The final metaphor I will use to describe my observation of the contemporary American church is "courtroom." It doesn't require much explanation does it?
We sit under our steeples and pronounce judgment on the world outside. "Why can't they be more like us?" "What is wrong with this culture?"
Here's the thing. They aren't called to be Jesus' disciples. We are. We are the salt and light of the world. That means we need to be out in the world, not huddled inside doing the tsk-tsk shame finger thing to those on the outside. God is the only judge.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Church as Shopping Mall
Another good metaphor for today's churches, in my observation, is a shopping mall, geared toward consumers, where we can get everything we might need. Of course, it is easy to criticize the mega-churches for this. But the same is true for smaller churches as well. We're just not as good at it.
Eugene Peterson, in his book The Jesus Way, says:
It didn't take long for some of our Christian brothers and sisters to develop consumer congregations. If we have a nation of consumers, obviously the quickest and most effective way to get them into our congregations is to identify what they want and offer it to them, satisfy their fantasies, promise them the moon, recast the gospel in consumer terms: entertainment, satisfaction, excitement, adventure, problem-solving, whatever. This is the language we Americans grow up on, the language we understand. We are the world's champion consumers, so why shouldn't we have state-of-the-art consumer churches.
Given the conditions prevailing in our culture, this is the best and most effective way that has ever been devised for gathering large and prosperous congregations. Americans lead the world in showing how to do it. There is only one thing wrong: this is not the way in which God brings us into conformity with the life of Jesus and sets us on the way of Jesus' salvation. This is not the way we become less and Jesus becomes more. This is not the way in which our sacrificed lives become available to others in justice and service. The cultivation of consumer spirituality is the antithesis of a sacrificial, "deny yourself" congregation. A consumer church is an antichrist church. (p. 6, emphasis mine)
Eugene Peterson, in his book The Jesus Way, says:
It didn't take long for some of our Christian brothers and sisters to develop consumer congregations. If we have a nation of consumers, obviously the quickest and most effective way to get them into our congregations is to identify what they want and offer it to them, satisfy their fantasies, promise them the moon, recast the gospel in consumer terms: entertainment, satisfaction, excitement, adventure, problem-solving, whatever. This is the language we Americans grow up on, the language we understand. We are the world's champion consumers, so why shouldn't we have state-of-the-art consumer churches.
Given the conditions prevailing in our culture, this is the best and most effective way that has ever been devised for gathering large and prosperous congregations. Americans lead the world in showing how to do it. There is only one thing wrong: this is not the way in which God brings us into conformity with the life of Jesus and sets us on the way of Jesus' salvation. This is not the way we become less and Jesus becomes more. This is not the way in which our sacrificed lives become available to others in justice and service. The cultivation of consumer spirituality is the antithesis of a sacrificial, "deny yourself" congregation. A consumer church is an antichrist church. (p. 6, emphasis mine)
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Church as Civic Organization
Last post, I wrote about the the opportunity the church has to be a hospital, a greenhouse, and an army. This post I want to explore why churches so often don't operate as such and what, in my observation, churches often are.
It goes without saying that many churches to day have become little more than civic organizations. Actually, civic organization might be too kind a term; social club would be better. There are many civic organizations doing a better job at world-transformation than we are. We seem to have lost a sense of mission. This old, old story says it well:
It goes without saying that many churches to day have become little more than civic organizations. Actually, civic organization might be too kind a term; social club would be better. There are many civic organizations doing a better job at world-transformation than we are. We seem to have lost a sense of mission. This old, old story says it well:
Saturday, January 29, 2011
A Hospital, a Greenhouse, and an Army
Today I was preparing for tomorrow's worship service where we our receiving four new members. I was reminded of something my dad observed a long time ago regarding a church. It's not original, not then and certainly not now. However, the truth of it rings for me now after 25 years of life and work in the church. He told us that a church is a hospital, a greenhouse, and an army.
A church is a hospital for those that find themselves hurting and on our doorstep. It is these that we have the opportunity to receive and to love. It usually isn't easy or romantic because, after all, hurt people really do often hurt people. However, just as the doctor doesn't judge the emergency room patient, we needn't judge the walking wounded that God sends to us.
A church is a greenhouse for those interested in growing in their relationship with God and others. It is here that we learn together, encourage one another, and, ideally, practice our faith in a safe environment.
A church is an army--not, as I used to understand it, as an army to march and convert the world to our way of understanding God, but as an army assembled to march against the darkness of injustice and hopelessness which shadows our world.
I don't see these as a progression, necessarily, moving from A to B to C. I will experience these dimensions of the church many times each. There will be times when I am able to engage and grow, there will be times when my call is clear and my ministry on fire, and there will be times when I need to step back and allow my wounds to be tended.
What do you think about these three experiences of the church? I would love to hear your thoughts.
Tomorrow, I will write about other experiences of the church that keep us from what I see as these three most important experiences.
