Thursday, July 26, 2012

What every church should include in their bulletin...

Here is a welcome message from a REAL congregation ~ and I love it ~ let's hope we can DO it, too!
We extend a special welcome to those who are single, married, divorced, gay, filthy rich, dirt poor, yo no habla Ingles. We extend a special welcome to those who are crying new-borns, skinny as a rail or could afford to lose a few pounds.
We welcome you if you can sing like Andrea Bocelli or like our pastor who can’t carry a note in a bucket. You’re welcome here if you’re “just browsing,” just woke up or just got out of jail. We don’t care if you’re more Catholic than the Pope, or haven’t been in church since little Joey’s Baptism.

We extend a special welcome to those who are over 60 but not grown up yet, and to teenagers who are growing up too fast. We welcome soccer moms, NASCAR dads, starving artists, tree-huggers, latte-sippers, vegetarians, junk-food eaters. We welcome those who are in recovery or still addicted. We welcome you if you’re having problems or you’re down in the dumps or if you don’t like “organized religion,” we’ve been there too.

If you blew all your offering money at the dog track, you’re welcome here. We offer a special welcome to those who think the earth is flat, work too hard, don’t work, can’t spell, or because grandma is in town and wanted to go to church.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

One of those really GOOD days...

At day's end I had the realization that today was one of those really GOOD days.  To be sure, the weather was stunning in the Berkshires, and that helps.  But what really rings true has to do with the content of this day: it was all about ministry - real ministry - a quiet, compassionate quest for the presence of the holy with real people.  It is why I went into this work 30 years ago and why I love it still.  There was no bullshit today.  And as I spent time reflecting on what actually took place, once again the core of my ministry was revealed:  I am most at peace and grounded not when I'm doing big and so-called important things (although they happen from time to time); no what strikes me as most authentic is when I spend time in tender and honest conversations, offering prayer, sharing study and  searching for the presence of the Lord with people who want to go deeper. 

The day began cautiously thinking about how best to help one of the aging folk in our faith community transition into a more limited commitment.  This is complicated and needs to be handled with love and respect.  And when our planning conversation came to a close I was touched by the creativity and conviction that runs so deep among my leadership team. They truly seek the mind of Christ. 

As the morning matured, I checked in with my staff and then celebrated midday Eucharist.  We are reading through the "Sermon on the Mount" this summer and shed some tears together over the second beatitude in Peterson's reworking:

You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

There is nothing "beautiful" about this truth:  it hurts and aches forever to lose what is most dear to you.  It is humbling and humiliating - and, at the same time, it can be liberating, too.  After Eucharist I had the privilege of planning a wedding vow renewal ceremony.  Then I spent sometime with my church sexton exploring a seminar we hope to do together on "PTSD and Veterans."  The afternoon came to a close finalizing the wedding logistics for a young couple who will be married next Saturday.

On one level, not a lot of "important" things happened today - certainly not a lot of social justice work - nor anything that anyone beyond a select few might ever notice.  I think that was one of the blessings because it felt like Psalm 4, the other reading at today's Eucharist, that states:

Complain if you must, but don't lash out.
Keep your mouth shut, and let your heart do the talking.
Build your case before God and wait for his verdict.

Why is everyone hungry for more? "More, more," they say.
"More, more."
I have God's more-than-enough,
More joy in one ordinary day than they get in all their shopping sprees...


Today I tasted a sweet portion of "God's more-than-enough" in the relationships that were shared, in the quest for integrity in each encounter and a living commitment to faithful living and real compassion.  As one of the songs at the Jewish Seder says:  dayenu!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Some of the reasons why the stories of Sarah matter...

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for Sunday, July 29, 2012.  We will be celebrating worship outdoors this Sunday - weather permitting - in the small lot next to the church building.  (If it rains, it will be business as usual.) So bring a chair or blanket and join the fun.  I am wrappng up my OT series this week and will head into the 7 Essential Stories of the NT next week.

Introduction
Today I am going to talk with you about Sarah – the loving, complicated, creative and challenging wife of Israel’s patriarch Abraham – and why she matters to us as 21st century Christians.  As you probably know by now, I believe that knowing the stories of the Bible – the stories of our ancient tradition – is very important. 

Critically important, you see, because these stories help us grasp and nourish an alternative vision to the status quo – a new way of living beyond the obvious – a liberating way of being in a sea of consumerism, fear and violence.  These stories, in fact, are one of the portals into the kingdom of God.

