Well, I've been away from the blog for awhile. The fall has been full and I've focused my writing time on my thesis for my doctoral program (not as successfully as I might like). Today seems like a good day to jump back in.
I was home all day today, mostly resting from the impact of what I'm sure my doctor would tell me is a virus. So, following the orders I could hear without him saying it, I made sure I drank plenty of liquids and I rested. The resting part wasn't hard!
The irony of my day did not hit me until this evening. Here I am at home resting comfortably with a mild virus that will be gone quickly. I'll soon be back to my normal, healthy life (in other words, by tomorrow). I don't need to take any medication. I don't need to see the doctor. I don't need to worry about my health insurance. All of this on World AIDS Day, a day on which we remember the millions in the world who live with HIV/AIDS and the tragic loss of so many who have died because of this disease.
Perhaps what bothers me the most at the moment is that I did not spend any time today (until this evening) remembering or praying for those living with and dying from AIDS. It never entered my mind. I suspect I'm not alone. For those of us not impacted on a daily basis, it is too easy to forget. I find it difficult to forgive myself for forgetting because I lost a beloved uncle in 1999. Although the cause of his death was a heart attack, it had been brought on in large part because he had been living with AIDS for many years (15 or so). How could I not think of Gene today? How could I not pray for his soul and the souls of so many others? Over 33 million people in the world live with AIDS. It is so important to remember.
Wanting to make up for not remembering throughout the day I went on the Internet and googled "World AIDS Day." There were more sites than I could possibly look at this evening, but I found a couple of sites that struck me as important.
One was a video for World AIDS Day from Lambeth Palace featuring the Archbishop of Canterbury. While I'm not a big fan of the Archbishop I appreciate what he is doing through this video. It's not the most exciting video you will find (definitely too slow to appeal to younger generations), but the conversation he has with the four women who deal with AIDS every day in their lives and their work is important to hear.
At one point in the video the Archbishop says, "The Body of Christ lives with HIV." Yes. That's true. And this is why we need to remember on World AIDS Day. The church, the Body of Christ, is filled with all sorts of people: black, white, Asian, rich, poor, middle class, gay, straight, bisexual, etc., etc. It certainly is filled with people who live with AIDS. If we accept that we are brothers and sisters in Christ, that we are members of the same body, then as long as one member lives with AIDS, we all live with AIDS. I don't understand this to mean that we all suffer from HIV/AIDS equally. We clearly do not. I understand this to mean that we all share responsibility for remembering those who have died from AIDS, caring for those who live with AIDS, advocating for better healthcare for those with HIV/AIDS (especially in the global south where so many suffer), teaching our children ways to prevent the spread of AIDS, encouraging research that will produce a cure for AIDS, and praying for those who live with AIDS.
Here's the challenge I am setting for myself: What can I do during Advent that will have some impact? What can I do to make a tangible difference? I have some ideas, but perhaps I'll share those in another posting.
The second site I found helpful contained a variety of prayers offered by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (there are links on this page for other information on HIV/AIDS, some of which is outdated). What I want to offer from the ELCA site is a beautiful and comprehensive prayer that articulates a vision of a loving, merciful God, of a community bonded together in hope and purpose, and of a society in which barriers are broken down so that creation is whole. This prayer comes from the Maryknoll sisters of the San Salvador Diocesan HIV/AIDS program and the Ecumenical Advocacy Alliance. Perhaps you can pray this prayer this evening or whenever you read this. We don't, after all, need to restrict our prayers concerning HIV/AIDS to one day a year.
God of all compassion,
Comfort your sons and daughters
Who live with HIV.
Spread over us all your quilt of
Mercy,Love and Peace.
Open our eyes to your presence
Reflected in their faces.
Open our ears to your truth
Echoing in their hearts.
Give us the strength
To weep with the grieving,
To walk with the lonely,
To stand with the depressed.
May our love mirror your love
For those who live in fear,
Who live under stress and
Who suffer rejection.
Mothering, fathering God
Grant rest to those who have died
And hope to all who live with HIV.
God of life, help us to find the cure now
And help us to build a world in which
No one dies alone and where
Everyone lives accepted
Wanted and loved.
Amen.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
How Do We Find Unity in the Midst of Animosity and Division
The current tenor of the presidential campaign has become disturbing. Negative political campaigning is not new in the United States. Historians can point back to the early 19th century to find negative (and untrue) claims made about opponents.
This year feels different and, in ways, frightening. On the one side we hear angry outbursts against Barack Obama at Republican rallies, including reports of people yelling "Kill him!" On the other side, people at Democratic rallies boo when they hear John McCain's name and some are accusing McCain of being the next George Wallace.
These reactions are caused to some extent by current political ads and accusations. According to an article in today's Wall Street Journal online edition ("Hopes Quickly Fade for a Postpartisan Era"), Democrats are accusing the McCain campaign of character assassination and Republicans are increasing security at campaign offices because of acts of vandalism and intimidation by Obama supporters.
While the line between reality and misperception is very blurry here, I believe the cause of so much unrest runs deeper than the current political campaign. Both the campaign and the uncertain times in which we live stoke the fire of fear and anxiety about the unknown or the unfamiliar. The still burning embers of discrimination and prejudice kindles the rage and hopelessness that can make some feel trapped while they watch others prosper.
Pollster Peter Hart, quoted in the article referenced above, asks a profound question: "How do you knit a nation back together with this kind of animosity?"
I'd really like to answer this question by pointing to the Church. Perhaps you might remember that old song which I sang growing up, "They will know we are Christians by our love." For years I said that one of the characteristics I appreciated about Anglicans was our willingness and ability to hold together a variety of theological and doctrinal perspectives within a common practice of worship and community. I believed the Anglican Communion stood as a witness of unity to the rest of the Church and the world.
For anyone who has been paying attention the past few years, the Anglican Communion is hardly a witness of unity. Anglicans seem to be caught in the same cycle of fear, anxiety, anger, and accusation that characterizes the presidential campaign. I'd like to claim that we are at least a bit more polite when we point the finger at "the other side" but I'm not sure that's true.
