I preached this sermon on August 10th at St. Dunstan's here in Atlanta.
A story has been circulating for some time that I need to correct. I need to set the record straight with you all about this water-walking that Jesus and I did together. I don’t suppose it ever occurred to any of you why I did not just swim back to the boat that night??
Why I didn’t just call it a night, laugh off the fact that I had gotten all wet and crawl back into the boat?
Why I couldn’t extract myself from the waves??
I’m just going to say it to get this over with-
I was a fisherman who could not swim.
Years of fishing- ever since I was a child- I never learned! I never stepped out of the boat…I was afraid of the water! But no one knew until recently. My secret was safe. I had made a life out of staying out of the water and in the boat:
Whenever the nets needed to be pulled off of the barnacles on the bottom of the boat- I got one of the other guys to pull them off. One of my brothers or one of the other young boys that worked the boats with me. Whenever someone had to jump out of the boat into deep water to unhook a line off of some coral or brush someone else was always around to do the dirty work for me.
I never learned to swim! I lived under the assumption that I could fool everyone all the time- That I could fool even Jesus with my secret.
I am the Rock, after all, I would think with great pride- an impregnable fortress!! They would never know—
Not too long ago, though one day-
Jesus was tired and he needed a rest. He’d been keeping a busy schedule of healing and feeding and preaching. Jesus told us to go for a sail while he took some time for himself alone.
“I’m gonna walk up there,” he pointed up a hill, “and believe it or not, I am going to take a nap. Why don’t you all go out on the boat and relax yourselves..”
It was late in the day- getting a little cloudy too-
We all resisted---
He smiled and said “Looks like a great day for a sail to me!! And that’s an order!!”
So we sailed the boat out to the middle of the lake- Jesus walked up the hill to be alone. I was getting kind of drowsy myself… I settled in a corner of the boat and drifted off to sleep.
I woke up after I don’t know how long- I must have been really tired because it was dark outside- there was a huge moon shining on the lake that night.
Everything was foggy- In spite of the silvery light, I could barely see the others sitting on the boat. I heard thunder off in the distance and the wind started to raise a bit the waves started getting white capped and the lake swollen--
Then, we all heard a rhythmic splish-splashing off the side of the boat!! Splish-splash- splish splash-
“Who on earth is swimming out there right now??” we all asked one another. But it wasn’t quite the sounds of someone swimming.
Then, we all see something in the distance- hovering just above the water. Our breath stops- a ghost, a phantom- some kind of devil??
This demon looks like Jesus, this phantom- - —walking on water.
I see this ghost motioning towards us- saying, I think to me, “Come on out here!!” I figure I’m dreaming. Or if I am not, then surely a ghost won’t know who I am-
So, As usual, I opened my mouth…
“If you’re Jesus… then… who am I???”
“Peter…. “ I heard him in the distance.. “Come on out here.. I want to tell you something..”
“Peter!!!”
I looked around the boat…
Yes you! You see any other people named Peter on the boat!! Come on out here!!!
I am not sleeping, I realize- and I also realize that Jesus- or whoever this is, wants me out of the boat!!
“Peter- come on over I want to tell you something!!!”
So, I stepped out of the boat.
WALKED ON WATER—like it was the street running in front of my house- like it was the beach.. Water has kind of a squshy feeling under your feet.
Kind of a cross between mud and wet sand. It felt good under my feet!!!
But then I realized-
IM WALKING ON WATER AND I CANT SWIM!!
I looked down –
AND I SANK!
(Like the Rock I am).
I figured it was all over- maybe one of the others would brave the cold water and rescue me. But as I sank underneath the waves… All I could think was , “LORD HELP ME!!”
And, then I see an arm reach under the water. It grabs my hand, pulls me up and makes me stand up again on the water… I stood there- shaking- freezing from the cold water- from the wind blowing – the fog and the elements
Jesus laughed!
“You’re all wet, Peter!!! Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t swim! “
“But how did you know??”
“It wasn’t that hard- The way you looked every time we got near the boats or waded in the water…I think we all knew…”
We stood there together and he told me something I never forgot.
" Peter- I love you even though sometimes you are rather rock like- you’re hard- hard headed- hard-hearted. Even when you feel your most helpless know that I will always be there trying to get through – trying to get you out of the boat…”
We walked back to the boat-
“And yes,” he added, “you need to learn to swim. That's why I put all these other people here in the boat with you…”
But master , I told him,, “I can’t….”
He cut me off- “You of little faith, why do you doubt?’ Peter- The first thing I ask if you is to love me and the second?”
“Love everyone else..”
Right.
I realized then that when I trust my brothers and sisters with my weakness I am letting them in- loving them- letting them be a part of who I really am as one of God’s children. I am stepping out of the boat.
I am learning to have faith that is rock like.
What this Rock learned that night is that we are all here to help each other swim- survive- thrive.
Jesus said to me, “Keep your eyes on me—on the love that I have brought here for you to share- to live out—and you will never sink…”
I once thought that ours was a God who did not suffer fools lightly. A god that did not tolerate weakness of any sort…Not a God who loved our weaknesses as much as our strengths. Not a God who required us to trust one another in our weakness- have faith in one another and God that we could overcome with God’s help..
Faith is a word we use in our little group quite a bit-
Some people say it is believing without seeing- Believing in things beyond understanding- beyond comprehension.
Faith is something we do, though, when we step out of the boat. When Christ calls us out of the boat, even though our gut tells us we will sink-
Faith beckons us to own up to our weakness-to own up to the weaknesses of others-to love ourselves and one another. It calls us to use our strength to bring those among us who are under the waves up upon the water and to throw our power and our resources- (in spite of all of our reasonable objections)- behind his children- the LEAST of all these – to bring them up out of the depths in spite of our obvious shortcomings that put us there in the first place.
We not only learn to swim-
We- walk on water.
Amen
Monday, August 18, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Father Terry Starts a New World
I'm a regular (well, was a regular reader) of the Blog "Father Jake Stops the World." About a month ago or so, I was greeted with this startling post from "Father Jake, " (aka Father Terry Martin):
" After much thought, prayer, and consultation with others, I’ve decided that it is time to close down Jake’s place.
This is not an easy decision. In some ways, it feels like a part of me is dying.
There’s many reasons for making this decision:
.....I believe that a constant exposure to some of the toxic rhetoric found on the net has had a negative impact on my spiritual health. I find it more difficult to discern the glory of God. Most likely this is because I’ve become too preoccupied with the depravity of man. I need to take care of myself."
At first, I was kind of sad to see him go. I had lots of online friends from the comments posting section on the website. I was a daily reader of his blog- he had kept me up to speed with all the stuff going on in TEC.
Then, I was greeted with this a few weeks later - a new website called "Father Terry Listens to the World."
I would commend everyone to check it out. Father Terry has taken on a great notion that many of us in the Episcopal Church (and other so-called "liberal" denominations have taken) that it is high time that we begin to practice evangelism. It is high time to take back the concept- the duty - the work of evangelism - from the hellfire and damnation crowd to take the loving, inclusive and all-encompassing embrace of God's love through Christ to the world.
He had this to say:
"We begin evangelism by listening. And then we listen some more. It is only when we really hear the stories of others that we will know how to proclaim the good news in ways that can be heard."
Amen.
I'm glad he's back.
" After much thought, prayer, and consultation with others, I’ve decided that it is time to close down Jake’s place.
This is not an easy decision. In some ways, it feels like a part of me is dying.
There’s many reasons for making this decision:
.....I believe that a constant exposure to some of the toxic rhetoric found on the net has had a negative impact on my spiritual health. I find it more difficult to discern the glory of God. Most likely this is because I’ve become too preoccupied with the depravity of man. I need to take care of myself."
At first, I was kind of sad to see him go. I had lots of online friends from the comments posting section on the website. I was a daily reader of his blog- he had kept me up to speed with all the stuff going on in TEC.
Then, I was greeted with this a few weeks later - a new website called "Father Terry Listens to the World."
I would commend everyone to check it out. Father Terry has taken on a great notion that many of us in the Episcopal Church (and other so-called "liberal" denominations have taken) that it is high time that we begin to practice evangelism. It is high time to take back the concept- the duty - the work of evangelism - from the hellfire and damnation crowd to take the loving, inclusive and all-encompassing embrace of God's love through Christ to the world.
He had this to say:
"We begin evangelism by listening. And then we listen some more. It is only when we really hear the stories of others that we will know how to proclaim the good news in ways that can be heard."
Amen.
I'm glad he's back.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Already There
I preached this sermon last Sunday (May 4th) on Acts 1.
I am seeing more and more families with small children here, and one of the distinct pleasures you will have as they grow older will be taking road trips together
We have taken lots of them over the years- traveling to Myrtle Beach to see friends and Family .. to DC.. to Orlando..to the Floriday panhandle… My children, like most children on roadtrips get impatient. They want the trip to be finished.
Inevitably, they ask me many times, “Are we there yet?”
I have a few stock responses:
“No, we’re here…”
“Look out the window at the cows….”
“Hunt for license plates from other states..”
And MY personal favorite, “Well, you look around and tell me where we are.”
And I often use the old standard, “Not yet..”
Or, better yet, “We’ll get there when we get there..”
But grown ups are also obsessed with “getting there.”
Take a look next time you are out on the highway at the other cars. You’ll see GPS receivers in at least every 4th car.
GPS receivers that tell people where they are with nearly pinpoint accuracy. They tell them when exactly they will arrive at their destination. It’s an electronic answer to the question, “Are we there yet?”
It seems that each moment of our road-trip, we want a little guide to tell us exactly where we stand on the road, where we are in relation to the end and how to stay on the path.
It’s very comforting.
It satisfies our impatience with not knowing where, exactly, we are headed.
Our Apostles today ask Jesus, “Lord is this the time when your Kingdom will come?” They might as well have asked Jesus, “Are we there yet?”
They want answers! They want surety, security-on the road – on their journey following Christ. They’re unsure about their exact place on the path, unsure about their place in the universe, unsure about when they will arrive in God’s kingdom or when it will come to them and how, exactly, it will happen.
They’re uneasy, uncomfortable and scared because they are not going to have Jesus- their guide, their friend, their savior- in a bodily form.
They want to be finished with their journey- to have God’s kingdom now. They want a map: a spelled out, detailed plan that takes away their uncertainty and delivers them to their final destination.
Jesus gives them a good “front seat” answer to their “Are we there yet?”- reassuring and still vague! :
“….you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
You will he assures them. Not you may or you can or you have to option. You will! You will get there and you WILL be OK.
.
But, in spite of hearing all of this from the Son of God (and I find this kind of amusing) they continue to gaze heavenward, wondering wistfully just when, exactly, all of this will happen.
They don’t realize that the answer is already among them in the present.
Sounds kind of like all of us, doesn’t it?
We often find ourselves gazing heavenward, wondering when God will come. Then, the Holy Spirit comes and suddenly we find ourselves making unexpected pit stops on the road
We find ourselves doing things that we might not normally do!
The Holy Spirit moves us beyond the borders of our mapped territory The Holy Spirit moves our eyes to the road as it unfolds before us.
This life of the Spirit is kind of scary and unpredictable, isn’t it?
There is a certain lack of control we must live into - discomfort we must live with- to find our place on the journey. Our discomfort makes us wonder , “When, Lord, will you do what we want you to do?”
We want answers- we want certainty- we want to know just where , exactly, this road of the Spirit lead us to??
When the apostles ask a form of the question, “Are we there yet?”-
“Is this the time your kingdom will come, Jesus?”
Jesus says to them ““You’ll get there when you get there” by admonishing them with, “It is not for you to know the times or periods the Father has set by his own authority…”
Then, After watching Jesus ascend into the clouds, their gazes are still locked upward, wondering (wistfully) when exactly he will return. Then two “men clothed in white” (I like to think of them as angels), give them a nice scolding, I think, as they look upward for Jesus, instead of all around themselves and ahead..
They say, “Why do you stand looking up to heaven?”
God’s kingdom- is not up there- they tell them- God’s kingdom will come only through the love that Christ has set in motion with his life and his death. God’s kingdom will come but only with the help of the Holy Spirit- with “God’s help” (as we like to say in our prayer book) and the love of Christ.
Love Christ set in motion through faithfulness that lead to his death on a cross. See, they don’t realize that Christ has already
given them the map they need to get there.
