We once lived in the Sand Hills of Nebraska-- Richard, and Julia and I (this was before Jennifer). Geologically speaking, the Sand Hills are a moon-scape of stabilized dunes, held in place by long grass, yucca, wildflowers, and sage. It is an arid land. People there never dared pray for rain, they talked hopefully of getting “a little moisture.” It was an unsettled land until the railroad went through, and it would not have been a land to sustain much more than bird life if it weren’t for the ingenuity of the well. There was, in fact, plenty of water just below the surface. The Sand Hills cover the Ogallala Aquifer, a vast underground lake of fresh water. Folks might have to drill deep, but wherever they sink their well, they draw from the same aquifer. That’s how I visualize it, anyway: every pump pulling water up from the same source.
That is also how I see other spiritual traditions. Contemplative prayer, Gregorian chant, Buddhist meditation, Hatha yoga, Kabbalah, Sufism—all are born of the same yearning of the soul for union with the source of all life, which we call God. There are different wells, but ultimately, we draw from the same source.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Who Do You Think You Are?
I was in the car, listening to mid-day on Public Radio, and I think Julia was with me when I heard Mitch Albom talking about his book, Have a Little Faith. Albom was describing a conversation he had with his rabbi, who was nearing the end of his life. The rabbi prayed in his characteristic sing-song voice,
And he smiled.
But Mitch was uncomfortable, and his old rabbi could see that something was bothering him.
What?
Well, I don’t think we are going to the same place.
Why not?
Because, you’re on a different level, you’re a man of God.
So are you the rabbi said. Everyone is.
I could feel the rabbi’s pain when I heard that story. I said aloud, “The man’s been working all his life to tell you, Mitch, that you’re a child of God, and you still don’t get it! What’s up with that?”
Julia just laughed. She’s used to hearing me argue with the radio.
But even a man or woman of God needs reminding, now and then, of who and whose we are. It’s not just a New Testament thing, it goes back to the beginning, to when God made us, male and female, in God’s own image, God made us as children, created us and declared us good. Behold! It was very good.
And in the time of the prophet Isaiah God spoke to a people who felt something less than human, because they were a defeated and enslaved nation. God said,
This season of the church year which we call “after Epiphany,” or Ordinary Time, it begins and ends with the voice of God. When Jesus was baptized he, and perhaps he alone heard the voice say, you are my son, my beloved. And at the end of this season we will hear that again, when Jesus is on the mountaintop with Peter, James and John, and Moses and Elijah too. The cloud will cover the mountain and the voice from the cloud will boom,
Listen to him and watch and learn. Rabbi Jesus was all about calling people to their true identity. Calling them by name, and sometimes giving them a new name, something to live up to. To Simon the fisherman he said, you are the rock, Peter. There was a woman who was healed on the Sabbath day, a woman who was called “untouchable” by the pious religious leaders, but Jesus reminded them and her of her true name, “daughter of Israel.” And she was redeemed, set free, healed and made whole.
When we are lost, the one who calls us by name can save us.
Those of us who went on the mission trip to Pine Ridge (SD), had the privilege of witnessing a naming ceremony. When the Lakota people were defeated, seven generations ago, their children were taken into religious boarding schools. The children lost their homes and families, and the next thing that they lost was their names. Their Lakota names were taken from them, and they were given names like Mary and Sally and Jack and Will. They were forbidden to speak their old names. As the generations passed, so did the Lakota language.
But now, the people have recovered the power of their name. Lakota people do not chose their own names, but ask a tribal elder to dream a name for them. And the elder considers the person’s past and potential, and gives a Lakota name to live up to-- a name with the power to redeem, to set free.
When we are baptized, we are named. We speak the particular names by which the person who is being baptized will be called: like “Anna Sophia,” or “James Robert,” names given by their parents, to honor their ancestors, or confer a virtue. But we also speak our common name, the name that identifies us as members of the same family, the name which connects us with all the people of the earth: “Child of God.”
This is the name which has the power to remind us who and whose we are, and therefore call us out from darkness into light, from slavery into freedom, from sickness into wholeness. This is the name which reminds us that we are born for blessing, created and declared good. This is the name which calls us to rise up and become master over our addictions, healer of our wounds, and restorers of our own brokenness.
It is also the name that reminds us of our relation to every living thing. It reminds us that the irritating clerk at the store is our sister, that the man writing up a speeding ticket is our brother. When we are tempted to say in anger and frustration, “Just who do you think you are,” we must stop and remember that we know the answer to that question already. You are a child of God. So before we speak or act we must remember that we are bound together, as members of one family. When we live in peace, God rejoices.
We have the opportunity today to remember our baptism, to remember who and whose we are by participating in an affirmation of baptism. If you chose you can come to the font and receive a sprinkling of the water and a reminder of your identity and a call to remember your baptism.
We have the opportunity every day to give to another the same power that comes from remembering and being called by our true name, "child of God." How do we confirm that identity in others? In what ways can we speak and act to convince the self-destructive youth and the withering elder that they are children of God. How do we reach out, and down, and raise a brother up, wake a sister from living death-- like Jesus did? For if we are imitators of Christ, that is what we must do. If we are followers of Jesus, that is the way to go.
May God bless us with insight, and creativity, and courage to follow the light that goes before us. Amen.
Dear God,
Please let Mitch lead a long and interesting life,
So that when we meet in heaven,
We will have lots to talk about.
