A life lived to the glory of God or...

For most of my adult life I haven't really known what the expression "the glory of God" actually meant.  I don't use it much because unless I've worked out a reasonable definition for myself, I can't use religious lingo.  I like to sing the word glory - it makes a beautiful sound in harmony with other voices - but let's just say I've been fuzzy about what it means.  About a year ago, however, after doing Biblical word studies I came to two clues that still resonate with me:

+ The first comes from looking at how the English word glory is translated in both the Old and Newer Testaments.  The Hebrew word, k-b-d - kabod - means heavy or weighty and is often used to connote significance and even majesty.  In Exodus, the prophet Moses asks to be shown God's glory - the fullness of God's power and essence - to which the One who is Holy replies:  'I shall make all my goodness pass before you, and before you I shall pronounce the name Yahweh; and I am gracious to those to whom I am gracious and I take pity on those on whom I take pity. But my face', he said, 'you cannot see, for no human being can see me and survive.' Then Yahweh said, 'Here is a place near me. You will stand on the rock, and when my glory passes by, I shall put you in a cleft of the rock and shield you with my hand until I have gone past. Then I shall take my hand away and you will see my back; but my face will not be seen."  (Exodus 33)  Other OT references speak of a brightness that is overwhelming in power - a radiance beyond comprehension - that illuminates all creation.  So metaphorically we're talking about the essence and depth of the Sacred that radiates through and shapes the totality of the world.

In the Newer Testament, the Hebrew word is rendered doxa from the Greek word meaning experienced truth and knowledge.  Sometime during the last two centuries before Christ, Hebrew scholars began using the word doxa in their translations of the Hebrew scriptures into the Greek Septuagint. With this, came  new significance suggesting an encounter with the profound essence of God.

+ The second popped up somewhere in my recent readings of Eugene Peterson. The short version is this: if Christ is the fullest revelation of God's essence that humanity can experience and grasp, then Jesus reveals to us God's glory.  And what is the essence of Jesus but his life, death, resurrection and ascension.  As the gospel of John makes clear over and over, Christ gives shape and form to God's glory on earth and God embraces Christ into the depth of glory beyond the Cross.  In The Contemplative Pastor, Peterson writes that he wants to live in such a way that grasps the difference between "a life lived to the glory of God and a life wasted in self-indulgence or trivialized diversions."

And in practice, as I have come to comprehend it, that means living to the glory of God means trusting what is known as the Paschal Mystery:  that by faith - and God's grace - all things can work for God if we love and trust the Lord.  Not that all things ARE good - that is clearly untrue - but that all things can be redeemed and transformed by God's love.  Now, I don't know if that matters to anyone else - and you have all probably already figured this out already - but this makes a huge difference for me.  Living into the glory of God is trusting that the God's grace is eternal and rules creation beyond all evidence.  As the old timers in Mississippi used to tell me, "THAT dog hunts!"

credits:
1) Glory to God in the highest by Betsy Woodyard @ betsywoodyard.com
2) Van Gogh @ manuelluz.wordpress.com

Rest in peace, James Gandolfini

I LOVED the Sopranos.  And I am not talkin' hyperbole:  I LOVED the Sopranos.  I have watched it a few times over - and love everything about it - from the music and the wise guy humor to the ambiguity and moral critique of a society obsessed with control and violence gone sour, bad and blue.  No secret that I wept to see that James Gandolfini, the actor who played Tony Soprano, died today while vacationing in Italy at age 51.  As one writer already noted, "God I hope he was welcomed into the arms of God accompanied by some good pasta and wine."  Me, too.

When I was a pastor in Tucson, AZ there was a woman roughly my age who beat cancer three times - she was smart, sassy, sexy and sweet.  But cancer number four was too much for all involved.  So as she made her peace with dying, she and her husband would sometimes drive to San Diego so that she could sit by the beach and enjoy the sunset with him.  That's 6 hours one way - and who knows how many times they made that trek?  He once confided to me after her death, "Here's the thing, man, live every day you have with the ones you love as fully as possible because there is no going back.  Spend the money you need no matter what the interest rate on the credit cards because... when it is gone, it's gone."

They had a special love that changed my heart.  I flew back from SF to do her funeral while just starting my doctoral studies because I promised her I wouldn't leave the final prayers to some stranger.  And over 500 people filled our Sanctuary.  So I wept when I heard Tony Soprano was gone.  Then I put on the Sopranos theme song and prayed this prayer written by Fr. Ed Hays:

Blessed are you, Lord our God,
who is the keeper of the Book of Life.
Today I have learned of the death of James Gandolfini,
   and as this type of news always does
   it comes as a shock.
We know, Lord, that we all must die,
   and that you alone keep the dates of our death
   within your book of life,
   but we still share the shock of death.
That news carries with it the shadow of fear,
   for it is a reminder that, someday, I too shall die.
Today, then, I pray for James
   who passed through the doorway of death,
   and I pray for myself as well.

