We had a tough January, didn’t we? And I’m obviously talking about more than cold weather. A couple beloved members passed into God’s forever embrace. That’s tough, although I think one of the most sacred things about church is the time we take to honor departed sisters and brothers in faith. From hospital visits and phone calls, to funeral and graveside services, to remembrances on All Saints Day or using Memorial Funds to leave legacies. This matters because I think our culture has a dysfunctional relationship to death. We barely mention it, manically fear it, put dying people into homes and hospitals for few to see.
But as Dorothy Bass claims in her excellent Practicing Our Faith, proper Christian faith nurtures the practice of “dying well”. And by that she means more than going out the most painless way possible. Rather, “dying well” is about preparing for the end, not endlessly avoiding it. Holding a scared friend’s hand as days grow dim, softly stroking her aching limbs. Singing long-cherished hymns with a sister in faith who lost her voice, or a brother in faith who can’t remember anything else. Looking a dying friend in the eye, saying, “Be strong. We’ll meet again.” And meaning it, in Jesus’ name.
Here’s a wonderful poem- Holy Sonnet 10 by John Donne- that’s bounced around my head the past several weeks:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
At a recent meeting, I recited those words with almost defiant passion. After all, these days my spirit’s waters are churning and roiling and certainly far from the stillness of Psalm 23. But it occurred to me just after that, for Christians committed to Christ, we need not defy Death, nor confront that enemy with anger, screaming, “Our God won!” Rather, as Emma Thomson’s character observes in the brilliant film Wit, that last sentence uses but a comma, a short and whimsical pause, almost apologetic: Death, thou shalt die.
You’ve maybe heard by now that I helped write the 2013 Lenten devotional published by our denomination’s publishing house. We have copies in the office, only $3. The book is organized so that every day includes a scripture, a reflection and a prayer, i.e. 3-5 short minutes to start or end your day with divine companionship.
And the theme for this devotional is “Letting Go.” Which makes sense, right? It’s Lent. “Letting go” of many things makes sense during this season especially. Thus, each week the writers reflect on their attempts to “let go” of something- fear, consumption, control, sin, self…control. We chose that notion because the end of Lent, that glorious Easter morn, when Jesus overcame even Death itself, is that wondrous moment revealing to Christians that new life and hope are perpetually possible. And to experience that anew this year, we wanted to challenge Disciples to slough off our baggage, acknowledge what’s holding us back and just let go! So I encourage you to join me in reading that daily this Lent; I plan to gather folk at church each Wednesday of the season (starting February 20, 6 PM) for conversation on what we’re learning. Then, each Sunday, I’ll preach on one of those themes. Given all that’s flooded my (our?) spirit this past month, I’m ready again to let go! To attempt once more to cast myself fully into the eternally supportive love of God.
You should join me.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Doing ministry,
Today’s letter is different. It’s two extended announcements. Or rather, my attempt to solicit feedback on what you’d like your church to do.
1) Over the past year, we’ve partnered with St. Barnabas Lutheran on the first Wednesday night of each month. Together, the hope was, we’d recruit volunteers to staff IOCP’s foodshelf and thrift store, 5:30-8PM, so they could keep it open later. Other churches took the other Wednesdays.
Since then, St. Barny’s stopped sending their youth, so they’ve had less volunteers attending. Our volunteers have fluctuated, though recently we’ve been absent. IOCP needs 6-8 foodshelf volunteers each time, and 4-5 thrift store. Regulars can arrive by 5:45. 5:30 for training for first timers. If we stick with St. Barny’s, we’d probably need 5-7 each month. If we switched to Thursdays, once a month, as IOCP now offers, we’d need 10-13 (more, yes, but that would let choir folk participate). Or we could decide this isn’t for us.
Personally, I’d like Plymouth Creekers to do more volunteer service together, and more regularly. It helps build relationships, connect visitors, grow in faith. But I don’t know if church members want this too. So will you please tell me whether you’d like to participate in either of those options, and if so, how regularly you could commit? Those who’ve served before have really enjoyed it…just sayin’…
2) In just the past two weeks, we received a neat opportunity. A pastor I know and respect in Des Moines wrote me, “Shane, the family of a young man who grew up in my church moved to MN last year. Now, he’s looking for a church to do an unpaid internship this Spring. He’s a college junior, considering ordained ministry. So I told him about Plymouth Creek. He checked and liked your website. Heads up that he’ll be calling. Btw, I think he’s a wonderful young man.”
Sure enough, we traded emails, then had a video conference interview. I, too, found him bright and delightful. I asked the Board their verdict on hosting him as a full-time intern for two months (April 8-June 2), and they gave an enthusiastic, “Yes”.
What I’d like from the church, then, are your ideas on how to use his time best, particularly helping him understand what effective church pastors need to do. Feel free to send me project ideas, studies you’d attend, invitations to coffee/lunch at your place, whatever! In other words, I’m hopeful you’ll all pitch in somehow to make the experience a success. He’ll be blown away, I’m sure, by your creativity, faithfulness and wisdom!