·       They help us see not only how real people like us tend to live in all our messiness – they are excellent mirrors of human behavior – but they also offer us sacred alternatives – ways for us to become healthier in body, spirit and mind. 

·        How did Jesus put it in today’s gospel when asked why some people demand fasting but Jesus favors a party?

"When you're celebrating a wedding, you don't skimp on the cake and wine. You     feast. Later you may need to pull in your belt, but not now. No one throws cold water on a friendly bonfire. This is Kingdom Come!"

I think Jesus is saying: “Come on, there is not a one-size fits all way of living faithfully.  How do our own Scriptures put it?  To everything there is a season, right?  A time to live and a time to die, a time to dance and a time to mourn, a time to feast and a time to fast, a time for war and a time for peace.  So wake up and listen to what is going on within you and all around you for THIS is kingdom come living!”  Do you hear that, too?

The stories about Sarah also offer us some kingdom come wisdom for living.  So I’m going to give you the three that are most significant and ask you to consider why they matter for our lives.  They are:

·       The challenges Sara faced by living faithfully with her old, wild man husband, Abraham as recorded in Genesis 12.

·       The complexity of faith as revealed in the Ishmael stories in Genesis 16.

·       And the assurance of grace made flesh in the birth of her son Isaac in Genesis 18.

Each of these stories portrays a piece of why Sarah matters to us after 3500 years:  in all that time, human nature has not changed a great deal.  Sure, we live faster lives and have more stuff – for good and ill – but we still hurt those we love even when we don’t want to and family members betray one another with regularity.  And there is still senseless death and fear all around us as well as the living, mysterious and blessed presence of God’s grace.

Somebody asked me after worship last week why I didn’t say anything about the shootings in Aurora, Colorado – especially offer prayers for the victims.  And my reply went something like this:  when you look at a culture like ours – obsessed with violence and guns – why does it surprise us when evil pops up and kills innocent people?  This is horrible – and I grieve – but why are we surprised?

I went on to say that because this tragedy just happened, I didn’t yet have anything of grace or wisdom to share so I thought it better to remain silent rather than add to the blather that was already almost overwhelming.   Later that afternoon, for example, I went on line and read a few sermons and blogs about the shooting and to my mind they were either knee-jerk rants about gun control or else mostly incoherent mumblings about the meaninglessness of such violence and our common sense of helplessness.  In a word, it was too soon to speak and silence and discernment were the better albeit more uncomfortable way.

As the week as gone by, however, a few other thoughts have started to take root:

·       One, given the media feeding frenzy about this tragedy don’t you think the time has come for people of faith to unplug themselves from the sensationalistic addiction we have with 24/7 news broadcasts?  Over and over – like the 9/11 video clips of the Twin Towers – we were saturated with bloody images.  In a way that was soul-numbing, reporters gave us one unnecessary fact after another in the illusion that maybe we might understand this horror better by being told that the shooter purchased 3000 rounds of ammunition on the Internet.  Dear people of God, we really don’t need more details about this shooting; and we truly don’t need more visual assaults.  Unplug as an act of prayer and justice – grieve for the wounded and the dead – but don’t let yourselves be manipulated or distracted from living by all hoopla.

·       Two, remember the arc of the Good Friday/Easter story.  My friend and colleague, Rick Floyd, recently posted these words that warrant repeating:  The Christian faith is built upon the conviction that God has acted, and continues to act in the midst of humankind’s repeated lapses into senseless violence. God joins us in our tears and grief, yes. The first heart broken on Friday morning was God’s. But God has done more than that, physically bearing the worst that humanity can dish out, and rising from it, to make a way for us to withstand the darkness and become bearers of the light.”  The violence and the evil – while very real and ugly – are NOT the end of the story, beloved.  What did we sing at the start of worship?  Christ the Lord is… risen today:  alleluia!  We don’t have to see it to know that it is true. 

We are, you see, people of the Cross – people who live by faith that the life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ – are the deepest truth God has offered the world.  And this love and grace is not dependent upon our accepting it or understanding it:  God offers us grace because God is God.
What Jesus did upon the cross, he did for (all who suffer and know pain and sin) for us all. He did it for the shooting victims in Aurora, for their families, for the casualties of history’s wars and conflicts, for all the times we as human beings sink below our humanity. He did it for the victims and, yes, he did it for the perpetrators. He took upon himself all the brokenness in our lives, and did it with no guarantee that we would ever respond. This unconditional gift, beyond all price, reveals what love truly is, and shows the heart of God to be filled with knowledge and compassion for our condition. It was not done in folk tale or myth, but in the midst of our history. Over a century ago George MacDonald said, “The Son of God suffered unto death, not that we might not suffer, but that our suffering might be like his.” (To Speak of God Now, Howard MacMullen)

Our culture doesn’t know – maybe has never known and certainly if it did know has forgotten – the truth of the Lord in our stories of faith.  No wonder the vast bulk of what has been spoken and said about the shootings is so empty.  And so, my friends, like a broken record I want to go back to the stories of our faith tradition over and over – and invite you to join me – as we listen for God’s deepest truth – a way into the very kingdom – through them.

