We’ve all heard of things happening that, yeah, sure, whatever, it must happen somewhere, to someone- lucky gal- but it never, ever happens to me! Harrumph. Like winning the lottery. Inheriting a Caribbean island from a long-lost uncle. Getting picked for Survivor. Well, I’m proud to inform you- and please don’t take this as gloating- something like that finally happened to me!
Here’s what went down. Recently, my wife and I were on a midweek date. We’d purchased a Groupon coupon for a joint called Pizza Mia. $15 for $30 worth of food. Not too shabby, right? Anyway, there we were, talking about work, family, the incredible goings-on in Egypt and all the stuff you talk about over dinner. The waiter brought our food. We bowed our heads in thankful prayer. Food started disappearing off our plates, into our bellies, when suddenly, this random guy walked up to us. “Hi,” he said smiling, obviously another satisfied customer on his way out the door, “I just wanted to tell you how much your prayer blessed me.” “Huh. Thanks,” we said, “We’re glad!” He shook our hands and left.
Unexpected interruption, certainly, but quite nice, right? We smiled at each other, said, “How cool,” and continued our meal. As it ended, we gave the coupon to the waiter and asked for the check. But he hesitated, like he was searching for words. I thought, “How hard can it be to say, ‘Yes, I’ll get your check’…” Then it happened, that thing that never happens to me- He said, “Actually, your check has already been paid for.” “What?!” we responded, “Even the tip?!” “Yep, another customer took care of everything. Have a nice night.” I looked at Tabitha shocked. She reciprocated, then broke into a grin. “I bet I know who did that,” she said. “I bet I do too…”
I’ve heard many a people over the years pontificate about the power of prayer. Sometimes they say profound things. Sometimes it’s more about what they hope is true regarding prayer, than what’s theologically justifiable. Apparently, though, they are sometimes unintended, unexpected benefits of prayer, as my dinner check example means to illustrate. It was, of course, a completely random act; whether we said something the guy liked, or he was simply moved by witnessing two young adults with heads bowed in public, I’ll never know. I.e. God wasn’t rewarding us for a prayer well prayed! Still, have you taken time recently to consider the side effects of prayer?
I frame the question that way because we probably think the primary effects of prayer are that, well, we get what we pray for. Take my example- I prayed, “God, bless this food and the hands that prepared it, so we may be stewards of their and all your gifts.” Did God actually give that blessing? I got a reduced cost meal, but I’ve prayed that prayer many times without that result. Besides, I asked for a food blessing and got something else. Or when we pray the Lord’s Prayer, “Thy Kingdom come on earth.” Does that happen?
...Yes, I think it does. But I wonder if we’re often not expecting the answer we get. We pray, “God, bless this food,” or, “Thy Kingdom come on earth,” and while we may mean many different things by that, we should always also intend this - That we’ll feel, in our midst, even if for just that moment, God’s goodness and presence. Food being blessed, God’s Kingdom coming on earth, one way to define those prayers is that we experience- spiritually, emotionally, physically- the reality of our loving God, who wants to provide our every need. And when you ask God for those things, you intentionally put yourself in God’s presence. Meaning- You’re receiving the primary effect of your prayer as you pray. If you’re paying attention, that is.
So back to the original question, “What are the side effects of prayer?” I’ll get into that next week; space has run out! But send me your thoughts, take time to pray, and then recall that the most popular mantra (a Hindu and Buddhist prayer-like tradition) in the world is…Ohm. Which means,
Peace,
Shane
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Thursday, February 17, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Shared experience…
Last week, I heard someone suggest the following- In American culture, the last great shared cultural experience we have is the Super Bowl. Love or hate football, nevertheless the Super Bowl touches most of our lives. More than that, a majority of our culture, representing all kinds of sub-groups with little in common, will join in watching this game. The Oscars no longer draw large amounts of interested spectators. Musicians nowadays don’t gain the iconic status of previous performers. And church, well, I’m not sure that was ever a ‘broadly shared cultural experience,’ whatever we pastors tell ourselves about the ‘good ole days’! But hey, there’s still the Super Bowl, whether you care only for the commercials, or watch because “that’s the thing to do.” Indeed, it holds that much more importance in our culture because, well, nothing else unites as many people around a shared experience. Or at least that’s the theory. And if it’s true, I wonder if that says anything important about us?
It’s easy to imagine a culture in which things are different, right? For most of human history, our various societies had many shared experiences, probably because we lived so close together! When we did branch out, though, we were often united by shared systems of religious rituals, as well as languages, clothing, commerce and common cuisines. I’ve even heard historians claim that human history is the history of finding, cooking and eating food! Whatever the case, a ‘culture’ implies numerous shared experiences.
America’s a different place, though, it seems. One- we’re really big! Also, we’re not old, so we don’t have centuries of accumulated food wisdom (regionally, perhaps, but that’s different…). Plus, our nation was built by folk from other lands, who brought their foods, languages, and beliefs with them. E Pluribus Unum. In other countries, athletic events like the World Cup or Olympics consume all available cultural energy when they occur, while America still favors our version of football. Even clothing isn’t as common an American experience as elsewhere. Wait- we do have jeans- so I’ll amend the Super Bowl theory to include Levi’s!