A church is a hospital for those that find themselves hurting and on our doorstep. It is these that we have the opportunity to receive and to love. It usually isn't easy or romantic because, after all, hurt people really do often hurt people. However, just as the doctor doesn't judge the emergency room patient, we needn't judge the walking wounded that God sends to us.
A church is a greenhouse for those interested in growing in their relationship with God and others. It is here that we learn together, encourage one another, and, ideally, practice our faith in a safe environment.
A church is an army--not, as I used to understand it, as an army to march and convert the world to our way of understanding God, but as an army assembled to march against the darkness of injustice and hopelessness which shadows our world.
I don't see these as a progression, necessarily, moving from A to B to C. I will experience these dimensions of the church many times each. There will be times when I am able to engage and grow, there will be times when my call is clear and my ministry on fire, and there will be times when I need to step back and allow my wounds to be tended.
What do you think about these three experiences of the church? I would love to hear your thoughts.
Tomorrow, I will write about other experiences of the church that keep us from what I see as these three most important experiences.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Real World Spiritual Disciplines #1
However, that will be the last time I'll count the items of the people in the express lane. I decided on the drive home that, beginning today, I am going to start practicing the spiritual discipline of not counting express lane items. I am adding it to my rule.
I hope its practice will nudge me to the place where I can experience the transforming power of God in my life. You see, I have a judgmental heart. I think, in many cases, it keeps me from forming deep relationships with others. Does the number of items the person in front of me has change the way God calls me to relate to him? Not in the least. That anger, that self righteousness that I feel is sin, plain and simple and I need God to rid me of it.
Pray for me in my practice!
Now if I could just stop thumbing through the tabloids.
Lengthen the Cords and Strengthen the Stakes
"Enlarge the site of your tent,
and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out;
do not hold back; lengthen your cords
and strengthen your stakes." Isaiah 54:2
I'm blowing the dust off my cyber-desk. I came upon this passage a couple of weeks ago. I was blessed by the memory of it. Here is how God speaks to me through it:
God calls us to strengthen the stakes, to deepen our relationship with the Divine. As that occurs, I believe we then have the opportunity to start to lengthen the cords to expand the tent. As I grow in my relationship with God, I grow in my ability to make space for other understandings of God.
It seems this is the opposite of what often happens. Many shrink the tent, excluding those whose view of God does not match their own. And quite often, though not always, the stakes of those tent shrinkers are found to be quite weak.
Oh, to be the community of faith that throws open the curtains, welcomes all, and facilitates the strengthening of the stakes!
and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out;
do not hold back; lengthen your cords
and strengthen your stakes." Isaiah 54:2
I'm blowing the dust off my cyber-desk. I came upon this passage a couple of weeks ago. I was blessed by the memory of it. Here is how God speaks to me through it:
God calls us to strengthen the stakes, to deepen our relationship with the Divine. As that occurs, I believe we then have the opportunity to start to lengthen the cords to expand the tent. As I grow in my relationship with God, I grow in my ability to make space for other understandings of God.
It seems this is the opposite of what often happens. Many shrink the tent, excluding those whose view of God does not match their own. And quite often, though not always, the stakes of those tent shrinkers are found to be quite weak.
Oh, to be the community of faith that throws open the curtains, welcomes all, and facilitates the strengthening of the stakes!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Great Prayer
From the Book of Common Prayer, adapted by Phyllis Tickle in The Divine Hours
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which are cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which are cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Big Tent Christianity
There was a lot to like about the conference and the speakers. I, like many, have found in the Emergent movement, helpful words to describe the direction in which we have been moving. My only complaint is a certain amount of cloying self-consciousness, a hipster "look at the coolness that is us" sensibility that is mildly annoying (yes, that is a pipe that 20-something is smoking). Beyond that, however, there was some good conversation and much food for thought.
For each of the next few days I will highlight one of the panel discussions. Some were more rich than others, some were more notable than others (in that there was stuff to take notes on), and some piqued my interest more than others, which accounts for the length and brevity of some of the sections.
The first session was Big Tent Christianity and included Phyllis Tickle, Brian Mclaren, and Philip Clayton.
Philip Clayton talked about the Big Tent metaphor, inviting us to imagine the old revivals held in tents. This is where many, including Clayton himself, have had a profound experience of the Divine. The other meaning he suggested is the bigness of the tent, a tent where as many as possible can fit.
He challenged those gathered to consider:
Revival: repentance, not just a personal revival, but something more complex
Renewal: not rejection, we don't have to reject everything. We can move away and come back to discover the tradition anew.
Revisioning: discovering new ways of being the church
Reflection: taking the responsibility for finding the words to describe our relationship with Christ
Respond: Clayton left us with a three-fold exhortation: 1. Called us to the discipline of living deeply, 2. Called us to practice Big Tent Christianity at home, 3. Be pioneering prophets.