Insights
First, a reminder of the complexity and consequence of living by faith from Genesis 12…

Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you: I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’ So Abram went, as the Lord had told him; and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai and his brother’s son Lot, and all the possessions that they had gathered, and the persons whom they had acquired in Haran; and they set forth to go to the land of Canaan….But there was a famine in the land. So Abram went down to Egypt to reside there as an alien, for the famine was severe in the land. When he was about to enter Egypt, he said to his wife Sarai, ‘I know well that you are a woman beautiful in appearance; and when the Egyptians see you, they will say, “This is his wife”; then they will kill me, but they will let you live. Say you are my sister, so that it may go well with me because of you, and that my life may be spared on your account.’ When Abram entered Egypt the Egyptians saw that the woman was very beautiful.  When the officials of Pharaoh saw her, they praised her to Pharaoh. And the woman was taken into Pharaoh’s house.  And for her sake he dealt well with Abram; and he had sheep, oxen, male donkeys, male and female slaves, female donkeys, and camels.

This blows my mind:  at the ripe old age of 65 instead of receiving Social Security Sarah follows her wild and prophetic husband out of civilization into the wilderness according to a plan and inspiration only he had comprehended.  Then when they arrive at their unknown destination there is a famine so they have to take a detour to Egypt.  And when they get to Pharaoh’s land Sarah’s beauty spooks Abraham so he lies about their marriage and gives her as a concubine to the political Lord and Master of the land.

What do you even DO with such a story? Think of the fear – and confusion – and pain and shame Sarah experienced.  What strikes you about this story…?  Let me make two observations knowing that there is a whole lot more we could and should discuss here, ok?

·       This story of Sarah speaks to me of the ways we often hurt our loved ones – make stupid and even ugly choices out of fear – and expect others to follow and obey.  Abraham had his reasons – we all do – and while we may not have sold out our spouse for safety and a whole lot of sheep, oxen, male donkeys, male and female slaves, female donkeys, and camels” I bet you can name ways you have made some choices that have wounded those you love.  Life is messy and this story invites us to careful with our judgment:  like St. Paul says, “All of sinned and fallen short of the glory of God – all and every one of us.”

·       This story also speaks to me of Sarah’s abiding trust in the Lord – not necessarily Abraham – but God.  Yes, she obeyed her husband because that is what women did in those days.  But she was also willing to endure challenges and uncertainty because she trusted God’s grace even when there was no obvious evidence.  Do you know what I am saying?  In this, she is not unlike the Virgin Mary who says to the angel Gabriel before the birth of Christ, “Ok, I don’t get it but I am going to be open to your love by faith and let you work even miracles through my flesh.”

Sarah speaks to us of an abiding faith that accepts uncertainty because her trust is so deep – and let’s be clear that this is a faith not simply for women – but for men and children and congregations, too.  That’s one reason why I believe the story of Sarah matters for us today.

The second story involves one of Sarah’s servants, Hagar, the wild man Abraham and an unexpected child named Ishmael from Genesis 16..
Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, bore him no children. She had an Egyptian slave-girl whose name was Hagar, and Sarai said to Abram, ‘You see that the Lord has prevented me from bearing children; go in to my slave-girl; it may be that I shall obtain children by her.’ And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai. So, after Abram had lived for ten years in the land of Canaan, Sarai, Abram’s wife, took Hagar the Egyptian, her slave-girl, and gave her to her husband Abram as a wife. He went in to Hagar, and she conceived… the angel of the Lord said to her,
‘Now you have conceived and shall bear a son;
you shall call him Ishmael,

for the Lord has given heed to your affliction.
He shall be a wild ass of a man,
with his hand against everyone,
and everyone’s hand against him;
and he shall live at odds with all his kin.’

