Into my heart, as nto the world

I am sitting here at one minute before midnight while Dennis finishes wrapping the last present we will take to my hometown tomorrow. There is much to do before we leave and we are both tired.
It has been a busy day. We met with our orthopedic surgeon today to check on the progress of our bones, and though they are healing well, the prognosis for the next few months involves more therapy, a possible surgery, many more bills and most of all, uncertainty. I found myself responding in frustration, worry and anxiety.

When we returned home this evening, I worked hard on the Christmas eve candlelight service. I put the service together using many of the words of John Bell and the Wild Goose Worship Group that I found in Cloth for the Cradle. In the midst of the preparation, I grumbled and glowered, feeling weary and inept. I was creating a cloud of darkness to hover over me. And how sorry I felt for myself!

But then I found myself reading again and again the words, "the world was not ready..."

"For He came to his own and his own did not know him."

Born in a cattle stall among dirt and grime and animal droppings. We made no room for him. No, we were not ready to receive him.

And yet, still, He came.

Oh, how I wish that I was one who prepared my heart as well as I have prepared my house to celebrate Christ's birth. But the fact is that I haven't. There's fear and worry and darkness and doubt dwelling there. My heart is not ready to receive him. There is no room at this inn.

And yet, still, He will come. He will come into what little space there is for him amidst cobwebs and dirt, smell and stench... he will come. He will come into my heart as He came into the world. Perhaps unnoticed. Perhaps unwanted. Perhaps uninvited. But He will come.

And I pray that what He finds here will be enough -- that just as the dank darkness of the stable could not hide the Glory within, the veil on my heart will not shadow the Light that has come to dwell among us and within me. For though I am not ready to receive him, I need Him deeply.

Even so, Lord Jesus, quickly come.

Mary pondering

Mary, pondering

What is this seed which God has planted
unasked, uncompromised, unseen?
Unknown to everyone but angels
this gift has been.

And who am I to be the mother,
to give my womb at heaven's behest,
to let my body be the hospice
and God the guest?

Oh, what a risk in such a nation,
in such a place, at such a time,
to come to people in transition
and yet in prime.

What if the baby I embody
should enter life deformed or strange,
unable to be known as normal,
to thrive or change?

What if the world, for spite, ignores him,
and friends keep back and parents scorn,
and every fear of every woman
in me is born?

Still, I will want and love and hold him,
his cry attend, his smile applaud.
I'm mother him as any mortal,
and just like God.

-from Cloth for the Cradle by the Iona Community Wild Goose Worship Group

Advent prayer: Open our eyes, Lord

Open our eyes, Lord,
especially if they are half shut
because we are tired of looking,
or half open
because we fear we see to much,
or bleared with tears
because yesterday and today and tomorrow
are filled with the same pain,
or contracted,
because we only look at what we want to see.

Open our eyes, Lord,
to gently scan the life we lead,
the home we have,
the world we inhabit,
and so to find,
among the gremlins and the greyness,
signs of hope we can fasten on and encourage.

Give us, whose eyes are dimmed by familiarity,
a bigger vision of what you can do
even with hopeless cases and lost causes
and people of limited ability.



Show us the world as in your sight,
riddled by debt, deceit and disbelief
yet also
shot through with possibility
for recover, renewal, redemption.



And lest we fail to distinguish vision from fantasy,
today, tomorrow, this week,
open our eyest to one person or one place,
where we - being even for a moment prophetic -
might identify and wean a potential in the waiting.


And with all this,
open our eyes, in yearning, for Jesus.


On the mountains,
in the cities,
through the corridors of power
and streets of despair.
to help, to heal,
to confront, to convert,
O come, O come, Immanuel.

- from Cloth for the Cradle by the Iona Community Wild Goose Worship Group
(emphasis mine)

A pastor's prayer

O gracious Spirit, I come before Thee.
Renew my heart, I pray.
When I seek Thee, do not stand far from me.
Come and fill me this day.

Let the words of my mouth and meditations of my heart
Be acceptable in Thy sight
Empty me of my incompetence
Fill me with Thy glory and might.

Let those who see me not see me,
but instead see the Son.
For it is in Thy name and by Thy power
that I pray these things will be done. Amen.

Does God want you to be rich?

I've been slowly reading my way through our latest issue of Time. This is the cover story: Does God Want You to Be Rich? You can read an abstract from CNN here. (Shame on Time for not making the entire article available.)
It's interesting that Prosperity thinking is on the rise at the same time that the Crunchy Con and Emergent movements seem to be addressing the same target group with completely differently oriented messages.
I plan to add more thoughts when I actually have any mental clarity, but in the meantime I'd be interested to hear from anyone else who has read the article or has knowledge/ understanding of/ or experience with the movements mentioned above.

Some relatively unformed thoughts on "literal meaning"

