Obama, Osama, oh mama!!

We have all heard the news by now about the alleged death of Osama bin Laden. We have also heard the many and varied responses to this event. The social media (e.g., Facebook and Twitter) was rife with comments, many of them from Christians. I found it troubling that Christians made comments in a tone of celebration and victory. In no way do I condone terrorism. I remember the events of 9/11 vividly. But the many issues related to this event should remind us that we need to be very clear not to mix our Christian faith with the actions of our government. If we say “justice has been done,” then we need to ask a series of other questions: How was justice done in killing thousands of innocents that led up to this killing? How was justice done when billions of dollars have been spent while children have not had adequate healthcare, food or education? If it was justice, what kind of justice was it? What is an appropriate Christian response to vengeance? How long will this so-called “perpetual war on terrorism” last? (as a perpetual war, it can never be considered just in the just war tradition w/in Christianity). And what do we make of the missing corpse, supposedly buried at sea? This sounds very fishy to me, albeit conspiratorial (it leaves open too many questions and I don't trust governments). These are just a few issues that emerge with this event.

I think we need to be very careful not to get caught up in this nationalistic fervor. Our allegiances, our focus and our ethics are not those of the U.S. government; we are citizens first of the kingdom of God. So if many Christians join in with the dominant voice of our nation and celebrate a killing of a human being (even one we deem so reprehensible as bin Laden), then it should give us pause. As we continue to sort out all the implications, and the subsequent questions that will still need to be resolved, we will have a lot of work to do, both as Christians and as a nation.

The work of the church, as I see it, is not about celebrating killing, vengeance or war. Our work is to follow Jesus, share God’s love and seek first this kingdom over and against any earthly kingdom, even our own. So as we go through this week, I hope we can temper the fervor with reason and caution.

Beer in a glass

Drinking beer in a glass is better than from a bottle or a plastic cup. It just is. And it needs to be good beer, not cheap, foul-tasting, mass-produced beer. A good microbrew will do. Drinking beer from a glass makes sense on several levels. It is appealing aesthetically. When you see the foam, the bubbles, and the color (based on the variety of brew) it just looks good and it's pleasing to the eyes. And good beer--like good wine--has distinct aromas. Hoppy beers have different floral or woodsy smells. Malty beers have their unique aromas. Dark beers have smokey, burnt odors depending on how much or how long the malts have been toasted, roasted or smoked. Add to these complexities with other ingredients (like fruit) and you have a virtual olfactory smorgasbord that is near orgasmic (okay, maybe not orgasmic but it is damn good smelling! I think my nipples got erect once when I was smelling a good IPA!). So when you drink beer out of a glass, these are the things that can be experienced and noticed.

The other reason why beer should be drunk from a glass is because it is just the right thing to do; it is a good thing to do. Life is too short to miss out on drinking beer any other way. It is a time when a person can be mindful of what they are doing--drinking beer--but it is not just drinking beer. To borrow from a soliloquy in the film "Sideways," drinking beer can take mindfulness to a new level: When enjoying a good IPA, what kind of hops were used? Hops from Oregon, Washington state, or Germany? What kind of floral fragrances are detected? Rose? Daffodil (a famous flower in the Pacific Northwest)? And who was the brewer? What was she thinking when she was crafting this beer? What circumstances in her life brought her to craft this particular brew? Why was this kind of hops chosen? Who tilled, cultivated, tended and harvested the hops? How much were their wages? And then you finally get to sample a glass of this good IPA, and you see a frothy, thick foam head develop at the top of the glass, and you see the bubbles pulsating from the bottom up. You raise your glass and take a huge inhalation and whiff of all the complexities of this good brew. But the most important thing to ponder when sipping a good IPA: Notice how oh so damn good it tastes?

Perhaps this experience is not for everyone, but it is for me. I like to drink beer from a glass--a good beer, and a good glass--when I am pondering life with friends. I like to do this when theology is the topic at hand and deep, difficult issues and questions are raised to and about God. And I like to drink beer from a glass with friends and family over a good meal that has been created with as much forethought and creativity as the beer that I am sharing. Life is too short not to ponder these things. And good beer is too good to be wasted in mass production, silly ad campaigns or fancy packing. Just drink beer and appreciate life, and good company, and think often of all the things about good beer. It mirrors life, because it is itself life. End of story.

