Sermons on iTunes, the Blog, and Everywhere
Feb/10/2009 04:48 PM | Permalink
My amazing new laptop is allowing me to try out all
sorts of new things. Among them, podcasting.
We're pleased to announce that Northaven now has podcasts of our sermons at iTunes and up at the Northaven website.
Still working on the actual design so that it looks nice and beautiful on the Northaven site. But the podcast feed will basically replace the old "Sermons" page at the Northaven site. You can find that here.
It's also live on iTunes, at the iTunes store. So, if you've got an iPod and have been itching to get our sermons as iTunes podcast, knock yourself out by going here.
(If you've gone a non-iPod devise, or just listen to rss audio feeds some other way, you can "subscribe" at that first link I gave...)
The cool thing about an podcast feed, of course, is that you can import it to just about anywhere. So, I've put it here on the blog too. Just scroll down the righthand navigational window, till you find the box that says "Sermons."
You should be able to listen in there too, if like, without ever leaving this page.
Hope you enjoy all this. We'll announce this to the greater Northaven community sometime later this week, when we're done making the web-version look pretty.
We're pleased to announce that Northaven now has podcasts of our sermons at iTunes and up at the Northaven website.
Still working on the actual design so that it looks nice and beautiful on the Northaven site. But the podcast feed will basically replace the old "Sermons" page at the Northaven site. You can find that here.
It's also live on iTunes, at the iTunes store. So, if you've got an iPod and have been itching to get our sermons as iTunes podcast, knock yourself out by going here.
(If you've gone a non-iPod devise, or just listen to rss audio feeds some other way, you can "subscribe" at that first link I gave...)
The cool thing about an podcast feed, of course, is that you can import it to just about anywhere. So, I've put it here on the blog too. Just scroll down the righthand navigational window, till you find the box that says "Sermons."
You should be able to listen in there too, if like, without ever leaving this page.
Hope you enjoy all this. We'll announce this to the greater Northaven community sometime later this week, when we're done making the web-version look pretty.
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Why Is Apology So Strange?
Feb/04/2009 06:09 PM | Permalink
"I screwed up."
No, I didn't really screw up. At least, not in any way that I believe I owe you all an apology.
It's an expression. It's something many of us say every day.
Learning to apologize is a key value of a mature adult human being. But to hear the screaming headlines in this morning's papers, you would think President Obama saying "I screwed up" was the most horrible admission a President could ever make.
I missed going through the paper before I left this morning, because I had to meet somebody pretty early for coffee. But on my way out of the Starbucks, I noted the *huge* 48-point type headlines on the front page:
"Obama: I Screwed Up"
I thought, "Good Lord! What has he done?! Did he send somebody our nuclear launch codes via his Blackberrry? What?!! What?!!"
Turns out, it had to do with the whole Daschle matter. Obama was taking responsibility for the way the matter had been handled.
But, to read the headlines, you'd think he'd committed some irredeemable act. Some horrible moral transgression.
No. Not really. Just the matter of his nominees for certain cabinet level positions.
I don't mean to minimize the fault here, but it's not punching the wrong button on the Red Phone. It's not sending $500 billion in bailout money to a bank account in the Caymans.
I wonder, then, what does Obama's apology says to us?
More specifically, I wonder what it says to us about us?
My hunch is that it says this:
a) We're not use to it in a President, so it's hard to get used to, and
b) We're still not that good at making, accepting, or processing apologies...whomever makes them.
When I was a kid, "Love Story" was a big movie. I didn't see it, I just heard the schmaltzy soundtrack songs, and knew it was generally being discussed around me.
The ethos of "Love Story" was this:
Love is never having to say you're sorry.
As a kid, I assumed the adults who came up with this line knew what they were talking about. They were adults, after all. Weren't adults always right?
Um....No!
Love is saying you're sorry a LOT. A hell of a lot. Love is apologizing every time you realize that you've screwed up.
Better than even the word "love," though, would be the word "Maturity."
Maturity is saying "I screwed up."
Maturity is taking responsibility for ones actions.
Maturity is being able to say such things publicly, when it's called for.
Maturity is learning from those mistakes, and not making the same mistakes twice, where ever possible.
My hunch is, though, that the act of apology is still something many of us struggle with. It's hard, even with those closest to us. It's especially hard in work situations, where our jobs might be on the line.
And further than this, almost all of us have been in the uncomfortable position of making an apology that goes UNaccepted. That can make us feel angry. It can make us feel confused and even more guilty.
Point is, we don't do it well. And many of us still tend to count it as a kind of moral weakness. We have DNA code in us that teaches us to pounce on the weak, for the sake of the strong. Apology looks like (but is not) weakness.
And so, we pounce.
To wit, a Google search of the phrase "I screwed up" right now yields more than 6,000 news results!!! All about this admission from Obama.
After the apology comes the public flogging, right? Seems that's what some are hoping for here.
Well, I liked it. I liked that Obama apologized. I find it a refreshing change. But I'm more than mildly pissed that it made it into 48-point headlines in the Dallas Morning News.
Of course, there was a time when folks apologized for almost everything all the time. Under the old Catholic system of confession, parishioners would slink into a small room and bear their hearts to an anonymous priest.
Kids tended to confess even the smallest of "sins," to the point which it almost seemed like they were apologizing for being kids!
But as someone who has grown up without that kind of mechanized system of apology, I often wonder what the lack of it does for us. Because, it seems now that apology is a lost art...almost its own kind of taboo.
We've swung the pendulum from the time when everybody felt guilty for everything they did, to a time when nobody even knows how to apologize, even if they wanted to.
And nobody knows what to do with one we somebody gives one to us.
Which is better?
Probably something in the middle.
But I, for one, am dang pleased to have a President who is willing to use the words "I screwed up," regardless of context.
The fact that he's will to use them is the main point. We should all learn to use them more often.
And we should all spend some time of the question: What does it mean that we still find apology so strange?
No, I didn't really screw up. At least, not in any way that I believe I owe you all an apology.
It's an expression. It's something many of us say every day.
Learning to apologize is a key value of a mature adult human being. But to hear the screaming headlines in this morning's papers, you would think President Obama saying "I screwed up" was the most horrible admission a President could ever make.
I missed going through the paper before I left this morning, because I had to meet somebody pretty early for coffee. But on my way out of the Starbucks, I noted the *huge* 48-point type headlines on the front page:
"Obama: I Screwed Up"
I thought, "Good Lord! What has he done?! Did he send somebody our nuclear launch codes via his Blackberrry? What?!! What?!!"
Turns out, it had to do with the whole Daschle matter. Obama was taking responsibility for the way the matter had been handled.
But, to read the headlines, you'd think he'd committed some irredeemable act. Some horrible moral transgression.
No. Not really. Just the matter of his nominees for certain cabinet level positions.
I don't mean to minimize the fault here, but it's not punching the wrong button on the Red Phone. It's not sending $500 billion in bailout money to a bank account in the Caymans.
I wonder, then, what does Obama's apology says to us?
More specifically, I wonder what it says to us about us?
My hunch is that it says this:
a) We're not use to it in a President, so it's hard to get used to, and
b) We're still not that good at making, accepting, or processing apologies...whomever makes them.
When I was a kid, "Love Story" was a big movie. I didn't see it, I just heard the schmaltzy soundtrack songs, and knew it was generally being discussed around me.
The ethos of "Love Story" was this:
Love is never having to say you're sorry.
As a kid, I assumed the adults who came up with this line knew what they were talking about. They were adults, after all. Weren't adults always right?
Um....No!
Love is saying you're sorry a LOT. A hell of a lot. Love is apologizing every time you realize that you've screwed up.
Better than even the word "love," though, would be the word "Maturity."
Maturity is saying "I screwed up."
Maturity is taking responsibility for ones actions.
Maturity is being able to say such things publicly, when it's called for.
Maturity is learning from those mistakes, and not making the same mistakes twice, where ever possible.
My hunch is, though, that the act of apology is still something many of us struggle with. It's hard, even with those closest to us. It's especially hard in work situations, where our jobs might be on the line.
And further than this, almost all of us have been in the uncomfortable position of making an apology that goes UNaccepted. That can make us feel angry. It can make us feel confused and even more guilty.
Point is, we don't do it well. And many of us still tend to count it as a kind of moral weakness. We have DNA code in us that teaches us to pounce on the weak, for the sake of the strong. Apology looks like (but is not) weakness.
And so, we pounce.
To wit, a Google search of the phrase "I screwed up" right now yields more than 6,000 news results!!! All about this admission from Obama.
After the apology comes the public flogging, right? Seems that's what some are hoping for here.
Well, I liked it. I liked that Obama apologized. I find it a refreshing change. But I'm more than mildly pissed that it made it into 48-point headlines in the Dallas Morning News.
Of course, there was a time when folks apologized for almost everything all the time. Under the old Catholic system of confession, parishioners would slink into a small room and bear their hearts to an anonymous priest.
Kids tended to confess even the smallest of "sins," to the point which it almost seemed like they were apologizing for being kids!
But as someone who has grown up without that kind of mechanized system of apology, I often wonder what the lack of it does for us. Because, it seems now that apology is a lost art...almost its own kind of taboo.
We've swung the pendulum from the time when everybody felt guilty for everything they did, to a time when nobody even knows how to apologize, even if they wanted to.
And nobody knows what to do with one we somebody gives one to us.
Which is better?
Probably something in the middle.
But I, for one, am dang pleased to have a President who is willing to use the words "I screwed up," regardless of context.
The fact that he's will to use them is the main point. We should all learn to use them more often.
And we should all spend some time of the question: What does it mean that we still find apology so strange?
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Warren-less Wiretap
Jan/27/2009 11:16 PM | Permalink
It’s sleeting outside and very cold.
We’ve got a fire in the hearth, and are
assuming that, at the very least life will be delayed
a few hours tomorrow morning. The dogs are grateful
for their position under the kitchen table, and we
had a nice night of turkey chili and Merlot.
The perfect time for some blogging. So, just a few thoughts about Rick Warren.
Lots of folks have been asking me, first, what I thought of Obama’s choice of Rick Warren to give the invocation at his inauguration. Secondly, they’ve asked what I thought of the prayer itself.
Let me start with the latter.
I though the prayer was kind of dull, actually. There wasn’t a lot to quibble with in the prayer, as far as I could hear. I agree with John Stewart’s analysis that he pronounced “Sasha” and “Malia” in a very STRANGE way. (Actually, Dennise, Maria and I all noticed this creepy moment...)
The biggest goof I thought he made was including the Lord’s Prayer at the end. I didn’t find it as offensive as I found it colossally tone deaf.
Even in exclusively Christian settings, most pastors can tell you that that you have to use some discretion about the Lord’s Prayer. Frankly, you can’t assume anymore that everybody is always going to know it! And even if they do, you can’t assume they all know the same version!
At weddings, for example, you typically try to discern whether or not the worshippers will mostly be from your own church or tradition. It’s become very common to print the version you’re going to use in a bulletin.
Warren used the Lord’s Prayer as if it was the ending of a pastoral prayer, not an invocation. At many churches, including my own, the pastoral prayer transitions into the congregation reciting the Lord’s Prayer together. But, as I’ve just noted, there is an assumption made that *most* of the folks know the prayer, are ready for the prayer, and under that they’re being asked to pray together.
For an inaugural invocation --an event that is public and, at best, can be described as interfaith-- using the Lord’s Prayer didn’t strike me as making a bold statement about Warren’s faith.
It just sounded pastorally tone deaf in way I find surprising from a guy who I would think would know better.
But as to the prior question of Obama picking Warren in the first place...
I find myself disagreeing with many of my progressive brothers and sisters
Basically, I feel much as I did back during the controversy over Rev. Jeremiah Wright: Obama has the the right to get religious/spiritual guidance from any leader he chooses.
He does not owe us any explanation for the place he chooses to go to church, the sermons he chooses to listen to, or the people who do the praying in his presence.
He is not responsible for all of their beliefs, nor is there a credible way to argue that he shares the views of all of them.
That’s the heart of religious freedom in our country. During the firestorm of the Rev. Wright controversy, I blogged as delicately as I could about this. I feel even more strongly about it now.
It’s HIS inauguration. He’s the one getting sworn in. He gets to choose whom he wants to be a part of it and for what reason. And he does not owe us an explanation for it.
Yes, I know this sounds harsh. Yes, I know all about Rick Warren’s views of homosexuality, Yes, I personally believe he espouses a wrongheaded and sinful way of looking at the issue. Yes, I know what he’s compared gay and lesbian people too.
It’s deeply troubling.
But from the perspective of Obama’s choice of Warren: it’s his choice, period. I may not like Warren. Others may not like Wright. I’ve heard from some who didn’t care for Lowery’s prayer.
Fine.
Frankly, had Obama chosen Jeremiah Wright, I absolutely would have supported that choice, just as during that scandal I argued that the church Obama attends was nobody’s business either.
To some, Sarah Palin has a scary religious background. I think we got so enamored with her many other issues that we never really explored those issues. But even if we had, I would have, again, supported the idea that she has the right to get spiritual support from anywhere she chooses.
Frankly --and I say this with all love and respect to everyone who feels differently-- to argue anything else gives us clergy far more credit than we deserve. To imagine that we’d be able to totally influence the moral and political views of politicians who worship with us, defies credulity.
I am not nearly so egocentric as to imagine that anyone who has ever worshipped with me will blindly follow the words I speak and the values I espouse.
And if you think a candidate out there would, then you certainly shouldn’t vote for him or her for public office.
The perfect time for some blogging. So, just a few thoughts about Rick Warren.
Lots of folks have been asking me, first, what I thought of Obama’s choice of Rick Warren to give the invocation at his inauguration. Secondly, they’ve asked what I thought of the prayer itself.
Let me start with the latter.
I though the prayer was kind of dull, actually. There wasn’t a lot to quibble with in the prayer, as far as I could hear. I agree with John Stewart’s analysis that he pronounced “Sasha” and “Malia” in a very STRANGE way. (Actually, Dennise, Maria and I all noticed this creepy moment...)
The biggest goof I thought he made was including the Lord’s Prayer at the end. I didn’t find it as offensive as I found it colossally tone deaf.
Even in exclusively Christian settings, most pastors can tell you that that you have to use some discretion about the Lord’s Prayer. Frankly, you can’t assume anymore that everybody is always going to know it! And even if they do, you can’t assume they all know the same version!
At weddings, for example, you typically try to discern whether or not the worshippers will mostly be from your own church or tradition. It’s become very common to print the version you’re going to use in a bulletin.
Warren used the Lord’s Prayer as if it was the ending of a pastoral prayer, not an invocation. At many churches, including my own, the pastoral prayer transitions into the congregation reciting the Lord’s Prayer together. But, as I’ve just noted, there is an assumption made that *most* of the folks know the prayer, are ready for the prayer, and under that they’re being asked to pray together.
For an inaugural invocation --an event that is public and, at best, can be described as interfaith-- using the Lord’s Prayer didn’t strike me as making a bold statement about Warren’s faith.
It just sounded pastorally tone deaf in way I find surprising from a guy who I would think would know better.
But as to the prior question of Obama picking Warren in the first place...
I find myself disagreeing with many of my progressive brothers and sisters
Basically, I feel much as I did back during the controversy over Rev. Jeremiah Wright: Obama has the the right to get religious/spiritual guidance from any leader he chooses.
He does not owe us any explanation for the place he chooses to go to church, the sermons he chooses to listen to, or the people who do the praying in his presence.
He is not responsible for all of their beliefs, nor is there a credible way to argue that he shares the views of all of them.
That’s the heart of religious freedom in our country. During the firestorm of the Rev. Wright controversy, I blogged as delicately as I could about this. I feel even more strongly about it now.
It’s HIS inauguration. He’s the one getting sworn in. He gets to choose whom he wants to be a part of it and for what reason. And he does not owe us an explanation for it.
Yes, I know this sounds harsh. Yes, I know all about Rick Warren’s views of homosexuality, Yes, I personally believe he espouses a wrongheaded and sinful way of looking at the issue. Yes, I know what he’s compared gay and lesbian people too.
It’s deeply troubling.
But from the perspective of Obama’s choice of Warren: it’s his choice, period. I may not like Warren. Others may not like Wright. I’ve heard from some who didn’t care for Lowery’s prayer.
Fine.
Frankly, had Obama chosen Jeremiah Wright, I absolutely would have supported that choice, just as during that scandal I argued that the church Obama attends was nobody’s business either.
To some, Sarah Palin has a scary religious background. I think we got so enamored with her many other issues that we never really explored those issues. But even if we had, I would have, again, supported the idea that she has the right to get spiritual support from anywhere she chooses.
Frankly --and I say this with all love and respect to everyone who feels differently-- to argue anything else gives us clergy far more credit than we deserve. To imagine that we’d be able to totally influence the moral and political views of politicians who worship with us, defies credulity.
I am not nearly so egocentric as to imagine that anyone who has ever worshipped with me will blindly follow the words I speak and the values I espouse.
And if you think a candidate out there would, then you certainly shouldn’t vote for him or her for public office.
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A Prayer for Inauguration Day from Bishop Gene
Robinson
Jan/20/2009 08:12 AM | Permalink
Thanks to
Pastor Dan
at Street Prophets for the heads up on this video and
text.
Below is the prayer of Bishop Gene Robinson, at the beginning of the "We Are One" concert on the Mall in Washington. (Blogged about yesterday, here) Apparently, the prayer has become somewhat controversial, in that the Inaugural Committee chose to not run it as a part of the HBO special.
Shame.
Because it was a great prayer for that day...and for this one....
The full text of the prayer here:
Dan not only posted the video and text, but also added a few comments of his own about it at the end.
I find myself in total agreement with the following, and couldn't have said it better myself:
"The other thing to notice here is how utterly unsurprising Robinson's prayer is. I don't mean that as an insult. But more than likely, any mainline Protestant could have heard what he had to say in their own congregation or at a wider church meeting. Yet there are many progressives who are floored to hear such inclusiveness, such gentleness, come from a Christian leader.
That's sad."
Below is the prayer of Bishop Gene Robinson, at the beginning of the "We Are One" concert on the Mall in Washington. (Blogged about yesterday, here) Apparently, the prayer has become somewhat controversial, in that the Inaugural Committee chose to not run it as a part of the HBO special.
Shame.
Because it was a great prayer for that day...and for this one....
The full text of the prayer here:
"Welcome to Washington! The fun is about to begin, but first, please join me in pausing for a moment, to ask God’s blessing upon our nation and our next president.
O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will...
Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic "answers" we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.
Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be "fixed" anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.
Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.
Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.
Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.
And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.
Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln’s reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy’s ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King’s dream of a nation for ALL the people.
Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.
Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.
Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.
Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.
Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters’ childhoods.
And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.
AMEN."
Dan not only posted the video and text, but also added a few comments of his own about it at the end.
I find myself in total agreement with the following, and couldn't have said it better myself:
"The other thing to notice here is how utterly unsurprising Robinson's prayer is. I don't mean that as an insult. But more than likely, any mainline Protestant could have heard what he had to say in their own congregation or at a wider church meeting. Yet there are many progressives who are floored to hear such inclusiveness, such gentleness, come from a Christian leader.
That's sad."
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Like You and Like I (A Christmas Meditation)
Dec/21/2008 10:24 PM | Permalink
I didn't think I'd get a Christmas devotional done
this year. But it looks like I did. You can hear most
of this in audio form by clicking
here.
You can read it by just continuing below. Hope
you're having a blessed holiday...
There is an old story I have heard various folks --from conservative preachers to liberal rabbis-- tell. Which probably means it’s a good one. You may have heard this before in a slightly different form...
Once there was a young boy, perhaps four-years-old, afraid of the dark and of “monsters under the bed.” One night, he calls for his Mom in the middle of the night, and shares his fears about it.
They turn on the light. They look under the bed. Much to his relief, there are no monsters.
Moments later, he calls to her again, and she comes running again. He tells her that he is sure there are monsters in the closet. So, they open up the closet, push back the clothes. No monsters.
Sensing that he needs additional reassuring, she reminds him that she is right down the hall, and that he is completely safe.
And, she adds, “Even when Mommy is not with you, God is with you. You can pray to God, and God will help keep you safe.”
She kisses him goodnight, and heads off to bed.
But, the boy stares into the dark, his eyes wide open, thinking now not only of monsters under the bed, but also of Mommy down the hall, and of prayers to God. The boy thinks and thinks. Fnally, he can stand it no more, and so he calls out one more time. “Moommy!!!”
His mother comes running.
“What is it, dear?”
“Mommy,” he says, “I’ve been thinking about this God-thing. I know that I can pray to God. But I think what I need is a God will a little skin on ‘em.”
A God with a little skin on ‘em.
Wouldn’t it be GREAT to worship a “God will a little skin on ‘em?”
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known through the embrace of a child, or the laughter of a wise old man?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God of a mother love’s or father’s hug?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known in the passion of lovers, or the compassion of those serving a meal to the homeless?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known through the use of our senses...our touch, smell, taste, sight...hearing?”
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known through music, art, dance, spoken word?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a “God with a little skin on ‘em?”
Oh...wait...We already do...
I forgot.
Maybe you did too?
You see, dear friends, this IS the message of Christmas. We call it Christmas, but it might be more helpful to call it “The Festival of a God With a Little Skin on ‘Em.”
The message of Christmas is a message of Incarnation. Incarnation is the big, sixty-four-million dollar theological world for “God with a little skin on ‘em.”
And Incarnation, dear friends, is a mind-blowing concept, once you start to really unpack it. God come to earth as a human being. The God who said the way to love and serve God is through loving and serving ourselves and others.
God who is not simply remote, transcendent, far away “other," but God who is as close as your breath. As near as the trees outside your window.
Process Theology has always been very important to me personally, and it was when I first grasped that process theology was saying that God was BOTH transcendent (beyond and removed from all time) AND immanent (a part of all time and space too) that I first understood Christmas...and, frankly, that I first came to realize I could accept the Christian story.
Because the myth, the “Meme,” the Ultimate Reality --whatever word your are comfortable with to describe what is basically a narrative story-- is that God came to earth, and that God continually comes to earth all the time.
Here’s how Frederick Buechner describes it in his great book, “Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC.” (One of my all-time favorite books, btw...) He says:
Friends, this is, at one and the same time, one of the hardest theological truths to understand, and also one of the most profound and most simple. The Christmas story is not about presents. It’s not about red or green bows. It’s not about saccarin Muzak carols in a shopping mall. It’s not about a big family meal.
It’s about God coming to earth as a human being, and about comprehending how beautiful and powerful that truth is. It’s about stepping back and being amazed at this truth....at how incredible and awe-inspiring it is.
God chose to be born in what was, at the time, a quite forgotten and lonely place. God was not born in a penthouse on the Upper West Side. God was born in the equivalent of Guatemala, or Haiti. God was not born to those in power of priviledge. God was born to unwed teen parents, who were more like refugees fleeing Darfur than shoppers hurrying into Neimans.
And my hunch is that the Christian story is told just this way so that we cannot miss the fact that God is born into all parts of our world.
This seems to be the mystery that Mary “gets” as she speaks her lines in the Gospel of Luke:
“...the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
God’s mercy is for those who fear God, from generation to generation.
God has shown strength with God’s arm;
God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
God has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
This is the real message of Christmas, dear friends. And yet, it is so completely foreign from the “cultural Christmas” all around us, that perhaps we even fail to hear it clearly.
As some of you know, sometimes my mind goes strange places. And this week I thought to myself: You know, every year, I get dozens of Christmas cards from friends far and wide. But it struck me that in all the years I have gotten Christmas cards, I have neve ONCE gotten a Christmas card with any of these scriptures from Luke...from Mary.
And so, I began to imagine in my head, a new set of very un-Hallmark like cards, created from the words of Mary.
Here’s what I see...On the outside, a normal average manger scene, bucholic and peaceful.
And on the inside, a greeting like this:
“God has scattered the proud in the imaginations of their hearts.
A Very Merry Christmas to You!”
“God has put down the Mighty and Lifted Up the Lowly
Seasons Greetings!”
“God has filled up the hungry and sent the rich empty away.
Warmest Christmas Blessings!”
Ever once gotten a card like this?
Me neither.
I’d love to, though. Because that’s the true Christmas message.
Now let me say a world about our society and our world. Because good news to the poor --good news to the marginalized-- can sometimes seem like BAD news to folks like us. Even with the economic crisis, we’re doing pretty well, comparitively. Everybody in this room is still among the top percentage of wealthiest people in the world.
So, when we hear this word that God comes to the poor, the lowly, the destitute...it can sounds like bad news to us...bad news FOR us.
But it’s really just good news for EVERYBODY. What the Christmas message says, really, is that there is no meaning to the word “Godforsaken.” There is no PLACE that is “Godforsaken.” There are no PEOPLE who are “Godforsaken.”
You know, Mary’s wonderment is also captured in the beauty of a song and dance that was offered up in our worship at church today. It was the American folk hymn "I Wonder as I Wander."
Folklorist and singer John Jacob Niles allegedly found the short phrases that became the genesis of this song, while in the town of Murphy in Appalachian North Carolina. It was 1933 and Niles attended a fundraising meeting held by evangelicals who had been ordered out of town by the police.
In his unpublished autobiography, he says this about it:
From that fragment, Niles crafted the song we now know. One of the verses goes like this:
"If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing
A star in the sky or a bird on the wing
Or all of God's Angels in heaven to sing
He surely could have it, 'cause he was the King"
You see? Just like Mary, the wonderment of the poor in Appalachia, realizing that God came to earth, not in Kingly form, but among the common folk in a common place.
I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky
Don’t you love the line ”For poor, on’ry people....like you and like I?”
I think it's my favorite.
See, everyday I hang around, and love, a lot of "on'ry people." Cynics. Skeptics. Those who are outright suspicious, or even hostile, toward organized religion (any of them, take your pick. Much less Christianity). That describes a lot of the folks in my church, God love 'em.
And the message of Christmas is that no place, no person, no part of this creation is Godforsaken. The incarnate God --God with a little skin on 'em-- is also born to the on'ry folks too.
Folks like you..like I.
There is an old story I have heard various folks --from conservative preachers to liberal rabbis-- tell. Which probably means it’s a good one. You may have heard this before in a slightly different form...
Once there was a young boy, perhaps four-years-old, afraid of the dark and of “monsters under the bed.” One night, he calls for his Mom in the middle of the night, and shares his fears about it.
They turn on the light. They look under the bed. Much to his relief, there are no monsters.
Moments later, he calls to her again, and she comes running again. He tells her that he is sure there are monsters in the closet. So, they open up the closet, push back the clothes. No monsters.
Sensing that he needs additional reassuring, she reminds him that she is right down the hall, and that he is completely safe.
And, she adds, “Even when Mommy is not with you, God is with you. You can pray to God, and God will help keep you safe.”
She kisses him goodnight, and heads off to bed.
But, the boy stares into the dark, his eyes wide open, thinking now not only of monsters under the bed, but also of Mommy down the hall, and of prayers to God. The boy thinks and thinks. Fnally, he can stand it no more, and so he calls out one more time. “Moommy!!!”
His mother comes running.
“What is it, dear?”
“Mommy,” he says, “I’ve been thinking about this God-thing. I know that I can pray to God. But I think what I need is a God will a little skin on ‘em.”
A God with a little skin on ‘em.
Wouldn’t it be GREAT to worship a “God will a little skin on ‘em?”
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known through the embrace of a child, or the laughter of a wise old man?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God of a mother love’s or father’s hug?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known in the passion of lovers, or the compassion of those serving a meal to the homeless?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known through the use of our senses...our touch, smell, taste, sight...hearing?”
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a God known through music, art, dance, spoken word?
Wouldn’t it be great to worship a “God with a little skin on ‘em?”
Oh...wait...We already do...
I forgot.
Maybe you did too?
You see, dear friends, this IS the message of Christmas. We call it Christmas, but it might be more helpful to call it “The Festival of a God With a Little Skin on ‘Em.”
The message of Christmas is a message of Incarnation. Incarnation is the big, sixty-four-million dollar theological world for “God with a little skin on ‘em.”
And Incarnation, dear friends, is a mind-blowing concept, once you start to really unpack it. God come to earth as a human being. The God who said the way to love and serve God is through loving and serving ourselves and others.
God who is not simply remote, transcendent, far away “other," but God who is as close as your breath. As near as the trees outside your window.
Process Theology has always been very important to me personally, and it was when I first grasped that process theology was saying that God was BOTH transcendent (beyond and removed from all time) AND immanent (a part of all time and space too) that I first understood Christmas...and, frankly, that I first came to realize I could accept the Christian story.
Because the myth, the “Meme,” the Ultimate Reality --whatever word your are comfortable with to describe what is basically a narrative story-- is that God came to earth, and that God continually comes to earth all the time.
Here’s how Frederick Buechner describes it in his great book, “Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC.” (One of my all-time favorite books, btw...) He says:
"The word became flesh," wrote John, "and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14). That is what incarnation means. It is untheological. It is unsophisticated. It is undignified. But according to Christianity, it is the way things are....
All religions and philosophies that deny the reality or the significance of the material, the fleshly, the earthbound, are themselves denied. Moses at the burning bush was told to take off his shoes because the ground on which he stood was holy ground (Exodus 3:5), and incarnation means that all ground is holy ground because God not only made it but walked on it, ate and slept and worked and died on it. If we are saved anywhere, we are saved here. And what is saved is not some diaphanous distillation of our bodies and our earth, but our bodies and our earth themselves...”
One of the blunders religious people are particularly fond of making is the attempt to be more spiritual than God."
Friends, this is, at one and the same time, one of the hardest theological truths to understand, and also one of the most profound and most simple. The Christmas story is not about presents. It’s not about red or green bows. It’s not about saccarin Muzak carols in a shopping mall. It’s not about a big family meal.
It’s about God coming to earth as a human being, and about comprehending how beautiful and powerful that truth is. It’s about stepping back and being amazed at this truth....at how incredible and awe-inspiring it is.
God chose to be born in what was, at the time, a quite forgotten and lonely place. God was not born in a penthouse on the Upper West Side. God was born in the equivalent of Guatemala, or Haiti. God was not born to those in power of priviledge. God was born to unwed teen parents, who were more like refugees fleeing Darfur than shoppers hurrying into Neimans.
And my hunch is that the Christian story is told just this way so that we cannot miss the fact that God is born into all parts of our world.
