I learned last week that as recently as the Civil War, the Great Sphinx of Giza in Egypt lay covered in sands mostly up to its neck. Google images of the Sphinx, and you see that today it sits battered by time, but fully revealed. The famous Egyptian headdress framing an ancient king’s visage; the body of a lean lion resting, waiting; gaping holes of where its nose and beard once were chiseled (and no, that vandalism wasn’t Napoleon’s doing). The interwebs also share grainy photos of its “recent” excavation in the 1870s and 1920s. To think that were I to have lived but 150 years ago, I could have visited this iconic sculpture, and found it mostly buried!
Apparently, that’s been a reoccurring phenomenon in the long life of the Sphinx. Egyptians, Romans, Arabs and others who over the millennia held political control in that territory, found this monument and its nearby great pyramids sometimes gleaming, sometimes neglected. Initial excavations occurred in antiquity. Then more happened centuries later. And again. “How long does that cycle extend,” you might ask. I did, and found the answer: approximately 4,500 years. Looks pretty good for that age, I’d say.
Here’s some perspective on that timeline. Around when Moses led a band of slaves out of Egypt into the Sinai wilderness, the Sphinx had lain unmoving, for nearly 1,300 years. That’s roughly the distance between us and Charlemagne, long ago dubbed the “Father of Western Europe.” Islam had barely begun 1,300 years ago. Christianity was enduring adolescence. We live closer to Jesus than he did to the Sphinx’c construction, by over 500 years. That big statue - and I’m talking ¾-quarters-a-football-field-long BIG- is of considerable age, and endurance.
The guy who built it- King Khafra- probably included it in his funeral preparations. Ancient Egyptian Kings cared a LOT about funerals and burial, as the pyramids and their temples reveal. It was part of their religious observance. They believed that life continued long after a person “passed into the west”, i.e. died. Kings could ease and enhance that passing by preparing monuments, where priests offered worship decades beyond their death. These tombs and temples also had the useful effect of providing jobs, while overawing the populace. Religion, economics, politics and culture intertwined, birthing such incredible creations like the Sphinx.
And again, that was over 4,500 years ago, though religion continues to function in similar ways still. Google Basilica of Sagrada Familia, and you’ll see a provocative neo-Gothic cathedral rising above Barcelona, beautiful and unfinished. Google Wat Rong Khun, and you’ll see a dreamlike, snow-white Buddhist Temple in Thailand, boasting images from the movie The Matrix inside. The economics of religion remain powerful, guiding charity to Pakistani disaster victims, guiding funding to Pakistani terrorists. Ask Iranian officials, or American civil rights demonstrators whether religion still impacts politics, and they’ll both say yes.
Which isn’t, of course, to put terror-cheering mullahs and charity-loving activists on the same moral plane! It’s simply an observation that religion has deep roots in human civilization- for better and for worse- or as Ecclesiastes says, “There’s nothing new under the sun.” And ultimately, the Sphinx’s long life reminds me that whenever Christians or Muslims or whomever claims that “Their religion is best,” that only they have received “God’s truth,” they’re missing a BIG part of the story. If a millennium passed from the building of incredible religious monuments in Egypt to the first flowerings of Ancient Israel and biblical culture, then either a) God was doing something creative before our religion began, or b) God didn’t yet care about humanity. B) sounds unlikely to me. A), however, gives me hope and a sense of wonder. If God could inspire such majestic acts of worship and awe in near-prehistoric civilizations, in people with much less knowledge or power than we, then just imagine what God could do next…with us! If we’re open to it, at least, if we expect that from our religious devotion will emerge creativity and love, not division and fear. Then, millennia from now, will our heirs see in what we leave behind ancient wonders of grandeur? I hope so.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, July 18, 2014
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Women…
I don’t frequently write about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, aka the Mormons, but recently, a news story emerged from that tradition, which caught my eye. A woman who was raised and still attends the LDS church started an organization called Ordain Women. That effort’s purpose is probably self-explanatory, but apparently, also explosive. Her church excommunicated this woman last month, and that’s the news story I heard. That means she’s barred from important rituals but can still attend services, and fully plans to do so. The interview I heard was of a wounded, defiant soul, committed to her faith, as well as to her conviction that her church did her wrong. Indeed, does women wrong by refusing to ordain them priests.
Did you know was that the LDS church and the Disciples of Christ spring from the same branch on the Christian Family Tree? Scholars call it “The Free Church Movement,” describing a phenomenon began on the- then- American Frontier in the 19th century’s first decades. This was a time when the American Revolution’s ideals of liberty and individuality were just being unleashed into the undeveloped Western lands. Of course, American Indians didn’t describe that land as empty- in contrast to white settlers- and suffered tragically as a result. But so it went, and these frontiersmen and women brought religion with them into wide, “open” spaces
And in some cases, they didn’t like that old time religion. Indeed, they were convinced times were a-changin’. They were free! Free to read the Bible and understand God for themselves, and those clergymen telling them what to do could shut it. It nurtured incredible religious creativity. New communities and creeds popped up all over the place. One essential component of that were faithful believers establishing their own churches, celebrating communion themselves.