I remember in my prayer
   the members of the family
   who surely are lost in sorrow at this time.
Support them with your Holy Spirit
   and grant them the courage to embrace this tragic mystery
   as part of the plan of life.

Lord, may the news of this death
   be for me a holy message
   of how not to waste my todays,
   how not to be unprepared for the arrival of death
   in my own life.
May I best remember James
   by being grateful for life today
   and by loving you, my God,
   with all my heart, all my strength and all my mind.

Eternal rest to the dearly departed and divine consolation to the family.
Amen.

Origin sin: what a dreadful choice of words...

Here is a truly helpful interpretation of what is at the heart of the doctrine of original sin.  It comes from Fr. Richard Rohr and not only resonates with reality, but helps frame the quest for going deeper into the truths often buried in calcified words or concepts.  As I have been playfully affirming for most of my ministry, poetry and music are often the best vehicles for theological insights.

Leonard Cohen’s song, “Anthem,” states in the refrain: “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” It sounds a lot like Paul’s statement about carrying “the treasure in earthen vessels” (2 Corinthians 4:7). These are both much more poetic ways of naming what we unfortunately called “original sin”—a poor choice of words because the word sin implies fault and culpability, and that is precisely not the point! Original sin was trying to warn us that the flaw at the heart of all reality is nothing we did personally, but that there is simply “a crack in everything” and so we should not be surprised when it shows itself in us or in everything else. This has the power to keep us patient, humble, and less judgmental. (One wonders if this does not also make the point that poetry and music are a better way to teach spiritual things than mental concepts.)

The deep intuitions of most church doctrines are invariably profound and correct, but they are still expressed in mechanical and literal language that everybody adores, stumbles over, denies, or fights. Hold on for a while until you get to the real meaning, which is far more than the literal meaning! That allows you to creatively both understand and critique things—without becoming oppositional, hateful, arrogant, and bitter yourself. Some call this “appreciative inquiry” and it has an entirely different tone that does not invite or create “the equal and opposite reaction” of physics. The opposite of contemplation is not action; it is reaction. Much of the “inconsistent ethic of life,” in my opinion, is based on ideological reactions and groupthink, not humble discernment of how darkness hides and “how the light gets in” to almost everything. I hope I do not shock you, but it is really possible to have very “ugly morality” and sometimes rather “beautiful immorality.” Please think and pray about that.

At my installation ceremony to ministry, "Anthem" was at the core of our liturgy: we sang it, it shaped our prayers and it guided the preacher's message.  As Paul said, "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God."  And that would be ALL of us - everyone - as we have been created "cracked" in order to mature into greater holiness.  To learn from our mistakes.  And to do so with humility and humor rather than hubris.  "We do have these treasurers in earthen vessels" - and that is not a mistake - it is how God created us.

In Henri Nouwen's collected observations re: spiritual direction, Wisdom for the Long Walk of Faith, he shares another important corrective to the damage done by the expression original sin.  He writes:

All of us have deep inner memories of the paradise that we have lost.  So maybe the word innocence is better than the word paradise. We were innocent before we started feeling guilty; we were in the light before we entered into the darkness; we were at home before we started to search for a home.  Deep in the recesses of our minds and hearts lies the hidden treasure that we once had and now seek. We know its preciousness, and we know that it holds the gift we most desire: a spiritual life stronger than physical death...

This is a sweet and refreshing alternative to the more corrosive and tragic  Reformed doctrine of "total depravity."  Now, even here, there is a hint of truth to the notion that human beings are totally unable to heal ourselves; that much also resonates with reality but Roman Catholic wisdom refuses to call the human soul depraved.  Rather they insist that everyone still retains a glimmer of the original light and innocence of creation - even if we're still "cracked."  To which Nouwen concludes:

Every time you listen with great attentiveness to the voice that calls you the Beloved, you will discover within yourself a desire to hear that voice longer and more deeply. It is like discovering a well in the desert. Once you have touched fertile ground, you want to dig deeper. This digging and search for an underground stream is the discipline of prayer.  And I have come to define prayer as listening to that voice - to the one who calls you the Beloved - the discipline of  prayer is to constantly go back to the truth of who we are and claim it for ourselves.  My life, you see, is rooted in my spiritual identity... payer is simply listening with careful attention and obedience.

My blogging friend, Blue Eyed Ennis, recently posted this poem by Denise Levertov that says much the same thing:

Days pass when I forget the mystery.
Problems insoluble and problems offering
their own ignored solutions
jostle for my attention, they crowd its antechamber
along with a host of diversions, my courtiers, wearing
their coloured clothes; caps and bells.

And then
once more the quiet mystery
is present to me, the throng's clamour
recedes: the mystery
that there is anything, anything at all,
let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything,
rather than void: and that, 0 Lord,
Creator, Hallowed one, You still,
hour by hour sustain it

I am a child of God - and that's all that matters...

