Deliver us…

“Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” I suspect everyone recognizes this snippet from Jesus’ timeless, Lord’s Prayer. Although, as we also know, several varieties are used. The churches of my childhood preferred, “Forgive us our trespasses.” But the original word- ὀφείλημα pronounced, o-feh-lay-mah- means “debts,” as in money or services owed by one party to another.

Of course, since Jesus originally uttered it, it’s been commonly understood as a metaphor for sin. But scholars tell us that Jesus wasn’t just being metaphorical. Among poor, common people of his day- i.e. 90% of the population and those to whom he ministered mostly- farming, land-use, and tax debt was everyday fair. More than that, debt was crushing, a cause of widespread poverty. Many families couldn’t own the land they worked, due to high indebtedness. And those who did own often lost land to wealthy city residents who piled high debts on these peasants. They, after all, had to buy seed, farm implements and daily bread, pay temple or imperial taxes, and when harvests were tight, emergency capital was scarce. Thus, a debt industry grew to tide peasant folk through tough times, but when better times came, rarely could they work out of trouble.

Not surprising, then, that Jesus used “debts” in his famous prayer. For his ministry partners and recipients, this turmoil routinely shackled their families. To be forgiven one’s debts meant, literally, a new lease on life. And to forgive one’s debtors- folk rarely viewed with kindness and compassion- meant an act of spiritual powerlifting, a profoundly daring idea.

The prayer’s on my mind this week because I just finished a remarkable book. Titled, White House Burning: The Founding Fathers, Our National Debt and Why It Matters to You, it’s a history of America’s national indebtedness, and a treatise on how our nation might respond to the debt we collectively face. I found the book quite accessible to those not fully versed in economics, like me. I wasn’t entirely ignorant before reading, but now feel much more comfortable with the subject.

And, frankly, I’m a bit worried, not terrified, but concerned. For, truly, the consequences of unchecked debt could be stunningly…icky. Many of us know this personally; I cringe monthly at the student loan payments I make. I’m not ashamed of that debt, since it purchased an education that helps me be a better minister for this church. Still, it’ll be decades until I can shout, “Yeah! I’m debt free!” And think of all the Broncos jerseys that money could buy in the meantime…

On a national level, too, I’m not (entirely) ashamed of our debt. As the book described, in many cases it resulted from decisions our people made to make our lives better. Factions from differing political camps might (do!) take issue with some of those decisions or others. Still, in theory at least, our historically high standard of living derives from collective action we’ve taken.

But we’ve financed some of that action, not from current income, but through future borrowing. And as everyone with loans knows, the paymaster always cometh. In the coming national election, both major parties appear concerned about the debt. At least in theory, they offer competing proposals for how to tackle it, eventually. I won’t weigh in on who I think offers the best proposal, except to say I’m skeptical that either side seems really, truly committed. Still, I’d hope that every voter has an idea for how s/he’d want us to “forgive us our debts”.

Because the issue, as I see it, is that indebtedness isn’t an acceptable long-term strategy. Whether that debt is to your neighbor, for having hurt her with rudeness, to God, for having denied God’s call for justice, love and compassion, or to future generations, for having avoided responsible decisions to avert potential catastrophes of national default or environmental devastation, we ought desire forgiveness and reconciliation, not shutting our eyes and ears. After all, the ultimate goal isn’t getting all we want, whenever we want, to heck with the consequences. It’s to help “God’s Kingdom come on earth,” as best we’re able. Working together.


Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Goodness…

So… Apparently, Jesus had a wife. Or may’ve had a wife. Or some Christians once thought it was possible. Or something.

I refer, of course, to a news story that broke recently. It seems a Harvard Divinity School professor, a few years back, came upon an allegedly ancient fragment of papyrus. Written in 4th-century Egyptian (Coptic), it contained the phrase, “Jesus said unto them, ‘My wife...’” Since then, she’s subjected the document to archeological testing, written a journal article for peer review, and last month presented her work to an academic conference. As researchers do.

