I grew up desperately wanting a nickname, and it never happened. Sure, Mom and Dad called me, “Bud,” but Moms’ and Dads’ nicknames don’t count. Sister Shannon dubbed me, “Shane-pole,” in reference to my minute stature. But that was less a nickname then a sibling insult. No matter what I tried- dropping hints, printing names on jerseys- nothing stuck. My barber in Lexington would say, every time I came in the shop, “Hey there, Preacher.” I don’t think he actually knew my name, but it was good enough for me. So feel free to just call me “Preacher.”
Waaay back in the day, there was a theory about naming: a child’s name could predict the kind of person that child would become. So when Isaac named Jacob (which means “supplanter”), it foreshadowed his supplanting Esau, the older brother. In other words, the ancients believed there’s something powerful in the act of naming. Nicknames continue that tradition. My favorite basketball team has a player named DeMarcus Cousins. Teammates say he’s a humorous, kind-hearted guy…off the court. On the court, DeMarcus becomes “Big Cuz,” and Big Cuz is an all-business, rough-playing power forward. It’s like the nickname brings a new personality; it has the power to transform.
Here is the beginning of my post.
Another ancient tradition of naming was that, when you knew another’s name, you held power over that person. In other words, naming has the power both to transform you, or control you. Exodus tells a story of Moses working as a shepherd. One day, he’s out with the sheep alone, when God starts a fire in a nearby bush, and begins speaking, “Moses, set my people free.” Moses says, “Who should I tell them sent me?” God responds, “Tell them the LORD sent you.” “The LORD?” “Yeah, it means, ‘I AM WHO I AM.’” Religious journalist Karen Armstrong contends that’s like a Biblical joke; God telling Moses, “Do what I say; my name belongs to me.” For millennia since, many observant Jews will not pronounce the LORD’s name. For it is so Holy and sacred, and we should never presume to control God.
But whether the faithful would utter God’s name or not, when God claimed, “I AM WHO I AM,” God revealed something powerful. God’s people now had a label to hold onto; God had let down some of the veil surrounding God’s mysterious presence. As Israel’s sages understood, this didn’t mean that everything about the divine was suddenly clear. But they learned it’s in our God’s nature to reveal Godself; God desires to be known. And as the Moses story also contends, in receiving God’s self-revelation, we are liberated, or as Jesus put it, “the truth shall set you free.”
Now I can’t say this from experience, but I imagine that finding just the right name for an expected child is a fun part of preparing for parenthood. What will this name say about my child? Will it inhibit them, or set them free? Will it connect her to her heritage, and still help her feel unique and special? As names are explored, tried on, discarded, traded between parents, they participate in that ageless naming ritual. And even without saying so aloud, we know this act is powerful and profound.
For millennia, the Christian Church has participated in this process. With all due respect for Mary and Joseph’s original decision, we’ve given Jesus many different names- Wonderful Counselor, Righteous Branch, Lion of Judah- and these names shape our understanding of God. Indeed, because Jesus is God’s self-revelation to Christians, how we understand Jesus’ many names impacts the liberating freedom we and our neighbors receive in Christ.
So this Advent, we will explore the “Names of the Expected Child.” Like Mary and Joseph, we’ll prepare for Jesus’ birth by sorting through the many names he’s been given over the centuries. Some will be familiar; some may be new discoveries to you. But they’ve all participated in that basic fact of God’s self-revelation in Jesus- The more we know about the truth of God, the more we, and this world, is set free. That’s what’s in a name when it’s God’s name. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Pray Without Ceasing…
That quote (from 1 Thess. 5:17) was the theme of the 2009 National Council of Churches Annual Assembly, which met in Minneapolis this week. They chose our state because Rev. Peg Chamberlin, of MN Council of Churches fame, is the new President of the NCC. Her charge- Project Minnesota Nice onto a national stage! Well, maybe not exactly… Still, I thought it worthwhile to think about the NCC this week, and especially their Annual Assembly’s theme.
“Pray without ceasing” strikes me as a noble goal, though perhaps unrealistic. Who has time, really, to pray without ceasing? I barely remember to say grace over lunch, or “Goodnight, Jesus,” when I hit the hay. Without ceasing?! Fat chance. But Paul was a smart guy. So presumably, when he wrote those words, he meant something different than, “Speak only and always to God, and no one else!”
It reminds me of a 16th century spiritual classic, Practicing the Presence of God. It’s a small book, and easy to read, so I recommend it to all. What it describes so beautifully is the pure simplicity of God’s grace-filled presence. The author is Brother Lawrence, a French monk of no rank. He wasn’t an abbot, or famous scholar; just a cook in his simple monastery, and a potato peeler. But he understood the depths, and simplicity, of spiritual living. He wrote, “We can do little things for God; I turn the cake that is frying on the pan for love of (God)…It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God…Is it not quicker and easier (to enter God’s presence) just (by doing) our common business wholly for the love of God?” Good stuff. While peeling potatoes, he tried to pray without ceasing.
But even if becoming aware of God’s presence is that simple, simplicity can be hard work. Just ask anyone who’s tried to ‘simply’ her/his life by cleaning out a cluttered house. Simplicity is tough! I guess that’s why Brother Lawrence uses the term ‘practice.’ You don’t get it right away.
This past Monday marked the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I’m sure you saw news coverage. For a people with as long a history as Germans, national unity sounds simple. But we know that tearing down that wall was hard work, for Europeans, for Americans, but most especially for Germans themselves.