Plus, on the American frontier, people lived far from each other. Thus, anticlericalism was as practical a concern as it was theological. And it inspired important aspects of the early Disciples movement. We were a Free Church. Farmers and weavers had as much right to serve communion as any clergy. I love that part of our history, ordained though I may be. We’re all equal in God’s sight, hold similar standing in the Kingdom of God. We’re free to worship, pray, serve our neighbors and love Jesus as best as we can create together.
That similar instinct helped birth our Mormon friends too, though they went a few steps farther in freedom. They count another holy book (in fact, three) as authoritative as the canonized Christian Bible. Plus, they never developed a professional clergy class. Their “priests” are volunteer still, essentially layfolk, people- men- who agree to serve as local church leaders for a time, offering counseling, teaching and ritual leadership until their term has ended. Though we had roots grown from the same Free Church soil, our evolution took a different tack. Still, it’s interesting to know that a community some consider so very different is, in fact, a close cousin.
But I’m sad for our spiritual cousins that their path stopped with lay male priests. On the 19th century frontier, traditional gender roles guided both of our thinking. But as our society better realized that “all men are created equal” should’ve included women too, the Disciples’ order of clergy, eventually, opened to gifts and talents of women. We’re a better church for it. With only one gender having access to leadership, we were limiting by half- at least!- the potential for growth, insight and faithfulness. This Mormon woman who is pushing her church to realize the benefits of gender equality has seen the great results of that in our society, and among her religious cousins. She- boldly, profoundly- has declared, “Enough’s enough. Let the Free Church movement move forward!” I’m impressed by this courage, as well as her commitment not to give up the fight and jump ship, but stay as much a part of the community as they’ll let her. She loves her church enough to stick with it and push it to be as full an expression of God’s love as possible. May we all.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Did you know was that the LDS church and the Disciples of Christ spring from the same branch on the Christian Family Tree? Scholars call it “The Free Church Movement,” describing a phenomenon began on the- then- American Frontier in the 19th century’s first decades. This was a time when the American Revolution’s ideals of liberty and individuality were just being unleashed into the undeveloped Western lands. Of course, American Indians didn’t describe that land as empty- in contrast to white settlers- and suffered tragically as a result. But so it went, and these frontiersmen and women brought religion with them into wide, “open” spaces
And in some cases, they didn’t like that old time religion. Indeed, they were convinced times were a-changin’. They were free! Free to read the Bible and understand God for themselves, and those clergymen telling them what to do could shut it. It nurtured incredible religious creativity. New communities and creeds popped up all over the place. One essential component of that were faithful believers establishing their own churches, celebrating communion themselves.
Plus, on the American frontier, people lived far from each other. Thus, anticlericalism was as practical a concern as it was theological. And it inspired important aspects of the early Disciples movement. We were a Free Church. Farmers and weavers had as much right to serve communion as any clergy. I love that part of our history, ordained though I may be. We’re all equal in God’s sight, hold similar standing in the Kingdom of God. We’re free to worship, pray, serve our neighbors and love Jesus as best as we can create together.
That similar instinct helped birth our Mormon friends too, though they went a few steps farther in freedom. They count another holy book (in fact, three) as authoritative as the canonized Christian Bible. Plus, they never developed a professional clergy class. Their “priests” are volunteer still, essentially layfolk, people- men- who agree to serve as local church leaders for a time, offering counseling, teaching and ritual leadership until their term has ended. Though we had roots grown from the same Free Church soil, our evolution took a different tack. Still, it’s interesting to know that a community some consider so very different is, in fact, a close cousin.
But I’m sad for our spiritual cousins that their path stopped with lay male priests. On the 19th century frontier, traditional gender roles guided both of our thinking. But as our society better realized that “all men are created equal” should’ve included women too, the Disciples’ order of clergy, eventually, opened to gifts and talents of women. We’re a better church for it. With only one gender having access to leadership, we were limiting by half- at least!- the potential for growth, insight and faithfulness. This Mormon woman who is pushing her church to realize the benefits of gender equality has seen the great results of that in our society, and among her religious cousins. She- boldly, profoundly- has declared, “Enough’s enough. Let the Free Church movement move forward!” I’m impressed by this courage, as well as her commitment not to give up the fight and jump ship, but stay as much a part of the community as they’ll let her. She loves her church enough to stick with it and push it to be as full an expression of God’s love as possible. May we all.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!- Ephesians 4:4
Dear Plymouth Creek,
This week’s letter doubles as the annual Pastor’s Report to the Congregation, my sixth and counting!
As St. Paul told his churches, I thank God whenever I remember you in prayer. Which is frequent, by the way! Truly, I’m grateful to serve you and serve alongside you in shining the light of God’s love to our community.
I rejoice in this report to remember that our last “church year” began in June with an adult baptism. One of our own went under the waters of grace and emerged to pursue life in service to Christ’s mission. We do many things as a church- worship God, give time and money, console the grieving, comfort the sick, grow in faith, share the good news of God’s unconquerable love, welcome all to our Table. But Baptism is unique, and special, and it’s something the whole church does. Only one got dunked, of course. But we all surrounded her and stood with her, saying, “I’ll be your brother, if you’ll be my sister.” Praise God for such moments of decision, and for your courage to join the baptized in a renewal of faith! We’re not simply a gathering of diverse people and stories. We are church- a community woven together by grace.
