Glee and God...

You know that any TV show that starts with the prayer, "Dear Grilled Cheesus" has to hold some true potential.  Jesus' image on the grilled cheese, questions raised about church and its relationship to GLTB persons, what is sacred, whether God exists...pretty heavy stuff for a pop culture show.

The joy, I suppose, is that the questions were raised.  The sadness was the only answers revealed were through pop culture songs--not that there's anything wrong with pop culture songs--but really?  we can only find secular music to express thoughts about who God is and how God works in our world?  I was actually eager to see which of the multitude of beautiful spirituals, deep hymns, gorgeous works of grief and hope, would be sung in the church.  What did we get?  Bridge Over Troubled Water...

It distresses me that while questions are asked, few will seriously consider church to seek answers.  Now, frankly, there are churches that I might walk into seeking answers--then walk out of disgusted.  But how hard is it to communicate that every church is different.  The argument that we can't get ourselves together to agree on things certainly is quoted ubiquitously when people don't want to go to church.  Why, when they hear one thing they don't agree with, do they claim we are all the same?

We have to stand up and speak the truth.  I really think it is our responsibility to talk about the existence of churches who seek answers in inclusive, humble ways--churches who welcome those seeking answers to difficult problems--churches who don't claim to be God, but seek to serve God--churches who seek to follow Jesus' example of loving neighbor and serving others.

But when judgmental/crazy/just-plain-stupid churches get the publicity (and they do because they are much more interesting in an hour show than inclusion/seeking/working-together-til-we-solve-the-issue-but-not-in-an-hour-churches), we sit silently--tacitly accepting and promoting the "wrongness" of the church.

Kurt's definition of human relationship as sacred at the end of the show holds some true appeal.  It's always compelling to define sacred in something you can touch and hold onto.  That is the fundamental power of sacraments--we can see and taste and feel the elements that point us to God.  But what happens if Kurt's father dies?  Does the sacred die too?  I think the relationship between Kurt and his father is, indeed, sacred, because it holds a connection to the divine.  It parallels/reflects what God has done with and for us--it is not sacred in its own existence between two humans.

We are God's children.  God "holds our hand."  And would Kurt have experienced the "sacred" as his father squeezed his hand if they had not had the "I accept you" conversation in the first season?  Would a human relationship maintain its sacred nature if violence or abuse was present?

But my point, if not lost in all the scattershot ways I responded to the episode, is this.  Thanks, Glee, for opening a conversation with the world.  We'll chuckle at "dear Grilled Cheeseus" and we'll think about the songs you chose to reflect faith.  But we'll answer the question not with the question "What if God was one of us?", but with the knowledge that God was one of us...God is one of us.  Step up, brothers and sisters, and speak the grace we know in Jesus Christ.

How Many Elephants??!!!...

I was listening to NPR this morning while completing mind-numbing early morning ablutions.  The question addressed was how much a hurricane weighs.  That led me to a number of follow-up questions.  Do female hurricanes have more problems with water retention weight than male hurricanes?  Do they weigh more if they have more muscle (so a category 4 is more toned than a category 2)?  Is there a healthy weight for a hurricane--one beyond which insurance rates go up or they have to buy more than one spot on the weather map?

But, seriously, this guy researched the weight of hurricanes--and here's the skinny.  Weight numbers are so large that the researcher decided to help listeners understand better by putting weight in elephant numbers.  (Weighing as much as an elephant...yeah, I can relate to that.)  One small, white, fluffy cloud--one--weighs as much as 100 elephants (that's 4000 pounds times 100).   One storm cloud which spends a good deal of time and energy "up-taking" moisture (kinda like eating chocolate or french fries)...the moisture this storm cloud takes up is 500 elephants PER SECOND (oh my), and the storm itself weighs 15 million elephants.  Hurricane Rita--100 million elephants.

We spend so much time every day in fear...worried about this and that...mostly things we can do nothing about.  I was struck this morning as I looked in the mirror and brushed my teeth with a comparatively microscopic amount of elephant moisture...this great God who holds up a cloud that weighs 100 elephants knows my name.

What do I have to worry about?

Risking our Lives for our Faith...

It's been a difficult week.  My frustration levels on some days grow like kudzu...even in one day they can overwhelm.  And most of the frustration revolves around money...money...money.... Money seems to wrap itself in a thick, sticky, impenetrable coat of fear, with a candy coating of anxiety just for good measure.  (And you thought M & M actually stood for something else!)

I know things aren't great.  10% unemployment is nothing to sneeze at.  But doesn't that also mean that 90% of us are employed?  Every church I know is panicked about budget.  Even those whose budgets are running ahead are not gratefully giving thanks, they are worrying that it won't hold.  Our collection of churches which constitute Salem Presbytery face the same issues.

So what can we cut...oh here's a good one--campus ministry.  In the midst of angst and depression about losing members...some half of our members in the last 20 years, we consider cutting campus ministry.  Is that really where we want to go?  Shouldn't we be raising those budgets?  Do we want to help our young adults stay connected with their faith journey?  Or do we mistakenly assume that we can ignore them in middle school because they are too hard and prickly to deal with, ignore them in high school because culture tells us they don't want to be involved with us, and then ignore them as they create their adult identities in college because we can't afford it?  


Mission.  Hispanic ministry really doesn't pay off.  They don't support the budget.  Never mind that Salem Presbytery's is the second fastest growing ministry in the country and a model for programs all over the country.  Never mind that we are called to minister to people and not profit from them.  Never mind that God has placed this ministry and the resources to serve in our midst.  Is our call to ministry or to fear, anxiety, and a bottom line?

New church development?  Not a chance.  We know that is not going to balance the budget and our last one didn't work, and we can't afford to risk anything right now.

Luke 17:33 challenges this stance we have taken, this choice we have made:
Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it.


Things are difficult.  We are certainly not used to living in this kind of economic climate...this kind of fearful environment.  We are used to living the American dream of bigger, better, and more.  And as I see us frantically clutching anything to save our own lives, I see us also dying.  The harder we try, the worse it gets.  And so, I wonder...what if we lived as God asked.

So, here's where a wise man from Arkansas would say I'm moving from talking to meddling, but this vision is so under my skin that I need to say it.  If we were a tithing people, the PC(USA) could support mission to the poor and the weak and have money left over.  If we let go of our fear and let go of our money, God could do with us more than we can ever imagine.  The giving units just in my church, if they tithed on the median salary in this county (which most of us are well above), would be giving 3/4 of a million dollars a year to God's work through the church...triple what we pledge now.

People everywhere would give up everything to "suffer" as we here in the US are "suffering."  At our worst, we are better off than most of the world.  If I had a magic wand, which, of course, I don't...or if I could be elected dictator of the world, which, of course I'm not...or if I had any control at all, I would change things...

But, God is in charge, and God doesn't coerce like I might.  God asks--laying before us this vision...this vision of a church doing as God asks so we can do as God asks.  Are we willing to let go of what we consider "life?"  I would argue that, fundamentally, in our culture, life = money...are we willing to risk that life to let God work?

What kind of witness would that be to the world?  A tithing people would communicate a different message. We are not afraid.  We depend on God for our life, not our money or our things or our individualism.  We eagerly await and support the Kingdom in whatever form God brings.  We embrace our call to sacrifice--and God does not call us to sacrifice everything, but 10%...one dime out of 10, not very much, really.  Is that really even sacrifice?

