Soccer fans, the world over, love to sing. In pubs after games. In, well, pubs before games. And during games especially, at the stadiums, loudly. Fans create lyrics to popular ditties that celebrate their favored teams’ prowess, or mock chosen rivals. They raise their voices constantly, broken only by rare moments when players actually score. You can hear this tumult during soccer broadcasts, a perpetual hum beneath TV announcers. As a soccer fan, I love the spectacle. I’d sing along if I knew the words!
Well, a few weeks back, the USA national soccer team was playing. And as per usual at sporting events, just before kickoff, someone sang the national anthem. You know the drill. A person on the field belts The Star Spangled Banner with gusto. The home crowd might sing along, but barely audible, right? Usually the solo performer controls the tempo, the pitch, holding “Land of the Freeeee” longer than necessary. Sometimes the performance is understated. Sometimes it’s defiantly unique. But always, Always, the solo performer carries the song.
Except in this instance. At this game, the Kansas City crowd acted like…soccer fans. They sang along to the national anthem. Loudly. Brazenly. Thus, they utterly ignored the unspoken expectation that the on-field singer controls the singing. It was almost comical, if you ask me. The singer set one tempo, the crowd followed, until the singer slowed down for a run of vocal gymnastics. Meaning suddenly, she was totally out-of-synch with the crowd, who lumbered along. A kind of vocal battle ensued. The singer kept on as planned, forcing the fans back in step, until another miscommunication occurred and another readjustment was required. It was as surreal a national anthem as I’ve ever witnessed.
And it seemed like an unplanned metaphor worth me reading too much into. For isn’t life frequently styled a conflict between individual initiative and crowd mentality? On the one hand is the lone singer, the heroically creative savant. S/he bucks the trend, tries something new, overwhelms the masses through brilliance. On the other hand is the teeming throng, following the beat of a boring drummer. Slovenly devoted to the status quo, this collective deplores inventiveness.
Shane, you’ll say, that’s waaaay too simple a diagnosis of modern society. And you’re right, but it’s believed by many. Besides, it helps me make a point… Which is that I believe something that’s possible- not pervasive, but it happens- is that sometimes a crowd creates something spectacular. Creativity, in other words, can be as communal as it can be singular. Take Wikipedia. It’s a publicly controlled encyclopedia where anyone’s allowed to edit and input information. Some deplore this ‘open source’ method as obviously susceptible to error. Yet some studies found that in many instances it’s as reliable as Encyclopedia Britannica. When writing research papers, you should use more academic sources. But as a quick primer on unknown subjects, free-to-use Wikipedia’s quite useful.
Or take religion. Many believe that religious ideas result primarily from lone champions. Paul. St. Francis. Mother Theresa. I, too, celebrate these faith heroes, but the whole story is bigger. It’s also one of communities discovering new avenues of spirituality and compassion, together. Like Disciples on the American frontier, coming together for the sake of Unity. Like bunches of African-American churches, working together for Civil Rights. In both instances, celebrated leaders often get the credit. But Barton Stone and MKL Jr. wouldn’t have been as effective without creative crowds urging them on.
Which is why, for at least that one game, I’d have loved if this happened: Once the national anthem singer realized that this crowd was so excited to sing, so excited to support their team, so energized to laud their nation that they sang loudly, proudly, together, as one, then rather than raise her voice above their voices, rather than struggle for Star Spangled supremacy, she dropped the mic, smiled at the stands and joined the communal singing. It wouldn’t have solved our country’s disgusting divisiveness. It wouldn’t have redefined the national anthem. But for that moment, it would’ve symbolized that beautiful things can happen when we work as one.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Broken windows…
The first church I joined in adulthood was Iglesia del Pueblo Christian Church in Hammond, Indiana. Why? Well, during my initial visit, a guy named Joe welcomed me with gusto! His wasn’t the quick handshake, “Nice to see you,” then forget you kind of greeting. He took much of the morning learning who I was, sharing who he was, laughing and talking with me. Not everyone’s like Joe, of course. He’s extroverted to the nth degree! But because he cared so much, not just about being nice, but really welcoming me, I felt immediately at peace in a new place. It began to fell home.
Anyway, as I became a fuller part of IDP’s life, I learned of a brewing controversy about broken windows. IDP wasn’t rich; some immigrants and many blue collar workers. But they cared deeply about their church home and using it to shine God’s light of love. Alas, over time, a window or two had cracked. So the debate was, “Should we fix it, or do we have better uses for our resources?” On the one hand, people wondered whether potential visitors would shy away from a church with apparently shoddy facilities. Appearances aren’t everything, they’d say, but they matter for building confidence. On other hand, some thought that feeding the poor was a higher priority. IDP ran weekly soup lunches for local homeless folk, often reached out to those in need in their struggling local environment. The windows still work, they said, not perfectly, but well enough. So let’s direct what we have to those in fragile situations.