This seems to be the mystery that Mary “gets” as she speaks her lines in the Gospel of Luke:
“...the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
God’s mercy is for those who fear God, from generation to generation.
God has shown strength with God’s arm;
God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
God has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
This is the real message of Christmas, dear friends. And yet, it is so completely foreign from the “cultural Christmas” all around us, that perhaps we even fail to hear it clearly.
As some of you know, sometimes my mind goes strange places. And this week I thought to myself: You know, every year, I get dozens of Christmas cards from friends far and wide. But it struck me that in all the years I have gotten Christmas cards, I have neve ONCE gotten a Christmas card with any of these scriptures from Luke...from Mary.
And so, I began to imagine in my head, a new set of very un-Hallmark like cards, created from the words of Mary.
Here’s what I see...On the outside, a normal average manger scene, bucholic and peaceful.
And on the inside, a greeting like this:
“God has scattered the proud in the imaginations of their hearts.
A Very Merry Christmas to You!”
“God has put down the Mighty and Lifted Up the Lowly
Seasons Greetings!”
“God has filled up the hungry and sent the rich empty away.
Warmest Christmas Blessings!”
Ever once gotten a card like this?
Me neither.
I’d love to, though. Because that’s the true Christmas message.
Now let me say a world about our society and our world. Because good news to the poor --good news to the marginalized-- can sometimes seem like BAD news to folks like us. Even with the economic crisis, we’re doing pretty well, comparitively. Everybody in this room is still among the top percentage of wealthiest people in the world.
So, when we hear this word that God comes to the poor, the lowly, the destitute...it can sounds like bad news to us...bad news FOR us.
But it’s really just good news for EVERYBODY. What the Christmas message says, really, is that there is no meaning to the word “Godforsaken.” There is no PLACE that is “Godforsaken.” There are no PEOPLE who are “Godforsaken.”
You know, Mary’s wonderment is also captured in the beauty of a song and dance that was offered up in our worship at church today. It was the American folk hymn "I Wonder as I Wander."
Folklorist and singer John Jacob Niles allegedly found the short phrases that became the genesis of this song, while in the town of Murphy in Appalachian North Carolina. It was 1933 and Niles attended a fundraising meeting held by evangelicals who had been ordered out of town by the police.
In his unpublished autobiography, he says this about it:
“A girl had stepped out to the edge of the little platform attached to the automobile. She began to sing. Her clothes were unbelievable dirty and ragged, and she, too, was unwashed. Her ash-blond hair hung down in long skeins.... But, best of all, she was beautiful, and in her untutored way, she could sing. She smiled as she sang, smiled rather sadly, and sang only a single line of a song.”
From that fragment, Niles crafted the song we now know. One of the verses goes like this:
"If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing
A star in the sky or a bird on the wing
Or all of God's Angels in heaven to sing
He surely could have it, 'cause he was the King"
You see? Just like Mary, the wonderment of the poor in Appalachia, realizing that God came to earth, not in Kingly form, but among the common folk in a common place.
I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky
Don’t you love the line ”For poor, on’ry people....like you and like I?”
I think it's my favorite.
See, everyday I hang around, and love, a lot of "on'ry people." Cynics. Skeptics. Those who are outright suspicious, or even hostile, toward organized religion (any of them, take your pick. Much less Christianity). That describes a lot of the folks in my church, God love 'em.
And the message of Christmas is that no place, no person, no part of this creation is Godforsaken. The incarnate God --God with a little skin on 'em-- is also born to the on'ry folks too.
Folks like you..like I.
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Northaven Staff Advent Liturgical Dance
Dec/12/2008 07:19 AM | Permalink
Never let it be said that my staff does not have a
sense of humor...
You may not realize this, but our hard-working Northaven staff has been busy perfecting our first ever musical dance number.
After weeks of practice, we've polished very move, hired a professional director, and cut our first Northaven Staff Music Video.
So, what follows is the World Premier of the "Northaven Staff Advent Liturgical Dance," sent to you with our sincere love, gratitude, and the hope for more smiles throughout these holidays.
If you can't see the player above, click here.
If you are so deeply moved that you'd like to watch again and again, have at the download.
Merry Christmas, and many smiles, to you all,
You may not realize this, but our hard-working Northaven staff has been busy perfecting our first ever musical dance number.
After weeks of practice, we've polished very move, hired a professional director, and cut our first Northaven Staff Music Video.
So, what follows is the World Premier of the "Northaven Staff Advent Liturgical Dance," sent to you with our sincere love, gratitude, and the hope for more smiles throughout these holidays.
Send your own ElfYourself
eCards
If you can't see the player above, click here.
If you are so deeply moved that you'd like to watch again and again, have at the download.
Merry Christmas, and many smiles, to you all,
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A Prayer for President-Elect Obama
Nov/06/2008 09:31 AM | Permalink
Ross Wise is a friend of mine. He and wife Sharon
live in the beautiful East Texas town of Gilmer. I
know Ross because he's a Kerrvert...and even more
intimately than that, he's a "Nasbillian" like me.
But, unlike me, Ross is a Baptist and a Republican. That's why this prayer he's written captured my attention. And I liked it so much, I thought that it worthy to pass along to you too.
But, unlike me, Ross is a Baptist and a Republican. That's why this prayer he's written captured my attention. And I liked it so much, I thought that it worthy to pass along to you too.
Dear Father,
Thank you God for letting us live in a nation where we can choose our leaders. Thank you for a system of free elections where we can vote without fear of molestation by those who rule. Thank you for a system of government that is responsive to the wants and needs of the people. I ask you father to continue to bless this nation with the freedoms our fathers have fought and died for.
Father, please be with president elect Obama, and give him the wisdom, the patience, and the understanding to pursue the most challenging and important job in the world. Let him put away the shackles of partisan politics, and pursue what is best for the American people. Give him an understanding of the unique historic position he occupies in the history of our great nation. Let him be guided by the biblical principles of justice for the afflicted, compassion for the downtrodden, and protection for those who cannot protect themselves.
Father, please be with those who voted for Senator McCain, and let us support president elect Obama to the fullest extent that our consciences allow. We know there will be areas where we do not agree, but let us be civil and respectful in our differences of opinion.
Heal our country. Pull us together. Dissolve any rancor that might exist.
These things I humbly ask in the name of Jesus Christ,
Amen.
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How Jan Sanders Spent All Saints Sunday
Nov/02/2008 11:01 PM | Permalink
Jan Sanders the widow of Judge Barefoot Sanders.
Barefoot, as some will recall, is the legendary
Federal Judge from here in Dallas who died about a
month ago. Northaven has been Jan and Barefoot's
spiritual home for more than three decades, as they
raised a family and served the community, and we were
honored to host his memorial service.
I told this story this morning in church and, because everybody at Northaven Church knows Jan, it got applause. Which makes me think that even though it's late on All Saints Sunday it might be inspiring for others to hear it too.
Judge Sanders, as you may have heard me say elsewhere is one of those truly rare folks who, over the span of a long career, had experience in all three branches of government. He served in the Texas House as a legistator and was a White House counsel for President Lyndon Johnson. President Carter appointed Barefoot Federal Judge here in the Norhtern District of Texas. By the time he retired in his 80s, he was the senior federal judge in this region.
I know of very few human beings who have experience in all three branches of government, or who were as beloved and respected as much as Barefoot.
All along his remarkable life, Jan has been a support and encourager, while also having a very active life in the community. She was by his side when he ran for the Texas House and when he later ran against John Tower. She is an active supporter of the Dallas Peace Center, and many environmental causes. But, because of the role of a federal judge, Jan stayed away from direct politics during the past several decades.
This morning, at church, we celebrated "All Saints Sunday," and we honored Barefoot as we always honor those who have died during the past year. We read his name, lit a candle, and rang the bell. It was a tender, moving moment.
But Jan Sanders was not there. In fact, Jan Sanders is not in Dallas right now.
Jan left for Ohio on Friday, where she is volunteering to "get out the vote" in the greater Cincinnati area.
I talked to Jan before she left, and it was very clear that Ohio is where she needed to be today. When I mentioned this in church this morning, the congregation applauded, and I told them I hoped they would honor this octogenarian with in-person applause upon her return.
Her daughter says she has not yet heard from Jan, which we both agree probably means she's thrown herself into it with her usual passion, and is loving every minute.
Jan and Barefoot are special people to so many. They shared a life of public service for fifty years. There are many different ways to honor a "saint" in our lives on All Saints Sunday. We honored Barefoot by lighting a candle for him this morning.
And in a very real way, Jan honored him too.
I told this story this morning in church and, because everybody at Northaven Church knows Jan, it got applause. Which makes me think that even though it's late on All Saints Sunday it might be inspiring for others to hear it too.
Judge Sanders, as you may have heard me say elsewhere is one of those truly rare folks who, over the span of a long career, had experience in all three branches of government. He served in the Texas House as a legistator and was a White House counsel for President Lyndon Johnson. President Carter appointed Barefoot Federal Judge here in the Norhtern District of Texas. By the time he retired in his 80s, he was the senior federal judge in this region.
I know of very few human beings who have experience in all three branches of government, or who were as beloved and respected as much as Barefoot.
All along his remarkable life, Jan has been a support and encourager, while also having a very active life in the community. She was by his side when he ran for the Texas House and when he later ran against John Tower. She is an active supporter of the Dallas Peace Center, and many environmental causes. But, because of the role of a federal judge, Jan stayed away from direct politics during the past several decades.
This morning, at church, we celebrated "All Saints Sunday," and we honored Barefoot as we always honor those who have died during the past year. We read his name, lit a candle, and rang the bell. It was a tender, moving moment.
But Jan Sanders was not there. In fact, Jan Sanders is not in Dallas right now.
Jan left for Ohio on Friday, where she is volunteering to "get out the vote" in the greater Cincinnati area.
I talked to Jan before she left, and it was very clear that Ohio is where she needed to be today. When I mentioned this in church this morning, the congregation applauded, and I told them I hoped they would honor this octogenarian with in-person applause upon her return.
Her daughter says she has not yet heard from Jan, which we both agree probably means she's thrown herself into it with her usual passion, and is loving every minute.
Jan and Barefoot are special people to so many. They shared a life of public service for fifty years. There are many different ways to honor a "saint" in our lives on All Saints Sunday. We honored Barefoot by lighting a candle for him this morning.
And in a very real way, Jan honored him too.
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Universal health coverage should be the federal
government’s responsibility
Oct/17/2008 10:33 AM | Permalink
This blog is about health care. But it could just as
easily be about the financial crisis, the war, the
environment, education, or any number of social
issues before us today. Because, to my mind, there is
a great confluence among the issues of our day. You
can analyze them through the same lens and come to
the same conclusion each time.
And that conclusion is this: we need change.
And my own personal conviction is: I believe we need change because of what I believe about God.
The title of the blog comes from an episode of a great new NPR show called "Intelligence Squared." The show originally comes from England. Participants engage in an "Oxford Style Debate," for and against a particular motion. Three speakers "for," and three speakers "against."
I picked health care because:
1) It's on a LOT of people's minds, and
2) Because Dr. Kellermann's essay is so good.
What follows after the jump is the speech by Dr. Art Kellermann from that program, and a long essay by me written just this morning.
I remember when the Clinton's first pushed for reform of the health care system. I have no desire to re-fight that war, or debate the merits/flaws of that plan. But I will point out that, back then, most docs were vehemently against that plan.
Today?
Most docs I know are desperately pleading for the system to change. They are drowning in a sea of red tape, forced on them not by the government, but by corporations trying to squeeze out another buck. They are feeling disconnected from their patients and feeling as if they cannot give patients the personalized care they deserve.
Patients are feeling squeezed too. As the Dr. Kellermann's essay so tragically notes, even IF you have health insurance, it is not likely to cover the high costs of a major catastrophic illness. And all the while we spend TRILLIONS on health care each year while our public hospitals teeter on the brink of collapse.
Something is not right.
I personally believe that the flaw in our health care system is that --like everything else in our nation over the past thirty years-- it's been "de-regulated."
When the Clinton plan failed, "we the people" opted for a "system" managed by the "marketplace." We deregulated health care, and left it up to market forces.
Just like we deregulated the energy industry (remember Enron?).
Just like we outsourced FEMA (remember Katrina?).
And just like we've deregulated the Financial Markets (you don't have to remember that one. We're living it.).
Since the time of Ronald Reagan, we have lived in a country ruled primarily by the conservative mantra made famous by the Gipper himself, who once said, "government IS the problem."
The Gipper's friend, Grover Norquist took that logic to its extreme, when he said, "I don't want to kill government, I just want to make it small enough that you could drown it in a bathtub."
I thought of that phrase, as I watched waters stream into New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. During that pitiful governmental response --at the city, state and federal levels-- I thought "well, we finally got the government we deserve."
(That was before the financial crisis, of course...which had done nothing but solidify my views on this.)
This attitude --that government is ALWAYS a "problem," or even that government is "mostly" a problem-- has seeped into our pores and been seared into our cultural DNA.
The logical problem with this attitude is this: there is no "government" outside of us.
WE are the government. WE are the people. The dualistic, and overly simplistic, belief that there are the "good and kind" people of America, and then there are the "evil and lazy" members of government, is simply not true. Everybody IN government is also a part of WE the people. It's a false dichotomy.
And, frankly, it's anti-Christian dichotomy. Christian faith posits that God comes to "dwell among us." This is the "Good News" of Christmas. God come to earth in the form of a human being...not to reject the earth, but to redeem it....to live among us as a human, and to remind us to be God-like in our dealings with each other.
The message of the Christmas story is that there is no place outside of God's love. All creation is a part of God's realm.
Yes, even the government.
Demonizing the government has led to a cynicism about government workers. I hear it from friends who work for FEMA, the FTC, or for any number of government agencies. They hear this criticism that "government IS the problem," and it's seeped into their pores too.
Saying "government is the problem," is a nice, catchy line during a campaign. But it's a cynical and dangerous attitude to have toward the actual government itself. And thirty years of believing in the "god" of the free market has led to immense distrust in government, and the belief that government has little more function than to raise an army and build and road here and there.
This belief has birthed:
-- A failed health care system
-- An outsourced war, costing billions
-- An outsourced FEMA
-- Unmitigated greed on Wall Street
I personally believe health care IS a right and that, because of this, the federal government *does* have a roll. My own convictions about health care come from my Christian faith, where God tells me a society is judged not by how it treats its wealthy and powerful, but by how it treats the powerless and oppressed.
Even the most dictatorial and brutal regimes find a way to coddle their rich. But God says it's how we treat the poor...how we treat those on the margins...how we treat "the least of these" that will determine whether or not our society is great in God's eyes.
I am grateful I got the chance to sit in a Bible study with one of my mentors, Dr. John Holbert, earlier this week, in which he reminded me again how many passages deal with treating the "least among us" fairly.
In Jeremiah, chapter 7, God says this to the people:
You see, the people are judged most by how they treat the "least" among them...the aliens ("legal" or "illegal") the elderly...the orphan.
In fact, in other places, God makes it plain that not only are we to care for such persons, but we are to treat them as if they were a citizen among us. Way back in Exodus, God says this to the people:
Holbert reminded us that the beauty of this command is that the people are challenged to remember that "you were once aliens in Egypt."
Far from an attitude of "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps," God calls us to remember that all of us have benefitted from the hard work of others. None of us are self-made. Our forefathers/mothers worked hard to help us get to where we are today. And for this, we are called to an attitude of grateful sharing.
We don't get to keep what we have, because all things belong to God, and are for the common good. In fact, if we have more it means we have a greater responsibility to share it with those who don't have enough.
This constant theme is repeated so often in the Bible I literally cannot list all the scripture references here. It continues in the New Testament too, where James says this:
Now, of course, in our world the issue of actual widows and actual orphans is not as challenging as it was long ago. But "widows and orphans, aliens and outsiders," exist in many forms.
And it is clear: the Bible assumes, Jesus assumes, that true religion means to love your neighbor as yourself...to treat no one as better or worse that you...and to pay special attention to those who are marginalized in society.
Having said all this, I give you the essay I mentioned before, from Dr. Art Kellermann.
Kellermann is an ER doc at Atlanta's big public hospital (for those in Dallas, think Parkland), and also serves on the staff of Emory's medical school. On the show where this essay first appears, Kellermann speaks for the motion "Universal health coverage should be the federal government’s responsibility."
I first heard this speech while driving home late one night when it was being broadcast on KERA. It was a "driveway moment" for me. I couldn't leave my car until I'd heard the whole thing.
And so, as I offer my own thoughts this morning on the theological basis for providing health care to all, I thought it worth sharing the thoughts of this doctor with you too:
And that conclusion is this: we need change.
And my own personal conviction is: I believe we need change because of what I believe about God.
The title of the blog comes from an episode of a great new NPR show called "Intelligence Squared." The show originally comes from England. Participants engage in an "Oxford Style Debate," for and against a particular motion. Three speakers "for," and three speakers "against."
I picked health care because:
1) It's on a LOT of people's minds, and
2) Because Dr. Kellermann's essay is so good.
What follows after the jump is the speech by Dr. Art Kellermann from that program, and a long essay by me written just this morning.
I remember when the Clinton's first pushed for reform of the health care system. I have no desire to re-fight that war, or debate the merits/flaws of that plan. But I will point out that, back then, most docs were vehemently against that plan.
Today?
Most docs I know are desperately pleading for the system to change. They are drowning in a sea of red tape, forced on them not by the government, but by corporations trying to squeeze out another buck. They are feeling disconnected from their patients and feeling as if they cannot give patients the personalized care they deserve.
Patients are feeling squeezed too. As the Dr. Kellermann's essay so tragically notes, even IF you have health insurance, it is not likely to cover the high costs of a major catastrophic illness. And all the while we spend TRILLIONS on health care each year while our public hospitals teeter on the brink of collapse.
Something is not right.
I personally believe that the flaw in our health care system is that --like everything else in our nation over the past thirty years-- it's been "de-regulated."
When the Clinton plan failed, "we the people" opted for a "system" managed by the "marketplace." We deregulated health care, and left it up to market forces.
Just like we deregulated the energy industry (remember Enron?).
Just like we outsourced FEMA (remember Katrina?).
And just like we've deregulated the Financial Markets (you don't have to remember that one. We're living it.).
Since the time of Ronald Reagan, we have lived in a country ruled primarily by the conservative mantra made famous by the Gipper himself, who once said, "government IS the problem."
The Gipper's friend, Grover Norquist took that logic to its extreme, when he said, "I don't want to kill government, I just want to make it small enough that you could drown it in a bathtub."
I thought of that phrase, as I watched waters stream into New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. During that pitiful governmental response --at the city, state and federal levels-- I thought "well, we finally got the government we deserve."
(That was before the financial crisis, of course...which had done nothing but solidify my views on this.)
This attitude --that government is ALWAYS a "problem," or even that government is "mostly" a problem-- has seeped into our pores and been seared into our cultural DNA.
The logical problem with this attitude is this: there is no "government" outside of us.
WE are the government. WE are the people. The dualistic, and overly simplistic, belief that there are the "good and kind" people of America, and then there are the "evil and lazy" members of government, is simply not true. Everybody IN government is also a part of WE the people. It's a false dichotomy.
And, frankly, it's anti-Christian dichotomy. Christian faith posits that God comes to "dwell among us." This is the "Good News" of Christmas. God come to earth in the form of a human being...not to reject the earth, but to redeem it....to live among us as a human, and to remind us to be God-like in our dealings with each other.
The message of the Christmas story is that there is no place outside of God's love. All creation is a part of God's realm.
Yes, even the government.
Demonizing the government has led to a cynicism about government workers. I hear it from friends who work for FEMA, the FTC, or for any number of government agencies. They hear this criticism that "government IS the problem," and it's seeped into their pores too.
Saying "government is the problem," is a nice, catchy line during a campaign. But it's a cynical and dangerous attitude to have toward the actual government itself. And thirty years of believing in the "god" of the free market has led to immense distrust in government, and the belief that government has little more function than to raise an army and build and road here and there.
This belief has birthed:
-- A failed health care system
-- An outsourced war, costing billions
-- An outsourced FEMA
-- Unmitigated greed on Wall Street
I personally believe health care IS a right and that, because of this, the federal government *does* have a roll. My own convictions about health care come from my Christian faith, where God tells me a society is judged not by how it treats its wealthy and powerful, but by how it treats the powerless and oppressed.
Even the most dictatorial and brutal regimes find a way to coddle their rich. But God says it's how we treat the poor...how we treat those on the margins...how we treat "the least of these" that will determine whether or not our society is great in God's eyes.
I am grateful I got the chance to sit in a Bible study with one of my mentors, Dr. John Holbert, earlier this week, in which he reminded me again how many passages deal with treating the "least among us" fairly.
In Jeremiah, chapter 7, God says this to the people:
"If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly, if you do not oppress the alien, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm, then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your forefathers for ever and ever."
You see, the people are judged most by how they treat the "least" among them...the aliens ("legal" or "illegal") the elderly...the orphan.
In fact, in other places, God makes it plain that not only are we to care for such persons, but we are to treat them as if they were a citizen among us. Way back in Exodus, God says this to the people:
"Do not mistreat an alien or oppress him, for you were aliens in Egypt. Do not take advantage of a widow or an orphan. If you do and they cry out to me, I will certainly hear their cry. My anger will be aroused, and I will kill you with the sword; your wives will become widows and your children fatherless."
Holbert reminded us that the beauty of this command is that the people are challenged to remember that "you were once aliens in Egypt."
Far from an attitude of "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps," God calls us to remember that all of us have benefitted from the hard work of others. None of us are self-made. Our forefathers/mothers worked hard to help us get to where we are today. And for this, we are called to an attitude of grateful sharing.
We don't get to keep what we have, because all things belong to God, and are for the common good. In fact, if we have more it means we have a greater responsibility to share it with those who don't have enough.
This constant theme is repeated so often in the Bible I literally cannot list all the scripture references here. It continues in the New Testament too, where James says this:
"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."
Now, of course, in our world the issue of actual widows and actual orphans is not as challenging as it was long ago. But "widows and orphans, aliens and outsiders," exist in many forms.
And it is clear: the Bible assumes, Jesus assumes, that true religion means to love your neighbor as yourself...to treat no one as better or worse that you...and to pay special attention to those who are marginalized in society.
Having said all this, I give you the essay I mentioned before, from Dr. Art Kellermann.
Kellermann is an ER doc at Atlanta's big public hospital (for those in Dallas, think Parkland), and also serves on the staff of Emory's medical school. On the show where this essay first appears, Kellermann speaks for the motion "Universal health coverage should be the federal government’s responsibility."
I first heard this speech while driving home late one night when it was being broadcast on KERA. It was a "driveway moment" for me. I couldn't leave my car until I'd heard the whole thing.
And so, as I offer my own thoughts this morning on the theological basis for providing health care to all, I thought it worth sharing the thoughts of this doctor with you too:
Thank you. Actually, I'm not a surgeon, I am just an ER doc, and I don’t have the distinguished background of my fellow panelists, but I have treated thousands of patients, insured and uninsured, and I’ve also broken bad news to hundreds of families. I want to tell you about one of them that I’ll never forget. It took them two hours to reach Atlanta from the north Georgia mountains. I faced them across the outstretched body of their son. The ventilator hissed rhythmically, ten breaths per minute. I spoke first.
"Your son was in a terrible crash," I said. "The ambulance crew could tell he was severely injured and called a helicopter.
He reached us about three hours ago. He has several injuries, a collapsed lung, internal bleeding, but these aren't his most
serious problem. His brain injury worries us the most."
That’s when his mother interrupted me. She said, "doctor, I don't know how to ask you this, but I must. My husband lost his job six weeks ago, I work, but my employer doesn't offer health insurance. Is my son going to get the care he needs?"
Momentarily taken aback, I replied, "ma'am, you're at Grady Hospital, one of the finest trauma centers in the south, I swear to you, we will do everything in our power to save your son."
I meant what I said that night, but I didn't tell her the whole truth. I didn't tell her that our best probably wouldn't be good enough, and that if her son survived he’d probably be disabled for the rest of his life. I didn't tell her that she and her husband would be billed for the helicopter flight, and the days or weeks to come in the intensive care unit, and that the total would probably reach a hundred thousand dollars, maybe a whole lot more. I didn't tell her that she and her husband would empty their savings and mortgage their home in an effort to pay the bill, and that it wouldn't be enough. And that the coins put in a coffee can at the local diner wouldn't come close to covering the difference.
I didn't tell her that the unpaid balance of her son’s bill will push Grady hospital closer to insolvency, closer to its own crash, and if Grady closes, north Georgia, a region of more than five million people, will lose its only level one trauma center, its only burn unit, its only poison control center, its only emergency psychiatric unit, and seven hundred and fifty inpatient beds. And that’s not all. If Grady closes, metro Atlanta’s private hospitals, already overburdened by population growth, will topple like dominos one after another.
Ladies and gentleman, for me this debate is not an idle intellectual exercise, it’s about lives. Three hundred million American lives. I support this resolution for three reasons. First, because our failure to cover every American is a national disgrace. Second, because we’ll never achieve universal coverage if we don’t make health care in this country more affordable. And third, because the only way we can make health care more affordable and cover everyone is through a well-regulated health care marketplace, and to do that the Federal Government must be involved.
Now let me be clear, the majority of Americans do not want a government-only health care system, but they absolutely want the government involved, as a referee, as a cop, to make sure that everybody plays by the rules. The other side of this debate will try to convince you that rising health care costs are due to government interference. Well, they’ve got it backwards. The problem is not government interference with the health care industry, the problem today is health care industry interference with government. That’s why the business of medicine is booming. Record profits, huge executive salaries, bonuses, health care costs spiraling out of control year after year after year.
But the caring side of medicine is failing. On the front lines, doctors, nurses, and other health care professionals are nearly as frustrated as you are. The nation-wide crisis in emergency care is a case in point. Every major challenge we face, ER’s packed with patients, dangerously long waits to be seen, a half million ambulances a year turned away to more distant hospitals, and fewer specialists than ever willing to take ER call. All of them are due to the fact that the economics of health care encourage hospitals to favor elective cases over emergency cases. Good for business, bad for patients.
And it’s terribly expensive. Country music star Dolly Parton once quipped, "you have no idea how much it costs to look this cheap." [LAUGHTER] The same can be said about American health care. You have no idea how much it costs to run this poorly. We spend two trillion dollars a year on health care, and a trillion dollars is a lot of money. Put this in perspective, a million seconds ago was last week. A billion seconds ago Jimmy Carter was inaugurated president. A trillion seconds ago was thirty thousand BC. For two trillion dollars we can take good care of everybody in this country and have a lot left over, and you don’t have to look outside the US for proof.
If everybody practiced medicine as efficiently as they do in Rochester, Minnesota and Salt Lake City, Utah, Medicare could pay thirty percent less to doctors and hospitals, and everybody would get better care. But it won't happen on its own, because one person’s waste is another person’s revenue stream. That's why we need a cop on the beat, and the only cop with the clout to get the health care industry to play by the rules is the federal government. My side has given you several reasons to vote for tonight’s resolution, but the most compelling one of all is your own self interest, because a health care system that doesn't work for everyone may not work for you when the chips are down.
Take it from me, an ER doc, no one can predict when a life threatening emergency may strike, but if it does, you’ll want your hospital to go the extra mile, not your ambulance.
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A Photo History of Community Organizers
Sep/06/2008 07:15 PM | Permalink
Wow. The repost of
my
little blog,
expanding on Jim Wallis' original ideas, has been
burning up the wires over at DailyKos this
afternoon. It spent a better part of the afternoon
as the top "recommended" journal, and is on the
way to having 400 comments.
Wow. This issue clearly touches a button. I certainly do not agree with every comment, and find some of them offensive in language and tone. But it's interesting to see the passion there. Take a look.
I think this "dissing" of Community Organizers and their "responsibilities" is going to backfire...but that's my hunch.
In the midst of the many comments was one from Beverly, about her own diary, entitled "A Photo History of Community Organizers."
It's worth a quick read. Or, enjoy the video version beyond the jump, which has the benefit of a sweet U2 soundtrack:
Wow. This issue clearly touches a button. I certainly do not agree with every comment, and find some of them offensive in language and tone. But it's interesting to see the passion there. Take a look.
I think this "dissing" of Community Organizers and their "responsibilities" is going to backfire...but that's my hunch.
In the midst of the many comments was one from Beverly, about her own diary, entitled "A Photo History of Community Organizers."
It's worth a quick read. Or, enjoy the video version beyond the jump, which has the benefit of a sweet U2 soundtrack:
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Sarah Palin Owes Some Good People an Apology
Sep/06/2008 09:10 AM | Permalink
I've been bothered by a snippy comment from Sarah
Palin's speech the other night, and have wanted to
write about it. But Jim Wallis beat me to it. So,
this morning, I will simply cite a few of the
highlights of his fine blog --whose title I have
borrowed as the title of this one-- and direct you to
it, in the hopes you'll read it too.
More than anything else, Palin's comments have opened up an opportunity to remind the nation of just how important "Community Organizers" have become, just how connected they are to faith communities, and just how much "responsibility" they really do shoulder for the rest of our society.
Jim Wallis, as you may remember, is the well-respected head of the Sojourner's Community, and the author of great books like "God's Politics: Why the Right is Wrong, and the Left Doesn't Get It."
So, if you don't already know Jim, just note from the beginning that he's often an equal-opportunity critic of politicians across the spectrum.
Here's Wallis' original post, found at his Beliefnet.com blog.
Wallis starts by juxtaposing two things that happened to him on Wednesday. First, he heard from a former Sojourner's community member, who is now a community organizer in Louisiana. During that phone call, Wallis heard how...
As I've mentioned before, we've taken three mission trips to the Gulf Coast the past three summers. And every time, we were certainly aided by "community organizers" who work side-by-side local residents to assess damage, to prioritize clean up and repair work, and buy materials and supplies. They have labored in what was first an emergency situation, trying to deploy resources to places with no food, water and electricity. They have seen that situation morph from rescue to clean up...from clean up to repair.
And now that the news media and the most Americans have ignored the Gulf Coast for about the last year (Gustav put an end to that...) they have gone the most difficult job of all: keeping the focus on the work that still needs to be done, making sure that the families still living in trailers will finally get back in their houses.
Without them, the great volunteer surge that has blessed the Gulf Coast could never have happened.