I like the movie Bruce Almighty. God, Morgan Freeman, says to Jim, a man who is “playing God” in the movie, “People want me to do everything for them. What they don't realize is that they have the power. You want to see a miracle? Be the miracle.”
God urges Bruce to look ahead by directing his gaze downward, seeking God’s kingdom through being the miracle.
Next week, at Pentecost , the “miracle” will happen to us, the Church. The Holy Spirit will come. The church will be born
But, we hear that right now, right now- we are to be the miracle!
We are supposed to be God’s kingdom…
What does this kingdom look like,? What is it God has set us free to do- right now- with God’s Holy Spirit? What exactly do we do while we are “on the road?” How do we “be the miracle?” Is it through sacramental purity?? Biblical accuracy?? Orthodoxy??
I think maybe not…
A way I feel we can do it is we practice what my friend Father Terry Martin calls “radical inclusion.”Radical inclusion chooses grace and love as the default position when all else is in doubt.
Radical inclusion causes us to open our arms to all people and say “You- each and every one of you- are a child of God.”
I liked what Bishop Gene Robinson had to say when he was interviewed recently by Terri Gross on Fresh Air upon the release of his memoir, “Eye of the Storm..”
This specific question was regarding his lack of invitation to the Lambeth conference- he was not invited, like all the other bishops of the world, specifically because of who he is as a Gay man. I expected anger and bitterness.
Instead he gave us all a lesson on the Holy Spirit.
He said, “ Jesus says this amazing thing on the night before he died. He says to his disciples, ‘there are many more things I want share with you but you are not able to bear them right now.
so I will send you the Holy Spirit to lead you to all truth. ‘ “
He further commented, “I will go on to argue that full inclusion of Gay and Lesbian people is just simply another way that the Holy Spirit is leading us to a fuller understanding of God’s love for all of God’s children.”
I can imagine he has wondered, as a Gay man, “are we there yet?” as he walks on his journey
On days when he had to bear death threats- days when he had to wear a bullet proof vest to mass- the day he did not get his invitation to Lambeth.
But, his experience has not left him gazing heavenward,
asking God, “When???” It has lead him to a fuller understanding of the Holy Spirit.
We can learn this week that The Church- all of us who are God’s children-all of us who feel bewildered and lost -wondering why we are on this journey and where will it lead us-
We can learn we are called to find our place by directing our gaze down from the heavens to here on earth, where we are.
Here , where we can find a fuller understanding of God’s love and be lead to God’s Love through the Holy Spirit. Not from any “road maps” we feel compelled to follow and certainly not from craning our necks looking upward for Jesus in the clouds.
The kingdom of God comes – we get there- when we affirm to one another and treat one another as if we are all precious, Holy children of God.
Then we are already “there.”
I am seeing more and more families with small children here, and one of the distinct pleasures you will have as they grow older will be taking road trips together
We have taken lots of them over the years- traveling to Myrtle Beach to see friends and Family .. to DC.. to Orlando..to the Floriday panhandle… My children, like most children on roadtrips get impatient. They want the trip to be finished.
Inevitably, they ask me many times, “Are we there yet?”
I have a few stock responses:
“No, we’re here…”
“Look out the window at the cows….”
“Hunt for license plates from other states..”
And MY personal favorite, “Well, you look around and tell me where we are.”
And I often use the old standard, “Not yet..”
Or, better yet, “We’ll get there when we get there..”
But grown ups are also obsessed with “getting there.”
Take a look next time you are out on the highway at the other cars. You’ll see GPS receivers in at least every 4th car.
GPS receivers that tell people where they are with nearly pinpoint accuracy. They tell them when exactly they will arrive at their destination. It’s an electronic answer to the question, “Are we there yet?”
It seems that each moment of our road-trip, we want a little guide to tell us exactly where we stand on the road, where we are in relation to the end and how to stay on the path.
It’s very comforting.
It satisfies our impatience with not knowing where, exactly, we are headed.
Our Apostles today ask Jesus, “Lord is this the time when your Kingdom will come?” They might as well have asked Jesus, “Are we there yet?”
They want answers! They want surety, security-on the road – on their journey following Christ. They’re unsure about their exact place on the path, unsure about their place in the universe, unsure about when they will arrive in God’s kingdom or when it will come to them and how, exactly, it will happen.
They’re uneasy, uncomfortable and scared because they are not going to have Jesus- their guide, their friend, their savior- in a bodily form.
They want to be finished with their journey- to have God’s kingdom now. They want a map: a spelled out, detailed plan that takes away their uncertainty and delivers them to their final destination.
Jesus gives them a good “front seat” answer to their “Are we there yet?”- reassuring and still vague! :
“….you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
You will he assures them. Not you may or you can or you have to option. You will! You will get there and you WILL be OK.
.
But, in spite of hearing all of this from the Son of God (and I find this kind of amusing) they continue to gaze heavenward, wondering wistfully just when, exactly, all of this will happen.
They don’t realize that the answer is already among them in the present.
Sounds kind of like all of us, doesn’t it?
We often find ourselves gazing heavenward, wondering when God will come. Then, the Holy Spirit comes and suddenly we find ourselves making unexpected pit stops on the road
We find ourselves doing things that we might not normally do!
The Holy Spirit moves us beyond the borders of our mapped territory The Holy Spirit moves our eyes to the road as it unfolds before us.
This life of the Spirit is kind of scary and unpredictable, isn’t it?
There is a certain lack of control we must live into - discomfort we must live with- to find our place on the journey. Our discomfort makes us wonder , “When, Lord, will you do what we want you to do?”
We want answers- we want certainty- we want to know just where , exactly, this road of the Spirit lead us to??
When the apostles ask a form of the question, “Are we there yet?”-
“Is this the time your kingdom will come, Jesus?”
Jesus says to them ““You’ll get there when you get there” by admonishing them with, “It is not for you to know the times or periods the Father has set by his own authority…”
Then, After watching Jesus ascend into the clouds, their gazes are still locked upward, wondering (wistfully) when exactly he will return. Then two “men clothed in white” (I like to think of them as angels), give them a nice scolding, I think, as they look upward for Jesus, instead of all around themselves and ahead..
They say, “Why do you stand looking up to heaven?”
God’s kingdom- is not up there- they tell them- God’s kingdom will come only through the love that Christ has set in motion with his life and his death. God’s kingdom will come but only with the help of the Holy Spirit- with “God’s help” (as we like to say in our prayer book) and the love of Christ.
Love Christ set in motion through faithfulness that lead to his death on a cross. See, they don’t realize that Christ has already
given them the map they need to get there.
I like the movie Bruce Almighty. God, Morgan Freeman, says to Jim, a man who is “playing God” in the movie, “People want me to do everything for them. What they don't realize is that they have the power. You want to see a miracle? Be the miracle.”
God urges Bruce to look ahead by directing his gaze downward, seeking God’s kingdom through being the miracle.
Next week, at Pentecost , the “miracle” will happen to us, the Church. The Holy Spirit will come. The church will be born
But, we hear that right now, right now- we are to be the miracle!
We are supposed to be God’s kingdom…
What does this kingdom look like,? What is it God has set us free to do- right now- with God’s Holy Spirit? What exactly do we do while we are “on the road?” How do we “be the miracle?” Is it through sacramental purity?? Biblical accuracy?? Orthodoxy??
I think maybe not…
A way I feel we can do it is we practice what my friend Father Terry Martin calls “radical inclusion.”Radical inclusion chooses grace and love as the default position when all else is in doubt.
Radical inclusion causes us to open our arms to all people and say “You- each and every one of you- are a child of God.”
I liked what Bishop Gene Robinson had to say when he was interviewed recently by Terri Gross on Fresh Air upon the release of his memoir, “Eye of the Storm..”
This specific question was regarding his lack of invitation to the Lambeth conference- he was not invited, like all the other bishops of the world, specifically because of who he is as a Gay man. I expected anger and bitterness.
Instead he gave us all a lesson on the Holy Spirit.
He said, “ Jesus says this amazing thing on the night before he died. He says to his disciples, ‘there are many more things I want share with you but you are not able to bear them right now.
so I will send you the Holy Spirit to lead you to all truth. ‘ “
He further commented, “I will go on to argue that full inclusion of Gay and Lesbian people is just simply another way that the Holy Spirit is leading us to a fuller understanding of God’s love for all of God’s children.”
I can imagine he has wondered, as a Gay man, “are we there yet?” as he walks on his journey
On days when he had to bear death threats- days when he had to wear a bullet proof vest to mass- the day he did not get his invitation to Lambeth.
But, his experience has not left him gazing heavenward,
asking God, “When???” It has lead him to a fuller understanding of the Holy Spirit.
We can learn this week that The Church- all of us who are God’s children-all of us who feel bewildered and lost -wondering why we are on this journey and where will it lead us-
We can learn we are called to find our place by directing our gaze down from the heavens to here on earth, where we are.
Here , where we can find a fuller understanding of God’s love and be lead to God’s Love through the Holy Spirit. Not from any “road maps” we feel compelled to follow and certainly not from craning our necks looking upward for Jesus in the clouds.
The kingdom of God comes – we get there- when we affirm to one another and treat one another as if we are all precious, Holy children of God.
Then we are already “there.”
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Response from Ms. Pratt
I thought it was classy of her to write me back and her response was very thoughtful. I think the lesson I have learned is to always, always, always try to understand before making my (usually highly flawed )OPINION known??
Actually, I don’t lean either way in reporting, but the people I interview certainly do, on both sides. Each only wants to see his/her own viewpoint represented! So much for freedom of speech. It’s a human characteristic and is true across denominations that we only want our own viewpoint mentioned. Anything else is perceived as bias or “negative.” Newspapers by design can only hit a few high points on any story, television even less with sound bytes. Now we have the Internet and blogs so that every viewpoint can be expressed to exhaustion! We are in an interesting time of transition in communications.
Back to the story, we don’t have that many Episcopalians in Lubbock, so until it heats up locally, we don’t do a lot of reporting on the issue, although we do run AP stories on the national developments.
Looks like if this new church start goes through here, the issue will become more local. Even so, the numbers are small compared to other churches here.
The bigger story is the future of the institutional church of whatever denomination. Will it recover or retool? Will people tire of doing their own thing? The latest trend predictions I’ve heard say that the churches with ultra-liturgical or ultra-contemporary worship styles will thrive and the various combinations between will struggle.
I don't think I would like being a Religion reporter... Not an easy job today seeing how polarized religion has gotten. "May we all be one..."
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Online can be Rude
OK I caught myself commiting the one sin of online writing- emailing that I would never do. I was really rude to a reporter in an email response I sent her regarding her article in lubbockonline about The Episcopal Church. Yikes. I was on the second day of a fast and was grumpy and it seemed like the thing to do at the time. I think one of the pitfalls of the Internet is that it gives us all one or two degrees of separation from one another and allows a little more rudeness that we would normally show towards one another.
OK. Judge for yourself- here is a link to the article by Beth Pratt ( a reporter from Lubbock and a lovely person, I am sure). Here is my email response to the article:
"Never mind that the system that they propose we live and believe under denies the dignity of all persons (re: homosexuals). You would have only gotten that bit of truth if you had talked to someone from The Episcopal Church. But, it seems that you are under the sway of either your distaste for gays, the PR machine of the Religious Wrong or an arch-conservative editor. Seems like in Journalism school (or did you go??) they would have taught you to tell the truth (try to get both sides in the story). However, it seems you must have skipped class that day. How unfortunate for your readers that they did not get the chance to hear from all voices in this story and get the perspective of The Episcopal Church. "
OK I could have edited a couple of jabs- the one about journalism school in particular...
Here is Ms. Pratt's response:
"Or. Possibly you just missed the first story from the church’s viewpoint. Or, you could be a member of the head-in-the-sand group that would like to pretend nothing is happening. If they would just go away quietly, no one would be disturbed. Right?"
OK so here is the article from the Church's viewpoint:
http://www.lubbockonline.com/stories/031007/rel_031007041.shtml
Judge for yourself. Don't email reporters when you are on the second day of a fast if you want to seem like a nice person.
OK. Judge for yourself- here is a link to the article by Beth Pratt ( a reporter from Lubbock and a lovely person, I am sure). Here is my email response to the article:
"Never mind that the system that they propose we live and believe under denies the dignity of all persons (re: homosexuals). You would have only gotten that bit of truth if you had talked to someone from The Episcopal Church. But, it seems that you are under the sway of either your distaste for gays, the PR machine of the Religious Wrong or an arch-conservative editor. Seems like in Journalism school (or did you go??) they would have taught you to tell the truth (try to get both sides in the story). However, it seems you must have skipped class that day. How unfortunate for your readers that they did not get the chance to hear from all voices in this story and get the perspective of The Episcopal Church. "
OK I could have edited a couple of jabs- the one about journalism school in particular...
