Friday, February 12, 2016
A Pastoral Letter and Call to Action: Journey to Ferguson
Lent 2015
In the six months following the killing of Michael Brown, an unarmed African American teenager, by a police officer in Ferguson, Missouri, many of us have struggled to understand what we see on television, in newspapers, and through social media and the internet. Not reported or highlighted, is the involvement of churches and communities of faith in meeting the challenges associated with these events. In this time of grief, frustration, and even hope, a number of Disciples congregations in St. Louis and beyond have been faithfully engaging in shared mission, conversations and community fellowship opportunities in response to these events.
Recently, the General Cabinet of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) went to Ferguson, to share in a day-long conversation and dialogue with local Disciples pastors in the St. Louis area. The focus of the visit was on exploring how the wider church can walk alongside our local churches to respond and offer a meaningful and positive Christian witness in situations such as those experienced in the United States in light of the events in Ferguson and other parts of the country.
We lament the recent tragic deaths of young black males in Ferguson, in Staten Island, in Cleveland and in Los Angeles—as well as the killing of two police officers in New York City. In keeping with our commitment to our Pro-Reconciliation and Anti-Racist mission priority, we understand these events as more than simple matters of crime and policing. Through this lens we begin to see that these incidents highlight ongoing inequalities in our society. They serve as a reminder that racial injustice persists much deeper in our common life together than we care to admit. We also become aware of the nature of unconscious bias that shapes the actions of individuals as well as the larger systems of our society in ways that often elude our direct observation and recognition. The sin of racism continues to stand as an affront to the Good News of our faith and as a wound in the heart of our nation(s) and church.
We reaffirm the message from our Disciples Reconciliation Ministry in early January that declared, “What happened on a remote intersection in Ferguson, Missouri on August 9, 2014, was tragic for the community and our nation. The death of Michael Brown and the incidents that followed have opened the door to a conversation for which we can no longer remain silent. Christ is beckoning us to break the silence, and to act in accountable ways toward one another so we can all be set free.”
Our journey to Ferguson reminded us that, as Christians, our focus is on the dignity of all persons—as equal children of God—and the call truly to be neighbors, as reflected in Christ’s charge to his disciples, “love one another as I have loved you.” John 13:34
Growing out of our conversation, we offer the words prepared for a litany responding to the events in Ferguson: “Let us not rush to the language of healing before understanding the fullness of the injury and the depth of the wound…Let us not speak of reconciliation without speaking of how we can repair the breach and how we can restore the loss.“[i]
The season of Lent draws Christians into prayerful reflection, penitence, lament and self-discovery as we focus our thoughts and lives upon Jesus and his sacrifice for the sin of the world. Perhaps, in this season, we might give up our desire for easy prepackaged answers fed to us by television pundits and delivered to us in 140 character parcels. Outside there is a wilderness of mistrust, inequality, racism, and violence that we often ignore or avoid. We remain in our homes; we remain in our churches; we remain in our silos of thought and perspective.
Listening to the pastors challenged us as Disciples. We were moved by the stories of hardship and hope in our conversations. As a “movement for wholeness,” we acknowledge our brokenness, particularly by the sin of racism, and join hands with our members and congregations in St. Louis and across the country who are committed to healing in the lives of the church and community. We urge the Church to deepen its commitment to promote anti-racism through local efforts toward intentional dialogue and action for justice and healing.
We call on all Disciples congregations to reach out in their local communities and become part of the ongoing conversations and actions.[ii] This means we must seek out willing partners in conversation from communities and churches of different racial, ethnic and cultural backgrounds to explore more fully the implications of inequality and racial injustice for our lives as Christians. These sustained conversations must have as their focus the dignity of all persons, and we must commit ourselves to praying together for understanding and healing. Some of us have been having this conversation for a long time; we will need to marshal the endurance to continue it. For others, the conversation will be new, perhaps even awkward and uncomfortable. With the covering of prayer, however, the needed patience and understanding will accompany and effect sacred and productive conversations.
We went to Ferguson not as those who have answers, but to listen and to learn – and, most of all, to seek to understand how we might make an authentic witness for racial justice in our own lives, in our churches, and in our nation and world.
May this Lenten season become for us a sign of the healing love of Christ.
Huberto Pimentel
National Hispanic Pastor
Central Pastoral Office for Hispanic Ministries
Brad Lyons
President and Publisher
Christian Board of Publication/Chalice Press
Gary W. Kidwell
President
Christian Church Foundation
Robert Welsh
President
Council on Christian Unity
Erick D. Reisinger
President
Disciples Church Extension Fund
Ronald J. Degges
President
Disciples Home Missions
Patricia Donahoo
Executive Director
Disciples Women
Julia Brown Karimu
President, Division of Overseas Ministries
Co-Executive, Global Ministries
Sharon E. Watkins
General Minister and President
Todd A. Adams
Associate General Minister and Vice President
Chris Dorsey
President
Higher Education and Leadership Ministries
Gilberto Collazo
President
Hope Partnership for Missional Transformation
Mark D. Anderson
President
National Benevolent Association
Timothy M. James
Associate General Minister
Administrative Secretary, National Convocation of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
Jinsuk Chun
Executive Pastor
North American Pacific/Asian Disciples (NAPAD)
James P. Hamlett
President
Pension Fund of the Christian Church
[i] Dr. Yolanda Pierce, United Church of Christ minister
[ii] For resources or ideas please go to www.reconciliationministry.org
To better understand how we are unintentionally subject to implicit bias – take the online Implicit Association Test at https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/
Read more!
