Category: The Church

The Sojourner

On January 21, 2026

In Community, History, Love, Politics, The Church, Theology

The current federal efforts to detain and deport immigrants in order to make our country safer only seem to make things worse and expose the fact that we have immoral tactics without clearly stated goals. For one thing, we again hear of separating children from parents, denial of hearings and basic rights, and physical abuse. After a while one realizes that these practices are very cruel by intention. The goal seems to be to punish and intimidate people if they dare to cross the border illegally. Some think the reign of terror is preparation to scare people away from the polls in 2026. Then there are clear signals that the program is not about the border but removal of certain racial and ethnic groups in order to affirm the racism of white nationalists. There is talk of closing the border to people from the third world, insults directed toward Somalis and a clear preference for white immigrants. Programs designed to save America turn out to be very un-American and unholy.

The government claims the problem is with the immigrants and the need to secure the border. It talks about hardened criminals: murderers and terrorists flooding the streets, making cities danger zones. It calls immigrants vermin. But it is hard to support the tough tactics against parents and children. Why send ICE agents to schools and churches if they looking for criminals?

If a person enters without papers or overstays a visa, one is breaking a law. But it overstates the case to call all 11 million immigrants without papers hardened criminals. Violent abduction and removal do not make us safer and consider the cost in dollars and moral injury. It tends to ignore some important facts.

For one thing, it is not at all clear whether our government—national or state—opposed or allowed such crossings. The immigrants came for work and employers wanted a cheap labor force. It would appear we are complicit in creating an underclass of low paid workers to fill basic needs. A second relevant factor is that this has been going on for decades, involving up to 12 million people. It is estimated that there are 2.5 million dreamers in the US, who have been denied citizenship but can only dream of it. Calling all these people hardened criminals does not reflect either why they came or what they have been doing for decades.

Given what has been happening, it is clear we need a new general policy on immigration. But who is going to draft such a policy? Shall it be written by those who publically express prejudice toward people from the third world? Or, should tactics be developed by those who think it is quite appropriate to employ cruel practices such as separation of children from parents or threats to imprison people in third party countries?

My purpose in discussing this is to explore how our faith offers support for a positive and realistic policy. This is especially needed since the current government and its supporters wish to speak in the language of Christian faith and co-opt its themes, or substitute very negative values for the tradition. Here are four themes in the Bible relevant to forming immigration policy.

The first is that God has created all people: all are of value and are joined together as children of God. This affirmation of equality also appears in the prophetic demand that justice and mercy be applied to all, not just the select few. And it boldly appears in the New Testament in the inclusive nature of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, signifying our new creation. Note that people have not been excluded from baptism because of race, ethnicity, political or class differences, gender or disability. To be sure, the institution of slavery in the American colonies created a serious crisis as to whether slaves should be baptized, since baptism conveyed equality among the members. In the end, the result was to deny equality. Such a decision was wrong both on Christian grounds and on the grounds of the newly affirmed equality in the Constitution.

There is no way to avoid the fact that the Biblical view of creation rejects any attempt to define our nation by racial or class superiority. Yet the goals and slogans of white nationalism keep appearing in the government’s statements on immigration. In recent weeks we hear of excluding people from third world countries, or the denigration of people from Somalia by referring to them as garbage. The special welcome of white South Africans sends a clear message about racial and ethnic preferences, as did the reference to Norwegians being an ideal source of immigrants during the first term of the President.

Given our history, which included the removal of indigenous peoples and the institution of black slavery, the whole issue of who belongs has never been far from the daily news. The Founders set forth a vision of a nation not defined by race, class, ethnicity, or religion, but as we know, they were unable to put it fully into practice. Many had hoped that the blood of those who died in the Civil War would wash away the sin of racial supremacy. It did not. In spite of the suffering of Black people and their noble witness to a peaceful America, we still find that the issue has not been settled. In fact, white supremacy is now advocated by the President and he publically gives support to white supremacy groups. For this reason, Christians must decide whether they will be faithful to Scripture and the teachings of Jesus.

A second theme is the need to show justice and mercy to the poor. This is repeatedly affirmed by the prophets. It is illustrated unambiguously in the parable of the Good Samaritan and the teachings of Jesus. As a consequence, the presence of people in need requires that those in power and those with eyes to see shall come to their aid. Roman Catholics have learned this since childhood. The new Pope chose the name Leo because the other Pope Leo expressed a deep concern for the poor. In a similar way, Protestants live with the commands of Jesus, where he tells us that when we aid the thirsty, we provide water to him.

The challenge is what shall we do about some 11 to 12 million people without legal papers living and working in our midst? The vast majority are not criminals. Most work, pay taxes and send their children to school. Because of their legal jeopardy take on difficult jobs for less—which constitutes an underclass of low paid workers not eligible to vote or receive social security or most government programs. In the name of truthfulness, Christians need to affirm that these people are human beings, beloved by God and people who have certain rights. As the poor of Latin America, they are under multiple Biblical mandates to receive our protection and aid.

