So. I’ve now seen a death chamber. Saw an electric chair too but’s that in a museum just outside the prison where I’ve lived this week. Instead, the death chamber currently used at the Louisiana State Penitentiary holds simply a microphone and PA system, so the condemned can share last words with a gathered crowd. And there’s a table with two extended arms- not unlike a flattened, padded cross- on which are straps for wrists, shackle cuffs for feet. That’s it. The death chamber.
Oh, and there are curtains, for covering two large windows looking in on the chamber. Process goes that the prisoner is brought in and then the audience gathers (victims’ family, press, his lawyer, sentencing judge perhaps, but not his own family) and then he says his last words and then he’s strapped to the table. The curtains close while a doctor punctures the man’s flesh with IV lines; both arms just in case. At Angola Prison, the warden stands next to the about-to-die man, holding his hand until the deed is done. I’m told wardens don’t do that elsewhere. Finally, once all’s in place, and after this warden has whispered to the man, “The next face you’ll see is Jesus,” a guard opens the curtain so the onlookers can watch as lethally injected fluids work their way into his system. He dies. They say it takes around seven minutes or so. The man might go peacefully. He might cry. He might “pee and shit himself”. The warden stays and holds the hand all the while. People watch.
Justice is done?
We don’t wrestle with this issue much in Minnesota since, as I recall, we’re one of eighteen states without the death penalty. Louisiana, however, has 84 men on death row, for now. That number was supposed to have shrunk by one a couple weeks ago, but legal maneuvering stayed the case last minute. Apparently, twenty(ish) years back, a man got angry at his child for messing his drawers before church. So he drew a scalding hot bath, stripped the eight year-old boy naked and dumped him in, holding his head below the steaming surface, whapping him several times with a screwdriver to reduce the panicked struggles. One might say he tortured his boy to death in hot water; the skin blistered red when all was done. But the convicted father is not dead because, even after all legal appeals were dismissed, the country where Louisiana buys the killing drugs (Holland) passed a law banning their sale for use in legal executions. Once brought to the judge’s attention, just days away from justice(?), His Honor halted the proceedings until all could be set straight.
I met a man on death row this week who’d been there over twenty years, about the right amount time. I didn’t ask his name. Didn’t know yet this story. But I wonder. And if he wasn’t that particular man, he’d still probably done something else terrible. Some death row felons are innocent, of course, some the victims of racist sentencing policies and bigoted juries. But most are pedophile predators or repeat killers, folk whom many think have squandered their right to live. I’m sympathetic to that notion, to be honest; evil is hard to digest. Though when pressed to consider it fully, I’m glad we’ve abolished the death penalty in Minnesota. I don’t think it’s worth killing a couple innocent men to satisfy our longings for revenge. It costs too much. It’s infected with too many biases. And, ultimately, I don’t want us to play God.
But I get the feeling. This man committed an act that cries out desperately for restitution. Next time you pray the Lord’s Prayer, think of this sin and search your heart. Yet when he and I talked, several things came up- where we’re from, what books we like. And God. “I’m right with God,” he said. “I’ll be welcomed Home.” The radical Good News of the Gospel is that, well, he’s right. God will say, “You’re forgiven. I love you.” No death chamber can change that.
And I wonder if our faith- my faith- is big enough to say the same? Should it?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Visited me…
Some of you know this already. If not, you’ll be intrigued. On February 15, as I was working on a sermon and drinking coffee, a colleague who leads a large, dynamic church called and said, “Shane, I’d like to send you to prison.”
I didn’t do anything wrong. Truly. He wasn’t angry with me or warning me. Rather, he’d called to explain a program he helped develop and to offer me a spot. Simply put, he’s leading a group of youngish ministers into Angola State Penitentiary in Louisiana. We’ll live there from Monday until Friday, March 4-8, immersing ourselves in the prison’s life. Well…at least to an extent. We won’t sleep in cells, but in prison guest houses. We can’t have cell phones or computers inside, but also can’t walk around alone, outside the group. We know when we’ll leave, must wear business casual rather than issued garb. Our food will be the prisoners’ food; our schedule set by the prison staff.
Unfortunately, since this experience came up so last minute, I won’t be in worship Sunday the 3rd. But as I discussed the possibility with our Board leadership and Servant Leaders, they said, “Shane, this sounds like a powerful opportunity. Once in a lifetime…we hope! Go learn something, bring it back, and don’t do anything to make them keep you there.”
So I’m going. As I anticipate the trip, my heart and soul rumbles with many voices. I’m excited; I never imagined I’d have the chance to experience such a rich, unique learning environment. I’m nervous; for as learning environments go, prisons have slightly lower reputations than the typical library. I’m insecure; I imagine I’ll meet folk who’ve dealt with harder life events than I’ve ever had to. I’m grateful; for a supportive church, creative colleagues, the privileges and comforts of my every day.
I could go on. But I keep returning to one scripture that sums up why I wanted to go. You know it well. Jesus tells the Parable of the Sheep and Goats, imagining what that “great getting’ up morning” will be like as all humanity meets God face-to-face. To those whom God is pleased with, Jesus names the reason as- “When I was hungry, you fed me. When I was thirsty, you gave me drink. When I was naked, you gave me clothes. When in prison, you visited me…whatsoever you’ve done unto these, my children- even the ‘least’- you’ve done so unto me.” I usually focus on the food and water and clothing part. Visiting the prisoner? Not really.