Here is Ms. Pratt's response:
"Or. Possibly you just missed the first story from the church’s viewpoint. Or, you could be a member of the head-in-the-sand group that would like to pretend nothing is happening. If they would just go away quietly, no one would be disturbed. Right?"
OK so here is the article from the Church's viewpoint:
http://www.lubbockonline.com/stories/031007/rel_031007041.shtml
Judge for yourself. Don't email reporters when you are on the second day of a fast if you want to seem like a nice person.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Epiphany 1 Sermon
The Stars Shift
There’s a line in one of my favorite John Lennon songs, “Beautiful Boy,” that says “life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.” We find ourselves busy with our daily lives, doing what comes normal for us every day and wham- something comes along and our plans change- life happens.
When I read the story in Matthew about the Magi, I see people who were busy making other plans and who had their lives turned upside down.
These magi- mysterious members of the cast of characters in our Epiphany gospel today-were probably people who made a comfortable living trying to divine the will of God or The Gods through what they saw in the stars. (If they lived today we would probably call them Astrologers- and would read a column by one of them in the daily paper).
Then, one day, the heavens moved- something new appeared in the eastern sky. A constellation moved a bit, or a new, bright star- perhaps a Supernova exploded- or a planet passed close by the earth much like Mars is doing now. Something miraculous happened, and they had to go and see what it was.
These people were observers- scientists, of sorts. The heavens were orderly for them, moved in pretty predictable patterns and made sense, most of the time. Then one day a new light appeared in the east and they started seeing strange things in the skies that were once so familiar to them.
Jesus birth, the gospel writer tells us, put their stars out of whack.
They were to pack up their stuff, load their animals and trek to a little town nine miles east of the seat of power in Jerusalem to Bethlehem (what we are to believe is hundreds of miles) to find the origins of this astrological change.
Imagine with me for a second the scene that Matthew tries to paint for us in this story. I see their departure from the camel yards, heavy laden with their telescopes and water jugs and formal turbans, talking excitedly about what they’re going to find underneath this new star. One jokes with the others that there might be some good parties for them when they get there, complete with dancing girls and music and a huge spread of food. They all figure that a person great enough to warrant a change in the skies will be full of pomp and circumstance and power. Little do they know what awaits them at the end-a humble child of working parents-a son of a carpenter and teenage girl.
This story has all the elements of a great adventure story. It is even complete with a maniacal, angry, frightened king who wants to find our hero, Jesus, and kill him because he feels threatened. Harod meets with our Magi and asks them to find this king “so I can come and worship him.” (We know better, though- and know that Harod wants to find the source of this astronomical change and snuff it out).
I also imagine their surprise when they see that the stars point to wherever this child, this poor child is living. I see them checking and re-checking their calculations. I hear one turning to the other and saying “This can’t be right” and the other telling him “I know I am right” and the third maybe saying “I told you we should have asked for directions back in Judea!!”
Upon arriving at the humble dwelling where Jesus and his family are living, they shrug their shoulders, hop off their camels pick up their gifts, and approach the humble dwelling from which they hear the cries and coos of the Christ Child and take their gifts to him in puzzlement.
We are pretty certain now that there were not three of these men. There probably were no camels. (And in deference to my friends at Mary and Martha’s place- )we don’t even know that they were men, either. The Gospel story tells us that there was no manger when they came by- they visited a house in Bethlehem. We do know that there were gifts for this “king,”this Christ child, living beneath the star. Much of the rest that we assume to be true about the Magi is legend- adornments to the story that have been added through the ages.
We do recognize them as a vital part of the Epiphany- the truth made plain – about Jesus Christ.
I like what Walter Bruegemann says about them- he says that “rather than hesitate or resist, they reorganize their wealth and learning, and reorient themselves and their lives around a baby with no credentials.”
How can we reorganize our lives around a “baby with no credentials?”
Epiphany calls us all to allow the presence of Christ in our lives to put our stars out of whack- to let Jesus shift our constellations- make us see things in a new light.
It is no accident, I think, that custom has us make resolutions during this time of the year - to make changes for the new year that will (hopefully) make our lives better. All of us, every year, try to re-align our own stars with promises to exercise more, eat better, sleep more, read more books, fight less with our big sisters or brothers.
I like how one writer I read this week put it. He said that instead of making “resolutions” for the new year we should “re-solution” our lives. I like that. When we “re-solution,” or come up with new ways to see the light in others and ourselves, we are following the Epiphany star. How will we “re-solution” our lives this year?? How can we drop what we are doing, let the Christ child happen to us while we go about our lives, making other plans?? I had a few:
-Instead of looking for new worlds to conquer, perhaps we can find new worlds to save.
-Instead of making our voice heard, perhaps we can learn to listen more.
-Instead of indulging all our appetites, perhaps we can find ways to want less.
-Instead of filling our lives with more stuff, maybe we can “re-solution” by clearing out space in our lives for more people.
-Instead of trying to lead through dominating others, maybe we can we can lead by serving all.
-Bringing this home to the Anglican Communion- now that a rift is a foregone conclusion, instead of being angry with the folks who have left us now, perhaps we can look at the folks who have left The Episcopal Church with compassion, realizing that in the end, whether we like it or not, we are still all the body of Christ and we need each other. They still need us.
Epiphany tells us that seeing the star is not the end of the journey.
In the end of our story the magi, being warned by God in a dream that Harod is out for the life of the Christ Child (and now perhaps them as well) , returned home by another road.
Once we meet the Christ child, the road we walk down is never the same. Christ calls us to continue seeking his star- continue being saved by him day in and day out through the power of one thing and one thing only- love.
Christ has come- the stars have changed for us now and we must walk a new road home with a new plan. Amen.
There’s a line in one of my favorite John Lennon songs, “Beautiful Boy,” that says “life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.” We find ourselves busy with our daily lives, doing what comes normal for us every day and wham- something comes along and our plans change- life happens.
When I read the story in Matthew about the Magi, I see people who were busy making other plans and who had their lives turned upside down.
These magi- mysterious members of the cast of characters in our Epiphany gospel today-were probably people who made a comfortable living trying to divine the will of God or The Gods through what they saw in the stars. (If they lived today we would probably call them Astrologers- and would read a column by one of them in the daily paper).
Then, one day, the heavens moved- something new appeared in the eastern sky. A constellation moved a bit, or a new, bright star- perhaps a Supernova exploded- or a planet passed close by the earth much like Mars is doing now. Something miraculous happened, and they had to go and see what it was.
These people were observers- scientists, of sorts. The heavens were orderly for them, moved in pretty predictable patterns and made sense, most of the time. Then one day a new light appeared in the east and they started seeing strange things in the skies that were once so familiar to them.
Jesus birth, the gospel writer tells us, put their stars out of whack.
They were to pack up their stuff, load their animals and trek to a little town nine miles east of the seat of power in Jerusalem to Bethlehem (what we are to believe is hundreds of miles) to find the origins of this astrological change.
Imagine with me for a second the scene that Matthew tries to paint for us in this story. I see their departure from the camel yards, heavy laden with their telescopes and water jugs and formal turbans, talking excitedly about what they’re going to find underneath this new star. One jokes with the others that there might be some good parties for them when they get there, complete with dancing girls and music and a huge spread of food. They all figure that a person great enough to warrant a change in the skies will be full of pomp and circumstance and power. Little do they know what awaits them at the end-a humble child of working parents-a son of a carpenter and teenage girl.
This story has all the elements of a great adventure story. It is even complete with a maniacal, angry, frightened king who wants to find our hero, Jesus, and kill him because he feels threatened. Harod meets with our Magi and asks them to find this king “so I can come and worship him.” (We know better, though- and know that Harod wants to find the source of this astronomical change and snuff it out).
I also imagine their surprise when they see that the stars point to wherever this child, this poor child is living. I see them checking and re-checking their calculations. I hear one turning to the other and saying “This can’t be right” and the other telling him “I know I am right” and the third maybe saying “I told you we should have asked for directions back in Judea!!”
Upon arriving at the humble dwelling where Jesus and his family are living, they shrug their shoulders, hop off their camels pick up their gifts, and approach the humble dwelling from which they hear the cries and coos of the Christ Child and take their gifts to him in puzzlement.
We are pretty certain now that there were not three of these men. There probably were no camels. (And in deference to my friends at Mary and Martha’s place- )we don’t even know that they were men, either. The Gospel story tells us that there was no manger when they came by- they visited a house in Bethlehem. We do know that there were gifts for this “king,”this Christ child, living beneath the star. Much of the rest that we assume to be true about the Magi is legend- adornments to the story that have been added through the ages.
We do recognize them as a vital part of the Epiphany- the truth made plain – about Jesus Christ.
I like what Walter Bruegemann says about them- he says that “rather than hesitate or resist, they reorganize their wealth and learning, and reorient themselves and their lives around a baby with no credentials.”
How can we reorganize our lives around a “baby with no credentials?”
Epiphany calls us all to allow the presence of Christ in our lives to put our stars out of whack- to let Jesus shift our constellations- make us see things in a new light.
It is no accident, I think, that custom has us make resolutions during this time of the year - to make changes for the new year that will (hopefully) make our lives better. All of us, every year, try to re-align our own stars with promises to exercise more, eat better, sleep more, read more books, fight less with our big sisters or brothers.
I like how one writer I read this week put it. He said that instead of making “resolutions” for the new year we should “re-solution” our lives. I like that. When we “re-solution,” or come up with new ways to see the light in others and ourselves, we are following the Epiphany star. How will we “re-solution” our lives this year?? How can we drop what we are doing, let the Christ child happen to us while we go about our lives, making other plans?? I had a few:
-Instead of looking for new worlds to conquer, perhaps we can find new worlds to save.
-Instead of making our voice heard, perhaps we can learn to listen more.
-Instead of indulging all our appetites, perhaps we can find ways to want less.
-Instead of filling our lives with more stuff, maybe we can “re-solution” by clearing out space in our lives for more people.
-Instead of trying to lead through dominating others, maybe we can we can lead by serving all.
-Bringing this home to the Anglican Communion- now that a rift is a foregone conclusion, instead of being angry with the folks who have left us now, perhaps we can look at the folks who have left The Episcopal Church with compassion, realizing that in the end, whether we like it or not, we are still all the body of Christ and we need each other. They still need us.
Epiphany tells us that seeing the star is not the end of the journey.
In the end of our story the magi, being warned by God in a dream that Harod is out for the life of the Christ Child (and now perhaps them as well) , returned home by another road.
Once we meet the Christ child, the road we walk down is never the same. Christ calls us to continue seeking his star- continue being saved by him day in and day out through the power of one thing and one thing only- love.
Christ has come- the stars have changed for us now and we must walk a new road home with a new plan. Amen.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Politics... Argh...Thomas Merton
I love The Peanuts cartoons- in particular, I love the exclamation of disgust/frustration/anger that Lucy (I think) used to do: it went something like this "ARRGGGHH!"
The one thing I loved about the Episcopal Church was that it was (seemingly) evolved beyond all the BS that I grew up with in The Southern Baptist Convention. Events of the last 4-5 years have proven otherwise. Lucky for me, I live in a liberal Diocese with a great Bishop (IMHO) and the politics have been agreeable to me thus far (at least on the local level).
Recent events in California are another matter. For the play by play, I defer to my friend "Father Jake." I find what happened at St. Nicholas in California most disconcerting. However, read the accounts of what transpired yesterday and you will see a classic example of how I feel the Holy Spirit can work in the worst of situations. I project myself into a "difficult" church situation like that someday and wonder what it would be like. Fr. Fred indeed experienced a "thin time" yesterday- I hope that he knows we are with him in prayer and spirit.
I also defer to Thomas Merton. I like this prayer for times like this:
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Shalom
timmah
The one thing I loved about the Episcopal Church was that it was (seemingly) evolved beyond all the BS that I grew up with in The Southern Baptist Convention. Events of the last 4-5 years have proven otherwise. Lucky for me, I live in a liberal Diocese with a great Bishop (IMHO) and the politics have been agreeable to me thus far (at least on the local level).