A third theme is that love, reconciliation and peace are higher goals than hate, division and violence. This goes to the heart of the Christian faith. At the Memorial Service for Charlie Kirk, after Kirk’s wife declared that she had forgiven the assassin of her husband, the President declared that he disagreed: he hated his opponents. Here was a dramatic challenge to the Christian affirmation that we should love our enemies and seek reconciliation and peace. The problem is that hate only divides and does not settle anything. The world will not be redeemed by hate but by love and the will to be reconciled to those who oppose us. In the first week of December, when denouncing the Somalis, Mr. Trump also warned that we are at a tipping point. I think he is right, though disagree which way we ought to go. One way is the way of white supremacy which can only lead to division and violence; the other way is the way of affirming the humanity of all people, which can lead to inclusivity and peace.

Now is the time to oppose the attempts to denigrate and subordinate racial or ethnic groups. We have seen what this did by the institution of black slavery in America as a means to create cheap labor. The denigration of Hispanic immigrants by branding them as hardened criminals is the first step to the denial of rights and to maximize mistreatment. The government has made it very clear that it wants to define the future in terms of white nationalism. Its attack on equality and inclusion of non-white people violates the affirmations that God has created all people and we are called to live in peace.

A fourth theme is found in a set of passages which relate directly to strangers and sojourners in the ancient world whom we would call immigrants (cf. Ex. 23:9; Dt. 10:19 and Lev. 19: 33-34). They are formulated in a twofold way: On one level we are commanded to show mercy and aid to strangers and sojourners. Recall that the Patriarchs (Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) were nomads who ended up in Egypt during an extended drought and famine. There is also an interesting twist in the translation of two of these passages: in the Revised Standard Version (1952), all three passages refer to strangers. But in the New Revised Standard Version of 1989, the Exodus verse changes to resident aliens and the Leviticus verse changes to alien. This emphasizes the seriousness of the situation: the command has to do with people who are strangers, or aliens or very different and definitely people we don’t know.

On a secondary level, what is unique is about all three passages is how the general idea of helping strangers is personalized. It is placed in the context of Israel’s own history and identity. It is the God who brought you out of the land of Egypt who now commands Israel to show hospitality and mercy to the strangers or aliens because you (Israel) were strangers and aliens. This drastically changes the mandate based on prudential considerations (for example, be kind to people and maybe they will be kind to you). The reason now is that the Israelites were once strangers and sojourners rescued by God. Therefore, out of gratitude to God we are to show kindness and mercy to strangers. Once the mandate is personalized in this way, then remembrance becomes a key to one’s identity. We are to show kindness to sojourners because we were sojourners; to forget is to deny what God has done and who we are. Thus the Book of Deuteronomy defines faithfulness as remembering who you are and sin as forgetting.

If by now you are not seeing fireworks and red flashing lights, then you need to re-examine the structure of the Biblical command. The moral command (i.e., help the sojourner) is placed in the context of Israel’s history and identity. Aid to the sojourner has to do with what God has done for you and who you are, i.e., a sojourner. To make the point from the negative side: if you do not obey this command, then you are denying what God has done for you and who you are. It is to claim that someone else is responsible for your salvation—maybe yourself—and that you are not one in need or the recipient of aid or kindness.

Some will say that all this is very nice, but it is all tied to the Old Testament. That does not shield Christians from this very personal way of being obligated to help the needy. In the New Testament Jesus takes the abstract command of loving one another and declares that aid given to the needy is aid given to him. By not aiding, you are turning your back on Christ.

By now I assume you are able to make the connection of all this to the issue of immigrants, our modern day strangers and sojourners. There is no doubt in my mind that in the present situation, Christians are obligated to provide aid and mercy, because God did so to us and we ourselves were once strangers and aliens from the mercy of God. On what basis can a nation of immigrants turn its back on new immigrants? But I must admit that this still does not give us a blueprint for what to do with 11 million immigrants. That is why we need a new policy with new procedures. Of course Christians must provide aid, but they must also lobby effectively for policies which would establish how many immigrants may be welcomed and how specifically cities, states and the federal government are going to provide the means for housing, health, education and work for people who are already part of our society or who will enter in the future.

It is frightening to consider that many in the government and in support of the current government refuse to place the current crisis in the context of our history and identity. The deliberate attempt to deny major portions of our history seems intended to deny any personal obligation. I can only assume that by denying that we were once strangers and immigrants, such denials are intended to relieve us from helping the poor in our midst.

How strange that seems in light of the celebration of Thanksgiving, but two months ago. There we paused to remember and give thanks to God and others for the ways we are indebted to so many—past and present—for what we have and take for granted. For good reason Deuteronomy insists that we remember what we have received. The key to life is remembering, lest we forget. Once we start forgetting, then we are tempted to think that we are responsible for all that we have and we begin to forget the ways others came to our aid. It is to live under the pretense that the upper half of the society never received help or aid from the government or anyone else. Even worse, it leads to the illusion that we deserve all that we have and that the poor should not receive aid because they do not deserve it. In the face of that temptation to think we did it all ourselves, we are given the command to help the sojourner because we ourselves were once sojourners in need of help.