Recap: previously unknown words penned no earlier than three hundred years after Jesus’ death show Jesus muttering “my wife”, though the papyrus ends before further illumination can arise. Intriguing as a potential, albeit limited, window into 4th century Coptic Christianity and its diverse ideas? Sure. Useful evidence for constructing an historically rigorous picture of Mr. (and Mrs.?) Christ’s home-life? Not so much.

Therefore naturally, for a few days after the aforementioned conference, worldwide news organizations went ballistic! “Jesus was married?! OMJesus! God the Father was an in-law?!” I suspect the coverage would’ve been less intense if The Da Vinci Code hadn’t made such a splash. But it did. So now news orgs know that possible suggestions that Jesus may have had (sex) a family produce heavy traffic. Hence it is that a boringly detailed academic non-event becomes global breaking news. So much so, local suburban pastors get sucked in enough to comment.

Honestly, I doubt Jesus was married. He seemed too…peripatetic. You know, walking here, walking there, never staying anywhere all that long. Not terribly effective for nurturing an intimate relationship, right? But maybe he was. If so, good for him. It wouldn’t matter to my faith, I think. Although some Christians consider the suggestion itself evil, blasphemous, dirty.

And that has to do with sex. At least, that’s my guess. After all, we Christians have long had an awkward relationship with sexuality of all kinds. As I understand it, long ago some theologians speculatively separated the human self into Spirit v Flesh (mis-taking cues from Paul’s writings). Spirit they called good, obviously. Flesh, therefore, was bad. And though Flesh could’ve referenced many diverse things, what really got these folks worked up was carnal activity.

Which makes a kind of sense, right? Sexuality is powerful, and sometimes dangerous, and when abused, sometimes destructive to families. And family is about the most important force in human civilization. But it’s a long jump to go from those admissions to, “Only sex for the purpose of procreation is admissible, and then it’s simply tolerated.” Yet for centuries, that was more or less official Western Christian policy (strangely overlooking that healthy sexuality is highly beneficial to families).

Anyway, fast forward to now, and we’re still dealing with baggage from this centuries-long skepticism or derision of sexuality. It shows up, maybe comically, in the oversized attention the above mentioned news story received. It shows up, less comically, in the bitter fights we’re having about narrowly defining marriage in the Minnesota constitution.

But I wonder if, wherever you stand on those or other sexuality-related issues, we’d have more productive conversations if we all read Song of Songs again. And recognized the delight it takes in humanity, in “flesh”. It too acknowledges the dangers of (especially immature) sexuality. But in the context of loving commitment, this Bible book says more. Apparently, it believes we’re created, as Genesis 1 put it, “good.” Which isn’t, “Without the possibility of evil and abuse.” But rather, “Full of possibility for beauty.”

And that’s true for all humans- male, female, Jesus! Sin hasn’t so infected our “flesh” we’re incapable of doing things good and right and wonderful. Whether we’re talking sexuality or feeding the hungry or building just, decent communities, we may mess up at times, but we don’t always have to. Indeed, I believe that Jesus came to show us what more was possible if we’d better acknowledge and utilize- with God’s help!- the power  within us. If we’d more joyfully and respectfully honor the creative image of our Creator God, imprinted on our spirit and flesh. And our neighbors.

Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!

Shining brighter…

Behind the Table of the church I served in Lexington stood a three-stories tall stained-glass window. Artfully declaring the good news of Jesus, it depicted both scenes of his life and modern life, in which Jesus and followers served the needy, helped the hurting, praised the glory of God. Truth be told, worshippers had trouble looking away from that window. It was that striking, that well done.

And it was there because a church member wanted to invest in his church’s future, in the mission of God in that place. Apparently, one day the music minister paid the man a visit, saw his yard needing mowing, then told his son to return on Saturday to help. Soon after, the man pulled the minister aside. “Tell your son thanks. By the way, can I help design a $100,000 stained-glass window for the church?” “Uhhh…” was the minister’s stunned response. But soon enough, the deed was done. And now the glass, the beauty the church member helped create inspires awe, evokes majesty, calls its viewers to deeper acts of faithful service. In short, it helps do what church ought do: Bring the Kingdom of God into our midst.