So with that as the year’s beginning, we then saw another four people join our church in the months that followed, which was lovely. It wasn’t explosive growth, obviously. Nevertheless, it maintained the forward momentum we’ve worked hard to nurture over the past few years. In other words, the church remains on solid ground and in stable hands. Further evidence is the several new ministry initiatives that emerged in 2013-14. We spruced up the facilities, paving the previously holey parking lot, installing new sanctuary windows and more. Several members, with the help of our intern Lyle and the Servant Leaders, reinvigorated prayer for each other and our community. Two new small groups began. I helped launch a community-wide Interfaith Dialogue. A dishwasher was donated, which reduces our waste and has sparked new efforts in “greening” our ministry. Fundraising for hungry Minnesotans, neighbors in need and our denominational partners reached higher levels than any other year I’ve been your pastor. Financially, we saw increased giving, along with a second straight revenue positive year, allowing us to create a balanced 2014-15 budget. Recall that one critical event allowing for that success was a record fundraiser/auction last fall. This built upon several years of growth in that initiative, though what may’ve put us over the top was you all paying for me to shave my head!
So we have much reason to rejoice! I hope you do. Good work was done. Lives were impacted. We’re not without challenges, as you know. Next year, we’ll need to reach out more to new people to sustain our measured forward growth. In the near term, we’re on firm ground. In the medium-to-long term, we’ll encounter demographic pressures. The major question will be: How can we adapt our behavior- especially our worship and Sunday offerings- to meet the needs of young adults and families? Our values of inclusion, service, freedom of belief, and interfaith openness position us to answer that question well. However, we’ll need to change some things we do, maybe even things we like best, to adapt to this 21st century environment.
Fortunately, that’s possible. For starters, our church has proven willing to embrace changes that create better hospitality to others. Also, we’re poised to further deepen our relationship with our child care center partner, which has real potential to foster new relationships. We’ll each have a role in those changes, doing more of the good we’re already doing, trying creative new activities, supporting fresh ideas from different people. Another way to describe that is simple: We’ll be church, following Christ’s lead and trusting the Spirit’s guidance. That’s the main reason, I believe, we can and will rejoice, for we’re walking with the Lord by our side. Or as that beautiful song puts it, “Walking in the light God.” May we keep shining brightly on this journey together!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
This week’s letter doubles as the annual Pastor’s Report to the Congregation, my sixth and counting!
As St. Paul told his churches, I thank God whenever I remember you in prayer. Which is frequent, by the way! Truly, I’m grateful to serve you and serve alongside you in shining the light of God’s love to our community.
I rejoice in this report to remember that our last “church year” began in June with an adult baptism. One of our own went under the waters of grace and emerged to pursue life in service to Christ’s mission. We do many things as a church- worship God, give time and money, console the grieving, comfort the sick, grow in faith, share the good news of God’s unconquerable love, welcome all to our Table. But Baptism is unique, and special, and it’s something the whole church does. Only one got dunked, of course. But we all surrounded her and stood with her, saying, “I’ll be your brother, if you’ll be my sister.” Praise God for such moments of decision, and for your courage to join the baptized in a renewal of faith! We’re not simply a gathering of diverse people and stories. We are church- a community woven together by grace.
So with that as the year’s beginning, we then saw another four people join our church in the months that followed, which was lovely. It wasn’t explosive growth, obviously. Nevertheless, it maintained the forward momentum we’ve worked hard to nurture over the past few years. In other words, the church remains on solid ground and in stable hands. Further evidence is the several new ministry initiatives that emerged in 2013-14. We spruced up the facilities, paving the previously holey parking lot, installing new sanctuary windows and more. Several members, with the help of our intern Lyle and the Servant Leaders, reinvigorated prayer for each other and our community. Two new small groups began. I helped launch a community-wide Interfaith Dialogue. A dishwasher was donated, which reduces our waste and has sparked new efforts in “greening” our ministry. Fundraising for hungry Minnesotans, neighbors in need and our denominational partners reached higher levels than any other year I’ve been your pastor. Financially, we saw increased giving, along with a second straight revenue positive year, allowing us to create a balanced 2014-15 budget. Recall that one critical event allowing for that success was a record fundraiser/auction last fall. This built upon several years of growth in that initiative, though what may’ve put us over the top was you all paying for me to shave my head!
So we have much reason to rejoice! I hope you do. Good work was done. Lives were impacted. We’re not without challenges, as you know. Next year, we’ll need to reach out more to new people to sustain our measured forward growth. In the near term, we’re on firm ground. In the medium-to-long term, we’ll encounter demographic pressures. The major question will be: How can we adapt our behavior- especially our worship and Sunday offerings- to meet the needs of young adults and families? Our values of inclusion, service, freedom of belief, and interfaith openness position us to answer that question well. However, we’ll need to change some things we do, maybe even things we like best, to adapt to this 21st century environment.
