Andrew Engelhardt

Gathered around fear: Is it worth it?

I remember the first time I ever watched a horror film.  I was somewhere around the age of 13, when I joined a neighborhood friend to watch the movie "It" (sorry mom, this is probably the first time I have ever confessed this to you).  I remember being terrified by the clown who existed in the dream world as well as the real.  I remember biking back home with enhanced senses: constantly looking over my shoulder, listening for any sounds out of the ordinary, and making sure I avoided any drain holes where horrific clown arms may reach out and grab me.

I was entranced by these horror films through my first few years of college.  The horror series "Saw" captured my interest by surprising the viewer with disturbing images and shocking endings. 

Over the last two weeks I have heard a number of advertisements on the radio that promoted a message such as the following: "Come to the so and so horror show where you will be so terrified that you will not sleep for days."  This is supposed to make me want to come there?  I'm supposed to spend the few dollars that we make every week so that we can be so disturbed that we will not be able to sleep?

I don't often post a blog with the sole purpose of a question, but I have racked my brain over the last few weeks to figure out why watching horror movies and entering into scenarios created to invoke fear are desirable past times?  Am I missing something?  

As Jamie and I went down to bed tonight, we heard a loud noise somewhere in the neighborhood: this was well over two hours ago, and I am still awake wondering what the cause of those noises was.  This is a horrible feeling, and I hate it!  Why do we willfully subject ourselves to paranoia and fear?  Do we so desire to feel "something," that we settle for fear and angst?  Or am I missing it and being a party-pooper on Halloween?  Don't get me wrong, I understand the desire to get together with people, dress up and be united; but at what expense?  If anyone has any input to these questions, please chime in!

The lamentor who can still see green

The time between Pentecost and Advent marks the longest season in the Christian calendar.  This period is often referred to as ordinary or common time, although these terms can cause great misunderstanding if they are used in a way to refer to time that is mundane or trivial.  Instead, ordinary time refers not to a descriptive of the season, but to ordinal counting:  a way of counting time.  With the color green as the hallmark of the season, many churches focus on God's mission in this world and our awareness of growth and redemption happening all around.

Jamie and I have been swimming in the "greenness" of our lives over the last 22 weeks.  We have been challenged to ask in every situation - the easy and the difficult, the good and the bad - "What is God doing in this?"  When we have been at our best and have been able to ask this question, we find that we are slower to judge, more receptive towards listening, slower to act selfishly, and more hopeful about the situation.  This is a far cry from stating that every easy (or difficult) situation is directly scripted by God (i.e. "God gave me a million dollars!" or "God gave me cancer"), but that in every situation we are to respond first as a receptive listener who might actually hear something, and then as an active participant who might actually be called to do something. 

The lectionary for this week calls for a reading of the book of Lamentations.  Lamentations is filled with some of the most vivid descriptives of a land and people who see very little green.  Yet the author never gives way to complete despair:

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.  'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, 'therefore I will hope in him.'" - 3:22-24

...this after he says that "he has made my teeth grind on gravel" (3:16) and "I have forgotten what happiness is" (3:17).  This author was living as a participant in a story, a story that told of the One true God who had brought a people out of Egypt and into an abundant land, a people who were chosen to be set apart as a beaming light to the nations, a people who would never be forgotten.  Even when darkness was all around - as it certainly was when their lands were taken over, their God mocked, and their children hungry - green was not forgotten.  Yahweh had proven His everlasting covenant-commitment with this people time and time again, and the lamentor(s) would not be shackled into complete despair.  

And so we gather every week to continue in the proclamation of this God who does not fail and does not give up on the restoration of all things.  We gather to proclaim Christ crucified for the sake of the world and to proclaim our commitment to being a part of this peaceful kingdom.  We gather to encourage one another to see the green that is all around us, and after receptively listening to the Holy Spirit, to pick up a brush and join in the great masterpiece.  And we are thus formed to be able to ask the question, "What is God doing in this situation?" even when darkness seems to squelch all other colors. 

 

Writing Not to Express, But to Learn

I used to believe that people who write do so because they have something to say and know something about that something.  Sure, there may be difficulty in choosing words, structuring sentences, and arranging paragraphs, but the main idea is already known and thus just needs to be described.  Therefore, I perceived writing not as an artistic development or process-to-achieve-understanding, but as the final step in laying down what is already known.

This assumption about writing often kept the white pages in Microsoft Word as white pages.  The thought was always, "How can I write about something, when I don't know what that something is, don't know what to say about it, and don't know what good it would be for anyone to read about it?"  As I've grown to understand my own learning process, I realize that writing is not a final step, but one of the first steps required to walk on when forming coherent thoughts and opinion. 

Earlier this year I had the opportunity to read Stanley Hauerwas' Hannah's Child where he summed up this same idea:

Writing is hard and difficult work because to write is to think. I do not have an idea and then find a way to express it. The expression is the idea. So I write because writing is the only way I know how to think.

I recently remarked to someone that I feel as if I have not been thinking very deeply over the past few months.  I attributed this to busyness and a mind consumed with a newborn in the house.  There is certainly truth in this, but the larger factor (I am realizing) is that I have not been writing at all.  I hope to engage regularly in the process of writing not because I have a lot to say, but because by engaging the discipline, I will hopefully think deeply and be continually transformed.

Learning that we have hands...

My daughter is just beginning to realize that she has hands.  She surprises herself when they accidentally appear in her line of vision, and then she is captivated by them for extended periods of time; she has yet to realize that these are useful to achieve her desires of sucking, grabbing, and holding.

That she has to learn this - that she exists in a body - is a beautiful thing. Jamie and I pray for her future and all the things that she will face and for all the lessons that will be learned through them.  But before she can learn about love, and friendship, and forgiveness, and beauty, she has to learn that she exists.

As Christians, we make certain proclamations about the world that are otherwise unknown to the world.  In the same way that Lydia is discovering a truthfulness and a reality of her own bodily existense - a realization that will birth an entire new way of life - so we believe Jesus has revealed an entirely new way of life.  We are invited into this through the call, "Repent and believe, for the kingdom of God is at hand."  And when we respond to this call, we do not simply sit back and remark about these realities ("Oh, I have hands, NEATO!", or any number of doctrinal statements that quickly become the essence of faith) but instead are invited to practice the realities which have been revealed, and therefore become transformed by their truthfulness.

Many of the realities of this kingdom come to mind:

• Learning to forgive
• Practicing a posture of peacefulness
• Openness towards strangers
• Particular care for the poor, the lonely, and the oppressed
• Giving possessions away
• Regularly communing and fellowshipping with others.

Lydia's journey of discovering her bodily existence is a beautiful journey.  She will live differently as she realizes she has hands, feet, and the ability to communicate with others.  Everything will be new.  May our eyes be opened to the kingdom come near through Jesus Christ, and therefore accept the call to repent and believe, living forward with eyes opened to the truthfulness of a world being redeemed and restored. 

 

Listen to Their Stories - Desmond Tutu on NPR

I had the joy and privilege to spend the morning listening to a recorded interview with Desmond Tutu via NPR.  I know very little of former Archbishop Desmond Tutu's biography and contribution to the implementation of democracy within a country plagued by apartheid, but was impacted greatly today by his answer to the question, "Can you give us an example of how Scripture was relevant?  or written specifically for your situation [in South Africa]?"  Former Archbishop Tutu answered confidently:

 "Apartheid sought to mislead people into believing that what gave value to human beings was a biological irrelevance -  skin color, ethnicity.  What gave value to persons is that we are created in the image of God, and that each one of us is a God-carrier.  No matter what our physical circumstances may be, it doesn’t take away from you this intrinsic worth."

If apartheid was a story of power over persons of difference, then Scripture acted for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission as a story of unity and oneness; it was a different type of story, one that gave value to all persons, because of their createdness as image-bearers of God.

But the greatest part of the interview - the part that will last with me for some time - was the emphasis on storytelling as an act of healing for the oppressed and the voiceless.  Tutu says that

We had this remarkable process of truth and reconciliation commission.  When people who had suffered grievously, who you could have said had a divine right to being angry and being filled with a lust for revenge, came and told their stories, and frequently you wanted to take off your shoes because you are standing on holy ground.  

These "righteous offendees" - when given the space to tell their stories - were healed as they spoke and told their story.  So often the worst offense a person can experience is not physical or emotional pain, but the pain of being silenced.  How many people within the various sub-cultures of the West have experienced this same silencing?  And how often have those claiming Christ as "Lord of the oppressed," served as the ones who silence such voices?

I hope that, as one who believes that the reconciliation of the entire cosmos is found in Christ, that I might become a person who gives ear to those who too often speak to brick walls.  I pray that, as a community in Westmont IL, we may slow the pace of our lives enough to listen to forgotten stories.  I pray that, through the most simple acts of having a conversation, we might give someone the gift of being heard.

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Pluralism - Empty Virtues of Tolerance and Respect, or Not?

 I recently began reading Stephen Prothero's newest book, God Is Not One, after hearing about its release and a corresponding blog discussion set to begin over at Jesus Creed.  I was intrigued at the author's motive for writing such a book.  Closing the introduction to the book, Prothero says the following:

One of the most common misconceptions about the world's religions is that they plumb the same depths, ask the same questions.  They do not.  Only religions that see God as all good ask how a good God can allow millions to die in tsunamis.  Only religions that believe in souls ask whether your soul exists before you are born and what happens to it after you die.  And only religions that think we have one soul ask after "the soul" in the singular.  Every religion, however, asks after the human condition.  Here we are in these human bodies.  What now?  What next?  What are we to become? (Prothero, God Is Not One, 24).

The American-pluralistic ideology functions under the belief that, if we can find that which is common-among people of competing beliefs, then we will eventually live in peace with one another: Muslims with Christians; Jews with Hindus; Buddhists with Confucians.  This pluralism requires a politically-liberal stance, where any of the "private" attributes of being a person or community - beliefs, cultural practices, stories, accidents of history - are kept at arms length away from public policy formation.  This is known as the "veil of ignorance," where it is acceptable to holds these beliefs and practices, but only as long as they are kept within the "private life."  According to this political liberal agenda which creates much of the pluralism of American culture, it is only then that we will be able to esteem such values as peace, justice, freedom, and equality.  

The issue that I see with this, and the point that Prothero is making, is that if we eliminate these beliefs and cultural practices, we are eliminating the very essence of who a person is: all in favor of a cookie-cutter uniformity.  And in fact, the elimination of these differences is impossible, because we are not even asking the same questions.  Prothero states the all religions sense that something is wrong with the way things are and that something needs to be done to make things right.  However, these eight major (competing) religions do not agree on either the problem or the solution.  

The masking of differences between persons makes words like tolerance and respect "empty virtues."  Real tolerance and respect is not ignorance of our differences, but is an acknowledgement that the most important things in our lives - our beliefs, our customs, our rituals - may be different and even competing.  Tolerance and respect are developed virtues in lasting relationships formed out of a stance of humility.  

I am very excited to continue learning about other religions.  However, I have felt uncomfortable reading about these religious beliefs and practices from such an objective/scholarly perspective of Stephen Prothero.  Really putting his thoughts into practice requires, as I said, the "work" of humbly building relationships with people over time. 

Was Jesus' Teaching of Non-Violence a "New Strategy" to Win?

I am afraid that I did not communicate as clearly as I had hoped to in my previous posting.  My goal was to show that Jesus was revealing something about the character of God in Matthew 5:38-42.  In this passage, when Jesus instructs his followers to "turn the other cheek" and "give also your cloak" and "go an extra mile," he was not instructing his followers to adhere to a more "morally acceptable" way of defeating such "human enemies," but instead was showing that "this is life in the kingdom of God."  In this kingdom life, the question is not "Am I more morally justified if I achieve victory through non-violence or violence?' but "How will we live knowing that victory is already won?" and that it is not a victory over other persons, but over the powers of darkness, sin, and ultimately - death.

