is near!"  His whole book works against this urgent appeal, however, making the last chapter sound very forced and fake.  'It is urgent that you accept Christ,' says Bell, 'but if you don't, you'll get do-overs for the rest of eternity.'  What part of this message do you think will stick in the listener's ears?

A praise for Bell, then:  One very important pastoral and theological point that Bell makes throughout the book is stated clearly here: "To say it again, eternal life is less about a kind of time that starts when we die, and more about a quality and vitality of life lived now in connection to God." (p.59)  Bell wants to get away from the narrow definition of eternal life as "what we get when we die."  No, says Bell.  Eternal life is what Christ offers to us here and now, and it will extend throughout eternity.  But it begins now.  Well put!  This is much the point that I think C.S. Lewis's The Great Divorce (which, also to his credit, Bell cites at the end of the book, in the Further Reading section) was written to make.  As Bell says elsewhere, ultimately "we get what we want. . . .  If we want hell, if we want heaven, they are ours." (p.116, 118)  Heaven and hell are not simply two desinations: they are two ways of living that begin here and now and are embraced by each and every step we take in this life.  I can thoroughly affirm this.

On a different note, Bell tries to call the tradition of the church to his aid throughout the central 'argument' (if there is a central argument) of the book.  For instance, he writes: "In the third century the church fathers Clement of Alexandria and Origen affirmed reconciliation with all people.  In the fourth century, Gregory of Nyssa and Eusebius believed this as well.  In their day, Jerome claimed that 'most people,' Basil said the 'mass of men,' and Augustine acknowledged that 'very many' believed in the ultimate reconciliation of all people to God.  Central to their trust that all would be reconciled was the belief that untold masses of people suffering forever doesn't bring glory to God. . . .  To be clear, again, an untold number of serious disciples of Jesus across hundreds of years have assumed, affirmed, and trusted that no one can resist God's pursuit forever, because God's love will eventually melt even the hardest of hearts."  (p.107-108)  Bell attempts to paint a picture of a "wide stream" of orthodoxy embracing the basic stance he takes in his book--namely that no one will choose hell forever, and eventually God will win us all back.  This is simply not true.  Once again, Bell is at best naive here, and at worst ingenuous.  The fact of the matter is that none of the Church Fathers he has here mentioned (and mentioned only in the briefest of passing, without any citation whatsoever) would affirm Bell's stance in this book.  The notions that Bell is suggesting in this book are almost exclusively products of the modern era (the past 250 years or so), and while that should not cause us to dismiss Bell's argument, the fact of the matter is that he cannot call the "wide stream" of orthodoxy to his aid here.  Anyone who has taken an introductory course in historical theology could affirm as much.  Augustine and Rob Bell do not say the same thing--believe me.

Another praise for Bell, then.  At one point he comments: "[I]t is our responsibility to be extremely careful about making negative, decisive, lasting judgments about people's eternal destinies." (p.160)  I want to affirm this point and say that many of us have speculated in this area far too much.  Whenever we speak about the eternal destiny of a person, we usurp the judgment seat of Christ and attempt to place ourselves upon it.  Christians may certainly have a measure of certainty concerning their own ultimate salvation, and those who overtly reject Christ and his kingdom throughout their lives may certainly earn our disapproval, but to make final judgments about anyone's eternal destiny is idolatry.  We set ourselves on Christ's judgment seat when we do this, and in dethroning him we only call down judgment upon ourselves.  Let us never forget the simple words of Christ: "Judge not, lest ye be judged."  A huge warning to us disciples if ever there was one.

Finally, let me also say that while I have some significant reservations about this book, I am always thrilled to read Bell because I will always find an attempt to actively dialog with the scriptures.  This is my highest praise for Bell: he seriously wrestles with the Bible.  For this reason, I would be willing to dialog with him about anything.  If he wants to suggest universalism (or whatever he wants to call it)--fine, let's talk about it, so long as he is dedicated to remaining faithful to the scriptures.  I do not think that Bell is always the best interpreter of scripture (some of his Greek and Hebrew word studies in this book were really off the wall, in all honesty), but the fact that he still feels strongly about being in dialog with the scriptures is very encouraging to me.

I hope you'll take time to read the book when you get a chance; and I welcome a continued dialog about it in the comments section below.  Thanks!