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for Sunday, June 23, 2013.  For two weeks we will be away - Montreal - and then back on July 14th.

Introduction

The more I trust God’s intimacy and grace for me – and all of creation, too – the less I need or want things – or busyness – or distractions to fill my head.  You may recall that at the start of Lent I invited you to join me in a simple spiritual practice.  Every time we used water – in any way – we were invited to inwardly say:  “I am God’s beloved and my life has meaning.”  Do you call that exercise?

The genesis of this prayer comes from our roots in Judaism – from the practices of the heirs of Abraham and Sarah as well as Moses and the prophets – who regularly lift up short prayers of thanksgiving to the Lord for all manner of things. They are called berakah from the Hebrew word barak that means blessing. 

·       Blessed are you, O Lord our God, who gives to us nourishment in times of silence and solitude.

·       Blessed are you, O Lord our God, who brings to us the rising of the sun each day .

·       Blessed are you, O Lord our God, who from our mother the earth shares with us our daily bread.

Before the sharing of the wine at the Passover Seder, the host prays:  Blessed are you, O Lord our God, who creates the fruit of the vine. (Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheynu Melech Ha-Olam borey p’ree ha-gaw-fan.)  Our simple Lenten exercise was in essence a 21^st century version of an ancient practiced designed to help us see everything as potentially holy and precious.  Well, as the result of praying this blessing maybe 20 or 30 times each day during Lent, two things have taken place in my life:

·      First, I am still doing it!  Whenever I wash my hands – or fill the dishwasher – or even flush the toilet, I say to myself:  Remember, I am God’s beloved and my life still has meaning.  On good days and bad days, when people love me or forget me, when I feel like a million bucks and when I feel like… garbage, the blessing prayer keeps me grounded in the truth that I am a child of God – beloved of the Lord – and my life has meaning.

·      And the second thing that has happened is that I find myself turning off more and more stupid, mean-spirited or simply ugly and violent television programs.  During Lent I told you that I felt inspired to quit watching cable news, right?  Those cats are just too vile and vicious to advance the cause of learning what’s happening in the world.  So, much as I once loved them, I haven’t spent any time with CNN, MSNBC or Fox News in five months.

And now I find I’m turning off some of the overly violent and gory mystery shows that I used to love, too.  I am a mystery junky – I probably should go to mystery junkies anonymous – because I LOVE ‘em.  But what I’m discovering these days is that some of the shows I used to enjoy look more and more to me like brutal pornography than entertainment.  And I don’t want to fill my head and heart with images and ideas of cruelty and destruction.  Because… I am God’s beloved and my life has meaning, right?

The apostle Paul once told his friends that those who seek to live into the blessings of God should turn their thoughts “to whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about^* these things. And keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me and the God of peace will be with you.”  (Philippians 4:8-9)

Towards the end of his life, he also advised those he loved to avoid being conformed to the habits and goals of this world:  be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern the will of God— what is is good and acceptable and mature – so that you can do it in your everyday lives.  Eugene Peterson’s reworking of Romans 12 is pure gold:

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

Insights

Well, in both of the lessons assigned for today, there is a similar theme that boils down to this: I am a beloved child of God – and that’s all that matters to the Lord.  In fact, it matters so much to God that the One who is Holy is committed to finding ways to heal and nourish us – make us whole – even when we are wounded, broken, afraid, shamed and alone.  Let me give you three particulars that underscore this point.

First, from the words of St. Paul who tells us that from the sacred perspective of God, there are NO distinctions between people regardless of what society would have us believe.  He writes that now “there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.”  What Paul was originally talking about here has to do with social class – not contemporary notions of ethnic equality or gender liberation – but spiritual equality among the various social classes of Jews who wanted to follow Jesus.  And while I believe that we can extrapolate a broader message of freedom and equality from Paul’s insight, we should be careful not to attribute 21^st century ideals upon 1^st century words.  That would be an anachronistic mistake and intellectual dishonest.

·       So let’s be clear:  in Paul’s world, to speak of someone of the Roman Empire as a Greek meant they were well-educated, civilized and a part of the in-group who followed “Hellenized culture, customs and ideals.” (Malina/Pech, A Social Science Commentary: Letters of Paul, p. 372)

·       In the first century, you see, there was no Greek nation – it had been destroyed – and all that was left were ethnic city and locations like Thessalonika or Macedonia.  That’s easy to forget as we often superimpose a contemporary context upon the ancient world, but it would be misleading, ok?

So what Paul seems to be talking about here has to do with the social and spiritual relationships between people of very different classes and perspectives who now find themselves in the same church:   there were the cultural and political insiders – the Greeks – who celebrated a lofty and sophisticated Hellenistic culture, and, there was everyone else – who in the binary analysis of the Mediterranean world were simply known as… barbarians.  To be Greek was to be civilized – and everyone else was an unsophisticated outsider. 