Brian McLaren, who moved from traditional evangelicalism to a more progressive or Emergent position shared what he had experienced on that journey:
1. Loss of members
2. Loss of friends
3. Loss of belonging
4. Loss of simplicity, certainty
5. Loss of rights
6. Gaining wounds and fatigue
and, conversely:
1. Members may have only been consumers anyway
2. New friends when you reach out to the "other"
3. Making space for others to belong
4. Something beyond dualism- a new simplicity
5. Opportunity to love our enemies
6. In being wounded, we lose capacity to inflict wounds
Phyllis Tickle, shared, basically, from her book The Great Emergence
She sees a great upheaval in religion and culture every 500 years, the latest, "The Great Emergence," happening now.
the Great Emergence in one word: de-institutionalized
"Emergence Christianity" is the overarching theme- but there are different emPHAsis on the sylABles: emergent, emerging, neo-monastic, missional
Monday, October 4, 2010
God Is Still Speaking, #1
Yesterday after church a group of folks gathered to discuss how we would organize our Sunday School after our Christian Education director retires at the end of October. It was mostly about mechanics and logistics, the comfortable discussions we fall into at these types of meetings: who is available to cover when, what is the procedure, etc.
But right in the middle there was a God Is Still Speaking Moment. Carol, our Christian Ed director, put in a DVD that is part of the curriculum. She told me later that it was not even the video clip that she intended to show first. It was geared for middle school students and it was a clip of a group of kids discussing Jesus' family tree. They were commenting on the variety of characters in Jesus' ancestry, how some were famous Biblical characters known for following God and how some were people that would not be considered at all "religious," or as one of the kids put it, not like he pictured "church people."
God used a Sunday school video clip to speak to me yesterday. I hope, if God was speaking to others beside me, they were listening as well. Jesus of Nazareth, the one sent to redeem and restore the world, came from a pedigree of bastards, murderers, prostitutes, and cheats.
God can use any of us to birth the Divine into the world. There is nothing we can do to disqualify ourselves. One is used by God because God chooses to use one, despite one's education level, title, station in life, social class, or criminal record. Of course, our life experience may make us more or less fit for particular ministries, but none of us are disqualified and, therefore, none of us exempt.
But right in the middle there was a God Is Still Speaking Moment. Carol, our Christian Ed director, put in a DVD that is part of the curriculum. She told me later that it was not even the video clip that she intended to show first. It was geared for middle school students and it was a clip of a group of kids discussing Jesus' family tree. They were commenting on the variety of characters in Jesus' ancestry, how some were famous Biblical characters known for following God and how some were people that would not be considered at all "religious," or as one of the kids put it, not like he pictured "church people."
God used a Sunday school video clip to speak to me yesterday. I hope, if God was speaking to others beside me, they were listening as well. Jesus of Nazareth, the one sent to redeem and restore the world, came from a pedigree of bastards, murderers, prostitutes, and cheats.
God can use any of us to birth the Divine into the world. There is nothing we can do to disqualify ourselves. One is used by God because God chooses to use one, despite one's education level, title, station in life, social class, or criminal record. Of course, our life experience may make us more or less fit for particular ministries, but none of us are disqualified and, therefore, none of us exempt.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Wait a Minute, I Don't Buy That...
Last Sunday, a mother came up to me and told me that she and her daughter had been discussing the morning's sermon. I had preached on "We Belong to Jesus" and had mentioned that when we surrender to Christ, when we see ourselves as belonging to Christ, then we don't have to worry about things like others' opinions of ourselves or whether we have enough money at the end of the month.
Well, this sharp young woman's bullshit detector went off and she said to herself, "Wait a minute, that is not true. It doesn't match what I have experienced." And of course, it doesn't. She knows all sorts of good, church-going Christians that still have to worry about their mortgage.
And I found myself once again at the precipice of the huge chasm that divides religious talk and sermons and church stuff from an authentic relationship with Christ. A life surrendered to Christ, a life given to something more than just making it, does indeed lead us into an entirely different realm where the concerns of this life don't go away but become no more burdensome than gnats that we have to shew away from our face. However, I'm afraid that, at least as far as typical American church life goes, we can't get there from here. The systems we have not only don't lead people into this authentic relationship with God, in many ways they actively oppose it.
As I enter ordained ministry, I want my ministry to be about facilitating the wonderful transformation and freedom that can take place in individual lives and in society as one makes the decision to simply follow Jesus.
Well, this sharp young woman's bullshit detector went off and she said to herself, "Wait a minute, that is not true. It doesn't match what I have experienced." And of course, it doesn't. She knows all sorts of good, church-going Christians that still have to worry about their mortgage.
And I found myself once again at the precipice of the huge chasm that divides religious talk and sermons and church stuff from an authentic relationship with Christ. A life surrendered to Christ, a life given to something more than just making it, does indeed lead us into an entirely different realm where the concerns of this life don't go away but become no more burdensome than gnats that we have to shew away from our face. However, I'm afraid that, at least as far as typical American church life goes, we can't get there from here. The systems we have not only don't lead people into this authentic relationship with God, in many ways they actively oppose it.
