It's been awhile- a long while-since I stepped inside a "Christian" bookstore. I don't tend to find the books that I'm interested reading in that spot. And, there are plaques and posters with pithy sayings, like: "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift- that's why they call it the present." I think I'll pass on the mug.
You can find this stuff at Hallmark stores, thrift stores, and, somewhere in Boulder, there has to be a store with these trinkets. Not just Christian bookstores. One of the quips, whether it is a ditty on a Hallmark card or in some self-help book or in a conversation, is that living in the present moment is what we aim for. Not in the past or in the future, but now. Here and now.
"Here and now." Ahh, that's the title of a book I just finished. By the late Henri Nouwen. This idea of living fully in the present is not a new concept, and it sounds rather simple; it's not a complex idea. It's not like some of my college philosophy textbooks where, after reading the same page five times, I was still scratching my head! But, just because it is a simple notion doesn't mean it is easy to live this out in my life. Far from it.
Here's the way Nouwen put it, "The real enemies of our life are the 'oughts' and the 'ifs.' They pull us backward into the unalterable past and forward into the unpredictable future." (p.18) I messed up and ought to have done it differently. Or, I had an opportunity to take positive action and I didn't; I should have. The other end is the enemy of the "what if." What if I never get married? What if the economy doesn't clear up and I can never get a job with security? What if something happens to my health?
Now, there is a positive dimension to looking into our past and learning from either mistakes (or, I'll use the "sin" word) or hurtful experiences, and taking time to consider goals, dreams or visions for one's future. That is quite different from the "oughts" and "ifs."
I'm inclined to think we gravitate, for any number of reasons, more toward the "ought" or "if" side. The catch, if it toward the "oughts," is the drain of guilt. If you are prone to the "what ifs," you will get snagged with anxiety or worry. I land on the side of the "ifs" when I am not operating out of living in the present.
What is it for you? "Oughts"- and then, guilt? Or, "ifs"- and then, anxiety?
What I hear in Jesus' words, and see in his life, and the good news of the Kingdom he came announcing, is clearly about the present. "The Kingdom is here among you!" Enter this abundant life- now! Love God. Love others. Share your life, especially, with the poor, outsider, broken, and people who are marginalized.
It is far too simplistic to suggest that we can always live in the present, and avoid the "oughts" and "ifs," and the corresponding and crippling guilt or worry. But, it is realistic to propose that we can live more and more in the present, rather than focused on the past or future.
I need reminders; that's why I read such books. Why I read scripture daily. That's why community is important for me.
Here and Now. Good reminder. Let's keep reminding each- both in words and action.
Anyone have a pithy slogan for this to put on a plaque, mug and t-shirt?... No; forget it.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Focus outward even builds community- I saw it this week
I experienced community when the clothing closet was open on Tuesday night. I'll explain in a minute....
If the sole purpose, or the primary purpose, of a church is to preserve or save itself, it will not be fully alive. Further, if it is absorbed in seeking to build community, the irony is that it will not have community at a deeper level. It's one of those Kingdom "reversals."
Two things I read early this morning stated this very thing. Frederick Buechner explains it this way, "To journey for the sake of saving our own lives is little by little to cease to live in any sense that really matters, even to ourselves, because it is only journeying for the world's sake- even when the world bores and sickens and scares you half to death- that little by little we start to come alive" (p. 22, Listening to Your Life).
The community-building piece came in a note by Henri Nouwen about caring together for others in his meditation on dying and caring in Our Greatest Gift, "I have always been impressed with the thought that people are only ready to commit themselves to each other when they no longer focus on each other but rather focus together on the larger world beyond themselves." (p. 64)
I hear the longing for community continually. It is something that is important for our community- our church- The Bridge. To love, know and be known, laugh, build relationships. We were not meant to walk through life in the type of individualism that has been prominent in much of Western culture.
So, saying this on the positive side of the equation: when we see the world beyond ourselves, when we engage together for the world's sake, and when we care together for others, especially the poor and marginalized, community is built at new levels. We are more fully alive!