Paraphrasing Archbishop Desmond Tutu (who once wrote of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that he was not optimistic about peace but, because of his Christian faith, he was hopeful), I'll write here that I'm not optimistic about how we knit our nation together or how we restore the Anglican Communion ... but I am hopeful.
My hope is found not in the larger society or communion, but in my local congregation. In a recent forum discussion on a Sunday morning a group of parishioners and I listed the variety of ways we are diverse here in Exeter. While on the surface most of us look the same (this part of New Hampshire is about 96% white) when we dig deeper we find a great many differences in background, family status, economic status, worldviews, and theological perspectives (just to name a few).
Despite our differences, we seem to have found a way to be in community with each other. I'd love to list the reasons for that, but I'm not sure I can, not in a simple way at least. In a variety of ways we manage to hold together the community while also remaining open to what is new and possible. We both maintain the boundaries and live inclusively. We are certainly not perfect and we have had our low points. People have come into the community and people have left. Through it all, we just keep trying.
So, how do you knit a nation back together with this kind of animosity?
I always find these words from the letter to the Colossians a helpful reminder.
As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:12-17)
What might happen if we lived this way? What difference might it make? I'm not sure I'm optimistic, so I'll stick with hope. And next time I'm in conversation with someone with whom I disagree, I'll start trying to follow these words myself.
This year feels different and, in ways, frightening. On the one side we hear angry outbursts against Barack Obama at Republican rallies, including reports of people yelling "Kill him!" On the other side, people at Democratic rallies boo when they hear John McCain's name and some are accusing McCain of being the next George Wallace.
These reactions are caused to some extent by current political ads and accusations. According to an article in today's Wall Street Journal online edition ("Hopes Quickly Fade for a Postpartisan Era"), Democrats are accusing the McCain campaign of character assassination and Republicans are increasing security at campaign offices because of acts of vandalism and intimidation by Obama supporters.
While the line between reality and misperception is very blurry here, I believe the cause of so much unrest runs deeper than the current political campaign. Both the campaign and the uncertain times in which we live stoke the fire of fear and anxiety about the unknown or the unfamiliar. The still burning embers of discrimination and prejudice kindles the rage and hopelessness that can make some feel trapped while they watch others prosper.
Pollster Peter Hart, quoted in the article referenced above, asks a profound question: "How do you knit a nation back together with this kind of animosity?"
I'd really like to answer this question by pointing to the Church. Perhaps you might remember that old song which I sang growing up, "They will know we are Christians by our love." For years I said that one of the characteristics I appreciated about Anglicans was our willingness and ability to hold together a variety of theological and doctrinal perspectives within a common practice of worship and community. I believed the Anglican Communion stood as a witness of unity to the rest of the Church and the world.
For anyone who has been paying attention the past few years, the Anglican Communion is hardly a witness of unity. Anglicans seem to be caught in the same cycle of fear, anxiety, anger, and accusation that characterizes the presidential campaign. I'd like to claim that we are at least a bit more polite when we point the finger at "the other side" but I'm not sure that's true.
Paraphrasing Archbishop Desmond Tutu (who once wrote of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that he was not optimistic about peace but, because of his Christian faith, he was hopeful), I'll write here that I'm not optimistic about how we knit our nation together or how we restore the Anglican Communion ... but I am hopeful.
My hope is found not in the larger society or communion, but in my local congregation. In a recent forum discussion on a Sunday morning a group of parishioners and I listed the variety of ways we are diverse here in Exeter. While on the surface most of us look the same (this part of New Hampshire is about 96% white) when we dig deeper we find a great many differences in background, family status, economic status, worldviews, and theological perspectives (just to name a few).
Despite our differences, we seem to have found a way to be in community with each other. I'd love to list the reasons for that, but I'm not sure I can, not in a simple way at least. In a variety of ways we manage to hold together the community while also remaining open to what is new and possible. We both maintain the boundaries and live inclusively. We are certainly not perfect and we have had our low points. People have come into the community and people have left. Through it all, we just keep trying.
So, how do you knit a nation back together with this kind of animosity?
I always find these words from the letter to the Colossians a helpful reminder.
As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:12-17)
What might happen if we lived this way? What difference might it make? I'm not sure I'm optimistic, so I'll stick with hope. And next time I'm in conversation with someone with whom I disagree, I'll start trying to follow these words myself.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Despite Disappointment, All Will Be Well
Living faithfully in the 21st century village can be especially challenging when our hopes our dashed, whether that disappointment comes from a person, a group, or an institution. As human beings, we place our trust and hope in others. When they don't live up to our expectations, it can put cracks in our faith.
I'm pondering this because of the quick and dramatic demise of the Chicago Cubs in the postseason. The team's failure probably should not be a surprise. After all, the Cubs have not won the World Series since 1908 and have not even been in the Series since 1945. However, this season the Cubs were 97-64, the best record in the National League. They won the Central Division for the second year in a row (the only time they've managed that), and they had strong pitching and some excellent hitters. Being 100 years since their last World Series win, this seemed like it could be a magical year.
Of course, it didn't happen. As I went to bed on Saturday night as the game started (10:00 Eastern time, too late for me when I need to get up early on Sunday), I heard my son's anguish in the first inning at the game started to fall apart. Although game 3 of the series against the Dodgers may have been the best game the Cubs played, the result was no different. They lost the game and the series. They are done.
As fans of the Red Sox will know from the years prior to 2004, this is heartbreaking. It isn't simply that the Cubs lost. It is the way they did it: errors, walks, and poor hitting. They played their worst games of the year in the games that counted the most.
So, those of us who are Cubs fans are facing another long winter of disappointment. "Wait 'til next year" is not comforting at times like this. Our faith and hope in the Cubs has been cracked and they will need to earn it all over again.
Having just written that, I can already feel myself pondering the hope that comes in February with the beginning of Spring Training. There will be a next year and whether the Cubs win it next year or not, ultimately fans need to believe that it is possible.
So, what does this have to do with living faithfully in the world? What it says to me is that earthly things will often disappoint us. Everything in this world is fallible. That is why we need something or someone in whom we can place our ultimate trust.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes about the difference between that which is perishable and that which is imperishable (see chapter 15). To put it another way, he is comparing the earthly with the heavenly. The earthly is perishable, it will fall away. The heavenly is imperishable, it will continue eternally.