Thanks to another provocative discussion at the CH forums, I have realized that I have a difficulty getting over the word, "literal" when someone says, "I believe the Bible is literal" or "I take the Bible literally."
I know what they mean. They mean -- the Bible is true, inspired, infallible. But the word "literal" is so very difficult here.
The things is, language is, by its very nature, representative, which means that it will ALWAYS need to be interpreted. And though some might argue that, well, yes, of course, language is interpreted, but we all KNOW what words really mean, I would point out that all of us, at some time or another, have misinterpreted the language that is very clearly set before us. How many of us have read an email from a dear friend and missed the humor or sarcasm therein? Or how many of us have read a post by someone we don't know and have inferred something about their character or compassion by their writings?
When it comes to the Bible, I do believe the Bible is inspired by God. And I could even say that I believe that what God inspired is infallible -- without error. I believe it to be unquestioningly true. However, the Bible has been interpreted by fallible humans for over 2500 years. Even if we believe the Holy Spirit gives us the power to interpret, we are still human. We are still imperfect beings trying to glean from language, some of which has been copied and re-copied and translated and re-translated for over 20 centuries, a representation of God, who is beyond all human representation and comprehension.
And this -- this reminder that we can only grasp small glimpses of God in metaphors and representations -- this is what most of all, bothers me about the word, "literal." God simply IS NOT literal. God is beyond literal. God is beyond what humans can possibly conceive of as fact, meaning, truth, exactness, etc.
All of this is absolutely, unequivocally, not to say that the Bible is meaningless. It is FULL of meaning. I would just posit that the meaning is far greater than we will ever, ever, ever understand. God is revealed and is being revealed in our reading of the text, but we will never, ever get to grasp God's fullness until we are Home.
To say that the Bible can be understood "literally" seems to me to imply that we grasping it IS attainable. That if we just study and pray and dig enough, someday, we'll "get it."
What I personally find is that the more I study the Bible, the more I learn about the language, the bigger God seems. The bigger the process appears. The bigger the picture represented by the words. I begin to understand why Paul said, "now we see only in part, then we will see the whole."
So as I've been turning over these thoughts in my head and pondering the nature of this most instructive and revealing of books I think I've realized that, the more I read the Bible, the less and less "literal" it seems to me.
But, of course, that could just be this weirdo...

Godsecrets

If you want to see some interesting/ challenging/ moving God stuff, check out this blog. There are some good things in there!

Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree

Today on our way back from Peoria, with a very punky daughter in tow, I stopped at Tanners' Apple Orchard. We were not there to get apples or even peaches. We just needed a place to stop and I remembered that they have goats and Annalivia would be excited by that.
Turns out that the apple orchard has apples! Go figure. They apparently ship them in from someplace that is already harvesting apples. (Where would that be?) One of the other great things about Tanners', aside from the goats, is that they have samples of their wares out for general consumption, so Annalivia and I ate some very crisp, very tart apples slices.
In the process of seeing goats and wandering around the orchard, we happened to get a really good look at an apple tree coming into fruition. I don't actually think I've been near a gorgeous orchard apple for a long time -- since I was a kid, probably. I looked up into these branches, absolutely laden with beautiful fruit, fecund with its offering that is on the precipice of ripeness and I thought about this lovely early American hymn...

Jesus Christ the Apple Tree
The tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit and always green:
The trees of nature fruitless be
Compared with Christ the apple tree.

His beauty doth all things excel:
By faith I know, but ne'er can tell
The glory which I now can see
In Jesus Christ the apple tree.

For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasure dearly I have bought:
I missed of all; but now I see
'Tis found in Christ the apple tree.

I'm weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest awhile:
Under the shadow I will be,
Of Jesus Christ the apple tree.

This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive;
Which makes my soul in haste to be
With Jesus Christ the apple tree.

Edit to add: Listen to a setting by Elizabeth Poston here. This is performed by Nova Singers, an amazing group of professional singers in Galesburg, IL with whom I was priveleged to sing for two seasons!

Phew

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Too large a helping of Grace?

I know it's possible to have too much of a good thing. In fact, I think I could be a case study for said principle. But I've been wondering lately about the theology of Grace thanks to marvelous Molly's Grace vs. Law discussion over at her blog. Then brilliant Dawn began dissecting an article about homeschooling, part of which deals with legalism. And I've been reading some other articles and blogs, mostly written by evangelicals/ conservatives which deal with the prevalence of legalism in the evangelical mindset. Through all of these articles, I've realized that (warning: generalization to follow!) tending towards legalism is a problem the mainline church simply doesn't have. In fact, any wrestling with legalism that occurs in our churches is generally from marginalized voices from within who are calling for, well, laws to govern us and our behavior. We manage to squash this dissent, or at least talk louder, by pointing to the love of Jesus and the grace of God and the necessity for Spirit-led living.
But before we pat ourselves on the back and recline in smug self-satisfaction, I think we should examine the possibility that perhaps we have erred on the side of grace. Perhaps too much grace is also not a great thing.
Now I can already hear the roar of my liturgical-dance clad sisters and perhaps, brothers, as they wave their dowel-mounted ribbons and shake their heads in wounded indignation. Too much grace? How could such a thing be possible?
Well, I think however it is possible, we've managed to do it.
Here's how I came to this realization -- Dawn in her blog post mentioned the parable of The Prodigal Son and her past tendency to teach it from the perspective of it being about the wages of sin.
I ashamedly admit that I was shocked! I have never heard that parable taught or preached from that perspective. Literally every time I have heard it, read it, preached it, it has been from the perspective of the father who offers an unconditional and in fact, abundant, pardon. And though, I believe, that is the point of the parable, having skipped over the wages-o-sin aspect of it, I think I have had a much less full understanding of that parable.
Now you may think that I'm the only moron who has ever single-sidedly read this passage of scripture, but I would say in imagined defense of myself that I have studied this parable a lot. I have read it, prayed it, written on it, preached it. I know the offense brought by the son against the father in a historical context. I know the father's right to refuse the son. I know the bones of this parable, but I have to admit, before the last few days, I did not understand the spirit. I had not ever considered the utter failure of this son. I hadn't ever considered the wanton and brazen disregard and disrespect offered by the offending son. I hadn't, in short, ever truly considered the sin.
And, I would guess, there are lots of folks like me in the mainline church. I could be wrong. I am a lot of the time, after all. But my guess is that there are many of us who prefer to skip over sin and get right to grace. We prefer to skip over our fallibility and get to the part about pardon from God. We prefer to skip over our mortality and get to the part about immortality promised by Christ.
But, in doing so, I think we're doing ourselves a big disservice.
Don't get me wrong -- I don't think we need to go full-fledged into wallowing in our sinfulness, especially because our shortcomings can and do become a source of pride. There are plenty of enormous Calvary Fill-in-the-Blank Churches in the world.
No, I don't think God creates us to remain in the pig pen even a short while. But I think we do ourselves a disservice if we don't recognize that that is where we ought to be. We're the ones who have chosen a path other than what God creates us to be. The pigpen is what we deserve.
And here's the crux of the matter -- without realizing and really contemplating what we deserve, we can't fully understand what a gift it is to be elsewhere, namely safe in the arms of our Father.
And that's what Grace is really all about, right? Being safely at Home even though we should still be wandering.