Over the next month, you’ll hear a lot about giving, the Kingdom of God in our midst, investing in the beauty and future of our church through your time, talent and treasures. We’ve talked some in recent months about needing to raise money for facility improvements. To date, in fact, we’ve already received $11,500! But as the Board and other leaders have looked around, talked with members, prayerfully considered our needs and options, it’s become clear that we’ll need more money to do what needs doing. Specifically, we hope to revamp our parking lot, restore our carpets, swap out sanctuary windows, fix our roof and pay down debt. One reason why is obvious; our decades-old building and grounds demand attention! The other- and to my mind, more pressing- reason has to do with our church’s mission.

Imagine you’re a young family in Plymouth, MN, wondering if any churches nearby welcome everybody, don’t tell you what you must believe, encourage warm relationships across generations and live out deepening faith through service. I believe many would find that church attractive. And I think that church is…Plymouth Creek! Then, you drive into our lot, immediately avoiding a massive hole. You enter the building, then see a funky carpet and crumbling windows. You read our budget and realize we’re good stewards of scant resources, but still spend a chunk on debt, rather than ministry to children or the poor. You’d want to make this place your home, right?! You’d want to serve and shine with us! But you might have second thoughts, “Will they make it? Can they overcome these challenges?”

Fast forward to next Spring, though, after a successful Capital Campaign, after PCCCers pledge to give x number of dollars over three years to make our church shine brighter now and for generations, we’ll be that same church with great values, boldly living 21st-century Christian faith, but all those questions about facilities, well, they’ll have diminished, maybe disappeared. For that reason, especially, is why my family will give money to this Capital Campaign. Not because we believe in Plymouth Creek’s building. We believe in our mission. We’re inspired by our vision- To become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the Northwestern suburbs. We’re grateful for the investments of generations before us, and want to do our part now.

So will you give with Tabitha and me? Again, the Campaign starts September 30 and runs for four weeks. By October 21, we hope you’ll turn pledges in for…$2,000? $20,000? We have details on the projects and spending decisions that we’ll share in other formats. Please ask all the questions you need, and pray for God’s good guidance. Can we do it? Absolutely! With God, all things are possible. And God’s called us to be, like Jesus, lights for the world around us. Let us shine, therefore, as bright now as we can, and- God willing- unto generations more!

 Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!

Faithful suspicion…

Last weekend, I began a book that, in the late 1980s, caused a stir. Titled “The Satanic Verses” (referring to a disputed story from Islam’s founding), this novel narrates two men’s experiences of traveling from India to Britain. It’s a good read so far, literary and imaginative. I’ve gotten to some of the “controversial” sections and haven’t found them offensive. Of course, I’m not Ayatollah Khomeini who, in 1989, faced an angry Iranian public, tired from eight years of war with Iraq, upset by their government’s bungling, and thus- some commentators have suggested- the Ayatollah needed a scapegoat. Fortunately (for him), there was Salman Rushdie’s recently published book. So, in what I find an act of stunning hubris, he ‘informed’, “all brave Muslims of the world that the author of The Satanic Verses…(is)condemned to death. I call on all valiant Muslims wherever they may be in the world to kill (him) without delay.” This ‘ruling’, or fatwa, sparked multiple demonstrations in Muslim-majority countries, at which some were killed. And Rushdie spent the next decade-plus in hiding.

Now, I didn’t choose this novel because of recent demonstrations in Muslim-majority countries. I’ve been eyeing it for years, and recently found it on sale. Still, the parallels of that controversy and what’s been dominating recent news have seemed eerie to me, and sad.

Not that the Youtube video that sparked last week’s turmoil compares to Rushdie’s fiction. I haven’t seen the now infamous (and from all accounts, stupidly intolerant) video, but have heard it’s an amateurish, deliberate attack on the dignity of Islam and its founder. Rushdie, by contrast, painted an artistic, nuanced picture of the alleged “Satanic Verses Incident”, seeking to explore the concept of revelation. He deplores ‘fanaticism,’ self-describes as an atheist, but also professes respect for religious folk, Muslims included. Yet regardless of intent- intentionally demeaning or imaginative investigation- in both instances, people chose to take offense, leading to others’ deaths.