As I enter ordained ministry, I want my ministry to be about facilitating the wonderful transformation and freedom that can take place in individual lives and in society as one makes the decision to simply follow Jesus.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Spirituality of Questions
Last Sunday afternoon was my Ecclesiastical Council for my ordination. In the United Church of Christ, it is not just the local church that ordains a woman or man for ministry, it is also a function of the wider church, since one is ordained as a minister of the entire United Church of Christ.
What this looked like for me is that 40 or so people, mostly from my church, but including people from other churches in the area, gathered to discern whether I had been called into vocational ministry. I shared briefly my spiritual journey, and my theological and ecclesiological understandings as they stand at this point in my life. And then the magic happened.
After my opening address, anyone gathered was welcome to ask me questions. And ask they did. "What is heaven and hell?" "What does it mean to be saved?" "Why does God allow evil?" "Will we ever evolve beyond our need for God?" And I didn't get the feeling at all that people were trying to trick me or even test me. It felt like those gathered were revealing the deep questions of their hearts.
In the coming days I may share my responses to some of these questions. For now, I want to honor the questions themselves. I left that afternoon convinced that we as the church need to be creating space for people to be safe in asking questions. For so long, the church has been the dispenser of the "truth" and we would all come on Sundays and get our cup filled. And because we weren't allowed or were too polite or were afraid about what would happen if we started messing with the cards in the house of cards. Our choices were to agree and fall in line or disagree, keep our mouths shut, and leave or stay and pretend.
We need to question. We need to knead and squeeze our understanding of our truth so we can get it into a form that makes it efficacious for our lives.
What this looked like for me is that 40 or so people, mostly from my church, but including people from other churches in the area, gathered to discern whether I had been called into vocational ministry. I shared briefly my spiritual journey, and my theological and ecclesiological understandings as they stand at this point in my life. And then the magic happened.
After my opening address, anyone gathered was welcome to ask me questions. And ask they did. "What is heaven and hell?" "What does it mean to be saved?" "Why does God allow evil?" "Will we ever evolve beyond our need for God?" And I didn't get the feeling at all that people were trying to trick me or even test me. It felt like those gathered were revealing the deep questions of their hearts.
In the coming days I may share my responses to some of these questions. For now, I want to honor the questions themselves. I left that afternoon convinced that we as the church need to be creating space for people to be safe in asking questions. For so long, the church has been the dispenser of the "truth" and we would all come on Sundays and get our cup filled. And because we weren't allowed or were too polite or were afraid about what would happen if we started messing with the cards in the house of cards. Our choices were to agree and fall in line or disagree, keep our mouths shut, and leave or stay and pretend.
We need to question. We need to knead and squeeze our understanding of our truth so we can get it into a form that makes it efficacious for our lives.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
A Hermeneutic of Love
On Sunday at church, I preached about one of our core values, "We are people of God's extravagant welcome" and then invited response from the conversation.
One of the questions that was asked was regarding how we assimilate the idea of extravagant welcome with passages in the Bible that appear to exclude certain people or behaviors, in this instance specifically homosexuality.
I responded with the notion that every time we approach scripture we make a choice of how we will interpret it and that we, or I, choose to interpret it in a certain way. On reflection, I realized that, while true, it was about 30% of an answer. And I want to get it up to a good 80-85% here.
Yes, every time we engage scripture we do so through a particular lens or a system of interpretation called a hermeneutic. I know, big word. But it's a very useful word. The Bible is so vast and deep and varied and, dare I say, messy at times that one may find it useful to have a guiding principle when approaching it. That guiding principle is a "hermeneutic."
"Well," one may respond, "I believe the Bible says what it means and means what it says. I just take it at face value." And that is a good way to start reading these sacred scriptures. However, it has been my experience that as I spend more and more time in scripture, which I love to do, I find parts that seem to contradict other parts. I encounter a God that commanded that an entire nation be killed, not because they did anything wrong, but because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time (Joshua 6). Elsewhere, I encounter a God that loved humanity so much, that this God took the form of a human just to be with us and reveal his love and grace to us in a way we could understand. As a result, I must choose how to read a passage of scripture; I must make a hermeneutical choice.
I could choose to read the Bible as one long story from beginning to end, written, without error, by the hands of men controlled exactly and precisely by God. That choice would require me to come up with some pretty creative explanations of parts of the Bible that seem to be in contradiction to one another.
That was a choice that I grew uncomfortable with.
The story I tell about God, based on my understanding from scripture, my observation of how God has worked in history, and my experience of God in my own life, is that God is a God of unfathomable, super-human, love, grace, and acceptance. That understanding of God in scripture eclipses other understandings, in my most humble opinion. So, I choose to read scripture with the hermeneutic of love. Every passage I read, I read through the glasses of a God of radical, extravagant welcome and acceptance. And guess what...that choice requires that I come up with some pretty creative explanations of parts of the Bible that seem to be in contradiction to my understanding of God, but no more or less creative than other hermeneutics.