Retired Bishops speak

The recent statement issued by 32 retired United Methodist Bishops is hugely significant! These retired bishops (though 'retired' they are bishops for life) issued a statement that calls for change of the language in our current Book of Discipline: “…The practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. Therefore self-avowed practicing homosexuals are not to be certified as candidates, ordained as ministers, or appointed to serve in The United Methodist Church.” ¶304.3 We all know that this statement is not these Bishops speaking "for" the Church, but I am so glad they are speaking "to" the Church!

There are several reasons why this language should be changed. For one, it is inconsistent with the language in our Social Principles. There the language is "since we CONSIDER . . . " It is absolutely inconsistent for us to claim in one place that we 'consider' something and then in another place we definitively say 'it is.' This is double-speak and it is untenable. This glaring inconsistency is evidence of our ambiguous and divisive positions.

Second, this language should change because it is not indicative of our wider Church's views. To be sure, there is a vocal (and fiscal) majority in certain regions where our current language is not problematic. Sadly, for some this language is not strong enough. For too long we have allowed fundamentalist voices in our denomination to hold sway in our legislative processes. This stronghold is more about political power than it is about responsible, historical hermeneutics. The vote at the 2008 General Conference was the closest ever and surely within the next two quadrennial periods, this position to change the language will become a majority.

Finally, in a denomination that continues to bemoan decline in membership, it just makes good sense not to exclude a segment of our population with tremendous resources (not just money). We all know that for decades, we have already had countless members (both lay and clergy) who identify as GLBTQ who have served effectively and faithfully in our churches. It is high time that we remove the shroud of secrecy and shame and allow our sisters and brothers to live in the fullness of their calling and identity. We already affirm that all persons are created in the imago dei, so why should we continue to exclude? Inclusiveness makes good sense and our church would be enhanced if we truly included all persons ("all means all").

I am very grateful to our retired Bishops for taking this stance. Hopefully many more active Bishops will follow suit and speak out for justice and inclusion. In times when our denomination is going through many changes--some of which are eroding our connectional, episcopal system--this is something that makes me both proud and hopeful to be a United Methodist!

God did not win a national championship

Last night Auburn University's football team won the BCS National Championship. After the game, their coach, Gene Chizik, said, "God was smiling on us tonight." Once again, sports personalities make these kinds of comments, and once again, we theologians have to come in and clean it up. Obviously, God was not smiling on Auburn football: What Chizik saw in the sky was a quarter moon!

But obviously God was not smiling because God does not have a face, God does not have human emotions, and God is likely not even a personal being like us humans. In this regard, we have done the opposite of what our sacred texts tell us: We have created God in our own image. From what I read in the OT, God is anything but recognizable. God is not even nameable. God is elusive and mysterious. Of course, I realize that making these claims in some way violates everything I just said about God.

Let's imagine for a second that God indeed has these kinds of human emotions (like smiling for a particular team in football). There are many problems with this claim. If God was smiling on Auburn, why was God angry at the team that lost? They played well; they worked hard, too. And why would God be concerned with a game rife with ethical dilemmas? The winning quarterback was the center of much contraversy when his Pentecostal, preacher father was caught trying to "sell" his son to Mississippi State. He claimed throughout that he knew nothing of this. And Auburn and the NCAA allowed the quarterback to remain eligible and he eventually won the Heisman Trophy and now has won a national championship. So would God really favor a team with so many ethical inconsitencies? Wouldn't God be more concerned about other more important matters like the shooting in another part of the state where this game was held?

I wish sports people would not use God-talk after winning. It makes theology look bad, it makes God look bad, and it makes themselves look bad. Leave the God-talk off the field. It does not belong there and even if God really could smile, I doubt very seriously it would be about such a trivial thing as a college football game. Maybe the moon was smiling on Auburn, but not God. I am already preparing for more damage control: The Super Bowl is just weeks away!

Hard to be hopeful (but I will try)

Sometimes it is hard to be hopeful. Just the political climate alone in this nation is enough to make me want to move to Spain. The state of Texas is slowly becoming a theocracy in the worst way, and with another term of Rick Perry on the horizon, things will be bleak for sure. The mid-term elections revealed how so many of our voters simply do not care (and likely most of them do not know; ignorance is not bliss in this case) about real issues but they merely believe spin, innuendo and lies. A poli-sci friend is teaching a college class called National Government. I asked, "Is that in the theater department listed as a comedy?" He replied, "It's listed as a tragedy!" (and he was mostly serious).