Christians and Jews: Part I

By Peter Schmiechen

On August 7, 2025

In Love, The Church, Theology

Israel and matters relating to Jews and Christians are in the news: There is the war between Israel and Gaza, the US-Israeli strikes on Iran, Israel’s strikes on enemies in the region and debates in the US regarding antisemitism. In recent days two writers in the New York Times have made impassioned pleas for us to re-think matters: David Brooks thinks that in spite of many problems with Prime Minister Netanyahu’s policies, we ought to support his attempt to eliminate Iran’s efforts at building nuclear weapons (6/26/2025); Bret Stephens thinks it is incorrect and morally wrong to speak of Israel’s war in Gaza as genocide (7/23/2025).

I suspect you have opinions on these matters, as do I, and want to get right at them. But before I do that I need to be clear about my perspective, which only raises a very serious issue: can we talk about our perspectives or the specific issues without making things worse? I realize it may seem indecisive to do this while wars rage. Nevertheless, the stakes are so high that I think it is necessary. So I offer an essay in two parts: the first on finding a point of view; the second on what it might mean on the hot topics.

Part I.

Christians and Jews: Finding a Perspective Without Making Things Worse

How do Christians see their relation to Jews? To get at this topic I want to examine Paul’s view in Romans 9-11. This is a major text in the New Testament for Christians on this subject. Two things are of interest: first, the way Paul speaks of the positive bonds between Christians and Jews and second, the great difficulties Paul has in talking about this very subject.

Paul’s View:

Let us begin by reviewing the crisis at the small and struggling church in Rome. The issue is the relation of Christians and Jews, given their disagreement over whether Jesus is the Messiah, with the Christians claiming that salvation is by grace received by faith. The debate is complicated because it involves Jews, Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians.

At stake are questions like: does faith in Jesus bring with it Jewish traditions and the Law? If Jews reject Jesus as the Messiah, should Christians reject Jews? What about God: Has God rejected those who reject Jesus. In other words, what is the relation of Christians to Jews? Things have heated up and there is serious anger and division.

All this leaves Paul in a conflicted state: as a devout Jew he had joined in the persecution of Christians, resulting in the death of Stephen. Now, he is convinced that God has called him to a mission to the Gentiles while still affirming the legitimacy of Israel in God’s plan of salvation. So he states repeatedly that God has not rejected the Jews. The promises to Israel still stand: Israel is God’s people, a light and blessing to the nations and God will not abandon them. In Christ, God creates a new covenant as a mission to the Gentiles. The covenant of Moses and the covenant of Jesus are two parts of God’s gracious work of salvation.

Paul wants to make peace between these divided factions. By the looks of his message, it appears that he thinks this is possible only if he deals with major and minor issues. But it is very hard to follow his train of thought. While Jews might understand some of the references to the history of Israel, it is not clear how such appeals will be received by Gentiles. But he is convinced, based on his conversion and call to a mission to the Gentiles, that God intends both Jews and Christians to live in peace. This general message is based on three arguments, which I have summarized:

The first is to neutralize some of the claims the two sides are using which might suggest advantage or superiority. So he wants to undercut the possibility of either side boasting about moral or cultic claims. To do this he offers an extended argument that all have sinned and neither can claim advantage.

The second argument begins with reminding the readers that Abraham was declared righteous by faith in the promise of God. Since Abraham lived prior to the Mosaic covenant and the Law, his salvation was not based on the Law or any kind of works of the Law, but on faith in the promise of grace. Given this standard, Paul makes a bold move: the Covenant of Moses and the Law must be interpreted by grace, which is also to say that the Law cannot be fulfilled by works, but by faith. (9:30-32) Once this point is made, Paul can remind us of what was said in chapters 3 and 5; namely, that while we were sinners, Christ died for us. This is the sign that God creates a means to reconcile us to God. Thus, like the Mosaic covenant, the covenant of Jesus offers salvation by grace and not any claim to human achievement. As a result, faith in the grace of God is the ground of salvation for both groups, as expressed in two covenants of grace.

Third, if God has not rejected the covenant with Israel or the Law, and if both Jews and Christians rely upon the mercy of God, the two covenants should exist side by side until God shall reconcile all in a future time. Christians are to accept the presence of Israel as God’s people while continuing their mission to the Gentiles. Both are called to wait peacefully for the final reconciliation.

If Paul’s answer is that God has initiated a new covenant for the inclusion of Gentiles, but retains the covenant with Israel, then it is necessary for Christians to affirm this without qualification. Such affirmation would begin with a rigorous examination of our Scripture, teaching and preaching so as to develop ways to deal best with antisemitic language. But equally important is the task of waiting for God to resolve the tensions between Christians and Jews. Paul’s mandate is for us to live in peace, side by side, and wait for our reconciliation by the mercy of God.

The Problem of Troublesome Baggage

But waiting is hard to do, as we say and do things which often only make things worse. One reason for choosing a passage from Paul is that while it gives us his positive view, it also contains troublesome baggage. In style, Rom. 9-11 presents a challenge. Instead of a closely argued theme, moving forward step by step, things move back and forth in a somewhat haphazard fashion. Is he trying out all kinds of ideas in hope one or more will work? It is very difficult to sort out all the major and minor themes and fit them into a coherent argument. But beyond style, the larger issue is that in seeking to balance things between competing groups, Paul ends up saying things that are damaging to Jews. When they are taken out of context centuries later, they can be seen as supporting hostile language and/or actions against Jews. I think Paul’s answer may in fact help us in our times, but to use it we are going to have to deal with the negative baggage tied to the answer.