Of course, in Jesus’ day, internment was different than it is now. He maybe was imagining simple farmers locked up in debtor’s prison; poor people forced, but unable, to pay larger rents and taxes than their small fields could sustain. These days, more people are incarcerated for drug related crimes than debt, or theft or violence. Not exactly the same, although for many, I’m told, drug use and sales are one of too few opportunities for money making in impoverished urban neighborhoods. And sentencing terms for these poor men and women are typically much harsher than for crimes common to wealthier folk (like embezzlement or powder cocaine usage, as contrasted with property theft and crack). In other words, Jesus’ urging his followers to have compassion on downtrodden peasants confined by an unjust system, it’s not a carbon copy way to our current situation. But neither is it irrelevant. Indeed, it probably matters more these days than we’d prefer admitting.
So I’ve decided to take Jesus’ advice, visit the prison and learn what I can. Not to mention take the advice of a PCCC member who likes saying, “If something feels uncomfortable, it’s probably the right thing to do!” I expect to feel naïve most of the week, confront biases in my soul that I wish weren’t there. But I’ll try to share that with you, either through emails during the week or when I get home. Perhaps then we’ll hear together Christ’s ever-present call- “Whatsoever you’ve done…”- and so recommit to seeking more actively more folk to visit, to serve, to love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
I didn’t do anything wrong. Truly. He wasn’t angry with me or warning me. Rather, he’d called to explain a program he helped develop and to offer me a spot. Simply put, he’s leading a group of youngish ministers into Angola State Penitentiary in Louisiana. We’ll live there from Monday until Friday, March 4-8, immersing ourselves in the prison’s life. Well…at least to an extent. We won’t sleep in cells, but in prison guest houses. We can’t have cell phones or computers inside, but also can’t walk around alone, outside the group. We know when we’ll leave, must wear business casual rather than issued garb. Our food will be the prisoners’ food; our schedule set by the prison staff.
Unfortunately, since this experience came up so last minute, I won’t be in worship Sunday the 3rd. But as I discussed the possibility with our Board leadership and Servant Leaders, they said, “Shane, this sounds like a powerful opportunity. Once in a lifetime…we hope! Go learn something, bring it back, and don’t do anything to make them keep you there.”
So I’m going. As I anticipate the trip, my heart and soul rumbles with many voices. I’m excited; I never imagined I’d have the chance to experience such a rich, unique learning environment. I’m nervous; for as learning environments go, prisons have slightly lower reputations than the typical library. I’m insecure; I imagine I’ll meet folk who’ve dealt with harder life events than I’ve ever had to. I’m grateful; for a supportive church, creative colleagues, the privileges and comforts of my every day.
I could go on. But I keep returning to one scripture that sums up why I wanted to go. You know it well. Jesus tells the Parable of the Sheep and Goats, imagining what that “great getting’ up morning” will be like as all humanity meets God face-to-face. To those whom God is pleased with, Jesus names the reason as- “When I was hungry, you fed me. When I was thirsty, you gave me drink. When I was naked, you gave me clothes. When in prison, you visited me…whatsoever you’ve done unto these, my children- even the ‘least’- you’ve done so unto me.” I usually focus on the food and water and clothing part. Visiting the prisoner? Not really.
Of course, in Jesus’ day, internment was different than it is now. He maybe was imagining simple farmers locked up in debtor’s prison; poor people forced, but unable, to pay larger rents and taxes than their small fields could sustain. These days, more people are incarcerated for drug related crimes than debt, or theft or violence. Not exactly the same, although for many, I’m told, drug use and sales are one of too few opportunities for money making in impoverished urban neighborhoods. And sentencing terms for these poor men and women are typically much harsher than for crimes common to wealthier folk (like embezzlement or powder cocaine usage, as contrasted with property theft and crack). In other words, Jesus’ urging his followers to have compassion on downtrodden peasants confined by an unjust system, it’s not a carbon copy way to our current situation. But neither is it irrelevant. Indeed, it probably matters more these days than we’d prefer admitting.
So I’ve decided to take Jesus’ advice, visit the prison and learn what I can. Not to mention take the advice of a PCCC member who likes saying, “If something feels uncomfortable, it’s probably the right thing to do!” I expect to feel naïve most of the week, confront biases in my soul that I wish weren’t there. But I’ll try to share that with you, either through emails during the week or when I get home. Perhaps then we’ll hear together Christ’s ever-present call- “Whatsoever you’ve done…”- and so recommit to seeking more actively more folk to visit, to serve, to love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
First things…
My wife’s been reading a book called First Things First. It sounds interesting. As she describes the premise, the author encourages people who want to work and live more efficiently or effectively, to reflect on what’s most important to their goals and souls. After all, many issues, ideas, opportunities, burdens waft across our plates every day and offer to stay. We could volunteer. Remodel the kitchen. Go back to school. Write more letters to friends. We could read the Lenten devotional book that Pastor Shane helped write (copies still available!). But we can’t do everything. We don’t have time or energy. We make choices.
