Oh, the taste of compromise

Bittersweet...Isn't that how they describe it?

America is an interesting place to live--an experiment in which people with opposing views can live peaceably together. The conception was, and continues to be, bold and exciting. But the actual ways in which this works out can be spooky and nauseating.

Consider the recent controversy over choosing Rick Warren to offer the opening prayer at the Inauguration for the new president. The left is galled by the thought of someone who is openly judgmental of gays and lesbians commencing the era of an inclusive leader. The right is no doubt wondering about the motivation behind the decision.

Is this what Jefferson had in mind? Remember the idea of democracy? Open and honest dialogue even among the most divergent opinions. But it turns out that this kind of thing takes a lot of time. It's usually messy. And people seldom change their minds, even when the opposing argument makes better sense. So, it's expedient compromise... politics over persuasion, coalition over conscience, victory over value...

So then? What is the real meaning in all this? Was it simply inevitable that the rising star of the secular world would choose the rising star of the religious world to solemnize the occasion? Or is it more a symbolic statement? A glimpse of the future wrapped in an obvious compromise. Most of us are warming to the reality of sacrifice and it looks like no one is going to get out of this unscathed. So who better to usher in the season of change than the prophet of purpose?

A half-win? Almost certainly, and all the way around. But given the circumstances, it's probably not so bad. Now if we can just get used to the taste.

What goes around...

Despite what some would like to believe, the Bible is not always consistent. In fact, it is sometimes in conversation with itself. Or rather, one writer is looking at a particular question in one way; while another writer is seeing or emphasizing something else. This does not mean that the Bible is unreliable. It rather means that life on earth is sometimes complex. There is more going on than our minds can comprehend. Or to use the language of the Bible itself, "God's ways are not our ways."

Take for example, the matter of justice. We read a great deal about justice in the Bible. Some of it is straightforward and serves as a healthy warning: You shall not... And if you do... This is commonly associated with the book of Leviticus. The Levites were the tribe of Israel chiefly responsible for the temple and the priestly activities of the nation. This Priestly Tradition is also responsible for the more defined laws of the Hebrew Scriptures--the specific consequences for particular infractions. Things like, what you can expect should your oxen gore someone in the community...

It is probably out of this Priestly Tradtion that one of the prominent theologies of justice emerged--the notion that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. This is a very strong tradition that is still with us today. In a sense, it is the rationale for our own system of law. And much like ancient Israel, it applies well enough for us to accept it as true... If you do good things, good things will happen to you...If you do bad things, bad things will happen to you. Essentially, the argument is that suffering is directly related to sin.

Yet, while this may be true and seems to apply well enough for us to accept it, it is not a perfect model. Sometimes justice is a bit more elusive...sin a bit more complicated. This is the side taken by what is often called the Wisdom Tradition. The book of Job, for example, challenges the suggestion that suffering is simply a matter of sin. Ecclesiastes seems to reject the connection altogether suggesting rather that suffering might be just a matter of ignorance and luck. And just like we see evidence supporting the Priestly Tradition, we also see evidence supporting the Wisdom Tradition. We've seen the good suffer under the rule of evil and we've seen evil prosper under the rule of the good.

So here is the dilemma. We can see both sides, can't we? We know that sin can definitely invite suffering--in any number of ways. But we also can see that just because a person is suffering does not necessarily mean that he/she deserves it.

So what can we do? How do we live as faithful people--knowing that sin is real and destructive and yet also understanding that innocent people do suffer? I suggest two things: First we are wise to know and remember the story of Jesus. His story is, I think, an important window into God's justice. The way that he dealt with people, especially sinners, suggests that God might be more interested in repentance than blood. In the same way, his death is by all measures a miscarriage of justice. And yet, it is overcome by God's capacity to bring good out of evil. In other words, God is the final judge--even though we may not be able to see it in the present. The Resurrection is a glimpse into the justice of God. Justice is not lost but it might come in a way that we are not expecting.

This brings us to the second thing to remember. We are all in this together...but... We are all sinners to one degree or another. But those degrees are not insignificant. Those who would have us believe that all sin is the same are perhaps trying to excuse themselves from some urgent matter of restitution that God is working on.

There is an interesting story in Genesis 18. It comes just after God has reiterated his promise to Abraham. The Lord is on his way to destroy the city of Sodom for its wickedness. Initially, the Lord wants to hide Abraham from the darker side of his work but ultimately a conversation emerges--primarily out of Abraham's concern for any decent people who might be living in the city. The conversation is about justice and the suffering of the innocent. I encourage you to read the story yourself but basically it is a question of whether or not God will spare the many for the sake of the righteousness of the few. This is an important question and an important reminder that though we are all sinners, there are distinctions.

It is important for us to see the wheel turn from time to time. It reminds us that we live in a world where God is still paying attention.

We are all sinners but there is also that matter of justice--especially for the innocent and for those who have sought to do right when others were doing ill. As we watch the good suffering along with the wicked, we should be praying for them. Not only for the sake of justice but also for the sake of mercy.

The Pain of Some Else's Joy

When I went to college, I was assigned to a dorm room with three roommates. Two of these joined a fraternity within the first two weeks of school so I was able to enjoy a relatively large suite with just one other person. His name was Mike.

Mike was from a small rural community in the Southwestern part of the state of Iowa. He had a sister and played football. He had a decent sense of humor and was actually the valedictorian of his graduating class. All in all, Mike was a good, randomly assigned roommate. While he was not my closest friend at college, we did a lot together and by and large got along quite well--except for one thing.