One of the unexpected consequences of Sarah being given to Pharaoh as a concubine in Egypt is that Abraham was given a huge dowry. And in addition to the sheep and oxen and all the rest – Sarai – which means princess – was given some slaves – one of whom turned out to be Hagar – which means stranger.  The tradition of the Jewish rabbis even suggests that Hagar was the daughter of Pharaoh. Now three things are important to remember in this part of the story:

·       First, Sarah gave Hagar to her husband because at age 75 she still hadn’t conceived.  You might say, Sarah grew tired of waiting on the Lord and decided to take things into her own hands – and it didn’t turn out to be such a great idea.  Waiting on the Lord is tough – most of us need a lot of encouragement – and time and again we grow impatient and try to move things along and this story suggests that is almost always a problem.

·       Second, when Hagar becomes pregnant she starts acting haughty – like she is superior to Sarah – and this infuriates the matriarch.  This might be one of the first stories about the doctrine of unintended consequences:  Sarah’s motivation and intention was good – not patient – but pure, but the result of her actions was totally unexpected.  Reinhold Niebuhr says that faithful people must always know that there will be surprises – ironies – to everything we do that we cannot even imagine.  And these ironies will cause us to act with humility to correct them… and on and on it goes forever.  Hagar’s acting “uppitidy” was not part of the plan.

·       And third, Sarah’s response to her own hurt feelings – banishing Hagar to perish in the desert – is a problem, too.  She sends her pregnant slave-girl out into the desert to die of thirst until God comes along as an angel to rescue the outcast, right?  How many times have we been hurt by someone we loved and trusted – and rather than go to them and ask why things have become so messed up – we react in cruel or destructive ways?  This story reminds us that while it is human nature to do stupid and mean-spirited things when we are hurt, it is not kingdom living.  God goes to Hagar and brings her healing – what’s more the Lord returns her to Abraham and Sarah’s household – until the child, Ishmael is 13.  And just to add insult to injury, Abraham (as you might expect) comes to love and cherish his first born son…. Ouch!

There is a ton of other insights to bring out about this story – including how it is treasured in Islam – but for now maybe that’s enough.  As the prophet Isaiah once said:  For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Human beings have always had a problem with waiting on the Lord – and Sarah shows us just one layer of the difficulty we create for ourselves when we fail to practice waiting on the Lord. 

Do you know the old gospel tune that comes from Isaiah?  Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings as the eagle; they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not be faint:  teach me, Lord, teach me, Lord to wait. I think the ancient stories of Sarah have incredible contemporary value.

So one more – the great story of the birth of Isaac – from Genesis 18…

The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed down to the ground. He said, ‘My lord, if I find favor with you, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree. Let me bring a little bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that you may pass on—since you have come to your servant.’ So they said, ‘Do as you have said.’ And Abraham hastened into the tent to Sarah, and said, ‘Make ready quickly three measures of choice flour, knead it, and make cakes… And as they ate the said to him, ‘Where is your wife Sarah?’ And he said, ‘There, in the tent.’ Then one said, ‘I will surely return to you in due season, and your wife Sarah shall have a son.’ And Sarah was listening at the tent entrance behind him. Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age; it had ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women. So Sarah laughed to herself, saying, ‘After I have grown old, and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?’
Let’s say out loud just a few of the obvious blessings from this story:

·       God comes to Abraham in an unexpected way – as three strangers travelling the road – and this happens so often we are asked to pay attention:  in fact, you might be wise to say that MOSTLY God comes to us in unexpected ways,  yes?  As a baby in a manger, as a crucified loser on a hill outside Jerusalem, as an unexpected guest in need of dinner.

·      And what is God’s request when the Holy One shows up as a stranger?  Hospitality, right?  Not fear or judgment or uncertainty.  Abraham welcomes the three strangers into his tent and nourishes them.

·      And in the midst of this hospitality, God’s promise is revealed:  Sarah will bear a child.  So many blessings are multiplied and revealed when we feed one another and welcome one another in peace.  In some ways, it is a no-brainer but it is so counter-cultural in our fear-based generation.

And finally, most of us find God’s promised blessings hard to imagine:  what does Sarah do?  She laughs – who wouldn’t – it doesn’t even make sense.  But our limited imaginations and short-sighted comprehension doesn’t limit God’s grace – and eventually Isaac is born just as God promised.  The other night I was reading about one of the English mystics in The Cloud of Unknowing and came across these words:  Although God eludes the intellect, this does not mean that God in unknowable. It means, rather, that God is not a concept. What cannot be thought may still be known by love.