I also asked him to write a short intro, so you could learn of him firsthand. Here’s what he sent:
Hi, my name is Hayden. I'm a junior at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH, studying Math and Philosophy. I grew up mostly in West Des Moines, IA, but my family, including my parents Dave and Sandy and two little sisters Bailey (13) and Lacey (11), recently moved to Excelsior, MN, which is how I became acquainted with your church! While it may not be clear from my majors, I've been working out a call into the ministry since about my junior year of high school through prayer, some campus ministries, a few classes I've taken, and participation in worship at the church I attend here at Dartmouth. Accordingly, I'm quite excited to start considering that call a little bit more concretely through my time serving at Plymouth Creek, and very thankful for your support in that process. During my time with you all I hope to gain a better understanding of what it's like to be a minister, to continue learning about the Disciples of Christ, and to grow in knowledge of the specific areas of ministry to which God is calling me, whether that be preaching, church leadership, counseling, teaching, or some combination of them all! In my free time I enjoy walking, singing, reading, praying, playing sports, and talking with others. Hopefully we can do some of those things together soon!
Until then, God bless, Hayden
There we have it, your soon-to-be newest intern! Lots of ministry ahead, amen? Good.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
1) Over the past year, we’ve partnered with St. Barnabas Lutheran on the first Wednesday night of each month. Together, the hope was, we’d recruit volunteers to staff IOCP’s foodshelf and thrift store, 5:30-8PM, so they could keep it open later. Other churches took the other Wednesdays.
Since then, St. Barny’s stopped sending their youth, so they’ve had less volunteers attending. Our volunteers have fluctuated, though recently we’ve been absent. IOCP needs 6-8 foodshelf volunteers each time, and 4-5 thrift store. Regulars can arrive by 5:45. 5:30 for training for first timers. If we stick with St. Barny’s, we’d probably need 5-7 each month. If we switched to Thursdays, once a month, as IOCP now offers, we’d need 10-13 (more, yes, but that would let choir folk participate). Or we could decide this isn’t for us.
Personally, I’d like Plymouth Creekers to do more volunteer service together, and more regularly. It helps build relationships, connect visitors, grow in faith. But I don’t know if church members want this too. So will you please tell me whether you’d like to participate in either of those options, and if so, how regularly you could commit? Those who’ve served before have really enjoyed it…just sayin’…
2) In just the past two weeks, we received a neat opportunity. A pastor I know and respect in Des Moines wrote me, “Shane, the family of a young man who grew up in my church moved to MN last year. Now, he’s looking for a church to do an unpaid internship this Spring. He’s a college junior, considering ordained ministry. So I told him about Plymouth Creek. He checked and liked your website. Heads up that he’ll be calling. Btw, I think he’s a wonderful young man.”
Sure enough, we traded emails, then had a video conference interview. I, too, found him bright and delightful. I asked the Board their verdict on hosting him as a full-time intern for two months (April 8-June 2), and they gave an enthusiastic, “Yes”.
What I’d like from the church, then, are your ideas on how to use his time best, particularly helping him understand what effective church pastors need to do. Feel free to send me project ideas, studies you’d attend, invitations to coffee/lunch at your place, whatever! In other words, I’m hopeful you’ll all pitch in somehow to make the experience a success. He’ll be blown away, I’m sure, by your creativity, faithfulness and wisdom!
I also asked him to write a short intro, so you could learn of him firsthand. Here’s what he sent:
Hi, my name is Hayden. I'm a junior at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH, studying Math and Philosophy. I grew up mostly in West Des Moines, IA, but my family, including my parents Dave and Sandy and two little sisters Bailey (13) and Lacey (11), recently moved to Excelsior, MN, which is how I became acquainted with your church! While it may not be clear from my majors, I've been working out a call into the ministry since about my junior year of high school through prayer, some campus ministries, a few classes I've taken, and participation in worship at the church I attend here at Dartmouth. Accordingly, I'm quite excited to start considering that call a little bit more concretely through my time serving at Plymouth Creek, and very thankful for your support in that process. During my time with you all I hope to gain a better understanding of what it's like to be a minister, to continue learning about the Disciples of Christ, and to grow in knowledge of the specific areas of ministry to which God is calling me, whether that be preaching, church leadership, counseling, teaching, or some combination of them all! In my free time I enjoy walking, singing, reading, praying, playing sports, and talking with others. Hopefully we can do some of those things together soon!
Until then, God bless, Hayden
There we have it, your soon-to-be newest intern! Lots of ministry ahead, amen? Good.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Clear breathing…
A vile demon has spent the past week assaulting my precious lungs. Every breath I take, it seems, demands excess wheezing and a hearty cough. This afflicting agent (some blasted cold/flu) has abided in my system longer now than any such enemy I’ve battled in recent years. And the length of its unwelcome drawn-out stay reminds me how taken for granted my normal inhalation routine is!
You ever hear people say that our brains “only use 10% of their capacity”? I’m never sure what to make of that statistic; sounds like some misinterpreted, complex study repeated until it became accepted truth.