Does that say anything about us? I’ve heard some claim it’s an example of our cultural shallowness, that America lacks the profundity of other nations, with their histories, cuisines, cathedrals and music. Call me a stubborn nationalist, but those arguments always struck me as more elitist, or jealous, than true. I wonder if, rather, that’s an expression of our cultural ease with uniqueness. Some would use the term ‘diversity,’ others might say ‘freedom,’ but whatever your preference I feel that, for better or worse, Americans celebrate, or at least value, unique people and ideas. Thus, there’s been little pressure to assimilate all the various cuisines that reached our shores. We’ve nurtured multiple musical forms (hip-hop, bluegrass, gospel, pop) to maintain their distinctiveness. Even our religions value uniqueness; there’s over 200 different American Christian denominations! Indeed, it’s no accident that our flavor, the Disciples of Christ, began on the American Frontier, committed as we are to freedom of interpretation and expression.
This comes with drawbacks, of course, like a temptation to idolize individualism, or frequent rejection of accumulated wisdom. Also, the history of American racism and segregation probably contributed much to the lack of a ‘unifying culture.’ Nevertheless, from this American’s perspective, there’s real value in the entrepreneurial instinct of our culture; it can certainly keep our religious life fresh and interesting! So perhaps it’s appropriate that attitude finds expression in a uniquely American sporting event, with all its faults and successes- watched by many people, in multiple languages, riveted by competition, repulsed by or drawn to brutality, anticipating creative commercials, often disappointed with simply another beer ad featuring slapstick humor, laughing anyway. Surely there’re more profound and transformative experiences we have available, but that a Super Bowl occupies the place it does isn’t, to my mind, a bad thing. Romans killed Christians in the Coliseum. Ancient Mesopotamians valued human sacrifices. Football looks alright, by comparison!
Or maybe I’m reading waaay too much into a game! Still, what do you think? Does the Super Bowl’s popularity say anything important about us? Would Jesus approve?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
It’s easy to imagine a culture in which things are different, right? For most of human history, our various societies had many shared experiences, probably because we lived so close together! When we did branch out, though, we were often united by shared systems of religious rituals, as well as languages, clothing, commerce and common cuisines. I’ve even heard historians claim that human history is the history of finding, cooking and eating food! Whatever the case, a ‘culture’ implies numerous shared experiences.
America’s a different place, though, it seems. One- we’re really big! Also, we’re not old, so we don’t have centuries of accumulated food wisdom (regionally, perhaps, but that’s different…). Plus, our nation was built by folk from other lands, who brought their foods, languages, and beliefs with them. E Pluribus Unum. In other countries, athletic events like the World Cup or Olympics consume all available cultural energy when they occur, while America still favors our version of football. Even clothing isn’t as common an American experience as elsewhere. Wait- we do have jeans- so I’ll amend the Super Bowl theory to include Levi’s!
Does that say anything about us? I’ve heard some claim it’s an example of our cultural shallowness, that America lacks the profundity of other nations, with their histories, cuisines, cathedrals and music. Call me a stubborn nationalist, but those arguments always struck me as more elitist, or jealous, than true. I wonder if, rather, that’s an expression of our cultural ease with uniqueness. Some would use the term ‘diversity,’ others might say ‘freedom,’ but whatever your preference I feel that, for better or worse, Americans celebrate, or at least value, unique people and ideas. Thus, there’s been little pressure to assimilate all the various cuisines that reached our shores. We’ve nurtured multiple musical forms (hip-hop, bluegrass, gospel, pop) to maintain their distinctiveness. Even our religions value uniqueness; there’s over 200 different American Christian denominations! Indeed, it’s no accident that our flavor, the Disciples of Christ, began on the American Frontier, committed as we are to freedom of interpretation and expression.
This comes with drawbacks, of course, like a temptation to idolize individualism, or frequent rejection of accumulated wisdom. Also, the history of American racism and segregation probably contributed much to the lack of a ‘unifying culture.’ Nevertheless, from this American’s perspective, there’s real value in the entrepreneurial instinct of our culture; it can certainly keep our religious life fresh and interesting! So perhaps it’s appropriate that attitude finds expression in a uniquely American sporting event, with all its faults and successes- watched by many people, in multiple languages, riveted by competition, repulsed by or drawn to brutality, anticipating creative commercials, often disappointed with simply another beer ad featuring slapstick humor, laughing anyway. Surely there’re more profound and transformative experiences we have available, but that a Super Bowl occupies the place it does isn’t, to my mind, a bad thing. Romans killed Christians in the Coliseum. Ancient Mesopotamians valued human sacrifices. Football looks alright, by comparison!
Or maybe I’m reading waaay too much into a game! Still, what do you think? Does the Super Bowl’s popularity say anything important about us? Would Jesus approve?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Illumination…
I spent Tuesday of this week at St. John’s College and Abby; in prayer, meditation, and working on this week’s service. As a side-note, I also sampled a homemade cookie that a cook in the Abby Guesthouse randomly offered me mid-morning. Considering it bad form to turn down such unexpected hospitality, I forwent my typical, “Sorry, I don’t like sweets.” And though I’m probably the wrong person to judge, I’ll admit it was well done and rather tasty. For being a cookie, that is.
Anyway, I’ve been to this wonderful campus before, although the last time I didn’t peek in on the St. John’s Bible. Which, in retrospect, was a missed opportunity. So I rectified the mistake, and perused the display after lunch. That was, I must say, a great idea.
