Last Tuesday, a lay leader at a wonderful Tampa church said something that spoke deeply to my soul. As you may remember, I join 40 other young adult Disciples pastors every six months for five days of prayer,
fellowship, learning, and on Wednesday, 24 hours of silence. And our sponsor, the Bethany Fellowships, pays for it! I can’t say enough about how central this routine has become to my spirit’s health, and how I appreciate your understanding of that fact.
Anyway, last week we did our typical Tuesday site visit to a local church, this one Hyde Park United Methodist, and four HPUMC members took time to tell us their stories. I was very impressed with how articulate they were about the personal impact of faith! Apparently, they’d put much thought and practice into describing why God and participating in Christian community matters to them, and how God operates in their lives. But one in particular, a mother named Mary, said something, as I mentioned, that greatly moved me. Here it is (slightly paraphrased): “I’m a reluctant leader; never really volunteered for leadership positions, but when asked, at times said yes. And I’ve found, over the years, that when I was presented with something I didn’t initially feel capable of, but then did well, my faith grew and deepened. I’ve learned from those experiences that God does truly provide. Seeing God at work in me, by helping me serve my church and its ministries, built greater trust in God, which assists in elsewhere in life.”
WOW, what an incredible description of faith! It’s not your typical ‘I have faith because I believe …’ statement, but a poignant, personal description of belief grounded in trust. Deepening her faith meant trusting more fully in the substance of her belief grounded in trust. Deepening her faith meant trusting more fully in the substance of her belief- God- not simply stating her ‘beliefs’ more passionately or more often. (Good) Theologians will tell you that’s right on the money. But what struck me most about her words was that I’ve heard asked, and asked myself many times, a related question: How does one gain greater trust in God? Sell all your possessions and give them to the poor? Maybe. Pray more often, more authentically, using fewer words? That’ll help. But I’d never thought to think of what Mary said- Take on a ministry in church you’re not entirely sure you’ll do well, and in the accomplishing of that ministry, step back to see God’s hand working. Guiding you through troubles; delivering insight when necessary. To be honest, that’s probably how I built faith in God, although I’d never said it in so many words until Mary said it for me.
Which presents us with a challenge, church, if I may be so bold. It is our Christian duty to support our sisters and brothers in faith when they step out to do ministry. Whether it’s prepping communion, singing in choir, feeding the poor, or visiting the sick, Christians should support the ministry efforts of their church family members. By ‘support,’ of course, I don’t mean rubber stamp every effort, or never give constructive criticism, or accept less than the God’s best for us. But I do think it’s true that sometimes churches undermine the efforts of leaders and members by being selfish, scared or just not thinking of how actions impacts others’ actions. And if that happens, consider the implications, to use Mary’s insight: Not only does good ministry not get done, but we hold others back from growing in faith, from trusting God more fully. Each person has ultimate responsibility for her/his faith, surely, but we can do damage to others if we’re not careful.
On the flip side, when we support Christian sisters and brothers who’ve said ‘yes’ to doing God’s ministry, we’re helping give God another chance to provide. That bears, I believe, good fruit for us and the church we love, because it deepens our community’s trust in God. I.e. it builds our collective faith. It may even inspire us to say ‘yes’ again to God ourselves. Which leads to growth in our faith, which builds the community, which inspires others… A wHoly virtuous circle. And what our church can be!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
To what end...
Here is the beginning of my post.
My wife was out-of-town President’s weekend, visiting old seminary pals. So I did what I often do during such times- caught up on some reading- and finished a novel of historical fiction called “World Without End.” If you haven’t encountered this book, it’s set in England during the Middle Ages, and is the sequel to an Oprah Book Club novel, “Pillars of the Earth.” It deals with Medieval religion and politics, architecture, women’s rights, early market economies, and class issues during the horrible era of the Plague. It’s also very plot driven, i.e. challenge after challenge arises, and must be overcome. As Steve Larson put it, it’s like reading a history book, but so much more fun. I recommend it to anyone looking for a good read. Be informed, though, there’re a few, shall we say, PG-13 (at least…) scenes.
One part that that struck me was the story of two brothers- Merthin and Ralph- who take very different paths in life. Their father had been a knight, but lost his status and ‘family honor’ from debt, which changed the equation for his sons. Ralph, the younger, follows his father’s footsteps and becomes a knight. Merthin, however, wasn’t cut out for rough and tumble, so instead becomes a fabulously talented, and wealthy, builder. Being a tradesman brings lower social standing, but he doesn’t care. Ralph is ambitious enough for the family, and Merthin has other priorities anyway.
Long story short, Ralph’s pursuits lead to land, titles, prestige, but he’s does many dastardly things to get there, and ultimately ends life unhappily. Merthin, on a less ‘glorious’ path, sure, nevertheless overcomes challenges and achieves his hopes and dreams. Both professions, of course, require much hard work, discipline, years of training and practice, and either could yield a good life. But whereas Merhin directed the vigor of builder training to imaginative and productive ends, Ralph sought simply his narrow and shortsighted self-interest, foregoing any modicum of empathy and compassion.
What’s this got to do with church? Well, last week’s letter asked a question I didn’t fully answer- What are the side effects of prayer? I thought the primary effect was receiving the blessing of being directly in God’s loving presence, from which we came and to which all human endeavors move. How does that blessing, though, effect our lives over time? Are there extra benefits of prayer?