So, the first thing that happened was that Wallis talked to this friend and heard how "community organizers" had changed their focus yet again: they'd moved back into crisis mode, helping displaces persons evacuate.
Then, like all of us that night, Jim Wallis heard Sarah Palin say this line, one that she has repeated with glee the past few days:
"...a small-town mayor is sort of like a community organizer, except that you have actual responsibilities."
To which Wallis certainly speaks for me when he says:
Wallis points out what many of us in the church have known, and appreciated, for years:
Wallis then quotes several of the folks he's heard from the past few days. Including, this Bishop from the Church of God in Christ. And, just so nobody thinks this is partisan, note the guy's party affiliation:
Down on Interstate 10, right at the border of Mississippi and Louisiana, a memorial is being planned. It is perhaps one of the most unique memorials I've ever heard of, and it's called "The Katrina Volunteers Memorial Fountain."
The memorial is planned to honor...
I have never heard of anything like this. It's a beautiful gesture of gratitude, dedicated to all those who literally saved the Gulf Coast. As we have heard on our trips these past few years, everyone on the Gulf Coast acknowledges the importance of the non-governmental help they have received, and the generous outpouring that's occurred there.
Friends, behind every volunteer who came, there was the work of a community organizer. Working for hundreds of non-profits and "NGOs," they have provided the structures that have made the volunteer work possible.
Ironically, because their "staffs" are so often hordes of untrained volunteers, community organizers have to be simultaneously more organized, and more flexible...more structured, and more responsive...than government officials (like, say, a small town mayor) ever could be.
That's why volunteers, and their community organizer leaders, were so effective in responding to Hurricane Katrina. That's why the residents there are so grateful that they're building a memorial in their honor.
And that's why whether it's Gustav, Hanna, Ike, or the next one, they'll be there again...laboring with little fanfare or accolade...providing services, working with local people at the most local and basic levels, and living out their very real "responsibilities."
As he's very good at doing, Jim Wallis concludes by bringing our attention back to the most needy in our society: the poor. Wallis points out that no one in America, including politicians, does more directly for the poor, than community organizers.
Couldn't have said it better myself.
Thank God Jim Wallis did.
More than anything else, Palin's comments have opened up an opportunity to remind the nation of just how important "Community Organizers" have become, just how connected they are to faith communities, and just how much "responsibility" they really do shoulder for the rest of our society.
Jim Wallis, as you may remember, is the well-respected head of the Sojourner's Community, and the author of great books like "God's Politics: Why the Right is Wrong, and the Left Doesn't Get It."
So, if you don't already know Jim, just note from the beginning that he's often an equal-opportunity critic of politicians across the spectrum.
Here's Wallis' original post, found at his Beliefnet.com blog.
Wallis starts by juxtaposing two things that happened to him on Wednesday. First, he heard from a former Sojourner's community member, who is now a community organizer in Louisiana. During that phone call, Wallis heard how...
"...their community organizers were responding to all of this -- responding to hundreds of service calls, assisting local officials in evacuation plans, aiding evacuees without transportation, coordinating shelters and opening new ones, providing food, essential services, and financial aid to those in most need. Since Katrina, Perry's Louisiana interfaith organizations have played a lead role in securing millions of dollars to help thousands of families return to New Orleans and rebuild their homes and their lives."
As I've mentioned before, we've taken three mission trips to the Gulf Coast the past three summers. And every time, we were certainly aided by "community organizers" who work side-by-side local residents to assess damage, to prioritize clean up and repair work, and buy materials and supplies. They have labored in what was first an emergency situation, trying to deploy resources to places with no food, water and electricity. They have seen that situation morph from rescue to clean up...from clean up to repair.
And now that the news media and the most Americans have ignored the Gulf Coast for about the last year (Gustav put an end to that...) they have gone the most difficult job of all: keeping the focus on the work that still needs to be done, making sure that the families still living in trailers will finally get back in their houses.
Without them, the great volunteer surge that has blessed the Gulf Coast could never have happened.
So, the first thing that happened was that Wallis talked to this friend and heard how "community organizers" had changed their focus yet again: they'd moved back into crisis mode, helping displaces persons evacuate.
Then, like all of us that night, Jim Wallis heard Sarah Palin say this line, one that she has repeated with glee the past few days:
"...a small-town mayor is sort of like a community organizer, except that you have actual responsibilities."
To which Wallis certainly speaks for me when he says:
"The convention crowd in St. Paul thought that was very funny. But it wasn't. It was actually quite insulting to the army of community organizers who work in the most challenging places across the country and have such a tremendous impact on the everyday lives of millions of people. I guess Palin and her fellow Republican delegates don't know much about that. The "actual responsibilities" of community organizers literally provide the practical support, collective strength, and hope for a better future that low-income families need to survive."
Wallis points out what many of us in the church have known, and appreciated, for years:
"Community organizers are now most focused in the faith community, working with tens of thousands of pastors and laypeople in thousands of congregations around the country. Faith-based organizing is the critical factor in many low-income communities in the country's poorest urban and rural areas, and church leaders are often the biggest supporters of community organizers."
Wallis then quotes several of the folks he's heard from the past few days. Including, this Bishop from the Church of God in Christ. And, just so nobody thinks this is partisan, note the guy's party affiliation:
"As a lifelong Republican, the comments I heard last night about community organizing crossed the line. It is one thing to question someone's experience, another to demean the work of millions of hardworking Americans who take time to get involved in their communities. When people come together in my church hall to improve our community, they're building the Kingdom of God in San Diego. We see the fruits of community organizing in safer streets, new parks, and new affordable housing. It's the spirit of democracy for people to have a say and we need more of it," Bishop Roy Dixon, prelate of the Southern California 4th ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the Church of God in Christ"
Down on Interstate 10, right at the border of Mississippi and Louisiana, a memorial is being planned. It is perhaps one of the most unique memorials I've ever heard of, and it's called "The Katrina Volunteers Memorial Fountain."
The memorial is planned to honor...
"...all the volunteers, named and unnamed, who risked their own livelihoods to help recover our own. When we were down, they were there for us—coming by the thousands from every state of the Union and many foreign countries as well. They still continue to come surrendering spring breaks, vacations, retirement time and even suspending businesses, careers, and investment ventures."
I have never heard of anything like this. It's a beautiful gesture of gratitude, dedicated to all those who literally saved the Gulf Coast. As we have heard on our trips these past few years, everyone on the Gulf Coast acknowledges the importance of the non-governmental help they have received, and the generous outpouring that's occurred there.
Friends, behind every volunteer who came, there was the work of a community organizer. Working for hundreds of non-profits and "NGOs," they have provided the structures that have made the volunteer work possible.
Ironically, because their "staffs" are so often hordes of untrained volunteers, community organizers have to be simultaneously more organized, and more flexible...more structured, and more responsive...than government officials (like, say, a small town mayor) ever could be.
That's why volunteers, and their community organizer leaders, were so effective in responding to Hurricane Katrina. That's why the residents there are so grateful that they're building a memorial in their honor.
And that's why whether it's Gustav, Hanna, Ike, or the next one, they'll be there again...laboring with little fanfare or accolade...providing services, working with local people at the most local and basic levels, and living out their very real "responsibilities."
As he's very good at doing, Jim Wallis concludes by bringing our attention back to the most needy in our society: the poor. Wallis points out that no one in America, including politicians, does more directly for the poor, than community organizers.
"And when you put the accomplishments of politicians alongside those of community organizers for poor families, it isn't even close. Without the pressure from community organizers and the movements they lead, there would often be nobody to hold politicians accountable."
"Palin's effort to attack the experience of Barack Obama, a former community organizer in Chicago, turned into a bad joke and an insult. Palin owes a lot of good people an apology."
Couldn't have said it better myself.
Thank God Jim Wallis did.
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Would it be Wrong to Pray for Rain?
Sep/01/2008 05:02 PM | Permalink
I posted the video that inspired this question to my
Facebook page, and it got a couple of nice comments.
So I thought I'd expand my thinking on it into a blog
entry.
The question for this blog is: Would it be wrong to pray for rain?
The answer is: it depends, I suppose.
If you're a West Texas rancher, and you're in the middle of a long drought, then it's probably an understandable petition to God.
If you're allegedly a Christian minister, and you're clearly wishing for God to, ahem, rain down judgement on your adversaries, then the answer is:
"Yes....it's wrong to pray for rain."
And I know that second example sounds crazy. But it happened just a few weeks back, when a member of "Focus on the Family" actually encouraged people to pray for rain on the night of Obama's acceptance speech.
Like I said, I had heard about this in conversation. But to see the video? It's amazing. And deserves further unpacking.
The guy in this video is Stuart Shepherd who, from what I can tell, is some kind of functionary at "Focus on the Family."
This video is not cute. It's not innocuous. It's not harmless.
This video borders on being evil propaganda. It's put forth in a folksy, passive-aggressive voice. But it's propaganda nonetheless.
You've got to look beyond his "sweet" tone here. (He's a mild mannered ministers here, right? What could be wrong with him?)
The problem is the underlying, and completely non-Christian belief, that God will run errands for you, smiting your enemies if only you ask.
Let me say this in as non-passive-aggressive a tone as I can:
There is nothing Christian about this belief. In fact, it is anti-Christian.
God does not run errands for us. God does not create cosmic Voodoo dolls based on the shapes of our prayers. God does not wish to, or actually, reign evil down upon those with whom we disagree. To suggest otherwise --especially through a video that suggests widespread meteorological havoc on innocent people-- goes against every idea of a good, merciful and loving God.
This, of course, is not the first time that errand boys for the Religious Right have made such associations. Remember after September 11th? Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell basically claimed that 911 was God's wrath because of feminists, gays/lesbians, liberals, and the like.
Nonsense.
Again, this isn't just wrongheaded, logically. It is, quite literally, anti-Christian. And I can show you the scriptures to prove it.
In the Gospels, Jesus speaks to this very issue of horrible natural calamities inflicted on innocent people. In fact, he does it twice:
Jesus is referring to a incident in which Galileans were offering sacrifice to God. This incident probably did *not* take place at the Temple in Jerusalem. It's probably something that happened at a non-orthodox shrine somewhere in Galilee. What happens is that, right in the midst of their religious celebration, Pontius Pilate comes in and slaughters them all. The blood of the sacrificed animals mingles with the blood of the people.
It's a horrible scene.
It's the kind of scene that often causes people to ask:
Why would this happen?
Did God let this happen?
Is this a punishment from God?
In the face of senseless tragedy, we often yearn for reasons. And we often turn to the belief that the people involved must have done something wrong. If there is fault, it must be their own.
So, the first thing to keep in the front of your brain is that, to Jesus' audience that day, these Galileans would have been religious enemies. If not enemies, then at least rivals. Jesus' audience probably considered them infidels.
Jesus clearly would have known this. And so you then have to assume he uses them as examples on purpose. Because, if God's going rein down terror on anyone, then surely it would be to our enemies, right?
But Jesus clearly says NO.
No, God did not cause Pontius Pilate to slaughter these Galileans.
No, that's not how God works.
On another day, Jesus is in the presence of a blind person. His own disciples fall into the way of thinking that somebody must have sinned for bad things to happen. They ask Jesus: "Who sinned, the blind man or his parents?"
These religious leaders clear assume somebody must have.
Jesus' answer?
NOBODY. Nobody sinned. Nobody did anything to cause the person to be blind.
So, the first thing we can clearly say is that God does not bring evil things upon others just because we pray for them or want them.
It did not rain the night of Obama's speech. And, even it had, God would not have caused that just to ruin Obama's party.
I mean, think about it for a moment: Shepherd really expected God to rain down a flood on Denver, possibly harming millions of innocent people, just to make a point about Obama?
Ludicrous.
And, as I've said, anti-Christian.
There are numerous examples in the Bible of how God does NOT answer these kinds of prayers. In fact, the most salient example comes from the Book of Jonah, at the very end of the story.
At the end of that story, Jonah is ticked off. Dare I say? He's pissed. He's done everything God asked him to do, and brought a word of judgement against the City of Nineveh.
He has done none of it willingly. This most unwilling prophet ever has tried to run the other direction, commit suicide, and under-sell his message, all just to get out of doing what God has asked him to do.
But he finally capitulates and delivers the message, expecting (perhaps even hoping?) that the result will be a fire and brimstone bonanza.
Instead, the people of Nineveh repent and God forgives them.
Jonah somehow believes he deserves a good fire and brimstone reward. Because he delivered his message, he deserves to see a little destruction and death. And, as he reveals in the story, he secretly knows God is a softie who wanted to forgive the people all along. So, he's pissed.
Finally, as the story's end, God takes Jonah to task for being more concerned with a dying bush than with the lives of the people of Nineveh.
The point to it all: God does not rain down judgement on others, just because we hope for it, or pray for it.
I am most fascinated that Shepherd's request is so specific. When he asks for rain, he says: "Not flood people out of their houses rain. Just swamp-the-intersections rain..."
So, not only is he praying for disaster to strike his enemies, he's also praying for very specific disaster.
But there's is an old spiritual expression about prayer: Be careful what you pray for, because you just might get it.
I happen to believe in the power of prayer. But I also happen to believe prayer is not a cosmic slot machine for the things we want, or a mafia enforcer for the things we hate. The things we pray for may happen. But they often happen in God's good time, and with perhaps quite different detail than we might have wanted or expected.
Pray for rain, and you might get far more than small street flooding. You might get tornados or wind sheer.
Be careful what you pray for, because you just might get it.
Jesus actually mentioned something about this too. He once reminded us that God sends rain on the just and on the unjust. There's really no way to pray for specifically targeted natural disasters.
Of course, what happened to Stuart Shepherd is that God apparently did not listen to his prayers at all. And I could have told you ahead of time that, even if it had rained that night --had it not been the spotless 65 degree evening that it was-- God would not have been the cause, simply to ruin Obama's night.
This weekend, I have heard some commenting about Gustav, and some glee about the fact that it's making land as the Republican Convention kicks off. And, in fact, Hanna will probably make land about the time that meeting ends.Two hurricanes, book-ending that convention!!!
Wow!
I know enough to know that there is a small place inside the hearts of many of my friends that might think: "Ha! They get what they deserve. They prayed to God for rain on Obama, and got two hurricanes for McCain."
So, let me speak to that too, and remind you of everything I have just said: God doesn't send such stuff to punish anyone. I can't imagine that even IF God is terribly angry at the Republican Party, that God would punish Aunt Joyce in Gulfport....or Dave Thomas and his family in Biloxi. Or all the good people I mentioned in this blog entry.
Even if you see surface irony here, to believes such things makes you no better than Stuart Shepherd.
Speaking of Shepherd, you might think that he's not really wishing ill on his "enemies," or that he's just joking about it. But, that's not what he himself says near the end. Near the very end, he finally comes out and says it:
"But if God decides --and it's always up to God to decide-- that rain of Biblical proportions would be a good and proper meteorological condition for that evening....we'll see it, and we'll say that 'It is good.'"
It is good?
It is good to pray for harm to come to your enemies? Really?
Jeez, Stuart. You read that Bible much? Or are you too busy making videos?
Because the Jesus I know would totally disagree with you. And, of all the things you say in this video, this is the easiest to disprove.
Jesus doesn't say we are to pray evil upon our enemies. Jesus encourages us to pray kindness toward them. Right here. Here's the text and link so you can look it up yourself:
See? Praying for evil to come to our enemies is actually un-Christian.
In fact, Jesus says, non-believers do that. People of faith should love their enemies, and pray for, not against, those who persecute them. It's an incredibly hard and challenging thing to do --perhaps among the most challenging of all Jesus' commands-- but it's Jesus' way.
So, in sum, I can't presume to know the kind of god you are describing in this video, Stuart Shepherd.
But I know, pretty definitely, it's not Jesus.
The question for this blog is: Would it be wrong to pray for rain?
The answer is: it depends, I suppose.
If you're a West Texas rancher, and you're in the middle of a long drought, then it's probably an understandable petition to God.
If you're allegedly a Christian minister, and you're clearly wishing for God to, ahem, rain down judgement on your adversaries, then the answer is:
"Yes....it's wrong to pray for rain."
And I know that second example sounds crazy. But it happened just a few weeks back, when a member of "Focus on the Family" actually encouraged people to pray for rain on the night of Obama's acceptance speech.
Like I said, I had heard about this in conversation. But to see the video? It's amazing. And deserves further unpacking.
The guy in this video is Stuart Shepherd who, from what I can tell, is some kind of functionary at "Focus on the Family."
This video is not cute. It's not innocuous. It's not harmless.
This video borders on being evil propaganda. It's put forth in a folksy, passive-aggressive voice. But it's propaganda nonetheless.
You've got to look beyond his "sweet" tone here. (He's a mild mannered ministers here, right? What could be wrong with him?)
The problem is the underlying, and completely non-Christian belief, that God will run errands for you, smiting your enemies if only you ask.
Let me say this in as non-passive-aggressive a tone as I can:
There is nothing Christian about this belief. In fact, it is anti-Christian.
God does not run errands for us. God does not create cosmic Voodoo dolls based on the shapes of our prayers. God does not wish to, or actually, reign evil down upon those with whom we disagree. To suggest otherwise --especially through a video that suggests widespread meteorological havoc on innocent people-- goes against every idea of a good, merciful and loving God.
This, of course, is not the first time that errand boys for the Religious Right have made such associations. Remember after September 11th? Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell basically claimed that 911 was God's wrath because of feminists, gays/lesbians, liberals, and the like.
Nonsense.
Again, this isn't just wrongheaded, logically. It is, quite literally, anti-Christian. And I can show you the scriptures to prove it.
In the Gospels, Jesus speaks to this very issue of horrible natural calamities inflicted on innocent people. In fact, he does it twice:
Luke 13: 1-3
"At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you..."
Jesus is referring to a incident in which Galileans were offering sacrifice to God. This incident probably did *not* take place at the Temple in Jerusalem. It's probably something that happened at a non-orthodox shrine somewhere in Galilee. What happens is that, right in the midst of their religious celebration, Pontius Pilate comes in and slaughters them all. The blood of the sacrificed animals mingles with the blood of the people.
It's a horrible scene.
It's the kind of scene that often causes people to ask:
Why would this happen?
Did God let this happen?
Is this a punishment from God?
In the face of senseless tragedy, we often yearn for reasons. And we often turn to the belief that the people involved must have done something wrong. If there is fault, it must be their own.
So, the first thing to keep in the front of your brain is that, to Jesus' audience that day, these Galileans would have been religious enemies. If not enemies, then at least rivals. Jesus' audience probably considered them infidels.
Jesus clearly would have known this. And so you then have to assume he uses them as examples on purpose. Because, if God's going rein down terror on anyone, then surely it would be to our enemies, right?
But Jesus clearly says NO.
No, God did not cause Pontius Pilate to slaughter these Galileans.
No, that's not how God works.
On another day, Jesus is in the presence of a blind person. His own disciples fall into the way of thinking that somebody must have sinned for bad things to happen. They ask Jesus: "Who sinned, the blind man or his parents?"
These religious leaders clear assume somebody must have.
Jesus' answer?
NOBODY. Nobody sinned. Nobody did anything to cause the person to be blind.
So, the first thing we can clearly say is that God does not bring evil things upon others just because we pray for them or want them.
It did not rain the night of Obama's speech. And, even it had, God would not have caused that just to ruin Obama's party.
I mean, think about it for a moment: Shepherd really expected God to rain down a flood on Denver, possibly harming millions of innocent people, just to make a point about Obama?
Ludicrous.
And, as I've said, anti-Christian.
There are numerous examples in the Bible of how God does NOT answer these kinds of prayers. In fact, the most salient example comes from the Book of Jonah, at the very end of the story.
At the end of that story, Jonah is ticked off. Dare I say? He's pissed. He's done everything God asked him to do, and brought a word of judgement against the City of Nineveh.
He has done none of it willingly. This most unwilling prophet ever has tried to run the other direction, commit suicide, and under-sell his message, all just to get out of doing what God has asked him to do.
But he finally capitulates and delivers the message, expecting (perhaps even hoping?) that the result will be a fire and brimstone bonanza.
Instead, the people of Nineveh repent and God forgives them.
Jonah somehow believes he deserves a good fire and brimstone reward. Because he delivered his message, he deserves to see a little destruction and death. And, as he reveals in the story, he secretly knows God is a softie who wanted to forgive the people all along. So, he's pissed.
Finally, as the story's end, God takes Jonah to task for being more concerned with a dying bush than with the lives of the people of Nineveh.
The point to it all: God does not rain down judgement on others, just because we hope for it, or pray for it.
I am most fascinated that Shepherd's request is so specific. When he asks for rain, he says: "Not flood people out of their houses rain. Just swamp-the-intersections rain..."
So, not only is he praying for disaster to strike his enemies, he's also praying for very specific disaster.
But there's is an old spiritual expression about prayer: Be careful what you pray for, because you just might get it.
I happen to believe in the power of prayer. But I also happen to believe prayer is not a cosmic slot machine for the things we want, or a mafia enforcer for the things we hate. The things we pray for may happen. But they often happen in God's good time, and with perhaps quite different detail than we might have wanted or expected.
Pray for rain, and you might get far more than small street flooding. You might get tornados or wind sheer.
Be careful what you pray for, because you just might get it.
Jesus actually mentioned something about this too. He once reminded us that God sends rain on the just and on the unjust. There's really no way to pray for specifically targeted natural disasters.
Of course, what happened to Stuart Shepherd is that God apparently did not listen to his prayers at all. And I could have told you ahead of time that, even if it had rained that night --had it not been the spotless 65 degree evening that it was-- God would not have been the cause, simply to ruin Obama's night.
This weekend, I have heard some commenting about Gustav, and some glee about the fact that it's making land as the Republican Convention kicks off. And, in fact, Hanna will probably make land about the time that meeting ends.Two hurricanes, book-ending that convention!!!
Wow!
I know enough to know that there is a small place inside the hearts of many of my friends that might think: "Ha! They get what they deserve. They prayed to God for rain on Obama, and got two hurricanes for McCain."
So, let me speak to that too, and remind you of everything I have just said: God doesn't send such stuff to punish anyone. I can't imagine that even IF God is terribly angry at the Republican Party, that God would punish Aunt Joyce in Gulfport....or Dave Thomas and his family in Biloxi. Or all the good people I mentioned in this blog entry.
Even if you see surface irony here, to believes such things makes you no better than Stuart Shepherd.
Speaking of Shepherd, you might think that he's not really wishing ill on his "enemies," or that he's just joking about it. But, that's not what he himself says near the end. Near the very end, he finally comes out and says it:
"But if God decides --and it's always up to God to decide-- that rain of Biblical proportions would be a good and proper meteorological condition for that evening....we'll see it, and we'll say that 'It is good.'"
It is good?
It is good to pray for harm to come to your enemies? Really?
Jeez, Stuart. You read that Bible much? Or are you too busy making videos?
Because the Jesus I know would totally disagree with you. And, of all the things you say in this video, this is the easiest to disprove.
Jesus doesn't say we are to pray evil upon our enemies. Jesus encourages us to pray kindness toward them. Right here. Here's the text and link so you can look it up yourself:
Matthew 5: 43-48:
"“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."
See? Praying for evil to come to our enemies is actually un-Christian.
In fact, Jesus says, non-believers do that. People of faith should love their enemies, and pray for, not against, those who persecute them. It's an incredibly hard and challenging thing to do --perhaps among the most challenging of all Jesus' commands-- but it's Jesus' way.
So, in sum, I can't presume to know the kind of god you are describing in this video, Stuart Shepherd.
But I know, pretty definitely, it's not Jesus.
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Heartsick for NOLA and the Gulf Coast
Aug/31/2008 10:11 PM | Permalink
I'm heartsick tonight.
Watching the ominous sight of Gustav, and knowing what I know about NOLA and all of the Gulf Coast?
It's just heartbreaking.
The past three summers, we've taken our mission trips to the Biloxi/Gulfport area. I know I speak for many in our church when I say that we've fallen in love with the people there. They have such good hearts, and are the kind of solid folks anyone would be proud to get to know.
Tonight, I am thinking about them. I am praying for all of them. And I am asking you to pray too. What I have learned in the last three years along the Gulf Coast is that everyone there has a story about the storm. Everyone. You hear stories form waitresses and hotel clerks. Tonight, I feel like sharing a few of the stories I know best, so perhaps you can put a face with your prayers.
---------------
I am thinking/praying about Jane Carroll, Ms. Day, and Aunt Joyce. Aunt Joyce is the actual aunt of one of our members. She'd never met Ms. Carroll --an African-American woman who lived blocks from her-- before our trip.
Aunt Joyce was rescued after the storm by her niece Pam. (our member). I'm not assuming Aunt Joyce evacuated this time either, and am making a mental note to call Pam in the morning...
Jayne Carroll and her great-grandson both evacuated. But in the havoc of that crazy time, they weren't reunited until, somehow, they both found their way to Chicago of all places. Here's a story from a Chicago TV station about their time there as evacuees. (I know I have some nice pics of her, but they're all at church...). This is a still from the story. Miss Carroll is the older woman on the left:
One of the highlights of that trip was hearing Ms Carrroll and Aunt Joyce sit on the steps of Ms Carroll's home, and talk about the Gulfport of their youth, from their own perspectives...they talked about race, but they mainly just about about life. It felt like we were learning the history of Gulfport, as we helped them rebuild.
---------------
I am thinking/praying about the undocumented workers we met the second year in Pascagoula, who barely spoke any English, and who wanted nothing more than to move back in to the mobile home they'd lived in before the storm. They'd gotten some help from FEMA, but a relative absconded with the check, leaving them with nowhere to turn by the grace of mission teams. The twenty-five-foot storm surge had picked up the mobile homes in their tiny park, and tossed them around like rubber ducks, bring them to rest in all sorts of odd places.
I wonder tonight: Did they evacuate? Did somebody get by to warn them? Because I don't think they have a phone or TV....
---------------
I am thinking/praying about Dave Thomas and his family in Biloxi. I'm pretty sure they evacuated, because of how harrowing their story was the first time. We worked on his house just two months ago, on our most recent trip, and here is Dave recounting for me, and for you, his horrible story from three-years-ago last night:
I am sure he moved into that house the week of the Fourth of July...finally moving out of the tiny FEMA trailer they'd lived in for almost three years.
And I am sure they evacuated again today.
---------------
I am thinking/praying about Ernest and Barbara, and their extended family. They were caught at the Superdome and suffered among the worst horrors of anyone I personally met.
All of the following is absolutely true. They....
...were lifted out of the waters by boat from their home
...waded through other waters to the Superdome
...got stuck in that living hell for several days
...did the unthinkable, and were forced to leave their grandmother behind at the Superdome, because she was one of the elderly who died there
...found their way to Dallas, where Rev. Shannon Hamrick found them among the dazed and lost in the Red Cross line at the Convention Center.
Our church helped get their family into a house here in Dallas in those first weeks after Katrina. We helped pay their rent, and fill the house with donated furniture for several months. Shannon and other volunteers worked hard to get the kids in school.
Eventually, they decided to go back to NOLA, because they wanted to rebuild their business there (drycleaning...). It took them months to find and reclaim the body of their grandmother, btw.
Even after I heard their story firsthand, I could hardly imagine the horror of it. And so, tonight, I especially wonder where they are. And I hope and pray they are safe.
This storm could be a killer. What we learned through our work in Mississippi is that the right side of a giant hurricane is often the worst part. That's where the winds lash around in violent bands as the storm makes landfall. That's where the storm surge is worst, as this short video we shot in Biloxi this June shows:
The forecasts seem to show that Gustav's eye will miss NOLA. But please don't rejoice. That merely means that the most likely storm surge will be right on top of it. Here is a good explanation of storm surge I found on Kos.
Good Lord. Driving back to the NOLA airport in late June, I was so thrilled by how many businesses seemed to be re-opened...by how few of the blue tarps I saw on houses and apartment buildings.
Not again, please God. Not again.
I hope you will pray for NOLA and the whole Gulf Coast.
Tonight, I also want to commend the Republican Party for not playing politics with this storm. I never assumed they would. I'm pleased McCain went to Mississippi today, because I always believed the people there were sort of forgotten in all the buzz about the horror of NOLA. Good for him.
I can't resist, however, condemning this video, from a guy associated with "Focus on the Family," and what he hoped would happen last Thursday in Denver:
It's shameful.
I thank God no one is saying the same thing about Gustav.
Here is God's real truth: God does not send weather to punish innocent people, or fallible political parties.
Storms just happen, period.
So, let us simply join in our prayers together these next few days.
Everyone along the Gulf Coast has a story about the storm. Tonight, I felt the need to share some of those most tender to my heart, and ask for prayers.
Because tomorrow, whatever happens, they will have new ones.
----------------
PS: I talked with Martha Blaine of Dallas Emergency Preparedness today. (She's a NH member...) I also talked by email to Marji Bishir, our North Texas Conference Coordinator, via the UMC. There is a good plan in place for evacuees, and tonight many are coming here to the Dallas area.
If I hear of any direct ways folks can help, I will most certainly pass it along...and ask others to do likewise...EF
Watching the ominous sight of Gustav, and knowing what I know about NOLA and all of the Gulf Coast?
It's just heartbreaking.
The past three summers, we've taken our mission trips to the Biloxi/Gulfport area. I know I speak for many in our church when I say that we've fallen in love with the people there. They have such good hearts, and are the kind of solid folks anyone would be proud to get to know.
Tonight, I am thinking about them. I am praying for all of them. And I am asking you to pray too. What I have learned in the last three years along the Gulf Coast is that everyone there has a story about the storm. Everyone. You hear stories form waitresses and hotel clerks. Tonight, I feel like sharing a few of the stories I know best, so perhaps you can put a face with your prayers.
---------------
I am thinking/praying about Jane Carroll, Ms. Day, and Aunt Joyce. Aunt Joyce is the actual aunt of one of our members. She'd never met Ms. Carroll --an African-American woman who lived blocks from her-- before our trip.
Aunt Joyce was rescued after the storm by her niece Pam. (our member). I'm not assuming Aunt Joyce evacuated this time either, and am making a mental note to call Pam in the morning...