Fortunately, that’s possible. For starters, our church has proven willing to embrace changes that create better hospitality to others. Also, we’re poised to further deepen our relationship with our child care center partner, which has real potential to foster new relationships. We’ll each have a role in those changes, doing more of the good we’re already doing, trying creative new activities, supporting fresh ideas from different people. Another way to describe that is simple: We’ll be church, following Christ’s lead and trusting the Spirit’s guidance. That’s the main reason, I believe, we can and will rejoice, for we’re walking with the Lord by our side. Or as that beautiful song puts it, “Walking in the light God.” May we keep shining brightly on this journey together!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Plowshares…
The prophet Isaiah once dreamed what seemed an utterly impossible dream. Imagining the world’s nations, he foresaw a day when they would, “Beat their swords into plowshares, and neither would they study war anymore.” In the 1960s, that vision became lyrics to a Vietnam protest song. The words are frequently used as shorthand for peace advocacy. Most soldiers, of course, no longer use swords, and I suspect John Deere has replaced most plowshares. Nevertheless, it’s beautiful to dream that our energies would go toward productive enterprises more than destructive ones.
Maybe an updated form of that vision, therefore, would go: “They will transform their bomb factories into football factories, and study war no more.” FYI, by football, I mean what Americans typically call soccer, contrary to the rest of the world. And for us football (soccer) fans, the next few weeks will be awesome. The World Cup Finals are finally upon us!
For the uninitiated, here’s a brief explanation. The World Cup gathers together almost every country every four years into one collective, athletic enterprise. Currently, the Finals are being held in Brazil, but the tournament began a couple years ago. Over many months, each country played teams from other countries in their region for the right to compete in Brazil. 32 countries “made it through”, as we football fans say, and now the great game is on.
Exactly one century ago, the world was focused on one collective enterprise too. But that great game, you’ll remember, wasn’t international football. It was war. June 28 is the centennial anniversary of an event that ignited World War I. An angry young man in Sarajevo assassinated an Austrian archduke and soon after, the globe was fighting. Last year, I read a comprehensive history of that war, and the brutality shocked me anew. Beforehand, humanity seemed unaware of just how destructive our modern machines could be. They quickly learned, however, to the horror of all, and dubbed it, “The war to end all wars.” Tragically, a few decades later, Nazi politicians proved how naïve that claim was too.
And maybe all predictions of peace are naïve in some way, from Isaiah’s to Vietnam protestors. International sporting events like the World Cup often style themselves as alternatives to armed conflict among nations. It’s a neat ideal, and since the 1940s widespread violence hasn’t threatened the global order, thankfully. But that hasn’t stopped some nations from invading other nations, armed groups from holding citizens hostage, troubled individuals from bombing roadside cafes, or flying planes into buildings.
From our movement’s beginning, Christians have struggled over war and peace. Jesus said both, “Turn the other cheek,” and “I came not to bring peace, but the sword.” So…that’s confusing! Especially if you think our task is to apply Jesus’ words literally. I don’t believe that, however, knowing that the Gospels’ records of Jesus’ life and words are, necessarily, incomplete. Rather, I think we’re called to discern the big picture of God’s plan through the great themes of Jesus’ ministry. And it seems that, complications aside, God advocates peace, while honoring sacrifice and compassion.
After all, Jesus gave his life so all life could receive abundant life. He put himself at risk to help “the least of these.” Confronting the Roman Empire- as he did- to lift up that message would’ve seemed naïve, as he hung on the cross. But days, weeks, centuries later, another picture emerges. One of the Prince of Peace triumphant, a global religious movement of unity and love. It hasn’t conquered the worst angels of humanity’s nature, yet, but important progress has transpired. There’s less death by war in our century than ever in human history. Peace advocates helped end wars, and secured important rights for marginalized people. In the face of news stories that show brutality continuing, conflict raging and struggle enduring, maybe it’s the naïve amongst us- the peacemakers- we should bless and turn to again. At least, that’s what will be on my mind as I watch the World Cup this month, and pray for Iraq, Ukraine Syria. That football cleats will become more prominent that assault weapons, and we’ll study soccer tactics, no longer war.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Maybe an updated form of that vision, therefore, would go: “They will transform their bomb factories into football factories, and study war no more.” FYI, by football, I mean what Americans typically call soccer, contrary to the rest of the world. And for us football (soccer) fans, the next few weeks will be awesome. The World Cup Finals are finally upon us!
For the uninitiated, here’s a brief explanation. The World Cup gathers together almost every country every four years into one collective, athletic enterprise. Currently, the Finals are being held in Brazil, but the tournament began a couple years ago. Over many months, each country played teams from other countries in their region for the right to compete in Brazil. 32 countries “made it through”, as we football fans say, and now the great game is on.
Exactly one century ago, the world was focused on one collective enterprise too. But that great game, you’ll remember, wasn’t international football. It was war. June 28 is the centennial anniversary of an event that ignited World War I. An angry young man in Sarajevo assassinated an Austrian archduke and soon after, the globe was fighting. Last year, I read a comprehensive history of that war, and the brutality shocked me anew. Beforehand, humanity seemed unaware of just how destructive our modern machines could be. They quickly learned, however, to the horror of all, and dubbed it, “The war to end all wars.” Tragically, a few decades later, Nazi politicians proved how naïve that claim was too.
And maybe all predictions of peace are naïve in some way, from Isaiah’s to Vietnam protestors. International sporting events like the World Cup often style themselves as alternatives to armed conflict among nations. It’s a neat ideal, and since the 1940s widespread violence hasn’t threatened the global order, thankfully. But that hasn’t stopped some nations from invading other nations, armed groups from holding citizens hostage, troubled individuals from bombing roadside cafes, or flying planes into buildings.