It may not be much, but the way we think about life and money, it is risky.  It does require moving beyond fear and clutching and assuming if we don't hold tight, we won't live.  The question God continues to ask is are we willing to risk our lives for our faith.  The promise God makes is that risking death brings life.

I want the PC(USA) to be the institution that leaves behind all conventional wisdom about church.  I want people to look at us and see God at work.  I want to be part of a people who risk their lives for their faith and I want to see God at work in the trust we exhibit.

We don't need a marketing campaign to get "members."  We need to be the people of God--risking our lives for our faith.

Anyone want to take a risk?

BBQ and Sacrifice...

The Facebook post from my seminary-student daughter read: "'There is a fine line between sacrifice and bbq,' that is what I am learning in seminary."  Laugh here...but think about it some more.

Danger lurks in sacrifice as bbq...and great joy.  So on the one hand, the concept of sacrifice in the Old Testament was to be taken seriously...no fooling around.  If the sacrifice turned into an occasion for beer and brats, not a good thing.  The making holy, sanctification, of God's people was a gift not to be trifled with.

On the other hand, priests were allowed to eat the meat offered in sacrifice.  It was part of the support of the priestly class.  There were rules, but bbq was allowed.

So here's the interesting deal.  God's work to redeem us and the signs of that work are overwhelmingly significant.  Baptism is a powerful sign of God's love offered to us before we can even begin to respond.  Communion sustains us with the knowledge that God continues to work in and through us.  Scripture enables us to hear the voice of God.  Christian community gifts us with the experience of grace and forgiveness and the challenge to practice grace and forgiveness with others.  None of that is to be taken lightly.

On the other hand (again), God works in and through very ordinary people and elements to accomplish God's purposes.  The water of baptism is just plain water, communion is just plain bread and wine/juice...no magic.  God is so....well...God...that there is no way for us to know/see/relate to GOD.  But God loves us so much that God makes Godself known through the simple, the plain, the human.

So, there is a fine line between sacrifice and bbq...Thank GOD!

Seeing me...seeing thee...

Returned to classes yesterday saying goodbye to Saturdays for the next twelve weeks and hello to friends and community that is missed as the garage gets cleaned.  Luke 14:l5-24 was the peg on which the convocation speaker hung his remarks--the story of the dinner party.  A man invites many to dinner and sends his servant to tell them "all is ready."  They begin to beg off...work, family, life...all interfere with coming to the table.  So the servant is sent into the streets for misfits, homeless, wretched...all those who normally do not get invited to dinner.

Making the point in several different ways, the speaker challenged both our excuse-making and our outcast-inviting.  All are welcome in the Kingdom.  Do we respond or make excuses?  Do we bring the weakest and neediest in with us.

It was food for thought and food for nourishment because attached to the challenge was the invitation to communion...a dinner party at the Lord's table.  Elements were prepared, prayers prayed, and no one seemed to make excuses to avoid the table (OK...except me...does a wheat allergy get you in trouble not coming to the dinner? :))

BUT...the point was this.  As the row in front of me stood to go to the dinner...to be spiritually and physically fed with God's love and provision...the speaker's 8 year old remained seated.  She was not allowed by her faith tradition to participate in the meal.

I respect that there are differences interpreting these religious practices, and I know the arguments because I was a child of that religion who sat in the pew excluded from the feast for a good while.  The question kept hammering at my heart though...I hope she didn't listen too closely to her daddy's sermon.  She might have expected an invitation to the dinner...

And I wondered as I wondered about this later...what in my own practice do I not see?  It seems so clear that the child should be fed.  It's easy to "see thee."  I am looking more carefully to "see me" as the invited and as the inviting.

God, open our eyes...

Fall Cleaning...

Some people do spring cleaning.  I do fall.  Partly it is my job as we get ready to start graded Sunday school after a summer of intergenerational fun.  Partly it is necessary after being gone a lot in the summer and having loads of stuff "dumped" into my office for want of a better place.

I do it at home, too.  There is something cathartic about pulling dead plants out of the garden and detritus out of the garage.  The joke in my family is not to stand around too much or they will be out with the garbage....can't say that I'm not sometimes tempted.

I heard a radio segment yesterday about "people" who are given false information and then presented with a correction.  The overwhelming response is to "harden" their belief in the mistake rather than admit to being wrong.  Sigh...

When we believe in a God who has faced the worst possible consequence of wrongness--death--and prevailed, what are we afraid of?  My fall home and church cleaning is about half-way done. My fall faith-cleaning is going to start with not being afraid to throw out useless beliefs and open the way for light and air and Spirit to move and work in me.

Hurricane...

North Carolina is having a hurricane.  Last I saw, it was a level 4...perhaps to hit at level 3 if we were lucky.  The coast was battered most of the night and heavy wind and rain still makes its presence known.

My husband and I drank coffee on the back porch under a still, cloudless, blue sky.  The air was cool and the dogs spastic as usual.  Who would have thought a hurricane was even possible.

I am reminded this morning that the person sitting next to me on Sunday morning or standing in the check-out line at the grocery may be drinking coffee under blue skies or may be in the midst of gale force winds.  It's interesting that we can be so close and still so far away.

In the name of Christ...

To quote Anne Rice, renouncing the label "Christian" while saying she remains "committed to Christ."
In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay.  I refuse to be anti-feminist.  I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control.  I refuse to be anti-Democrat...My conversion from a pessimistic atheist...to an optimistic believer in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me.  But following Christ does not mean following his followers."


If anyone would like to quote me:
In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay.
I refuse to be anti-feminist.
I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control.
I refuse to be anti-Democrat (or Republican)
Believing in a universe created and sustained by a loving God is crucial to me
     (and to the world, whether they know it yet or not.)
Following Christ means reclaiming the label "Christian"...
     not leaving the church to those who misunderstand who Jesus is and what following him means.

Growing Disciples...

Growing disciples is not some program for "children" or "youth" or a few adults who continue to come to Sunday school.  Growing in our discipleship and growing other disciples is something God expects of us 24/7/365...something we are expected to do in and with the Christian community.  The process started long before we came on the scene and will continue long after us.  It works through our participation and God's Spirit..

Craig Dykstra, professor of Christian education at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and Princeton Theological Seminary and now a vice-president for Religion at the Lilly Endowment tells a great story that explains how we teach. (Growing in the Life of Faith, p. 72, slightly paraphrased)
     This is precisely what coaches and mentors do— and work hard at doing well— when they are intentionally striving to help others learn to do something better. Often a coach will teach by demonstrating something, by making one of the essential moves and asking the learner to watch.
     Then the words begin.
           Questions: What did you see happen at the start of my swing?
           Descriptions: What I’m doing is planting my right foot and bringing my right arm close to my side to start the action of the swing properly.
           Explanations and reasons:  What that does is shift your weight and the momentum of the swing toward the target so you can hit the ball hard.
           Then, the coach suggests the learner try it…and the process starts again.