As the year progressed, I began to notice that Mike had a terribly hard time celebrating anything good that might happen to somebody else. Worse yet, there was a disturbing joy that came upon him when bad things would happen to others, especially me.

I had never seen anything quite like it. Mike's emotional state seemed to be inversely related to the people around him. Generally, he was low key and not particularly responsive. He could sit through an entire meal without saying a word. However, if I entered the room with a broken arm or even a particularly poor grade, it was like party-time for this guy. Although I have yet to meet anyone else who's joy was quite so dependent upon the misfortune of others, I have encountered lesser degrees of this affliction. I cannot really explain it, although I am sure that it is more common than I realize.

It turned out that Mike flunked out of his freshman year of college. It wasn't because he couldn't do the work. He was, after all, the valedictorian of his high school class. It was rather that as the year wore on, Mike spent more and more time in our dorm room and less and less time attending class. I would come home from the library or from watching MASH in the commons and Mike would be sitting at his desk drinking a six-pack all by himself.

I honestly felt bad for him. I did not find the joy in his suffering that he seemed to find in mine. But ultimately I could not break through. I heard that he transferred to another school and I am sure that he eventually graduated. I hope that he is doing well. I hope that he is still alive.

We still hear that ongoing debate--do we live in a world of scarcity or a world of abundance? Is there enough for all? Or does it really come down to us or them... yours or mine...

My experience that year in the dorm taught me something about myself. I've got all kinds of weaknesses for sure but I just can't bring myself to celebrate misfortune. I just can't believe that God has created a world where there is only so much blessing to go around.

Parable of the Kingdom on the road to Disney

There once was a kingdom not far from Interstate 95 on the way to Orlando.

It was a beautiful land with many beautiful people who enjoyed many blessings. Everyone loved the king because of their blessings. Then one day a fire appeared in the kingdom and scarred some of the land. No one was hurt but the fire did burn away some of the vegetation. It turned out it was mostly just poison ivy and kudzu but it still irked some of the people because the landscape no longer looked the same.

No one really knew who or what actually started the fire. Though the kingdom remained very beautiful and the people continued to be blessed, an angry spirit came upon them. They began to accuse one another and even the king of starting the fire. And they refused to venture near the spot that had been burned.

Meanwhile, signs of life began to appear in the burnt spot. Hardwoods, evergreens and wildflowers began to break through the earth as did a plush green carpet of new wheat that characterized the rest of the kingdom. But of course no one was there to see it.

Then one day a minivan pulled off the Interstate and happened upon the kingdom. It was filled with just a handful of castaways on their way to Disney World. Seeing the explosion of life in the spot that had burned, they left off their plans and decided to camp right there in the emerging vegetation. Finding themselves blessed in new and remarkable ways, they decided to make the place their home. But of course no one was there to see it.

Years went by and more minivans broke down and more castaways joined the community. The spot that had once been only poison ivy and kudzu was now a thriving community living among the new wheat. But of course no one was there to see it.

Meanwhile the rest of the kingdom continued to discuss the matter of the fire—who had caused it and how it had so ruined the landscape. Until one day, the decision was made to send a group back to the site to access the damage that had been done all those years ago. No one wanted to go. So the entire kingdom was forced to participate in a lottery—every family was given a number and all the numbers were placed in a sugar bowl.

Lo and Behold the number that was drawn was that of the king and his family. Many people believed that this was in fact a sign of his guilt so his family was shoved into a minivan with a week’s supply of food and sent off to assess the damage of the area that had been burned.

The minivan never returned.

(This also appears as "A Parable of Advent" in the December Newsletter.)

Strength in Weakness

The hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each one to his home, and you will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone because the Father is with me. ³³I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!’ (John 16:32-33)

O.K., this one is overtly and apologetically Christian.

The market goes up for a day or two and then tumbles for the next three in a row. The U.S. is still entangled in two distant wars. The auto industry is teetering on collapse and the creative solution is to throw money at it. Jobs are being lost and hearts are growing weary. It's gloom and doom everywhere we turn. Of course all this bad news is good news for the media. Nothing sells and thrives like fear, evil and blood.

I remember reading Neil Postman's, Amusing Ourselves to Death. The book is an insightful look at how television has come to dominate our lives. But I think today of something that Postman points out very early in the book relating not to the television but the telegraph. He suggests that the telegraph imposed information upon us that we didn't even ask for and that it changed the way that we gain knowledge. “To the telegraph, intelligence meant knowing lots of things, not knowing about them” (69-70). Postman points out that photography, which appeared at about the same time, fit well with the telegraph's “news from nowhere” and provided an illusion of context for the unknown names and places that we suddenly had to deal with. The television is now a super-telegraph imposing a limitless stream of information and images--all of which are well beyond our neighborhood and influence.

The overwhelming experience of all this is futility. The more we see, the more we are reminded of our weakness in the world. This is because the world is no longer a neighborhood or a city. It is literally The World. And the constant stream of images pouring into our minds demands that we deal with it.

Postman's book was initially published in 1985. This is now a very long time ago--at least in terms of the entertainment industry and the rise of electronic media. It seems fair to say that we are not going to escape from the super-telegraph and all of its dark power over us. It is the loudest voice in the world. And because bad news sells so much better than good news, we can expect to be hearing about our weakness for as long as we walk this dusty planet.