I’ve been pondering this memory a lot recently, since we’ve been running a Capital Campaign at Plymouth Creek. We too have some broken windows, crumbling parking lots, etc. But our community also has poor folk in need, families struggling to make ends meet and feel at peace. I’ll be honest. At IDP, I was on the “don’t fix the windows” side. I was still new, of course, hadn’t invested much already in the infrastructure. But I felt strongly- and still do- that the point of church isn’t buildings. The reason we worship, gather in fellowship, give together and such is so, in Jesus’ words, “The Kingdom of God will come on earth as it is heaven.” Love matters more than broken windows. Meeting the needs of those in need trumps parking lots or pretty carpets every time.
Which isn’t to say I don’t believe in our Capital Campaign! Indeed, my wife and I pledged good money to help this effort be successful. But on some level, I feel a tension about this giving, a sense of the risk we’re taking. We could do as some churches do, letting a facilities’ update be a culmination. We could act like a spiffy new shine accomplishes our ultimate purpose for being a community of faith.
Or we could be earnest, bold, engaged disciples of Jesus Christ, and commit ourselves to using this rejuvenated physical plant as a springboard for greater mission. I, for one, am not attracted by churches who pat themselves on the back for looking nice. I’m inspired, rather, by gutsy communities who roll up their sleeves and work. Who resurface parking lots so they can fill parking lots with worshippers and folk seeking help. Who invest in hospitable entry ways so kids and grandmothers have inviting places to form meaningful relationships. Who redo leaking windows because they believe in good stewardship of God’s Creation, then redouble that Creation Care through community gardening, recycling, composting and more.
Because I believe in Plymouth Creek- not the building or facilities, but the people and the facilities- and because I believe we’ll keep our priorities in line, I give and remain excited. Is it risky to do what we’re doing? Could we finish the facility improvements then not redouble our efforts at actually “doing church”? Sure, it’s possible. But more likely is you’ll shine brighter with God’s light of love. Because that’s who we’ve been, and it’s who we are. Let’s make sure it continues to lead us forward.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Anyway, as I became a fuller part of IDP’s life, I learned of a brewing controversy about broken windows. IDP wasn’t rich; some immigrants and many blue collar workers. But they cared deeply about their church home and using it to shine God’s light of love. Alas, over time, a window or two had cracked. So the debate was, “Should we fix it, or do we have better uses for our resources?” On the one hand, people wondered whether potential visitors would shy away from a church with apparently shoddy facilities. Appearances aren’t everything, they’d say, but they matter for building confidence. On other hand, some thought that feeding the poor was a higher priority. IDP ran weekly soup lunches for local homeless folk, often reached out to those in need in their struggling local environment. The windows still work, they said, not perfectly, but well enough. So let’s direct what we have to those in fragile situations.
I’ve been pondering this memory a lot recently, since we’ve been running a Capital Campaign at Plymouth Creek. We too have some broken windows, crumbling parking lots, etc. But our community also has poor folk in need, families struggling to make ends meet and feel at peace. I’ll be honest. At IDP, I was on the “don’t fix the windows” side. I was still new, of course, hadn’t invested much already in the infrastructure. But I felt strongly- and still do- that the point of church isn’t buildings. The reason we worship, gather in fellowship, give together and such is so, in Jesus’ words, “The Kingdom of God will come on earth as it is heaven.” Love matters more than broken windows. Meeting the needs of those in need trumps parking lots or pretty carpets every time.
Which isn’t to say I don’t believe in our Capital Campaign! Indeed, my wife and I pledged good money to help this effort be successful. But on some level, I feel a tension about this giving, a sense of the risk we’re taking. We could do as some churches do, letting a facilities’ update be a culmination. We could act like a spiffy new shine accomplishes our ultimate purpose for being a community of faith.
Or we could be earnest, bold, engaged disciples of Jesus Christ, and commit ourselves to using this rejuvenated physical plant as a springboard for greater mission. I, for one, am not attracted by churches who pat themselves on the back for looking nice. I’m inspired, rather, by gutsy communities who roll up their sleeves and work. Who resurface parking lots so they can fill parking lots with worshippers and folk seeking help. Who invest in hospitable entry ways so kids and grandmothers have inviting places to form meaningful relationships. Who redo leaking windows because they believe in good stewardship of God’s Creation, then redouble that Creation Care through community gardening, recycling, composting and more.
Because I believe in Plymouth Creek- not the building or facilities, but the people and the facilities- and because I believe we’ll keep our priorities in line, I give and remain excited. Is it risky to do what we’re doing? Could we finish the facility improvements then not redouble our efforts at actually “doing church”? Sure, it’s possible. But more likely is you’ll shine brighter with God’s light of love. Because that’s who we’ve been, and it’s who we are. Let’s make sure it continues to lead us forward.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Deliver us…
“Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” I suspect everyone recognizes this snippet from Jesus’ timeless, Lord’s Prayer. Although, as we also know, several varieties are used. The churches of my childhood preferred, “Forgive us our trespasses.” But the original word- ὀφείλημα pronounced, o-feh-lay-mah- means “debts,” as in money or services owed by one party to another.