That takes me back to Ralph and Merthin’s story. Like them, we all spend time acquiring skills and talents. We work hard at being parents, students, employees, church members. We might volunteer time at favorite non-profits, or develop hobbies. But as the brothers show, getting good at something is never enough. Part of being human is choosing where to direct our efforts. The question becomes, then, what kind of human shall we be?
I presume, by caring about Christian faith, we all want to answer, “A good and faithful person.” And if I understand Jesus’ teachings correctly, he’d say ‘goodness and faithfulness’ involve empathy, concern for our neighbors. Jesus would rather see us be Merthins, not Ralphs, whether we’re builders, soldiers, or whatever. I think that’s where prayer can help. Studies of master meditators suggest that one effect of prayer is enhancing the brain’s capacity for compassion. Repeatedly prostrating oneself before a greater power helps people internalize that their lives aren’t all that’s important. Christians have long suspected this; science is beginning to show why. And sure, that doesn’t mean each prayer will ‘work,’ in the sense that God will give me the Ferrari I’ve long requested. But through weekly worship, daily prayer, even simple mealtime blessings, we discipline ourselves to acquire the skills of compassion. We direct our time and energies to learning a lifestyle of love. And this not only helps us meet others’ needs, but even provides perspective for all work we do. We become more understanding parents, grandparents and spouses, more engaged church members, our business endeavors build equity for shareholders and the common good. Can prayer alone do this? Perhaps, perhaps not. Can we get there without it? Maybe, but why turn our backs on what works? Side effects, indeed!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
My wife was out-of-town President’s weekend, visiting old seminary pals. So I did what I often do during such times- caught up on some reading- and finished a novel of historical fiction called “World Without End.” If you haven’t encountered this book, it’s set in England during the Middle Ages, and is the sequel to an Oprah Book Club novel, “Pillars of the Earth.” It deals with Medieval religion and politics, architecture, women’s rights, early market economies, and class issues during the horrible era of the Plague. It’s also very plot driven, i.e. challenge after challenge arises, and must be overcome. As Steve Larson put it, it’s like reading a history book, but so much more fun. I recommend it to anyone looking for a good read. Be informed, though, there’re a few, shall we say, PG-13 (at least…) scenes.
One part that that struck me was the story of two brothers- Merthin and Ralph- who take very different paths in life. Their father had been a knight, but lost his status and ‘family honor’ from debt, which changed the equation for his sons. Ralph, the younger, follows his father’s footsteps and becomes a knight. Merthin, however, wasn’t cut out for rough and tumble, so instead becomes a fabulously talented, and wealthy, builder. Being a tradesman brings lower social standing, but he doesn’t care. Ralph is ambitious enough for the family, and Merthin has other priorities anyway.
Long story short, Ralph’s pursuits lead to land, titles, prestige, but he’s does many dastardly things to get there, and ultimately ends life unhappily. Merthin, on a less ‘glorious’ path, sure, nevertheless overcomes challenges and achieves his hopes and dreams. Both professions, of course, require much hard work, discipline, years of training and practice, and either could yield a good life. But whereas Merhin directed the vigor of builder training to imaginative and productive ends, Ralph sought simply his narrow and shortsighted self-interest, foregoing any modicum of empathy and compassion.
What’s this got to do with church? Well, last week’s letter asked a question I didn’t fully answer- What are the side effects of prayer? I thought the primary effect was receiving the blessing of being directly in God’s loving presence, from which we came and to which all human endeavors move. How does that blessing, though, effect our lives over time? Are there extra benefits of prayer?
That takes me back to Ralph and Merthin’s story. Like them, we all spend time acquiring skills and talents. We work hard at being parents, students, employees, church members. We might volunteer time at favorite non-profits, or develop hobbies. But as the brothers show, getting good at something is never enough. Part of being human is choosing where to direct our efforts. The question becomes, then, what kind of human shall we be?
I presume, by caring about Christian faith, we all want to answer, “A good and faithful person.” And if I understand Jesus’ teachings correctly, he’d say ‘goodness and faithfulness’ involve empathy, concern for our neighbors. Jesus would rather see us be Merthins, not Ralphs, whether we’re builders, soldiers, or whatever. I think that’s where prayer can help. Studies of master meditators suggest that one effect of prayer is enhancing the brain’s capacity for compassion. Repeatedly prostrating oneself before a greater power helps people internalize that their lives aren’t all that’s important. Christians have long suspected this; science is beginning to show why. And sure, that doesn’t mean each prayer will ‘work,’ in the sense that God will give me the Ferrari I’ve long requested. But through weekly worship, daily prayer, even simple mealtime blessings, we discipline ourselves to acquire the skills of compassion. We direct our time and energies to learning a lifestyle of love. And this not only helps us meet others’ needs, but even provides perspective for all work we do. We become more understanding parents, grandparents and spouses, more engaged church members, our business endeavors build equity for shareholders and the common good. Can prayer alone do this? Perhaps, perhaps not. Can we get there without it? Maybe, but why turn our backs on what works? Side effects, indeed!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
You never know…
We’ve all heard of things happening that, yeah, sure, whatever, it must happen somewhere, to someone- lucky gal- but it never, ever happens to me! Harrumph. Like winning the lottery. Inheriting a Caribbean island from a long-lost uncle. Getting picked for Survivor. Well, I’m proud to inform you- and please don’t take this as gloating- something like that finally happened to me!