I suspect that today, as then, the reasons for the condemnations and resulting protests are more complex than, “The artwork offends Muslims.” For starters, some Muslims aren’t offended. And for most who are, the offense isn’t worth hurting, or murdering, other humans. But like then, these days we see hostile leaders using this otherwise obscure fiction to distract attention or gain power. For instance, on Monday, Hezbollah’s leader made a rare public appearance to denounce the anti-Islamic video and ‘warn’ the US. He’s done the latter many times before, it’s just now he sees an opportunity: Channel people’s frustrations to support his organization.

I find such behavior disgusting. Obviously, violence in reaction to art, however stupid or beautiful, offends my regard for the rights of free expression and of life itself. But beyond that, the cynical manipulation of religious sentiment for political gain in these cases angers me. Whatever the reasons for people’s protests- sincere spiritual offense, disgust with US foreign policy, frustration at inequality or poverty, or just plain ole bigotry- to then take advantage by marshaling pious devotion in favor of death and violence, that contradicts all I cherish about religion, Christian and Muslim.

After all, Jesus said, “Love your enemy.” Not that Muslims are Christian enemies, nor Muslim-majority countries the enemies of religiously-diverse America. But whomever chooses to call you ‘enemy,’ Jesus counsels, ought be treated in return with compassion, not derision. That’s the spiritually courageous, even responsible, reaction, as many Muslim leaders these days agree. For God, as Mohamed described, is All-Compassionate and Merciful. Or as 1 John puts it, God is Love. To stand up to aggression and defend the weak is, surely, a just application of those principles. But even when one must confront a bully with force (like, say, Hitler), religiously sincere people- particularly leaders- cannot advocate hate, and hate-inspired violence. It betrays the unifying, reconciling, forgiving force behind religion itself. It betrays God, as every great prophet made plain.

So whatever’s “really happening” in recent protests, I urge you to be suspicious of anyone using religion to stoke the flames. That’s not authentic Christian or Islamic faith. It’s a willful grab for power. And our God desires love and reconciliation, not division or hate.


Grace and Peace,

Shane Read more!

A speck…

I heard an astronomer last week describe Earth this way- “We’re a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck.” So it goes, he claimed, when you consider the vast magnitude of space. Humanity’s relationship to the endless-seeming, post-Big Bang reality.

I’ve been pondering the cosmos of late, not simply because of this comment, but so too because of amazing footing from the new Mars rover, Curiosity. Did you hear about this? Recently, NASA landed another high-tech rolling robot on the red planet, equipped with 3-D, hi-def video. Apparently, the landing involved decelerating the craft from 13,000 miles per hour to zero, in seven minutes. What’s more, NASA’s scientists couldn’t make adjustments during the landing, meaning the whole operation was pre-programmed. So once Curiosity entered Mars’ atmosphere, observers could only wait, worry and pray. Praise the Space Gods, though, it worked! Curiosity’s a-roving. And wow! At least I find the images it’s sending to be beautiful.

Funny how knowledge evolves, amen?! In Genesis 1, the scripture writer attempts her/his own “Cosmological” imagining. S/he imagines the cosmos as being contained within a great dome. There are Waters below (sea), Waters above (sky; held back by Heavenly Flood Gates), and the Land on which s/he walks is a kind of literal middle ground. Beyond the Waters are what ancients called “The Deep” and “The Heavens”. And since those were, presumably, divine domains, no one knows what’s there.

Notice what a human-centered worldview that cosmological thinking was- We are the center of God’s Creation, the Divine Plan’s culmination. After all, on the story’s supposed Seventh Day- just after creating humanity- God rests, as if to say, “I’m done, y’all! Have at it.” Nowadays, though, we know that beyond earth’s sky aren’t waters holding back Heaven. Instead, it’s this endless void called Space, of which Earth isn’t even close to the center. In fact, the above-quoted astronomer says, “There’s truly no ‘Center of the Universe’.” No one place from which gravity pulls, and around which all things rotate.