Recent events in California are another matter. For the play by play, I defer to my friend "Father Jake." I find what happened at St. Nicholas in California most disconcerting. However, read the accounts of what transpired yesterday and you will see a classic example of how I feel the Holy Spirit can work in the worst of situations. I project myself into a "difficult" church situation like that someday and wonder what it would be like. Fr. Fred indeed experienced a "thin time" yesterday- I hope that he knows we are with him in prayer and spirit.
I also defer to Thomas Merton. I like this prayer for times like this:
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Shalom
timmah
Sunday, December 23, 2007
The Best Christmas Pageant Ever
I was talking to Liz, my therapist, last week about Christmas. I had decided that I did not like it much and that maybe that was the originating point for the funk that I was in. Funny, when I admitted to not liking it much, I actually started to feel much better. (Admitting the problem is half the battle, they say??)
But over the last few days I have been falling in love again with this season, much to my surprise. The Holy Spirit must have intervened in my house because we are finished shopping and 90% of all of our wrapping is finished. Today I had one of those things happen where I happened to take a nice gift for Tricia, the Priest I am working with at St. Dunstan's, and she had an excellent gift for me. She bought me my first Book of Common Prayer- Hymnal Combo like the ones that Priests use that have all the ribbons and the leather binding. I was struck down by her generosity (those things ain't cheap) and by the fact that it was SO appropriate to get my first "real" prayer book from her. (Luckily, I had purchased for her a creamer/ sugar bowl set from my good friend Polly the Potter! Generosity reigns supreme!)
To top it all off, I had the privelege of being a shepherd in the annual Christmas Pageant at St. Dunstan's. I think the moment that finally sucked me in to the Christmas spirit was when all the 2 and 3 year olds came up as the Heavenly Host with their little foil wings and halos and white robes. No more bah, humbug for me, I am afraid.
God works in mysterious ways- sometimes through tiny children, apparently.
But over the last few days I have been falling in love again with this season, much to my surprise. The Holy Spirit must have intervened in my house because we are finished shopping and 90% of all of our wrapping is finished. Today I had one of those things happen where I happened to take a nice gift for Tricia, the Priest I am working with at St. Dunstan's, and she had an excellent gift for me. She bought me my first Book of Common Prayer- Hymnal Combo like the ones that Priests use that have all the ribbons and the leather binding. I was struck down by her generosity (those things ain't cheap) and by the fact that it was SO appropriate to get my first "real" prayer book from her. (Luckily, I had purchased for her a creamer/ sugar bowl set from my good friend Polly the Potter! Generosity reigns supreme!)
To top it all off, I had the privelege of being a shepherd in the annual Christmas Pageant at St. Dunstan's. I think the moment that finally sucked me in to the Christmas spirit was when all the 2 and 3 year olds came up as the Heavenly Host with their little foil wings and halos and white robes. No more bah, humbug for me, I am afraid.
God works in mysterious ways- sometimes through tiny children, apparently.
Crisis Mode- Advent One Sermon
Note- This was the sermon I preached for the Advent One RCL scriptures for the Wednesday Night Eucharist at Candler Seminary. 3 weeks later, here it is:
Dead asleep…..2 AM. Something- a cockroach, dog, child getting water, inadvertently activates the motion detector on your burglar alarm system... You bolt upright, grabbing your robe.. your slippers.. the baseball bat or 9-iron underneath your bed. In a show of true valor you call the dog over and tell him to "go downstairs boy- see who's here..."
You inch down the steps looking for a burglar, heart racing uncontrollably, hands shaking. You check all the windows and doors. You wait for the alarm company to call so you can give them the code word and call off the police and then go back up to bed and try to calm down enough to go to sleep...the thief in the night was a phantom of electronics…
A “thief in the night” breaking in is a looming reality in my neighborhood. Recently, neighbors up the hill on Dekalb Avenue had their door broken down by robbers who then started shooting- one of them jumped from his balcony, suffering horrible injuries to his face and teeth. Thank God, no one was killed- but my neighbors are scarred for life.
I can't imagine anything scarier than someone invading the safe, secure place we make for our children and ourselves.. home. This horrible possibility puts us all into crisis mode- fight or flight, some call it. The worst part of even the possibility of a home invasion is that matter how much work you do- no matter if you stay up all night (as Jesus describes in the Gospel) you cannot know whether or not your preparation will keep you safe. You are truly out of control, in the end.
A lot of work has been done in the science of the brain on how we react to crisis. Dr. Paul Mclean, a Neuropsychiatrist, discovered years about that each of us has a "mammal brain" and a "lizard brain." Our "lizard brain" or reptilian brain is the part of our brain that is in charge of keeping us alive- in charge of things that are not the best of humanity: rage, territoriality, fear of strangers and our fight or flight response- keeping us alert to all danger. The lizard brain causes our heart rate to skyrocket, our blood pressure to go up, the surface temperature of our skin falls , our pupils dilate- it makes us ready to fight and defend ourselves.
When I hear someone telling me things like Jesus does in this Matthew 24, I find myself thinking with my "lizard brain." A thief in the night is unacceptable, frightening, and induces us to our worst, violent behavior in an effort to defend family and territory.
The Gospel writer has Jesus give us more terrifying one-liners in Matthew 24- the stuff of horror movies: "they will hand you over to be tortured and you will be put to death" in 24:9. He speaks of "desolating sacrilege" in 24:15 and he tells the disciples that "the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from heaven." The Gospel writer also has Jesus saying that he will "send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other."
Our Advent lessons begin for us with a horror show, of sorts, scary stuff that could be taken to mean watch out... God is coming.. he is angry and you'd better take care, it seems to be telling us.
I'm a big fan of the Horror genre. Jesus does make us pay attention to when the Gospel has him sounding scary in Matthew 24. Why the apocalypse during a period when we are supposed to be happy- reinforcing for us a nasty underbelly of our month filled with family, friends, parties and all-round debauchery that is supposed to be “the most wonderful time of the year?”
Why all the things going bump in the night when we want sleigh bells and Christmas carolers? Why all the Stephen King when we want Santa and Frosty the Snowman and Baby Jesus in a nice, soft, manger? How are we to understand these passages that throw us into a crisis mentality instead of a peaceful state of joy and peace?
Two Psychiatrists published a study in which they studied the effects of fear and crisis on the Amygdala- an area of our brain that is important in processing memory and emotion. What they discovered was that things that produced outright terror used a small part of the Amygdala (the lizard brain I mentioned earlier). This was not surprising. The interesting thing, though is that hey also discovered that ambiguity- not knowing exactly what is going on or what will happen- makes the brain more alert than things that produce outright fear. They said in their study that "vigilance is the body's reaction to something new that promotes the various system's need to be alert to potentially important information." Vigilance is when we are truly awake. We use our whole brain- and perhaps our whole being and attention.
And see, Jesus ends the string of terrifying images with some great advice that helps us, during this often dark time of the lectionary year. He urges us to be alert - to be vigilant and awake and (most of all) to not be afraid. “
"Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" “…for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour."
Keep awake. Be ready. Be vigilant.
He urges us to use our whole brain, our whole being, and get ready for Christmas during Advent. The Gospel has him telling us that we can release ourselves from the things that paralyze us- fear, darkness, anxiety, busyness- that are so much a part of what the culture calls “The Christmas Season- not through terror- through self desctructive emotional and mental energy but through vigilance and readiness.
How do we develop vigilance? How do we get ready for Christmas? Do we spend our time trying to stay off the naughty list ? And anyway, could any of us ever NOT be one it? (Well, my Mom is here, and she is definitely not on it, but the rest of us… I am not so sure…) Are we ever really ready for the kind of love God offers us through Jesus when Christmas does arrive? Are we ever good enough, clean enough, observant enough, or spiritual enough?
No- nothing we can do- no amount of vigilance we practice to conquer the fear and darkness of winter can get us prepared for God’s “wondrous love.”
God does not care a whit if we are ready or vigilant. In spite of all of our anxiety-hurry- busyness- over the holiday- Christmas comes anyway- whether we want it to or not- kind of like a thief in the night.
Jesus invades the territory of our lives and insists upon being taking part in who we are- ready or not. God insists upon coming into the earth- so much so that he finds the most humble, ordinary route possible in getting here- a young, impoverished, unmarried teenager, and shows up- ready or not.
Our God desperately wants to be a part of our lives and we are to prepare ourselves, during Advent, for this reality!
God’s going to come whether we like it or not - but not as a boogieman who steals us away during the night or on a white horse in the clouds or a behind the pulpit of a church , but as a tiny baby.
Some friends in my liturgy class gave me this poem by Madeline L’Engle. Listen how she reminds us that God did not wait for anything and showed up for us at Christmas:
First Coming- by Madeline L’Engle
God did not wait till the world was ready,
till . . . nations were at peace.
God came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
God did not wait for the perfect time.
God came when the need was deep and great.
God dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. God did not wait
till hearts were pure. In joy God came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
God came, and God’s Light would not go out.
God came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
God came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
May you remember during advent to raise your songs in joyful voice sharing a God who came with love to heal the tangles of this world in the word made flesh.
Amen.
Dead asleep…..2 AM. Something- a cockroach, dog, child getting water, inadvertently activates the motion detector on your burglar alarm system... You bolt upright, grabbing your robe.. your slippers.. the baseball bat or 9-iron underneath your bed. In a show of true valor you call the dog over and tell him to "go downstairs boy- see who's here..."
You inch down the steps looking for a burglar, heart racing uncontrollably, hands shaking. You check all the windows and doors. You wait for the alarm company to call so you can give them the code word and call off the police and then go back up to bed and try to calm down enough to go to sleep...the thief in the night was a phantom of electronics…
A “thief in the night” breaking in is a looming reality in my neighborhood. Recently, neighbors up the hill on Dekalb Avenue had their door broken down by robbers who then started shooting- one of them jumped from his balcony, suffering horrible injuries to his face and teeth. Thank God, no one was killed- but my neighbors are scarred for life.
I can't imagine anything scarier than someone invading the safe, secure place we make for our children and ourselves.. home. This horrible possibility puts us all into crisis mode- fight or flight, some call it. The worst part of even the possibility of a home invasion is that matter how much work you do- no matter if you stay up all night (as Jesus describes in the Gospel) you cannot know whether or not your preparation will keep you safe. You are truly out of control, in the end.
A lot of work has been done in the science of the brain on how we react to crisis. Dr. Paul Mclean, a Neuropsychiatrist, discovered years about that each of us has a "mammal brain" and a "lizard brain." Our "lizard brain" or reptilian brain is the part of our brain that is in charge of keeping us alive- in charge of things that are not the best of humanity: rage, territoriality, fear of strangers and our fight or flight response- keeping us alert to all danger. The lizard brain causes our heart rate to skyrocket, our blood pressure to go up, the surface temperature of our skin falls , our pupils dilate- it makes us ready to fight and defend ourselves.
When I hear someone telling me things like Jesus does in this Matthew 24, I find myself thinking with my "lizard brain." A thief in the night is unacceptable, frightening, and induces us to our worst, violent behavior in an effort to defend family and territory.
The Gospel writer has Jesus give us more terrifying one-liners in Matthew 24- the stuff of horror movies: "they will hand you over to be tortured and you will be put to death" in 24:9. He speaks of "desolating sacrilege" in 24:15 and he tells the disciples that "the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from heaven." The Gospel writer also has Jesus saying that he will "send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other."
Our Advent lessons begin for us with a horror show, of sorts, scary stuff that could be taken to mean watch out... God is coming.. he is angry and you'd better take care, it seems to be telling us.
I'm a big fan of the Horror genre. Jesus does make us pay attention to when the Gospel has him sounding scary in Matthew 24. Why the apocalypse during a period when we are supposed to be happy- reinforcing for us a nasty underbelly of our month filled with family, friends, parties and all-round debauchery that is supposed to be “the most wonderful time of the year?”
Why all the things going bump in the night when we want sleigh bells and Christmas carolers? Why all the Stephen King when we want Santa and Frosty the Snowman and Baby Jesus in a nice, soft, manger? How are we to understand these passages that throw us into a crisis mentality instead of a peaceful state of joy and peace?
Two Psychiatrists published a study in which they studied the effects of fear and crisis on the Amygdala- an area of our brain that is important in processing memory and emotion. What they discovered was that things that produced outright terror used a small part of the Amygdala (the lizard brain I mentioned earlier). This was not surprising. The interesting thing, though is that hey also discovered that ambiguity- not knowing exactly what is going on or what will happen- makes the brain more alert than things that produce outright fear. They said in their study that "vigilance is the body's reaction to something new that promotes the various system's need to be alert to potentially important information." Vigilance is when we are truly awake. We use our whole brain- and perhaps our whole being and attention.