Here’s what went down. Recently, my wife and I were on a midweek date. We’d purchased a Groupon coupon for a joint called Pizza Mia. $15 for $30 worth of food. Not too shabby, right? Anyway, there we were, talking about work, family, the incredible goings-on in Egypt and all the stuff you talk about over dinner. The waiter brought our food. We bowed our heads in thankful prayer. Food started disappearing off our plates, into our bellies, when suddenly, this random guy walked up to us. “Hi,” he said smiling, obviously another satisfied customer on his way out the door, “I just wanted to tell you how much your prayer blessed me.” “Huh. Thanks,” we said, “We’re glad!” He shook our hands and left.
Unexpected interruption, certainly, but quite nice, right? We smiled at each other, said, “How cool,” and continued our meal. As it ended, we gave the coupon to the waiter and asked for the check. But he hesitated, like he was searching for words. I thought, “How hard can it be to say, ‘Yes, I’ll get your check’…” Then it happened, that thing that never happens to me- He said, “Actually, your check has already been paid for.” “What?!” we responded, “Even the tip?!” “Yep, another customer took care of everything. Have a nice night.” I looked at Tabitha shocked. She reciprocated, then broke into a grin. “I bet I know who did that,” she said. “I bet I do too…”
I’ve heard many a people over the years pontificate about the power of prayer. Sometimes they say profound things. Sometimes it’s more about what they hope is true regarding prayer, than what’s theologically justifiable. Apparently, though, they are sometimes unintended, unexpected benefits of prayer, as my dinner check example means to illustrate. It was, of course, a completely random act; whether we said something the guy liked, or he was simply moved by witnessing two young adults with heads bowed in public, I’ll never know. I.e. God wasn’t rewarding us for a prayer well prayed! Still, have you taken time recently to consider the side effects of prayer?
I frame the question that way because we probably think the primary effects of prayer are that, well, we get what we pray for. Take my example- I prayed, “God, bless this food and the hands that prepared it, so we may be stewards of their and all your gifts.” Did God actually give that blessing? I got a reduced cost meal, but I’ve prayed that prayer many times without that result. Besides, I asked for a food blessing and got something else. Or when we pray the Lord’s Prayer, “Thy Kingdom come on earth.” Does that happen?
...Yes, I think it does. But I wonder if we’re often not expecting the answer we get. We pray, “God, bless this food,” or, “Thy Kingdom come on earth,” and while we may mean many different things by that, we should always also intend this - That we’ll feel, in our midst, even if for just that moment, God’s goodness and presence. Food being blessed, God’s Kingdom coming on earth, one way to define those prayers is that we experience- spiritually, emotionally, physically- the reality of our loving God, who wants to provide our every need. And when you ask God for those things, you intentionally put yourself in God’s presence. Meaning- You’re receiving the primary effect of your prayer as you pray. If you’re paying attention, that is.
So back to the original question, “What are the side effects of prayer?” I’ll get into that next week; space has run out! But send me your thoughts, take time to pray, and then recall that the most popular mantra (a Hindu and Buddhist prayer-like tradition) in the world is…Ohm. Which means,
Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Here’s what went down. Recently, my wife and I were on a midweek date. We’d purchased a Groupon coupon for a joint called Pizza Mia. $15 for $30 worth of food. Not too shabby, right? Anyway, there we were, talking about work, family, the incredible goings-on in Egypt and all the stuff you talk about over dinner. The waiter brought our food. We bowed our heads in thankful prayer. Food started disappearing off our plates, into our bellies, when suddenly, this random guy walked up to us. “Hi,” he said smiling, obviously another satisfied customer on his way out the door, “I just wanted to tell you how much your prayer blessed me.” “Huh. Thanks,” we said, “We’re glad!” He shook our hands and left.
Unexpected interruption, certainly, but quite nice, right? We smiled at each other, said, “How cool,” and continued our meal. As it ended, we gave the coupon to the waiter and asked for the check. But he hesitated, like he was searching for words. I thought, “How hard can it be to say, ‘Yes, I’ll get your check’…” Then it happened, that thing that never happens to me- He said, “Actually, your check has already been paid for.” “What?!” we responded, “Even the tip?!” “Yep, another customer took care of everything. Have a nice night.” I looked at Tabitha shocked. She reciprocated, then broke into a grin. “I bet I know who did that,” she said. “I bet I do too…”
I’ve heard many a people over the years pontificate about the power of prayer. Sometimes they say profound things. Sometimes it’s more about what they hope is true regarding prayer, than what’s theologically justifiable. Apparently, though, they are sometimes unintended, unexpected benefits of prayer, as my dinner check example means to illustrate. It was, of course, a completely random act; whether we said something the guy liked, or he was simply moved by witnessing two young adults with heads bowed in public, I’ll never know. I.e. God wasn’t rewarding us for a prayer well prayed! Still, have you taken time recently to consider the side effects of prayer?
I frame the question that way because we probably think the primary effects of prayer are that, well, we get what we pray for. Take my example- I prayed, “God, bless this food and the hands that prepared it, so we may be stewards of their and all your gifts.” Did God actually give that blessing? I got a reduced cost meal, but I’ve prayed that prayer many times without that result. Besides, I asked for a food blessing and got something else. Or when we pray the Lord’s Prayer, “Thy Kingdom come on earth.” Does that happen?