Of course, since Jesus originally uttered it, it’s been commonly understood as a metaphor for sin. But scholars tell us that Jesus wasn’t just being metaphorical. Among poor, common people of his day- i.e. 90% of the population and those to whom he ministered mostly- farming, land-use, and tax debt was everyday fair. More than that, debt was crushing, a cause of widespread poverty. Many families couldn’t own the land they worked, due to high indebtedness. And those who did own often lost land to wealthy city residents who piled high debts on these peasants. They, after all, had to buy seed, farm implements and daily bread, pay temple or imperial taxes, and when harvests were tight, emergency capital was scarce. Thus, a debt industry grew to tide peasant folk through tough times, but when better times came, rarely could they work out of trouble.
Not surprising, then, that Jesus used “debts” in his famous prayer. For his ministry partners and recipients, this turmoil routinely shackled their families. To be forgiven one’s debts meant, literally, a new lease on life. And to forgive one’s debtors- folk rarely viewed with kindness and compassion- meant an act of spiritual powerlifting, a profoundly daring idea.
The prayer’s on my mind this week because I just finished a remarkable book. Titled, White House Burning: The Founding Fathers, Our National Debt and Why It Matters to You, it’s a history of America’s national indebtedness, and a treatise on how our nation might respond to the debt we collectively face. I found the book quite accessible to those not fully versed in economics, like me. I wasn’t entirely ignorant before reading, but now feel much more comfortable with the subject.
And, frankly, I’m a bit worried, not terrified, but concerned. For, truly, the consequences of unchecked debt could be stunningly…icky. Many of us know this personally; I cringe monthly at the student loan payments I make. I’m not ashamed of that debt, since it purchased an education that helps me be a better minister for this church. Still, it’ll be decades until I can shout, “Yeah! I’m debt free!” And think of all the Broncos jerseys that money could buy in the meantime…
On a national level, too, I’m not (entirely) ashamed of our debt. As the book described, in many cases it resulted from decisions our people made to make our lives better. Factions from differing political camps might (do!) take issue with some of those decisions or others. Still, in theory at least, our historically high standard of living derives from collective action we’ve taken.
But we’ve financed some of that action, not from current income, but through future borrowing. And as everyone with loans knows, the paymaster always cometh. In the coming national election, both major parties appear concerned about the debt. At least in theory, they offer competing proposals for how to tackle it, eventually. I won’t weigh in on who I think offers the best proposal, except to say I’m skeptical that either side seems really, truly committed. Still, I’d hope that every voter has an idea for how s/he’d want us to “forgive us our debts”.
Because the issue, as I see it, is that indebtedness isn’t an acceptable long-term strategy. Whether that debt is to your neighbor, for having hurt her with rudeness, to God, for having denied God’s call for justice, love and compassion, or to future generations, for having avoided responsible decisions to avert potential catastrophes of national default or environmental devastation, we ought desire forgiveness and reconciliation, not shutting our eyes and ears. After all, the ultimate goal isn’t getting all we want, whenever we want, to heck with the consequences. It’s to help “God’s Kingdom come on earth,” as best we’re able. Working together.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Goodness…
So… Apparently, Jesus had a wife. Or may’ve had a wife. Or some Christians once thought it was possible. Or something.
I refer, of course, to a news story that broke recently. It seems a Harvard Divinity School professor, a few years back, came upon an allegedly ancient fragment of papyrus. Written in 4th-century Egyptian (Coptic), it contained the phrase, “Jesus said unto them, ‘My wife...’” Since then, she’s subjected the document to archeological testing, written a journal article for peer review, and last month presented her work to an academic conference. As researchers do.
Recap: previously unknown words penned no earlier than three hundred years after Jesus’ death show Jesus muttering “my wife”, though the papyrus ends before further illumination can arise. Intriguing as a potential, albeit limited, window into 4th century Coptic Christianity and its diverse ideas? Sure. Useful evidence for constructing an historically rigorous picture of Mr. (and Mrs.?) Christ’s home-life? Not so much.
Therefore naturally, for a few days after the aforementioned conference, worldwide news organizations went ballistic! “Jesus was married?! OMJesus! God the Father was an in-law?!” I suspect the coverage would’ve been less intense if The Da Vinci Code hadn’t made such a splash. But it did. So now news orgs know that possible suggestions that Jesus may have had (sex) a family produce heavy traffic. Hence it is that a boringly detailed academic non-event becomes global breaking news. So much so, local suburban pastors get sucked in enough to comment.
Honestly, I doubt Jesus was married. He seemed too…peripatetic. You know, walking here, walking there, never staying anywhere all that long. Not terribly effective for nurturing an intimate relationship, right? But maybe he was. If so, good for him. It wouldn’t matter to my faith, I think. Although some Christians consider the suggestion itself evil, blasphemous, dirty.
And that has to do with sex. At least, that’s my guess. After all, we Christians have long had an awkward relationship with sexuality of all kinds. As I understand it, long ago some theologians speculatively separated the human self into Spirit v Flesh (mis-taking cues from Paul’s writings). Spirit they called good, obviously. Flesh, therefore, was bad. And though Flesh could’ve referenced many diverse things, what really got these folks worked up was carnal activity.