And he smiled.
But Mitch was uncomfortable, and his old rabbi could see that something was bothering him.
What?
Well, I don’t think we are going to the same place.
Why not?
Because, you’re on a different level, you’re a man of God.
So are you the rabbi said. Everyone is.
I could feel the rabbi’s pain when I heard that story. I said aloud, “The man’s been working all his life to tell you, Mitch, that you’re a child of God, and you still don’t get it! What’s up with that?”
Julia just laughed. She’s used to hearing me argue with the radio.
But even a man or woman of God needs reminding, now and then, of who and whose we are. It’s not just a New Testament thing, it goes back to the beginning, to when God made us, male and female, in God’s own image, God made us as children, created us and declared us good. Behold! It was very good.
And in the time of the prophet Isaiah God spoke to a people who felt something less than human, because they were a defeated and enslaved nation. God said,
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, you are mine!”
This season of the church year which we call “after Epiphany,” or Ordinary Time, it begins and ends with the voice of God. When Jesus was baptized he, and perhaps he alone heard the voice say, you are my son, my beloved. And at the end of this season we will hear that again, when Jesus is on the mountaintop with Peter, James and John, and Moses and Elijah too. The cloud will cover the mountain and the voice from the cloud will boom,
“This is my Son, my beloved. Listen to him!”
Listen to him and watch and learn. Rabbi Jesus was all about calling people to their true identity. Calling them by name, and sometimes giving them a new name, something to live up to. To Simon the fisherman he said, you are the rock, Peter. There was a woman who was healed on the Sabbath day, a woman who was called “untouchable” by the pious religious leaders, but Jesus reminded them and her of her true name, “daughter of Israel.” And she was redeemed, set free, healed and made whole.
When we are lost, the one who calls us by name can save us.
Those of us who went on the mission trip to Pine Ridge (SD), had the privilege of witnessing a naming ceremony. When the Lakota people were defeated, seven generations ago, their children were taken into religious boarding schools. The children lost their homes and families, and the next thing that they lost was their names. Their Lakota names were taken from them, and they were given names like Mary and Sally and Jack and Will. They were forbidden to speak their old names. As the generations passed, so did the Lakota language.
But now, the people have recovered the power of their name. Lakota people do not chose their own names, but ask a tribal elder to dream a name for them. And the elder considers the person’s past and potential, and gives a Lakota name to live up to-- a name with the power to redeem, to set free.
When we are baptized, we are named. We speak the particular names by which the person who is being baptized will be called: like “Anna Sophia,” or “James Robert,” names given by their parents, to honor their ancestors, or confer a virtue. But we also speak our common name, the name that identifies us as members of the same family, the name which connects us with all the people of the earth: “Child of God.”
This is the name which has the power to remind us who and whose we are, and therefore call us out from darkness into light, from slavery into freedom, from sickness into wholeness. This is the name which reminds us that we are born for blessing, created and declared good. This is the name which calls us to rise up and become master over our addictions, healer of our wounds, and restorers of our own brokenness.
It is also the name that reminds us of our relation to every living thing. It reminds us that the irritating clerk at the store is our sister, that the man writing up a speeding ticket is our brother. When we are tempted to say in anger and frustration, “Just who do you think you are,” we must stop and remember that we know the answer to that question already. You are a child of God. So before we speak or act we must remember that we are bound together, as members of one family. When we live in peace, God rejoices.
How very good and pleasant it is when brothers and sister live together in unity! (Psalm 133)
We have the opportunity today to remember our baptism, to remember who and whose we are by participating in an affirmation of baptism. If you chose you can come to the font and receive a sprinkling of the water and a reminder of your identity and a call to remember your baptism.
We have the opportunity every day to give to another the same power that comes from remembering and being called by our true name, "child of God." How do we confirm that identity in others? In what ways can we speak and act to convince the self-destructive youth and the withering elder that they are children of God. How do we reach out, and down, and raise a brother up, wake a sister from living death-- like Jesus did? For if we are imitators of Christ, that is what we must do. If we are followers of Jesus, that is the way to go.
May God bless us with insight, and creativity, and courage to follow the light that goes before us. Amen.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
About Time
“Our God, Our Help in Ages Past” is Hymn #1 in the Pilgrim Hymnal, which was the hymnal of my childhood church, and of this church too until about 14 years ago. There is a verse we rarely sang (because it was the fifth verse, we usually only sang the first four), but when I read it as a child it chilled me to the bone:
Time is a cannibal? Time eats its own children? I could not imagine why this verse was in the hymnal. It perplexed me to no end.
Another hymn of my childhood was not in the Pilgrim Hymnal, but it was in the Genesis songbook that we used in youth group. It was also about time:
Two songs, one written almost 300 years before the other, share a similar message about the nature of time. It is no respecter of dreams or desires. Time is not vindictive. There is nothing personal in the march of time. Time just is what it is, and will be what it will be. Time moves, rolls like an ever-flowing stream, rises like a flood.
The first conversation in the book, Changing the Conversation is called “It’s not about you.” We humans tend to take a lot of things personally, even things which are impersonal, things which neither we, nor anyone else, can control. When it’s warm and sunny during our summer vacation, we might attribute it to the grace of God or a benevolent spirit: “Somebody up there must like me.” If its cold and rainy, “What did I do to deserve this?” It’s just weather. It’s not about you, right?