I can point to that very thing on Tuesday night. There are all kinds of stories out there that would tell a similar story, but here is a recent one. Simple. Nothing fancy....
Tuesday nights: our church is staffing a clothing closet on Tuesday nights, and we are in the process of organizing and expanding this service. There's a warm meal each Tuesday night for 75-100 homeless, or near homeless, folks at the church building we rent, and then a clothing closet is open after the meal for about an hour. Six of us were there this past week to not only help find a pair of jeans, coat, socks, underwear, soap, razor, or other items for those lining up in the basement. But, we also chat and joke with, listen to and begin to learn the names of the "regulars."
It's dangerous to try and speak for others, but I'll risk it. I think the six of us felt a bit more "alive" that night chatting with someone who needs a tube of toothpaste. Some of our own personal struggles might be put into perspective. Our world gets expanded another notch. We move a tiny step further away from the illusion that the world is about "me."
And, community was being built, and it was from the very act of caring about others, and engaging in the world beyond ourselves. Laughing with George and his puns. Knowing that the same older guy always asks for a bar of soap "because I don't want to be stinky!" Getting in on two guys ribbing each other. Hearing a slice of the stories (each one of our stories matter!) of those who come each week.
Another layer of community was built on Tuesday night as a result of caring together, for the world's sake.
Funny, and fun, how that works.
If the sole purpose, or the primary purpose, of a church is to preserve or save itself, it will not be fully alive. Further, if it is absorbed in seeking to build community, the irony is that it will not have community at a deeper level. It's one of those Kingdom "reversals."
Two things I read early this morning stated this very thing. Frederick Buechner explains it this way, "To journey for the sake of saving our own lives is little by little to cease to live in any sense that really matters, even to ourselves, because it is only journeying for the world's sake- even when the world bores and sickens and scares you half to death- that little by little we start to come alive" (p. 22, Listening to Your Life).
The community-building piece came in a note by Henri Nouwen about caring together for others in his meditation on dying and caring in Our Greatest Gift, "I have always been impressed with the thought that people are only ready to commit themselves to each other when they no longer focus on each other but rather focus together on the larger world beyond themselves." (p. 64)
I hear the longing for community continually. It is something that is important for our community- our church- The Bridge. To love, know and be known, laugh, build relationships. We were not meant to walk through life in the type of individualism that has been prominent in much of Western culture.
So, saying this on the positive side of the equation: when we see the world beyond ourselves, when we engage together for the world's sake, and when we care together for others, especially the poor and marginalized, community is built at new levels. We are more fully alive!
I can point to that very thing on Tuesday night. There are all kinds of stories out there that would tell a similar story, but here is a recent one. Simple. Nothing fancy....
Tuesday nights: our church is staffing a clothing closet on Tuesday nights, and we are in the process of organizing and expanding this service. There's a warm meal each Tuesday night for 75-100 homeless, or near homeless, folks at the church building we rent, and then a clothing closet is open after the meal for about an hour. Six of us were there this past week to not only help find a pair of jeans, coat, socks, underwear, soap, razor, or other items for those lining up in the basement. But, we also chat and joke with, listen to and begin to learn the names of the "regulars."
It's dangerous to try and speak for others, but I'll risk it. I think the six of us felt a bit more "alive" that night chatting with someone who needs a tube of toothpaste. Some of our own personal struggles might be put into perspective. Our world gets expanded another notch. We move a tiny step further away from the illusion that the world is about "me."
And, community was being built, and it was from the very act of caring about others, and engaging in the world beyond ourselves. Laughing with George and his puns. Knowing that the same older guy always asks for a bar of soap "because I don't want to be stinky!" Getting in on two guys ribbing each other. Hearing a slice of the stories (each one of our stories matter!) of those who come each week.
Another layer of community was built on Tuesday night as a result of caring together, for the world's sake.
Funny, and fun, how that works.
Friday, January 22, 2010
My Haitian brothers and sisters...
All kinds of crazy things get said, and done, that are associated with religion, including Christianity. If we spent our time focusing on those statements or actions, we would become immobilized in many ways. And while it is sometimes appropriate, and important, to say what one is against, the main focus is: what are you for?