Jayne Carroll and her great-grandson both evacuated. But in the havoc of that crazy time, they weren't reunited until, somehow, they both found their way to Chicago of all places. Here's a story from a Chicago TV station about their time there as evacuees. (I know I have some nice pics of her, but they're all at church...). This is a still from the story. Miss Carroll is the older woman on the left:
One of the highlights of that trip was hearing Ms Carrroll and Aunt Joyce sit on the steps of Ms Carroll's home, and talk about the Gulfport of their youth, from their own perspectives...they talked about race, but they mainly just about about life. It felt like we were learning the history of Gulfport, as we helped them rebuild.
---------------
I am thinking/praying about the undocumented workers we met the second year in Pascagoula, who barely spoke any English, and who wanted nothing more than to move back in to the mobile home they'd lived in before the storm. They'd gotten some help from FEMA, but a relative absconded with the check, leaving them with nowhere to turn by the grace of mission teams. The twenty-five-foot storm surge had picked up the mobile homes in their tiny park, and tossed them around like rubber ducks, bring them to rest in all sorts of odd places.
I wonder tonight: Did they evacuate? Did somebody get by to warn them? Because I don't think they have a phone or TV....
---------------
I am thinking/praying about Dave Thomas and his family in Biloxi. I'm pretty sure they evacuated, because of how harrowing their story was the first time. We worked on his house just two months ago, on our most recent trip, and here is Dave recounting for me, and for you, his horrible story from three-years-ago last night:
I am sure he moved into that house the week of the Fourth of July...finally moving out of the tiny FEMA trailer they'd lived in for almost three years.
And I am sure they evacuated again today.
---------------
I am thinking/praying about Ernest and Barbara, and their extended family. They were caught at the Superdome and suffered among the worst horrors of anyone I personally met.
All of the following is absolutely true. They....
...were lifted out of the waters by boat from their home
...waded through other waters to the Superdome
...got stuck in that living hell for several days
...did the unthinkable, and were forced to leave their grandmother behind at the Superdome, because she was one of the elderly who died there
...found their way to Dallas, where Rev. Shannon Hamrick found them among the dazed and lost in the Red Cross line at the Convention Center.
Our church helped get their family into a house here in Dallas in those first weeks after Katrina. We helped pay their rent, and fill the house with donated furniture for several months. Shannon and other volunteers worked hard to get the kids in school.
Eventually, they decided to go back to NOLA, because they wanted to rebuild their business there (drycleaning...). It took them months to find and reclaim the body of their grandmother, btw.
Even after I heard their story firsthand, I could hardly imagine the horror of it. And so, tonight, I especially wonder where they are. And I hope and pray they are safe.
This storm could be a killer. What we learned through our work in Mississippi is that the right side of a giant hurricane is often the worst part. That's where the winds lash around in violent bands as the storm makes landfall. That's where the storm surge is worst, as this short video we shot in Biloxi this June shows:
The forecasts seem to show that Gustav's eye will miss NOLA. But please don't rejoice. That merely means that the most likely storm surge will be right on top of it. Here is a good explanation of storm surge I found on Kos.
Good Lord. Driving back to the NOLA airport in late June, I was so thrilled by how many businesses seemed to be re-opened...by how few of the blue tarps I saw on houses and apartment buildings.
Not again, please God. Not again.
I hope you will pray for NOLA and the whole Gulf Coast.
Tonight, I also want to commend the Republican Party for not playing politics with this storm. I never assumed they would. I'm pleased McCain went to Mississippi today, because I always believed the people there were sort of forgotten in all the buzz about the horror of NOLA. Good for him.
I can't resist, however, condemning this video, from a guy associated with "Focus on the Family," and what he hoped would happen last Thursday in Denver:
It's shameful.
I thank God no one is saying the same thing about Gustav.
Here is God's real truth: God does not send weather to punish innocent people, or fallible political parties.
Storms just happen, period.
So, let us simply join in our prayers together these next few days.
Everyone along the Gulf Coast has a story about the storm. Tonight, I felt the need to share some of those most tender to my heart, and ask for prayers.
Because tomorrow, whatever happens, they will have new ones.
----------------
PS: I talked with Martha Blaine of Dallas Emergency Preparedness today. (She's a NH member...) I also talked by email to Marji Bishir, our North Texas Conference Coordinator, via the UMC. There is a good plan in place for evacuees, and tonight many are coming here to the Dallas area.
If I hear of any direct ways folks can help, I will most certainly pass it along...and ask others to do likewise...EF
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The Long Road To Forgiveness (The Kim Phuc Story)
Jul/13/2008 04:41 PM | Permalink
Every so often, I find one of the "The I Believe"
podcasts that is so compelling that I just have to
pass it along to you. That happened yesterday, as I
was driving along listening to an episode of the
great NPR series.
What came up on the iPod was the incredible story of Kim Phuc.
You have seen a picture of Kim. It was when she was nine-years-old, and running down the road between Phnom Penh and Saigon. She is naked. Her clothes have been burned off by a napalm bomb. She is crying. She is, to a generation, simply "the girl in the photograph."
She's an adult now, living in Canada with children of her own, and her essay for "This I Believe" has the enticing title of "The Long Road to Forgiveness."
I remember when I first saw "the picture." It was in a book of photographs from Life Magazine that we had around the house. Kind of a "best of" photo-collection from their history.
I remember at the time finding it hard to imagine that the picture was real. Apparently, so did Richard Nixon.
My excuse was that I was a child at the time (in fact Kim and I must be within a year of the same age) and photos like that were my first introduction to the horrors of war. It didn't seem possible. It didn't seem conceivable that anyone would hurt innocent children like that. But not only did people hurt them, they hurt them with the assistance of our people...our government. There is something about a single image like that can help shape your conscience, and stay vivid in your brain.
Here's how she describes that moment in her essay:
Kim had an incredibly rough life after the photo was taken. She was hospitalized for 14 months, and endured dozens of surgeries. When the photo became an international sensation, she went from obscurity to a living propaganda tool of the Vietnamese government. They used her and her terrible story for years for their political gain.
She describes this period in this way:
Years later, abroad on a study leave, she and her husband defected from Vietnam and ended up on Canada, where they live to this day.
Kim claims it was a conversation to Christianity in 1982 that allowed her to do that most difficult of all things. In her essay, Kim says it this way:
In 1996, Kim was invited to a ceremony at the the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial in Washington. There, as she learned how "The Wall" had become a pilgrimage site for Americans still dealing with the war's effect, she met one of the men most responsible for her plight: Captain John Plummer, an American who helped coordinate the air strikes on her village.
Yes, in a most powerful and moving moment, Kim was even able to forgive him. They remain friends to this day.
You can learn more about Kim by listening to her essay here.
Or, if this link goes dead, here is the NPR link.
I suppose Kim's story strikes me as poignant and beautiful because of its power just on it sown. But I suppose it also strikes me because this need to overcome hatred with love, anger with forgiveness, simply continues to grow in our time.
We are in the midst of a new war. There are dozens of Kims out there right now who will, for the foreseeable future be struggling, with their own mounds of hatred, "as high as a mountain."
It's that kind of hatred that leads to the modern terrorist, of course. And the violence that begets more violence simply increases unabated in our day. When I think of all the violence and anger running lose in society today, it truly frightens me. In fact, that is the only thing that frightens me about our world.
The solution to all of it, of course, is always before us. The different path --where love overcomes hate, peace overcomes war-- is always choice we can make at any time.
But, that solution will always strike us as naive. Yet it is only naive if we fail to realize the hard work it takes, the "long road" that it is. Make no mistake: forgiveness, love, reconciliation is only a path for the truly strong.
So, it may sound naive, but it seems to me Kim Phuc speaks truth in the closing words of her essay. They are about her time, but they are also so terribly relevant to this time too:
What came up on the iPod was the incredible story of Kim Phuc.
You have seen a picture of Kim. It was when she was nine-years-old, and running down the road between Phnom Penh and Saigon. She is naked. Her clothes have been burned off by a napalm bomb. She is crying. She is, to a generation, simply "the girl in the photograph."
She's an adult now, living in Canada with children of her own, and her essay for "This I Believe" has the enticing title of "The Long Road to Forgiveness."
I remember when I first saw "the picture." It was in a book of photographs from Life Magazine that we had around the house. Kind of a "best of" photo-collection from their history.
I remember at the time finding it hard to imagine that the picture was real. Apparently, so did Richard Nixon.
My excuse was that I was a child at the time (in fact Kim and I must be within a year of the same age) and photos like that were my first introduction to the horrors of war. It didn't seem possible. It didn't seem conceivable that anyone would hurt innocent children like that. But not only did people hurt them, they hurt them with the assistance of our people...our government. There is something about a single image like that can help shape your conscience, and stay vivid in your brain.
Here's how she describes that moment in her essay:
"I saw an airplane getting lower and then four bombs falling down. I saw fire everywhere around me. Then I saw the fire over my body, especially on my left arm. My clothes had been burned off by fire.
I was 9 years old but I still remember my thoughts at that moment: I would be ugly and people would treat me in a different way."
Kim had an incredibly rough life after the photo was taken. She was hospitalized for 14 months, and endured dozens of surgeries. When the photo became an international sensation, she went from obscurity to a living propaganda tool of the Vietnamese government. They used her and her terrible story for years for their political gain.
She describes this period in this way:
"The anger inside me was like a hatred as high as a mountain. I hated my life. I hated all people who were normal because I was not normal. I really wanted to die many times."
Years later, abroad on a study leave, she and her husband defected from Vietnam and ended up on Canada, where they live to this day.
Kim claims it was a conversation to Christianity in 1982 that allowed her to do that most difficult of all things. In her essay, Kim says it this way:
"God helped me to learn to forgive — the most difficult of all lessons. It didn't happen in a day and it wasn't easy. But I finally got it.
Forgiveness made me free from hatred. I still have many scars on my body and severe pain most days but my heart is cleansed."
In 1996, Kim was invited to a ceremony at the the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial in Washington. There, as she learned how "The Wall" had become a pilgrimage site for Americans still dealing with the war's effect, she met one of the men most responsible for her plight: Captain John Plummer, an American who helped coordinate the air strikes on her village.
Yes, in a most powerful and moving moment, Kim was even able to forgive him. They remain friends to this day.
You can learn more about Kim by listening to her essay here.
Or, if this link goes dead, here is the NPR link.
I suppose Kim's story strikes me as poignant and beautiful because of its power just on it sown. But I suppose it also strikes me because this need to overcome hatred with love, anger with forgiveness, simply continues to grow in our time.
We are in the midst of a new war. There are dozens of Kims out there right now who will, for the foreseeable future be struggling, with their own mounds of hatred, "as high as a mountain."
It's that kind of hatred that leads to the modern terrorist, of course. And the violence that begets more violence simply increases unabated in our day. When I think of all the violence and anger running lose in society today, it truly frightens me. In fact, that is the only thing that frightens me about our world.
The solution to all of it, of course, is always before us. The different path --where love overcomes hate, peace overcomes war-- is always choice we can make at any time.
But, that solution will always strike us as naive. Yet it is only naive if we fail to realize the hard work it takes, the "long road" that it is. Make no mistake: forgiveness, love, reconciliation is only a path for the truly strong.
So, it may sound naive, but it seems to me Kim Phuc speaks truth in the closing words of her essay. They are about her time, but they are also so terribly relevant to this time too:
"Napalm is very powerful but faith, forgiveness and love are much more powerful. We would not have war at all if everyone could learn how to live with true love, hope and forgiveness.
If that little girl in the picture can do it, ask yourself: Can you?"
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A Conversation with Job (Yes, the guy from the
Bible...)
Jul/12/2008 12:00 AM | Permalink
Job, the guy from the Old Testament, stopped by the
house the other day for a visit. He looked good for
somebody pushing 2,500-years-old. We had a nice chat.
I wish I'd turned on the tape recorder in time, but I
didn't think about that quickly enough. However, I'm
pretty sure I can recall the gist of the
conversation.
So what follows is a pretty close transcription...
Me: Hey! What do you know?
Job: What do I know?
Me: Um...yeah. That's just an expression I use when I greet people.
I got tired of always saying "How's it going?" --stuff like that-- so instead I just usually ask folks "What do you know?"
It changes the pace.
Job: "How's it going?"
Me: They're expressions, that's all. You know...forms of greeting.
Anyway, don't worry about it. How have you been?
Job: Why would you ask somebody "What do you know?"
That's a pretty broad question.
Me: Like I said, it's an expression. Don't worry about it.
But since you asked, I just figure that anybody who's really paying attention to life is always learning something new and might like to share it.
I guess I just figured it might break open a different conversation than the same old "How's it going?"
Job: Why would you ask somebody "How's it going?"
How's what going?
Me: Well, that's the whole point really....to give the person an opening where they can tell you a little about what's happening with them.
Listen, I'm sorry I brought it up. So, why are you here?
Job: You tell me. You conjured me up. I was doing just fine where I was.
Me: Yeah....hmnn.
Well....how is your life going?
Job: My life? Peachy.
Me: Peachy?
Job: Yep.
Me: I guess I wouldn't have guessed "peachy" after all the things you went through. I mean, you saw some pretty hard times.
Job: Well, yes, it was rough....real rough. But just look at things how things turned out. At the end of the story, I had twice as much stuff as I had before. Everybody who knew me gave me gold rings, I had the most beautiful daughters in the whole world, and I died when I was a hundred and eighty.
What's not to like about that?
Me: I guess when you put it that way...
Job: Yeah, it turned out pretty good for me, really.
But there were times...
Me: Well, that's what I'm talking about. It just seems to me that you had so much go wrong. And so I guess I conjured you up because of what I see happening to so many people all around me. In fact, the more I think about it, I'm certain that's why.
I just find that the older I get, the big questions of life don't get any easier. In fact, they seem to be getting harder.
I've got a good friend dying of cancer, who is among the kindest, dearest, human beings on the face of the planet. I've seen young mothers and fathers taken away from their families in the prime of life.
And I've always known these kinds of things "just happen." But now they seem to be happening more to often people I know.
Job: You're getting older.
Me: Yeah. Thanks for the encouragement.
Job: Hey, what do you want from me, sugarcoating or the truth?
Me: Since you put it that way, I'm not exactly sure.
Job: Look, bad things are always happening. You want to know the truth? The older I've gotten, the more I've come to believe that the world is always just about a half-step from total anarchy.
When you throw in your natural disasters...your "free will"...your laws of nature, interacting with stuff like automobiles and airplanes....when you add in our human pride and our need to dominate people...when you mix in our laziness and all the ways we don't take care of ourselves...when you throw in our shame, our fear, our reactiveness toward "strangers," it's a wonder civilization ever survived longer than a day.
Me: How cheery.
Job: Look, I'm just sayin....
Me: You're just saying what?
Job: It's an expression.
I'm just saying when you're down in the middle of a personal crisis you think that all the bad stuff happening around you is only happening to you. But it's not. Now, there may be periods in life when the bad stuff seems particularly heavy. That's what happened to me.
But don't kid yourself...there's nobody out there who's immune to it.
The rain falls on the just and and the unjust
Me: I've heard that somewhere before.
Job: I bet.
Me: See, I know all this.
But it doesn't help sometimes when you're face-to-face with the particulars...the young mother taken from her kids...the friend with cancer....the evils and injustice of war....justice denied to so many people...
You know what really gets me about your conversation with God?
Job: What?
Me: When God finally shows up, God never answers for any of it. Your friends had all sorts of questions. Heck, you had all sorts of questions.
Job: I really did, didn't I?
You know, it's funny, so many preachers just gloss right over this part. But, Jeez, I was pissed.
I was hurt and questioning and confused. I didn't really blame God.
Well...take that back...I suppose that, inside, perhaps I did.
Me: Well, who could blame you?
Job: And then I had those friends.
Me: With friends like those...
Job: Tell me about it.
Talk about a lack of a bedside manner. Their main point seemed to be that I'd done something wrong....that I'd sinned...that I'd done something I wasn't copping to. You know the type. They just wanted to me to pray harder....to admit the thing I hadn't admitted yet.
Me: That never works, does it?
Job: Not really. I mean, especially if you don't know what the hell you're supposed to be confessing.
I hadn't done anything wrong. Everybody I know called me blameless.
There was nothing to confess.
Me: And yet, they wanted you too.
Job: Yep.
Torture doesn't work, no matter who's doing the torturing.
Me: That's a good reminder.
Job: I'm just sayin...
I mean, I was sitting there with all the crap that had happened to me, trying to make sense of it all, and they kept just asking me to admit what I'd done....to remember what I'd done....like when you've lost your key and somebody says, "Just stop for a minute and think about where you've been."
Me: Actually, that usually works for me.
Job: OK, so it's not the best example.
But that's what I was doing. I was looking back over everything I'd ever done, and everybody I'd ever interacted with, and it just didn't add up. There was no reason why what was happening to me was happening to me. That's why I wanted some answers.
Me: But you never got any answers, did you?
Job: No.
Me: See, I think that's what bothers people who read your story today the most . It really bugs them that you never get any answers.
I mean, God shows up. But God doesn't have any answers...just more questions. Lot's of questions, in fact.
And God seems real....
Job: Sarcastic?
Me: Yes! Sarcastic. Sarcastic and....and...
Job: Cruel?
Me: Yep. That too.
I mean, God took God's time to come to you. And there's no explanation for that. Ever. Where the heck has God has been, for God-sake?
Job: Good one.
Me: And then, God doesn't offer one single answer at all. Just these sarcastic questions about "Who are you to question me?"
See, people read this stuff and then begin to think, "Well, if this is what God is really like then why believe in God anyway?" If God is going to avoid answering these tough questions of theodicy, then why should I believe in God?
Job: Nobody has to believe in God.
Me: I get that. I really do.
My point is, that God doesn't seem to be helping God's case.
Job: What makes you think God has a case that God wants to make?
Me: Good point.
Job: Or help?
Me: Hmnn...
Job: Seriously. See, that was one of my big learnings: God doesn't have a case to make. God isn't out there, working hard to convince us that God exists or that God is loving, or that God is present with us. That's just not what God's "in" to.
Bad shit happens in the world. Lots of it. And it's going to happen to you or somebody you love eventually.
Me: Again, thanks for the cheery news.
Job: Like I said before, you want cheery or you want real? Make your choice.
Nobody gets out of this life alive. Nobody gets out of this life without loads of hurt and suffering coming on them. Somebody gets sick. Somebody dies. Somebody does something intentionally evil to somebody else. Some natural disaster comes along and wipes out a whole city. Some society falls under the trap of propaganda or militant nationalism. People use religion as a weapon.
There's a lot of bad shit out there. A lot of it. Mathematically, some of it is going to come your way.
Me: You know, I know that. I really do.
Job: Do you?
Me: Well, maybe not every day. I am sure there are days when I'm more lucid than others. And I know that God doesn't cause all the evil in the world....at least not for most people most of the time.
And, actually, I've always had a pretty nuanced view of God's omnipotence and omniscience.
Job: Uh...what?
Me: The idea that God is all-powerful and all-knowing. I've never bought into that idea the way most folks do. A lot of traditional theology buys into this notion, and then spends countless dollars cutting down trees to write the books to defend it....when it's really indefensible the way it's usually posited.
Job: Um...yeah....
Me: Have you heard of Charles Hartshorne?
Job: No. Not really.
Me: He was a philosopher in the process-philosophy tradition who once wrote a book called "Omnipotence, and Other Theological Mistakes."
Job: I LIKE it!
Me: It's one of my favorite little books, really. Because it take a whack at this problem I'm talking about here: that traditional theology makes assertions about God's all-knowing nature and God's all-powerful nature that are impossible to defend.
If free will is really free, then how can God be all-powerful?
Job: Yeah, I've heard that one before.
Me: And if God knows that all this bad stuff is going to happen, then why doesn't God do anything to stop it?
Job: That was my question.
Me: Well, the point Hartshorne makes is that God doesn't know everything that's going to happen. I mean, God doesn't know it exactly. God doesn't know the exact path.
God doesn't know whether you're going to eat Wheaties or Corn Flakes for breakfast.
Job: What are those?
Me: Breakfast cereals...work with me here...
God doesn't know the exact choice you're going to make in each and every moment of life because you haven't made them yet. You have the free will to choose Wheaties or Corn Flakes.
Job: I'll keep that in mind.
Me: God doesn't, for the most part, step in and stop evil from happening either. So, the traditional way that "omnipotence" gets talked about doesn't make any logical sense either. There is no logical sense in which God has that kind of omnipotence.
Job: What do you mean, "that kind?"
Me: I mean it's like saying "The unicorn is all-powerful." There's no such thing as a unicorn, so simply saying "The unicorn is all-powerful" doesn't make it so.
It's a statement of no-sense.
Job: What's a unicorn?
Me: A fictional character that comes down to us through ancient mythology.
Job: Fictional, huh?
Kinda like me?
Me: Don't change the subject.
Job: Sorry.
Me: Process Theology says that God is not just IN all things, but instead in all things...plus a little bit more. It's akin to the way your own body works. YOU are more than the sum of your parts.
Job: I hope so. My parts are more than 3,000-years-old.
Me: The being that is YOU is more than just blood vessels and organs...more than just synapses firing in your brain.
Job: But I understand that some scientists today are claiming that this is exactly the truth...that we are little more than these biological processes.
Me: And yet, all of them together are still more than the sum of the parts. There is something about how all the parts work together that is greater than the sum...almost like "the sum, plus one."
That's sort of what God is. God is "the sum, plus one" of all existence. God is both transcendent and immanent.....far off and very near. God is in all things, and yet is not JUST all things.
Job: OK, interesting theory. What does this have to do with those "power" and "knowledge" questions you were asking earlier?
Me: Well, what this means is that the only REAL thing is each eternally present "NOW."
Job: That's what the Quantum Physicists are saying too, right?
Me: You know Quantum Physics?
Job: I know enough to know I really don't know anything.
Me: Me too. But I think you're right. There is a lot of interesting connection between what Process Theologians say about the nature of reality, and what Quantum Physicists say.
Job: Interesting.
Me: So, back to that "eternally present NOW"...
The point is, that a part of God is a part of that eternally present NOW. So, some Process Theologians argue that God is actually CHANGED by what happens in the world...by our actions....by the events that unfold in each NOW moment after the other.
Job: God is changed? That doesn't go over well in the church-world does it?
Me: Doesn't it?
We talk about the different revelations of God in the Bible all the time...the Old and New Testaments.
We even have that time when God is talking to Moses and the Bible says that God "changed God's mind." In that story, the things that happen seem to make a difference to God and God ends up in a different place.
Job: But what about "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever?"
Me: You've heard that slogan, have you?
Job: Very catchy. I always thought I could've used something like that.
Me: Well, let me ask you this: Are you the same person you've always been?
Job: Yes and no.
Me: Well, which is it? Yes or no?
Job: It's both, I guess.
Me: Exactly! You're different than you were when you were, say, fifteen.
Job: Or a hundred and twenty!
Me: And yet, you're still you, right? There's something about YOU that's always YOU, isn't there?
See, those modern reductionist scientists --who say that we're all just biological process and nothing more-- can't account for that. They can't account for the fact that there's always been YOU-ness to you....a part of you that's unchangeably YOU no matter whether you were fifteen or fifty.
Job: Or a hundred-and-fifty.
Me: Yep.
Well, Process Theology says that God's a little like that too. God has an "immutable" nature that's always God-ish.
Job: God-ish?
Me: Look, I'm trying not to use 64-million-dollar theological words....work with me...
There's a part of God that always stays God, and there's a part of God that reacts, responds to, and perhaps is even changed by, the "free will" that we have in the world.
Job: I'm listening...
So, what about that all-knowing/powerful stuff?
Me: Well, the theory is that if God knows all...and there's some folks who imagine that this is just not possible...
Job: The "unicorn" thing?
Me: Right. The unicorn thing.
If God knows all, the way to say this that makes any logical sense at all is that God knows all the possibilities.
Job: Possibilities?
Me: Yes. God knows that you might eat Wheaties. You might eat Corn Flakes. You might go to Starbucks for a muffin.
Job: Star...
Me: Nevermind.
God knows all the choices you might make...all the choices I might make...all the choices each of the six billion persons on earth might make. And that's in any given instant of time. And God knows what the consequences of those choices might be.
There's just one thing God doesn't know.
Job: Do tell.
Me: What's actually going to happen.
Nobody --not even God-- knows that.
Job: So, what about all that "God knows the hairs on your head" stuff?
Me: Well, you could argue that that's really true. God just doesn't know how many you'll lose today.
Job: Never been a problem for me.
Me: Let's not go there.
Job: Probably best.
So, God knows all the possibilities, huh?
Me: Yep, that's the theory.
Job: That's not really the all-knowing-thing that most folks talk about, is it?
Me: No. But if you allow yourself to think about it, it's actually far more knowledge that the typical way of claiming that God knows, or has, one path --and one path only-- planned out for your life. The sum of possibilities, in any given moment of time, approaches infinity.
And that knowlege? Well, it's not knowing everything, precisely. But it's actually knowing far more than just the "one set plan" for the world that predestination-lovers talk about.
Job: Are there are a lot of those around today?
Me: Well, there are a lot of folks who say they are. Lots of preacher-types crow about finding God's one true plan for your life...about listening to God so that God can reveal that one true plan. And, certainly, hindsight is 20-20, and it's easy to see patterns in the rear-view mirror.
Job: But you're not big on the "God has a plan for your life" idea, are you?
Me: Not really.
Job: I knew there was a reason I liked you. Because I'm not either.
I saw too much suffering during that one period of my life...too many people die...I suffered too many losses to believe that it was somehow a part of some grand plan God had in mind.
But my friends kept telling me I was.
"Just pray more," they said, "Just confess. It will become clear."
But, know what?
Sometimes there's just no good reason for the bad that happens to you, anymore than there's a good reason for the good that happens to you either. I mean, I was up as high as you could get at one point in life. Then I went down to the depths. And I finished back as high as you could imagine.
If I'm not going to claim the bad stuff was God's will, how can I claim the good stuff either?
That was probably the one truest learning out of all my tribulations....that, bad or good, the things that happen to you just...HAPPEN. You don't necessarily deserve them either way.
I don't really deserve to have twice as much loot as I did before. Although...understand...I'm not complaining.
I can't explain it all, really.
I just really like that line "the rain falls on the just and the unjust."
It seems so...so true.
Me: So, you and I have a lot in common, I'd suppose.
Job: Sounds like it.
Me: But I'm still troubled by God's response.
I'm still troubled by the real bitchiness in God's reply to you. God's just so condescending to you.
Like I said earlier, a lot of the folks who read your story hate that part of it. They're glad God shows up...finally...but they just think God could have shown you a little more sympathy.
Job: You know, I can see how it might feel that way to read it. But that's not how I took it at the time.
Me: So, how did you take it at the time?
Job: Perspective.
Me: Perspective?
Job: Yes.
What I heard in what God said was "get a little perspective." You know what perspective is, don't you?
Me: I suppose.
Job: Well, you blogged about it a few months back.
Me: I did?
Job: Yes, right here.
Me: Oh...nice...I forgot about that one.
Job: See that picture? That's what God was a trying to give me. God wasn't really being condescending. God was just being honest. We are small. We are insignificant. Our little problems --even our big ones-- are nothing in the grand scheme of the entire created order.
And if what you say is true about God knowing all the possibilities, then I understand it even more now.
Me: How so?
Job: Well because, like you said, there's a lot going on in any given moment.
I think that's what God was telling me when God challenged me on all those acts of nature.
Me: Whether or not you knew where light and dark come from....the storehouse of the snows....the wisdom to number the clouds?
Job: Exactly.
Read that passage again. I think what God really wanted me to understand was a little perspective...to understand that, even with all I'd been through, there was still so much I didn't know.
You know, even with all the stuff you all know today, there is still so much mystery to life. You now seem to understand what makes light become light....you can define it...you can control it on some limited scale, even. But there's so much out there that's still uncontrollable by everyone. There's so much mystery.
Me: You think the mystery is all God?
Job: Who knows? Maybe some of it's just mystery. But I'd guess some of it's God.
What I know is that it's a big, beautiful universe out there. At any given moment, there is so much at stake, and we just don't see it. There are so many processes happening, so much life unfolding, only we can't notice it.
Me: Can't? Or won't?
Job: Both, I suppose.
Can't because it's just too much for any one person to take in.
Won't because we so often can't see past the end of our own noses...like me in my hour of turmoil.
There was no way I wasn't going to be angry, upset, confused, by all the things that happened to me. It didn't seem fair.
And it wasn't fair.
It's not fair that your friend has cancer. It's not fair that young parents are taken away in death far too soon. It's not fair that the rich seem to get away with murder, and that justice seems far off so much of the time.
But, know what?
Me: What?
Job: God came.
God finally showed up. And that was enough.
Me: Really? It was enough?
Job: Yes. It was. It was enough for me. God couldn't give me all the answers. Heck, to hear you tell it, maybe God didn't even know all the answers. Maybe there were no answers. Maybe a lot of the time when evil or bad things happen, there are simply no answers.
See, I'm at a place where I can believe that now.
But what I also believe is that, eventually, God shows up.
God shows up, and God is present.
Me: God's really there all the time, right?
Job: Of course, of course...
But, damn, there are times when it sure doesn't feel that way. Lot's of times.
But God does show up. And there was something about God showing up that made all the difference for me.
All the loot? All the second chances I got? I really could care less about them. They can --and will-- come and go.
But God came, and that made the difference.
So, to those friends of yours who are suffering, tell them to trust that God will come. God will be present. You may not like all the answers. You may not like THAT answer. Hell, at times there may not be any answers. But God will come and be present.
And God will offer perspective....perspective that doesn't trivialize what you're going through at the time....but honest perspective that reminds us just how big the world is, just how big God is, and how, as small as we are, we have our place in the grand scheme of things too....
Me: You know, I'm glad you came by today.
Job: I am too.
I don't get the chance to talk with many folks these days. It helps me to think through my story by telling it to you.
Me: Kinda like me asking, "What do you know?"
Job: Now that you mention it...touche.
Ha! Funny thing....
Me: Well, you're a remarkable man who has been through a great deal.
Job: Oh, you're too kind.
Me: And I appreciate you coming by.
Job: The pleasure was all mine.
Me: I mean, especially since your whole story was predicated on a bet.
Job: Yes...a....a what?
Me: A bet. You know....the bet?
Job: What bet?
Me: The bet between God and Satan...the whole premise for your story in the first place. The whole set-up to your story is that God and Satan have a little bet going to see whether or not misfortune will break an honorable man like y....
