...Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given to me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’... (2 Corinthians 12:7-9)
There is a long and intriguing mystery about Paul's reference here in 2 Corinthians. What exactly was that legendary "thorn?" What was it that the devil used to keep Paul's comfort and joy at bay? That subject of torment...Was it a physical ailment? Was it a psychological disorder or a spiritual weakness? Was it a carnal desire or some deep-seated insecurity? Perhaps it was a loneliness that came from the constant travel. Or maybe it was a steady annoyance inspired by the company that he was forced to keep?
Whatever it was... We don't know. We will probably never know--unless by some chance event we catch the Apostle some day over a cup of coffee in heaven. Fat chance though--something tells me that Paul's heaven will not include time for coffee. I could be wrong though.
But I get the deal. I get the frustration and I get the answer. I live by the answer. My grace is sufficient... For Paul. For Me. For You. For whatever it is that ails us... The Lord has the remedy. And the remedy... it isn't a pill or a fortune or a get-outta-jail-free card.
And that has become the exact thing I was hoping to hear. I first heard it many years ago. I was suffering under my "torment of the year" or decade. At wits end and losing both my youth and strength. Knowing but not really knowing how faith works and all that. And God threw me a line. Pulled my head up out of the mire just enough to get me through. It wasn't complete--and thank God! Who wants to be completely rescued? Of course, I couldn't fully appreciate it at the time but it was enough. Enough to get me through and, more importantly, enough to learn that it is all about enough--just enough to see us through.
There is music in my world. And it's not esoteric harps in my head. It is the music of other people. People who seem awake and able to see and feel the pain and appreciate the wonder.
I don't have a wide list of things that save me but the short list is as precious as oxygen. An honest song or a great story. It's sufficient to see me through another day or at least a few more hours... Patty Griffin and Stephan Jenkins, Noel and Liam Gallagher, Jenny Lewis and Adam Duritz, Tracy Chapman and Jackson Browne... Did God send these folks into the world to keep me alive? No, but their voices have often reached me at the exact moment...
I can only trust that it is the same for the rest of us. Not that you are saved by my music or by any music for that matter. But that there is grace sufficient for you too. In whatever form works. Whatever language can break through the torment that keeps your comfort and joy at bay.
If you follow what I am saying here, here's to hanging on! We've made it through another stretch! If you feel as though the grace in your life is just not quite cutting it...Don't give up. Keep looking and keep bugging God about it. If the journey feels long and weary, let God know about it. You probably won't get the get-outta-jail-free card. But it might just be that you really don't want that anyway.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
The Social Network
I don't Facebook. I need to say that right off the bat. A person once sent me an email with links to some photos and the only way that I could view them was to fill out an online form. So I suppose my name is out there somewhere and I do, ocassionally, get "friend requests" but I don't respond to them and I don't use a Facebook account. The reason is twofold.
First, there is sort of an unspoken agreement between my sons and I. Part of this is simply maintaining a healthy distance. There are certain places teenagers just don't want to run into their parents. It's not merely privacy, it is also sort of a "dibs" thing--a belief that there is only so much cool stuff to go around. By the time I learned anything at all about Facebook, my sons were already pretty much insiders. And frankly, it wasn't that hard to pass on the intrigue. At least not for forty-something men. I can see how it is great for younger, single folks and women too because they like communication and all that. But most middle-aged men that I know can only get into trouble with this kind of thing.
The second reason that I don't do Facebook is because it is clearly a time-trap and I already have plenty of those in my life. And it is a unique sort of time-trap because it promotes a sedentary lifestyle. Of course, this isn't just Facebook. Techology generally and computers especially are blackholes for time and attention. There are a few differences between sitting on the couch and sitting in front of the computer but there are a lot of similarities as well. (I realize that we can now do both at the same time.)
While I don't do Facebook; I absolutely do use a computer a lot. And I do think Facebook is cool, just not that cool. So that's the caveat. I am not an expert on Facebook. But I do see a lot of movies. And "The Social Network" is a very good movie.
The story is interesting; the acting is excellent and the truth telling is subtle. The first two are straightforward enough so I will focus on the latter--and without spoiling the film for those of you who have yet to see it.
Good preaching doesn't feel preachy. Good teaching allows you to learn without feeling like you've been abused in the process. In the same way, good film-making portrays a story in such a way as to be both engaging and meaningful. "The Social Network" tells the story of bright, young men. Bright, young men are not gods. They are not even wise, old men. But they have something that neither gods nor old men have. We might call it passion or moxy or creative disatisfaction. But whatever it is, it allows them, sometimes, to do things that the rest of us are unwilling or unable to do. This is what makes Facebook cool and it is what makes "The Social Network" a very engaging film.
What we are really talking about here is adventure. It is taking a path, an uncertain path in a bold direction. For those who are given the chance and take hold of it, a youthful adventure is one of the highlights of human life. (I say one of because it is definitely not the only one. Raising children and seeing grandchildren are perhaps greater highlights. It is just that these are more common and, therefore, generally under-recognized.) Anyway, to set out or step out toward a vision--this is an amazing thing. And while adventure is the subject of countless stories, it is an experience in which only the few actually embrace.
The thing is though, in a true adventure, at least in a true human adventure, there are authentic challenges. Greatness is a mixed bag and the path to it frought with very real struggle and suffering. This is the aspect of "The Social Network" that really caught my attention. Without wallowing in it, the film captures the pitfalls and dark sides of success. It reveals, ever so subtly, the ways in which ambition threatens and even destroys things like friendship and joy.