But, there are times when I feel compelled to say, "No; I don't believe this. No; this is not connected in any way to our faith as followers of Jesus." In the midst of the unimaginable suffering in Haiti brought on by the devastating earthquake, and when our hearts break staring at death and the weeping, Pat Robertson of the 700 Club, states this:
The Haitians "swore a pact with the devil...ever since they have been cursed by one thing after another."
In some ways, it doesn't deserve comment. You just want to say: enough said. But, this is one of those times I don't want to sit on the sidelines. There is so much out there that goes under the umbrella of "Christianity" that it makes it difficult for many to even be compelled by orthodox, Christian faith. So, I want to say in this case: there are many of us out there that will categorically deny and disassociate ourselves from this comment and all that is implied in it. Many of us, as followers of Jesus, will say- this has nothing to do with our faith.
I will not judge the person or the faith of a person. But I will disassociate myself from this.
Perhaps another reason I don't want to stand on the sidelines is because of the way this tragedy, so close to our shores, has torn our hearts open. So, instead of this type of statement, we will pray and act. We will say: God stands with the poor and the suffering. We will join others- anyone!- to help bring immediate relief and support long-term efforts toward healing in Haiti. We will put together relief kits, send money, and support short-term and long-term personnel to help with recovery.
I am coming off a leadership week and conference at the seminary I graduated from, and the speaker, Greg Boyd, called us to be churches- communities who follow Jesus, to manifest and embody the self-sacrificial, servant love of Jesus that seeks to love all people. That is first, local- people in our communities and cities. But, it is also global. Denver and Haiti, in my case.
Stuff happens. Really bad stuff. This side of the reconciliation of all things in the "new heavens and the new earth," we will not be able to rationally and logically explain evil and suffering in some complete fashion. But, this earthquake is not because of a pact with the devil or a curse. My Haitian friends, please here us on that.
Have mercy on all of us.
And, we go to work for the Kingdom in Denver, Haiti, and ....
But, there are times when I feel compelled to say, "No; I don't believe this. No; this is not connected in any way to our faith as followers of Jesus." In the midst of the unimaginable suffering in Haiti brought on by the devastating earthquake, and when our hearts break staring at death and the weeping, Pat Robertson of the 700 Club, states this:
The Haitians "swore a pact with the devil...ever since they have been cursed by one thing after another."
In some ways, it doesn't deserve comment. You just want to say: enough said. But, this is one of those times I don't want to sit on the sidelines. There is so much out there that goes under the umbrella of "Christianity" that it makes it difficult for many to even be compelled by orthodox, Christian faith. So, I want to say in this case: there are many of us out there that will categorically deny and disassociate ourselves from this comment and all that is implied in it. Many of us, as followers of Jesus, will say- this has nothing to do with our faith.
I will not judge the person or the faith of a person. But I will disassociate myself from this.
Perhaps another reason I don't want to stand on the sidelines is because of the way this tragedy, so close to our shores, has torn our hearts open. So, instead of this type of statement, we will pray and act. We will say: God stands with the poor and the suffering. We will join others- anyone!- to help bring immediate relief and support long-term efforts toward healing in Haiti. We will put together relief kits, send money, and support short-term and long-term personnel to help with recovery.
I am coming off a leadership week and conference at the seminary I graduated from, and the speaker, Greg Boyd, called us to be churches- communities who follow Jesus, to manifest and embody the self-sacrificial, servant love of Jesus that seeks to love all people. That is first, local- people in our communities and cities. But, it is also global. Denver and Haiti, in my case.
Stuff happens. Really bad stuff. This side of the reconciliation of all things in the "new heavens and the new earth," we will not be able to rationally and logically explain evil and suffering in some complete fashion. But, this earthquake is not because of a pact with the devil or a curse. My Haitian friends, please here us on that.
Have mercy on all of us.
And, we go to work for the Kingdom in Denver, Haiti, and ....