The times have been “a-changin’,” and the church as we knew it has been, in a sense, “borne away.” Not just our church, all churches. It’s nothing personal. It’s nothing you or I or anyone else did wrong. It just is.
The Arts Committee has created this display (see it in the Fellowship Hall)to help us begin that first conversation (It’s not about you), and to bid farewell to “Christendom.” (It also inspired us to empty out a few junk drawers, which were stuffed with old photos!)
As you look at these faces and places, remember and give thanks for what is past. And, let it go. Hear the words of the prophet Isaiah:
Or, if you must remember the former things, don’t worship them. You may consider what is past, but don’t let is keep you from participating in the present and celebrating the new life that God is creating. “Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day. (Isaac Watts)
Time is a cannibal? Time eats its own children? I could not imagine why this verse was in the hymnal. It perplexed me to no end.
Another hymn of my childhood was not in the Pilgrim Hymnal, but it was in the Genesis songbook that we used in youth group. It was also about time:
Come gather ‘round people wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have grown
And accept it that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone,
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone,
FOR THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGIN’! (Bob Dylan)
Two songs, one written almost 300 years before the other, share a similar message about the nature of time. It is no respecter of dreams or desires. Time is not vindictive. There is nothing personal in the march of time. Time just is what it is, and will be what it will be. Time moves, rolls like an ever-flowing stream, rises like a flood.
The first conversation in the book, Changing the Conversation is called “It’s not about you.” We humans tend to take a lot of things personally, even things which are impersonal, things which neither we, nor anyone else, can control. When it’s warm and sunny during our summer vacation, we might attribute it to the grace of God or a benevolent spirit: “Somebody up there must like me.” If its cold and rainy, “What did I do to deserve this?” It’s just weather. It’s not about you, right?
The times have been “a-changin’,” and the church as we knew it has been, in a sense, “borne away.” Not just our church, all churches. It’s nothing personal. It’s nothing you or I or anyone else did wrong. It just is.
The Arts Committee has created this display (see it in the Fellowship Hall)to help us begin that first conversation (It’s not about you), and to bid farewell to “Christendom.” (It also inspired us to empty out a few junk drawers, which were stuffed with old photos!)
As you look at these faces and places, remember and give thanks for what is past. And, let it go. Hear the words of the prophet Isaiah:
Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert. (Isaiah 43:18-19)
Or, if you must remember the former things, don’t worship them. You may consider what is past, but don’t let is keep you from participating in the present and celebrating the new life that God is creating. “Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Seeing Salvation
In the gospel of Luke, in the words of the “Song of Zechariah,” Zechariah prophesied that his son John will be the one to prepare the way for the one who will give people “knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of sins.” A few chapters later, John is described as the one who will prepare the way for the one who is to come, in whom “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
There is a precedent in scripture, for seeing salvation. Time and again God gives us a clue, a sign, a far-off glimpse of salvation. Moses got a view of salvation when he stood on the mountaintop and saw the Promised Land. Martin Luther King, Jr, who referred to that mountaintop experience in his last sermon, he too had a glimpse of salvation. Neither Martin nor Moses ever got to set foot in their Promised Land, but they saw and described what salvation looked like, each in his own time, each to his own people.
God gives us glimpses of salvation, and a kind of a road map of how to get there, but the rest is up to us. The land flowing with milk and honey was a part of the covenant promise God made with the people. Another part of the covenant was the law, God’s model of how to participate in the creation and the maintenance of salvation.
First, you need to know the setting of the story: It is Lemmon, South Dakota, a town in sparsely populated ranch country, not unlike the town of Hyannis, Nebraska, where I once lived. And what you need to know about rural, ranching communities is that after high school graduation, there are not a lot of options for young folk. If you are young in Hyannis, Nebraska, or Lemmon, South Dakota, and you decide to stay and work the ranch, like your parents, well, your parents will be pleased to have you around, but also, a little disappointed. They will wonder what’s wrong with you. Why you don’t go to college, or find work in one of the bigger cities, like North Platte, or Omaha, or maybe Denver. But if you decide to go to college, or to the city, well, then, “Who do you think you are? I suppose you’re too good for us now.” So you see, you can’t win.
Kathleen tells the story of one of these young men from Lemmon, who decided to leave, and try his luck in the city. He wasn’t well equipped for life in the city, he had a hard time finding a job that would support even a meager subsistence. Eventually, he did hit upon a lucrative, but illegal trade, selling drugs. And he thought life was great! Until, one day, he was driving out in the countryside with a “business colleague” They spotted an oncoming car and waved, which is something you just do, out west. There are so few people out there, that when you see a vehicle approaching you get ready to make eye contact and offer a friendly wave, because it’s likely somebody you know and you wouldn’t want to appear unfriendly. Well, this young man’s friend, who was driving, did indeed recognize the driver of the oncoming car, and he pulled over and stopped, and said, “I’m supposed to kill that guy.”
“I’m supposed to kill that guy, but someone was with him.” He pulled a gun out of the glove compartment as he contemplated his next move. The young man from Lemmon saw, for the first time, where his life was headed, if he continued down this path he had chosen to follow. And he later told Kathleen Norris, who wrote it down in a book, that at that moment, he knew, that if he survived the day, he was going to turn around, and go home.