As a Christian, I need to understand that when I place my trust in the Cubs or anything in this world, I am likely to be disappointed at some point. We are all human, after all. However, when I place my trust in Jesus, I am placing my trust in the One who is the bridge between the perishable and the imperishable. Jesus, human and divine, will not let me down (he may not do everything the way I want, but he won't disappoint me and he certainly won't "lose the series in dramatic fashion").
As Paul writes, "But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:57-58).
So, the Cubs blew it. I'm disappointed and it will be hard to trust them next year. But I'll regain my hope because life is more than the Cubs. That's why I need to be a Christian. So I can look at the world and trust, to use the words of Julian of Norwich, that someday "all will be well."
I'm pondering this because of the quick and dramatic demise of the Chicago Cubs in the postseason. The team's failure probably should not be a surprise. After all, the Cubs have not won the World Series since 1908 and have not even been in the Series since 1945. However, this season the Cubs were 97-64, the best record in the National League. They won the Central Division for the second year in a row (the only time they've managed that), and they had strong pitching and some excellent hitters. Being 100 years since their last World Series win, this seemed like it could be a magical year.
Of course, it didn't happen. As I went to bed on Saturday night as the game started (10:00 Eastern time, too late for me when I need to get up early on Sunday), I heard my son's anguish in the first inning at the game started to fall apart. Although game 3 of the series against the Dodgers may have been the best game the Cubs played, the result was no different. They lost the game and the series. They are done.
As fans of the Red Sox will know from the years prior to 2004, this is heartbreaking. It isn't simply that the Cubs lost. It is the way they did it: errors, walks, and poor hitting. They played their worst games of the year in the games that counted the most.
So, those of us who are Cubs fans are facing another long winter of disappointment. "Wait 'til next year" is not comforting at times like this. Our faith and hope in the Cubs has been cracked and they will need to earn it all over again.
Having just written that, I can already feel myself pondering the hope that comes in February with the beginning of Spring Training. There will be a next year and whether the Cubs win it next year or not, ultimately fans need to believe that it is possible.
So, what does this have to do with living faithfully in the world? What it says to me is that earthly things will often disappoint us. Everything in this world is fallible. That is why we need something or someone in whom we can place our ultimate trust.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes about the difference between that which is perishable and that which is imperishable (see chapter 15). To put it another way, he is comparing the earthly with the heavenly. The earthly is perishable, it will fall away. The heavenly is imperishable, it will continue eternally.
As a Christian, I need to understand that when I place my trust in the Cubs or anything in this world, I am likely to be disappointed at some point. We are all human, after all. However, when I place my trust in Jesus, I am placing my trust in the One who is the bridge between the perishable and the imperishable. Jesus, human and divine, will not let me down (he may not do everything the way I want, but he won't disappoint me and he certainly won't "lose the series in dramatic fashion").
As Paul writes, "But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:57-58).
So, the Cubs blew it. I'm disappointed and it will be hard to trust them next year. But I'll regain my hope because life is more than the Cubs. That's why I need to be a Christian. So I can look at the world and trust, to use the words of Julian of Norwich, that someday "all will be well."
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Eradicating Poverty: Let's Stop "Plugging the Holes" So We Can Repair the Foundation
Tonight, as September 25, draws to a close, I am pondering two crises.
The first is one most Americans are pondering tonight: the failures of investment banks on Wall Street and the proposed $700,000,000,000 federal government bailout. As with everyone, I am staggered by the immensity of the crisis and worried about the implications for both the present and the future. Will the bailout succeed? Who will suffer because resources dedicated to the bailout will not be available for those who live on the economic margins of our society?
The second crisis is much less immense, but no less troubling. Last week I attended a meeting organized by a local New Hampshire state senator to discuss the heating oil crisis and what the state government was prepared to do to help citizens buy enough heating oil to keep their homes warm this winter. In 2007, the average grant given by the state government for fuel assistance was $633. While the hope is to give more this year because of the sharp increase in the price of oil, the reality is that the fuel assistance will not be nearly enough. The 2007 fuel assistance grant would provide approximately 25% of the oil needed to heat a home in 2008-2009. What are people supposed to for the remaining three-quarters of the winter?
As I ponder these crises I am struck by the realization that the responses to each do not really solve anything. Each response attempts to "plug a hole in the dam" but does nothing to repair the various cracks in the foundation that supports the dam and makes it strong. We are hoping to fix the symptoms while we avoid the underlying causes. If we continue this way, nothing will change.
The Episcopal Church dedicated today as a day of prayer, fasting, and witness for the end of poverty in our world. This call relates to the first of the Millennium Development Goals: eradicate extreme poverty and hunger. These goals were adopted in 2000 by the United Nations with the hope that they would be fulfilled by 2015. So, we're halfway there and all we're doing is plugging holes while we avoid the real changes that must be made.
In his book Everything Must Change: Jesus, Global Crises, and a Revolution of Hope* Brian McLaren compares the "four spiritual laws of theocapitalism" (money worship) with the four spiritual laws of the kingdom of God economy.
Without going into the details of the laws here, let me list some of the characteristics and qualities of theocapitalism (note, he is not indicting the corporations, but the "spiritual ideology" that drives our society):
The first is one most Americans are pondering tonight: the failures of investment banks on Wall Street and the proposed $700,000,000,000 federal government bailout. As with everyone, I am staggered by the immensity of the crisis and worried about the implications for both the present and the future. Will the bailout succeed? Who will suffer because resources dedicated to the bailout will not be available for those who live on the economic margins of our society?
The second crisis is much less immense, but no less troubling. Last week I attended a meeting organized by a local New Hampshire state senator to discuss the heating oil crisis and what the state government was prepared to do to help citizens buy enough heating oil to keep their homes warm this winter. In 2007, the average grant given by the state government for fuel assistance was $633. While the hope is to give more this year because of the sharp increase in the price of oil, the reality is that the fuel assistance will not be nearly enough. The 2007 fuel assistance grant would provide approximately 25% of the oil needed to heat a home in 2008-2009. What are people supposed to for the remaining three-quarters of the winter?