I heard about a Lutheran Pastor, Rev. Christian Fuhrer, who ministered in Leipzig, East Germany at the time. He described how, for almost eight years, his church held Prayer Vigils for Peace. They prayed to re-unify their broken country, but to do so without recreating the violence of their country’s recent past, or of their communist authorities. For some time, the state overlooked these Prayer Meetings. But as years went on and pressures, both external and internal, intensified, the secret police increased surveillance. Random arrests would occur outside the church, in an effort to intimidate Rev. Fuhrer to stop. But he posted names of the arrested on the church door, and prayed without ceasing. On October 9, 1989, 70,000 gathered for a prayerful peace demonstration. Police forces assembled to harass and provoke the protestors, but they chanted, “No Violence,” marched to the city center non-violently, and prayed without ceasing. A month later, the wall fell. Rev. Fuhrer describes it as a “miracle of Biblical proportions. We succeeded in bringing about a revolution which achieved Germany’s unity. This time without war and military might.”
When I think about why groups like the National Council of Churches are important, I guess that’s it. When Christians get together to pray and pay witness to God’s love, great things can happen. Walls fall down, families are fed, lives transform. It can be as simple as praying without ceasing. Or more especially, praying together without ceasing. With so much pressure these days for Christians to worship in isolation, or just not believe we can change things for the better, folk like the NCC need to keep working. And praying. Without ceasing. And we should pray with them. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S.- Next Tuesday, the Board meets. If you’ve yet to answer their recent question, “Why does Plymouth Creek need to exist,” please email me by next Tuesday, and I’ll pass your thoughts along. Thanks! Read more!
“Pray without ceasing” strikes me as a noble goal, though perhaps unrealistic. Who has time, really, to pray without ceasing? I barely remember to say grace over lunch, or “Goodnight, Jesus,” when I hit the hay. Without ceasing?! Fat chance. But Paul was a smart guy. So presumably, when he wrote those words, he meant something different than, “Speak only and always to God, and no one else!”
It reminds me of a 16th century spiritual classic, Practicing the Presence of God. It’s a small book, and easy to read, so I recommend it to all. What it describes so beautifully is the pure simplicity of God’s grace-filled presence. The author is Brother Lawrence, a French monk of no rank. He wasn’t an abbot, or famous scholar; just a cook in his simple monastery, and a potato peeler. But he understood the depths, and simplicity, of spiritual living. He wrote, “We can do little things for God; I turn the cake that is frying on the pan for love of (God)…It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God…Is it not quicker and easier (to enter God’s presence) just (by doing) our common business wholly for the love of God?” Good stuff. While peeling potatoes, he tried to pray without ceasing.
But even if becoming aware of God’s presence is that simple, simplicity can be hard work. Just ask anyone who’s tried to ‘simply’ her/his life by cleaning out a cluttered house. Simplicity is tough! I guess that’s why Brother Lawrence uses the term ‘practice.’ You don’t get it right away.
This past Monday marked the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I’m sure you saw news coverage. For a people with as long a history as Germans, national unity sounds simple. But we know that tearing down that wall was hard work, for Europeans, for Americans, but most especially for Germans themselves.
I heard about a Lutheran Pastor, Rev. Christian Fuhrer, who ministered in Leipzig, East Germany at the time. He described how, for almost eight years, his church held Prayer Vigils for Peace. They prayed to re-unify their broken country, but to do so without recreating the violence of their country’s recent past, or of their communist authorities. For some time, the state overlooked these Prayer Meetings. But as years went on and pressures, both external and internal, intensified, the secret police increased surveillance. Random arrests would occur outside the church, in an effort to intimidate Rev. Fuhrer to stop. But he posted names of the arrested on the church door, and prayed without ceasing. On October 9, 1989, 70,000 gathered for a prayerful peace demonstration. Police forces assembled to harass and provoke the protestors, but they chanted, “No Violence,” marched to the city center non-violently, and prayed without ceasing. A month later, the wall fell. Rev. Fuhrer describes it as a “miracle of Biblical proportions. We succeeded in bringing about a revolution which achieved Germany’s unity. This time without war and military might.”
When I think about why groups like the National Council of Churches are important, I guess that’s it. When Christians get together to pray and pay witness to God’s love, great things can happen. Walls fall down, families are fed, lives transform. It can be as simple as praying without ceasing. Or more especially, praying together without ceasing. With so much pressure these days for Christians to worship in isolation, or just not believe we can change things for the better, folk like the NCC need to keep working. And praying. Without ceasing. And we should pray with them. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S.- Next Tuesday, the Board meets. If you’ve yet to answer their recent question, “Why does Plymouth Creek need to exist,” please email me by next Tuesday, and I’ll pass your thoughts along. Thanks! Read more!
Friday, November 6, 2009
One Body…
I grew up Episcopal, as you may know. It’s a neat church, which, if you’ve never been, Robin Williams famously described as, “Catholic Light.” My Episcopal priest buddies, Revs. Callahan and Haverkamp, would laugh at that, and then say, “Shane, there’s a lot more to it.” And they’d be right, but it’s still funny.
I’ve been thinking of them recently, ever since the October 20th developments between Episcopals (aka- the American branch of “The Worldwide Anglican Communion”) and Roman Catholics. The Catholic Church announced it will now allow Anglicans to become Catholic (“enter into full communion”), but keep their churches, Anglican worship elements, even married priests. Also, Rome will appoint permanent leadership for these Anglican-Catholic churches and priests, allowing them to self-perpetuate as Anglicans within the Catholic Church. It’s a stunning change. Some Anglicans claim they’ve waited decades for this; many others feel offended, like another church is ‘fishing in their pond.
