Now there's a little known term that seems to be gaining traction these days. I noticed the word appearing in a number of recent economic articles. Unlike inflation that is a reference to currency, deflation seems to be a more expansive term used to define a larger economic trend. While inflation means that your money isn't worth much. Deflation means that most of us don't have any and those of us who might can't seem to do much with it. Inflation sucks buying power out of the hands of individuals. Deflation sucks the life out entire economies.
Where does it come from and how does it happen? If I understand it correctly, it is kind of like an old movie I once saw called, "Fate is the Hunter." [Spoiler Alert! I am about to tell you how the movie ends so stop reading this if you have not seen the 1964 classic...] In the film, a plane crashes. The authorities are not sure why so they blame it on pilot error. An investigator begins looking into the accident, partly because he knows the pilot and his reputation and he does not want to see his friend falsely accused and historically responsible for something so horrible unless there is adequate reasons to do so. Toward the end of the story, the investigator puts together a reenactment in which he is careful to recreate everything leading up to crash. It turns out that a spilled cup of coffee was the critical catalyst setting off a chain of events that led to the loss of many lives.
Deflationary trends in economics seem to be something like this. Something goes wrong. And then something else goes wrong. Pretty soon it feels like everything is going wrong. But the real problem is the overriding response to all this. [And understandably so, when the plane starts to go down, it seems like a reasonable time to panic!] But, of course, as more and more people pull back for fear of a spiraling economy, it becomes something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Things actually begin to get as bad as people are fearing them to be...
Deflation is a dangerous and scary thing and not only for economic systems. Fear can send us scurrying away from everyone and everything--sometimes from the very people and places that might otherwise bring us hope and joy. Don't get me wrong, there is plenty to be concerned about. And for some, there is more than enough reason to pull back from investing and stepping out into a world where things might go wrong. But what happens when we pull back? What happens when more and more people cease to look for the hope and the opportunities? What happens when everyone allows fear or panic to guide their lives?
Remember Mr. Potter? While all of Bedford Falls was slipping into panic, he was just smiling and waiting to pounce. Even George was sweating and very close to giving into his own fear and deflation. But as we are watching, we know what he needs to do. We know that he needs to keep the faith--to keep on keeping on. Right? Because otherwise, Bedford Falls becomes Pottersville.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Oh yeah, Justice
He 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 6:8
I just returned from accompanying the youth on a trip to Washington, D.C. The week prior, our young people had left The Portico to travel about in the inner city of Charlotte. They engaged in a unique ministry that allows participants to see and meet and work directly with some of the poverty missions within the city. At the end of the week, the group boarded a train and headed to D.C. for something called "The United Methodist Seminar."
The seminar takes place at the United Methodist building. The first thing that strikes you about the building is the location. It sits across the street from the US Capitol and a stone's throw from the Supreme Court, offering a bird's eye view on all things moving and shaking. No mistake here. When the United Methodist women bought the land and paid for the building back in 1923, it was a clear statement to the powers that be that they would be watching. And they would be speaking, especially on behalf of those who had little voice in the decisions effecting their lives. And for almost 100 years now, the UM church has sought to be a voice of justice to the powers of this land.
The seminar itself was a take-no-prisoners look at homelessness. The presenters explained how common it is to look upon poverty rather than behind it. With a brief nod to the importance of pity and generosity, our teenagers were quickly told that charity is not enough. The Church needs to be a voice of justice on behalf of the poor. The Church needs to act, to work on the root causes and seek to eradicate the factors that give rise to the conditions that we are so good at feeling bad about.
The focus of the seminar fit well with the sermon that we had heard the day before. At Asbury UMC, we listened as Fred Smith likened our time to the days of the prophet Amos. Citing everything from interest rates to global warming, Fred noted the apocalyptic tones ringing all around us. Like Amos, the preacher denied any confident credentials in the matters of God, simply noting, "I'm just saying..."