Job???
Job???!
You.....um.....you OK?
Job: Listen, I need to go....
I've just thought of a few more questions for God.
Thanks for having me.
Me: Sure thing.
Sorry to bring the bet-thing up....hope I didn't ruin the whole day with that.
Job: Um...no....Not ruined.
Just another...um...perspective that I'm going to have to work through, though.
But that brings me to the other big learning I can pass along from my story.
Me: What was that?
Job: God can always take our questions.
You be careful out there.
Me: You too.
So what follows is a pretty close transcription...
From Job, Chapter 40:
Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind: "Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to me.
"Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements--surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy? "Or who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb?....
"Have you entered into the springs of the sea, or walked in the recesses of the deep? Have the gates of death been revealed to you, or have you seen the gates of deep darkness? Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth? Declare, if you know all this. "Where is the way to the dwelling of light, and where is the place of darkness, that you may take it to its territory and that you may discern the paths to its home? Surely you know, for you were born then, and the number of your days is great! ...
What is the way to the place where the light is distributed, or where the east wind is scattered upon the earth? "Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain, and a way for the thunderbolt, to bring rain on a land where no one lives, on the desert, which is empty of human life, to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground put forth grass?
"Has the rain a father, or who has begotten the drops of dew? From whose womb did the ice come forth, and who has given birth to the hoarfrost of heaven?
Do you know the ordinances of the heavens? Can you establish their rule on the earth? "Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, so that a flood of waters may cover you? Can you send forth lightnings, so that they may go and say to you, 'Here we are'? Who has put wisdom in the inward parts, or given understanding to the mind?
Me: Hey! What do you know?
Job: What do I know?
Me: Um...yeah. That's just an expression I use when I greet people.
I got tired of always saying "How's it going?" --stuff like that-- so instead I just usually ask folks "What do you know?"
It changes the pace.
Job: "How's it going?"
Me: They're expressions, that's all. You know...forms of greeting.
Anyway, don't worry about it. How have you been?
Job: Why would you ask somebody "What do you know?"
That's a pretty broad question.
Me: Like I said, it's an expression. Don't worry about it.
But since you asked, I just figure that anybody who's really paying attention to life is always learning something new and might like to share it.
I guess I just figured it might break open a different conversation than the same old "How's it going?"
Job: Why would you ask somebody "How's it going?"
How's what going?
Me: Well, that's the whole point really....to give the person an opening where they can tell you a little about what's happening with them.
Listen, I'm sorry I brought it up. So, why are you here?
Job: You tell me. You conjured me up. I was doing just fine where I was.
Me: Yeah....hmnn.
Well....how is your life going?
Job: My life? Peachy.
Me: Peachy?
Job: Yep.
Me: I guess I wouldn't have guessed "peachy" after all the things you went through. I mean, you saw some pretty hard times.
Job: Well, yes, it was rough....real rough. But just look at things how things turned out. At the end of the story, I had twice as much stuff as I had before. Everybody who knew me gave me gold rings, I had the most beautiful daughters in the whole world, and I died when I was a hundred and eighty.
What's not to like about that?
Me: I guess when you put it that way...
Job: Yeah, it turned out pretty good for me, really.
But there were times...
Me: Well, that's what I'm talking about. It just seems to me that you had so much go wrong. And so I guess I conjured you up because of what I see happening to so many people all around me. In fact, the more I think about it, I'm certain that's why.
I just find that the older I get, the big questions of life don't get any easier. In fact, they seem to be getting harder.
I've got a good friend dying of cancer, who is among the kindest, dearest, human beings on the face of the planet. I've seen young mothers and fathers taken away from their families in the prime of life.
And I've always known these kinds of things "just happen." But now they seem to be happening more to often people I know.
Job: You're getting older.
Me: Yeah. Thanks for the encouragement.
Job: Hey, what do you want from me, sugarcoating or the truth?
Me: Since you put it that way, I'm not exactly sure.
Job: Look, bad things are always happening. You want to know the truth? The older I've gotten, the more I've come to believe that the world is always just about a half-step from total anarchy.
When you throw in your natural disasters...your "free will"...your laws of nature, interacting with stuff like automobiles and airplanes....when you add in our human pride and our need to dominate people...when you mix in our laziness and all the ways we don't take care of ourselves...when you throw in our shame, our fear, our reactiveness toward "strangers," it's a wonder civilization ever survived longer than a day.
Me: How cheery.
Job: Look, I'm just sayin....
Me: You're just saying what?
Job: It's an expression.
I'm just saying when you're down in the middle of a personal crisis you think that all the bad stuff happening around you is only happening to you. But it's not. Now, there may be periods in life when the bad stuff seems particularly heavy. That's what happened to me.
But don't kid yourself...there's nobody out there who's immune to it.
The rain falls on the just and and the unjust
Me: I've heard that somewhere before.
Job: I bet.
Me: See, I know all this.
But it doesn't help sometimes when you're face-to-face with the particulars...the young mother taken from her kids...the friend with cancer....the evils and injustice of war....justice denied to so many people...
You know what really gets me about your conversation with God?
Job: What?
Me: When God finally shows up, God never answers for any of it. Your friends had all sorts of questions. Heck, you had all sorts of questions.
Job: I really did, didn't I?
You know, it's funny, so many preachers just gloss right over this part. But, Jeez, I was pissed.
I was hurt and questioning and confused. I didn't really blame God.
Well...take that back...I suppose that, inside, perhaps I did.
Me: Well, who could blame you?
Job: And then I had those friends.
Me: With friends like those...
Job: Tell me about it.
Talk about a lack of a bedside manner. Their main point seemed to be that I'd done something wrong....that I'd sinned...that I'd done something I wasn't copping to. You know the type. They just wanted to me to pray harder....to admit the thing I hadn't admitted yet.
Me: That never works, does it?
Job: Not really. I mean, especially if you don't know what the hell you're supposed to be confessing.
I hadn't done anything wrong. Everybody I know called me blameless.
There was nothing to confess.
Me: And yet, they wanted you too.
Job: Yep.
Torture doesn't work, no matter who's doing the torturing.
Me: That's a good reminder.
Job: I'm just sayin...
I mean, I was sitting there with all the crap that had happened to me, trying to make sense of it all, and they kept just asking me to admit what I'd done....to remember what I'd done....like when you've lost your key and somebody says, "Just stop for a minute and think about where you've been."
Me: Actually, that usually works for me.
Job: OK, so it's not the best example.
But that's what I was doing. I was looking back over everything I'd ever done, and everybody I'd ever interacted with, and it just didn't add up. There was no reason why what was happening to me was happening to me. That's why I wanted some answers.
Me: But you never got any answers, did you?
Job: No.
Me: See, I think that's what bothers people who read your story today the most . It really bugs them that you never get any answers.
I mean, God shows up. But God doesn't have any answers...just more questions. Lot's of questions, in fact.
And God seems real....
Job: Sarcastic?
Me: Yes! Sarcastic. Sarcastic and....and...
Job: Cruel?
Me: Yep. That too.
I mean, God took God's time to come to you. And there's no explanation for that. Ever. Where the heck has God has been, for God-sake?
Job: Good one.
Me: And then, God doesn't offer one single answer at all. Just these sarcastic questions about "Who are you to question me?"
See, people read this stuff and then begin to think, "Well, if this is what God is really like then why believe in God anyway?" If God is going to avoid answering these tough questions of theodicy, then why should I believe in God?
Job: Nobody has to believe in God.
Me: I get that. I really do.
My point is, that God doesn't seem to be helping God's case.
Job: What makes you think God has a case that God wants to make?
Me: Good point.
Job: Or help?
Me: Hmnn...
Job: Seriously. See, that was one of my big learnings: God doesn't have a case to make. God isn't out there, working hard to convince us that God exists or that God is loving, or that God is present with us. That's just not what God's "in" to.
Bad shit happens in the world. Lots of it. And it's going to happen to you or somebody you love eventually.
Me: Again, thanks for the cheery news.
Job: Like I said before, you want cheery or you want real? Make your choice.
Nobody gets out of this life alive. Nobody gets out of this life without loads of hurt and suffering coming on them. Somebody gets sick. Somebody dies. Somebody does something intentionally evil to somebody else. Some natural disaster comes along and wipes out a whole city. Some society falls under the trap of propaganda or militant nationalism. People use religion as a weapon.
There's a lot of bad shit out there. A lot of it. Mathematically, some of it is going to come your way.
Me: You know, I know that. I really do.
Job: Do you?
Me: Well, maybe not every day. I am sure there are days when I'm more lucid than others. And I know that God doesn't cause all the evil in the world....at least not for most people most of the time.
And, actually, I've always had a pretty nuanced view of God's omnipotence and omniscience.
Job: Uh...what?
Me: The idea that God is all-powerful and all-knowing. I've never bought into that idea the way most folks do. A lot of traditional theology buys into this notion, and then spends countless dollars cutting down trees to write the books to defend it....when it's really indefensible the way it's usually posited.
Job: Um...yeah....
Me: Have you heard of Charles Hartshorne?
Job: No. Not really.
Me: He was a philosopher in the process-philosophy tradition who once wrote a book called "Omnipotence, and Other Theological Mistakes."
Job: I LIKE it!
Me: It's one of my favorite little books, really. Because it take a whack at this problem I'm talking about here: that traditional theology makes assertions about God's all-knowing nature and God's all-powerful nature that are impossible to defend.
If free will is really free, then how can God be all-powerful?
Job: Yeah, I've heard that one before.
Me: And if God knows that all this bad stuff is going to happen, then why doesn't God do anything to stop it?
Job: That was my question.
Me: Well, the point Hartshorne makes is that God doesn't know everything that's going to happen. I mean, God doesn't know it exactly. God doesn't know the exact path.
God doesn't know whether you're going to eat Wheaties or Corn Flakes for breakfast.
Job: What are those?
Me: Breakfast cereals...work with me here...
God doesn't know the exact choice you're going to make in each and every moment of life because you haven't made them yet. You have the free will to choose Wheaties or Corn Flakes.
Job: I'll keep that in mind.
Me: God doesn't, for the most part, step in and stop evil from happening either. So, the traditional way that "omnipotence" gets talked about doesn't make any logical sense either. There is no logical sense in which God has that kind of omnipotence.
Job: What do you mean, "that kind?"
Me: I mean it's like saying "The unicorn is all-powerful." There's no such thing as a unicorn, so simply saying "The unicorn is all-powerful" doesn't make it so.
It's a statement of no-sense.
Job: What's a unicorn?
Me: A fictional character that comes down to us through ancient mythology.
Job: Fictional, huh?
Kinda like me?
Me: Don't change the subject.
Job: Sorry.
Me: Process Theology says that God is not just IN all things, but instead in all things...plus a little bit more. It's akin to the way your own body works. YOU are more than the sum of your parts.
Job: I hope so. My parts are more than 3,000-years-old.
Me: The being that is YOU is more than just blood vessels and organs...more than just synapses firing in your brain.
Job: But I understand that some scientists today are claiming that this is exactly the truth...that we are little more than these biological processes.
Me: And yet, all of them together are still more than the sum of the parts. There is something about how all the parts work together that is greater than the sum...almost like "the sum, plus one."
That's sort of what God is. God is "the sum, plus one" of all existence. God is both transcendent and immanent.....far off and very near. God is in all things, and yet is not JUST all things.
Job: OK, interesting theory. What does this have to do with those "power" and "knowledge" questions you were asking earlier?
Me: Well, what this means is that the only REAL thing is each eternally present "NOW."
Job: That's what the Quantum Physicists are saying too, right?
Me: You know Quantum Physics?
Job: I know enough to know I really don't know anything.
Me: Me too. But I think you're right. There is a lot of interesting connection between what Process Theologians say about the nature of reality, and what Quantum Physicists say.
Job: Interesting.
Me: So, back to that "eternally present NOW"...
The point is, that a part of God is a part of that eternally present NOW. So, some Process Theologians argue that God is actually CHANGED by what happens in the world...by our actions....by the events that unfold in each NOW moment after the other.
Job: God is changed? That doesn't go over well in the church-world does it?
Me: Doesn't it?
We talk about the different revelations of God in the Bible all the time...the Old and New Testaments.
We even have that time when God is talking to Moses and the Bible says that God "changed God's mind." In that story, the things that happen seem to make a difference to God and God ends up in a different place.
Job: But what about "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever?"
Me: You've heard that slogan, have you?
Job: Very catchy. I always thought I could've used something like that.
Me: Well, let me ask you this: Are you the same person you've always been?
Job: Yes and no.
Me: Well, which is it? Yes or no?
Job: It's both, I guess.
Me: Exactly! You're different than you were when you were, say, fifteen.
Job: Or a hundred and twenty!
Me: And yet, you're still you, right? There's something about YOU that's always YOU, isn't there?
See, those modern reductionist scientists --who say that we're all just biological process and nothing more-- can't account for that. They can't account for the fact that there's always been YOU-ness to you....a part of you that's unchangeably YOU no matter whether you were fifteen or fifty.
Job: Or a hundred-and-fifty.
Me: Yep.
Well, Process Theology says that God's a little like that too. God has an "immutable" nature that's always God-ish.
Job: God-ish?
Me: Look, I'm trying not to use 64-million-dollar theological words....work with me...
There's a part of God that always stays God, and there's a part of God that reacts, responds to, and perhaps is even changed by, the "free will" that we have in the world.
Job: I'm listening...
So, what about that all-knowing/powerful stuff?
Me: Well, the theory is that if God knows all...and there's some folks who imagine that this is just not possible...
Job: The "unicorn" thing?
Me: Right. The unicorn thing.
If God knows all, the way to say this that makes any logical sense at all is that God knows all the possibilities.
Job: Possibilities?
Me: Yes. God knows that you might eat Wheaties. You might eat Corn Flakes. You might go to Starbucks for a muffin.
Job: Star...
Me: Nevermind.
God knows all the choices you might make...all the choices I might make...all the choices each of the six billion persons on earth might make. And that's in any given instant of time. And God knows what the consequences of those choices might be.
There's just one thing God doesn't know.
Job: Do tell.
Me: What's actually going to happen.
Nobody --not even God-- knows that.
Job: So, what about all that "God knows the hairs on your head" stuff?
Me: Well, you could argue that that's really true. God just doesn't know how many you'll lose today.
Job: Never been a problem for me.
Me: Let's not go there.
Job: Probably best.
So, God knows all the possibilities, huh?
Me: Yep, that's the theory.
Job: That's not really the all-knowing-thing that most folks talk about, is it?
Me: No. But if you allow yourself to think about it, it's actually far more knowledge that the typical way of claiming that God knows, or has, one path --and one path only-- planned out for your life. The sum of possibilities, in any given moment of time, approaches infinity.
And that knowlege? Well, it's not knowing everything, precisely. But it's actually knowing far more than just the "one set plan" for the world that predestination-lovers talk about.
Job: Are there are a lot of those around today?
Me: Well, there are a lot of folks who say they are. Lots of preacher-types crow about finding God's one true plan for your life...about listening to God so that God can reveal that one true plan. And, certainly, hindsight is 20-20, and it's easy to see patterns in the rear-view mirror.
Job: But you're not big on the "God has a plan for your life" idea, are you?
Me: Not really.
Job: I knew there was a reason I liked you. Because I'm not either.
I saw too much suffering during that one period of my life...too many people die...I suffered too many losses to believe that it was somehow a part of some grand plan God had in mind.
But my friends kept telling me I was.
"Just pray more," they said, "Just confess. It will become clear."
But, know what?
Sometimes there's just no good reason for the bad that happens to you, anymore than there's a good reason for the good that happens to you either. I mean, I was up as high as you could get at one point in life. Then I went down to the depths. And I finished back as high as you could imagine.
If I'm not going to claim the bad stuff was God's will, how can I claim the good stuff either?
That was probably the one truest learning out of all my tribulations....that, bad or good, the things that happen to you just...HAPPEN. You don't necessarily deserve them either way.
I don't really deserve to have twice as much loot as I did before. Although...understand...I'm not complaining.
I can't explain it all, really.
I just really like that line "the rain falls on the just and the unjust."
It seems so...so true.
Me: So, you and I have a lot in common, I'd suppose.
Job: Sounds like it.
Me: But I'm still troubled by God's response.
I'm still troubled by the real bitchiness in God's reply to you. God's just so condescending to you.
Like I said earlier, a lot of the folks who read your story hate that part of it. They're glad God shows up...finally...but they just think God could have shown you a little more sympathy.
Job: You know, I can see how it might feel that way to read it. But that's not how I took it at the time.
Me: So, how did you take it at the time?
Job: Perspective.
Me: Perspective?
Job: Yes.
What I heard in what God said was "get a little perspective." You know what perspective is, don't you?
Me: I suppose.
Job: Well, you blogged about it a few months back.
Me: I did?
Job: Yes, right here.
Me: Oh...nice...I forgot about that one.
Job: See that picture? That's what God was a trying to give me. God wasn't really being condescending. God was just being honest. We are small. We are insignificant. Our little problems --even our big ones-- are nothing in the grand scheme of the entire created order.
And if what you say is true about God knowing all the possibilities, then I understand it even more now.
Me: How so?
Job: Well because, like you said, there's a lot going on in any given moment.
I think that's what God was telling me when God challenged me on all those acts of nature.
Me: Whether or not you knew where light and dark come from....the storehouse of the snows....the wisdom to number the clouds?
Job: Exactly.
Read that passage again. I think what God really wanted me to understand was a little perspective...to understand that, even with all I'd been through, there was still so much I didn't know.
You know, even with all the stuff you all know today, there is still so much mystery to life. You now seem to understand what makes light become light....you can define it...you can control it on some limited scale, even. But there's so much out there that's still uncontrollable by everyone. There's so much mystery.
Me: You think the mystery is all God?
Job: Who knows? Maybe some of it's just mystery. But I'd guess some of it's God.
What I know is that it's a big, beautiful universe out there. At any given moment, there is so much at stake, and we just don't see it. There are so many processes happening, so much life unfolding, only we can't notice it.
Me: Can't? Or won't?
Job: Both, I suppose.
Can't because it's just too much for any one person to take in.
Won't because we so often can't see past the end of our own noses...like me in my hour of turmoil.
There was no way I wasn't going to be angry, upset, confused, by all the things that happened to me. It didn't seem fair.
And it wasn't fair.
It's not fair that your friend has cancer. It's not fair that young parents are taken away in death far too soon. It's not fair that the rich seem to get away with murder, and that justice seems far off so much of the time.
But, know what?
Me: What?
Job: God came.
God finally showed up. And that was enough.
Me: Really? It was enough?
Job: Yes. It was. It was enough for me. God couldn't give me all the answers. Heck, to hear you tell it, maybe God didn't even know all the answers. Maybe there were no answers. Maybe a lot of the time when evil or bad things happen, there are simply no answers.
See, I'm at a place where I can believe that now.
But what I also believe is that, eventually, God shows up.
God shows up, and God is present.
Me: God's really there all the time, right?
Job: Of course, of course...
But, damn, there are times when it sure doesn't feel that way. Lot's of times.
But God does show up. And there was something about God showing up that made all the difference for me.
All the loot? All the second chances I got? I really could care less about them. They can --and will-- come and go.
But God came, and that made the difference.
So, to those friends of yours who are suffering, tell them to trust that God will come. God will be present. You may not like all the answers. You may not like THAT answer. Hell, at times there may not be any answers. But God will come and be present.
And God will offer perspective....perspective that doesn't trivialize what you're going through at the time....but honest perspective that reminds us just how big the world is, just how big God is, and how, as small as we are, we have our place in the grand scheme of things too....
Me: You know, I'm glad you came by today.
Job: I am too.
I don't get the chance to talk with many folks these days. It helps me to think through my story by telling it to you.
Me: Kinda like me asking, "What do you know?"
Job: Now that you mention it...touche.
Ha! Funny thing....
Me: Well, you're a remarkable man who has been through a great deal.
Job: Oh, you're too kind.
Me: And I appreciate you coming by.
Job: The pleasure was all mine.
Me: I mean, especially since your whole story was predicated on a bet.
Job: Yes...a....a what?
Me: A bet. You know....the bet?
Job: What bet?
Me: The bet between God and Satan...the whole premise for your story in the first place. The whole set-up to your story is that God and Satan have a little bet going to see whether or not misfortune will break an honorable man like y....
Job???
Job???!
You.....um.....you OK?
Job: Listen, I need to go....
I've just thought of a few more questions for God.
Thanks for having me.
Me: Sure thing.
Sorry to bring the bet-thing up....hope I didn't ruin the whole day with that.
Job: Um...no....Not ruined.
Just another...um...perspective that I'm going to have to work through, though.
But that brings me to the other big learning I can pass along from my story.
Me: What was that?
Job: God can always take our questions.
You be careful out there.
Me: You too.
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Gulf Coast Mission Trip
Jun/26/2008 04:18 PM | Permalink
Went back to the Gulf Coast again this week, for a
third mission trip in as many years. This one was
with our youth. And we've took some short cell phone
videos that we've posted as vlogs for your enjoyment.
Here you go:
Here you go:
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Art and Soul Update
May/15/2008 08:19 AM | Permalink
Speaking of my favorite podcasts, I haven't mentioned
"Art and Soul" lately. This is really a shame, since
many of the guests the past year have been close
friends.
If you haven't heard of "Art and Soul of North Texas," it's a podcast created by my friend, Shelly Niedbuhr --quite an accomplished artist herself-- that explores the intersections of creativity and spirituality.
And, as I mentioned, many of the recent guests are among my best friends.
Bill Nash was Shelly's February guest, and he talks at length about his music, his illness and his songwriting process. Despite all I know of Bill, I still learned something new....about his formal music training during college.. It's a great interview, found here.
Charles Geilich was Shelly's January guest (right about the time the blog crashed!). Charles, as you may remember, is a good friend and a fine writer. (He actually interviewed me once on his now defunct radio show...and we continue to threaten starting our own podcast together...)
He's finished two books, and he and Shelly have a great conversation about writing and inspiration. Listen here.
I've known Kelly Brown and her family since we were all back in high school and her Dad was my 10th Grace Sunday School teacher. (Yep. That's a looong time ago...) Kelly's quite a ball of energy and an incredible artist/musician who is highly supportive of other artists in the area. She was Shelly's guest back in December, and you won't want to miss their conversation.
Last July, Vicki Caroline Cheatwood was Shelly's guest. Besides being an acclaimed playwright, Vicki and her family are also members of our church. She and Shelly had a great conversation about writing and life.
My dear friend, Annie Benjamin, is, literally, of my longest-running (see how I avoid saying "oldest'?) musician friends. She and Shelly have a great conversation about music and life here.
Cornell Kinderknecht is an acclaimed woodwinds player, and also a member of our band, Connections, and he was one of Shelly's very first guests.
Finally, old friend, Marsha Webb, was Shelly's very first guest. And Marsha's deep insights into spirituality and music are things I lap up any chance I get.
It's a great podcast, and I highly recommend it to everyone. You can subscribe to the podcast and get them on y hour iPod. Or, you can just listen online at the links in this post.
You might even want to check out this episode, with a preacher/musician you know.
If you haven't heard of "Art and Soul of North Texas," it's a podcast created by my friend, Shelly Niedbuhr --quite an accomplished artist herself-- that explores the intersections of creativity and spirituality.
And, as I mentioned, many of the recent guests are among my best friends.
Bill Nash was Shelly's February guest, and he talks at length about his music, his illness and his songwriting process. Despite all I know of Bill, I still learned something new....about his formal music training during college.. It's a great interview, found here.
Charles Geilich was Shelly's January guest (right about the time the blog crashed!). Charles, as you may remember, is a good friend and a fine writer. (He actually interviewed me once on his now defunct radio show...and we continue to threaten starting our own podcast together...)
He's finished two books, and he and Shelly have a great conversation about writing and inspiration. Listen here.
I've known Kelly Brown and her family since we were all back in high school and her Dad was my 10th Grace Sunday School teacher. (Yep. That's a looong time ago...) Kelly's quite a ball of energy and an incredible artist/musician who is highly supportive of other artists in the area. She was Shelly's guest back in December, and you won't want to miss their conversation.
Last July, Vicki Caroline Cheatwood was Shelly's guest. Besides being an acclaimed playwright, Vicki and her family are also members of our church. She and Shelly had a great conversation about writing and life.
My dear friend, Annie Benjamin, is, literally, of my longest-running (see how I avoid saying "oldest'?) musician friends. She and Shelly have a great conversation about music and life here.
Cornell Kinderknecht is an acclaimed woodwinds player, and also a member of our band, Connections, and he was one of Shelly's very first guests.
Finally, old friend, Marsha Webb, was Shelly's very first guest. And Marsha's deep insights into spirituality and music are things I lap up any chance I get.
It's a great podcast, and I highly recommend it to everyone. You can subscribe to the podcast and get them on y hour iPod. Or, you can just listen online at the links in this post.
You might even want to check out this episode, with a preacher/musician you know.
Strangers Bring Us Closer to God
May/14/2008 07:18 AM | Permalink
"This I Believe" was a marvelous radio feature
created decades ago by legendary radio man, Edward R.
Murrow. In the modern era,
it's been revived by NPR and
independent producer, Jay
Allison.
I listen to it faithfully, via podcast, and I
highly recommend the series to you. Basically,
"ordinary people from all walks of life" submit
short essays on their "beliefs" and the best of
those are chosen for broadcast.
The one below is a recent submission that moved me because it speaks to my own sense of Christian faith, calling, and social understanding. Her own website says this about author Sara Miles:
"Raised as an atheist, Sara Miles lived an enthusiastically secular life as a restaurant cook and writer. Then early one morning, for no earthly reason, she wandered into a church. “I was certainly not interested in becoming a Christian,” she writes. “Or, as I thought of it rather less politely, a religious nut.”
But she ate a piece of bread, took a sip of wine, and found herself radically transformed...."
Below is the text of Sara's essay, titled "Strangers Bring Us Closer to God." As I said, a lot of my own theology is embedded in this beautiful essay. I have added emphasis here and there, just because.
Listen to it on iTunes here. Read it below.
Strangers Bring Us Closer to God
by Sara Miles
All Things Considered, May 5, 2008 · Until recently, I thought being a Christian was all about belief. I didn't know any Christians, but I considered them people who believed in the virgin birth, for example, the way I believed in photosynthesis or germs.
But then, in an experience I still can't logically explain, I walked into a church and a stranger handed me a chunk of bread. Suddenly, I knew that it was made out of real flour and water and yeast — yet I also knew that God, named Jesus, was alive and in my mouth.
That first communion knocked me upside-down. Faith turned out not to be abstract at all, but material and physical. I'd thought Christianity meant angels and trinities and being good. Instead, I discovered a religion rooted in the most ordinary yet subversive practice: a dinner table where everyone is welcome, where the despised and outcasts are honored.
I came to believe that God is revealed not only in bread and wine during church services, but whenever we share food with others — particularly strangers. I came to believe that the fruits of creation are for everyone, without exception — not something to be doled out to insiders or the "deserving."
So, over the objections of some of my fellow parishioners, I started a food pantry right in the church sanctuary, giving away literally tons of oranges and potatoes and Cheerios around the very same altar where I'd eaten the body of Christ. We gave food to anyone who showed up. I met thieves, child abusers, millionaires, day laborers, politicians, schizophrenics, gangsters, bishops — all blown into my life through the restless power of a call to feed people.
At the pantry, serving over 500 strangers a week, I confronted the same issues that had kept me from religion in the first place. Like church, the food pantry asked me to leave certainty behind, tangled me up with people I didn't particularly want to know and scared me with its demand for more faith than I was ready to give.
Because my new vocation didn't turn out to be as simple as going to church on Sundays and declaring myself "saved." I had to trudge in the rain through housing projects, sit on the curb wiping the runny nose of a psychotic man, take the firing pin out of a battered woman's Magnum and then stick the gun in a cookie tin in the trunk of my car. I had to struggle with my atheist family, my doubting friends, and the prejudices and traditions of my newfound church.
But I learned that hunger can lead to more life — that by sharing real food, I'd find communion with the most unlikely people; that by eating a piece of bread, I'd experience myself as part of one body. This I believe: that by opening ourselves to strangers, we will taste God.
Independently produced for All Things Considered by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman with John Gregory and Viki Merrick.
The one below is a recent submission that moved me because it speaks to my own sense of Christian faith, calling, and social understanding. Her own website says this about author Sara Miles:
"Raised as an atheist, Sara Miles lived an enthusiastically secular life as a restaurant cook and writer. Then early one morning, for no earthly reason, she wandered into a church. “I was certainly not interested in becoming a Christian,” she writes. “Or, as I thought of it rather less politely, a religious nut.”
But she ate a piece of bread, took a sip of wine, and found herself radically transformed...."
Below is the text of Sara's essay, titled "Strangers Bring Us Closer to God." As I said, a lot of my own theology is embedded in this beautiful essay. I have added emphasis here and there, just because.
Listen to it on iTunes here. Read it below.
Strangers Bring Us Closer to God
by Sara Miles
All Things Considered, May 5, 2008 · Until recently, I thought being a Christian was all about belief. I didn't know any Christians, but I considered them people who believed in the virgin birth, for example, the way I believed in photosynthesis or germs.
But then, in an experience I still can't logically explain, I walked into a church and a stranger handed me a chunk of bread. Suddenly, I knew that it was made out of real flour and water and yeast — yet I also knew that God, named Jesus, was alive and in my mouth.
That first communion knocked me upside-down. Faith turned out not to be abstract at all, but material and physical. I'd thought Christianity meant angels and trinities and being good. Instead, I discovered a religion rooted in the most ordinary yet subversive practice: a dinner table where everyone is welcome, where the despised and outcasts are honored.
I came to believe that God is revealed not only in bread and wine during church services, but whenever we share food with others — particularly strangers. I came to believe that the fruits of creation are for everyone, without exception — not something to be doled out to insiders or the "deserving."
So, over the objections of some of my fellow parishioners, I started a food pantry right in the church sanctuary, giving away literally tons of oranges and potatoes and Cheerios around the very same altar where I'd eaten the body of Christ. We gave food to anyone who showed up. I met thieves, child abusers, millionaires, day laborers, politicians, schizophrenics, gangsters, bishops — all blown into my life through the restless power of a call to feed people.
