I just finished checking in with this year's TGE 2010 performers and have started to recruit/invite folks into the annual "ad ho gospel choir." It is going to be a BLAST. We will start rehearsals in two weeks on a lot of great old country gospel tunes like this...
Some treats will include a new gospel song from our own Brian Staubach and the return of great friends like Andy Kelly, Linda Worster and Bert Marshall. I am also delighted that two new performers - but dear souls - are joining the fun: Graham Sturtz and Hal Lefferts. I had the privilege of celebrating Graham's wedding a few years back.
And Hal - well we've known one another on and off since junior high school - and have played music with each other back in the day. He was the lead guitarist in our high school garage band known as "Creepin' Jesus" - and played some acoustic gigs together a few years later, too. It will be a very sweet reunion. (BTW you should check out his totally excellent radio show - WTF - @ robinhoodradio.com/schedule.php)
I am hoping a good size "ad hoc gospel choir" will turn up for the group tunes - trying to keep that tradition alive, too. And as I did some research into our "thanksgiving for North American musicians who have gone on to the big band in the sky" we'll remember Solomon Burke, Kate McGarrigle, Leana Horn and some of our brothers in both the Temptation and the Isley Brothers.
So... come on down and support our music and raising funds for emergency fuel in the Berkshires this winter. The fun starts at 7 pm on Thanksgiving Eve: Wednesday, November 24th at First Church on Park Square. Here's a clip from last year...
It was recently brought to my attention (again) that there are some obvious differences and disagreements in how some of us understand suffering - and these differences are both important and perplexing. I tend to stand in the tradition that sees suffering like the Princeton Educational Dictionary defines it:
+ agony: a state of acute pain
+ misery resulting from affliction
+ distress: psychological suffering
+ troubled by pain or loss
+ feelings of mental or physical pain
+ miserable: very unhappy
In this definition suffering = pain = an inevitable part of life that can either be avoided, embraced or exploited. Consequently, the challenge for those who follow Jesus becomes what are we going to do with this inevitable pain of living? Eugene Peterson suggests that Christianity - at its best - has historically offered the world a unique way of embracing and learning from the inevitable pain of life in Jesus Christ - which has created two distinct spiritualities.
One has come to embrace suffering as a fetish - a conscious choice that brings more pain upon one's self - in order to grow more like Christ. Think of the beloved Pope John Paul II and his flagelism - or the Irish monks standing in freezing water on one leg - or the Jansenists or evangelicals having themselves nailed to the Cross on Good Friday. This spirituality is attracted to suffering and pain because it causes the individual to grow closer to Christ and his agony.
To my way of thinking, this is a horrific twisting of the Cross and a sado-masochistic spirituality that bears no relationship to Jesus. Mel Gibson's film, "The Passion of the Christ" comes to mind with its obsession on the agony as a way into God's presence. Perhaps some in our overly antiseptic and pain phobic culture found the gore of Gibson's vision edifying as a corrective to the way so many numb themselves, but I found it ghastly and heretical.
Which suggests a whole other take on suffering: it is one of the mysterious portals embedded in our everyday living that can bring us into a deeper faith. It is not automatic by any means, nor is the pain a choice. Rather, like the Serenity Prayer, this spirituality of suffering suggests that because the pain of life in inevitable, we must either learn to "accept" it like Christ or else we will come to avoid suffering it in unhealthy ways or else become addicted to it. Acceptance is the only path that is liberating and of the Lord.
In this approach, the Cross speaks to us of the harshness of our lives - even the brutal cruelty - while also pointing to the trust that God is not only fully present with us in our pain but invites us to go through it with dignity and grace. The Cross speaks of our experience of God's absence, too, as well as the maturation of faith that learns how to trust beyond the evidence. No longer is faith dependent upon immediate pay offs - this is childish and simplistic - when I was a child, I acted like a child... but now that I have grown up, I have put childish things away knowing... that for now we can only see as through a glass darkly, yes? Later we shall see face to face, but not right now.
Please understand that I am NOT saying that God causes our pain so that we can mature nor that God wants us to suffer. Too often our traditional but legalistic Reformed and Roman Catholic spiritualities of suffering obscure the mystery of acceptance by teaching that suffering is our way of entering into intimacy with God. This denies the bounty of joy and feasting and grace in abundance that guides and shapes MOSTof the way of Jesus. It also encourages people of faith to look for ways of suffering to mature as followers of Christ. No wonder, Jung responded to this notion in his reflection on Job by saying, "If this is the nature of God, who needs Satan!"
I believe that the mystery of suffering is better discerned as I Peter 2: 21 puts it: This is the kind of life you've been invited into, the kind of life Christ lived. He suffered everything that came his way so that you would know that it could be done - and also know how to do it, too, step by step. As we are embraced by Christ's grace - and enter into faith/trust more intentionally - we are given way to both accept (as in the Serenity Prayer) the pain/suffering of our lives and the suffering of the world and use it go grow deeper in compassion and trust.