The thing is, the author observes, many choices we make don’t align with what we most want in life, what’s most important. Rather, we pick what seems most urgent, go with the apparently immediate needs. Even if those tasks are less critical to our success or long-term well-being, the plate gets full before we tackle the first things. How long has that project remained on the to-do list? How long has that idea floated around, you saying, “Maybe I’ll make it happen when I finally have the time”? Truthfully, we often have the time. We just don’t use it thoughtfully enough. But if we pause, reevaluate what our most important things are versus the simply ‘urgent’ things (like spending time with God, deepening relationships, building skills that bring us joy), going forward we might be better at keeping first things first.
I like that notion. I’m thinking about it this month in honor of Lent. Our theme, you’ll recall, is “Letting Go,” which reflects a frequent Lenten dynamic. People often choose things to “give up” or “let go” so they’ll interact more with the really First Thing- God! You maybe noticed that I’m asking the church, as a worshipping community, to experience that together. Every Sunday, rather than pray the Lord’s Prayer as per usual, we’re praying a communal prayer of confession found in our Chalice Hymnal, borrowed from our Anglican partners. For many Disciples of Christ, of course, weekly Lord’s Prayers don’t occur. After all, traditional Disciples thought recognizes only baptism and communion as irreplaceable institutions. But for many DoC churches, ours included, that’s been a long-standing element. Indeed, since Jesus himself encouraged us to pray it, it might feel like a divine requirement! Ironically, in Matthew 6, where the most familiar version appears, it comes just after Jesus tells his disciples, “Don’t pray in public, grandly, like hypocrites. Instead, pray in private.” That being said, I doubt Jesus would grudge us our weekly public recitation. As long as the reasons we do it accord with his call to holiness, justice and truth.
But is that why we pray the Lord’s Prayer? A sincere desire to connect with God, forgive our debtors, help God’s Kingdom come on earth? Or is it obligation? Filling time? Maybe the comfort of something familiar (which is good!), but devoid of Jesus’ originally intended transformative purpose? Honestly, I don’t know. It may be one, several or none of those options for you; I’m not your heart’s interpreter. Still, it’s so easy in worship or basic Christian living to fill our plates with stuff that, even when important or useful, we just go through the motions.
That’s why I think “letting go” during Lent can be helpful, even if that concept seems odd to you. Intentionally not having something you like or even deem obligatory provides space for remembering why it matters. Obviously, the Lord’s Prayer doesn’t fall into that category for everyone, but it does for some and that’s instructive for all. In a culture that rarely gives up anything it wants, seemingly treats every desire as a need (I wonder how Lent’s experienced in developing countries?), it’s spiritually healthy- maybe essential- to regain perspective regularly. Perhaps letting go of the Lord’s Prayer until Easter will facilitate that for you, not only as regards our worshipping together but even in your life. Have you filled your plate with stuff, obligations, routines and even urgent things that honestly aren’t critical? If so, ask God to help you let go, to keep first things first.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
The thing is, the author observes, many choices we make don’t align with what we most want in life, what’s most important. Rather, we pick what seems most urgent, go with the apparently immediate needs. Even if those tasks are less critical to our success or long-term well-being, the plate gets full before we tackle the first things. How long has that project remained on the to-do list? How long has that idea floated around, you saying, “Maybe I’ll make it happen when I finally have the time”? Truthfully, we often have the time. We just don’t use it thoughtfully enough. But if we pause, reevaluate what our most important things are versus the simply ‘urgent’ things (like spending time with God, deepening relationships, building skills that bring us joy), going forward we might be better at keeping first things first.
I like that notion. I’m thinking about it this month in honor of Lent. Our theme, you’ll recall, is “Letting Go,” which reflects a frequent Lenten dynamic. People often choose things to “give up” or “let go” so they’ll interact more with the really First Thing- God! You maybe noticed that I’m asking the church, as a worshipping community, to experience that together. Every Sunday, rather than pray the Lord’s Prayer as per usual, we’re praying a communal prayer of confession found in our Chalice Hymnal, borrowed from our Anglican partners. For many Disciples of Christ, of course, weekly Lord’s Prayers don’t occur. After all, traditional Disciples thought recognizes only baptism and communion as irreplaceable institutions. But for many DoC churches, ours included, that’s been a long-standing element. Indeed, since Jesus himself encouraged us to pray it, it might feel like a divine requirement! Ironically, in Matthew 6, where the most familiar version appears, it comes just after Jesus tells his disciples, “Don’t pray in public, grandly, like hypocrites. Instead, pray in private.” That being said, I doubt Jesus would grudge us our weekly public recitation. As long as the reasons we do it accord with his call to holiness, justice and truth.
But is that why we pray the Lord’s Prayer? A sincere desire to connect with God, forgive our debtors, help God’s Kingdom come on earth? Or is it obligation? Filling time? Maybe the comfort of something familiar (which is good!), but devoid of Jesus’ originally intended transformative purpose? Honestly, I don’t know. It may be one, several or none of those options for you; I’m not your heart’s interpreter. Still, it’s so easy in worship or basic Christian living to fill our plates with stuff that, even when important or useful, we just go through the motions.