But since this is a season of thanks, I will dig deep and try to be thankful for glimmers of hope. I am hopeful when I talk to young adults who are not duped by the far-right rhetoric that just does not add up. I am hopeful when one of our Bishops (Will Willimon) calls to task the Institute on Religion and Democracy (IRD) and says that they are no good for the Church and they do not represent Christian values by any stretch. I only wish other Bishops would make these kinds of stands. I am hopeful when I hear Warren Buffet say that the rich should pay more taxes and that tax cuts for the upper brackets never really do "trickle down." This kind of honesty from one of the richest persons in the U.S. is encouraging. I am hopeful when I know that many people (even if their motives are self-serving) will volunteer this week to help feed the poor and/or homeless. I am hopeful because we will soon begin another season in the church that is rooted on hope, liberation and new birth.

There are many other examples that help me remain hopeful. I know that hope is not just shallow optimism; it is something that comes with a price, it is hard work and it can transform not only our outlook on things but also our actions. In some ways, to reflect in this way is in itself to be hopeful. So I will continue to work at it no matter how dismal things appear to be. Ultimately, I can only control my own attitudes and actions. I am hoping that, too, will somehow make a difference. I hope.

Real politics

Heard a piece on radio about our current political scene. It seems that Republicans blame all of our current economic woes (though our recession has officially ended) on Obama. They say he is a socialist. They say he is a Muslim. The Tea Party folks say the same things and add several other false claims (lies). There are some things we know for sure. We know that during Bush's (pick one) administration spending went through the roof, the richest got the largest tax cuts, and our deficit doubled at least. And now, not quite 2 years of the Obama term, they are saying it is all his fault?

We also know that since Obama took office, the working class has actually paid less taxes. We know that Obama is undeniably not a Muslim. We know that Obama is far from being a socialist (when people in other countries hear this claim they laugh!). But it does not matter what the facts are. People believe these lies and so fear, hatred, and paranoia abounds. It is absolutely scary.

And there are double standards based on race. When the Tea Party gun lovers marched in Washington (in front of the White House even) with guns out in open, with signs of hatred, and camo garb, nothing happened. If a group of people of color (Middle Easterners, say) had done this, there would have been a fire storm of response and maybe even violent counter attacks.

Our current political scene is a big mess. Truthfully both sides have their serious problems. But if we allow the lies of many of the right wing to take control, we will see another Bush-era state of affairs. This means we will have more deficits, more ill will in the world toward the U.S.A., Wall Street running amok, and the upper rich brackets will continue to rule the day. I don't know how we can maintain civility, but I'm hoping that more Dems step up and speak truth. I know some are, but we need more. But then again, what do I care: I consider myself more aligned with the Green Party (i.e. if it still even exists!). God help us all!

Broadway Baptist

Another Baptist church in Texas has taken a big step. Broadway Baptist in Fort Worth severed ties to the Baptist General Convention of Texas over its continued support, acceptance, and welcoming of gay members. Truth is, this church has had this element for many years (and as rumor has it, including a somewhat prominent member). I suspect it was one of the things about this congregation that most everyone knew but chose not to talk about it. Nowadays, it is easier--for various reasons, good reasons--to talk openly about sexual orientation. And this has become easier for churches as well. This church has been a high-profile congregation for various reasons. Several of their former pastors have gone on to bigger things (Cecil Sherman, John Claypool, Weldon Gaddy, just to name a few). They have had women clergy and women deacons for decades. Further, when fundamentalism began its takeover of the SBC, Broadway was always aligned with the 'moderate' voice in that fight.

So it should come as no huge surprise that Broadway would now take this stance regarding welcoming persons in the GLBT community. It follows suit after Royal Lane Baptist Church in Dallas did the same thing and over the same issue. It is a new day in Texas Baptist life: Baptists are welcoming gays! But it is also a sign that some Baptist congregations are being Baptist again; they are being autonomous. This aspect of historic Baptist principles had been all but nullified when the fundamentalists took over, issued edicts, and changed language of the Baptist Faith and Message about women's issues and homosexuality. It became a climate of "either you believe as we do, or you're not a part of us" and local and state groups began "dis-associating" with dissenting congregations. This un-Baptist practice became commonplace for the new fundamentalist SBC. As a result, splinter Baptist groups emerged and the SBC did housecleaning on all its seminaries making them bastions of fundamentalism (e.g. prior to the takeover, no SBC seminaries espoused dispensationalism; now I would guess all of them do).