...Yes, I think it does. But I wonder if we’re often not expecting the answer we get. We pray, “God, bless this food,” or, “Thy Kingdom come on earth,” and while we may mean many different things by that, we should always also intend this - That we’ll feel, in our midst, even if for just that moment, God’s goodness and presence. Food being blessed, God’s Kingdom coming on earth, one way to define those prayers is that we experience- spiritually, emotionally, physically- the reality of our loving God, who wants to provide our every need. And when you ask God for those things, you intentionally put yourself in God’s presence. Meaning- You’re receiving the primary effect of your prayer as you pray. If you’re paying attention, that is.
So back to the original question, “What are the side effects of prayer?” I’ll get into that next week; space has run out! But send me your thoughts, take time to pray, and then recall that the most popular mantra (a Hindu and Buddhist prayer-like tradition) in the world is…Ohm. Which means,
Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Shared experience…
Last week, I heard someone suggest the following- In American culture, the last great shared cultural experience we have is the Super Bowl. Love or hate football, nevertheless the Super Bowl touches most of our lives. More than that, a majority of our culture, representing all kinds of sub-groups with little in common, will join in watching this game. The Oscars no longer draw large amounts of interested spectators. Musicians nowadays don’t gain the iconic status of previous performers. And church, well, I’m not sure that was ever a ‘broadly shared cultural experience,’ whatever we pastors tell ourselves about the ‘good ole days’! But hey, there’s still the Super Bowl, whether you care only for the commercials, or watch because “that’s the thing to do.” Indeed, it holds that much more importance in our culture because, well, nothing else unites as many people around a shared experience. Or at least that’s the theory. And if it’s true, I wonder if that says anything important about us?
It’s easy to imagine a culture in which things are different, right? For most of human history, our various societies had many shared experiences, probably because we lived so close together! When we did branch out, though, we were often united by shared systems of religious rituals, as well as languages, clothing, commerce and common cuisines. I’ve even heard historians claim that human history is the history of finding, cooking and eating food! Whatever the case, a ‘culture’ implies numerous shared experiences.
America’s a different place, though, it seems. One- we’re really big! Also, we’re not old, so we don’t have centuries of accumulated food wisdom (regionally, perhaps, but that’s different…). Plus, our nation was built by folk from other lands, who brought their foods, languages, and beliefs with them. E Pluribus Unum. In other countries, athletic events like the World Cup or Olympics consume all available cultural energy when they occur, while America still favors our version of football. Even clothing isn’t as common an American experience as elsewhere. Wait- we do have jeans- so I’ll amend the Super Bowl theory to include Levi’s!
Does that say anything about us? I’ve heard some claim it’s an example of our cultural shallowness, that America lacks the profundity of other nations, with their histories, cuisines, cathedrals and music. Call me a stubborn nationalist, but those arguments always struck me as more elitist, or jealous, than true. I wonder if, rather, that’s an expression of our cultural ease with uniqueness. Some would use the term ‘diversity,’ others might say ‘freedom,’ but whatever your preference I feel that, for better or worse, Americans celebrate, or at least value, unique people and ideas. Thus, there’s been little pressure to assimilate all the various cuisines that reached our shores. We’ve nurtured multiple musical forms (hip-hop, bluegrass, gospel, pop) to maintain their distinctiveness. Even our religions value uniqueness; there’s over 200 different American Christian denominations! Indeed, it’s no accident that our flavor, the Disciples of Christ, began on the American Frontier, committed as we are to freedom of interpretation and expression.
This comes with drawbacks, of course, like a temptation to idolize individualism, or frequent rejection of accumulated wisdom. Also, the history of American racism and segregation probably contributed much to the lack of a ‘unifying culture.’ Nevertheless, from this American’s perspective, there’s real value in the entrepreneurial instinct of our culture; it can certainly keep our religious life fresh and interesting! So perhaps it’s appropriate that attitude finds expression in a uniquely American sporting event, with all its faults and successes- watched by many people, in multiple languages, riveted by competition, repulsed by or drawn to brutality, anticipating creative commercials, often disappointed with simply another beer ad featuring slapstick humor, laughing anyway. Surely there’re more profound and transformative experiences we have available, but that a Super Bowl occupies the place it does isn’t, to my mind, a bad thing. Romans killed Christians in the Coliseum. Ancient Mesopotamians valued human sacrifices. Football looks alright, by comparison!
Or maybe I’m reading waaay too much into a game! Still, what do you think? Does the Super Bowl’s popularity say anything important about us? Would Jesus approve?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
It’s easy to imagine a culture in which things are different, right? For most of human history, our various societies had many shared experiences, probably because we lived so close together! When we did branch out, though, we were often united by shared systems of religious rituals, as well as languages, clothing, commerce and common cuisines. I’ve even heard historians claim that human history is the history of finding, cooking and eating food! Whatever the case, a ‘culture’ implies numerous shared experiences.
America’s a different place, though, it seems. One- we’re really big! Also, we’re not old, so we don’t have centuries of accumulated food wisdom (regionally, perhaps, but that’s different…). Plus, our nation was built by folk from other lands, who brought their foods, languages, and beliefs with them. E Pluribus Unum. In other countries, athletic events like the World Cup or Olympics consume all available cultural energy when they occur, while America still favors our version of football. Even clothing isn’t as common an American experience as elsewhere. Wait- we do have jeans- so I’ll amend the Super Bowl theory to include Levi’s!