So, briefly, with every intention of filling these out in greater detail at another time: When I read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19), I don't see God angry at a people because of homosexuality, but because of, among other things, being inhospitable. When I read laws supposedly given by God against homosexuality (Leviticus 20:13), I see a necessary rule for a particular time and place to ensure the fruitfulness of a particular tribe, not an all-time and forever rule. When I read Paul's inclusion of homosexuality in a list of sins seen as symptoms of a people who do hot acknowledge God (Romans 1), I assume that Paul is speaking of the only homosexuality he knew at the time, prostitution and slavery, not same-sex couples that choose to form loving, sexual relationships.
Do these require some creative interpretations? Yes, as a matter of fact, they do. Are there other ways that these, and all scriptures, can be read? Most certainly. However, my life and ministry is based on a particular hermeneutical choice, a hermeneutic of love.
One of the questions that was asked was regarding how we assimilate the idea of extravagant welcome with passages in the Bible that appear to exclude certain people or behaviors, in this instance specifically homosexuality.
I responded with the notion that every time we approach scripture we make a choice of how we will interpret it and that we, or I, choose to interpret it in a certain way. On reflection, I realized that, while true, it was about 30% of an answer. And I want to get it up to a good 80-85% here.
Yes, every time we engage scripture we do so through a particular lens or a system of interpretation called a hermeneutic. I know, big word. But it's a very useful word. The Bible is so vast and deep and varied and, dare I say, messy at times that one may find it useful to have a guiding principle when approaching it. That guiding principle is a "hermeneutic."
"Well," one may respond, "I believe the Bible says what it means and means what it says. I just take it at face value." And that is a good way to start reading these sacred scriptures. However, it has been my experience that as I spend more and more time in scripture, which I love to do, I find parts that seem to contradict other parts. I encounter a God that commanded that an entire nation be killed, not because they did anything wrong, but because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time (Joshua 6). Elsewhere, I encounter a God that loved humanity so much, that this God took the form of a human just to be with us and reveal his love and grace to us in a way we could understand. As a result, I must choose how to read a passage of scripture; I must make a hermeneutical choice.
I could choose to read the Bible as one long story from beginning to end, written, without error, by the hands of men controlled exactly and precisely by God. That choice would require me to come up with some pretty creative explanations of parts of the Bible that seem to be in contradiction to one another.
That was a choice that I grew uncomfortable with.
The story I tell about God, based on my understanding from scripture, my observation of how God has worked in history, and my experience of God in my own life, is that God is a God of unfathomable, super-human, love, grace, and acceptance. That understanding of God in scripture eclipses other understandings, in my most humble opinion. So, I choose to read scripture with the hermeneutic of love. Every passage I read, I read through the glasses of a God of radical, extravagant welcome and acceptance. And guess what...that choice requires that I come up with some pretty creative explanations of parts of the Bible that seem to be in contradiction to my understanding of God, but no more or less creative than other hermeneutics.
So, briefly, with every intention of filling these out in greater detail at another time: When I read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19), I don't see God angry at a people because of homosexuality, but because of, among other things, being inhospitable. When I read laws supposedly given by God against homosexuality (Leviticus 20:13), I see a necessary rule for a particular time and place to ensure the fruitfulness of a particular tribe, not an all-time and forever rule. When I read Paul's inclusion of homosexuality in a list of sins seen as symptoms of a people who do hot acknowledge God (Romans 1), I assume that Paul is speaking of the only homosexuality he knew at the time, prostitution and slavery, not same-sex couples that choose to form loving, sexual relationships.
Do these require some creative interpretations? Yes, as a matter of fact, they do. Are there other ways that these, and all scriptures, can be read? Most certainly. However, my life and ministry is based on a particular hermeneutical choice, a hermeneutic of love.
Monday, September 13, 2010
My Spiritual Choice
I read an article this morning that really nudged me over the edge. There are a myriad of spiritualities one could live. Even within Christianity, there are several doctrinal stories in which one could engage. Most of them, when followed authentically, are benign and there are more than one that could lead to a rich, transformative, productive life with God. Most of us "good Christians," in my opinion, would do better to pick one and live it than to argue about them.
Here is the one I am choosing: love God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself (Luke 10:27). As Paul Allen, the author of the article states, "there is no mention of balance, just pure devotion." What if Jesus' statement that if we seek first the Kingdom of God, everything else will be added, is a true statement about spiritual life? It seems so simple. What if I focused on loving God and loving those around me: my family, my patients, my parishioners, my co-workers, my friends.
This is what I am choosing. I am not saying it is he only doctrinal story one could live or even the best. However, I feel it is the best for me.
God, I am giving it over to you. I want my heart to be transformed. In loving you, I want to be transformed into a lover of my neighbors. I can't wait to see how you will shape me.
Here is the one I am choosing: love God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself (Luke 10:27). As Paul Allen, the author of the article states, "there is no mention of balance, just pure devotion." What if Jesus' statement that if we seek first the Kingdom of God, everything else will be added, is a true statement about spiritual life? It seems so simple. What if I focused on loving God and loving those around me: my family, my patients, my parishioners, my co-workers, my friends.