Those "other" Christians

Once again, I have been reading about one part of the Body of Christ attacking another part of the Body for not being Christian enough. When I read such things, my stomach ties itself into knots and I feel such anger and frustration. Why do we insist on tearing each other down in order to feel better or more superior about our points of view?
In the last month I have read two brilliant ruminations on how to handle issues of disagreement within the Body of Christ. I don't have permission to reprint them here, but I'm going to do so anyway and beg for forgiveness later.
This first one is from Molly Aley, a brilliant theologian who wrote in a forum discussion dealing with a hot topic...

Scripturally, we aren't told to "be God," sure, and yet, in a sense, we ARE told to "be God..." in that we are told to be His manifestation to the world.
We are told that WE are the body of Christ--that WE are His expression in the earth now. The Body is what moves, the part that involves ACTION, the part that makes manifest whatever it is that the Head wants, right? And we're different members/parts of that Body, or so says Ephesians...
So it makes sense that some of us are going to see things differently...we are different parts of the body, called to different things and yet ALL of us called to obey the Head, whatever it is He tells us to do. Not all the parts will look the same, in other words, even though all might be obeying the Head.
When I walk, my hands do an entirely different thing than my feet do...yet both are expressing the wishes of my head. I'm glad my feet don't grump about how my hands aren't doing the right thing, simply becuase the hands aren't acting like feet!
This means we might not all look the same, even though we all might be obeying the Head! Some of us will be the arms embracing the sinner no matter WHAT, while others of us might be called of God to point out sin (SO THAT we can lead the person into the freedom of obeying God, not just for the sake of pointing out sin).
I think the key is being very in tune with the Spirit.
Because sometimes we're going to personally FEEL like ramming a ton of (deserved) judgement down a person's throat for whatever reason, and yet the Spirit is going to tell us to shut our mouths and to just love on them. He knows what they need and when they need it, so obeying Him is best, even if it's hard to hold in the rant, and hard to just lovingly bless them in kindness at that moment! HE KNOWS, and He knows exactly how those actions are going to impact them for the good.
... And other times, speaking up for righteousness is going to be the LAST thing we want to do, but the Spirit is going to tell us to open our mouths and share His truth, painful as it may be, unpopular as it may make us, difficult as it might sound. But the Spirit knows when a firm word is needed, knows that it is just what should be said at that very moment, and knows how to frame it just right. He knows that it is the best thing for that person's heart, right then, period. In which case, obeying Him by speaking the hard word is the most loving thing we can do for that person.
In other words, this is an area I personally walk very careful in, when it comes to judging the actions of fellow Christians and when it comes to making blanket statements myself.

Such wisdom!
Another incredibly gentle theologian, Ann V. discussed the conundrum of not knowing exactly what to think about these difficult topics on her blog, Holy Experience. As usual, her words are so eloquent and illustrative of the emotion that accompanies this wrestling we engage in. I'm editing her post for space, but please consider jumping over to her blog to read "Importance of Theology... and Childlike Faith."

I am troubled. Deeply so.... Reformed, Emergent, Post-modern, Evangelical, Calvinism, Arminianism, Catholic, Protestant. Authors with stamps of approval, pastors that pass muster, churches deemed orthodox, conservative, Biblical,godly…or not. Interpretations, translations from the original, concordances. Stances, positions, posturing. Sifting, sifting, sifting. Everyone so sure.
And I am sure too.
Certain of the Cross and Your saving Grace. Unwavering about Your Sovereignty. Confident of Your sacrificial love that saved me, a sinner.
But the rest, Lord, the secondary issues? I confess it in a wavering whisper:
I don’t know...
I am sure of You… but theology? All the Details of Doctrine in which I so easily find myself entangled?...
I want a clear understanding of You. And, seeing as everyone apparently has, intentionally or by default, a theology, is mine simply bad and muddled? I pray it is not so.
I don’t know about…well, You know all the things I don’t know about. And You know how everyone else seems so entirely certain, with flocks of disciples nodding in agreement, buoyed by the loud voices of assurance and confidence.
But what of humble voices?
Unassuming voices that can only whisper, “I do not know for certain, but I do know One who does know. For certain.” Perhaps there are less ears and hearts attuned to tentative voices. Little matter. It's about meekly following the One who is all-knowing. "And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." ~Micah 6:8
...I am like a child tentative about so much… but so sure of You.

Oh, if more of us would simply take time to think about the "other" as beloved of God. Oh, if more of us were willing to admit that we don't know, that we aren't sure. Oh, if more of us were willing to extend the grace to be unsure to other pilgrims on the way. Oh, oh, oh...
Thank you, Molly and Ann, for such amazingly heartfelt, transparent and inspiring confessions of understanding. You have reassured this grieving heart.

The what and why of the Trinity

Some of you already know that my big stepping-out-in-faith venture for the summer is to preach a series of sermons based on questions asked by members of my congregation. I told folks they could ask pretty much anything, but I reserved the right to clarify, re-word, or divide questions as necessary.

Well, the first of these sermons was last week on the Trinity. It happened to be Trinity Sunday for the liturgical churches throughout the world, so the questions, "What is the Trinity? And why is it important for Christians?" were timely.

I have read that it is an old joke that on Trinity Sunday, the minister stands up and preaches a sermon that neither the minister nor the congregation understand. I have to admit, I felt a little like this was going to be the situation for us, also.