Paul is speaking to Jews and Christians in Rome in the first century. This is no time for easy answers. He wants an answer he can live with if faced by Jews, Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians. There is a No and Yes spoken to both sides; neither side wins everything, neither side is destroyed, both sides are affirmed. Consider some of the judgments he makes regarding Jews:

>Israel has stumbled (9:32), but not fallen. (11:11)

>Israel has rejected the new work of God, but God has not rejected Israel. (11:1)

>God has hardened the hearts of Israel until the Gentiles are saved, but all of Israel shall be saved (11:25-26).

> “As regards to the gospel, they (the Israelites) are enemies of God, for your sake, but as regards election they are beloved for the sake of their forefathers, for the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.” (11:28)

It is tempting to seize the word paradox to explain this complicated style, but that does not seem to fit. Paul is not talking about seemingly contradictory ideas but an actual struggle—verbal and violent—between two groups. Israel exists, Israel appears to reject the new covenant in Jesus, Christians exist, and Christians are asking whether they and/or God need the Jews. I would prefer to describe these chapters as qualified speech. Every statement about one side must be qualified by another statement, every statement stands in tension with another. The word contingent also comes to mind. Each statement may not be isolated or held up as the answer, since it depends on another which sheds light on the matter.

All this is extremely important when we turn to the most harsh and damaging language regarding Israel being an enemy of God. On the one hand, here we have Paul’s qualified speech. In the context of this very bitter debate, Jews appear as enemies of what God is doing, but are also beloved and their calling is irrevocable. The word enemies applies only in the context of the current debate where the two sides are opposing one another. He seems to want to concede to the angry Christians that Jews are indeed opposing the gospel. But then he qualifies this harsh comment by reference to God’s election of the Jews and how God’s gifts and calling are irrevocable.

On the other hand, it is shocking that Paul would introduce such hostile language in the very text where he wants to de-escalate the tensions. It is also disturbing that in his attempt to qualify everything and criticize both sides equally, he does not refer to the Christians as enemies of God for wanting to reject Israel and the covenants. In all this we are confronted with the fact that Paul’s attempt to discuss the central difference between Jews and Christians and make peace may have aroused even more hostility among the Christians.

It is at this point that I want to introduce a proposal made by Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik in 1964. Given the fact that it is so difficult for Christians and Jews to talk about the basic doctrinal points of view in each tradition, he proposed that the two groups not discuss them, but confine their discussions to matters of humanitarian concern. Such a proposal flies in the face of our assumption that peace starts with face to face discussions over central issues. But the fact is that the history of Christian-Jewish relations demonstrates that how we talk about what divides us affects how we live with one another. And this has too often involved anger and violence.

Why is this? I fear it is precisely because the disagreements involve our most heartfelt beliefs, which increases the potential for rhetoric which wounds rather than heals. In all discussions is the fact that one side claims Jesus as the Messiah and the other does not. Add to this the fact that it is a familial matter. Christians have adopted the history of Israel with its promise of a Messiah. In general one does not get excited about some unknown person on the other side of the world disagreeing with you. But when your parents, brothers and sisters, or another branch of the family rejects what you say, that arouses passions. For rejection to come from those close is threatening. This would tend to support Rabbi Soloveitchik’s proposal: we are too close to one another to discuss things dispassionately.

But there is even another dimension to the problem we face: Even when a writer with ties to both sides tries to make peace, things can become very problematic. This is evident in Rom. 9-11 and it is distressing to admit it. But how are we going to limit the damage? Shall we, for example, use that traditional method of dealing with troublesome texts: just ignore Rom. 9-11. For example, some Protestants ignored the Letter to James because it did not appear to be compatible with their theology. Others have ignored the Book of Revelation because of its apocalyptic themes. Ignoring Romans 9-11 will be hard to do because Romans has been seen as a foundational text for most Protestants. Also, for some 60 years some have argued that the whole point of Romans is not to justify Luther’s principle of justification by faith, but to address the issue of Jews and Christians and the mission to the Gentiles. If that is the case, then we are going to have to read, teach and preach about Romans 9-11 in a twofold way: to affirm Paul’s conviction that God affirms both that the covenant of Moses and the covenant of Jesus are to exist side by side in peace, and at the same time remind ourselves how easy it is to violate the mandate for peace by using harmful and hostile language. In effect, this would mean that we take Paul’s admonition to affirm two covenants and live in peace as reason to avoid relying on some of the divisive things included in the argument. Paul’s admonition is to wait peacefully. But that is hard to do. It would appear that we prefer to divide and justify such action by righteous language overflowing with anger. We seem to prefer immediate plans to resolve tensions, even to the point of violence. But such actions overstep and mislead us in the direction of permanent divisions and warfare.