Nevertheless, I’ve long thought that, if that claim’s onto something, it’s a reminder of how much occurs in our bodies that we rarely control. Like heartbeats, toenail growth, immune system responses. And breath. Indeed, many times I’m actively thinking about my breath are when I don’t want to be! When water’s gone down the wrong tube and I’m gulping for oxygen. When I land on a table and have my breath knocked out. And when I’m hacking up an infection that’s turning my lungs into Bunker Hill. Otherwise, breath just happens; in-out, in-out. Another of the body’s miracles. Another of God’s gifts.
Y’all might recall that ancient Hebrew uses the same word for “breath” as it does “wind” and “spirit”. Ruach, is the English transliterative, and I find the overlapping meanings significant. Like breath, wind is something elusive, misty, transient. John 10:8 quotes Jesus saying, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” That’s one of those esoteric, hard to grasp, significant sounding scriptures. I guess the point is that breath seems to share with wind, and spirit, similar in-out, insubstantial, utterly essential for life characteristics. The Spirit of God moved “over the waters” and created life, Genesis 1 contends. Or maybe it was the wind of God. The breath of God…!
Here’s what I’ve learned about my breath, over the years, and I wonder if the same applies to my spirit (we’ll leave wind aside!). During meditation exercises, or yoga, or long-distance running, I’m intentionally more conscious of my breath than usual. Good singers share this consciousness too; they breathe deep and in “proper” fashion. Not shallow, gulpy breaths that lift their shoulders and don’t bring in good air. But from the diaphragm, the depths of their stomachs, pushing out the gut. That’s where a deep breath arises, after all, one that spreads life-giving air throughout the entire body. During physical activities (running, singing), this matters because the lungs and muscles are screaming out for as much air as possible, right now, thank you very much! During focusing activities (yoga, meditation, prayer), this matters because the deeper the breathing, the stronger the concentration you create. Plus, those are physical activities too. In other words, this deep breathing practice puts the mind and body into a powerful rhythm, one that seemingly reaches into the core of our spirits, and connects us with a more primordial pulse.
At least, that’s the way it can feel if we let our breath work for us, if we’re mindful and open. And as any meditator or long-distance runner will tell you: after the fact, once you’re done focusing so intently on the rhythms of your breath, you feel better. Your peaceful, energized. Your spirit’s lifted. Plus, it gets easier with practice. Pianists talk about how, if they don’t practice for a day, they can tell. A week, their critics can tell. Two weeks, everyone can! Prayerful people say much the same; you just get into a rhythm. Our spirits enjoy the attention, the discipline, the growth.
Which is all basically my random musings on the fact I’m not breathing as well these days as I wish! Perhaps once my lungs have expunged this demon, though, I’ll get back to breathing more deeply, more consciously. Attending more consistently to the connection my breath has with my spirit; trying to catch more frequently the beautiful winds of God.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
You ever hear people say that our brains “only use 10% of their capacity”? I’m never sure what to make of that statistic; sounds like some misinterpreted, complex study repeated until it became accepted truth.
Nevertheless, I’ve long thought that, if that claim’s onto something, it’s a reminder of how much occurs in our bodies that we rarely control. Like heartbeats, toenail growth, immune system responses. And breath. Indeed, many times I’m actively thinking about my breath are when I don’t want to be! When water’s gone down the wrong tube and I’m gulping for oxygen. When I land on a table and have my breath knocked out. And when I’m hacking up an infection that’s turning my lungs into Bunker Hill. Otherwise, breath just happens; in-out, in-out. Another of the body’s miracles. Another of God’s gifts.
Y’all might recall that ancient Hebrew uses the same word for “breath” as it does “wind” and “spirit”. Ruach, is the English transliterative, and I find the overlapping meanings significant. Like breath, wind is something elusive, misty, transient. John 10:8 quotes Jesus saying, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” That’s one of those esoteric, hard to grasp, significant sounding scriptures. I guess the point is that breath seems to share with wind, and spirit, similar in-out, insubstantial, utterly essential for life characteristics. The Spirit of God moved “over the waters” and created life, Genesis 1 contends. Or maybe it was the wind of God. The breath of God…!
Here’s what I’ve learned about my breath, over the years, and I wonder if the same applies to my spirit (we’ll leave wind aside!). During meditation exercises, or yoga, or long-distance running, I’m intentionally more conscious of my breath than usual. Good singers share this consciousness too; they breathe deep and in “proper” fashion. Not shallow, gulpy breaths that lift their shoulders and don’t bring in good air. But from the diaphragm, the depths of their stomachs, pushing out the gut. That’s where a deep breath arises, after all, one that spreads life-giving air throughout the entire body. During physical activities (running, singing), this matters because the lungs and muscles are screaming out for as much air as possible, right now, thank you very much! During focusing activities (yoga, meditation, prayer), this matters because the deeper the breathing, the stronger the concentration you create. Plus, those are physical activities too. In other words, this deep breathing practice puts the mind and body into a powerful rhythm, one that seemingly reaches into the core of our spirits, and connects us with a more primordial pulse.