From our movement’s beginning, Christians have struggled over war and peace. Jesus said both, “Turn the other cheek,” and “I came not to bring peace, but the sword.” So…that’s confusing! Especially if you think our task is to apply Jesus’ words literally. I don’t believe that, however, knowing that the Gospels’ records of Jesus’ life and words are, necessarily, incomplete. Rather, I think we’re called to discern the big picture of God’s plan through the great themes of Jesus’ ministry. And it seems that, complications aside, God advocates peace, while honoring sacrifice and compassion.
After all, Jesus gave his life so all life could receive abundant life. He put himself at risk to help “the least of these.” Confronting the Roman Empire- as he did- to lift up that message would’ve seemed naïve, as he hung on the cross. But days, weeks, centuries later, another picture emerges. One of the Prince of Peace triumphant, a global religious movement of unity and love. It hasn’t conquered the worst angels of humanity’s nature, yet, but important progress has transpired. There’s less death by war in our century than ever in human history. Peace advocates helped end wars, and secured important rights for marginalized people. In the face of news stories that show brutality continuing, conflict raging and struggle enduring, maybe it’s the naïve amongst us- the peacemakers- we should bless and turn to again. At least, that’s what will be on my mind as I watch the World Cup this month, and pray for Iraq, Ukraine Syria. That football cleats will become more prominent that assault weapons, and we’ll study soccer tactics, no longer war.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, June 13, 2014
Neighbors…
My garage faces an alley, and across that alley is another house. Its residents are kind, generous people. This past winter, without my asking, the father snowblowed our driveway several times. They’ve closed our fence when it was open, to keep our dog safe inside. We wave and smile regularly. Tabitha ensured we gave them a Christmas Card last year. They seemed grateful. It’s a developing neighborly relationship.
But I don’t know them well, for good reason: I don’t speak great Spanish. And the homeowners- Alex and Lupe- don’t speak great English, although their children are impressively bilingual. Tabitha does better with conversing than I do. Nevertheless, we haven’t had many opportunities to chat. Even when we try, it doesn’t get very far, since I don’t know the words to say.
Then, several weeks back, I arrived home one evening to their teenage daughter in my driveway, surrounded by seven young men holding lace parasols, moving together in practiced choreography. That my garage was blocked wasn’t surprising. Alex sometimes parks his minivan there when they have people over. I honk. He comes running to move it, always apologizing, though I always say “It’s fine!” Rather, I was shocked by this unexpected dance routine (they moved quickly to let me inside, of course). The daughter- Gysel- saw my inquisitive look. She said, “It’s my Quinceañera.”
For those unaware, a Quinceañera is a coming-of-age ritual for young women, common in Latino communities. Like a bar/bat mitzvah for Jewish youth, or a Sweet Sixteen, Quinceañeras provide 15-year-old girls a chance to say, “I’m growing up!” I’ve heard of these events before, but had never seen one. Frankly, I’m conflicted about the practice. On the one hand, rituals of maturation are wonderful things, usually. On the other hand, Quinceañeras seem like mini-weddings, reinforcing gender norms I typically avoid. But most important, they’re not part of my cultural heritage, so I have no right to judge. I saw Gysel’s beaming smile upon announcing this, so enthusiastically responded, “Congratulations!”
Soon after, as Tabitha and I ate bratwurst outside, she returned to our backyard gate, handed us a formal invitation and asked if we’d attend her Quinceañera. That was unexpected too! For starters, we like the family, but- as I said- don’t know them well. Plus, we’re white, and at least I worried about imposing on their hospitality. But last Friday, Alex saw me outside and said, “My daughter’s Quince tomorrow. You come?” With that endorsement (and the fact we saw the youngsters practice outside another few times and were curious), we said, “Alright.”
It was a lovely event, at a local hotel ballroom. People dressed nice. The food tasted wonderful. The young men and Gysel performed three formal different dance routines of varying difficulties. As an announcer emceed the festivities, I kept asking Tabitha to translate. “What’s he saying?!” We left before too long, and I was glad we’d attended. Apparently, they danced until 1 AM!
Truth be told, as often as I preach about us needing to be “good neighbors,” I struggle with that occasionally. I’m an introvert. When I’m at home, I like relaxing alone, keeping to myself. I’m not mean or standoffish, but small talk is rarely energizing to me. Add that to language barriers, and it can be tough for me to translate a desire to be a good neighbor into proactive behavior that makes a good neighbor.
Which is why I’m so glad Tabitha nudged me to dress up for our neighbor’s Quinceañera. Besides cultural curiosity, we wanted to show Alex and Lupe that we thought well of their family. Indeed, it taught me that “knowing the right thing to say” or sharing the intimate details of our personal stories aren’t the most important ingredients of neighborliness. Simply showing up is powerful stuff. In like manner, both Alex and Gysel were incredibly neighborly when they extended hospitality. Therefore, just as crucial to being a good neighbor is accepting hospitality. I doubt that tomorrow, I’ll become fast friends with Alex. But we’re better neighbors now. Words often matter less than we think (says the preacher!). Kindness and acceptance are transformative enough.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
But I don’t know them well, for good reason: I don’t speak great Spanish. And the homeowners- Alex and Lupe- don’t speak great English, although their children are impressively bilingual. Tabitha does better with conversing than I do. Nevertheless, we haven’t had many opportunities to chat. Even when we try, it doesn’t get very far, since I don’t know the words to say.