We are immersing ourselves in the book of James throughout the summer at Life on the Vine and in Westmont, and the text for the morning was James 3:1-12.  The emphasis was primarily on James 3:6, where we are duly warned of the power of language and words to either be used under the "reign of God" or the "rule of evil"; language is rarely, if ever, neutral.  Instead, language has the power to create, or to destroy; to encourage, or to condemn; to bring peace, or to bring war.  Preaching at LOV is never an isolated event, but rather is part of a liturgy that collectively calls and shapes us into transformation for the mission of God in the world.  Therefore, after concluding the message, the preacher always leads the congregation in corporate prayer as a time to confess sin and engage the spoken word as co-participants and members of the body.  All that to say, that there was no shortage of prayers from people who realized the truth of James' warning about the tongue.

Words were spoken this morning that struck me personally, and left me feeling a need to amend that previous blog post with this one.  Each week we gather corporately for participation at the Eucharistic table.  The words that struck me came just before receiving the bread and the cup:

"Jesus, on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, "This is my body that is for you.  Do this in remembrance of me."  In the same way he  took the cup also, after supper,  saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." - 1 Corinthians 11:23b-26

"On the night when he was betrayed..."

• he took revenge
• he retaliated
• he slandered
• he violently humiliated his opponent
• he non-violently humiliated his opponent

No

"On the night when he was betrayed..."

• he took a loaf of bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it

These were not mere lessons in morality.  Jesus was not urging his followers to "do" something that He was unwilling to do.  In fact, it was never about "doing" anything, but about being: becoming "like Christ."

I had not intended to open up a violence vs. non-violence or pacifism debate, nor did I pretend to be speaking any practical words to international conflict scenarios.  My intention of that post - and this - was to show that Jesus called followers to become like himself, not because it worked in rearranging WHO was in power, because this is life characterized in the kingdom of God: a kingdom where the following are the two greatest commandments:

When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “ ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22:34-40, NRSV)

Should Non-Violence Be Used to Shame Someone?

I vividly remember being surprised and frustrated by Jesus' words in Matthew 5:38-42.  My earliest memory of interacting with this passage (although I'm sure I had heard it previously) was in middle school.  Already by this time, I had studied martial arts enough to know that, when someone throws a punch at you, you have only a few options:

1. Side step the punch, in order to counter punch
2. Block the punch, in order to counter punch
3. Absorb the punch by tensing your muscles, in order to counter punch

But in this passage, Jesus is instructing his followers to react differently to violence:

"You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you." (NRSV) 

These words of Jesus were frustrating, because I had been raised in a system of belief that taught that our most distinctive characteristics of being human were our individual rights.  When these rights were violated, justice was to be sought.  I was a firm believer in lex talionis: an eye for an eye.  

These frustrations lasted until my sophomore year of high school, when I spent a week at one of my favorite places of childhood: Green Lake Bible Camp.  I remember that this passage came up in discussion one day while in the middle of a bible study.  The chaplain at the camp for the summer shed a new revelation that made me appreciate the wisdom of Jesus' teaching about lex talionis.

She stated that Jesus' was not advocating a "get steam rolled by the enemy" mentality - ignoring the justice due to the offender - but was instead teaching a non-violent means of humiliating the perpetrator.  With her interpretation (which many people hold today), when Jesus says, "if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also," he was not laying down his pride, but was instead humiliating and shaming the offender.  The logic went something like this: if you turned your cheek after being slapped, you were forcing the perpetrator to strike you in a way that showed that they were "out of control."  The same logic of "shaming" the offender in a non-violent form has been used for the "giving of the cloak" and also the "going an extra mile" examples. (see David Ewarts one page summary on this understanding here).

The point she was making was that Jesus was a wise teacher who knew how to defeat and humiliate his opponents without using violence or violent resistance.  

I remember liking this idea.  I could still be the victor, AND I would be in line with the greatest moral teacher of all time!

As the years have passed since receiving this lesson in moral combat, I have come to question its validity.  Jesus' is not teaching a moral lesson about how to humiliate someone else, but is instead describing God's character.  God does not teach us to love our enemies so that they will be shamed by our generosity, but teaches us to love our enemies because he loves them.  Jesus was not teaching a "less violent" way to invert power roles, but was instead showing that the kingdom of God is without such roles.  

Jesus did not die in order to drive the final moral dagger into the hearts of the Pharisees and unbelievers: he died on the cross because it was the cosmic act of God's giving-ness to reconcile and restore creation.

Let us not play the games of the world, seeking power over one another via violent or non-violent means.  Jesus did not come to give lessons of morality, teaching us more holy ways of ruling over one another.  Jesus became human, died, and was raised for the reconciliation of all things.  Thanks be to God. 

Just Some Thoughts and Prayer Requests

 

Lydia Ruth is two weeks old today.  If you read my earlier post, you already know about the roller coaster ride she was on, screaming her beautifully healthy lungs as she entered into this world.  Her mother and I have also been riding a roller coaster over the last two weeks, as we have sought to move into a new home and new community, all of which began on the day of her discharge from the hospital.

Becoming a father has been an incredible gift.  Every pastor and wise person that I have known has preached a message that went something like: "becoming a parent will open your eyes to previously locked and inaccessible wisdom" (or something like that).  Jamie shared at our first church service in Westmont that she is learning how to trust God each night as she lays Lydia down into the cradle and attempts to get some sleep herself.  When talking about Lydia, Jamie made the comment that, "I can't believe you can love someone so much in such a short amount of time."  When I asked what she meant by 'love' in this statement, she replied, "Wanting to care for, provide for, and protect."  We are learning (or should I say, "experiencing") a type of love that is so much different than the "loves" we have previously experienced.

That is why, when we gathered for worship on Sunday, the icon hit so hard.  The icon was Vecellio Tiziano's "Sacrifice of Isaac" (1542-44), visually depicting the shocking story of Genesis 22.    It's a story that I have heard preached on countless of times (not to mention the number of times I have studied this passage devotionally and academically).

Never has the story troubled me to the degree it has since becoming a father.  Seeing Tiziano's Isaac character innocently bent over, kneeling atop a stack of wood, waiting to be lit as a sacrifice while his father raises a sword above his head - there are few stories that can knock the wind out of a person like this one.  The boy-Isaac's question is heartbreaking: "The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?" (Gen. 22:7)  Abraham's answer: "God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son" (Gen. 22:8).  But it isn't because of Abraham's faith or trust in God that the angel calls out to stop the sacrifice, but because Abraham feared God (Gen. 22:12).  Because Abraham feared the Lord - a fear that was more powerful than the immense love for his own son - God makes a promise:

 "I will indeed bless you, and I will make your offspring as numerous as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore.  And your offspring shall possess the gate of their enemies, and by your offspring shall all the nations of the earth gain blessing for themselves, because you have obeyed my voice" (Gen. 22:17-18) 

I am still not comfortable with this story (and in fact it has hard for me to even think about this picture as a father), but I don't think it's one of those stories that we should strive to "understand," or "imitate," or even remotely feel "good about," other than that, because of Abraham's fear and obedience, God promises to bless the nations.  This story is the story of our ancestors; the beginning moments of God's covenant made complete in Jesus Christ.

We welcome Lydia Ruth Engelhardt into our family and home as a fully loved child of God.  Many faithful saints have practiced seeing Christ in the most rejected and unthinkable persons; we are learning to see Christ in a two week old beautiful baby girl.  And it is because of God's faithfulness to the covenant made with Abraham and fulfilled in Jesus Christ that Lydia Ruth does not have to achieve the love of her father or Father, but is already called a "child of God."  

Jamie and I will continue to pray for Lydia, not because she is ours, but because she is created and loved by God.  Specific things to pray for:

• That she would gain weight (she was born at 5 lbs 2 ounces, which is fine for a 4.5 week preemie, but we would like to see her gain weight at a steady rhythm)
• That her lungs and heart would continue to develop (she shows no signs of danger in these areas, but again, because she is a preemie, we are always concerned)
• That Jamie and I will grow in patience and love as parents

Welcome to the World - Lydia Ruth Engelhardt

Lydia Ruth Engelhardt was born June 22^nd, 2010, at 1:48 PM. She was not expected until July 23^rd, 2010.

Last Friday, Jamie's doctor informed her that she was testing with high blood pressure and high protein in her urine. We were directed to go to Sherman Hospital for blood work and a 24-hour urine sample. The urine sample was turned in Monday morning, and Monday afternoon, at around 4:30 PM, we received a call from Jamie's doctor. She informed us that the urine sample came back with abnormally high levels of protein, and that we needed to go to labor and delivery as soon as possible. Neither one of us were fearful at this point, as we were both thinking that we were being directed to the unit in order to have more tests run.

When we arrived at Sherman, the nurses had obviously been expecting us with a little "too zealous" angst; it appeared that the entire nursing staff on third floor new our names already. We were directed to the room, and without explanation, Jamie was instructed to put the infamous hospital gown on and leave her other clothes "until it was time to leave" (still having no idea that this was "it").

We met our first nurse, Jennifer, shortly thereafter, and she informed us that they would probably be inducing tonight…WHAT?! It was exciting at this point. We had known that the high blood pressure and protein in urine were markers of pre-eclampsia or toxemia, and that the cure for this was to give birth to the baby. So for the next three hours we enjoyed the thought of being with our daughter sometime this week.

At 8:00 PM we finally met with the doctor. This is when it became troubling. She informed us that, typically, doctors get nervous about a patients level of protein in urine when it is at 300. Jamie, however, tested at 6,800 (I made no mistake by adding an extra zero). The doctor said that she had a consult with the high-risk doctor on the unit, and neither had seen protein this high before. The next move was to start Jamie on cervidil in order to prepare mommy for giving birth.

Neither one of us slept well during the night.

At 8:30 in the morning, we met with another doctor. She said that there had been no improvements in any of the labs. The cervidil had not worked, and every minute/hour that we waited meant a greater danger to both Jamie and the baby because of the life-threatening possibilities of eclampsia. We were informed that a cesarean section would be necessary, and necessary very soon.

BTW – Jamie, at this point, had been on high doses of Magnesium for nearly 16 hours (Mg is given to ward off the seizures that come with eclampsia), which meant that she was very foggy.

When the doctor informed us that a C-section was needed, Jamie and I instantly knew that there was not much of a question. Sure, if her levels had been questionable, or even if there was "risk" of pre-eclampsia, we would have had to think long and hard about the benefits and risks of the operation (not to mention the disappointment of this pregnancy not being "what we had expected"). However, Jamie's was an exceptional case with record breaking and terrifying markers.

Jamie was wheeled into surgery around 1:25, and Lydia Ruth Engelhardt was born at 1:48 PM. She weighed 5 pounds 2 ounces, was 19.25 in. in length, and more beautiful than we could have imagined. Lydia appears to be doing very well, although she is still in the Special Care Unit, due to being so early. However, her organs appear to be strong, her respiratory response is good, and she shows no infections. Jamie is also doing very well. She will be on Magnesium until 1:30 PM today, and then will hopefully get to see her daughter soon.

There were so many things that could have gone horribly wrong. I wrote a post a few days ago, where I expressed "how few" miracles I have prayed for in my life. We prayed for many miracles in the last 48 hours, and it appears that many of them were answered. She is a beautiful and healthy girl, made strong by her mommy, who gave her the greatest care imaginable for eight months. I am so proud of my wife. I love this little girl. And I am so thankful for all of the blessings over the last 48 hours.

Wow.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/06/18/usa-foul-call-controversi_n_617364.html

Praying for a Miracle of Adoption

 I have prayed for few miracles in my life.  This may be the result of some rationalist tendencies of my faith ("God just does not operate like that in the world anymore!"), or it may just be due to a pessimistic skepticism that "it just doesn't work."  It may also be due to the fact that, most of the churches and communities of which I have been a part of, fear any discussion of the Holy Spirit because it might lead to "too pentecostal" of a movement.

