Today, my blog bores even me. I've started and discarded five or six. I guess my mother's warnings when I was young have come true. TV will rot your mind. Only people with small minds are bored. If you don't go outside and play, you will never live up to your potential.
So, if you tuned in expecting something wonderful, I'm sorry. The TV is off, I am taking my very small mind outside to play where I hope I will live up to my potential. At 53, time may be running out.
Perhaps you should do the same.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Heaven and Hell...
We spent some time Sunday morning learning about New Testament concepts of heaven and hell and exploring our opinions and how they have been shaped. I grew up in a religious tradition where "hell" hovered over your head...waiting patiently for the sin which would allow you to be swooped up into the eternal lake of fire. Too bad for you.
Since people didn't always rush to that definitive sin, we "good Christians" often helped "hell" swoop. Fingers pointed and whispers flew and "those" people were condemned...mostly because they were not "like" us. Joy reigned when a soul was saved, but it was a public, collective joy...not nearly as fun as the secret exuberant joy that bubbled up when the sinner was punished and we were saved. I guess if someone else was heading straight toward "hell," it took the spotlight off of us...enabling respite from eternal vigilance regarding our own spiritual path and the fingers that might rightly or wrongly be someday pointed in our direction.
It is certainly true that heaven and hell are realities in biblical texts, though interpreted in different ways. No one consistent image or place emerges. Jesus speaks of heaven and hell. So we really can't completely ignore or dismiss the concepts. But, to me, Jesus' use of hell language seems descriptive, not determinative. He never points to someone and whispers their condemnation. He describes situations and attitudes...with God and without...living the way God wants us to live and living our own self-interests...and with the ways of life come judgment and consequences. He teaches and lives in the way that moves us toward the heavenly images...a place of love and security where all have rooms and food and comfort. He describes where our self-centered focus lands us...ultimately separated from community and love, living in pain and longing.
Heaven and hell aren't tools for the spiritual warfare or welfare of the Christian. They should be tools for the re-imagining of life together. How does God imagine our life together now and forever? Heavenly. If we refuse, we condemn ourselves.
Since people didn't always rush to that definitive sin, we "good Christians" often helped "hell" swoop. Fingers pointed and whispers flew and "those" people were condemned...mostly because they were not "like" us. Joy reigned when a soul was saved, but it was a public, collective joy...not nearly as fun as the secret exuberant joy that bubbled up when the sinner was punished and we were saved. I guess if someone else was heading straight toward "hell," it took the spotlight off of us...enabling respite from eternal vigilance regarding our own spiritual path and the fingers that might rightly or wrongly be someday pointed in our direction.
It is certainly true that heaven and hell are realities in biblical texts, though interpreted in different ways. No one consistent image or place emerges. Jesus speaks of heaven and hell. So we really can't completely ignore or dismiss the concepts. But, to me, Jesus' use of hell language seems descriptive, not determinative. He never points to someone and whispers their condemnation. He describes situations and attitudes...with God and without...living the way God wants us to live and living our own self-interests...and with the ways of life come judgment and consequences. He teaches and lives in the way that moves us toward the heavenly images...a place of love and security where all have rooms and food and comfort. He describes where our self-centered focus lands us...ultimately separated from community and love, living in pain and longing.
Heaven and hell aren't tools for the spiritual warfare or welfare of the Christian. They should be tools for the re-imagining of life together. How does God imagine our life together now and forever? Heavenly. If we refuse, we condemn ourselves.
Transrational Tenacity...
Yesterday the 87th presbytery approved a change to our Book of Order (the way we agree to govern ourselves) that allows gay and lesbian people to serve the church in ordained positions while they are in committed relationships. As usual with any significant decision, joy abounds on one side and anger and grief abound on the other.
As I read the gospels and watch Jesus' interactions with people, I will always, always, err on the side of inclusiveness and non-judgment...perhaps to a fault, but I'm willing to take that risk. I have no doubt that the Bible understands homosexual behavior as a sin...and divorce, and judging others, and taking care of yourselves while others suffer. I know that people on both sides of the ordination debate are loving, caring people. I know both sides believe passionately they are right.