This "trend" has already begun in other states and especially among other Baptist groups (American Baptists), this has been taking place for years. Things take a little longer in the South. I only hope that our own denomination will grow up as well and we Methodists can begin to take similar stances towards our GLBT sisters and brothers. At the risk of stereotyping, if our Baptist friends can do this, certainly we can, too! We all need to take these positions on this and other issues that deal with social justice, peace and inclusion.

Quran-burning idiots

With news of this guy in Florida who will lead his "church" in a Quran-burning event, this got my mind to thinking on how to respond to such people. It reminds me that some people who get into this profession (or as it should be, 'calling) are just a bit crazy. As one of my clergy friends reminds me, the church seems to draw quite a few neurotics (and sometimes psychotics). My primal inclination is to want to fly to Florida (I could use the miles!) and deck him. I've seen pictures of him and I'm pretty sure I could take him down easily. But I know this would only be a temporary fix and inappropriate. So how do we respond?

One way is to talk to people. I will bring this up in small groups where I live. I will apologize to my Muslim acquaintance in the locker room at the Y. And I will write about it in venues like this blog. I couldn't get on to this guy's church website but, (it kept responding with 'server not found' . . . maybe he forgot to pay his internet fees) my suspicion is that he is an end-times, fundamentalist, dispensationalist, right-wing, uneducated preacher. Now mind you, I don't lump all of these categories as all-encompassing. One could be any one of those and not be a crazy, right-winger like Terry Jones. But he is obviously uneducated. He is ignorant--or in denial--about Christianity's own texts that are laced with violent language and imagery (Psalm 137:9 comes to mind . . . "Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!"). And what is more problematic, this language assumes that it is Yahweh-endorsed. Not to mention, Christian history continues to try and live down its own violent, imperialistic, oppressive past (at certain points, Christians did more than burn sacred texts, they burned people!).

If this guy follows through with his show of ignorance, the ripple effect will likely be wide. International attention will be detrimental. One thing to remember is that Terry Jones does not represent all of Christianity. In fact, I would say he is not even Christian. Likewise, we know that extremists of any ilk do not represent a consensus of any one group. Herein lies our hope: Maybe people of all faiths can remember that we each have our own lunatic fringe. In the meantime, perhaps we can do a better job of getting together and talking and learning from each other so we can always offer alternative voices. Also in the meantime, I wish Terry Jones would contract food poisoning or diarrhea (the two are often closely related) so that by Saturday he will be too weak and too sick to follow through with this insane act. I usually do not wish diarrhea on anyone, but in this case I will make an exception.

Hauerwas, war, and nonviolence

I need to go and get Stanley Hauerwas's new memoirs, Hannah's Child. I don't agree with all of what Hauerwas writes or says, but he is ever the theological provocateur that the Church needs. I especially like his views about violence and war: He is a staunch pacifist. He says that being a pacifist and being a xian are intrinsically tied together; because one is xian then it follows that one is pacifist.

This week's text from Luke is one that Hauerwas has preached on (I heard one such occasion many moons ago in Fort Worth). From his title, you can guess which text it is: "Hating Mothers as the Way to Peace." Again, I don't agree with all of it, but to challenge our long-held views about protecting family--even to the point of killing--is something he unpacks in this commentary. If we say we can kill to protect our loved ones, then we betray a part of our xian faith, i.e., the ethics of peace and not killing. I like it when he says that in war time, what soldiers ultimately become committed to is not a jingoist national pride. Rather, soldiers learn to kill to protect others in their ranks (and w/ whom they have come to know; the Speilberg film, Saving Private Ryan, I think, illustrated this brilliantly; the soldiers in that unit were very close, and what caused tension was when they went on a mission to find and save an "outsider"--Private Ryan--who was not even one of their own).

