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.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
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.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Deflation
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.
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.
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.
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