Instead, we’re “a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck”, a phrase that, I suspect, makes some feel lonely and insignificant. Certainly, when Copernicus first proposed that the Earth rotated around the Sun, not vice versa, church authorities of his day cried (my paraphrase), “Blasphemy! You’re making us feel small!” But I take another perspective. It makes me marvel at the wonder of God! The majesty of this Divine Reality whose attention encompasses all that is. Typically, we us-centered humans act like “all that is” means…our state? Nation? Civilization? Planet? But as Mars’ Curiosity reminds us, Reality is so much greater still. Yet to think, as Psalm 139 contends, “Lord, you have searched me and known me”? How cool is that?! God knows and loves us. Amidst all the endless immensity of the cosmos!

Honestly, it further impresses upon me a sense of profound responsibility. If, in fact, as our faith contends, God not only cares about life on this lonely planet, but cared enough to get involved through the life and resurrection of Jesus, shouldn’t we take that much more care of our lush, abundant home? I know some people- perhaps some of you- question the veracity of human-caused global warming. Whatever your convictions, though, about causes and solutions, none of us should be blasé about potential consequences of receding polar ice caps and 6.9 billion (and rising) people on earth. Our planet’s too fragile, too isolated, for us to shrug off possibly devastating risks. Not when we have industrial capacity to damage it. And hopefully save it.

But here’s the thing: Presumably, by getting involved in life through Jesus, et al, God thinks enough of us to believe we can handle the responsibility. We aren’t God. But we too can love. We too can work together creatively. For that reason- God’s faith in us- I have faith in our common future. We may be a speck on a speck on a speck on a speck. But that speck ultimately rests on the beating heart of God. Whose name is Love, whose hope is endless and who knows us well enough to have faith.

Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Making commitments…

I love the freedom of our denomination. “No Creed but Christ, No Book but the Bible, No Law but Love,” and all that wonderful jazz. I love how this takes people seriously, encouraging- even expecting- diverse individuals to add value to a common, greater whole. I love how one set of songs in one church is hardly played in another church, each finding its own voice in praise to God. People can think and believe for themselves in our churches; hallelujah for that! Enough other forces in our culture demand conformity. Thank God for a church who doesn’t.

That said, it’s not like we Disciples lack things distinctive, or shared. We do weekly communion. We baptize by immersion and personal decision. We call “Unity our Polar Star,” thus working and playing well with others. And something most Disciples churches do that many others don’t is what we’ve called “The Invitation”, about which someone reminded me recently.

Brief history sidebar- The Invitation is, to my mind, an homage to our frontier, evangelical past. Folk would gather for days in revival camps, hearing rotating hoards of preachers. They’d sing and eat together, love each other, worship God. Then, inevitably, attendees would be asked to make a choice. “Will you decide to follow Jesus? Will you come forward and give your life to God?!” I’ve attended modern forms of such revival services, been egged (bullied?) into coming forward several times. It can be exhilarating, intimidating, exciting, demeaning. Depending, of course, on who the preacher is and how fervent their ‘invitation’.

Well, as our church evolved, became a gathering of settled communities with weekly services, such revival activity receded. Nevertheless, we retained The Invitation, albeit in new forms. A pastor or elder might stand up after the sermon or near the service’s end, say, “We now invite forward any who’d join our church or commit their lives to Jesus.” Typically, a song would be sung and perhaps someone might come forward. The church where I was ordained did it one way, the church I served just after seminary another. We are free, after all, but The Invitation abided.

In fact, Plymouth Creek had an Invitation when I first arrived, remember? Thus, like a good Disciples minister, I’d stand before the church, give the call, and we’d sing while I waited up front. But we stopped doing it a few years back because, well, it had started to feel awkward. Folk would look around, whispering, “You think anyone will join the church today?” And since I firmly believe churches ought never do something just because they think they should, we jettisoned The Invitation as a weekly PCCC experience. I mean, on Sundays I knew someone was joining, I’d insert it again. But mostly it’s fallen off our radar screen, and for good reason.

