TheoSpora

Over the past week I have read several things that made me think or see the world with a different set of lenses. Here are three of them.

Sometimes the Facts Don't Matter : In this Talk of the Nation interview we learn that when people learn facts that are contrary to the "truths" they hold as beliefs, the facts don't change our minds. This got me thinking about the people who get scared when we tell them that truth is relative. It is because truths are often based on the beliefs we hold rather than the facts we know. A fact is true, but a truth is not necessarily a fact.

Speaking of facts, Gravity Doesn't Exist. In this NY Times science article a physicist and string theorist theorizes about gravity and its existence. To make a long story short, he doesn't believe gravity exists. His argument is based on the laws of thermodynamics, and the notion that there is something that causes gravity rather than gravity being a force of its own creation. It is interesting to me that science finds these revolutionary moments around the time something is accepted as a fact, turning what was previously known into a truth.

Finally, Teddy H. builds another one. This one hits a little closer to home. I am glad T.H. has found God again and is building a missional church. However, this reinforces a belief of mine (a truth if you will) that some large churches are built on the personality of the preacher. One of the few reasons I remain a Presbyterian is the focus on lay-lead ministries rather than cults of personality. It is important to me to believe that the community of faith has a voice, a vote and a vocation in making the church work to its fullest potential. I wish T.H. the best; I wish that his experience had opened him to accept a broader theological position; I hope that his betting the farm on expanding so quickly doesn't come back to burn him. I seem to remember him saying that this was a church for downtrodden of society. Moving to the 2000 seat civic center doesn't seem to invite those kind of people. What a quick turn around...

Enjoy

I was not thrilled as I looked at the gray sky before me. A smattering of rain drops pelted my forehead and I frowned a little on the inside. Wandering down the gravel pathway we scoped out a perfect spot for our picnic. We checked the ground for sticks and goose poop. Satisfied that we were safe from both squishy and poking objects we set up camp for the next few hours.

Two blankets, numerous Tupperware containers, a glass of lemonade and four scattered shoes later we settled down to listen to the free jazz concert in City Park. We chatted a little; watched Caitlyn dance and play around the blankets and scoped the area for some friends who we knew were heading our way. The rain held off, save for a few droplets here and there.

Our friends would arrive about twenty minutes later, and our two blanket camp blossomed into five. Wine was poured; food eaten; conversations came and went. We laughed as the two boys and Caitlyn tested the surroundings. They were both about six to ten months younger than her. They were, as it has been said before, all boy.

As the evening wore on, Caitlyn was content to stay on the blanket and watch the world around her. This was a new development and one that my spouse and I welcomed. Caitlyn has never been one to sit still and we were relieved to have some time together without one of us chasing our wild horse.

As the daylight waned, the two young men, no longer enamored with the sticks they were using to dig holes in the ground, noticed a rather large mud puddle across the gravel trail from our picnic spot. They began by poking the puddle with stick, gradually placing their feet into its murky depths. Then the fun began…

Soon afterwards they were the hit of the picnic area, running the length of the puddle, covered in muddy water from their feet to their waistbands. The other picnickers watch with a sense of joy and laughter as the two boys ran faster and the splashes grew larger. Several other children attempted to join in, only to be caught by their parents before their first step could hit the water.

Caitlyn watched this from across the trail. Smiling as the boys moved from one side to the other. She asked if she could join them and we said no. She asked again, and again we said no. To her credit she never cried, never fussed and so when asked a third time, we said sure. We put her on the ground and watched her cross the trail. Caitlyn doesn’t run so much as prance; she lifts her knees up high and kicks her feet out to the side a little. She lined up at one end of the puddle and began running towards puddle, full of elbows and smiles.

The crowd around the puddle held their breath as she hit the edge of the puddle. We watched as the smile was torn from her face replaced with what could only be described as a look of horror. It took her another three steps before she realized that she had made a horrible mistake. Rivulets of muddy water stretched up the back of her legs; her once pink shoes turned a dark shade of brown. On the third step she veered off course and back onto the dry ground, seemingly in shock.

I sometimes wish I had the tenacity and flexibility that Caitlyn demonstrates. She saw something she wanted and went for it. Sometimes we do need to take the risk and experience new things. This is how we learn and grow through our experiences in the world. If we remain comfortable and clean then the world becomes boring and simple. A muddy puddle is a complicated thing depending on how we experience it. For two little boys and the crowd that watched them it was a revelation in joy and unfettered fun. For a little girl and the crowd that empathized with her, it was an uncomfortable experience in a wet sticky muck.

This is where Caitlyn’s flexibility shone like a bright star. It only took three steps into the puddle to realize that it wasn’t for her. She didn’t bother taking the remaining six to eight steps and finish trudging through it. She veered off course and evaluated the situation. Reflection on the decisions we have made, the positions we have taken is crucial to experiencing a novel world and making meaning out of it. One of the greatest sins of modern liberal and conservative church goers may be our inflexibility and the belief that we are always right. Rushing headlong into the mystery and murkiness of faith and theology without reflection we succeed in only making our self muddier and muddier.

As we step together into the novelty of each new moment, what are risks we need to tenacious about and how will we know when to stop and be reflective and flexible about the path we are taking?

The reading this day came Revelation 2: 8-11
‘And to the angel of the church in Smyrna write: These are the words of the first and the last, who was dead and came to life: ‘I know your affliction and your poverty, even though you are rich. I know the slander on the part of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan. Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Beware, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison so that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have affliction. Be faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life. Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches. Whoever conquers will not be harmed by the second death.

From my second to my eighth grade years we lived in the same home in Decatur, Georgia. It was an old ranch style bungalow that, at one point, had its top popped and then lovingly wrapped in lime green asbestos shingles. By the time we moved into the house it was in dire need of updating and my parents set about the task of renovating it from top to bottom. This was a project that last every day from the moment we moved in through the final week before we sold it and moved to Florida.

Our slowly transforming lime green abode was the first house on a block bordered by businesses behind and to the west of us. Thankfully, there was a vacant lot that provided a bit of a buffer between our bedroom windows and the car dealership next door. That vacant lot was ringed with large oak trees and when we first moved in it was neglected, but you could see clearly from the street to the alley in the back. As time wore on, the weeds continued to grow until they formed a canopy of flimsy trees.