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Our own flesh suffering in Haiti today
Haiti, an already desparate, small country, is now faced with a multitude of suffering following the earthquake yesterday. This is not my city, my state, my country. Those suffering are not my family members...
But wait. Oh, it IS my family. MY kin.
Walter Brueggeman pointed out that the noun used to describe the oppressed, poor, hungry, naked- those on the margins and those suffering- in the prophetic call in Isaiah 58:7 is the word "kin" (NRSV). The Hebrew word for "your own flesh." So, our hearts, and support for all the efforts to share with our global family, go out to "our own flesh" in Haiti.
I'm glad Mennonite Central Committee, the Red Cross, and a host of organizations will respond quickly to aid our brothers and our sisters.
This Franciscan Prayer of Blessing, that Esther Malwitz cited today, is one I copy here:
May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers,
half-truths and superficial relationships,
so that we will live deeply in our hearts.
May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression
and exploitation of people and the earth,
so that we will work for justice, equity and peace.
May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer,
so that we will reach out our hands
to comfort them and change their pain to joy.
And may God bless us with the foolishness to think that
we can make a difference in our world,
so that we will do the things which others say cannot be done.
But wait. Oh, it IS my family. MY kin.
Walter Brueggeman pointed out that the noun used to describe the oppressed, poor, hungry, naked- those on the margins and those suffering- in the prophetic call in Isaiah 58:7 is the word "kin" (NRSV). The Hebrew word for "your own flesh." So, our hearts, and support for all the efforts to share with our global family, go out to "our own flesh" in Haiti.
I'm glad Mennonite Central Committee, the Red Cross, and a host of organizations will respond quickly to aid our brothers and our sisters.
This Franciscan Prayer of Blessing, that Esther Malwitz cited today, is one I copy here:
May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers,
half-truths and superficial relationships,
so that we will live deeply in our hearts.
May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression
and exploitation of people and the earth,
so that we will work for justice, equity and peace.
May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer,
so that we will reach out our hands
to comfort them and change their pain to joy.
And may God bless us with the foolishness to think that
we can make a difference in our world,
so that we will do the things which others say cannot be done.
Friday, January 8, 2010
My friend has cancer
My friend has cancer. It's hard to let those words roll out. But, that's what I heard yesterday.
Maybe it is harder, still, due to the scare we had July 23. As Gail was taken to the ER for some physical symptoms, and after a series of CT scans and MRI's, with Gail on the ER bed and with me by her side we hear the words- cold, blunt: "I'm nearly certain you have a malignant brain tumor and it is likely inoperable." Our world falls apart. But, as I've written about, after a second opinion and a team of neurosurgeons, we are told it is unlikely that it is a malignant tumor. It may be something that has been there most of her life. No other symptoms to date.
For us, it is a much longer story. I'm grateful for each day of health and no symptoms for Gail. During that awful weekend, these close friends cried with me/us. We hurt; they hurt.
Now, just months later, I'm on the other end of the phone hearing, "I have cancer. They plan to start chemotherapy tomorrow..." (This is after a series of multiple tests over a period of weeks, and pathology reports coming back yesterday.) They hurt; I hurt. Oh, that is way too simplistic, for it is much deeper than "hurt."
The husband is a really close friend of mine- for 20 years. She, too. She is about to graduate from seminary and will now need to put that on hold this semester. They are gems. Quality.
So, here we go with the immediate and unanswerable question: "Why?" I have long left the theory behind when these things emerge that says, "God has a purpose in this. There's a reason for everything that happens." A purpose that people would suffer? A reason for someone to get really sick from intensive chemotherapy treatments? A purpose behind- as I've heard it from some who have gone through chemo- "I felt so sick that I just wanted to die?" A reason for someone who is actively loving God and loving others, and living in the way of Jesus- a reason that sometimes there are people like that whose lives come to a premature end in the fullness of life?
No, that doesn't work for me. That would make no sense. It is some of the very things I pondered, again, that weekend of July 23rd. Now, I know you can point me to volumes and volumes of those who have written about suffering, theodicy and how to make sense of evil in the world. I've read some of them. It is a question that will be pondered and debated, and more importantly, wrestled with at the deepest levels of our being forever.