But here's what I also know. Regardless of "right," we are human. Even our best "right" is sometimes wrong. I remember in high school becoming aware of Americans providing infant formula to babies in Africa in an effort to prevent starvation. Good, right? How is acting to prevent infant death due to malnutrition a bad thing? Except, African mother's didn't have clean water to mix with the formula; they didn't have enough money to purchase the amount of formula they needed. Infants continued to die...from parasites introduced from the water or from malnutrition as their mothers added a bit of extra water to stretch the formula.
That was the first time I recognized that good people don't always make good decisions, even when they think they are. We are not God. We cannot see every contingency, predict every reaction, anticipate every problem. We are human...created good in the image of God...but not God. And as not-God, we must live in great humility.
For 30 years I have been on the losing "side" of this gay ordination issue. Before that, I was on the losing side of women being ordained in ministry. Skin color, culture differences, we can always find something to fight over. When we moved from Houston, a tangle of different cultures and colors, to Nebraska where everyone looked the same, we learned very quickly that people divided themselves along economic lines. They were proud that they were not like those "southerners" who owned slaves and discriminated against blacks. They were wrong in thinking they didn't practice the exact same prejudice--they just used different dividing lines.
I believe we are moving in the right direction following the slow, deliberate, consensus-building work of the Holy Spirit. But I want my brothers and sisters who are now on the "losing" side to see my hand stretched out in communion...in hope of living together with Jesus as our head even when we disagree... coming together in the humble knowledge that we are all sinners...trusting that God's purposes cannot be thwarted.
Whether we agree or disagree, we live in covenant with each other. Robin Meyers (Saving Jesus from the Church) says "...we must recover a theology of conscience and reject the dominant and heretical theologies of personal 'victory.'" He suggests we are "defined by how we relate one to another and how well we keep our promises"...true...but he goes on to challenge us specifically as Christians because we have an even stronger call to relationship...a different kind of call. Meyers says:
I don't know how life together will play out with this new rule. We might have a new openness and acceptance; we might have more vitriol and hatefulness as we struggle with each other. Likely we will have both. What I do know is that living in this relationship of "transrational tenacity" will allow the Spirit to work in us and in others. We will never do it perfectly. I assure you, I get very fussy with people who are judgmental and narrow-minded...who (in my opinion, of course) are not interested in learning and conversing and problem-solving, but in excluding and assuming and protecting themselves from all threat, real or imaginary.
But I see the power of this covenantal relationship...of this "transrational tenacity" that Jesus lived. I see marriages damaged by betrayal heal and strengthen when both partners fight for their covenantal relationship. I see addicts in recovery from their addiction because someone is willing to practice a transrational tenacity. I see congregations meeting needs and experiencing new life because they have stopped trying to protect themselves and have chosen covenant relationships with those inside and outside their walls.
The world expects the PC(USA) to explode all over itself. They expect infighting and hatefulness and splitting and separation. May God give us the strength to give them, instead, a transrational tenacity as we choose to be bound by parameters of forgiveness and patience.
As I read the gospels and watch Jesus' interactions with people, I will always, always, err on the side of inclusiveness and non-judgment...perhaps to a fault, but I'm willing to take that risk. I have no doubt that the Bible understands homosexual behavior as a sin...and divorce, and judging others, and taking care of yourselves while others suffer. I know that people on both sides of the ordination debate are loving, caring people. I know both sides believe passionately they are right.
But here's what I also know. Regardless of "right," we are human. Even our best "right" is sometimes wrong. I remember in high school becoming aware of Americans providing infant formula to babies in Africa in an effort to prevent starvation. Good, right? How is acting to prevent infant death due to malnutrition a bad thing? Except, African mother's didn't have clean water to mix with the formula; they didn't have enough money to purchase the amount of formula they needed. Infants continued to die...from parasites introduced from the water or from malnutrition as their mothers added a bit of extra water to stretch the formula.
That was the first time I recognized that good people don't always make good decisions, even when they think they are. We are not God. We cannot see every contingency, predict every reaction, anticipate every problem. We are human...created good in the image of God...but not God. And as not-God, we must live in great humility.