·      Are you still with me?   Have I been clear about this?  Paul isn’t talking about ethnicity or gender justice; he’s addressing social status within the church.

·      And the same social stratifications are applicable to the other two categories Paul addresses – men and women and free and slave – wherein one group wields power and status over the other who live at the bottom of the heap.  Do you hear what I’m trying to say here?

Inside the community of God’s loving grace, Paul was telling his friends, there can be NO social stratification:  there are no insiders and outsiders, no bosses or peasants, no beautiful people and slobs, no conservatives or liberals, no winners or losers – because EVERYONE here is a beloved child of God – and that is all that matters.  Paul wasn’t a social revolutionary.  He didn’t take on the Roman empire in a modern political sense, although you can see how once people who had been treated as dirt all their lives started to be honored and celebrated as beloved children of God in church might want to expand this blessing into the realm of social justice and political dignity, right?

So that’s one insight.  A second comes from the story of Jesus restoring to wholeness the young man who had been possessed by demons. Most of us in this time and culture don’t’ experience demons in the way they are described in the Bible and are really troubled and uncomfortable with these stories.  They sound superstitious and simple-minded.  But one writer put it like this:  “If we define “demons” as those forces which have captured us and prevented us from becoming what God intends us to be, we are as surrounded by – and even possessed by – as many demons as those whom Jesus encountered. Our demons can be of many kinds: mental illnesses, schizophrenia, paranoia, addictions, obsessions, destructive habits” (Michael Rogness, Working Preacher.org) and all the rest.  And if we look at the narrative of the story carefully, it becomes painfully contemporary:

·       The young man was totally cut off from his family, society and culture.  We was not only one of the “walking wounded” in a far away and, he was living in a graveyard like a zombies.

 

·      And his demons were destroying him – so much so that the young man no longer had any real identity and couldn’t even speak when Jesus came near him – it was the demons that recognized and named Jesus, not the walking dead.

Because they were Legion – more than 6,000 based upon the understanding of a Roman legion in Christ’s day – which is why Peterson’s calls the demons a MOB.  And the heart-breaking truth of this story is that this mob of wounds had robbed this child of God of his identity and name.  When Jesus speaks to the boy, he is unable to speak his own name.  He is “not Elijah, or Isaac, or John, or Frank, or Jo-Jo; he has become Legion…  completely defined by what assails him, by what robs him of joy and health, by what hinders him and keeps him bound, by all those things that keep him from experiencing life in its abundance.” (David Lohse, Working Preacher.org)

So what does Jesus do in this situation?  What happens to this child possessed by demons that restores him to his true identity as a beloved child of God?  Jesus heals him – casts out the demons – and restores this child to wholeness.  The word used in the Greek text is sozo that is sometimes translated as “saved” – other times as “healed” – but always could be rendered as “made whole,” too. 

·      So what distinctions do you make between being saved, healed and made whole?  They all have to do with being rescued from forces that cut us off from living as God’s beloved but each word is used differently, yes?

·      For example, has anyone ever asked you, “Have you been saved?”  What do they mean by this?  Usually there is a very narrow definition that has to do with making a doctrinal commitment to Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior, right?   

And while I am not at all uncomfortable with speaking about Jesus as Lord and Savior, what’s the catch or problem with this question? It’s all about determining who’s in and whose out, right?  It’s all about restricting God’s grace to the in-crowd – and that is fundamentally flawed because… we are ALL the beloved children of God – and that’s all that matters.  We are not insiders and outsiders – saved and unsaved – saints and sinners.  That’s why I love what one Greek Orthodox monk replied when asked by a young American fundamentalist if he had accepted Jesus Christ as his personal Lord and Savior:  “Personal” said the monk?  “Oh no, I prefer to share him with everyone.”

The words we use to speak of holy things matter.  That’s why in these demon stories I think it makes more sense to talk about being restored to wholeness rather than saved.  Because then, if you are anything like me, you too can connect with the deeper truth of this story.  You may not have been possessed by a demon in an antiquated or superstitious sense, but I bet dollars to donut holes that you do know something about being made whole by God’s love. 

·      If you have been restored from an addiction – if you have been forgiven a betrayal – if you have found meaning by sharing compassion or doing justice – you, too have been made whole so that you can live as a beloved child of God whose life has meaning.

·      In fact, you could even say that you were born again and mean it – not in a narrow or judgmental sense – but rather as somebody who was lost but now is found, was blind but now you see, right?