The thing is -- the Trinity is on one hand incredibly easy to explain and on the other hand, incredibly difficult to explain. It is both simple to understand and deeply complex and complicated.

At its base, the doctrine of the Trinity is pretty simple.

1. God exists as three eternal persons: Father, Son, Holy Spirit.
2. Each person is fully God
3. There is one God

Of course, trinity is not found in the Bible, though, as Christians, we believe it is clear that the three separate persons of God are mentioned even from the earliest scriptures in the Old Testament. The ruach (breath, wind) moves over the waters; the Creator brings all things into being; the Son of course, is identified in the baptism stories where the Holy Spirit is also present as well as the Father; Jesus sends his Spirit after his resurrection; the Spirit arrives at Pentecost as fire and wind...

We've used all sorts of things to explain the Trinity more fully i.e. The Trinity is like an egg in that an egg cannot be complete without a shell, white and yolk. Or the Trinity is like water which is still water even when frozen, liquid or gas. Or the Trinity is like me who is Dennis' wife, Annalivia's mother, and the pastor of First Christian Church, but is still April. Or, my favorite, the Trinity is like a perfect piece of cherry pie where the flaky crust envelopes distinguishable cherries held together in an ambiguous but delicious goo.

Even the littlest kid can get these things, but it's when one tries to explain deeper that words fail us.

That's when this great quote from Evragius, a monk who lived in Pontus in the 4th century, comes in very handy, "God cannot be grasped by the mind. If God could be grasped, God would not be God."

Which is, I think, the real reason that the Trinity is important to Christians; it tells us what we know about God, but more than that, it reminds us that God is beyond human understanding.

The Trinity reminds us that no matter how much we think we know about God, no matter how much we've read the Word, no matter how much we seek God in prayer, no matter how many sermons we hear, we can NEVER fully understand God.

That is SO crucial for us to understand because if we COULD draw a box around God, like our friend, Evagrius said, God would not be God.

For many people, the inability to understand God, to grasp God, leads them to reject the whole notion of God or it is terrifying to them. I understand the inclination to reject what we cannot understand, to turn from what is larger and greater than ourselves. I understand the inclination to limit God to our understanding because a really, truly BIG God means giving up a lot of our "power" which I don't really think we have in the first place.

As Christians, we must remind ourselves that we believe in a God WAY, WAY bigger than our human minds. We believe in a God that is WAY, WAY bigger than human life. We believe in a God who is greater and more expansive than anything any of us can even imagine. We, in fact, must believe beyond our belief.

We do this because we pray to the Father hoping with fervent hope that He hears and knows our inward parts and our needs and desires in ways that haven'occurreded to us yet. We do this because we surrender our lives to Jesus asking him to lead us in paths that we cannot and will not choose when left to our own devices. We do this because we trust the Spirit will gift us and empower us with courage and faith and love and joy and gentleness, etcThatat definitely do not live within us of our own invitation.

This MYSTERY is CRUCIAL to our faith, absolutely CRUCIAL and as Christians we must keep it and even INSIST on it, because there are always people who will try to tell us that God is containable and that God is attainable. From the very beginning of our scriptures, a serpent lays a trap for an unsuspecting woman with the promise that she will be like Yahweh and that has continued throughout our history.

Even our fellow Christians have been tempted to box God. We THINK we know God from His Word, but we cannot ever fully know. The apostle Paul reminds us in I Corinthians that we are ALWAYS seeing through a glass darkly. One day we shall see in full, but that day is not right now, so we must constantly, constantly seek and re-seek the guidance of the Spirit in how we live, teach and preach the Gospel, lest we think we have it figured out and become idolatrous in our self-satisfaction. Mystery is what keeps us seeking. Not knowing the mind of God is what keeps us turning towards Him.

So what is the Trinity? It is our way of expressing what we know about God.

But more importantly, Why is it important to Christians? Because it reminds us how little we understand about God and how very much we have to learn.

On being real

I was listening to the radio the other day and a speaker said, "God doesn't want you to be perfect. God wants you to be real."

That which is real could be the start of pretty much any ontological discussion. Real, according to dictionary.com is "Being or occurring in fact or actuality; having verifiable existence; True and actual; not imaginary, alleged, or ideal." True. Actual. Verifiable. Genuine. Authentic.

I realized as I thought about this, that I have a problem being a real Christian. Because for me at least, being an authentic Christian is very complex. And I find that I have a hard time representing the complexity within me to others.

Very often, rather than just letting myself be me, I instead take the cues of what- kind- of- Christian- I- should- be- today from the folks around me. For example, I am LOVING hanging out at the Choosing Home Forums and have been SO incredibly inspired by these women who, well, "choose home." But I am not *using terms with which I'm uncomfortable* a "conservative, evangelical" Christian. Not even close, really. And sometimes I feel like I'm representing myself as different than I actually am.

I love being with my church people and even leading them sometimes(!), but I'm not a wise sage when it comes to policy and practice. Not even close, really. And I CERTAINLY am not aBible scholar, though I know I should be. Sometimes I feel compelled to represent myself as both sage and scholar, when really I haven't a clue of what to do or where to go to find the answers

I love crazy irreverent humor. I love to make fun of myself and some of the most joyful moments in my life have been laughing raucously with others who will laugh at themselves. I am not a saint. Not even close. Nor am I a comedian. And to pretend to be otherwise isn't honest either.

I'm finding as I move into 31 that I am dissatisfied with being a chameleon, but also dissatisfied at being uncovered as a weird creature without category -- a platypus, if you will. I find myself wishing I was like the brilliant, faithful women at CH, or the amazing pastors and preachers I've known and know, or the hilarious commentor on the BBC. Without the superlatives, these things are me -- wife/momma, pastor/preacher, commentator. It's silly to be envious of not fitting into a category, but I still wish, wish, wish there was one for me.