A definitive switch occurs in the ninth chapter of Luke. Up to that point, Jesus lived his faith, healing, praying, loving, serving without a lot of explanation. As he turns toward Jerusalem, we see him focus on growing his disciples, and suddenly, he is teaching at every turn. You can see the difference in the explanation/questioning/challenging when you look at the text. Jesus is not just living the way, he is teaching his disciples… using descriptions, explanations and reasons… asking them to try…and starting the process again.

That is what it means, I think, to help each other grow in the faith.  To reach our potential, we have to do more than show up and watch on Sunday mornings.  To help our children, we have to follow the same process with our faith that we do with our sports.  Participation...questioning...descriptions...explanations and reasons...challenges to try again.  To help ourselves, we have to be in relationship with fellow disciples who will follow those same steps with us...and us with them.

Often, we act like becoming a disciple is some mystery that only a few people can accomplish.  As I read the text and listen to Jesus, it seems a relatively simple process that we are never asked to master, only to faithfully follow.  I see it work with those who fully engage in the questions, the descriptions, the explanations and reasons. 

God's promises are ours already, but the potential for so much more is ready for us.  I wonder what we are waiting for.

Stepping Back...

David Brooks wrote a great article in the NYTimes about the weakness in our country's moral character, specifically lamenting the mental component.  He compares the early 1800's to today's willingness and ability to consider our weaknesses, our sinfulness, the possible "wrongness" in our positions and opinions. He says:
In this atmosphere, we’re all less conscious of our severe mental shortcomings and less inclined to be skeptical of our own opinions. Occasionally you surf around the Web and find someone who takes mental limitations seriously. For example, Charlie Munger of Berkshire Hathaway once gave a speech called “The Psychology of Human Misjudgment.” He and others list our natural weaknesses: We have confirmation bias; we pick out evidence that supports our views. We are cognitive misers; we try to think as little as possible. We are herd thinkers and conform our perceptions to fit in with the group.


Nothing is really new here...thirty years ago when I studied persuasion a la Aristotle we were discussing the same thing.  What is new in the mix is the ability to so completely avoid facts and opinions with which we disagree and the constant stream of unverified, even false information used as gospel truth.  Brooks says:
To use a fancy word, there’s a metacognition deficit. Very few in public life habitually step back and think about the weakness in their own thinking and what they should do to compensate. 


As I work on the bulletin for Sunday's service, I prepare the corporate, public, confession of sin.  If we take it seriously, we are publicly "stepping back and thinking" about our weaknesses, hopefully considering what we might do to compensate, and then rejoicing that even in our weakness we are forgiven and have a new start through the grace of God.


My young adult children are grieving the tone of the political debate and the apparent brokenness of our way of trying to live together as a country.  They wonder what can be done.  They wonder what they can do.  They feel hopeless and helpless.


Me too, sometimes.  But is that one strength of corporate worship?   If we worship in awareness and not in habit on most Sundays (recognizing, or course, in a very reformed way that our worship will never be perfect, from outside or inside...) does that allow God (and encourage us) to work on building our moral character?  Isn't it interesting that church is one of the few places left that "steps back" on a regular basis.  


Course, that doesn't mean that we can always see our weaknesses--even as church...but I suppose it can be a start.  Stepping back now...

Faith IN the mess...

So my Friday is my Saturday. Because I work on Sundays, my weekends start after work on Thursday and because I go to school on Saturday, my weekend ends at the end of the day on Friday. So Friday I am up at 5 (because I take after my crazy father who gets up at five instead of my crazy mother who goes to bed at five...both a.m.) and I read several chapters for class, empty the dishwasher, make coffee and breakfast, then I wash the dog, shower, and got ready for my "day off."

I usually have a nice cup of coffee with my husband, and then I hit the pharmacy and the grocery store before I go home to dust, vacuum, and do more homework.

That's not to say I dust and vacuum every day off. Sometimes I mow and rake. Sometimes I clean the garage. Sometimes I clean out closets or run errands.

What I can't seem to find is that idea of weekend that I thought I'd have when I was imagining what being an adult would be like. Walking through the lush green spinach and lettuce of a backdoor garden and smiling at the rabbits having a snack in your private produce department...reading the whole New York Times cover to cover with coffee, white terry robes, and a very handsome man in my very luxurious bedroom with a table and chairs, sofa, and, of course bed with breakfast tray...sailing in a beautiful boat with good friends and good wine...hiking the Appalachian Trail in very cool boots and shorts...dinner parties in your backyard garden at big farmer's tables with tablecloths and plates overflowing with beautiful food, candles, and no pile of dirty dishes waiting in the kitchen...do you get the picture?

I sometimes look for that in my faith. I want that faith that allows your head to glow with a heavenly light and your eyes to glisten with just the hint of tears of joy and fulfillment. I want a faith that allows me to turn water into wine and have a heck of a party with my 200 closest friends. I want a faith that allows me to walk on water without ruining the topsiders.  I want a faith that inspires people to want to build temples in my honor...a faith that packs the house and brings more in.

But I don't live in the TV world and the longer I live and the more I read of the scripture, the more I realize that the childhood perspective of miracles as magic is wrong.  Jesus eats with sinners...probably means bad food and less than opulent accomodations.  Jesus heals lepers...nasty disease in case you forgot.  Jesus challenges the status quo and winds up on a Roman cross for his efforts to love God and neighbor.

Faith is in the mess.  Faith is where we do live...not where we want to live...and that, I think, is the miracle.I don't have to create the fantasy to find faith.  It's in the real world with me!!

Amazing VBS Grace...

Honestly, it was a little hard to get "pumped" for VBS this year.  Our church lost two families to relocation, a couple more families were out of town, and so I didn't really know how this was going to work at all.  We do an intergenerational/missional Bible School...classes for all ages...but then everyone comes together for service projects at the end.  Adults help/mentor kids.  Kids entertain adults.  It's cool.  But I wasn't sure anyone would come.

It ended last night...and Grace (yes, with a capital G) abounded.  Here are precious moments that graced me:

1.  Our youngest, Caroline (14 mths), was fascinated with the huge mural of Noah and family disembarking the Ark on the wall of the fellowship hall.  It has been there for years and many of us who have seen it day in and day out for years, love it, but don't pay much attention to it.  If she was in the room, she was at the mural.  Look, a rabbit, an alligator, people, clouds.  She entertained us...she reminded us of the beauty that graces our lives...she was entranced by the story in living color. "Come as a little child."

2.  My oldest daughter remarked on the way home from the last night that being a kid at Forest Hills Presbyterian Church was like having your faith nurtured by one set of parents and 20 naughty uncles (and aunts)  who loved to spend all their time playing with you...she is right...and they also hold you accountable, teach you all they know, and love you no matter what!



3. We studied the Bible and laughed til we hurt...no pictures of this...we were too busy studying and laughing...

4.  Young adults who shared time and talent to teach and model what it means to be a disciple of Christ...coolest ever...ever.........ever...

 5.  Three generations together in faith...one yet to appear...

 6.  Good friends...

      7.  Generations...

8.  Hearts and hands for service...(weeding the garden at Northwood School to get it ready for the kids return)

        9.  Silliness...

.

10.  More silliness...












And at the end...our faith grows...our community thrives...our blessings abound.  Amazing Grace, indeed!