It was a wonderful place to play hide and seek or any manner of games that involved chasing another person while being slapped by bushes and branches. Throughout the days, months and years, our constant running wove a path from the street to the alley which enabled us to quickly move from one end of our house to the other sight unseen.

One day, a few years before we moved, I took off out of the back yard with a friend following close behind. I broke out in a full sprint around the corner of our garage and headed towards the path in the back of the vacant lot. Careening through the branches which floated over the edges of the path, I rounded a bend in the path at full speed with my friend only a few steps behind me.


The moment I rounded the corner my eyes widened as I dug my heels in the ground and skidded to stop about a foot from a large spider which sat in the middle of its web spun directly across the trail. My abrupt stop alarmed my friend and, hands out, he pushed into my back as he attempted to avoid running over me. His momentum edged me forward to within inches of the spider and its web. My heart pounded in my chest as I focused on the spider and directed my muscles and body to avoid it at all costs. I felt my body contort into an oddly tall banana shape as my arms curved over the top of the web and my feet felt as though they slid underneath it. I desperately began to backpedal trying to escape, and I felt myself let out a scream as I was being pushed ever closer to the web. Somewhat angry, definitely afraid, I practically climbed over my friend to retreat back the way I came faster than I had ever run before.

For the last two and a half years I spent my time wondering and learning about the emotion of far. During that time, I have been aware of two things, that God often tells us not to be afraid; and that fear is an inescapable human reality and one of the most powerful human emotions and forces in our lives.

To be afraid is to be human. It is to act out of the most basic emotional instincts and reactions to something that threatens us. I think, maybe, in a weird way, God tells us not to be afraid so much mostly because we really can’t help it. You see, there is this little part of our brains that makes the emotion of fear an inescapable reality.

Out of clay, the great potter saw it fit to add a little fear center to our highly evolved brains that makes us squeal like a helpless toddler when something threatening surprises us. This is why the words “do not fear” can often feel out of place. I mean, seriously, has God seen the world lately? All the floods, earthquakes, oil spills, wars, all of the crime we hear reported, and the constant food and medicine recalls. The world can be an overwhelming and scary place, and God has the audacity, when our bodies are hardwired to experience fear, to tell us not to be afraid.

The summer before I began high school, we sold that formerly lime green house and moved to Florida, far away from that frightful vacant lot. It was the first time I ever had a bathroom to myself. It was a three quarter bath, with a tiny shower stall, but it was mine.

When I showered in the morning before school I would often hang my towel over the shower rod so that I could dry myself off without tracking water everywhere in the bathroom. One morning upon finishing my shower, I began to retrieve my towel. As the end of the towel whipped over the rod, I saw that a large brown spider had ridden its way to the top on the tail end of the towel...

The next few moments happened in slow motion as I watched the spider leap off the towel, certain that it was going for my jugular. I pressed my back against one wall as it plummeted into the small shower stall with me, legs splayed into, what I was convinced, was an attack position.

As soon as it hit the floor, I leapt an equal distance out of the shower, simultaneously throwing my towel on top of it. I quickly turned on the shower. Remembering that the rain washed the itsy bitsy spider out and I was going to make sure it washed this one away as well.

Later I went back to retrieve my towel only to find that the spider was gone. For a few days afterwards I had recurring dreams of a sopping wet angry spider stalking me throughout the house…

One of the reasons that fear is so important is that it helps us survive in a world that can sometimes feel overwhelming and threatening. There are things out there, people, places, animals, objects that make the hairs on the backs of our necks stand up. These things make us want to run, to protect ourselves, to somehow escape to live another day.

In the case of our passage from Revelation the threat is the suffering, probably more specifically, the pain and torture that would accompany the suffering. The church at Smyrna recognized that there were threats in their midst; people, institutions, leaders who wanted to do them harm and to make them suffer for what they professed.

Rightfully so, they became afraid. Maybe they insulated themselves from those around them, hiding their faith and beliefs. It is natural to want to run when fear strikes, to sever the relationships that might cause us harm. Fear, left unchecked, can take over our lives and isolate us from people who care about us; it can isolate us from a community of faith, or a family, or even God. Furthermore, fear is contagious. Once something frightening is reported to be true, our imaginations take over and we begin to become more aware and suspicious of our surroundings.


One of the major stories of American history will be the attacks on September 11th. A footnote to those attacks is the five people killed by anthrax sent through the mail about a month afterwards. The reporting of these ominous letters set off a small panic in certain circles of America.

One of the interesting things about humans, or any animal for that matter, is that when we experience the emotion of fear, we become quite self serving. Fear, quite appropriately, leads to activities related to self-preservation and self-importance.

Once the widespread reporting of this credible threat reached a saturation point, a new industry popped up to exploit this goal of self-preservation. Anthrax protection kits became the rage, as stores slapped together a breathing mask, rubber gloves and goggles and marketed them as a cure for our fears. Not to be left behind, purveyors of plastic sheeting and duct tape were boxed together as protection from biological or chemical agents.

The makers of the original duct tape went so far as to create a new product which promised to seal the corners of your windows so that nothing could get in or out. A few months after these attacks we began a war on terror, a war on fear if you will, which continues today.

What is interesting about our war on fear is the tactics begin used; we tell everyone to be more vigilant, to be more aware, essentially to be more afraid of everyone and everything in order to prevent feeling terrorized.

The ironic thing about fighting fear with more fear is that it inevitably leads to greater isolation, suspicion and discord. When we fight fear with fear, our imaginations get the best of us. And ordinary garden spiders suddenly become shadowy figures stalking us in the night; ordinary people become enemies before anything is known about them; and the church isolates themselves from the people around them, pushing away the challenges and possibilities that come with novelty and creativity.

But the amazing thing is that despite all of the times we give in to our fears, God remains faithful. To the church in Smyrna, the command is that they remain just as faithful. That they have hope, even in the midst of their trials.

During my two years of study on the emotion of fear, I came to learn one important thing that helps us understand what God is asking us to realize. That is, that fear and hope are inextricably tied together.

There is no fear apart from hope, because without hope there is little reason to live, to want to survive, to attempt to thrive.