And see, Jesus ends the string of terrifying images with some great advice that helps us, during this often dark time of the lectionary year. He urges us to be alert - to be vigilant and awake and (most of all) to not be afraid. “
"Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" “…for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour."
Keep awake. Be ready. Be vigilant.
He urges us to use our whole brain, our whole being, and get ready for Christmas during Advent. The Gospel has him telling us that we can release ourselves from the things that paralyze us- fear, darkness, anxiety, busyness- that are so much a part of what the culture calls “The Christmas Season- not through terror- through self desctructive emotional and mental energy but through vigilance and readiness.
How do we develop vigilance? How do we get ready for Christmas? Do we spend our time trying to stay off the naughty list ? And anyway, could any of us ever NOT be one it? (Well, my Mom is here, and she is definitely not on it, but the rest of us… I am not so sure…) Are we ever really ready for the kind of love God offers us through Jesus when Christmas does arrive? Are we ever good enough, clean enough, observant enough, or spiritual enough?
No- nothing we can do- no amount of vigilance we practice to conquer the fear and darkness of winter can get us prepared for God’s “wondrous love.”
God does not care a whit if we are ready or vigilant. In spite of all of our anxiety-hurry- busyness- over the holiday- Christmas comes anyway- whether we want it to or not- kind of like a thief in the night.
Jesus invades the territory of our lives and insists upon being taking part in who we are- ready or not. God insists upon coming into the earth- so much so that he finds the most humble, ordinary route possible in getting here- a young, impoverished, unmarried teenager, and shows up- ready or not.
Our God desperately wants to be a part of our lives and we are to prepare ourselves, during Advent, for this reality!
God’s going to come whether we like it or not - but not as a boogieman who steals us away during the night or on a white horse in the clouds or a behind the pulpit of a church , but as a tiny baby.
Some friends in my liturgy class gave me this poem by Madeline L’Engle. Listen how she reminds us that God did not wait for anything and showed up for us at Christmas:
First Coming- by Madeline L’Engle
God did not wait till the world was ready,
till . . . nations were at peace.
God came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
God did not wait for the perfect time.
God came when the need was deep and great.
God dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. God did not wait
till hearts were pure. In joy God came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
God came, and God’s Light would not go out.
God came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
God came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
May you remember during advent to raise your songs in joyful voice sharing a God who came with love to heal the tangles of this world in the word made flesh.
Amen.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Seven Words
OK so some of the stuff I write for seminary gets put to good use... I am back to blogging. Here is the text of my first sermon I ever wrote and preached at St. Dunstan's Episcopal here in Atlanta.
More in the coming days. I got a veritable treasure trove of stuff to put up here that I wrote this semester! Some of it not even that bad, either.
Seven Words--
“Let’s pray about it.” Four words we have heard a lot during these last few, seemingly apocalyptic, days of wildfires, drought and middle-east foreign policy insanity.
I recently read this item in a small North Georgia church’s newsletter; written by a person I know.
“The latest ‘Let’s pray about it’ activity has been centered around the drought we are suffering. As Marge and I catch shower water to keep our withering plants alive, I get weary thinking that not a day goes by that I don’t hear someone wanting to organize a prayer meeting to ask God for some rain. It seems to me that if that were the drill, then somebody’s prayer would have been a winner by now. Seems as if our chances of buying a winning lottery ticket are better than that.”
The writer continues:
“I find it difficult to accept a theology that tells me God is sitting up in heaven somewhere jerking strings to make us behave. What about the 300,000+ people in California who have lost their homes to a raging fire caused by, as the insurance companies would say, ‘an Act of God?’ What did they collectively do to incur God’s wrath? Not so, you say? Then why do we pray for safe travel, for rain, for money, for a new car, etc., etc.? If we don’t get a good answer, does that mean we need to clean up our act and ask again?
“I don’t have any answers, except to believe that I am slowly growing in my ability to find a quiet place, clear my mind of the present and allow myself the luxury of feeling the presence of God.”
When the rains dry up or when they fall in plenty we look for some kind of justification. “Was it something we did, through global warming or maybe in the way of the Old Testament, the sins of our Fathers and Mothers, that caused God to stop the rains?” We wonder. “Why are all of these bad things happening to us,” we ask. Or, on the other side, when good things happen, we try to take credit for them ourselves, or we count ourselves lucky that we are not one of them – one of the folks “less fortunate” than we.
When pray for and get rain, someone else does not get rain. We pray that the storms miss our home, yet they destroy someone else’s. We pray that we win the lottery, the contract, the college admission, yet we forget that someone else loses. Life, it seems, can be a zero sum game for many of us, and it can seem hopeless when we inhabit the losing side and overwhelmingly hopeful when we are winning.
How can we, as our writer tells us, “find a quiet place, clear our mind of the present and allow ourselves the luxury of feeling the presence of God.”
What levels us out as God’s children? Is it righteous acts- is it charity- is it what we think or who we are?
Jesus shows us today how prayer and honesty with God will bring us back to who we really are, and he even gives us a template of sorts with seven, simple words – “God, have mercy on me a sinner.” It’s a prayer many people have called “The Jesus Prayer.”
Prayer and meditation have been getting a lot of attention around my school this last two weeks, in part because we have another set of exams coming up this week and also because of a new professor at Emory named His Holiness Dalai Lama. During his time at Emory, Dalai Llama did a lecture that was open to the Tibetan Buddhist community, and in it he said over and over that we are all light and that the harmful things we do (sin) are all contrary to that true nature.
Maybe it is getting to our true nature – who we really are- that is at the heart of “allowing ourselves the luxury of feeling the presence of God.”
Three different times in the Gospel we get variations of this prayer- - A blind man sitting on the side of the road in Jericho intones – “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Ten lepers cry out, “Jesus, Master, take pity on us' and our publican prays from the back of the temple, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner."
Who are these people in our parable today- this Tax Collector and Pharisee?
I don’t think they are so different from us. One of them is at the very top of his game, the Pharisee. The other, perhaps, at the bottom of the pit, the tax collector. We sometimes feel as if they are different because they are from an ancient world but I think they live among us. I think at different times they are we.
We might say, to paraphrase the comic strip character, Pogo, “we have met the Pharisee, and he is us.
In fact, if Jesus had been born in Gainesville, as Clarence Jordan offers in his Cotton Patch Gospel, the parable we read today might have gone something like this:
“Two men went to church one Sunday morning. One was a deacon, and the other a mortgage banker. Times had been hard around the city, and he had recently foreclosed on the houses of four church members’ houses.
The deacon sat in the front row and the mortgage banker sat in the back of the huge sanctuary that morning. The Deacon prayed to himself, “Dear Lord, I am soooo thankful for my life, that I am a good man who pays his mortgage, that I have not lost my home. Thank you Lord. Thank you for my good job, my great house and my three beautiful children. Thank you for this church I come to three times a week. I pray for forgiveness for that man back there who took away my friends’ homes.”
Our mortgage banker, sitting in the back, doesn’t even feel as if he can pray, “This has been a hard week. I had to take four houses away from people. My children hate me, my wife won’t speak to me and I hate my job. Dear Lord, have mercy on me – I can’t seem to do anything right.”
We know these two men, don’t we, and at various times in our lives “they are us.”
Who were these men in Jesus day, though?
The community hated tax collectors in Jesus’ day. They would profit from other people’s misfortune and oppression by pre-paying the taxes owed by their neighbors to the Romans, and then collect back from people what was owed and skim off the top everything that was left over. They would “hold the paper” on the debt owed to the government or the bank.
Pharisees were self-important jerks, sometimes, but they sort of get a bad rap; from Luke, especially. Some scholars believed that they were Christianity’s main “competition” and that perhaps these folks are usually cast as villains.
In their day, though, they were the pillars of the community.
They did the daily office, gave their money to the poor, went to church every chance they got, served on all the committees and ran the place. If they sat among us today, we would look to them as examples.
The “publican “ or the “tax collector” or “mortgage banker” might be pretty repugnant to us as well, though, perhaps because of the choices they had made in life or because of a collection they had made from our bank account.
Don’t we encounter people that we might call “repugnant.” How many times do we see people and catch ourselves thanking God we are “not like them?”
I know I catch myself looking out the window of my house or car sometimes thinking “Thank you, Lord I am not him” or “Thank you God, my day is not as bad as hers.”
How many of us have driven down the highway in any given rush hour, have seen the broken down car in the heat of the day, or the wreck, and thought- “At least I am not him.”
Jesus shows us that even when we believe we are at the bottom of the heap or when we are at the top, we are blessed by God.
Jesus offers that simple prayer that can draw us closer to God and, most importantly, closer to one another; “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” This prayer comes from an outcast, the hated character in our parable. From a notorious sinner we don’t get excuses like “Well, God, next week I will collect the taxes honestly, so hear my prayer,” or, “Thanks, God, for the profit I made tax collecting the last month. I’ll give some away, so forgive me.” We get seven humble words. He realizes who he is (lost and separated from God), and he speaks the truth to God saying when he says “God be merciful to me a sinner.”
The Pharisee is all of us when we are at our best. When we have made the sale, survived the recession, made the “A” on the exam, or beaten the traffic home. From a notoriously righteous person we hear words that use earthly evidence of success as signs of God’s favor. We see someone comparing himself their self to others to justify their self before God by saying, “Thanks be to God I am not like other men.”
When we are at the bottom financially, emotionally, physically, or spiritually even, we can have what my friends in recovery call “a moment of clarity” and remember, as our tax collector does, that God still just might love us in spite of it all, and we can say, “God be merciful to me a sinner.”
When we are at the top sometimes we can forget that our success comes at the expense of others. That our successes, like our failures, can be opportunities to search the fabric of reality for evidence of God’s grace and not just a time of personal triumph or loss. Our accomplishment and piety does not make us loved any more or less than those less fortunate than we.
What would it be like if, when we walked out of the doors of our temple, we remembered always, first and foremost, that we are, as Tricia says in her blessing, born blessed?
What would it be like if we remembered, as we breathed in and out during the day, that God’s grace is enough to get us through the day?
Our friends who know Latin know that Sin, after all, means separation. Prayer is, Jesus offers us, the ultimate opportunity to remove that separation, no matter how desperate or difficult our present circumstances.
Our own Jesus prayers can take many forms. Sometimes they might sound like, “God help me, I am broke! Have mercy on me, a sinner.”
We are all equally loved by God, mortgage banker and deacon alike, rich man and poor.
Or, we might pray, “God thank you for this rain, this check that came in the mail, my health…”
We are all constantly loved, even in times of darkness, even though we separate ourselves from what Basil the Great called “The mad love of God.”
“God please help me because everything I do and say is wrong, it seems.”
We place ourselves at the bottom, away from God, wallowing in our erroneous comparisons with other people or our self-pity.
Or, our Jesus prayer might say, “God, please find me because I am lost.”
We place ourselves at the top, reveling in our latest victory or our good fortune, forgetting that we are there on the mountaintop by the grace of God.
“God help me to see you in the good times and the bad…” we might pray…
By our own doing, we divide ourselves into tribes, families, exclusive communities of faith, groupings that separate us from God and one another.
Maybe we pray this Jesus prayer, “God help us remember you are with us always no matter who we are or what we do or where we go.”
We are, in spite of what we come to believe about ourselves, as our Tibetan brother might have said last week, the light of God.
God be merciful to me, a sinner, Jesus teaches us to pray.
Seven simple words.
More in the coming days. I got a veritable treasure trove of stuff to put up here that I wrote this semester! Some of it not even that bad, either.
Seven Words--
“Let’s pray about it.” Four words we have heard a lot during these last few, seemingly apocalyptic, days of wildfires, drought and middle-east foreign policy insanity.
I recently read this item in a small North Georgia church’s newsletter; written by a person I know.
“The latest ‘Let’s pray about it’ activity has been centered around the drought we are suffering. As Marge and I catch shower water to keep our withering plants alive, I get weary thinking that not a day goes by that I don’t hear someone wanting to organize a prayer meeting to ask God for some rain. It seems to me that if that were the drill, then somebody’s prayer would have been a winner by now. Seems as if our chances of buying a winning lottery ticket are better than that.”