I feel like I can merely scratch the surface when I muster up the statement, and enter the mystery, that God is God. Our finitude cannot grasp the fullness of this, and the tragic repercussions of evil. I concur with what Marva Dawn wrote recently about "...the fundamental dialectical truth that God is both good and almighty....If we begin with trust that God is both good and almighty, then we look elsewhere for the reasons behind suffering." (p. 22-23, In the Beginning, GOD). I believe that God is both good and almighty, even when I can't understand.
Here's the other thing: this morning- January 8, one day after hearing about my friend's pathology report on January 7- it was this morning, in my early time of prayer, that I open my daily guide with scripture and prayer and it begins: "I am the LORD who heals you."- Exodus 15:26 (NLT) Thomas Keating writes in the reflection, "Divine love has the power to grow and transform us." And the page ends with, "'I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,' declares the LORD."- Jeremiah 30:17 (NIV)
I won't even address the issue of the "coincidence" or whether this January 8 topic was "meant to be." What matters to me, is this concept of healing.
I understand the thought of "the LORD who heals." About 12 years ago, at a time of darkness and loss, when I wondered whether it would happen, I began the process of being healed. Over time. A long time. I know what this is talking about.
Right now, this is what I desire in this situation: healing. I can't even know what that will look like or how or when. But, I am praying- pleading- for healing. Healing for my friend from her cancer. Healing for her devoted husband and family. And, for me and all the others who love them.
So, healing it is. Through tears, and with hope, I will pray for healing.
Maybe it is harder, still, due to the scare we had July 23. As Gail was taken to the ER for some physical symptoms, and after a series of CT scans and MRI's, with Gail on the ER bed and with me by her side we hear the words- cold, blunt: "I'm nearly certain you have a malignant brain tumor and it is likely inoperable." Our world falls apart. But, as I've written about, after a second opinion and a team of neurosurgeons, we are told it is unlikely that it is a malignant tumor. It may be something that has been there most of her life. No other symptoms to date.
For us, it is a much longer story. I'm grateful for each day of health and no symptoms for Gail. During that awful weekend, these close friends cried with me/us. We hurt; they hurt.
Now, just months later, I'm on the other end of the phone hearing, "I have cancer. They plan to start chemotherapy tomorrow..." (This is after a series of multiple tests over a period of weeks, and pathology reports coming back yesterday.) They hurt; I hurt. Oh, that is way too simplistic, for it is much deeper than "hurt."
The husband is a really close friend of mine- for 20 years. She, too. She is about to graduate from seminary and will now need to put that on hold this semester. They are gems. Quality.
So, here we go with the immediate and unanswerable question: "Why?" I have long left the theory behind when these things emerge that says, "God has a purpose in this. There's a reason for everything that happens." A purpose that people would suffer? A reason for someone to get really sick from intensive chemotherapy treatments? A purpose behind- as I've heard it from some who have gone through chemo- "I felt so sick that I just wanted to die?" A reason for someone who is actively loving God and loving others, and living in the way of Jesus- a reason that sometimes there are people like that whose lives come to a premature end in the fullness of life?
No, that doesn't work for me. That would make no sense. It is some of the very things I pondered, again, that weekend of July 23rd. Now, I know you can point me to volumes and volumes of those who have written about suffering, theodicy and how to make sense of evil in the world. I've read some of them. It is a question that will be pondered and debated, and more importantly, wrestled with at the deepest levels of our being forever.
I feel like I can merely scratch the surface when I muster up the statement, and enter the mystery, that God is God. Our finitude cannot grasp the fullness of this, and the tragic repercussions of evil. I concur with what Marva Dawn wrote recently about "...the fundamental dialectical truth that God is both good and almighty....If we begin with trust that God is both good and almighty, then we look elsewhere for the reasons behind suffering." (p. 22-23, In the Beginning, GOD). I believe that God is both good and almighty, even when I can't understand.