For 30 years I have been on the losing "side" of this gay ordination issue. Before that, I was on the losing side of women being ordained in ministry. Skin color, culture differences, we can always find something to fight over. When we moved from Houston, a tangle of different cultures and colors, to Nebraska where everyone looked the same, we learned very quickly that people divided themselves along economic lines. They were proud that they were not like those "southerners" who owned slaves and discriminated against blacks. They were wrong in thinking they didn't practice the exact same prejudice--they just used different dividing lines.
I believe we are moving in the right direction following the slow, deliberate, consensus-building work of the Holy Spirit. But I want my brothers and sisters who are now on the "losing" side to see my hand stretched out in communion...in hope of living together with Jesus as our head even when we disagree... coming together in the humble knowledge that we are all sinners...trusting that God's purposes cannot be thwarted.
Whether we agree or disagree, we live in covenant with each other. Robin Meyers (Saving Jesus from the Church) says "...we must recover a theology of conscience and reject the dominant and heretical theologies of personal 'victory.'" He suggests we are "defined by how we relate one to another and how well we keep our promises"...true...but he goes on to challenge us specifically as Christians because we have an even stronger call to relationship...a different kind of call. Meyers says:
When a covenant is a religious one, another dimension is added to the idea of an agreement, even one that is freely entered into. That dimension is a transcendent quality based on religious values. A religious covenant is not a contract, which we enter into and follow mostly for self-protection or to force compliance. In contracts, if one party fails to live up to the agreement the agreement is voided. Not so with religious covenants. THEY ARE BOUND BY THE PARAMETERS OF FORGIVENESS AND PATIENCE AND CHARACTERIZED BY A KIND OF TRANSRATIONAL TENACITY. (emphasis mine)
The covenant itself and what it makes possible are considered larger and more important than the benefit to either party...they are grounded in faith and are entered into in the belief that reciprocity and mutuality are transformational...Religious covenants are long-term voluntary commitments in which some of the individual's autonomy is lost--surrendered on behalf of the covenant itself.My son has asked me for years why I didn't leave the church because I disagreed with our rules about this issue and others. Why didn't I just start my own church and do what I knew was right? The answer is this "transrational tenacity" that requires us to live and be "bound by parameters of forgiveness and patience." As difficult as that demand is on time and psyche, it is foundational to our living as the body of Christ in the world. If we do not live in this way, how are we different from the world around us...a world focused on its own safety and well-being over the redemption and reconciliation of others.
I don't know how life together will play out with this new rule. We might have a new openness and acceptance; we might have more vitriol and hatefulness as we struggle with each other. Likely we will have both. What I do know is that living in this relationship of "transrational tenacity" will allow the Spirit to work in us and in others. We will never do it perfectly. I assure you, I get very fussy with people who are judgmental and narrow-minded...who (in my opinion, of course) are not interested in learning and conversing and problem-solving, but in excluding and assuming and protecting themselves from all threat, real or imaginary.
But I see the power of this covenantal relationship...of this "transrational tenacity" that Jesus lived. I see marriages damaged by betrayal heal and strengthen when both partners fight for their covenantal relationship. I see addicts in recovery from their addiction because someone is willing to practice a transrational tenacity. I see congregations meeting needs and experiencing new life because they have stopped trying to protect themselves and have chosen covenant relationships with those inside and outside their walls.
The world expects the PC(USA) to explode all over itself. They expect infighting and hatefulness and splitting and separation. May God give us the strength to give them, instead, a transrational tenacity as we choose to be bound by parameters of forgiveness and patience.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Dove Chocolate...
A friend posted on Facebook that our planet is the only planet with chocolate. A reason to give thanks that we have the privilege to live on this blue sphere for sure. And I can definitely say that chocolate has been a good friend for years...
Imagine my surprise when a truly great friend gave me three Dove raspberry chocolates. Well, a good friend...she doesn't like raspberry...when she shares her favorites, then she is a great friend. But I love raspberry chocolates, so perhaps she is a great friend. OK...this might have just disintegrated into chocolate drivel...which brings me back to Dove Chocolate.