It's a terrifying consideration really--that the very thing that moves us and motivates us can also potentially destroy us. And this is not some kind of black and white moral decision that we can easily make. It is almost as if the lesson invariably comes after the risk itself. And then sometimes it can be too late... Powerful stuff and real.
The last thing that I will say about the film is less universal but nevertheless connected. The film portrays a great deal of partying. Some of this is because the story is about twenty-something characters. And some is certainly because Hollywood now seems to feel that the best way to get young people to go to movies is to glamorize sex and drugs.
I went to the film with my seventeen year old son. My eighteen year old is already in college. I wonder what they make of all this, really. I wonder what they make of the ambition and the whole idea of success. But I also wonder about the real Social Network. I wonder what they make of the way in which the film portrays friendship, intimacy and sex. Do they imagine that this is what college should be? Do teenagers today believe that the pinnacle of social life is a world where they will have the means to embrace unbridled excess?
I have never considered myself a prude but I found the party scenes unsettling and not just because I was sitting next to my son. The one concrete example that I do want to point out is not to offend or overstate, and it is certainly not a spoiler for the film. It it rather to raise a question about cultural good...
There is a scene in the film in which characters have sex in a bathroom stall. I wasn't exactly sure what to make of the message? I knew how I felt about the scene... But I wasn't at all sure about the rest of the people in the theater. Particularly telling, I think, was that I wasn't even sure how the characters in the story felt about it. Is this evidence of the strength of the film--demonstrating the moral ambiguity plaguing this generation? Or is it simply evidence that I am now just too old and removed from what's going on out there?
Our kids are part of a generation that is being bombarded with a virtually endless range of goods. With so much access and so few boundaries, how can they discern what they should and should not want? "The Social Network" is a story about the most significant thing in many of their lives. I wonder what they made of it.
First, there is sort of an unspoken agreement between my sons and I. Part of this is simply maintaining a healthy distance. There are certain places teenagers just don't want to run into their parents. It's not merely privacy, it is also sort of a "dibs" thing--a belief that there is only so much cool stuff to go around. By the time I learned anything at all about Facebook, my sons were already pretty much insiders. And frankly, it wasn't that hard to pass on the intrigue. At least not for forty-something men. I can see how it is great for younger, single folks and women too because they like communication and all that. But most middle-aged men that I know can only get into trouble with this kind of thing.
The second reason that I don't do Facebook is because it is clearly a time-trap and I already have plenty of those in my life. And it is a unique sort of time-trap because it promotes a sedentary lifestyle. Of course, this isn't just Facebook. Techology generally and computers especially are blackholes for time and attention. There are a few differences between sitting on the couch and sitting in front of the computer but there are a lot of similarities as well. (I realize that we can now do both at the same time.)
While I don't do Facebook; I absolutely do use a computer a lot. And I do think Facebook is cool, just not that cool. So that's the caveat. I am not an expert on Facebook. But I do see a lot of movies. And "The Social Network" is a very good movie.
The story is interesting; the acting is excellent and the truth telling is subtle. The first two are straightforward enough so I will focus on the latter--and without spoiling the film for those of you who have yet to see it.
Good preaching doesn't feel preachy. Good teaching allows you to learn without feeling like you've been abused in the process. In the same way, good film-making portrays a story in such a way as to be both engaging and meaningful. "The Social Network" tells the story of bright, young men. Bright, young men are not gods. They are not even wise, old men. But they have something that neither gods nor old men have. We might call it passion or moxy or creative disatisfaction. But whatever it is, it allows them, sometimes, to do things that the rest of us are unwilling or unable to do. This is what makes Facebook cool and it is what makes "The Social Network" a very engaging film.
What we are really talking about here is adventure. It is taking a path, an uncertain path in a bold direction. For those who are given the chance and take hold of it, a youthful adventure is one of the highlights of human life. (I say one of because it is definitely not the only one. Raising children and seeing grandchildren are perhaps greater highlights. It is just that these are more common and, therefore, generally under-recognized.) Anyway, to set out or step out toward a vision--this is an amazing thing. And while adventure is the subject of countless stories, it is an experience in which only the few actually embrace.
The thing is though, in a true adventure, at least in a true human adventure, there are authentic challenges. Greatness is a mixed bag and the path to it frought with very real struggle and suffering. This is the aspect of "The Social Network" that really caught my attention. Without wallowing in it, the film captures the pitfalls and dark sides of success. It reveals, ever so subtly, the ways in which ambition threatens and even destroys things like friendship and joy.
It's a terrifying consideration really--that the very thing that moves us and motivates us can also potentially destroy us. And this is not some kind of black and white moral decision that we can easily make. It is almost as if the lesson invariably comes after the risk itself. And then sometimes it can be too late... Powerful stuff and real.
The last thing that I will say about the film is less universal but nevertheless connected. The film portrays a great deal of partying. Some of this is because the story is about twenty-something characters. And some is certainly because Hollywood now seems to feel that the best way to get young people to go to movies is to glamorize sex and drugs.
I went to the film with my seventeen year old son. My eighteen year old is already in college. I wonder what they make of all this, really. I wonder what they make of the ambition and the whole idea of success. But I also wonder about the real Social Network. I wonder what they make of the way in which the film portrays friendship, intimacy and sex. Do they imagine that this is what college should be? Do teenagers today believe that the pinnacle of social life is a world where they will have the means to embrace unbridled excess?