Then, several weeks back, I arrived home one evening to their teenage daughter in my driveway, surrounded by seven young men holding lace parasols, moving together in practiced choreography. That my garage was blocked wasn’t surprising. Alex sometimes parks his minivan there when they have people over. I honk. He comes running to move it, always apologizing, though I always say “It’s fine!” Rather, I was shocked by this unexpected dance routine (they moved quickly to let me inside, of course). The daughter- Gysel- saw my inquisitive look. She said, “It’s my Quinceañera.”
For those unaware, a Quinceañera is a coming-of-age ritual for young women, common in Latino communities. Like a bar/bat mitzvah for Jewish youth, or a Sweet Sixteen, Quinceañeras provide 15-year-old girls a chance to say, “I’m growing up!” I’ve heard of these events before, but had never seen one. Frankly, I’m conflicted about the practice. On the one hand, rituals of maturation are wonderful things, usually. On the other hand, Quinceañeras seem like mini-weddings, reinforcing gender norms I typically avoid. But most important, they’re not part of my cultural heritage, so I have no right to judge. I saw Gysel’s beaming smile upon announcing this, so enthusiastically responded, “Congratulations!”
Soon after, as Tabitha and I ate bratwurst outside, she returned to our backyard gate, handed us a formal invitation and asked if we’d attend her Quinceañera. That was unexpected too! For starters, we like the family, but- as I said- don’t know them well. Plus, we’re white, and at least I worried about imposing on their hospitality. But last Friday, Alex saw me outside and said, “My daughter’s Quince tomorrow. You come?” With that endorsement (and the fact we saw the youngsters practice outside another few times and were curious), we said, “Alright.”
It was a lovely event, at a local hotel ballroom. People dressed nice. The food tasted wonderful. The young men and Gysel performed three formal different dance routines of varying difficulties. As an announcer emceed the festivities, I kept asking Tabitha to translate. “What’s he saying?!” We left before too long, and I was glad we’d attended. Apparently, they danced until 1 AM!
Truth be told, as often as I preach about us needing to be “good neighbors,” I struggle with that occasionally. I’m an introvert. When I’m at home, I like relaxing alone, keeping to myself. I’m not mean or standoffish, but small talk is rarely energizing to me. Add that to language barriers, and it can be tough for me to translate a desire to be a good neighbor into proactive behavior that makes a good neighbor.
Which is why I’m so glad Tabitha nudged me to dress up for our neighbor’s Quinceañera. Besides cultural curiosity, we wanted to show Alex and Lupe that we thought well of their family. Indeed, it taught me that “knowing the right thing to say” or sharing the intimate details of our personal stories aren’t the most important ingredients of neighborliness. Simply showing up is powerful stuff. In like manner, both Alex and Gysel were incredibly neighborly when they extended hospitality. Therefore, just as crucial to being a good neighbor is accepting hospitality. I doubt that tomorrow, I’ll become fast friends with Alex. But we’re better neighbors now. Words often matter less than we think (says the preacher!). Kindness and acceptance are transformative enough.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Responsibility…
Seventy years ago this Sunday, General Eisenhower announced that Allied forces had successfully landed on the shores of Normandy. It became known as D-Day. Some of you, I think, have memories of that event. With it, the final push to defeat Nazi Germany began in full. Somewhere around 4,500 Allied forces died in the assault. Estimates for Germans losses range between 4,000 and 9,000. The day was as brutal as it was important.
Recently, I heard a story about the event that I’ve heard before, but it gets me every time. Apparently, General Eisenhower penned a communique for release in the event the attempted landing failed. Two features of that note, scribbled in pencil and stuffed into his pocket, are worth remembering. The first is an underline. He planned to say that the soldiers couldn’t gain a toehold in the landing area, so he withdrew the men, and ended with, “If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt- it is mine alone.” He underlined, “Mine alone,” knowing full well that he wasn’t the only person involved in the planning. He’d spent months, years even, in fractious meetings with multiple countries’ military personnel, politicians, and strategists. Ultimately, the plan was approved by many, leaving to him only the exact date the landing would commence. Weather appeared uncooperative, though, until June 5, when a break in storms seemed possible. It was either go the next day or wait another two weeks. Eisenhower decided to strike.
It’s good he did. The alternative date saw the worst storms of the summer, which would’ve rendered the English Channel crossing impossible. Nevertheless, he knew that victory wasn’t inevitable, and planned what to say if the worst did come. And rather than seek cover or others to share the blame, he underlined his responsibility. “Mine alone,” he emphasized, hoping- I’m sure- the need would never arise.
The second feature of note in that letter augments that decision. He’d originally written the second sentence as, “This particular operation at this time and place was based upon the best information available.” He subsequently crossed that out and began with, “My decision to attack at this time…” Again, the change was from distancing himself from potential negative attention to putting himself in fuller responsibility.