And the third insight is simply this:  after the child is restored and made whole – after the disciples share both clothing and food with the young man and Jesus tells him to go back home and make things right there – Jesus sails away.  Now think about that for a minute:  Jesus makes the effort to travel into Gentile country and then after bringing wholeness to this wounded child he turns right around and sails away.  Why?  Why doesn’t he spread a little more love and grace around?  Why does the story end with his rapid departure?  One wise old preacher said

All he did in the land of the Gerasenes was heal this one possessed man. Which might mean that Jesus’ whole detour into this strange and unfamiliar place was to do just that: to rid this one man of his demons and transform him from being Legion to being a human being again, a human being who was also a beloved child of God.

The ministry of Jesus – his life, death, resurrection and ascension – shows us something of the character of God - it is about restoration and wholeness.  And what does God calls us?  Beloved.

Conclusion

Our God is not about insiders and outsiders – setting up divisive loyalty tests to judge who is worthy to receive grace and mercy – that is wicked and destructive.  No, our God comes to us to restore us to wholeness – and the good news for today is that:

Jesus is still crossing boundaries to do just that. He is still coming into the strange and unfamiliar world of our failure-ridden and lack-driven lives to cast out our demons. Jesus says to us again and again that we are more than the sum total of our past failures and disappoints. We are God’s beloved children, forgiven of our sins, healed of our disappointments and blessed with an open future. (Lohse)

So, beloved, let those who have ears to hear… hear.

 

credits

1) fatherbob-crumbs.blogspot.com

2) sweet oxygen @ michellepower.tumblr.com

3) Into the wilderness @ pastorblog.cumcdebary.org

4) www.fileschapel.com

Starting work on my sabbatical in 2015...

So I am starting to construct a professional sabbatical for 2015.  There is a grant application to work on in concert with the congregation - and I have started to identify some of the people from church I want to help me make this work best for all involved.  Here's the broad outline as defined by the Lily Foundation for Clergy Renewal.  A sabbatical is intended to be a way to:

Strengthen Christian congregations by providing an opportunity for pastors to step away briefly from the persistent obligations of daily parish life and to engage in a period of renewal and reflection. Renewal periods are not vacations, but times for intentional exploration and reflection, for drinking again from God's life-giving waters, for regaining enthusiasm and creativity for ministry.
Both renewal and reflection are essential in this line of work and especially so in a culture that is simultaneously overly busy and constantly in pursuit of bottom line metrics. It is all too easy to get caught up in the rush and lose the vision that is essential for ministry. Eugene Peterson once put it like this:  "Century after century, Christians continue to take certain persons in their communities, set them apart and say to them, 'You are our shepherd.  Lead us to Christlikeness.'"  He goes on:

We want yo to be responsible for saying and acting among us what we believe about God and kingdom and gospel. We believe that the Holy Spirit is among us and within us... We believe that the invisible is more important than the visible at any one single moment and in any single event that we choose to examine. We believe that everything - especially everything that looks like wreckage - is material God is using to make a praising life.  We believe this, but we don't see it... so we have ordained you to this ministry and we want you to stick to it. (The Contemplative Pastor)

In order to stay focused and grounded, our tradition has created times set aside for renewal and reflection.  Part of the renewal involves rest - not like in a vacation - but a deeper change in the rhythm of each day.  Sleep, prayer, study and exercise are a key part of the renewal aspect of a pastor's sabbatical.  One part of my proposal, therefore, will be to get away - far away - from my routine and take up a three month residence in Montreal.  On both the front and back end of this time I would be in a monastic setting as well as travel to a few centers that practice jazz liturgy.

The second part of the sabbatical involves renewal.  It is my plan to spend time each day in study and prayer re: the liturgy of the hours and the practice of jazz vespers.  Another part of each day would be study and practice on the upright bass.  Not only would this nourish another part of my brain, it would bring a deep sense of rest to my soul. 

My council has endorsed the broad outline of this proposal.  Over the summer we will study and pray to understand how we might prepare for this in the best way and then complete our formal proposal by Advent.  In the meantime, I am using this summer to retool my music reading/theory skills and find a local teacher to take me deeper in my appreciation and playing of the upright bass. 

My hope and prayer is that in addition to the rest, renewal and reflection of the sabbatical, I will have also written four liturgies to honor God's presence in each of the four seasons in a "jazz vespers" style.  We would then secure a top notch group of local jazz musicians and share it with the wider community.  There is much, much more to do in preparation, but that's the broad outline.  It is going to be a fun 18 months getting ready.

Have you ever kissed a...

From time to time I have to do some crazy things as pastor.  In 31+ years, I have...

... coordinated hospice care - and meals - for my former secretary back in Cleveland when other options didn't work.

... cleaned-out a reverse colostomy wound twice a day for 6 weeks when  other members family couldn't stomach the assignment.

... offered prayer by the hospital bedside as a beloved member bled to death from post-surgical complications.

... sorted through clothes thrown out in the rain after a man's wife killed herself, he was arrested - but then released - as a possible suspect; during the 24 hours he was incarcerated, however, the landlord tossed him out of the apartment.

... walked with people and held them by the hand in order to enter various addiction treatment centers.