I open this chocolate and the wrapper tells me to discover how much my heart can hold. So I wonder who are we as a society that we have conversations with chocolate wrappers. We get inspiration from chocolate wrappers. We are challenged to live our lives in certain ways by...chocolate wrappers.
I think I'm going to have to have a piece of chocolate and think on that.
Imagine my surprise when a truly great friend gave me three Dove raspberry chocolates. Well, a good friend...she doesn't like raspberry...when she shares her favorites, then she is a great friend. But I love raspberry chocolates, so perhaps she is a great friend. OK...this might have just disintegrated into chocolate drivel...which brings me back to Dove Chocolate.
I open this chocolate and the wrapper tells me to discover how much my heart can hold. So I wonder who are we as a society that we have conversations with chocolate wrappers. We get inspiration from chocolate wrappers. We are challenged to live our lives in certain ways by...chocolate wrappers.
I think I'm going to have to have a piece of chocolate and think on that.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Living and Acting with Compassion...
Work on the White House starts Friday, May 6. (See the White House blog for background information.) The fussy neighbors who insist that their highest priority is to protect the neighborhood school from the perception of danger have complained about "those dangerous people" to the newspaper and plan to protest at the house tomorrow as the first wave of volunteers comes in--insuring the spread of the very perception they say they are fighting against.
Circumstances make me think about a Christian's call to serve...our call to mission...who we as a church and as individuals are supposed to be in the world. One time at a Christian bookstore, I overheard a woman saying that her children were in a Christian school...she would never have her kids in a public school. She didn't want them exposed--I'm not sure to what. Different color skin? different economic resources? different cultures? or perhaps to my children who are active and dedicated members of the Presbyterian church and lived their faith in the public schools.
We don't live in a perfect world. It is dangerous, though I think not as dangerous as we are led to believe with the 24 hour news cycles. Certainly there is brokenness everywhere, including the richest families, the most "normal" among us. My family lived with active addiction for years and we were the "preacher's family"..."nice people"..."upper middle class"..."Christian." It didn't stop addiction from entering our world and beating up on us for a while.
Had it not been for rehab, outpatient services, an incredible legal gift, and a family who could learn to trust again, our son would not have a second chance at a healthy life. That is our family's most intense experience of resurrection so far. The people who helped enable the healing showed...compassion.
As Jesus teaches the crowds in Luke 6, he makes the statement, "Be merciful as your Father is merciful." Sometimes the word is translated "perfect." The word is better translated "compassionate." In Aramaic, the word is the plural of a noun that, when singular, means "womb." Compassion...the Latin passion with the prefix com meaning with gives you this idea that you must feel with someone...a "visceral empathy." Robin Meyers in Saving Jesus from the Church, says that this empathy that Jesus speaks of is from deep within us...like a woman's compassion for her unborn child. What a difference a word makes.
If we are trying to be "perfect," we have to live those public lives in which nothing is wrong and we can avoid pain or trouble just because we try. If we are "merciful" we just feel sorry for those who cannot live (or pretend to live) these perfect lives. If we are compassionate, we feel with those who are suffering, with those in need. Jesus points us toward a compassionate God...a God who feels for us like a mother for her unborn. Churches of Jesus' time, and church people, expected a God who was "holy," a God gazing on us from perfect heavenly heights and hoping that we would get our act together before we died and had to go to hell. Jesus says not true. God shows each of us compassion and...here's the kicker...expects us to do the same.
We, as disciples of Christ, cannot put "those people" in some other place and let some other person deal with their issues while we keep our neighborhoods "holy." Our neighborhoods are not holy, even if we want them to be...and pretending they are makes us the equivalent of the Pharisee praying, "Thank God I am not like those people."
If we are disciples of Jesus, we must live lives of compassionate service. On Friday, May 6, that means we start work on the White House in spite of the dissension. We will welcome and serve the least of these into our neighborhood. And...we will have compassion for the fussy neighbors who are filled with fear. We will love and respect them too.
That is what shows God's compassion to the world. That is how God's compassion transforms the world. It is extraordinarily hard for us, but with God's help, we will commit to gracious welcome to all...our friends and our enemies. Interestingly, Jesus doesn't say we have to feel it. We just have to act it out. God will do the rest.
