Self-Expansion or Common Enterprise?

"We're an overconfident species." So writes columnist David Brooks in The Modesty Manifesto printed in this past Friday's New York Times.

He goes on to write that "there's abundant evidence to suggest that we have shifted from a culture that emphasized self-effacement -- I'm no better than anyone else, but nobody is better than me -- to a culture that emphasizes self-expansion."

This is possibly, he believes, a reason for some of our current problems in the United States. We have so inflated our sense of self, so fallen into narcissism, that political leaders are no longer motivated to listen to those who disagree with them, making it nearly impossible to reach the sort of compromise, let alone consensus, that allows us to make the difficult decisions that will have a long-term impact on the United States.

"Citizenship, after all," he writes, "is built on an awareness that we are not all that special but are, instead, enmeshed in a common enterprise."

I think Brooks is on to something here that speaks directly to a central challenge for congregational life in these early years of the 21st century. We in the church are trying to create religious communities in an age in which people are looking for personal spiritual fulfillment. In other words, it seems to me that so often people seek a church because they are yearning for self-expansion.

Understand, please, that I'm not being critical. Too many people have been hurt or pushed down by the church, their schools, or some other institution (or even their families). As Jesus did with the woman who committed adultery (see John 8:2-11) we need to lift people up, proclaiming to them that they are not condemned but loved. There are a lot of people out there who need some healthy self-expansion.

Yet didn't Jesus invite us to give up our selves and follow him? Are we not inviting people into a divine community, into a religious citizenship that is, to use Brooks' words, "enmeshed in a common enterprise"? To create this community, don't we need to invite people to look beyond their own personal fulfillment to work for the fulfillment of the whole? And is it not true that, paradoxically, each of us finds our truest sense of fulfillment when we give our selves over to the Jesus we experience and make manifest together?

So, it's Lent and for those of us who gathered at church on Ash Wednesday, we've been invited "to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God's holy Word" (Book of Common Prayer, p. 265).

There's a lot of "self" in that invitation, but somehow I'm thinking that all of this spiritual "work" I'm supposed to do during Lent is not supposed to be all about me, that it's not all about my personal relationship with Jesus.

What might happen if, during Lent, we focused on our relationships with both Jesus and each other, if we focused on our "common enterprise." That might even lead to some transformation, an expansion not simply of the self but of the community.

I'm thinking that -- perhaps -- that could be just what Jesus wanted.

Take Away the Arrogance and Hatred Which Infect Our Hearts

Six people killed and a member of Congress in critical condition in the hospital. The tragedy in Tucson has saturated the news as people try to respond and comprehend what happened. In what has become a common rite in western society, people have been leaving flowers, keepsakes, and notes in support of Congresswoman Giffords and those who were killed and injured.

Lost in the midst of this tragedy is one reported in the Boston Globe on Wednesday, January 12th in an article titled "Students Mourn Nebraska School Administrator Slain by Teen." A school principal was shot last week by a student she had suspended earlier in the day. Later that same day the student killed himself.

It seems at times, doesn't it, that we live in a society gone mad. I'm not sure if these sorts of things happen more often than they used to or if we just hear about it more because of the overload of information that comes to us. Whatever it is, I wonder what my response is to be to this as a Christian person. These events happened far away from me and my life really has not been changed by them. But do I just let them pass or is this a call to live in a new way?

I'm not sure what the answer is, but I know where I start in situations like this. I start by praying the prayer "For the Human Family" found on page 815 of the Book of Common Prayer.

O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus Christ your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Once I've prayed the prayer, the question becomes: How do I put this into action? It's fine to place my faith in God and wait for God's "good time" to bring the divine purpose into fulfillment. But that doesn't mean I bear no responsibility for the society in which I live today.

As Christians, one of our primary calls is to create community, a special sort of community that lives by faith, hope, and love despite the differences that might divide us. As God's people, as the Body of Christ, we have it within our power to make a difference by showing the world that there is another way to live together.

What might happen if we took seriously not only praying this prayer, but also living it?

Discovering Community at the Boston Marathon

I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community,

and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can.

George Bernard Shaw

Yesterday, I participated in one of those quintessentially Boston events: the Boston Marathon. No, I most certainly did NOT run in the marathon. I was there to support a friend, Jim, from Texas. He ran while his fiance (Elizabeth, a dear friend for many years), my wife, and I did our best to support him. This included one "shout out" of support near Kenmore Square as he ran by (his fiance managed an early shout out in the Boston suburbs as well as the one in the city with us). Later he told us what a difference it made to have us encouraging him when he'd reached the point of just pushing through to the end.

Not running in the marathon (and I hereby proclaim that I have no intention of ever doing so!), gave me an opportunity to observe and participate in the entire experience. We walked along part of the route and saw an enormous number of people participating in some way or another. Some were there because they come every year. Some were there because it was a good excuse to start drinking early. Others were there because it was a state holiday in Massachusetts (Patriots Day). Some were there to see the Red Sox game (ANOTHER loss to the Rays! Ugh!).