As I have been reading through the Gospel of Matthew, however, we see Jesus giving authority to his disciples (Matthew 10) to perform miraculous works of healing: healing not only of bodies and spirits, but healings of destructive social systems that forced those who are outcasts, orphaned, widowed, and despised to remain outcasts, orphans, widows, and despised.  Despite my desire to rush past the "moving mountains" passages, they cannot be ignored.

Last night we gathered with a dozen others to pray for some of our close friends who are attempting to adopt a little boy from Ethiopia.  The obstacles to completing the process seem insurmountable.  And now with the rainy season quickly approaching, any hope to complete the process in a short time is the product of faith; not a product of "what is seen."

But we are praying for a miracle.  We are praying, in faith, that these seemingly insurmountable hurdles will be movable mountains.  And we pray this not out of blind hope, or empty desires, but out of the proclamation that Jesus Christ is Lord of all the world.  That his cosmic reign is a reign over the small processes of signing documents, and Lord over the comings and goings of government workers.  That his reign is over the nutritional intake of a four month old boy in an impoverished country.  That his reign is over the orphanage workers, to shower love and care on these children.  

So we continue to pray for all those who are orphaned in this world.  For those who are seemingly "without" - without even the basic needs of survival.  We proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord over all.  We give thanks that, even though we are separated from this boy by thousands of miles, that God is the present God of mission, pursuing the redemption of all things.  

And we pray, in faith, for a miracle.  That all of the administrative requirements would be filed quickly, and that this little boy would miraculously be showered with love and with good nutrition.  

Lord, in your mercy.  Amen.

Non-profit Panera cafe: Take what you need, pay what you can - USATODAY.com

That's what Panera Bread is trying to find out this week in an outside-the-box experiment in St. Louis. It's a concept that has never been tested by a restaurant chain — and that marks a new career for Ron Shaich, who stepped down as Panera's CEO last week.

via www.usatoday.com

Panera Bread has been one of my favorite restaurants for a long time, and I am very pleased to see that they are attempting something like this!

Inside China factory hit by suicides - CNN.com

STORY HIGHLIGHTS10 people have committed suicide this year at China's Foxconn factoryProducts assembled at factory include iPhones, Dell computers, Sony devicesFoxconn has brought in counselors, launched help line, opened stress roomWages of around $300 a month compare favorably with other factories

via www.cnn.com

Crazy

Monuments and Markers of a Graduating Seminary Student

Graduation is only five days away.  Five. 

I vividly remember the exuberant celebration over a phone call that I had received a little over three years ago.  I was at work at my dad's pharmacy, and at around noon, received a call from the admissions counselor at Northern Theological Seminary: I had been selected as one of six who would receive a full ride scholarship for a seminary education.  As I celebrated with my family that night, I remember saying that I considered this award to be the most exciting achievement that I had received up until that point in my life.  

Well, a few other monumental markers have arisen in the wake of that great gift.  First, I became married to my wonderful wife Jamie.  It is not an achievement in the typical sense of "attaining," but in the sense of "committing" and "covenanting" (even if these 'vows' had to be done at a dance later in the night, rather that at the actual service).  Second, Jamie and I received news that we were to become parents.  We are expecting the birth of our daughter in July, and with great joy, anticipate the beautiful moment of welcoming her into this world.  

Over the last three years, there have been an additional number of "monumental markers."  There was the completion of C.P.E. (Clinical Pastoral Education).  It is the monster that every seminary student had feared (I have blogged about it elsewhere).  The "achievement" of chaplaincy was not in completing a requirement, but in beginning a journey of understanding how to care for the hurt, the broken, and the despised.  It was the beginning of being able to ask the question, "Why God?" without having to give a pat answer.  

There was the "paradigm shift" of my faith.  Up until seminary, my faith in Christ was a collection of beliefs about absolutes.  "Authority" on these matters was achieved by proper academic study and logical reasoning.  Through the mentoring and guidance of wonderful friends and faculty, I came to realize that the Christian faith is not about believing the right things, but that, because we do believe certain things, we are re-membered and transformed as people to live as people who hope for the renewal of all things.

Then there is a passion for the church.  Of this passion, I need to ask forgiveness from those who have walked with me over the years, and have heard me complain time and time again about the present state of the church, especially in the western world.  My opinionated rants about the failures of the church have truly come from a passion for Her, even when it did not appear so.  I became elitist and ideological: esteeming a perfect Church that could never exist, while in the mean-time knocking out the bricks of the imperfect.  The "monumental marker" here is not a "discovery of the true/untainted church," but a discovery that, wherever the faithful are gathered for the sake of God's mission in the world, there also is the true Church.  She will always be but a window into the glory of God, but she certainly will be that.

All this to say - echoing cliches and all-too-familiar sentiments - that graduation will not be the completion of my learning, but a beginning.  There have been many life-transforming markers: scholarship, marriage, baby, care, faith, understanding of the Church - just to name a few.  I look forward to encountering more of these altars on the journey, and doing so in the community of believers and unbelievers.  

Do Not Trivialize the Pains of Death - "Pulling the Plug"

I made a big mistake in my first week of C.P.E.

Clinical Pastoral Education is a requirement for all M. Div. students at Northern Theological Seminary.  We may not require the study of the ancient Greek and Hebrew languages at NTS, but we do require an immersion into patient's hospital rooms, as they are faced with the reality of mortality.  This was the most dreaded part of the M. Div. program as a first and second year student in the program.  Horror stories were told of being asked, "What is the meaning of my life?" by an eighty-five year patient who had abused his wife and children and rejected God his entire life.  It's scary because we are forced to be with people who are asking these types of questions: questions to which we do not know the answers.  The biggest problem with seminary education (and those who desire seminary education), is the perceived expectation that we will leave after three (or seven) years, owning all of the answers to life's most difficult questions.

Three days into the orientation of my Clincial studies, I was seated in the coffee shop with a group of experienced chaplains.  The oncology chaplain was seated to my left.  I was asked, "what am I most afraid of?"  I don't remember verbatim what was said, but I remember answering somewhere along the lines of, "having to tell a family that, because their loved one is brain dead, it is time to pull the plug."  I had just read an article on the medical diagnosis of "brain dead," and was certain that, when this diagnosis was given, the family no longer makes a decision to remove the patient from life support: they are already "gone."  I glanced quickly to the left, noticing the disgust on the oncology chaplains face.  She proceeded to say, "please don't ever use that phrase."  

Needless to say, I felt smaller at that moment than any other time I have imagined.  I was terrified of the largest questions of life.  Sure, these questions were easy to answer when I was in the church office and being asked by a committed believe.  Regina Spektor points to the casual nature of much theological talk:

Verse

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one's laughing at God
When they've lost all they've got
And they don't know what for

No one laughs at God on the day they realize
That the last sight they'll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one's laughing at God when they're saying their goodbyes
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they're ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious

Chorus

But God can be funny
At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or
Or when the crazies say He hates us
And they get so red in the head you think they're ‘bout to choke
God can be funny,
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus
God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha

These questions were even easy when I was asked by a happy and healthy unbeliever, casually shooting the breeze about the philosophical questions of life.  But to be asked by someone dying, or someone-who's-dying family wanting to know the meaning of life: get outta here.  

Why was this oncology chaplain so insulted by my use of the phrase, "pulled the plug"?  After nearly a year of contemplation on this question, I think it was because I trivialized the life of a human being.  We become so casual with life (at least when it is not ourselves or a loved one), becoming mechanist about the life and death patterns displayed all around us.  Even though we are believers in the eternal resurrection of the body, we start to treat our human bodies as meaningless; merely vessels, needing to be unplugged in order to enter a future life.

While my intention was never to trivialize life and death, I had done just that by using that phrase.  Taking someone off of life support is never as simple as "removing a plug."  It means being willing to enter into a questioning state of life's most difficult questions.  It means being able to stay present to families and persons in the most difficult parts of their existence, and usually not having any answers.  

I don't know why I felt compelled to blog about this tonight, nor why I was unable to blog about it until now.  Even as I think back on many of the memories of sitting in family waiting rooms as they hear the news that their loved one has died brings tears to my eyes.  The transition from this life to the next is difficult.  It is never as easy as simply "pulling a plug."  I pray for the ability to sit calmly and quietly with those who suffer when faced with the reality of death, offering not answers, but friendship and hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, as the One who conquered death and rose to eternal life.

Review of and Quotes from Stanley Hauerwas', "Hannah's Child: A Theologian's Memoir"

 I have read very few memoirs in my life.  This is not because I do not enjoy them, but because I have always been pre-occupied with other genres.  I love reading books on theology.  I love reading narrative.  I was never drawn to an intersection of these two.  

However, after a paradigm-shattering summer as a chaplain intern in the emergency department, the strict lines that I had drawn between theology and narrative became blurred.  I began to sense that "theology proper" could not - and should not - be separated from the lives of people and the cultures where God can actually be understood as active and moving.

As a student at Northern Theological Seminary, I have been immersed in the writing and thought of Stanley Hauerwas.  His work crept into my courses in ethics, as well as studies of the church.  He had a profound and influential voice on my understanding of the church.  His voice was prophetic against the staining of the church by capitalism, justice without Christ, and ethics void of formation in community.  His thought has greatly influenced my professors and friends, whose intellectual abilities I greatly respect and admire.  Although I am far from having read his work exhaustively, I consider myself to be an avid learner of his theological and philosophical reasoning.

After completing my final required reading list of graduate school on Sunday, I was ecstatic to pick up his recently published memoir, Hannah's Child: A Theologians Memoir.  I was interested to know how Hauerwas' understanding of God and the world had been shaped throughout his life.

It proved to be a marvelous read.  Hauerwas learned early on that his mother had dedicated him to the Lord's care, just as Hannah had dedicated Samuel.  Similarly, Hauerwas came to realize an additional similarity between his story and Samuels: living in an in-between time.  Samuel's in-between time was in a story of Israel's transition from judges to kings; Hauerwas' has played a "Samuel-like role," challening the religious establishment of the day, "to warn Christians that having a king is not the best idea in the world, at least if you think a king can make you safe" (4).

The memoir is an honest telling of tragedy and joy throughout his life as an academic, as a husband to a mentally ill wife, as a father, and as a preacher.  After finishing the memoir, Hauerwas was asked by friends what he had learned through the process of writing it.  He responds:

I am tempted to say that I have learned how fortunate I am to have had such good friends, but that would be stating the obvious.  I might also reply that I now realize how lucky I have been, but that would be killing time in the hope of discovering something to say.  There are other possibilities.  But in fact what i have learned is quite simple -- I am a Christian.  How interesting. (284)

Many times, when I finish a theology book, I walk away with the feeling that "I have the answers."  Or I will read a story of an unswerving saint who never questions - even to the point of death - and be motivated to go and live a great and impacting life.  After completing Hauerwas' memoir, I do not think I have all of the answers, nor do I think that I need to perfect my life in order to change the world.  I am inspired to be a person of peace and patience, because as a Christian, I can affirm that "through the cross and resurrection we have been given the time to be patient in a world of impatience." (274).  I am challenged to walk daily with my eyes open, identifying in the world instances of God's redemption and work.  I am challenged to love and serve my wife.  

I would highly recommend this book to you all.  Even if you are not aware of his impact on the discipline of theology, you will be blessed by reading an honest story of God working not through the miraculous, but through the everyday things.  I did not have a highlighter with me (as I usually do) when I began reading the memoir.  I thought that I would be reading a story of a person, where taking notes and highlighting sections over others would not be necessary; after fifteen pages, I realized that I would need multiple highlighters.  I wish that I could post all of the quotes that have forced me to stop and ponder, but this blog would be a mile long.  Therefore, below are a few of the quotes which I found to be most insightful.