Friday, February 5, 2016
Message from Regional Minister Bill Spangler-Dunning
Disciples Unite!
By Bill Spangler-Dunning
Regional Minister
DISCIPLES UNITE!
As a child it seemed that it was really the same story every Sunday but just with different names and a different group that others were excluding somehow. Jesus would go and eat with them or just drink some water with them and then say something that always sounded to me like the super hero catch phrase - “DISCIPLES UNITE!”
As your Regional Minister I tell you with all seriousness that I still believe in those children stories and ask all Disciples across the Church to Unite! We Disciples don’t often agree on politics, theology, or even on how to set up the tables in the fellowship hall; Let us speak boldly where it is needed but never let the world convince us that just because we hold different positions that the other is evil.
The world really has not changed from the days when Jesus spoke those words I learned as child. Maybe we need to hear them one more time;
Read more!
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Grateful…
I remember conversations in my youth about “what I’d do” when I got older. Some teachers suggested I follow in my father’s footsteps and become an attorney. I said I lacked the appropriate dorsal fin… Bad jokes aside, my frequent response was I didn’t want to because day after day, I saw Dad cooped up behind a desk, writing. Hour after hour. And then more writing. And I didn’t like writing then! Ergo, I was going to medical school, where the skill of one’s writing was measured purely on the badness of one’s handwriting. My handwriting is terrible.
Fast forward to nowadays and Pops has properly razzed me many times since about the fact I write as much now as he ever did! Every Sunday: sermon. Every day: email. Every Monday: this pastoral letter. What’s more, I love doing this! So I’m sorry, Dad. Sorry, that is, about the whole criticizing-writing thing (the law school thing…no offense, but not for me, amen?!).
And you know what the best thing about writing is? When people actually read.
I’ve never said thanks, I believe, to you all for reading and that’s long overdue. Therefore, thank you. It makes this strange weekly routine worth doing. Sometimes you even write back and we discuss things further. Sometimes you’ll say something before service, pointing out a fact or plot point I missed. Sometimes I hear nothing for months until someone brings up a letter topic out of the blue. Even if you’ve just scanned these musings irregularly, it’s greatly appreciated.
This week’s letter, of course, is my last for a while. January 31 will be my final Sunday at Plymouth Creek. I’m very grateful this church gave me space to pursue a (late-blooming) passion for writing. Whether it’s been any good or not, I enjoyed it.
And while I’ve bloviated on many topics, a basic impulse lay behind my writing that I’m not sure I’ve said upfront before, clearly. That is this: You know how in modern America people are really, really good at discussing sensitive, complex issues without getting defensive or screaming or walking away? Wait…we’re actually terrible at that, amen?!
Indeed, we should be embarrassed by the increasing intolerance of our political and social culture with thoughts that aren’t what we already believe, or didn’t emerge from “our tribe.”
I’m certainly not immune from such polarization. Still, I want to be open to perspectives beyond what I find most comfortable or persuasive. After all, God loves each person, I believe, and for good reason. That’s a core conviction I aim to live up to. All have gifts to offer, thoughts and opinions, ideas and dreams, each of which- combined- would create a beautiful whole, if we took more time to listen.
That doesn’t mean we must agree with every other voice, obviously! Some we’ll even rightly call wrong, or bigoted, or worse. Respecting your neighbor’s differences doesn’t imply conforming to their purposes.
But somehow we act like it does, like if I listen to a politician I’ll probably not vote for, God forbid incorporate some of her/his ideas into my own thinking, then I’m selling out. Or empowering the enemy. Or betraying my own.
But that’s not Disciples Christianity. Our faith tradition- at its best- revels in diverse voices. For we proclaim that what unifies us as God’s people is God. Not our beliefs, our votes, our Facebook feeds, our houses or styles of worship even. It’s God’s love. Period.
And that was meant to be the intention behind these writings- Offering thoughts while making space for people who think different to disagree, who understand different to offer wisdom. I didn’t always achieve that, but such was my hope.
Thus, my parting prayer will be that you find further ways to make space for many voices in your souls and daily pursuits. Because life is better for everyone if we treat one another as potential allies rather than likely enemies. Or to use Jesus’ preferred word- “Neighbors.”
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S.- I’ll probably write regularly again at my next church. If you want to keep reading, let me know and I’ll keep your email (or address) for my distribution list. Read more!