At least, that’s the way it can feel if we let our breath work for us, if we’re mindful and open. And as any meditator or long-distance runner will tell you: after the fact, once you’re done focusing so intently on the rhythms of your breath, you feel better. Your peaceful, energized. Your spirit’s lifted. Plus, it gets easier with practice. Pianists talk about how, if they don’t practice for a day, they can tell. A week, their critics can tell. Two weeks, everyone can! Prayerful people say much the same; you just get into a rhythm. Our spirits enjoy the attention, the discipline, the growth.
Which is all basically my random musings on the fact I’m not breathing as well these days as I wish! Perhaps once my lungs have expunged this demon, though, I’ll get back to breathing more deeply, more consciously. Attending more consistently to the connection my breath has with my spirit; trying to catch more frequently the beautiful winds of God.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Story time matters...
Our annual Cinema Sermon Series begins this Sunday; several sermons of pairing scripture with film. First up: The Hunger Games, a 2012 adaptation of a young adult book series I found gripping. I know not every Plymouth Creeker is a big movie fan. So you may wonder why each year I take time out for this preaching practice. Am I bored with the Bible? Looking for excuses to watch more movies? Or is there…maybe…a deeper reason?
Well, I hope there’s more to it than subjecting y’all to my silver screen fascination! It has to do, basically, with Jesus, four year-olds and brain development.
Here’s what I mean: You may’ve heard about IOCP’s program called the Caring for Kids Initiative (CfKI). It supports low-income families in our community by offering scholarships for quality preschool. The program’s theory derives from research that strongly shows that good early childhood education helps poor children better prepare for kindergarten. And being prepared for Kindergarten helps them achieve better in school, graduate more frequently, avoid drugs and prison in later life, etc. A great investment for both society and these families. But to make sure their work was successful, in 2010 CfKI sponsored a study of themselves. They tested children with CfKI scholarships and not from similar backgrounds, and found that yes, indeed, CfKI kids scored higher than their counterparts in every tested measure.
Expect for one-“Story Comprehension,” i.e. how well kids who’ve been read books can tell you, after the fact, what happened. The main character’s name. The basic plot outline. Fortunately, gains in other areas justified continued CfKI funding. But because Story Comprehension is a vital component to childhood development, CfKI started a new program to combat the deficiency.
They call it Story Time Matters. It involves recruiting community volunteers who read books to CfKI kids and ask basic questions after the fact. Simple, right? And what do you know? After the program’s first year, CfKI kids showed improvement. Which not only increased scores, but set them up better for a life of learning. Because the program title isn’t just cute. It’s truthful. Stories matter.
Ever notice how Jesus used stories to make his most memorable points? “Who’s my neighbor, whom I should love,” a guy asked him. Jesus said, “Let me tell you about this good Samaritan.” “What’s God’s Kingdom like?” “Here’s a story of Sheep and Goats, a Lost Sheep.” “Who is God?” “Have you heard the one about that Prodigal Son?” Of course, his audience wasn’t just four year-olds beginning their brain’s development. Still, he knew that stories matter well beyond our developmental years.
Indeed, I’m convinced that how we understand our lives, identities, God is indissolubly linked to the stories we tell ourselves. About good and bad, hope and despair. “Who am I,” a person asks. Answer: a story about her birthplace, family, maturation. “Who is God,” the Israelites asked in Sinai. God answered, “I am the LORD, who brought you out of slavery in Egypt…” Stories matter. Story time matters, therefore, if we’re to grow in spirit and mission. That’s why we read the Bible, and why I preach on movies regularly.
You see, the method of storytelling that Jesus preferred- parables- worked for his audience. Oral communication was well respected. Plus, they lacked video cameras! Were he to live these days, however, I’m convinced Jesus would enjoy movies, film and Youtube. See them as opportunities to tell stories about everyday life (like the parables), communicated with dramatic impact. And that matters because we learn through stories, our brains are constructed through “narrative reasoning,” some say. What matters, then, are how well we tell the stories and what they’re encouraging us to believe. Are we convinced life has a happy ending? Does that provide us faith, courage and hope? I think telling the stories of God’s presence with us helps such good things grow in our spirits. And using contemporary storytelling forms like movies helps us integrate that divine story into the ones we tell ourselves.
Besides, stories are enjoyable! Jesus never said church should be bland and boring! So I hope you enjoy this year’s cinema series. Lights…camera…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Well, I hope there’s more to it than subjecting y’all to my silver screen fascination! It has to do, basically, with Jesus, four year-olds and brain development.
Here’s what I mean: You may’ve heard about IOCP’s program called the Caring for Kids Initiative (CfKI). It supports low-income families in our community by offering scholarships for quality preschool. The program’s theory derives from research that strongly shows that good early childhood education helps poor children better prepare for kindergarten. And being prepared for Kindergarten helps them achieve better in school, graduate more frequently, avoid drugs and prison in later life, etc. A great investment for both society and these families. But to make sure their work was successful, in 2010 CfKI sponsored a study of themselves. They tested children with CfKI scholarships and not from similar backgrounds, and found that yes, indeed, CfKI kids scored higher than their counterparts in every tested measure.