It seems so immature now that it's in writing, yet I sense there are others (all of whom may be related to me) who struggle with this, too.

I guess the solution is simply to be more honest and seek answers to my existential queries in prayer. After all, I guess God knows my category and loves the reality of me, even if I'm not sure about me yet.

Or perhaps they can't hear us because we're not saying anything

The United Church News, the print news service of the United Church of Christ published an article, "Amplifying the Mainline" this month. The article addresses the woeful lack of presence by mainline church leaders in major news media. It cites a report by the research group, Media Matters that indicates that mainline churches, who according to the article, happen to hold one-quarter of America's church-going membership, are rarely, if ever, represented on national news reports.
The article also goes beyond merely lamenting the presence of mainline church leaders in discussions of Christianity to focus on the work of the Institute for Religion and Democracy, an institution dedicated to reforming the mainline church through a return to biblical principles. In the article it's called a "neo-con" organization that has been launching systematic attacks on the mainline denominations "to disrupt mainline churches, discredit their national agencies, and 'decapitate' mainline leaders. "
So now we know why mainline churches have been failing to reach the hearts of the American public. It's "their" fault.
Or -- and I know this is a stretch -- perhaps it's not someone else's fault at all. Perhaps it's because we haven't had anything to say.
For at least four decades mainline churches have been more focused on holding together crumbling infrastructures and maintaining outdated hierarchies than focusing on what gave us our status as, well, status-symbols in the first place, which was a very pointed and real effort to reach the unchurched. Somewhere along the line, we figured that since we didn't see anyone who was unchurched, they didn't exist. That, or they were "over there" in some far off country or they were young and foolish and would join our ways if just given enough time, though we'd be darned if we were going to expend much effort on them in the meantime. We had proud histories of ministry and change. We rested on them, clung to them, and held them up whenever anyone asked about our relevance in the world.
Into that void, stepped the young upstarts, the evangelical, pentecostal, and charismatic churches who bothered to connect with youth, made mission a priority, worked on being relevant in their communications, and decided to make history now rather than reflect upon it.
Et voila! Evangelicals on the rise, mainline in decline.
Clearly it was "their" fault.
Ok. I know it's more complicated than all of this, but really -- do we have anyone to point to other than ourselves? We're the ones who have let this happen, who have treasured institutions over individuals, structures over Spirit, process over people. This mess is all us, not "them."

The thing is, if we want to change whether we are heard, we cannot use our scant resources to work against those we see as our antagonists. That's just immature and childish. Nor can we adopt the victim mentality with which we are all far too familiar and whine about how those mean big voices are drowning us out. So what if "they" are out to get us? Shake the dust off our feet and get on with ministry, for heaven's sake.
It's time to move beyond this and start actually doing what our denominations were founded to do -- put faith into action without leaving our brains at the door.
The fact is -- the mainline churches do actually have a pretty large leg to stand on when it comes to Biblical theology. We've got pretty good ideas, really, and a history to back us up and inspire us, not excuse us from action.

But in order to speak, we're going to have to have something to say. As the article in United Church News said, quoting Robert Edgar, general secretary of the National Council of Churches said, "It's time for mainline church leaders to spend less time trying to hold their organizations together, and speak instead about those issues that God cares about -- that God cares about the poor. God cares about justice. God cares about the stewardship of the Earth."

And it would really help if we knew what we were talking about. Most of us are terrified by the evangelicals living next door because they know the Bible and we don't. Well, the way to fix that is to read the Bible. Get into a personal relationship with Jesus. Find the mission to which He is calling us. Put faith into action.

And while we're at it, let's just ignore the people trying to derail the plan. Let's not get distracted. Let's not stoop to that level. If conservative groups in our denominations want to call us faithless, so be it. Let's not turn around and call them simple. Let's not prooftext unless we want to be prooftext-ed to. Let's not express pity for the poor fools while looking down the nose at them either.

Let's just follow Jesus.

This seems like a no-brainer to me. If we want to be heard, why don't we start saying something worth hearing. Better yet, why don't we let our actions speak louder than our words. Let's change the world. Eventually, they'll hear what we have to say.

Of peonies and parting-places

Memorial Day weekends of the past found my sister and I riding in the back of my grandparents' car, fighting hard for self-control to not tap each other or poke each other or do some other annoying thing to fill the 15 minute trip between cemeteries.

The trunk of the car would be filled with peonies -- beautiful arrangements cut from Grammy's heavy peony bushes, interlaced with greenery, placed in aluminum juice cans and wrapped in newspaper, ready to be dropped into the vases on the graves of remembered relatives. The plastic bucket and wooden handled brush were there, too. And a rag made from one of Gramps' old undershirts was tucked in between the juice-can vases.

First were Grammy's parents in the old part of the cemetery in Washington, IL, then out to the country near Deer Creek to honor other relatives, then back to Eureka to tend to Gramps' parents' graves and the smallest and most haunting, the grave of their daughter, my aunt, Patsy, who had died when she was just two years old.

We'd approach the graves carrying the peonies and a bucket. Gramps would go off to fill the bucket with water and Grammy would brush any leaves or grass from the headstone with the rag. When Gramps returned, they'd wash the stone carefully and arrange the flowers. Then they'd stand for a moment in silence.

By this time, my sister and I would be running around the other graves, careful to show the respect Gramps had reminded us of on the way there. But as I grew older, I watched this ritual more carefully. Rather than running through the gravestones, I stood by Grammy's side as she paused near her parents' graves. I watched as Gramps brushed away the grass clippings from Patsy's stone. I also stood in silence pondering these people who had come before.

This year it will be me who loads up the car with peonies and iris and whatever other flowers are in bloom. My grandparents have long stopped filling the vases and carrying the water buckets and bending over to tend the graves opting instead for a slow drive-by at their parents' graves and an amble across the hill to pause a moment with Patsy.