As I ponder these crises I am struck by the realization that the responses to each do not really solve anything. Each response attempts to "plug a hole in the dam" but does nothing to repair the various cracks in the foundation that supports the dam and makes it strong. We are hoping to fix the symptoms while we avoid the underlying causes. If we continue this way, nothing will change.
The Episcopal Church dedicated today as a day of prayer, fasting, and witness for the end of poverty in our world. This call relates to the first of the Millennium Development Goals: eradicate extreme poverty and hunger. These goals were adopted in 2000 by the United Nations with the hope that they would be fulfilled by 2015. So, we're halfway there and all we're doing is plugging holes while we avoid the real changes that must be made.
In his book Everything Must Change: Jesus, Global Crises, and a Revolution of Hope* Brian McLaren compares the "four spiritual laws of theocapitalism" (money worship) with the four spiritual laws of the kingdom of God economy.
Without going into the details of the laws here, let me list some of the characteristics and qualities of theocapitalism (note, he is not indicting the corporations, but the "spiritual ideology" that drives our society):
- Progress is measured by rapid growth in the short-term. One must do everything possible to achieve the highest growth and increased productivity, whatever the cost.
- Happiness and serenity are found through possession and consumption. We need to own more. We need the latest and best product. We consume as much as possible and throw away the rest.
- Competition is good. Some are going to win and some are going to lose. So, make sure you win.
- Freedom to prosper is more important than accountability. There is no moral code here and no sense of responsibility to anyone other than ourselves.
Compare this with the characteristics and qualities of the "kingdom of God economy" advocated by Jesus:
- In place of economic growth, Jesus offers a new economy based on good deeds for the common good. We are called to a higher concern than ourselves. We are called to dedicate resources to the common good, especially to the needs of the poor and the marginalized. Sustainability is more important than growth. For a biblical example, see Luke 12:13-21.
- Happiness comes not through possession and consumption but through gratitude and sharing. Gratitude, McLaren writes, is "an act of defiant contemplation" because gratitude celebrates what you have, not what you don't have. If I am grateful for what I have, I don't need more to make myself happy. And once I'm happy with what I have, I can share it with others so that everyone receives a portion. For a biblical reference, see Mark 6:30-44.
- Salvation comes not through winning but through seeking justice. "Happy are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled," Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:6). The paradox here is that seeking justice for all, not winning the competition, will finally bring true prosperity to all. For a biblical reference, see Matthew 20:20-28.
- Freedom comes through collaboration, through the rich and the poor coming together to build community. As McLaren writes, for Jesus "both the rich and the poor need saving; one needs liberation from addictive wealth and the other, liberation from oppressive poverty. Part of the work of the kingdom of God is to turn them from their ideologies of exploitation and victimization to a vision of collaboration." For a biblical reference, see Luke 19:1-10.
If we are going to eradicate extreme poverty and hunger it is going to take much more than plugging holes to avert a crisis. It is going to take systemic change, change that begins with individuals and communities who choose to live with a different set of values. We need to see ourselves as sustainers instead of consumers, as collaborators instead of competitors, as sharers instead of hoarders, and as justice seekers instead of self-seekers. We need to work not simply for ourselves but for the common good. We need to answer Jesus' call to repent and live in the divine reality he calls the kingdom of God.
Will we make any real change if we do all of this? I don't know. All I know is that we have a responsibility to try.
*Brian McLaren, Everything Must Change: Jesus, Global Crises, and a Revolution of Hope, Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Press, 2007, references and quotes above found on pages 189-223.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Responding Faithfully in Difficult Economic Times
Earlier this week I attended a meeting of the Seacoast Convocation of the Diocese of New Hampshire. This is a regular meeting of lay and clergy representing the Episcopal congregations in the Seacoast region of the state.
The primary presentation was the 2009 diocesan budget. That subject, in and of itself, was not particularly relevant to most people, even those who are active Episcopalians in the diocese. The presentation, however, led to an interesting discussion about the state of the economy and how churches respond to this. As with all other institutions and organizations, the chaos on Wall Street, the crisis in home mortgages, the government bailouts, and the concern that things will get worse before they get better has a profound impact on how we plan for the coming year. Will investment income remain stable? Will the giving of our parishioners, which is how most congregations fund their ministries, decrease?
On the one hand, this is an institutional issue and really doesn't have much to do with the intersection of church and society. On the other hand, it has much to do with how Christians, and people of other religions, live faithfully in the world today.
Near the end of the discussion, one lay person made a telling and challenging remark (his intention wasn't to challenge the clergy, but any one who did not hear it as a challenge was not really listening). He said something along the lines of, "I'm looking forward to hearing sermons about the economy and the choices that we as Christians need to make. So many of our problems today are a result of greed. This is a preaching opportunity."
Ironically, it's not too often that clergy hear a plea for sermon topics. That probably has to do more with clergy not asking for input than it does with lay people not being willing to offer an opinion.
What is the preaching opportunity here? His comment about greed in our economic system clearly points to a characteristic of our nation that bothers many. The people who participate in the Seacoast Convocation and vast majority of those who attend our churches are not people making a lot of money from the stock market. Most are middle class people who work each day. Living on the Seacoast, most have been successful, but they look at the nation in which we live and they feel a deep anxiety. The stock market is crashing, investment banks are failing, the government, already deep in debt, is spending billions of dollars in an effort to stop a banking collapse that could bring us into a deep recession. News reports say that we are facing an economic downturn worse than any time since the Great Depression in the 1930s.
On top of that, gas prices are up, heating fuel is higher than ever, and food prices are increasing. As a person told me recently, "People are strapped and don't have any extra, if they even have enough to pay their bills."
So, preaching about greed doesn't necessarily seem appropriate. The people who attend my church are not greedy. They simply want enough money to live comfortably, pay the bills, and have a little extra for recreation and to save for retirement. They want their kids to go to college without accumulating a mountain of debt. They want to help people who are in greater need than they are.
Perhaps the preaching opportunity is to speak to the issue of responsibility. From my perspective, it seems that much of the crisis we live in today is brought about by the growing narcissism in our society. We see the money we earn as being only for ourselves. The resources at our disposal are for our own good. We seek to gain more "wealth" so that we can enjoy life more. We want our taxes to be lower so we can have more for ourselves.