In case you’d forgot, this Bible is the Western World’s first Benedictine commissioned illuminated manuscript in over 500 years. In less complicated language, that means it’s a hand-painted and scripted Bible, including both beautifully wrought text and stunning artistic renderings of Scripture. Before the days of the printing press, these manuscripts were created across the Christian world; typically the painstaking work of teams of monks requiring years of faithful effort. After that invention, however, the Bible became more accessible to everyday Christians, and not simply those with resources to commission such artwork, or who knew Latin. The downside of this comidification of Scripture, though, was the virtual end of this long-nurtured artistic tradition. In this Protestant’s opinion, the tradeoff was worth it. But I do like beautiful Bibles, nevertheless.
And the St. John’s Bible certainly counts as one, amen?! Last year, a group of us attended an exhibit of the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Science Museum, at the end of which was a gallery with original pages from the St. John’s Bible. If you saw that, or have otherwise encountered these images, I’m sure you’ll agree they’re stunning. Not just pretty handwriting of biblical text, but also examples of profound theology produced through art.
I could go on and on about what’s incredible in this Bible, but I’ll limit myself, in this letter, to the illumination of Mark’s story of the feeding of the 5,000. Remember the event? It’s one of the very few moments in Jesus’ ministry that all four gospels record in some form. A bunch of folk were, one day, listening to Jesus say awesome stuff, but as the night drew near, his disciples worried about how they’d all be feed. Logistics, it seems, is a perennial complication of good ministry! So Jesus says, “Whatever, I’ll feed them.” They find him five loaves of bread and two fish. He breaks the bread, gives thanks (Communion, anyone?!), and hands it to those gathered. And in some “Son of God” way, those small morsels feed the entire crowd, such that twelve baskets of food are leftover.
In the St. John’s Bible, that scene gets depicted not literally, but impressionistically. The page is filled with images of communion wafers, little fish that are reproductions of millennia-old cave drawings in Israel (the traditional site of this story), geometric designs derived from the basket-making tradition of certain Native American tribes (i.e. God’s activity occurs beyond the boundaries of our Scripture and tradition), and smatterings of gold leaf pressed in random shapes. Apparently, the gold represents “The Divine in Scripture,” which is what makes a manuscript “illuminated.” But what I loved most was that these images pushed into the page’s margins and beyond, only broken, occasionally, by black lines and white spaces. To the artist, the black lines represent moments when people act inhospitably, or with malice. And the white spaces represent opportunities for compassion and hospitality not taken. The idea is that the multiplication of Jesus’ miraculous feeding continues, in the ongoing acts of love his followers still perform. The only thing stopping it is our unwillingness to imitate Christ’s love, by what we do, or fail to do. Which left me with a question I’m passing onto you- Who have you fed lately?
Illuminated manuscript, indeed! And not a bad way to spend a half hour in prayer.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Anyway, I’ve been to this wonderful campus before, although the last time I didn’t peek in on the St. John’s Bible. Which, in retrospect, was a missed opportunity. So I rectified the mistake, and perused the display after lunch. That was, I must say, a great idea.
In case you’d forgot, this Bible is the Western World’s first Benedictine commissioned illuminated manuscript in over 500 years. In less complicated language, that means it’s a hand-painted and scripted Bible, including both beautifully wrought text and stunning artistic renderings of Scripture. Before the days of the printing press, these manuscripts were created across the Christian world; typically the painstaking work of teams of monks requiring years of faithful effort. After that invention, however, the Bible became more accessible to everyday Christians, and not simply those with resources to commission such artwork, or who knew Latin. The downside of this comidification of Scripture, though, was the virtual end of this long-nurtured artistic tradition. In this Protestant’s opinion, the tradeoff was worth it. But I do like beautiful Bibles, nevertheless.
And the St. John’s Bible certainly counts as one, amen?! Last year, a group of us attended an exhibit of the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Science Museum, at the end of which was a gallery with original pages from the St. John’s Bible. If you saw that, or have otherwise encountered these images, I’m sure you’ll agree they’re stunning. Not just pretty handwriting of biblical text, but also examples of profound theology produced through art.
I could go on and on about what’s incredible in this Bible, but I’ll limit myself, in this letter, to the illumination of Mark’s story of the feeding of the 5,000. Remember the event? It’s one of the very few moments in Jesus’ ministry that all four gospels record in some form. A bunch of folk were, one day, listening to Jesus say awesome stuff, but as the night drew near, his disciples worried about how they’d all be feed. Logistics, it seems, is a perennial complication of good ministry! So Jesus says, “Whatever, I’ll feed them.” They find him five loaves of bread and two fish. He breaks the bread, gives thanks (Communion, anyone?!), and hands it to those gathered. And in some “Son of God” way, those small morsels feed the entire crowd, such that twelve baskets of food are leftover.
In the St. John’s Bible, that scene gets depicted not literally, but impressionistically. The page is filled with images of communion wafers, little fish that are reproductions of millennia-old cave drawings in Israel (the traditional site of this story), geometric designs derived from the basket-making tradition of certain Native American tribes (i.e. God’s activity occurs beyond the boundaries of our Scripture and tradition), and smatterings of gold leaf pressed in random shapes. Apparently, the gold represents “The Divine in Scripture,” which is what makes a manuscript “illuminated.” But what I loved most was that these images pushed into the page’s margins and beyond, only broken, occasionally, by black lines and white spaces. To the artist, the black lines represent moments when people act inhospitably, or with malice. And the white spaces represent opportunities for compassion and hospitality not taken. The idea is that the multiplication of Jesus’ miraculous feeding continues, in the ongoing acts of love his followers still perform. The only thing stopping it is our unwillingness to imitate Christ’s love, by what we do, or fail to do. Which left me with a question I’m passing onto you- Who have you fed lately?