Does that say anything about us? I’ve heard some claim it’s an example of our cultural shallowness, that America lacks the profundity of other nations, with their histories, cuisines, cathedrals and music. Call me a stubborn nationalist, but those arguments always struck me as more elitist, or jealous, than true. I wonder if, rather, that’s an expression of our cultural ease with uniqueness. Some would use the term ‘diversity,’ others might say ‘freedom,’ but whatever your preference I feel that, for better or worse, Americans celebrate, or at least value, unique people and ideas. Thus, there’s been little pressure to assimilate all the various cuisines that reached our shores. We’ve nurtured multiple musical forms (hip-hop, bluegrass, gospel, pop) to maintain their distinctiveness. Even our religions value uniqueness; there’s over 200 different American Christian denominations! Indeed, it’s no accident that our flavor, the Disciples of Christ, began on the American Frontier, committed as we are to freedom of interpretation and expression.
This comes with drawbacks, of course, like a temptation to idolize individualism, or frequent rejection of accumulated wisdom. Also, the history of American racism and segregation probably contributed much to the lack of a ‘unifying culture.’ Nevertheless, from this American’s perspective, there’s real value in the entrepreneurial instinct of our culture; it can certainly keep our religious life fresh and interesting! So perhaps it’s appropriate that attitude finds expression in a uniquely American sporting event, with all its faults and successes- watched by many people, in multiple languages, riveted by competition, repulsed by or drawn to brutality, anticipating creative commercials, often disappointed with simply another beer ad featuring slapstick humor, laughing anyway. Surely there’re more profound and transformative experiences we have available, but that a Super Bowl occupies the place it does isn’t, to my mind, a bad thing. Romans killed Christians in the Coliseum. Ancient Mesopotamians valued human sacrifices. Football looks alright, by comparison!
Or maybe I’m reading waaay too much into a game! Still, what do you think? Does the Super Bowl’s popularity say anything important about us? Would Jesus approve?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Illumination…
I spent Tuesday of this week at St. John’s College and Abby; in prayer, meditation, and working on this week’s service. As a side-note, I also sampled a homemade cookie that a cook in the Abby Guesthouse randomly offered me mid-morning. Considering it bad form to turn down such unexpected hospitality, I forwent my typical, “Sorry, I don’t like sweets.” And though I’m probably the wrong person to judge, I’ll admit it was well done and rather tasty. For being a cookie, that is.
Anyway, I’ve been to this wonderful campus before, although the last time I didn’t peek in on the St. John’s Bible. Which, in retrospect, was a missed opportunity. So I rectified the mistake, and perused the display after lunch. That was, I must say, a great idea.
In case you’d forgot, this Bible is the Western World’s first Benedictine commissioned illuminated manuscript in over 500 years. In less complicated language, that means it’s a hand-painted and scripted Bible, including both beautifully wrought text and stunning artistic renderings of Scripture. Before the days of the printing press, these manuscripts were created across the Christian world; typically the painstaking work of teams of monks requiring years of faithful effort. After that invention, however, the Bible became more accessible to everyday Christians, and not simply those with resources to commission such artwork, or who knew Latin. The downside of this comidification of Scripture, though, was the virtual end of this long-nurtured artistic tradition. In this Protestant’s opinion, the tradeoff was worth it. But I do like beautiful Bibles, nevertheless.
And the St. John’s Bible certainly counts as one, amen?! Last year, a group of us attended an exhibit of the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Science Museum, at the end of which was a gallery with original pages from the St. John’s Bible. If you saw that, or have otherwise encountered these images, I’m sure you’ll agree they’re stunning. Not just pretty handwriting of biblical text, but also examples of profound theology produced through art.
I could go on and on about what’s incredible in this Bible, but I’ll limit myself, in this letter, to the illumination of Mark’s story of the feeding of the 5,000. Remember the event? It’s one of the very few moments in Jesus’ ministry that all four gospels record in some form. A bunch of folk were, one day, listening to Jesus say awesome stuff, but as the night drew near, his disciples worried about how they’d all be feed. Logistics, it seems, is a perennial complication of good ministry! So Jesus says, “Whatever, I’ll feed them.” They find him five loaves of bread and two fish. He breaks the bread, gives thanks (Communion, anyone?!), and hands it to those gathered. And in some “Son of God” way, those small morsels feed the entire crowd, such that twelve baskets of food are leftover.
In the St. John’s Bible, that scene gets depicted not literally, but impressionistically. The page is filled with images of communion wafers, little fish that are reproductions of millennia-old cave drawings in Israel (the traditional site of this story), geometric designs derived from the basket-making tradition of certain Native American tribes (i.e. God’s activity occurs beyond the boundaries of our Scripture and tradition), and smatterings of gold leaf pressed in random shapes. Apparently, the gold represents “The Divine in Scripture,” which is what makes a manuscript “illuminated.” But what I loved most was that these images pushed into the page’s margins and beyond, only broken, occasionally, by black lines and white spaces. To the artist, the black lines represent moments when people act inhospitably, or with malice. And the white spaces represent opportunities for compassion and hospitality not taken. The idea is that the multiplication of Jesus’ miraculous feeding continues, in the ongoing acts of love his followers still perform. The only thing stopping it is our unwillingness to imitate Christ’s love, by what we do, or fail to do. Which left me with a question I’m passing onto you- Who have you fed lately?