That’s why I think “letting go” during Lent can be helpful, even if that concept seems odd to you. Intentionally not having something you like or even deem obligatory provides space for remembering why it matters. Obviously, the Lord’s Prayer doesn’t fall into that category for everyone, but it does for some and that’s instructive for all. In a culture that rarely gives up anything it wants, seemingly treats every desire as a need (I wonder how Lent’s experienced in developing countries?), it’s spiritually healthy- maybe essential- to regain perspective regularly. Perhaps letting go of the Lord’s Prayer until Easter will facilitate that for you, not only as regards our worshipping together but even in your life. Have you filled your plate with stuff, obligations, routines and even urgent things that honestly aren’t critical? If so, ask God to help you let go, to keep first things first.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
What next…
I’d planned to write another letter this week, began working on it Sunday even. Then I awoke to rare news Monday- that the current occupant of St. Peter’s See has decided to renounce his position as leader of the Roman Catholic Church. Pope Benedict XVI remains living, but will no longer be Pope. This hasn’t happened since the middle Middle Ages. Wild.
So my writing plan changed. I had questions, which may be answered once the news is no longer fresh. Will he return to being Joseph Ratzinger, or does a retired pope retain the title, like former Mr. Presidents? Will he have any leadership role once he descends the Apostolic Throne, or will he move to a monastery? Why did he do it? Is he dying? Is there unseen tension with the Vatican?
As a professional minister, these ponderings are my version of workplace gossip. Not as interesting to others, but I’m titillated! As a Protestant, though, in a church with some critical differences from Catholicism- ordination of women, noncelibate clergy, mistrust of hierarchy, rejection of creeds- maybe it shouldn’t matter to me. That’s their business, won’t affect mine.
The thing is Pope Benedict is the world’s most visible and influential Christian. Plus, not only does he head the planet’s largest religious organization, he’s also successor to history’s most enduring institution- the Papacy. Consider that the British monarchy’s not yet a thousand years old. The Dalai Lama began teaching in the late 14th century. Perhaps I’m forgetting other organizations or offices, but the Bishop of Rome seems unrivaled to me. Of course, some papal achievements may not be worth celebrating or still condoning. Novel ideas like holy war, the One True Church, infallibility weren’t the institution’s high points. Nevertheless, because of past popes’ efforts, whoever succeeds Benedict will instantly become Christianity’s most listened to voice. He may not be respected, or sought after, or wise, but when he speaks, people will pay attention. And many, Catholic or otherwise, will believe he represents all Jesus followers.
In other words, even Protestants have a stake in the Papacy’s direction. We don’t have a say in where it leads, obviously. But it’s still worthwhile to ponder its possible impact on us.
Suppose the new pope is a disaster; unapologetic about clergy abuse, treats other religions as enemies and not partners. The modern papacy retains trappings of medieval monarchs- thrones, palaces, near absolute authority, expensive regalia meant to project power- and some want a doubling down on that outmoded system. I think such decisions would further alienate modern folk from not just Catholicism, but all Christianity.
Then again, others advocate for a dramatic opening of the institution and church- celebrating Catholicism’s vibrant, multicultural growth in Africa and Asia, investing in its anti-poverty and social justice work that basically no one else does so well or has for so long. When Pope John Paul II visited concentration camps and met with other leaders of world religions, interfaith cooperation leapt forward in ways no one else could’ve achieved. I think such decisions could prove healing and invigorating for all Christians.
Now, I’m not a Benedict XVI scholar, but my feelings of him are mixed. Not as reactionary as I first worried, not as open as I’d choose. But this decision to step down, acknowledging his frailty and restrictions, the unique leadership demands the Papacy requires, it seems a decision of humility, of lifting the pope’s work above his prestige. If that’s right, I think it’s wise. For all the office’s grandiose aura, a flawed human inhabits it. And when the Papacy has failed worst is when a Pope acted as if he’s above normal human limitations. Perhaps by so publically acknowledging he can’t do it all, Benedict will re-energize the office’s humanistic elements. That may present other popes with more realistic expectations, open his church to newer ideas and leadership models. Who knows, it may lead non-Christians to reconsider the most attractive claims of Christian faith? That even flawed humans, broken and compromised, can connect fully with our merciful God, can make the world better, can find redemption, can channel divinity.
Just look at St. Peter. He did alright.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
So my writing plan changed. I had questions, which may be answered once the news is no longer fresh. Will he return to being Joseph Ratzinger, or does a retired pope retain the title, like former Mr. Presidents? Will he have any leadership role once he descends the Apostolic Throne, or will he move to a monastery? Why did he do it? Is he dying? Is there unseen tension with the Vatican?
As a professional minister, these ponderings are my version of workplace gossip. Not as interesting to others, but I’m titillated! As a Protestant, though, in a church with some critical differences from Catholicism- ordination of women, noncelibate clergy, mistrust of hierarchy, rejection of creeds- maybe it shouldn’t matter to me. That’s their business, won’t affect mine.
The thing is Pope Benedict is the world’s most visible and influential Christian. Plus, not only does he head the planet’s largest religious organization, he’s also successor to history’s most enduring institution- the Papacy. Consider that the British monarchy’s not yet a thousand years old. The Dalai Lama began teaching in the late 14th century. Perhaps I’m forgetting other organizations or offices, but the Bishop of Rome seems unrivaled to me. Of course, some papal achievements may not be worth celebrating or still condoning. Novel ideas like holy war, the One True Church, infallibility weren’t the institution’s high points. Nevertheless, because of past popes’ efforts, whoever succeeds Benedict will instantly become Christianity’s most listened to voice. He may not be respected, or sought after, or wise, but when he speaks, people will pay attention. And many, Catholic or otherwise, will believe he represents all Jesus followers.
