Ever have a conversation that, over time, grows in importance? I had one during a Bible study in college, when a guy who was only visiting took issue with something I said. I don’t recall the exact topic, but soon enough we got meta, no longer discussing a particular Biblical story, but The Whole Holy Bible.
FYI, it wasn’t an angry brawl; more a passionate exchange of ideas. Specifically, I argued the classic Evangelical Protestant belief- that the Bible is perfect and infallible, inerrant in every respect. He, by contrast, had a more open, nuanced view; acknowledged the decidedly human elements in Scripture’s creation; claimed that, to really take the Bible seriously, we must accept, even honor those ‘flaws’. And to drive his point home, he said that thing I’ve yet to forget. “Shane, think of the Bible as a love story about us and God, written over many years, by many people, with all their limitations and successes, contradictions and insights. It’s not perfect, and not alone, but it’s the greatest love story I know.”
I (for once) had nothing to say. I stammered something, but mostly just soaked in that beautiful description. I went home eventually, thinking I’d had an enjoyable night. But I woke up only gradually to how profoundly it had shifted my spiritual center.
You see, what I’d previously articulated is what some call “Bible Idolatry.” This idea’s that, in doggedly confessing that Scripture’s perfect, some Christians put (their interpretation of) the Bible above God. Not intentionally! I believe most Christians try to be faithful, just as best we know how. But the truth of God is always greater than our understanding of God’s truth. So to act like any book’s as perfect as God (even one as rich as the Bible) sounds akin to creating an idol.
But that’s how I once believed. I didn’t claim to know Scripture perfectly. No way! Nevertheless, I basically believed that if I or anyone did totally understand the Bible, I/they/we’d have God fully figured out. The Bible was that perfect, I thought. Thus, I’d created an idol. And this Bible study visitor pointed that out. Fortunately, he was a good Christian. He didn’t gloat or mock me, didn’t dismiss my faithfulness, though he saw through my spiritual mistake. Instead, he helped me see another way of being faithful, of relishing the love story that is Scripture.
Among the very few Bible claims I do consider literal, eternal truth is 1 John’s simple statement that “God is love.” I also confess that God, evolutionarily, ‘created’ humanity, with our limitations and possibilities and never stopped loving us. Therefore the Bible, I now believe, is a record of how Love’s been received, rejected, interpreted and praised by various historical communities over vast swaths of time. It’s not the only record of Love’s interaction with the beloved, certainly. God is always greater! But what an incredible story, amen?! Told by some remarkably creative people.
And why I keep returning to it, time and again, is that this Great Love Story is the one that’s most formed the religious communities that have formed me. In other words, to use a Biblical phrase, it’s my “goody heritage.” Undoubtedly, some stories within the Greater Story speak more clearly to me about Love than others. Indeed, some ways previous generations described Love, I no longer accept. Yet because I’ve learned Love through Scripture’s pages, been challenged by it to spread love more fully and farther, I still trust the Bible as my surest entryway into Love’s abode.
And I’m grateful for that years-ago conversation that helped me understand this story more clearly. More fully. More lovingly.
P.S. - This week’s spiritual practice: Story Meditation. Read a favorite Bible story. Read it again! Then pick an object or character and picture what that person/thing looks like. Imagine smells, clothing, dialogue, expressions, as you walk through the story again in your mind. I.e. fill in the text’s missing details. Most importantly, trust that the Spirit guides your imaginative work. Thus, in noticing what extra details you imagine, you can accept that as God helping you better interpret the story’s many meanings.
Read more!
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Bogged down…
For reasons that transcend my minuscule homeowner experience, my home’s AC doesn’t stand up well to 90 degree heat. Perhaps I need to get it serviced. Pray to God it doesn’t need replacement! Whatever the case, though, last week’s heat wave wasn’t particularly enjoyable.
I mean, mornings were mostly alright. Evenings had reduced external pressures on the system. But as days progressed and the sun would rise, so would my living room thermostat. It never hit the outside temps of 95, thank the Lord. But 85-88 were regular readings, and try though I might, I couldn’t get it back down.
Thus, evenings were spent sweltering in sticky shirts, torso and toes marinating in self-produced saltwater. And I remembered, then, what a strange phenomenon heat can be, particularly when forced to abide warmth without much escape. You start by noticing a tingling on the skin; sweat glands kicking in to produce epidermal evaporation. Then, not long after, you get real, real frustrated. Like OMJesus, I can’t stand this blasted heat! But strangely, a next phase occurs, once your shirt has soaked trough: suddenly you stop noticing the heat as often or as much. A kind of acceptance sets in, which makes the temperature more bearable. And unless forced into activity, you can take that for awhile before worrying about heatstroke. In other words, you bog down, a kind of bodily defense. For, once bogged down, heat’s less of a problem.