Here's the other thing: this morning- January 8, one day after hearing about my friend's pathology report on January 7- it was this morning, in my early time of prayer, that I open my daily guide with scripture and prayer and it begins: "I am the LORD who heals you."- Exodus 15:26 (NLT) Thomas Keating writes in the reflection, "Divine love has the power to grow and transform us." And the page ends with, "'I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,' declares the LORD."- Jeremiah 30:17 (NIV)
I won't even address the issue of the "coincidence" or whether this January 8 topic was "meant to be." What matters to me, is this concept of healing.
I understand the thought of "the LORD who heals." About 12 years ago, at a time of darkness and loss, when I wondered whether it would happen, I began the process of being healed. Over time. A long time. I know what this is talking about.
Right now, this is what I desire in this situation: healing. I can't even know what that will look like or how or when. But, I am praying- pleading- for healing. Healing for my friend from her cancer. Healing for her devoted husband and family. And, for me and all the others who love them.
So, healing it is. Through tears, and with hope, I will pray for healing.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The 1st question when they find out I'm a pastor...
My favorite time was after a round of 18 holes of golf with a friend, and his co-worker that I just met. The times, that is, when people find out that I'm a pastor. And, it tends to be people who barely connected to church (the Easter and Christmas thing), or who may have no religious background. This has been changing in the past 10 years, but with my generation and older, many people were uncomfortable around pastors and would act differently once they knew this.
I didn't want people to know I was a pastor because I didn't want them to act or try to be different around me. So, this beautiful summer day in Ohio I am with Larry, who is a member of our church, and his co-worker who never asked me about my vocation. This guy was funny. He was telling jokes the entire round- some pretty funny ones, then he would drop in a crude joke, and he was dropping the F-bomb and some other colorful language the entire round. I enjoyed being with him.
After the round of golf, we had a drink and something to eat. As we were eating, the co-worker dude asks me, "So, what do you do?" When I told him I was the pastor at Larry's church, he about choked on his burrito, gulped, and then said, "Thanks, Larry; why didn't you tell me earlier! Holy cow; I'm sorry for all the jokes...." Which is why I often don't tell people what I do so they don't try and be something they are not.
Which leads to another "pastor" conversation. Whether it is the person sitting next to me on a plane, or a neighbor I meet for the first time, or any stranger I meet- do you want to guess what the first question I am asked after I tell them I'm a pastor of a church? Almost always it is: "So, how big is your church?" Based on some of the comments and body language, I can often sense the question, and my answer, is the grid that is used to measure success. Big= successful. Small= unsuccessful.
You should see the looks now when my answer, over the past year, has been 15, 20 or 25!
Which then leads me to a comment Brad Cecil of Axxess church made about how they are measuring success. It was in the context of this newer, emerging church that has a deep commitment to community and relationships. "...we want to be a community of people committed to sharing life together...We don't measure our success by numeric growth. We have decided to measure by other means, such as, How long do relationships last? Are members of the community at peace with one another? Are relationships reconciled?" (p. 99, Emerging Churches by E. Gibbs and R. Bolger).
I track with that focus on community as it is part of our core values at The Bridge. I would also add other means by which we might measure our success related to our core values: What are we doing to serve the poor? How are we seeking social justice in our city/world? What is the nature of the conversations like in our community? etc.
It's a different way of defining success, which, ultimately, is the wrong question. Not to be cliche: but, it is about faithfulness in our lives personally, and in our communities of faith. I admit the ways in which I have succumbed to the voices and judgments of others about who we are. As Henri Nouwen has written succinctly and prophetically: the way we often answer this is, "We are our success, we are our popularity, we are our power." (p. 134, Here and Now) The deeper voice, however, keeps prodding me.
Being a community, in a network of relationships, is a central component of what we aspire to be at The Bridge. How and what this will look like specifically, as we journey forward, is unknown; but it will be community. Even as we have it anchored in the very nature of God in community/relationship as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
"So, how big is your church?" My neighbor down the street might now get it. I do.