I have never considered myself a prude but I found the party scenes unsettling and not just because I was sitting next to my son. The one concrete example that I do want to point out is not to offend or overstate, and it is certainly not a spoiler for the film. It it rather to raise a question about cultural good...
There is a scene in the film in which characters have sex in a bathroom stall. I wasn't exactly sure what to make of the message? I knew how I felt about the scene... But I wasn't at all sure about the rest of the people in the theater. Particularly telling, I think, was that I wasn't even sure how the characters in the story felt about it. Is this evidence of the strength of the film--demonstrating the moral ambiguity plaguing this generation? Or is it simply evidence that I am now just too old and removed from what's going on out there?
Our kids are part of a generation that is being bombarded with a virtually endless range of goods. With so much access and so few boundaries, how can they discern what they should and should not want? "The Social Network" is a story about the most significant thing in many of their lives. I wonder what they made of it.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Christian Glory
Each fall, Duke Divinity School sponsors an annual Convocation and Pastor's School. It is a three day event in which clergy gather for continuing education and fellowship. It is also a chance to see colleagues and friends outside the regular context of the parish. The event includes timely lectures by leaders in Theology or Science as well as brief classes offered by Divinity School faculty. There is also morning and evening worship. Typically, the worship is highlighted by guest preachers who, like the lecturers, have recently made a name for themselves in one way or another.
Each year that I attend, I marvel at the fanfare. The moderator will typically spend two or three minutes highlighting accomplishments. But this is merely to introduce the presenter of the presenter. And then, this person will spend another five minutes documenting the spectacular resume of the actual lecturer. Even the preachers are introduced this way. By the time the actual speaker reaches the podium, there is so much glory and expectation in the air that everyone in the room is sweaty and exhausted. Perhaps this is the point. After all that expectation, it must be great, right? And truth be told, it usually is.
It is a treat to listen to men and women with exceptional minds and oratory gifts. The lectures at Convocation are consistently interesting and I always return with a renewed spirit and some new theological insight.
The worship and preaching, however, are a bit more hit and miss. Probably for the same reason. While the showering of accolades and all that intoxicating glory might make sense and add credibility to a lecture hall, they seem out of place in a sanctuary. There is just something awkward about Christian glory. But it was actually out of this awkwardness that I gained one of my favorite preaching anecdotes.
It happened one year when the Convocation organizers decided to take a different tact. Rather than inviting the Minister to the University at Harvard or the Senior Pastor of Mega Church USA, the organizers decided to invite someone from within our own ranks. We showed up for worship that evening and looked at the bulletin. "Who is this guy?" We all wondered. "Oh, that's such and such. He serves First Church Albemarle..." You could hear the murmerings, almost see the wheels turning in the minds of the clergy. Each man trying to figure out how the organizers had passed over the best preacher in the room.
I was still a member of the Iowa Annual Conference back then so I had no skin in the game. I always came back to Duke to see a few friends, enjoy the October weather in Carolina, and clear my mind. But there were only a few of us--folks who came from distance. The rest of the 1000 or so others came from the two Carolina Conferences. These clergymen (and they were mostly men), came to Convocation not only for the lectures but also to be seen, to shake the right hands and maybe make a case for a better appointment next time around.
Worship began and processed pretty much the way it always did. We read thoughtful liturgies and sang bellowing cathedral hymns; someone offered a perfect prayer... And then came the moment of truth. Pastor Such and Such from Nowhere, North Carolina was introduced and began the coveted march up the steps to the great pulpit in Duke Chapel. I did not know the preacher personally but from the limited bullets in his introduction I gathered that this was a pretty young man. Although he was ordained and, from that standpoint, speaking to a gathering of peers, the fact was that many of these men had been serving churches since before he had even been born.
What followed was a forty-minute diatribe in which Pastor Such and Such condemned the entire gathering for all our misgivings. He scolded us for being weak, unfaithful and generally worthless pastors. Covering just about every area of ministry, he assured the clergy of both the North Carolina and Western North Carolina conferences that they were failing in their calling as shepherds of God's people.
By the time it was finally over, the place was more than ready to be emptied. As we were making our way out, I realized that I had been sitting just a few rows away from the man who had been my preaching professor while I was at the Divinity School. He saw me and simply said, "Never underestimate ridicule as an effective sermon technique." It was a perfect response to a perfectly horrible sermon.
It wasn't that the man was saying things that were not true. It was just that he was saying them without so much as a hint of grace. I wasn't sure which I felt more--anger or pity. The man had not only blown a great opportunity; he had almost certainly misrepresented himself. Back home in Nowhere, he was probably a compassionate pastor and a fine preacher. But all that had somehow been lost in translation for the sake of that glorious shot at preaching to his peers in Duke Chapel.
There was a lesson that night. It just wasn't what the preacher had to say. It was what he did--how he presented himself in the pulpit as a representative of Christ and the Gospel. I suspect that all those men who had earlier coveted the chance to stand in his place recanted before they left the chapel that night. And the Convocation organizers tool. Since that night, I do not recall seeing the names of my colleagues in the chapel bulletin. We Average Joes had had our chance and it was clear that we were not ready.
There are many symbols of Christianity. But the Cross remains the best one. It stands as a reminder--not only of God's love but also of the unique and compelling way in which it was revealed.