Which makes a kind of sense, right? Sexuality is powerful, and sometimes dangerous, and when abused, sometimes destructive to families. And family is about the most important force in human civilization. But it’s a long jump to go from those admissions to, “Only sex for the purpose of procreation is admissible, and then it’s simply tolerated.” Yet for centuries, that was more or less official Western Christian policy (strangely overlooking that healthy sexuality is highly beneficial to families).
Anyway, fast forward to now, and we’re still dealing with baggage from this centuries-long skepticism or derision of sexuality. It shows up, maybe comically, in the oversized attention the above mentioned news story received. It shows up, less comically, in the bitter fights we’re having about narrowly defining marriage in the Minnesota constitution.
But I wonder if, wherever you stand on those or other sexuality-related issues, we’d have more productive conversations if we all read Song of Songs again. And recognized the delight it takes in humanity, in “flesh”. It too acknowledges the dangers of (especially immature) sexuality. But in the context of loving commitment, this Bible book says more. Apparently, it believes we’re created, as Genesis 1 put it, “good.” Which isn’t, “Without the possibility of evil and abuse.” But rather, “Full of possibility for beauty.”
And that’s true for all humans- male, female, Jesus! Sin hasn’t so infected our “flesh” we’re incapable of doing things good and right and wonderful. Whether we’re talking sexuality or feeding the hungry or building just, decent communities, we may mess up at times, but we don’t always have to. Indeed, I believe that Jesus came to show us what more was possible if we’d better acknowledge and utilize- with God’s help!- the power within us. If we’d more joyfully and respectfully honor the creative image of our Creator God, imprinted on our spirit and flesh. And our neighbors.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
I refer, of course, to a news story that broke recently. It seems a Harvard Divinity School professor, a few years back, came upon an allegedly ancient fragment of papyrus. Written in 4th-century Egyptian (Coptic), it contained the phrase, “Jesus said unto them, ‘My wife...’” Since then, she’s subjected the document to archeological testing, written a journal article for peer review, and last month presented her work to an academic conference. As researchers do.
Recap: previously unknown words penned no earlier than three hundred years after Jesus’ death show Jesus muttering “my wife”, though the papyrus ends before further illumination can arise. Intriguing as a potential, albeit limited, window into 4th century Coptic Christianity and its diverse ideas? Sure. Useful evidence for constructing an historically rigorous picture of Mr. (and Mrs.?) Christ’s home-life? Not so much.
Therefore naturally, for a few days after the aforementioned conference, worldwide news organizations went ballistic! “Jesus was married?! OMJesus! God the Father was an in-law?!” I suspect the coverage would’ve been less intense if The Da Vinci Code hadn’t made such a splash. But it did. So now news orgs know that possible suggestions that Jesus may have had (sex) a family produce heavy traffic. Hence it is that a boringly detailed academic non-event becomes global breaking news. So much so, local suburban pastors get sucked in enough to comment.
Honestly, I doubt Jesus was married. He seemed too…peripatetic. You know, walking here, walking there, never staying anywhere all that long. Not terribly effective for nurturing an intimate relationship, right? But maybe he was. If so, good for him. It wouldn’t matter to my faith, I think. Although some Christians consider the suggestion itself evil, blasphemous, dirty.
And that has to do with sex. At least, that’s my guess. After all, we Christians have long had an awkward relationship with sexuality of all kinds. As I understand it, long ago some theologians speculatively separated the human self into Spirit v Flesh (mis-taking cues from Paul’s writings). Spirit they called good, obviously. Flesh, therefore, was bad. And though Flesh could’ve referenced many diverse things, what really got these folks worked up was carnal activity.
Which makes a kind of sense, right? Sexuality is powerful, and sometimes dangerous, and when abused, sometimes destructive to families. And family is about the most important force in human civilization. But it’s a long jump to go from those admissions to, “Only sex for the purpose of procreation is admissible, and then it’s simply tolerated.” Yet for centuries, that was more or less official Western Christian policy (strangely overlooking that healthy sexuality is highly beneficial to families).
Anyway, fast forward to now, and we’re still dealing with baggage from this centuries-long skepticism or derision of sexuality. It shows up, maybe comically, in the oversized attention the above mentioned news story received. It shows up, less comically, in the bitter fights we’re having about narrowly defining marriage in the Minnesota constitution.
But I wonder if, wherever you stand on those or other sexuality-related issues, we’d have more productive conversations if we all read Song of Songs again. And recognized the delight it takes in humanity, in “flesh”. It too acknowledges the dangers of (especially immature) sexuality. But in the context of loving commitment, this Bible book says more. Apparently, it believes we’re created, as Genesis 1 put it, “good.” Which isn’t, “Without the possibility of evil and abuse.” But rather, “Full of possibility for beauty.”