... baptized babies in incubators before they died 2 hours later.

... made a pastoral call one rainy night only to find a loaded revolver on the sofa while I was cleaning off the clutter in search of a place to sit.

... served as Vice-President of the Cleveland Board of Education.

... gone dancing in after-hours gay clubs to learn about what happens after the lights go out in a world unknown to me as a straight, white guy.

... traveled to Russia and Eastern Europe - and Turkey - and the UK on a variety of peace missions.

And now, today, I finally had to kiss a sheep to settle a sacred bet.  We were hoping to raise $240 dollars for Heifer International but instead we raised over $500.  Apparently I agreed to kiss the sheep we would purchase if we hit the goal... so today instead of 2 it was 4.  And I was glad to do it.  We also gave out Bibles to our children, I got to play the upright bass for the first time in public and we shared prayers of encouragement and grace with one another.  Another first...

It acts like love...

My blogging friend, Blue Eyed Ennis, posted this a few days ago and it totally blew me away. (Please check her out @ http://blueeyedennis-siempre.blogspot.com/)  On so many levels this poem/prayer rings true:   

 

It Acts Like Love

It acts like love---music, it reaches toward the face, touches it, and tries to let you know
His promise: that all will be okay.

It acts like love---music, and
tells the feet, "You do not have to be so burdened."

My body is covered with wounds
this world made,

but I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said,

"Could you also kiss the hand that caused
each scar,

for you will not find me until
you do."

It does that---music---helps us
to forgive.
=

Rabia of Basra (c.717-801),

a female central figure in the Sufi tradition

 

De bonnes vacances avec le jazz... (vacation with jazz)

In ten days we leave for the 34th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montreal.  It is certainly one of my most favorite things to share with Dianne. Last year we were there for her 50th and my 60th birthdays.  This year, one of our daughters and her husband will join us for three days.  We have separate flats in the city just a block from another favorite place:  Marche Jean Talon - a wonderful city block filled with fresh produce vendors, assorted boulangeries et les boucheries (bakeries and butchers) as well as flowers, street musicians and a whole lot more.

Being in this groove - in this city - sets my soul to rest in unique ways: it is simultaneously sensual and spiritual, invigorating and restful, intellectually creative and emotionally hospitable.  Of course, I am on holiday - de bonnes vacances - and 500 miles away from my quotidian responsibilities.  I am not so naive or ungrounded to pretend this isn't a big piece of the puzzle.  And, as I have discovered over the past 6 years of exploring this place, something else is going on, too.

+ For one thing, I truly love the French Canadian aesthetic.  It is edgy and beautiful at the same time.  It is cautiously bi-lingual, too.  I am fascinated by the way young Quebecers flawlessly flip between French and English with perfect accents in both tongues.  As a life-long genre-bender I am energized by the challenge of finding my place in this swirl of possibilities.  In some ways, of course, I am a total outsider - and this is liberating and humbling.  It forces me to think and work harder about being present.  It asks that I listen more than speak - observe more than share - study more than conclude.  And at 61 I need this kind of vitality lest I slip all too easily into my well-tested role of old guy-pastor-teacher-father-husband-musician.  My heart wants to keep learning the Lord's NEW song.
+ Another thing that intrigues me is this city's fierce dedication to the arts.  The creative realm is everywhere and in all types of settings: free and costly - public and private - entertaining and stimulating.  Unlike many cities I have visited and/or lived in, Montreal seems intentionally family friendly so it is not unusual to see many children in museums, open air concerts and galleries. Public transportation is accessible, fast, inexpensive and safe. There are vast public gathering places - both natural and created - that invite people to slow down and watch, savor or stroll.  And let's not forget the two or three cafes on every corner, too.

In his book, Resurrection City, Peter Goodwin Hetzel writes about being in a small Greenwich Village jazz club that mixes a reverence for the past with a commitment to creative innovation.  "Jazz is music, multiplicity and magic all in one. It is a multilayered experience of the musical dimension of our humanity. It touches the blue note in our heart, but offers a new way of experiencing life: life together. Making music together gives each musician the chance to sing his or her song. Listening to others' songs propels us to sing our own. May our life song bear witness to the jazzlike Creator, whose Spirit continues to hover over, under, in and above creation. Jazz energies us to move with the Spirit."

That's what being in Montreal feels like to me.  I am currently working on a proposal for a grant that would allow me to spend 3+ months in Montreal for my sabbatical studying jazz liturgy and upright bass.  My goal is to rest and reflect, hone my musicality and create four liturgies celebrating the sacred in each season. I love the way Bruce Ellis Benson puts it in his Liturgy as a Way of Life:

If God is a creator, and we are made in God's image, we are likewise intended to be creative... Of course, we are not "creators" in the strong sense that God is: only God can bring forth creation from nothing... But, still, we have the God-given ability to create - or better yet, improvise - which is both a great honor and a mandate from God.  Just as we are called to "be fruitful and multiply," so are we called to be creative in all that we do... As creators, we are called to a wonderfully meaningful life.  We are not called to live in rote obedience to God; we are called to be creative in all we do - as opposed to living a life of sheer industrial labor.