Illuminated manuscript, indeed! And not a bad way to spend a half hour in prayer.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Arrival…
Recently, I’ve thought lots about houses. Some good friends purchased their first home. Tabitha and I have been trying to scratch together for an eventual down payment. We’ve had multiple houseguests in recent days (i.e. lots of cleaning, re-cleaning, redecorating!). All this reminded me that, as much I look forward to owning a home some day, buying one is only the first step. There’s yard work, snow shoveling, selecting appliances and furniture. Insurance, property taxes, repairs. Not being a home owner, there’s surely much I’ve never considered! Getting a home, it seems, is like so many other things in life- once you ‘arrive,’ the work is just beginning.
Remember the story of the Israelites escaping Egypt? The Adult Sunday School talked about this recently, and as I heard about it, something struck me for the first time. Arriving in the Promised Land was not the end of the process.
A refresher for those who haven’t read Exodus in awhile. The ancient Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, for generations, the story goes. Eventually, God hears their cries, and empowers Moses to empower the people to achieve liberation. They then wandered forty years in the wilderness, always dreaming of a land God was preparing for them, aka The Promised Land. And one day, they arrived!
But the hard work, the Bible and archeology tell us, had only just begun. Two books in the Hebrew Bible- Joshua and Judges- give competing memories for what happened next. According to Joshua (generally speaking), the Israelites attacked city after city, massacring indigenous populations and confiscating the land, all at God’s behest. According to Judges, the process was more gradual- some success, much failure- and the escaped slaves joined with local tribes to form what eventually became the Israelite nation. Judges’ story, by the way, accords more with the archeological record, and our sense that God doesn’t condone genocide (Joshua’s valuable for other reasons). Nevertheless, the point is that inhabiting the Promised Land wasn’t easy or setback free. It was an ongoing struggle- internally and externally- to capitalize on a great opportunity, overcome limitations and foibles, and ultimately, to be as faithful to God’s best dreams for the future as possible.
It seems to me that Plymouth Creek, currently, has something in common with that story. If you weren’t at the potluck last Sunday, you should know that the Board presented a new vision for the future of Plymouth Creek. We’ve been working on this for over a year now. It’s begun affecting our worship life, planning and decision-making. And after long, prayerful discernment, and much congregational feedback, we felt the vision work was complete enough to share our efforts, and solicit everyone’s support and help.
I can’t describe fully the vision, its process and implications in this letter. We’ve got months of sharing, revising and imagining together to discover that. Simply, let me state the underlying idea we’ve discerned, and ask for your reaction. We believe it is the God-sized and inspired vision, for the future of Plymouth Creek, to become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the NW suburbs.
A beacon of Christian openness and service. Hopefully, that’s specific enough to generate ideas from everyone, and challenging enough to take the years of work and creativity that a God-inspired vision deserves. I.e. there will be time enough to flesh everything out. For now, it’s enough- for us all- to feel invigorated, like we’re not wandering in the wilderness, hoping only to survive. Rather, I pray we’re inspired to believe God’s given us new directions, fresh vision; that God’s glorious hopes for our intimate, hospitable, open and service-minded church will happen. And, thus, we’ll provide our neighbors the love, joy and compassion they so desperately need, more than we now believe possible.
As the ancient Israelites teach so profoundly, once you ‘arrive’, the work isn’t over. Still, arrival is wonderful, worth celebrating for a time. So I pray you feel, like me, there’s no other place I’d rather be learning to shine a beacon of openness and service than with Christians like you. It’s a good time to be a Plymouth Creeker, my friends. Thank you for that.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Remember the story of the Israelites escaping Egypt? The Adult Sunday School talked about this recently, and as I heard about it, something struck me for the first time. Arriving in the Promised Land was not the end of the process.
A refresher for those who haven’t read Exodus in awhile. The ancient Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, for generations, the story goes. Eventually, God hears their cries, and empowers Moses to empower the people to achieve liberation. They then wandered forty years in the wilderness, always dreaming of a land God was preparing for them, aka The Promised Land. And one day, they arrived!
But the hard work, the Bible and archeology tell us, had only just begun. Two books in the Hebrew Bible- Joshua and Judges- give competing memories for what happened next. According to Joshua (generally speaking), the Israelites attacked city after city, massacring indigenous populations and confiscating the land, all at God’s behest. According to Judges, the process was more gradual- some success, much failure- and the escaped slaves joined with local tribes to form what eventually became the Israelite nation. Judges’ story, by the way, accords more with the archeological record, and our sense that God doesn’t condone genocide (Joshua’s valuable for other reasons). Nevertheless, the point is that inhabiting the Promised Land wasn’t easy or setback free. It was an ongoing struggle- internally and externally- to capitalize on a great opportunity, overcome limitations and foibles, and ultimately, to be as faithful to God’s best dreams for the future as possible.
It seems to me that Plymouth Creek, currently, has something in common with that story. If you weren’t at the potluck last Sunday, you should know that the Board presented a new vision for the future of Plymouth Creek. We’ve been working on this for over a year now. It’s begun affecting our worship life, planning and decision-making. And after long, prayerful discernment, and much congregational feedback, we felt the vision work was complete enough to share our efforts, and solicit everyone’s support and help.