And that’s true for all humans- male, female, Jesus! Sin hasn’t so infected our “flesh” we’re incapable of doing things good and right and wonderful. Whether we’re talking sexuality or feeding the hungry or building just, decent communities, we may mess up at times, but we don’t always have to. Indeed, I believe that Jesus came to show us what more was possible if we’d better acknowledge and utilize- with God’s help!- the power within us. If we’d more joyfully and respectfully honor the creative image of our Creator God, imprinted on our spirit and flesh. And our neighbors.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Shining brighter…
Behind the Table of the church I served in Lexington stood a three-stories tall stained-glass window. Artfully declaring the good news of Jesus, it depicted both scenes of his life and modern life, in which Jesus and followers served the needy, helped the hurting, praised the glory of God. Truth be told, worshippers had trouble looking away from that window. It was that striking, that well done.
And it was there because a church member wanted to invest in his church’s future, in the mission of God in that place. Apparently, one day the music minister paid the man a visit, saw his yard needing mowing, then told his son to return on Saturday to help. Soon after, the man pulled the minister aside. “Tell your son thanks. By the way, can I help design a $100,000 stained-glass window for the church?” “Uhhh…” was the minister’s stunned response. But soon enough, the deed was done. And now the glass, the beauty the church member helped create inspires awe, evokes majesty, calls its viewers to deeper acts of faithful service. In short, it helps do what church ought do: Bring the Kingdom of God into our midst.
Over the next month, you’ll hear a lot about giving, the Kingdom of God in our midst, investing in the beauty and future of our church through your time, talent and treasures. We’ve talked some in recent months about needing to raise money for facility improvements. To date, in fact, we’ve already received $11,500! But as the Board and other leaders have looked around, talked with members, prayerfully considered our needs and options, it’s become clear that we’ll need more money to do what needs doing. Specifically, we hope to revamp our parking lot, restore our carpets, swap out sanctuary windows, fix our roof and pay down debt. One reason why is obvious; our decades-old building and grounds demand attention! The other- and to my mind, more pressing- reason has to do with our church’s mission.
Imagine you’re a young family in Plymouth, MN, wondering if any churches nearby welcome everybody, don’t tell you what you must believe, encourage warm relationships across generations and live out deepening faith through service. I believe many would find that church attractive. And I think that church is…Plymouth Creek! Then, you drive into our lot, immediately avoiding a massive hole. You enter the building, then see a funky carpet and crumbling windows. You read our budget and realize we’re good stewards of scant resources, but still spend a chunk on debt, rather than ministry to children or the poor. You’d want to make this place your home, right?! You’d want to serve and shine with us! But you might have second thoughts, “Will they make it? Can they overcome these challenges?”
Fast forward to next Spring, though, after a successful Capital Campaign, after PCCCers pledge to give x number of dollars over three years to make our church shine brighter now and for generations, we’ll be that same church with great values, boldly living 21st-century Christian faith, but all those questions about facilities, well, they’ll have diminished, maybe disappeared. For that reason, especially, is why my family will give money to this Capital Campaign. Not because we believe in Plymouth Creek’s building. We believe in our mission. We’re inspired by our vision- To become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the Northwestern suburbs. We’re grateful for the investments of generations before us, and want to do our part now.
So will you give with Tabitha and me? Again, the Campaign starts September 30 and runs for four weeks. By October 21, we hope you’ll turn pledges in for…$2,000? $20,000? We have details on the projects and spending decisions that we’ll share in other formats. Please ask all the questions you need, and pray for God’s good guidance. Can we do it? Absolutely! With God, all things are possible. And God’s called us to be, like Jesus, lights for the world around us. Let us shine, therefore, as bright now as we can, and- God willing- unto generations more!
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
And it was there because a church member wanted to invest in his church’s future, in the mission of God in that place. Apparently, one day the music minister paid the man a visit, saw his yard needing mowing, then told his son to return on Saturday to help. Soon after, the man pulled the minister aside. “Tell your son thanks. By the way, can I help design a $100,000 stained-glass window for the church?” “Uhhh…” was the minister’s stunned response. But soon enough, the deed was done. And now the glass, the beauty the church member helped create inspires awe, evokes majesty, calls its viewers to deeper acts of faithful service. In short, it helps do what church ought do: Bring the Kingdom of God into our midst.
Over the next month, you’ll hear a lot about giving, the Kingdom of God in our midst, investing in the beauty and future of our church through your time, talent and treasures. We’ve talked some in recent months about needing to raise money for facility improvements. To date, in fact, we’ve already received $11,500! But as the Board and other leaders have looked around, talked with members, prayerfully considered our needs and options, it’s become clear that we’ll need more money to do what needs doing. Specifically, we hope to revamp our parking lot, restore our carpets, swap out sanctuary windows, fix our roof and pay down debt. One reason why is obvious; our decades-old building and grounds demand attention! The other- and to my mind, more pressing- reason has to do with our church’s mission.
Imagine you’re a young family in Plymouth, MN, wondering if any churches nearby welcome everybody, don’t tell you what you must believe, encourage warm relationships across generations and live out deepening faith through service. I believe many would find that church attractive. And I think that church is…Plymouth Creek! Then, you drive into our lot, immediately avoiding a massive hole. You enter the building, then see a funky carpet and crumbling windows. You read our budget and realize we’re good stewards of scant resources, but still spend a chunk on debt, rather than ministry to children or the poor. You’d want to make this place your home, right?! You’d want to serve and shine with us! But you might have second thoughts, “Will they make it? Can they overcome these challenges?”