Faith Comes By Hearing

Lately I've been listening to the scriptures on mp3 instead of reading them. . . There's something about not being in control of the text, not handling it, not going back and forth, but rather just letting it wash over you aurally that is powerful. I recommend it! These texts were meant to be heard at least as often as read. (Check out FaithComesByHearing.com for free audio Bible downloads in several translations.)

 You'll be surprised, too, how much scripture you can listen to in a short period of time.  Listening through the whole Bible in a year--or whatever timetable you may have embraced--would probably seem a much less daunting task than reading through it in the same amount of time.

Just a recommendation . . . .

What About the State's Reaction to Same-Sex Marriage?

NYS Senator Diane Savino speaks on the Marriage Equality bill


I have written a lengthy blog elsewhere (click HERE) on what I believe to be a biblical reaction to homosexual relationships.  I think that the Christian tradition, founded upon the scriptures of both the Old and New Testaments, is quite consistent and clear: homosexual relationships are counter to God's intentions for humanity, and as such are to be rejected by the Church as sinful.  Though I did not go into detail in that blog about gay marriage, the natural outgrowth of this position would obviously be the belief that the Church ought not to condone or conduct same-sex marriages.

This is and ought to be, I believe, the stance of the Church.  But what about the stance of the State?  How should a secular nation such as the United States respond to some of its citizens' desire for legal same-sex marriage?  (As an important caveat let me simply say, despite the Christian/Deist heritage of our founding fathers, the Constitution of the US explicitly denies the State a role in regulating the religious beliefs and expressions of its citizens: for this reason I have referred to the US as a "secular nation."  I know this is a contentious point to some conservatives, but the often referenced argument concerning America's "heritage" is simply a moot point in relation to this fact.)

The above video is a 7 minute clip of a speech given by a New York State Senator, who argued for a bill that would legalize same-sex marriage in New York.  I encourage you to watch the video before reading my brief opinions below:





DID YOU WATCH THE VIDEO???








In my opinion . . . 
I  greatly appreciate this senator's statements concerning the prerogative of religious institutions, like her own Roman Catholic Church, to deny to ordain or recognize same-sex marriage.  I think she has here rightly understood the Constitution's insistence that the government stay out of the business of religious institutions.  On the other hand, I see her point when she argues that the United States--and each individual State, such as New York--does not have such a prerogative.  (Of course this is the very reason why some conservatives have pushed to make an amendment to the constitution that would define marriage explicitly as between a man and woman--a statement that as of yet does not exist in the Constitution.)  So in the end--while I would not have expressed my opinion in all the ways this senator has--I would have to agree with the basic conclusion: Religious institutions like the various denominations of the Christian Church have the right to deny recognition of same-sex marriage, and have the right to refuse to conduct same-sex weddings (a right that I believe the Church should exercise!); however, the Federal Government and State Governments of the United States of America do not have such a right, and have therefore breached their own Constitution in discriminating in this way.


I have to admit that this conclusion is difficult for me to swallow.  I do not want it to be this way, but I feel that this is the only consistent conclusion available to me.  This is, of course, a good example of why my primary identity is that of a Christian, not an American.  Of course I am also a citizen of this country, and am grateful to be one.  This is, however, an area where my allegiance to Christ comes into conflict with my allegiance to my nation; and when such a conflict occurs my allegiance to Christ must win out every time.  I do not--nor do I believe any follower of Christ should--condone same-sex marriage; but I understand why the nation within which I find myself must.  To not do so is a breach of its Constitution.  Since my allegiance is to a King and a Kingdom, not to a President and a Constitution, I am not interested in changing the Constitution of the United States of America; I am interested in enacting the prayer my Master taught me to pray: "Thy Kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."  The Church must stay strong here, holding fast to the biblical witness on this issue, even as we live within a nation that does not fully embrace the vision of the Kingdom/Reign of God.  The Church needs to focus more attention on better understanding, praying for, and incarnating the Kingdom/Reign of God, and less on trying to change the national Constitution.  The change that the world needs will come through the Kingdom, not through a nation's Constitution.  The Church must exercise its prerogative to discriminate when it comes to sin; the USA has not given itself such a prerogative in the case of same-sex marriage.  We disciples of Christ must always remember: We live in the world, but are not of it.