Expect for one-“Story Comprehension,” i.e. how well kids who’ve been read books can tell you, after the fact, what happened. The main character’s name. The basic plot outline. Fortunately, gains in other areas justified continued CfKI funding. But because Story Comprehension is a vital component to childhood development, CfKI started a new program to combat the deficiency.
They call it Story Time Matters. It involves recruiting community volunteers who read books to CfKI kids and ask basic questions after the fact. Simple, right? And what do you know? After the program’s first year, CfKI kids showed improvement. Which not only increased scores, but set them up better for a life of learning. Because the program title isn’t just cute. It’s truthful. Stories matter.
Ever notice how Jesus used stories to make his most memorable points? “Who’s my neighbor, whom I should love,” a guy asked him. Jesus said, “Let me tell you about this good Samaritan.” “What’s God’s Kingdom like?” “Here’s a story of Sheep and Goats, a Lost Sheep.” “Who is God?” “Have you heard the one about that Prodigal Son?” Of course, his audience wasn’t just four year-olds beginning their brain’s development. Still, he knew that stories matter well beyond our developmental years.
Indeed, I’m convinced that how we understand our lives, identities, God is indissolubly linked to the stories we tell ourselves. About good and bad, hope and despair. “Who am I,” a person asks. Answer: a story about her birthplace, family, maturation. “Who is God,” the Israelites asked in Sinai. God answered, “I am the LORD, who brought you out of slavery in Egypt…” Stories matter. Story time matters, therefore, if we’re to grow in spirit and mission. That’s why we read the Bible, and why I preach on movies regularly.
You see, the method of storytelling that Jesus preferred- parables- worked for his audience. Oral communication was well respected. Plus, they lacked video cameras! Were he to live these days, however, I’m convinced Jesus would enjoy movies, film and Youtube. See them as opportunities to tell stories about everyday life (like the parables), communicated with dramatic impact. And that matters because we learn through stories, our brains are constructed through “narrative reasoning,” some say. What matters, then, are how well we tell the stories and what they’re encouraging us to believe. Are we convinced life has a happy ending? Does that provide us faith, courage and hope? I think telling the stories of God’s presence with us helps such good things grow in our spirits. And using contemporary storytelling forms like movies helps us integrate that divine story into the ones we tell ourselves.
Besides, stories are enjoyable! Jesus never said church should be bland and boring! So I hope you enjoy this year’s cinema series. Lights…camera…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Looking good…
Last month, I drove to St. Paul in order to pick up a form for church, which gave me time in the car during the middle of the day to listen to public radio. Lo and behold, they had a scientist on discussing a favorite topic: climate science, global warming and Christian responsibility.
Quick disclaimer: As y’all likely know, I’m one of those greenie worrywarts who consider global warming a civilizational threat. I respect many who feel different, who may treat claims of human-caused climate change with skepticism. To my mind, however, the case has been made, and it’s a serious, urgent issue. Thus, if your perspective differs from mine, you have permission to stop reading!
…
Still around? Great! I wanted to share a religious comment this scientist made. But before you get all “science v. religion” defensive, he confessed to active membership in his local Methodist church! Anyway, he also described traveling the country to speak about humanity’s potential responses to global warming. During which, he said, several negative reactions took on theological tones.
Now, usually I find Biblical theology a wonderful help in this conversation. After all, the Good Book’s first few chapters describe our initial calling as God’s favored creations to be one of stewardship for and respect of earth’s delicate balance. Often, this Biblical perspective helps bridge gaps between climate change skeptics and proponents. Whatever your belief, the argument goes, we are called to care for Creation. So let’s work together, plant some trees and love God!
But there are other doctrines in Scripture, and a certain famous one seems problematic. Namely, the ancient conviction that the earth’s days will end when Jesus returns again. Riding a white horse. Pulling a gleaming sword from his throat (wild stuff!!). The Parousia, or Second Coming, this notion is known as. And for many devout Christians, it throws a monkey wrench in environmentalism.
That’s what this scientist encountered, at least. You can understand why. Folk would ask, “You’re a person of faith. So why care about this issue? When Jesus returns, the world will end. We’ll go to Heaven. That’s that.” However crude that sounds, it convinces many serious Christians. God is sovereign, they say. God’s will be done, they pray. Why worry so about something as amorphous as the atmosphere, as uncontrollable as the weather? Just go to church, help the poor, let God be God, right? It’s a powerful idea, even I think, me who loves me some tree-hugging. Either you deny the veracity of the Second Coming (which I might be willing to tolerate…just sayin’), or you exercise God-given dominion over the earth and stop worrying.
But this guy had a third option to that puzzle that I’d never heard before; one I found (w)holy convincing, commonsensical and thus wanted to share with you.