The writer continues:
“I find it difficult to accept a theology that tells me God is sitting up in heaven somewhere jerking strings to make us behave. What about the 300,000+ people in California who have lost their homes to a raging fire caused by, as the insurance companies would say, ‘an Act of God?’ What did they collectively do to incur God’s wrath? Not so, you say? Then why do we pray for safe travel, for rain, for money, for a new car, etc., etc.? If we don’t get a good answer, does that mean we need to clean up our act and ask again?
“I don’t have any answers, except to believe that I am slowly growing in my ability to find a quiet place, clear my mind of the present and allow myself the luxury of feeling the presence of God.”
When the rains dry up or when they fall in plenty we look for some kind of justification. “Was it something we did, through global warming or maybe in the way of the Old Testament, the sins of our Fathers and Mothers, that caused God to stop the rains?” We wonder. “Why are all of these bad things happening to us,” we ask. Or, on the other side, when good things happen, we try to take credit for them ourselves, or we count ourselves lucky that we are not one of them – one of the folks “less fortunate” than we.
When pray for and get rain, someone else does not get rain. We pray that the storms miss our home, yet they destroy someone else’s. We pray that we win the lottery, the contract, the college admission, yet we forget that someone else loses. Life, it seems, can be a zero sum game for many of us, and it can seem hopeless when we inhabit the losing side and overwhelmingly hopeful when we are winning.
How can we, as our writer tells us, “find a quiet place, clear our mind of the present and allow ourselves the luxury of feeling the presence of God.”
What levels us out as God’s children? Is it righteous acts- is it charity- is it what we think or who we are?
Jesus shows us today how prayer and honesty with God will bring us back to who we really are, and he even gives us a template of sorts with seven, simple words – “God, have mercy on me a sinner.” It’s a prayer many people have called “The Jesus Prayer.”
Prayer and meditation have been getting a lot of attention around my school this last two weeks, in part because we have another set of exams coming up this week and also because of a new professor at Emory named His Holiness Dalai Lama. During his time at Emory, Dalai Llama did a lecture that was open to the Tibetan Buddhist community, and in it he said over and over that we are all light and that the harmful things we do (sin) are all contrary to that true nature.
Maybe it is getting to our true nature – who we really are- that is at the heart of “allowing ourselves the luxury of feeling the presence of God.”
Three different times in the Gospel we get variations of this prayer- - A blind man sitting on the side of the road in Jericho intones – “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Ten lepers cry out, “Jesus, Master, take pity on us' and our publican prays from the back of the temple, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner."
Who are these people in our parable today- this Tax Collector and Pharisee?
I don’t think they are so different from us. One of them is at the very top of his game, the Pharisee. The other, perhaps, at the bottom of the pit, the tax collector. We sometimes feel as if they are different because they are from an ancient world but I think they live among us. I think at different times they are we.
We might say, to paraphrase the comic strip character, Pogo, “we have met the Pharisee, and he is us.
In fact, if Jesus had been born in Gainesville, as Clarence Jordan offers in his Cotton Patch Gospel, the parable we read today might have gone something like this:
“Two men went to church one Sunday morning. One was a deacon, and the other a mortgage banker. Times had been hard around the city, and he had recently foreclosed on the houses of four church members’ houses.
The deacon sat in the front row and the mortgage banker sat in the back of the huge sanctuary that morning. The Deacon prayed to himself, “Dear Lord, I am soooo thankful for my life, that I am a good man who pays his mortgage, that I have not lost my home. Thank you Lord. Thank you for my good job, my great house and my three beautiful children. Thank you for this church I come to three times a week. I pray for forgiveness for that man back there who took away my friends’ homes.”
Our mortgage banker, sitting in the back, doesn’t even feel as if he can pray, “This has been a hard week. I had to take four houses away from people. My children hate me, my wife won’t speak to me and I hate my job. Dear Lord, have mercy on me – I can’t seem to do anything right.”
We know these two men, don’t we, and at various times in our lives “they are us.”
Who were these men in Jesus day, though?
The community hated tax collectors in Jesus’ day. They would profit from other people’s misfortune and oppression by pre-paying the taxes owed by their neighbors to the Romans, and then collect back from people what was owed and skim off the top everything that was left over. They would “hold the paper” on the debt owed to the government or the bank.
Pharisees were self-important jerks, sometimes, but they sort of get a bad rap; from Luke, especially. Some scholars believed that they were Christianity’s main “competition” and that perhaps these folks are usually cast as villains.
In their day, though, they were the pillars of the community.
They did the daily office, gave their money to the poor, went to church every chance they got, served on all the committees and ran the place. If they sat among us today, we would look to them as examples.
The “publican “ or the “tax collector” or “mortgage banker” might be pretty repugnant to us as well, though, perhaps because of the choices they had made in life or because of a collection they had made from our bank account.
Don’t we encounter people that we might call “repugnant.” How many times do we see people and catch ourselves thanking God we are “not like them?”
I know I catch myself looking out the window of my house or car sometimes thinking “Thank you, Lord I am not him” or “Thank you God, my day is not as bad as hers.”
How many of us have driven down the highway in any given rush hour, have seen the broken down car in the heat of the day, or the wreck, and thought- “At least I am not him.”
Jesus shows us that even when we believe we are at the bottom of the heap or when we are at the top, we are blessed by God.
Jesus offers that simple prayer that can draw us closer to God and, most importantly, closer to one another; “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” This prayer comes from an outcast, the hated character in our parable. From a notorious sinner we don’t get excuses like “Well, God, next week I will collect the taxes honestly, so hear my prayer,” or, “Thanks, God, for the profit I made tax collecting the last month. I’ll give some away, so forgive me.” We get seven humble words. He realizes who he is (lost and separated from God), and he speaks the truth to God saying when he says “God be merciful to me a sinner.”
The Pharisee is all of us when we are at our best. When we have made the sale, survived the recession, made the “A” on the exam, or beaten the traffic home. From a notoriously righteous person we hear words that use earthly evidence of success as signs of God’s favor. We see someone comparing himself their self to others to justify their self before God by saying, “Thanks be to God I am not like other men.”
When we are at the bottom financially, emotionally, physically, or spiritually even, we can have what my friends in recovery call “a moment of clarity” and remember, as our tax collector does, that God still just might love us in spite of it all, and we can say, “God be merciful to me a sinner.”
When we are at the top sometimes we can forget that our success comes at the expense of others. That our successes, like our failures, can be opportunities to search the fabric of reality for evidence of God’s grace and not just a time of personal triumph or loss. Our accomplishment and piety does not make us loved any more or less than those less fortunate than we.
What would it be like if, when we walked out of the doors of our temple, we remembered always, first and foremost, that we are, as Tricia says in her blessing, born blessed?
What would it be like if we remembered, as we breathed in and out during the day, that God’s grace is enough to get us through the day?
Our friends who know Latin know that Sin, after all, means separation. Prayer is, Jesus offers us, the ultimate opportunity to remove that separation, no matter how desperate or difficult our present circumstances.
Our own Jesus prayers can take many forms. Sometimes they might sound like, “God help me, I am broke! Have mercy on me, a sinner.”
We are all equally loved by God, mortgage banker and deacon alike, rich man and poor.
Or, we might pray, “God thank you for this rain, this check that came in the mail, my health…”
We are all constantly loved, even in times of darkness, even though we separate ourselves from what Basil the Great called “The mad love of God.”
“God please help me because everything I do and say is wrong, it seems.”
We place ourselves at the bottom, away from God, wallowing in our erroneous comparisons with other people or our self-pity.
Or, our Jesus prayer might say, “God, please find me because I am lost.”
We place ourselves at the top, reveling in our latest victory or our good fortune, forgetting that we are there on the mountaintop by the grace of God.
“God help me to see you in the good times and the bad…” we might pray…
By our own doing, we divide ourselves into tribes, families, exclusive communities of faith, groupings that separate us from God and one another.
Maybe we pray this Jesus prayer, “God help us remember you are with us always no matter who we are or what we do or where we go.”
We are, in spite of what we come to believe about ourselves, as our Tibetan brother might have said last week, the light of God.
God be merciful to me, a sinner, Jesus teaches us to pray.
Seven simple words.
Monday, July 30, 2007
I am a big fan of two highly under-rated things: unstructured free time and long, meandering conversations.
This Summer, the summer before I plunge headfirst into the waters of Seminary and full-blown postulancy in the Episcopal Church, I have made an intentional effort to practice both with great regularity. Both of my girls are at camp right now, so my boy, wife and I have been a threesome since Saturday evening. Today, Aidan and I whiled away the morning, working hard at time-wasting activities like Legos Star Wars, the Video Game, Season 5 of The Simpsons and comic books. I hope I will always remember the image of my son, silhouetted by the emerging daylight in his pajama bottoms (not shirt!) with his sleepy grin he always wears as he creeps into the kitchen following his usualy 830 AM or so reveille's.
When I was growing up my home had a constant flow of overnight guests. During them summer, it was unusual not to have a family from out of town Mom and Dad knew from their Army days, choir members on a tour to our Church or some former exchange student friends staying in our house. Maybe it was because we lived on the lake or something or maybe it was our decidedly 70's split-level house with the private downstairs that made us and other people feel comfortable with visiting. One highlight of these visits were the hours-long conversations we would have with our friends that started in the dining room during the fantastic dinners my parents whipped up (chili, seafood chowder, burgers, fish fries, red beans and rice) and wound up in the living room.
I remember the ugly green faux Louis XIV couch placed against the long wall of the living room. Facing them were the other 4 "company chairs) that our guests usually sat upon while we talked about nothing and everything in particular. I recall listening to our friends from Turkey tell us all about this strange religion called Islam and inform us that "Esau" (our Jesus) was a great prophet. I recall Bozorg and Hussein, two Iranian students (I wonder where those dudes are now??) chain smoked Marlboro Reds (back in the day when one smoked indoors) and discussed their Economics degrees. Friends from church, the neighborhood, Atlanta and all over seemed to wind up in that living room after dinner and before we knew it someone would look at their watch and say, "Wow, 11:00, we have to get to bed" (or get going, if they were not staying).
This enormous house we live in was built during a stressful, adversity-ridden period of our lives- so much so that when we moved in, we did not want to live here. The antidote for the bad energy, karma, juju or whatever we felt filled this place upon our arrival, has been filling the house with friends and long, meandering conversation. Last weekend, we had a friend come over at about 3:00 and stay until 11:00. We had conversation the whole time with her about God, business, college, sobriety and what must have been a huge list of topics. I love the fact that our house is silent much of the time due to the fact that no TVs take residence here. Interesting people can come over and we can talk over good music, a couple of bottles of wine and silence. The bad spirits of the years we built this house are being crowded out, one by one, with each word uttered by guests finding comfort underneath our roof.
Make sure you make time to do nothing and to talk about whatever. Aggressively pursue boredom. Sit still long enough to remember that you are alive.
This Summer, the summer before I plunge headfirst into the waters of Seminary and full-blown postulancy in the Episcopal Church, I have made an intentional effort to practice both with great regularity. Both of my girls are at camp right now, so my boy, wife and I have been a threesome since Saturday evening. Today, Aidan and I whiled away the morning, working hard at time-wasting activities like Legos Star Wars, the Video Game, Season 5 of The Simpsons and comic books. I hope I will always remember the image of my son, silhouetted by the emerging daylight in his pajama bottoms (not shirt!) with his sleepy grin he always wears as he creeps into the kitchen following his usualy 830 AM or so reveille's.
When I was growing up my home had a constant flow of overnight guests. During them summer, it was unusual not to have a family from out of town Mom and Dad knew from their Army days, choir members on a tour to our Church or some former exchange student friends staying in our house. Maybe it was because we lived on the lake or something or maybe it was our decidedly 70's split-level house with the private downstairs that made us and other people feel comfortable with visiting. One highlight of these visits were the hours-long conversations we would have with our friends that started in the dining room during the fantastic dinners my parents whipped up (chili, seafood chowder, burgers, fish fries, red beans and rice) and wound up in the living room.
I remember the ugly green faux Louis XIV couch placed against the long wall of the living room. Facing them were the other 4 "company chairs) that our guests usually sat upon while we talked about nothing and everything in particular. I recall listening to our friends from Turkey tell us all about this strange religion called Islam and inform us that "Esau" (our Jesus) was a great prophet. I recall Bozorg and Hussein, two Iranian students (I wonder where those dudes are now??) chain smoked Marlboro Reds (back in the day when one smoked indoors) and discussed their Economics degrees. Friends from church, the neighborhood, Atlanta and all over seemed to wind up in that living room after dinner and before we knew it someone would look at their watch and say, "Wow, 11:00, we have to get to bed" (or get going, if they were not staying).