Speaking about his use of "profanity" in writing and speech:

I suspect my use of profanity was more complex than simply an attempt to stay connected with my working-class roots. I also used the language of the job [bricklaying] in school and church because I discovered that speaking this way upset the pious, and I took delight in that result.  I hated the hypocrisy that niceness cloaks. 28

More quotes

But there is no substitute for learning to be a Christian by being in the presence of significant lives made significant by being Christian. 95

Nonviolence is not a recommendation, an ideal, that Jesus suggested we might try to live up to.  Rather, nonviolence is constitutive of God's refusal to redeem coercively.  The crucifixion is "the politics of Jesus." 118

My claim, so offensive to some, that the first task of the church is to make the world the world, not to make the world more just, is a correlative of this theological metaphysics.  The world simply cannot be narrated - the world cannot have a story - unless a people exist who make the world the world.  That is an eschatological claim that presupposes we know there was a beginning only because we have seen the end.  That something had to start it all is not what Christians mean by creation.  Creation is not "back there," though there is a "back there" character to creation.  Rather, creation names God's continuing action, God's unrelenting desire for us to want to be loved by that love manifest in Christ's life, death, and resurrection. 158

I have come to think that the challenge confronting Christians is not that we do not believe what we say, though that can be a problem, but that what we say we believe does not seem to make any difference for either the church or the world. 159

In response to the question about a tragic life lived:

I am a Christian theologian.  People assume I am supposed to be able to answer that question.  I have no idea how to answer that question.  If anything, what I have learned over the years as a Christian theologian is that none of us should try to answer such questions.  Our humanity demands that we ask them, but if we are wise we should then remain silent. 207

More quotes:

I am not by nature nonviolent.   It is not a natural stance.  But one slow step at a time I tried to learn not to live a life determined by what I was against.  Peace is a deeper reality that violence.  That is an ontological claim with profound moral implications.  But it takes some getting used to. 231

Finally:

Our call for the abolition of war will take time, but this is not an argument against taking first steps.  As long as it is assumed that war is always an available option, we will not be forced to imagine any alternative to war. 273

Citizens of a New Age

Having finished all of my graduate school reading and nearly all of the writing, I found time over the last two days to become immersed in Stanley Hauerwas' recent memoir, Hannah's Child: A Theologians Memoir.  I will shortly be writing a response to the book, but I was struck by one quote near the end:  

"To be baptized into Christ is to be made a citizen of a new age in this age.  To so live sometimes tempts Christians to try to force God's kingdom into existence through violence.  But that is to betray the time we have been given.  The great paradox is that the apocalyptic character of our faith not only makes the everyday possible but also enables us to see how extraordinary it is.  It is extraordinary, for instance, that we can take the time to welcome children into this world and to enjoy the time called friendship." ^246-247

Pentecost Insight - A Seed of Hope

I was warned that seminary might murder my Christian faith.  Two weeks away from graduation, I proclaim that I am still a believer in the resurrected Son of God, Jesus Christ.

However, in the process of the last three years, there has been a murder of sorts.  This is the murder of a belief in communications between persons.  The world of virtual communication has revealed to the masses the difficulties of dialog between persons of different stories.  How many "misunderstandings" of sorts have risen due to an inability to read the "tone" of someone else's intentions over a Facebook message, "Tweet", email, or blog post.  Countless friends have bemoaned this inability to communicate in the virtual world, pleading for a face-to-face communication that is becoming less frequent in our generation.  Few would defend an inherent "simplicity" within the world of virtual communication.

But I have encountered the difficulty of relating to one another as person-to-person over the last three years.  Sure, virtuality provides a second level of difficulty, but the first level itself is nearly impossible.  How is it that we can ever know what the other is really saying?  Even when we think we are speaking the same language, we later find out that we had different expectations, different hopes, and different intentions.  This is not a new observation.  Popular media has emphasized these "communication barriers" for a long time.  The 2006 movie The Breakup (featuring Jennifer Anniston and Vince Vaughn) illustrates this point.  At one point, Anniston's character says to Vaughns: "I want you to want to do the dishes."  Communication between persons is layered with histories, cultural heritage, and desires.

Over the past few years, I have become almost fatalistic about communication.  I have thought that we could never really understand one another, but merely grasp little pieces of the other.

But today we celebrate Pentecost.  Today we proclaim that Christ is Risen; we proclaim that the Holy Spirit is present in the world, through the Church, and through God's people.  Acts 2 describes the day when people gathered together, when suddenly a sound came like a rushing wind, appearing as of fire above each one.  Each began to speak in other languages.  Yet, the question is asked: "How is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?" (Acts 2:8).  This day we celebrate our commonality; to each believer in Christ is given the power of the Holy Spirit.

I don't know the full implications of this day in the Church calendar, nor the implications of this insight.  I have mourned the impossibility of communication over the last few years, but today I have a seed of hope.  I have a seed of hope to hear one another, in spite of our vast differences, expectations, and dreams.  I proclaim that we are united together by a common history that makes communication possible: the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  

I am filled with joy today at the possibility of hearing and understanding those who seem so different (and those who seem so similar) to me.  I pray today for the ability to really listen to those who I judge too quickly, those who I dismiss to arrogantly, and those who I embrace without caring to know who they really are.  

Thank you Lord, for sending the Holy Spirit, to continue empowering and guiding the Church into a vessel for reconciliation for the world.

Looking Through History to Understand the Present

I did a quick re-design of the blog this afternoon, specifically because I wanted to add a picture to the header (which didn't really work with the previous design).  That picture was taken while in the Republic of Georgia, and it too (like the bottle of Cognac), has taught me something about theology.

If you look closely at the center, you'll notice that it tunnels back and back, until it hits a wall with some green vines growing on it.  But if you look at the bottom-left of that wall, you'll notice that there is an additional "window" through which you can see the sky beyond the cathedral.  And if you could zoom in further, you would notice that there is a light post in that window.  And if you could continue zooming, you would see in the distance, one of the newest cathedrals in Georgia.  

As a 25 year old, I am part of a generation that naturally questions authority and history.  We read the writings of the "new atheists" - who flaunt the atrocities of religion through history - and we readily see their message applying to the chaos and disorder of our experienced lives.  We react against the written pages of history, and have turned to "our own experience" as the sole arbiter of truth.

But like this picture shows, we are meant to look through the ages of the past in order to "rightly" see the things of the present.  We are not summoned to return to those cultural structures, or "return to the good [or bad] old days," but to look through our history, in order to better understand the present.  

 A good many of the pictures that we took in Georgia were point-blank shots at the modern cathedrals.  These are beautiful images.  The cathedrals are breathtaking.  However, the modern cathedral - with its gold trimmings, magnificent icons, and glorious halls - is nothing more than a performance of the glittering goods of the present age.  This is why it is so much more fruitful to look through the tunnels of the past in order to the see the present; to see that all the glittering things of our lives are passing away.  But this type of perspective also shows that something lasts, and this is particularly the stories that we tell and the lives that have been changed through our faithful witness.

I earlier posted a video by Dr. Jeremy Begbie, in which he talks about the importance of recreation for Christians, rather than creation itself.  We are not called to begin anew in our life in this world, but nor are we called to simply return to an earlier moment.  We are called to look through our historical lens in order to best interpret the present, always with the hope that is Jesus Christ, for the future.  The image at the header of this page visually communicates this paradigm, and I appreciated this nugget of wisdom enough to re-design the blog around it.

Hospitality - The Georgian Way

 It feels strange to post a picture of a bottle of Cognac at the top of a blog post.  But the bottle of Cognac pictured on the left is associated with a particularly wonderful story (I realize that many people could post a picture of a liquor bottle and say, "Boy, do I ever have a story for you!").  This story is unique in that it represents the hospitality that I have written about and preached about for years.

In June of 2008, I traveled to the Republic of Georgia for a graduate course in World & Religion Studies.  We were in waters above our heads the entire week.  Our professor was friends with the (Arch)Bishop of the Baptist Church in Georgia, and we were invited as guests to his wedding.  Friends and delegates from all over the world were at this great celebration: Bishop Stephen Platten of Wakefield, BWA General Secretary Dr. Neville Callam, His Excellency the Ambassador of Great Britian, along with many-many more.

Yet, amidst the religiously elite and powerful, we experienced an unheard of hospitality among the poor.  We were welcomed into homes, given beds to sleep on (only to find that the hosts themselves were sleeping on the floors in the hallway), fed the finest foods and wines, which would have  certainly used up a significant portion of their resources.  All of this for a few American students, privileged to know-someone-who-knows-someone-who-knows-someone.  All six of students have had to ask (and are probably still asking), "Why us?"

That, however, is a question for another blog post: this post is a story about Cognac and hospitality.

After traveling west of Tbilisi (capital of Georgia) for a few days, we returned to the capital to prepare for the wedding festivities.  Myself, Paul Rollet, Mike Moore, and Ruthanne Burre, were taken to our guest housing for the remainder of our stay.  We dropped off our bags and personal items and returned to the Bishop's basement for worship.  After a day of activity and meeting new international friends, we returned to the hosts home at roughly 11:00 P.M.  We had attempted to sneak into the home without disturbing our hosts, but were met almost immediately by Goche, who was waiting for us in front of the television.  

Introductory handshakes and greetings were exchanged, which led to Goche's memorable words: "We drink!"  We had prepared to participate in nine toasts of wine at every meal in Georgia, and assumed that Goche was merely adding a few more glasses of evening wine to the docket.  He scurried off into a back room, and a few seconds later emerged with the bottle of Cognac in the picture.  His face displayed such pride in that bottle; a gift that had been given to him from a friend from Armenia 10+ years ago (not the Armenian Cognac you buy at Jewel Osco, but Armenian-Armenian Cognac).  He had been saving this bottle for a special occasion.

A special occasion?  We were his special occasion?  Here we were: four graduate students from a small seminary in the suburbs of Chicago, who by some strange luck were allowed to celebrate in the wedding festivities of the Archbishop.  But that's what was important to Goche: we were his guests.  He had been asked by the leaders of the Baptist Church in Georgia if he would be willing to host some international guests for a few days.  Archbishop Malkhaz had been his childhood friend, and he had been asked by this friend to host.  

What if we all viewed our guests with such open arms and care?  What about our enemies and strangers?  We felt as if we were the most important people in the world around Goche.  We had value.  We were cared for.  Isn't this hospitality?  Welcoming everyone - friend, foe, and stranger - into our homes and lives puts on display the loving character of God, who welcomes all with open arms and open hands.  In a society where people are valued almost solely for their social status, material possessions, and marketable skills, the call to be hospitable to "the least of these" strikes with a passionate force. 

Goche was asked by his friend - the Archbishop of Georgia - to host a few guests for a few days.  We all have been asked by God - the lover of all people - to become hosts and lights for all the world.  

The bottle of Cognac has come to represent the valuing of people in my life.  It has caused be to pause and see the worth in each person.  At some point, we are to retreat into the back room and retrieve our valuables to be shared with the guest.  For Goche, this was a bottle of Cognac: for those who have put their faith in Christ, it may be reconciliation, or it might just be a human hand of peace.

 

  

 

Grandma's Quilt

 

My mom has an incredible gift of crafting and caring.  She made the quilt above as a gift for our little girl, and every time we pull it out we are amazed at the beauty of it.  We can imagine laying it on the floor and allowing our daughter to wonder at the colors, patterns, and fabric choices: it will be a world of exploration for a newborn.

Mom, I am so thankful for you this weekend.  You have taught us how to care for one another and think of others first.  We love you so much.  

 

Grandpa Gumm and A Few Funny Pictures (not of grandpa)

 

 

My grandfather passed away one year ago today (pictured above,not below).  He was a wonderful man, who loved God and loved his family.  The anniversary of a loved one who has died is cause for both celebration and mourning; our family has expressed both of these emotions throughout the day via email conversations and Facebook updates.  

I would like to add a little humor.  I received the following pictures in an e-mail today, and they added some laughter to the day.  Enjoy!

                         

Does Anyone Have the Gift of Evangelism Anymore?