That was the moment at which he saw salvation, and seeing it from a distance, began to make his way there. His life was saved. That is salvation.
Jesus came to show us salvation, and that is what he did. The parables are, in a sense, salvation sightings.
It looks like finding the coin that you thought was lost! It looks like planting seed and reaping a harvest!
Jesus also used the “object lesson” to show us salvation. One day, when people were gathered on a hillside to hear him preach, and it was getting late, and his disciples said, you better wrap it up and send these people home to get their supper, Jesus said to his disciples, “You give them something to eat.” They pooled their bread and fish, and Jesus took the bread and blessed it and broke it and began to share. And lo and behold, there was enough for everyone. More than enough, in fact, there were leftovers.
That’s what salvation is like.
What does salvation look like to you? Maybe it looks like the face of a loved one, who is there beside you when you come out of surgery and the haze of anesthesia, and you realize you are not dead!”
Maybe it looks like your sister reaching out and lifting you out of the lake after you fell through the ice (Lisa W shared this story with me).
We are the body of Christ, and individually, members of it, and therefore, it is our task to give to the world “knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of sins.” As the body of Christ, how can we show people what salvation looks like?
After describing salvation in the parable of the man who was saved by the good Samaritan, Jesus said, go and do likewise. Participate in someone’s salvation. Go and do likewise.
As we share this bread, and this cup, see in this meal the salvation of God, and go and do likewise.
Thanks be to God, for this salvation sighting. Amen.
There is a precedent in scripture, for seeing salvation. Time and again God gives us a clue, a sign, a far-off glimpse of salvation. Moses got a view of salvation when he stood on the mountaintop and saw the Promised Land. Martin Luther King, Jr, who referred to that mountaintop experience in his last sermon, he too had a glimpse of salvation. Neither Martin nor Moses ever got to set foot in their Promised Land, but they saw and described what salvation looked like, each in his own time, each to his own people.
God gives us glimpses of salvation, and a kind of a road map of how to get there, but the rest is up to us. The land flowing with milk and honey was a part of the covenant promise God made with the people. Another part of the covenant was the law, God’s model of how to participate in the creation and the maintenance of salvation.
“Salvation” is a word that we don’t use much, it is a “churchy” word and perhaps one that we are not very comfortable with.Kathleen Norris, in her book Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith tells a story to describe salvation.
First, you need to know the setting of the story: It is Lemmon, South Dakota, a town in sparsely populated ranch country, not unlike the town of Hyannis, Nebraska, where I once lived. And what you need to know about rural, ranching communities is that after high school graduation, there are not a lot of options for young folk. If you are young in Hyannis, Nebraska, or Lemmon, South Dakota, and you decide to stay and work the ranch, like your parents, well, your parents will be pleased to have you around, but also, a little disappointed. They will wonder what’s wrong with you. Why you don’t go to college, or find work in one of the bigger cities, like North Platte, or Omaha, or maybe Denver. But if you decide to go to college, or to the city, well, then, “Who do you think you are? I suppose you’re too good for us now.” So you see, you can’t win.
Kathleen tells the story of one of these young men from Lemmon, who decided to leave, and try his luck in the city. He wasn’t well equipped for life in the city, he had a hard time finding a job that would support even a meager subsistence. Eventually, he did hit upon a lucrative, but illegal trade, selling drugs. And he thought life was great! Until, one day, he was driving out in the countryside with a “business colleague” They spotted an oncoming car and waved, which is something you just do, out west. There are so few people out there, that when you see a vehicle approaching you get ready to make eye contact and offer a friendly wave, because it’s likely somebody you know and you wouldn’t want to appear unfriendly. Well, this young man’s friend, who was driving, did indeed recognize the driver of the oncoming car, and he pulled over and stopped, and said, “I’m supposed to kill that guy.”
“I’m supposed to kill that guy, but someone was with him.” He pulled a gun out of the glove compartment as he contemplated his next move. The young man from Lemmon saw, for the first time, where his life was headed, if he continued down this path he had chosen to follow. And he later told Kathleen Norris, who wrote it down in a book, that at that moment, he knew, that if he survived the day, he was going to turn around, and go home.
That was the moment at which he saw salvation, and seeing it from a distance, began to make his way there. His life was saved. That is salvation.
Jesus came to show us salvation, and that is what he did. The parables are, in a sense, salvation sightings.
Whenever Jesus began to say, “The kingdom of God is like,” he proceeded to paint of picture of salvation.Salvation is like this: It’s like a younger son, saying to his father, “Give me my inheritance now,” and then going off and spending it wastefully. When he realizes that he has been foolish, he repents, he turns around and goes home, expecting punishment, but instead, he is forgiven and treated to a feast! That’s what salvation looks like.
It looks like finding the coin that you thought was lost! It looks like planting seed and reaping a harvest!
Jesus also used the “object lesson” to show us salvation. One day, when people were gathered on a hillside to hear him preach, and it was getting late, and his disciples said, you better wrap it up and send these people home to get their supper, Jesus said to his disciples, “You give them something to eat.” They pooled their bread and fish, and Jesus took the bread and blessed it and broke it and began to share. And lo and behold, there was enough for everyone. More than enough, in fact, there were leftovers.
That’s what salvation is like.
When we share this meal, we repeat the object lesson. Here, at this table, all are welcome, and everyone gets what they need. No one gets too much, no one gets too little. In this meal, we get a glimpse of salvation.