As an ex-Episcopal, this interests me more than most. And one part of me dismisses it as a family tussle between estranged siblings. But I’m a Disciple of Christ; my church’s fundamental claim and identity is Christian Unity. We care about other things, of course, but we’d cease being Disciples if we stopped worrying about a unified Body of Christ. So I can’t just ignore this news, which feels like a step away from real Unity.
The background, as the Vatican press release states, is a 16th Century split between Rome and the Anglican Church. Over intervening centuries, there’ve been reconciliation attempts, but no re-merger has occurred. Indeed, many Anglicans/Episcopals enjoy worshipping as they do- outside Rome’s authority and tradition, but grateful recipients of its ancient ecclesiastical wisdom. However, in recent decades, an(other) internal fight has bubbled up within the Anglican Communion, threatening to split the church. I don’t know how Rome responded to such divisions before, but this time it weighed in. It created this ‘Anglican Ordinance,’ purportedly in response to Anglicans who’ve asked, “To return home.”
News reports claim, about the Anglican Communion’s strife, that the warring factions only care about women’s and gay ordination, gay marriage, and abortion. I.e. it’s American Culture Wars, fought globally. And the Vatican’s recent Press Release plays into this narrative by singling out these issues as legitimate grounds for their new behavior.
I find that story incomplete, however, for at least two reasons: 1) Internal dissent and debate have always characterized Christian life together, i.e. these so-called ‘culture wars’ are nothing new or newsworthy; just read 2 Corinthians. 2) These fights are always deeper than one social issue or another, however simple or politically advantageous it is to pretend otherwise. What’s really at stake, I think, is how much freedom people have to follow Jesus in unique ways, and the pressure we all feel from changing cultural dynamics that embolden or threaten our faith and worship. That’s deep stuff! How churches respond to this stuff matters in deep places! So as churches explore evolving strategies for reaching this contemporary world with God’s message of eternal love, it’s no wonder battles lines get drawn, and proxy wars arise. Even Christians, of all ideological persuasions, get tempted to elevate power and control over love and understanding.
But again, I’m a Disciple of Christ. My fundamental conviction is- a) Jesus is Lord, and b) see above. With that baseline, I think Unity is possible, despite ongoing fights, because (Disciples insist) neither you nor I define whose claim of “Jesus is Lord” really counts. Jesus has the final say; we’re simply called to love God and neighbor. So, with all due respect to my Catholic sisters and brothers in Christ, I worry their recent changes harm Christian Unity, by encouraging rivals in another church to abandon each other during difficult times, rather than work for deeper understanding and relationship.
So, given this context, what would it look like for Disciples to work for Christian Unity? No answers today; just questions I find vexing and important. I look forward to your thoughts, whether they agree with mine or not. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S.- Check out Adult SS for the next few weeks; DVD-series of America’s leading “Historical Jesus” scholars! Read more!
I’ve been thinking of them recently, ever since the October 20th developments between Episcopals (aka- the American branch of “The Worldwide Anglican Communion”) and Roman Catholics. The Catholic Church announced it will now allow Anglicans to become Catholic (“enter into full communion”), but keep their churches, Anglican worship elements, even married priests. Also, Rome will appoint permanent leadership for these Anglican-Catholic churches and priests, allowing them to self-perpetuate as Anglicans within the Catholic Church. It’s a stunning change. Some Anglicans claim they’ve waited decades for this; many others feel offended, like another church is ‘fishing in their pond.
As an ex-Episcopal, this interests me more than most. And one part of me dismisses it as a family tussle between estranged siblings. But I’m a Disciple of Christ; my church’s fundamental claim and identity is Christian Unity. We care about other things, of course, but we’d cease being Disciples if we stopped worrying about a unified Body of Christ. So I can’t just ignore this news, which feels like a step away from real Unity.
The background, as the Vatican press release states, is a 16th Century split between Rome and the Anglican Church. Over intervening centuries, there’ve been reconciliation attempts, but no re-merger has occurred. Indeed, many Anglicans/Episcopals enjoy worshipping as they do- outside Rome’s authority and tradition, but grateful recipients of its ancient ecclesiastical wisdom. However, in recent decades, an(other) internal fight has bubbled up within the Anglican Communion, threatening to split the church. I don’t know how Rome responded to such divisions before, but this time it weighed in. It created this ‘Anglican Ordinance,’ purportedly in response to Anglicans who’ve asked, “To return home.”
News reports claim, about the Anglican Communion’s strife, that the warring factions only care about women’s and gay ordination, gay marriage, and abortion. I.e. it’s American Culture Wars, fought globally. And the Vatican’s recent Press Release plays into this narrative by singling out these issues as legitimate grounds for their new behavior.
I find that story incomplete, however, for at least two reasons: 1) Internal dissent and debate have always characterized Christian life together, i.e. these so-called ‘culture wars’ are nothing new or newsworthy; just read 2 Corinthians. 2) These fights are always deeper than one social issue or another, however simple or politically advantageous it is to pretend otherwise. What’s really at stake, I think, is how much freedom people have to follow Jesus in unique ways, and the pressure we all feel from changing cultural dynamics that embolden or threaten our faith and worship. That’s deep stuff! How churches respond to this stuff matters in deep places! So as churches explore evolving strategies for reaching this contemporary world with God’s message of eternal love, it’s no wonder battles lines get drawn, and proxy wars arise. Even Christians, of all ideological persuasions, get tempted to elevate power and control over love and understanding.