When we are afraid, we are afforded a window of opportunity to remember the things that are important to us. Fear not only saves us from something that threatens us, it also saves us for tomorrow; for all of the relationships that are meaningful to us; for all the places that help us realize God’s presence; for all the dreams that provide meaningful windows into the future.

To be afraid is not the end of the world, it is merely a fact of the world. However, for those of us who believe in an active God, a God that cares for us, a God that provides the possibilities for a hopeful future. Fear can be something positive that reminds us what is worth living for at the end of the day.

The message to the church in Smyrna is the same message that is given to the church today. The world will be a difficult place; there will be times when the obvious response to the things happening around you is fear. Don’t worry though, fear is a natural response to these difficult moments and threatening things; just remember, fear is not the end of things.

Your faith, the faith that sustains you, the faith that gives you strength, the faith that you profess in a living God is more powerful than anything that threatens you. In fact, if you look hard enough at those moments of fear, you will see the hope of God as it plays out in the meaningful moments and relationships of your life. So go out into this world and be afraid, but don’t let fear rule your life. Instead live in the hope born of being a son or daughter of God…

O God,
Our source of strength and life,
We come before you this day,
Humbled by the gifts of your world,
Some of us standing firm in the realities of life we face,
Others of us faltering as world consumes our energy;
Wherever we stand this day, O Lord,
guide our next steps,
enable us to run without growing weary,
strengthen us to walk and not grow faint,
for in these moments where life teems around us,
we stand ready to hear your words and act on your wisdom that guides, heals, transforms and sustains our lives.

O God Most High,
Our world is a mess,
In the pursuit of short-term gains we forget that the world lasts longer than our meager lifespan,
We drill holes in the ground,
Knowing we have little to no plan should disaster strike,
For our efforts we devastate a coast line,
Ruining the lives of fish and fowl,
And the livelihoods of countless people.
Forgive our arrogance and belief that we have the right to conquer your creation.
In the pursuit of personal freedom and gain,
We forget that the world is a much larger place than our own backyard,
Than the interior of our cars,
Than the size of our bank accounts;
As a result we leave the world worse than when we found it;
We take care of our families, of our own;
And our small circle of life is better for it.
But we truly forget what it means to risk, to lead, to step out in faith and love those around us;
Forgive us when we refuse to see past our noses,
When we refuse to get messy;
The world is a messy place, and while we will not clean it up in one generation, we can give the next one a head start.

And so, O Lord, on this day, we try;
We baptize children who may be the next leaders of the church; who may discover answers to questions of faith and science; who may lead us to a greater love, faith and hope in a messy world;

On this day, O Lord,
We commission youth and adults to serve, love and share your hope with the world. We send them forth to do your work; to make the world a better place with each step they take, with each brick they lay and with each word they say. Steady their hands and hearts to be a witness to your love and to receive a witness of love from others.

We ask these things, binding these words to those of our hearts, in the name of Jesus Christ, through the Holy Spirit who emboldens our lives and creates the space within us to be greater than we were yesterday. With one voice, we humbly ask that you would hear our prayer, as we remember the prayer taught to us…

It's been almost three years to the day. My last post came right around the time I began my dissertation. This one comes at the end of that particular road.

A lot has transpired in that time. I became a father. I am a licensed therapist. I am a Doctor of Philosophy. I am a pastor again.

My hope is to ease into this world again. My writing has taken a turn for the academic. This is not altogether a bad thing, just an outcome of the company I have been keeping. Now is the time (and hopefully there is now time) for me to remind myself there is life outside of academia.

I hope to post once or twice a week at this point. The topics will seem similar to those before. I can only hope I am not howling at the wind. Though, if I am, it will be a mighty howl...

grace and peace...

Seriously, who are we? What are we? How did we come to be in this place at this moment in time? I know you can probably ask, and answer, this for yourself. However, think a bit bigger if you will. I am asking about your anthropology.

I know, fairly big word, first post in almost six months, plus I doubt many will read this post anyway (and of those that do, even fewer will respond); yet, doesn’t all theology, to some extent, begin with anthropology? Our experiences of the world, of people, of ourselves provide us with qualities we often ascribe to God.

Yes, we can certainly hope the God we believe in is more than the projections of mere mortals. In fact, that may be our greatest hope, that God is something infinitely more complete than our brains, our experiences, and even our hopes might concoct.

Yet, even these enduring qualities only make sense through our experiences in life. It is said that God is love, but what is love apart from the experiences of the emotion we have had, or apart from the relationships that sparked such emotions? Is the Love/God the entity of Falwellian preaching? Does this enduring/infinite love have limitations as that former preacher might endeavor to assume? Is the Love/God the entity of a schoolboy/schoolgirl crush? How even could we assume to know what love is in order to posit it to the Other?

We see dim reflections in mirrors (according to Paul at least) and in those reflections I would say we assume to know who or what God might be. We posit absolutes where the reflections are nothing more than smudged and fuzzy pictures of reality. In the end, we proclaim who God is without fully understanding or even taking responsibility for what it is we are claiming.

So, then, who do you say we are? Because who you say we are reveals who you say God is as well. After all, those dim reflections are nothing more than smudged self-portraits of often scared and lonely (joyful and hopeful as well) people. Anthropology has much to say about theology and vice versa.

As for me, at this moment in time, my hope lies in two places. First, my hope lies with that smudged self-portrait, in that fuzzy Imago Dei.Second, my hope lies with the realization that without a brighter object than myself, there would be nothing to reflect in the first place.

Grace and Peace…

What if there was an alternative to balance?

I know I said earlier that I wished to give up on balance, to let go of its safe confines and stretch out into a world that needs more than people who can only balance themselves precariously between two relatively distinct points. Work and family, serious and playful, depressed or hopeful, we often set up false dichotomies that lend themselves to the idealization of one particular way of being and also a sense of failure when we cannot achieve relative satisfaction in either domain.