At the pantry, serving over 500 strangers a week, I confronted the same issues that had kept me from religion in the first place. Like church, the food pantry asked me to leave certainty behind, tangled me up with people I didn't particularly want to know and scared me with its demand for more faith than I was ready to give.
Because my new vocation didn't turn out to be as simple as going to church on Sundays and declaring myself "saved." I had to trudge in the rain through housing projects, sit on the curb wiping the runny nose of a psychotic man, take the firing pin out of a battered woman's Magnum and then stick the gun in a cookie tin in the trunk of my car. I had to struggle with my atheist family, my doubting friends, and the prejudices and traditions of my newfound church.
But I learned that hunger can lead to more life — that by sharing real food, I'd find communion with the most unlikely people; that by eating a piece of bread, I'd experience myself as part of one body. This I believe: that by opening ourselves to strangers, we will taste God.
Independently produced for All Things Considered by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman with John Gregory and Viki Merrick.
Non-Violent "action" at General Conference
May/03/2008 08:39 PM | Permalink
As I
alluded to briefly,
earlier this week the General Conference of the
United Methodist Church has been meeting in Fort
Worth for the past two weeks. I've been there almost
every day of those two weeks, primarily supporting a
cause near and dear to the heart of many in our
church: full inclusion of GLBT persons in our
denomination.
I have never written much about these issues on this blog, and there is no specific reason for this, other than that I've written about it extensively in sermons and on our church blog.
Sufficed to say, it was a difficult week. Two votes that were seen as crucial to advancing the cause for GLBT persons went down to defeat. In other years, votes like this have ended in defeat as well. But for some reason, this year feels different.
In part, because the Reconciling Ministries Network had worked very hard among the American UMC to build bridges with delegates, and tell the story of GLBT persons in the church. There were extremely positive signs that allowed us to hope that the church had heard this positive word of inclusion, and that perhaps this time would be different.
New, and beautifully crafted language, was voted out of committee by a truly diverse group of conservatives, moderates, and progressives. As one member of that committee told me this week, "the old language we have used for 30-years simply does not work...it's time to say something new." Read it here.
This language was a golden opportunity to strike a new, almost "third way" path beyond the old divisions.
But in a move that shocked many --not just Reconciling UMs-- this language was defeated in favor of language slightly worse than the status quo.
There is a truth in this loss that I will unpack fully in the coming weeks: that if only the votes of the American delegates were counted, it is very likely that the two crucial votes I refer to would have gone in a positive direction by a wide margin.
The new truth is this: the American United Methodist Church is ready to create the kind of "big tent" that would allow for full inclusion of gay and lesbians in the life of the church. That is a huge shift.
Unfortunately, what we also had confirmed this week is something we had feared for years: that ultra-conservatives have cornered international delegates --now 25 percent of the voting population-- in an alliance that virtually assures the defeat of progressive ideals.
This is a shocking, eye-opening, development. I blogged about it earlier this week, in an entry that, I am sure, probably confused many who don't know the inside story. Some who read this blog entry might wonder, "why the big fuss over the gift of some cell phones?"
The truth is, that's not a big deal on its own. But, giving 150 international delegates cell phones, and a list of candidates to vote for, IS a big deal. It confirms our worst fears about this new alliance. And it should deeply concern not just progressives, but moderates and conservatives alike. There will be much more to say about this truth later.
For now, I want to share the video below. The day after the two negative votes, the supporters of GLBT issues engaged in a non-violent protest on the floor of the General Conference. It was a negotiated interruption of conference business, at the invitation of the Bishops. Almost 400 persons took place.
I was honored to be one of the many from our church who took part. When it's no longer possible to work through the normal legislative process, the teachings of MLK, Ghandi, and others, remind us that such non-violent resistance is called for.
And, in fact, we've heard from many delegates that they deeply appreciated the tone of this "action."
The whole video is below. You'll see glimpses of 20-25 of us from Northaven Church, here and there. You'll see the other 400 persons who engaged in the "witness." And, I hope you will note the many actual delegates who stood with us, who came forward from their seats to place black cloth on the communion table. What you cannot see in the camera angle is that 2-300 more people were standing with us in the balcony, all around the arena.
Here the whole action:
Witness on the Plenary Floor from Reconciling Ministries Network on Vimeo.
It was wonderful, powerful, witness.
But it is not enough.
There is much more to say later.
I have never written much about these issues on this blog, and there is no specific reason for this, other than that I've written about it extensively in sermons and on our church blog.
Sufficed to say, it was a difficult week. Two votes that were seen as crucial to advancing the cause for GLBT persons went down to defeat. In other years, votes like this have ended in defeat as well. But for some reason, this year feels different.
In part, because the Reconciling Ministries Network had worked very hard among the American UMC to build bridges with delegates, and tell the story of GLBT persons in the church. There were extremely positive signs that allowed us to hope that the church had heard this positive word of inclusion, and that perhaps this time would be different.
New, and beautifully crafted language, was voted out of committee by a truly diverse group of conservatives, moderates, and progressives. As one member of that committee told me this week, "the old language we have used for 30-years simply does not work...it's time to say something new." Read it here.
This language was a golden opportunity to strike a new, almost "third way" path beyond the old divisions.
But in a move that shocked many --not just Reconciling UMs-- this language was defeated in favor of language slightly worse than the status quo.
There is a truth in this loss that I will unpack fully in the coming weeks: that if only the votes of the American delegates were counted, it is very likely that the two crucial votes I refer to would have gone in a positive direction by a wide margin.
The new truth is this: the American United Methodist Church is ready to create the kind of "big tent" that would allow for full inclusion of gay and lesbians in the life of the church. That is a huge shift.
Unfortunately, what we also had confirmed this week is something we had feared for years: that ultra-conservatives have cornered international delegates --now 25 percent of the voting population-- in an alliance that virtually assures the defeat of progressive ideals.
This is a shocking, eye-opening, development. I blogged about it earlier this week, in an entry that, I am sure, probably confused many who don't know the inside story. Some who read this blog entry might wonder, "why the big fuss over the gift of some cell phones?"
The truth is, that's not a big deal on its own. But, giving 150 international delegates cell phones, and a list of candidates to vote for, IS a big deal. It confirms our worst fears about this new alliance. And it should deeply concern not just progressives, but moderates and conservatives alike. There will be much more to say about this truth later.
For now, I want to share the video below. The day after the two negative votes, the supporters of GLBT issues engaged in a non-violent protest on the floor of the General Conference. It was a negotiated interruption of conference business, at the invitation of the Bishops. Almost 400 persons took place.
I was honored to be one of the many from our church who took part. When it's no longer possible to work through the normal legislative process, the teachings of MLK, Ghandi, and others, remind us that such non-violent resistance is called for.
And, in fact, we've heard from many delegates that they deeply appreciated the tone of this "action."
The whole video is below. You'll see glimpses of 20-25 of us from Northaven Church, here and there. You'll see the other 400 persons who engaged in the "witness." And, I hope you will note the many actual delegates who stood with us, who came forward from their seats to place black cloth on the communion table. What you cannot see in the camera angle is that 2-300 more people were standing with us in the balcony, all around the arena.
Here the whole action:
Witness on the Plenary Floor from Reconciling Ministries Network on Vimeo.
It was wonderful, powerful, witness.
But it is not enough.
There is much more to say later.
The Cell Phone Debacle and What it Should Tell Us
Apr/28/2008 08:43 AM | Permalink
Over the weekend, news broke of conservative elements
within the United Methodist Church attempting to sway
votes at the General Conference by providing cell
phones to international delegates from Africa and
elsewhere.
On the one hand, this move might be passed off as simply the kind of politics that goes on during a conference like this. But I believe United Methodist moderates and progressives learned something else, more deeply disturbing: We got confirmation that, despite their public claims to be seeking unity, these conservative elements are seeking to control the church, and force an agenda that might well split our denomination.
First, here is an quote from a news story from United Methodist News Service:
The story goes on to describe how information distributed with the phones contained specific information on candidates for Judicial Council who clearly come from a theologically conservative position. As I understand it, this issue has been now forwarded to the Rules Committee of the General Conference.
You can read the entire UMIS story here.
UM Action Executive Director, Mark Tooley, obviously caught red-handed, offered these very defensive responses:
Tooley's comments are intended to throw the casual observer off the scent. This incident reveals little about international delegates. But! It reveals a great deal about groups like UMAction, Good News, and the IRD within the United Methodist Church.
It reveals a clear intend to divide the church along lines that would not be acceptable to either moderates or progressives within the American Church.
The real questions for delegates to the General Conference are:
What does this incident reveal about the agenda of the radical right within the United Methodist Church?
Why --at a time when all delegates are calling for unity and a new sense of common purpose-- do they choose this form of secret caucusing, clearing meant to divide and destroy?
If these conservative leaders are so sure their views are within the mainstream of American Methodism, then why are they not simply caucusing with American progressives and moderates? Why go to such lengths to secretly sway the international vote?
Given this current debacle, and the shocking and divisive call for "split" that conservative leaders launched at the end of the last General Conference, how can conservative leaders assure us they are not actively working to undercut the effort by moderates and progressives to keep the church together?
Let me be clear: caucusing, using modern technologies like cell phones, is done by people in all sides of all issues within the UMC. It's not the use of cell phones that is the issue, it's the clear intent to sway a whole block of votes that is.
Tooley is actually right on one thing, thanks be to God: International delegates can think for themselves, even when they are treated paternalistically with cell phones and lists of "acceptable" candidates.
But the real story here not about those delegates. It's about a truth many of us have feared for some time: that elements of the radical right in the Methodist Church have an agenda to keep control of the church by aligning themselves with international delegates.
Their leaders do not apparently wish to caucus in good faith on the issues before the Conference, but instead they seek to manipulate the vote through crass political means.
Let me be clear: I am not seeking to paint all, or even a majority, of conservatives at General Conference with this brush. Many are seeking to reach out and form coalitions with moderates and progressives. I have personally witnessed some powerful dialogue taking place between United Methodists on conviction. I am grateful and inspired by such things.
But the goals of the leaders of these radical right groups should be deeply troubling to all mainstream United Methodists.
So I issue this last plea to delegates to the Conference:
I urge you to see this as sign of the desperate need for real restructuring in the United Methodist Church. What is clearly needed is a restructuring that assures the conservative wing of our church cannot control our future life together. What is needed is a restructuring that gives real voice to the beauty of United Methodism's cultural distinctiveness in every part of the world, including the United States.
I pray that moderates and progressives alike to use prayerful discernment on the issue of restructuring, so that the American church is not forever compromised by this radically conservative interest group.
On the one hand, this move might be passed off as simply the kind of politics that goes on during a conference like this. But I believe United Methodist moderates and progressives learned something else, more deeply disturbing: We got confirmation that, despite their public claims to be seeking unity, these conservative elements are seeking to control the church, and force an agenda that might well split our denomination.
First, here is an quote from a news story from United Methodist News Service:
“The Renewal and Reform Coalition created myriad conversations among delegates, church leaders and visitors after they learned that the Confessing Movement, Good News/Renew, Transforming Congregations and UMAction provided free cell phones to more than 150 African delegates to use during the General Conference. Some delegates and officials expressed concern that the coalition is trying to sway the votes of African delegates who are typically more conservative than their U.S. counterparts. They fear the coalition might use the phones to offer suggestions on how to vote on particular issues.”
The story goes on to describe how information distributed with the phones contained specific information on candidates for Judicial Council who clearly come from a theologically conservative position. As I understand it, this issue has been now forwarded to the Rules Committee of the General Conference.
You can read the entire UMIS story here.
UM Action Executive Director, Mark Tooley, obviously caught red-handed, offered these very defensive responses:
"Why are liberal church elites in the U.S. so intimidated by the empowerment of African and other international delegates? What are they so afraid of?
"When Africans speak their Biblical convictions, threatened liberal church bureaucrats call that 'manipulation'.
"Patronizingly, United Methodist bureaucrats assume that African and Filipino delegates can be bought with a cell phone.
"These clueless church elites don't understand the obvious. America evangelicals and Global South evangelicals support each other because of their common faith."
Tooley's comments are intended to throw the casual observer off the scent. This incident reveals little about international delegates. But! It reveals a great deal about groups like UMAction, Good News, and the IRD within the United Methodist Church.
It reveals a clear intend to divide the church along lines that would not be acceptable to either moderates or progressives within the American Church.
The real questions for delegates to the General Conference are:
What does this incident reveal about the agenda of the radical right within the United Methodist Church?
Why --at a time when all delegates are calling for unity and a new sense of common purpose-- do they choose this form of secret caucusing, clearing meant to divide and destroy?
If these conservative leaders are so sure their views are within the mainstream of American Methodism, then why are they not simply caucusing with American progressives and moderates? Why go to such lengths to secretly sway the international vote?
Given this current debacle, and the shocking and divisive call for "split" that conservative leaders launched at the end of the last General Conference, how can conservative leaders assure us they are not actively working to undercut the effort by moderates and progressives to keep the church together?
Let me be clear: caucusing, using modern technologies like cell phones, is done by people in all sides of all issues within the UMC. It's not the use of cell phones that is the issue, it's the clear intent to sway a whole block of votes that is.
Tooley is actually right on one thing, thanks be to God: International delegates can think for themselves, even when they are treated paternalistically with cell phones and lists of "acceptable" candidates.
But the real story here not about those delegates. It's about a truth many of us have feared for some time: that elements of the radical right in the Methodist Church have an agenda to keep control of the church by aligning themselves with international delegates.
Their leaders do not apparently wish to caucus in good faith on the issues before the Conference, but instead they seek to manipulate the vote through crass political means.
Let me be clear: I am not seeking to paint all, or even a majority, of conservatives at General Conference with this brush. Many are seeking to reach out and form coalitions with moderates and progressives. I have personally witnessed some powerful dialogue taking place between United Methodists on conviction. I am grateful and inspired by such things.
But the goals of the leaders of these radical right groups should be deeply troubling to all mainstream United Methodists.
So I issue this last plea to delegates to the Conference:
I urge you to see this as sign of the desperate need for real restructuring in the United Methodist Church. What is clearly needed is a restructuring that assures the conservative wing of our church cannot control our future life together. What is needed is a restructuring that gives real voice to the beauty of United Methodism's cultural distinctiveness in every part of the world, including the United States.
I pray that moderates and progressives alike to use prayerful discernment on the issue of restructuring, so that the American church is not forever compromised by this radically conservative interest group.
Consider the Bluebonnets: An Earth Day Meditation
Apr/26/2008 07:30 PM | Permalink
(Note: as "Earth Week" draws to a close, I offer this
edited sermon text from two weeks ago. You can
actually hear the slightly modified spoken version by
clicking
here.)
I thought the appropriate way to start this essay on the environment is to tell you about the first time I had a full-blown anxiety attack. Doesn’t that sound like the right way to start?
(Yeah...I thought so....)
The first time I ever had full blown anxiety attack, I was living in the small town of Mason, Texas in the Texas Hill Country. I had just moved to Mason from Dallas, straight from the campus of Perkins, to begin a year-long internship among the fine people there.
I really loved my time in Mason. Folks there are are very provincial in many ways. They are insular in many ways. But they are among the kindest people I've ever known, and they taught me a lot.
Mason is precisely 100 miles from Austin, 100 miles from San Angelo, and 100 miles from San Antonio. So yes, crassly, it’s 100 miles from anywhere. Those distances have allowed it to avoid many of the changes that have come upon the rest of the Texas Hill Country. Unlike Fredericksburg ---the next town due south-- it’s too North and too far West to have yet been invaded by the city folks who buy up the main street shops, hoping to live out a “Green Acres” episode.
Mason is 43 miles from the nearest real hospital and 70 miles from the nearest major medical center. And it was perhaps these last facts that contributed to my first real anxiety attack. For you see, one night, very early in my stay there, I found myself unable to sleep. I found myself completely awake, heart racing, and breath quick. I could not settle down.
I got up, I looked through the screen door into the black abyss of night, and that just made it worse. And I had an anxiety attack. Because I suddenly realized that I WAS 100 miles from anywhere.
I suddenly realized --perhaps for the first time in my life-- that the vast majority of God’s green earth was, well, GREEN. It wasn’t made of concrete. It wasn’t made of streets. The grass wasn’t contained in little small square containers. The trees weren’t manicured and maintained by landscaper.
As I stared off into the darkness of that night, realizing that I was surrounded --for hundreds of miles in any direction-- by nothing but cattle, cactus, armadillos and rattlesnakes. And I freaked.
My anxiety did not go away overnight. As I look back on it now, it only gradually went away as I came to know and appreciate those people and their land.
They invited me to their ranches, and we would walk the pastures. I saw amazing sights there; like the day 40-50 white tail deer leaped over a barbedwire fence with the synchronized elegance and grace of a ballet company.
On my days off, I often drove the 30-some-miles over to Enchanted Rock, and sat on the top of that big boulder, reading Thomas Merton, feeling the wind on my face, watching hawks circle lazily above my head like long-lost friends. Folks from Mason invited me to see the marvel of an actual ”bat cave” at dusk; where thousands of bats trail out of the cave, and into the night sky, like a long strand of twirling DNA.
I learned that if I found myself getting anxious late at night, I could drive about a quarter mile out of town, park my truck on the side of the road, and stare up at the stars....an incredible carpet of stars that stretched out before me. Seemingly infinite. Every single night out there, I saw no less that five shooting stars.
Eventually, I learned to appreciate the vastness of the great outdoors. To listen to it. To learn from it.
The people of Mason taught me about it too. One of my first Friday nights in town, there was, of course, a high school football game. EVERYBODY in town went to the high school football game. So, I did too.
The Mason “Punchers” (short for “cowpunchers") were playing some 2-A rival from somewhere. There was a storm forecast for that night, and it had apparently been a while since it had rained. Somewhere around halftime, I got bored and decided to walk around the stadium. I was just getting to the visitor’s side, when I heard the biggest yell of the night come up from the crowd, as if some kid had just broken off a 90-yard run.
But, no. The crowd rose to it’s feet, cheering and yelling, as rain swept in silently across the field. A POURING rain moved across the stadium lights, like a theater curtain drawing back. And as it progressed across the field, the cheers got louder and louder; such that, at the end, as the entire stadium stood in the midst of a drenching gulleywasher, I saw an amazing sight: the crowd giving the rain a standing ovation.
I had never in my life seen people happy to be in the midst of a rainstorm. But they knew that their fortunes, and the fortunes of their land, were tied up with getting rain. It was not a nuesance to make them ten minutes late in a traffic. It was a necessity of life, lived off the land.
So, the people of Mason taught me something. The land taught me something.
What they taught me is that the earth itself is a SPIRITUAL teacher.
(Mason County bluebonnets)
Earth Day is about remembering the earth, and remembering what we have done, or can do, to save the planet. I've always been especially proud of our church, and the things we've been able to do to become environmentally sensitive.
Our church's Church and Society Commission has crafted a very simple and direct position statement on the environment during the Fall of 2006.
Citing the scripture “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it,” it calls on each member to:
Conserve and protect our Earth's natural resources,
Promote the sustained use and development of renewable energy sources, and
Persuade our elected representatives to implement public environmental policies that respect and support our world.
Just as God calls us to the action of loving our neighbor, so too God calls us to action in loving our planet. In a very literally sense, environmentalism is a stewardship issues. Stewardship means managing the resources that we have been given, and managing those in a appropriate ways. And one of the most visible ways God calls us to stewardship is through our care of the natural world.
So, our church has not just put out a statement, we've put our money where our mouth is. Every year, for the past four years, on the Sunday we celebrate Earth Day, we have the "Northaven Car Show." That sounds counter-intuitive, perhaps, on Earth Day.
But, see, a Northaven Car show is a Hybrid car show. We ask our Hybrid owners to park their Hybrids around the circular drive in front of the church, pop the hoods, and allow others to peruse the technology.
The first year, we had five or six Hybrids. The next year, we maybe had ten. I think we had twelve last year.
Two weeks ago, the 2008 Northaven Car Show featured NINETEEN Hybrids and high-mileage vehicles. (Including one Vespa scooter, which tops out at 100 mpg!!!)
We have documented at least 20 households that own Hybrids, which means that more than five percent of our member-households drive them!!! That's really exciting.
Northaven is also one of the only churches in the entire State of Texas to use 100 percent renewable energy. Last year, when our Board of Trustees entered into a new three-year energy contract, they decided that for a very small premium of a few percent more, they would provide our church with 100 percent renewable energy.
A few months back, a reporter called to ask me about this. He started by reminding me that the North Texas Conference of the United Methodist Church had chosen to require it’s electricity provider to include 10 percent renewable energy to all its member churches.
So, a DMN calls and says, “So, I hear Methodist Churches also have the choice to buy 100 percent green energy, and I wondered if you all had done that.”
And I said, “Yes, we have.”
And he said, “Yeah, I figured you all would...”
Then, he told me that he could only find three churches in the entire state that had committed to 100 percent green energy!!!
But I want to also commend what our annual conference did. Many times, we at Northaven find ourselves at odds with the greater United Methodist Church on a variety of social issues. But on the environment, I hope we can rejoice with them. Because the reporter also told me that he could find no other judicatory, no parish...no annual conference, no diocese, in any denomination, that had collectively bargained for a renewable energy requirement in an electricity contract. (Some might argue that 10 percent is not enough. Well, the contract’s up in three years. I trust it will be more next time...)
That kind of collective bargaining and organizing, on this issue of renewable energy, shows how churches can put their values into action, challenging the society to change.
Moving away from the practical, however, I want to get back to the theological and the spiritual. Because I want to suggest that there is a deep-level spiritual reason to save the planet.
Sure, there are scientific reasons. But there are also spiritual ones too. Saving our planet is also about saving our spirituality.
The truth is that the WORLD itself speaks the WORD to us, if only we will listen. Listen to this, from an early Christian saint:
Many people wrongly believe that Christianity is a religion that condones the domination of the world. And, in one sense, some of historical Christian theology HAS done this. And we should repent of that. Some people mistakenly read the passage Genesis story as not only a beautiful hymn of the creation of the world, but also as free reign for Christians to use up the world’s resources.
Add to this, Christian fundamentalists, who often believe that the end of the world is very near, and question the whole assumption of Global Warming. (If the world's about to end, why bother?)
Ironically, there are also scientific fundamentalists in our world today, who believe it’s their duty to save the world from fundamentalist Christians!!!They see the battle of "saving the world" as one that pits modern science and “enlightenment” against ignorant and harmful religion. You know, "enlightened science," don't you? You know, the folks that brought us the gas engine, every smelter in Midloathian, every styrofoam cup you've ever used, and every nuclear reactor every built.
Yep, these were not invented by theologians, but by the most enlightened science of the time. The truth is, our science has rarely been much more enlightened than our theology. And, ignoring their own technological sins --just as much as Christian fundamentalist often ignore their theological ones-- modern scientists and Christian fundamentalist engage in a "yin/yang" battle over so-called "creationism."
But what if we looked at it differently? What if we said to ourselves that modern science can give us the scientific reasons for why we should fight global warming --the beautiful story of evolution and how creatures work together in an amazing harmony and unity, and the search for a science that respects this-- but Christianity can give us a moral and spiritual compass? Spirituality can remind us that God moves in and through all creation. In fact, as the beautiful poem from the first chapters of Genesis suggests that God moves in and through the very ACT of creation. And it stands as a marvelous hymn to creation, not a replacement of scientific evolution.
The fact is that the early story of Christianity is tied to the natural world, not an enemy of it. Jesus spent most of his ministry in a rural setting, preaching on the tops of mountains, by rivers, and by the lakeshore.
Jesus told story after story that used the environment as a backdrop for making a spiritual point:
“The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed...”
“I am the Good Shepherd...”
Jesus told parables of workers in the field, not workers in a factory. And unless you realize just how difficult it is to spend all day sweltering in the hot sun, you likely cannot understand just how unfair it seemed when everybody got paid the same.
Many of Jesus’ stories and teaching used the metaphors of the earth; trusting that his audience would understand the Gospel message because they too were connected to, and understood, the earth.
“Consider the lilies of the field,” Jesus says.
“Consider the ravens of the air,” Jesus says.
And in this, I truly believe Jesus didn’t just mean, “hypothetically, conjure up the image of a bird in your brain.”
No, I think he more likely meant:
“Get yourself outside and watch the hawks circle Enchanted Rock. Watch their lazy paths, back and forth across the sky...and allow them to speak to you.”
Jesus would say, “Get yourself down to Ennis and “consider" the bluebonnets...notice how the redtailed hawks and the bluebonnets do not spin nor toil...yet God takes care of them. And if God takes care of them, will not God take care of YOU?"
You see, what I finally learned in Mason, Texas is that the natural world --cause of that initial attack of anxiety-- would also be the very think to lead me away from worry!!!
I learned I could watch the clouds move across the night sky --unilluminated by light pollution, moving in still silence-- and I learned to trust that God was caring for the world through the rain that could come from them. I learned to listen to the hawks, and "consider" the bats, and trust that the shooting starts were messages about how, as Indiana poet Max Erhman once said, "the universe is unfolding as it should."
But here's the paradox: If we do not take care of the earth, we not only LOSE the earth as a natural resource, we lose the earth as a SPIRITUAL TEACHER!
You see, this is the final, terrible irony. God tells us to consider the ravens of the air as a way to learn not to worry. God DOES care for the natural world. God is working in and through our ecosystems and evolutionary processes to create an amazing message of the Gospel.
But we human beings have the power to destroy those ravens...the only creature with the power to ruin the metaphor is US!!! And, as we lose our natural world, we paradoxically lose that opportunity to calm our worries by considering the lilies!!
“Consider the lilies of the field” is not just a call to save an ecosytem. It’s also a call to honor the earth as a spiritual teacher. We must save the earth not out of some dull and dry scientific duty to avoid greenhouse gases, but because our spiritual destiny is tied up with the Earth’s destiny. As Luther said: God speaks the Gospel through the birds, and the trees and the stars.
So, let us save the Earth, not just for the Earth’s sake, not just for the sake of our physical health, but also for the sake of our own souls too.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!" -- Jesus of Nazareth
I thought the appropriate way to start this essay on the environment is to tell you about the first time I had a full-blown anxiety attack. Doesn’t that sound like the right way to start?
(Yeah...I thought so....)
The first time I ever had full blown anxiety attack, I was living in the small town of Mason, Texas in the Texas Hill Country. I had just moved to Mason from Dallas, straight from the campus of Perkins, to begin a year-long internship among the fine people there.
I really loved my time in Mason. Folks there are are very provincial in many ways. They are insular in many ways. But they are among the kindest people I've ever known, and they taught me a lot.
Mason is precisely 100 miles from Austin, 100 miles from San Angelo, and 100 miles from San Antonio. So yes, crassly, it’s 100 miles from anywhere. Those distances have allowed it to avoid many of the changes that have come upon the rest of the Texas Hill Country. Unlike Fredericksburg ---the next town due south-- it’s too North and too far West to have yet been invaded by the city folks who buy up the main street shops, hoping to live out a “Green Acres” episode.
Mason is 43 miles from the nearest real hospital and 70 miles from the nearest major medical center. And it was perhaps these last facts that contributed to my first real anxiety attack. For you see, one night, very early in my stay there, I found myself unable to sleep. I found myself completely awake, heart racing, and breath quick. I could not settle down.
I got up, I looked through the screen door into the black abyss of night, and that just made it worse. And I had an anxiety attack. Because I suddenly realized that I WAS 100 miles from anywhere.
I suddenly realized --perhaps for the first time in my life-- that the vast majority of God’s green earth was, well, GREEN. It wasn’t made of concrete. It wasn’t made of streets. The grass wasn’t contained in little small square containers. The trees weren’t manicured and maintained by landscaper.
As I stared off into the darkness of that night, realizing that I was surrounded --for hundreds of miles in any direction-- by nothing but cattle, cactus, armadillos and rattlesnakes. And I freaked.
My anxiety did not go away overnight. As I look back on it now, it only gradually went away as I came to know and appreciate those people and their land.
They invited me to their ranches, and we would walk the pastures. I saw amazing sights there; like the day 40-50 white tail deer leaped over a barbedwire fence with the synchronized elegance and grace of a ballet company.
On my days off, I often drove the 30-some-miles over to Enchanted Rock, and sat on the top of that big boulder, reading Thomas Merton, feeling the wind on my face, watching hawks circle lazily above my head like long-lost friends. Folks from Mason invited me to see the marvel of an actual ”bat cave” at dusk; where thousands of bats trail out of the cave, and into the night sky, like a long strand of twirling DNA.
I learned that if I found myself getting anxious late at night, I could drive about a quarter mile out of town, park my truck on the side of the road, and stare up at the stars....an incredible carpet of stars that stretched out before me. Seemingly infinite. Every single night out there, I saw no less that five shooting stars.
Eventually, I learned to appreciate the vastness of the great outdoors. To listen to it. To learn from it.
The people of Mason taught me about it too. One of my first Friday nights in town, there was, of course, a high school football game. EVERYBODY in town went to the high school football game. So, I did too.
The Mason “Punchers” (short for “cowpunchers") were playing some 2-A rival from somewhere. There was a storm forecast for that night, and it had apparently been a while since it had rained. Somewhere around halftime, I got bored and decided to walk around the stadium. I was just getting to the visitor’s side, when I heard the biggest yell of the night come up from the crowd, as if some kid had just broken off a 90-yard run.
But, no. The crowd rose to it’s feet, cheering and yelling, as rain swept in silently across the field. A POURING rain moved across the stadium lights, like a theater curtain drawing back. And as it progressed across the field, the cheers got louder and louder; such that, at the end, as the entire stadium stood in the midst of a drenching gulleywasher, I saw an amazing sight: the crowd giving the rain a standing ovation.
I had never in my life seen people happy to be in the midst of a rainstorm. But they knew that their fortunes, and the fortunes of their land, were tied up with getting rain. It was not a nuesance to make them ten minutes late in a traffic. It was a necessity of life, lived off the land.
So, the people of Mason taught me something. The land taught me something.
What they taught me is that the earth itself is a SPIRITUAL teacher.
(Mason County bluebonnets)
Earth Day is about remembering the earth, and remembering what we have done, or can do, to save the planet. I've always been especially proud of our church, and the things we've been able to do to become environmentally sensitive.
Our church's Church and Society Commission has crafted a very simple and direct position statement on the environment during the Fall of 2006.