What does salvation look like to you? Maybe it looks like the face of a loved one, who is there beside you when you come out of surgery and the haze of anesthesia, and you realize you are not dead!”
Maybe it looks like your sister reaching out and lifting you out of the lake after you fell through the ice (Lisa W shared this story with me).
We are the body of Christ, and individually, members of it, and therefore, it is our task to give to the world “knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of sins.” As the body of Christ, how can we show people what salvation looks like?
After describing salvation in the parable of the man who was saved by the good Samaritan, Jesus said, go and do likewise. Participate in someone’s salvation. Go and do likewise.
As we share this bread, and this cup, see in this meal the salvation of God, and go and do likewise.
Thanks be to God, for this salvation sighting. Amen.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Everywhere a sign
When we are driving down the road, and see in our rearview mirror the flashing lights of an ambulance, we know it’s time to slow down and move out of the way.
When we hear the whistle blowing, we know it’s time to look out for the train.
When we are at home, lying in our beds, and we hear the ear-piercing “beep,” we know it’s time to get up and change the batteries in the smoke detector.
So many signs, so many signals. Our response to most of these signs is so automatic we barely notice the process of interpretation. The alarm clock rings, the toast pops, the coffee-pot gurgles, time to begin a new day.
There are always signs.
Here are some signs:
The vast majority of weddings I have conducted over the past 19 years have been for non-church-members. Most of those couples, usually in their 20’s, had not attended church except for occasional holiday services. Most of their parents, usually in their 40’s, were not members of any church. To find any church members in their family, they have to go back to their grandparents’ generation, and then they might have one out of four grandparents who is an active member of a church.
A recent study of American religious congregations found that every Christian denomination was shrinking. Evangelical churches and mainline churches are all losing members. The fastest growing demographic is “no religious preference.” Also growing in number is the group of people who say they are “spiritual, but not religious.”
These are signs of the times. But how do we interpret them? And what should we do? We know how to interpret the flashing lights and the train whistle and the alarm clock, and we know how to respond to them. But what about these signs of the times? What change in behavior do they require of us?
It’s hard to say. Most really big events, which become known as signs of the times, are only identified in hindsight. As I wrote in my newsletter article: The birth of Jesus changed everything. But when Jesus was born, who knew what was happening? Most people had no idea that a child was being born who would change the world. If the innkeeper in Luke’s story knew, he would have made room in the inn.
Just so, most events that are considered signs of great change are identified only after the fact. Consider the Guttenberg press. This technology—the printing press—signaled the dawn of a new age of enlightenment. It enabled people to print their thoughts and share their ideas more broadly and quickly than ever before, and this sharing of ideas enabled the development of other technologies which eventually grew into an industrial revolution. That printing press changed the world.
But at the time, who knew? Guttenberg’s neighbors probably complained about the horrible racket this new contraption made. Some people were probably worried that this printing press be a threat to “family values.” If anybody could get their ideas printed, for anybody to read, well, who knows what might happen?
Some of us have been reading a book called “Changing the Conversation.” In it, the author writes about a monumental change in culture, a sea-change, he calls it. The world has changed, and the church has changed, and we know this is true, and most of the change is for the best. Think about the world of Dick, Jane and Sally, those characters who taught us how to read. Some of you only had Dick and Jane—but I came in late to the series and so Sally was a part of that family too, by then. And Spot. “See spot run.”
In Dick, Jane and Sally’s world everyone went to church. Everyone. Some of our neighbors went to different churches, but everyone went somewhere. The shops weren’t open, so there was nothing else to do anyway. And when we went to church, men wore suits. And ladies wore dresses, and hats, and white gloves. Remember the gloves? Maybe if we started wearing gloves to church again we could shake hands without worrying about the flu virus. Maybe we should bring glove fashion back. But the rest of it, the suits and the dresses and the hats, they are gone, and most of us think it’s a good thing.
So, this group that has been meeting, and reading, we have been considering how to be the church in a new world. How might we respond to the signs of the times, these signs of a missing generation?
One common response to this information (I have heard it so often!) is to say, it’s normal that young people leave church for a time. They will come back once they have children of their own. Well, right away I can identify a couple of flaws in this logic.
First, most of that missing generation have no church to go back to. They never were involved in church. Their parents didn’t take them to church. It’s not even something that they consider “normal.” It’s not that they don’t like church, they just don’t think of it at all, except as a place to go for weddings and funerals. The kids are not coming back, because most of them were never here in the first place.
The second flaw in the logic is that even the young people who were raised in a congregation live in a different world from the one which formed our reasoning. Back when “Dick and Jane” went to church in their suits and hats and white gloves, it was a different world. In Dick and Jane’s world, young people graduated from high school, went to work, and got married. Then they started having children about 9 months and 10 minutes later. So that period of being “out” of church, between high school graduation and parenthood, was only a few years.
But today, today we have different expectations. Today, we don’t want our children getting married after high school. We want them to go to college, and then get established in their careers. Then maybe when they are about thirty, they can have their first serious boyfriend or girlfriend, and then get married, and then a few years after that, when they are ready, they might have children. Or not.
So, if we accept it as “normal” that children will leave church after confirmation, at age 15, and come back after they have children, that could be, what, 20 years later? That is a long time to go without the support and love of a congregation.