Another favorite writer, Frederick Buechner, has observed: You can reconcile any of the following two propositions with each other, but you cannot reconcile all three: God is all-powerful, God is all-good, terrible things happen. The problem of evil (and I would add suffering) is perhaps the greatest single problem for religious faith.
There have been numerous theological and philosophical attempts to solve it, but when it comes down to the reality... none of them are worth much. When a child is raped and murdered, the parents are not apt to take much comfort from the explanation (better than most) that since God wants man to love him, man must be free to love or not to love and thus free to rape and murder a child if he takes a notion to.
Christian Science solves the problem of evil by saying that it does not exist except as an illusion of the mortal mind. (I would note that the same is true for various New Age spiritualities.) Buddhism solves it in terms of reincarnation and an inexorable law of cause and effect whereby the raped child is merely reaping the consequences of evil deeds it committed in another life.
Christianity, on the other hand, ultimately offers no theoretical solution at all. It merely points to the cross and says that, practically speaking, there is no evil or suffering so dark and so obscene - not even this - but that God can turn to good.
I have experienced this perspective to be true... what do you think?
I prayed with a young man today for healing - specifically healing from the bondage of evil spirits - which doesn't happen a lot in my ministry. He is from Congo - more fluent in French than English - which also took some careful listening. As he told his story, it became clear that his concerns are real and deep and have wounded him for a long time. He also wanted to grow in faith and prayer. Two thoughts kept coming to me after our meeting:
+ First, in affluent Western culture I rarely am asked to pray for healing. When I was doing urban ministry in Cleveland - particularly with Puerto Rican gang kids - we prayed a LOT for healing. And for protection from evil spirits, too. I also was asked to do an exorcism from a house the family was certain was "possessed" (however you understand that term.) So I did - I felt the chilling coldness of evil in that house - and experienced the fear that seemed to be alive within its walls. And while I don't even pretend to understand the totality of it all, I also know that evil is real and palpable and I respect it profoundly.
I was grateful that this young man felt safe enough to come to me for these prayers because there is so much that divides us: race, culture, language and history. But he knows that in Christ we worship a God of grace and healing and that God is bigger than all our differences. After prayer, I gave him a very basic daily prayer guide and told him to meet with me again next week after he had started to pray each morning and evening.
+ And second I am very humbled by all of this - and also out of my element. That is one of the very real challenges of multi-cultural ministry, yes? Not only do I sense a pastoral responsibility to my young friend, but a need to learn ways to both help and better understand him. Any one know of something good to read about the Christian culture of the Congo? (Your ideas and prayers are valued!)
And so it goes: like my old buddy Ray Swartzback - my urban ministry mentor - used to say: this ministry is an emotional roller coaster that takes you from extreme highs to profound lows all in the same day. He also used to tell me that there was a place for middle class white guys who were willing to be God's servants even in places that are foreign to us because ours is a God who builds bridges in love. Lord, I believe... and help my disbelief.
I learned more about playing bass in a jazz ensemble during today's lesson than I've been able to pick up all by myself during the past 40 years. To be sure, I've been practising, studying, thinking, listening and playing more jazz, too - and that helps. What's more I know I have an organic feel for the groove...
... but man playing from the charts this afternoon - listening to Andy's explanation of triads and playing a 5th or 9th in the walking bass pattern - and then having to stand and deliver was awesome. Humbling, for sure, but so much fun that I can't wait to practice some more. We worked a little on this tune - a ballad I hope Di will be singing with us - that is sooooo smooth and sultry.
Then we worked on a bossa nova groove for "Black Orpheus." Damn, I've always wanted to play this stuff and never had a clue how to make it work. Well, now I know, but that means I have to deliver on it, too. Oh sweet challenge: what a blessing you are.
As the fall matures - and church activities become more intense - I was delighted to find this clip filmed at our local Dottie's Coffee Lounge by Mayor James Ruberto. He's talking about the arts renewal that has been a core commitment of his administration...
In a week full of Jazz Festival activities - including a city proclamation for "Coming Out" Day - this is a good reminder of what can happen when people explore their best selves - rather than the rage and fear of the tea-baggers, et al. And while everyone has blind spots and
NOTE:My notes for this week's worship, October 17th, 2010 using the Biblical texts of II Peter 3:14-4:5 and Luke 18: 1-8. Join us at 10:30 am if you are in town, please!
Once again the words of Jesus we have been asked to consider for today are not only perplexing and odd, they are worrisome and upsetting: Why is Jesus comparing the Lord of love to an unfair and capricious judge who strings along the hopes and needs of a powerless widow? Doesn’t that seem cruel and capricious?