Fast forward to nowadays and Pops has properly razzed me many times since about the fact I write as much now as he ever did! Every Sunday: sermon. Every day: email. Every Monday: this pastoral letter. What’s more, I love doing this! So I’m sorry, Dad. Sorry, that is, about the whole criticizing-writing thing (the law school thing…no offense, but not for me, amen?!).
And you know what the best thing about writing is? When people actually read.
I’ve never said thanks, I believe, to you all for reading and that’s long overdue. Therefore, thank you. It makes this strange weekly routine worth doing. Sometimes you even write back and we discuss things further. Sometimes you’ll say something before service, pointing out a fact or plot point I missed. Sometimes I hear nothing for months until someone brings up a letter topic out of the blue. Even if you’ve just scanned these musings irregularly, it’s greatly appreciated.
This week’s letter, of course, is my last for a while. January 31 will be my final Sunday at Plymouth Creek. I’m very grateful this church gave me space to pursue a (late-blooming) passion for writing. Whether it’s been any good or not, I enjoyed it.
And while I’ve bloviated on many topics, a basic impulse lay behind my writing that I’m not sure I’ve said upfront before, clearly. That is this: You know how in modern America people are really, really good at discussing sensitive, complex issues without getting defensive or screaming or walking away? Wait…we’re actually terrible at that, amen?!
Indeed, we should be embarrassed by the increasing intolerance of our political and social culture with thoughts that aren’t what we already believe, or didn’t emerge from “our tribe.”
I’m certainly not immune from such polarization. Still, I want to be open to perspectives beyond what I find most comfortable or persuasive. After all, God loves each person, I believe, and for good reason. That’s a core conviction I aim to live up to. All have gifts to offer, thoughts and opinions, ideas and dreams, each of which- combined- would create a beautiful whole, if we took more time to listen.
That doesn’t mean we must agree with every other voice, obviously! Some we’ll even rightly call wrong, or bigoted, or worse. Respecting your neighbor’s differences doesn’t imply conforming to their purposes.
But somehow we act like it does, like if I listen to a politician I’ll probably not vote for, God forbid incorporate some of her/his ideas into my own thinking, then I’m selling out. Or empowering the enemy. Or betraying my own.
But that’s not Disciples Christianity. Our faith tradition- at its best- revels in diverse voices. For we proclaim that what unifies us as God’s people is God. Not our beliefs, our votes, our Facebook feeds, our houses or styles of worship even. It’s God’s love. Period.
And that was meant to be the intention behind these writings- Offering thoughts while making space for people who think different to disagree, who understand different to offer wisdom. I didn’t always achieve that, but such was my hope.
Thus, my parting prayer will be that you find further ways to make space for many voices in your souls and daily pursuits. Because life is better for everyone if we treat one another as potential allies rather than likely enemies. Or to use Jesus’ preferred word- “Neighbors.”
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S.- I’ll probably write regularly again at my next church. If you want to keep reading, let me know and I’ll keep your email (or address) for my distribution list. Read more!
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Try sometimes…
The foster son and I, on Saturday, waited anxiously for his package to arrive. The weekend before, we’d together shopped for a new PlayStation 2 game. He’d saved some money. He likes new toys. He decided to use his money, therefore, for this purchase.
Upon scouring the interwebs, we discovered websites peddling used PS2 games. One particular super hero title looked awesome. So I explained how internet orders worked, since he’d never done this. We clicked “buy.” What I failed to explain, however, is that mail doesn’t always work as expected. So when 4:00 pm rolled around Saturday, I re-checked the USPS package-tracking website.
It declared that the package had been delivered…at 3:12 pm. That seemed unlikely. At 3:12 pm he and I were sitting at the kitchen room table doing Language Arts practice, while staring out the window. Something had gone wrong.
“Sorry, little dude,” I said. “We’ll have to wait until they open again to figure out what happened.” Then came the inevitable, “But you promised!” Indeed, I had! At least, I’d told him what the website told me, that the package would arrive that day. Consolation couldn’t be had, though, for some time, until eventually we played another game we already owned.
Disappointment stinks. And not just for seven year-old foster kids with unfortunate personal histories. For instance, though I’m patient with things, having long idolized the laid-back, “It’s cool dude” ski bum style, an inner rage volcano can erupt at inconvenient times. Like if, say, I’m watching a Broncos game, and the little guy’s with me, and a Broncos player drops another easy-to-catch ball (for the third time that game!). I have loudly screamed at the screen, forcing T to respond, “They can’t hear you, Shane. It’ll be fine. Bummer; next time.”
By the way, that phrase- “Bummer; next time”- is one we’ve taught for dealing with frustrations. There’s something weirdly gratifying and deeply humbling about a child applying lessons to you messing up! Because, let’s be fair, that reaction I just described was messing up. An adult should keep his attitude in check while watching sports with a growing boy! Disappointment happens. Our responses to disappointment, however, aren’t written in stone. We make choices.
At least, we should make choices. Oftentimes, though, our rage volcanoes, our inner anxieties, our unhealed memories make them for us. We hear news we don’t like, or understand, and rather than calmly investigate or pray, we lash out. We post rash Facebook comments. We look for the nearest Muslim to blame. We stop talking to one another.