But really, who wants to live in a bogged down state of being? It’s better than constantly feeling terrible, but that’s about all that can be celebrated. You think more slowly, move less often, desire fewer interactions with others. Rather than full speed ahead, life proceeds at 75%. Yet it’s not only those of us battling our AC that deal with bogged down living. Spiritually speaking, I bet many people have that experience.
For example, has a moment of prayer or worship ever moved you profoundly? Maybe you wept, shouted hallelujah, smiled wider than seemed possible… But does that happen during every prayer, after every Sunday morning? Me neither, and that’s fine. We ought be realistic. It’s virtually impossible for most people to live in a constant state of spiritual electrification.
Still, I’d like to hope that most of us are open to receiving it, to seeking it. Except I’ve learned that the longer we go between moments of deep spiritual connection with God or others, the more we begin feeling, well, bogged down. Perhaps at first, we felt the lack of spiritual exuberance keenly, uncomfortably. But over time, it grew less painful, began to seem normal. And maybe we forgot that more engaged spirituality is possible. Maybe we even began to mock others who strived for such holy enthusiasm.
That’s why, this summer, I’m focusing on “Spiritual Growth”. To remind ourselves that spiritual energy is a renewable resource, if we work at it. The great gurus across the ages acknowledge something I find liberating- that though there’s one destination, there are many diverse ways to encounter authentic divinity. Perhaps meditation works for you. Perhaps singing works for me. Or a sermon, or daily prayer, or sweat-inducing exercises like yoga. The point is we shouldn’t simply content ourselves with going through the motions. We can, even should, expect God to electrify our souls! To occasionally cast over our spirits some heavenly AC. After all, God’s not up in heaven, apathetically watching the world like bad TV. In Jesus, God got involved, reached out to energize and empower us. I pray, then, you say this week, “Alright God, I’m ready. No more bogging down for me!” It may surprise you how cool and wonderful you’ll feel.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S. - This week’s spiritual practice is borrowed from Eastern spirituality- Mantra. Mantra is meditation focused on one word or phrase. If you’ve never done it, try this: Slowly repeat Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God,” for about ten minutes. Let that idea fill your spirit as you breathe deep, expecting God to reach out to you in return. At the end, say, “Amen,” stand and up go about your day, hopefully refreshed by God’s presence within.
Read more!
I mean, mornings were mostly alright. Evenings had reduced external pressures on the system. But as days progressed and the sun would rise, so would my living room thermostat. It never hit the outside temps of 95, thank the Lord. But 85-88 were regular readings, and try though I might, I couldn’t get it back down.
Thus, evenings were spent sweltering in sticky shirts, torso and toes marinating in self-produced saltwater. And I remembered, then, what a strange phenomenon heat can be, particularly when forced to abide warmth without much escape. You start by noticing a tingling on the skin; sweat glands kicking in to produce epidermal evaporation. Then, not long after, you get real, real frustrated. Like OMJesus, I can’t stand this blasted heat! But strangely, a next phase occurs, once your shirt has soaked trough: suddenly you stop noticing the heat as often or as much. A kind of acceptance sets in, which makes the temperature more bearable. And unless forced into activity, you can take that for awhile before worrying about heatstroke. In other words, you bog down, a kind of bodily defense. For, once bogged down, heat’s less of a problem.
But really, who wants to live in a bogged down state of being? It’s better than constantly feeling terrible, but that’s about all that can be celebrated. You think more slowly, move less often, desire fewer interactions with others. Rather than full speed ahead, life proceeds at 75%. Yet it’s not only those of us battling our AC that deal with bogged down living. Spiritually speaking, I bet many people have that experience.
For example, has a moment of prayer or worship ever moved you profoundly? Maybe you wept, shouted hallelujah, smiled wider than seemed possible… But does that happen during every prayer, after every Sunday morning? Me neither, and that’s fine. We ought be realistic. It’s virtually impossible for most people to live in a constant state of spiritual electrification.
Still, I’d like to hope that most of us are open to receiving it, to seeking it. Except I’ve learned that the longer we go between moments of deep spiritual connection with God or others, the more we begin feeling, well, bogged down. Perhaps at first, we felt the lack of spiritual exuberance keenly, uncomfortably. But over time, it grew less painful, began to seem normal. And maybe we forgot that more engaged spirituality is possible. Maybe we even began to mock others who strived for such holy enthusiasm.