I didn't want people to know I was a pastor because I didn't want them to act or try to be different around me. So, this beautiful summer day in Ohio I am with Larry, who is a member of our church, and his co-worker who never asked me about my vocation. This guy was funny. He was telling jokes the entire round- some pretty funny ones, then he would drop in a crude joke, and he was dropping the F-bomb and some other colorful language the entire round. I enjoyed being with him.
After the round of golf, we had a drink and something to eat. As we were eating, the co-worker dude asks me, "So, what do you do?" When I told him I was the pastor at Larry's church, he about choked on his burrito, gulped, and then said, "Thanks, Larry; why didn't you tell me earlier! Holy cow; I'm sorry for all the jokes...." Which is why I often don't tell people what I do so they don't try and be something they are not.
Which leads to another "pastor" conversation. Whether it is the person sitting next to me on a plane, or a neighbor I meet for the first time, or any stranger I meet- do you want to guess what the first question I am asked after I tell them I'm a pastor of a church? Almost always it is: "So, how big is your church?" Based on some of the comments and body language, I can often sense the question, and my answer, is the grid that is used to measure success. Big= successful. Small= unsuccessful.
You should see the looks now when my answer, over the past year, has been 15, 20 or 25!
Which then leads me to a comment Brad Cecil of Axxess church made about how they are measuring success. It was in the context of this newer, emerging church that has a deep commitment to community and relationships. "...we want to be a community of people committed to sharing life together...We don't measure our success by numeric growth. We have decided to measure by other means, such as, How long do relationships last? Are members of the community at peace with one another? Are relationships reconciled?" (p. 99, Emerging Churches by E. Gibbs and R. Bolger).
I track with that focus on community as it is part of our core values at The Bridge. I would also add other means by which we might measure our success related to our core values: What are we doing to serve the poor? How are we seeking social justice in our city/world? What is the nature of the conversations like in our community? etc.
It's a different way of defining success, which, ultimately, is the wrong question. Not to be cliche: but, it is about faithfulness in our lives personally, and in our communities of faith. I admit the ways in which I have succumbed to the voices and judgments of others about who we are. As Henri Nouwen has written succinctly and prophetically: the way we often answer this is, "We are our success, we are our popularity, we are our power." (p. 134, Here and Now) The deeper voice, however, keeps prodding me.
Being a community, in a network of relationships, is a central component of what we aspire to be at The Bridge. How and what this will look like specifically, as we journey forward, is unknown; but it will be community. Even as we have it anchored in the very nature of God in community/relationship as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
"So, how big is your church?" My neighbor down the street might now get it. I do.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Beliefs: more like a Scrabble game than jigsaw puzzle
There's a pretty strong resistance to beliefs in our time. What one believes, what beliefs seem to be essential, and what beliefs are critical in terms of faith.
If you consider the trilogy of beliefs, belonging and behavior, beliefs would be at the bottom of the list- at least, in the circles I tend to hang around. I understand why many have this resistance to beliefs for far too many have been immersed in church cultures where one must have the precise set of beliefs- propositional truths. Christianity was set up, in those settings, with the abstract truths that one must hold or one is out. As in, "I'm in and you're out!"
One of the wonderful things taking place among those who follow Jesus is a deep understanding of narrative. The Big narrative. The Story of God unfolding in history, with God at the center, with God Incarnate- Jesus, at the center, and finding where we fit in this Story. I love the line in "Emerging Churches" (Gibbs and Bolger), "Who wants to listen to abstract, contextless propositions when one can hear or watch a story unfold?" (p. 68)
Belonging and community take on much more meaning than beliefs, in our setting. Behavior is much more engaging than abstract truth statements- "How are we going to live?"
But, beliefs are not discarded, on the other hand. I've been pondering this recently: what beliefs are essential in this way of Jesus? I don't see this divorced from the larger framework of narrative and the story of God. I came across a nugget in a short book by James Reimer, "The Dogmatic Imagination," in which he takes on tough questions in seeking the "dynamics" of Christian belief.