I am not ready to say that religious divisions inevitably lead to hostile and violent action, though given our history I have to admit that Rabbi Soloveitchik’s proposal is supported by our history. This does not mean we can or should do nothing. For one thing, our situation is very different from Paul’s. Since Christians are a majority and Jews a minority in our country, Christians ought to take seriously the obligation to protect Jews (and other religious minorities—even Palestinians.) We might even consider going beyond that: we could pray for one another and repent of that certainty which brims over with hostile language and makes us think that we are the ones to resolve the tensions. While we wait, it might be well to do some listening. If one cannot find reason to do any of these things based on Romans 9-11, then I recommend that you simply go back to Scripture which commands us to love one another.

Easter Confirmation

By Peter Schmiechen

On June 8, 2025

In Grace, The Church, Theology

On the Sunday after Easter, the Gospel reading (John 20: 19-30) presented us with two stories of Jesus’ appearances to the disciples. In the first, Jesus appears to all the disciples except Thomas and shares with them gifts as signs of his resurrection. Directly following is the second story of doubting Thomas, which seems to legitimize doubt in the life of faith since it involves one of the disciples. I also suspect that Thomas is popular in a modern world which is suspicious of traditional religious authority and favors the right of the individual to seek independent confirmation of religious claims. That Thomas should become a model for faith is surprising, since the ending of the story includes a mild rebuke of Thomas, which is easily overlooked. Given the differences between the two stories, each offers a distinctive perspective on confirming the resurrection. Here’s why.

Let’s start with the story of Thomas: After Jesus appeared to the other disciples, Thomas refuses to believe their testimony unless he sees Jesus himself and can touch him. When they are all together, Jesus appears to all of them and tells Thomas to touch his hands and side. Jesus tells him to believe and not doubt, where upon Thomas declares: “My Lord and my God.” But the story does not end there, with Thomas being the great example of finding faith while struggling with doubt. Instead Jesus says: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen but yet have come to believe.” (John 20: 29)

That’s a strange ending if Thomas is the hero. Is he the model for faith or not? To understand the last verse, we must consider the context. John is writing to Christians 60 to 80 years after the resurrection. None of his readers have seen Jesus before or after the Easter event, nor have they even seen any of the witnesses. They are what we might call second generation Christians. They only know about the gospel and Easter by reports from the witnesses. In fact, they do not have the option of insisting on a new appearance of the risen Lord. From this perspective, Thomas’ request sets him apart from all the readers of John’s gospel. He is demanding special treatment which none of them may receive. Also bear in mind that even though we come centuries later, we too are second generation Christians, i.e., we depend on the witness of the women and disciples.

So, what is John’s purpose for including the story of doubting Thomas in his gospel? The question is important in light of the fact that holding up Thomas as the dramatic model for faith stands in tension with the need to address the second generation. Let me explain.

The initial theme is presenting Thomas the apostle as the definitive witness to the resurrection, set against the background of doubt regarding all the other witnesses. Such a story would appeal to the second generation, which never saw any of the witnesses. Not only does the story have what some would see as the apostle’s courageous refusal to believe unless he sees and touches the body of Jesus, but the center piece is the appearance of Jesus who encourages Thomas to believe and not doubt. Then this culminates in the bold confession of Thomas. It should be noted that “Jesus is Lord” is the oldest confession regarding Jesus and becomes widespread in the early church. So it would appear that the Thomas story is loaded with things to aid the second generation in believing.

But then a second theme emerges, which cuts deeply into the adulation of Thomas. It begins with a rebuke of Thomas for believing only because he has seen. Remember that Thomas asked for something no one else can ask for or receive. It is here that the story is disappointing: by receiving an answer to his request, Thomas becomes a witness, like all the others. For the story to be persuasive, we must trust Thomas as a witness, which is exactly what Thomas refused to do with the other witnesses. What began in the hope of getting beyond trusting the witnesses now ends up just there: having to trust Thomas and the other witnesses. While his story may be more dramatic than others, it leaves the second generation with the question whether they can believe without seeing. But then another twist occurs: Jesus blesses the second generation for believing without seeing. It is not Thomas that is blessed but the readers of John’s gospel. This is disappointing because the most definitive and dramatic account of the resurrection still leaves the second generation having to trust the witnesses. It would appear that they do not have any other option. Or do they?

It is at this point that the first story offers some help. Again, it is set in the evening when the disciples are together in a room (except for Thomas). Jesus appears and shares four gifts: 1) peace; 2) a mission (“As the Father has sent me, so I send you…” 3) the Holy Spirit; 4) the authority to forgive sins. Let me say that such gifts are mentioned at the close of the other gospels in various ways, the most notable being the Great Commission in Matthew 28. It might be best to call signs of the resurrection.

This brief story strikes me as a very different from the story of doubting Thomas. Instead of focusing on seeing and touching the body of Jesus, the story centers on what we might call signs of resurrection which form the community in new ways. In this story the appearance of Jesus moves directly to instances of transformative power: peace, a mission, the Spirit and the ability to forgive sins and resist the powers of anger and vengeance. In the context of our divided and violent world, these are significant. Peace is not an ordinary, common practice. Nor is accommodation to violence unusual, as today the world stands by while Russia reduces an entire country to ruble, Gaza is destroyed by bombs and its people starve, and Jews are killed on the sidewalk in Washington. For good reason the first word spoken by Pope Leo XIV was “Peace.” In a similar way, where there is clarity of mission, people reconciled to one another by forgiveness, or the presence of the Spirit, there is confirmation of Jesus’ resurrection.