Jim, a reader and commenter here, is retired from his "profession" but now works in an educational setting with kids with special needs. Why (My answer is based on my own thoughts and nothing that Jim has reported to me other than what I have read on his blog, I would expect him to correct anything I have to say about him)? He has worked most of his life and conventional wisdom says that the balanced approach to his life would be one of leisure and "retirement." Therefore, is Jim out of balance? Is he upsetting the apple cart with his approach to life? My sense is Jim has found something meaningful in his life that provides stimulation to the person he is and is becoming. Jim, in my own words, lives harmoniously with his circumstances.

Harmony is my substitute for balance. Where balance seeks a middle ground between two points, harmony seeks to embrace both points as valid and seeks to complement the multiple ways that life unfolds before our eyes. Harmony performs, plays, creates and builds on our lives. It can enrich an otherwise bland performance by altering the experience and the one who does the experiencing. To be in harmony with one's surroundings is to awaken oneself to the world of the moment, rather than looking forward to a different point in time where one must attempt to even out experiences and allay guilt.

I really have nothing against those who strive for balance. Balance can even be a way of living harmoniously with one's life. However, the more I think about harmony, the more I think it can offer an alternative to the pop culture mindset that has embraced balance and shunned grasping for the meaning in the moment. Balance works because we are a rational people. It can even be said to be Biblical, sort of. The greatest commandment is a three-way balancing act, God, self, others. Then again, how can we balance three separate things? There are no three-way teeter totters on the playground.

Maybe the greatest commandment is best enacted as a harmonious part of a life engaged in the moments of our lives. Harmony says that we do not have to sell all we have and give everything to the poor. However, a harmonious life might seek simplicity, might seek to honor God, self and others with the gifts of their life. It might seek to hear the stories of those who hurt and share their own stories of hurt and hope. I have often heard it said that the earth sings of the creation of God. If this is so, shouldn't we take the time to a hum a few bars back to the Creator?

I have seen motorcycles with flags blazing riding down the street in an impromptu parade.

I have briefly surveyed the media's rendition of a memorial service.

I have watched names being read, and wreaths being laid.

I have listened to reports about being prepared for an emergency.

All of these things are meant to remind us to remember. But what is it that we are to remember? Death? Evil? Coming together for a brief second? Economic destruction? Fear-mongering? I'm not sure what I am supposed to feel (or even remember) these days.

Whatever goodwill we gathered has been used and abused. The event we memorialize has been turned into a political stump upon which dissenters and those critical of the current way of handling things are constantly beheaded.

Furthermore, what are we, as "Christians," supposed to do with this day? Undoubtedly some amongst our midst will use it to further the cause of hatred in the world based on religious views; others will use it as a sacrament to inextricably tie Christianity to this particular nation; still some might see it as a prime time for an altar call. Regardless, I have no doubts that Christians everywhere will find some way to interpret this day as a rallying cry for a "God"-fearing vindictive stance to those things that are different.

At a conference this summer I spent some time with a group of people talking about the events that took place at Columbine a number of years ago. One of the sticking points for many "Christians" was an impromptu memorial that happened in a local park after the event. At the memorial, crosses were placed for ALL of the people who died including the two shooters. Those in the community decried the placement of these crosses as an act of insensitivity and they were forcibly removed from the memorial.

When we memorialize things, I think we have a tendency to glamorize them as well. We turn ordinary people into martyrs and perfect them through the reporting of their lives over the public airwaves. However, there are those who commit acts that hurt other people, and they are human beings as well. Just as we deify the lives lost, we also demonize those who take lives. How are we to deal with these people, the ones who commit atrocious acts but are nonetheless also creations of God? We have ignored our responsibility as "Christians" for too long. Instead of being a conscience for this nation, we have become crusaders bent on domination rather than humble servants of a God bigger than we can comprehend.

The people who committed these acts do not have to honored, but their circumstances and their lives need to be remembered as well. Moreover, we need to ask the tough questions that led to the creation of their beliefs and actions. We need to understand both our complicity in the creation of their situation (global poverty and hopelessness among others), and their responsibility for their actions. Christians, above all, are about the business of grace and yet where is the grace in the memorialization of this day? If we are about forgiveness, then where are the preachers and theologians who are crying out for this discipline on this day? If we are about justice and righteousness, then where are the voices who are speaking out against global poverty and economic justice for all people so that some of the conditions that breed hatred can be alleviated? If we are about peace and grace, where are the "Christian" voices that are speaking out against violence, war and terror?

Instead of a day of memorialization this can become a day of dialogue. A time where we can come together and talk about what needs to change in the world so that events like this no longer are necessary. Maybe someday we can realize that behind every religious veil we created to hide or separate ourselves from one another hides a human being who is struggling to make sense of the world, the meaning of life, and their responsibilities.

grace and peace

In late May or early June my spouse and I headed into the mountains for a weekend away from Denver. Our domicile for the weekend was The Spa at Cordillera. We found out after our trip that this was the infamous place where Kobe Bryant's legal troubles began a few years earlier. It was a beautiful spot in the mountains just past Vail and the hotel was comfortable and relaxing (especially because of the deal we got for the weekend).

Our weekend was spent reading in the cool mornings and hiking in the afternoon. We hiked to Hanging Lake, a small alpine lake a mile or so off of the Interstate. I remember being surprised by the sheer number of people on the moderately strenuous trail. Moreover, it opened my eyes to the illiteracy problem in Colorado. The signs were clearly marked with the words "No Pets" (along with the requisite pictorial designation), but we passed our share of leashed and unleashed dogs along the trail. I love dogs, but dislike blatant disregard for rules, so I always feel as though I encounter a grave moral dilemma when these situations occur.

Regardless of my moral quandaries, the hike was beautiful and gave us ample time to test out our new hiking gear and Colorado lungs. I struggled a bit on the mostly vertical trail, but certainly felt rewarded at the end of the trail. If you are ever in Colorado, I would recommend taking the hike in the early summer when the snow melt makes the waterfalls thunder and the resulting mist chills the air. Nothing seems better after a long hike than standing the spray of a waterfall as it cools and soothes your weary muscles.

We chose to spend the final day of our weekend on a different trail near Minturn, Colorado. There is not much to Minturn, save for the large National Forest that backs up to it. The trail we chose to hike that day was meant to take us along a stream up to another mountain lake. However, a mile or two into the hike we found ourselves experiencing the Colorado mud season in all of its glory. At this point in the hike our trail disappeared, the multiple streams of chilled water swallowing it whole, leaving us guessing where to turn next.