In our culture of violence and war, Hauerwas is a much needed voice. I heard him say once in a lecture to a group of preachers, "When was the last time you preached against war in the pulpit?" This was in the early stages of the invasion of Iraq in 2003. Too many preachers have become war mongers and at the same time, call it faithful xianity. Balderdash! Hauerwas reminds us that if we truly follow the radical ethics of xian discipleship, we cannot avoid the nonviolence of Jesus. I agree. We have been conditioned by many sources--TV, movies, children's cartoons, comics, etc--to accept redemptive violence that we cannot see any other way of interpreting our own xian redemption. Too many xians blindly accept the violent, bloody images of atonement as the only way to talk about our salvation (I disagree on this point with Hauerwas; he accepts the violent atonement but says it ends all other violence; it is untenable for me and for many).

I could prate on about such things, but suffice it to say: Stanley Hauerwas is a much needed voice for peace, nonviolence, and anti-war. Our nation is involved in 2 wars (one of them clearly an illegal war-Iraq) and the other a no-win situation (Afghanistan-3 other empires besides the U.S. empire has failed historically in this region; we cannot win there w/ conventional warfare). As xians being people of peace and nonviolence are and should be a part of our ethic and not seen as anti-American or left-wing radical. The gospel itself is radical. Hauerwas reminds us of that and of the cost of following.

Troublemakers

We tend to avoid tension, trouble, and conflict. I know I do (and in my line of work, it's not always a good thing). Church folks often play games with each other (and with clergy) in trying to deal with conflict and trouble. If we ignore it, it can fester and fume and explode later. Or if we try to confront it, we do it by talking to someone else (and thus the infamous triangle is consulted and the root of the problem is not faced). This is not always the case, but sometimes it is. I don't like conflict and trouble so my natural tendency is to avoid it, too.

When I read about Jesus it seems like he was getting into all kinds of trouble. But it is interesting to realize that the reasons he was getting into trouble were for being nice to others. He healed a woman on the Sabbath, and it pissed off some of the religious higher-ups. He healed a blind man and some folks didn't see it (literally and theologically) as a good thing. And as he continued to mingle and mix with the dregs and low-lifes of his day, he got into more trouble. This trouble eventually led to his death. It doesn't make sense . . . being snuffed out for being good and nice and accepting. Such is the lot for troublemakers throughout history--Jesus, Gandhi, MLK, Jr., women, people of color, et al. We don't quite know what to do with troublemakers so we kill them. This is true for the prophetic preachers and for criminals who we think are beyond redemption and/or restoration. So we kill them.

We religious folks can be lumped into these categories of "we" because "we" often fall into those groups of people who don't have a problem with killing troublemakers. Sometimes this is done literally (like with the death penalty in Texas) and sometimes we do it in cowardly ways (like when religious leaders stifle or squelch voices of reason and justice).

Hopefully my group of religious folks (both locally and broader) can learn to not kill troublemakers. Maybe we can learn to see them as opportunities for mercy and grace and healing. Maybe we can realize that if Jesus caused trouble for helping people, it would do us good to feel the stings of resentment and self-righteousness and alienation for doing the same.

There was a period in ministry where I was a troublemaker, and it was when I felt most alive and most at home with my convictions. Now, I tend to play it safe and not make waves. But maybe I/we need to be in those places where Jesus is still at work and still present. In those places there is trouble. I think I will go looking for trouble, and maybe trouble (or Jesus) will find me.

Pray this

This week I'm working on a text about prayer. We call it "the Lord's prayer" but it is more accurately "the model prayer." I prefer "debts/debtors" to "trespasses" because it just flows easier (not to mention King Jimmie got that one wrong). I've been trying to find just what I might say to a bunch of church folks about something many of them do on a regular (some daily) basis. I wonder how they would respond if I told them what I really think about prayer?

For a while and several years ago, I had been praying in what some might call the traditional, devotional way--get on one's knees, early in the morning, in a secluded room, and an exhaustive list of people/things to pray about. I did it this way for a few years quite consistently. I don't think the world suddenly got better from my daily practice. And then something happened: I worked a graveyard shift one summer--no more early morning/on my knees/secluded place/long-list prayers. For a while I struggled with how I might regain that practice but I never did. I felt guilty for a time, but I became a Methodist and realized that guilt was no longer necessary (or fashionable).

It dawned on me one day--and with the help of conversations, books, and the like--that I had been praying all the time, just not in the way I had before. I realized that reading was prayer (I include the daily newspaper, articles, Sports Illustrated, and just about anything). In the early '90's I found recycling to be a form of prayer. And I even think--trite as it might seem--that playing golf can be a form of prayer (after all, God's name is evoked quite often when I play!). I think the list is endless about ways or methods we can pray.