Conclusion
We are not in charge, dear people of God, the Lord is – and that is good news.  We can’t comprehend the fullness of God’s promise and grace – and that is good news, too – because that means God doesn’t have to depend on us to understand or always get it right.  And even when life seems the most perplexing and frightening – when we do our worst to one another and ourselves – that is not the end of the story:  God’s love is greater than our actions and sin.
Spending time with the stories of God in action can not only train us to live by faith when the outward evidence isn’t clear, it can also lead us into kingdom come living right here and now.  We might be surrounded by stupidity and cruelty – and we are – we might be afraid and alone – and that is probably true, too – we might even laugh in the face of God’s promise.  But none of that stops the Lord our God from advancing the cause of grace in Jesus Christ our Lord.  And this is the really good news for today for those who have ears to hear.

Monday, July 23, 2012

I love Patti Smith...

Truth be told:  I love Patti Smith.  In almost every way I think she is one of the blessed ones of this era. And from "Horses" and "Gloria" to "Banga" and everything in between she shares her heart and soul in ways that grab me where I live.  Somebody said that Patti Smith is what it looks like when you are faithful to rock and roll.  A few years back she put out this cover that I adore.

Seems to me, I was in a waaaay folky groove when "Horses" first came out in 1975. But when I came back to NYC in 1981, after 6 months in Costa Rica, I was ready for this wild woman.  Like Bono once observed: she (and Tom Verlaine from Television) were the real deal when it came to poetry and punk sensibility.  No bullshit, no compromise and no phony rage:  what they offered was naked passion and intellect in a molotov cocktail that after the explosion had you begging for more.

This song from her 1997 release still slays me...

And now she's gone and done it again with "Banga" a real monster! "In an interview on CBS News Sunday Morning on April 1, 2012, Smith explained the album's title: "for those who are curious, you can find what Banga is if you read The Master and Margarita by Bulgakov."[5] In The Master and Margarita, Banga is Pontius Pilate's dog who Pilate could freely complain about the hemicrania that tortured him.[6] Other songs on the album were also inspired by literature, particularly "April Fool," inspired by Nikolai Gogol.[5] (check it out @ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banga_(album))


On our ride home from Canada, we listened to her play guest DJ on Bob Boilen's "All Songs Considered" on NPR:  check it out @ http://www.npr.org/2012/06/19/155291456/guest-dj-patti-smith  Or go to her own website and find out what a gas - what rockin' prophet - and what a wise old rock and roll soul she still is @ http://www.pattismith.net/ intro.html Douglas Heselgrave writes of the new CD:

Smith reminds her listeners that—along with Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen—she is one of the few artists working in the popular music arena who has a literary sensibility that draws from a well of culture that goes far beyond rock’s tired paradigms. Though she’s only 65 years old, her command of language and metaphor that often demands or expects a familiarity with classical literature and thought makes her seem as if she’s from a far more archaic world than her years indicate. As in all of her work, the ghosts of the beat poets, Rimbaud and the Catholic saints inhabit and can be felt in every syllable and nuance of her new songs. On some cuts like “Amerigo” or “April Fool,” Smith sounds almost sweet, demonstrating that her voice has lost none of its flexibility over the years, while other songs like “fuji-San” and the title track bathe her listeners in the trademark angry, dancing, shivering wail that recalls some of her powerful, early work from the late ’70s.

On NPR she noted that she had to close the new CD with some hope and peace after the almost apocalyptic rage of "Constantine's Dream" so she chose Neil Young's almost childlike "After the Gold Rush" performed lived with her own two children.

Psalm 131 in Peterson's reworking says:

Like a baby content in its mother's arms, my soul is a child content.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Sunday reflections...with updates

Hmmm this could easily become a post-vacation/back to reality rant if I'm not careful...

I wonder: do Roman Catholic parishioners think that the parish priest wants/needs to know every passing thought and opinion about worship that each member of the congregation holds every week?  Probably not - and while I am clearly NOT a theological/structural Roman Catholic (I am waaaaay too Reformed in habit and commitment) - here's an insight: as a minister, I don't need to know every member's thoughts about every hymn selection, worship emphasis, sermon illustration or prayer metaphor either, ok?  That may come as a shock to some, but it is true. 

Quarterly I think it would be good to know if we're hitting a good cross section between new and traditional songs; and certainly an annual review of both how worship is working and how the congregation is participating is in order.  (Notice this is a both/and evaluation, yes?) I also think it is valuable for pastor and worship ministry team to visit and talk through the planning of each season because we all have blind spots and the more hearts and minds at the planning table the better. But that's enough:  I don't need to know how much you like one hymn over another every week, ok? 