But again, I’m a Disciple of Christ. My fundamental conviction is- a) Jesus is Lord, and b) see above. With that baseline, I think Unity is possible, despite ongoing fights, because (Disciples insist) neither you nor I define whose claim of “Jesus is Lord” really counts. Jesus has the final say; we’re simply called to love God and neighbor. So, with all due respect to my Catholic sisters and brothers in Christ, I worry their recent changes harm Christian Unity, by encouraging rivals in another church to abandon each other during difficult times, rather than work for deeper understanding and relationship.
So, given this context, what would it look like for Disciples to work for Christian Unity? No answers today; just questions I find vexing and important. I look forward to your thoughts, whether they agree with mine or not. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S.- Check out Adult SS for the next few weeks; DVD-series of America’s leading “Historical Jesus” scholars! Read more!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Like a blanket…
The other morning, I woke up to a sheet of snow covering the ground. Unexpectedly, I got real excited. It was the first snow of the year, and it wasn’t much. Just a dusting, which by the day’s end had become ground water. But its abrupt appearance made me smile. Not because I love coldness; the snow brought to mind wonderful memories of snowy seasons past (especially on ski slopes!).
All Saints Day is this month, and the Holiday season begins. So ‘memories’ will be a reoccurring theme- in our personal and religious lives together. I wish these memories were all as good as those that recently bounced through my mind. At least in Hollywood’s version of life, Holidays should bring only joy and peace, not heartache and longing. I like that version. But we know that too many Thanksgiving tables will be one person less full this year. Too many parents will see Christmas shopping ads that remind them of a job lost. And the whole idea of All Saints Day is to ‘celebrate’ beloved champions of the faith who’ve gone to their final rest. It’s a joyous service, for many churches, filled with memories of profound legacies left behind. But it’s never just that simple. Sometimes happiness and pain are two sides of the same emotion.
Do you remember the Greek myth of Persephone? The story goes that Persephone was a beautiful young woman, who attracted even the attention of Hades, the reclusive God of the Underworld. Hades, known for neither charm nor gentlemanly behavior, found Persephone wandering in a flower patch alone. So he stole her away to be Queen of the Underworld. But Persephone was, shall we say, well connected. Her mother was Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, and Demeter wasn’t pleased with Hades’ actions. She persuaded Zeus, King of the Gods, to secure Persephone’s release, but Hades’ tricks weren’t finished. He gave Persephone Pomegranate seeds, which, when ingested, linked her to the Underworld forever. She had no choice now but to return to Hades’ side four moths every year, during which time, in protest of her daughter’s fate, Demeter would refuse to let anything grow. Thus, we have winter, and annually Earth enters a cycle of death and rebirth, ‘enacting’ Persephone’s journey into the Underworld and back again.
So please don’t give me pomegranate juice for Christmas. And perhaps take some time, as winter approaches, to ponder the cycles of this life that God still sustains. As leaves fall and snow builds up, it’s obvious how, yearly, Nature moves back around on itself. The church also uses winter’s onset to conclude and reinitiate our yearly cycle, of remembrance and praise. Officially, the Church Calendar ends around Thanksgiving, and our ‘New Year’ begins the last Sunday of November, with the advent of Advent. During this yearly cycle, the same stories are retold, memories of ages past are re-membered.
But here’s the key- Even as we participate in this yearly circle of life and story, it’s NOT the same ritual being enacted year after year. For each year, we proclaim, is one year closer to that glorious time when God’s Reign on Earth will be whole and complete, when all family tables and coffers will be full enough, when “Life” and “Love” replace “Self” as primary values of human society. So while we commemorate stories of God’s faithfulness through time, these stories aren’t told solely to give hope for Spring. Unlike Persephone’s tale, we contend that they way things are are NOT the way things will always be. God remains faithful as the seasons. And that faithfulness helps Christians understand that God won’t be satisfied until all life is valued, redeemed and covered with joy. Christ was born for this.
So as one church year ends, and another begins, recall the stories of saints who’ve come and gone, and of God’s faithful presence through the ages. May that empower us, then, to step forward into the New Year recommitted to God’s Reign and God’s work, so that next year will look a bit more like God’s heaven in our midst.
And don’t forget a coat. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
All Saints Day is this month, and the Holiday season begins. So ‘memories’ will be a reoccurring theme- in our personal and religious lives together. I wish these memories were all as good as those that recently bounced through my mind. At least in Hollywood’s version of life, Holidays should bring only joy and peace, not heartache and longing. I like that version. But we know that too many Thanksgiving tables will be one person less full this year. Too many parents will see Christmas shopping ads that remind them of a job lost. And the whole idea of All Saints Day is to ‘celebrate’ beloved champions of the faith who’ve gone to their final rest. It’s a joyous service, for many churches, filled with memories of profound legacies left behind. But it’s never just that simple. Sometimes happiness and pain are two sides of the same emotion.