That’s why, this summer, I’m focusing on “Spiritual Growth”. To remind ourselves that spiritual energy is a renewable resource, if we work at it. The great gurus across the ages acknowledge something I find liberating- that though there’s one destination, there are many diverse ways to encounter authentic divinity. Perhaps meditation works for you. Perhaps singing works for me. Or a sermon, or daily prayer, or sweat-inducing exercises like yoga. The point is we shouldn’t simply content ourselves with going through the motions. We can, even should, expect God to electrify our souls! To occasionally cast over our spirits some heavenly AC. After all, God’s not up in heaven, apathetically watching the world like bad TV. In Jesus, God got involved, reached out to energize and empower us. I pray, then, you say this week, “Alright God, I’m ready. No more bogging down for me!” It may surprise you how cool and wonderful you’ll feel.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S. - This week’s spiritual practice is borrowed from Eastern spirituality- Mantra. Mantra is meditation focused on one word or phrase. If you’ve never done it, try this: Slowly repeat Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God,” for about ten minutes. Let that idea fill your spirit as you breathe deep, expecting God to reach out to you in return. At the end, say, “Amen,” stand and up go about your day, hopefully refreshed by God’s presence within.
Read more!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Divine words…
In his masterwork Thus Spake Zarathustra, philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche penned the following observation. “God is dead,” he said, and there followed hysterics by many. Faithful folk shouted, “God isn’t dead. But you’re going to Hell!!” Atheists retorted, “Who’s going to send him? God’s dead! Weren’t you listening?” I imagine God said, “Calm down. Hear the man out.” Because just after those famous words, Nietzsche wrote, “And we’ve killed Him.”
Which may seem strange. But I think he’s onto something. The point was that in light of the scientific revolution, evolutionary understanding, historical criticism of the Bible, etc., much of what many once meant by the word, “God,” no longer seemed valid. The roles “God” had played in our religious imagination, God needed to no longer. And, thus, in essence, we killed God.
Of course, many then argued, as would I, that the word “God” is broader than what Nietzsche meant. But it’s fair to say that “God” should mean more to us than a divine puppet master pulling the strings. Indeed, I might push the argument further, and suggest “we” didn’t kill God. It’s maybe more the case that “democracy” did it.
Bear with me. And recall that one of the primary metaphors used in ancient days to describe God was that of a ruling monarch, King, Lord. Doesn’t our church ask everyone who joins, “Do you believe Jesus is Lord?” We do, and that’s our only requirement. But recently, someone asked me, “Do you believe that, Shane?” I said, “Yes. Do you?” The person said, “No… It sounds weirdly feudal, Medieval.” And, to my surprise, I agreed! After all, in everyday life, the word Lord matters zip to me. It’s like an archaic, pompous title used by English aristocrats who I mock. Yet here I claim it’s the appropriate description of Jesus, of God?!
Do my metaphors for God need a reboot? I mean, as a loyal democratic citizen, I’m no fan of royalty. I’m glad ordinary people in our society hold the reins of government. I believe people have the right, the responsibility to define how they’ll live together in community. Thus, the notion that one royal person would have power of life or death over all makes me shudder. Whether an election goes my preferred way, I’m proud of our still-perfecting, democratic union.
So down with Kings! And that even goes for God. I think it’d be terrible for my soul’s development, after all, if I abdicated all personal responsibility to God. If I acted like I was so insignificant I should have no input in my future, so worthless that decisions should be made only by “mi-Lord.” Indeed, I believe Jesus’ resurrection revealed to us the unconquerable faith God has in us! In our creative abilities, our capacity for justice and goodness. So rather than have us cede all control to His Lordship through some self-defaming act of homage, God would prefer we shared God’s hope and delight in the world, in ourselves, right?
That’s why I wonder if democracy “killed God.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer once suggested that “the world has come of age,” maybe meaning that modern folk have greater self-confidence and power than ever before, and so are less willing to be ruled by self-styled “Lords.” If so, does that make the notion of “Jesus as Lord” obsolete? I mean, the world still needs good Leadership. Desperately! We may be more knowledgeable than our forbearers, but are we more moral? More spiritually enlightened? In other words, it’s probably good to “kill” (or “retire”) no-longer useful metaphors for God. Like King. Maybe even Lord. But I believe we’d be in a world of hurt if we ignored God entirely. So…what to say?
I know for some the language “Lord of my life” is a favorite description of Jesus, thinking “Lord of all” rather hostile and overdone. I like that, but wonder if we could do better. Jesus is my Leader? Guide? Guru? CEO? (Just kidding…) For now, I’ll leave the question open; please respond!
When it comes to you life’s core conviction, how would you complete the phrase, “Jesus is…”?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S. - This week’s “Spiritual Practice” is the Prayer Walk. It’s exactly what it says; take a walk. By yourself, but not alone. Invite God to walk beside you and silently share your observations, reflections, worries, dreams. In so doing, you’ll have a “Full-bodied” spiritual experience.