This enormous house we live in was built during a stressful, adversity-ridden period of our lives- so much so that when we moved in, we did not want to live here. The antidote for the bad energy, karma, juju or whatever we felt filled this place upon our arrival, has been filling the house with friends and long, meandering conversation. Last weekend, we had a friend come over at about 3:00 and stay until 11:00. We had conversation the whole time with her about God, business, college, sobriety and what must have been a huge list of topics. I love the fact that our house is silent much of the time due to the fact that no TVs take residence here. Interesting people can come over and we can talk over good music, a couple of bottles of wine and silence. The bad spirits of the years we built this house are being crowded out, one by one, with each word uttered by guests finding comfort underneath our roof.
Make sure you make time to do nothing and to talk about whatever. Aggressively pursue boredom. Sit still long enough to remember that you are alive.
Monday, July 16, 2007
The Gospel of Gryffindor
Never mind the hystrionics of one of my fellow Georgians, I think Harry Potter has plenty of the Gospel (as in Good News) hidden within its mythology of magic and witchcraft. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was my favorite so far because it has a lot of challenging messages within it that are not inconsistent with my brand of Christianity. I liked the scene when Harry is fighting off the mind-control of Voldemort and Dumbledore says to him, "You are more unlike him than you are like him" and Harry winds up screaming to Voldemort, "I feel sorry for you! You'll never have what I have..." (which is love- real, selfless love). Hmmmmm... sound familiar?
John 15:13 "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." What saved Harry in the first book, as well as in this latest film installment, was nothing he did with his will, or his wizard skill. What saved Harry was his relationship with his friends and the self-sacrificial love that he practiced as a part of who he was. (Can we say "Holy Spirit" anyone??) "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" is a great sermon. As Jesus once said , "For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother. (Matthew 12:50)
See, even liberal Christians can use proof texting to serve our ends. At least the end I am trying to reach here is that, in the end, love wins. Argue with that, my fundie friends!!!
Never mind the hystrionics of one of my fellow Georgians, I think Harry Potter has plenty of the Gospel (as in Good News) hidden within its mythology of magic and witchcraft. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was my favorite so far because it has a lot of challenging messages within it that are not inconsistent with my brand of Christianity. I liked the scene when Harry is fighting off the mind-control of Voldemort and Dumbledore says to him, "You are more unlike him than you are like him" and Harry winds up screaming to Voldemort, "I feel sorry for you! You'll never have what I have..." (which is love- real, selfless love). Hmmmmm... sound familiar?
John 15:13 "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." What saved Harry in the first book, as well as in this latest film installment, was nothing he did with his will, or his wizard skill. What saved Harry was his relationship with his friends and the self-sacrificial love that he practiced as a part of who he was. (Can we say "Holy Spirit" anyone??) "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" is a great sermon. As Jesus once said , "For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother. (Matthew 12:50)
See, even liberal Christians can use proof texting to serve our ends. At least the end I am trying to reach here is that, in the end, love wins. Argue with that, my fundie friends!!!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
I've been making my way through 2 books slowly- The Seeds of Heaven by Barbara Brown Taylor and Subversive Orthodoxy by Robert Inchausti. One theme that seems to be going on in my head lately is the idea "The Kingdom of God is like _____."
I like the passage in Matthew 13 when Jesus seems to be tossing metaphors around left and right to describe the kingdom of God. Sometimes his all over the place description can be frustrating because he never seems to nail it down into one tangible idea. "It is this, it is that it is treasure, it is mustard, it is leaven," he tells his friends.
Wow I have found that to be really powerful because lately I have found the Kingdom of God to be a little bit of this and that as well.
It is a dishwashing line and cooking asparagus for Rockell at Cafe 458.
It is hanging out with my children, reading them books and driving around Atlanta in my Mom-Mobile.
It is being with someone struggling with addiction, giving them over to God and sitting with them after their relapse.
It is all around us in everything we do, Jesus seems to be telling us. God's Kingdom is tiny, yet big.
So many people in our culture seem to think that God's Kingdom will be a big, magnificent, geo-political location. I couldn't disagree more. We are addicted to our own conceptions, molded by culture and personal history and ego needs, that God's Kingdom has to look and feel a certain way in order to be real or valid. God's Kingdom, Jesus seems to be telling us, is right under our silly noses. If we only stop looking far off in the distance for it we will see it , plain as day.
I like the passage in Matthew 13 when Jesus seems to be tossing metaphors around left and right to describe the kingdom of God. Sometimes his all over the place description can be frustrating because he never seems to nail it down into one tangible idea. "It is this, it is that it is treasure, it is mustard, it is leaven," he tells his friends.
Wow I have found that to be really powerful because lately I have found the Kingdom of God to be a little bit of this and that as well.
It is a dishwashing line and cooking asparagus for Rockell at Cafe 458.
It is hanging out with my children, reading them books and driving around Atlanta in my Mom-Mobile.
It is being with someone struggling with addiction, giving them over to God and sitting with them after their relapse.
It is all around us in everything we do, Jesus seems to be telling us. God's Kingdom is tiny, yet big.
So many people in our culture seem to think that God's Kingdom will be a big, magnificent, geo-political location. I couldn't disagree more. We are addicted to our own conceptions, molded by culture and personal history and ego needs, that God's Kingdom has to look and feel a certain way in order to be real or valid. God's Kingdom, Jesus seems to be telling us, is right under our silly noses. If we only stop looking far off in the distance for it we will see it , plain as day.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Generosity of Spirit
I just read a great book by Dietrich Bonhoeffer - "Life Together." Boenhoeffer was a part of the Confessing Church of Germany, a church that stood in opposition to the German Church who accepted and embraced National Socialism of Adolph Hitler during the 1930's and 40's. Before and during Hitler's rise to power, Boehnhoeffer was a pastor and a founder of a seminary at Finkenwalde. In the seminary, he began an intentional community ommunity called (and this is a translation) "The Brother's House." Life Together is a guide and rule for community and outlines some of the expectations, needs and requirements for healthy Christian Community.
One of the chapters that has gnawed at my mind is his chapter on Confession. One of the basics of confession that he asserts is that we must name our sins out loud to one another in order to begin healing the rift- the separation from God that the sins have caused. When I first read this, I had my basic Episcopalian aversion to this idea of Sin and confession, in that it seemed kind of severe. I pictured these harsh, uptight Calvinist types speaking German and sternly muttering their grievances and errors to one another.
Boenhoeffer believes, as do I now, that speaking our sins to one another in confession in order to seek forgiveness from God (first) and then one another, is of the utmost importance. Otherwise, as he puts it, we run the danger of just "praying to ourselves." Practically speaking, I have tried practicing this "speaking my sins" with my wife and life-partner first off before anyone else. I will admit right now that I do not do this as much as I can nor have I spoken all of them. In fact, if she ever reads this, my beloved bride will probably scoff and wonder when I EVER did this (but I know I did). I tried the experiment on my common sin of grumpiness (which, I have conjectured, translates into pride, but that is another entry). I said to her, " I was grumpy with you earlier and I should not have been and I am so sorry." Then, I took it to God and asked for forgiveness for being impatient and unkind and uncompassionate. This may sound like hooey, but I really felt forgiveness in a new way when I practiced this "Finkenwalde" form of confession.
Prayer is also about how we live, I have learned. I remember from my "Jesus Freak" days as a youth, I liked a singer named Keith Green who had this great song called "Make my Life a Prayer." It went like this
The isolation of the morning prayer alone, though, has moved me to unisolate it through things like the "Finkenwalde Confessional" (my term) of Bohnhoeffer. Both acts, in of themselves and alone, lead to empty stabs at piety. I sense a tension between the two, keep doing both of them, and this tension, I think, is God's voice.
It's like something else that occured to me today during the Eucharist I attended at a small church in North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I noticed for the first time the words "Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again." We spend so much time trying to rationally defend, describe, convenantize, and make tangible those three assumptions that run to the very heart of Christianity and we always, inevitably, fail in the attempt.
I laughed when it hit me that that is why they call it a mystery. We can't figure it out with our heads, can we? It runs beyond our reductive, science-clad, rationally equipped brains.
I don't know why confession like DB recommends works for me, moves the separating agent of Sin out of my life in a more complete way and allows God to fill the hole shaped like her with her love instead of my notions of what that should be. I love the "mysteries of faith", but I most of all love the fact that we are given the gift of forgiveness from God. We can pray the "token prayers" in order to be led to make our lives, how we spend our time and energy, prayers as well and do what God wants us to do instead of what we will.
I just read a great book by Dietrich Bonhoeffer - "Life Together." Boenhoeffer was a part of the Confessing Church of Germany, a church that stood in opposition to the German Church who accepted and embraced National Socialism of Adolph Hitler during the 1930's and 40's. Before and during Hitler's rise to power, Boehnhoeffer was a pastor and a founder of a seminary at Finkenwalde. In the seminary, he began an intentional community ommunity called (and this is a translation) "The Brother's House." Life Together is a guide and rule for community and outlines some of the expectations, needs and requirements for healthy Christian Community.
One of the chapters that has gnawed at my mind is his chapter on Confession. One of the basics of confession that he asserts is that we must name our sins out loud to one another in order to begin healing the rift- the separation from God that the sins have caused. When I first read this, I had my basic Episcopalian aversion to this idea of Sin and confession, in that it seemed kind of severe. I pictured these harsh, uptight Calvinist types speaking German and sternly muttering their grievances and errors to one another.
Boenhoeffer believes, as do I now, that speaking our sins to one another in confession in order to seek forgiveness from God (first) and then one another, is of the utmost importance. Otherwise, as he puts it, we run the danger of just "praying to ourselves." Practically speaking, I have tried practicing this "speaking my sins" with my wife and life-partner first off before anyone else. I will admit right now that I do not do this as much as I can nor have I spoken all of them. In fact, if she ever reads this, my beloved bride will probably scoff and wonder when I EVER did this (but I know I did). I tried the experiment on my common sin of grumpiness (which, I have conjectured, translates into pride, but that is another entry). I said to her, " I was grumpy with you earlier and I should not have been and I am so sorry." Then, I took it to God and asked for forgiveness for being impatient and unkind and uncompassionate. This may sound like hooey, but I really felt forgiveness in a new way when I practiced this "Finkenwalde" form of confession.
Prayer is also about how we live, I have learned. I remember from my "Jesus Freak" days as a youth, I liked a singer named Keith Green who had this great song called "Make my Life a Prayer." It went like this
Make my life a prayer to You,
I want to do what you want me to,
No empty words and no white lies,
No token prayers, no compromise,
The isolation of the morning prayer alone, though, has moved me to unisolate it through things like the "Finkenwalde Confessional" (my term) of Bohnhoeffer. Both acts, in of themselves and alone, lead to empty stabs at piety. I sense a tension between the two, keep doing both of them, and this tension, I think, is God's voice.
It's like something else that occured to me today during the Eucharist I attended at a small church in North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I noticed for the first time the words "Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again." We spend so much time trying to rationally defend, describe, convenantize, and make tangible those three assumptions that run to the very heart of Christianity and we always, inevitably, fail in the attempt.
I laughed when it hit me that that is why they call it a mystery. We can't figure it out with our heads, can we? It runs beyond our reductive, science-clad, rationally equipped brains.
I don't know why confession like DB recommends works for me, moves the separating agent of Sin out of my life in a more complete way and allows God to fill the hole shaped like her with her love instead of my notions of what that should be. I love the "mysteries of faith", but I most of all love the fact that we are given the gift of forgiveness from God. We can pray the "token prayers" in order to be led to make our lives, how we spend our time and energy, prayers as well and do what God wants us to do instead of what we will.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
There are Others Like Me!
I got this today and found it to be most enlightening. Media Matters, my favorite liberal attack dogs, put together this report Left Behind: The Skewed Representation of Religion in Major News Media .
I get tired of people like the Pat Robertson and the clowns on TBN and Peter Akinola getting to be de facto spokespersons for Christians. They don't speak for me and this report certainly highlights how progressives and liberals such as myself have been left out in media coverage.