What I realized about prayer--and something I learned from the early days of on my knees--is that it is not so much about us asking God to do something for us or for others and we see the tangible results. When I pray I am changed and I am the only one that I might see change in. It is not something we do because we are commanded to do; I do it because it is a discipline and if I want to keep changing, growing and maturing I will do it.

When those followers asked Jesus in the text, "teach us to pray," I can imagine Jesus responding, "Just do what you've been doing and realize that each moment, each task, each creature, each experience is and can be sacred. Do that and you will know prayer." If Jesus actually said something like that--and maybe he did--he would have sounded very Buddhist; maybe he was and maybe I am, too. Amen.

Still growing up

Yesterday--for the first time--I directly addressed the issue of homosexuality from the pulpit. I have been at this place for two years; I figured we know each other well enough for me to speak honestly and openly (one member even thanked me for it!). I told them that I disagree with some our current UMC language that continues to exclude lesbian and gay sisters and brothers in our midst. They are our neighbors and, after all, we are called to love our neighbors . . . we don't get to choose which ones. "They" (I hesitate to even frame it like this) are also our friends, our colleagues, our parishioners and our family members. In fact, from what I read in the bible about such things, our neighbors are especially the ones who are beaten down and oppressed. I know/have known GLBTQ folks who have been beaten down--literally many of them--by good righteous folks like ourselves. We need to stop beating up our neighbors, and we need to change our Discipline language, and we need to truly see everyone as our neighbors. We need to stop playing word games with Scripture and we need to allow full inclusion in every sense of the word to all persons regardless of sexual orientation. We will all be the better for it.

I am not as active as I once was in things but preaching about this issue was scary. Previously, I hurled verbal grenades via the op/ed section of a small-town newspaper; that was easy (and quite fun). But it was different doing it in front of people and, to make matters worse, our A/C went out (as did the lights) in the chapel at the start of the service. I was literally sweating. In the end, no one seemed to be angry. I couldn't read faces well enough to know some thoughts. Hopefully my folks in this place have grown to love me enough--as I have grown to love them--and sometimes we just need to be honest with each other. I had suspected that I would eventually 'come out' on this issue (pun intended), I just didn't know when. A text about loving our neighbors seemed a good time to do it.

I think I grew up a bit more yesterday. I think I will continue to grow and mature. And hopefully we will keep working on this thing about loving our neighbors until we--all of us--will get it right, and we'll be able to "go and do likewise." Thus endeth the lesson.

Confessions from an undisciplined mind

Sometimes I sit and think about things; other times I just sit. Sitting and observing is a lost art. I am not really a Zen practitioner and I would certainly not want to go to the Himalayas, strip naked, and sit in the snow for 24 hours (or even in the summer, for that matter). But sometimes I need to just sit and watch the world--birds, insects, dogs, people (airports are good for this), or the breeze blowing trees and grass. This kind of sitting is good for the soul. It reminds me that my existence is not only about me. It reminds me that there are cycles and rhythms that are important to be in tune with and to hear or see or experience. And sometimes I would like to try and just sit with another person and not speak. Maybe share a good micro-brew or good whole-bean coffee or a good pinot, and just sit and be in each other's presence. Silence is not just golden it is also platinum and auburn and orange and blue and red. Silence is fuel and energy. My undisciplined mind just thought all this stuff up, or was it already there? I think I will just sit and ponder that idea a little bit.

People matter

This afternoon we had the 10th anniversary of JFON at our church (Justice For Our Neighbors). For 10 years immigrants have been able to get free, high-quality, legal assistance thru the ministry of JFON. Over the course of that time, over 2,000 people have been helped. We heard 2 stories today from immigrants who've benefitted from these services--they were incredible examples of how the Church meets needs, often behind the scenes. I have only been at this church for 10 mos., but I am damn proud of JFON! Their caring staff (which includes an attorney, an office staffperson, and a volunteer coordinator) make a difference in people's lives with hospitality, friendliness, compassion, and dignity. It is truly amazing to see how lives are transformed thru JFON.