But what about our responsibility to the common good? Do we not have a responsibility to those beyond ourselves? We are not truly independent people who live in a vacuum. We are interdependent. The choices that we make impact others beyond ourselves. If I choose to hold onto my resources for myself instead of sharing them with others, am I not contributing to the problems of today? If I choose to maximize my own treasure, if I choose to see what I have as only for myself, am I not being greedy? Greed does not require me to have a lot. It only requires that I seek to hold onto all I have for myself.
In the gospel Jesus calls us to be responsible for the common good, not our own good. The paradox is that when I take responsibility for the common good, I actually increase my own share of the good that is available for all.
In Luke 12:15-21 we read this parable told by Jesus:
And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” 16Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 18Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ 20But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ 21So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”
People of faith are not called to accumulate possessions. We are called to be "rich toward God." This does not mean that God intends all of us to be poor or to give away everything that we have. I interpret this to mean that we are called to take responsibility for God's creation, which most certainly includes the community that lives around us. Only the "fool" holds onto everything expecting that it is all for him or her. The wise and faithful person shares those possessions with society for the common good.
As the church intersects with an anxious society in challenging and troubling economic times, people of faith can set a different example from the greed that is at the heart of our current crisis. We can choose to look beyond our individual selves by taking responsibility for the needs of others.
That, it seems to me, is the preaching opportunity. What do you think?
The primary presentation was the 2009 diocesan budget. That subject, in and of itself, was not particularly relevant to most people, even those who are active Episcopalians in the diocese. The presentation, however, led to an interesting discussion about the state of the economy and how churches respond to this. As with all other institutions and organizations, the chaos on Wall Street, the crisis in home mortgages, the government bailouts, and the concern that things will get worse before they get better has a profound impact on how we plan for the coming year. Will investment income remain stable? Will the giving of our parishioners, which is how most congregations fund their ministries, decrease?
On the one hand, this is an institutional issue and really doesn't have much to do with the intersection of church and society. On the other hand, it has much to do with how Christians, and people of other religions, live faithfully in the world today.
Near the end of the discussion, one lay person made a telling and challenging remark (his intention wasn't to challenge the clergy, but any one who did not hear it as a challenge was not really listening). He said something along the lines of, "I'm looking forward to hearing sermons about the economy and the choices that we as Christians need to make. So many of our problems today are a result of greed. This is a preaching opportunity."
Ironically, it's not too often that clergy hear a plea for sermon topics. That probably has to do more with clergy not asking for input than it does with lay people not being willing to offer an opinion.
What is the preaching opportunity here? His comment about greed in our economic system clearly points to a characteristic of our nation that bothers many. The people who participate in the Seacoast Convocation and vast majority of those who attend our churches are not people making a lot of money from the stock market. Most are middle class people who work each day. Living on the Seacoast, most have been successful, but they look at the nation in which we live and they feel a deep anxiety. The stock market is crashing, investment banks are failing, the government, already deep in debt, is spending billions of dollars in an effort to stop a banking collapse that could bring us into a deep recession. News reports say that we are facing an economic downturn worse than any time since the Great Depression in the 1930s.
On top of that, gas prices are up, heating fuel is higher than ever, and food prices are increasing. As a person told me recently, "People are strapped and don't have any extra, if they even have enough to pay their bills."
So, preaching about greed doesn't necessarily seem appropriate. The people who attend my church are not greedy. They simply want enough money to live comfortably, pay the bills, and have a little extra for recreation and to save for retirement. They want their kids to go to college without accumulating a mountain of debt. They want to help people who are in greater need than they are.
Perhaps the preaching opportunity is to speak to the issue of responsibility. From my perspective, it seems that much of the crisis we live in today is brought about by the growing narcissism in our society. We see the money we earn as being only for ourselves. The resources at our disposal are for our own good. We seek to gain more "wealth" so that we can enjoy life more. We want our taxes to be lower so we can have more for ourselves.
But what about our responsibility to the common good? Do we not have a responsibility to those beyond ourselves? We are not truly independent people who live in a vacuum. We are interdependent. The choices that we make impact others beyond ourselves. If I choose to hold onto my resources for myself instead of sharing them with others, am I not contributing to the problems of today? If I choose to maximize my own treasure, if I choose to see what I have as only for myself, am I not being greedy? Greed does not require me to have a lot. It only requires that I seek to hold onto all I have for myself.
In the gospel Jesus calls us to be responsible for the common good, not our own good. The paradox is that when I take responsibility for the common good, I actually increase my own share of the good that is available for all.
In Luke 12:15-21 we read this parable told by Jesus:
And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” 16Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 18Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ 20But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ 21So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”
People of faith are not called to accumulate possessions. We are called to be "rich toward God." This does not mean that God intends all of us to be poor or to give away everything that we have. I interpret this to mean that we are called to take responsibility for God's creation, which most certainly includes the community that lives around us. Only the "fool" holds onto everything expecting that it is all for him or her. The wise and faithful person shares those possessions with society for the common good.
As the church intersects with an anxious society in challenging and troubling economic times, people of faith can set a different example from the greed that is at the heart of our current crisis. We can choose to look beyond our individual selves by taking responsibility for the needs of others.
That, it seems to me, is the preaching opportunity. What do you think?
Monday, September 8, 2008
Addressing Fear
As a church, how do we address the fears of our children and youth? This question comes to mind because of two items to which I was exposed this morning.
The first was an interview on Good Morning America with Thomas Friedman, author of The World is Flat. He was promoting his new book, Hot, Flat, and Crowded: Why We Need a Green Revolution -- And How it Can Renew America. I've not read the book yet, so I can only speak to the interview (to see the interview, go to http://abcnews.go.com/gma).
Looking at the convergence of increasing world population, a growing middle class in the developing world using more and more energy resources, and global warming, one of his primary points is that "we need to change leaders, not light bulbs." He is critical of both Obama and McCain in the interview, believing neither goes far enough in pushing us toward new and renewable forms of energy. His answer: innovation in the marketplace.