"Grow up"

Sometimes you get insight from God in a Mt. Sinai experience with thunder and bolts of fire. Sometimes God is in the still small voice that you hear after the cacophony of wind and storm. And sometimes it just appears as a “duh” in the most mundane of moments. Wouldn’t you know, that would be my experience. No excitement, nothing to write a book about…just a “I-can’t-believe-I-never-thought-about-that-before” revelation.

We were chatting at Montreat…high schoolers thinking about leaving for college in a year or two and college students talking about their experiences being away from home. Some kids leave their home church and quickly find a new church home. Others visit around and never find anything that “feels” right.

And I found myself saying, “You know, when you leave home as a freshman in college and start looking for churches, you look to find a place where you feel like you did when you were ‘at home.’ When you are in your home church, you are children to be nurtured. Everyone takes care of you, loves you, provides for you. The churches you visit see you as young adults, not as children to be cared for. When you join as a young adult, you are expected to serve the church and nurture others. So it doesn’t feel the same. But what I do know is that when you step into that adult role and serve others, your faith is nurtured and you do feel part of a community—that part is the same.”

OK…where did that come from? I have never had those thoughts before…but there is was, and, to me, it made perfect sense. Looking at my own children, the one who expected to go and “be served” never found a place that felt right while she was in college. The ones who went and began to serve others…found that church “home.” Through hundreds of years and millions of different churches in my life (OK, a bit overstated), I have known people who come in to be “served” and pretty soon disappear because church just doesn’t “feel” right. And I have known people who come in to “serve” who very shortly are so much a part of the community that you would never know they were “new.”

I have a new message that needs to be communicated to our children and youth before they leave home. There is a time to be “grown” in faith and a time to “grow” others. Now, while you are a child of the church, now is the time to be “grown.” When you leave home, it will be the time to expect to “grow” others. Some of the young people thought it was a bit frightening to leave home and have to be an adult. Perhaps it is, but we adults also assured them that it was fun and rewarding, challenging and rich with experience. I have a great childhood in the church. I was loved and nurtured and taken care of. But now as one who, like every other adult in the church, is called to nurture others, the depth of my faith and the sense of peace in good times and difficult times is one I wouldn’t trade for all the childhood love in the world.

God's word from Ephesians
Everything you are and think and do is permeated with Oneness.
But that doesn't mean you should all look and speak and act the same. Out of the generosity of Christ, each of us is given his own gift. The text for this is,
He climbed the high mountain,
He captured the enemy and seized the booty,
He handed it all out in gifts to the people…
[Jesus] handed out gifts above and below, filled heaven with his gifts, filled earth with his gifts. He handed out gifts of apostle, prophet, evangelist, and pastor-teacher to train Christ's followers in skilled servant work, working within Christ's body, the church, until we're all moving rhythmically and easily with each other, efficient and graceful in response to God's Son, fully mature adults, fully developed within and without, fully alive like Christ.

No prolonged infancies among us, please… God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and tell it in love—like Christ in everything. We take our lead from Christ, who is the source of everything we do. He keeps us in step with each other. His very breath and blood flow through us, nourishing us so that we will grow up healthy in God, robust in love. Ephesians 4:6-16 (The Message)

Thanks be to God…even if he did just tell us to “grow up.”

Back....

A bit of a vacation from life and blogging...probably more like complete collapse from a summer filled with extraordinary opportunities but no sleep. 

I have a million things to talk about and the sense that I don't even know where to start.  When people come back from retreats or mission trips they often cannot find words to express their experiences.  If they do find words, it's hard to get them to make sense to people who have never been on a retreat or mission trip.  Encounters with the holy are like that...hard to describe...impossible to experience through someone else.

And, frankly, I'm not sure anyone would count what I have done this summer as an "encounter with the holy."  I drywalled a house in Louisianna.  I coached youth in worship leadership...repeating the words "slow down" until the kids will never be able to remove those words from their psyche.  I hung out with kids from my own church as they got their summer retreat fix and explored issues of faith and life together.

Jesus didn't show up at our dinner table for fish and bread.  No burning bushes appeared--which was probably good because we certainly didn't need any more heat or humidity.  None of us were transformed in ways that caused those around us to want to build temples on our behalf.  We worked and sweated and laughed and learned.  We loved each other and hated each other.  We paid deliberate attention to our faith every day, but not in ways that would get us elected pope. 

But God was there with us.  And God was speaking to us through each other and the scripture and the experiences which showed us both God's kingdom here and how and the need for God's kingdom to come quickly.  And while I wondered for a few days if I was going to die, I would do it again tomorrow.  I can't articulate the impact, but I can feel it.

I Just Want to be Part of Something...

We were watching a slide show at keynote one morning at Montreat and a slide flashed of a young adult with the caption, "I just want to be part of something."  It really slammed into me.  I think,  more than any other saying about teens or young adults, that describes them exactly.  They want friends because they want to be part of something.  They constantly look for "things to do" because they want to be part of something.  They join gangs or get into real trouble because they "just want to be part of something."

That ought to be good news for the church of Jesus Christ.  Boy are we part of something.  And boy do we not act like it.  We seem a bit embarrassed to admit we get up on a Sunday to go to....church?  We can sometimes find a million reasons not to admit that we need that spiritual food along with our cheeseburger.  We find it easy to insist on practice for sports and arts and even school, but accept any excuse from ourselves or our children to miss "practice" for faith.

One of the delights of Montreat Youth Conference is the abandon with which teens 1) expect to have a God encounter, 2) wait impatiently to get in the doors at worship and keynote and fight for front seats, 3) find ways to support each other in faith, 4) share their faith openly and verbally with each other and the world.

And then we come home and under the weight of the world's disapproval we revert to our convenient, not-so-challenging practices...and we suffer for it--and God's world suffers for it.  Because as children of God, we are part of saving the world.  We are not doing the saving, thank goodness, but we carry the message of God's saving grace.  We do the work of God's hands in our world.  We point to the kingdom of God when it breaks through in the here and now; we look for the final completion of the kingdom in the future.

"I just want to be part of something."  Let me tell you...I am part of something. We are part of the biggest "something" that ever blessed the earth.  A week at Montreat youth conference will show you what might happen if we all lived every day as if it was Montreat week.  The challenge is put to us yearly to bring our Montreat blessings back to our everyday life.

Will we see each other on the front pews in Sunday worship?  Will we be waiting for the doors to open?  Will we daily find ways to support each other's faith journey?  Will we answer God's call to change the world with God's love as we share our faith openly with each other and with the world?

Good Grief...

A special light in the faith family of which I am privileged to be a part is a young woman who inspires and leads us all with her passion for faith and sharing faith with others.  She has answered God's call to be a leader wherever she is...serving our church as its first youth elder...serving the greater church in conference leadership...serving God in her daily walk...sharing God's love with everyone she encounters.

Frustrations abound as she practices her faith.  You cannot answer God's call without frustration.  But she recognizes that God is working and she journeys on.  She heads to seminary in the fall.

She shared with us last night what all of us who serve the church experience.  With the excitement and challenge of serving as we are called, we also grieve the loss of those communities that nurtured us.  We can't worship on Sundays with those people who raised us in the faith.  We lead worship.  We can't enjoy Christmas Eve services in the community that first blessed us with God's love.  We preach those services.  We can't celebrate all the baptisms, confirmations, graduations, youth Sundays, (insert celebration here) of our friends and families because we are celebrating all those baptisms, confirmations, graduations, and youth Sundays in the churches to which we have been called.