It is a great honor to be silently passed peony-duty. I have always found myself drawn to these parting-places -- places where we leave a remembrance of our beloveds having trusted that we do not leave them at all, for we have already returned them to their Creator's eternal care. To me these parting-places are places of deep Peace.

So this year, I will brush off the stones and place the flowers. And as a mother this year, I will wonder if when tending Patsy's grave, Grammy and Gramps have brushed the grass off of that stone and thought of the way her hair lay on her head and how they used to stroke it away. And as a daughter, I will touch the cold granite on my great-grandparents' markers and wonder if Gramps and Grammy have touched the stones on their parents' final resting places and remembered what it was like to lay a hand on Momma or Daddy as a child.

Tonight my husband and I took flowers to the grave of my father in law, Harold, Dennis' dad, who passed away several months before I came to this church, far too soon. I watched as Dennis crouched in front of the marker and brushed away the grass and used a little water from the irises we brought to rub away marks on the stone. His hand lingered tenderly on the picture of the tractor his mother had engraved on the stone. And I know that as he touched that Farmall, his heart was that of a little boy watching his Daddy plow the field.

Such a small space separates those we love who live now safe in the arms of God and those of us who must be content with this earthly life. In moments like those I will encounter at the cemeteries, moments of pause, the line between "here" and "there" seems so faintly drawn.

And perhaps that's because "here" and "there" are really the same; for those that have been, those that are and those that will be are all so closely held and deeply treasured in the heart of God.

It's just that in these times of reflection we see through a mirror darkly how close together we actually are.

And that is such a great blessing and a source of such deep Peace, that I find myself praying that every place will be a parting-place where every day I will be more aware of just how close to heaven we are when we rest secure in the promises of God.

Muddled in the mundane

I am not from a family who embraces the virtues of routines. This is putting it very lightly. We didn't even have a clock until I was in first grade and my mother had received tons of complaints from teachers about my tardiness, thus forcing us to join the temporal world.

Deadlines and daily tasks are struggles for me. I fight with myself to see these things as worthy of my time. I would rather see them as mundane, ordinary, less valued than whatever it is that I wish to be doing.

I used to be able to get away with this as a single person, but as a wife and mother, I can't. These daily tasks structure our days and my poor husband and daughter suffer when I decide that making dinner (which *gasping in surprise* just so happens to occur every evening) is below me this evening. My congregation suffers when I decide to forego the office to stay home and work on sermonizing here or put off a visit to hastily cook the aforementioned unplanned dinner. These tasks I have muddled in my mind thinking of them as mundane. They are not mundane; they are ordinary.

In ecclesial life, ordinary is derived from ordinal meaning numbered. And when one numbers something, it is given attention, position, and place. It is anything but mundane.

I am reminded of the Psalmist, "Lord, teach us to number our days that we might gain a heart of wisdom" (Ps. 90). I am learning that it is in paying the attention, seeing the position, and setting the place, even on ordinary tasks, that I focus not on my own fleeting desires, but on God's larger purpose for me. Oh, to gain a bit of wisdom along the way!

Once again, Ann V. has meditated upon this far more deeply and eloquently than I ever could. In her post here (which is only part 1 so be sure to read parts 2-5 in the links at the bottom of the post), she relates her daily tasks of laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc., but I think her meditations apply to any daily tasks, be they baking or filing or typing or visiting or praying.

These days are indeed a gift from God. Help me to see this in every task therein, Lord. Teach me to number my ways. Lead me to a heart of wisdom.

Amazing grace, indeed

In What's So Amazing about Grace?, Phillip Yancey writes:

"Not long ago I received in the mail a postcard from a friend that had on it only six words, "I am the one Jesus loves." I smiled when I saw the return address, for my strange friend excels at these pious slogans. When I called him, though, he told me the slogan came from the author and speaker Brennan Manning. At a seminar, Manning referred to Jesus' closest friend on earth, the disciple named John, identified in the Gospels as "the one Jesus loved." Manning said, "If John were to be asked, 'What is your primary identity in life?' he would not reply, 'I am a disciple, an apostle, an evangelist, an author of one of the four Gospels,' but rather, 'I am the one Jesus loves.'"

What would it mean, I ask myself, if I too came to the place where I saw my primary identity in life as "the one Jesus loves"? How differently would I view myself at the end of a day?Sociologists have a theory of the looking-glass self: you become what the most important person in your life (wife, father, boss, etc.) thinks you are. How would my life change if I truly believed the Bible's astounding words about God's love for me, if I looked in the mirror and saw what God sees?"

Brennan Manning tells the story of an Irish priest who, on a walking tour of a rural parish, sees an old peasant kneeling by the side of the road, praying. Impressed, the priest says to the man, "You must be very close to God." The peasant looks up from his prayers, thinks a moment, and then smiles, "Yes, he's very fond of me." [pp. 68-69]

I am the one Jesus loves. So are you. Such good news, eh?

My fishing buddy

My friend Joby and I had a conversation about church today, as I mentioned in the post below.
We were taking an opportunity to do some joint-ranting and during said rant we started talking about the "relationship with Jesus" aspect of a sustainable faith.
The thing is -- that phrase "relationship with Jesus" is something that scares many of us mainline Christians. We prefer to know Jesus as "Christ" and thereby keep him a little removed and certainly more controlable.
I think we're scared because "relationship with Jesus" implies a surrender like any good relationship. We've got to give up a little (or a lot) of ourselves to let another have space in our lives. The fulcrum of any good relationship is a trust that the other will treat the space created with respect, but in order to trust, there's a lot of surrender, and surrender means lack of control in midst of a myriad of unknowns. And boy do we ever dislike the unknown.
Joby reminded me of a seminary professor of ours who took offense to the phrase, "Jesus is my fishing buddy." I don't know whether he saw that on a bumper sticker or whether it was just a colloquialism passed around that part of Kentucky, but he was really adamant that fishing buddy is expressly NOT a role Jesus should be in. But why not? As Joby reminded me today, perhaps our professor had never been fishing with a buddy.