For me, the trip was a bit of a trip down memory lane. This was Christianity as I had known at an earlier point in my life. In college, I used to gather with a group of people who would get together specifically to pray about peace and ways to work for nuclear disarmament. During seminary, my roomate volunteered a couple of times a month at the men's shelter in Durham, staying overnight with the homeless men who took refuge there. When I first entered the ministry, I worked with two inner city organizations in Des Moines, Iowa. My closest friends were people that Micah and Amos would have been happy to hang out with. These were pastors who worked in the farm-workers movement and met regularly with city councilmen to make sure the poor had a voice. They seemed to have boundless energy, fighting for every justice issue they encountered.
It's not that I no longer believe in such things, it's just that it all seems so much harder now and maybe a little more complicated. While the seminar leaders and our youth director, Matt Smith, kept using the word uncomfortable, the word that kept coming to my mind was overwhelming. There is just so much to do--so much need. Like eating the proverbial elephant, I am not sure where to take the first bite.
Meanwhile, the signs of tempest swirl around us. The preacher's analogy to Amos and his time was a fair warning to any of us who might be listening and who might be able to figure out what we might do. And perhaps the most challenging part of all this is the subtlety of it all. No one intentionally sets out to be unjust. People are not trying to purposely ignore or disenfranchise the folks on the fringe. Nobody plans to tear up the planet. It just sort of happens. Maybe it's a by-product of our broken humanity. Not to offer an excuse but some kind of explanation. The self interest, the ambition, the excess...it adds up. And it does do damage, even if unintentional.
I like the words from Micah. I like them because, unlike the overwhelming nature of injustice, the Lord's answer to the question here actually seems doable. Perhaps we can commit ourselves to something as simple as this--to doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly... Perhaps this is something that we can keep in front of us as well--maybe write it on our hands or stick it to the regrigerator with a magnet. So often justice seems to be a monolith--an impossible problem that we all have to fix. And perhaps that's part of the problem. Rather than trying to eat the entire elephant in one bite, maybe we just have to hear and respond to these words from Micah. Each of us hearing and committing ourselves to a simple formula that invites us to live a little more lightly, a little more decently. I think I might be able to do that.
I just returned from accompanying the youth on a trip to Washington, D.C. The week prior, our young people had left The Portico to travel about in the inner city of Charlotte. They engaged in a unique ministry that allows participants to see and meet and work directly with some of the poverty missions within the city. At the end of the week, the group boarded a train and headed to D.C. for something called "The United Methodist Seminar."
The seminar takes place at the United Methodist building. The first thing that strikes you about the building is the location. It sits across the street from the US Capitol and a stone's throw from the Supreme Court, offering a bird's eye view on all things moving and shaking. No mistake here. When the United Methodist women bought the land and paid for the building back in 1923, it was a clear statement to the powers that be that they would be watching. And they would be speaking, especially on behalf of those who had little voice in the decisions effecting their lives. And for almost 100 years now, the UM church has sought to be a voice of justice to the powers of this land.
The seminar itself was a take-no-prisoners look at homelessness. The presenters explained how common it is to look upon poverty rather than behind it. With a brief nod to the importance of pity and generosity, our teenagers were quickly told that charity is not enough. The Church needs to be a voice of justice on behalf of the poor. The Church needs to act, to work on the root causes and seek to eradicate the factors that give rise to the conditions that we are so good at feeling bad about.
The focus of the seminar fit well with the sermon that we had heard the day before. At Asbury UMC, we listened as Fred Smith likened our time to the days of the prophet Amos. Citing everything from interest rates to global warming, Fred noted the apocalyptic tones ringing all around us. Like Amos, the preacher denied any confident credentials in the matters of God, simply noting, "I'm just saying..."