Citing the scripture “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it,” it calls on each member to:
Conserve and protect our Earth's natural resources,
Promote the sustained use and development of renewable energy sources, and
Persuade our elected representatives to implement public environmental policies that respect and support our world.
Just as God calls us to the action of loving our neighbor, so too God calls us to action in loving our planet. In a very literally sense, environmentalism is a stewardship issues. Stewardship means managing the resources that we have been given, and managing those in a appropriate ways. And one of the most visible ways God calls us to stewardship is through our care of the natural world.
So, our church has not just put out a statement, we've put our money where our mouth is. Every year, for the past four years, on the Sunday we celebrate Earth Day, we have the "Northaven Car Show." That sounds counter-intuitive, perhaps, on Earth Day.
But, see, a Northaven Car show is a Hybrid car show. We ask our Hybrid owners to park their Hybrids around the circular drive in front of the church, pop the hoods, and allow others to peruse the technology.
The first year, we had five or six Hybrids. The next year, we maybe had ten. I think we had twelve last year.
Two weeks ago, the 2008 Northaven Car Show featured NINETEEN Hybrids and high-mileage vehicles. (Including one Vespa scooter, which tops out at 100 mpg!!!)
We have documented at least 20 households that own Hybrids, which means that more than five percent of our member-households drive them!!! That's really exciting.
Northaven is also one of the only churches in the entire State of Texas to use 100 percent renewable energy. Last year, when our Board of Trustees entered into a new three-year energy contract, they decided that for a very small premium of a few percent more, they would provide our church with 100 percent renewable energy.
A few months back, a reporter called to ask me about this. He started by reminding me that the North Texas Conference of the United Methodist Church had chosen to require it’s electricity provider to include 10 percent renewable energy to all its member churches.
So, a DMN calls and says, “So, I hear Methodist Churches also have the choice to buy 100 percent green energy, and I wondered if you all had done that.”
And I said, “Yes, we have.”
And he said, “Yeah, I figured you all would...”
Then, he told me that he could only find three churches in the entire state that had committed to 100 percent green energy!!!
But I want to also commend what our annual conference did. Many times, we at Northaven find ourselves at odds with the greater United Methodist Church on a variety of social issues. But on the environment, I hope we can rejoice with them. Because the reporter also told me that he could find no other judicatory, no parish...no annual conference, no diocese, in any denomination, that had collectively bargained for a renewable energy requirement in an electricity contract. (Some might argue that 10 percent is not enough. Well, the contract’s up in three years. I trust it will be more next time...)
That kind of collective bargaining and organizing, on this issue of renewable energy, shows how churches can put their values into action, challenging the society to change.
Moving away from the practical, however, I want to get back to the theological and the spiritual. Because I want to suggest that there is a deep-level spiritual reason to save the planet.
Sure, there are scientific reasons. But there are also spiritual ones too. Saving our planet is also about saving our spirituality.
The truth is that the WORLD itself speaks the WORD to us, if only we will listen. Listen to this, from an early Christian saint:
“Some people, in order to discover God, read books. But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things. Look above you! Look below you! Read it. God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink. Instead (God) set before your eyes the things that (God) had made. Can you ask for a louder voice than that?” -- St. Augustine
Many people wrongly believe that Christianity is a religion that condones the domination of the world. And, in one sense, some of historical Christian theology HAS done this. And we should repent of that. Some people mistakenly read the passage Genesis story as not only a beautiful hymn of the creation of the world, but also as free reign for Christians to use up the world’s resources.
Add to this, Christian fundamentalists, who often believe that the end of the world is very near, and question the whole assumption of Global Warming. (If the world's about to end, why bother?)
Ironically, there are also scientific fundamentalists in our world today, who believe it’s their duty to save the world from fundamentalist Christians!!!They see the battle of "saving the world" as one that pits modern science and “enlightenment” against ignorant and harmful religion. You know, "enlightened science," don't you? You know, the folks that brought us the gas engine, every smelter in Midloathian, every styrofoam cup you've ever used, and every nuclear reactor every built.
Yep, these were not invented by theologians, but by the most enlightened science of the time. The truth is, our science has rarely been much more enlightened than our theology. And, ignoring their own technological sins --just as much as Christian fundamentalist often ignore their theological ones-- modern scientists and Christian fundamentalist engage in a "yin/yang" battle over so-called "creationism."
But what if we looked at it differently? What if we said to ourselves that modern science can give us the scientific reasons for why we should fight global warming --the beautiful story of evolution and how creatures work together in an amazing harmony and unity, and the search for a science that respects this-- but Christianity can give us a moral and spiritual compass? Spirituality can remind us that God moves in and through all creation. In fact, as the beautiful poem from the first chapters of Genesis suggests that God moves in and through the very ACT of creation. And it stands as a marvelous hymn to creation, not a replacement of scientific evolution.
“God writes the Gospel, not in the bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.” -- Martin Luther
The fact is that the early story of Christianity is tied to the natural world, not an enemy of it. Jesus spent most of his ministry in a rural setting, preaching on the tops of mountains, by rivers, and by the lakeshore.
Jesus told story after story that used the environment as a backdrop for making a spiritual point:
“The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed...”
“I am the Good Shepherd...”
Jesus told parables of workers in the field, not workers in a factory. And unless you realize just how difficult it is to spend all day sweltering in the hot sun, you likely cannot understand just how unfair it seemed when everybody got paid the same.
Many of Jesus’ stories and teaching used the metaphors of the earth; trusting that his audience would understand the Gospel message because they too were connected to, and understood, the earth.
“Consider the lilies of the field,” Jesus says.
“Consider the ravens of the air,” Jesus says.
And in this, I truly believe Jesus didn’t just mean, “hypothetically, conjure up the image of a bird in your brain.”
No, I think he more likely meant:
“Get yourself outside and watch the hawks circle Enchanted Rock. Watch their lazy paths, back and forth across the sky...and allow them to speak to you.”
Jesus would say, “Get yourself down to Ennis and “consider" the bluebonnets...notice how the redtailed hawks and the bluebonnets do not spin nor toil...yet God takes care of them. And if God takes care of them, will not God take care of YOU?"
You see, what I finally learned in Mason, Texas is that the natural world --cause of that initial attack of anxiety-- would also be the very think to lead me away from worry!!!
I learned I could watch the clouds move across the night sky --unilluminated by light pollution, moving in still silence-- and I learned to trust that God was caring for the world through the rain that could come from them. I learned to listen to the hawks, and "consider" the bats, and trust that the shooting starts were messages about how, as Indiana poet Max Erhman once said, "the universe is unfolding as it should."
But here's the paradox: If we do not take care of the earth, we not only LOSE the earth as a natural resource, we lose the earth as a SPIRITUAL TEACHER!
You see, this is the final, terrible irony. God tells us to consider the ravens of the air as a way to learn not to worry. God DOES care for the natural world. God is working in and through our ecosystems and evolutionary processes to create an amazing message of the Gospel.
But we human beings have the power to destroy those ravens...the only creature with the power to ruin the metaphor is US!!! And, as we lose our natural world, we paradoxically lose that opportunity to calm our worries by considering the lilies!!
“Consider the lilies of the field” is not just a call to save an ecosytem. It’s also a call to honor the earth as a spiritual teacher. We must save the earth not out of some dull and dry scientific duty to avoid greenhouse gases, but because our spiritual destiny is tied up with the Earth’s destiny. As Luther said: God speaks the Gospel through the birds, and the trees and the stars.
So, let us save the Earth, not just for the Earth’s sake, not just for the sake of our physical health, but also for the sake of our own souls too.
The Holy Family: A Meditation
Jan/05/2008 05:16 PM | Permalink
A quick trip to Starbucks this morning reminded me
that --for all most of the world knows-- the
Christmas season is over. They've taken down most of
their holiday displays. "Christmas Blend" is in the
sale rack.
Know what's funny, though? Technically, we're still in the Christmas season. Yes, despite what you've been told, the Christmas season does not begin the day after Thanksgiving and end December 26th. That's the Corporate Christmas. If you're a fan of big corporations and conspicuous consumption, this is the season for you. (I've actually seen decorations in stores on my birthday: September 21st, the Fall Equinox!!!)
The actual Christmas season --at least the way it was originally celebrated-- ran through January 6th; a day known as "Epiphany." That's the day dedicated to celebrating the coming of the Wise Men. The days between Christmas Day and Epiphany are precisely twelve in number.
Yep. That's where the song comes from. (Didn't you always wonder?)
During these last days of the Christmas season, I usually break out WH Auden's "For The Time Being." Re-reading it is one of my favorite holiday traditions. In my view, it's one of the most beautiful Christmas writings ever created. Written in another dark time of war, it's been read ever since by many, as a Christmas/Winter tradition. I strongly recommend it to everyone. Here's a great review by an ethics professor from Loyola. It's inspired many since it was first written over 50-years-ago; including the title of a CD title you may have heard of.
Every year, something new strikes me in this intelligent, thoughtful, and moving work. And this year, I have been drawn to the character of Joseph.
As you may remember, Joseph begins the story engaged to Mary. They are both nothing more than kids. The marriage is probably arranged. But then, the rumors start...rumors that she's already pregnant, and that he isn't the father. As the Bible tells it, an angel comes to Joseph in a dream to tell him to take Mary as his bride. The Bible never tells us Joseph's state of mind. In fact, it doesn't give him one single line of dialogue.
But WH Auden gives him plenty. At first, Joseph appears as an eager fiancee, ready to meet his intended. But the rumors whispered by the "Chorus" are already ringing in his ears:
"Joseph
My shoes were shined, my pants were cleaned and pressed,
And I was hurrying to meet
My own true Love ...
Chorus
Joseph, you have heard
What Mary says occurred;
Yes, it may be so.
Is it likely? No."
So, Joseph is left with this doubts. And while impressed with "Gabriel's" visit, he asks for a little "proof" he can hang his hat on:
"Joseph:
All I ask is one
Important and elegant proof
That what my Love had done
Was really at your will
And that your will is Love.
Gabriel:
No, you must believe;
Be silent, and sit still."
Turns out, the way the Bible tells it, events unfold exactly as the angel says they will. So, Joseph takes Mary as his wife, and they become a family together. They become what the culture has know for two thousand years as the Holy Family.
Joseph has three more dreams, for a grand total of four. And in addition to thinking about Joseph, I've been thinking about these four dreams, and what they teach us about the Holy Family.
Here are the thoughts in my head today:
Who is the Holy Family in our world?
Where do WE see the Holy Family in our day?
What would they look like?
How can we welcome them into our world?
Let's look at each dream, and what it tell us...
Dream One: The Holy Family was a Family of Choice
"But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit."
Joseph is encouraged to take Mary as his wife and form a family of love, even if there is no family of biology. That's the first clue about the Holy Family in our world today. Perhaps in our world today, the Holy Family is one where people come together out of choice --out of love-- and out of commitment to each other, whether or not they are related to each other by blood.
Our church is about 35-40 percent gay and lesbian. (We've actually never done a "count." It's a guess...) So, we know something about "families of choice." Those of us who are gay and lesbian form families of choice and infuse their homes with love. Those of who are traditional "blended families" do the same. Still more care for elderly relatives and in-laws; sometimes even people not related to us by blood. Families of choice come in all varieties these days.
In a sense, the original Holy Family was also a "family of choice." As the Bible tells it, Mary was chosen to give birth to Jesus and she accepted that role. Joseph made the choice to be a father to Jesus, despite knowing he wasn't part of creating the child. The story is clear that he treated Jesus as a son. The three of them together formed a beautiful bond as a family of choice.
So, perhaps one of the things we can do to welcome the Holy Family into our world is to celebrate and support all who form circles of love and families of choice, whether or not they are related by blood.
Dream Two: The Holy Family was a Migrant Family
"Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod."
The second dream warns Joseph to get out of Dodge as quick as he can. King Herod is about to search for Jesus by moving house-to-house and killing every male child under age two. It's a horrible story of empire-gone-wrong, of the hubris and fear of leaders who feel trapped in a corner, worried that their power is waning.
The only good option for the Holy Family seems to be to flee to Egypt. They apparently stay there in Egypt until King Herod has died. Quite literally, then, the Holy Family was an immigrant family.
The issue of immigration continues to be an incredible "hot button" issue in our world today. Last week, the Dallas Morning News named "the Illegal Immigrant" as their "Texan of the Year."
I don't know what all the political considerations were in Jesus' time. I don't know if the Holy Family was part of a greater migration. If there was social instability in Israel -- if Herod really did try to kill all the boys under two -- then it's likely the Holy Family was not alone in its desire to flee.
But it does seem clear that they were welcomed into Egypt as temporary guests. Who knows if they were welcomed with gusto or grudgingly? With compassion or suspicion? Who knows what opportunities were there for them? The Bible doesn't say. It just says they spent some time as immigrants in the land of Egypt.
If you look around the globe today, you find that migration is taking place on an almost unprecedented scale. My friend Laura Trent is a preacher in Vienna, Austria. She emailed recently about the phenomenon of migrants from former communist bloc countries coming into Western Europe in search of a better life. Migrants from the Middle East and Africa are also flooding there too. Migrants have been pouring across the borders of Iraq into Iran and Syria. Migrants from one part of Asia are pouring into other parts of Asia. And, as you know, migrants from Mexico and Central America are coming across our border in record numbers.
I don't have all the answers. But I can tell you that this Bible text challenges me. It challenges me to remember that the Holy Family was a migrant family. And it challenges me to ask this: what if God is calling all of us, all over our planet, to see migrant families as "holy" too?
Dreams Three and Four: The Holy Family was a Refugee Family
"When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20“Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.”
"But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee."
Joseph's third dream tells him it's safe to travel back to Israel. Once they have returned, the fourth dream tells Joseph that it's best not to return to Judea, but to go to Galilee instead . It would be safer there. After all, Herod has been succeeded by a king who is just as cruel and violent.
The third says, "Yes, come back to Israel," but the fourth says, "But be careful not to come to Judah."
Even when they returned to their country, they would not be allowed to return to their homeland. And perhaps the message of these dreams is to help us recall that many families in our world still live under social repression and fear. Many of the world's migrant families are not formed because of simple economics -- though some certainly are -- but some are the result of social unrest, religious prejudice, civil wars, famines, genocides.
Whether it's civil war in Iraq and Kenya, or genocide in Darfur, many millions of families are currently, right now, living as refugees and unable to return to their homelands.
So it challenges me to ask: what if we could see refugee families as "holy" too?
Closing Thoughts
The Christmas message is the message of God incarnate in our world. It's about God coming to earth in human form. It's a message that God does not leave this world alone, and that this world is not godless and soul-less, as it sometimes may feel. In fact, the good news of great joy is that the Messiah is born IN to the world. God loved the world enough to live IN the world ... to "dwell among us."
At the same time, we live with the tension that our world's in a hell of a mess. Wars. Famines. Social injustice. Evil in the name of religion itself. The juxtaposition of the Christmas message of hope and the broken, hell-ish, modern world, is a deep chasm to bridge. But if we are to believe the Christmas message at all, then surely it must mean God come to earth, even in the midst of the worst of the world's conditions.
So, maybe it's truer than we could imagine to suggest that "Holy Families" of today are:
-- Families of choice
-- Migrant families
-- Refugee families
And just maybe our calling is to do what we can to welcome these families into our world --and not see them a nuisance on TV we wish would just go away-- but the heart of God's presence among us.
The Bible challenges us to see the original family in this story as "holy." But Mary and Joseph were probably not more than teenagers. They probably didn't have what we would consider a "high school" education. They had few financial resources. And yet, our Christmas story tells of a child born into a humble stable, to humble parents.
The message not to be missed is that God comes into every part of this world. God is a God for all people. God is a God who loves all the world.
One of my favorite modern Christmas hymns is called "Star Child." The chorus is a very simple restatement of the Christmas Hope that we might one day see all the world's children as holy and blessed...that we might world for a world where every kind of family is seen as "holy."
The chorus says:
"This year, this year, let the day arrive when Christmas comes for everyone...
Everyone alive."
Let it be so.
Know what's funny, though? Technically, we're still in the Christmas season. Yes, despite what you've been told, the Christmas season does not begin the day after Thanksgiving and end December 26th. That's the Corporate Christmas. If you're a fan of big corporations and conspicuous consumption, this is the season for you. (I've actually seen decorations in stores on my birthday: September 21st, the Fall Equinox!!!)
The actual Christmas season --at least the way it was originally celebrated-- ran through January 6th; a day known as "Epiphany." That's the day dedicated to celebrating the coming of the Wise Men. The days between Christmas Day and Epiphany are precisely twelve in number.
Yep. That's where the song comes from. (Didn't you always wonder?)
During these last days of the Christmas season, I usually break out WH Auden's "For The Time Being." Re-reading it is one of my favorite holiday traditions. In my view, it's one of the most beautiful Christmas writings ever created. Written in another dark time of war, it's been read ever since by many, as a Christmas/Winter tradition. I strongly recommend it to everyone. Here's a great review by an ethics professor from Loyola. It's inspired many since it was first written over 50-years-ago; including the title of a CD title you may have heard of.
Every year, something new strikes me in this intelligent, thoughtful, and moving work. And this year, I have been drawn to the character of Joseph.
As you may remember, Joseph begins the story engaged to Mary. They are both nothing more than kids. The marriage is probably arranged. But then, the rumors start...rumors that she's already pregnant, and that he isn't the father. As the Bible tells it, an angel comes to Joseph in a dream to tell him to take Mary as his bride. The Bible never tells us Joseph's state of mind. In fact, it doesn't give him one single line of dialogue.
But WH Auden gives him plenty. At first, Joseph appears as an eager fiancee, ready to meet his intended. But the rumors whispered by the "Chorus" are already ringing in his ears:
"Joseph
My shoes were shined, my pants were cleaned and pressed,
And I was hurrying to meet
My own true Love ...
Chorus
Joseph, you have heard
What Mary says occurred;
Yes, it may be so.
Is it likely? No."
So, Joseph is left with this doubts. And while impressed with "Gabriel's" visit, he asks for a little "proof" he can hang his hat on:
"Joseph:
All I ask is one
Important and elegant proof
That what my Love had done
Was really at your will
And that your will is Love.
Gabriel:
No, you must believe;
Be silent, and sit still."
Turns out, the way the Bible tells it, events unfold exactly as the angel says they will. So, Joseph takes Mary as his wife, and they become a family together. They become what the culture has know for two thousand years as the Holy Family.
Joseph has three more dreams, for a grand total of four. And in addition to thinking about Joseph, I've been thinking about these four dreams, and what they teach us about the Holy Family.
Here are the thoughts in my head today:
Who is the Holy Family in our world?
Where do WE see the Holy Family in our day?
What would they look like?
How can we welcome them into our world?
Let's look at each dream, and what it tell us...
Dream One: The Holy Family was a Family of Choice
"But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit."
Joseph is encouraged to take Mary as his wife and form a family of love, even if there is no family of biology. That's the first clue about the Holy Family in our world today. Perhaps in our world today, the Holy Family is one where people come together out of choice --out of love-- and out of commitment to each other, whether or not they are related to each other by blood.
Our church is about 35-40 percent gay and lesbian. (We've actually never done a "count." It's a guess...) So, we know something about "families of choice." Those of us who are gay and lesbian form families of choice and infuse their homes with love. Those of who are traditional "blended families" do the same. Still more care for elderly relatives and in-laws; sometimes even people not related to us by blood. Families of choice come in all varieties these days.
In a sense, the original Holy Family was also a "family of choice." As the Bible tells it, Mary was chosen to give birth to Jesus and she accepted that role. Joseph made the choice to be a father to Jesus, despite knowing he wasn't part of creating the child. The story is clear that he treated Jesus as a son. The three of them together formed a beautiful bond as a family of choice.
So, perhaps one of the things we can do to welcome the Holy Family into our world is to celebrate and support all who form circles of love and families of choice, whether or not they are related by blood.
Dream Two: The Holy Family was a Migrant Family
"Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod."
The second dream warns Joseph to get out of Dodge as quick as he can. King Herod is about to search for Jesus by moving house-to-house and killing every male child under age two. It's a horrible story of empire-gone-wrong, of the hubris and fear of leaders who feel trapped in a corner, worried that their power is waning.
The only good option for the Holy Family seems to be to flee to Egypt. They apparently stay there in Egypt until King Herod has died. Quite literally, then, the Holy Family was an immigrant family.
The issue of immigration continues to be an incredible "hot button" issue in our world today. Last week, the Dallas Morning News named "the Illegal Immigrant" as their "Texan of the Year."
I don't know what all the political considerations were in Jesus' time. I don't know if the Holy Family was part of a greater migration. If there was social instability in Israel -- if Herod really did try to kill all the boys under two -- then it's likely the Holy Family was not alone in its desire to flee.
But it does seem clear that they were welcomed into Egypt as temporary guests. Who knows if they were welcomed with gusto or grudgingly? With compassion or suspicion? Who knows what opportunities were there for them? The Bible doesn't say. It just says they spent some time as immigrants in the land of Egypt.
If you look around the globe today, you find that migration is taking place on an almost unprecedented scale. My friend Laura Trent is a preacher in Vienna, Austria. She emailed recently about the phenomenon of migrants from former communist bloc countries coming into Western Europe in search of a better life. Migrants from the Middle East and Africa are also flooding there too. Migrants have been pouring across the borders of Iraq into Iran and Syria. Migrants from one part of Asia are pouring into other parts of Asia. And, as you know, migrants from Mexico and Central America are coming across our border in record numbers.
I don't have all the answers. But I can tell you that this Bible text challenges me. It challenges me to remember that the Holy Family was a migrant family. And it challenges me to ask this: what if God is calling all of us, all over our planet, to see migrant families as "holy" too?
Dreams Three and Four: The Holy Family was a Refugee Family
"When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20“Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.”
"But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee."
Joseph's third dream tells him it's safe to travel back to Israel. Once they have returned, the fourth dream tells Joseph that it's best not to return to Judea, but to go to Galilee instead . It would be safer there. After all, Herod has been succeeded by a king who is just as cruel and violent.
The third says, "Yes, come back to Israel," but the fourth says, "But be careful not to come to Judah."
Even when they returned to their country, they would not be allowed to return to their homeland. And perhaps the message of these dreams is to help us recall that many families in our world still live under social repression and fear. Many of the world's migrant families are not formed because of simple economics -- though some certainly are -- but some are the result of social unrest, religious prejudice, civil wars, famines, genocides.
Whether it's civil war in Iraq and Kenya, or genocide in Darfur, many millions of families are currently, right now, living as refugees and unable to return to their homelands.
So it challenges me to ask: what if we could see refugee families as "holy" too?
Closing Thoughts
The Christmas message is the message of God incarnate in our world. It's about God coming to earth in human form. It's a message that God does not leave this world alone, and that this world is not godless and soul-less, as it sometimes may feel. In fact, the good news of great joy is that the Messiah is born IN to the world. God loved the world enough to live IN the world ... to "dwell among us."
At the same time, we live with the tension that our world's in a hell of a mess. Wars. Famines. Social injustice. Evil in the name of religion itself. The juxtaposition of the Christmas message of hope and the broken, hell-ish, modern world, is a deep chasm to bridge. But if we are to believe the Christmas message at all, then surely it must mean God come to earth, even in the midst of the worst of the world's conditions.
So, maybe it's truer than we could imagine to suggest that "Holy Families" of today are:
-- Families of choice
-- Migrant families
-- Refugee families
And just maybe our calling is to do what we can to welcome these families into our world --and not see them a nuisance on TV we wish would just go away-- but the heart of God's presence among us.
The Bible challenges us to see the original family in this story as "holy." But Mary and Joseph were probably not more than teenagers. They probably didn't have what we would consider a "high school" education. They had few financial resources. And yet, our Christmas story tells of a child born into a humble stable, to humble parents.
The message not to be missed is that God comes into every part of this world. God is a God for all people. God is a God who loves all the world.
One of my favorite modern Christmas hymns is called "Star Child." The chorus is a very simple restatement of the Christmas Hope that we might one day see all the world's children as holy and blessed...that we might world for a world where every kind of family is seen as "holy."
The chorus says:
"This year, this year, let the day arrive when Christmas comes for everyone...
Everyone alive."
Let it be so.
Christmas Lists: A Meditation
Dec/25/2007 12:06 AM | Permalink
It's hard to tell just where we are with Santa this
year. Maria and her parents are doing something of a
"Don't Ask Don't Tell" dance with each other around
all the major issues.
But she did go to see him Saturday:
(Dennise's iPhone)
And we found the list below in her room. It appears to be a draft, and thus the bad spelling. (She's got my sense of spelling, which is no cents at all...
) But I could care less about the spelling though,
since I'm so touched by the sentiment:
Isn't that great? Couldn't be prouder.
And, lest we forget, another young girl named Mary --slightly older than my Maria, and much more involved with this whole Christmas story from the very beginning-- spoke some powerful words long ago that we still sometimes hear today.
When she was told she was to bear son, Mary broke out in a long oration we have come to call the Magnificat. Looked at from a certain point of view, it's also a list. Perhaps we could even call it the original Christmas list.
If so, it was not a list of goodies she wanted from Santa. It was a list of things Mary foresaw would happen upon the birth of the Messiah.
I have taken the liberty of bolding the specific items that make up Mary's list, for your easy identification.
From Luke, Chapter 1 (NRSV, inclusive):
"And Mary said,
'My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for God has looked with favour on the lowliness of God's servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is God's name.
God's mercy is for those who fear God
from generation to generation.
God has shown strength with God's arm;
God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
God has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
God has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.'"
Did you catch the items in this list?
Mary lists that God has:
1. looked with favor on the lowly
2. scattered the proud
3. brought down the powerful
4. lifted up the lowly
5. filled the hungry with good things
Quite a list, huh?
As you are busy exchanging gifts with your nearest and dearest in the next few days, I encourage you to remember this original meaning of Christmas. Christmas, as both my Maria and Mary seem to know, is about remembering the poor. It's about remembering that God remembers the poor. If God comes to earth, then surely God comes into not only the most powerful and mighty places, but also into the forgotten and lonely ones too. If God truly is incarnate, if we can see God around us, then surely God is acting within the lives of the lowly and the poor.
A lot of folks I know who are not very "religious" sometimes talk about the ways that they see God in the world...
...through nature...through art...through music...through hugs and smiles...through the workings of science and logic....
All these, in their own ways, are examples of the Christmas story; because Christmas is about remembering God coming into this earth, and "dwelling among us." Christmas is about the God you can see everyday, all around you, if you only have the eyes to.
----------------------------------------
It's likely too late for you to do anything about it for tomorrow, since it's already Christmas Eve now. But perhaps sometime over these holidays, you too will remember the poor?
Maybe you could make a contribution to an agency you trust. Maybe you and your loved ones could find ways to connect with, and serve, the poor in our society.
Maybe you could make a commitment to start paying opening your eyes to everyone around you....make a commitment to intentionally notice the poor, the meek, the suffering...and to remembering that God, far from abandoning them, gives them a special place on that original Christmas list.
Even better than remembering them just on tomorrow, perhaps you could commit to remembering them each and every day this next year.
Wouldn't that make a difference?
But she did go to see him Saturday:
(Dennise's iPhone)
And we found the list below in her room. It appears to be a draft, and thus the bad spelling. (She's got my sense of spelling, which is no cents at all...
) But I could care less about the spelling though,
since I'm so touched by the sentiment:
Isn't that great? Couldn't be prouder.
And, lest we forget, another young girl named Mary --slightly older than my Maria, and much more involved with this whole Christmas story from the very beginning-- spoke some powerful words long ago that we still sometimes hear today.
When she was told she was to bear son, Mary broke out in a long oration we have come to call the Magnificat. Looked at from a certain point of view, it's also a list. Perhaps we could even call it the original Christmas list.
If so, it was not a list of goodies she wanted from Santa. It was a list of things Mary foresaw would happen upon the birth of the Messiah.
I have taken the liberty of bolding the specific items that make up Mary's list, for your easy identification.
From Luke, Chapter 1 (NRSV, inclusive):
"And Mary said,
'My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for God has looked with favour on the lowliness of God's servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is God's name.
God's mercy is for those who fear God
from generation to generation.
God has shown strength with God's arm;
God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
God has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
God has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.'"
Did you catch the items in this list?
Mary lists that God has:
1. looked with favor on the lowly
2. scattered the proud
3. brought down the powerful
4. lifted up the lowly
5. filled the hungry with good things
Quite a list, huh?
As you are busy exchanging gifts with your nearest and dearest in the next few days, I encourage you to remember this original meaning of Christmas. Christmas, as both my Maria and Mary seem to know, is about remembering the poor. It's about remembering that God remembers the poor. If God comes to earth, then surely God comes into not only the most powerful and mighty places, but also into the forgotten and lonely ones too. If God truly is incarnate, if we can see God around us, then surely God is acting within the lives of the lowly and the poor.
A lot of folks I know who are not very "religious" sometimes talk about the ways that they see God in the world...
...through nature...through art...through music...through hugs and smiles...through the workings of science and logic....
All these, in their own ways, are examples of the Christmas story; because Christmas is about remembering God coming into this earth, and "dwelling among us." Christmas is about the God you can see everyday, all around you, if you only have the eyes to.
----------------------------------------
It's likely too late for you to do anything about it for tomorrow, since it's already Christmas Eve now. But perhaps sometime over these holidays, you too will remember the poor?
Maybe you could make a contribution to an agency you trust. Maybe you and your loved ones could find ways to connect with, and serve, the poor in our society.
Maybe you could make a commitment to start paying opening your eyes to everyone around you....make a commitment to intentionally notice the poor, the meek, the suffering...and to remembering that God, far from abandoning them, gives them a special place on that original Christmas list.
Even better than remembering them just on tomorrow, perhaps you could commit to remembering them each and every day this next year.
Wouldn't that make a difference?
My Immigration Blog Gets Republished
Dec/07/2007 04:20 PM | Permalink
Dallas Area Progressive Christian Alliance is a small
group of dedicated believers who happen to believe
that not only can you be liberal/progressive and be a
Christian, but that the Gospel perhaps even indicates
a kind of progressivism that many do not typically
associate with the faith They seek to stand as a
counter to the pervasiveness of the "religious right"
and offer people an alternative.
You can check out their website here.