Illuminated manuscript, indeed! And not a bad way to spend a half hour in prayer.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Anyway, I’ve been to this wonderful campus before, although the last time I didn’t peek in on the St. John’s Bible. Which, in retrospect, was a missed opportunity. So I rectified the mistake, and perused the display after lunch. That was, I must say, a great idea.
In case you’d forgot, this Bible is the Western World’s first Benedictine commissioned illuminated manuscript in over 500 years. In less complicated language, that means it’s a hand-painted and scripted Bible, including both beautifully wrought text and stunning artistic renderings of Scripture. Before the days of the printing press, these manuscripts were created across the Christian world; typically the painstaking work of teams of monks requiring years of faithful effort. After that invention, however, the Bible became more accessible to everyday Christians, and not simply those with resources to commission such artwork, or who knew Latin. The downside of this comidification of Scripture, though, was the virtual end of this long-nurtured artistic tradition. In this Protestant’s opinion, the tradeoff was worth it. But I do like beautiful Bibles, nevertheless.
And the St. John’s Bible certainly counts as one, amen?! Last year, a group of us attended an exhibit of the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Science Museum, at the end of which was a gallery with original pages from the St. John’s Bible. If you saw that, or have otherwise encountered these images, I’m sure you’ll agree they’re stunning. Not just pretty handwriting of biblical text, but also examples of profound theology produced through art.
I could go on and on about what’s incredible in this Bible, but I’ll limit myself, in this letter, to the illumination of Mark’s story of the feeding of the 5,000. Remember the event? It’s one of the very few moments in Jesus’ ministry that all four gospels record in some form. A bunch of folk were, one day, listening to Jesus say awesome stuff, but as the night drew near, his disciples worried about how they’d all be feed. Logistics, it seems, is a perennial complication of good ministry! So Jesus says, “Whatever, I’ll feed them.” They find him five loaves of bread and two fish. He breaks the bread, gives thanks (Communion, anyone?!), and hands it to those gathered. And in some “Son of God” way, those small morsels feed the entire crowd, such that twelve baskets of food are leftover.
In the St. John’s Bible, that scene gets depicted not literally, but impressionistically. The page is filled with images of communion wafers, little fish that are reproductions of millennia-old cave drawings in Israel (the traditional site of this story), geometric designs derived from the basket-making tradition of certain Native American tribes (i.e. God’s activity occurs beyond the boundaries of our Scripture and tradition), and smatterings of gold leaf pressed in random shapes. Apparently, the gold represents “The Divine in Scripture,” which is what makes a manuscript “illuminated.” But what I loved most was that these images pushed into the page’s margins and beyond, only broken, occasionally, by black lines and white spaces. To the artist, the black lines represent moments when people act inhospitably, or with malice. And the white spaces represent opportunities for compassion and hospitality not taken. The idea is that the multiplication of Jesus’ miraculous feeding continues, in the ongoing acts of love his followers still perform. The only thing stopping it is our unwillingness to imitate Christ’s love, by what we do, or fail to do. Which left me with a question I’m passing onto you- Who have you fed lately?
Illuminated manuscript, indeed! And not a bad way to spend a half hour in prayer.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Thursday, January 20, 2011
Arrival…
Recently, I’ve thought lots about houses. Some good friends purchased their first home. Tabitha and I have been trying to scratch together for an eventual down payment. We’ve had multiple houseguests in recent days (i.e. lots of cleaning, re-cleaning, redecorating!). All this reminded me that, as much I look forward to owning a home some day, buying one is only the first step. There’s yard work, snow shoveling, selecting appliances and furniture. Insurance, property taxes, repairs. Not being a home owner, there’s surely much I’ve never considered! Getting a home, it seems, is like so many other things in life- once you ‘arrive,’ the work is just beginning.
Remember the story of the Israelites escaping Egypt? The Adult Sunday School talked about this recently, and as I heard about it, something struck me for the first time. Arriving in the Promised Land was not the end of the process.
A refresher for those who haven’t read Exodus in awhile. The ancient Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, for generations, the story goes. Eventually, God hears their cries, and empowers Moses to empower the people to achieve liberation. They then wandered forty years in the wilderness, always dreaming of a land God was preparing for them, aka The Promised Land. And one day, they arrived!
But the hard work, the Bible and archeology tell us, had only just begun. Two books in the Hebrew Bible- Joshua and Judges- give competing memories for what happened next. According to Joshua (generally speaking), the Israelites attacked city after city, massacring indigenous populations and confiscating the land, all at God’s behest. According to Judges, the process was more gradual- some success, much failure- and the escaped slaves joined with local tribes to form what eventually became the Israelite nation. Judges’ story, by the way, accords more with the archeological record, and our sense that God doesn’t condone genocide (Joshua’s valuable for other reasons). Nevertheless, the point is that inhabiting the Promised Land wasn’t easy or setback free. It was an ongoing struggle- internally and externally- to capitalize on a great opportunity, overcome limitations and foibles, and ultimately, to be as faithful to God’s best dreams for the future as possible.
It seems to me that Plymouth Creek, currently, has something in common with that story. If you weren’t at the potluck last Sunday, you should know that the Board presented a new vision for the future of Plymouth Creek. We’ve been working on this for over a year now. It’s begun affecting our worship life, planning and decision-making. And after long, prayerful discernment, and much congregational feedback, we felt the vision work was complete enough to share our efforts, and solicit everyone’s support and help.