The other day, though, someone asked me about it. And I thought it might be interesting to reexamine this practice together. You’ll notice that in our bulletin this week, and likely for many to come, what had been titled the “Sending Song” is now the “Commitment Song.” The thinking goes that this particular element needn’t be simply about so-called ‘outsiders.’ But all churchgoers, young, old and otherwise, new to the community, founding members, everyone has the opportunity, every week, to ‘recommit’ themselves to God. To shining a beacon of openness and service in the NW suburbs of Minneapolis and beyond! In other words, The Invitation can be a reminder to us all about our faithfulness, our commitment to being the very best Christian we know how to be.

I like that idea. Thus, I’m glad someone challenged me to reintroduce it! I hope, then, you’ll see it for what it is- an encouragement, something exciting. After all, you and I and all who’d join us are invited by God- by God!- to spread unconditional hospitality, joyful service to neighbors in need, friendly, intimate community and freedom of belief. How cool is that?! Why not give ourselves regular opportunities to recommit?! I, for one, intend to take them. It’s always nice to feel invited.

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Investing in each other…

Last year, when our church declared a new vision (all together now, “To become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the NW suburbs”!), we also claimed four core values. And one’s been on my mind recently- Friendly, intimate community.

Sometimes small churches like ours have self-image problems. They unconsciously buy into society’s myth that “Big=Good”. All would be well, they tell themselves, if only we were larger, grew 50%, if more folk were giving. Not realizing that all churches, whatever their size, face similar challenges. Nevertheless, they come to see their size as a problem, a symptom of failure, even, as if their size makes neighbors cringe and God unhappy.

By lifting up “intimate community” as a core value, however, Plymouth Creek took a different route. We acknowledge that our congregation, while not what everyone’s seeking, has a unique role to play in our community. Specifically, we claim that God’s love works most powerfully in close, intimate relationships between sisters and brothers of faith. In other words, our size helps us pursue our mission. We know each other. We can challenge and change each other, therefore, with God’s help and by sharing love in all we do. It is a good thing, indeed, to be part of Plymouth Creek, participating in friendly, intimate community that strives to reflect God’s unfailing love!

And to put that core value into greater practice, we’re changing Sunday School. Of course, we know there aren’t huge numbers of children and youth bursting the doors of Plymouth Creek, presently. So the old model of age and grade specific Sunday School can’t work in our midst. It wouldn’t be effective for the young ones, nor exciting for teachers. Yet we have some joyful, thoughtful and creative young folk whose Christian Education we ought take seriously, as well as an opportunity to offer families beyond our walls something different. And profound.

So to make that happen, we’re combining a few different models into one that, I pray, will become an exciting addition to our ministry profile. Rather than split the kids up, we’re going to put them all together, encouraging learning through relationships, through children and youth investing in each another. Get this: Every month, our Sunday School will focus on just one story, one part of the Bible’s greater story that we believe is important. But every week in the month, we’ll encounter that story in a new way. Crafts. Videos/Skits. Games/Activities. Books. Music. Therefore, by month’s end, our children and youth will really know what’s going on, having explored the Exodus, for instance, or the parable of the Good Samaritan, in a variety of formats, all exciting and meaningful.

And while I’ll lead these activities, it won’t just be Pastor Shane speaking. All participants will interact with and, therefore, teach each other. So older youth, who may know much already, will help younger ones paint pictures, create crafts, sing songs, make movies. And younger ones, through their unique ideas, will help older youth (and me!) see God’s story in whole new ways. And what’s more is I’d love it if I wasn’t the only adult participating. Wanna help me teach and learn more about the Bible?! If so, let me know. I’ll share more about our plans with you. As importantly, tell your friends about the different kind of learning their kids can do.

After all, friendly, intimate community works best when we invest in each other. So why not celebrate this God-given uniqueness of following Christ at Plymouth Creek?! Adult Sunday School will remain meeting together, and I hope more of you participate. Though I can’t promise that me, the children and youth won’t be laughing and singing loudly! But however you find it meaningful to learn and grow as a Christian, I pray you make that a priority this school year and beyond. I mean, none of us are ever finished learning more about God and God’s role in our lives, right? Indeed, if ever there’s a friendly, intimate relationship to nurture, that’s certainly the one.

Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!