Friday, May 6 can be a day that reveals anger and discord and perpetuates fear and brokenness. Or Friday, May 6 can be a day that reveals Jesus Christ at work in our world.
Circumstances make me think about a Christian's call to serve...our call to mission...who we as a church and as individuals are supposed to be in the world. One time at a Christian bookstore, I overheard a woman saying that her children were in a Christian school...she would never have her kids in a public school. She didn't want them exposed--I'm not sure to what. Different color skin? different economic resources? different cultures? or perhaps to my children who are active and dedicated members of the Presbyterian church and lived their faith in the public schools.
We don't live in a perfect world. It is dangerous, though I think not as dangerous as we are led to believe with the 24 hour news cycles. Certainly there is brokenness everywhere, including the richest families, the most "normal" among us. My family lived with active addiction for years and we were the "preacher's family"..."nice people"..."upper middle class"..."Christian." It didn't stop addiction from entering our world and beating up on us for a while.
Had it not been for rehab, outpatient services, an incredible legal gift, and a family who could learn to trust again, our son would not have a second chance at a healthy life. That is our family's most intense experience of resurrection so far. The people who helped enable the healing showed...compassion.
As Jesus teaches the crowds in Luke 6, he makes the statement, "Be merciful as your Father is merciful." Sometimes the word is translated "perfect." The word is better translated "compassionate." In Aramaic, the word is the plural of a noun that, when singular, means "womb." Compassion...the Latin passion with the prefix com meaning with gives you this idea that you must feel with someone...a "visceral empathy." Robin Meyers in Saving Jesus from the Church, says that this empathy that Jesus speaks of is from deep within us...like a woman's compassion for her unborn child. What a difference a word makes.
If we are trying to be "perfect," we have to live those public lives in which nothing is wrong and we can avoid pain or trouble just because we try. If we are "merciful" we just feel sorry for those who cannot live (or pretend to live) these perfect lives. If we are compassionate, we feel with those who are suffering, with those in need. Jesus points us toward a compassionate God...a God who feels for us like a mother for her unborn. Churches of Jesus' time, and church people, expected a God who was "holy," a God gazing on us from perfect heavenly heights and hoping that we would get our act together before we died and had to go to hell. Jesus says not true. God shows each of us compassion and...here's the kicker...expects us to do the same.
We, as disciples of Christ, cannot put "those people" in some other place and let some other person deal with their issues while we keep our neighborhoods "holy." Our neighborhoods are not holy, even if we want them to be...and pretending they are makes us the equivalent of the Pharisee praying, "Thank God I am not like those people."
If we are disciples of Jesus, we must live lives of compassionate service. On Friday, May 6, that means we start work on the White House in spite of the dissension. We will welcome and serve the least of these into our neighborhood. And...we will have compassion for the fussy neighbors who are filled with fear. We will love and respect them too.
That is what shows God's compassion to the world. That is how God's compassion transforms the world. It is extraordinarily hard for us, but with God's help, we will commit to gracious welcome to all...our friends and our enemies. Interestingly, Jesus doesn't say we have to feel it. We just have to act it out. God will do the rest.
Friday, May 6 can be a day that reveals anger and discord and perpetuates fear and brokenness. Or Friday, May 6 can be a day that reveals Jesus Christ at work in our world.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Thomas, Doubt, and Resurrection...
Forget it. I was done. I don’t even really know why I followed him in the first place. Sometimes you get swept up in other people’s excitement…other people’s hope. I knew from the beginning that hope was misplaced. You can’t expect one man…even if he looks and sounds like a great prophet…even if you see what seems to be impossible…you can’t expect a man to overthrow the Roman Empire. I knew better. It’s always been hopeless. I just forgot that for a while.
They killed him. Not a surprise. The only real surprise was that they didn’t kill him earlier. You can’t fight the system. The system always wins. All that happened was that we put ourselves and our families at great risk…in great danger. The empire destroyed the prophet first, but chances were good they were coming for us. They were not ones to leave loose ends.
