SAINT ANDREW'S CHURCH, LAKE WORTH, FLORIDA

Crypt Chapel, Trinity College (see text below)

The Eve of Lent 2 [February 23, 2002]
Canon Richard T. Nolan

Meditation

Born Again: Obnoxious or Graceful

        Many of us have encountered individuals who have eagerly identified themselves as “born again Christians.” They are often dedicated, single-minded people who trumpet their godlike certainties - mistakenly substituted for a humble faith. They do not believe; they know - as God knows! They arrogantly burst with pride and fervently condemn anyone disagreeing with them. This type of “born again Christian” uses Bible verses selectively and simplistically as a weapon, and they invoke Jesus as their very own personal consultant. In their own family settings they berate anyone that they can latch onto, if the family member believes differently. Their missionary zeal is relentless and obnoxious. Moreover, they pray condescendingly and far too much for their invented adversaries, including supposed lost souls like you and me. Such “born again Christians” imagine themselves as theologians, but their pronouncements are naïve, mean-spirited, and often just plain incorrect. Such is a stereotype of “born again Christians,” but stereotypes come into being, because many concrete examples have been experienced by a multitude of people.

        However, we can be thankful there are others, like former President Jimmy Carter. He is a born-again Christian with an unpretentious, solid faith that clearly cuts through the stereotype with a refreshing difference.

        In tonight’s Gospel we hear the New Testament basis of the phrase "born again." As used in the Gospel According to John, the expression means that to be a genuine Christian is to be more than a citizen of a particular country, or to abide by some version of the Golden Rule, or to be a habitual churchgoer. To be a Christian means to respond to God's empowering Spirit and to commit oneself to a covenant relationship with God through Jesus Christ. The experience of making a decision, a conscious choice of this commitment, is what is meant by "born again." Such a determination can be a quiet and gradual process of realization, or it might be a decisive, emotional moment of acceptance.

        Now and then I run into individuals who mention that they we’re born Catholic or Lutheran or Episcopalian, or some other Christian community. It is as if they emerged from the womb as a member of a Christian Church. The vast majority of Jews are indeed born Jewish; they are automatically Jews by virtue of a parent’s Jewishness. All Muslims are born Muslim, for their religion teaches that to be human is to be Muslim; in fact, in their eyes you and I were born Muslim, but have been side-tracked by erroneous teachings and have become Christians.

        Tonight’s Gospel reading makes it abundantly clear that being a genuine Christian is not a birthright; nor is it an automatic consequence of merely parroting words in a Prayer Book. Instead, one must be born again; that is, one must make a personal decision to be a Christian.

        Just as it misses the mark if one is an obnoxious born-again Christian, it is also inadequate if we take for granted some kind of mechanical Christianity. Genuine disciples of Jesus Christ are not unfeeling, mindless robots. The vital contribution of many forms of Protestant Christianity (including President Carter’s) to our Episcopal heritage is the challenge to raise Christian awareness to personal commitment, to remind us that muttering phrases at church is insufficient. Liturgical churches – the Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Eastern Orthodox, and our own - fall short when they provide ceremonies that lack real meaning and power in the hearts and minds of their people.

        I’d like to share an anecdote that I’m sure you will hear again. I was baptized in an Episcopal Church when I was about 2 weeks old and confirmed, too young, at 11. I was an acolyte at age 8, a bit of a “sacristy rat” who had grasped low-church choreography. I danced well in Sunday services. When I was about 20, I made a more mature, personal decision to be a Christian. I was in a bit of a quandary about it and sought out the college’s interim chaplain, a retired bishop. I don't remember the specifics of the conversation in the Trinity College chaplain’s office; I was very nervous telling a bishop that my Confirmation years earlier didn't mean anything to me, that I had no memory of my baptism, and only now at 20 did I consciously choose for myself to be a Christian. I do recall clearly what then happened. Bishop Louis Bliss Whittemore arose from behind his desk and walked (no, reverently processed) to the large, office closet. Opening the door, he quietly (no, prayerfully) put on his bishop's vestments. I was becoming more nervous; I had heard of exorcisms and was wondering whether my irreverent attitude toward my baptism and confirmation had seemed demonic to him! "Come with me, Richard" he beckoned. I followed in silence, even more ill-at-ease, down the stairs to the crypt chapel. We stood before the altar, he facing me. The small, underground chapel was cool and faintly lit; it could have been either spooky or holy. At that moment it was holy. The bishop opened the Prayer Book and adapted the Service of Confirmation, so that my vows as a Christian, a child of God, were renewed; he laid his hands on my head with a blessing. He affirmed that indeed I had been born again.

        Episcopalians and many other Christians raised in New England (and other reserved circumstances) are likely to reach that point in our lives in a quiet and gradual process of realization. We are generally repelled by sudden changes and demonstrative outbursts. The Holy Spirit is fully aware of that reality and does not require us to leap about! On the other hand, more expressive people open to abrupt transformations might experience decisive, emotional moments of acceptance of Christ and his Way. Whichever the process, it need not result in the obnoxious aggression displayed by too many so-called “born again Christians.”

        The liturgical season of Lent may be put to use in a number of ways, one of which is to reflect on the quality of our commitments to God. We might ask ourselves whether we just go through the motions in church. Do we participate in ceremonial activities as ends in themselves? Are we just on a passive automatic pilot as Christians? Are our beliefs and worship just a matter of thoughtless habit?

        Or, in contrast, are some of us actively exploring what all this means? Perhaps others have reached a point where they can for the first time, or yet again, make the personal decision to be disciples of Jesus Christ, to trust him as the Word of God. Whatever the case may be, you and I have been invited to be authentic born again Christians: graceful, faithful, unpretentious, respectful, and above all, warm and caring. The decision is up to each of us.