The call of ministry is a blessing.  I can tell you that I have been nurtured and I have loved many congregations in the body of Christ.  Every church I have attended has blessed my life.  But I, with all my colleagues, also grieve.

I think what I am discovering is, in the life of faith, sacrifice and blessing walk hand in hand.  Pain and growth are inescapably intertwined.  And the ability to trust the journey of faith, even when it looks nothing like what we had imagined, is part of our call, whether we are called to ministry of Word and Sacrament, or whether we are doctors or lawyers or teachers or sports reporters.  We may be called to sacrifice things we love...things we never imagined we could do without...things that we don't want to give up.  But the blessings pour in, and we have the opportunity to bless others.  And it is good.

Home...

Closing day at Montreat...and I am being pulled toward home...so much so that I am going to leave after worship instead of at 5 in the morning just to be at home.  There is a bed here...nice people just like home...food...maybe AC at home that I don't have here, but it hasn't stopped me from sleeping so far.  But it is home.

The Jeremiah Project youth performed an interpretation of the end of Revelation this morning, the celebration of God's kingdom here on earth...God living with God's people...all people.  The river of life that flows though the streets of the city, healing and bringing together the nations.  No more tears, pain, mourning...IT IS DONE!  God's kingdom is here!!

Home.  God's home.  Our God.  With us.  Part of my journey of faith is being pulled toward home...God's home...our God...with us.  Pain, mourning, tears...no AC...still with us...but the glimpses we have of this kingdom to come...this kingdom here, now...pulls toward home.

God, keep pulling...I want to be home.

Ah-ha Moments

I love ah-ha moments.  Nothing is more satisfying that seeing someone "get" something.  Yesterday, we were talking about reading scripture in worship.  Youth read once, however they thought it should be read...then I asked them to read like they would be talking with a peer...another teen they were mad at.  The tonalities changed completely, and in this grou,p there was an audible gasp on the difference.

Which do you prefer?  The second, of course. It made so much sense hearing it read the way we would have normally communicated with each other.  The dynamic of the readings completely changed.  They transformed into a powerful word from God instead regurgitating words from the Bible.

God gives us language so we can share with each other.  Granted, the challenge is greater when we are using the language of a more formal translation.  But we have learned the power of "communicating" even the more formal words with the same passion that we use talking with each other.

God brings our words alive when we believe them, understand them, and share them with others.  And when people hear God's words (even through us...) ah-ha moments abound!

Prissy Preacher...

We sat down and made a list of things we really like in worship...things that help us connect with the holy...things that inspire and motivate us in our Christian journey. That list was written under the highly theological symbol of the "happy face." Under the "sad face" went all the things that distract us or keep us from effective worship.

One of the biggies under the sad face was "preacher talk." "Preacher talk" is when the preacher talks one way when she/he is talking to you face-to-face, then goes into highly formal, "prissy" speech in the pulpit. We all agreed that drives us crazy. "Why can't people be 'real,' even in the pulpit?" we lamented.

Then, the youth got into the pulpit to do liturgy and put on their "preacher voices." Paul asks, "Why do I do the things I hate?" I always thought he was talking about some special sin...but now I think it might have been prissy preacher talk.

Stuck in the Mud...

 We were talking worship yesterday in this worship-focused small group, and we were talking about different worship practices and what we do in our churches.  the youth, as expected, made assumptions about what older people would like and would dislike in church.  the ubiquitous comment about change bringing out the "fussy" in people emerged.  Heads nodded.  The conversation moved on.

Then one of the kids retraced their steps and said, "You know, this thing about changing worship...We worship in a certain way here at Montreat and if anyone came in and changed it, we would have a fit!"

We seem to like our ways of doing things...even when they are boring or stuck or no longer effective.  It is hard for us to imagine change or to do change.  And if we are led into change for whatever reason, there comes a point where we actually struggle to go back...even if we have liked the change.  Human nature...

The other part of the conversation revolved around assumptions.  (I won't insert the joke about assumptions here...)  The youth are frustrated that adults assume that they all like contemporary worship.  Many of them really like the traditional worship that their churches offer.  They also like other things.  variety is good...especially when it is good.  They are frustrated that adults make the assumption that they don't want to be involved in the church or that they do not like the church as it is.

I shared with them that most adults...no matter how old...really have the "brain" of a 26-30 year old.  True isn't it?  If you are 50 don't you still feel about 30 in your head?  That's the frustration of the achy joints and the memory that is full of junk-you-don't-need-so-you-can't-remember-what-you-do-need.

So we concluded that worship style and preference is not a function of age, it is a function of familiarity.  Perhaps we should stop making assumptions about each other and start listening... "like" really listening to each other.

I Stand Amazed...

I have the privilege of leading a small group at Montreat Youth Conference this week named the Jeremiah Project.  The title comes from the Jeremiah's call...including text that God encourages Jeremiah to not let anyone stop him from speaking for God because of his youth.

We have done many things at the last minute, and I have ten kids who have stepped up to the plate...giving far more of their time than they anticipated at the beginning.  Much of the normal "free time" you have at Montreat to be with your friends has been devoted to rehearsals.  They are the definition of sacrificial giving. 

Today's challenge for faith and real life is to listen to these kids.  They are certainly not perfect...no adult is either...but their dedication and willingness to sacrifice to share the good news of God's salvation has inspired and blessed the multitudes...

Lift them in your prayers...

Work

We work...work...work...work...work...work...work...work...all the live long day...

Or some iteration of that was sung by the seven dwarfs...remember?!  So we work...work...work...

and then....

we play!

Question of the day...does working all day in 100 degree heat and humidity make one's brain turn to mush?

Sharing...

Bayou Blue was really last night's post...but I had to go to bed last night and didn't get it finished this am before we had to stop.

Tonight's post is on sharing.  We share meals, pods, ink pens, snacks, ideas, grace, patience, knowledge, and...

wait for it...

poison ivy. 

Some boys clearing the yard got into the PI.  Drew is fine...no reaction.  Nick is a little affected.  Adam is pretty broken out. 

The kindness my son showed as he rubbed my shoulders has shared the love...and the PI...

My mother used to say (when she was totally exasperated)...don't help me...

I'm not saying it...but next time I'm going to make him wash his hands before he shares the love...

Bayou Blue...

"Praise Jesus for the connectional church!"

Actually, it was more like "PRAISE JESUS FOR THE CONNECTIONAL CHURCH!!!!!"

Jill's voice representing the bayou Blue Presbyterian Church literally rang out in the gym where they fed us a spread of Cajun dishes that would choke a horse (as my grandmother would say).  We were sooo stuffed physically...then we got fed spiritually--this woman was a remarkable witness to faith.

Bayou Blue Presbyterian was founded more than 100 years ago by a Presbyterian missionary who wanted to offer services in their native Cajun French instead of the Roman Catholic liturgy in Latin.  Many of the people who served us last night were related to the folks who founded the congregation...great-great grandparents.  This tiny church began serving volunteers right after Katrina and have not missed a week since.  This week alone they will serve more than 250 people.