Each year that I attend, I marvel at the fanfare. The moderator will typically spend two or three minutes highlighting accomplishments. But this is merely to introduce the presenter of the presenter. And then, this person will spend another five minutes documenting the spectacular resume of the actual lecturer. Even the preachers are introduced this way. By the time the actual speaker reaches the podium, there is so much glory and expectation in the air that everyone in the room is sweaty and exhausted. Perhaps this is the point. After all that expectation, it must be great, right? And truth be told, it usually is.
It is a treat to listen to men and women with exceptional minds and oratory gifts. The lectures at Convocation are consistently interesting and I always return with a renewed spirit and some new theological insight.
The worship and preaching, however, are a bit more hit and miss. Probably for the same reason. While the showering of accolades and all that intoxicating glory might make sense and add credibility to a lecture hall, they seem out of place in a sanctuary. There is just something awkward about Christian glory. But it was actually out of this awkwardness that I gained one of my favorite preaching anecdotes.
It happened one year when the Convocation organizers decided to take a different tact. Rather than inviting the Minister to the University at Harvard or the Senior Pastor of Mega Church USA, the organizers decided to invite someone from within our own ranks. We showed up for worship that evening and looked at the bulletin. "Who is this guy?" We all wondered. "Oh, that's such and such. He serves First Church Albemarle..." You could hear the murmerings, almost see the wheels turning in the minds of the clergy. Each man trying to figure out how the organizers had passed over the best preacher in the room.
I was still a member of the Iowa Annual Conference back then so I had no skin in the game. I always came back to Duke to see a few friends, enjoy the October weather in Carolina, and clear my mind. But there were only a few of us--folks who came from distance. The rest of the 1000 or so others came from the two Carolina Conferences. These clergymen (and they were mostly men), came to Convocation not only for the lectures but also to be seen, to shake the right hands and maybe make a case for a better appointment next time around.
Worship began and processed pretty much the way it always did. We read thoughtful liturgies and sang bellowing cathedral hymns; someone offered a perfect prayer... And then came the moment of truth. Pastor Such and Such from Nowhere, North Carolina was introduced and began the coveted march up the steps to the great pulpit in Duke Chapel. I did not know the preacher personally but from the limited bullets in his introduction I gathered that this was a pretty young man. Although he was ordained and, from that standpoint, speaking to a gathering of peers, the fact was that many of these men had been serving churches since before he had even been born.
What followed was a forty-minute diatribe in which Pastor Such and Such condemned the entire gathering for all our misgivings. He scolded us for being weak, unfaithful and generally worthless pastors. Covering just about every area of ministry, he assured the clergy of both the North Carolina and Western North Carolina conferences that they were failing in their calling as shepherds of God's people.
By the time it was finally over, the place was more than ready to be emptied. As we were making our way out, I realized that I had been sitting just a few rows away from the man who had been my preaching professor while I was at the Divinity School. He saw me and simply said, "Never underestimate ridicule as an effective sermon technique." It was a perfect response to a perfectly horrible sermon.
It wasn't that the man was saying things that were not true. It was just that he was saying them without so much as a hint of grace. I wasn't sure which I felt more--anger or pity. The man had not only blown a great opportunity; he had almost certainly misrepresented himself. Back home in Nowhere, he was probably a compassionate pastor and a fine preacher. But all that had somehow been lost in translation for the sake of that glorious shot at preaching to his peers in Duke Chapel.
There was a lesson that night. It just wasn't what the preacher had to say. It was what he did--how he presented himself in the pulpit as a representative of Christ and the Gospel. I suspect that all those men who had earlier coveted the chance to stand in his place recanted before they left the chapel that night. And the Convocation organizers tool. Since that night, I do not recall seeing the names of my colleagues in the chapel bulletin. We Average Joes had had our chance and it was clear that we were not ready.
There are many symbols of Christianity. But the Cross remains the best one. It stands as a reminder--not only of God's love but also of the unique and compelling way in which it was revealed.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Hope at Ground Zero
For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land. Jeremiah 32:15
The people of Saint Francis have done an amazing thing. Of course, some might say that it was irresponsible or even dangerous. But I believe that it is courageous, faithful and exciting. We have been building, painting, carpeting, and renovating... First our youth building and more recently, our main building. And just last night we made the decision to renovate the chancel area in our sanctuary.
What makes this amazing is that we are doing all of this in a down economy. Indeed, we are doing these things in what is without doubt the most challenging economic period that many of our people have experienced in their lifetimes. Nevertheless, out of faith in God and a commitment to the mission and ministry of the Church, we are preparing. To coin a Biblical phrase, we are "making ready" for the things that God has in store for us and for countless others that we have not yet met.
Praise God for his sovereign grace and generosity and thank you to the leadership of Saint Francis for their faith and courage!
Following is a reprint of an article that I wrote for the Saint Francis Newsletter back in July of this year. It is about another time in which someone did an amazing, reckless wonderful thing out of faith...
Chapter 32 of The Book of Jeremiah retells what might be the worst real estate transaction in the entire Bible. Jeremiah the Prophet is locked up in the courtyard for making unhappy observations and predictions that have irritated King Zedekiah. While in jail, he receives a word from the Lord that he is about to be visited by his cousin—a cousin that he has not seen in a very long time. It turns out that his cousin wants to sell him a spot of land on the family farm. Significant here is the fact that the spot is either currently or soon to be inhabited by the invading Chaldeans and Jeremiah knows it. The land is about to be taken over and Israel is soon to be turned upside down. Furthermore, Jeremeiah knows that things are only going to get worse; at least in the short run. So here comes Jeremiah's cousin hoping to get out while he can.