I can’t describe fully the vision, its process and implications in this letter. We’ve got months of sharing, revising and imagining together to discover that. Simply, let me state the underlying idea we’ve discerned, and ask for your reaction. We believe it is the God-sized and inspired vision, for the future of Plymouth Creek, to become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the NW suburbs.
A beacon of Christian openness and service. Hopefully, that’s specific enough to generate ideas from everyone, and challenging enough to take the years of work and creativity that a God-inspired vision deserves. I.e. there will be time enough to flesh everything out. For now, it’s enough- for us all- to feel invigorated, like we’re not wandering in the wilderness, hoping only to survive. Rather, I pray we’re inspired to believe God’s given us new directions, fresh vision; that God’s glorious hopes for our intimate, hospitable, open and service-minded church will happen. And, thus, we’ll provide our neighbors the love, joy and compassion they so desperately need, more than we now believe possible.
As the ancient Israelites teach so profoundly, once you ‘arrive’, the work isn’t over. Still, arrival is wonderful, worth celebrating for a time. So I pray you feel, like me, there’s no other place I’d rather be learning to shine a beacon of openness and service than with Christians like you. It’s a good time to be a Plymouth Creeker, my friends. Thank you for that.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Remember the story of the Israelites escaping Egypt? The Adult Sunday School talked about this recently, and as I heard about it, something struck me for the first time. Arriving in the Promised Land was not the end of the process.
A refresher for those who haven’t read Exodus in awhile. The ancient Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, for generations, the story goes. Eventually, God hears their cries, and empowers Moses to empower the people to achieve liberation. They then wandered forty years in the wilderness, always dreaming of a land God was preparing for them, aka The Promised Land. And one day, they arrived!
But the hard work, the Bible and archeology tell us, had only just begun. Two books in the Hebrew Bible- Joshua and Judges- give competing memories for what happened next. According to Joshua (generally speaking), the Israelites attacked city after city, massacring indigenous populations and confiscating the land, all at God’s behest. According to Judges, the process was more gradual- some success, much failure- and the escaped slaves joined with local tribes to form what eventually became the Israelite nation. Judges’ story, by the way, accords more with the archeological record, and our sense that God doesn’t condone genocide (Joshua’s valuable for other reasons). Nevertheless, the point is that inhabiting the Promised Land wasn’t easy or setback free. It was an ongoing struggle- internally and externally- to capitalize on a great opportunity, overcome limitations and foibles, and ultimately, to be as faithful to God’s best dreams for the future as possible.
It seems to me that Plymouth Creek, currently, has something in common with that story. If you weren’t at the potluck last Sunday, you should know that the Board presented a new vision for the future of Plymouth Creek. We’ve been working on this for over a year now. It’s begun affecting our worship life, planning and decision-making. And after long, prayerful discernment, and much congregational feedback, we felt the vision work was complete enough to share our efforts, and solicit everyone’s support and help.
I can’t describe fully the vision, its process and implications in this letter. We’ve got months of sharing, revising and imagining together to discover that. Simply, let me state the underlying idea we’ve discerned, and ask for your reaction. We believe it is the God-sized and inspired vision, for the future of Plymouth Creek, to become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the NW suburbs.
A beacon of Christian openness and service. Hopefully, that’s specific enough to generate ideas from everyone, and challenging enough to take the years of work and creativity that a God-inspired vision deserves. I.e. there will be time enough to flesh everything out. For now, it’s enough- for us all- to feel invigorated, like we’re not wandering in the wilderness, hoping only to survive. Rather, I pray we’re inspired to believe God’s given us new directions, fresh vision; that God’s glorious hopes for our intimate, hospitable, open and service-minded church will happen. And, thus, we’ll provide our neighbors the love, joy and compassion they so desperately need, more than we now believe possible.
As the ancient Israelites teach so profoundly, once you ‘arrive’, the work isn’t over. Still, arrival is wonderful, worth celebrating for a time. So I pray you feel, like me, there’s no other place I’d rather be learning to shine a beacon of openness and service than with Christians like you. It’s a good time to be a Plymouth Creeker, my friends. Thank you for that.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Honoring God…
In last week’s letter, I began reflecting on the recent shooting of a Pakistani politician. I didn’t treat the topic fully. I simply tried identifying a core issue in the killing- why people defend God’s honor- and ended with, basically, to be continued…
Then, last Saturday, our country witnessed an almost-political assassination. By all reports, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona should not have survived it. But, thank God, brain surgeons have made incredible progress treating brain injury. So she may recover completely.
In light of that, I felt I couldn’t continue my original plan without mentioning Rep. Giffords. Indeed, while the two shooters’ motivations seem wildly different, I thought, maybe, a similarity exists. One analogous to horseracing.
Now I’m not trying to diminish these tragedies, so I hope this comparison is apt. Imagine being at the horse track, preparing to watch the races. In your program are funky horse names that mean nothing to you. Nevertheless, at the track, there’s pressure to place bets. Some have developed grand betting theories. But if you haven’t, nor have inside info into these equine athlete, you may not bet.