Back in April of 2006, I preached a sermon on the morning of the "MegaMarch." The DAPCA is currently unpacking the issue of immigration, and they have republished this sermon on their website. You can read it here.
I also revised a version of it immediately following the March, once I'd gotten home. It incorporates my own experiences of marching in this protest of 500,000 people through the streets of downtown...the largest peaceful protest in Dallas' history. You can read that reflection here
.
I am grateful that this group has shown an interested in my writing, and am honored it if helps anyone unpack these issues for themselves. Thanks to Kim and all the other great folks in the Dallas Area Progressive Christian Alliance.
We're honored to have this group hold their regular meetings at Northaven, and you can probably find out more about when and where those meetings are at their website above.
Eric
ps: I've also done some other follow-up writing on immigration that you might find helpful.
I wrote this about the "cost" of immigrants to our society, using local healthcare as an example.There is a ton of misinformation about how much immigrants cost our health care system, and this blog attempted to counter some of it.
I don't really want to stir up a hornets nest with any of this. Immigration seems to be losing steam as the "issue du jour" (Or...that should be "del dia?").
In fact, it just rates 5th in recent polls where Americans are asked to list the most pressing issues facing our country today...and, actually, rates 6th among Republicans. (!)
So, maybe it's best to let the sleeping dogs lie.
But, if you're interested, this stuff could be helpful to you...EF
You can check out their website here.
Back in April of 2006, I preached a sermon on the morning of the "MegaMarch." The DAPCA is currently unpacking the issue of immigration, and they have republished this sermon on their website. You can read it here.
I also revised a version of it immediately following the March, once I'd gotten home. It incorporates my own experiences of marching in this protest of 500,000 people through the streets of downtown...the largest peaceful protest in Dallas' history. You can read that reflection here
.
I am grateful that this group has shown an interested in my writing, and am honored it if helps anyone unpack these issues for themselves. Thanks to Kim and all the other great folks in the Dallas Area Progressive Christian Alliance.
We're honored to have this group hold their regular meetings at Northaven, and you can probably find out more about when and where those meetings are at their website above.
Eric
ps: I've also done some other follow-up writing on immigration that you might find helpful.
I wrote this about the "cost" of immigrants to our society, using local healthcare as an example.There is a ton of misinformation about how much immigrants cost our health care system, and this blog attempted to counter some of it.
I don't really want to stir up a hornets nest with any of this. Immigration seems to be losing steam as the "issue du jour" (Or...that should be "del dia?").
In fact, it just rates 5th in recent polls where Americans are asked to list the most pressing issues facing our country today...and, actually, rates 6th among Republicans. (!)
So, maybe it's best to let the sleeping dogs lie.
But, if you're interested, this stuff could be helpful to you...EF
The Good Samaritan
Jul/27/2007 05:23 PM | Permalink
(The following is an edited version of a sermon givin
at
Northaven Church
on July 15th)
"Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?"
The expert in the law replied, "The one who had mercy on him."
Jesus told him, "Go and do likewise."
What new is there to say about the parable of the Good Samaritan? It is, arguably, one of the foundational moral stories of our society. It has meaning, it holds a place of honor, even in non-religious circles.
So what new is there to say?
One of the truths I am continually relearning is: truths I know like the back of my hand are often precisely the truths I need to re-hear again. We tend to take for granted that which is familiar. We tend to overlook the power of the familiar tale because we are so certain we know it already, have heard it before, and have digested every kernel of insight there is to savor.
Interestingly, that’s exactly how this parable starts. It starts with a man --a lawyer-- who believes he already knows everything he needs to know. The Bible calls this guy a lawyer, but that doesn’t mean he’s Board Certified in Intellectual Property. By calling him a lawyer, the Bible is telling you he’s a student of religious law; an expert in the Torah.
This lawyer comes to Jesus with a question. But here’s the catch: it’s a question he surely already knows the answer to. The question is
“What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Jesus turns back to him, and says something like “Well, you’re the lawyer, you tell me.”
Immediately, the very proud and booksmart lawyer rolls out the exact chapter and verse. The complete codicil:
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”
This, of course, is the Great Shema. The great law. The greatest commandment. And if the story of the Good Samaritan has become one of our culture’s best-loved moral teachings, the Great Commandment surely is even more important still. It stands as not only the greatest commandment in the Jewish tradition, but also the Christian tradition too:
Love God.
Love your neighbor.
Love yourself.
As Jesus points out in another place, every other law, every other precept, every other moral teaching of the Bible, flows out of this first great commandment. Get this one right, and you get everything right. Get this one wrong, and it really doesn’t matter how many other rules you keep sacred.
See, the lawyer’s question was a softball pitch, and he slams his own question out of the park. (actually, have you seen those college women pitch lately? Whew! They bring the heat..)
As an aside, there is no greater satisfaction than knowing you’ve gotten this kind of question right, yes? And yet, the terrible and wonderful thing --especially about law-- is that just because you know the law, just because you are right about the law, doesn’t always mean you are...well.. “right.”
Dennise and I were talking about this recently, about how in the modern field of jurisprudence, often biggest courtroom conflagrations come from two sides of a conflict who are absolutely convinced they are right.
In fact, she reminded me of an expression lawyers tell each other. She reminded me that the expression I’m about to cite is not a blessing, but instead considered a curse. (It was actually first an old Yiddish curse. I looked it up.) It goes like this:
“May you be in a lawsuit in which you are in the right.”
There is often no more difficult position.
So this lawyer --who knows he’s right--- tries to surprise Jesus with another question. He asks Jesus, “So, who is my neighbor?”
Interestingly, Jesus does not allow the lawyer another chance at an answer. You might imagine he would. After all, the lawyer is “one for one.” If he knew the great commandment, surely he knows where to turn in the code for the law on neighbors. He could look it up in the index. (“Neighbor; Who is my? Par. 142, Section 6).
But Jesus doesn’t give him the chance. Instead, to answer this question Jesus tells a story. It’s about a man who is traveling alone, down a road everybody knows was a dangerous road. Everybody hearing Jesus’ story that day would know this is a road that was always full of bandits.
Sure enough, Jesus says, bandits descend on the guy and they take all his money, and they leave him for dead. (And so, in the minds of many, maybe he even deserves the misfortune that befalls him...)
Soon after, a priest comes by. But he’s apparently on the way to something really important. So he passes by on the other side. Then, a Levite, another deeply religious person, passes by too.
(Notice, please, the clear critique that this parable offers of the "professionally religious." You know, ministers, rabbis, imams, priests. The parable is not too kind to these folks, more than insinuating that they are too busy with their lofty and heavenly pursuits to be bothered by real human suffering. I wish I could say things have changed since Jesus' day....)
At last, a Samaritan stops. He helps the guy. He helps the guy, and the guy ends up OK.
End of story, right? The “moral,” we assume, is that we should stop to help somebody by the side of the road, right? This surely is one of the broad cultural meanings we take from this story. We even have so-called “Good Samaritan laws” designed to encourage such behavior. In the broad culture, we seem to believe this story is about stopping to render aid.
But, in fact, there is a whole additional layer of meaning. That layer gets added when Jesus tells us exactly who this good-deed-doer is. Jesus says the man who stops to render aid is a Samaritan.
Now at this, everyone hearing Jesus tell the story that day would have collectively gasped. Because, you see, the word “Samaritan” was about the last word they would have expected Jesus to say.
The Samaritans and the Jews were sort of cultural and historical half cousins. And there are often no greater enemies than this. To the many Jews, Samaritans were half-breeds. They were remnants of the folks who did not get taken into slavery by Assyria, way back in the 8th Century. The descendants of the folks who were enslaved eventually return to Israel, and come to believe that they to be the true Jewish people. The folks who got left behind become Samaritans. Some of them intermarry with other races. They worship at a different shrines. And they certainly hadn’t suffered like the Jews in exile had been forced to suffer.
So, when the Jews return, generations later, they find Samaritans still living in the Holy Land. And as the centuries pass, these groups grow to despise each other.
In fact, did you how catch at the end of the story the lawyer cannot even bring himself to mention the Samaritan’s identity?! Jesus has clearly identified three characters. They have helpful modifiers to distinguish them: Priest, Levite, Samaritan.
But when Jesus asks the guy at the end of the story: “Who is the neighbor?” the lawyer weakly croaks, “the one who showed mercy.”
He can’t bring himself to give the Samaritan the dignity of being the “good” in this story!!
What Jesus seems to be saying is that who your neighbor is apparently depends upon who you are. You and your neighbor are not just any old two people. You and your neighbor are apparently two people who do not get along. Being a neighbor apparently means being a friend to your enemy, and allowing your enemy to assist you in your time of need.
The power of the story comes from realizing that Jesus says your enemy is also your neighbor too.
Imagine the various ways Jesus might tell this story today...
A Hasidic Jew was laying by the side of the road, and a Palestinian stops to help...
A son of the Confederacy was laying by the side of the road, and a Hip-Hop Rapper stops to help...
An American was laying by the side of the road, and a member of Al Quaida stops to help...
A fan of the 700 Club was laying by the side of the road, and a gay man stops to help...
A border-patrolling Minute Man was laying by the side of the road, and an undocumented immigrant stops to help...
After I preached this sermon, I got word that one of our church kids, Ethan, had added his own example to this list:
“A McDonald’s worker is laying by the side of the road, and a cow stops by to help...”
By jove, I think he’s got it!
You might be tempted to say, “OK, Eric, but these examples are so terribly extreme. Those folks would never get along!!!”
Precisely!
And they are no more extreme than “Jew” and “Samaritan.” And that seems the point.
You see, the reality of this part of the Great Commandment --to love the neighbor-- is much more challenging than simply reciting a legal code. Who your neighbor is depends upon who you are. And loving your neighbor ultimately means not just loving the “generically hurt and wounded people” of the world. In fact, you might argue it has very little to do with stopping to help that old lady with her flat tire. Your neighbor may be the person who doesn't take care of him/herself, and ends up in the ditch by the side of the road. Yes, even those who deserve what they get, apparently their your neighbor too.
It means loving the people in the world you hate, and who hate you. Loving our neighbor means finding a sense of compassion and mercy, even for those who we feel deserve no compassion and mercy.
That’s not a rote law we can recite on cue.
But it is a powerful way of being that challenges even the best of us every day we live.
"Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?"
The expert in the law replied, "The one who had mercy on him."
Jesus told him, "Go and do likewise."
What new is there to say about the parable of the Good Samaritan? It is, arguably, one of the foundational moral stories of our society. It has meaning, it holds a place of honor, even in non-religious circles.
So what new is there to say?
One of the truths I am continually relearning is: truths I know like the back of my hand are often precisely the truths I need to re-hear again. We tend to take for granted that which is familiar. We tend to overlook the power of the familiar tale because we are so certain we know it already, have heard it before, and have digested every kernel of insight there is to savor.
Interestingly, that’s exactly how this parable starts. It starts with a man --a lawyer-- who believes he already knows everything he needs to know. The Bible calls this guy a lawyer, but that doesn’t mean he’s Board Certified in Intellectual Property. By calling him a lawyer, the Bible is telling you he’s a student of religious law; an expert in the Torah.
This lawyer comes to Jesus with a question. But here’s the catch: it’s a question he surely already knows the answer to. The question is
“What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Jesus turns back to him, and says something like “Well, you’re the lawyer, you tell me.”
Immediately, the very proud and booksmart lawyer rolls out the exact chapter and verse. The complete codicil:
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”
This, of course, is the Great Shema. The great law. The greatest commandment. And if the story of the Good Samaritan has become one of our culture’s best-loved moral teachings, the Great Commandment surely is even more important still. It stands as not only the greatest commandment in the Jewish tradition, but also the Christian tradition too:
Love God.
Love your neighbor.
Love yourself.
As Jesus points out in another place, every other law, every other precept, every other moral teaching of the Bible, flows out of this first great commandment. Get this one right, and you get everything right. Get this one wrong, and it really doesn’t matter how many other rules you keep sacred.
See, the lawyer’s question was a softball pitch, and he slams his own question out of the park. (actually, have you seen those college women pitch lately? Whew! They bring the heat..)
As an aside, there is no greater satisfaction than knowing you’ve gotten this kind of question right, yes? And yet, the terrible and wonderful thing --especially about law-- is that just because you know the law, just because you are right about the law, doesn’t always mean you are...well.. “right.”
Dennise and I were talking about this recently, about how in the modern field of jurisprudence, often biggest courtroom conflagrations come from two sides of a conflict who are absolutely convinced they are right.
In fact, she reminded me of an expression lawyers tell each other. She reminded me that the expression I’m about to cite is not a blessing, but instead considered a curse. (It was actually first an old Yiddish curse. I looked it up.) It goes like this:
“May you be in a lawsuit in which you are in the right.”
There is often no more difficult position.
So this lawyer --who knows he’s right--- tries to surprise Jesus with another question. He asks Jesus, “So, who is my neighbor?”
Interestingly, Jesus does not allow the lawyer another chance at an answer. You might imagine he would. After all, the lawyer is “one for one.” If he knew the great commandment, surely he knows where to turn in the code for the law on neighbors. He could look it up in the index. (“Neighbor; Who is my? Par. 142, Section 6).
But Jesus doesn’t give him the chance. Instead, to answer this question Jesus tells a story. It’s about a man who is traveling alone, down a road everybody knows was a dangerous road. Everybody hearing Jesus’ story that day would know this is a road that was always full of bandits.
Sure enough, Jesus says, bandits descend on the guy and they take all his money, and they leave him for dead. (And so, in the minds of many, maybe he even deserves the misfortune that befalls him...)
Soon after, a priest comes by. But he’s apparently on the way to something really important. So he passes by on the other side. Then, a Levite, another deeply religious person, passes by too.
(Notice, please, the clear critique that this parable offers of the "professionally religious." You know, ministers, rabbis, imams, priests. The parable is not too kind to these folks, more than insinuating that they are too busy with their lofty and heavenly pursuits to be bothered by real human suffering. I wish I could say things have changed since Jesus' day....)
At last, a Samaritan stops. He helps the guy. He helps the guy, and the guy ends up OK.
End of story, right? The “moral,” we assume, is that we should stop to help somebody by the side of the road, right? This surely is one of the broad cultural meanings we take from this story. We even have so-called “Good Samaritan laws” designed to encourage such behavior. In the broad culture, we seem to believe this story is about stopping to render aid.
But, in fact, there is a whole additional layer of meaning. That layer gets added when Jesus tells us exactly who this good-deed-doer is. Jesus says the man who stops to render aid is a Samaritan.
Now at this, everyone hearing Jesus tell the story that day would have collectively gasped. Because, you see, the word “Samaritan” was about the last word they would have expected Jesus to say.
The Samaritans and the Jews were sort of cultural and historical half cousins. And there are often no greater enemies than this. To the many Jews, Samaritans were half-breeds. They were remnants of the folks who did not get taken into slavery by Assyria, way back in the 8th Century. The descendants of the folks who were enslaved eventually return to Israel, and come to believe that they to be the true Jewish people. The folks who got left behind become Samaritans. Some of them intermarry with other races. They worship at a different shrines. And they certainly hadn’t suffered like the Jews in exile had been forced to suffer.
So, when the Jews return, generations later, they find Samaritans still living in the Holy Land. And as the centuries pass, these groups grow to despise each other.
In fact, did you how catch at the end of the story the lawyer cannot even bring himself to mention the Samaritan’s identity?! Jesus has clearly identified three characters. They have helpful modifiers to distinguish them: Priest, Levite, Samaritan.
But when Jesus asks the guy at the end of the story: “Who is the neighbor?” the lawyer weakly croaks, “the one who showed mercy.”
He can’t bring himself to give the Samaritan the dignity of being the “good” in this story!!
What Jesus seems to be saying is that who your neighbor is apparently depends upon who you are. You and your neighbor are not just any old two people. You and your neighbor are apparently two people who do not get along. Being a neighbor apparently means being a friend to your enemy, and allowing your enemy to assist you in your time of need.
The power of the story comes from realizing that Jesus says your enemy is also your neighbor too.
Imagine the various ways Jesus might tell this story today...
A Hasidic Jew was laying by the side of the road, and a Palestinian stops to help...
A son of the Confederacy was laying by the side of the road, and a Hip-Hop Rapper stops to help...
An American was laying by the side of the road, and a member of Al Quaida stops to help...
A fan of the 700 Club was laying by the side of the road, and a gay man stops to help...
A border-patrolling Minute Man was laying by the side of the road, and an undocumented immigrant stops to help...
After I preached this sermon, I got word that one of our church kids, Ethan, had added his own example to this list:
“A McDonald’s worker is laying by the side of the road, and a cow stops by to help...”
By jove, I think he’s got it!
You might be tempted to say, “OK, Eric, but these examples are so terribly extreme. Those folks would never get along!!!”
Precisely!
And they are no more extreme than “Jew” and “Samaritan.” And that seems the point.
You see, the reality of this part of the Great Commandment --to love the neighbor-- is much more challenging than simply reciting a legal code. Who your neighbor is depends upon who you are. And loving your neighbor ultimately means not just loving the “generically hurt and wounded people” of the world. In fact, you might argue it has very little to do with stopping to help that old lady with her flat tire. Your neighbor may be the person who doesn't take care of him/herself, and ends up in the ditch by the side of the road. Yes, even those who deserve what they get, apparently their your neighbor too.
It means loving the people in the world you hate, and who hate you. Loving our neighbor means finding a sense of compassion and mercy, even for those who we feel deserve no compassion and mercy.
That’s not a rote law we can recite on cue.
But it is a powerful way of being that challenges even the best of us every day we live.
Art and Soul of North Texas
Jan/12/2007 08:22 AM | Permalink
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For those of us interested in the connection between art and spirituality (and, actually, I hope that is most of us...) there's a new local podcast out there that you need to check out.
It's called "Art and Soul of North Texas," and it's created by my friend Shelly Niebuhr. Shelly is a wonderful artist herself --a musician and painter-- and you may know her as half of the duo "ClarySage."
The website says that "Art and Soul of North Texas" is: "Inspiring conversations with ordinary people creating extraordinary art."
Each podcast is an extended interview with a local musician/artist about their art, and about the way that spirit and art collide. Here's some of what Sherry says about the podcast on her site:
"I feel it is critical to the growth of a community for local artists to have a forum from which to speak and share their art. I know of no such venue in our area so hence the creation of this Podcast...I believe that ultimately everyone is an artist, but not everyone is in touch with that aspect of themselves."
Here's a story about the podcast that ran in a recent issue of the Plano Star Courier.
What I love about the show is that each podcast is a one-on-one conversation with the artist, and you feel like it's just Shelly and the artist having a private talk, but that you have been allowed to "sit in" and learn.
Guests so far have included two of my local musician friends: Marsha Webb and Cornell Kinderknecht. You will recall that Cornell has been a part of "Connections."
As regular readers of this blog know, these issues --the connection between spirituality and art-- are issues I wrestle with in my life, and that I've blogged about myself. (Most explicitly here). I find the podcast nourishing to me, and I am betting you will find it nourishes the artist in you too.
So, check out "Art and Soul of North Texas." I've subscribed to it via my iPod, so that I'll get the regular updates as they become available. I hope you will too.
Humiliation Theory and Terrorism
Jan/04/2007 07:21 AM | Permalink
The essay is a helpful addition to our understanding of what makes a terrorist "tick." The authors (Peter Bergen and Michael Lind) first take issue with the "conventional wisdom" that "poverty leads to terrorism and violence."
This view --that poverty leads to terrorism and violence-- is widely embraced by analyst on the left and right. But what these two scholars claim is that when you examine the backgrounds of some of the most lethal terrorists ever known to humankind, many of them were not poor or economically marginalized, but often hailed from middle-class, and even upper-class, backgrounds.
The writers cite Mark Sargent, a former CIA case officer and now a forensic psychologist, whose analysis of 172 Al Quaida operatives found something startling:
"he concluded that this was not a group of feckless, unemployed no-hopers. In his sample of jihadist terrorists, two-thirds had gone to college; they were generally professionals; their average age was 26; three-fourths were married; and many had children."
Bergen, working with an LA Times reporter, uncovered a similar dynamic among terrorists from some of the most infamous terrorist acts of the recent past:
The 1993 World Trade Center bombing
The US Embassy bombings in Africa
The September 11th attacks
The Bali bombings, and
The London terror attacks
They found that 54 percent of the terrorists involved in the above plots had attended college (Compare to: 52 percent of Americans). One quarter of them had studied in the US or Europe. They found this dynamic held true for other parts of the Middle East. Other studies have shown that 57 percent of Palestinian suicide bombers have some post-high school education (Compared to a paltry 15 percent in the general Palestinian population). Fully one-third of Palestinian people live in poverty. However, only 13 percent of suicide bombers come from poor families.
"In fact, Palestinian pollster Kahalil Shikaki found that the readiness to commit suicide attacks actually rises with one’s education level."
Then, the researchers broadened their scope and looked at revolutionary groups throughout the 20th Century:
"In West Germany, the majority of members of the Red Army Faction (the Baader-Meinhof gang) were middle class, like most of the members of Italy’s Red Brigades and the Weathermen in the United States. Notorious terrorist Carlos the Jackal is the son of a wealthy Venezuelan lawyer. Militants in Latin American movements like Sendero Luminoso (the Shining Path) and the Tupamaros and Monteneros likewise tend to be educated and from the upper strata of society. The "black bloc" anarchists who fly around the world to commit acts of vandalism in cities that host IMF and World Bank meetings are obviously affluent (just consider the cost of airfare alone). And Lenin, Mao, Pol Pot, and Fidel Castro all hailed from relatively affluent families. Even Adolf Hitler was the son of a prosperous Austrian civil servant. He had enough money from his mother and aunt to live a bohemian existence in the expensive metropolis of Vienna in his youth."
So, if economics is not the primary motivator that drives terrorism, then what is?
They suggest a compelling new idea: Humiliation.
They claim that what really leads someone to join a terrorist group is a feeling of ethnic, religious, or national humiliation. And they point back to Nazi Germany as "Exhibit A." They argue that much of what motivated the Nazis was a perceived humiliation of their people and homeland:
"While economically weak in between the world wars, what really motivated many to embrace Nazism was that they lost World War I, and the conditions of that loss. Hitler’s goal, supported by much of the German elite and the vast Prussian officer class, was to reverse the verdict of World War I and proceed to create a Eurasian empire capable of dominating the world."
So, the authors posit "Humiliation Theory." They say the theory explains a great deal of what seems inexplicable to us from the oustide:
"The "humiliation theory" of radical violence helps explain why so many terrorists come from middle-class or wealthy backgrounds. Unlike economic deprivation, national or religious humiliation can be painful to all members of a community. In fact, communal humiliation is likely to aggrieve the affluent members the most, precisely because their freedom from a day-to-day struggle to survive liberates them to brood over slights to the community in which they are natural leaders."
This analysis helps me put words to feelings I have had about our current "War on Terror" for several years now.
Unfortunately, the essay is short on actual prescriptions of how to reduce a sense of humiliation among terrorist groups. They claim that one thing that would help is ending the occupation of places like Iraq, the Palestinian West Bank, and Chechnya. And they claim we should hear the concern about US military bases in Saudi Arabia, and consider the sense that feeling that such an "occupation" is a humiliating desecration of a sacred space.
They also claim that Middle Eastern governments, like Saudi Arabia, must chip in by modernizing and reducing the perceived humiliation suffered by some of its own citizens, within its own borders, and at the hands of its own government.
But, the essay doesn't say how to do any of this. (In reading more about this journal, it's clear that they see this as their mission: put out new and cutting edge theoretical ideas, but not totally hatched plans for how to implement them...)
I don't have any great ideas either. But as a minister and theologian, it seems that this idea of "Humiliation Theory" touches a deep and important truth. And, it seems to me, the issues are as much moral and spiritual as they are political and military. Perhaps that's why we've so grossly misunderstood the dynamics of this war and modern terrorism itself.
Humility and Pride are healthy opposites. Humiliation and Pride are unhealthy ones. All three are predictable human behaviors. There is a healthy and appropriate kind of Pride. There is a healthy and appropriate kind of Humility.
And there is clearly a link between people's ability to have both Pride and Humility, and their ability to develop stable, peaceful societies. Those who create a stable, democratic society have understandable Pride at having done so, but also often exhibit great Humility at knowing that they have not done it alone, and that democracy only flourishes when everyone works together for a common good.
Humiliation is different. It's a "first cousin, once removed" of Humility. It's impossible to see straight when you feel humiliated. When pride devolves into humiliation, it's hard to predict the outcomes. Predictable behavior goes out the window. The first reaction is usually one of resignation and depression.
But no one can live in resignation and depression forever. And soon, other responses emerge: Anger, bitterness, lashing out....these are the things that eventually come from Humiliation.
This anger, bitterness, and lashing out may not make logical sense to the outsider. It may not even make total sense to the humiliated person either. But, as the authors of this essay suggest, Humiliation Theory "...may also explain why so many are willing to sacrifice innocent bystanders for their cause. They are fighting for an abstract idea of national, ethnic, or religious pride, not the masses."
I think they are completely correct here. You see, one of the things that has been baffling to all of us here in the West is the WHY behind what terrorists do:
-- Why would they fly planes into buildings?
-- Why would they blow themselves up in the West Bank?
-- Does their religion drive them to this?
-- Their culture?
-- A struggle of the poor vs. the rich?
Humiliation theory seems to suggest that it could be all of these things, but that humiliation cuts across them all and drives them to a deeper level. And, it's an especially good theory for explaining why religion has been used by terrorists: the humiliation terrorists feel toward the "infidels" is not just cultural, but they are truly convinced that the humiliation they feel is also a humiliation of their God too. They are mistaken in this, of course. But it doesn't matter how clearly we can show the mistakes of their logic so long as they feel the humiliation deeply enough and have access to IEDs.
So, Humiliation theory helps me understand some of the "why" behind the terrorist's misuse of their own great religious tradition.
But Humiliation theory also helps me understand why, so many times during the prosecution of this war, I instinctively cringe, and immediately know that we (the US/the West) have just done something else that will only exacerbate our problems in the region.
Humiliation Theory helps explain the "end" that was predicted by so many of us from the moment the war began:
That Iraq itself would become the largest breeding ground for the next generation of terrorist.
It helps explain the vitriolic reactions of the Muslim world to the stories of detainee abuse at Guantanamo. And, it helps us to understand why "Abu Gharib" was, and is, still such a big deal.
And Humiliation Theory helps explain the fallout, building even now, from the cell phone video of Saddam Hussein's execution. Sadly, Saddam's execution itself has become yet another example of "how not to fight a war."
The day of the execution, I told friends I was certain another "unofficial" video of the execution would soon be found. I'm not psychic or anything. I just understand enough of how prevalent camera phones are in our internet world know it almost had to happen. (And, if I may digress: this dovetails nicely with Time Magazine's thoughts about the "new" World Wide Web...)
Sure enough, within about five hours of telling my friends this, a disgusting and grainy video was burning up the World Wide Web. In it, executioners are heard to taunt Hussein with cries to "To hell!" and bystanders chant the name of Moqtada Sadr, a leading Shiite cleric. (Hussien is a Sunni...)
Again, in the world of the new internet and world wide web, we should not be surprised that a video has emerged.
However, we should be concerned that the content of video will simply cause further humiliation among the Sunni population of Iraq.
And, I fear, it most certainly will. And as it does, Humiliation Theory will again help to explain much of the reaction.
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Humiliation Theory is a fascinating new lens through which we can not only view the Iraq War, but also the roots and causes of all modern global terrorism.
And if we're really going to fight terrorism, and if we truly hope to defeat it, we've surely got to examine the role humiliation has in pouring more gas on the fire instead of putting it out.
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The Tumped Over Tree: A Christmas Meditation
Dec/06/2006 08:59 PM | Permalink
Last Sunday night, our family pulled out the boxes
from the attic and put up our Christmas tree. I
cherish this ritual more each year that passes.
Perhaps like ours, your Christmas tree tells a
kind of family history. On our tree, there are small,
red apple ornaments I bought the first year I was out
of grad school, when Dennise and I had just started
dating. That year, we put them on a 4-foot tree that
stood in a small corner of a small apartment off of
Northwest Highway and Skillman. There is an ornament
with Maria's name and the date of her birth that we
got that same year. There's an ornament shaped like a
minister, and another one shaped like a lawyer.
There's one is fashioned to look like a guitar; another like a violin. There are ornaments I made with crayons and construction paper when I was in kindergarten, decades ago; and some Maria made the same fashion during her kindergarten Christmas, just three years ago.
There's a whole series of decorated goose and
ostrich eggs in the "Faberge" style. For each of my
eleven years at HPUMC, my assistant was a woman named
Demeris Wheeler. Years ago, Demeris started making
these decorative eggs. She got so good at it that,
for a time, Neiman Marcus contracted with her to make
crates-full of them to sell in their stores. Some of
her creations are covered with red silk, and open up
to reveal a manger scene, an angel, or children
singing.
Others have a small music box attached to the base. They are stunningly beautiful. We bought one or two from her each of those eleven years. And she'd always throw in one or two more as a gift.
There are all sorts of ornaments from trips around the world: Wooden ornaments from Russia...musicians playing balalikas, babuskas carrying trays of food, and even an Orthodox Bishop. There are small Bolivian peasants that my sister sent back from her time there. There angels painted in Guatemalan folk style that I bought in market at Chichicastenango a few year's back.
There's one is fashioned to look like a guitar; another like a violin. There are ornaments I made with crayons and construction paper when I was in kindergarten, decades ago; and some Maria made the same fashion during her kindergarten Christmas, just three years ago.
Others have a small music box attached to the base. They are stunningly beautiful. We bought one or two from her each of those eleven years. And she'd always throw in one or two more as a gift.
There are all sorts of ornaments from trips around the world: Wooden ornaments from Russia...musicians playing balalikas, babuskas carrying trays of food, and even an Orthodox Bishop. There are small Bolivian peasants that my sister sent back from her time there. There angels painted in Guatemalan folk style that I bought in market at Chichicastenango a few year's back.
There are half a dozen ornaments from my mother's
Christmas trees when she was a girl. It amazes Maria
to know that that we have something on our tree "that
old."
Well, whatever your holiday tradition, I hope you're
getting ready as well.
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As we put up the tree Sunday, I was reminded of
something that happened to us almost ten-years-ago
now. I think it was the last year we actually had a
live tree, and we'd brought it home from