I can’t describe fully the vision, its process and implications in this letter. We’ve got months of sharing, revising and imagining together to discover that. Simply, let me state the underlying idea we’ve discerned, and ask for your reaction. We believe it is the God-sized and inspired vision, for the future of Plymouth Creek, to become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the NW suburbs.
A beacon of Christian openness and service. Hopefully, that’s specific enough to generate ideas from everyone, and challenging enough to take the years of work and creativity that a God-inspired vision deserves. I.e. there will be time enough to flesh everything out. For now, it’s enough- for us all- to feel invigorated, like we’re not wandering in the wilderness, hoping only to survive. Rather, I pray we’re inspired to believe God’s given us new directions, fresh vision; that God’s glorious hopes for our intimate, hospitable, open and service-minded church will happen. And, thus, we’ll provide our neighbors the love, joy and compassion they so desperately need, more than we now believe possible.
As the ancient Israelites teach so profoundly, once you ‘arrive’, the work isn’t over. Still, arrival is wonderful, worth celebrating for a time. So I pray you feel, like me, there’s no other place I’d rather be learning to shine a beacon of openness and service than with Christians like you. It’s a good time to be a Plymouth Creeker, my friends. Thank you for that.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Honoring God…
In last week’s letter, I began reflecting on the recent shooting of a Pakistani politician. I didn’t treat the topic fully. I simply tried identifying a core issue in the killing- why people defend God’s honor- and ended with, basically, to be continued…
Then, last Saturday, our country witnessed an almost-political assassination. By all reports, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona should not have survived it. But, thank God, brain surgeons have made incredible progress treating brain injury. So she may recover completely.
In light of that, I felt I couldn’t continue my original plan without mentioning Rep. Giffords. Indeed, while the two shooters’ motivations seem wildly different, I thought, maybe, a similarity exists. One analogous to horseracing.
Now I’m not trying to diminish these tragedies, so I hope this comparison is apt. Imagine being at the horse track, preparing to watch the races. In your program are funky horse names that mean nothing to you. Nevertheless, at the track, there’s pressure to place bets. Some have developed grand betting theories. But if you haven’t, nor have inside info into these equine athlete, you may not bet.
Until after the first race, that is, when the horses thunder down the homestretch and the whole grandstand stands up cheering. You think, “There’s no way everyone cares that much about a horse named Touboogie Woogie.” Then it hits you, “If I had three dollars riding on this, I’d be cheering just as loud…” So to increase your investment in the races, you bet occasionally, hope you win, but mostly enjoy screaming for your horse, while knowing that, ultimately, life goes on.
Again, the metaphor’s imperfect, but I think that’s how many approach politics. At some point, we put a stake in the ‘race.’ Indeed, we think we might even affect the outcome, so we vote, donate, volunteer, believing things will be better- for us and the common good- if our candidate/party/issue wins. But hopefully, we don’t expect the world to end when we lose.
Unfortunately, some overinvest in the race. Perhaps they think they know more than others about what will, or should, occur. So they bet massive amounts on their horses. And while the rest of us stand and cheer, only to move on when our bets falter, they sit anxiously in the stands, eyes fixed demonically on the track.
I think that’s similar to these situations. Two men, for different reasons, overinvested in the activities of government officials. For one, it seems religious leaders riled him up by mistaking blasphemy as a threat to God. As if God’s that weak and defenseless. But unlike other adherents of his faith, this guy bet his life, hoping it would pay off in the next, to change the race’s dynamics. I pray he and his clergy learn humility, and seek forgiveness. The Arizona shooter didn’t seem religious; maybe he was disturbed, dangerously lonely, or egomaniacal. Still, he too overinvested in the political race, and acted like the best way to make good on that investment was to end the race for others. Heartbreaking.
Many churches have difficulty talking faith and politics, and so don’t do it often, us included. But humor me to talk politics for a moment. I believe Christians should never put political beliefs before the life or dignity of another. Why? Because Jesus death revealed God’s unending love for everyone. I.e. The race that ultimately counts is the one whose outcome is certain; it’s the one Jesus died to fix.
Sometimes we forget that, that God not only values people of all ideologies (whether or not S/He agrees…), but also offers them compassion and grace. It’s not like we don’t believe it. We just sometimes overinvest in the race. Certainly not as badly as these men, but no one seems immune these days. So please, in light of these horrible events, let’s remember that whatever (insert your non-preferred politicians here) want for our state, country or world, God won’t ever stop offering them, or us, love and forgiveness, and will always be present with hope. And yes, the political race is still important. But to faithful Christians, it always takes second place to God’s love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Then, last Saturday, our country witnessed an almost-political assassination. By all reports, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona should not have survived it. But, thank God, brain surgeons have made incredible progress treating brain injury. So she may recover completely.
In light of that, I felt I couldn’t continue my original plan without mentioning Rep. Giffords. Indeed, while the two shooters’ motivations seem wildly different, I thought, maybe, a similarity exists. One analogous to horseracing.
Now I’m not trying to diminish these tragedies, so I hope this comparison is apt. Imagine being at the horse track, preparing to watch the races. In your program are funky horse names that mean nothing to you. Nevertheless, at the track, there’s pressure to place bets. Some have developed grand betting theories. But if you haven’t, nor have inside info into these equine athlete, you may not bet.