Having absolutely no survival skills whatsoever we climbed a hillside and cautiously moved along a game trail that ran parallel to the streams below. When we could see the remnants of a trail below we slowly descended only to find that the trail ended a couple hundred yards upstream. At this point we decided that it was in our best interest to turn around and try another way. We sloshed our way back to the main trail and worked our way back to a fork in the trail.

Turning onto the new trail we were happy to see only one small stream to cross before we could enter a grove of Aspens and hopefully continue on to the lake. All that stood between us and the Aspens was a well-worn log that bridged the stream.

I was raised in the Southeast. I did not learn to say yes or no, but yes ma'am or no sir. I learned to open doors for women, give them my chair and walk on the outside of the curb so that they would not be splashed by cars driving through mischievously planted puddles. Much of this early childhood learning is still implanted on my brain, and on this hike it superseded common sense for some reason.

About halfway across the stream a rock stood solidly in the middle. I, ever the gentlemen, decided that I would plant one foot on the rock and one on the shore and offer my lovely wife a way to brace herself as she crossed the stream. You might able to guess what happened next.

My spouse is a petite woman who stands a good foot shorter and about sixty pounds lighter than me. However, at the moment she reached the middle of the log, the same moment we pulled one another off balance, I could have sworn she was an East German Weightlifter from the early 1980s.

My eyes widened as we began to tilt toward the earth. I could have sworn that something flashed before my eyes. Apparently, as we fell we did not let go of one another until we were too far apart to hold hands any longer. All I can remember now is the rapidly rising earth and my inability to get my hands in front of my face. The runoff of snowmelt in early June is frightfully cold, especially when you end up going nose first into a mountain stream.

Neither of us was seriously hurt. I still nurse two jammed fingers from that day, but they are slowly healing. My pride was wounded more than anything else. I am the guy who dumped himself and his wife into a semi-frigid mountain stream. We laugh about it now, as we did on that June afternoon, even though the mental scars still hurt every now and again. I learned a number of valuable lessons from that experience as well.

When your spouse says she does not need your help crossing a frigid stream, then let her cross it herself (or let him cross it himself). Being a gentleman has its limits. Snow runoff, while experienced in the mist of waterfall is exhilarating; snow runoff, while experienced doing a face plant into a mountain stream is just damn cold. Finally, it is a wonderful feeling to know that I can completely fail at a task and someone out there will still love me.

grace and peace...

For the last ten years, give or a take a few years, I have been concerned about balance. Not the walking on a curb without falling off kind, but the kind of balance that seeks the middle between two points. I have professed this devotion to balance with professors, clients, colleagues and friends as I sought to describe where I am and where I wish to be. If balance was a religion, then I was its pope.

I can't explain why this morning felt different from any other morning. However, as I sat drinking a glass of milk and reading the newspaper my mind began to work with this idea of balance. Suddenly, everything I sought, preached or practiced felt meaningless. Balance felt like a myth, a never-attainable goal that those who are too afraid to succeed or fail cling to in order to find some security.

We have several magnets that cling to our refrigerator door. Four of these magnets have different quotes that speak of love, passion, dreams or humility. Not one of them mentions balance or striking out and finding the middle ground in the great sea of life. Instead, it seems as though the greatest among us have found that life is best lived when we are no longer bound by the shackles of mediocrity; when we can shrug off the limitations that we impose upon ourselves and dare to see the world for what it is, good, bad, ugly or pretty.

It seems to me, that balance is an American myth that seeks to have everything in small enough quantities rather than the fullness of a few things. Monday through Friday (for some people) we strive for the modicum of success that will allow us to live peaceably and buy the things that the television tells us will make us happy. Too much success means too many responsibilities, so balance is sought in the workplace to alleviate the pressure to continually perform at peak capacities. On Saturday we seek to balance the unfulfilled needs of our work through some form of rest or relaxation, realizing by the end of the day that Monday arrives soon and our tenuous balance will be thrown off kilter for another week.

Sunday (for those of us in Christian churches) is generally the time when we seek just enough God to balance out any guilty feelings we may have had during the week. Too much God and our world is shaken to its core, because with too much God we might then have to love without abandon, live to the fullest of our createdness and care to the point where self-centeredness no longer works. When there is too much God we must heed our passion for justice and righteousness through grace, peace and love. Therefore, we find a balance that lets us live unremarkable lives of safety and comfort. I have an unrelenting disdain for bigoted rigid dogmatic forms of Christianity, much like the ones that occupy the limelight these days. But you know what? At least they are passionate and let you know about.

So, if my mythical beliefs about balance can no longer function as a basis for reality. What next? How do I live faithfully within the bounds of my createdness? How do I ensure that my passion does no harm to myself or to others? That seems to be one of keys to a passionate reorientation for me. Namely, how does my passion meet the world where it needs it the most, and as a result novelty, creativity, hope and love can thrive?

Aimless rigid passion seems harmful to the common good, it lacks creativity and emboldens triviality. Triviality, in turn, leads to evil because it cheapens God, humanity and this world we live in. A recent example of trivialization is tying a much needed minimum wage increase into tax breaks for the wealthiest families, this aimless passion for re-election trivializes the lives of those who are trying to make ends meet in an honest way. Politics aside, theological trivialization does far greater harm than any other form I know. Through theological trivialization, humanity is demonized, dogmatized and destroyed through the uncontrolled passion for control over the thoughts and beliefs of individuals.

Passion is needed in a world of mental numbness. However, passion must be guided by love, creativity, hope, grace and peace. This is what makes us stand out amongst our peers. That through our passion, when we leave this world, we leave it a better place, one where the relationships we share filled with the love and care that continually spreads when we are nothing but dust once again.

grace and peace

Interpretation is governed by beliefs, experiences and narratives that inform our ways of seeing. Therefore, when I encounter a text I open myself to each of these governing principles that, in turn, competes and/or coalesces to provide an interpretive outcome. In a sense, I react to a text through these filters which provide the grounds upon which I begin to interpret a particular passage. Personally, I am informed by stories and experiences of inclusion and exclusion. I have found inclusive stories to be more supportive of the overall belief structure that is indicative of Christianity. As a result, when I read particular texts through my constructed lenses of interpretation I am more likely than not to emphasize and look for their inclusive aspects rather than those parts that might express exclusivity. This is my bias, and I acknowledge this freely based on my beliefs about the relationship between God and humanity as revealed in the overall ethos of the Biblical text.