 Few people in my generation want to claim the spiritual gifting of evangelism.  There is a general skepticism about this aspect of the Christian life, and much of Evangelicalism as a whole has framed - very poorly - their theological reasons for proclamation.  In my own experience, the launchpad for evangelism was framed in one of the following ways:

1. Jesus Christ commanded us to do it, therefore we do it.  Jesus' final words recorded in the gospel of Matthew: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."  At the heart of evangelical theology is the belief that we are free from the law; we are saved by grace through faith.  I am very curious why the most readily adopted motive for partaking in evangelism is because Jesus has "commanded us to do so," when, in every other situation, we stake and proclaim our utter "freedom" from the law.  
2. If we don't convert them, then they will burn in eternal hell.  The motive for evangelism within this framework is that, unless we share the gospel with the unsaved, they will forever be tormented.  The evangelist therefore operates under a fear for lost souls.  Besides the issue that I take up with this understanding of hell, attempting to win converts by selling or giving away a "get outta jail free card" is largely unsupported in the Biblical text.  Earlier this month, Dan Kimball wrote an article about the Christian doctrine of hell, where he states that "Too often, I think we’ve subtly made hell the primary motivation for salvation and the Gospel, altering or losing the beauty of the holistic Gospel (I Cor. 15). The Gospel is not just about what happens when we die, but about our lives being changed here."

I suggest that both of these beliefs, as impetuses for evangelism, have fallen drastically short of a fully evangelical and fully biblical understanding of proclamation of the good news.  John Stott suggests that our first and foremost motive for sharing the good news of the victory is a "burning zeal (even 'jealousy') for the glory of Jesus Christ."¹  This is where I have especially appreciated the theology of the Missional Church, and how we are then to live as witnesses to the glory and the victory of Christ.

Evangelism then is neither something we do out of obedience to a command, nor is something that we do in order to save others: instead, because of the reality of the lordship of Christ that has been won, we are transformed into people and communities who naturally embody this reality to the world!

This type of evangelism, where we live our lives passionately and authentically, is what my generation longs for.  We distrust institutions, but we trust localized communities.  We see power and manipulation behind nearly everyone and everything, and therefore we need lasting relationships of shared experience in which trust has been built over time.  The pluralistic society we live in is not opposed to the Christian faith, and nor is it even opposed to sharing that uniquely Christian faith with others.  What it is opposed to is the objective pronouncement of eternal judgment (heaven or hell) apart from relationship.  It is opposed to the hypocrisy within stating, "There is new life in Christ," and having no corresponding impact on one's life and actions in the here and now.

Evangelism is not the big scary word that I once thought it was.  The politically liberal agenda of a society in which each individual is allowed a private faith,but a faith that must remain behind the "veil" of public influence and dialog, creates a dualistic split that is foreign to the holistic new creation that Christians proclaim.  Evangelism is not the private action of the few in forcefully talking about abstract truths, but is the everyday public embodiment of new life, new community, and new hope found in Jesus Christ.  

_______________

¹John Stott, Evangelical Essentials: A Liberal-Evangelical Dialogue (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1988), 329.

Transitioning to a Lifestyle of Staying Put

Dan Lugo posted recently about the "unsettled" feeling of transition that has once again creeped into his life.  I, too, have experienced this feeling of transience lately: actually, for the past seven years I have known nothing besides transition.  The encroaching days ahead are different.  For the first time in my adult life, I am seeking after a long term job.  We are planning a move to Westmont IL for a minimum of five years.  We are looking to plant roots in this community, where we will slowly and humbly begin weaving our lives and our children's lives together with those of our neighbors.  This time, the transition is not a rest stop, but a long-term planting.

The constant moving and transience that have marked the last seven years of my life will give way to planting roots and sinking in.  As I write this, I am sitting at "Brewed Awakening" coffee shop in Westmont, IL, where every customer thus far has known every other customer (besides me, of course).  The employees have known the desired drinks of these customers before ordering.  Two men are seated at a six-top table next to mine, discussing everything relevant and important - from the Blackhawks to the Arizona law.  No less than four people have joined them at that table throughout my time here.  The tables are non-uniform: some graced with lamps, and others with National Geographic magazines; the walls are covered with local artwork (including a collection of children's drawings); the bookshelf in the corner is filled with an eclectic collection of coffee beans, mugs, trashy fiction novels, and chess boards.  

The constant moving - always looking forward to something more exciting and different - has finally lost its appeal.  As seminary education wraps up in the next six weeks, I am aware that the future is just as exciting as it has always been, but for different reasons: I'm excited that we are not left alone to raise our children, but can rely on a community.  I'm excited to regularly share meals with friends and strangers.  I'm excited to be somewhere long enough to have experiences worthy of great celebration and great mourning.

Jeremy Begbie - Theology Through the Arts

Jeremy Begbie has a rather unique and wonderful contribution to theological studies.  He is the current Thomas A. Langford Research Professor at Duke University, and vividly stands out as a proponent of theological studies through the arts.  The video below is delightful.  

Begbie has been focused on answering the questions "What can music or the arts bring to theology?" and  "How can the particular powers of music help us unlock the great truths of the Christian gospel?" over the past few years.  For Begbie, the mix of art and theology is not creation, but re-creation.  

"We're always working with a given,always taking something and remaking it." 

Examples of what he means in this re-creation process is in the video below.  

ETS2010 - Wright and Piper

Just three days before the Wheaton Theology Conference, John Piper, Albert Mohler, John McArthur and R.C. Sproul were together for the T4G2010 Conference.  I am sure the differences between these two conferences stood out plain as day, and much of the content of one was dealing negatively with the content of the other (at least to a degree).  Brett McCracken was at both, and his written a wonderful article that looks at both of them.

"The elephant in the room"  (as expressed at the Wheaton conference) is the differing views on justification within Pauline writings (Piper's most recent paper contended that this understanding of justification is also located in Jesus' teachings).  Wright and Piper have squared off before in writing, but will do so in person in November of this year at the Evangelical Theological Societies Annual Meeting.  

This looks like it will be a wonderful conference where they will hopefully stop "talking past one another," and instead discuss the methodological issues that lead to such difference.

Go Forth in Unity - Final N.T. Wright Presentation

Three of the most insightful quotes from N.T. Wright's final presentation at the Wheaton Theology Conference:

 "Don't so stress the doctrine of your own salvation that you fail to see what we are all being saved from."

 "Creation longs to be gently stewarded by the sons and daughters of God."

 "We need theology, not so we can know that we are right or have it all worked out, but because without thoughtful investigation, the worldview of one-unified Church will not be able to sustain itself."

I am grateful for having had the privilege of listening to such humble and provoking dialog over the past few days.  Before leaving the chapel last night, the 1,100 conference goers - pastors, theologians, seminary students, authors, and laymen - received the benediction to go forth in unity, into the world, in the power of the Holy Spirit.  One of the final questions posed to Wright was, "When is schism acceptable in the church?"  In a brief but passionate reply, Wright answered, "Never." 

Although those who gathered at the conference may have had vastly divergent theological interpretations of Jesus, Paul, and the People of God, we left under the commission to be a unified embodiment of God's kingdom to the world.  May God give us greater passion in seeking the unity of Christ' body here on earth, and may we go forth to be compelling lights shining in the dark places of the world.

 

  

 

Flowers in Our Midst - The "Already" of the Kingdom

 It's one thing to be able to articulate a theology or doctrinal assertion of the "now-but-not-yet" - born out of the formulations in the New Testament - but it's an entirely different matter to describe the way in which this reality is seen in the everyday routines of life.  A brief survey of the gospel texts reveals that Jesus came preaching not a type of "get outta jail (Earth) free card," but rather that the kingdom of God had come near (Mark 1:15).  This proclamation of the nearness of the kingdom of God was not just a statement or profession to be believed in, but was an invitation.  It is an invitation to turn from unfaithfulness and turn towards faithfulness.  It is an invitation to learn, and an invitation to work.

In this new creation there is good news for the poor, release for the captives, recovery of sight for the blind, and freedom for the oppressed (Lk 4:18): or at least the text says that there is.  The gospels themselves testify to moments when Jesus healed the sick, ate with the poor, and restored dignity to the outcast.

But was this simply a kingdom that was here and gone?  A fleeting moment of God's nearness with us?  An inkling of a better world?  

There's little wonder why the "already" or "now" or "nearness" doctrines of the church, in regards to the kingdom of God, are doubtful to a world who faces the genocide of ethnic groups, the obliteration of creation for insatiable consumptive desire, and the hypocritical judgment of sexual promiscuity.  The list of accusations against the reality of this new creation can appear daunting to those who cling on to what the world calls a "doctrine of ignorance."  Proponents of the new atheist perspective (Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris, etc.) make their careers out of highlighting the pain in the world, much of which they identify as created by the hand of religious ilk.  

Kevin Van Hoozer presented a paper this morning at the Wheaton Theology Conference, in which he asserted that it's very easy to make a positive statement (i.e. "There is a spider in the room" or "a flower is growing among thorns"), but it takes an extensive sweep and inspection to make a negative statement ("There is not a single spider in the room" or "Nothing but thorns can ever grow here").  

 The problem with stating that "the kingdom is not at hand," is that spiders and flowers are continually sighted.  Desmond Tutu opposes apartheid in South Africa.  Martin Luther King Jr. marches for racial reconciliation.  International aid rushes to the victims of natural disasters in Haiti, Burma, and Chile.  But we need not simply look to international heroes as sole icons of an "already" nearness of the kingdom.  Men and women choose to lay down firearms and pick up coffee mugs as a response to difference.  Neighbors dine with one another.  Relationships are strengthened through conflict, as opposed to destroyed.  

Every week we gather around the Eucharistic table, where we are not given a theory of unity or a theoretical doctrine of God's presence with us, but a reality that we can participate in; something to taste, eat, and share with the world.  To the world, this may be an insignificant act: to faithful follower's of Christ, this is the birthing of a garden in our midst.  

The sighting of flowers in the midst of a hurting world does not eliminate  pain, but it makes it difficult to negatively state, "God's kingdom is not here." 

This is the joy of the 40 days of Easter.  "He is Risen!  He is risen indeed" We proclaim this continually during the season, and we open our eyes to see these flowers in the world.  We do not simply proclaim this as a truth, but dive into its reality and participate in its call.  We open our homes to one another.  We work towards reconciliation and justice.  We forgive when we want to hate.  

May we learn to see the kingdom among us, and may we be symbols of that kingdom to others.  

Portrait from a Second Grader

This was the highlight of my day.  A second grade boy was not able to take his math MAP test today because of a glitch in the computer system.  This student is labeled as one of the "behavioral problem" students in the school.  He is disruptive in class, he bullies other students, and he shows no sign of motivation for learning.  I am always told to isolate this student while in the lab, so as not to disturb other students who want to learn.

Because his test didn't work, he was forced to sit quietly in front of a blank computer screen for the next 45 minutes; yeah right.  After the teacher told this student to "sit still" and "be quiet" a couple of times, I gave him a piece of paper and pencil to draw; he seemed indifferent towards this option.

But after a few minutes he picked up the pencil and began to draw.  A few minutes later, I asked him what he was drawing: "I'm drawing you...the nice computer teacher!" 

I am taking this drawing home to hang on our fridge. 

Non-Freedom and Baby Registries

 

 

Augustine's famous confessional summary of stealing a pear:

 

“Yet had I been alone I would not have done it – I remember my state of mind to be thus at the time – alone I never would have done it.  Therefore my love in that act was to be associated with the gang in whose company I did it.  Does it follow that I loved something other than the theft?  No, nothing else in reality because association with the gang is also a nothing.” (Augustine, Confessions, 33)

 

This was the feeling I had Monday night as Jamie and I went to register for our baby girl at Babies ‘R Us and Target.  We were in the company of a capitalistic gang, whose chief aim was profit and power.  We were given an electronic scanner and a list of all that we “needed” and were told to go play.  While this experience is couched in the language of freedom – freedom to scan the items that we want for our little girl and freedom from external coercion – we were actually imprisoned to the system that scripts us to need the decorative and the latest.