In other words, even Protestants have a stake in the Papacy’s direction. We don’t have a say in where it leads, obviously. But it’s still worthwhile to ponder its possible impact on us.
Suppose the new pope is a disaster; unapologetic about clergy abuse, treats other religions as enemies and not partners. The modern papacy retains trappings of medieval monarchs- thrones, palaces, near absolute authority, expensive regalia meant to project power- and some want a doubling down on that outmoded system. I think such decisions would further alienate modern folk from not just Catholicism, but all Christianity.
Then again, others advocate for a dramatic opening of the institution and church- celebrating Catholicism’s vibrant, multicultural growth in Africa and Asia, investing in its anti-poverty and social justice work that basically no one else does so well or has for so long. When Pope John Paul II visited concentration camps and met with other leaders of world religions, interfaith cooperation leapt forward in ways no one else could’ve achieved. I think such decisions could prove healing and invigorating for all Christians.
Now, I’m not a Benedict XVI scholar, but my feelings of him are mixed. Not as reactionary as I first worried, not as open as I’d choose. But this decision to step down, acknowledging his frailty and restrictions, the unique leadership demands the Papacy requires, it seems a decision of humility, of lifting the pope’s work above his prestige. If that’s right, I think it’s wise. For all the office’s grandiose aura, a flawed human inhabits it. And when the Papacy has failed worst is when a Pope acted as if he’s above normal human limitations. Perhaps by so publically acknowledging he can’t do it all, Benedict will re-energize the office’s humanistic elements. That may present other popes with more realistic expectations, open his church to newer ideas and leadership models. Who knows, it may lead non-Christians to reconsider the most attractive claims of Christian faith? That even flawed humans, broken and compromised, can connect fully with our merciful God, can make the world better, can find redemption, can channel divinity.
Just look at St. Peter. He did alright.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
I, Robot…
Today’s letter is my attempt to come to terms with something crazy. Something wild and totally fascinating, and fundamentally challenging to our faith.
Here’s the basic issue: In the future, we might be robots. Not made entirely of gadgetry like Rosie in The Jetsons, obviously. Probably (hopefully!) not battling manically destructive liquid mercury fake-people, a la Terminator 2. But the prospect of biologically normal humans becoming significantly integrated with electronic and robotic systems- for purposes like regulating organ function, enhancing mental efficiency, supplementing muscle performance (Lance Armstrong will be jealous) - that kind of science fiction future isn’t just a possibility, it’s nearly upon us. And researchers have a name for the moment when the human species overcomes biological limits through robotic technology. It’s called The Singularity. They predict it’ll happen within my lifetime.
I first encountered serious discussion on this topic a few years back, in a book by a Stanford University professor. His is a good school, I surmised, so maybe this Singularity business is more than weird fantasy. Since then, I’ve had several further occasions to learn more, most recently in a great book written by Peter Diamandis (creator of the X Prize) called Abundance. The book is mostly a discussion of amazing technologies currently in development, plus the author’s argument that these breakthroughs- if coupled with sufficient foresight, courage, and compassion- may just make the future more equitable, verdant and incredible than most present day pessimists allow.
And a key component in this, to me, quite compelling argument is that various fields of research may not only change how food is grown (in mid-air, nutrients delivered via mist, row crops stacked vertical inside downtown skyscrapers), minerals mined (on near-earth asteroids, utilizing zero gravity 3-D printers for spare parts, then commencing extra-terrestrial manufacturing), or clean water delivered (mass distribution in developing countries of nano-technology water filtration systems and/or industrial scale salt water desalination). They could also change the very definition of what it means to be human. Forget verse three of ‘America the Beautiful’? Imagine a Google-search implant in your brain, wirelessly connected to the web. Worried about finding cancerous cells forming before it’s too late? Imagine an early warning system that identifies pre-cancerous growths in real time, then alerts your doctor directly. People are working on this stuff. Production time-lines exist, for better or worse. For Christians, then, whose believe fundamentally in the reality of a Creator, and who then profess the blessed claim to be created in that image, what’s the consequence of technology not just unlocking mobile computing or air travel, but fiddling with the building blocks of God’s most spectacular designs?
I, for one, find the notion (mostly) exhilarating. Jesus claimed in John 10:10, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” That’s Jesus’ ultimate hope: abundant life for all life. With these potential breakthroughs, this author suggests, that hope is realistic for the first time in human history. Food, water, health care, education- globally available and affordable. He wisely notes that abundant life for all life isn’t the same as luxurious living all around. It’s one thing to have enough and another to rock a Rolex! Still, the percentage of people living in extreme poverty is falling most everywhere. It’s possible that trend accelerates as technology changes exponentially. Which it is.