This is what I am choosing. I am not saying it is he only doctrinal story one could live or even the best. However, I feel it is the best for me.
God, I am giving it over to you. I want my heart to be transformed. In loving you, I want to be transformed into a lover of my neighbors. I can't wait to see how you will shape me.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
What we Hear
Today I was listening to Fresh Air on National Public Radio. Terry Gross was interviewing a poet named Natasha Tretheway. She won the 2007 Pulitzer Prize for poetry for her book Native Guard. Good stuff. Her latest book is Beyond Katrina: A Mediation on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, a book of poetry and prose.
The part of the interview that I heard included the poet speaking about her grandmother's faith and her funeral.
GROSS: You describe yourself as not a religious person. But do you ever wish that you could have religion like your grandmother did and therefore, find some kind of holy meaning in the most horrible things that have happened?
Prof. TRETHEWEY: I think, you know, she had such a faith and I understood it as a great comfort to her. And there are times that I think that I wish I had such a comfort.I remember when she was being remembered at her service, the preacher looking directly at me and saying, grieve not as others grieve. He was sermonizing about how the faithful don't have the same kind of grief, because they know that there is something else. And so I felt indicted as he looked at me and said "grieve not as others grieve," as if he was pointing to me and saying, I know that you are not the faithful and because of that you have a different kind of grief, the wrong kind.
GROSS: And were you changed by that at all?
Prof. TRETHEWEY: Oh, I was angry.
GROSS: Angry at him for making you feel that way when you were grieving.
Prof. TRETHEWEY: Yes. I...
GROSS: As if there were a wrong kind of grief.
Prof. TRETHEWEY: I think I wanted remembrance of her and I wanted comfort. I mean, I think funeral services are for the living in some ways. They are to remember the dead, but in the face of the living, beloved. And so I didn't feel comforted.
I was so sad listening to this. I wasn't there, but it seems to me from her telling that it is possible this minister was offering to her comfort and hope when he said "grieve not as others grieve." However, she certainly didn't take it as such. She took it as judgment, an indictment.
It seems that for some any word from a religious leader is a word of judgment. And it is true that up to and including now, most of the words of religion have been judgmental.
These are the questions I am pondering:
Why are religious voices always heard as judgmental (and I am specifically using "religious" and not "spiritual" here) even when they may not be? Is it only because of our horrible history? Or, is there something going on inside a person that makes them feel indicted by God?
How can we change our religious language so that those around us understand and experience that "God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world..." (John 3:17 NLT)?
I would love to hear your thoughts!
The part of the interview that I heard included the poet speaking about her grandmother's faith and her funeral.
GROSS: You describe yourself as not a religious person. But do you ever wish that you could have religion like your grandmother did and therefore, find some kind of holy meaning in the most horrible things that have happened?
Prof. TRETHEWEY: I think, you know, she had such a faith and I understood it as a great comfort to her. And there are times that I think that I wish I had such a comfort.I remember when she was being remembered at her service, the preacher looking directly at me and saying, grieve not as others grieve. He was sermonizing about how the faithful don't have the same kind of grief, because they know that there is something else. And so I felt indicted as he looked at me and said "grieve not as others grieve," as if he was pointing to me and saying, I know that you are not the faithful and because of that you have a different kind of grief, the wrong kind.
GROSS: And were you changed by that at all?
Prof. TRETHEWEY: Oh, I was angry.
GROSS: Angry at him for making you feel that way when you were grieving.
Prof. TRETHEWEY: Yes. I...
GROSS: As if there were a wrong kind of grief.
Prof. TRETHEWEY: I think I wanted remembrance of her and I wanted comfort. I mean, I think funeral services are for the living in some ways. They are to remember the dead, but in the face of the living, beloved. And so I didn't feel comforted.
I was so sad listening to this. I wasn't there, but it seems to me from her telling that it is possible this minister was offering to her comfort and hope when he said "grieve not as others grieve." However, she certainly didn't take it as such. She took it as judgment, an indictment.
It seems that for some any word from a religious leader is a word of judgment. And it is true that up to and including now, most of the words of religion have been judgmental.
These are the questions I am pondering:
Why are religious voices always heard as judgmental (and I am specifically using "religious" and not "spiritual" here) even when they may not be? Is it only because of our horrible history? Or, is there something going on inside a person that makes them feel indicted by God?
How can we change our religious language so that those around us understand and experience that "God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world..." (John 3:17 NLT)?
I would love to hear your thoughts!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Convicting Quote
I'm reading a book (among several right now) titled The God Evaders: How Churches and Their Members Frustrate Genuine Religious Experience by Clyde Reid, a staff member of the national setting of the United Church of Christ. I was pointed to the book by a quote from it in Dallas Willard's book, The Divine Conspiracy. God Evaders is old (1966), but it good have been written this morning. Reid quotes a pastor of the time, John Heuss, and it has been ringing in my ears for the past few days:
The ordinary day-by-day life of the average successful [there were still a few successful ones back then] local parish makes a mockery out of it's world-influencing revolutionary claims.