• And what in the world is Jesus getting at when he asks his disciples, “But how much persistent faith will the Son of Man find on the earth when he returns?” What’s up with that?
• To me, this is a distressing story at first: puzzling, annoying and impenetrable. But there is another layer here, too, a story of grace and hope and blessing, that takes a little time and insight to discern if we’re willing to go beyond the obvious.
In fact, the spiritual wisdom of this parable is like a Zen koan or riddle: if you take the time to tease out its beauty, the very process itself reveals to you its truth – and teaches you something about authentic and persistent faith. And I want to explore this with you because as North Americans of the 21st century, most of us aren’t comfortable – let alone well-trained – in the way of persistent faith.
Earlier this week, on Columbus Day, Dianne and I were lounging about in the morning reading the New York Times and drinking tea as we like to do. It was a stunning autumn day and we were soaking up the sun and the beauty, but the news was so sad and cruel it was heart-breaking.
• In the gubernatorial race in New York, one of the candidates saw fit to spew his hatred, ignorance and stupidity about homo-sexuality in such a way as to make the word Neanderthal seem too kind – especially after the recent suicides of young gay men and the recent rash of beatings and torture.
• Another story spoke of the on-going – and growing – suicide rate among our active duty soldiers only to be followed by a description of the toxic sludge disaster in Hungary.
It was a gloomy and heartrending report on the state of the world. And that’s when the words of II Timothy hit me hard. I’d been thinking about them in preparation for writing – along with the vexing parable in Luke – but nothing had really taken shape or form yet.
Don’t let it faze you. Stick with what you learned and believed, sure of the integrity of your teachers…I can't impress this on you too strongly. God is looking over your shoulder… so proclaim the Message with intensity; keep on your watch. Challenge, warn, and urge your people. Don't ever quit. You're going to find that there will be times when people will have no stomach for solid teaching, but will fill up on spiritual junk food—catchy opinions that tickle their fancy. They'll turn their backs on truth and chase mirages. But you—keep your eye on what you're doing; accept the hard times along with the good; keep the Message alive; do a thorough job as God's servant.
Did you hear that? “Keep your eye on the prize – accept the hard times along with the good – and keep the Message alive.” What Paul is telling Timothy – and what Jesus is telling his disciples – is that people of faith have a different way of looking at the world than the ordinary citizen. Call it a Christian worldview, if you like, because it asks us to go beyond the obvious in our lives and the events of the world that we might learn to see everything through the eyes of faith: beauty as well as suffering, pain as well as joy.
• Today’s psalm, for example, begins: I lift up my eyes unto the hills, from where is my help to come? Many people – without the eyes of faith – will tell you that this psalm suggests that our help comes from the hills. I’ve heard people say that when they look at the hills and mountains they feel a calming reassurance of God’s love.
• Well that is all well and good but it isn’t what the Psalmist is saying. Not at all. You see, it is the second line of Psalm 121 that gives the faithful answer to the question: where does my help come from? It comes from the Lord my God, the maker of heaven and earth. Not the mountains or the hills – or the lakes or the valleys either; they are part of the beautiful bounty of God’s love. But let us be clear: our help comes from the Lord.
And cultivating a Christian worldview is essential to keeping our eyes on the prize in hard times as well as good ones. When I got home after worship last week I realized that I left out of my message an essential truth.
In order to keep things moving and be respectful of your time, I cut out my whole discussion of Jesus and the waters of Babylon – and in retrospect I see that this was a mistake. You see, I believe that learning how to live faithfully by the waters of Babylon is an integral part of the Jesus life. It gives us the ability to see beyond the obvious and trust beyond the limits of our feelings. It is, in fact, part of what it means to be counter cultural in a way that matters. “We live in a culture,” writes Eugene Peterson, “that doesn’t know how to suffer.”
We grow up thinking that if we are good we won’t suffer; or that if we raise our standard of living sufficiently we won’t suffer; or that if we acquire an education we will be smart enough not to suffer. And should suffering rudely intrude upon our lives anyway, we call for anesthesia. Anesthesia, which is most useful on occasions of surgery, is most harmful in matters of the soul. St. Peter got it right when he told us: This is the kind of life you’ve been invited into – the kind of life that Christ lived – he suffered everything that came his way so that you would know that it could be done – and also know how to do it, step by step. (I Peter 2: 21)
That’s the first insight for this morning: somewhere along the way, the North American Christian community of faith forgot that learning how to suffer is a part of the Jesus life. We much prefer to hear about the gospel of prosperity or some pop psycho-babble about self-esteem than learning from the Cross. And while I believe that joy is JUSTas powerful and important a sacred teacher suffering, if we emphasize only one without the other, we are NOT nourishing the Christian worldview. That’s what Paul was reminding young Timothy:
Stick with what you learned and believed, sure of the integrity of your teachers—why, you took in the sacred Scriptures with your mother's milk! Remember: there will be times when people will have no stomach for solid teaching, but will fill up on spiritual junk food—catchy opinions that tickle their fancy. They'll turn their backs on truth and chase mirages. But you—keep your eye on what you're doing; accept the hard times along with the good; keep the Message alive; do a thorough job as God's servant.