Once again we are confronted with the question whether faith is necessarily tied to other people or specific actions. Can you believe in the resurrection and reject the four signs? It is hard to imagine, but we need to avoid expecting all believers to live out their faith in the same way. But the accounts of the resurrection draw believers together and they are given the Holy Spirit and sent on a mission to proclaim the gospel. (cf. Acts 2) In the Gospel and Letters of God, it is unimaginable to speak of faith in God without loving one another. Now we must be clear: the signs of resurrection are not the resurrection, but it is safe to say that where there is resurrection faith, there are the signs of peace, mission, the Spirit and forgiveness.

For a moment, consider these two scenes as two perspectives on the resurrection. Both involve reference to Jesus’ physical presence, but for different reasons. In the first story, Jesus’ presence is connected to experiencing the impact of Jesus as risen Lord. The appearance of Jesus becomes a Pentecost event for the writer John. In the story of Thomas, seeing and touching the body relate to certainty about the resurrection itself¸ as played out in the struggle between doubt and belief, but then is suddenly placed in the context of the second generation.

Now before we drive a wedge between these two views, let me affirm that both are part of the Christian witness to the resurrection. If there were no bodily resurrection, questions would be raised whether it was all in the imagination of the disciples. Conversely, without the experience of new life stemming from the risen Christ, the witness to the resurrection would lack spiritual power. From the standpoint of the needs of the second generation—which is our situation—the first story is more helpful and persuasive. This is not to disregard questions about the resurrection itself. There is always a need to include the accounts of the witnesses. They are the ones who insist that something happened to cause them to affirm that Jesus is Lord. But as Thomas illustrated, if you do not have that experience, one can be caught between doubt and belief. In contrast to Thomas, we do not have his experience.

I conclude from these observations that in the task of confirming the resurrection, the signs of resurrection become decisive. The church needs to be spending time on how the resurrection forms the community in a new way and gives direction as to who we are, what we shall do and how we shall relate to one another. This is not unusual, since there have always been two approaches to confirming the resurrection: the appeal to the witnesses and the offer of signs of resurrection: peace, mission, forgiveness and the Spirit testify to Jesus as Lord.

In other words, confirming the resurrection now relates to whether:

You are at peace or know anything about what makes for peace.
You have purpose connected to the Rule of God. (Note Jesus said you cannot serve two masters)
You have received a spiritual rebirth.
You know anything about the forgiveness of sins (Note that the Amish consider forgiveness of sins a social practice required in order to hold back the power of vengeance and violence).

Viewed from this perspective, we seem to be moving toward saying that the accounts of the witnesses inspire faith when the signs of resurrection impact our lives. The testimony of the witnesses to the resurrection needs to be joined with a community where lives are changed by a mission, the presence of the Spirit of Christ, peace and the forgiveness of sins.

Given all this it should not surprise you when I say that it is very difficult to talk about the signs of the resurrection apart from the common life of believers gathered in churches. The idea of an individual Christian set apart from all common life may be possible, but it is the exception. All of the signs of resurrection imply a common life of worship, prayer, study, service and fellowship. Peace is found among people struggling with divisions and violence and the need to be reconciled to enemies. To struggle with the need to forgive requires a community inspired by the Spirit, which celebrates that we were born to live for one another. Participating in congregations is not a popular thought today, as so many seem to be seeking individual forms of spiritual life apart from churches. I will never say that Christ or the Spirit are confined to churches. What I will say is that when believers gather to hear Scripture, where the gospel is proclaimed and there is a common life based on sharing bread and wine, in such places we may find signs of the resurrection.

Being and Doing

By Peter Schmiechen

On May 4, 2025

In Grace, The Church, Theology

One way of exploring the life of faith for both Jews and Christians is to use the terms Being and Doing. Let’s begin by saying that Being has to do with the state of a person, i.e., heart, mind and soul; while Doing has to do with how a person expresses themselves in momentary or extended actions. I would even add that Doing includes the way we think, since thinking happens within a person formed with a specific Being. Thinking and doing are not the same in everyone because they are derived from different forms of Being in different cultural settings.

But things get complicated: On the one hand we assume that actions grow out of a person and so we ask: “Why did he do that? But on the other hand, what one does can influence and form a person’s Being. Much education includes training, even practice, in performing certain actions (and prohibits other actions) on the assumption that such repetition will become habits, which in turn will be internalized. That is, the child will come to understand the reason for such actions and will eventually do them voluntarily. The actions no longer need supervision by parents and teachers but become habits of the heart.