Fast forward to next Spring, though, after a successful Capital Campaign, after PCCCers pledge to give x number of dollars over three years to make our church shine brighter now and for generations, we’ll be that same church with great values, boldly living 21st-century Christian faith, but all those questions about facilities, well, they’ll have diminished, maybe disappeared. For that reason, especially, is why my family will give money to this Capital Campaign. Not because we believe in Plymouth Creek’s building. We believe in our mission. We’re inspired by our vision- To become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the Northwestern suburbs. We’re grateful for the investments of generations before us, and want to do our part now.
So will you give with Tabitha and me? Again, the Campaign starts September 30 and runs for four weeks. By October 21, we hope you’ll turn pledges in for…$2,000? $20,000? We have details on the projects and spending decisions that we’ll share in other formats. Please ask all the questions you need, and pray for God’s good guidance. Can we do it? Absolutely! With God, all things are possible. And God’s called us to be, like Jesus, lights for the world around us. Let us shine, therefore, as bright now as we can, and- God willing- unto generations more!
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Faithful suspicion…
Last weekend, I began a book that, in the late 1980s, caused a stir. Titled “The Satanic Verses” (referring to a disputed story from Islam’s founding), this novel narrates two men’s experiences of traveling from India to Britain. It’s a good read so far, literary and imaginative. I’ve gotten to some of the “controversial” sections and haven’t found them offensive. Of course, I’m not Ayatollah Khomeini who, in 1989, faced an angry Iranian public, tired from eight years of war with Iraq, upset by their government’s bungling, and thus- some commentators have suggested- the Ayatollah needed a scapegoat. Fortunately (for him), there was Salman Rushdie’s recently published book. So, in what I find an act of stunning hubris, he ‘informed’, “all brave Muslims of the world that the author of The Satanic Verses…(is)condemned to death. I call on all valiant Muslims wherever they may be in the world to kill (him) without delay.” This ‘ruling’, or fatwa, sparked multiple demonstrations in Muslim-majority countries, at which some were killed. And Rushdie spent the next decade-plus in hiding.
Now, I didn’t choose this novel because of recent demonstrations in Muslim-majority countries. I’ve been eyeing it for years, and recently found it on sale. Still, the parallels of that controversy and what’s been dominating recent news have seemed eerie to me, and sad.
Not that the Youtube video that sparked last week’s turmoil compares to Rushdie’s fiction. I haven’t seen the now infamous (and from all accounts, stupidly intolerant) video, but have heard it’s an amateurish, deliberate attack on the dignity of Islam and its founder. Rushdie, by contrast, painted an artistic, nuanced picture of the alleged “Satanic Verses Incident”, seeking to explore the concept of revelation. He deplores ‘fanaticism,’ self-describes as an atheist, but also professes respect for religious folk, Muslims included. Yet regardless of intent- intentionally demeaning or imaginative investigation- in both instances, people chose to take offense, leading to others’ deaths.
I suspect that today, as then, the reasons for the condemnations and resulting protests are more complex than, “The artwork offends Muslims.” For starters, some Muslims aren’t offended. And for most who are, the offense isn’t worth hurting, or murdering, other humans. But like then, these days we see hostile leaders using this otherwise obscure fiction to distract attention or gain power. For instance, on Monday, Hezbollah’s leader made a rare public appearance to denounce the anti-Islamic video and ‘warn’ the US. He’s done the latter many times before, it’s just now he sees an opportunity: Channel people’s frustrations to support his organization.
I find such behavior disgusting. Obviously, violence in reaction to art, however stupid or beautiful, offends my regard for the rights of free expression and of life itself. But beyond that, the cynical manipulation of religious sentiment for political gain in these cases angers me. Whatever the reasons for people’s protests- sincere spiritual offense, disgust with US foreign policy, frustration at inequality or poverty, or just plain ole bigotry- to then take advantage by marshaling pious devotion in favor of death and violence, that contradicts all I cherish about religion, Christian and Muslim.
After all, Jesus said, “Love your enemy.” Not that Muslims are Christian enemies, nor Muslim-majority countries the enemies of religiously-diverse America. But whomever chooses to call you ‘enemy,’ Jesus counsels, ought be treated in return with compassion, not derision. That’s the spiritually courageous, even responsible, reaction, as many Muslim leaders these days agree. For God, as Mohamed described, is All-Compassionate and Merciful. Or as 1 John puts it, God is Love. To stand up to aggression and defend the weak is, surely, a just application of those principles. But even when one must confront a bully with force (like, say, Hitler), religiously sincere people- particularly leaders- cannot advocate hate, and hate-inspired violence. It betrays the unifying, reconciling, forgiving force behind religion itself. It betrays God, as every great prophet made plain.