By contrast, here’s how Philippians 4:4 suggests we choose- “Rejoice in the Lord. Always. I’ll say it again, Rejoice.” That’s the ongoing response to life Paul counsels; the attitude upon waking and sleeping; the reaction to discoveries and disappointments- rejoicing in God, this God in whom we live and move and have our being, and will for eternity. Life can dishearten. God remains faithful. Therefore, rejoice.
I mention that because I find that my inappropriate reactions to disappointment typically arise because I’ve let my perspective get out of balance. Maybe I’m tired, or not praying enough, or have let secondary loves (like sports) replace primary loves (like being a good example to my foster son). In those cases, choices are being made for me, or I’m choosing based on frustration and selfishness, not hope and love. When we step back, however, our faith teaches that we’re held in a forever embrace by the One who sent Love to die and then live again eternally so that we might be always free…free from sin, from fear, from disappointment. In other words, we have reason not simply to feel joy occasionally. We can rejoice in the Lord, always.
So, this week, ponder that spot of resentment that clouds your heart. Reflect on that person who raises your hackles the moment s/he comes into view. Relive that unredeemed memory that remains painful. Then pray, “God, can I- instead- rejoice in you?” I’m not promising it’ll make everything perfect immediately. But the Lord is faithful. And it’s a fair prayer, in any case. Christ died for you. Rejoice.
Then do it again. Rejoice.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Upon scouring the interwebs, we discovered websites peddling used PS2 games. One particular super hero title looked awesome. So I explained how internet orders worked, since he’d never done this. We clicked “buy.” What I failed to explain, however, is that mail doesn’t always work as expected. So when 4:00 pm rolled around Saturday, I re-checked the USPS package-tracking website.
It declared that the package had been delivered…at 3:12 pm. That seemed unlikely. At 3:12 pm he and I were sitting at the kitchen room table doing Language Arts practice, while staring out the window. Something had gone wrong.
“Sorry, little dude,” I said. “We’ll have to wait until they open again to figure out what happened.” Then came the inevitable, “But you promised!” Indeed, I had! At least, I’d told him what the website told me, that the package would arrive that day. Consolation couldn’t be had, though, for some time, until eventually we played another game we already owned.
Disappointment stinks. And not just for seven year-old foster kids with unfortunate personal histories. For instance, though I’m patient with things, having long idolized the laid-back, “It’s cool dude” ski bum style, an inner rage volcano can erupt at inconvenient times. Like if, say, I’m watching a Broncos game, and the little guy’s with me, and a Broncos player drops another easy-to-catch ball (for the third time that game!). I have loudly screamed at the screen, forcing T to respond, “They can’t hear you, Shane. It’ll be fine. Bummer; next time.”
By the way, that phrase- “Bummer; next time”- is one we’ve taught for dealing with frustrations. There’s something weirdly gratifying and deeply humbling about a child applying lessons to you messing up! Because, let’s be fair, that reaction I just described was messing up. An adult should keep his attitude in check while watching sports with a growing boy! Disappointment happens. Our responses to disappointment, however, aren’t written in stone. We make choices.
At least, we should make choices. Oftentimes, though, our rage volcanoes, our inner anxieties, our unhealed memories make them for us. We hear news we don’t like, or understand, and rather than calmly investigate or pray, we lash out. We post rash Facebook comments. We look for the nearest Muslim to blame. We stop talking to one another.
By contrast, here’s how Philippians 4:4 suggests we choose- “Rejoice in the Lord. Always. I’ll say it again, Rejoice.” That’s the ongoing response to life Paul counsels; the attitude upon waking and sleeping; the reaction to discoveries and disappointments- rejoicing in God, this God in whom we live and move and have our being, and will for eternity. Life can dishearten. God remains faithful. Therefore, rejoice.
I mention that because I find that my inappropriate reactions to disappointment typically arise because I’ve let my perspective get out of balance. Maybe I’m tired, or not praying enough, or have let secondary loves (like sports) replace primary loves (like being a good example to my foster son). In those cases, choices are being made for me, or I’m choosing based on frustration and selfishness, not hope and love. When we step back, however, our faith teaches that we’re held in a forever embrace by the One who sent Love to die and then live again eternally so that we might be always free…free from sin, from fear, from disappointment. In other words, we have reason not simply to feel joy occasionally. We can rejoice in the Lord, always.
So, this week, ponder that spot of resentment that clouds your heart. Reflect on that person who raises your hackles the moment s/he comes into view. Relive that unredeemed memory that remains painful. Then pray, “God, can I- instead- rejoice in you?” I’m not promising it’ll make everything perfect immediately. But the Lord is faithful. And it’s a fair prayer, in any case. Christ died for you. Rejoice.