So why is this distinction important? To begin, the goal of true religion for both Jews and Christians is a new form of Being and Doing, formed by the gracious action of God. This gives Being a certain priority since it represents the relation of the believer to God in terms of faith and commitment, love and gratitude. But Doing is also essential, since the Being formed by grace finds expression in specific forms of Doing. Take for example the Shema: ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord our God is One and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your might.” (Deuteronomy 6:4-5) The passage goes on to say that “…these words shall be written upon your heart…” and you shall teach them to your children. Jesus affirms the same point: faith in God means voluntary and intentional love of God and neighbor, arising from the person transformed by grace. Such heart religion can never be reduced to a list of things to believe, unrelated to the heart. Luther and Calvin insisted that faith was not a good deed to gain acceptance by God, but the joyful trust of the heart toward a gracious God. To the extent that religion becomes defined only in terms of ideas or actions, it runs the danger of lapsing into lifeless repetition of seemingly good words or deeds which have no relation to the state of mind or heart. From what has been said, we can see the dynamic relation between Being and Doing. Doing is dependent on Being as a relation to God, and Being as a relation to God cannot exist without acts of love. Paul’s great sermon on love (I Cor. 13) affirms acts of love as greater than faith or hope. The First Letter of John declares that if one does not love, one does not know God. (I John 4:8) In this light Being and Doing cannot be separated. When pressed, this leads to a surprising point of view, namely that anyone can do something good for a neighbor in need, by design or accident. But true religion involves hearts and minds in joyful love of God and neighbor.

We now are at a point to ask: Given the way hearts and minds have been orientated in the ways of the world and our own self-centeredness, how is this new form of Being and Doing possible? When the New Testament speaks of redemption, reconciliation or liberation, it is pointing to the possibility of a major change in our Being. Whether we describe it in terms of a re-orientation, or a deconstruction of the old form of self-hood and the re-construction of the new, what is being affirmed is the possibility of change, resulting in a new form of Being.

Consider several examples:

1. The first thing Jesus says in Mark 1:14 is to announce the presence of the Kingdom of God followed by a call to repentance and faith. The sequence is crucial: something is happening which requires and makes possible a change. Repentance is a turning of hearts and minds from current commitments to trust in the Rule of God. The disciples are called to give up the standards of the world and accept the rule of love. Referring to the old ways of ruling over others, Jesus says: “But it shall not be so among you.” (Mk 10:43) We cannot serve two masters: One must choose to let go of the old and receive new life.

2. The Gospel of John begins with the declaration that the very Word of life and light “…became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father.” Such an event makes possible such a drastic change that it can only be compared to a new birth. (John 3) This makes no sense to Nicodemus, and Jesus makes clear the new birth is not something we can control, but comes of the Spirit. In a similar way Jesus speaks of living water and the bread of life.

3. Paul thinks we are so weighed down by sin, fear and the powers of this world that the change must be comparable to dying to the old life and rising with Christ to new life. Transformation is possible because it involves one no longer living to oneself but living in the power of Christ and the Spirit. In Galatians 6:3-4 he declares that he can expect great things of believers because they are a new creation. Years ago Paul Tillich re-phrased these words, suggesting we think of this as a new being.

In these three cases, we need to note the peculiar sequence: First, the agent of change is God. These are not self-help stories. We do not improve, heal or restore ourselves.

Second, all talk about something new in us and the world is dependent on something God has done. For Jews, there is a constant remembrance of God’s liberation of Israel from bondage in Egypt. For Christians it is the life, death and resurrection of Jesus which constitutes the new event. Whether you wish to point to Christmas, his calling of disciples, healing the sick, liberation from demonic power, creating a new covenant, his faithfulness unto death or God raising Jesus to be Lord, all of these constitute the new reality in our midst which generates a new Being.

Third, from this new Being there comes the mandate to act in new ways. Note the order: we are not called to bring in the Kingdom by ourselves, or to do things if we think they are good. Rather, we are commanded to act because we have been drawn into the new Being by the grace of God. As I learned years ago, the indicative always precedes the imperative. What is in Christ becomes the basis (or possibility) for a new Doing. Nowhere is this more evident than in Paul. He begins with what is: God in Christ changing the world. Then he admonishes us to be what we already are in Christ. Take his words in II Cor. 5:16, where he makes the transition from what is to what is possible with the words: “From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view….” In a sermon on this passage I stopped and said: Take a card and write on it: “From now on, therefore!” When you want to know what time it is, pull it out and read it. No matter what the time is at Greenwich, England, the real time is always: “From now on, therefore!”

Fourth, and so important because our culture ignores this: The new Being is always a communal existence. The exodus culminates in a Covenant; Jesus calls disciples into a New Covenant community. The new Being of the community, as well as that of each individual contained therein, is sustained by worship, prayer, the sacrament of the new covenant, as well as acts of fellowship, service and evangelism.

Now let me raise the question: How is this affirmation of Being and Doing affected by the church crisis and does what has been said offer any clues regarding the way forward? For seven decades, mainline churches have lost members (from 30% to 50%), hundreds of congregations, a decline in seminarians and a loss of funds. The decline in members has been especially painful since data suggests that mainline churches were not able to retain confirmands. In effect we lost our children. With little success at evangelism, decline and loss have dominated the mindset of church leaders. That is the current world of mainline Protestant churches, but we should add that Roman Catholics and Conservative Protestants have experienced their own form of the crisis. We need to ask about how religion has been affected by the culture and why people choose life on the edge of churches or completely outside of churches. And I would hope we would avoid thinking that the new Being is only in churches.