Jill spoke about their experience.  The people who live in the bayous of this are are independent and interdependent.  They work hard to take care of themselves and harder to take care of each other.  After Katrina, which didn't hit them hard, they opened their doors and their school and their hearts to anyone and everyone.  Their community doubled in size in weeks.  They were busy giving and giving and giving.  Then, Rita struck--a direct hit.

Jill's words were, "We couldn't see the forest for the trees."  There was so much devastation on top of the chaos from taking in so many people from New Orleans that they couldn't even see where to start.  So others started for them.  Volunteers did a little and a lot, and with every little bit, the community healed...and heals.  Jill told the story of her grandmother always insisting to her that she be grateful to be part of a connectional church.  "Praise Jesus you are a part of the connectional church!  "PRAISE JESUS YOU ARE A PART OF A CONNECTIONAL CHURCH."

We are writing you postcards tonight because we are grateful to be part of a connectional church.  We belong to FHPC, but we also belong to Metairie Ridge Presbyterian and to Bayou Blue Presbyterian and to Christ's church all over the world.

"PRAISE JESUS, WE ARE A PART OF CHRIST'S CHURCH!!!"

Perception...

Meet our mascot...

We'd like to tell you his/her name, but we can't think of one.  Suggestions would be welcome.  No criteria except reminding us of our trip...thank goodness for the connectional church.

Day Three...still kicking...

Lots and lots of happy, verbal frogs...much like a chorus of Jr. High boys making armpit noises with their hands...you know the ones I'm talking about--the noises, not the boys.  Rain starting about 3 and continuing steadily through the evening and off and on during the night.  The paper mache tent did not leak...yet.

The kids continue to be amazing.  If your teen ever drives you crazy doing nothing, you need to come on one of these trips.  We arrived at Mrs. Hill's house yesterday at about 9:30.  Her yard was filled with aluminum cans, construction trash. and a collection of "stuff" that we all thought needed to be thrown away.  She also had one of the cutest puppies ever...mix of shepherd and pit bull...beautiful dog but completely puppy.  The lucky youth were assigned to take the dog for a walk first..."take a guy with you to be safe"...so Jay went. 

The rest of us started with the clean up, which made Mrs. Hill very nervous.  A group started putting cans into plastic bags so they could be taken to the recycling center.  I think we wound up with about 10 bags of cans...smushed ones.  Yeah, that many were in the yard.  The boys began to take the construction trash to the curb.

Instructions..."Put the trash between the two trees on the line between my house and the neighbor's house...they'll pick it up (meaning, we think, the trash guys).  We walked to find the two trees and found no trees...it finally dawned on us that there were two dead trees piled up in the ditch...huge piles of trash that had been there a while (with  no trash pick up)...ah ha!...we dumped! (learning in the meantime that assumptions make an .....well, you know that one too.)

Some primed new wood to paint later.  Mrs. Hill hovered and kept telling us not to throw things away..."just leave it," she'd say.  So we did...but as the morning went on and the trash cleared...as the flower beds were weeded and the yard was reclaimed, she began saying..."yeah, go ahead and put that in the front."  It was an amazing transformation and at the end of the morning we had done everything we could do without a chainsaw and we went to Wal-mart and bought her some new plants to replace ones she had lost in the cold weather last winter.  (She loves to plant things.)  It's hard to know how much work they did without being there...but you'll have to trust me, it was massive.

Afternoon brought a swamp tour with a hilarious guy.  The swamp is beautiful.  The one thing I wanted was the miracle of silence...I just wanted to be in the swamp and hear no teens...alas...but it was quite the adventure.  Carolyn or Molly asked if people swam in the swamp, but about that time the gators arrived to get their chicken treats from the driver and the question of swimming became a moot point.

The guys did a great devotion and we collapsed at about 10...check Facebook for pics... Tonight, food and fellowship at the Cajun Pres church...Bayou Blue Presbyterian...more later...

BTW...we are grateful for messages and texts...they lifted our spirits and fed our souls.  God is good!

Day two...it gets better...

Your youth made you soooo proud at Metairie Ridge Presbyterian church.  I have pics but we'll post tomorrow.  suffice it to say that about 40 people worshiped with us, or rather we worshiped with them.  They even moved to the front even though no one thought they would.  It was a beautiful service.

We have lucked out with the forecast...much rain expected but that will keep the temps in the high 80's instead of the high 90's.  Good for us.  We spent several hours in the French Quarter.  Joe loves beignets...surprised even him.  Never ask Adam Utley for directions.  Carolyn can manage to not make friends with strangers when asked.  Yes, Meghan, it is true that people try to pick your pockets or steal your stuff.  (She was smart and ready, BTW.)

Houma is big-sky beautiful.  We are living in folded paper tents.  (See what you have to tune in to see tomorrow?!)  There are huge black bugs...crickets on steroids...and little green tree frogs are EVERYWHERE.  It is so wild that Carolyn decided against snacks in her pod.  Smart....

We have eaten too many hot dogs.  Probably will eat more.  Joe insists only on Kraft mayo and eats it on peanut butter sandwiches...eewww.  We all sweat.  We all are exhausted but are looking forward to sleeping well in our tinfoil...

Grace and peace!

Do you always think of me when you shave your legs?

"Do you always think of me when you shave your legs?"

That was the serious question in the van before we got out of the parking lot.  Nothing like taking a group of teens on a mission to illuminate the real significant questions of faith.  Why had it never crossed my mind?  In the quiet darkness of the pre-dawn, the question was asked that revealed the truth in all relationships.

I don't really know that it can get better than that...but if it does, I'll let you know.

God's World...

I know a middle schooler who went to a youth conference this summer.  She left her world feeling just like every other middle school girl in our society...fat, ugly, lonely.  (Even though she is not any of these things...in any way...)  She came home reminded that she is a beautiful, beloved, child of God...celebrating and able to see the beauty in herself, her family, her community, and her church--local and global.

Almost as soon as she got home and reported the transformative power of choosing to spend a week in Christian community focused on learning, worshiping, and serving God, she began grieving the impossibility of living in that world in her "real life."  Too bad it can't last.  There is no way to live like that except at church camp.

It is definitively more difficult, but is our very call, is it not?  I have often wanted to be one of those early church fathers...living alone in the desert with the other hermits living alone in the desert...and being fed and supported by people from the surrounding towns who brought food and supplies to support the mystics in their prayerful search for the divine.  Their wisdom is beautiful.  Their words, inspirational.  Their lives, unreal.  Jesus Christ didn't separate himself from very messy humanity.  He did the exact opposite of the church folks of the day...instead of excluding those fat, lonely, ugly people, he loved them.  He reached out and showed them God's unconditional love, and in so doing, brought the Kingdom of God to the here and now.  Though it is easier to be spiritual as a desert hermit, it is not what God calls most of us to do.

One of our youth spent a week at a counselor at the same camp and posted on Facebook that she had just arrived home and wanted to go right back.  True.  It is soooo much easier to live in the presence of God without the messy reality we call life.  But we are called to that messy world.  The ability, with God's help, to live as a beautiful, beloved, child of God in the midst of the message of insignificance and devaluation that surrounds us is the greatest evangelism work ever.