Having discussed how I interpret the things I encounter in my life I want to turn to a couple of passages that, generally speaking, underlie my positions regarding the PUP report. Before doing so, I want to acknowledge that my original post was an attempt to examine the PUP report through a postmodern philosophical lens. This post is not meant to replace or supplement those ideas. Instead, it is an examination of a few biblical sources that serve to inform the theological milieu from which I interpret most everything. These texts are not meant to be a comprehensive examination of the canon and its application to the PUP report. Instead, these texts inform my interpretive ethos and nothing more.

The first passage is Paul's discussion of the body of Christ and its diversity and unity. For me, the basic premise of this passage is that each member of the body performs a different function with regard to the body's interactions with its environment. I interpret this passage two ways. The first interpretation pays attention to the internal functioning of the body as a system. That is, how the body functions with regard to its unity and its diversity. Paul description of diversity makes mention of the various parts of the body (i.e. - eyes, ears, nose, mouth, arms, hands, and so on). Furthermore, he goes on to unify these seemingly disparate pieces into one body that only functions in a healthy manner if all of these parts are working and doing their respective functions. This unification despite disparity reveals how we are to work together in the face of seemingly diverse functions and points of view. Moreover, internal systemic functioning is a necessary component of life so that full engagement with the world can occur.

The second interpretation concerns external systemic functioning. This is the way in which the body of Christ sees, hears, feels, etc. the movements and actions that occur in the world outside itself. When diverse body parts engage the world there is the possibility that multiple interpretations of a particular experience will occur. Without multiple interpretations the experience becomes myopic and stagnant, requiring little engagement or thought. If the only way we could experience the world was through sound, how would that change what we believe about what is occurring before us?

For me, the multiplicity of interpretive possibilities provides the greatest access to God’s relationship with the world. If all we had was my interpretations of texts, I am not sure we could ever fully understand (not that full understanding is achievable) what was said or meant by a particular narrative. Therefore, a diversity of interpretive perspectives is necessary (even those that are harmful, for how will we know a "good" interpretation without a really "bad" one) in order to ensure that the body functions as it can. The PUP report allows for the possibility of voices to be heard that have been silenced out of fear or threat from the rest of the body.

The passage is more a group of passages. These deal directly with Jesus' encounters with ostracized or oppressed peoples. These are the women at the well, the demonized, the poor, widowed or orphaned, the Samaritans and the gentiles. There are more stories than space in this essay. Therefore, I am being rather reductionistic when I refer to them. However, Jesus' dealings with the people in the majority of these stories revolve around recognition, acceptance, and integration.

These stories often begin with a description of the "offensive" person and their relative status in the society and culture. There is a recognition both by the storyteller and Jesus of the outsider status that is often given to the person in question. Jesus' response is generally one of recognition of this status and questioning its appropriateness. There is a movement from recognition of ostracization that provides the necessary contrast to the acceptance that Jesus provides. Sometimes this acceptance comes through a questioning of the status of the individual or even the individual questioning the status of Jesus' thoughts about the situation (think about the woman who responds to Jesus' inquiry about sharing grace with those outside the Jewish faith). Acceptance is often seen in an act that embraces the ostracized or oppressed individual, thus legitimating them before the pubic. Finally, this legitimation is consecrated through an act that integrates the offensive individual back into the societal framework as a new being. Often, at least through my lenses, the integration of the individual takes place through an act on the part of Jesus rather than on the part of the individual. That is, the insider makes the move to accept the outsider back into the fold, often without significant change on the part of the individual in question. The change is often an insider movement that allows more room for the outsider's perspective to be included.

Granted my examples are short and limited in their scope and nature. I am not a biblical scholar and I do not profess to have THE interpretation of these texts and stories. My only hope was to provide a biblical reference or two that informs my overarching theological perspective. I hope it helps, any thoughts and questions are welcome and may help me further understand what I think and believe.

grace and peace

My apologies for not finishing what I started last week. I was studying for my Clinical Social Work Exam. I took it today and I passed. I am now (or soon will be) a licensed therapist in the state of Virginia. Now the next step is to seek a transfer of the license to Colorado.

It is a great relief to have the studying and anxiety behind me. I can't put into words the panic I felt when I sent the test in for grading. Furthermore, I am having difficulty describing the relief I feel now that I know I have passed. There are a lot of people who helped me reach this point. They are friends, family and colleagues and I want to thank them for the roles they played in my formation and development.

I will be out of town for the next few days, and will try and finish this post on interpretation next week. Take care

grace and peace...

A question was raised concerning the position I took in my last post on the PC (USA), the PUP report and postmodernism. The commenter basically asked how I would support the positions I took using Biblical texts as my basis for interpretation. I thought his question was valid; however, I thought it would be better answered in a post rather than a reply to his comment. What I see in his question is larger than Biblical support for a particular position. Instead I interpret his comment as a question regarding sources of insight when making theological claims. I want to broaden his question a bit for several reasons.

First, to choose particular passages to support a particular point of view is to walk a thin line between support and proof-texting (proof-texting is when you pick a verse out of the Bible to support a particular position or rationale; one example concerns what preachers did to support slavery before the civil war). Second, no one creates a theological position from Biblical objectivity. That is, no one goes into an examination of the Bible without prejudices, experiences, thoughts or feelings. Whenever we endeavor to interpret a text, we bring with us a slew of baggage that colors our perceptions. A modern point of view believes that we can divorce ourselves from this baggage and come to a meta-understanding (an interpretation that is good for everyone) of a particular text.

There are several fallacies with this point of view of Biblical interpretation. First, it assumes that there is only one interpretation to a particular passage. Second, it assumes that we can find that one interpretation. Third, it assumes that any bias we might have can be put aside in the interest of the greater good. Finally, it assumes that interpretations cannot change throughout the years.