And I thought of the few times I have been fishing, all with my grandfather as my fishing buddy. Gramps selected the spot, prepared the tackle, baited the hook, showed me how to cast, sat in companionable silence as we waited for the fish to bite and listened to the cicadas. He listened to my questions, provided some answers, gently introduced other possibilities. When we were done, he had me help put everything away and we headed home to enjoy our catch. My fishing buddy was secure, comforting, and loving. It's not that he didn't challenge me -- Gramps made me put many a worm on a hook -- but I trusted that he would not hurt me and that the challenges would bring me growth and open up new worlds to me.

As I see it, it would be pretty darn beneficial if more of us in these churches had a relationship with Jesus that could be likened to that of a fishing buddy. It's gotta be better than not necessarily knowing if we even have a relationship in the first place!

I named this blog GO FISH because my job as a pastor is to find inspiration and share hope with others and to lead them to the Fisherman and their role as fishers. But this is not just my task or the task of those of us who have jumped through the seminary hoops. This is what Jesus said to those he asked to follow him. "Come follow me," he said, "And I will make you fish for people."

It's almost as if he assumed that knowing him and following him would naturally encourage us to invite others on the fishing expedition. I pray that's the case for those of us who have chosen to follow.

Setting up shop

Inspired by a conversation with my good friend, James Joby, today, I decided to move the posts related to church/ faith from my other more general spew-forth-about-anything-in-my-mind blog over to this one. This way nobody has to sift through Annalivia pics or recipes for Zucchini Cake to get to my manifestos on churchy stuff.
It is my hope that my pastor friends will set up their own blogs (hint, hint, friends) so that we can share our thoughts on life in ministry with each other, our congregants and others.
Send me your links when you set up your blogs and I'll link you on the side!

Praying for purpose

Last night, I talked to Carl before our church board meeting about the possibility of Sunday School in the fall. Carl is a brilliant guy. Really. And he's one of the most thoughtful, devoted and faithful Christians I've ever met. I'm really blessed that he's in this church.
So I talked to Carl about my feeling that God has been asking me to teach Sunday School asked him to join me in praying for direction.
He said he would and then asked if there was something more we can do.
So we spent the next 15 minutes brainstorming all sorts of things.
And when we got to the board meeting and Carl mentioned the desire to do a Sunday School, I asked everyone to pray for direction. And I could tell that they thought, "well, duh, yeah. Now what else can we do."
Do, do, do...
I understand the inclination. I really do. Praying about something can seem so passive, especially if the something about which we are praying is something as involved and technical as starting an education ministry from the ashes of a 100 year program. We want to "do" something, start acting with purpose, make some small movement that will set in motion whatever will eventually happen.
But, for some reason, I think that the ONLY thing that we can do right now is pray for direction.
Maybe that's because none of us in that church have the slightest clue about how to do an educational ministry that is not for ourselves, but for Jesus Christ and Jesus Christ alone. Maybe it's because all of us have a hundred ideas and we aren't really sure which one is God's.
I don't know.
I have a feeling -- a deep feeling that I am suspecting is not actually created by me at all, but is actually of the Spirit's genesis -- that our ministry here at this church will become one of mentoring and modeling. We live in a community that has the second highest rates of teenage pregnancy in the state of Illinois. We have the highest rate of acts of sexual aggression in the state. Here! It's crazy to think of.
We have generations and generations of people in this community who have not grown up with two parents or even two grandparents. We have mothers who don't know their fathers. And fathers who have never learned what it means to commit to a family.
In short, this place DESPERATELY needs Christians who are willing to step up and show these people how to do it. They don't need folks to castigate them. They don't need any more handouts. They need someone to say, "If you want to learn how to be a faithful Christian family, we'll show you how. If you want to learn how to be a faithful Christian mother and raise faithful Christian children, here's the place you come. If you want to learn how to be a faithful Christian father and provide for a faithful Christian family, come on."
Of course, this implies that we need to be faithful folks modeling this in the first place which is SO intimidating for so many of us! Why, OH WHY, do we expect that relationship with Jesus is supposed to be easy? This is the guy who was crucified. His disciples were martyred. He told us to deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow him. If something's so easy that we don't need to make any effort or sacrifices, is it even worth doing?
Anyway, now I'm ranting/rambling.
So. I have my friend Carl praying for us. And I'm praying for direction, for purpose, and for a mission and most of all, for our willingness to receive these things.
Those aren't TOO big, are they?
For nothing is impossible with God! -Lk. 1:37

When a girl is called by God...

An incredibly interesting article by Ben Witherington on the role of women in churches can be found here. Special thanks to Molly over at Choosing Home who graciously responded to my intro on the Choosing Home forums with kindness.

The shadow proves the sunshine

It was a hard day at church this morning.
Our secretary passed away during the evening after a brief, but brutal battle with lung cancer. She was too young.
I tried to pass the news around the church before we got to the Lifting Up our Joys and Concerns portion of our service this morning. But there was the audible gasp of air as I shared our concern for her family and our thanksgiving that she passed into eternal life peacefully.
During the morning prayer, I could feel the heaviness of the congregation. It is hard to trust that the future is in God's hands, especially when loved ones are struggling with illness and uncertainty. We came before God asking for comfort and assurance and praying for courage and faith. But I felt like we didn't have a chance to say all that needs to be said, or express our longings clearly enough.
My sister gave me the new Switchfoot cd for my birthday. I keep hearing,
"O, Lord, don't be far away...storm clouds gathering beside me... please Lord, don't look the other way" And at the end
"the shadow proves the sunshine...let my shadows prove the sunshine."
In the midst of the heaviness and the depth of feeling my congregation is bearing right now, there is so much more to say. There are so many questions that will go unanswered. There is so much grief that will hit us when we least expect it. There is just so much! These situations have knocked us down before.