Until after the first race, that is, when the horses thunder down the homestretch and the whole grandstand stands up cheering. You think, “There’s no way everyone cares that much about a horse named Touboogie Woogie.” Then it hits you, “If I had three dollars riding on this, I’d be cheering just as loud…” So to increase your investment in the races, you bet occasionally, hope you win, but mostly enjoy screaming for your horse, while knowing that, ultimately, life goes on.
Again, the metaphor’s imperfect, but I think that’s how many approach politics. At some point, we put a stake in the ‘race.’ Indeed, we think we might even affect the outcome, so we vote, donate, volunteer, believing things will be better- for us and the common good- if our candidate/party/issue wins. But hopefully, we don’t expect the world to end when we lose.
Unfortunately, some overinvest in the race. Perhaps they think they know more than others about what will, or should, occur. So they bet massive amounts on their horses. And while the rest of us stand and cheer, only to move on when our bets falter, they sit anxiously in the stands, eyes fixed demonically on the track.
I think that’s similar to these situations. Two men, for different reasons, overinvested in the activities of government officials. For one, it seems religious leaders riled him up by mistaking blasphemy as a threat to God. As if God’s that weak and defenseless. But unlike other adherents of his faith, this guy bet his life, hoping it would pay off in the next, to change the race’s dynamics. I pray he and his clergy learn humility, and seek forgiveness. The Arizona shooter didn’t seem religious; maybe he was disturbed, dangerously lonely, or egomaniacal. Still, he too overinvested in the political race, and acted like the best way to make good on that investment was to end the race for others. Heartbreaking.
Many churches have difficulty talking faith and politics, and so don’t do it often, us included. But humor me to talk politics for a moment. I believe Christians should never put political beliefs before the life or dignity of another. Why? Because Jesus death revealed God’s unending love for everyone. I.e. The race that ultimately counts is the one whose outcome is certain; it’s the one Jesus died to fix.
Sometimes we forget that, that God not only values people of all ideologies (whether or not S/He agrees…), but also offers them compassion and grace. It’s not like we don’t believe it. We just sometimes overinvest in the race. Certainly not as badly as these men, but no one seems immune these days. So please, in light of these horrible events, let’s remember that whatever (insert your non-preferred politicians here) want for our state, country or world, God won’t ever stop offering them, or us, love and forgiveness, and will always be present with hope. And yes, the political race is still important. But to faithful Christians, it always takes second place to God’s love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Then, last Saturday, our country witnessed an almost-political assassination. By all reports, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona should not have survived it. But, thank God, brain surgeons have made incredible progress treating brain injury. So she may recover completely.
In light of that, I felt I couldn’t continue my original plan without mentioning Rep. Giffords. Indeed, while the two shooters’ motivations seem wildly different, I thought, maybe, a similarity exists. One analogous to horseracing.
Now I’m not trying to diminish these tragedies, so I hope this comparison is apt. Imagine being at the horse track, preparing to watch the races. In your program are funky horse names that mean nothing to you. Nevertheless, at the track, there’s pressure to place bets. Some have developed grand betting theories. But if you haven’t, nor have inside info into these equine athlete, you may not bet.
Until after the first race, that is, when the horses thunder down the homestretch and the whole grandstand stands up cheering. You think, “There’s no way everyone cares that much about a horse named Touboogie Woogie.” Then it hits you, “If I had three dollars riding on this, I’d be cheering just as loud…” So to increase your investment in the races, you bet occasionally, hope you win, but mostly enjoy screaming for your horse, while knowing that, ultimately, life goes on.
Again, the metaphor’s imperfect, but I think that’s how many approach politics. At some point, we put a stake in the ‘race.’ Indeed, we think we might even affect the outcome, so we vote, donate, volunteer, believing things will be better- for us and the common good- if our candidate/party/issue wins. But hopefully, we don’t expect the world to end when we lose.
Unfortunately, some overinvest in the race. Perhaps they think they know more than others about what will, or should, occur. So they bet massive amounts on their horses. And while the rest of us stand and cheer, only to move on when our bets falter, they sit anxiously in the stands, eyes fixed demonically on the track.
I think that’s similar to these situations. Two men, for different reasons, overinvested in the activities of government officials. For one, it seems religious leaders riled him up by mistaking blasphemy as a threat to God. As if God’s that weak and defenseless. But unlike other adherents of his faith, this guy bet his life, hoping it would pay off in the next, to change the race’s dynamics. I pray he and his clergy learn humility, and seek forgiveness. The Arizona shooter didn’t seem religious; maybe he was disturbed, dangerously lonely, or egomaniacal. Still, he too overinvested in the political race, and acted like the best way to make good on that investment was to end the race for others. Heartbreaking.
Many churches have difficulty talking faith and politics, and so don’t do it often, us included. But humor me to talk politics for a moment. I believe Christians should never put political beliefs before the life or dignity of another. Why? Because Jesus death revealed God’s unending love for everyone. I.e. The race that ultimately counts is the one whose outcome is certain; it’s the one Jesus died to fix.
Sometimes we forget that, that God not only values people of all ideologies (whether or not S/He agrees…), but also offers them compassion and grace. It’s not like we don’t believe it. We just sometimes overinvest in the race. Certainly not as badly as these men, but no one seems immune these days. So please, in light of these horrible events, let’s remember that whatever (insert your non-preferred politicians here) want for our state, country or world, God won’t ever stop offering them, or us, love and forgiveness, and will always be present with hope. And yes, the political race is still important. But to faithful Christians, it always takes second place to God’s love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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