Remember now, Jeremiah, himself, is imprisoned and the land is well out of reach. In fact, he may never be able to use it or even set foot on it. Nevertheless, Jeremiah not only agrees to the purchase, he goes to great lengths to ensure that all the documentation is done correctly and that there are witnesses to seal the deal. The point of Jeremiah’s actions and, indeed, the point of the story itself is a demonstration of hope. Though Jeremiah understands that Judah is being judged and that there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth, he also understands that God is faithful. The Lord will ultimately remember his people and keep the promises that he has made to them despite their unfaithfulness.
Like King Zedekiah, most of us would prefer to hear the good word from the prophet. We would like to hear how things are going to get better and soon. And sometimes that is the message. But sometimes the Lord has work to do, and sometimes that work is extended. Perhaps we have so turned away from God or gotten the world so far out of balance that it is going to take some time for God to set things right. The way that we respond to this says a lot about us.
Jeremiah’s actions in chapter 32 are a statement of hope and encouragement for his people. He wants to assure them that God is faithful though it might not seem that way in the moment. To those present that day in the courtyard, it surely must have seemed like Jeremiah was a complete fool. Nevertheless, he understood something that the people had forgotten.
There is a saying, “Live your life in such a way that it makes no sense apart from the existence of God.” The point here is not that we go out and make foolish real estate decisions or spend dwindling cash deposits on renovating our church buildings. It is rather to see, believe and act in ways that demonstrates our faith in God. It is to live as though we truly understand that no matter how things seem at the moment, God is good and God holds the future.
I commend the leadership of Saint Francis for acting courageously. We might have offered a thousand reasons why we can't or should not do such things but instead we stepped forward in faith, trusting God and one another. May God look with favor upon this courage, bless our fellowship and show us how we can serve Christ as we continue to move forward.
The people of Saint Francis have done an amazing thing. Of course, some might say that it was irresponsible or even dangerous. But I believe that it is courageous, faithful and exciting. We have been building, painting, carpeting, and renovating... First our youth building and more recently, our main building. And just last night we made the decision to renovate the chancel area in our sanctuary.
What makes this amazing is that we are doing all of this in a down economy. Indeed, we are doing these things in what is without doubt the most challenging economic period that many of our people have experienced in their lifetimes. Nevertheless, out of faith in God and a commitment to the mission and ministry of the Church, we are preparing. To coin a Biblical phrase, we are "making ready" for the things that God has in store for us and for countless others that we have not yet met.
Praise God for his sovereign grace and generosity and thank you to the leadership of Saint Francis for their faith and courage!
Following is a reprint of an article that I wrote for the Saint Francis Newsletter back in July of this year. It is about another time in which someone did an amazing, reckless wonderful thing out of faith...
Chapter 32 of The Book of Jeremiah retells what might be the worst real estate transaction in the entire Bible. Jeremiah the Prophet is locked up in the courtyard for making unhappy observations and predictions that have irritated King Zedekiah. While in jail, he receives a word from the Lord that he is about to be visited by his cousin—a cousin that he has not seen in a very long time. It turns out that his cousin wants to sell him a spot of land on the family farm. Significant here is the fact that the spot is either currently or soon to be inhabited by the invading Chaldeans and Jeremiah knows it. The land is about to be taken over and Israel is soon to be turned upside down. Furthermore, Jeremeiah knows that things are only going to get worse; at least in the short run. So here comes Jeremiah's cousin hoping to get out while he can.
Remember now, Jeremiah, himself, is imprisoned and the land is well out of reach. In fact, he may never be able to use it or even set foot on it. Nevertheless, Jeremiah not only agrees to the purchase, he goes to great lengths to ensure that all the documentation is done correctly and that there are witnesses to seal the deal. The point of Jeremiah’s actions and, indeed, the point of the story itself is a demonstration of hope. Though Jeremiah understands that Judah is being judged and that there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth, he also understands that God is faithful. The Lord will ultimately remember his people and keep the promises that he has made to them despite their unfaithfulness.
Like King Zedekiah, most of us would prefer to hear the good word from the prophet. We would like to hear how things are going to get better and soon. And sometimes that is the message. But sometimes the Lord has work to do, and sometimes that work is extended. Perhaps we have so turned away from God or gotten the world so far out of balance that it is going to take some time for God to set things right. The way that we respond to this says a lot about us.
Jeremiah’s actions in chapter 32 are a statement of hope and encouragement for his people. He wants to assure them that God is faithful though it might not seem that way in the moment. To those present that day in the courtyard, it surely must have seemed like Jeremiah was a complete fool. Nevertheless, he understood something that the people had forgotten.
There is a saying, “Live your life in such a way that it makes no sense apart from the existence of God.” The point here is not that we go out and make foolish real estate decisions or spend dwindling cash deposits on renovating our church buildings. It is rather to see, believe and act in ways that demonstrates our faith in God. It is to live as though we truly understand that no matter how things seem at the moment, God is good and God holds the future.