I can’t imagine the burden the general carried on the night he made that decision. The thousands of families whose lives would be forever changed. The hopes of nations teetering on edge. Leadership of whatever variety- in the military, of course, but so too in our churches, communities, families- requires a clear enough mind to understand a situation’s stakes, and a sturdy enough spine to shoulder the costs.
But so too does leadership require a courageous, empathetic and wise heart. I suspect that’s a critical ingredient in Eisenhower’s willingness to face the music should it have all gone wrong. The devastating guilt and loss, shame and terror that would’ve washed over his soldiers and his nation could’ve paralyzed people, unhinged countless spirits, further set back the cause for which they fought. In that tempestuous fervor, should he have deflected blame, cast dispersion across the waters, there would’ve been no holding tank for the fear that would arise, no focus or outlet for their grief. I’m glad we don’t know whether this letter, in fact, would have served as a needed pressure valve, an act of sacrificial leadership. But I suspect it would have, and am impressed by the emotional intelligence and fortitude those simple edits reveal.
Which is to say, when you think about how best to help your children, serve your church, better your community, I hope you ponder the needs and challenges within your hearts as much as your minds. There are programs to plan or strategies to adopt, surely, but so too are there fears to calm and dreams to uplift. Success will only come when you’re as attentive to those concerns as you are to resources and ideas. And just as critical, when it comes time to decide, don’t wallow in worry or look always to others. Be responsible, trusting in the One who made you to sustain you, and guide whatever may be.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Recently, I heard a story about the event that I’ve heard before, but it gets me every time. Apparently, General Eisenhower penned a communique for release in the event the attempted landing failed. Two features of that note, scribbled in pencil and stuffed into his pocket, are worth remembering. The first is an underline. He planned to say that the soldiers couldn’t gain a toehold in the landing area, so he withdrew the men, and ended with, “If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt- it is mine alone.” He underlined, “Mine alone,” knowing full well that he wasn’t the only person involved in the planning. He’d spent months, years even, in fractious meetings with multiple countries’ military personnel, politicians, and strategists. Ultimately, the plan was approved by many, leaving to him only the exact date the landing would commence. Weather appeared uncooperative, though, until June 5, when a break in storms seemed possible. It was either go the next day or wait another two weeks. Eisenhower decided to strike.
It’s good he did. The alternative date saw the worst storms of the summer, which would’ve rendered the English Channel crossing impossible. Nevertheless, he knew that victory wasn’t inevitable, and planned what to say if the worst did come. And rather than seek cover or others to share the blame, he underlined his responsibility. “Mine alone,” he emphasized, hoping- I’m sure- the need would never arise.
The second feature of note in that letter augments that decision. He’d originally written the second sentence as, “This particular operation at this time and place was based upon the best information available.” He subsequently crossed that out and began with, “My decision to attack at this time…” Again, the change was from distancing himself from potential negative attention to putting himself in fuller responsibility.
I can’t imagine the burden the general carried on the night he made that decision. The thousands of families whose lives would be forever changed. The hopes of nations teetering on edge. Leadership of whatever variety- in the military, of course, but so too in our churches, communities, families- requires a clear enough mind to understand a situation’s stakes, and a sturdy enough spine to shoulder the costs.
But so too does leadership require a courageous, empathetic and wise heart. I suspect that’s a critical ingredient in Eisenhower’s willingness to face the music should it have all gone wrong. The devastating guilt and loss, shame and terror that would’ve washed over his soldiers and his nation could’ve paralyzed people, unhinged countless spirits, further set back the cause for which they fought. In that tempestuous fervor, should he have deflected blame, cast dispersion across the waters, there would’ve been no holding tank for the fear that would arise, no focus or outlet for their grief. I’m glad we don’t know whether this letter, in fact, would have served as a needed pressure valve, an act of sacrificial leadership. But I suspect it would have, and am impressed by the emotional intelligence and fortitude those simple edits reveal.
Which is to say, when you think about how best to help your children, serve your church, better your community, I hope you ponder the needs and challenges within your hearts as much as your minds. There are programs to plan or strategies to adopt, surely, but so too are there fears to calm and dreams to uplift. Success will only come when you’re as attentive to those concerns as you are to resources and ideas. And just as critical, when it comes time to decide, don’t wallow in worry or look always to others. Be responsible, trusting in the One who made you to sustain you, and guide whatever may be.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Breathe Deeply…
Nowadays, people talk a lot- and for good reason- about brains. Over the past century or so, we’ve learned many important things about how brains work and what they do. Much remains to understand, but we’ve got a handle on one critical fact: Our brains control our lives. When they function optimally, they allow for blood circulation, speech, memory, creativity. In other, we think brains make human life possible. By contrast, when they cease functioning properly, life diminishes. For instance, post-traumatic stress disorder, of the kind endured by some combat veterans or disaster victims, is a brain injury, we’ve learned, when something malfunctions upstairs, and the results can be sad. Altered personalities, higher rates of depression, isolation, and in extreme cases, suicide. That’s why care for people suffering PTSD is so critical, and needs to be taken seriously.