And here is where that troubling story of today’s widow and the judge begins to become helpful. For you see, the point is NOT about “badgering God with our incessant ‘to-do’ requests and requisitions” – this is NOT a story about our gimme lists – but rather a reminder of both God’s grace and our need for training. Consider what we learn about living and seeing by faith from the widow. One scholar put it like this: “Women’s behavior was extremely limited in ancient times – much like the women of Afghanistan during the recent Taliban oppression.” In Christ’ day: unmarried women were not allowed to leave the home of their father.
• Married women were not allowed to leave the house of their husband. More often than not, women were restricted to roles of little or no authority.
• They could not testify in court, they could not appear in public venues, they were not allowed to talk to strangers. And they had to be doubly veiled when they left their homes.
So what are we to make of the widow in our story who not only kept after the crooked judge – going out into the public daily against social convention – but who also demanded justice like a man? In every way we might imagine, she was constrained. Some preachers have said that “she could only cry out to the judge unofficially. Perhaps she called to him as he passed her way on his way to the city gates to judge the disputes and charges of the men in the marketplace for the day.” (Peter Woods, http://www.thelisteninghermit.wordpress.com/)
We know that the word for “widow” in Hebrew means “the silent one” or the “one unable to speak for herself.” (Kate Huey, http://www.ucc.org/ So what does it mean that she not only found her voice, but kept speaking up for herself? What’s going on here? Could it be an upside-down reminder that this woman was well-versed in living by faith? The Hebrew Scriptures are ripe with reminders that God holds a tender place in the sacred heart for widows, orphans and all who are without voice. She obviously trusted the way of God: despite the evidence, the limitations of her culture and even her own feelings this woman models persistent faith. She won’t quit not only because she has experienced something of God’s grace within her heart but also because she knows that suffering goes with the territory.
Suffering is a part of faithful living – not the whole story – but an integral part to be sure. The second insight for today is that living by faith rejects the “quick fix, romantic and Utopian obsessions of our culture that always expect our relationships with God to be fulfilling” in ways we can comprehend. (Peter Woods, ibid) Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want or even expect, right? Much of life, in other words, is lived by the waters of Babylon watching and waiting in uncertainty. So what are we supposed to do if this is true? How are we to be faithful and joyful people even by the waters of Babylon?
Both the words from Timothy and Luke give us a third clue:
There's nothing like the written Word of God for showing you the way to salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. Every part of Scripture is God-breathed and useful one way or another—showing us truth, exposing our rebellion, correcting our mistakes, training us to live God's way. Through the Word we are put together and shaped up for the tasks God has for us.
It is clear to me that the widow not only knew the heart of God’s love through her connection to the Hebrew Bible, but she also was well practiced in prayer. She knew how to wait. She knew how to make a life beyond the obvious. That’s something else that has been misplaced in our culture, too: taking time to learn and reflect on God’s counter cultural vision. You see, the widow did not discover God’s grace and presence beyond the injustice of her life by accident. Kate Huey, one of the finest preachers in the United Church of Christ today, gives us some perspective through the story of a social activist from Myanmar by the name of Ma Thida:
This writer and physician was held in solitary confinement for six years after she documented the abuses of her government. When a BBC reporter asked how she survived those long years of suffering and waiting she said: “First I turned to books for they are like vitamins to a prisoner. And then I turned to prayer and meditation… as a Buddhist sometimes I meditated for 18-20 hours a day.” Can you imagine that?
Another great American preacher and writer, Barbara Brown Taylor, once noted that “most people pray like they brushed their teeth – once in the morning and once at night and only as a part of their spiritual hygiene program.” Not persistently – not vigorously – not with the assurance that God would be there regardless of their feelings or the evidence.
Taking in the word of God in scripture and being prayerful have always been the foundation for living with joy even by the waters of Babylon. And sadly this has either been forgotten or forsaken by many in the Church of Jesus Christ. Once again I return to Eugene Peterson:
Despite – or could it be because of? – our vaunted affluence and learning, we men and women in North America seem for the most part to be scandalously ignorant with regard to human suffering. More scandalous still, a great many Christians are currently complicitous in this ignorance. Christians right and left, Christians whose identifying symbol is the cross of Jesus and whose vocation is determined by that same cross are abandoning it for careers in anesthesiology. And this is a scandal, you see, because Christians used to be the world’s experts on suffering. And the world deserves to know what we know about suffering – it NEEDS to know what we have learned from Jesus at the cross… The people in our neighborhoods need to know that suffering is not the worst thing that could happen to them.