So whatever’s “really happening” in recent protests, I urge you to be suspicious of anyone using religion to stoke the flames. That’s not authentic Christian or Islamic faith. It’s a willful grab for power. And our God desires love and reconciliation, not division or hate.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Now, I didn’t choose this novel because of recent demonstrations in Muslim-majority countries. I’ve been eyeing it for years, and recently found it on sale. Still, the parallels of that controversy and what’s been dominating recent news have seemed eerie to me, and sad.
Not that the Youtube video that sparked last week’s turmoil compares to Rushdie’s fiction. I haven’t seen the now infamous (and from all accounts, stupidly intolerant) video, but have heard it’s an amateurish, deliberate attack on the dignity of Islam and its founder. Rushdie, by contrast, painted an artistic, nuanced picture of the alleged “Satanic Verses Incident”, seeking to explore the concept of revelation. He deplores ‘fanaticism,’ self-describes as an atheist, but also professes respect for religious folk, Muslims included. Yet regardless of intent- intentionally demeaning or imaginative investigation- in both instances, people chose to take offense, leading to others’ deaths.
I suspect that today, as then, the reasons for the condemnations and resulting protests are more complex than, “The artwork offends Muslims.” For starters, some Muslims aren’t offended. And for most who are, the offense isn’t worth hurting, or murdering, other humans. But like then, these days we see hostile leaders using this otherwise obscure fiction to distract attention or gain power. For instance, on Monday, Hezbollah’s leader made a rare public appearance to denounce the anti-Islamic video and ‘warn’ the US. He’s done the latter many times before, it’s just now he sees an opportunity: Channel people’s frustrations to support his organization.
I find such behavior disgusting. Obviously, violence in reaction to art, however stupid or beautiful, offends my regard for the rights of free expression and of life itself. But beyond that, the cynical manipulation of religious sentiment for political gain in these cases angers me. Whatever the reasons for people’s protests- sincere spiritual offense, disgust with US foreign policy, frustration at inequality or poverty, or just plain ole bigotry- to then take advantage by marshaling pious devotion in favor of death and violence, that contradicts all I cherish about religion, Christian and Muslim.
After all, Jesus said, “Love your enemy.” Not that Muslims are Christian enemies, nor Muslim-majority countries the enemies of religiously-diverse America. But whomever chooses to call you ‘enemy,’ Jesus counsels, ought be treated in return with compassion, not derision. That’s the spiritually courageous, even responsible, reaction, as many Muslim leaders these days agree. For God, as Mohamed described, is All-Compassionate and Merciful. Or as 1 John puts it, God is Love. To stand up to aggression and defend the weak is, surely, a just application of those principles. But even when one must confront a bully with force (like, say, Hitler), religiously sincere people- particularly leaders- cannot advocate hate, and hate-inspired violence. It betrays the unifying, reconciling, forgiving force behind religion itself. It betrays God, as every great prophet made plain.
So whatever’s “really happening” in recent protests, I urge you to be suspicious of anyone using religion to stoke the flames. That’s not authentic Christian or Islamic faith. It’s a willful grab for power. And our God desires love and reconciliation, not division or hate.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Thursday, September 13, 2012
A speck…
I heard an astronomer last week describe Earth this way- “We’re a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck.” So it goes, he claimed, when you consider the vast magnitude of space. Humanity’s relationship to the endless-seeming, post-Big Bang reality.
I’ve been pondering the cosmos of late, not simply because of this comment, but so too because of amazing footing from the new Mars rover, Curiosity. Did you hear about this? Recently, NASA landed another high-tech rolling robot on the red planet, equipped with 3-D, hi-def video. Apparently, the landing involved decelerating the craft from 13,000 miles per hour to zero, in seven minutes. What’s more, NASA’s scientists couldn’t make adjustments during the landing, meaning the whole operation was pre-programmed. So once Curiosity entered Mars’ atmosphere, observers could only wait, worry and pray. Praise the Space Gods, though, it worked! Curiosity’s a-roving. And wow! At least I find the images it’s sending to be beautiful.
Funny how knowledge evolves, amen?! In Genesis 1, the scripture writer attempts her/his own “Cosmological” imagining. S/he imagines the cosmos as being contained within a great dome. There are Waters below (sea), Waters above (sky; held back by Heavenly Flood Gates), and the Land on which s/he walks is a kind of literal middle ground. Beyond the Waters are what ancients called “The Deep” and “The Heavens”. And since those were, presumably, divine domains, no one knows what’s there.
Notice what a human-centered worldview that cosmological thinking was- We are the center of God’s Creation, the Divine Plan’s culmination. After all, on the story’s supposed Seventh Day- just after creating humanity- God rests, as if to say, “I’m done, y’all! Have at it.” Nowadays, though, we know that beyond earth’s sky aren’t waters holding back Heaven. Instead, it’s this endless void called Space, of which Earth isn’t even close to the center. In fact, the above-quoted astronomer says, “There’s truly no ‘Center of the Universe’.” No one place from which gravity pulls, and around which all things rotate.