That’s why it is urgent that we begin to find new ways to be the church, in a new world. It is urgent. But I want to make it perfectly clear that there is a difference between urgency and anxiety. I'll say it again.
Anxiety is a worthless emotion. Anxiety interferes with our ability to think creatively. Anxiety causes a change in our brain chemistry, which diverts blood flow from our cerebral cortex, the problem solving part of the brain, and sends it to the brain stem, the basic animal brain, the part of the brain that gets the body ready to fight, or run away. So anxiety is no good, because it starves this beautiful cerebral cortex that God designed for reasoning and creating, and we will need all the reason and creativity we can muster.
What did Jesus say, time and again? “Be not afraid.” Do not be anxious. The signs of the times, the change that is coming, is not something to fear. In the gospel lesson today Jesus says when you see the signs, Look up! Because your redemption is drawing near! Freedom is drawing near! Salvation is drawing near! It’s not the end, it’s the beginning, it’s new life!
Like I said, Jesus changed everything. Jesus changed the way people thought about their religion. That’s why he was always in trouble with the religious authorities, the good, upright and pious people of his day. The Pharisees, the scribes, the leaders of synagogues accused him of being irreligious, because he and his disciples didn’t follow all the traditions. What Jesus taught was that some traditions are not essential. Some traditions, in fact, just get in the way of being in a right relationship with God. The essential tradition is mercy. Jesus said to the Pharisees and scribes, “Go learn what this means, I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” It is mercy, love, and forgiveness that really matter, and the rest is like the chaff that the wind drives away. Let it go. Hold on to mercy, forgiveness, distributive justice, and love.
And be not afraid. There is a future, with God. Behold your redeemer comes! Thanks be to God, for the signs of the times.
When we hear the whistle blowing, we know it’s time to look out for the train.
When we are at home, lying in our beds, and we hear the ear-piercing “beep,” we know it’s time to get up and change the batteries in the smoke detector.
So many signs, so many signals. Our response to most of these signs is so automatic we barely notice the process of interpretation. The alarm clock rings, the toast pops, the coffee-pot gurgles, time to begin a new day.
There are always signs.
Here are some signs:
The vast majority of weddings I have conducted over the past 19 years have been for non-church-members. Most of those couples, usually in their 20’s, had not attended church except for occasional holiday services. Most of their parents, usually in their 40’s, were not members of any church. To find any church members in their family, they have to go back to their grandparents’ generation, and then they might have one out of four grandparents who is an active member of a church.
A recent study of American religious congregations found that every Christian denomination was shrinking. Evangelical churches and mainline churches are all losing members. The fastest growing demographic is “no religious preference.” Also growing in number is the group of people who say they are “spiritual, but not religious.”
These are signs of the times. But how do we interpret them? And what should we do? We know how to interpret the flashing lights and the train whistle and the alarm clock, and we know how to respond to them. But what about these signs of the times? What change in behavior do they require of us?
Most "signs" are identified in hindsight.
It’s hard to say. Most really big events, which become known as signs of the times, are only identified in hindsight. As I wrote in my newsletter article: The birth of Jesus changed everything. But when Jesus was born, who knew what was happening? Most people had no idea that a child was being born who would change the world. If the innkeeper in Luke’s story knew, he would have made room in the inn.
Just so, most events that are considered signs of great change are identified only after the fact. Consider the Guttenberg press. This technology—the printing press—signaled the dawn of a new age of enlightenment. It enabled people to print their thoughts and share their ideas more broadly and quickly than ever before, and this sharing of ideas enabled the development of other technologies which eventually grew into an industrial revolution. That printing press changed the world.
But at the time, who knew? Guttenberg’s neighbors probably complained about the horrible racket this new contraption made. Some people were probably worried that this printing press be a threat to “family values.” If anybody could get their ideas printed, for anybody to read, well, who knows what might happen?
Changing the Conversation: A Third Way for Congregations. by Anthony B. Robinson
Some of us have been reading a book called “Changing the Conversation.” In it, the author writes about a monumental change in culture, a sea-change, he calls it. The world has changed, and the church has changed, and we know this is true, and most of the change is for the best. Think about the world of Dick, Jane and Sally, those characters who taught us how to read. Some of you only had Dick and Jane—but I came in late to the series and so Sally was a part of that family too, by then. And Spot. “See spot run.”
In Dick, Jane and Sally’s world everyone went to church. Everyone. Some of our neighbors went to different churches, but everyone went somewhere. The shops weren’t open, so there was nothing else to do anyway. And when we went to church, men wore suits. And ladies wore dresses, and hats, and white gloves. Remember the gloves? Maybe if we started wearing gloves to church again we could shake hands without worrying about the flu virus. Maybe we should bring glove fashion back. But the rest of it, the suits and the dresses and the hats, they are gone, and most of us think it’s a good thing.
So, this group that has been meeting, and reading, we have been considering how to be the church in a new world. How might we respond to the signs of the times, these signs of a missing generation?
One common response to this information (I have heard it so often!) is to say, it’s normal that young people leave church for a time. They will come back once they have children of their own. Well, right away I can identify a couple of flaws in this logic.
First, most of that missing generation have no church to go back to. They never were involved in church. Their parents didn’t take them to church. It’s not even something that they consider “normal.” It’s not that they don’t like church, they just don’t think of it at all, except as a place to go for weddings and funerals. The kids are not coming back, because most of them were never here in the first place.