And here is where the mean-spirited and cruel judge finally comes into focus: sometimes there isn’t a pretty ending in our lives – sometimes we have to endure injustice and pain and deep questions without answers – sometimes we wake up and discover that we’re suffering by the waters of Babylon. Because faith, you see, adult faith in our tradition, “doesn’t fix things as much as gives us the capacity and courage to bear hard things well.”
• God, of course, is our loving ABBA, who yearns to bring us blessing and bounty, not the cruel SOB of this parable even when life has led us to the waters of Babylon.
• And as we seek to know ABBA through prayer and the Word of God, we come to see that the judge is not the main character in this story: the widow is – the one who knows and trusts the Lord by faith.
And that is why Jesus ends the story with a question; he's asking: do you get it? Do you understand that suffering is part of the life of a disciple? Do you get that the waters of Babylon are more often the rule than the exception? And that God’s loving presence can be real even in there?
Beloved, I am a huge fan of celebrating the truth and depth of every spiritual tradition - I respect and honor the sacred in every faith tradition - but let me be explicit: if you do not specialize and focus in one, you will be forever unfocused and fuzzy when it comes to living into God's grace. This is simply a hard, cold fact. We are Christians - people who follow Jesus into the celebration and suffering of real life - and that means we must turn to him and God's word if we are to find persistent faith.
• You see, God’s grace can be real even by the waters of Babylon, but it takes training and focus.
• It is not automatic: and THAT is the good news for today for those who have ears to hear.
Miles Davis - an on-going enigma to me: I adore his early works on Columbia and have come to aesthetically shy away from his electric cacophony from "Bitches Brew" forward. Love it intellectually but can't tolerate the chaos and hurt it puts on my ears any more. I am particularly listening now to the interplay between his drummer and bass player to get a deeper sense of how my bass playing fits into this genre. As one wise teacher recently told me, "It is much more about feeling what you play - in the groove - than what you play." (Although, let's be clear: WHAT you play still matters.)
But the groove-thing - playing with rhythm, sound and silence - is totally where its at: as an old-school rock and roll bass player this nuance and finesse thing is starting to be fun to explore. My old heroes - McCartney, Entwistle and Lee Sklar - certainly understood this better than many of their peers. I remember the first time I heard Sklar play on "Sweet Baby James" - so fluid and also tenderly funky - I was awed.
So, for the next year, I'm going to be learning and practicing and figuring out how my old hammer-hand style can fit into the jazz groove. Like my dad said to me, "You're ALWAYS finding something new and creative to explore, aren't you?" (This in reference to the Istanbul trip.) I guess that's just one of the ways I continue to experience the holy - through creativity, imagination and exploration - and it just keeps getting to be more and more fun. Harder, to be sure, but also deeper... and the whole experiment with improvisation is mind-blowing.
As a part of the growing movement responding to the rash of suicides by young gay people, Dan Savage and his husband, Terry, posted this message: "It Gets Better." It is a message of hope aimed at all queer kids - a testimony that life truly IS worth living - despite the current pain. In fact, it gets VERY worth living...
I want to add my voice and prayers in support of all queer kids - and all geeks and misfits, too - who are aching to know that not only are they loved just the way they are but that life can be awesome.
NOTE:After being at my dad's for a few days - without Internet access - I was behind in getting my worship notes finished. So, on a weekend that includes the 10/10/10 eco-justice celebrations on Sunday as well as the marking of John Lennon's 70th birthday today, I post my reflections on this week scripture in Jeremiah 29 and Luke 17.
Over the years I have found myself moving further and further away from John Lennon's almost feverish obsession with the outward appearances of the counterculture towards George Harrison's more balanced approach of inner and outer peace-making. Oh well, I still love many of John's tunes - Imagine included - and give thanks for his gifts. If you happen to be in town, we'll be marking the eco-justice issues and bringing Joni's song, "Big Yellow Taxi" to the time for children. Love it if you could join us...
The German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, once wrote about himself in his autobiography that “he possessed the ability to smell the inmost parts of every soul – especially the abundant, hidden dirt at the bottom of many a character.” In a note found scribbled upon the wall of Mother Theresa’s bedroom at the Sisters of Charity home in Calcutta, India an alternative option puts it like this:
People are often unreasonable, irrational and self-centered: Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives: be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies: succeed anyway. If you are honest and sincere, people may deceive you: be honest and sincere anyway. What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight: create anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous: be happy anyway. The good you do today, will often be forgotten: do good anyway. Give the best you have, and it will never be enough: give your best anyway. In the final analysis, it is between you and God....It was never between you and them anyway.
Today our lessons from scripture suggest that we have a choice to make in life – a choice that goes to the heart of faith – and it has to do with how we choose to see reality. We can choose to seek the welfare and shalom of the city – even when 9 out of 10 lepers refuse or forget to respond to God’s grace with gratitude – or we can decide to let hurt, judgment or cynicism shape our existence.