Then do it again. Rejoice.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Be prepared…
Forgive me. I’ve written about underwear; the long version, and how last Monday- our first real Arctic weekday this winter- I forgot mine and my foster son’s. It was a rookie mistake from a man in his eighth year of Minnesota cold. Oops…
The oversight began with the boy waking up later than normal, which was fine since extra sleep at his age is precious. Still, the school bus was nearing. We quickly dressed, brushed teeth and got shoes/coat on. Then, we waited, while I silently high-fived myself for finishing morning routine swiftly. The bus came. Little guy left.
And as I walked away from the door, I checked my phone’s weather app. The screen read: -6 degrees. “Welcome back Arctic Air,” I thought. “You’ve stayed away longer than normal this winter.” I mean, seriously, we made it into January with barely a day below thirty! Counting my blessings, I smiled. Until it hit me…I’d sent the kid to school without long johns.
That wasn’t an immediate problem, thankfully. For now, he’d only be outside long enough to get into and out of a warm bus/school room. But they might do outside recess. What if there’s a fire drill? When the temperature’s 30 degrees and your foster kid essentially has an internal biological fireplace (seriously, it’s amazing how constantly warm the little dude is!), it’s no big deal that he’s not wearing long underwear. He’s got a hat, a warm coat, gloves. Thirty degrees and Arctic Weather, though, aren’t similar weather conditions. I knew this day should’ve been different. I should’ve been ready. I rapidly dressed and drove to his school, long johns in hand.
Funny enough, after three miles, I noticed a chill and realized that in my haste to take T his forgotten clothing, I’d failed to don my own set! For shame, Shane. For shame.
Have you noticed that Lent and Easter are early this year? So it seems to me. Lent begins February 10. We celebrate Easter on March 27. Thus, unless you’re already paying attention, Lent could arrive soon and you’ll feel unprepared for this season of spiritual renewal.
I hope that doesn’t happen for any of us. After all, it’s nice to take advantage of Lent, mainly because we regularly get out of practice with certain things regarding faith, don’t we? During “Ordinary Time” (i.e. not holidays or holy seasons), our prayers become more infrequent or distracted. Our patience isn’t as full and kind as it should be. Our anxieties overwhelm our serenity.
Part of that’s just being human. Part of that’s our culture. Whatever the reason, The Church in its wisdom, centuries ago, declared an annual period of spiritual refreshment- Lent- knowing that the burdens of daily life can habituate us away from our best selves.
Let me describe this personally. Occasionally, yet consistently, I will notice how my spiritual focus has wavered without even intending so. It’s like I know I should’ve put on “spiritual long johns” to keep warm from the insulation of Christ’s love (…strange metaphor…just work me…). But I’ll have become distracted by the stress of schedules, the shame over weight gain, the confusion about effective parenting, the joy of following the Broncos more closely than I ought. Some of that- especially the parenting- includes prayer and God, but not as much as would be best, unless I’m making a conscious effort. Without such effort, I get used to less engaged spirituality.
Lent, then, is a time to hit reset, to shock my system into restoring balance between devotion and daily pursuits. I’ll give up something, or take up a new spiritual practice, in order to warm and energize my soul. The question is whether we’ll be ready once the season fully arrives. Given that it’s approaching quickly (and we’ve been focused on other, pressing, important things), I wouldn’t be shocked if it hasn’t crossed your mind yet. That’s been true for me. But I know I don’t want to neglect Lent. Because my life is colder without Christ’s presence. So I’m hoping to prepare, in the next week, to greet its arrival feeling organized and excited. Feel free to join me!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
The oversight began with the boy waking up later than normal, which was fine since extra sleep at his age is precious. Still, the school bus was nearing. We quickly dressed, brushed teeth and got shoes/coat on. Then, we waited, while I silently high-fived myself for finishing morning routine swiftly. The bus came. Little guy left.
And as I walked away from the door, I checked my phone’s weather app. The screen read: -6 degrees. “Welcome back Arctic Air,” I thought. “You’ve stayed away longer than normal this winter.” I mean, seriously, we made it into January with barely a day below thirty! Counting my blessings, I smiled. Until it hit me…I’d sent the kid to school without long johns.
That wasn’t an immediate problem, thankfully. For now, he’d only be outside long enough to get into and out of a warm bus/school room. But they might do outside recess. What if there’s a fire drill? When the temperature’s 30 degrees and your foster kid essentially has an internal biological fireplace (seriously, it’s amazing how constantly warm the little dude is!), it’s no big deal that he’s not wearing long underwear. He’s got a hat, a warm coat, gloves. Thirty degrees and Arctic Weather, though, aren’t similar weather conditions. I knew this day should’ve been different. I should’ve been ready. I rapidly dressed and drove to his school, long johns in hand.
Funny enough, after three miles, I noticed a chill and realized that in my haste to take T his forgotten clothing, I’d failed to don my own set! For shame, Shane. For shame.
Have you noticed that Lent and Easter are early this year? So it seems to me. Lent begins February 10. We celebrate Easter on March 27. Thus, unless you’re already paying attention, Lent could arrive soon and you’ll feel unprepared for this season of spiritual renewal.