Do you remember the Greek myth of Persephone? The story goes that Persephone was a beautiful young woman, who attracted even the attention of Hades, the reclusive God of the Underworld. Hades, known for neither charm nor gentlemanly behavior, found Persephone wandering in a flower patch alone. So he stole her away to be Queen of the Underworld. But Persephone was, shall we say, well connected. Her mother was Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, and Demeter wasn’t pleased with Hades’ actions. She persuaded Zeus, King of the Gods, to secure Persephone’s release, but Hades’ tricks weren’t finished. He gave Persephone Pomegranate seeds, which, when ingested, linked her to the Underworld forever. She had no choice now but to return to Hades’ side four moths every year, during which time, in protest of her daughter’s fate, Demeter would refuse to let anything grow. Thus, we have winter, and annually Earth enters a cycle of death and rebirth, ‘enacting’ Persephone’s journey into the Underworld and back again.
So please don’t give me pomegranate juice for Christmas. And perhaps take some time, as winter approaches, to ponder the cycles of this life that God still sustains. As leaves fall and snow builds up, it’s obvious how, yearly, Nature moves back around on itself. The church also uses winter’s onset to conclude and reinitiate our yearly cycle, of remembrance and praise. Officially, the Church Calendar ends around Thanksgiving, and our ‘New Year’ begins the last Sunday of November, with the advent of Advent. During this yearly cycle, the same stories are retold, memories of ages past are re-membered.
But here’s the key- Even as we participate in this yearly circle of life and story, it’s NOT the same ritual being enacted year after year. For each year, we proclaim, is one year closer to that glorious time when God’s Reign on Earth will be whole and complete, when all family tables and coffers will be full enough, when “Life” and “Love” replace “Self” as primary values of human society. So while we commemorate stories of God’s faithfulness through time, these stories aren’t told solely to give hope for Spring. Unlike Persephone’s tale, we contend that they way things are are NOT the way things will always be. God remains faithful as the seasons. And that faithfulness helps Christians understand that God won’t be satisfied until all life is valued, redeemed and covered with joy. Christ was born for this.
So as one church year ends, and another begins, recall the stories of saints who’ve come and gone, and of God’s faithful presence through the ages. May that empower us, then, to step forward into the New Year recommitted to God’s Reign and God’s work, so that next year will look a bit more like God’s heaven in our midst.
And don’t forget a coat. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Boo…
Sorry to scare you, but I’ve been getting in the Halloween mood. Yes, I have a costume. Or more specifically, a wig. You just may see it again in Halloweens to come. As an environmentalist, I think it’s my duty to purchase a sustainable costume that I can return to. And it’s really a good wig!
Y’all might remember that I attended a Dutch Reformed High School. They had a particular way of celebrating Halloween, and by ‘they,’ I mean the Bible Teacher, Mr. Zylstra. Kids would come to school dressed up, and Mr. Z would excitedly walk the halls, saying, “Happy Reformation Day!” Freshmen would always ask, “What’s he talking about? It’s Halloween.” Seniors would respond, “Mr. Z’s a church history nut.” And the festivities would continue.
Apparently, Mr. Z’s plan worked. To this day, I can’t think about Halloween without saying, somewhere deep within, “Happy Reformation Day! ” So I wanted you to share that joy with me.
Here’s the story of “Reformation Day.” Martin Luther was a 16th century German monk, Biblical Scholar and really intense guy. Really, really intense guy, whose deep spirituality led him to frequent questioning of the religion he practiced, as well as acts of self-mortification. It’s said that once he sat in an ice-cold river for thirty minutes, naked, to punish himself for sinful thoughts and tendencies. Really intense guy. But Martin Luther was deeply committed to his faith. And the more he compared his expanding Biblical understanding with the workings of his church’s bureaucracy, Luther got concerned.
He lived in a northeastern German town named Wittenberg. One day, a man, Johann Tetzel, showed up raising funds for the Papacy’s newest project- the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica. His efforts were in keeping with Church doctrine at the time, which claimed that faith was not sufficient to merit God’s forgiveness (and entrance into paradise), but that good living and faithful support of the Church were also required. One way of achieving the latter was through donations, and marketers like Tetzel would solicit these donations under the term ‘indulgence.’ So if a person bought indulgences, they would help secure God’s favor. But Martin Luther didn’t like this, on social and theological grounds. He questioned the wealthy Pope’s soliciting money from poor people for a project he could fund personally. And besides, the way Luther had come to understand Scripture, it seemed that God, mysteriously, did not require goodness on our part to redeem humanity. God had already done the work and invited us into intimate fellowship through Jesus’ life and death. All we needed was to muster the faith to say, “Yes, Lord. I’ll follow you.”
So Luther composed a list of questions, the famed 95 theses, which laid out his complaints. On October 31st, 1517, he nailed that list to the door of Wittenberg’s Cathedral. This occurred during a time of revolutionary change in communication technology- the printing press had been invented- so within weeks, pamphlets of Luther’s questions saturated Europe. The effect was that people from all over came to share Luther’s concerns about the Church, and the Reformation Movement began, which continues still. Hence, Reformation Day.