What this leaves me with is an understanding that no matter how I interpret a passage, there will be as many objections as there are people reading my interpretation. Therefore, what I can do is be aware of my biases and make them a part of the interpretive process so that people can understand both how and why I interpret a particular passage in a particular way. The locating of myself in my social, cultural and historical positions doesn't make my interpretation correct, it just makes it more honest with regard to the experiences I have had in life.

Therefore, let me begin with acknowledging who and where I am to begin fleshing out how I come to my interpretive conclusions. I am a thirty-something white male who was raised in an upper middle class home and continues to live in an upper middle class setting. I have extensive education in clinical social work and am an ordained Presbyterian minister. I consider myself to be a left-leaning moderate who tries to balance social responsibility with personal responsibility. I have worked as a minister, youth director, Christian educator, and psychotherapist. Currently, I am a full-time doctoral student (as if that wasn't evident by all of the garbage in the previous paragraphs) who is studying the relationship between religion and psychology.

My interpretive schema is informed by several criteria. First and foremost, I believe that God is all-loving, but not all-powerful as it is currently defined. I believe that God's power lies in God's ability to fully and completely offer loving alternatives to the decisions human beings make; human beings have complete free-will and can choose not to follow God's alternatives thereby leading to disobedience and the promulgation of evil in this world. Second, I believe that the Bible has a meta-message of relationship, and is ultimately concerned with revealing the ways in which people have encountered God and attempted to reconcile events that have occurred in the world.

I do not believe in the truth of the words, but instead believe in the truth of the experiences and the truth of a God who acts in history in a variety of ways. I do not believe in the inerrancy of Scripture, but I believe in the movement of the Spirit during its writing and copying. I consider myself to adhere to a historical critical method of interpretation that seeks to remember the context but also acknowledge the similarities that surround our situations.

Finally, I believe in the immanence of God, that God is with us, around us, and active in the world. God does not stand outside of reality and is instead a part of the human struggle to find meaning and hope in a world that we have all too often chosen to destroy. God loves, God struggles, God hopes, God cares and God suffers with each of us as we attempt to discover and attend to God's pull in our lives.

My interpretations attempt to take into account ideas of tradition, experience, reason, culture, society and relationships. They are the interpretations of a pastoral theologian, care-giver and counselor who ultimately believes that Christianity, at its best, functions as a reconciling ethos of the individual to God, self and all neighbors.

Now that I have located myself, my next post will deal with particular passages that speak to my position regarding the PUP report.

(Looking back over this post, I must also say that I have truly adopted the doctoral lifestyle and way of thinking. I have heard it said that the true test of whether one is a doctoral student or not is the ability to, when encountering a piece of dog crap on the sidewalk, write ten pages about its relevance and necessity)

grace and peace...

Recently the General Assembly of the PC (USA) passed a resolution that agreed with a report made by the Task Force on Peace, Unity and Purity (the PUP report). This report is intends to help the PC (USA) deal with the ordination of gays and lesbians. Unfortunately, the passage of this report has caused discontent for a number of people who disagree with a "local option" clause in the report. Most of the rants I have read about the passage of the PUP report amount to little more than modern interpretations of religious dogma rather than honest appraisals of the underlying philosophy of the report. Furthermore, these rants tend to come from a more conservative cohort, who incidentally, also desires to embrace the "emergent movement" with its postmodern underpinnings.

Rather than continue the current course of "saber-rattling" that is happening with a number of more theologically conservative Presbyterians, I want to look at the local option issue through the lens of the postmodern phenomena that I have been discussing lately. I will use three of the four phenomena to examine this report. These three phenomena include: the disavowing of meta-narratives, the dependency on rationalization as a means of interpretation, and the emergence of new social movements. My take on the passage of the PUP report is that it is the most philosophically postmodern decision the PC (USA) has made in recent years.

First, the PUP report acknowledges the deep differences that we hold as a diverse body of theological minds and hearts. The committee was painstakingly chosen for their diverse background and theological stances so that representation by a differing number of interest groups was evident. It is my understanding that this final report was unanimously agreed upon by the members of the group. The make-up of the committee helps us begin to understand the difficulty with establishing one Presbyterian meta-narrative. Each person entered the group with a distinct Presbyterian narrative that informed their positions, decisions and outlooks. These narratives were brought together in order to derive some form of consensus about the possibilities concerning the ordination of gays and lesbians in the PC (USA). The resulting report pays attention to the notion that we are a diverse body and that as a diverse body developing one opinion that will satisfy everyone fully is improbable.

Furthermore, to attempt to establish one meta-narrative to inform and guide all Presbyterians is create an authoritarian structure that leaves little room for the mystery of God to work in the midst of the church. The local option issue, decried by a number of postmodern wannabes, is the best course for a church that is informed by a multitude of possible narratives. Moreover, its passage by the General Assembly means that the church IS informed by postmodern sensibilities and in tune with the philosophical nature of the cultural ethos that surrounds us.

Second, the PUP report attempts to eschew the certainty of rational thought by realizing the difficult and heartfelt faith of a multitude of Presbyterians. I can only imagine the difficult (and yet somehow decent) conversations this committee endured through the last two or so years. To create a document that attempts to bridge the numerous rational gaps created in traditional arguments about the ordination of gays and lesbians is ambitious. However, the language and presentation of the document seems to incorporate more than mere rational thought; instead it attempts to relate the multiple hearts and faiths that created the PUP report. Furthermore, rationality is not eschewed entirely; instead it is given a place at the table, just not the head seat.

Numerous attempts have been made so far to rationally decide the "options" churches have as a result of the passage of the PUP report. The problem with most of these options is that they create rational categories for a multi-modal document. Providing rational solutions to a relational document is misguided at best and detrimental to the denomination at worst. Furthermore, it creates a dogmatic extremism that thrusts these churches into a modern philosophical "my way or the highway" point of view. Rational dogmatism is one of the reasons why the church is mocked by younger generations these days. Moreover, it is far from a postmodern position that generally emphasizes relational modes of being over religious modes of being.