Until after the first race, that is, when the horses thunder down the homestretch and the whole grandstand stands up cheering. You think, “There’s no way everyone cares that much about a horse named Touboogie Woogie.” Then it hits you, “If I had three dollars riding on this, I’d be cheering just as loud…” So to increase your investment in the races, you bet occasionally, hope you win, but mostly enjoy screaming for your horse, while knowing that, ultimately, life goes on.
Again, the metaphor’s imperfect, but I think that’s how many approach politics. At some point, we put a stake in the ‘race.’ Indeed, we think we might even affect the outcome, so we vote, donate, volunteer, believing things will be better- for us and the common good- if our candidate/party/issue wins. But hopefully, we don’t expect the world to end when we lose.
Unfortunately, some overinvest in the race. Perhaps they think they know more than others about what will, or should, occur. So they bet massive amounts on their horses. And while the rest of us stand and cheer, only to move on when our bets falter, they sit anxiously in the stands, eyes fixed demonically on the track.
I think that’s similar to these situations. Two men, for different reasons, overinvested in the activities of government officials. For one, it seems religious leaders riled him up by mistaking blasphemy as a threat to God. As if God’s that weak and defenseless. But unlike other adherents of his faith, this guy bet his life, hoping it would pay off in the next, to change the race’s dynamics. I pray he and his clergy learn humility, and seek forgiveness. The Arizona shooter didn’t seem religious; maybe he was disturbed, dangerously lonely, or egomaniacal. Still, he too overinvested in the political race, and acted like the best way to make good on that investment was to end the race for others. Heartbreaking.
Many churches have difficulty talking faith and politics, and so don’t do it often, us included. But humor me to talk politics for a moment. I believe Christians should never put political beliefs before the life or dignity of another. Why? Because Jesus death revealed God’s unending love for everyone. I.e. The race that ultimately counts is the one whose outcome is certain; it’s the one Jesus died to fix.
Sometimes we forget that, that God not only values people of all ideologies (whether or not S/He agrees…), but also offers them compassion and grace. It’s not like we don’t believe it. We just sometimes overinvest in the race. Certainly not as badly as these men, but no one seems immune these days. So please, in light of these horrible events, let’s remember that whatever (insert your non-preferred politicians here) want for our state, country or world, God won’t ever stop offering them, or us, love and forgiveness, and will always be present with hope. And yes, the political race is still important. But to faithful Christians, it always takes second place to God’s love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, January 7, 2011
Powerful words…
I heard news from Pakistan this week that disturbed me. Perhaps you did too. I refer to the murder of the Governor of Pakistan’s largest province- Salman Taseer of Punjab- allegedly carried out by a man hired to guard him. And it’s not simply the premature death of a prominent Pakistani official that caught my attention. It was the suspected motive for the killing that stood out. It seems Gov. Taseer’s bodyguard killed him because of the politician’s opposition to lethal punishment for blasphemers.
A little context, from what I’ve gleaned: A few decades back, then-President (read- military dictator) General Zia ul-Haq instituted laws outlawing blasphemy against the state religion of Islam. These laws included prohibitions protecting the religious sensitivities of practitioners, the sanctity of Holy sites, and punishing desecration of the Qur’an and the prophet Muhammad. Defaming the latter, in fact, is a capital offense. As an American, it’s outside my experience that a government would mandate one religion. But Pakistan is officially The Islamic Republic of Pakistan, and it’s not my prerogative to judge whether that’s okay. Pakistanis can organize their country as they see fit.
What is troubling, though, is that multiple human rights and aid groups- international and Pakistani- have documented violence stemming directly from these blasphemy laws, particularly against ethnic or religious minorities. No one’s yet been executed because of a blasphemy conviction. However, mobs, religious fanatics and/or police have murdered folk simply because they were accused of blasphemy. It seems outcries against one recent accusation, and subsequent harassment, had reached Gov. Taseer’s desk. He boldly, and properly, called these laws unjust, recommending a change. Many applauded that decision. Fanatics did not, and so apparently, murdered him. Poor problem solving imagination, I’d say, but I’m not a religious fanatic.
Now, I bring this up not to inflame negativity against Islam or Pakistan. The idiocy of some practitioners or citizens does not a religion or country make. And thank God for that, since some Christians also advocated death for blasphemy or heresy. Exhibit A- Salem Witch Trials. Exhibit B- John Calvin’s theocratic rule in Geneva. Still, Christian, Muslim or otherwise, why would a religious person be so outraged by so-called blasphemy as to kill someone? Or even lock her/him in jail?
One analysis might suggest, of course, less-than-religious motivations for such killings. Namely, it’s in the perceived political interest of certain religious factions to bully non-practitioners to do what they want. I.e. Those laws aren’t about God, Jesus or Muhammad. They’re about power and control.
But as true as that analysis might be, when applied to John Calvin or a political leader (people who’d stand to gain and exercise power from social control), it’s less clear why a simple congregant- the Governor’s bodyguard- would carry out the execution. Indeed, it seems he was so outraged by the possibility that Muhammad’s dignity might, someday, be accosted by the easing of these laws, that he felt compelled to end his-life-as-he-knew-it by ending another’s. In other words, his wasn’t a political motivation. It was religious; it came from the very core of his self-identity.
And, assuming he wasn’t just deranged, he probably thought his life best used by guarding God’s honor.