 

We are told that the acquisition of these goods will allow for a happy and healthy life for our family, regardless of whether we - quite literally - become enslaved in debt.  Augustine describes the way in which he loved the association with the group more than he loved the act or the ends itself; for the end is in itself a “nothing.” 

 

We are lured into these same forces all the time.  In our virtual world, the gangs to which we desire association are often not people, but particular lifestyles and narratives that give meaning and purpose.  The gangs of advertisers, who have focused not on product description but purchaser desire, are often better at knowing human desires (and shaping those desires) than is the church.  As a soon-to-be parent, I realize that my own desire for “good things” for my baby has been scripted from the earliest of ages by forces concerned not necessarily with the ends towards which humanity moves, the narrative of a faithful God redeeming the cosmos, but of profit and power.

 

I am thankful today for friends and family who are able to describe the actual needs for new parents.  I am happy that there are those whom we trust who can point out the silliness of stealing a peach; an act foreign to rightly formed desire.  I am thankful that I am not left as an individual on an island that is left only to say, “Alone I never would have done it.”  This may have been true for Augustine, but left to my own desires that have been shaped by the gang, I will consistently choose to take the peach.   

Update and Prayer Request

The weight of finding a job upon graduation is finally penetrating my emotions and my general health.  Being disciplined in tackling homework and chores always came easy: not so the last few months.  These things no longer appear to be worthy ends in themselves, but holdups from doing the really important work of sending out resumes and filling out applications.  I quickly set these tasks aside, open the computer and navigate to a search engine; but my enthusiasm dies quickly.  I realize that I am not qualified for even the smallest handful of jobs, and the ones that I do find, well, these are all being advertised to the masses of unemployed persons, each of whom are equally and desperately searching for employment.    

Both my undergraduate and graduate work over the last seven years has focused on music, technology, theology, and biblical studies.  The goal was always to graduate and take on a full-time pastoral ministry position, which would provide a salary capable of providing for my family and sustaining a general "comfortable" life.  

All of this seems to have changed in the last seven months.  I won't go into all of the theological reasons for it, but Jamie and I are now pursuing a path of bi-vocational ministry in Westmont, IL.  We believe that the best use of the local churches funds are not in paying salaries, but in doing acts of goodness, mercy, and justice.  This means that we find jobs in the community and relate to neighbors not as an exclusive group of religious professionals, but as co-workers, laborers, salesmen, technologists, nurses, cashiers, garbage men, drivers, etc.  

But now we face the dilemma of being uneducated and unexperienced in fields that would supply us with a sustainable income.  All of this is draining.  I am exhausted and feel defeated tonight, after spending much of the day searching for jobs.  When I originally created this blog, I fully intended to never use it as a space to "bare my soul" or as a type of personal-diary-gone-public.

But Jamie and I are feeling the weight of what seems to be an already defeated job-search.  We ask for your prayers in the upcoming months as we prepare for the birth of our little girl, the completion of graduate work, and the transition into a new community, with the desire of witnessing to redeemed and reconciled lives in Jesus Christ our Lord.

"White Flag Warriors" - FloBots

 I was caught off guard the other day while listening to the radio.  The four stations that I have programmed into the car memory are National Public Radio, KLOVE, classical music, and Q101 Heavy Rock.  If I had to narrow it down, I would have to say that hard rock has always been my favorite genre.  Be it because of my instrumental love of drums and guitar or because of the adrenaline surge, I find myself most drawn to listen to the beats of heavy rock. 

However, the amount of sex, drug, and rage references are usually too much to bear.  As I was driving to Chicago a few days ago, a song came on Q101 that quickly drew my attention.  It had the rapcore sound that I loved and featured the well-known voice of Tim McIlrath of the Chicago band, Rise Against.  But one line in particular stood out: "We'd rather make our children - martyrs than murderers." 

When I got back home, I did a google search and found out that it was written by the band Flobots, who have actively engaged in non-violent response at the local and national level.  I recommend checking the song out.  I was thankful for this type of message to be spreading through a genre that is typically characterized by violence.  The following are a few lines from the song (not in order), and below that is the music video hosted on the band website. 

We request to negotiate
We come to you unarmed
We desire to communicate
You cannot do us harm

This is love this is not treason
Won’t study war no more this millennium
It’s never again to me or anyone
So think harder when you refer to us
Rather make our children martyrs than murderers

They shell dwellings to quell the shelling
They lift taboos to seduce the cowards
They say we’re too yellow-bellied
But we say we’re the new superpower

We seek waivers to not be liable
We claim to speak for a higher truth
We stand opposed to the homicidal
We tell you you’re fireproof

 

Did Jesus Intend to Found a Church?

On a number of occasions over the last few years, I have heard the complaint and critique against the Christian church of the history books, who with abusive liberty took the moral teachings of Jesus and created a separate church in his name.  This church distorted the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount into a new religious sect; something that Jesus himself certainly would not have wanted.  Therefore, the task of revolutionaries presented with this prophetic understanding of the imperial church is to return to a "church-less" following of Jesus - one that takes seriously the ethical teachings of Jesus, and allows these teachings to be the end in and of themselves.

N.T. Wright addresses this issue in the seventh chapter of Jesus and the Victory of God.  The problem with the question, "Did Jesus intend to found a 'church'?" is that it cannot be answered with a 'yes' or a 'no'.  Instead, Wright argues that...

"Jesus did not intend to found a church because there already was one, namely the people of Israel itself.  Jesus' intention was therefore to reform Israel, not to found a different community altogether." (275)

When we take into account the stories, praxis, questions, and symbols of the Jewish framework - those things that form the paradigm for interpreting the world - we simply cannot resolve to limit Jesus' goal to that of a great moral teacher.  Jesus' ministry can be summarized as proclaiming that the kingdom of God was at hand; repent and believe.  The exile has ended!  The Messiah has come!  It is even now at hand!  The faithfulness of Yahweh has not been abandoned; the covenant is lasting. 

It is undeniably true that Jesus worked to call his followers into embodying this new community, which would be shaped by love, hospitality, and generosity.  Preaching that the long awaited for exodus and universal reign of God were at hand would certainly have had moral implications.  But the point of Jesus ministry was certainly not to start a new type of church or religion, nor was it simply to provide moral guidelines for living an acceptable life: instead, Jesus subverted the expectations of the Jewish story and reformed it with the unfolding mystery of God's plan.

Why is this important?  While the critiques of many of those embittered by the religiosity and corruption of the church throughout history have opened our eyes to failures that must be repented of and corrected, the answer cannot be to swing towards a gospel of a Jesus who merely preached morality.  This is simply not what Scripture says, especially when read in light of the cultural context of which it was written.  What we can be certain of is that Jesus believed the climactic, eschatological event of the redeeming and faithful God, to have broken into historical reality.  This was not simply a fact to believed.  Proclaiming the kingdom at hand was a way of calling those who could hear to live in this spectacular reality. 

Yes - the reality of the in-breaking of the kingdom meant a new way of being in the world which Jesus taught.  Yes - those who caught hold of this were called into a new way of being together.  The answer to "Did Jesus intend to found a church?" is best answered by saying that Jesus preached a subversive message to that of Jewish expectation, which would necessarily have transformed praxis and community.

Beauty and the Beast

 Jamie and I were blessed with the opportunity to see the hit-Broadway musical, Beauty and the Beast, while on tour in Chicago last night.  It was a delightful evening with my bride, but the show itself was in great need of the fine-tuning and tweaking that typically make Broadway theater shine above the rest.  

First of all, the sound system was very low, making it difficult to pick up the nuanced dialog (tone, pitch, rhythm, etc.) that creates the emotion in scenes.  This was particularly apparent with the character of the  Beast, who (according to character), has a loud, bellowing, and angry voice, which should have been felt, rather than followed by, "What did he say?"  

Second, the microphones kept shorting out!  This was happening most often to the characters of Cogsworth (clock) and the unnamed Dresser.  Sometimes this was no more than annoying, but at other times, the harmonies were shattered, and at others, the conversation completely lost.  

 Third, during the audience favorite, "Be Our Guest," a number of characters playing dining utensils lifted bugles to their mouths - each bugle having a flag hanging down that had a letter to spell "B-E   O-U-R   G-U-E-S-T."  Somehow the bugles got switched and it ended up spelling "B-E   O-U-R    S-E-U-G-T."  Again, nothing to horrible, but not typical of other Broadway shows that we have seen in the past.  

Finally, we couldn't have been more disappointed with the transformation of the Beast into the Prince.  I had anticipated this moment, thinking that there would come a thrilling light show, or some type of set-special-effect, or at minimum some stage-fog; instead, the stage went black and the pit orchestra played some less-than-climactic song.  This lasted for a good thirty seconds or more, and when the lights came back on, the Beast had transformed.  I WAS SO DISAPPOINTED!

But given all the complaints, it was an absolutely wonderful night.  The best part of the night (besides spending time with you, hunny :)), was watching all the little girls dressed up in yellow dresses, wishing that they were Bell (at least, the final Bell).  There was such excitement in their eyes.

I don't mean to be too much of a grouch, but I probably would not recommend spending the money to see this play on tour.  My guess would be that all of my critiques are due to its being the 2nd night of the showing and being a tour production.    
 

 

 

Beauty - Universal or Contextual?

I have recently been consumed with perceptions of beauty.  Jamie and I live with some very good friends - Thomas and Jean Sharp - and Thomas often comments about the various controversial understandings of beauty within architecture: Do all people of all time have a common criteria for judging something as beautiful or ugly, or is beauty locally defined according to cultural context and history?  Is beauty only found in orderliness and structure, or also in chaos and destruction?  (sorry, Thomas, for butchering these questions and philosophical inquiries).

These questions are consuming, not only because Jamie and I await the birth of our daughter - who will be bombarded with competing and influential definitions of beauty - but because we are approaching Holy Week, where beauty is paradoxically defined through the cross and resurrection.  It is difficult to project beauty as we know it back on the events of Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Day.  What is beautiful about a man riding in on a donkey, making an in-glorious entrance into the religious/political center of the Middle East?  What is beautiful about sharing a meal in an upper room with a small band of followers?  Where is the beauty in washing someones feet?  

Finding beauty in these events is relatively easy when compared to finding beauty in a death; but not just a death, a torturous crucifixion!  Is there beauty as we know it in the act of burying another?  Is there beauty in mourning?  

The wonder of Holy Week is not that we are able to look upon it with modernistic-culturally formed perceptions of beauty and identify beautiful aspects.  It is not a beauty which is universally perceived; in fact, it is quite ugly and detestable to that which our culture defines as beautiful.  It is not beautiful in the demythologized sense of getting to the deep spiritual core.  

Holy Week is not beautiful: it defines beauty.

In this sense, I am certain that beauty does in fact exist in a universal and complete form, but that we can only grasp glimpses of this beauty by being wholly present within our cultural traditions.  In this sense, beauty is seen in the ordered and structured, just as God has revealed Himself as the creator not of chaos, but of order.  But there are also times when this order and beauty is on display in the destruction of oppressive power structures, leaving all who are left behind in humility and dependence.  There are times when we look upon a Cathedral as the epitome of God's beauty and majesty, and other times as symbols of distortion and idolatry.  There may be times when constructing a place of worship that tells of God as King of the Universe is not in building a mulit-million dollar cathedral, but by gathering in the basement of a house for prayer and silence.  

  

 
 This opens us up to listen to one another, giving a particular ear to the poor, the oppressed, and the marginalized in our society, who otherwise are cast to the side and deemed as ugly; ugly to a progressive and pure display of form and a structured society devoid of their presence.  The beautiful society expected and hoped for was turned on its head in the incarnation and events of Holy Week.  Jesus displayed beauty through poverty.  Jesus displayed beauty through humility.  Jesus displayed beauty through death.  But all of these beauties make sense only through the Christian profession that "what God has always been doing is setting things right - for the entire cosmos."

So...