• We can be like Nietzsche – and choose to focus upon the base, broken and repugnant realities of life because they are all too real and ever present.
• Or, like Mother Theresa, we can choose to nourish, discern and cultivate a deeper vision – the vision of God – that calls us beyond the obvious to what really matters.
I like how Philip Yancey put it: those who have decided to follow Jesus are challenged to do the opposite of Nietzsche and smell the residue of hidden worth in every person and possibility rather than just the stench of our wounded and stinking humanity. For THIS is what it means to be countercultural where it matters!
Some of you know that I just returned from visiting my dad down at his home in Maryland – it has been a year since my last visit – and his health is not terrific. It was important for me to check in and I’m glad I made the trip. Well, among the many things we did together over a few days, one involved looking through old family pictures – we have thousands of them stuffed into old plastic bags that my mother had hoped to sort through before her death – that now take up a whole closet.
+ And let me tell you it was an exercise in humility to browse through those pictures because I couldn’t help but notice some of the weird and totally ugly clothes I used to wear during my high school years. This was the 60s, you know, and I was a dedicated follower of the so-called counter culture of my generation.
+ Which meant that I slavishly conformed to wearing whatever the Beatles were wearing at the time: one week it was peach colored Nehru shirts with beads and bold stripped bell bottom pants – then it was vintage rummage store overcoats with baggy blue jeans and high top sneakers. Sometimes I had big, yellow-tinted aviator eye glasses only to be discarded for tiny wire-rimmed John Lennon granny specs or those huge, tortoise-shelled Annie Hall framed monstrosities.
You see, as a part of the 60s counter-culture – damn it I needed to fit in—even in the most superficial way. And my hunch is that most of us could talk about some of the goofy clothes we wore or embarrassing things we said and did in high school or college because that’s what you do while growing up: you try on roles – and clothes – and even attitudes and philosophies to discover what rings true, yes?
But the accouterments of pop culture are not a counter culture that matters: they have no depth, no vision and no ethical core to guide living into the truly difficult and often complicated realities we face in the real world. Consider the case of the prophet Jeremiah, who urged his people to seek the welfare and shalom of the city of their captivity – now THAT is really countercultural – an authentic and profound alternative, yes?
Here are a few details about Jeremiah’s ministry that give us some context: Scholars tell us that Jeremiah was an illiterate country preacher who needed to have all his words taken down by a scribe. In this he was much like the prophet Mohammed 800 years later, who could not read nor write either, which marks him as one who lived outside of the elite, ok?
+ He came from the northern town of Anathoth in the tribal lands of Benjamin – the home of the failed King Saul – which was another strike against him. To make matters worse, this town was named after the Canaanite goddess Anat, so the best and brightest of Israel considered this a place of total losers.
+ What’s more, Jeremiah couldn’t seem to cut a break as a traditional prophet: in chapter 26 we find that he was almost put to death for a sermon preached in the temple court. At another time he was slapped in the face, locked into stocks (chapter 20), imprisoned (chapter 37) and eventually thrown down a well (chapter 38).
+ And just so that we grasp the fact that Jeremiah really was a totally rejected outsider, the scriptures tell us that the only reason he was in a position to send a letter to the faithful of Israel in the first place was “because he had been left behind in the deportations; the Babylonians did not think he was worth the effort” of taking into exile with the social elites of his time..
Did you get that? When King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon took Israel into captivity, his military leaders didn’t think Jeremiah was smart enough or valuable enough to carry off to the waters of Babylon. All of which makes today’s prophecy so powerfully countercultural. Writing to the captives in Babylon from back in Jerusalem, Jeremiah is an outsider called by the Lord to tell the insiders – the priests and leaders of his tribe – that it is God’s will for them to seek the welfare of their new home in Babylonian captivity.
“The time for mourning and fear is over” he tells them – the time for looking backward into the past and nostalgia is over, too – for now God’s people must seek the welfare of the city and pray for those who are their enemies. Literally he’s telling them to build new houses and live in them – make their communities physically beautiful and socially just – that they seek the welfare of the city. “Live as agents of shalom – building right and just relations between all the people right where you are” – was his message. And this included not only those who were a part of the tribe, but also those who were the enemy – and how counter cultural is that? Now let that sink in:
• Pray for your enemies? Build new houses and fill them with beauty and compassion even in exile? Start a garden and share its bounty with ALL your neighbors?
• This isn’t a vision born of human political wisdom – it comes from God – who invites us to use our imagination that we might see beyond the obvious into new ways of living that go beyond the bottom line. Writer William Bausch celebrates this truth when he writes that for people of faith, “Learning to see is the key, for you see what you are. The Talmud says: "We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are."