To be fair, there’s a LOT more to that story that deserves careful nuance and consideration (i.e. say, “No” to Catholic bashing), but the broad outlines are worth pondering this Halloween. We’re in the midst of revolutionary technological change, and so, like people in Luther’s day, we have remarkable means to communicate bold ideas and form world-changing relationships with diverse people. As in Luther’s day, many fear the disorienting effect these changes will bring. But the deep lesson of Reformation Day, I believe, is that God remains faithful to people who put faith in God, and God will guide God’s people into creative new ways of loving ourselves and our neighbors if we muster the courage of faith to say, “Yes, Lord. I will follow.” So Happy Reformation Day! May you find renewed faith to follow our Lord Jesus, and step boldly into an unknown future secure that the Hand which fashioned this world still holds you closer then you could possibly imagine. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Y’all might remember that I attended a Dutch Reformed High School. They had a particular way of celebrating Halloween, and by ‘they,’ I mean the Bible Teacher, Mr. Zylstra. Kids would come to school dressed up, and Mr. Z would excitedly walk the halls, saying, “Happy Reformation Day!” Freshmen would always ask, “What’s he talking about? It’s Halloween.” Seniors would respond, “Mr. Z’s a church history nut.” And the festivities would continue.
Apparently, Mr. Z’s plan worked. To this day, I can’t think about Halloween without saying, somewhere deep within, “Happy Reformation Day! ” So I wanted you to share that joy with me.
Here’s the story of “Reformation Day.” Martin Luther was a 16th century German monk, Biblical Scholar and really intense guy. Really, really intense guy, whose deep spirituality led him to frequent questioning of the religion he practiced, as well as acts of self-mortification. It’s said that once he sat in an ice-cold river for thirty minutes, naked, to punish himself for sinful thoughts and tendencies. Really intense guy. But Martin Luther was deeply committed to his faith. And the more he compared his expanding Biblical understanding with the workings of his church’s bureaucracy, Luther got concerned.
He lived in a northeastern German town named Wittenberg. One day, a man, Johann Tetzel, showed up raising funds for the Papacy’s newest project- the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica. His efforts were in keeping with Church doctrine at the time, which claimed that faith was not sufficient to merit God’s forgiveness (and entrance into paradise), but that good living and faithful support of the Church were also required. One way of achieving the latter was through donations, and marketers like Tetzel would solicit these donations under the term ‘indulgence.’ So if a person bought indulgences, they would help secure God’s favor. But Martin Luther didn’t like this, on social and theological grounds. He questioned the wealthy Pope’s soliciting money from poor people for a project he could fund personally. And besides, the way Luther had come to understand Scripture, it seemed that God, mysteriously, did not require goodness on our part to redeem humanity. God had already done the work and invited us into intimate fellowship through Jesus’ life and death. All we needed was to muster the faith to say, “Yes, Lord. I’ll follow you.”
So Luther composed a list of questions, the famed 95 theses, which laid out his complaints. On October 31st, 1517, he nailed that list to the door of Wittenberg’s Cathedral. This occurred during a time of revolutionary change in communication technology- the printing press had been invented- so within weeks, pamphlets of Luther’s questions saturated Europe. The effect was that people from all over came to share Luther’s concerns about the Church, and the Reformation Movement began, which continues still. Hence, Reformation Day.
To be fair, there’s a LOT more to that story that deserves careful nuance and consideration (i.e. say, “No” to Catholic bashing), but the broad outlines are worth pondering this Halloween. We’re in the midst of revolutionary technological change, and so, like people in Luther’s day, we have remarkable means to communicate bold ideas and form world-changing relationships with diverse people. As in Luther’s day, many fear the disorienting effect these changes will bring. But the deep lesson of Reformation Day, I believe, is that God remains faithful to people who put faith in God, and God will guide God’s people into creative new ways of loving ourselves and our neighbors if we muster the courage of faith to say, “Yes, Lord. I will follow.” So Happy Reformation Day! May you find renewed faith to follow our Lord Jesus, and step boldly into an unknown future secure that the Hand which fashioned this world still holds you closer then you could possibly imagine. In all things,
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Friday, October 23, 2009
You, you got what I need…
My mother recently reminded me of a childhood experience that I figured you’d appreciate. When I was in sixth grade, I had a rough go of things. Academically, everything was fine (well, except handwriting, which has remained at first grade levels). But otherwise, my school just wasn’t working out. And the prospect of continuing in that school system loomed darkly. Many children in America, of course, expect only bad things their local schools. Too many. But one of the privileges of my life was that my family had the option of enrolling me somewhere new, which they did. It was a God-send. I’d wanted out, and was grateful that Mom and Dad fulfilled that desire.
Fast forward five years, and I’d encountered more turmoil at school. So I wanted out again, and found a program that would let me skip my last year of high school, and get a head start on college. This time, Mom and Dad said, “No.” They didn’t do what I wanted. They said that I needed to stick around, and finish what I’d started. I wasn’t happy at the time. But in retrospect, it was the right decision. The program was expensive. I needed to learn important lessons by staying the course. Fortunately, Mom and Dad understood that what the family needed and what I needed outweighed what I wanted, this time around.
I think God works like that; God looks at people and communities and assesses what our needs are versus our wants. Where those conflict, count on God to implore that we sacrifice our wants for our and our neighbors’ needs. Where those match up, you’ve found what religious sages call, “Vocation.” You might imagine this process of ‘matching up’ wants with needs is entirely natural, no spiritual input needed; a matter of personal introspection coupled with clear-eyed evaluation of the world around you. But religious truth suggests there’s more involved- namely, God’s evaluation and God’s ‘call.’ We religious folk contend that God puts in God’s two cents about which wants and needs are appropriate or complimentary, and that God’s two cents are more valuable than ours. For God sees to the heart of things better than we ever could. So we’d do ourselves well to continually discern what God sees, to listen for what God’s ‘calling’ us to hear, and put those divine suggestions into practice.