• Is God's beauty seen in order and structure?  Yes
• Is God's beauty seen in destruction and seemingly-chaotic circumstances?  Yes
• Is the ugliness of our sin seen in order and structure?  Yes
• Is the ugliness of our sin seen in chaos?  Yes

We need one another to see where beauty is on display, and we need one another to see where ugliness is on display.  We need to listen specifically to those who have no voice in defining the beauty of the world - the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized.  May we be open to seeing the beauty of God working in the world in the upcoming weeks, as we mourn the sin that separates us from God and celebrate the beauty of reconciliation and redemption!

Shamrock Shuffle 2010

It was hard to believe that I would have to put on so many layers of clothing this morning.  I awoke at 6:30 AM and immediately navigated to weather.com on my phone, only to have the anticipated fears of cold weather and rain confirmed.  Two days earlier I had spent the afternoon lounging in the backyard with a good cigar and a good book: now there was snow everywhere.    

It was the morning of the Shamrock Shuffle, and although I wanted to run this race the previous two years, this was the first time that I submitted my registration on time.  This year there were 36,000 participants to run the Chicago 8K race, and there would certainly have been many more if it had not been capped at that.

I ran a half-marathon in 2007 in New Prague, MN.  While I don't recall exactly, I remember the theme of the race was cows and milk; lets just say that the Shamrock Shuffle carried with it a much different (and more exciting) atmosphere.  It was a great time.  People were excited about the outfits they were wearing, many of whom had been planning their costume for months.  Seas of green spandex, Luck' of the Irish shirts, red beards, tall green hats - people excitedly talking about the races they were signed up for in the next few months and those that they had previously ran.  Nostalgic stories of previous Shuffles were told to friends and strangers alike.  There were no outsiders in these waves of people - everyone had something in common.

The race was scheduled to begin at 9:00 AM, but those in the second wave (like myself) did not approach the Starting line until closer to 9:25 AM.  I had hoped to average ten minute miles, and I actually ended up beating that goal by 30 seconds per mile, finishing in approximately 47 minutes.  It felt good to have accomplished this as a beginning landmark in the training for the Magellan Chicago Spring Half Marathon to take place in May.

There is a camaraderie in running these races that is not seen in many other places.  The race is not between you and the "other," but this does not mean that it is without competition.  Competitions both large and small are formed constantly throughout the race: "Can I pass that guy with the blue hat?"  "Can I keep a faster pace up the hill than when running on flat terrain?"  "Can I keep up with the gal who just passed me?"

Most days I tell people that I really don't enjoy running, but that I see the importance in doing so.  Today, however, despite the interrupted sleep and dreary cold weather, I state with honesty that I enjoyed the run.  I won every competition that I had formed and came up against.  I enjoyed being in and among people of laughter and excitement.  I enjoyed the kinship that I felt with people who I would probably never see again.

It was a great race and a great jolt of encouragement as I face another eight weeks of training before the half.  

    

 

 

 

Education Budget Cuts in District U-46

 The media-machine has announced, over the last few months, that the dread and drear of the potential depression has surrendered to a rising economy.  “The night has passed, and the morning has come.”

However, as an employee of School District U-46, I arrived at Century Oaks Elementary School yesterday morning to find that thirteen of fifty-one employees - this school alone -are being let go next year, due to budget cuts at all levels; this is over twenty percent.  These are not bad teachers and bad para-educators.  In fact, working at this school renewed my hope for public education of our students.  Despite the standards that need to be met, the diversity of students, and the economic disadvantages of the students, these teachers care for the students.  They care for their home life.  These teachers can be seen crying with their students.  They boisterously celebrate the successes of their students, whether it is in passing a test or getting an answer right or owning up to making a mistake. 

These are good teachers who are losing their jobs, and it truly is the students that are punished.  I realize that there are no easy solutions to the education problem – at any level – but this cannot be the only way. 

As a Christian who believes that Jesus Christ as Lord, I struggle to have words to say to comfort and encourage others in this time.  As someone who has studied for many years to become a faithful and obedient worker in the Church, I have never expected to make money.  Neither have these teachers.  Yet we entrust our kids lives and education to them. 

I ask for your prayers for all of the teachers and support staff that has lost their jobs over the past few days.  

Harmony and Dissonance

The final lecture-driven course of New Testament Theology was focused on unity and diversity within the New Testament.  It concluded with an analogy using music theory terms of harmony and dissonance.  The proposal was that dissonance is not a "bad" thing, but rather always moves towards resolution.  When we approach texts that appear to be contradictory in nature (i.e. James emphasis on faith and works and Paul's emphasis on faith alone), we are not required to skip over them, nor add additional notes to make a "clean chord," but rather we sit with a listening ear and honestly confess that, "although this doesn't sound just as my ear wants it to, somehow it is part of the composer's composition."

The beauty in the analogy is its ability to allow the listener (as well as the violinist) to listen with one another.  In fact, as the violinist we utterly depend on listening to the 2nd violins, the 3rd cellos, and the 1st violas.  It means that we hear and play the music of the composer with those who find beauty and resolve at different points in the composition.

This analogy further raises the question of the formation of the ear to distinguish between what is in harmony and what is dissonant.  It may be assumed that when the first, third, and fifth of a chord are played together, that chord is said to be harmonious and appealing to (universally) every ear and at every time.  But postmodern critique has shown that even this sense of harmony is the product of formation towards desiring completeness, and  that even the feeling of "completeness" is shaped by contextual understanding.  What of those who find harmony in a quarter tone?  What of those who experience harmony not in a single chord, but in a complete movement?  What of the fact that "resolution" of a suspended chord is needed to bring rest?  

We need to listen to one another and be open to hearing as the other hears.  As this analogy relates to New Testament Theology and unity and diversity, I am primarily concerned with an openness to listening to stories of interpretation.  Where John's understanding of light and darkness is harmonious with my understanding of God's kingdom verses a kingdom of the world, another might interpret these as utterly dissonant and irreconcilable.  How have I too quickly forced harmony on John's understanding?  Where can I offer a harmonious interpretation?

This was a very enjoyable discussion, particularly because I enjoyed my past education in music theory, which has remained largely in the backseat during theological studies.  It is often said that music is  the language that reaches and touches the world - regardless of cultural context.  I contend that music has to be created in the cultural context, and that we need to be open to hearing and learning what harmony and dissonance mean within those contexts, as it shapes us more fully to understand the symphony of the composer.

Baby Girl!

 

 

It's a girl!  Jamie and I rejoice in the news that our baby is growing strong and healthy, and that everything seems to be as it should be at this point.  We went in for the ultrasound yesterday and skipped-and-hopped out of the hospital with the joyous news of a baby girl.

We were asked many times before this day what we "wanted."  After removing the word "want" from it's Western-consumer context, I responded that I will be overjoyed with any healthy baby, but that I am brought to tears thinking of daddy's little girl.

That to say, the past two days have been filled with immense joy.  We continue to request your prayers for this little girl, who we anxiously wait to welcome into the world where Jesus Christ is Lord!  

 

 

Postmodern Lunatics

I just had the following conversation with one of the teachers in the elementary school: 

Teacher: “So what classes are you taking right now?” 

Andy: “New Testament Theology, Church in Post-Modern Context, and…” 

Teacher: [interrupts] “I don’t like it.” 

Andy: “Don’t like what?” 

Teacher: “Post-modern.  I know some of them, and they are crazy!” 

Andy: “What do you mean?” 

Teacher: “You know, like, Rob Bell?  And there are others who want to, like, blow up the church building and stuff.” 

Unfortunately, this teacher had to take her students back to the classroom, so we were unable to continue the conversation.  This person goes to a mega-church in the area and has heard prophetic warnings proclaimed from the pulpit about the lunatic post-moderns who seek to devour and destroy the church.  I look forward to engaging in further conversation with this teacher, and I hope to be able to share some of the philosophies inherent in post-modern thought that work towards re-invigorating the church to be the beautiful bride of Christ. 

Art and Music in the Public School System

There is great potential that art and music will be removed from our children's schooling in the upcoming years.  These are viewed as "extra" to the more important and foundational education elements of mathematics, science, history, and geography.  Working in an elementary school, I hear the uproar from teachers everyday about these decisions.  These "specials" (as they are called in our district) are not just the tasty toppings on the top of the cake, but the very ingredients that make the food worth eating.

I had the opportunity today to sit with an art teacher who is working intently at the local and state levels to ward off this atrocity.  He told me of his own story and described how he would have certainly dropped out of high school had it not been for the arts.  While I never had the urge to drop out of school, music is what kept me passionate.

From a teachers perspective, the 2001 No Child Left Behind Act shackles the educational process, reducing it to measurable standards as formed by white, middle-class, scientific-driven politicians.  We need art and music in our schools, and cannot place these as "extra-curricular."  What are we left with when we lose the ability to tell stories?  How can we describe a confusing and seemingly chaotic world, if not with symbol and expression?

Suburban Gym Experience

 The gym is a very interesting place.  People are there for primarily the same purpose: to get into shape and maintain a healthy lifestyle (although for a number of different motives).  Usually when people are gathered into the same space for the same purpose we are drawn into conversation with one another.  “You mean you are here because you love SPAM…ME TOO!”  We feel kinship with people working towards the same purpose.  We are motivated and challenged.  We enjoy talking with people with similar values and passion.  Yet my experience at suburban gyms is that, even though we are working towards the same goal, communication is off limits.  “This is my time.” 

This surprises me, because I have always appreciated encouragement and challenge while working out, not to mention appreciating a distraction from any pain I might feel.  I realize some people do the best when they are able to get into “the zone,” where “nothing else matters,” but this has rarely been my experience.  When I am exhausted and wanting to quit, but haven’t yet met my goals, I crave a friendly voice to say “how far you running?” or “good job” or “pick it up!”   

I have just finished the first week of training for a half marathon to take place in May, and yesterday was my first five mile run. At about 3.5 miles, I was completely exhausted and frustrated.  I couldn’t believe that, though every treadmill around me was full, no one was talking to one another.  We all kept running, watching TV and listening to music, hoping that we would have enough self-motivation and endurance to finish.  All I could think about was how I wanted to write a blog about my frustration with the way no one communicated.   

And then a young man stepped onto the treadmill next to me, looked over at me, and said “Hey, how’s it going?”  We engaged in conversation for the rest of the run.  It was easy from there to the end. 

The point is that, not only does meeting people and conversing at the gym offer encouragement and challenge and distraction, but we are meeting people as witnesses to Christ.  Everywhere we go and everything we do proclaims the story we believe in.  We witness to the fact that we need one another and love one another.  We witness to being part of a story where the characters do not quietly or passively float by, but actively engage every in every part.  We witness to God’s presence in all of life, even when they seem as trivial as a suburban gym. 

There are very few places where I regularly engage myself with strangers and people who do not already know the reconciliation of Christ.  I pray that the gym become a place where I can step out, like the man next to me did, and be open to God’s presence, even when that place is a suburban gym.  

Eugene Peterson - The Entirety of the Bible

Eugene Peterson writes that, "It takes the whole Bible to read any part of the Bible."  What a profound statement that has been sorely forgotten throughout the history of the church.  We are taught to read law as law, poetry as poetry, history as history, parable as parable, narrative as narrative.  But reading the genre appropriately as a literary genre must fall under the entirety of the Bible - the unfolding and redemptive story of God. 

It is easy to read Leviticus and say that it is a book primarily of law; but we must remember that law was given to keep chosen-Israel as a beacon to the nations to the One God Yahweh.  Poetry is not just beautiful and artistic ways of telling a story, but it is an expression of emotion making "sense" of the trials and joys of life.  Reading the historical-narrative of the the passion of Christ before the cross is not just something to be believed in as a truth, but is read in relationship of a people yearning for a messiah to come and restore Jerusalem, to be rescued from exile, to finally do what Yahweh had promised to do. 