The second news item this morning was in the Op/Ed section of today's Boston Globe. In an opinion piece written by guest columnist Allegra Goodman, we hear a very different and personal perspective on global warming. She writes about her twelve-year old son's "fatalism" about global warming. Thinking about the upcoming election he said to his mother, "It doesn't really matter as much for you, because you'll be dead...but I'm going to have to live through global warming, and I'm afraid by the time I can vote, it will be too late." Goodman also mentions a conversation with a friend who tells her that "her son can't sleep because he is so anxious about global warming." (Read the full column, at ://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2008/09/08/the_dark_dreams_of_global_warming/).
Her concern in the column is addressing her son's fear and anxiety. "What's a parent to do?" An excellent question and one that does not have an immediate answer. Having two teenage children, I can certainly empathize with her anxiety about her son's fear.
Expanding her question a bit: What's the church to do?
When I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s we worried about the nuclear destruction. I was born in the midst of the Cuban missile crisis. I lived through the build up of nuclear arms and the increased "sophistication" of these weapons. Living outside of Washington, D.C., I remember sitting in a high school history class when the teacher said, "If we heard right now that missiles are on their way, there would be nothing for us to do but to go outside, sit in a circle, sing songs, and wait. We would not be able to get away."
What was my church's response to all of this? I don't remember one. The only image I have is of signs in the church leading to the basement that read, "Fallout Shelter." As if the basement of the church was going to save us.
Perhaps the leaders of the church had no response. Perhaps the response was simply, "Trust in Jesus. If we all die, at least we'll go to heaven."
That response does not seem particularly adequate to me. It certainly doesn't address the very present and real anxiety about the future of our planet and of the ultimate survival of both the diverse creatures who live here and of the human race. How might the church address the fear and anxiety of a twelve-year old boy whose world view is fatalistic and pessimistic?
Do we preach about heaven? Do we go to the Bible and read the stories of Jesus walking on the water in the midst of the storm and telling the disciples not to be afraid (see Mark 6:47-51)? Do we say, "Trust Jesus and all will be well"?
I don't deny the foundational truth here. I do trust Jesus and I do trust that, in God's time, all will be well. But to leave it at that feels as if we are addressing the fear and anxiety of children with platitudes instead of hope and with simplistic escapism instead of faithful seeking.
In the face of the fatalism produced by global warming, what's the church to do? It certainly isn't to focus on internal church rules and institutional survival. My only answer today is that we must make people of faith a part of the broader conversation. We cannot allow this to be addressed only by Thomas Friedman, political candidates, and environmentalists. If we take seriously the idea that God created us to be stewards of creation, then we must accept the responsibility of engaging the reality of global warming and living in a way today that sustains our home for the future.
Children living in fear need more than scientific, business, and political answers. They need what a spiritual perspective can provide: faith, hope, and possibility. They need action. They need engagement and participation. They need adults to wrestle with reality faithfully. Whether it's a change in leadership or a change in light bulbs, people of faith need to begin living as good stewards today.
The first was an interview on Good Morning America with Thomas Friedman, author of The World is Flat. He was promoting his new book, Hot, Flat, and Crowded: Why We Need a Green Revolution -- And How it Can Renew America. I've not read the book yet, so I can only speak to the interview (to see the interview, go to http://abcnews.go.com/gma).
Looking at the convergence of increasing world population, a growing middle class in the developing world using more and more energy resources, and global warming, one of his primary points is that "we need to change leaders, not light bulbs." He is critical of both Obama and McCain in the interview, believing neither goes far enough in pushing us toward new and renewable forms of energy. His answer: innovation in the marketplace.
The second news item this morning was in the Op/Ed section of today's Boston Globe. In an opinion piece written by guest columnist Allegra Goodman, we hear a very different and personal perspective on global warming. She writes about her twelve-year old son's "fatalism" about global warming. Thinking about the upcoming election he said to his mother, "It doesn't really matter as much for you, because you'll be dead...but I'm going to have to live through global warming, and I'm afraid by the time I can vote, it will be too late." Goodman also mentions a conversation with a friend who tells her that "her son can't sleep because he is so anxious about global warming." (Read the full column, at ://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2008/09/08/the_dark_dreams_of_global_warming/).
Her concern in the column is addressing her son's fear and anxiety. "What's a parent to do?" An excellent question and one that does not have an immediate answer. Having two teenage children, I can certainly empathize with her anxiety about her son's fear.
Expanding her question a bit: What's the church to do?
When I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s we worried about the nuclear destruction. I was born in the midst of the Cuban missile crisis. I lived through the build up of nuclear arms and the increased "sophistication" of these weapons. Living outside of Washington, D.C., I remember sitting in a high school history class when the teacher said, "If we heard right now that missiles are on their way, there would be nothing for us to do but to go outside, sit in a circle, sing songs, and wait. We would not be able to get away."
What was my church's response to all of this? I don't remember one. The only image I have is of signs in the church leading to the basement that read, "Fallout Shelter." As if the basement of the church was going to save us.
Perhaps the leaders of the church had no response. Perhaps the response was simply, "Trust in Jesus. If we all die, at least we'll go to heaven."
That response does not seem particularly adequate to me. It certainly doesn't address the very present and real anxiety about the future of our planet and of the ultimate survival of both the diverse creatures who live here and of the human race. How might the church address the fear and anxiety of a twelve-year old boy whose world view is fatalistic and pessimistic?
Do we preach about heaven? Do we go to the Bible and read the stories of Jesus walking on the water in the midst of the storm and telling the disciples not to be afraid (see Mark 6:47-51)? Do we say, "Trust Jesus and all will be well"?
I don't deny the foundational truth here. I do trust Jesus and I do trust that, in God's time, all will be well. But to leave it at that feels as if we are addressing the fear and anxiety of children with platitudes instead of hope and with simplistic escapism instead of faithful seeking.
In the face of the fatalism produced by global warming, what's the church to do? It certainly isn't to focus on internal church rules and institutional survival. My only answer today is that we must make people of faith a part of the broader conversation. We cannot allow this to be addressed only by Thomas Friedman, political candidates, and environmentalists. If we take seriously the idea that God created us to be stewards of creation, then we must accept the responsibility of engaging the reality of global warming and living in a way today that sustains our home for the future.