For me, the trip was a bit of a trip down memory lane. This was Christianity as I had known at an earlier point in my life. In college, I used to gather with a group of people who would get together specifically to pray about peace and ways to work for nuclear disarmament. During seminary, my roomate volunteered a couple of times a month at the men's shelter in Durham, staying overnight with the homeless men who took refuge there. When I first entered the ministry, I worked with two inner city organizations in Des Moines, Iowa. My closest friends were people that Micah and Amos would have been happy to hang out with. These were pastors who worked in the farm-workers movement and met regularly with city councilmen to make sure the poor had a voice. They seemed to have boundless energy, fighting for every justice issue they encountered.
It's not that I no longer believe in such things, it's just that it all seems so much harder now and maybe a little more complicated. While the seminar leaders and our youth director, Matt Smith, kept using the word uncomfortable, the word that kept coming to my mind was overwhelming. There is just so much to do--so much need. Like eating the proverbial elephant, I am not sure where to take the first bite.
Meanwhile, the signs of tempest swirl around us. The preacher's analogy to Amos and his time was a fair warning to any of us who might be listening and who might be able to figure out what we might do. And perhaps the most challenging part of all this is the subtlety of it all. No one intentionally sets out to be unjust. People are not trying to purposely ignore or disenfranchise the folks on the fringe. Nobody plans to tear up the planet. It just sort of happens. Maybe it's a by-product of our broken humanity. Not to offer an excuse but some kind of explanation. The self interest, the ambition, the excess...it adds up. And it does do damage, even if unintentional.
I like the words from Micah. I like them because, unlike the overwhelming nature of injustice, the Lord's answer to the question here actually seems doable. Perhaps we can commit ourselves to something as simple as this--to doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly... Perhaps this is something that we can keep in front of us as well--maybe write it on our hands or stick it to the regrigerator with a magnet. So often justice seems to be a monolith--an impossible problem that we all have to fix. And perhaps that's part of the problem. Rather than trying to eat the entire elephant in one bite, maybe we just have to hear and respond to these words from Micah. Each of us hearing and committing ourselves to a simple formula that invites us to live a little more lightly, a little more decently. I think I might be able to do that.
Monday, July 12, 2010
LeCircus
For those who heard my sermon yesterday, the comments here will not be especially new. If you missed it, the sermon centered upon Micah 6: What does the Lord require...but to do justice love kindness and walk humbly with your God...
My sermon contrasted the Scriptural expectation of humility and justice against the me-first values of our time, depicted most recently in the spectacle of Lebron James' free agency as well as the hype and media circus surrounding it. ESPN aired a special entitled, "The Decision" in which Lebron publicly announced that he would be taking his talents to South Beach. The entire process was so over-the-top that it actually drew criticism from the media itself (or at least from rival networks and commentators). My favorite quote came from Eric Stangel, the head writer and executive producer for The Late Show with David Letterman, who wrote, "I'm keeping my 2 yr old up to watch the Lebron James Special. I want her to see the exact moment our society hit rock bottom." Naturally, he posted the comment on Twitter.
All this has little, really, to do with Lebron James. Except that he now represents the latest example--one more symptom, really--of a society that is very, very sick. Celebrities are lifted up and worshiped to the point that they cannot help but believe that they really are the heroes we imagine them to be. It's all a ridiculous circus but no one seems particularly able to point this out. Instead, we just play along. Turn on our televisions and watch as our society slips into the dust of narcissistic history. Even though we might sense the absurdity, it seems that we are nevertheless destined to play out a drama in which the logical conclusion is complete and utter catastrophe. What does the Lord require has been replaced by an unquenchable appetite that begins with a very different question...What's in it for me? We really cannot blame Lebron or anyone else who appears to blessed by all of this because we're all failing to offer any real alternative. Go get yours we say. Because, frankly, that's the best idea we've got...
The Church has failed greatly in this regard. More than anything else, we have failed in memory and imagination. We've forgotten our own story and we lack the courage to explain to one another that every society that has headed down this road has ended in ruins.