In response to the supposition that Jesus’ Second Coming absolves us from global warming (or any environmental) responsibility, he asked listeners to imagine Christ returning before their eyes. Then, he asked, “Would you really want to say to Jesus, when he comes again into your presence, ‘We knew you were coming, Lord. So we trashed the place!’”
Well, no. I wouldn’t want to say that! Sounds lame, when you put it that way. Thus, in my mind, are the Good Book’s beginning and ending now resolved. God created us to co-create with God, to help tend Creation’s balance. Therefore, even in the event Jesus returns to end history and stop global warming by divine fiat, the responsible response wouldn’t be, “While you were gone, I gutted your home.” It’s rather, “Look how lovely we kept the joint. We even worked on improvements!”
However you think about the issue, I’d be curious to know your feedback to this scientist’s statement. And to the fact that, Second Coming or not, there’s another Biblical doctrine that matters here too. Christ declared at his Ascension, “I will be with you always.” To watch over us, forgive us, unite us. Inspire us; perhaps even to do the impossible- to care for Creation as the Creator would too.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Quick disclaimer: As y’all likely know, I’m one of those greenie worrywarts who consider global warming a civilizational threat. I respect many who feel different, who may treat claims of human-caused climate change with skepticism. To my mind, however, the case has been made, and it’s a serious, urgent issue. Thus, if your perspective differs from mine, you have permission to stop reading!
…
Still around? Great! I wanted to share a religious comment this scientist made. But before you get all “science v. religion” defensive, he confessed to active membership in his local Methodist church! Anyway, he also described traveling the country to speak about humanity’s potential responses to global warming. During which, he said, several negative reactions took on theological tones.
Now, usually I find Biblical theology a wonderful help in this conversation. After all, the Good Book’s first few chapters describe our initial calling as God’s favored creations to be one of stewardship for and respect of earth’s delicate balance. Often, this Biblical perspective helps bridge gaps between climate change skeptics and proponents. Whatever your belief, the argument goes, we are called to care for Creation. So let’s work together, plant some trees and love God!
But there are other doctrines in Scripture, and a certain famous one seems problematic. Namely, the ancient conviction that the earth’s days will end when Jesus returns again. Riding a white horse. Pulling a gleaming sword from his throat (wild stuff!!). The Parousia, or Second Coming, this notion is known as. And for many devout Christians, it throws a monkey wrench in environmentalism.
That’s what this scientist encountered, at least. You can understand why. Folk would ask, “You’re a person of faith. So why care about this issue? When Jesus returns, the world will end. We’ll go to Heaven. That’s that.” However crude that sounds, it convinces many serious Christians. God is sovereign, they say. God’s will be done, they pray. Why worry so about something as amorphous as the atmosphere, as uncontrollable as the weather? Just go to church, help the poor, let God be God, right? It’s a powerful idea, even I think, me who loves me some tree-hugging. Either you deny the veracity of the Second Coming (which I might be willing to tolerate…just sayin’), or you exercise God-given dominion over the earth and stop worrying.
But this guy had a third option to that puzzle that I’d never heard before; one I found (w)holy convincing, commonsensical and thus wanted to share with you.
In response to the supposition that Jesus’ Second Coming absolves us from global warming (or any environmental) responsibility, he asked listeners to imagine Christ returning before their eyes. Then, he asked, “Would you really want to say to Jesus, when he comes again into your presence, ‘We knew you were coming, Lord. So we trashed the place!’”
Well, no. I wouldn’t want to say that! Sounds lame, when you put it that way. Thus, in my mind, are the Good Book’s beginning and ending now resolved. God created us to co-create with God, to help tend Creation’s balance. Therefore, even in the event Jesus returns to end history and stop global warming by divine fiat, the responsible response wouldn’t be, “While you were gone, I gutted your home.” It’s rather, “Look how lovely we kept the joint. We even worked on improvements!”
However you think about the issue, I’d be curious to know your feedback to this scientist’s statement. And to the fact that, Second Coming or not, there’s another Biblical doctrine that matters here too. Christ declared at his Ascension, “I will be with you always.” To watch over us, forgive us, unite us. Inspire us; perhaps even to do the impossible- to care for Creation as the Creator would too.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Friday, December 28, 2012
Courage and Faith…
The background picture on my laptop (aka- “the wallpaper”) changes regularly. Variety is the spice of life, right? Every new image, though, induces from me much soul-searching and anguish. What do I find beautiful? What matters to me? What reflects my values? Blah, blah, blah. One might suspect that I put too much thought into an entirely insignificant decision. I do. I own it. So I’ve decided to use it, instituting a personal policy several months ago to tie each wallpaper change to upcoming sermons. A pictorial guide for what I hope to preach.
Turns out that doing this weekly proved too time consuming. So I adapted, and now change the wallpaper as new sermon series arise, keeping one around for weeks. I chose an expansive, verdant banyan tree when I preached on remaking Paradise in our midst. In summer, when we explored interfaith spiritual gurus, I had whirling dervishes circling across my screen. Now it’s time for another change, because the annual Cinema Sermon Series approaches. I’m calling the 2013 version “More than Belief, Faith Is Courage”. So what image evocatively depicts that idea?