Read more!
Which may seem strange. But I think he’s onto something. The point was that in light of the scientific revolution, evolutionary understanding, historical criticism of the Bible, etc., much of what many once meant by the word, “God,” no longer seemed valid. The roles “God” had played in our religious imagination, God needed to no longer. And, thus, in essence, we killed God.
Of course, many then argued, as would I, that the word “God” is broader than what Nietzsche meant. But it’s fair to say that “God” should mean more to us than a divine puppet master pulling the strings. Indeed, I might push the argument further, and suggest “we” didn’t kill God. It’s maybe more the case that “democracy” did it.
Bear with me. And recall that one of the primary metaphors used in ancient days to describe God was that of a ruling monarch, King, Lord. Doesn’t our church ask everyone who joins, “Do you believe Jesus is Lord?” We do, and that’s our only requirement. But recently, someone asked me, “Do you believe that, Shane?” I said, “Yes. Do you?” The person said, “No… It sounds weirdly feudal, Medieval.” And, to my surprise, I agreed! After all, in everyday life, the word Lord matters zip to me. It’s like an archaic, pompous title used by English aristocrats who I mock. Yet here I claim it’s the appropriate description of Jesus, of God?!
Do my metaphors for God need a reboot? I mean, as a loyal democratic citizen, I’m no fan of royalty. I’m glad ordinary people in our society hold the reins of government. I believe people have the right, the responsibility to define how they’ll live together in community. Thus, the notion that one royal person would have power of life or death over all makes me shudder. Whether an election goes my preferred way, I’m proud of our still-perfecting, democratic union.
So down with Kings! And that even goes for God. I think it’d be terrible for my soul’s development, after all, if I abdicated all personal responsibility to God. If I acted like I was so insignificant I should have no input in my future, so worthless that decisions should be made only by “mi-Lord.” Indeed, I believe Jesus’ resurrection revealed to us the unconquerable faith God has in us! In our creative abilities, our capacity for justice and goodness. So rather than have us cede all control to His Lordship through some self-defaming act of homage, God would prefer we shared God’s hope and delight in the world, in ourselves, right?
That’s why I wonder if democracy “killed God.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer once suggested that “the world has come of age,” maybe meaning that modern folk have greater self-confidence and power than ever before, and so are less willing to be ruled by self-styled “Lords.” If so, does that make the notion of “Jesus as Lord” obsolete? I mean, the world still needs good Leadership. Desperately! We may be more knowledgeable than our forbearers, but are we more moral? More spiritually enlightened? In other words, it’s probably good to “kill” (or “retire”) no-longer useful metaphors for God. Like King. Maybe even Lord. But I believe we’d be in a world of hurt if we ignored God entirely. So…what to say?
I know for some the language “Lord of my life” is a favorite description of Jesus, thinking “Lord of all” rather hostile and overdone. I like that, but wonder if we could do better. Jesus is my Leader? Guide? Guru? CEO? (Just kidding…) For now, I’ll leave the question open; please respond!
When it comes to you life’s core conviction, how would you complete the phrase, “Jesus is…”?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S. - This week’s “Spiritual Practice” is the Prayer Walk. It’s exactly what it says; take a walk. By yourself, but not alone. Invite God to walk beside you and silently share your observations, reflections, worries, dreams. In so doing, you’ll have a “Full-bodied” spiritual experience.
Read more!
Sunday, July 1, 2012
New seasons…
The Ancients weren’t entirely wrong about scheduling the “new year” to coincide with winter. January 1st occurs just after the Winter Solstice, of course, so I suspect that turn of the calendar reflected the rhythms of earth’s renewal. After the slow slog toward days of diminished sunshine, on December 21 the sun decides to stick around longer. During the 3rd century CE, Romans designated a few days later- December 25- the feast of Sol Invictus, after a god whose name means “The Unconquered Sun.” When Christians grabbed power, they said, “Let’s dub that Christmas!” And eventually, they chose soon after to declare, “A New Year has begun!”
Which made ecological sense I guess, considering that’s when winter changes. But we Minnesotans realize there’s little difference between the length of days in January and December. Sure, we know it’s getting brighter, that darkness is receding. Still, it feels depressing when night endures so long, whatever the calendar claims, removing some potential joy from New Year’s celebrations.
What if, instead, they’d let Christmas/Sol Invictus/Winter Solstice keep winter to themselves, and decided to start new years mid-summer instead? Work productivity would already be down, given beach vacation schedules. More celebratory possibilities would arise, involving smokers and grills. Oh, that the Ancients were more strategic! Next time I speak with one, I’ll share our frustration.