I commend the leadership of Saint Francis for acting courageously. We might have offered a thousand reasons why we can't or should not do such things but instead we stepped forward in faith, trusting God and one another. May God look with favor upon this courage, bless our fellowship and show us how we can serve Christ as we continue to move forward.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Porcelain
I just finished an email. I've been corresponding with a friend about the "Restoring Honor" rally recently held in Washington, D.C. He's rightfully concerned over the use of language. People, and especially people of power, understand the importance of language. The words we use, the stories we tell, and the ways in which we bring the past to the present is powerful stuff. Or, to put it more directly, in any given argument, the one who controls the language tends to win the day.
This is why the rally and the storyline leading up to it has caused great deal of commotion. There is emotion tied up with our understanding of the past and the way that we name our histories. Following is a paragraph from the email that I sent to my friend. In an effort to avoid some of the sharper emotional edges of this debate, I have sought to avoid the details and focus on what I think is an important but largely missed component of all this...
...This is the political cynicism that I am increasingly disturbed by. It is one thing for people like you and I (folks who have no real power) to be cynical about the decisions and directions. It’s playful and helps us blow off steam… But it is quite another thing for folks like Rupert Murdock, Rahm Emanuel or Joel Osteen. These are people who have significant influence. I am concerned less by people with strong opinions than I am with whether or not these strong opinions are genuine. As strange as it might sound, I’d feel better if these people truly believed in whatever agendas they’re espousing. As it is, I am afraid that they’re a bit more concerned with public opinion--the new expediency.. This is the great secret of the political environment of our time. It is the secret of an unaccountable life. Do whatever it takes and paint it any way you like because no one’s really watching--except, of course, the people that you are trying to win over... This is the take I have on the current spectacle. That people get money and affirmation to tell others what they have “tuned-in” to hear... Something comes to mind about the world's oldest profession...
Cynicism is scary stuff... And it's sad because we work on it so hard.
Hey, you've got a lot of nerve
to show your face around here.
Hey, you've got a lot of nerve
to dredge up all my fears.
Well, I wish I could shake some sense into you
and walk out the door.
But your skin is like porcelain.
Yeah, your skin is like porcelain.
Just the other day I felt I had you by a string.
Just the other day I felt we could be everything.
But now when I see you, you're somebody else.
In somebody's eyes and your skin...
But your skin is like porcelain.
Yeah, your skin is like porcelain.
I don't know what I'm saying.
Well, I don't know if you're there.
In the words you are feigning.
Do you even care?
Well I wish I could kill you,
savor the sight.
Get in to my car, drive into the night.
Then lie as I scream to the heavens above.
That I was the last one you ever loved.
Yes, your skin is like porcelain.
"Porcelain" Better Than Ezra
This is why the rally and the storyline leading up to it has caused great deal of commotion. There is emotion tied up with our understanding of the past and the way that we name our histories. Following is a paragraph from the email that I sent to my friend. In an effort to avoid some of the sharper emotional edges of this debate, I have sought to avoid the details and focus on what I think is an important but largely missed component of all this...
...This is the political cynicism that I am increasingly disturbed by. It is one thing for people like you and I (folks who have no real power) to be cynical about the decisions and directions. It’s playful and helps us blow off steam… But it is quite another thing for folks like Rupert Murdock, Rahm Emanuel or Joel Osteen. These are people who have significant influence. I am concerned less by people with strong opinions than I am with whether or not these strong opinions are genuine. As strange as it might sound, I’d feel better if these people truly believed in whatever agendas they’re espousing. As it is, I am afraid that they’re a bit more concerned with public opinion--the new expediency.. This is the great secret of the political environment of our time. It is the secret of an unaccountable life. Do whatever it takes and paint it any way you like because no one’s really watching--except, of course, the people that you are trying to win over... This is the take I have on the current spectacle. That people get money and affirmation to tell others what they have “tuned-in” to hear... Something comes to mind about the world's oldest profession...
Cynicism is scary stuff... And it's sad because we work on it so hard.
Hey, you've got a lot of nerve
to show your face around here.
Hey, you've got a lot of nerve
to dredge up all my fears.
Well, I wish I could shake some sense into you
and walk out the door.
But your skin is like porcelain.
Yeah, your skin is like porcelain.
Just the other day I felt I had you by a string.
Just the other day I felt we could be everything.
But now when I see you, you're somebody else.
In somebody's eyes and your skin...
But your skin is like porcelain.
Yeah, your skin is like porcelain.
I don't know what I'm saying.
Well, I don't know if you're there.
In the words you are feigning.
Do you even care?
Well I wish I could kill you,
savor the sight.
Get in to my car, drive into the night.
Then lie as I scream to the heavens above.
That I was the last one you ever loved.
Yes, your skin is like porcelain.
"Porcelain" Better Than Ezra
Monday, August 16, 2010
Caring for the Soul
Each week when I sit down to write my blog entry, I pause. I ask myself, now what did I write about last time... I tend to be just a bit paranoid about saying too much about what's wrong. It's not so much the content as the tone. I don't like to write too many downer articles in a row. I've only got a couple of readers anyway and I really don't want to drive them away with too much doom and gloom. I figure it's probably hard on me as well--dwelling too much on the negative. There's more than enough bringing people down already; we really don't need to be bathing in it. So as easy as it might be to rant week after week, I sincerely try to offer something constructive from time...really, I do!