Many were there to support a specific runner or group of runners. I saw all sorts of people in matching t-shirts, with signs, with "stuff" to give the runners in case they needed a boost. People stood along the route yearning to catch a glimpse of a friend or family member running toward them. When they saw that particular person, they began to yell out the person's name and a huge smile would appear on the face of a weary runner who was just gutting it out.

I've often thought of running as a solo athletic endeavor. In many ways it is, of course. Even when someone has another to run with, in the midst of a marathon each person is eventually on his or her own to make it to the finish.

But in so many ways, the Boston Marathon exemplifies the need we have for community even in something that is so highly individualized. After the race, Jim spoke of the noise from the crowds that kept up his energy, of the other runners along the way with whom he interacted, and of our support at a critical time in the race for him. Jim wasn't alone and didn't run alone. He ran with a community.

The non-runners are certainly feeling better today than the runners. We don't need to recover from yesterday. But each of us, in a different way, made the Boston Marathon experience possible.

I won't stretch the metaphor too much here. You know where I'm going with this, I'm sure. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. Jesus calls us to live faithfully for the long term, not the short term. Etc., etc.

Perhaps it is best to remember, as I was reminded yesterday, that we are in this together, that each of us has a part to play to make it to the end of the race. Life is meant to be lived interdependently, in community, with each of us sharing our gifts, talents, and skills for the good of the whole. It's only a question, really, of whether we are each willing to do our part so that the community can keep on running.

Can We Embody the Compassion of Jesus Without being Political?

The other day I participated in an ecumenical breakfast meeting with some of the local clergy. The clergy association, if one can even call it that, is very informal and does not gather much in Exeter. A primary challenge for us is a theological divide between mainline churches and evangelical churches. Most of my interactions are with the pastors and people of the Congregational Church (UCC) and the Unitarian-Universalist Society. The breakfast was a good event and showed some promise for how we might find some common ministries in which a broader group of churches could be involved.

As a follow-up to the meeting one of the pastors sent an email invitation to all of the clergy asking us to attend a meeting next month with our state senator. I'm not sure that I will attend, but only because the meeting falls on my sabbath day, a day I try to reserve for rest and recreation. Having told the other pastor I might not attend, I did not think any more about it.

I was surprised the next day to read an email from yet another pastor declining the invitation because one characteristic of her denominations covenant of ordination is that pastors will not be involved in politics or use the pulpit to endorse political candidates or directions. This surprises me not because of the commitment of a pastor to stay out of politics but because I do not see the meeting with the state senator as involvement in politics or endorsing a politician. For me, this is a way for clergy to stay connected to the systems of power in our state that influence the lives of our congregations and our members.

My intention is not to be critical. I respect this pastor's feelings and I agree completely that clergy should not make political endorsements (the IRS would agree with this, also!). I bring this up because it raises questions for me about the role of the church in society.

• Is there a difference between involvement in politics and partnership with political leaders to explore and deal with systemic issues?
• Am I being political if I speak out against injustice?
• Can I effectively proclaim the presence of the reign of God in the world without engaging political processes?
• Does the separation of church and state mean that the church needs to stay out of the state or does it mean that the state is supposed to give the church freedom to express and live out its beliefs and values?
• Is it truly possible to separate religion and politics?

I am not a particularly political person. I don't participate in campaigns and I don't endorse candidates. Although I am a registered Democrat that is only because I want to vote in primaries. I prefer to think of myself as an independent. I don't encourage people to vote one way or the other for candidates or issues. I would never preach a sermon that endorses any one person or issue.

For many years I believed that clergy should be pastoral, not political. But over the past few years I've come to a new perspective. I believe that congregations need to work for a purpose larger than themselves, for a common good that impacts the needs of society as a whole. This mission would be impossible if we failed to participate in conversations and actions in the political realm?

We are called not simply to announce God's reign. Christians are called to embody it as Jesus did. Is it possible to be the Body of Christ in the world without being political? Isn't being political really about how we interact with power and authority to bring about justice? Are we not called to meet that power and authority with compassion, grace, peace, and love?

Every denomination, every congregation, and every pastor needs to answer these questions as seems best for them. It is not my place to say which answer are right and which are wrong. As an Episcopalian whose denomination has a long tradition of bridging the religious and the political worlds, I believe we must participate in the political conversation. The church can not stay silent in the face of hunger, poverty, homelessness, and other issues of injustice in our world. Religion can not be a purely private endeavor in a world that yearns for meaning, compassion, and wholeness.

Sabbath day or not, perhaps I'll participate in that meeting next month. I want to make sure I'm a part of the conversation.

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):

• 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.

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?

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?