Further, I think the basic claim of Genesis 1- that we’re created in the Creator’s image- not only permits us to be constantly inventive, it’s God’s way of pushing us along. We’re intended to be co-creators with God, taking what is already and seeking improvements. If that leads us to use robotics to make aging easier, surgeries safer, brains faster, we’re not eliminating God’s designs. We’re fulfilling God’s promises, right? There are potential downsides and abuses, no doubt, so let’s pray we’re wise! But should it come to pass soon that technology becomes as important to biology as genetics, then let’s also pray we step into that brave new world not with fear, but Hallelujahs. Thanking God for creating us with creative capacity, with brains that dream the impossible, and with spirits who still rejoice in the limitless abundance of God’s grace.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Here’s the basic issue: In the future, we might be robots. Not made entirely of gadgetry like Rosie in The Jetsons, obviously. Probably (hopefully!) not battling manically destructive liquid mercury fake-people, a la Terminator 2. But the prospect of biologically normal humans becoming significantly integrated with electronic and robotic systems- for purposes like regulating organ function, enhancing mental efficiency, supplementing muscle performance (Lance Armstrong will be jealous) - that kind of science fiction future isn’t just a possibility, it’s nearly upon us. And researchers have a name for the moment when the human species overcomes biological limits through robotic technology. It’s called The Singularity. They predict it’ll happen within my lifetime.
I first encountered serious discussion on this topic a few years back, in a book by a Stanford University professor. His is a good school, I surmised, so maybe this Singularity business is more than weird fantasy. Since then, I’ve had several further occasions to learn more, most recently in a great book written by Peter Diamandis (creator of the X Prize) called Abundance. The book is mostly a discussion of amazing technologies currently in development, plus the author’s argument that these breakthroughs- if coupled with sufficient foresight, courage, and compassion- may just make the future more equitable, verdant and incredible than most present day pessimists allow.
And a key component in this, to me, quite compelling argument is that various fields of research may not only change how food is grown (in mid-air, nutrients delivered via mist, row crops stacked vertical inside downtown skyscrapers), minerals mined (on near-earth asteroids, utilizing zero gravity 3-D printers for spare parts, then commencing extra-terrestrial manufacturing), or clean water delivered (mass distribution in developing countries of nano-technology water filtration systems and/or industrial scale salt water desalination). They could also change the very definition of what it means to be human. Forget verse three of ‘America the Beautiful’? Imagine a Google-search implant in your brain, wirelessly connected to the web. Worried about finding cancerous cells forming before it’s too late? Imagine an early warning system that identifies pre-cancerous growths in real time, then alerts your doctor directly. People are working on this stuff. Production time-lines exist, for better or worse. For Christians, then, whose believe fundamentally in the reality of a Creator, and who then profess the blessed claim to be created in that image, what’s the consequence of technology not just unlocking mobile computing or air travel, but fiddling with the building blocks of God’s most spectacular designs?
I, for one, find the notion (mostly) exhilarating. Jesus claimed in John 10:10, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” That’s Jesus’ ultimate hope: abundant life for all life. With these potential breakthroughs, this author suggests, that hope is realistic for the first time in human history. Food, water, health care, education- globally available and affordable. He wisely notes that abundant life for all life isn’t the same as luxurious living all around. It’s one thing to have enough and another to rock a Rolex! Still, the percentage of people living in extreme poverty is falling most everywhere. It’s possible that trend accelerates as technology changes exponentially. Which it is.
Further, I think the basic claim of Genesis 1- that we’re created in the Creator’s image- not only permits us to be constantly inventive, it’s God’s way of pushing us along. We’re intended to be co-creators with God, taking what is already and seeking improvements. If that leads us to use robotics to make aging easier, surgeries safer, brains faster, we’re not eliminating God’s designs. We’re fulfilling God’s promises, right? There are potential downsides and abuses, no doubt, so let’s pray we’re wise! But should it come to pass soon that technology becomes as important to biology as genetics, then let’s also pray we step into that brave new world not with fear, but Hallelujahs. Thanking God for creating us with creative capacity, with brains that dream the impossible, and with spirits who still rejoice in the limitless abundance of God’s grace.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Letting go…
We had a tough January, didn’t we? And I’m obviously talking about more than cold weather. A couple beloved members passed into God’s forever embrace. That’s tough, although I think one of the most sacred things about church is the time we take to honor departed sisters and brothers in faith. From hospital visits and phone calls, to funeral and graveside services, to remembrances on All Saints Day or using Memorial Funds to leave legacies. This matters because I think our culture has a dysfunctional relationship to death. We barely mention it, manically fear it, put dying people into homes and hospitals for few to see.
But as Dorothy Bass claims in her excellent Practicing Our Faith, proper Christian faith nurtures the practice of “dying well”. And by that she means more than going out the most painless way possible. Rather, “dying well” is about preparing for the end, not endlessly avoiding it. Holding a scared friend’s hand as days grow dim, softly stroking her aching limbs. Singing long-cherished hymns with a sister in faith who lost her voice, or a brother in faith who can’t remember anything else. Looking a dying friend in the eye, saying, “Be strong. We’ll meet again.” And meaning it, in Jesus’ name.
Here’s a wonderful poem- Holy Sonnet 10 by John Donne- that’s bounced around my head the past several weeks:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
At a recent meeting, I recited those words with almost defiant passion. After all, these days my spirit’s waters are churning and roiling and certainly far from the stillness of Psalm 23. But it occurred to me just after that, for Christians committed to Christ, we need not defy Death, nor confront that enemy with anger, screaming, “Our God won!” Rather, as Emma Thomson’s character observes in the brilliant film Wit, that last sentence uses but a comma, a short and whimsical pause, almost apologetic: Death, thou shalt die.