I hope that doesn’t happen for any of us. After all, it’s nice to take advantage of Lent, mainly because we regularly get out of practice with certain things regarding faith, don’t we? During “Ordinary Time” (i.e. not holidays or holy seasons), our prayers become more infrequent or distracted. Our patience isn’t as full and kind as it should be. Our anxieties overwhelm our serenity.
Part of that’s just being human. Part of that’s our culture. Whatever the reason, The Church in its wisdom, centuries ago, declared an annual period of spiritual refreshment- Lent- knowing that the burdens of daily life can habituate us away from our best selves.
Let me describe this personally. Occasionally, yet consistently, I will notice how my spiritual focus has wavered without even intending so. It’s like I know I should’ve put on “spiritual long johns” to keep warm from the insulation of Christ’s love (…strange metaphor…just work me…). But I’ll have become distracted by the stress of schedules, the shame over weight gain, the confusion about effective parenting, the joy of following the Broncos more closely than I ought. Some of that- especially the parenting- includes prayer and God, but not as much as would be best, unless I’m making a conscious effort. Without such effort, I get used to less engaged spirituality.
Lent, then, is a time to hit reset, to shock my system into restoring balance between devotion and daily pursuits. I’ll give up something, or take up a new spiritual practice, in order to warm and energize my soul. The question is whether we’ll be ready once the season fully arrives. Given that it’s approaching quickly (and we’ve been focused on other, pressing, important things), I wouldn’t be shocked if it hasn’t crossed your mind yet. That’s been true for me. But I know I don’t want to neglect Lent. Because my life is colder without Christ’s presence. So I’m hoping to prepare, in the next week, to greet its arrival feeling organized and excited. Feel free to join me!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Gratitude…
My wife read an article over the weekend that sparked off a good conversation. From what she said, the author took to task an idea that seems, at face value, uncontroversial: The notion we should all actively cultivate an attitude of gratitude.
“Well, that’s just crazy,” I initially thought as Tabitha described the argument. After all, our church’s 2010 Thanksgiving focus was…Attitude of Gratitude. And I remember being quite proud of what we did in discussing said attitude for several weeks, praying for it, developing ideas for including more gratefulness into our routines. All that led to a successful collection of food and funds for people in need on Thanksgiving Sunday.
So what’s wrong with an attitude of gratitude?! “Honey,” I therefore considering saying, “You’re wrong!” Fortunately, I didn’t butt in immediately (this time) and let her finish. Turns out that the article didn’t critique thankfulness, per se. Rather, its target was a certain version of gratitude cultivation that’s become a bit too common in our culture.
And that is the use of gratitude to make us happy.
I’m sure you’ve heard a version of the following self-help advice: Instead of spending mental energy cataloging what you don’t have or why you’re upset, count your blessings and meditate on what you do have and why you’re grateful. That’s mostly good advice, I think. In fact, just last week I read another article that included gratitude in a list of health essentials. Alongside sleep, good eating and exercise, it counseled weekly time “contemplating what you’re thankful for.” That- it claimed- improves blood flow, energy and positive self-regard, all of which is apparently what we need to be happy over the long-term. And that’s our ultimate goal, isn’t it? Happiness…?
Well, sure. But not really. At least not exclusively, right? As Christians, Christ said to pray for “God’s Kingdom come on earth” (i.e. God’s reign of love and justice to rule in our lives and societies). Notably, that’s a prayer for not individual, but collective salvation.
In other words, focusing on our own happiness isn’t a bad thing; it’s just not the only thing. Indeed, the main thing for Jesus was that all life- including you!- have enough to live abundantly (John 10:10). Which isn’t the same as living luxuriously. But rather, that we a) yes, focus on blessings we have without obsessing over what we lack, yet also b) ensure that those who aren’t sharing in the world’s abundance get what they deserve as God’s beloved children.
Put plainly, an attitude of gratitude that’s solely concerned with what you have verges on selfishness. Which is ironic, since thankfulness done right should increase a person’s humility, amen?! It ought remind us of all the ways we’re dependent on others, on God, on luck for what gives us sustenance, what provides us joy. In turn, we should be more willing to share what we have since it isn’t all ours anyway. Our lives, rather, are gifts; from our ancestors, our neighbors, our Creator. As such, God calls us to be gifts to others, to be Jesus’ hands and feet.
So here’s my suggestion for cultivating a proper attitude of gratitude: Count your blessings while also thinking of others who could really use your time, your influence, your commitment so they don’t starve, so they’re less oppressed, so they’re not kept from their divine birthright of abundance.
Gratitude without compassion is vanity. But gratitude-inspired action has a staying power that just feeling bad for another’s plight can’t match. After all, if you’re regularly reminding yourself that- thankfully, by God’s grace- you have enough, you’re less likely to hoard your stuff or spend all your time keeping others away. Instead, you’ll stick beside a friend, say, as she slogs through another chemo treatment, or help a neighbor for the seventh time get back on his feet. Because that’s what grateful Christians do. We find happiness in helping others, in building the Kingdom of God.