I get tired of people like the Pat Robertson and the clowns on TBN and Peter Akinola getting to be de facto spokespersons for Christians. They don't speak for me and this report certainly highlights how progressives and liberals such as myself have been left out in media coverage.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
A Heartless B-Word
I heard this cool song on XM radio the other day- basically the lyrics were speaking out against opinionated record store employees. I guess they were addressing folks like the character Jack Black played in High Fidelity- people who find bad music offensive and a sign of a shallow soul and worthless life. The lyrics talked about how the record store kid knew nothing about him and had no room to judge him for buying the bad music. (What was he buying" I wondered?? Leo Sayre? Jimmy Buffett?? Sister Sledge??) Indeed, I am of the ranks of the music snobs- I have solidly refused to ever let musical crap cross the threshold of my home. The radio gets turned off if Dad, the musical Dictator, hears subpar tunage on the radio. I am arbiter of Music Taste here, like it or not. Luckily, I have indoctrinated my people well. No Britney.. No Justin... No Boy Bands (ever!!!) in my home. My kids are growing up with a good music pedigree, and I am to blame.
Like right now- I just downloaded what I consider to be one of the best records I have heard... ever.... (at least in the last couple of years). It is called "All This Time" by "Heartless Bastards" (not to be confused with James McMurtry's backup band The Heartless Bastards.. note the lack of the definite article here). I have a real yen for girl singers (Kasey Chambers, Lucinda, Cheri Knight, Chrissy Hynde..) and Erica really, well, to borrow an overused Rock and Roll phrase, kicks ass.
I played the cut "Into the Open" for my Twelve Year Old and she said she didn't like it. But, it pleased me to no end that she then piped up with "But I downloaded this cool Dandy Warhols Song" and she began to bang her head in the air, shaking her long, hippy-straight air in time with the song. Yes! I am an Alterna-Dad supreme!
Music is sacramental in our house. We listen to it to start up our day and end our evenings. We lack televisions (killed them a couple of years ago in a fit of self-righteous New Years Day Resolution making- that's another story) but regularly turn on the crappy stereo to listen to Satellite Radio and CDs and classical music (usually late at night).
Music contrary to my tastes is fundamentally offensive to me and subject to expulsion from my household due to the fact that I am the Daddy and the Musician in Residence who regularly gets up in public and makes music for others. I am the Musical king. I am the pre-Vatican II of musical doctrine for the Babuka Black Household. I am Cardinal Timmah defending the faith of music against the onslaught of commercial heresy. Cross me and you will face musical ex-communication and be forced to listen to your tunes forever on your headphones. Hear my inflexible, literal interpretation of musical belief and disobey at your peril.
Praise George, Paul, Ringo and John! Let Dylan Ring!
Like right now- I just downloaded what I consider to be one of the best records I have heard... ever.... (at least in the last couple of years). It is called "All This Time" by "Heartless Bastards" (not to be confused with James McMurtry's backup band The Heartless Bastards.. note the lack of the definite article here). I have a real yen for girl singers (Kasey Chambers, Lucinda, Cheri Knight, Chrissy Hynde..) and Erica really, well, to borrow an overused Rock and Roll phrase, kicks ass.
I played the cut "Into the Open" for my Twelve Year Old and she said she didn't like it. But, it pleased me to no end that she then piped up with "But I downloaded this cool Dandy Warhols Song" and she began to bang her head in the air, shaking her long, hippy-straight air in time with the song. Yes! I am an Alterna-Dad supreme!
Music is sacramental in our house. We listen to it to start up our day and end our evenings. We lack televisions (killed them a couple of years ago in a fit of self-righteous New Years Day Resolution making- that's another story) but regularly turn on the crappy stereo to listen to Satellite Radio and CDs and classical music (usually late at night).
Music contrary to my tastes is fundamentally offensive to me and subject to expulsion from my household due to the fact that I am the Daddy and the Musician in Residence who regularly gets up in public and makes music for others. I am the Musical king. I am the pre-Vatican II of musical doctrine for the Babuka Black Household. I am Cardinal Timmah defending the faith of music against the onslaught of commercial heresy. Cross me and you will face musical ex-communication and be forced to listen to your tunes forever on your headphones. Hear my inflexible, literal interpretation of musical belief and disobey at your peril.
Praise George, Paul, Ringo and John! Let Dylan Ring!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Great Post about TEC and "The Situation"
This might be kind of weird- posting a post that was in response to something on another blog. However, I did not know how to link to the post (it was on the comments on Father Jake Stops the World- a blog I read every day- sometimes twice a day).
This was from Harry in the comments section. I hope he forgives me for reposting it without his permission...
This was from Harry in the comments section. I hope he forgives me for reposting it without his permission...
Having gays as scapegoats makes everything that is murky about American Christian life easier.
Everybody in America knows gays are everywhere. We have hit TV shows based on gay characters. We have constant revelations of gays in high and low places.
So, if we can pretend gays don't exist in our churches and base it on the idea of 'the one true orthodoxy' then we create a formula for dealing with everything else that is murky in our lives as Christians. If I say ridiculous things like, 'God Hates Fags' (from the extremists), to 'homosexuality is a choice' (from the slightly less extreme) to 'celibacy is an option' (from many Christians who know nothing about psychology or celibacy) to 'they can be cured if they ask Jesus to do so' (from those who have no idea what statistics on cures are and how dangerous they are for the individuals and their families)...if we can convince ourselves that the complex problem of homosexuality can be buried in blind faith, then the rest of it all becomes easy.
Witness the 70% figure for people who identify as Christian. Everyone who lives in this country knows that as time goes by fewer and fewer people go to church. I come from West Virginia mountain people, and I spent years as a farmer--so I'm not just talking about my arsty-fartsy intelligentsia Episcopalian friends! But, because we have a model for burying things--the gay model--we can bury the 'definition' of being Christian as easily.
One could make the argument that a 'yes' answer to the question 'are you Christian?' would be possible only if one answered yes to the following questions:
1. Do you actively feed the hungry?
2. Do you visit prisons?
3. Do you work to make sure people have places to sleep at night?
etc.
But these aren't the kinds of questions that matter when we start counting Christians. What matters is:
1. Are you Evangelical?
2. Where do you come down on the gay thing?
For Christ's sake, let's do the work and stop raising high the cross that's built of a million splinters over arguments that only mask the sloppiness of everyone's practice of Christian religion.
BY THE WAY--THE BIG GUY got really mad at King David for counting his troups, and I wonder if he likes it when we do....
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Tim Edits a Prayer Chain!!!
I got the following chain mail from someone. I have not confirmed if it is an Urban Legend or not. At first I thought it harmless enough, but it got me thinking. This prayer is subtly xenophobic.
ONE MINUTE EACH NIGHTIn WWII, there was an advisor to Churchill who organized a group ofPeople who dropped what they were doing every nightOne minute to collectively pray for the safety of England, its peopleAnd peace. There is now a group of people organizing theSame thing here in America. If you would like to participate: Each evening at 9:00 PM Eastern Time(8:00 PM Central) (6:00 PM Pacific), stop whatever you are doing andSpend one minute praying for the safety of the United States, ourTroops, our citizens, and for a Godly nation. If you know anyone whoWould like participate, please pass this along.Someone said if Christians really understood the full extent of thePower we have available through prayer, we might beSpeechless. Our prayers are the most powerful asset we have.Together, we "CAN" make a difference!
I offered the following edit and sent it out to the same email list that I was on.
ONE MINUTE EACH NIGHTIn WWII, there was an advisor to Churchill who organized a group ofPeople who dropped what they were doing every nightOne minute to collectively pray for the safety of England, its peopleAnd peace. There is now a group of people organizing theSame thing here in America. We have the opportunity, however, to
remember all people in prayer and not just the people of our nation.If you would like to participate: Each evening at 9:00 PM Eastern Time(8:00 PM Central) (6:00 PM Pacific), stop whatever you are doing andSpend one minute praying for the safety of all of the people everywhere,
for the cessation of all conflict , the citizens of all nations, and for a world at peace. If you know anyone who would like participate, please pass this along.Someone said if people of all faiths really understood the full extent of thePower we have available through prayer, we might be Speechless. Our prayers are the most powerful asset we have. Together, we "CAN" make a difference!
____________________________________
OK- so I get the sentiment of it and am sure that whoever sent this meant well.
However, as a Christian, I think I am called to pray for all people everywhere. My sister's church, First Baptist Chickamaugua, GA has a great slogan "Everybody Matters." If God's grace is real, then God loves all people - even people who might hate us and want us to die. That's a hard thing to swallow. Anne Lamott made the remark in one of her books (I think it was "Plan B") that God does not "have the same taste in people as we do."
Friday, February 02, 2007
Time Out World
We listen to XM Kids on the satellite radio every morning during our short commute to school. Many of the songs I find insufferable and often will insist that we switch over to X-Country or XMU. Any song with Elmo or any of the "Crazy Frog" tunes will necessitate a rapid channel change.
There's one song that I heard recently that I wish they would play on the radio. It's probably one of the best anti-war songs I have ever heard and the first "message intensive" kid's song I have heard in a while. Time Out World by The Sippy Cups says that we need a "Time Out World."
Many days when I hear the news, I wish that I had a huge loudspeaker I could get on and yell to everyone on earth "OK, let's just all chill the hell out... Time-out everyone. No hitting or yelling or (especially) shooting at each other." Put us all in opposite corners until we apologize to each other and admit our mistakes. Ground us all from our TV's and Ferraris and SUV's and Merlot until we are really sorry for hurting each other.
Time-out world. I'd like to live there.
There's one song that I heard recently that I wish they would play on the radio. It's probably one of the best anti-war songs I have ever heard and the first "message intensive" kid's song I have heard in a while. Time Out World by The Sippy Cups says that we need a "Time Out World."
Many days when I hear the news, I wish that I had a huge loudspeaker I could get on and yell to everyone on earth "OK, let's just all chill the hell out... Time-out everyone. No hitting or yelling or (especially) shooting at each other." Put us all in opposite corners until we apologize to each other and admit our mistakes. Ground us all from our TV's and Ferraris and SUV's and Merlot until we are really sorry for hurting each other.
Time-out world. I'd like to live there.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Orthodoxy for Liberal Christians
I've been reading a book by Alan Jones, dean of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. Common Prayer on Common Ground- A Vision of Anglican Orthodoxy, so far, has been pretty engaging and enlightening. I like that Fr. Jones has not fallen into the common trap of associating "orthodox" with "fundamentalist." In fact, he argues quite well in his book, especially in a chapter called "Fundamentalism and Scientism, a Plague on Both Their Houses," that overlying on rationality is just as "fundamentalist" as believing in biblical inerrancy. Both "houses," he contends, have an overeliance on a type of empiricism that destroys any need for mystery, contradiction and tension that is a natural part of this life.
I like this quote from Archbishop Peter Carnley that deals with the idea that Christianity is, at its heart, supposed to be a Theology of "transcendant mystery":
I think what he is driving at is that Anglicanism, at its best, (especially through the liturgy of Eucharist) strives to create a "table" where people who disagree vehemently about practical issues (Gay priesthood, evolution, biblical inerrancy) can sit down together.
I like this image. Even if we are all sitting at opposite ends of the table, at least we are at the same table. We can't get "food" without asking someone to pass it to us (or at least salt or dessert??)
This is the first book about the whole divide in Anglicanism right now that makes any sense. If you are of the Anglican persuasion, you should read it.
I like this quote from Archbishop Peter Carnley that deals with the idea that Christianity is, at its heart, supposed to be a Theology of "transcendant mystery":
"Others of us, in contrast, appreciate the Word of God not so much as a body of information, but as a form of questioning of the inner motives of our hearts, or as an invitation to relate with God, who ultimately remains essentially an unfathomable mystery to us, and as a Word of promist to be with us always as we wrestle to discern his truth for the living of our lives."I also like the idea he espouses that there are fundamentalists on the right and left and what marks one a fundamentalist is that they believe so fervently in their "fundamentals" that they do not listen to one another or even want to be at the same table.
I think what he is driving at is that Anglicanism, at its best, (especially through the liturgy of Eucharist) strives to create a "table" where people who disagree vehemently about practical issues (Gay priesthood, evolution, biblical inerrancy) can sit down together.
I like this image. Even if we are all sitting at opposite ends of the table, at least we are at the same table. We can't get "food" without asking someone to pass it to us (or at least salt or dessert??)
This is the first book about the whole divide in Anglicanism right now that makes any sense. If you are of the Anglican persuasion, you should read it.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)