It is hard though. When I think honestly about the difference between the things that make me feel good and the things that depress me, it is a rather sobering consideration. For example, think about how much time and energy we spend on things that really don't do much for our souls. After attending to things like work, worry, and the crisis of the moment, there just isn't that much time left in the day. We almost have to go out of our way to take a walk, enjoy a good conversation or make love. And even if we do take the time, it's usually the last time of the day. In other words, the things that might feed our souls often get the very least of our attention and energy.
What's especially discouraging here is that I'm probably in the top 10% when it comes to actually having time and energy to do these kinds of things. I've got a job that allows unique freedom. We pastors work largely on a schedule that we choose. We have the time to think and pray and converse. In short, we are set apart specifically to attend to the soul. We are given the space to pay attention to things that restore life. And as such, we have a real chance to invite others to do the same. Sadly, many spiritual guides run from the opportunity. Perhaps we are afraid that others will resent the freedom or perhaps we have bought into the same model of production that is plaguing the people that we serve.
So rather than embracing and celebrating the space and taking the opportunity to encourage others to do the same, many pastors just feel guilty about their unique callings. We anxiously strive to fill our space with the same kinds of energy-draining busy work that everyone else seems to be suffering under. All this simply to avoid the strangeness of not being driven by work.
Recently I received a survey. It was sent by a third-party company to research the health of Methodist clergy in North Carolina. The questions were interesting. They dealt with everything from physical fitness and eating habits to self-esteem and congregational support. The survey was trying to assess the overall health of people like me which, of course, includes mental and spirtual health as well as physical health. Although it seems that I am healthier than many of my colleagues, I didn't find this especially encouraging. Compared to the general public, Methodist clergy have higher instances of heart disease, asthma, high blood pressure and depression. At some point, I am sure someone will explain why this is. But I suspect that it has something to do with the fact that the ministry seems to draw a lot of people-pleasing workaholics who don't pay enough attention to their own lives and families. And in this environment, there are very few voices suggesting that they do otherwise.
There is something not quite right about unhealthy spiritual leaders. An old saying about the blind leading the blind comes to mind...Like I said, I honestly think that I am doing better than average. I work pretty hard at not working hard. And yet, I still sense that I still pour too much time and energy into life-sucking rather than life-giving activities. So pray for us. If for no other reason than to make sure we are taking the time to pray for you.
For further reading about this, here's a link to an article that explains pretty well why so many pastors and congregations are as sick as they are right now http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/08/opinion/08macdonald.html
It is hard though. When I think honestly about the difference between the things that make me feel good and the things that depress me, it is a rather sobering consideration. For example, think about how much time and energy we spend on things that really don't do much for our souls. After attending to things like work, worry, and the crisis of the moment, there just isn't that much time left in the day. We almost have to go out of our way to take a walk, enjoy a good conversation or make love. And even if we do take the time, it's usually the last time of the day. In other words, the things that might feed our souls often get the very least of our attention and energy.
What's especially discouraging here is that I'm probably in the top 10% when it comes to actually having time and energy to do these kinds of things. I've got a job that allows unique freedom. We pastors work largely on a schedule that we choose. We have the time to think and pray and converse. In short, we are set apart specifically to attend to the soul. We are given the space to pay attention to things that restore life. And as such, we have a real chance to invite others to do the same. Sadly, many spiritual guides run from the opportunity. Perhaps we are afraid that others will resent the freedom or perhaps we have bought into the same model of production that is plaguing the people that we serve.
So rather than embracing and celebrating the space and taking the opportunity to encourage others to do the same, many pastors just feel guilty about their unique callings. We anxiously strive to fill our space with the same kinds of energy-draining busy work that everyone else seems to be suffering under. All this simply to avoid the strangeness of not being driven by work.
Recently I received a survey. It was sent by a third-party company to research the health of Methodist clergy in North Carolina. The questions were interesting. They dealt with everything from physical fitness and eating habits to self-esteem and congregational support. The survey was trying to assess the overall health of people like me which, of course, includes mental and spirtual health as well as physical health. Although it seems that I am healthier than many of my colleagues, I didn't find this especially encouraging. Compared to the general public, Methodist clergy have higher instances of heart disease, asthma, high blood pressure and depression. At some point, I am sure someone will explain why this is. But I suspect that it has something to do with the fact that the ministry seems to draw a lot of people-pleasing workaholics who don't pay enough attention to their own lives and families. And in this environment, there are very few voices suggesting that they do otherwise.
There is something not quite right about unhealthy spiritual leaders. An old saying about the blind leading the blind comes to mind...Like I said, I honestly think that I am doing better than average. I work pretty hard at not working hard. And yet, I still sense that I still pour too much time and energy into life-sucking rather than life-giving activities. So pray for us. If for no other reason than to make sure we are taking the time to pray for you.
For further reading about this, here's a link to an article that explains pretty well why so many pastors and congregations are as sick as they are right now http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/08/opinion/08macdonald.html
Monday, August 9, 2010
Double Speak
During the announcements prior to our worship service, I asked the congregation for prayer concerns. One of our members simply said, "We need to pray for the families of the martyrs." The announcement caught me a bit off guard. I assumed that I knew what the man was referring to but Martyr is a big word in the Christian tradition. I hadn't heard it used to describe anything recently so I asked the gentleman to elaborate. He continued, "the ten people who were killed in Afghanistan, they were Christians and it is my understanding that they died because they were accused of proclaiming Jesus."