We Plymouth Creekers, though, got it right, right? We began our church’s “new year” June 1, as always. Sure, the advent of a new budget cycle didn’t include Auld Lang Syne or midnight smooching (as least, not that I know of). Nevertheless, a new season has begun, friends! A new year, even!
So what shall this year bring, do you imagine? What kind of ministry, opportunity, mission, praise and purpose do you expect the Lord to bring our way before June 2013 rolls around?
Honestly, I can’t say! God’s yet to post The Plan on Facebook. But I’m wondering if my yard can give us something to work with. Before we went on vacation last month, we needed to mow the lawn. Particularly certain sections we’d planted with seeds in April, watered obsessively in May and consciously avoided mowing during those months. Wanted to give the seeds enough time in the sun, you know? Thus, when we returned, Wow, growth had happened! And not just the nice, long, verdant blades of green grass kind, but also places of invidious infiltration by dandelions and friends. A simple mow job was now inappropriate. It was necessary, but so too was more targeted work. So, as my calloused and raw hands will attest, Tabitha and I dug in. We snipped and pulled, pushed and pulled, and hours later, our lawn looked much more presentable. There’s still work to do, of course, Always!, but progress is made, growth achieved. We can play lawn games now without jungle machetes.
I wonder if, perhaps, Plymouth Creek might experience something of that kind. Over the past year and a half, we’ve been working the vision of becoming a beacon of openness and service for the NW suburbs. Community garden, bus ministry, increased attendance and commitment to outreach. In other words, we’ve encouraged much more light to come in! And as my lawn can attest, light can equal growth. Mostly of the good kind, sometimes of the concerning kind. But something just happens, doesn’t it, when you say to God, “Shine your rays, brighten our days!”
I think, then, the challenge of this new year might be- a) Keeping our lives and spirits open God’s light. It’s not enough, in other words, to say, “We’re ready, Lord!” Rather, we’ve got to keep searching for new insights, worship styles, opportunities, places of shade. Then, b) Paying attention to new flowers and festering weeds. Always ready to respond when something new pops up that’s either lovely or concerning. Gloves at the ready for some spiritual landscaping.
Fortunately, I believe our vision is both God-sized and God-inspired, and further, that the Lord’s called the right people to this place. Thus, whatever the new year holds, I expect it’ll brightened by grace. Preparing us, therefore, to go out and shine!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Which made ecological sense I guess, considering that’s when winter changes. But we Minnesotans realize there’s little difference between the length of days in January and December. Sure, we know it’s getting brighter, that darkness is receding. Still, it feels depressing when night endures so long, whatever the calendar claims, removing some potential joy from New Year’s celebrations.
What if, instead, they’d let Christmas/Sol Invictus/Winter Solstice keep winter to themselves, and decided to start new years mid-summer instead? Work productivity would already be down, given beach vacation schedules. More celebratory possibilities would arise, involving smokers and grills. Oh, that the Ancients were more strategic! Next time I speak with one, I’ll share our frustration.
We Plymouth Creekers, though, got it right, right? We began our church’s “new year” June 1, as always. Sure, the advent of a new budget cycle didn’t include Auld Lang Syne or midnight smooching (as least, not that I know of). Nevertheless, a new season has begun, friends! A new year, even!
So what shall this year bring, do you imagine? What kind of ministry, opportunity, mission, praise and purpose do you expect the Lord to bring our way before June 2013 rolls around?
Honestly, I can’t say! God’s yet to post The Plan on Facebook. But I’m wondering if my yard can give us something to work with. Before we went on vacation last month, we needed to mow the lawn. Particularly certain sections we’d planted with seeds in April, watered obsessively in May and consciously avoided mowing during those months. Wanted to give the seeds enough time in the sun, you know? Thus, when we returned, Wow, growth had happened! And not just the nice, long, verdant blades of green grass kind, but also places of invidious infiltration by dandelions and friends. A simple mow job was now inappropriate. It was necessary, but so too was more targeted work. So, as my calloused and raw hands will attest, Tabitha and I dug in. We snipped and pulled, pushed and pulled, and hours later, our lawn looked much more presentable. There’s still work to do, of course, Always!, but progress is made, growth achieved. We can play lawn games now without jungle machetes.
I wonder if, perhaps, Plymouth Creek might experience something of that kind. Over the past year and a half, we’ve been working the vision of becoming a beacon of openness and service for the NW suburbs. Community garden, bus ministry, increased attendance and commitment to outreach. In other words, we’ve encouraged much more light to come in! And as my lawn can attest, light can equal growth. Mostly of the good kind, sometimes of the concerning kind. But something just happens, doesn’t it, when you say to God, “Shine your rays, brighten our days!”