I pray we can continue to bear witness to our faith in the Comforter.
Lord, let our shadows still prove the Sunshine.

How do we get out of this mess? (A post on problems in the mainline church!)

I am worried about my denomination.
Ok, yeah -- I know that where we end up will be in the hands of God.
But I'm worried about my denomination.
We in the mainline church have kind of screwed things up. Well, not "kind of." We've really screwed things up!
Our churches are facing aging populations, struggling or irrelevant ministries, and, needless to say, declining budgets.
And none of us know what to do about it.
We pray. At least, I do. I pray that God will revive us. I pray God will reform us. I pray God will renew us. I pray God will just help us!!
And I think about our decline a lot. Probably a lot of my posts will be on this subject, so any readers should just get ready.
Here's the thing -- I think somewhere along the line, we committed a pretty big sin when we turned church into a country club that even Jesus couldn't join. I hate to say this, because the genesis was before my time and I hate to point fingers and throw stones when I know that I am failing at being a witness to Christ in a gazillion different ways. But for just a second, can I put that aside and say, "What the heck were we thinking?" And how can we atone for something that most of us are unwilling to admit and many are willing to sacrifice the call to make Christ known to all the earth to perpetuate?
I grew up in a church full of good people -- honest people. And I was beloved there. And I LOVED the feeling of being loved. And that sustained me through most of my growing up and even into college. That human relationship was a really good starting point.
But it wasn't enough to sustain me through seminary and into my first pastorate where I finally realized, thanks be to God, that the only relationship that is going to give me love enough to get through days when people think you've failed them (and you have!) is a relationship with Jesus Christ.
And frankly, I'm kind of ticked off that no one in my church or my college or even my seminary had the guts to question me and challenge me as to where my joy for the church lay because my denomination is so darn grateful to have anybody under 30, or heck, 60, in a room, let alone preparing for ministry, that they will let pretty much anybody in, even somebody as clearly starved for Jesus as I was!
What happened to us? Our denomination was at the forefront of changing the world less than 100 years ago. We had people turning over their lives to Christ right and left and leaving behind all forms of certainty to follow what God wanted them to do. We had children who knew the Word of God not just that their favorite felt-board character was Miriam. We had teenagers who went to college training for the ministry, college students who were heading overseas in missionary work, parents mentoring children in the way of God, older adults working alongside younger adults. And this was not a fascist group. Men and women, young and old, all were finding a calling in bringing about the kingdom of God.
I might be accused of yearning for a past that will not come again, but friends, I think we must figure out a way to return to that sense of calling. We absolutely cannot sit back and let the few children in our churches absorb the sense of relationship with Jesus by accident! In my opinion, our children need a foundation in the Bible that will provide for them throughout of their lives. They need to memorize Psalm 23 and the 10 Commandments. They need to know scriptures by heart so that as teenagers and adults the words that are in their hearts are the words of LIFE!! Our teenagers need to see young adults working in the church and being honored and cherished for their willingness to follow God. They need to see that when they graduate from college, they will have a place in our churches where they can put into action their faith without us providing a gazillion hurdles over which they have to jump to be involved! And our young adults need the same respect! They also need adults who are ending the process of raising families and have tried to work out how to be faithful stewards of their resources who will be mentors to the younger adults. And we need mature adults who are willing to work hard for the church so that those who are younger don't have to sacrifice their families to sustain a Sunday School program! And we need older adults who are willing to be the voice of wisdom, yet are also willing to trust those who are younger to use their gifts for ministry, all the while knowing that they are not being pushed aside because of their age, but instead honored and respected.
It's not like I'm just pulling these ideas out of the air. Check out Proverbs 22:6, Titus 2, Leviticus 19:32. 2 Timothy 3: 14-15. I could go on... (And, yes, I know that as mainliners our skin crawls when somebody takes scripture "out of context." Well, for right now, so what? Set within the larger context of the biblical mandate to raise up generations of faithful people and the failure of our churches to do so, the context does not work in our favor!)
And thus is my lament. But without a willingness to confront these shortcomings, I'm just whining. I want to be clear -- I love my denomination and really truly believe that it has a GREAT things to offer. (I'll post more about those sometime soon). But I believe its people need an intervention so that we can let the good things inherent in its history and mission come forth.
So here's what I'm going to do, and I'm going to invite those of you are also concerned about these things to join me in figuring out what God wants you to do about this.

My plan.

1. Pray. I'm going to pray for God's church, for my church and that they might be one and the same. I'm going to pray that God will help us to find a way towards faithfulness.
2. Seek. I need to start really reading the scriptures and looking for God's Word to speak to me and my congregation.
3. Trust. I need to trust that God will lead us and speak to us. I think this goes hand-in-hand with #1 and #2.
4. Listen. Open ears make it easier to hear God's plan for me and our church.
5. Act. I need to put into action what God has told me. I think that God has been asking me to help teach our Sunday School for a long time. I keep thinking that maybe He'd want to rethink that, but so far we've no such luck.
6. Encourage. I'm going to ask others in my church to pray and trust and act on what God has been asking them to do. I'm going to encourage their efforts, even if they are being led in directions I haven't considered.
7. Respect. I'm going to listen to God, but also to those who are also praying for His direction. If they believe that we are being led differently than I, I'm going to respect their opinions and try to work out any differences with prayer and discernment.

I pray that this is a good start. I hope that those of you with similar concerns will interact with me, especially by agreeing to pray for our churches.
May God go with us!