As depressing as this might be (and it is depressing), there is a great hope in the midst of all this. The Christian message is a consistent affirmation that there is strength in weakness. Of course, we see it in the story of Jesus and we hear it in the preaching of Paul but it is also a consistent refrain that extends all the way back to the beginning of our story. Futility was familiar to Abraham and Sarah, Moses, Jeremiah, Hannah, David and pretty much all of the Biblical characters. Yet, these people were not overcome by the forces that threatened them. Whether it is Moses before Pharaoh or Jesus before Pilate, there is a consistent insistence that the appearance of strength is really only that. True power comes from someplace other than The World.

This is the thing that we want to cling to in these dark and stormy days. Who knows, maybe they're not even that dark and stormy but even if they are...Remember, it's just The World.

Behind the Curve

I remember people saying how great the 80's were. They called it the decade of decadence. Whenever we see footage from the era, it looks like everyone is having a great time. But I actually remember quite the opposite. I remember suffering through what seemed to me as an era of ignorance. Everything seemed so shallow--the music, the culture, the politics. It was depressing.

Then came the 1990's--flannel shirts, long and greasy hair, angry kids...The world seemed to be a much more sobering place. But I felt much better! I loved the 1990's--even though I spent most of the decade raising kids and probably missed a lot, it just seemed a better time... more honest and less urgent.

As for the last 8 years, pay your money and take your choice. I am sure that there are some who feel that things have been great; while others feel just the opposite. I don't know what any of this means except perhaps to support the old adage, "You can please some of the people some of the time but you can't please all of the people all of the time..."

Now that the onslaught of campaigning is over and we know that some kind of change is on the horizon, I wonder how people are feeling. The day after the election, it was clear that there was a lot of excitement in the air. But now that the news has shifted back to things like global recession and wide-spread unemployment, it seems that the enthusiasm is a bit more tempered.

My sense is that we probably have no idea what is around the corner. It may be that everything we have been worrying about has now come and gone and we are just waiting for the smoke to clear away. Or it may be that what we have been witnessing is only the tip of a much larger iceberg--although I certainly hope this is not the case.

The intellectual in me wants to hold back, wait and see...but there is also something that tells me that life is too short to be waiting until we know its safe to go outside. Besides, I have no sense of timing anyway. I am usually depressed at parties and my best years have come when everyone else was whining.

Loyalties

Last night I was flipping through the channels and came across "All The Presidents Men," the 1976 film adaptation of the Washington Post's coverage of the Watergate scandal. The film reminded me that there was once a time when people in movies actually looked and behaved like people in the real world. Today it's mostly about perfect bodies doing super human things.

The film suggests that Woodward and Bernstein had to interview dozens of average folk to get even the slightest information on what had really gone on behind the scenes. Most of the time, they had doors slammed in their face. But on the few occasions when they actually found someone who was willing to talk to them, the interview was surprising. Far from haughty conspirators trying to win at all cost, these were largely goodhearted men and women who found themselves a part of something that just didn't sit right with them. They were simply caught up in the machinery.

Although these people were saddened, even sicked, by the some of the activities they had been associated with; they were equally sicked by the prospect of ratting out their superiors. At one point, Woodward and Bernstein are interviewing a woman. Here is the section from the screenplay:

A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN--kind of an honest, hard-working face.

WOODWARD and BERNSTEIN are standing in her doorway.

WOODWARD
A friend at the Committee told us to contact you--

WOMAN
--who was it?

BERNSTEIN
We never reveal our sources, which is why you can talk to us.

WOODWARD
It's safe, try it, you'll see.

[She doesn't talk at first, but she doesn't slam the door either.]

BERNSTEIN
We understand your problem--

WOODWARD
--you believe in the President, you wouldn't ever want to do anything disloyal.

BERNSTEIN
We appreciate your position--really.

[And now she starts, at last, to talk, and they expect it to be their first breakthrough, but when it turns out to be the most withering onslaught yet, they are stunned.]

WOMAN
You people--you think that you can come into someone's life, squeeze what you want, then get out.(to BERNSTEIN) You don't appreciate a goddamn thing, mister. (to WOODWARD) And you don't understand nothing. (voice rising) But the Committee's briefed us on you--so get the hell out of here-- (big) --do you like scaring the life out decent people?--'cause if you don't, in the name of God--stop it!

[And she slams the door--]

From http://www.dailyscript.com/scripts/all_the_presidents_men.html

The woman knows that her loyalties are suspect but she also knows that the same is true for the reporters. Even though they imagine themselves to be on a righteous crusade, there is also a degree of self-deception and dirt about it. At times, the reporters reflect the same win-at-all-cost ambitious that we see in the Watergate villains.

This is tough stuff. Loyalty is a character trait. It is a good thing to stand by your friends and your values. And the fact is, it is not always easy to find such things. But at the same time, this can turn out to be our end. Sometimes we find ourselves choosing between our loyalties and our conscience. This is no easy thing.

Shortcuts

I was recently talking with a friend who does a lot of flying. He works in another city and typically takes the same flight out on Monday of each week. He told me about a woman who tries and very often succeeds in cutting in the line at the check-in counter. This is not middle school, mind you. This is Charlotte-Douglas International Airport and these are grown men and women. Apparently, the woman has a clever shtick in which she sort of moves up near the front and strikes up a conversation about the weather or the commute or whatever and then just sort of works her way into the line.

At one point, she tried this with my friend. He stopped her con mid-sentence and said to her, "Look, I know what you're doing. I see you do it every week. If you want to cut in front of me, that's o.k. but you gotta ask every one of those people behind me first." My friend still sees this woman on Mondays and she still very often works her dark magic--just not directly in front of him.