I think, then, the challenge of this new year might be- a) Keeping our lives and spirits open God’s light. It’s not enough, in other words, to say, “We’re ready, Lord!” Rather, we’ve got to keep searching for new insights, worship styles, opportunities, places of shade. Then, b) Paying attention to new flowers and festering weeds. Always ready to respond when something new pops up that’s either lovely or concerning. Gloves at the ready for some spiritual landscaping.
Fortunately, I believe our vision is both God-sized and God-inspired, and further, that the Lord’s called the right people to this place. Thus, whatever the new year holds, I expect it’ll brightened by grace. Preparing us, therefore, to go out and shine!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Coming into focus…
The upcoming July Fourth holiday got me remembering an old seminary debate. On multiple occasions, we argued for and/or against the following proposal: It’s okay for Christians to celebrate secular holidays in church. By ‘celebrate’, I mean sing certain songs, create special liturgies, preach holiday sermons. And unsurprisingly, the most passionate topics in this debate- pro and con- were national/military holidays like Independence Day.
Full disclosure: I’m mostly not in favor of celebrating secular holidays at church, be that Flag, Father’s or Leif Ericson Day (though maybe we’ll let the latter slip, being my birthday…). Nevertheless, I’m not terribly dogmatic about this position. I realize many Christians derive important meaning and joy from these holidays. It’s just I think Christian holidays matter more to our collective spiritual life as church, and don’t want other events stealing thunder or crowding the calendar.
Which doesn’t need to happen, right? We’re capable of honoring mothers, planting trees, singing patriotic songs, all while lifting Easter above all else and going wild for the resurrection. We do have the spiritual capacity, thank God, to keep our priorities and allegiances in line. The problem is, I feel, we simply don’t do it.
And by “we”, I mean most Americans, probably most humans! We’re impressively good at putting second/third things first. I presume that’s why national/military holiday debates spark such intensity. We claim our first allegiance should always be God; “Love the Lord with all your heart, mind…” Etc. But what comes second? What’s almost as important to our identities, our sense of pride and purpose? For many people, it’s the nation, right? Well, perhaps our family wins out. Maybe our state or regional identity? Our love for the Denver Broncos? Hopefully not! The point is that holidays commemorate really important stuff; memories or ideas that live deep in our souls, that symbolize what matters to us most, what we live for, what some have died for. And with so much at stake, I feel we ought be extra careful about confusing or abusing our ideal pecking order.
But look at the Walgreen’s holiday aisle. Every month, a new display’s displayed, with more we can purchase- On Sale!- as if celebrating = spending money. Doesn’t that cheapen what should be sacrosanct? How often have we worried about Christmas being overly commercialized? Yet a similar dynamic occurs every July 4 and Mother’s Day, prostrating these observances equally before the almighty dollar. At the very least, given the magnitude of feeling and marketing that’s poured into major holidays (sorry Leif), too frequently Nation becomes equivalent to God, Martin Luther King Jr. to Jesus, political liberty to forgiveness, civil rights to reconciliation. And while these people/values/events are worth embracing, focusing on, in the end some matter most. At least, some should.
That’s why I’d prefer we not sing secular, patriotic songs in church, as if they’re equivalent to hymns. Or put a flag up front. Or lift Mother’s Day above Pentecost. Too many holiday forces beyond our sanctuary encourage us to confuse our allegiances, forget our first love, and I don’t want worship taken hostage to this or that political agenda or advertising ploy. Which doesn’t mean we should never mention non-Christian holidays in church; they do matter, after all, to many! It’s just we should always strive to keep our ultimate focus on the One we proclaim is both Alpha and Omega, First and Last.
Speaking of which, here’s this week’s spiritual growth practice: Image meditation. Choose an image that matters to you spiritually- Table, Cave, Chalice, Garden- and for fifteen minutes, close your eyes, breath deeply, while picturing only that image. As other thoughts intrude, simply acknowledge them and set them aside. When the image fades, that’s alright, just bring it back. Remembering you’re always in God’s presence, focus on this image. And after 5-10 minutes, ask God, “What do you want from me?” You needn’t answer that question; just asking it while focused on this spiritually significant symbol is enough. Enough, perhaps, to calm you spirit or bring you insight, but certainly to remind you what ultimately matters most. And, therefore, empower you to keep that priority in focus.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Full disclosure: I’m mostly not in favor of celebrating secular holidays at church, be that Flag, Father’s or Leif Ericson Day (though maybe we’ll let the latter slip, being my birthday…). Nevertheless, I’m not terribly dogmatic about this position. I realize many Christians derive important meaning and joy from these holidays. It’s just I think Christian holidays matter more to our collective spiritual life as church, and don’t want other events stealing thunder or crowding the calendar.