You’ve maybe heard by now that I helped write the 2013 Lenten devotional published by our denomination’s publishing house. We have copies in the office, only $3. The book is organized so that every day includes a scripture, a reflection and a prayer, i.e. 3-5 short minutes to start or end your day with divine companionship.
And the theme for this devotional is “Letting Go.” Which makes sense, right? It’s Lent. “Letting go” of many things makes sense during this season especially. Thus, each week the writers reflect on their attempts to “let go” of something- fear, consumption, control, sin, self…control. We chose that notion because the end of Lent, that glorious Easter morn, when Jesus overcame even Death itself, is that wondrous moment revealing to Christians that new life and hope are perpetually possible. And to experience that anew this year, we wanted to challenge Disciples to slough off our baggage, acknowledge what’s holding us back and just let go! So I encourage you to join me in reading that daily this Lent; I plan to gather folk at church each Wednesday of the season (starting February 20, 6 PM) for conversation on what we’re learning. Then, each Sunday, I’ll preach on one of those themes. Given all that’s flooded my (our?) spirit this past month, I’m ready again to let go! To attempt once more to cast myself fully into the eternally supportive love of God.
You should join me.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
But as Dorothy Bass claims in her excellent Practicing Our Faith, proper Christian faith nurtures the practice of “dying well”. And by that she means more than going out the most painless way possible. Rather, “dying well” is about preparing for the end, not endlessly avoiding it. Holding a scared friend’s hand as days grow dim, softly stroking her aching limbs. Singing long-cherished hymns with a sister in faith who lost her voice, or a brother in faith who can’t remember anything else. Looking a dying friend in the eye, saying, “Be strong. We’ll meet again.” And meaning it, in Jesus’ name.
Here’s a wonderful poem- Holy Sonnet 10 by John Donne- that’s bounced around my head the past several weeks:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
At a recent meeting, I recited those words with almost defiant passion. After all, these days my spirit’s waters are churning and roiling and certainly far from the stillness of Psalm 23. But it occurred to me just after that, for Christians committed to Christ, we need not defy Death, nor confront that enemy with anger, screaming, “Our God won!” Rather, as Emma Thomson’s character observes in the brilliant film Wit, that last sentence uses but a comma, a short and whimsical pause, almost apologetic: Death, thou shalt die.
You’ve maybe heard by now that I helped write the 2013 Lenten devotional published by our denomination’s publishing house. We have copies in the office, only $3. The book is organized so that every day includes a scripture, a reflection and a prayer, i.e. 3-5 short minutes to start or end your day with divine companionship.
And the theme for this devotional is “Letting Go.” Which makes sense, right? It’s Lent. “Letting go” of many things makes sense during this season especially. Thus, each week the writers reflect on their attempts to “let go” of something- fear, consumption, control, sin, self…control. We chose that notion because the end of Lent, that glorious Easter morn, when Jesus overcame even Death itself, is that wondrous moment revealing to Christians that new life and hope are perpetually possible. And to experience that anew this year, we wanted to challenge Disciples to slough off our baggage, acknowledge what’s holding us back and just let go! So I encourage you to join me in reading that daily this Lent; I plan to gather folk at church each Wednesday of the season (starting February 20, 6 PM) for conversation on what we’re learning. Then, each Sunday, I’ll preach on one of those themes. Given all that’s flooded my (our?) spirit this past month, I’m ready again to let go! To attempt once more to cast myself fully into the eternally supportive love of God.
You should join me.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Doing ministry,
Today’s letter is different. It’s two extended announcements. Or rather, my attempt to solicit feedback on what you’d like your church to do.
1) Over the past year, we’ve partnered with St. Barnabas Lutheran on the first Wednesday night of each month. Together, the hope was, we’d recruit volunteers to staff IOCP’s foodshelf and thrift store, 5:30-8PM, so they could keep it open later. Other churches took the other Wednesdays.
Since then, St. Barny’s stopped sending their youth, so they’ve had less volunteers attending. Our volunteers have fluctuated, though recently we’ve been absent. IOCP needs 6-8 foodshelf volunteers each time, and 4-5 thrift store. Regulars can arrive by 5:45. 5:30 for training for first timers. If we stick with St. Barny’s, we’d probably need 5-7 each month. If we switched to Thursdays, once a month, as IOCP now offers, we’d need 10-13 (more, yes, but that would let choir folk participate). Or we could decide this isn’t for us.
Personally, I’d like Plymouth Creekers to do more volunteer service together, and more regularly. It helps build relationships, connect visitors, grow in faith. But I don’t know if church members want this too. So will you please tell me whether you’d like to participate in either of those options, and if so, how regularly you could commit? Those who’ve served before have really enjoyed it…just sayin’…
2) In just the past two weeks, we received a neat opportunity. A pastor I know and respect in Des Moines wrote me, “Shane, the family of a young man who grew up in my church moved to MN last year. Now, he’s looking for a church to do an unpaid internship this Spring. He’s a college junior, considering ordained ministry. So I told him about Plymouth Creek. He checked and liked your website. Heads up that he’ll be calling. Btw, I think he’s a wonderful young man.”