What’s true for individuals, in this case, is also true for groups. All groups (families, churches, neighborhoods) have wants and needs, including the need to set priorities or seek creative solutions. Sometimes, we do this very well. Other times, we neglect needs because we’re too concerned with fulfilling our wants. Usually, it’s a mix of both. So regularly evaluating where we’re at, in terms of hearing God’s ideas about our community’s wants and needs, just makes good sense.
The Church Board believes this, and wants all Plymouth Creekers to help out. I asked them a question recently, which I’d been asked by a leader in our denomination, and that I found myself greatly excited to answer. That question was, “Why does your church need to exist?” Provocative, eh? So the Board discussed this, discovered some great insights, and decided we wanted everyone’s input. Thus, last Sunday, and again this Sunday, we’re asking worshippers to write down their best answers to this question, and place them in the Offering Plate (or email me!). You could describe how your needs are met, or how you meet others needs through church, or needs in our community that PCCC uniquely fills. Whatever you see, whatever ‘call’ you’ve discerned, let us know. We’ve persisted thirty years now and counting, i.e. God sees needs we help meet. And the Board wants to hear everyone’s impressions about what those are. In fact, if we’re going to do a good job leading our church forward, we need to hear those impressions. For God doesn’t just call out to one person or another in a church. God is still speaking to all of us. Hopefully, in this way and many more, we can share with each other what we’re hearing. Plymouth needs it.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Fast forward five years, and I’d encountered more turmoil at school. So I wanted out again, and found a program that would let me skip my last year of high school, and get a head start on college. This time, Mom and Dad said, “No.” They didn’t do what I wanted. They said that I needed to stick around, and finish what I’d started. I wasn’t happy at the time. But in retrospect, it was the right decision. The program was expensive. I needed to learn important lessons by staying the course. Fortunately, Mom and Dad understood that what the family needed and what I needed outweighed what I wanted, this time around.
I think God works like that; God looks at people and communities and assesses what our needs are versus our wants. Where those conflict, count on God to implore that we sacrifice our wants for our and our neighbors’ needs. Where those match up, you’ve found what religious sages call, “Vocation.” You might imagine this process of ‘matching up’ wants with needs is entirely natural, no spiritual input needed; a matter of personal introspection coupled with clear-eyed evaluation of the world around you. But religious truth suggests there’s more involved- namely, God’s evaluation and God’s ‘call.’ We religious folk contend that God puts in God’s two cents about which wants and needs are appropriate or complimentary, and that God’s two cents are more valuable than ours. For God sees to the heart of things better than we ever could. So we’d do ourselves well to continually discern what God sees, to listen for what God’s ‘calling’ us to hear, and put those divine suggestions into practice.
What’s true for individuals, in this case, is also true for groups. All groups (families, churches, neighborhoods) have wants and needs, including the need to set priorities or seek creative solutions. Sometimes, we do this very well. Other times, we neglect needs because we’re too concerned with fulfilling our wants. Usually, it’s a mix of both. So regularly evaluating where we’re at, in terms of hearing God’s ideas about our community’s wants and needs, just makes good sense.
The Church Board believes this, and wants all Plymouth Creekers to help out. I asked them a question recently, which I’d been asked by a leader in our denomination, and that I found myself greatly excited to answer. That question was, “Why does your church need to exist?” Provocative, eh? So the Board discussed this, discovered some great insights, and decided we wanted everyone’s input. Thus, last Sunday, and again this Sunday, we’re asking worshippers to write down their best answers to this question, and place them in the Offering Plate (or email me!). You could describe how your needs are met, or how you meet others needs through church, or needs in our community that PCCC uniquely fills. Whatever you see, whatever ‘call’ you’ve discerned, let us know. We’ve persisted thirty years now and counting, i.e. God sees needs we help meet. And the Board wants to hear everyone’s impressions about what those are. In fact, if we’re going to do a good job leading our church forward, we need to hear those impressions. For God doesn’t just call out to one person or another in a church. God is still speaking to all of us. Hopefully, in this way and many more, we can share with each other what we’re hearing. Plymouth needs it.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Friday, October 16, 2009
This I Believe…
If you read the newsletter closely, you know we’re encouraging folk to join a congregation-wide project. We want everyone to write 350-500 words about why Christian faith matters to them.
It’s fashioned after the recent NPR series “This I Believe,” which in turn borrowed the idea from 1950’s Newsman Extraordinaire, Edward R. Murrow. The reason for this project is simple- sharing what you believe is HARD. We learned from reading Unbinding the Gospel that the biggest barrier folk have to sharing faith is finding what to say in the first place. Faith feels too close and personal to put into words. So we’re challenging ourselves to overcome that barrier, using “This I Believe” as a template.
The rules are easy: 1) Write350-500 words about what you believe, 2) Make it a story- not a sermon or list of beliefs, 3) Don’t try to say everything; pick one thing personal and specific. We hope to feature these weekly and anonymously (so don’t be nervous!!). And we pray this practice encourages more faith sharing, fosters greater intimacy in the church family, and helps us, by looking through each other’s eyes, know God better. Our first offering was in last week’s bulletin (Thanks!), and this week’s cWeeksider. But since I’m asking, I felt pressure to add my own:
I believe in mystery. I believe mystery resides deep in the heart of Christian faith. Or at least deep in my heart. It took awhile in my life of faith to make mystery a priority. I guess I once hoped that God could be fully understood, or proven, or held completely in mind. But then I met Dr. Wedell.