It is customary for all of us to lay the blame for the public indifference to religion at the door of the secularism and materialism of our age. It is my personal opinion that neither of these does as much harm as does the constant parade of trivialities which the typical church program offers to the public. This program is only rarely related to the real issues which are clawing the soul of modern man to shreds. This program speaks with no commanding voice to the multitudes perishing for lack of certainty. This program gives the distinct impression that it is concerned exclusively with its own preservation.
What most parishes are habitually doing is so prosaic and so little related to anything except their own hand-to-mouth existence that the public cannot imagine in what way they can possibly influence the great affairs of the world. What the local church has become makes it impossible for the average American to take its life-shaking Gospel seriously. Its day-to-day triviality is its own worst enemy.
The ordinary day-by-day life of the average successful [there were still a few successful ones back then] local parish makes a mockery out of it's world-influencing revolutionary claims.
It is customary for all of us to lay the blame for the public indifference to religion at the door of the secularism and materialism of our age. It is my personal opinion that neither of these does as much harm as does the constant parade of trivialities which the typical church program offers to the public. This program is only rarely related to the real issues which are clawing the soul of modern man to shreds. This program speaks with no commanding voice to the multitudes perishing for lack of certainty. This program gives the distinct impression that it is concerned exclusively with its own preservation.
What most parishes are habitually doing is so prosaic and so little related to anything except their own hand-to-mouth existence that the public cannot imagine in what way they can possibly influence the great affairs of the world. What the local church has become makes it impossible for the average American to take its life-shaking Gospel seriously. Its day-to-day triviality is its own worst enemy.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Great Sunday
In a quiet, but miraculous way, we noticed God moving at church this Sunday. God, in God's incredible grace, gave us, I believe, and I know gave me a glimpse of what could happen in our church. Our worship Sunday was good. Then some of us gathered to talk about worship, what worship is, how worship is meaningful to us. It was a wonderful conversation that really gave us something to work with as we move forward in our worship planning. And then Sunday night, we rocked. In an almost surreal scene, a rock band, and a pretty good one at that, Southbound Fearing, from Toledo, Ohio, treated the 20 or 30 of us gathered to an ear-splitting, bass-feeling concert.
The days activities nudged us just enough outside the norm to be able to imagine something different. And it was good.
The days activities nudged us just enough outside the norm to be able to imagine something different. And it was good.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Agressive and Palliative Spiritual Care
Someone gave me a quote today-- quote by one of my favorite spiritual writers, Henri Nouwen:
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. the friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares.
It's a great description of what I do with my hospice patients in my role as an interfaith chaplain. I meet them where they are, discerning what is spiritually important to them, providing comfort and assurance.
Medically, hospice is about palliative care. It is about keeping a patient comfortable. No agressive or curative treatment is pursued.
Spiritually, palliative care is often called for: comfort, assurance. End-of-life is such a time, I believe, unless of course, a patient demonstrates a need for something else: reconciliation with God, reconciliation with others. But what about in my role as pastor? When is it appropriate to engage in curative spiritual care? When do I need to risk a little bit of pain, possibly on the part of one who I am caring for, and definitely on my part, to help someone over a hump, or to mirror what I see as a detrimental issue in their life?
I imagine it would have to be if they themselves request me to take such a position. Or, as a prophetic voice, which, generally, is not comfortable for me, there may be times when I should take the initiative.
Finley Peter Dunne is credited with originating the saying "Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." He was referring to the role of the newspaper. It has since been applied to the role of spiritual leaders and the church. It requires great discernment. I can think of times when both have been used where the other may have been appropriate.
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. the friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares.
It's a great description of what I do with my hospice patients in my role as an interfaith chaplain. I meet them where they are, discerning what is spiritually important to them, providing comfort and assurance.
Medically, hospice is about palliative care. It is about keeping a patient comfortable. No agressive or curative treatment is pursued.
Spiritually, palliative care is often called for: comfort, assurance. End-of-life is such a time, I believe, unless of course, a patient demonstrates a need for something else: reconciliation with God, reconciliation with others. But what about in my role as pastor? When is it appropriate to engage in curative spiritual care? When do I need to risk a little bit of pain, possibly on the part of one who I am caring for, and definitely on my part, to help someone over a hump, or to mirror what I see as a detrimental issue in their life?
I imagine it would have to be if they themselves request me to take such a position. Or, as a prophetic voice, which, generally, is not comfortable for me, there may be times when I should take the initiative.
Finley Peter Dunne is credited with originating the saying "Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." He was referring to the role of the newspaper. It has since been applied to the role of spiritual leaders and the church. It requires great discernment. I can think of times when both have been used where the other may have been appropriate.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
The Freedom of Servanthood
A few weeks ago, on July 4th actually, I preached on the idea of servanthood. It wasn't one of my best sermons. It's hard to preach on something that sounds so crazy. It's like standing up and saying that green is orange or that left is right. However, since that week the sermon, at least, has been working on me. The idea is haunting me, that it is in service, in servanthood that we can find freedom.