Sure enough, we traded emails, then had a video conference interview. I, too, found him bright and delightful. I asked the Board their verdict on hosting him as a full-time intern for two months (April 8-June 2), and they gave an enthusiastic, “Yes”.
What I’d like from the church, then, are your ideas on how to use his time best, particularly helping him understand what effective church pastors need to do. Feel free to send me project ideas, studies you’d attend, invitations to coffee/lunch at your place, whatever! In other words, I’m hopeful you’ll all pitch in somehow to make the experience a success. He’ll be blown away, I’m sure, by your creativity, faithfulness and wisdom!
I also asked him to write a short intro, so you could learn of him firsthand. Here’s what he sent:
Hi, my name is Hayden. I'm a junior at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH, studying Math and Philosophy. I grew up mostly in West Des Moines, IA, but my family, including my parents Dave and Sandy and two little sisters Bailey (13) and Lacey (11), recently moved to Excelsior, MN, which is how I became acquainted with your church! While it may not be clear from my majors, I've been working out a call into the ministry since about my junior year of high school through prayer, some campus ministries, a few classes I've taken, and participation in worship at the church I attend here at Dartmouth. Accordingly, I'm quite excited to start considering that call a little bit more concretely through my time serving at Plymouth Creek, and very thankful for your support in that process. During my time with you all I hope to gain a better understanding of what it's like to be a minister, to continue learning about the Disciples of Christ, and to grow in knowledge of the specific areas of ministry to which God is calling me, whether that be preaching, church leadership, counseling, teaching, or some combination of them all! In my free time I enjoy walking, singing, reading, praying, playing sports, and talking with others. Hopefully we can do some of those things together soon!
Until then, God bless, Hayden
There we have it, your soon-to-be newest intern! Lots of ministry ahead, amen? Good.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
1) Over the past year, we’ve partnered with St. Barnabas Lutheran on the first Wednesday night of each month. Together, the hope was, we’d recruit volunteers to staff IOCP’s foodshelf and thrift store, 5:30-8PM, so they could keep it open later. Other churches took the other Wednesdays.
Since then, St. Barny’s stopped sending their youth, so they’ve had less volunteers attending. Our volunteers have fluctuated, though recently we’ve been absent. IOCP needs 6-8 foodshelf volunteers each time, and 4-5 thrift store. Regulars can arrive by 5:45. 5:30 for training for first timers. If we stick with St. Barny’s, we’d probably need 5-7 each month. If we switched to Thursdays, once a month, as IOCP now offers, we’d need 10-13 (more, yes, but that would let choir folk participate). Or we could decide this isn’t for us.
Personally, I’d like Plymouth Creekers to do more volunteer service together, and more regularly. It helps build relationships, connect visitors, grow in faith. But I don’t know if church members want this too. So will you please tell me whether you’d like to participate in either of those options, and if so, how regularly you could commit? Those who’ve served before have really enjoyed it…just sayin’…
2) In just the past two weeks, we received a neat opportunity. A pastor I know and respect in Des Moines wrote me, “Shane, the family of a young man who grew up in my church moved to MN last year. Now, he’s looking for a church to do an unpaid internship this Spring. He’s a college junior, considering ordained ministry. So I told him about Plymouth Creek. He checked and liked your website. Heads up that he’ll be calling. Btw, I think he’s a wonderful young man.”
Sure enough, we traded emails, then had a video conference interview. I, too, found him bright and delightful. I asked the Board their verdict on hosting him as a full-time intern for two months (April 8-June 2), and they gave an enthusiastic, “Yes”.
What I’d like from the church, then, are your ideas on how to use his time best, particularly helping him understand what effective church pastors need to do. Feel free to send me project ideas, studies you’d attend, invitations to coffee/lunch at your place, whatever! In other words, I’m hopeful you’ll all pitch in somehow to make the experience a success. He’ll be blown away, I’m sure, by your creativity, faithfulness and wisdom!
I also asked him to write a short intro, so you could learn of him firsthand. Here’s what he sent:
Hi, my name is Hayden. I'm a junior at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH, studying Math and Philosophy. I grew up mostly in West Des Moines, IA, but my family, including my parents Dave and Sandy and two little sisters Bailey (13) and Lacey (11), recently moved to Excelsior, MN, which is how I became acquainted with your church! While it may not be clear from my majors, I've been working out a call into the ministry since about my junior year of high school through prayer, some campus ministries, a few classes I've taken, and participation in worship at the church I attend here at Dartmouth. Accordingly, I'm quite excited to start considering that call a little bit more concretely through my time serving at Plymouth Creek, and very thankful for your support in that process. During my time with you all I hope to gain a better understanding of what it's like to be a minister, to continue learning about the Disciples of Christ, and to grow in knowledge of the specific areas of ministry to which God is calling me, whether that be preaching, church leadership, counseling, teaching, or some combination of them all! In my free time I enjoy walking, singing, reading, praying, playing sports, and talking with others. Hopefully we can do some of those things together soon!
Until then, God bless, Hayden
There we have it, your soon-to-be newest intern! Lots of ministry ahead, amen? Good.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
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