Of course I was locked in a house. We all were. Jesus was dead…crucified. We had no leader, no support from the crowds, no power or money or status. The only hope we had was the locked door. Perhaps the soldiers wouldn’t be interested enough to break the door in. Perhaps they would say they tried and move on. If we hid long enough, perhaps, perhaps, they would forget and we could go back to the way we were.
The other disciples were gathered together. I wasn’t with them. I figured the more scattered we were, the safer we were. Seemed to me that gathered together just made us easier to pick off. I’m not sure why I bothered, though…I was pretty sure it was hopeless wherever we were.
The banging at the door sent me into despair. This is it, I thought. But it was the other disciples. Not only were they banging at the door…they were hollering. They had lost their minds and were going to take me down with them. I didn’t want to let them in, but I didn’t want them screaming at my door either….so I flipped the lock.
We saw the Master…they are yelling. They are jumping around like kids. “We saw the Master….he’s alive!” Bunk. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice….not happening. “We saw the Master! We saw the Master!!!”
Of course I didn’t believe them. I went through that once. I knew better than to get excited again. I told them what I thought…Unless I see the nail holes in his hands, put my finger in the nail holes, stick my hand in his side, I won’t believe it. It can’t happen.
I held them off for another week. They came by, reminding me of what they had seen. I ran them off…but they came back. They kept coming back, putting me and my family in more and more danger. Finally, I went to the room where they gathered. I was putting an end to this once and for all. It had been a week and we might get out of this alive, but if they continued this “I’ve seen the master nonsense” we wouldn’t. I locked the door behind me and turned to give them a piece of my mind. This messiah thing was NOT happening.
To say I was surprised was an understatement. Jesus came through the locked doors. I knew they were locked…I did it myself. But there he was. He walked straight into the middle of the group and said, “Peace be to you.”
Then he looked straight at me and invited me to touch his hands, his feet, his side. Can a mortally wounded body give hope? All I can say is that I’ve experienced resurrection.
They killed him. Not a surprise. The only real surprise was that they didn’t kill him earlier. You can’t fight the system. The system always wins. All that happened was that we put ourselves and our families at great risk…in great danger. The empire destroyed the prophet first, but chances were good they were coming for us. They were not ones to leave loose ends.
Of course I was locked in a house. We all were. Jesus was dead…crucified. We had no leader, no support from the crowds, no power or money or status. The only hope we had was the locked door. Perhaps the soldiers wouldn’t be interested enough to break the door in. Perhaps they would say they tried and move on. If we hid long enough, perhaps, perhaps, they would forget and we could go back to the way we were.
The other disciples were gathered together. I wasn’t with them. I figured the more scattered we were, the safer we were. Seemed to me that gathered together just made us easier to pick off. I’m not sure why I bothered, though…I was pretty sure it was hopeless wherever we were.
The banging at the door sent me into despair. This is it, I thought. But it was the other disciples. Not only were they banging at the door…they were hollering. They had lost their minds and were going to take me down with them. I didn’t want to let them in, but I didn’t want them screaming at my door either….so I flipped the lock.
We saw the Master…they are yelling. They are jumping around like kids. “We saw the Master….he’s alive!” Bunk. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice….not happening. “We saw the Master! We saw the Master!!!”
Of course I didn’t believe them. I went through that once. I knew better than to get excited again. I told them what I thought…Unless I see the nail holes in his hands, put my finger in the nail holes, stick my hand in his side, I won’t believe it. It can’t happen.
I held them off for another week. They came by, reminding me of what they had seen. I ran them off…but they came back. They kept coming back, putting me and my family in more and more danger. Finally, I went to the room where they gathered. I was putting an end to this once and for all. It had been a week and we might get out of this alive, but if they continued this “I’ve seen the master nonsense” we wouldn’t. I locked the door behind me and turned to give them a piece of my mind. This messiah thing was NOT happening.
To say I was surprised was an understatement. Jesus came through the locked doors. I knew they were locked…I did it myself. But there he was. He walked straight into the middle of the group and said, “Peace be to you.”
Then he looked straight at me and invited me to touch his hands, his feet, his side. Can a mortally wounded body give hope? All I can say is that I’ve experienced resurrection.
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