Surely the Church has something interesting to say to a society that is tumbling headlong into the abyss of the self... Yet where is that voice? Indeed, some corners of the Church have gone so far as to actually join the circus--promoting the very narcissistic values that are polluting our culture. Some of the fastest growing churches in our society right now are promoting values and practices that are diametrically opposed to the central teachings of the Gospel and the Scriptures. It is difficult to blame the faithful when the very institutions that they trust to tell the truth have sold out to cheap and easy answers simply because they seem popular.
And that's really the thing. If we fail to ask questions like the one that Micah is asking in Micah 6, who will? If we forget the lessons of our own story, who do we expect to remember them? It is one thing for the world to lose its mind but the Church is without excuse. For we do have an alternative story. We do have an alternative message that is compelling and reliable enough to challenge the prevailing nonsense of our time... But will we muster the imagination and courage to recall it and speak it? If we do not, then we deserve Lebron and Lady Gaga.
This is a central tenet of my own leadership at Saint Francis. I want to invite us to be a community that attends to an alternative way of living in the world. I want us to be a community that asks questions about God, about life, and about the world in which we live. I want us to seek that unique path of humility and courage--a path that is revealed in people like Micah and Jesus and Francis of Assisi.
My sermon contrasted the Scriptural expectation of humility and justice against the me-first values of our time, depicted most recently in the spectacle of Lebron James' free agency as well as the hype and media circus surrounding it. ESPN aired a special entitled, "The Decision" in which Lebron publicly announced that he would be taking his talents to South Beach. The entire process was so over-the-top that it actually drew criticism from the media itself (or at least from rival networks and commentators). My favorite quote came from Eric Stangel, the head writer and executive producer for The Late Show with David Letterman, who wrote, "I'm keeping my 2 yr old up to watch the Lebron James Special. I want her to see the exact moment our society hit rock bottom." Naturally, he posted the comment on Twitter.
All this has little, really, to do with Lebron James. Except that he now represents the latest example--one more symptom, really--of a society that is very, very sick. Celebrities are lifted up and worshiped to the point that they cannot help but believe that they really are the heroes we imagine them to be. It's all a ridiculous circus but no one seems particularly able to point this out. Instead, we just play along. Turn on our televisions and watch as our society slips into the dust of narcissistic history. Even though we might sense the absurdity, it seems that we are nevertheless destined to play out a drama in which the logical conclusion is complete and utter catastrophe. What does the Lord require has been replaced by an unquenchable appetite that begins with a very different question...What's in it for me? We really cannot blame Lebron or anyone else who appears to blessed by all of this because we're all failing to offer any real alternative. Go get yours we say. Because, frankly, that's the best idea we've got...
The Church has failed greatly in this regard. More than anything else, we have failed in memory and imagination. We've forgotten our own story and we lack the courage to explain to one another that every society that has headed down this road has ended in ruins.
Surely the Church has something interesting to say to a society that is tumbling headlong into the abyss of the self... Yet where is that voice? Indeed, some corners of the Church have gone so far as to actually join the circus--promoting the very narcissistic values that are polluting our culture. Some of the fastest growing churches in our society right now are promoting values and practices that are diametrically opposed to the central teachings of the Gospel and the Scriptures. It is difficult to blame the faithful when the very institutions that they trust to tell the truth have sold out to cheap and easy answers simply because they seem popular.
And that's really the thing. If we fail to ask questions like the one that Micah is asking in Micah 6, who will? If we forget the lessons of our own story, who do we expect to remember them? It is one thing for the world to lose its mind but the Church is without excuse. For we do have an alternative story. We do have an alternative message that is compelling and reliable enough to challenge the prevailing nonsense of our time... But will we muster the imagination and courage to recall it and speak it? If we do not, then we deserve Lebron and Lady Gaga.
This is a central tenet of my own leadership at Saint Francis. I want to invite us to be a community that attends to an alternative way of living in the world. I want us to be a community that asks questions about God, about life, and about the world in which we live. I want us to seek that unique path of humility and courage--a path that is revealed in people like Micah and Jesus and Francis of Assisi.
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