Which doesn’t need to happen, right? We’re capable of honoring mothers, planting trees, singing patriotic songs, all while lifting Easter above all else and going wild for the resurrection. We do have the spiritual capacity, thank God, to keep our priorities and allegiances in line. The problem is, I feel, we simply don’t do it.
And by “we”, I mean most Americans, probably most humans! We’re impressively good at putting second/third things first. I presume that’s why national/military holiday debates spark such intensity. We claim our first allegiance should always be God; “Love the Lord with all your heart, mind…” Etc. But what comes second? What’s almost as important to our identities, our sense of pride and purpose? For many people, it’s the nation, right? Well, perhaps our family wins out. Maybe our state or regional identity? Our love for the Denver Broncos? Hopefully not! The point is that holidays commemorate really important stuff; memories or ideas that live deep in our souls, that symbolize what matters to us most, what we live for, what some have died for. And with so much at stake, I feel we ought be extra careful about confusing or abusing our ideal pecking order.
But look at the Walgreen’s holiday aisle. Every month, a new display’s displayed, with more we can purchase- On Sale!- as if celebrating = spending money. Doesn’t that cheapen what should be sacrosanct? How often have we worried about Christmas being overly commercialized? Yet a similar dynamic occurs every July 4 and Mother’s Day, prostrating these observances equally before the almighty dollar. At the very least, given the magnitude of feeling and marketing that’s poured into major holidays (sorry Leif), too frequently Nation becomes equivalent to God, Martin Luther King Jr. to Jesus, political liberty to forgiveness, civil rights to reconciliation. And while these people/values/events are worth embracing, focusing on, in the end some matter most. At least, some should.
That’s why I’d prefer we not sing secular, patriotic songs in church, as if they’re equivalent to hymns. Or put a flag up front. Or lift Mother’s Day above Pentecost. Too many holiday forces beyond our sanctuary encourage us to confuse our allegiances, forget our first love, and I don’t want worship taken hostage to this or that political agenda or advertising ploy. Which doesn’t mean we should never mention non-Christian holidays in church; they do matter, after all, to many! It’s just we should always strive to keep our ultimate focus on the One we proclaim is both Alpha and Omega, First and Last.
Speaking of which, here’s this week’s spiritual growth practice: Image meditation. Choose an image that matters to you spiritually- Table, Cave, Chalice, Garden- and for fifteen minutes, close your eyes, breath deeply, while picturing only that image. As other thoughts intrude, simply acknowledge them and set them aside. When the image fades, that’s alright, just bring it back. Remembering you’re always in God’s presence, focus on this image. And after 5-10 minutes, ask God, “What do you want from me?” You needn’t answer that question; just asking it while focused on this spiritually significant symbol is enough. Enough, perhaps, to calm you spirit or bring you insight, but certainly to remind you what ultimately matters most. And, therefore, empower you to keep that priority in focus.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Compassion Fatigue…
A father told me recently about taking his baby to the emergency room. Nothing was urgent; she just had a slight fever. Still, he was anxious, and it took awhile for the nurses to arrive. And when they did, it seems the man’s patience had eroded. He confessed, “I was testy. I doubt the nurses liked me much!” Worry has a way of encouraging our dark sides.
Afterwards, though, he admitted regret, and said he was impressed that the nurses weren’t as short as he was. After all, he surmised, caring for people is tiring. That most nurses (or social workers, or doctors, or…) don’t snap at others more often says something about their endurance, the stamina of their hearts. Because compassion fatigue is real, he claimed, our capacity for empathy is limited. Like gas in a gas tank, our hearts can deplete. Ever have another ask you for money at the end of a long day? Did you respond rather cranky? Me too…
Although, unlike a gas tank- more like a muscle, I suspect- we also have the option to get better at empathy. Ever begin lifting weights or going on runs after a months/years long break? What happened the next day? You wailed and moaned with muscle cramps! But if you pushed through and stuck to it, kept lifting or running, over days, weeks, months, the pain diminished, right? You could lift more or run longer; it took less time for your body to recover. Like that, I believe, our hearts care for others. Perhaps the first time you volunteer at the foodshelf or listen to the heartrending story of a neighbor’s loss, you feel overwhelmed, uncomfortable, unsure if you want to continue. But the more you do it, the more intentionally you love and serve and care, the more I find you’re able to abide the discomfort, keep your eyes from closing, to share your compassion and empathy with another in need.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a 20th century German pastor and theologian who I wrote about last week, spent years in a Nazi jail awaiting trial for conspiring against Hitler’s life. And something about his story I find deeply moving- and instructive- is that during his jail time, people noticed his contentment. Apparently, the man constantly ministered to others in prison; preached for fellow prisoners, led their funeral services, visited the sick, said prayers during Allied bombing raids. Cell mates commented after he was executed that he was constantly upbeat and joyful, even though his own case remained unsettled, even though his own outlook was dire. Sure, he got tired, prayed in anguish and fear at times. But more often, he overcame his compassion fatigue by helping others ride out the storm. He had trained his heart and soul, apparently, to persevere in trying times.