How we each make that work, of course, depends on our unique situations. But I hope you’ll pray about, this week, using what you’re grateful for to make more a difference others.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
“Well, that’s just crazy,” I initially thought as Tabitha described the argument. After all, our church’s 2010 Thanksgiving focus was…Attitude of Gratitude. And I remember being quite proud of what we did in discussing said attitude for several weeks, praying for it, developing ideas for including more gratefulness into our routines. All that led to a successful collection of food and funds for people in need on Thanksgiving Sunday.
So what’s wrong with an attitude of gratitude?! “Honey,” I therefore considering saying, “You’re wrong!” Fortunately, I didn’t butt in immediately (this time) and let her finish. Turns out that the article didn’t critique thankfulness, per se. Rather, its target was a certain version of gratitude cultivation that’s become a bit too common in our culture.
And that is the use of gratitude to make us happy.
I’m sure you’ve heard a version of the following self-help advice: Instead of spending mental energy cataloging what you don’t have or why you’re upset, count your blessings and meditate on what you do have and why you’re grateful. That’s mostly good advice, I think. In fact, just last week I read another article that included gratitude in a list of health essentials. Alongside sleep, good eating and exercise, it counseled weekly time “contemplating what you’re thankful for.” That- it claimed- improves blood flow, energy and positive self-regard, all of which is apparently what we need to be happy over the long-term. And that’s our ultimate goal, isn’t it? Happiness…?
Well, sure. But not really. At least not exclusively, right? As Christians, Christ said to pray for “God’s Kingdom come on earth” (i.e. God’s reign of love and justice to rule in our lives and societies). Notably, that’s a prayer for not individual, but collective salvation.
In other words, focusing on our own happiness isn’t a bad thing; it’s just not the only thing. Indeed, the main thing for Jesus was that all life- including you!- have enough to live abundantly (John 10:10). Which isn’t the same as living luxuriously. But rather, that we a) yes, focus on blessings we have without obsessing over what we lack, yet also b) ensure that those who aren’t sharing in the world’s abundance get what they deserve as God’s beloved children.
Put plainly, an attitude of gratitude that’s solely concerned with what you have verges on selfishness. Which is ironic, since thankfulness done right should increase a person’s humility, amen?! It ought remind us of all the ways we’re dependent on others, on God, on luck for what gives us sustenance, what provides us joy. In turn, we should be more willing to share what we have since it isn’t all ours anyway. Our lives, rather, are gifts; from our ancestors, our neighbors, our Creator. As such, God calls us to be gifts to others, to be Jesus’ hands and feet.
So here’s my suggestion for cultivating a proper attitude of gratitude: Count your blessings while also thinking of others who could really use your time, your influence, your commitment so they don’t starve, so they’re less oppressed, so they’re not kept from their divine birthright of abundance.
Gratitude without compassion is vanity. But gratitude-inspired action has a staying power that just feeling bad for another’s plight can’t match. After all, if you’re regularly reminding yourself that- thankfully, by God’s grace- you have enough, you’re less likely to hoard your stuff or spend all your time keeping others away. Instead, you’ll stick beside a friend, say, as she slogs through another chemo treatment, or help a neighbor for the seventh time get back on his feet. Because that’s what grateful Christians do. We find happiness in helping others, in building the Kingdom of God.
How we each make that work, of course, depends on our unique situations. But I hope you’ll pray about, this week, using what you’re grateful for to make more a difference others.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Renewal…
I’m writing this after Christmas, at my in-law’s farm in Mississippi. And I just learned that they recently invited bees onto their farm. A neighbor who’s getting into that industry asked to use their land. They said fine. And their explanation of the bees’ impact reminded me of Jesus.
Here’s what I mean. Initially, the farm’s focus was beef. More specifically, they raise grass-fed cows who aren’t pumped full of antibiotics and unnatural chemicals. Plus, they allow their cattle to roam freely across their ample pasture land. In other words, it’s an operation that shames most grocery store beef, whose cows may start on farms like these, but eventually are packed into overstuffed feed lots and industrial slaughter machines.
Not an ideal cow life, to say the (very, very) least. It’s also terrible for soil. When cow farmers pump pastures with extra fertilizers and herbicides, they boost production over the short term. It also kills the soil’s long-term viability; by encouraging shallower grass roots, destroying diversity of bugs and microbes, stripping away beautiful black topsoil. Plus, when rain washes those ugly, artificial inputs into our groundwater, it poisons ecosystems down river. Anyone hear about how diminished ocean life has become in vast swaths around where the Mississippi drains into the Gulf? Ugh.
So my in-laws’ farm is intentionally planned to behave differently- more local, more attuned to older/wiser/pre-industrial farming practices, more respectful of the health of both nature and beef customers. Besides, their meat tastes waaaay better! I’ve looked forward for years to packing a cooler full of their steaks and burger meat right before we return home after Christmas.