Well, before I reveal my choice (isn’t suspense fun?), I should explain the concept some. First, ponder common understandings of what “faith” means. If someone said, “Describe your faith,” what would you say? I’d guess most American Christians would respond with something like, “I believe in Jesus, God, and maybe the Holy Spirit…” And should you follow up, “Tell me more about faith in Jesus,” you’d likely hear, “He died for sin, rose again. That’s what I believe.”
In other words, for reasons too complicated for this letter to do justice, many equate the term faith with the concept belief. As if they’re synonyms, we surmise that what we believe is the essential content of our faith. Thus, “I believe in Jesus” = “I have faith in Jesus”.
But consider who you’d put on your laptop wallpaper if asked to select a favorite Champion of Faith. You know, a religious hero, someone who impeccably embodies what “faithfulness” means. Belief might be part of your decision, though would that be it? Like, say, you chose Mother Teresa (and many would, for good reason), you’d have to acknowledge that for her, faith transcended belief. In posthumously published writings, Mother Teresa revealed that for long stretches of time she struggled to believe. She continued serving the poor, helping the vulnerable, cleaning festering wounds, all while aching with regret at sometimes lacking belief. Still, I dare you to argue that she lacked faith!
And Mother Teresa’s not alone. Other faithful champions in Christian history wrestled with doubt- Martin Luther, Dorothy Day, Peter, Paul and Mary. Ultimately, though, these blessed souls each showed the divine power of lived faith. Not because they believed more muscularly than others- purely, rightly and always true- but because through every peak and valley of this complex life, every whipping wave threatening to maroon their souls on rocky shores, they held fast. They dug deep. Stared unblinking into the abyss. Which is to say, they displayed profound boldness. Courage.
And I wonder if that’s the more essential part of faith than belief.
So this winter’s Cinema Sermon Series movies will explore the theory that “More than Belief, Faith Is Courage”. Again, we can’t neglect belief, but we can affirm its proper order. And I think it comes after we nurture the courage to trust God and live for love. FYI, the series’ movies will be The Hunger Games, Casablanca and The Shawshank Redemption, because in each courage proves vital. And my wallpaper image for the series, my courageous companion in faith?! It’s Martin Luther King Jr. surrounded by hundreds of marchers, faithfully demanding recognition from their nation that all people are created equal. On those marches, some were mauled and clubbed. Dr. King, of course, was murdered. Yet also on those marches, faithful souls sang, “We Shall Overcome,” proclaiming that deep in their hearts, they certainly believed. Though deeper still, courage burst forth. Changing the world. Inspiring belief. Guiding our hopes for faithfulness still. Have we courage to follow their lead? To be champions of faith ourselves?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Shane
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Celebrating the messenger…
My dog Fawkes has a nemesis. An honest-to-goodness nemesis. I feel bad about it, don’t encourage it. We’re trying to stop it. I just don’t know how to keep Fawkes from barking and clawing, lunging and freaking out whenever the post office delivery person comes to our door. Indeed, when she’s still across the street, Fawkes’ ears perk up. She runs to the front foyer and her psycho puppy personality emerges like an angry Hulk. I’ve apologized to this person many times. I’ll probably do it again. Because this cuddly, crazy canine of mine just doesn’t realize the postal worker’s only a messenger, not a nemesis, bearing tidings of Christmas cards, utility bills and unsolicited credit card applications.
It reminds me of the angel encounters in the Bible’s Christmas stories. Elizabeth, Joseph, Mary, shepherds, all meet heavenly beings in the beginning of Luke and Matthew. Perhaps you knew this already, but if not, here’s some Biblical trivia- The Greek word for angel also means “messenger”. Helpfully distinguishing those characters from other not-quite-human spiritual creatures the ancients imagined surrounding us. Considering some of those other beings were thought devious demons, causes for psychosis or disease, it’s a useful distinction to call spirits like Gabriel, “messengers” or “angels”. Helps Luke’s ancient readers breathe easy. “They’re on our side. Phew!”
Of course, for human characters in Jesus’ Birth stories, the angels’ good intentions weren’t immediately apparent. All they knew initially was that, suddenly, something supernatural was talking…to them! Thus, the typical reaction is shock, dread, panic, fear; poor humans worrying, “Is this phantom friendly? Or might it be a nemesis?!”
Fortunately, the stories hint that neither Mary nor Joseph growled at the angels like Fawkes at the mail carrier. Still, the message the heavenly messengers often begin with is, “Do not fear!” After all, these humans had good reason to be skeptical of their presence. And not just because of their supposed spiritual competition from less than holy sources. It’s that most of us don’t encounter God’s messengers very often.