My musical/liturgical sabbatical will be grounded in praying the hours - the monastic way of giving shape and order to time - with particular attention given to vespers.  There is a long jazz tradition of being playful with this early evening office.  My hope involves saturating myself in the jazz vespers tradition and then seeing where the Spirit leads re: creating four new/old expressions to be shared in our home congregation.  In the editor's note to Benson's book, James K.A. Smith writes:

Over the past couple of centuries, the church's worship - perhaps especially in Protestant evangelicalism - has unwittingly mimicked the rationalism and dualism of modernity. Assume with Descartes that humans are primarily "thinking things," worship has been centered on didactic teaching.  A few songs merely function as a preface to a long sermon, the goal of which is the dissemination of information to brains-on-a-stick, sitting on their hands. The body has no role in such worship; it is worship for the proverbial brains-in-a vat of philosophical fame. And because the body has no essential role in such worship, there is no place for the arts, which are inherently sensible - even sensual... In rationalist worship spaces, even the wallpaper is didactic...

So what's lost in modernity and our unwitting adoption of rationalism is just the sort of sacramentality that under girds Christian affirmation of the body - the same sensibility that values the arts. The metaphysics of modernity flattens the world, reducing human persons to information processors. And if we by into this, we will worship accordingly. The didactic will trump the affective; the intellect will crowd out the imaginative; the body will be present only as a vehicle to get the mind in the pew. Welcome to the cathedral of Descartes.

And so we will soon "retreat" to Montreal - for jazz, for prayer, for renewal, for a sensual and sensible encounter with the Spirit.

credits:
1) Montreal Jazz Festival by Carole Spandau @ http://fineartamerica.com/ featured/montreal-jazz-festival-carole-spandau.html
2) Poster:  Montreal Jazz Festival 2009
3) Crowd at Montreal Jazz Festival
4) www.johnabbott.qc.ca

10 Worst Love Songs...

So this is what happens when I get 2 hours sleep and then have to go pick up Dianne at 5:45 am on a Saturday morning:  my mind starts to melt!  After bringing her back from an "inconclusive" night at the sleep clinic - and an early morning breakfast at our favorite local diner (where I entertained her sleep deprived brain by "interpreting" the deeper meaning behind the weekly church listings my colleagues post in our local paper) - I found myself starting to sing the world's WORST love songs. 

That's when it hit me:  "What a great idea for Thanksgiving Eve, yeah?  A short but very intense medley of some of these stinkers..."  You might have your own and I would love to include them.

+ Paul Anka:  Having My Baby

+ Rupert Holmes: Pina Colada

+ Sammy Johns:  Chevy Van

+ Air Supply:  The One You Love

+ Bobby Goldsboro:  Honey

+ Four Seasons:  Working My Way Back to You Babe

+ Minnie Ripperton:  Lovin' You

+ Starland Vocal Band:  Afternoon Delight

+ The Byrds:  Chestnut Mare

+ JaneBirkin et Serge Gainsbourg:  Je T'aime

Angels in the architecture...

I see connections to the holy everywhere: in architecture, history, music, movies, television, nature, love, hate, war, animals. Everywhere. Maybe I invent the connections, maybe I try to hard, maybe I trust the truth of the Incarnation and the mystery of the Trinity too much.  But like St. Paul Simon said:

A man walks down the street - it's a street in a strange world
Maybe it's the Third World - maybe it's his first time around
He doesn't speak the language - he holds no currency
He is a foreign man - he is surrounded by the sound
The sound: cattle in the marketplace, scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around he sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity he says Amen! and Hallelujah!
Who knows, right?  But if the truth of the Sacred is somehow intimately united as Three-in-One and One-and-Three and the presence of the Divine has truly taken up residence within and among us - sharing truth and grace beyond any separation of the human and the holy - then all these connections fit by faith and I really do hear the whole creation crying: Glory!  Psalm 85 resonates for me:

Show us your steadfast love, O Lord,
and grant us your salvation.
Let me hear what God the Lord will speak,
for he will speak peace to his people,
to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts.
Surely his salvation is at hand for those who fear him,
that his glory may dwell in our land.
Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet;
righteousness and peace will kiss each other.
Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,
and righteousness will look down from the sky.

I mention this "mystical sense of God's unity" because of another series of connections l have been thinking about of late.  As noted earlier this week, my Sunday School teacher from high school days was in town to visit and talk about my doctoral dissertation.  I had sent it to him five years ago but time and circumstances kept him from reading it until recently.  He told me that at first the task of reading this monster was just too daunting, but when he picked it up by accident years later ,it spoke to him in new and exciting ways. I was grateful.