Robert Barron puts it this way: “Christianity is, above all, a way of seeing. Everything else in Christian life flows from and circles around the transformation of our vision. Christians see differently, and that is why their prayer, their worship, their action and their whole way of being in the world has a distinctive accent and flavor.”
What unites figures as diverse as James Joyce, Caravaggio, John Milton, the architect of Chartres, Dorothy Day, Dietrich Bonheoffer and the later Bob Dylan is a peculiar and distinctive take on things, a style, a way, which flows finally from Jesus of Nazareth. Origen of Alexandria once remarked that holiness is seeing with the eyes of Christ. Teilhard de Chardin said with great passion that his mission as a Christian thinker was to help people see and Thomas Aquinas said that the ultimate goal of the Christian life is a "beatific vision," an act of seeing.
I think that this is what Jesus is telling us in the story from Luke’s gospel about the 10 lepers who are healed. Most of the time I’ve heard preachers use this as a story of warning or judgment: thou shall not live as those ungrateful 9 lepers but rather as the one Samaritan who returned thanks. But my sense is that Jesus is more likely describing what real life looks like – sharing more a descriptive than prescriptive word – about how real life works: life is always going to be unfair – people are always going to be ungrateful or too busy to notice – injustice is always going to part of the fabric of existence – and suffering on some level is eternal.
In other words, people of faith will regularly find themselves by the waters of Babylon. It might be spiritual captivity or political oppression. It could be economic turmoil or medical tragedy. It may involve your family, you body, your mind or your soul. So, the real challenge is not how can I avoid the waters of Babylon, but rather how do I acquire the eyes to seek the shalom of the city no matter where I find myself? Are you with me here? Do you see the difference? We can either nourish the habits of Nietzsche or Mother Teresa? Cultivate God’s counter cultural vision so the work of shalom grows even in the midst of captivity or give up?
And I think that there are three ways to give up: let your feelings stay hurt – blame others – or cultivate cynicism. None of these deepens the sacred imagination nor challenges or changes the status quo because they are not a part of God’s countercultural vision of healing. So let me be direct, ok?
• Living with hurt feelings forever is for babies: scripture notes that when I was a child I lived and spoke and acted like a child; but when I matured and grew up… what? I put childish things away.
• Jesus was equally clear that blaming others is for self-righteous phonies: After warning his disciples in the Sermon on the Mount not to be phony in prayer, he tells them Matthew 23 that he’s had it with the hopeless, religious frauds: Your lives are roadblocks to God's kingdom… you blame others and keep score of their little failings but refuse to see the big picture.”
• And cynicism? That’s for cranky old fools who refuse to learn from their mistakes: Ephesians 4 says, “Look there are to be no prolonged infancies among us, please. We'll not tolerate babes in the woods, small children who are an easy mark for impostors. God wants us to grow up, to know the whole truth and tell it in love—like Christ in everything.”
Now that is the goal – the ideal – what a mature Christian of faith looks like: someone prepared to dwell by the waters of Babylon in life and seek the shalom of the city. But let’s face it: we are pilgrims on the journey, right? We are still “on the road to find out,” as Cat Stevens sang. So how do we put into practice seeking the shalom of the city – or our neighborhood – or even growing through our hurts and fears of life into consistent ambassadors of peace and compassion?
Well, I think that Jesus offers two clues in this morning’s gospel: the first has to do with a willingness to explore God’s love in a non-linear way; that is, we need to take some time and let God lead us wherever God wants us to go rather than striving for just our own personal goals and deadlines. And second, we need to practice nourishing our hearts and minds with visions of God’s alternative vision. It can’t ALL be garbage in because then… you get garbage out, too and there’s just too much garbage to add to the problem, yes?
Here’s the first clue: scripture gives us some weird information by saying that while on his way to Jerusalem Jesus passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee. Galilee is north of Samaria – and according to the story Jesus left Galilee weeks ago for Jerusalem – so why is he now heading in the opposite direction? It would be like travelling from Pittsfield to New York City, stopping in Hartford and then heading off to Albany before getting back on the road to Manhattan, ok? What’s more, there is no region between Galilee and Samaria any more than there is a region between Massachusetts and Connecticut.
Some scholars suggest that this simply shows Luke’s poor sense of geography and he got it wrong – which is a possibility – there are mistakes throughout the Bible. But what if the point is theological rather than geographical? What if Luke is telling us that in order to learn how to live by the waters of Babylon – remember Jesus is on the way to Jerusalem to face the cross – we must be willing to learn how to live in those regions between our departure and destination?
+ Those middle places that usually feel a lot like wandering in the wilderness or weeping by the waters of Babylon? What can we learn from those places?
+ Apparently Jesus was willing to go into them freely – to see what might happen if he took his time in a totally non-linear way – to look around and explore – to test and discern. He wasn’t in a hurry and what is true for Jesus is often true for us, too.