Children living in fear need more than scientific, business, and political answers. They need what a spiritual perspective can provide: faith, hope, and possibility. They need action. They need engagement and participation. They need adults to wrestle with reality faithfully. Whether it's a change in leadership or a change in light bulbs, people of faith need to begin living as good stewards today.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Labor Day and the Common Good
For worship yesterday morning I chose to pray the Collect for Labor Day as the conclusion for the Prayers of the People. Generally, I like to pray a collect at this point that is not generic but speaks to the theme of the sermon, an current issue or event that will be in the minds of the congregation, or that focuses attention on a holiday or holy day that is being celebrated.
I've prayed the Collect for Labor Day many times before, but it struck me differently this time. Here it is:
Almighty God, you have so linked our lives one with another that all we do affects, for good or ill, all other lives: So guide us in the work we do, that we may do it not for self alone, but for the common good; and, as we seek a proper return for our own labor, make us mindful of the rightful aspirations of other workers, and arouse our concern for those who are out of work; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
What strikes you in this collect? I'm struck by the underlying assumption that we are bound to each other, "that all we do affects, for good or ill, all other lives." Living in New Hampshire (the "Live Free of Die" state) I find this statement from the collect compelling. We are not simply a collection of disconnected individuals who happen to live in the same place and time. We are a community of interdependent individuals whose lives impact each other, for good or ill (and, of course, technology allows us to be connected even when we aren't in the same place). So, we pray in the collect that God will guide us so that our work, in whatever form it takes, will not be "for self alone, but for the common good."
This leads to other questions. What is the common good? If the purpose of our work is not to enrich and advance ourselves but to improve the common good, what are the goals of our work? What are we trying to achieve?
Laurent Parks Daloz, Sharon Daloz Parks, James Keen, and Cheryl Keen focus on defining the common good and the type of people who work for it in their book, Common Fire (published by Beacon Press in Boston, 1996). They define the core elements of the common good as follows:
- global scope;
- recognition of diversity;
- and, a "vision of society as composed of individuals whose own well-being is inextricably bound up with the good of the whole." (Common Fire, page 16)
They go on to write that the common good "refers to the well-being of the whole earth community -- its safety, the integrity of basic institutions and practices, and the sustaining of the living systems of our planet home. The common good also suggests broadly shared goals toward which the members of the community strive -- human flourishing, prosperity, and moral development. A recognition of the common good thus casts light on the significance of openness to new learning, critical and systemic thought, and the search for 'right naming' -- images, metaphors, language -- that convey the deepest truths of our common life." (Common Fire, page 16).
The Collect for Labor Day, then, gives us the language (the "right naming") to better understand our purpose as a people created by God. It also articulates a vision of a society in which diverse peoples are not separated by their differences but "inextricably bound up with the good of the whole."
At its best, a faith community embodies the language expressed in this collect. It exposes us to people of diverse backgrounds and opinions who gather around a common table. And, it challenges us to live our lives not for ourselves alone but to consider at all times the needs and desires of others.
"All human beings need identifiable networks of belonging to ground us in a positive sense of place and identity." (Common Fire, page 13) At the intersection of community responsibility and individual choice, the church reminds us that we are not called by God to work solely for our own gain but primarily to dedicate ourselves to the good of all. Because what is good for all, is ultimately good for me, isn't it?
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Barriers Breaking, Dreams, and Faith
I turned on the TV at just the right time yesterday evening. I had expected to watch the evening news, not to witness an historic moment. But that's exactly what happened as I watched the last 20 minutes or so of the roll call at the Democratic National Convention. In an ironic twist, Hillary Rodham Clinton moved that the convention elect Barack Obama by acclimation to be its nominee for President of the United States. And with an explosion of cheers and a great many tears, Obama became the first African-American to be officially nominated by a major political party for President.
Whatever one's political persuasion or party, it was a moment to celebrate.
As I watched I found myself close to tears. I wondered why. I am a 45 year old white, heterosexual man who grew up in an upper middle class family in Virginia. I have not experienced the "walls" and "ceilings" that have been barriers to minorities and people on the margins for so long. I have not experienced discrimination and I have not been the subject of prejudice. I've not lost opportunities because of the color or my skin or my sexual orientation or my gender. Society's doors have been opened for me throughout my life.
Perhaps my tears had something to do with my daughter's reaction. Her attitude was "What's the big deal?" This had nothing to do with the fact that she's too young to vote or doesn't care. She reacted this way because she is growing up in a generation that believes anyone can achieve anything. For her, an African-American man or a white woman being nominated to be President (or being elected President) feels absolutely normal. That's a change to celebrate! Alleluia!!
So, what does any of this have to do with living faithfully in the 21st century village? Well, I'm struck by what I'll call the "prophetic timing" of Obama's nomination. Nominated yesterday, he will make his acceptance speech on the 45th anniversary of the March on Washington in 1963 when Martin Luther King gave his famous, "I Have a Dream" speech.
I took some time today to listen to and re-read the speech (see the link below, if you'd like to do the same). The speech is not overtly religious. He sprinkles in a couple of biblical verses, but it is definitely a speech for a civic event, not a sermon for a religious gathering.
What makes the speech religious (or spiritual, if you prefer) is the faith that is at its heart. King's passion and determination are driven and supported by his faith. He trusts and believes that someday, somehow, this dream will be fulfilled. He stated this most clearly when he said:
"This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day."
We need faith. We cannot live without it. Faith allows us to dream, to break down barriers, to walk forward when we want to retreat. Faith allows us to see not only the world as it is but also the world as it should and can be. Faith empowers us and sustains us.
We need spiritual communities, formal gatherings of people who seek God. We need this not to ensure that we go to heaven, but to empower us to live passionately and faithfully in the world. We need communities that are not consumed with institutional preservation but are willing to, as a parishioner of mine just wrote to me, "be creative and break some molds." And we must break these molds soon before we lose a generation of young people who want to be spiritually alive but not institutionally bound.
I have much more to say about that, but I'll save that for another entry. If you want to read and listen to Martin Luther King's speech, you will find it at http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/mlkihaveadream.htm.
I invite your comments and thoughts. Please join the conversation. Thanks!
Whatever one's political persuasion or party, it was a moment to celebrate.