Which pulls me back to modern times, and contemporary skepticism of such stories. Polls reveal that most Americans believe in the reality of angels. They’re less certain about demons- thankfully!- but winged messengers are welcome. By contrast, surveys of main-line Biblical scholars, I’d bet, would yield starkly different results. Many read these stories as ancient legends, teaching deep truths that transcend fact. Personally, I like what Hamlet, after “seeing” his father’s ghost, says to a skeptical buddy- “There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophies, Horatio!” That’s to say, I’m open to honoring the possibility of angelic-like experiences. Maybe. What I don’t do, though, is build the foundation of my faith on their alleged factuality.
So let me tell you what I do build the foundation of my faith upon. Jesus. The messenger. Not Jesus-the-Angel, but Jesus, God’s revelation, God’s message to Christians. Now, that may sound like a Sunday School cop-out (always answer Jesus!), but the point runs deep. I mean, Christians have forever argued over what Jesus means. What’s his role in our lives? What’s his function in God’s plan? Around Christmas, I feel it’s important to ponder those questions again. After all, we’re celebrating his birth. But why does that matter?
My answer: I believe Jesus reveals- to Christians- the fullest picture of God we know. Jews, Muslims, Buddhists had other messengers; God reveals Godself in many ways! But for Christians, that little Bethlehem babe shows what’s most important to us about God. That God’s strength includes the vulnerability of childbirth. That God’s salvation includes outcast shepherds, voiceless carpenters, ‘foreign’ Zoroastrian wise men. That God’s love can’t be stopped by violent Herod’s paranoia, nor even by Christ’s eventual, unjust execution by Herod’s successor. Therefore, I have faith that God’s love includes me. And you. And all this world’s continued injustice and beauty, sin and possibility.
So join me this Christmas in celebrating God’s messengers. Not just angels or postal carriers, patient with my dog as they are. But the ultimate revelation of God’s unyielding love. The unconquered Son- Jesus.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
It reminds me of the angel encounters in the Bible’s Christmas stories. Elizabeth, Joseph, Mary, shepherds, all meet heavenly beings in the beginning of Luke and Matthew. Perhaps you knew this already, but if not, here’s some Biblical trivia- The Greek word for angel also means “messenger”. Helpfully distinguishing those characters from other not-quite-human spiritual creatures the ancients imagined surrounding us. Considering some of those other beings were thought devious demons, causes for psychosis or disease, it’s a useful distinction to call spirits like Gabriel, “messengers” or “angels”. Helps Luke’s ancient readers breathe easy. “They’re on our side. Phew!”
Of course, for human characters in Jesus’ Birth stories, the angels’ good intentions weren’t immediately apparent. All they knew initially was that, suddenly, something supernatural was talking…to them! Thus, the typical reaction is shock, dread, panic, fear; poor humans worrying, “Is this phantom friendly? Or might it be a nemesis?!”
Fortunately, the stories hint that neither Mary nor Joseph growled at the angels like Fawkes at the mail carrier. Still, the message the heavenly messengers often begin with is, “Do not fear!” After all, these humans had good reason to be skeptical of their presence. And not just because of their supposed spiritual competition from less than holy sources. It’s that most of us don’t encounter God’s messengers very often.
Which pulls me back to modern times, and contemporary skepticism of such stories. Polls reveal that most Americans believe in the reality of angels. They’re less certain about demons- thankfully!- but winged messengers are welcome. By contrast, surveys of main-line Biblical scholars, I’d bet, would yield starkly different results. Many read these stories as ancient legends, teaching deep truths that transcend fact. Personally, I like what Hamlet, after “seeing” his father’s ghost, says to a skeptical buddy- “There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophies, Horatio!” That’s to say, I’m open to honoring the possibility of angelic-like experiences. Maybe. What I don’t do, though, is build the foundation of my faith on their alleged factuality.
So let me tell you what I do build the foundation of my faith upon. Jesus. The messenger. Not Jesus-the-Angel, but Jesus, God’s revelation, God’s message to Christians. Now, that may sound like a Sunday School cop-out (always answer Jesus!), but the point runs deep. I mean, Christians have forever argued over what Jesus means. What’s his role in our lives? What’s his function in God’s plan? Around Christmas, I feel it’s important to ponder those questions again. After all, we’re celebrating his birth. But why does that matter?
My answer: I believe Jesus reveals- to Christians- the fullest picture of God we know. Jews, Muslims, Buddhists had other messengers; God reveals Godself in many ways! But for Christians, that little Bethlehem babe shows what’s most important to us about God. That God’s strength includes the vulnerability of childbirth. That God’s salvation includes outcast shepherds, voiceless carpenters, ‘foreign’ Zoroastrian wise men. That God’s love can’t be stopped by violent Herod’s paranoia, nor even by Christ’s eventual, unjust execution by Herod’s successor. Therefore, I have faith that God’s love includes me. And you. And all this world’s continued injustice and beauty, sin and possibility.
So join me this Christmas in celebrating God’s messengers. Not just angels or postal carriers, patient with my dog as they are. But the ultimate revelation of God’s unyielding love. The unconquered Son- Jesus.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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