Dick and Jane don't live here anymore.
The second flaw in the logic is that even the young people who were raised in a congregation live in a different world from the one which formed our reasoning. Back when “Dick and Jane” went to church in their suits and hats and white gloves, it was a different world. In Dick and Jane’s world, young people graduated from high school, went to work, and got married. Then they started having children about 9 months and 10 minutes later. So that period of being “out” of church, between high school graduation and parenthood, was only a few years.
But today, today we have different expectations. Today, we don’t want our children getting married after high school. We want them to go to college, and then get established in their careers. Then maybe when they are about thirty, they can have their first serious boyfriend or girlfriend, and then get married, and then a few years after that, when they are ready, they might have children. Or not.
So, if we accept it as “normal” that children will leave church after confirmation, at age 15, and come back after they have children, that could be, what, 20 years later? That is a long time to go without the support and love of a congregation.
That’s why it is urgent that we begin to find new ways to be the church, in a new world. It is urgent. But I want to make it perfectly clear that there is a difference between urgency and anxiety. I'll say it again.
There is a difference between urgency and anxiety.
Anxiety is a worthless emotion. Anxiety interferes with our ability to think creatively. Anxiety causes a change in our brain chemistry, which diverts blood flow from our cerebral cortex, the problem solving part of the brain, and sends it to the brain stem, the basic animal brain, the part of the brain that gets the body ready to fight, or run away. So anxiety is no good, because it starves this beautiful cerebral cortex that God designed for reasoning and creating, and we will need all the reason and creativity we can muster.
What did Jesus say, time and again? “Be not afraid.” Do not be anxious. The signs of the times, the change that is coming, is not something to fear. In the gospel lesson today Jesus says when you see the signs, Look up! Because your redemption is drawing near! Freedom is drawing near! Salvation is drawing near! It’s not the end, it’s the beginning, it’s new life!
Like I said, Jesus changed everything. Jesus changed the way people thought about their religion. That’s why he was always in trouble with the religious authorities, the good, upright and pious people of his day. The Pharisees, the scribes, the leaders of synagogues accused him of being irreligious, because he and his disciples didn’t follow all the traditions. What Jesus taught was that some traditions are not essential. Some traditions, in fact, just get in the way of being in a right relationship with God. The essential tradition is mercy. Jesus said to the Pharisees and scribes, “Go learn what this means, I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” It is mercy, love, and forgiveness that really matter, and the rest is like the chaff that the wind drives away. Let it go. Hold on to mercy, forgiveness, distributive justice, and love.
And be not afraid. There is a future, with God. Behold your redeemer comes! Thanks be to God, for the signs of the times.
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Day the World Changed
When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, as the story goes, most people had no idea that the world was about to change. Day-to-day life continued, as usual. Farmers planted grain, vintners tended vines. The sun set and rose, night and day, the grain grew, the fruit ripened, the harvest came and went, the cycled continued.
And yet… and yet, everything changed. The coming of the Christ changed the world. The one who was born and grew up to be Jesus of Nazareth, who went about doing good, healing people who were ill, feeding people who were hungry, he is the one who “brought down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” The movement leader who sent his followers into the world to proclaim the good news of God’s forgiving love, and to teach people that love is the fulfillment of God’s law, he is the one through whom we know the salvation of God. This man, who disarmed the disciple who was ready to fight for him, who did not lift a hand in self-defense, even as he was taken away to his death, he is the one who, throughout the ages, has been lauded as the Prince of Peace.
Everything changed. Only a few perceived it. Mary, Zechariah, Simeon and Anna, these are the few who, like human Richter scales, felt the earth move, and their songs are recorded in the gospel according to Luke.
The world is changing. At the dawn of this third millennium of Christianity, the world is changing. Though the rhythm of life remains essentially the same-- we wake, we work, we love, we eat, we sleep—the world in which we live is shifting tectonically. What does this mean for us? How does this change affect the way we see ourselves, and God, and our church in relation to God’s mission in the world?
And yet… and yet, everything changed. The coming of the Christ changed the world. The one who was born and grew up to be Jesus of Nazareth, who went about doing good, healing people who were ill, feeding people who were hungry, he is the one who “brought down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” The movement leader who sent his followers into the world to proclaim the good news of God’s forgiving love, and to teach people that love is the fulfillment of God’s law, he is the one through whom we know the salvation of God. This man, who disarmed the disciple who was ready to fight for him, who did not lift a hand in self-defense, even as he was taken away to his death, he is the one who, throughout the ages, has been lauded as the Prince of Peace.
Everything changed. Only a few perceived it. Mary, Zechariah, Simeon and Anna, these are the few who, like human Richter scales, felt the earth move, and their songs are recorded in the gospel according to Luke.
The world is changing. At the dawn of this third millennium of Christianity, the world is changing. Though the rhythm of life remains essentially the same-- we wake, we work, we love, we eat, we sleep—the world in which we live is shifting tectonically. What does this mean for us? How does this change affect the way we see ourselves, and God, and our church in relation to God’s mission in the world?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Bending Toward Justice
Every year at this time, as we near the end of the church year, we read from the texts associated with end-times in general. The church year begins in Advent, 4 weeks before Christmas, and ends in November, and so November brings us the poetry of the end times, which seems particularly appropriate here in the northern latitudes.