I had heard about the massacre. I am sure that most of the people in the congregation had as well. But this was the first time that I had heard anything about them being Christian or even that they were there as part of Christian Mission. Of course, part of that was probably me. Perhaps, I hadn't read the story closely enough. But still, I thought it curious. How did I miss that? The media--typically reveling in any news of bloodshed and horror, making the most out of every tasty crumb of pain and suffering--how could I not have heard somewhere that these people died because they were part of a Christian mission effort?
I got up this morning to read more about the incident. The story was already gone from the start page for Google News. The words Afghanistan and Aid appeared on CNN's Homepage but not Christian. I finally found a link that took me to The Washington Post. According to the article there, ten people were slaughtered while working with an organization called Internal Assistance Mission. In fact, it turns out that this is an openly Christian mission effort that has been operating in a deeply conservative Muslim country for forty-four years. Whether they were preaching (unlikely), rendering medical aid or simply offering a cup of water, it would seem that these ten people were doing so in Jesus name. They died for their faith. This would make them Christian Martyrs.
"We are heartbroken by the loss of these heroic, generous people," Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton said in a statement. "We condemn in the strongest possible terms this senseless act. We also condemn the Taliban's transparent attempt to justify the unjustifiable by making false accusations about their activities in Afghanistan." From http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/08/AR2010080801338.html
Not a word about why these people were there... Hillary Clinton is a lifelong Methodist. I have always respected her work ethic and I like her. However, today I'd like to call her cell and tell her that she ought to be ashamed. Failing to honor these people for who they were is a sad commentary on our government and its paranoia and priorities.
While I do not expect the media or the government to use words like "martyr," I would imagine that they would care enough to get the story right. Which they most certainly did at some point. The media and the government knew what had happened. But in the interest of keeping somebody somewhere happy, they made a point of avoiding the references to Christianity--at least as much as they could. The Secretary of State certainly knew that these people died because they were Christian Missionaries. She purposely chose not to mention this in the briefing, probably because she believed that it might be potentially inflammatory.
I understand the paranoia but I suspect that it is both unfounded and finally self-defeating. Many people believe there is an anti-Christian spirit afoot in our country. This kind of thing only serves to fuel the suspicion.
It goes without saying, but let's go ahead and say it anyway...Imagine the outcry had this been a story about Muslim Missionaries slaughtered by Christians...
What is perhaps most important here is taking a moment to honor the good and peaceful work that these people were doing. I haven't heard anyone saying that the Internal Assistance Mission was really a front for the CIA. So I think it is safe to assume that it was not. So what these people were doing was apparently what they've been doing for the past forty-four years. Namely, they were serving others in the name of Jesus Christ, offering hope and peace in the Lord's name. Someone found this threatening enough to take their lives.
Lord have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Lord have mercy.
I had heard about the massacre. I am sure that most of the people in the congregation had as well. But this was the first time that I had heard anything about them being Christian or even that they were there as part of Christian Mission. Of course, part of that was probably me. Perhaps, I hadn't read the story closely enough. But still, I thought it curious. How did I miss that? The media--typically reveling in any news of bloodshed and horror, making the most out of every tasty crumb of pain and suffering--how could I not have heard somewhere that these people died because they were part of a Christian mission effort?
I got up this morning to read more about the incident. The story was already gone from the start page for Google News. The words Afghanistan and Aid appeared on CNN's Homepage but not Christian. I finally found a link that took me to The Washington Post. According to the article there, ten people were slaughtered while working with an organization called Internal Assistance Mission. In fact, it turns out that this is an openly Christian mission effort that has been operating in a deeply conservative Muslim country for forty-four years. Whether they were preaching (unlikely), rendering medical aid or simply offering a cup of water, it would seem that these ten people were doing so in Jesus name. They died for their faith. This would make them Christian Martyrs.
"We are heartbroken by the loss of these heroic, generous people," Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton said in a statement. "We condemn in the strongest possible terms this senseless act. We also condemn the Taliban's transparent attempt to justify the unjustifiable by making false accusations about their activities in Afghanistan." From http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/08/AR2010080801338.html
Not a word about why these people were there... Hillary Clinton is a lifelong Methodist. I have always respected her work ethic and I like her. However, today I'd like to call her cell and tell her that she ought to be ashamed. Failing to honor these people for who they were is a sad commentary on our government and its paranoia and priorities.
While I do not expect the media or the government to use words like "martyr," I would imagine that they would care enough to get the story right. Which they most certainly did at some point. The media and the government knew what had happened. But in the interest of keeping somebody somewhere happy, they made a point of avoiding the references to Christianity--at least as much as they could. The Secretary of State certainly knew that these people died because they were Christian Missionaries. She purposely chose not to mention this in the briefing, probably because she believed that it might be potentially inflammatory.
I understand the paranoia but I suspect that it is both unfounded and finally self-defeating. Many people believe there is an anti-Christian spirit afoot in our country. This kind of thing only serves to fuel the suspicion.
It goes without saying, but let's go ahead and say it anyway...Imagine the outcry had this been a story about Muslim Missionaries slaughtered by Christians...
What is perhaps most important here is taking a moment to honor the good and peaceful work that these people were doing. I haven't heard anyone saying that the Internal Assistance Mission was really a front for the CIA. So I think it is safe to assume that it was not. So what these people were doing was apparently what they've been doing for the past forty-four years. Namely, they were serving others in the name of Jesus Christ, offering hope and peace in the Lord's name. Someone found this threatening enough to take their lives.
Lord have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Lord have mercy.
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