Instead, we’re “a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck”, a phrase that, I suspect, makes some feel lonely and insignificant. Certainly, when Copernicus first proposed that the Earth rotated around the Sun, not vice versa, church authorities of his day cried (my paraphrase), “Blasphemy! You’re making us feel small!” But I take another perspective. It makes me marvel at the wonder of God! The majesty of this Divine Reality whose attention encompasses all that is. Typically, we us-centered humans act like “all that is” means…our state? Nation? Civilization? Planet? But as Mars’ Curiosity reminds us, Reality is so much greater still. Yet to think, as Psalm 139 contends, “Lord, you have searched me and known me”? How cool is that?! God knows and loves us. Amidst all the endless immensity of the cosmos!
Honestly, it further impresses upon me a sense of profound responsibility. If, in fact, as our faith contends, God not only cares about life on this lonely planet, but cared enough to get involved through the life and resurrection of Jesus, shouldn’t we take that much more care of our lush, abundant home? I know some people- perhaps some of you- question the veracity of human-caused global warming. Whatever your convictions, though, about causes and solutions, none of us should be blasé about potential consequences of receding polar ice caps and 6.9 billion (and rising) people on earth. Our planet’s too fragile, too isolated, for us to shrug off possibly devastating risks. Not when we have industrial capacity to damage it. And hopefully save it.
But here’s the thing: Presumably, by getting involved in life through Jesus, et al, God thinks enough of us to believe we can handle the responsibility. We aren’t God. But we too can love. We too can work together creatively. For that reason- God’s faith in us- I have faith in our common future. We may be a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck. But that speck ultimately rests on the beating heart of God. Whose name is Love, whose hope is endless and who knows us well enough to have faith.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
I’ve been pondering the cosmos of late, not simply because of this comment, but so too because of amazing footing from the new Mars rover, Curiosity. Did you hear about this? Recently, NASA landed another high-tech rolling robot on the red planet, equipped with 3-D, hi-def video. Apparently, the landing involved decelerating the craft from 13,000 miles per hour to zero, in seven minutes. What’s more, NASA’s scientists couldn’t make adjustments during the landing, meaning the whole operation was pre-programmed. So once Curiosity entered Mars’ atmosphere, observers could only wait, worry and pray. Praise the Space Gods, though, it worked! Curiosity’s a-roving. And wow! At least I find the images it’s sending to be beautiful.
Funny how knowledge evolves, amen?! In Genesis 1, the scripture writer attempts her/his own “Cosmological” imagining. S/he imagines the cosmos as being contained within a great dome. There are Waters below (sea), Waters above (sky; held back by Heavenly Flood Gates), and the Land on which s/he walks is a kind of literal middle ground. Beyond the Waters are what ancients called “The Deep” and “The Heavens”. And since those were, presumably, divine domains, no one knows what’s there.
Notice what a human-centered worldview that cosmological thinking was- We are the center of God’s Creation, the Divine Plan’s culmination. After all, on the story’s supposed Seventh Day- just after creating humanity- God rests, as if to say, “I’m done, y’all! Have at it.” Nowadays, though, we know that beyond earth’s sky aren’t waters holding back Heaven. Instead, it’s this endless void called Space, of which Earth isn’t even close to the center. In fact, the above-quoted astronomer says, “There’s truly no ‘Center of the Universe’.” No one place from which gravity pulls, and around which all things rotate.
Instead, we’re “a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck”, a phrase that, I suspect, makes some feel lonely and insignificant. Certainly, when Copernicus first proposed that the Earth rotated around the Sun, not vice versa, church authorities of his day cried (my paraphrase), “Blasphemy! You’re making us feel small!” But I take another perspective. It makes me marvel at the wonder of God! The majesty of this Divine Reality whose attention encompasses all that is. Typically, we us-centered humans act like “all that is” means…our state? Nation? Civilization? Planet? But as Mars’ Curiosity reminds us, Reality is so much greater still. Yet to think, as Psalm 139 contends, “Lord, you have searched me and known me”? How cool is that?! God knows and loves us. Amidst all the endless immensity of the cosmos!
Honestly, it further impresses upon me a sense of profound responsibility. If, in fact, as our faith contends, God not only cares about life on this lonely planet, but cared enough to get involved through the life and resurrection of Jesus, shouldn’t we take that much more care of our lush, abundant home? I know some people- perhaps some of you- question the veracity of human-caused global warming. Whatever your convictions, though, about causes and solutions, none of us should be blasé about potential consequences of receding polar ice caps and 6.9 billion (and rising) people on earth. Our planet’s too fragile, too isolated, for us to shrug off possibly devastating risks. Not when we have industrial capacity to damage it. And hopefully save it.
But here’s the thing: Presumably, by getting involved in life through Jesus, et al, God thinks enough of us to believe we can handle the responsibility. We aren’t God. But we too can love. We too can work together creatively. For that reason- God’s faith in us- I have faith in our common future. We may be a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck. But that speck ultimately rests on the beating heart of God. Whose name is Love, whose hope is endless and who knows us well enough to have faith.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)