In the Hebrew scriptures, which were the scriptures of the early church, the "end times" never signifies the end of the world. That would be unthinkable. The world God made is infinite and eternal, as God is. There is the story of the great flood, but the point of that story is that God promised there would be no do-overs. No more destruction. And God put the arc of the rainbow in the sky as a sign of peace, a sign of the promise never to destroy the earth, ever again.
So what the end times, or the day of the Lord, or the Messiah’s coming would mean to Jews like Jesus, is that the day would come when finally, evil would be punished, and good rewarded, and justice would roll and righteousness flow.
The end of suffering, the beginning of salvation. The end of hunger, the beginning of a feast.
So the end times which were announced by prophets and Jesus, these are not about the destruction of the earth, but about right-relationships restored on the earth. Not by bloody battle, but by the only thing which can restore relationship: love, repentance, and forgiveness.
I begin with this clarification because there seems to be renewed interest, in popular culture, in the end of the world. The violent vision of the destruction of the world seems to come in cycles, and gain special momentum in what we call “hard times.” It happened early enough in the life of the church to warrant a special mention in the gospel.
Just before the gospel of Jesus Christ was written down in the form that we now recognize as the Gospel according to Mark, Jerusalem was besieged by Rome, and the temple was destroyed. Marauding legions carried away everything that was valuable, burned what they couldn’t carry, and pulled down the walls, so that not one stone was left standing atop another. Over one million citizens were killed in the siege.
Let the reader understand, and the reader would understand—the destruction of the temple does not mean the end has come. Every generation since has suffered wars and disease and lamentable tragedies of its own kind, and some have said, this is it, this is the end… but, look around, here we are. It wasn’t the end after all.
The apostle Paul and Jesus (according to the gospel) said these are just the birth pangs. Birth pangs, not death throes. New life is coming.
“The universe is bending,” is a song from our new UCC book, “Sing!” The universe is bending toward justice, toward peace, toward righteousness. It may not look like it from one particular point in history, but from a God’s eye view, the whole span of history must arc like a rainbow. From creation, to conflict, to new creation, that is our story in a nutshell. God creates a world and declares it good. Then bad things happen. Evil triumphs over good, for a time. The righteous seem to be forsaken, for a time. The innocent suffer and the wicked thrive, for a time, but these are just the birth pangs. For eventually, we are promised, a new heaven, and a new earth, on this earth. And God will be with us and be our God. No one will have to say to another, “know the Lord.” For God will live right here with us, and wipe away every tear from our eye.
And in the meantime, we live in hope, we live in the hope of those who know that the victory is won, though violence persists. We are healed, though relapse may come. These are but the birth pangs. New life is begun. Thanks be to God. Amen.
In the Hebrew scriptures, which were the scriptures of the early church, the "end times" never signifies the end of the world. That would be unthinkable. The world God made is infinite and eternal, as God is. There is the story of the great flood, but the point of that story is that God promised there would be no do-overs. No more destruction. And God put the arc of the rainbow in the sky as a sign of peace, a sign of the promise never to destroy the earth, ever again.
So what the end times, or the day of the Lord, or the Messiah’s coming would mean to Jews like Jesus, is that the day would come when finally, evil would be punished, and good rewarded, and justice would roll and righteousness flow.
The end of suffering, the beginning of salvation. The end of hunger, the beginning of a feast.
So the end times which were announced by prophets and Jesus, these are not about the destruction of the earth, but about right-relationships restored on the earth. Not by bloody battle, but by the only thing which can restore relationship: love, repentance, and forgiveness.
I begin with this clarification because there seems to be renewed interest, in popular culture, in the end of the world. The violent vision of the destruction of the world seems to come in cycles, and gain special momentum in what we call “hard times.” It happened early enough in the life of the church to warrant a special mention in the gospel.
Just before the gospel of Jesus Christ was written down in the form that we now recognize as the Gospel according to Mark, Jerusalem was besieged by Rome, and the temple was destroyed. Marauding legions carried away everything that was valuable, burned what they couldn’t carry, and pulled down the walls, so that not one stone was left standing atop another. Over one million citizens were killed in the siege.
Let the reader understand, and the reader would understand—the destruction of the temple does not mean the end has come. Every generation since has suffered wars and disease and lamentable tragedies of its own kind, and some have said, this is it, this is the end… but, look around, here we are. It wasn’t the end after all.
The apostle Paul and Jesus (according to the gospel) said these are just the birth pangs. Birth pangs, not death throes. New life is coming.
“The universe is bending,” is a song from our new UCC book, “Sing!” The universe is bending toward justice, toward peace, toward righteousness. It may not look like it from one particular point in history, but from a God’s eye view, the whole span of history must arc like a rainbow. From creation, to conflict, to new creation, that is our story in a nutshell. God creates a world and declares it good. Then bad things happen. Evil triumphs over good, for a time. The righteous seem to be forsaken, for a time. The innocent suffer and the wicked thrive, for a time, but these are just the birth pangs. For eventually, we are promised, a new heaven, and a new earth, on this earth. And God will be with us and be our God. No one will have to say to another, “know the Lord.” For God will live right here with us, and wipe away every tear from our eye.
And in the meantime, we live in hope, we live in the hope of those who know that the victory is won, though violence persists. We are healed, though relapse may come. These are but the birth pangs. New life is begun. Thanks be to God. Amen.
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