People talk of many different ways to build such fortitude and character, and there probably are a lot. But one tried and trustworthy technique I trust is just going out and doing it. Seeing something that requires compassion and commitment, empathy and action, and deciding to do something to help, though it’ll take work and effort and heartache. This summer, we’re exploring ‘spiritual growth’ techniques; learning from “spiritual master gardeners” about how they grew so wise and profound. This week, I want to encourage you to try Bonhoeffer’s method. Rather than pray more or read the Bible more or spend an hour in meditation, find something that frustrates you about the world, and do something to make a difference. Is it political polarization? Write your representatives a letter, describing your hope that they’ll work more closely with their opponents ‘across the aisles.’ Is it poverty in the suburbs? Call IOCP, and schedule an afternoon to work in the foodshelf. Perhaps it’s bullying in school, war in Syria or antibiotic abuse in meat production. But whatever worries your soul, don’t just complain or despair this week. Exercise your compassion muscles and act somehow to make a change. Trust me- or Bonhoeffer- it’ll do your soul good. You may even grow closer to that fount of every blessing, the God we worship, whose name is Love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Afterwards, though, he admitted regret, and said he was impressed that the nurses weren’t as short as he was. After all, he surmised, caring for people is tiring. That most nurses (or social workers, or doctors, or…) don’t snap at others more often says something about their endurance, the stamina of their hearts. Because compassion fatigue is real, he claimed, our capacity for empathy is limited. Like gas in a gas tank, our hearts can deplete. Ever have another ask you for money at the end of a long day? Did you respond rather cranky? Me too…
Although, unlike a gas tank- more like a muscle, I suspect- we also have the option to get better at empathy. Ever begin lifting weights or going on runs after a months/years long break? What happened the next day? You wailed and moaned with muscle cramps! But if you pushed through and stuck to it, kept lifting or running, over days, weeks, months, the pain diminished, right? You could lift more or run longer; it took less time for your body to recover. Like that, I believe, our hearts care for others. Perhaps the first time you volunteer at the foodshelf or listen to the heartrending story of a neighbor’s loss, you feel overwhelmed, uncomfortable, unsure if you want to continue. But the more you do it, the more intentionally you love and serve and care, the more I find you’re able to abide the discomfort, keep your eyes from closing, to share your compassion and empathy with another in need.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a 20th century German pastor and theologian who I wrote about last week, spent years in a Nazi jail awaiting trial for conspiring against Hitler’s life. And something about his story I find deeply moving- and instructive- is that during his jail time, people noticed his contentment. Apparently, the man constantly ministered to others in prison; preached for fellow prisoners, led their funeral services, visited the sick, said prayers during Allied bombing raids. Cell mates commented after he was executed that he was constantly upbeat and joyful, even though his own case remained unsettled, even though his own outlook was dire. Sure, he got tired, prayed in anguish and fear at times. But more often, he overcame his compassion fatigue by helping others ride out the storm. He had trained his heart and soul, apparently, to persevere in trying times.
People talk of many different ways to build such fortitude and character, and there probably are a lot. But one tried and trustworthy technique I trust is just going out and doing it. Seeing something that requires compassion and commitment, empathy and action, and deciding to do something to help, though it’ll take work and effort and heartache. This summer, we’re exploring ‘spiritual growth’ techniques; learning from “spiritual master gardeners” about how they grew so wise and profound. This week, I want to encourage you to try Bonhoeffer’s method. Rather than pray more or read the Bible more or spend an hour in meditation, find something that frustrates you about the world, and do something to make a difference. Is it political polarization? Write your representatives a letter, describing your hope that they’ll work more closely with their opponents ‘across the aisles.’ Is it poverty in the suburbs? Call IOCP, and schedule an afternoon to work in the foodshelf. Perhaps it’s bullying in school, war in Syria or antibiotic abuse in meat production. But whatever worries your soul, don’t just complain or despair this week. Exercise your compassion muscles and act somehow to make a change. Trust me- or Bonhoeffer- it’ll do your soul good. You may even grow closer to that fount of every blessing, the God we worship, whose name is Love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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