And, of course, when the brain stops working altogether, life ends completely. I imagine none of this strikes you as controversial or new. The brain is the seat of the soul, many now imagine. In previous eras, however, smart people weren’t as aware of the brain’s critical role in life. They recognized that acute head trauma could incapacitate a person or end her life, of course. But not having our advanced research techniques and imaging machines, they couldn’t peak under the skull for a fuller picture. Instead, they observed life’s outward effects, and came to an alternative conclusion. They saw that when life ended, breathing stopped. Always. We now describe that as a function of brain activity; neural connections that control the lungs and heart no longer tell those vital organs to work. But our ancestors didn’t know that. They simply noticed that breath seemed decisive. With it, life endured. Without it, life was no more.
Perhaps for that reason, the authors of Hebrew scripture made a profound (and holy) leap of imagination. Wondering how to describe the incredible, divine force of Creation and life, they turned to breath, joining the two together. We use two words: Spirit and Breath. They used one: Ruach. What that meant was that the Spirit (Ruach) of God, which they claimed in Genesis created life out nothingness, order from chaos, was nothing less than the Breath (Ruach) of God. One and the same, spirit and breath. By extension, the breath within in each of us was our own special portion of life itself- spirit/breath. And it makes a beautiful, poetic kind of sense, I think.
After all, we still believe, in some fashion, that spirit and life are intimately connected. What that has to do with our brains, how they interact, well, I won’t even begin to guess! But they matter in some conjoined way. Likewise, pre-scientific humans, who put breath above brains, simply comingled this source of life with spirit. Who can blame them? Remember that the next time you take a big breath. In comes spirit, in enters life. Your exhaling, then, is your releasing of spirit and life’s power to go beyond yourself in the world God created.
Anyway, awkward descriptions of ancient psychology/anthropology aside, I bring this up for an important reason. This summer, I’m hoping we Plymouth Creek folk will breathe deeply together all season long. A Servant Leader told me a few weeks back, “Shane, we should take the upcoming summer to explore rest. God knows I’m tired!” I get tired too, and I love the idea that we’d dig into our spiritual tradition to learn its wisdom about recreation, relaxation, Sabbath.
Turns out, there’s quite a bit for us to encounter. Not only does the Bible compare breathing to Spirit and Creation, but God even commands God’s people to think about Time as a balance between work and inactivity. Jesus retreated from teaching and healing into prayer. Few things matter more to Scripture than peace. So when you come to church this summer, expect to learn about resting and reenergizing; i.e. proper breathing. And don’t forget to breathe deeply. After all, our ancestors believed that’s the Spirit you just may be bringing in. They didn’t know about the brain’s role in all of that, obviously, but I bet they were onto something…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
And, of course, when the brain stops working altogether, life ends completely. I imagine none of this strikes you as controversial or new. The brain is the seat of the soul, many now imagine. In previous eras, however, smart people weren’t as aware of the brain’s critical role in life. They recognized that acute head trauma could incapacitate a person or end her life, of course. But not having our advanced research techniques and imaging machines, they couldn’t peak under the skull for a fuller picture. Instead, they observed life’s outward effects, and came to an alternative conclusion. They saw that when life ended, breathing stopped. Always. We now describe that as a function of brain activity; neural connections that control the lungs and heart no longer tell those vital organs to work. But our ancestors didn’t know that. They simply noticed that breath seemed decisive. With it, life endured. Without it, life was no more.
Perhaps for that reason, the authors of Hebrew scripture made a profound (and holy) leap of imagination. Wondering how to describe the incredible, divine force of Creation and life, they turned to breath, joining the two together. We use two words: Spirit and Breath. They used one: Ruach. What that meant was that the Spirit (Ruach) of God, which they claimed in Genesis created life out nothingness, order from chaos, was nothing less than the Breath (Ruach) of God. One and the same, spirit and breath. By extension, the breath within in each of us was our own special portion of life itself- spirit/breath. And it makes a beautiful, poetic kind of sense, I think.
After all, we still believe, in some fashion, that spirit and life are intimately connected. What that has to do with our brains, how they interact, well, I won’t even begin to guess! But they matter in some conjoined way. Likewise, pre-scientific humans, who put breath above brains, simply comingled this source of life with spirit. Who can blame them? Remember that the next time you take a big breath. In comes spirit, in enters life. Your exhaling, then, is your releasing of spirit and life’s power to go beyond yourself in the world God created.
Anyway, awkward descriptions of ancient psychology/anthropology aside, I bring this up for an important reason. This summer, I’m hoping we Plymouth Creek folk will breathe deeply together all season long. A Servant Leader told me a few weeks back, “Shane, we should take the upcoming summer to explore rest. God knows I’m tired!” I get tired too, and I love the idea that we’d dig into our spiritual tradition to learn its wisdom about recreation, relaxation, Sabbath.
Turns out, there’s quite a bit for us to encounter. Not only does the Bible compare breathing to Spirit and Creation, but God even commands God’s people to think about Time as a balance between work and inactivity. Jesus retreated from teaching and healing into prayer. Few things matter more to Scripture than peace. So when you come to church this summer, expect to learn about resting and reenergizing; i.e. proper breathing. And don’t forget to breathe deeply. After all, our ancestors believed that’s the Spirit you just may be bringing in. They didn’t know about the brain’s role in all of that, obviously, but I bet they were onto something…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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