Sadly, and sometimes in the eyes of the institution, these kinds of ministries sometimes do not matter because they do not bring in money to the church or they are not "one of us." This is an indictment of how the institution often gets in the way of ministry just by some aspects of its raison d'etre, i.e. to bring in more members and money (the 2 are usually closely, if not intricately, related). But after today, I know that what really matters in this stuff we call church is people. People matter. Seeing lives transformed matters. Building relationships matter. Hearing stories of people overcoming tremendous difficulties and getting their status or citizenship matters to each one of them. And it should matter to the church.

I continue to be cynical about the current state of affairs of the institutional church in which I am embedded. Days like today help me remain a "loyal oppositionist." I am loyal to remaining in the institution (often in spite of itself) but I am at the same time opposed to the ways the church continues to exclude, limit, categorize, or ignore.

Stanley Hauerwas once said, "God is killing the church and we goddamn well deserve it" (he responded to detractors to this statement with: "at least I used God's name twice!"). Today I witnessed the church alive and well but not in the ways that count. But everyone of these people--and countless others--matter, and matter greatly! So be it.

Stay-cation

I am finishing my first vacation week of 2009. It's been a stay-cation. I've rested, played, rested, read, and even did a little work (a big no-no, I know). Sabbath is not something we religious types do very well. As someone once said, it's likely the commandment we break the most often. As much as I know this, it is still difficult to slow down. I feel like the toddler who refuses to go to bed in fear of missing something. But the biblical notion of Sabbath is not just a day off; it is about being in tune with the rhythms of your body, the world, and your well-being. I think we were wired to take time off and not go full speed, 31 (that's another way of saying, 24-7; get it, 24 + 7=31; I know, I stole that from "Two and a Half Men"). We forget that the backdrop of the commandments was the exodus narrative that says slavery existed for the Hebrew people. The commandments reminded them that they were not commodities; they were created in God's image. In freedom, we are allowed to not be a part of the consumerism that is rampant. We are to keep certain things in perspective. Shalom is the concept of wholeness and not just the absence of conflict. As I conclude my vacation, I don't feel like I've rested enough. But I have one more day to sleep late. Then back to Sunday, a day of work. Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. Sabbath shalom!

The day after

Many of are not what sure to do the day after Easter. Some take the day off. Some work (like I did). Some do not even give it thought. The texts that follow Easter day tend to deal w/ the post-resurrection appearances and what that might mean for us. The text from the Gospel bearing John's name (whichever John it may've been; apparently there were many Johns in that part of the world) deals with doubt. Doubt is something I am familiar with since in my recent years I have ventured down what some might call the slippery slope of cynicism; I just call it growing up in my faith and realizing that the more I read, the more cynicism, more doubt, and more questions follow. At the same time, the more I know (or I think I know), the more I don't know. Ultimately, all this stuff is mystery to me. Not that I call my self a mystic, but I end up just realizing that I don't really know why I do what I do, or why I keep doing it, sometimes. I only know that what I experience is something that feeds me, equips me, and continues to call me (some would say this is the holy spirit; okay, I can see that). Whether I am cynical or even skeptical, I haven't thrown in the towel yet (it could happen tomorrow, but for today, not yet). Though I do not adhere to Anselm's atonement stuff, his famous dictum describes me well: Fides quaerens intellectum.

I believe; help my unbelief.

Rez . . what's it all about, alfie?.

I thought it fitting that I jump onto the blogosphere on the weekend we observe/celebrate resurrection (we xians, i.e.). I have admired from a distance many other bloggers and now I are one! I haven't the foggiest what the resurrection is all about, definitively. I do not think it is merely an actual, literal, historical event that xians have to hang our hat on or we are not xians. It is not one of the things on the list where we sign on the dotted line. I have come to understand this not from studying theology (though I've done that), not from a 'dark night of the soul' confirming experience, or not even from the holy spirit revealing this to me (whatever the hell that means!), but from officiating at funerals, from being w/ people when people they love die. That's right, I've come to understand this more clearly from learning more about death and what happens to people when someone checks out. I think resurrection is that which we do when we want someone (or something) to keep on living. How that is experienced is done in several ways: remembrance (anamnesis), love (indescribable, enduring love), items (photos, books, clothing), and laughter. In these ways--and countless other ways--someone or something has a life of its own and in some ways never really dies. I am continually trying to understand this, and help others understand, too, maybe. In the end, I'm just not really sure.

As my blog name suggests, I think that if in our lives we are not struggling, then in some ways we are not living. Maybe resurrection is yet another way we indeed keep on living in the very midst of that struggle we call life.