Third, the PUP reports allows for the possibility of new social movements that have the local flavor of congregations. The local option gives credence to the multiplicity of narratives and forms of relationality that are prevalent in our churches. By having an option, churches and presbyteries can be guided by the movement of the Spirit in their midst, rather than being tediously tied to a meta-narrative that misinforms their faith. The local option implies that God is bigger than the narratives we wish to tie God to, and that their may be more than one way of interpreting God presence in our midst. Through the possibility of local arrangements, the church embraces its postmodern context and gives hope to those who have been disenfranchised for many years.

Finally, I want to pay some attention to the "emergent conversation" that has been informing the positions of many churches and ministers for a while. In the PC (USA) there are some people who have become enamored with this movement. Furthermore, some of these ministers are the first to provide a reactionary negative response to the passage of the PUP report.

First, my understanding of the "emergent conversation" is that it is an attempt to apply postmodern ways of being to a thoroughly modern church. Therefore, most "emergent" gatherings are based upon the view that relationship has primacy over religious dogma. The PUP report seems to give credence to relationship in the same manner. Furthermore, given the multi-modal form of worship and the gentility that most "emergent" orthodoxies possess (I say this knowing that some churches that claim to be emergent are merely re-packaged versions of vacuous and harmful theological conditions that seek popularity rather than change) a "local option" would suit them just fine, because it allows for the relationship to dictate the beliefs of the gathering, rather than the beliefs dictating the relationships we make. Finally, my sense of a true "emergent" church is that it is an attempt to continue conversation despite obvious differences in experience, theology, and modes of faith.

True emergent thought brings people together, rather than separates them from one another.

The promise of postmodernity is not that everyone will agree in the end. Instead the promise is that we will love one another despite the fact that or even because we disagree. Furthermore, that love does not seek to make your experience and faith the same as my experience and faith; instead it seeks to allow me the space to find the voice of God and voice of love in my life while maintaining the relationships we share.

grace and peace

I will be continuing to study for my Social Work Licensure exam over the next few weeks. I will post when I need a break or if something strikes me as comment-worthy. The test is on the 26th and I am truly frightening by the amount and scope of the material I still have to learn...

This "final" essay will deal with the postmodern phenomenon concerning newly emergent social movements. I would propose that these new social movements can have a positive and negative impact on the way the world works. These social movements are, more often that not, local organizations that share particular narratives or concerns for particular narratives. This can have a great deal of impact on society. I think the bumper sticker that states "think globally, act locally" sums up this phenomena succinctly. We have more global information which makes the world a smaller place, but we have more regional specialization which makes the world more fragmented as well. It is the idea of specialization that I want to attend to first.

Several movements in the modern/postmodern church embody this phenomena. The most obvious is the contemporary/traditional worship split in most congregations. The division into preferential worship styles is a small example of how we are beginning to cater to the different narratives that people bring with them. There is nothing wrong with either of these worship styles (both can be equally meaningful or vacuous depending on how they are pulled off); however, what happens when the division of worship styles becomes a division in the congregation? What happens when the "traditional" folks don't know any of the "contemporary" people?

It seems to me that catering to individual needs in the context of the "body of Christ" will only serve to highlight differences rather than create the possibility of cohesion. This does not mean that individuality shouldn't be a part of the worship and life of the church, but the question is more about how individuality and community should mutually reinforce one another rather than detract from one another. The error I see is that we have created bodies of Christ within the context of what is supposed to be a body of Christ. That is, within one congregation new social organizations emerge that highlight the different needs of different congregation members and instead of dealing with them as a community of the whole, we might just let them go off and form their organization that functions within the walls of the whole, but is not really accepted as a part of the whole.

Sticking with our body metaphor, it is as though we are walking down the street and all of a sudden our right foot gets a hankering to take a different path than the rest of the body. So instead of working together to understand why the right foot might have a good idea or why some of its concerns might be valid we just hack off the foot and let it go its own way while we continue down our intended path. The right foot, regardless of its disembodied state, is still ours, it just no longer has a vital connection to the body as a whole and both move slower without each other. Thus, we have little in common save for a few strands of DNA and a corresponding wound.

Furthermore, as churches separate along these traditional/contemporary lines, what is to keep them from further separating? Why not a service for those members who prefer country music with ad hoc prayers and sermons under 12 minutes? This is the danger of increased specialization. Maybe not quite as absurd as my example, but we do end up catering to so many needs, wants or desires that we forget about the call to live in conversation with one another, not just with the ones who are like us or who we happen to like.

What is answer then? How are we to celebrate our togetherness and our separateness? How are we to understand the different needs and styles and narrative formulations that are present in the bodies of Christ that are called together? I am not altogether sure that we can answer this question in a manner that befits both the reality of our postmodern condition and the call to be the body of Christ. We are already a highly fractured religion even before we consider the internal fractured realities that individual congregations face.

I have to wonder if postmodernism might provide some of the answers we seek. If we head back to the phenomenon that originated this brief missive -- newly emerging social movements -- the word social stands out to me. If these new movements are indeed social in nature then a prerequisite is conversation, not agreement, but conversation. It means that regardless of how different the ideas are there is a commitment to the interpersonal. Moreover, to commit to the interpersonal is to commit to finding ways of remaining in conversation even when our views or our contexts may diverge completely.

We will always gather around people with whom we share a commonality. It is in our nature (or nurture) to want to be comfortable. However, the church has never been a place for comfort, and where it is change is necessary. The same goes for individuals and the movements they adhere to. Creating a new social movement that addresses the needs, desires and wants of a local context is wonderful. The "emerging church" can be an example of that. However, creating something separate in order just to be separate from "those people" or "their worship" or "that congregation" is not postmodern it is merely selfish. We cannot converse without a partner. Furthermore, there is nothing interpersonal when it just caters to the personal, nothing social when there is only one group doing the socializing.

The greatest opportunity that comes in the phenomenon of new social movements is the promise of new ways of talking about old problems. However, both the new social and old social must find a way to talk or a subject that both agree are important or both are just wasting air and contributing to global warming through the noxious gasses they emit when they sit and complain about one another.

There is one other hope that I will mention briefly. That hope is found in the idea that we are different and that we learn, worship and love differently. So much so that these new movements can awaken us to things that we have long denied or ignore in the interest of decorum or order. In conversation we may just find the new breath we seek when we enter the doors of a house of worship again or for the first time.

grace and peace...