But cows aren’t the only commercially useful farm animals, of course. So a few years back, they lent some unused land to an organic hog and chicken farmer. Then, they integrated both operations into each other. The chickens run around on the cattle pasture, movable fences keeping them away from steers. Every few days, that set-up shifts a bit north or east, and the chickens peck at and poop on new parts of the pasture. That natural fertilizer beats any petroleum-based product eight days a week. It just takes patience and time, and respect for the earth. The result has been healthier creatures and farmland.
Hence, when another neighbor brought up bringing bees to the farm- for honey production- the in-laws said, “Alright.” And apparently, those bees then spent all last summer pollinating garden flowers and pasture grass. They flew all over where cows and chickens went already, or were going next. The results were even deeper roots, increased biodiversity, and much healthier soil. In fact, a Mississippi State University researcher has been studying their farm. He claims that within two years, it’ll be a carbon neutral, profitable operation. Awesome!
All that reminds me of Jesus because, as a Disciple of Christ, I believe the church’s essential function is inviting as many as possible to the Lord’s Table. That table’ open, after all, to all. God so loved the (whole!) world…etc. Thus, we’re called to make that blessed mission a reality at our communion table.
But here’s the thing; God didn’t give us that calling as a burden. Instead, God knew that the more people we welcomed and kept at our tables, the better our communities would be. Like the soil on a farm, diversity is the source of health, of blessing, not a distraction or an optional aspiration.
Would only that all churches believed the same, amen? Or acted like it… Would that we didn’t spend all our time reaching out to only those who think or look like us, who make the same amount of money or share the same political opinion as us? Have you considered recently that if you found ways to bring folk to church who other churches aren’t working to include, the result won’t be embarrassing? It’ll be unexpected blessing, more healthful community, more diverse and- therefore- exciting church!
That’s what those bees did on my in-laws farm, at least. It’s a brighter, better, more beautiful place now than before. And it’ll share those blessings for generations to come. Jesus, I bet, approves.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Here’s what I mean. Initially, the farm’s focus was beef. More specifically, they raise grass-fed cows who aren’t pumped full of antibiotics and unnatural chemicals. Plus, they allow their cattle to roam freely across their ample pasture land. In other words, it’s an operation that shames most grocery store beef, whose cows may start on farms like these, but eventually are packed into overstuffed feed lots and industrial slaughter machines.
Not an ideal cow life, to say the (very, very) least. It’s also terrible for soil. When cow farmers pump pastures with extra fertilizers and herbicides, they boost production over the short term. It also kills the soil’s long-term viability; by encouraging shallower grass roots, destroying diversity of bugs and microbes, stripping away beautiful black topsoil. Plus, when rain washes those ugly, artificial inputs into our groundwater, it poisons ecosystems down river. Anyone hear about how diminished ocean life has become in vast swaths around where the Mississippi drains into the Gulf? Ugh.
So my in-laws’ farm is intentionally planned to behave differently- more local, more attuned to older/wiser/pre-industrial farming practices, more respectful of the health of both nature and beef customers. Besides, their meat tastes waaaay better! I’ve looked forward for years to packing a cooler full of their steaks and burger meat right before we return home after Christmas.
But cows aren’t the only commercially useful farm animals, of course. So a few years back, they lent some unused land to an organic hog and chicken farmer. Then, they integrated both operations into each other. The chickens run around on the cattle pasture, movable fences keeping them away from steers. Every few days, that set-up shifts a bit north or east, and the chickens peck at and poop on new parts of the pasture. That natural fertilizer beats any petroleum-based product eight days a week. It just takes patience and time, and respect for the earth. The result has been healthier creatures and farmland.
Hence, when another neighbor brought up bringing bees to the farm- for honey production- the in-laws said, “Alright.” And apparently, those bees then spent all last summer pollinating garden flowers and pasture grass. They flew all over where cows and chickens went already, or were going next. The results were even deeper roots, increased biodiversity, and much healthier soil. In fact, a Mississippi State University researcher has been studying their farm. He claims that within two years, it’ll be a carbon neutral, profitable operation. Awesome!
All that reminds me of Jesus because, as a Disciple of Christ, I believe the church’s essential function is inviting as many as possible to the Lord’s Table. That table’ open, after all, to all. God so loved the (whole!) world…etc. Thus, we’re called to make that blessed mission a reality at our communion table.
But here’s the thing; God didn’t give us that calling as a burden. Instead, God knew that the more people we welcomed and kept at our tables, the better our communities would be. Like the soil on a farm, diversity is the source of health, of blessing, not a distraction or an optional aspiration.
Would only that all churches believed the same, amen? Or acted like it… Would that we didn’t spend all our time reaching out to only those who think or look like us, who make the same amount of money or share the same political opinion as us? Have you considered recently that if you found ways to bring folk to church who other churches aren’t working to include, the result won’t be embarrassing? It’ll be unexpected blessing, more healthful community, more diverse and- therefore- exciting church!
That’s what those bees did on my in-laws farm, at least. It’s a brighter, better, more beautiful place now than before. And it’ll share those blessings for generations to come. Jesus, I bet, approves.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
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