I used to think that such a reaction was snarky, but now I believe it is a key to pastoral survival:  sometimes clergy just have to say to some folk, "Please, for the love of Jesus: be still."  That is still hard for me to do even after 30+ years of ministry, but it can mean the difference between sanity and being sucked down someone else's black hole.  Let's face it:  if you really put yourself out there - emotionally and artistically - a verbatim critique of worship is just cruel.  But some tired souls do just that - they call it being helpful - or even offering constructive criticism. 

But I've never met anyone in ministry - or a performer - that can honestly and creatively embrace a critique just minutes after a gig.  We're too vulnerable.  So I have a proposal for all the people in our churches that really want to be helpful (and not everybody does) that I would love to hear your take on:

+ First, if you don't like something in worship - a song, an illustration or an emphasis - sit on it for two weeks.  I mean it - don't blurt anything out spontaneously - but sit on it in discernment.  Don't obsess on it but let the truth of your life speak to you in this experience.  Ask yourself why this song/sermon/whatever caused you distress: do some inner work before making it the problem of your clergy.  Don't, I repeat, don't start with blame.

+ Second, if after three weeks you are still troubled, make an appointment to speak with your minister - and don't you dare do it after worship, ok?  Give yourself time to be in prayer and give your minister time to be able to process your concern, too.

+ And third, be a part of the annual worship evaluation of the church - clergy and congregation - but only if you are an active participant in weekly and special worship.  (There is an old joke about the woman who only comes on Easter who complains that, "Every time I come here he's always talking about the Resurrection."  You have to be present and engaged to earn a place at the table of evaluation.)

And you clergy people who sometimes feel beaten up - like we all do - let's make a promise to shake that nasty dust off our sandals as soon as it comes.  Let's insist that we not discuss/evaluate the specifics of this or that worship complaint on Sunday until there has been a time of discernment.  And let's train our congregations to be respectful of every one's role in the vulnerable, demanding and creative work of public worship.  What say ye all?

ADDITION:  A few hours after sharing this post, a few other thoughts are still swarming around, too so I will share them.  I was asked by a few people why I didn't say anything about the shooting tragedy in Aurora during worship.  My simple answer:  I don't have anything meaningful to say that hasn't already been said - sometimes over and over again on the TV - so I mostly choose to be silent.  The deeper answer (see yesterday's post) is that:

1) I refuse to be captive to the exploitative and sensational saturation of tragedy that defines our "so called news" in the USA.  For three days there have been special broadcasts, investigative reporting and now a program involving the President about these shootings.  Like films of the 9/11 attacks, we let ourselves become addicted to the gore and the heart break - and I think this keeps us distracted from real life and problems we can do something about.  So mostly I am unplugged, ok?  Mostly I do not believe that the most important spiritual/social matter is whatever is most sensational, yes?  And mostly I choose to grieve this sadness and trust that God is still God. 

2) My worldview accepts the reality of evil.  I want to explain it - I want to understand it - but sometimes I cannot.  Tragedy is real.  Evil is real.  And sadly, in a country born of violence and gun-mania - where simple differences are treated like reasons for polarization and combat - it doesn't shock me (sadly) when wounded people act out in evil and destructive ways.  I share a lament for the dead but I will not exploit them.  How did the wisdom preacher in Ecclesiastes put it?  There is nothing new under the sun...

And 3) Given our national character and history, isn't it time that American Christians grew up?  Do we really need to have our hand held and each horrible act of the world discussed in worship?  Isn't there a time to lament and quietly deal with our pain beyond a childish reaction to evil?  That would be... yes, I think, yes!  (Come on: Have we learned nothing since September 11th?)

After a wee nap, I spent some time in prayer and then went to visit two families in the wider church:  connecting with them fed my soul.  As the night comes to this day, I am grateful for the fullness of it all - the frustrations and the fun, the sorrow and the celebrations, the whole blessing thing - and am ready to chill for a bit with my honey and a PBS Mystery.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Sad reflections on yet another shoot-out in Colorado....

Yesterday, as the news reports about the shooting in Aurora escalated and the gory details became ever more unnecessary, I experienced a deep, deep sense of sadness.  But it wasn't until even the PBS News Hour spent time exploring the minutiae of this ugly event that it hit me again:  my culture has no ability to make room for either the ambiguity evil or tragedy.  All the news commentary - from MSNBC to PBS and FOX - became obsessed with layer upon layer of facts - as if more details might explain how such a horror could happen beyond our control.  It was as if the whole United States had become one big CSI show - where experts and civilians frantically excavate the crime scene for clues in the belief that they will bring meaning to the pain - and solve yet another problem. 