No one does it perfectly.  There are days that we all slip into the ugly, fat, lonely selves.  That's when we need to reach out to our fellow disciples and ask for help.  And if we are remembering our beautiful, beloved, children of God...we better be reaching out our hands and our message to the world...because that is why we are here...to bring God's love to the world.

Our middle schooler's parents were wise and challenging.  They reminded her that she could choose the world in which she lives.  Now that you have experienced God's Kingdom, do you want to choose to live there, or in the American kingdom of consumption, power, and status that leaves all but a few feeling fat, ugly and lonely?  We who have experienced the love of God have that choice.  Our call is to be sure we have shown that kingdom to the world so they, too, have the choice.

It's not about us changing the world.  God has already acted to do that.   We just choose to live there...or not.

Driving to work (at the church) this morning and a big honkin' truck turns in front of me.  I notice it is a septic system clean-out truck with a huge tank on the back.  Wonder if it is full...then notice on the side of the tank the very large script words....JESUS SAVES...

Jesus saves on a truckload of ????....Just thinking...

The Church...

I'm reading Eugene Peterson's Practice Resurrection. ( http://www.eugenepetersononline.com/)  He offers a definition of church: 

Church is the appointed time and place of conversation between the two "beings"--the being of God and the human being.  Both 'beings" get equal time."

If we do not go to church, do we make the effort to appoint a time and place of conversation between ourselves and God?

If we do go to church, do we participate in the conversation or do we just show up and hope for the best?

Everything that God is and everything that we are intersects locally in the company of family and friends and the immediate circumstances of our lives.

You should stop reading me and start reading Peterson...or go to church.

Fundamental Acts...

I was listening to NPR this weekend...People's Pharmacy...crying as I listened.  Strange.  But the guy was a doctor who used poetry in his practice.  He writes.  He helps others write.  And every time he read a poem...I cried.

So aside from feeling totally stupid crying at People's Pharmacy, for goodness sake, I did write down a phrase that he said.  I used to teach writing and have said this a million times to my students (and their freaking-out parents because I required their kids to write): "The fundamental act of writing is putting words on paper."  You cannot write until you are willing to sit down and commit words to paper.  Then, you have something to work with.  You cannot say it is writing until someone else can read it.  You cannot work with your writing until it is written.  And writing well is the art of re-writing...and re-writing...and re-writing.  It is never the act of putting the first words on paper.

So, if the fundamental act of writing is putting words on paper, what is the fundamental act of faith?  Baptism?  Don't think so.  It is easy to be baptized and how many baptized people do you know who would readily admit they have no faith...don't know how to have faith...and perhaps have no interest in seeking faith.  The very thing about faith is the impossibility of defining one specific "fundamental."  In our culture, if we could define that fundamental, we'd have far more response.  Do "A", get "B."  We really like those equations and the message of our time is that it is possible.  The definition of a commercial/billboard/advertisement is "Do 'A', get 'B'."  We think that's how it should work.  I'd be one rich, famous, church professional if I could define "A" and "B" and tell you how to use them.

So having said that, I'll tell you what I think the fundamental is.  "Practice."  For thousands of years as the human race has developed its relationship with the God that created them to be in relationship with God, the "practices" of faith have gotten them there.

I had a conversation years ago with the mother of an early teen in my office asking me what to do to get her daughter involved in and committed to church. I suggested regular attendance at Sunday school and youth fellowship.  The mother explained that the family wasn't committed to coming regularly.  They needed to rest on Sundays and they often used Sundays to catch up on chores at home or to--well--you know--just relax.

OK...but if you don't commit the words to paper...if you don't commit the life to practice...you don't get the writing...you don't get a life of faith.

No parent whose child was on a sports team would even consider skipping practice because everyone was "tired."  Everyone I know easily skips church for fatigue, "mental health days," "insert your excuse here."

There is NO question that church can be boring.  There is no question that we need to rethink how we schedule, what we do, who we are in the "practice" of our faith.  But we are missing step one--the commitment to practice regularly--without excuse.

"The church" is us.  If it needs to be changed, WE must be there and actively work to change it.  Faith is not magic.  It doesn't appear from nowhere to suit us when we need it.  It must be cultivated in an environment in which we submit our wants to a practice of putting God first. Faith will not grow outside of the Christian community...never has...never will.  It might be discovered in a private experience...but it will not grow and develop until we are in that community which requires from us forgiveness, humility, and servant leadership... and which gives to us an embodied grace of God.

Everyone tells me how important faith is in their lives and how they want it for their kids.  Just remember, "The fundamental act of writing is putting words on paper."  The fundamental act of faith is committing to the regular practice in community.  Just saying...

Changing the World?

I have friends who just returned from a trip to Israel/Palestine/Egypt.  One of them was asked what was the most life changing aspect of the trip.  He replied that his perspective on the Israel/Arab conflict had changed.  They met many Palestinians on their trip and had the opportunity to get to know them.  He was surprised to find they were very hard-working, concerned for the welfare of their families and the surrounding neighborhoods and countries, and wanted (as we all do) a chance at a prosperous life.  My friend said he had always been a supporter of Israel, and he still was...but his perspective of Arabs had changed.  "We have to find a solution that works for everyone," he said.

Life changed for people who lived in Northern Ireland when relationships began to build between Protestants and Catholics.  I love this picture which symbolizes all the programs introducing Israeli's and Arab's to each other at young ages to build relationships in the hope for peace.  Jesus Christ built his life and ministry on relationship.  Relationship is the very identity of God...Father, Son, and Spirit.  Consistently Jesus modeled the ability to see people through relationship and not through law or economic status, or social prejudices. 

Even in the most basic conflict in our lives and our churches, I wonder what could change if our fundamental operating mode was what is good for others even when it is not so good for us...I believe it is the "love God, love your neighbor as yourself" stance.  That is undoubtably the hardest thing we are called to do.  Even loving God gets defined through what is best or "healthiest" or most convenient for us. 

My friend's experience reminds me that I need to look again at my relationship with God...then with my fellow travelers in this world and ask God to show me what I can do to build those relationships...moving myself out of the way of God's work.

What an anniversary teaches...

1.  Children's significant activities take precedence over parental significant activities. (Though what better anniversary gift than a dedicated song from a remarkable singer who consists of the gene pool that was created when we said "I do.")
2.  The best intentions meet with reality and have to be modified. (OK...long story, but Carl's gift had to be exchanged in order for his wife to be able to breathe again.)
3.  Church ladies are the same all over the world.  The church ladies that care for my daughter in Greenville are the same as the ones who cared for us as newlyweds...and ever since.  God bless um...
4.  Every day is an adventure...and easy or hard...it is a blessing to share the adventure with my husband of 30 years.
5.  Working hard at relationships, whether it is marriage or faith is what makes life worthwhile...

God Provides...

Much hand-wringing happens in today's churches...especially those in our very wealthy country.  Poor us...economy is weak...salaries are down...church income is down...down...down...down...

Why doesn't God provide for us?  We are, after all, trying to do God's work in the world.  Why is money so hard to come by. 

I think it is Shirley Guthrie who says WE are the church...and if you are complaining about the church, you are definitively complaining about yourself...because church is not some "other" out there...it is what you see when you look in the mirror.  And here's the jarring realization of the week.  God has provided for his church.  He asks each member of the church for 10% of their income.