Does God’s honor matter that much? Something true for all religious folk, I think, is our conviction that God- by whatever name S/He’s called- is special. So special, unique…Holy…we should treat God with more deference than other cherished people or objects. Consider that some Christians get offended when a TV character says, “Jesus Christ,” or a football coach screams, “God Damn!” Not nearly the same as execution for blasphemy, but there’s something related in those reactions: defending God’s honor.
Not enough space left to address this issue fully. But a final thought: When Jesus was dying on the Cross, his captors mocked, “If you’re truly God, come down from there and show us.” His response, “Be careful not to hate the ones killing us because they know not what they are doing. God forgive them.” Well, actually that was The Reverend Meyassr Al- Qaspotros at a Chaldean Catholic Church in Baghdad over Christmas. But I think I’ve heard that sentiment before.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
A little context, from what I’ve gleaned: A few decades back, then-President (read- military dictator) General Zia ul-Haq instituted laws outlawing blasphemy against the state religion of Islam. These laws included prohibitions protecting the religious sensitivities of practitioners, the sanctity of Holy sites, and punishing desecration of the Qur’an and the prophet Muhammad. Defaming the latter, in fact, is a capital offense. As an American, it’s outside my experience that a government would mandate one religion. But Pakistan is officially The Islamic Republic of Pakistan, and it’s not my prerogative to judge whether that’s okay. Pakistanis can organize their country as they see fit.
What is troubling, though, is that multiple human rights and aid groups- international and Pakistani- have documented violence stemming directly from these blasphemy laws, particularly against ethnic or religious minorities. No one’s yet been executed because of a blasphemy conviction. However, mobs, religious fanatics and/or police have murdered folk simply because they were accused of blasphemy. It seems outcries against one recent accusation, and subsequent harassment, had reached Gov. Taseer’s desk. He boldly, and properly, called these laws unjust, recommending a change. Many applauded that decision. Fanatics did not, and so apparently, murdered him. Poor problem solving imagination, I’d say, but I’m not a religious fanatic.
Now, I bring this up not to inflame negativity against Islam or Pakistan. The idiocy of some practitioners or citizens does not a religion or country make. And thank God for that, since some Christians also advocated death for blasphemy or heresy. Exhibit A- Salem Witch Trials. Exhibit B- John Calvin’s theocratic rule in Geneva. Still, Christian, Muslim or otherwise, why would a religious person be so outraged by so-called blasphemy as to kill someone? Or even lock her/him in jail?
One analysis might suggest, of course, less-than-religious motivations for such killings. Namely, it’s in the perceived political interest of certain religious factions to bully non-practitioners to do what they want. I.e. Those laws aren’t about God, Jesus or Muhammad. They’re about power and control.
But as true as that analysis might be, when applied to John Calvin or a political leader (people who’d stand to gain and exercise power from social control), it’s less clear why a simple congregant- the Governor’s bodyguard- would carry out the execution. Indeed, it seems he was so outraged by the possibility that Muhammad’s dignity might, someday, be accosted by the easing of these laws, that he felt compelled to end his-life-as-he-knew-it by ending another’s. In other words, his wasn’t a political motivation. It was religious; it came from the very core of his self-identity.
And, assuming he wasn’t just deranged, he probably thought his life best used by guarding God’s honor.
Does God’s honor matter that much? Something true for all religious folk, I think, is our conviction that God- by whatever name S/He’s called- is special. So special, unique…Holy…we should treat God with more deference than other cherished people or objects. Consider that some Christians get offended when a TV character says, “Jesus Christ,” or a football coach screams, “God Damn!” Not nearly the same as execution for blasphemy, but there’s something related in those reactions: defending God’s honor.
Not enough space left to address this issue fully. But a final thought: When Jesus was dying on the Cross, his captors mocked, “If you’re truly God, come down from there and show us.” His response, “Be careful not to hate the ones killing us because they know not what they are doing. God forgive them.” Well, actually that was The Reverend Meyassr Al- Qaspotros at a Chaldean Catholic Church in Baghdad over Christmas. But I think I’ve heard that sentiment before.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Monday, January 3, 2011
God’s ways are different. Always…
Have you heard the tale of the Blind Men and the Elephant? Multiple Eastern religions have adapted it. Celebrated Sufi mystic Rumi had his version. American Poet John Godfrey Saxe penned a famous 19th century rendition. But in case it’s escaped you, or it’s been awhile, here’s the abbreviated Rev. Isner version:
Three blind men walked into a large room, where a King had tied up an elephant. The King said, “Before you is a beast of great power and wisdom. Please describe it.” So the first man grabbed the elephant’s leg, and declared, “My Liege, this beast is like a pillar!” The second man, feeling the ear, disagreed, “No! It’s more akin to a fan.” The third man inspected the tail, and quickly jumped in, “You are both fools! The beast is most like a rope.” But the King said, “You all are right. And you all are wrong. The elephant is all of this, and more besides.”
As a metaphor for knowing God, I like this story. Each of us can say something true about the Lord. And yet, we’ll always be limited in how far our understandings or experiences can reach. Paul says in the Love Chapter- 1 Cor. 13- “Now we see in a mirror, dimly…then (the afterlife) I will know fully, even as I’ve been fully known.” Amen!