But the sobering and sometimes terrifying truth is there is no meaning in these details - and collecting more of them won't solve anything.  It is busy work that creates the illusion of control when both evil and tragedy are beyond our ability to manage or comprehend.  Yes, there is a case to be made for a return to the ban on assault weapons. Of course, there is something to be said about our attraction to violence as a form of entertainment. And without a doubt part of the problem is rooted in mental illness and a society without meaningful boundaries. (Did it strike anyone else as clarifying that when asked about the gunman, his neighbors said, "I didn't notice anything weird or out of the ordinary. He was a regular guy.  He didn't have much to say to anyone and mostly kept to himself."  Like this was a good thing?)

But gun laws will not eliminate evil and more compassion will not destroy tragedy: it is built into the order of creation.  More education, better laws and a healthier social compact can always help, but we deceive ourselves if we think more of anything can exorcise reality from sin and tragedy.  And this is not cynicism, but a worldview shaped by the Judeo-Christian-Muslim tradition.

Evil, wrote Reinhold Niebuhr, manifests itself time and again in the world through the sin of pride.  Individuals and groups act in selfish and uncritical ways until they wound and often destroy other selfish individuals and groups.  Clearly evil and pride were at work in the Colorado shootings.  Niebuhr teaches that we can minimize evil through communities of compassion and encounters with the healing forgiveness of God's grace. But we cannot eliminate evil nor can we force every person into communities of support and love.  So evil will endure... and not just in wounded or crazy other people but also within us, too.

And what of tragedy?  Niebuhr writes that throughout history tragedy tells us that the titanic forces of human existence" cannot be easily brought under the control of some little scheme of prudent rationality."  There are always the unintended consequences of noble and selfish acts.  There are often ironic developments from both compassionate and destructive commitments.  Again individuals and societies can acknowledge the truth of this paradox - and use what Niebuhr calls the modest resources of ethical coercion to manage - but given human nature tragedies will continue - and often take us by surprise.

As a culture, we have chosen to celebrate the individual - whatever we want and 
whenever we want it - is the rule of the day. (See this morning's NYTimes re: the challenge of curbing the public viewing of pornography at Internet cafes, libraries or planes @ http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/21/us/tablets-and-phones-lead-to-more-pornography-in-public.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper)

And in our mean-spirited gilded age this ethos works to wear down and denigrate any commitment to the common good.  Add to this the ever more violent nature of our entertainment industry and yet another layer of social conditioning has been weakened and polluted. Further, we are addicted to the conviction born of our westward expansion that with enough force we can bend any and all opponents to our will (even if our adventurism overseas since the Vietnam War and our experience with global warming tells us differently.) 

Small wonder we are shocked when evil becomes public and bewildered when tragedy hits home. We send in the experts to dig up more details to help us make sense of the incomprehensible.  And maybe we will even grieve a little before moving on to the next commitment or distraction.  But when business returns to usual we will keep on spinning until the next act of evil or tragedy surprises us again... and it will.  There is another way - one that grieves with the broken and sadly accepts the reality of sin - that is grounded in the very rhythm of the Lord.

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:



2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace...
15 Whatever is has already been,
and what will be has been before;
and God will call the past to account.

Friday, July 20, 2012

As my week comes to a close...

As my week comes to a close - I embrace Friday's as a living Sabbath given my gig in a local church - a few thoughts are bubbling to the surface.  First, it has been wonderful and challenging to be back in ministry after our vacation time in Canada.  Not challenging as in "OMG I don't want to go," but as in "there's a lot to be done this summer and there's a lot of creativity and pain, too" to say nothing of a humbling sense of my own limits. 

At Wednesday Eucharist, however, when we spoke about John the Baptist's fiery demands, one wise soul said, "John is just telling us to make sure to throw our broken and wounded places onto God's purifying fire - not toss in our whole selves - just the broken places."  He later added, "Unless you can find the quiet presence of grace in the Baptist, he'll always just be a pain in the ass." And so I experience both wonder and challenge...