I enjoy hiking in the mountains of the West. The Rockies are steep. So in order to cover the elevation, trails often work back and forth up the front face of the mountain. These are aptly called "switchbacks." Switchbacks work well but they can become pretty monotonous. After a while, hikers sort of anticipate what's coming. They know the trail will switch-back and continue directly above them so it is tempting to just cut the corners and scramble up the side of the mountain in one place or the next.

Once a few people start doing this, it kills whatever vegetation might have been living there, creates a scar on the side of the mountain and initiates the process of erosion. The rangers put up signs to this effect but there are always people who just can't resist the allure of a shortcut. Of course, scrambling up or down a mountain can sometimes hurt more than the vegetation and scenery.

The Grand Canyon is an incredible place to hike but it does not lend well to shortcuts. Since 1870, roughly 600 people have died in the Grand Canyon. Some of these people have fallen; others have given way to the harsh climate; others have merely wandered off the trail. The danger is real and you need to pay attention but if you do, it is a very rewarding place to hike. You can even hike all the way down and out of the canyon in one day, although it is quite a challenge. If you do this, you will be walking on trails that have been around for hundreds--maybe thousands--of years, established by people that are long gone. These are people who had to regularly hike into the canyon for things like food and water. They had plenty of time to learn what works and what doesn't and why it is sometimes better to take a little more time.

Get Out!

During the run up on gasoline prices, the thing that has been most challenging to me is travel. Not traveling from point A to B but trips to the places I want to reach beyond the city. Living in Charlotte means that we're fairly close to just about anywhere. The mountains are only a couple of hours away. The beach is an hour or two further. And if things get really crazy, most of us can get to Charlotte-Douglas International in about twenty minutes. Not that I ever actually just dropped everything to scurry off to the airport even when flights were cheap. But I found comfort in the option should it come to that.

The cost to fly is still pretty prohibitive but I see that gas prices are coming down again--at least nationally. Here in Charlotte, we are still recovering from the hurricanes in the gulf. In fact, I haven't even seen a station with premium fuel for over a month. But that will all catch up and hopefully we will benefit from a diminishing demand curve like everyone else.

Of course, it's a little ironic that clearing our minds and refreshing our spirits would be dependent on the price of gas. It's actually kind of scary to think about--burning fossil fuel just to get some fresh air...

But it does feel that way sometimes. It seems that the only excuse we can find to even go outside is to go someplace far away. It actually takes some imagination and discipline to think about mind clearing and spirit refreshing options that might be just outside our doors.

But I suspect it's worth it. In fact, I think our health and sanity in some ways depend upon it. We need to get outside. If even for a bike ride to a nearby park or a walk to the closest coffee shop. The world looks different when we're not looking at it through a computer screen (hmmm). Time feels different as well.

If we want to get a sense of this, here's an experiment to try. Pick a safe mile or so near the house and drive it at the posted speed limit looking around as we drive. Then go back to the house, park the car and walk that same mile. We will be surprised not only by what we see but by how we feel about it. Insects, old candy wrappers, the way a heavy truck lays a track in the Carolina mud--things that we would never dream could hold our attention somehow become interesting....And even if they don't, we'll still be getting some exercise and breathing some air that didn't just come out of some else's mouth.

Bye the way, above is a shot from Zion National Park. I was hiking with friends last Spring. It was the weekend that Carolina got pummeled by Kansas in the NCAA semi-final. Still found time to see that though. Go Duke!

When It's Your Turn

I recently had a conversation with a friend who has been going through a difficult stretch. Actually, he has been going through about a sixteen month stretch. And although it has been his own cross to bear, he has been willing to share some of the what this has been like with me. This is a precarious thing. On the one hand, I am pleased to be a sounding board for my friend. But on the other hand, sixteen months is a long time. It is difficult to see someone you care about in the midst of a fiery trial.

Listening to the trials and tribulations of someone else is very different than living them yourself. During our last conversation, this became more clear than ever. I could tell that my friend had been keeping on for a long time. And to be honest, he really wasn't showing any signs of defeat but I am sure that the people around him are getting a little weary. Not people like me, who simply get to share in the journey from a distance but the people closest to him, especially his family.

There are some roads in this life that we have to walk alone. I am not sure whether or not everyone has to do this at one point or another but I do know that at least some of us do. Perhaps sometimes this is just part and parcel to life in the world. We find ourselves in a transitional period and there just isn't anyone else around to help us carry the load. But sometimes it is more than this. Sometimes we find ourselves smack dab in the middle of a spiritual journey in which we are forced to battle the elements and the demons all by ourselves.

Native American spirituality refers to this as a Vision Quest. It is considered a critical time in which one encounters the spirit world and comes to know his or her life path. In Christian spirituality, this is often called a trial or test. It is a sojourn in the spiritual wilderness. It is a time in which the believer learns to trust God in a much more pronounced way. Facing the challenges with nothing more than faith forges our hearts and makes us ready for whatever it is that God has in store for our lives.

I had my primary wilderness experience many years ago. It was not something that I was looking for and it was not enjoyable. But now, so many years later, I see this difficult period of my life as an indispensable gift.

Of course, right? Journeys always make sense AFTER they're over and we are safely on the other side. During that most recent conversation with my friend, I kept thinking about my own experience. The more he told me, the more sure I was sure that he was on a Vision Quest. And no matter how much I might have liked to give him a map or offer him a shortcut, I knew that it was not for me to do.