Now God doesn't say give 10% to charitable causes and be sure a couple percentage point go to the church.  God asks for 10%.  The Old Testament understanding of tithe fascinates me.  EVERYTHING belonged to God.  That meant EVERYTHING was sacred...not for use by humans.  The practice of bringing the first fruits (the famous or infamous 10%) to the temple desacralized the other 90% and made it usable for humans.  Imagine the significance of a practice where you cannot use any of your paycheck until you get the first 10% to the church.

If our church tithed (assuming 10% of a median income in this area...which is probably lower than our actual income) we would literally more than double our church budget.  We would have so many financial resources we would really have to think about what to do with it all. 

Hand wringing is off the table.  Get out the mirrors.  God does provide.

Who is Your Village?

Lots to say this week.  Article in Time Magazine about Bruce Feiler, author of tons of great books.  Feiler was recently diagnosed with an extraordinarily rare form of aggressive cancer (only 100 people get this every year in this country) and faced his mortality more intensely than most of us do at his age...or any age probably. The presence of his three year old daughter immediately set him to thinking who would teach/model/tell her about...instill in her...the qualities that he intended to nurture in her as he raised her.  That led to a new book, Council of Dads, about the men he contacted and the conversations he had with them about helping raise his daughter if he died.

The cancer is in remission, but the idea of a council of dads is rooted in the idea of "body of Christ."  The hardest thing we ever did as parents was try to identify guardians for our young children in case of a disaster.  No one was exactly like us.  In the midst of the craziness we call church, I see its miracle...the sharing of gifts to "mature in the faith."  You see them...a mom who is super organized and has the ability to streamline activities so they are simply done and easily accomplished but who is definitively challenged in the arena of small talk...a wonderful speaker/devotional leader who can't keep track of their calendar appointments...the kindest, most caring person in the world who cannot read the church budget even though its been explained to him a dozen times...the member who is magical with elementary children but totally lost with middle schoolers...or the person who adores middle and high schoolers but cannot deal with a crying infant.

Some of us teach, some preach, some do pastoral care, some budget, some property...if we identify our strengths.  We do other things too...but many of then not so well.  But what an incredible way to construct a world...where different people have different gifts...where only in the working together are we able to accomplish the highest levels of expertise because we can all do what we do best.

I was in a committee meeting once where we were discussion personnel salaries in this church context and the proposal was made to pay everyone on staff an equal amount because all were equally needed to do the jobs we needed to do.  That is the kingdom of God...where the lion and the lamb, the secretary and the boss all give their best and are rewarded the same.

In the meantime...I am grateful to be part of a community that teaches my biological children and my church children the best of all skills and talents through the gifts of the community gathered by God to bring God's love and grace to the world.

Christ in the Headlights...

(Thank you Tom for your brilliance!  I am shamelessly stealing it!)

At a meeting last night we were talking about all the conflict that can arise in church communities between generations or political stances or worship styles or really anything else on which a human can take a stand.  We were talking about disciplining ourselves to remember that each party in conflict is trying to hear and do what they think God wants them to hear and do...we just tend to get smothered in the "oughts" of our own preferences.  Tom suggested it is like a bunch of cars with headlights on bright pointing at each other.  Everyone is blinded by the lights to anything outside their own car.

Remembering to turn our cars to point toward the true "road map" if you want to milk the metaphor...looking toward Jesus Christ...reading the biblical text together...praying together..."driving" together...suddenly we can see the road ahead and we are traveling it together.  The potholes are illuminated and the company is moving forward--still in our own way with our own gifts and kind of car...but together and not blinded by each other.

My picture of faith for the day...

Disturbance...

I was reading the newspaper and the headline story is this one about the Mumbai terrorist that they caught getting a death sentence.  I personally think the death penalty is barbaric, but it is a legal consequence in many judicial systems.  So, I expected a death sentence, but not the disturbance I got.

Look at the picture with the headline:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/07/world/asia/07mumbai.html?hp










The facial expression suits the winning of a lottery...the birth of a child...the opening of a business...the celebration of an anniversary.  NOT the killing of a human being.

I know we live in the "between times."  I know sometimes there are no good answers.  I know that the terrorist "deserved" death...I know we all are guilty of behaviors that lead to the deaths of others, even if we don't plan and implement those deaths.  But should we celebrate like this?

The death of a human created in the image of God should disturb us all any time, any where.  We may implement a human consequence, but we should do so fully aware of the grace that God has extended us and weeping for the brokenness we cannot control.

God forgive us our sins.

Is God Around?

Just finished Jodi Picoult's book Keeping Faith about a seven year old girl who sees and talks to God.  She's a great writer and her books are page turners--but she is not a strong ending writer...If you are going to read the book and insist on being totally surprised...go read someone else's blog.  I'm not spoiling all the ending, just the part about God.

So the whole book is set up to illustrate the inexplicable miracle of faith and how one person's experience touches others.  Even the most skeptical and non-religious around Faith (the child) have to at least consider the possibility of God's love and existence.  No threats of hell, no condemnations...just this presence of loving and healing, and interestingly, suffering.

But at the end of the book, after all the decisions are made (and those I'm not spoiling for you), Faith goes to bed and seeks God and "no one is there."

Why is it that if we are not literally seeing God we assume no one is there and we are not being listened to.  Why do we make the leap that the reality of God's existence is only in the visible, physical presence.  No question that God is often difficult to sense...feelings of God's absence are common...we often can't see where God is or where we are in God.  No argument there.  But understanding God as the creator of our world, the giver of the grace we call Jesus Christ, the gift of salvation for all people...why would we assume that just because we cannot see or feel the work, that God is not working.

I've often wondered what was wrong with the Hebrew people who were brought out of Egyptian slavery by the visible power of God and as soon as things got rough in the wilderness, insisted God was not with them.  Ever had an experience with your child that after feeding them meals, taking them to school and activities, problem-solving with them, perhaps even treating them to ice-cream or allowing them to have friends over, washing their clothes, cleaning their rooms, providing their lodging and sustenance with your own job...then at then end of the day when they do not get the requested designer jeans the charge is..."You just don't love me!"

Ridiculous, right?  But the same assumption is fine when it is us and God.  Oh, poor Faith.  God abandoned her to the evils of the world.  She can no longer see God and no one is listening.

Eugene Peterson in his book Practice Resurrection, reminds us that "All Christian spirituality is thoroughly incarnational--in Jesus, to be sure, but also in us."  Growing up in faith means recognizing that most of us, most of the time, will experience the presence of God in and through other humans, in and through creation, in and through the discipline of serving others.

In a nutshell, the ending of the book made me mad.  God provided a wealth of love and security and healing in Faith's life...even provided the miracle of visible presence that most of us never experience.  Having experienced the grace of God through incarnational gifts from other humans, having read the history of God's work in the world in the biblical texts and in other people's stories, I recognize that God is at work even when I can't define God's work or perhaps even see it.  Ephesians challenges us to "grow up" and assume the presence and not the absence of God.  The lack of designer jeans does not equate to a lack of love from a parent.  The lack of being able to touch and talk to God in any form does not equate to the absence of God in our lives.

(I'm stepping off my soapbox...now...)