Perhaps one way of cultivating the ability to seek the shalom of the city has something to do with slowing down. Resting. Stepping back from all the important deadlines and simply waiting for what God wants to share with us, ok? And I suspect that the second clue is related to the first: one of the best ways to slow down is to take a moment everyday to feed and nourish God’s alternative vision within you.
Listen, if all you’re taking in is Rush or Olberman – or work – or the demands of the family – or the disaster-mongers on 24/7 cable news – or even the mindless schlock entertainment of “Jersey Shore” or the “Real Housewives of Washington, DC” then you aren’t nourishing God’s alternative vision. That is, you aren’t learning to see in new ways – and without a vision the people perish.
I love the way Rabbi Harold Kushner puts it:Religion is not primarily a set of beliefs, a collection of prayers or a series of rituals. Religion is first and foremost a way of seeing. It can't change the facts about the world we live in, but it can change the way we see those facts and that in itself can often make a difference.
Historically Christians have turned to the scriptures to help them get a glimpse of God’s alternative. So tell me, what do you think would happen if every day – or at least most every day – you gave yourself over to spending 3 minutes reading about God’s vision? What do you suppose would happen if for three minutes each morning – and maybe even three minutes each night – you read some of the traditional Morning and Evening prayer psalms?
It wouldn’t change the world all at once, would it? It wouldn’t end global warming or reduce the abuse of small children or bring an end to the ugly wars in either Iraq or Afghanistan. But… it would begin to nourish within you a countercultural vision born of God not garbage. And it would give you a little time to wander with Jesus like his time in Samaria. And in time it would also give you eyes to see in faith, yes?
There are choices to be made: Nietzsche and Mother Teresa make the consequences clear. So Lord help us to choose that we might have eyes to see and ears to hear.
Ok, so here's the link to last night's TV show. I got a chance to sit in with some totally awesome musicians and will work with these guys throughout the year as we get ready for Istanbul. Go to: http://www.pittsfieldtv.net/Cablecast/Public/Main.aspx?ChannelID=1 and look for the line up featuring "Jerry's Place."
What a treat... and while you're at it: why not stop by the 6th Annual Jazz Festival in Pittsfield over the next two weeks? One of our high school students made the new poster and here are some of this year's highlights:
The sixth annual Pittsfield CityJazz Festival is scheduled for October 8 – 21, 2010, in venues around the city. Headline performers include baritone saxophone virtuoso Claire Daly; up-and-coming vibraphone player Joe Baione; a return of the American Jazz Repertory Orchestra, the Brazilian Jazz Trio, and the Berkshires Youth Jazz Ensemble. Once again, the festival will be collaborating with the schools of Berkshire County with free performances and discussions by the Pittsfield Sister City Jazz Ambassadors who will be playing at:
•October 15, 12:50 PM: Lee Middle and High Schools (Lee) •October 18, 10:00 and 11:00 AM: Kittredge Elementary School (Hinsdale) •October 18, 1:30 PM: Becket/Washington Elementary School (Becket) •October 25, 9:30 AM: Greylock Elementary School (North Adams) •October 25, afternoon: Sullivan Elementary School (North Adams) Time remains to be set. •November 1, 8:30 AM: Mt. Greylock Regional High School (Williamstown) •November 1, 1:30 PM: Brayton Elementary School (North Adams)
I made it home safely from visiting my dad - a good but demanding trip in many ways - only to check in with church before heading off to a live jazz gig on local TV with the Jazz Ambassadors. I just sat in on one tune - they are smokin' players and I really need to work on my chops for this adventure - but it was a blast. What fun - and what a privilege - to join with these guys.
There's a whole lot more to say about all of this, but here's the bottom line: we hope to bring some American jazz to Istanbul, Turkey in June 2011 as part of our peace-making commitment. We'll be playing vigorously over the next 9 months to raise funds for this - and working hard, too at practicing getting our sound right - and studying as well. Quite a fascinating way to jump back into the groove after being away for a few days...
Tonight after the TV show, we sat around talking about Coltrane learning Arabic scales and the importance of cymbals and how they changed contemporary American music as well as our fears, hopes and needs about this trip. I am currently reading American Music by Jane Mendelsohn - a very sensitive book about a physical therapist working with a 24 year old Iraq vet who has experienced great physical and spiritual loss - that is equally grounded in the importance of music. Check out a review in the NY Times @ http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/04/books/review/Gilmore-t.html?_r=1
More and more I am finding things fitting together in my life in bold but unexpected ways - which is also one of the themes of this intriguing book. Funny how life begins to fit together - maybe not make sense - but at least fit when you stop trying to force it into a mold or ideology and just go where the Spirit blows. VERY improvisational...
also delighted that two new performers - but dear souls - are joining the fun: Graham Sturtz and Hal Lefferts. I had the privilege of celebrating Graham's wedding a few years back.