You see, it is his time. It is his turn. I can be there as a friend and as a fellow journeyman but whatever God is doing in this man's life and whatever God might have planned--these things are between God and my friend. In other words, all evidence to the contrary, this is holy space. God is forging this man's future.

Side effects

Earlier this week I spent the noon hour playing basketball. I caught up with a group of guys that I used to play with regularly. I was a step slow and a bit out of shape. This was frustrating but understandable given how little I have played lately. Of course, most of the guys had not taken the time off so they were conditioned and enthusiastic about the competition.

In the midst of this, I found myself in a conflict with the guy that was guarding me. I got knocked down a couple of times and the frustration started working on my composure. I ended up saying some things that were regrettable to say the least. Part of this was due to getting knocked to the floor by a guy who was playing a curious style of defense. Even so, my comments were inexcusable.

The experience put a sour tasted in my mouth that lasted the day. I had gone to enjoy the company of friends and get some physical exercise but it turned out to be more an exercise in how to ruin your day. As I drove home, I really couldn't even explain why I lost my composure. I knew the guys I was playing with. I knew that some of them had some annoying habits that got on my nerves from time to time. I really had no reason to let it get to me like it did. When I went to bed that night, I was still bothered. I thought about getting up and phoning in an apology for my actions but I it was eleven 0'clock so I decided it could wait until the next day.

The following day, my wife told me about a study that had looked into how the economic downturn is impacting our health. Initially, I greeted her news with my usual suspicion. Of course, someone's out there doing a study on something like this. But then I remembered my actions from the day before. Not that I would attribute acting like an ass to the decline in the stock market but I think that there probably is a more general connection.

We have lots of things going on in our lives. We have lots of people to deal with on a daily basis. There are any number of factors that are capable of sabotaging our spirits on any given day. There is really no getting around this. And there are certainly many things well beyond our control. But at the same time, knowing this or anticipating how these things might work on us might help us keep them from creeping into places where they don't belong.

I was recently asked by a person in the parish to speak to issue of "staying in love with God." I was a little intimidated by the question, especially because it came during the same week as this story that I just shared. Following is my response to the question.

Love is a word that gets tossed about a good bit in our society—sometimes too casually, sometimes too seriously. When I think of staying in love with God, I think of maintaining an appropriate posture of gratitude and wonder. I think we need to work at this much like we need to work at our marriages. It is very easy to take for granted the people who are the closest to us. This is really abusive but it is common. It is just easy to take our spouses for granted because we expect them to always be there. I sense that it is the same with God. Take giving for example, many people pay God last. That is, they figure out their offering after they have paid their bills, taxes, IRA and even their credit cards. God gets not the first fruits but some percentage of the leftovers. Imagine being treated this way by your husband or your wife—and sometimes we are. That is, at the end of the day we get whatever is left and it is often not all that much.

So I think staying in love with God means attending to God first. Maybe this means just a small prayer at the beginning and the end of the day. Maybe it means giving something of ourselves when we would really like to just take a nap. The book of Micah has a very revealing reference to our relationship with God. Basically, the prophet asks, “what does God want from us?” Another way of putting this might be “How can we best love God?” Here is the reading:

6‘With what shall I come before the Lord,
and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings,
with calves a year old?
7Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
with tens of thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?’
8He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:6-8)

In other words, the measure of our love for God is very much tied to the way that we treat other people. Jesus makes a similar point when he asks the lawyer about the greatest commandment. The writer of 1 John puts it this way:

We love because he first loved us. 20Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. 21The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also. (1 John 4:19-21)

So one of the ways that we stay in love with God is by trying to maintain authentic and peaceful relations with the people around us. Sometimes we don’t feel caring and peaceful. This is normal and o.k. to a degree but after a while we usually start feeling pretty lousy inside and it is hard to pray when all you can think about is some stupid thing you said to somebody that day. So if we are paying attention, we can try to right that wrong and I think that this, in turn, helps honor our love for God

Rain

Religion can be a magnet for extremism. Not only the kind we read about in the paper but really all kinds of human expressions of strong feelings or opinions. The splintering of the Church into a myriad of denominations has not helped this much. Because we generally associate ourselves with people who think a lot like we do, it is easy to walk away from communions that do not consistently reinforce our most cherished beliefs.

While there is a degree of common sense here--it makes sense to worship in an environment where you feel comfortable and you enjoy the company--it can be potentially dangerous as well. If we surround ourselves only with people who think like we do, then we are more susceptible to self-deception. Purposely avoiding other visions or even other emphases can lead us to an irrational intolerance of those who hold them.

This is true of anything but it seems particularly true when it comes to religious conviction. By definition, religion reflects our strongest feelings and opinions. When God's name gets associated with strong feelings and opinions, the neighborhood can become a potentially explosive place. In other words, there is no extremism like religious extremism.

Now chances are, if you have read this much, you are already fashioning images in your mind about what I am writing about here. And while those images might well be fitting, I actually want to take this in a slightly different direction.

When I first entered the ministry, I remember having a conversation with a friend of mine. He was also a pastor but he was about ten years older than I and had been in the ministry for that many years longer. We were talking about the environment and the pressure that 5 or 6 billion people are now putting upon it.