Dr. Wedell taught a class my senior year of college called, “The Idea of God.” Our major class assignment was to write thirty pages about what we, individually, believed about God. I’d grown up involved in church, so I thought my ideas of God were pretty well fixed and secure. But when I turned in the first ten pages, they returned covered in red ink. “Have you considered this…,” Dr. Wedell wrote. “I’m not sure that fits with the other thing you wrote.” And so on. It was a massacre. I began again.
Three days before the final paper was due, I walked into Dr. Wedell’s office panicking. We talked through my confused thoughts; I’d become aware, by now, that much of what I once considered certain and sacred now seemed wholly unbelievable. After fifteen minutes, tears began flowing. I cried, shaking with drama and angst, “I have nothing to say about God! I still believe, but have no clue any more who God is.” Dr. Wedell, rather than snidely write me off as a troubled young man, paused thoughtfully. Then he said, “Shane, I wonder if that’s what St. Paul meant when he wrote, ‘We are saved by faith alone.’ Maybe just knowing you have faith is enough.”
Those words suddenly became my words. My prayer. “God, I’m certain you’re out there. I think. Let my silent faith be enough.” Somehow, it seemed, that was enough. It was alright. Maybe it was preferable that I couldn’t prove or fully justify my faith. Faith still anchored me in some deep place. Mysteriously, faith remained my center.
Since then, I’ve learned new words to describe God. They seem adequate, for now. But that respect for the power of mystery in understanding God, which I learned in Dr. Wedell’s office, that remains central. Now I crave experiences when words don’t even pretend to capture everything. When prayer flows with little to no forethought, and becomes quickly overcome by something I can only describe as Spirit. As I’ve reflected more on Dr. Wedell’s Office, it seems like something happened similar to what ancient sages called ‘humility.’ Or ‘the fear of the LORD.’ Something. I’m still learning. But I no longer think one day I’ll finally ‘get it,’ discover the skeleton key. After all, it seems God has touched people all over the world for all time in all sorts of ways. How? That’s the ultimate mystery. I pray for the humility to respect that. Or rather, to celebrate that unbelievably-believable mystery.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
It’s fashioned after the recent NPR series “This I Believe,” which in turn borrowed the idea from 1950’s Newsman Extraordinaire, Edward R. Murrow. The reason for this project is simple- sharing what you believe is HARD. We learned from reading Unbinding the Gospel that the biggest barrier folk have to sharing faith is finding what to say in the first place. Faith feels too close and personal to put into words. So we’re challenging ourselves to overcome that barrier, using “This I Believe” as a template.
The rules are easy: 1) Write350-500 words about what you believe, 2) Make it a story- not a sermon or list of beliefs, 3) Don’t try to say everything; pick one thing personal and specific. We hope to feature these weekly and anonymously (so don’t be nervous!!). And we pray this practice encourages more faith sharing, fosters greater intimacy in the church family, and helps us, by looking through each other’s eyes, know God better. Our first offering was in last week’s bulletin (Thanks!), and this week’s cWeeksider. But since I’m asking, I felt pressure to add my own:
I believe in mystery. I believe mystery resides deep in the heart of Christian faith. Or at least deep in my heart. It took awhile in my life of faith to make mystery a priority. I guess I once hoped that God could be fully understood, or proven, or held completely in mind. But then I met Dr. Wedell.
Dr. Wedell taught a class my senior year of college called, “The Idea of God.” Our major class assignment was to write thirty pages about what we, individually, believed about God. I’d grown up involved in church, so I thought my ideas of God were pretty well fixed and secure. But when I turned in the first ten pages, they returned covered in red ink. “Have you considered this…,” Dr. Wedell wrote. “I’m not sure that fits with the other thing you wrote.” And so on. It was a massacre. I began again.
Three days before the final paper was due, I walked into Dr. Wedell’s office panicking. We talked through my confused thoughts; I’d become aware, by now, that much of what I once considered certain and sacred now seemed wholly unbelievable. After fifteen minutes, tears began flowing. I cried, shaking with drama and angst, “I have nothing to say about God! I still believe, but have no clue any more who God is.” Dr. Wedell, rather than snidely write me off as a troubled young man, paused thoughtfully. Then he said, “Shane, I wonder if that’s what St. Paul meant when he wrote, ‘We are saved by faith alone.’ Maybe just knowing you have faith is enough.”
Those words suddenly became my words. My prayer. “God, I’m certain you’re out there. I think. Let my silent faith be enough.” Somehow, it seemed, that was enough. It was alright. Maybe it was preferable that I couldn’t prove or fully justify my faith. Faith still anchored me in some deep place. Mysteriously, faith remained my center.
Since then, I’ve learned new words to describe God. They seem adequate, for now. But that respect for the power of mystery in understanding God, which I learned in Dr. Wedell’s office, that remains central. Now I crave experiences when words don’t even pretend to capture everything. When prayer flows with little to no forethought, and becomes quickly overcome by something I can only describe as Spirit. As I’ve reflected more on Dr. Wedell’s Office, it seems like something happened similar to what ancient sages called ‘humility.’ Or ‘the fear of the LORD.’ Something. I’m still learning. But I no longer think one day I’ll finally ‘get it,’ discover the skeleton key. After all, it seems God has touched people all over the world for all time in all sorts of ways. How? That’s the ultimate mystery. I pray for the humility to respect that. Or rather, to celebrate that unbelievably-believable mystery.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
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