In thinking about beliefs, and endeavoring to paint what beliefs might be crucial, he uses the metaphor of a Scrabble game vs. a jigsaw puzzle. The dynamic of beliefs is not like a jigsaw puzzle which is totally predetermined and there is no freedom. Each piece of the puzzle fits exactly in one spot. When I shared this notion with one friend, he said that for many Christians the metaphor is more like "paint-by-numbers." Good one! Robotic. No room to think. Just paint inside the lines.
In contrast, the Scrabble game gives freedom to the players, the outcome is not known until the end of the game, and reason and intelligence is involved. But, Reimer points out that there is a fixed component; "The cosmos is not entirely open."
This metaphor is compelling, for me. As we think of what beliefs are crucial (I want to include all three: belonging, behavior, and beliefs), there is freedom, we use reason, and it is not a rigid jigsaw puzzle or paint-by-numbers game. And yet, there is a fixed component- not all beliefs are the same and there is a broad parameter within which we are working.
So, there is room for diversity and differences of belief as we attempt to put words to the narrative- the Big Story of God. We can see things from different angles. We will differ with one another on some of these beliefs. And, yet "the cosmos is not entirely open." As we attempt to identify core beliefs, there is great freedom and yet there is a fixed game board that we are working with.
This metaphor helps me to see the folly of both extremes: on the one hand- a rigid view of abstract, propositional truths that allows no room for diversity; and on the other hand-a view that has no parameters for beliefs or places all beliefs on the same level.
If you consider the trilogy of beliefs, belonging and behavior, beliefs would be at the bottom of the list- at least, in the circles I tend to hang around. I understand why many have this resistance to beliefs for far too many have been immersed in church cultures where one must have the precise set of beliefs- propositional truths. Christianity was set up, in those settings, with the abstract truths that one must hold or one is out. As in, "I'm in and you're out!"
One of the wonderful things taking place among those who follow Jesus is a deep understanding of narrative. The Big narrative. The Story of God unfolding in history, with God at the center, with God Incarnate- Jesus, at the center, and finding where we fit in this Story. I love the line in "Emerging Churches" (Gibbs and Bolger), "Who wants to listen to abstract, contextless propositions when one can hear or watch a story unfold?" (p. 68)
Belonging and community take on much more meaning than beliefs, in our setting. Behavior is much more engaging than abstract truth statements- "How are we going to live?"
But, beliefs are not discarded, on the other hand. I've been pondering this recently: what beliefs are essential in this way of Jesus? I don't see this divorced from the larger framework of narrative and the story of God. I came across a nugget in a short book by James Reimer, "The Dogmatic Imagination," in which he takes on tough questions in seeking the "dynamics" of Christian belief.
In thinking about beliefs, and endeavoring to paint what beliefs might be crucial, he uses the metaphor of a Scrabble game vs. a jigsaw puzzle. The dynamic of beliefs is not like a jigsaw puzzle which is totally predetermined and there is no freedom. Each piece of the puzzle fits exactly in one spot. When I shared this notion with one friend, he said that for many Christians the metaphor is more like "paint-by-numbers." Good one! Robotic. No room to think. Just paint inside the lines.
In contrast, the Scrabble game gives freedom to the players, the outcome is not known until the end of the game, and reason and intelligence is involved. But, Reimer points out that there is a fixed component; "The cosmos is not entirely open."
This metaphor is compelling, for me. As we think of what beliefs are crucial (I want to include all three: belonging, behavior, and beliefs), there is freedom, we use reason, and it is not a rigid jigsaw puzzle or paint-by-numbers game. And yet, there is a fixed component- not all beliefs are the same and there is a broad parameter within which we are working.
So, there is room for diversity and differences of belief as we attempt to put words to the narrative- the Big Story of God. We can see things from different angles. We will differ with one another on some of these beliefs. And, yet "the cosmos is not entirely open." As we attempt to identify core beliefs, there is great freedom and yet there is a fixed game board that we are working with.
This metaphor helps me to see the folly of both extremes: on the one hand- a rigid view of abstract, propositional truths that allows no room for diversity; and on the other hand-a view that has no parameters for beliefs or places all beliefs on the same level.
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