I made a statement about some of the irreparable damage that humans have done through strip mining, oil spills and the like. I was speaking passionately--partly because I felt strongly about what I was saying but also because I assumed that he would agree with me. But to my surprise, my friend did not jump in to fuel the fires of my passion. He rather spoke a word of temperance--offering me an alternative perspective to my religious diatribe.
He said, "The earth has been around for a long time. It's pretty resilient and it's been through a lot worse than us. I think it has a greater capacity to heal itself than we realize."

I was taken back. I was surprised that my friend did not agree with me. But I was even more surprised by the fact that he felt no need to support what I was saying. Of course, the truth was that my claim was probably over-zealous and probably self-righteous. It might have otherwise hurt my feelings except for the fact that there was great wisdom to what he was saying. His comment did not necessarily change my feelings--I still find myself passionate when it comes to our brazen disrespect for the environment. But at the same time, I now can see a little better my own arrogance in all of this. The earth is probably far more capable of taking care of itself then many of us give it credit for.

A year ago, Charlotte had just finished one of the driest summers in recent memory. We were under water restrictions and we were reading that the city of Atlanta was even worse off. Remember the alarms--all the apocalyptic imagery about what it would be like if a city the size of Atlanta was suddenly without water? Remember the blame game between Atlanta and the state of Florida? That was last year and that same drought continued throughout this past year well into the early summer.

But eventually it started to rain. And it has actually rained quite a lot. We're still not entirely caught up. But it's close. In the past month, we have had a lot of rain and it looks like we will be back to normal soon enough.

Banking in Sarajevo

Oh what a week. I have been in the ministry 19 years. I preached the Sundays following the start of The Gulf War, 911 and The Iraq War. I have spoken at many funerals, some of which were very difficult. But I don't think I have ever been as anxious about my words as I am today. I suspect the reason for this is that the economic meltdown that we have been experiencing over the last year or so is not some distant disaster that we get to safely watch on T.V. This is happening right here and the present and future impact is likely to reach us all.

Charlotte is the home to both Bank of America and Wachovia. [My spellchecker is telling me this isn't a word. I hope it's wrong...] Banking has always been a mystery to me. But judging by the houses around here, it must be a lucrative mystery. When I was growing up in Clear Lake, Iowa, there were four banks in our town of 7,000 permanent residents. Of these, I think only one still carries the same name. It is Clear Lake Bank and Trust. As a kid, I learned that the bank was "owned" buy one of the prominent families in our town. I always thought this must be a mistake. How could anyone own a whole bank? Years later, I moved to the High Country of North Carolina and watched three or four brand new banks being built at the same time. This was in addition to the five or six that we already had. Each of the buildings were nicer than most all of the other buildings in Boone. I often wondered where they got the money to build them. Did they borrow it from themselves?

Most recently, I have noticed that people don't much work in banks anymore. They work in banking. If I go to the bank closest to my house, I have to wait for a long time in a single line while one or maybe two agents work the counter and the drive through at the same time. Meanwhile, many many people who live in Charlotte work in what is called "the banking industry." These are the people that I care about because I have actually met some of them and I know them by name. I don't want them to lose their jobs.

I understand that people outside the United States can purchase stock in publicly-traded U.S. companies. I understand that foreign governments as well as private and public entities within this country have a great deal invested in Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. Things have changed a lot since Clear Lake Bank and Trust was owned by a single family.

You can see now why I am a bit anxious about my words. I just don't know much about what is going and this makes me nervous because I don't know how to help my friends or myself. I noticed the president took a couple of minutes today to tell the American people that he canceled his travel plans to "keep a close watch" on the markets. But I don't even know what that means. Is there something he might be able to do to help my friends here in Charlotte? If so, that would be great because I think helping them would help me too.

Pursuing Threads

I recently drove an hour north to attend a retreat sponsored by the district here in Charlotte. I turned off the main highway, meandered down a winding driveway and arrived at a very peaceful setting in the middle of the woods. I was greeted by a kind woman outside a newish looking farmhouse. The front door opened to a large room with several large windows sponsoring visual access to the woods around the house. There were already a number of other pastors drinking coffee and catching up. They were standing in the midst of twenty or so chairs that circled the living room. This was clearly the central location for the retreat.

Within a short period of time, we all took our seats and the convener began to speak. She spent the first ten minutes or so laying out the ground rules for the house and setting. She was basically reading the bullets from the green sheets that had already been placed on the chairs. After declaring that we needed to wipe our feet upon entering the house and assuring us that it was probably too wet for us to go out anyway even though their were several nice paths that led about the property, the convener turned to the task at hand. She told us that as pastors we were probably very busy people who spent entirely too much time with words. The remedy--the point of the retreat--would therefore be listening...in part, to one another; in part to her; and through all this, in some part to God.

We were told that the purpose of the retreat was to help each of us discover what it was that we are truly thirsting for. "After all," the convener said, "you cannot get filled until you understand what it is that you need." She then made the fatal mistake of giving us (or at least me) an out. She told us that we could choose to participate in this process or not. We could engage in the retreat as it had been so thoughtfully and purposefully planned...or not. "Maybe you will hear something this morning" She boldly proclaimed. "and that will be all that you can handle and you will want to chew on that the rest of the day."

This was the opening I was looking for. I didn't care what I might hear, it was definitely going to be as much as my poor, weak spirit could handle. I would therefore have to be off somewhere else chewing it over for the rest of the day. This seemed a fair enough compromise. I just could not bring myself to imagine anything renewing about spending a retreat inside a house, sitting quiet and still in a circle of strangers. With each passing minute, my straight-back chair further evolved into a torture device. I figured it would be wrong to just get up and leave so I decided that I would stay for the morning session. I wasn't sure where I would go but I knew that it wouldn't be atop one of those chairs.