Second, Nils Loffgren - guitarist in his own world as well as in Springsteen's band for 28 years - gave some words to a truth I've been playing with a lot in both worship and music gigs.  He talks about rhythm and balance - the importance of touching the head and heart while never forgetting the soul and body - so that joy, intensity and foolishness melt together. Of the current three and a half hour Springsteen shows, he said:

We're covering a lot of emotional territory. One of the things I kind of love about Bruce is that he wants you to feel the deep kind of songs that might bring a tear to your eye and really make you feel some uncomfortable things, but are important things not to dodge. At the same time, it's just as valuable and critical that you have the foolishness and silliness and the hilarity of rock & roll in the same evening. It's a very complex range of songs, and one type without the other would not be a good night. Certainly if you're an artist that only writes tragic songs or dark songs – or only happy songs and silly things – well then that's your show, I guess. But someone who does the whole scope, that's a very smart, correct, appropriate use of a great body of work.

(Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/nils-lofgren-i-dont-know-if-americans-can-handle-a-three-and-a-half-hour-show-20120719#ixzz21BAap6dT)

Last week at worship - or last night sitting in for a few tunes with Hal - that complex tapestry of combining the deep with the light - or the celebration with the sorrow - was at work.  I find that anything less is intellectually and emotionally dishonest.  Worship, for example, that is all about heaven or hell misses the paradox of living in the world but not of the world.  As Calvin wrote, but many in the Reformed tradition have forgotten, we start worship with confession NOT to evoke guilt and sacrifice but to invite gratitude and joy.  So, as another preacher put it, when the only thing you tell a congregation is that they have been "bad dogs..." they will act like bad dogs.  (Craig Barnes of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary notes how so much of contemporary preaching is addicted to the "bad dog" theme.)

At the same time, the pastel world of other types of preaching - mostly in our contemporary liberal congregations - essentially says: being nice is the heart of the gospel. No power.  No challenge.  No lament or exultation.  So that is bullshit, too.  No, like brother Nils says, it is all about the depth and complexity of life - in worship, in music making, in the arts - how was it put in a recent IMAGE Journal book review?

Through beauty we are drawn to the surface of things, and through beauty we also learn that there is more than a surface, that there are depths. The power of beauty... is its power to testify to that which lies beyond our grasp, indeed beyond the beautiful object itself. Beauty awakens in us desires and longings that beauty itself cannot completely fulfil.... In light of the cross we might begin to articulate an aesthetic that - unlike so much of the thinking of the past century - would preserve an important place for beauty. And at the same time, this beauty, precisely because it truly is beauty, would include within its dimensions both victor and outcast, both glory and suffering, both splendor and humility. (Check it out @ http://imagejournal.org/page/journal/)

And third, Ramadan has started for 2012 and I feel called to stay connected to my Islamic sisters and brothers by joining their fast in some way.  Some have suggested that we Christians spend some time with the Quran - and maybe the poetry of Rumi - for the next month so I'm going to make that part of my prayer of solidarity.  I've also started reading Martha Nussbaum's insightful new book, The New Religious Intolerance: Overcoming the Politics of Fear in an Anxious Age, and that is part of my fast, too.  She writes:

Once, not very long ago, Americans and Europeans prided themselves on their enlightened attitudes of religious tolerance and understanding... Today we have reasons to doubt this complacent self-assessment. Our situation calls urgently for search critical self-examination, as we try to uncover the roots of ugly fears and suspicions that currently disfigure all Western societies.

To that end, Rumi writes:

On Resurrection Day God will say, “What did you do with
the strength and energy your food gave you on earth? How did you use your eyes?

What did you make with your five senses while they were dimming and playing out?
I gave you hands and feetas tools for preparing the ground for planting. Did you,
in the health I gave, do the plowing?”


You will not be able to stand when you
hear those questions. You will bend double, and finally acknowledge the glory. God
will say, “Lift your head and answer the questions.” Your head will rise
a little, then slump again. “Look at me! Tell what you’ve done.” You try,
but you fall back flat

as a snake. “I want every detail. Say!” Eventually you
will be able to get to a sitting position. “Be plain and clear. I have given you
such gifts. What did you do with them?” You turn to the right looking to the
prophets for help, as though to say, I am stuck in the mud of my life. Help me
out of this!


They will answer, those kings, “The time for helping is past.
The plow stands there in the field. You should have used it.” Then you turn to
the left, where your family is, and they will say, “Don’t look at us? This conversation
is between you and your

creator.” Then you pray the prayer that is the essence
of every ritual: God, I have no hope. I am torn to shreds. You are my first and
last and only refuge.

Don’t do daily prayers like a bird pecking, moving its head
up and down. Prayer is an egg.

Hatch out the total helplessness inside.


Lord, may it be so...

the wisdom and grace of mystery...

In this week's summary of reflections at the Center for Contemplation and Action, Barbara Brown Taylor's synthesis of the apophatic ...