For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. Galatians 5:13 (NRSV)
If I am serving another, then I am free of the concern about what that one thinks of me. If I am serving another in love, then I am free of what the consequences are, how that service, how that love is reacted to. I don't have to impress anyone. I don't have to be anything I am not. I just have to serve.
This is what we are called to as disciples of Jesus. This is what we are called to as the church. But it seems that it is the antithesis of who we are as the church. We don't serve, we judge. We protect our belief systems and our institutions. It is very apparent in the Roman Catholic church maybe because they have been around for so long and have so much power or perceived power at least. The Vatican's recent comments reveal an institution more interested in protecting its tradition and doctrine than dealing forthrightly with a serious problem, the victimization of children by the ones children should be able to trust the most, their religious leaders. However, us younger denominations and groups are just as guilty.
I want to serve. I want to lead a movement of servants.
For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. Galatians 5:13 (NRSV)
If I am serving another, then I am free of the concern about what that one thinks of me. If I am serving another in love, then I am free of what the consequences are, how that service, how that love is reacted to. I don't have to impress anyone. I don't have to be anything I am not. I just have to serve.
This is what we are called to as disciples of Jesus. This is what we are called to as the church. But it seems that it is the antithesis of who we are as the church. We don't serve, we judge. We protect our belief systems and our institutions. It is very apparent in the Roman Catholic church maybe because they have been around for so long and have so much power or perceived power at least. The Vatican's recent comments reveal an institution more interested in protecting its tradition and doctrine than dealing forthrightly with a serious problem, the victimization of children by the ones children should be able to trust the most, their religious leaders. However, us younger denominations and groups are just as guilty.
I want to serve. I want to lead a movement of servants.
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Root of All Sin...
"The root of all sin is the suspicion that God is not good."
- Oswald Chambers
I just heard this quote today. I like it so far, although I'm not sure I have fully absorbed it. Yesterday, I spoke about providence, the idea that God protects us on our journey. I believe that. (See below)
But wow, the root of all sin begins with the suspicion that God is not good, that makes me put my money and my life where my mouth is. Do I really believe that God is good all the time and all the time God is good? Do i trust there is a God and that said God wants the very best for me? I spend every day of my live encouraging that belief in others. But this quote has given me pause; made me stop and think.
It's like Chambers is asking me "Jason, do you believe that God is good? If you do, wouldn't your life look different, be different?" It's not a matter of holding to a particular dogma. Baby, it's way beyond that. It is a question that cuts to the core of how I live my life, who I am. I can preach it. Can I live it?
- Oswald Chambers
I just heard this quote today. I like it so far, although I'm not sure I have fully absorbed it. Yesterday, I spoke about providence, the idea that God protects us on our journey. I believe that. (See below)
But wow, the root of all sin begins with the suspicion that God is not good, that makes me put my money and my life where my mouth is. Do I really believe that God is good all the time and all the time God is good? Do i trust there is a God and that said God wants the very best for me? I spend every day of my live encouraging that belief in others. But this quote has given me pause; made me stop and think.
It's like Chambers is asking me "Jason, do you believe that God is good? If you do, wouldn't your life look different, be different?" It's not a matter of holding to a particular dogma. Baby, it's way beyond that. It is a question that cuts to the core of how I live my life, who I am. I can preach it. Can I live it?
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Prophetic Words
"From today's crisis, a church will emerge tomorrow that has lost a great deal...She will be small and, to a large extent, will have to start from the beginning. She will no longer be able to fill many of the buildings created in her period of great splendor. Because of the smaller number of her followers, she will lose many of her privileges in society. Contrary to what has happened until now, she will present herself much more as a community of volunteers...As a small community, she will demand much more from the initiative of each of her members and she will certainly also acknowledge new forms of ministry and will raise up to the priesthood proven Christians who have other jobs...It will make her poor and a church of the little people..All this will require time. The process will be slow and painful."
- Joseph Ratzinger, 1969
Ratzinger is now Pope Benedict XVI. This is a quote from an article about him in Time magazine (June 7, 2010). It was uttered forty years ago and yet is amazingly prophetic. I am getting impatient. I am weary of the conversations about how we can "save the church," meaning the institution we love and protect. I am ready for that institution to die so that it will stop impeding the movement of the Spirit in our world. I am ready for what is coming. I am ready for women and men with hearts set afire to respond to who God is calling them to be and what God is calling them to do.
- Joseph Ratzinger, 1969
Ratzinger is now Pope Benedict XVI. This is a quote from an article about him in Time magazine (June 7, 2010). It was uttered forty years ago and yet is amazingly prophetic. I am getting impatient. I am weary of the conversations about how we can "save the church," meaning the institution we love and protect. I am ready for that institution to die so that it will stop impeding the movement of the Spirit in our world. I am ready for what is coming. I am ready for women and men with hearts set afire to respond to who God is calling them to be and what God is calling them to do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