As a metaphor for how Christians act, this story’s many versions can also be instructive. In one telling, attributed to the Buddha, the blind men fight and punch as they disagree about who’s really right, while the King looks on delighted. The story ends with, “O how they cling and wrangle, some who claim/For preacher and monk the honored name!/For, quarreling, each to his view they cling./Such folk see only one side of a thing.” In another version, the blind men calmly declare their thoughts, and await patiently as the King resolves everything. Others fall in various places between. Likewise, Jesus’ followers have fought about our differences, celebrated them, awkwardly abided them and/or simply ignored them. God’s Children are myriad, indeed!
This year, 2011, I hope Plymouth Creek will take these differences head on. That we will be honest- with God, ourselves and especially our neighbors- about our deepest faith convictions, our inevitable limitations, and endlessly curious about what we could never have come up with ourselves. As a Disciples of Christ church, one of our greatest strengths and identity markers is the Open Table, i.e. the fact that we never say, “No, communion for you; you’re unacceptable.” Such unconditional hospitality and radical openness, however, can be tough. Some want to pigeonhole us- “What does your church believe about…” The only appropriate response is, “Jesus is Lord. The rest is up to us.” Many prefer churches with but one style of music, or dominant generation, or ideological agenda. We think we’re better off remaining open, even if that means a slower growth pattern.
But rather than focus on the struggles of our openness, I want us to explore its blessedness this year. So in keeping with recent years, we’ll have a theme to emphasize that idea all year long. Here it is, what you’ve been waiting for (and probably shorter than expected!), the PCCC 2011 Annual Theme- God’s ways are different. Always…
In sermons series, scripture studies, activities and more, I hope that throughout 2011 we’ll embrace the holy wonderful strangeness of our Lord. Yes, God’s as caring, compassionate and forgiving as we’ve always believed. But in many ways we sometimes ignore (preachers more than most!), God is different. God’s vision is vastly more expansive than ours could ever be. God’s love is radically more inclusive than our hearts allow. God’s hopes are more realistic and daring than our most personal dreams. So rather than be a church contented with ever repeating the same formulas and beliefs, let’s prove to ourselves, our visitors, friends and neighbors what an open church this can be!
Why? Because striving always to adapt our ways to God’s ways is a life-giving way to be. Besides, imagine how better this world would be if more folk followed the different trajectory of God’s Kingdom.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Three blind men walked into a large room, where a King had tied up an elephant. The King said, “Before you is a beast of great power and wisdom. Please describe it.” So the first man grabbed the elephant’s leg, and declared, “My Liege, this beast is like a pillar!” The second man, feeling the ear, disagreed, “No! It’s more akin to a fan.” The third man inspected the tail, and quickly jumped in, “You are both fools! The beast is most like a rope.” But the King said, “You all are right. And you all are wrong. The elephant is all of this, and more besides.”
As a metaphor for knowing God, I like this story. Each of us can say something true about the Lord. And yet, we’ll always be limited in how far our understandings or experiences can reach. Paul says in the Love Chapter- 1 Cor. 13- “Now we see in a mirror, dimly…then (the afterlife) I will know fully, even as I’ve been fully known.” Amen!
As a metaphor for how Christians act, this story’s many versions can also be instructive. In one telling, attributed to the Buddha, the blind men fight and punch as they disagree about who’s really right, while the King looks on delighted. The story ends with, “O how they cling and wrangle, some who claim/For preacher and monk the honored name!/For, quarreling, each to his view they cling./Such folk see only one side of a thing.” In another version, the blind men calmly declare their thoughts, and await patiently as the King resolves everything. Others fall in various places between. Likewise, Jesus’ followers have fought about our differences, celebrated them, awkwardly abided them and/or simply ignored them. God’s Children are myriad, indeed!
This year, 2011, I hope Plymouth Creek will take these differences head on. That we will be honest- with God, ourselves and especially our neighbors- about our deepest faith convictions, our inevitable limitations, and endlessly curious about what we could never have come up with ourselves. As a Disciples of Christ church, one of our greatest strengths and identity markers is the Open Table, i.e. the fact that we never say, “No, communion for you; you’re unacceptable.” Such unconditional hospitality and radical openness, however, can be tough. Some want to pigeonhole us- “What does your church believe about…” The only appropriate response is, “Jesus is Lord. The rest is up to us.” Many prefer churches with but one style of music, or dominant generation, or ideological agenda. We think we’re better off remaining open, even if that means a slower growth pattern.
But rather than focus on the struggles of our openness, I want us to explore its blessedness this year. So in keeping with recent years, we’ll have a theme to emphasize that idea all year long. Here it is, what you’ve been waiting for (and probably shorter than expected!), the PCCC 2011 Annual Theme- God’s ways are different. Always…
In sermons series, scripture studies, activities and more, I hope that throughout 2011 we’ll embrace the holy wonderful strangeness of our Lord. Yes, God’s as caring, compassionate and forgiving as we’ve always believed. But in many ways we sometimes ignore (preachers more than most!), God is different. God’s vision is vastly more expansive than ours could ever be. God’s love is radically more inclusive than our hearts allow. God’s hopes are more realistic and daring than our most personal dreams. So rather than be a church contented with ever repeating the same formulas and beliefs, let’s prove to ourselves, our visitors, friends and neighbors what an open church this can be!
Why? Because striving always to adapt our ways to God’s ways is a life-giving way to be. Besides, imagine how better this world would be if more folk followed the different trajectory of God’s Kingdom.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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