Apart from the quiet time, the morning session consisted of thrice reading a poem called "The Way It Is." This is not the Bruce Hornsby song of the same name. It is rather a short poem written by William Stafford. I have included it toward the end of my blog.

It turned out that this poem was a gift in the midst of an otherwise uncomfortable and unhelpful event. It spoke to the very thing that was churning inside my stomach. Ah, that's it. I don't want to be here! With all due respect to the convener and those who were excited about the retreat, this was just not my version of spiritual renewal. Wherever it was that I belonged, it was just not in a semi-circle in the middle of a house in the middle of the woods where the most pressing message seemed to be a reminder to wipe my feet.

It's a freeing thing to know ourselves or even something about ourselves. But that freedom is not especially helpful until we are willing to act upon it--to say yes to who we are and say no to who we are not.

It's not that I look down on people who enjoy the kind of thing that I have just described. I just don't want to be someone who pretends to. And so, empowered by Stafford's poem, I left at the break. I tore out a sheet of paper and left a note for anyone who might get anxious over the empty chair. "Please do not be alarmed or bothered if I do not return. I am pursuing a thread."

There’s a thread you follow.
It goes among things that change.
But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

Stafford's poem and the picture above appear together here http://www.panhala.net/Archive/The_Way_It_Is.html

Back On The Road Again

It is time for confirmation here at Saint Francis. As I have been working on the curriculum, lining up the mentors and scheduling the classes, I've been revisiting all the familiar metaphors--the confirmation Journey... The Path to faith... The Great Adventure of the Christian life.

As compelling as these images might sound, I wonder how well they echo the spiritual life of the average Christian in our time? We can perhaps appreciate the suggestion that faith is a journey but an adventure? That's a strong word for people who have been raised on the likes of James Bond and Indiana Jones. Besides, hasn't the Army secured the media rights to that word for the next hundred years?

Of course, I get it. I know why we feel the need to hype. We're trying to reach adolescents. These are kids who can't bring themselves to wait for a song to finish on an IPOD. We figure we've only got one shot at 'em so we pour on the same glamor and hype that they are getting from everywhere else. The problem is that sooner or later these kids are going to discover some of the more sobering aspects of THE JOURNEY.

Adventure does have meaning in the Church but that meaning is different from the militant assaults of personal fulfillment promised by the peddlers of the world. By the time they reach 14, excitement and happiness have been so over-promised to these kids that they might actually be sick of it. Perhaps they're even hungry for something a bit more grounded.

So why not tell them the truth? Why not explain to them that following Jesus is a journey but it is a journey that sometimes leads to very grown up places. After all, part of confirmation is the acknowledgment that these young people are growing up. This is a time of transition for them--a point at which they begin accepting responsibility for their confession of Christ. So why not dispense with all the fanfare and simply tell them the story of Jesus and the Church?

Besides, following Jesus really is a journey. Trying to live a life of faith in a world of disbelief actually is an adventure. Having our lives transformed by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus should probably be enough to get our juices going...even without the hype.

Back to School

Life is cyclical and it works well that way. An interesting example of this is the annual pilgrimages to Target or Staples each August. Kids who three months prior would have pulled their own teeth if it could get them out of even a week of school are now giddy over things like pens and notebook paper. Having forgotten completely the drudgery, students cannot wait to get back to see their friends and find out what's new in the world of schooling.

Even though it seems a little juvenile (imagine that) to get excited about school, there is something refreshing about it as well. School somehow reflects both what is wrong and what is right about the American experiment. It takes so much from our children, especially in terms of freedom and creativity. And yet, it must also give something back as well. Not merely in terms of data and social formation but in terms of the location and identify that it provides. If kids know nothing else, they know school. It is their thing. It is their place in a largely placeless world. Of course, as a pastor, I would prefer that our children's place would be the Church. But while we are working to reclaim such an honor, there are certainly identities worse than school.

Increasingly, we hear discussion of "year round" schooling. The phrase is somewhat misleading because it does not really mean more school. It is rather a reallocation of those other 180 days. The traditional three months of summer vacation do not disappear. They are simply broken up over the course of the entire calendar.

The arguments on either side are generally compelling. Personally, I don't like the idea of doing away with summer vacation but its probably just because it is what I know. And I like the thought of at least a couple of months in which kids don't have to sit still for six hours a day.

If there is anything at stake here beyond mere preference, it might be that renewed look of hope that we see on those faces in Target come August. Somehow, there is a genuine sense of newness spawned by each successive school year. Despite everything that takes place between September and May, all (or at least much) seems forgiven by the time it all starts up again. There is even a sense of anticipation--an incalculable hope that this year things will be different!

We all need this, I think. Room to get over what happened yesterday... Space to re-imagine the world... Time for hope to be reborn. Of course, we know this in the faith. But perhaps the earth itself needs this. Perhaps cycles and seasons are more than simply a way for us to measure time. Sunrise and sunset, plant and harvest, work and rest... Are such things purposely woven into the very fabric of Creation? And might this be for the very purpose of rekindling hope?