As I watched I found myself close to tears. I wondered why. I am a 45 year old white, heterosexual man who grew up in an upper middle class family in Virginia. I have not experienced the "walls" and "ceilings" that have been barriers to minorities and people on the margins for so long. I have not experienced discrimination and I have not been the subject of prejudice. I've not lost opportunities because of the color or my skin or my sexual orientation or my gender. Society's doors have been opened for me throughout my life.
Perhaps my tears had something to do with my daughter's reaction. Her attitude was "What's the big deal?" This had nothing to do with the fact that she's too young to vote or doesn't care. She reacted this way because she is growing up in a generation that believes anyone can achieve anything. For her, an African-American man or a white woman being nominated to be President (or being elected President) feels absolutely normal. That's a change to celebrate! Alleluia!!
So, what does any of this have to do with living faithfully in the 21st century village? Well, I'm struck by what I'll call the "prophetic timing" of Obama's nomination. Nominated yesterday, he will make his acceptance speech on the 45th anniversary of the March on Washington in 1963 when Martin Luther King gave his famous, "I Have a Dream" speech.
I took some time today to listen to and re-read the speech (see the link below, if you'd like to do the same). The speech is not overtly religious. He sprinkles in a couple of biblical verses, but it is definitely a speech for a civic event, not a sermon for a religious gathering.
What makes the speech religious (or spiritual, if you prefer) is the faith that is at its heart. King's passion and determination are driven and supported by his faith. He trusts and believes that someday, somehow, this dream will be fulfilled. He stated this most clearly when he said:
"This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day."
We need faith. We cannot live without it. Faith allows us to dream, to break down barriers, to walk forward when we want to retreat. Faith allows us to see not only the world as it is but also the world as it should and can be. Faith empowers us and sustains us.
We need spiritual communities, formal gatherings of people who seek God. We need this not to ensure that we go to heaven, but to empower us to live passionately and faithfully in the world. We need communities that are not consumed with institutional preservation but are willing to, as a parishioner of mine just wrote to me, "be creative and break some molds." And we must break these molds soon before we lose a generation of young people who want to be spiritually alive but not institutionally bound.
I have much more to say about that, but I'll save that for another entry. If you want to read and listen to Martin Luther King's speech, you will find it at http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/mlkihaveadream.htm.
I invite your comments and thoughts. Please join the conversation. Thanks!
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Why?
Why? That's the question my wife asked me the other day as I told her about this blog I'm starting. Actually, that wasn't the only question she asked. She also wanted to know how I was going to find the time to make regular entries. "What are you going to give up in order to have time to do this?"
Hmmm....I had not thought of that. Do I need to give something up to have a blog? Can't I just squeeze this into every other part of my life: busy parish ministry, two teenagers in high school, household tasks, board meetings at the hospital, watching the Red Sox and tracking the Cubs via the Internet, etc., etc.
Well, I'm not prepared to answer the question about what I'm giving up to give myself time to do this. For now, I'll just focus on the "why" question.
The most straightforward response has to do with my participation in a Doctor of Ministry program at Seabury-Western Theological Seminary. I need to write a thesis and, to some extent, this blog is a part of that work (or, perhaps it is more accurate to say that this blog is a result of that work). My thesis will explore how one congregation can create a "commons," a gathering place that is open to anyone seeking God in community, through the intentional practice of hospitality. Is it possible in a post-modern society to create a commons that will allow a diverse people to gather freely for the exchange of ideas, stories, faith, and relationship? What will result when we try? I hope this blog will be a part of this new commons, a virtual gathering place, so to speak.
Beyond the thesis, I'm looking for a way to explore the impact of the changes in church and society as well as the changes in the way the church interacts with society. In the early 21st century we stand at a complex series of intersections: the intersections of modern and post-modern, of spirituality and secularism, of community responsibility and individual choice, of traditional church and emerging church (just to name a few). The choices we make as we work our way through these intersections and live in this 21st century village will be vitally important for the future to which God calls us.
I've been told not to write long posts (a challenge for me; I find it very difficult to be succinct!). Since this is probably already too long, let me this finish with this. Raised Southern Baptist, I've been an Episcopalian for 21 years and a parish priest for 16 years. I believe this is a very exciting time to be a person of faith, to be one who seeks the love and grace of God with a community of fellow seekers.
I invite you to join me on the quest and to participate by posting your thoughts. Perhaps we can begin to create that commons right here (wherever "here" may be).
Hmmm....I had not thought of that. Do I need to give something up to have a blog? Can't I just squeeze this into every other part of my life: busy parish ministry, two teenagers in high school, household tasks, board meetings at the hospital, watching the Red Sox and tracking the Cubs via the Internet, etc., etc.
Well, I'm not prepared to answer the question about what I'm giving up to give myself time to do this. For now, I'll just focus on the "why" question.
The most straightforward response has to do with my participation in a Doctor of Ministry program at Seabury-Western Theological Seminary. I need to write a thesis and, to some extent, this blog is a part of that work (or, perhaps it is more accurate to say that this blog is a result of that work). My thesis will explore how one congregation can create a "commons," a gathering place that is open to anyone seeking God in community, through the intentional practice of hospitality. Is it possible in a post-modern society to create a commons that will allow a diverse people to gather freely for the exchange of ideas, stories, faith, and relationship? What will result when we try? I hope this blog will be a part of this new commons, a virtual gathering place, so to speak.
Beyond the thesis, I'm looking for a way to explore the impact of the changes in church and society as well as the changes in the way the church interacts with society. In the early 21st century we stand at a complex series of intersections: the intersections of modern and post-modern, of spirituality and secularism, of community responsibility and individual choice, of traditional church and emerging church (just to name a few). The choices we make as we work our way through these intersections and live in this 21st century village will be vitally important for the future to which God calls us.
I've been told not to write long posts (a challenge for me; I find it very difficult to be succinct!). Since this is probably already too long, let me this finish with this. Raised Southern Baptist, I've been an Episcopalian for 21 years and a parish priest for 16 years. I believe this is a very exciting time to be a person of faith, to be one who seeks the love and grace of God with a community of fellow seekers.
I invite you to join me on the quest and to participate by posting your thoughts. Perhaps we can begin to create that commons right here (wherever "here" may be).
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