Here’s several things we know. First, since the 1960’s the culture wars have dominated the way churches define themselves. We have struggled with divisions over wars, civil rights, women’s rights, the environment, LGBT rights and many more issues. This has generated a tense situation between liberal and conservative Christians, but just as importantly, divisions within every local church. In America the church has been defined as a voluntary association of like-minded people. But the culture wars revealed that we are not like minded. In this respect, the culture wars exposed the fact that the church of agreement is dead and that we were not at all sure about the basis of unity. Was it a matter of belief or just a political process of majority rule?

Second, in American society, religion is something the individual chooses. As a result, people can be religious or speak of Jesus outside the church. Religion does not naturally involve a community with spiritual and social practices. As a result, congregations are not seen as an essential part of being religious—in fact, they are too often seen as merely a means to do certain things.

Third, Americans are optimistic and tend to claim innocence, be they liberal or conservative. In fact, conservatives now use the power of the government to forbid the discussion of certain issues like racism, lest such discussions make people feel pain. In such a culture, there is confidence that people can realize personal goals of happiness or solutions to moral problems by themselves. In the context of the traditional link between sin and grace, the claim to innocence undercuts a distinctive way Christians talk about faith in terms of human need or the call to repentance.

Fourth, we can enumerate some reasons why people left the church. Some left because they did not agree with church practices, especially in the culture wars. Others were deeply wounded by practices which affected them and felt like they were pushed out, to become refugees. For many, the disconnect from churches occurred along with the movement from rural areas to cities or cities to suburbs. For young people it occurred during the time in higher education or the pursuit of careers. In such cases, pluralism appears to be a factor since it undercuts claims by individual churches to be the only church. At times one gets the impression that churches simply did not appear to be the place to be. In the years after WWII, this was not the case, but it appears to be the case in the last fifty years. People speak of being busy, having second jobs, or engaged in other things (like sports for kids on Sunday mornings).

It is appropriate to cluster all these factors together because I don’t think there is one central factor and the reasons for leaving churches probably overlap. In more than one way it is unsettling to find that over this period many left churches because of the Christians, i.e., oppressive matters of faith and practice, as well as violations of trust by priests and ministers. Leaving seemed the appropriate thing to do, as in the movie The Graduate, where the young couple flee the church and lock family and friends inside with the cross.

There are some important things we have learned about losses and gains.

>We ought to be cautious regarding judgments regarding the spiritual life of those outside the church.

>While many left churches because churches appeared to be on the wrong side of issues relating to justice and peace, they did not appear to return to churches when the churches engaged in causes for justice and peace, i.e., churches active in such causes did not necessarily avoid losses or grow. This does not mean churches should not join in action for justice and peace, but that such practices should not be simply a strategy for adding members.

>It would be helpful to know more about how people outside the churches nurture their being and seek to be transformed. Here I am not just referring to self-help programs but the way people seek to participate in something which makes a difference or ways to be transformed.

>Much of the language we use to speak of sin and grace needs to be re-considered. For example, the traditional formula of beginning with sin so as to prompt a need for grace may not work because of general confusion about sin and innocence. Or, those who find themselves suffering from oppressive systems do not feel a sense of guilt, but of shame. They may not need forgiveness as much as liberation.

But here’s an alternative: In one discussion on finding an approach to those outside the church, one pastor in Lancaster, Jeff Shanaberger, suggested that we model regular Sunday worship on the great festivals of Christmas and Easter. In thinking about this, several things came to mind. The fact that many people do come to these two services may suggest that they are not as secular as we might think they are. But more important, these two services have the power to attract because they begin with a gracious event which changes things. This is the logic of the gospel and the proper order of Being and Doing. Christmas and Easter celebrate with joy (note: that is crucial) the birth and resurrection of Jesus, the agent of God who brings salvation as well as a sacred presence. They also celebrate the new Being of the community as the beginning of a movement to restore life and light in the world. Need I say it, they begin with grace.

Think for a moment of the powerful words in John 1: the Word becomes flesh; light and life are present so that we have seen His glory. Is it possible that we could envision the worship between Christmas and Easter, as well as Easter and Christmas, not simply as our attempts to interpret the meaning of these two great holidays, but to celebrate the glory of God revealed in our midst? The old piety of gratitude, so mindful of grace extended to sinners, was not wrong and will always be part of the gospel. But in our situation, what if we saw worship as a way of overwhelming and inspiring listeners with the glory of the new being in Christ. In the middle ages, cathedrals did that for people and still do for some. In the Protestant revolt, the proclamation of grace captured the imagination of people weighed down by the judgment of God. To see the glory of God in the community at worship, at the table, in fellowship, and in service may be a way to point to the good news. This might move us to reform the Supper liturgy so that it is not a sacrament of penance, but a glorious celebration of the cosmic salvation in Christ. I can also dream that it might prompt a new lectionary focusing on broad themes regarding the gospel, with clusters of texts which might focus our attention on proclaiming the gospel in the current crisis of the church. And if our preaching followed the sequences in the gospels, where men and women were called to make a decision, it might be just the way to invite listeners today to choose and to decide what one will do with one’s life. A piety of glory would be an amazing turn of events.

Note: For a more detailed discussion of some of these issues, see Tradition in Crisis: The Case for Centric Protestants.