Oh The Humanity

On my way to bed last night, I stopped in the living room where my wife was watching coverage of the Olympics. Two commentators were hyping the upcoming 4 X 100 Meter Relay. This is always an exciting event. With four distinct swimmers finishing the race in just over three minutes, it fits well our average attention span. Even people who don't generally enjoy swimming can sit still long enough to watch four men burn 120 calories in an all-out thrashing of the pool. Nevertheless, I went to bed without watching the race. It wasn't that I didn't want to see it. I simply couldn't sift through all the analysis to figure out when exactly the race was going to take place. The last thing I remember was the voice of one of the commentators. "I have calculated this a hundred ways, and it just comes out that this race goes to the French."

I knew what he meant because I used to do this. I never swam competitively but I ran track. On days in which we had meets, I could barely pay attention in class. I was too busy anticipating splits for my friends and I. If we each run a personal best, together we should post a...

Anyway, the commentator's reference to his calculations was a heads up. This was not going to be another Gold for Michael Phelps. This, after all, was what the story had become. It was not that these young men had worked hard enough in their respective art to reach the Olympics, or that they might have a chance to be competitive and maybe even win a medal. The news interest resided in Michael Phelps' outside but conceivable chance of winning his 8th gold medal and thereby setting a new record--not for swimming but medal winning.

I will pass on the easy fare here and simply get to the light in all this.

I woke up to find that despite all preliminary calculations to the contrary, the U.S. ended up beating France by a finger in a race in which five of the eight teams surpassed the previous world record. The race was nothing short of incredible. Every one who swam in it--indeed, everyone who witnessed it--will have a memory to cherish the rest of their lives.

All this, in a little more than three minutes. Of course, we will now have to deal with all the post-race hype. The event will take on mythic proportions and be capitalized until the last penny has been wrung out. But happily that will take a while. Today, it will simply be enjoyed.--a glimpse into what is good about athletic competition and the wonder of the human spirit. People all over the world will talk about those three minutes in a way that truly honors what these young men from these eight different countries had worked for and accomplished over the course of the last several years.

Earlier this summer, I had gone to Florida for a national youth basketball tournament. In addition to seeing a lot of basketball, I enjoyed the conversations that I had with the parents who had gone along. During one conversation, a man was telling me about his experience of seeing Michelangelo's "David." He listed the sculpture as one of the three of four most amazing things he had ever seen in his life. I found this surprising for the man had clearly seen a lot. He went on to explain some of the story behind the work, including the time it took Michelangelo to create it and its remarkable durability. He also explained the rationale behind the creation of the replica of "David" in 1910. He noted the time, technology and attention to detail that went into that work as well. He then told me that while for all practical purposes the works are identical, there is nevertheless something distinctly powerful and majestic about the original. I've yet to see either sculpture. But witnessing the look on this man's face as he was telling me about all this made me want to...

Hats-off to all the men and women who reached the 2008 Olympics. May their effort and the memories they inspire endure our appetites.

Therapeutic Moralistic Deism

A friend of mine recently returned from the Duke Youth Academy for Christian Formation. He was allowed to observe what turned out to be a rather ambitious program. For two weeks over the summer, high school youth from all over the country were brought in to talk about what it means to be the Church. As my friend explained the details, I was amazed by the quality of the event, especially the leadership. Remarkable leaders in art, theology and ethics took the time to sit down with these young people.

"This is a chance of a lifetime really." My friend explained. "These young kids essentially live together for two weeks. They hear inspiring messages and are given the room to ask all kinds of questions. The program allows them a rare opportunity to experience community in a very intensive and meaningful way."

He then went on to explain the challenge. Namely, what happens when the youth return home to share the experience and insights gleaned from their time together?

They encounter something that my friend terms "Therapeutic Moralistic Deism" (quoting Christian Smith, Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers). While we may not generally use these words, I suspect that we are fairly familiar with the meanings behind them.

Therapeutic refers to the self, particularly in regard to helping or healing. The point is that young people today learn to understand God primarily as some kind of personal helper: God is the one who helps me pass the test...God is the one who helps me make the basketball team...

Moralistic refers to the general values that we encounter at every juncture of the society. For many young people, there is nothing unique about Christianity. There is no distinction between Christianity and the general morality of the larger culture--no notable distinction between following Jesus and obeying the rules...God wants me to be a good person...

Deism refers to a belief system that was common during the foundational period of American History. It acknowledges a Creator but rejects the claim that God is as an active agent in the world. The common image for the Deist is a Great Clockmaker. God winds up the world like a clock and then sets it down to run its course: I believe in God but I really can't see God working in the world...

The purpose of the Youth Academy for Christian Formation is to allow high school students to experience Christian community. As they spend time together discussing their faith, the Church and the larger world, they experience God as more than a personal helper or maker of rules. The time together, the friendships and leadership create a space for God to be included in the conversation.

As my friend explained the details, I was struck by the commitment and outlay required to make such an experience even possible. (Thanks God for the Duke Endowment!) Recreating this experience in our own churches sounds like a steep task to be sure. And yet, at the same time, is it really that difficult? Is it really so hard to make room for God in our conversations?

The problem with Therapeutic Moralistic Deism is that it denies God an authentic place in our midst. It repels God's voice in our conversations by imagining that God is either impossibly distant (deism) or overly personal (therapeutic). Part of making God relevant to our lives is acknowledging that God is a living presence distinct from us and yet close to us. Can we imagine God as a distinct but very interested party to our conversations? We live in a fascinating world, God might have some interesting things to say about it.

Or to put it another way, perhaps Christian community is fundamentally organic. Maybe our life together is akin to a living organism of sorts. Living things logically dry up when they cease to be connected to quality (living?) sources of water and nourishment.