During our four hour conversation he observed that I often made connections in my writing between songs and the Spirit of the Lord that he doesn't get:  How, for example, is Eric Clapton's guitar solo at the end of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" a prayer?  This isn't the first time people have asked me to explain the connections I discern when it comes to music, so I tried to cut to the chase. I believe that something is "spiritual and prayerful" if it:  a) deepens our intimacy with the holy; b) strengthens our union with God's character (and for me this is revealed in both Scripture and Christ Jesus); and also c) increases our awareness of truth, beauty and goodness in the world. 

"So when it comes to Clapton's solo, I continued, "on both the original recording in 1968 and the much more recent concert shared just one year after Harrison's death, I hear the guitar weeping like God weeps over human suffering.  This is a lament - a holy blues like some of the Psalms - that both honor the human experience and challenge us to trust beyond our sin."  After we left time for that to sink in, he said, "Makes a lot of sense to me - so why don't you include more such explications in this book - it will really help others see what is just below the surface?"  And so, yet another revision seems to be in order in the near future, yes? (But who knows when...)
Well, as I was thinking about this call to articulate the sacred connections I feel more clearly, I went to this month's church council meeting.  It is a faithful and fun group of servants striving to make wise and compassionate choices for our community of faith.  And one of these decisions involves how we address prioritizing our limited resources in light of our historic building that demands tons of repairs.  We recently had a full day retreat and found consensus about how to live into our mission while making the timely repairs that neither derails or compromises our momentum. As the various leaders rehearsed their insights from our retreat, it struck me that this isn't the first time I've been down this road.

Back in Saginaw, MI - in my first church - one of my charges was to resource the outreach ministry.  Each year, in addition to encouraging congregational participation in a variety of acts of charity, this ministry distributed close to $20K to local benevolences.  The chair, let's call him Art, was a regional business leader in one of the banks.  He was very successful in his realm and also seriously overweight, generally unhealthy, mostly cranky, unhappy, tired and often sad over family issues.  Regularly he would say to me who in all seriousness that "my definition of a good committee is one where I am the chair, one person is sick and can't come and the other forgot about the meeting."  His polar opposite, let's call him Dick, was a public school teacher who had retired after 30 years of service. He was reasonably healthy, often witty, spent lots of time volunteering and caring for his grandchildren and was fun to be with in nearly every setting.

Every month these two older white men carried on an unresolved public dialogue designed to influence the other members of our committee.  Art spoke about his business acumen - which was considerable - and how that should shape our decisions about what local charities should get our resources.  Dick always listened to Art carefully, accepted his second in command assignment patiently and then insisted that our mission was different from being an appendage of business.  Our mission, he said time and again, was to care for the hungry, clothe the naked and advance the values of Jesus and God's kingdom.  And, as happened more often in those days than now, a tense compromise was usually achieved that mixed the interests of the local business community with the calling of Christ's justice in our small city.

Now here's the connection:  as these dialogues would ripen, Art always threatened to hold the church hostage by withholding his pledge if things did not go his way; Dick, with much less money to throw around, never mentioned his tithe nor conditioned his participation in the church to anything our committee decided.  And that made a life-long impact on me as a young clergy person - one that helped me see how the love of money can corrupt even good souls - and how our commitments to God's grace and justice must never be bought or sold to the highest bidder.  I also couldn't help but notice the congruity between one man's openness to cultivating the fruits of the Holy Spirit - Galatians 5 - that Paul describes like this and the other man's sorrow:

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, competing against one another, envying one another.

One servant of God in a position of secular power usually demanded that the group follow his opinion and experience; another would call upon the testimony of Scripture and ask us to follow Jesus.  One man looked and seemed miserable most of the year; the other was at peace with himself and the world.  As a young minister, it quickly became clear to me that the powerful ones were used to getting their way - and I certainly felt pressured to go along to get along - but more often than not I had to trust and honor Dick's more gentle and humble way.  "Seek ye first the kingdom of God..."
When I was in ministry in Tucson, something similar happened when one of the local millionaire's threatened to pull their pledge if I didn't agree to a building project that they desired.  Having learned my lesson in Saginaw, all I could say was:  "You are free to do whatever you want with your resources - even stop sharing them if yo see fit - but we are going to be faithful to both the values of Christ's kingdom AND good, democratic process. I won't be held hostage..."  Sadly, they eventually pulled their money but the church continued without being compromised or bullied into submission.

And now nearly 30 years later I find myself thinking: how did the old preacher put it in the book of Ecclesiastes?  "There is nothing new under the sun." So, once again, as we wrestle with hard financial choices, we will try to look towards God's kingdom values and the fruit of the Holy Spirit as we move into the future. I really do believe - and sometimes even see - angels in the architecture - and can't help but singing:  Hallelujah!