The same is true for us today.  Our lives are part of this grand story.  We are not rewriting Scripture or adding to it, but we live under it and in it.  We can interpret the world and our lives because we have been formed as people of the story; as a people who proclaim,

"Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.
Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul,
with all your mind, and with all your strength. (Deuteronomy 6:4-5)
Love your neighbor as yourself. (Leviticus 19:18)

Quitting as an Honorable Option

An article on CNN was released this morning titled, “Fear prompts bobsledders to quit Olympics.”  The article describes how Edwin van Calker of the Netherlands was unable to follow through and compete, causing the 4 man team to pull out from the Olympic event.  He told reporters that, “I have to look after my boys and can’t close my eyes to that…for me, it’s not about performing.  It’s about surviving.”  

I was impressed by Calker’s willingness to choose family over a potential sporting event honor.  The numerous injuries and even death that have resulted from these Olympic events have to raise the question “Is it really worth it?”  One of Calker’s teammates said that, “this was my last chance to do something special.”  Really?  How has “special” come to be defined so narrowly as requiring international spotlight?  Are there really only a few special things done in this world, and only every four years?

There are a number of books rotating in Christian circles about “God’s man” being “manly men.”  These books claim that men need to become manlier because that is what God has created them to be.  They are not to live by fear, but by courage.  Edwin made a decision from fear – not very much a God-type of man huh?

Incredible.  The link to the article says, “Fear turns Olympians into quitters.”  We all know quitters.  They are the ones who quit – who can’t live up to what was expected, who can’t handle the pain, who give in to early.  Quitting is weakness.  At least this is how we are brought up to think.  At what point does quitting become not only acceptable, but more honorable?  

I think Edwin van Calker has demonstrated one of these honorable moments, and he has certainly done something special at this Olympics.  

Reconciliation

Developing a theological understanding of reconciliation has been of great importance to me lately.  The community we live in demands learning how to share our differences, while at the same time learning how to trust one another.  Reconciliation is not just a patch to put over holes in the ship in order to keep it from sinking, but is rather the wood, the nails, and the glue that make up the composition itself.  I ran across the following quote from Yoder this morning: 

To be human is to have differences; to be human wholesomely is to process those differences, not by building up conflicting power claims but by reconciling dialogue.  Conflict is socially useful; it forces us to attend to new data from new perspectives.  It is useful in interpersonal process; by processing conflict, one learns skills, awareness, trust, and hope.  Conflict is useful in intrapersonal dynamics, protecting our concern about guilt and acceptance from being directed inwardly only to our own feelings.  The therapy for guilt is forgiveness; the source of self-esteem is another person who takes seriously my restoration to community.¹ 

The reality is that instructive and beneficial conflict is hard to come by.  It is meant to be a theological gem, but is too often a crushing boulder in reality.  The church too often leads the pack in harboring bitterness and unresolved conflict.  May we be formed at the table and the cross into a people who display radical reconciliation with one another and the world, including our enemies.  “The people of God is called to be what the world is called to be ultimately.”²

__________
¹ John Howard Yoder, Body Politics (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1992), 8.
² Ibid., ix.

Lose the Leg and Get Through the Needle!

A friend of mine recently posted a review of Doublas LeBlanc’s Tithing: Test Me in This (review here).  He identifies the greatest weaknesses and strengths of the book and recommends it for reading, but only if you are wired to learn from stories.  The review offers praise for approaching the issue from narrative and story rather than proof-texting the topic by extrapolating power-packed-punch-one-liners from the Bible in order to make a point.  However, the reviewer also points out a dissatisfaction with using “abundant blessing in return” as a method to understand the importance of tithing. 

I have not read the book, but I have been interested in the discipline of tithing.  I also applaud and agree with both of these critiques.  The first is primarily concerned with fulfilling a moral imperative in order to appease a judge, the second is selfishly concerned with “giving in order to get.”  Both of these fail to understand tithing as a submission of our whole beings to God’s redemptive plan (sound like this post here?). 

Where do we go wrong?  Preachers will often say that tithing is “giving 10% of your possessions to help the ministries of the church, the mission of God’s people, or those who are less fortunate than you.”  Right from the start we are set in motion to “hear but not understand” (Matthew 13).  Our understanding of ownership, property and possession has been formed by a consumer based economy and culture where the individual has rights, and those rights reign supreme.   

“I work hard at my job, and the money I earn is rightfully mine.”
“I earn…”
“It’s mine…”
“I deserve it…”   

The most hated parable in the gospels for American society is located in Matthew 20 ((Ok, we love the 20:16: “so the last will be first, and the first will be last,” as long as it doesn’t mean that I have to be last (or first – confusing)).  People starting work at different times and getting paid the same wage?!  Gentiles being invited into the same redemption this late in the game, when nation-Israel was God’s covenant people from the time of Abraham (Romans 11:17)?!  A tax collector considered more righteous than a Pharisee (Luke 18:9-14)?!  The gospel message was upside down in 1^st century Palestine; how much more even today!   

Our possessions control our lives.  Jesus talks about it being easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to submit all these things to the Lord and enter the kingdom (Matthew 19).  So then we call upon verses like 1 Corinthians 16:2 as the formula for giving the right amount, thinking that if we merely chop a leg off the camel it will then fit through the needle!  Matthew 19 is not about holding on to the majority and giving a little; it is a call to leave behind all things that we rely upon and cherish that are not submitted to the Lord.   

1. We are not called to give because it is law
2. We are not called to give because it helps the ministries of the church
3. We are not called to give because we will receive something in return
4. We are not called to do because it (BEWARE and “uh-oh”) helps our neighbor

 

We are called to submit all that we are and all that we “have” to the Lordship of Christ, for all that we are and all that we have is summed up in dying and rising to new life.  I assume that the fourth “we are not called” above will sound controversial, for if there is one thing liberal-Christianity has taught us, it is that we are to care for the weak, the oppressed, and the poor.  The fear with #4 is that it too quickly becomes #1.  Issues of social-justice and ethic become the work of individuals who also are Christian (this post would lead to a number of posts such as “is any justice, Christian justice?” to which I affirm that a Christian’s understanding of justice is distinct from a politically liberal one). 

The invitation into the kingdom and reign of God in the here-and-now is about dying to our former selves.  It is about giving up our self-idolatry and selfish-pursuits.  It is about reframing our minds from ownership to stewardship.  It is not only about restraining our desires for the ownership of things, but actually reshaping the desire itself.   

Tithing will continue to be a hot-button issue that the church struggles with.  I admit that consumeristic/ownership understandings have been so formed in my mind that it is difficult to understand anything else.  But I know that I am in agreement with the reviewer, that tithing cannot be about fulfilling a few moral obligations, nor can it be about gaining something even greater in return.  It is about reshaping our ways of interpreting the world to see that everything falls under the Lordship of Christ.

Heartbeats and Cartwheels

Jamie had another prenatal doctor’s appointment this morning where we were able to hear the heartbeat of the baby for the second time.  It is an incredible thing to hear.  My life can pass by so quickly, and sadly, there are days that I don’t fixate on the reality of welcoming a child into this world.  But mornings like these I am smacked in the face with the reality that God continues to create beautiful new life.   

This shouldn’t have been a surprise to me, but the doctor talked about the activity of the baby.  The heartbeat had lowered about 10 BPM from the previous appointment to this one, and the doctor said that it might be because he/she is napping or relaxed.  She talked about babies doing cartwheels and being physically active at other times (as much as you can, being confined to that space).  Amazing!  Whether I had consciously formed this belief or not, I had the impression that the baby just kinda laid there, not sleeping or moving, just laying passively.  It may be silly, but when I think of cartwheels I think of laughter and joy, free from the burdens and stress that so often accompany life in this world.  I think of wide open fields filled with potential to experience life.  I think of sunshine and friends.  I think of the music video to “No Rain,” by Blind Melon (see video below).   

I’m sure that “cartwheel” was a metaphor the doctor used to describe general movement and activity by the baby, but I am thankful for the imagery.  I am thankful that, despite such wide-held pessimism about the state of affairs in the world, it really is a good – created by God – place to be invited into.  Our joy is in the Lord and the promise that all things are being made new.  Our outlook is not failure, sadness, or certain destruction, but springs forth in passionate joy and hope from the knowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord!  I pray that our baby does a few more cartwheels today, experiencing already at this time the love of its parents and community who welcome it with open arms to a good wonderful life under the Lordship of Christ.  Amazing, and Amen. 

Hauerwas - Should the Military Exclude Christians from Service?

Seminary quarters pass by at the speed of light, leaving behind lasting symbols and influential authors who helped to shape the symbols.  Fall of 2007 impacted my understanding of evangelism, being heralded by Henri Nouwen and his book The Prodigal Son.  Winter of 2008 was all about understanding worship as the unfolding of God's story through the multiple writings of Dr. Robert Webber.  Fall of 2009 was a time of putting to question ideologies of Scripture, church and society and salvation, with the help of N.T. Wright as a guide in the navigation.  Although we are only five weeks into the quarter, two names have already stood out as taking this place of lasting influence in my education: Stanley Hauerwas and John Howard Yoder. 

Last week I received a copy of Hauerwas' The Hauerwas Reader in the mail, and opened immediately to the Table of Contents.  My eye was quickly drawn to a controversial chapter entitled, "Why Gays (as a Group) Are Morally Superior to Christians (as a Group)."  The piece was an editorial in a newspaper, and therefore was only two pages long.  I have read it a number of times since and have been challenged to acknowledge and confess the passivity of my willingness to submit to the Lordship of Christ over the years, but also to realize that Christian doctrines are not just beliefs but are part of the very story that form our practices.  

Hauerwas states up front that he views it as a "wonderful thing that some people are excluded [from military service] as a group," and that he could "only wish that Christians could be seen by the military to be as problematic as gays."¹  He points out that the restriction on this group of people is due to many factors, one of which is, that by condemning such a group we can then allow ourselves to hide from the confusion of sex in our wider culture.  We create an "illusion of certainty" of what is morally right and what is morally wrong.The article is not as much focused on homosexuals serving in military as it is about the way in which Christians, if they were to be consistent in practicing those things which they claim to believe, would be an additional group excluded from participation in military service.  The reasons for this are:

1. Pilots would worry about dropping bombs on locations where civilian casualties would occur
2. Soldiers would insist that war is not about killing but only incapacitating or detaining prisoners (per just war theory)
3. Soldiers would gather each night, holding hands with heads bowed in prayer.
4. Soldiers would pray for their enemies
5. Soldiers would gather for a meal where they claim to eat and drink with God.
6. Soldiers could not gather for the meal if they have blood on their hands - "People so concerned with sanctity would be a threat to the military."²
7. They would be no fun as they are compelled to keep promises, fidelity, disprove of sexual license even when facing the danger of battle
8. Their loyalty is first to God and then to the military commanders

The brief article is both humorous and prophetic.  What would happen if we really enacted these things not only the military, but in our jobs and everyday life?  Refusing to gossip in work.  Being unwilling to lie or manipulate to advance in our jobs.  Setting limits for hours worked each week to spend time with family.  Refusing to buy into consumeristic tendencies to acquire the latest and the greatest.  I think that it would show that not only do Christians not make very good soldiers, but we do not make very good Western capitalists.

Could you really trust people in your unit who think the enemy's life is as valid as their own or their fellow soldier?  Could you trust someone who would think it more important to die than to kill unjustly?  Are these people fit for the military?³

__________
¹ Stanley Hauerwas, The Hauerwas Reader (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2001), 519.
² Ibid., 521.
³ Ibid., 521.

Prayer as Submission to the Lordship of Christ

I currently work at Century Oaks Elementary School in District U-46 as a Level 1 Computer tech.  The job gives Jamie and I a little extra cash and still allows for the work to be done by noon each day.  The district is suffering greatly though.  They are deeply sunk into the swallows of debt and are consumed now by debt reduction meetings and strategies.  Each morning when I enter the school, I hear teachers express fear about losing their jobs.  They fear losing the established intervention programs, athletics, and arts which supplement traditional math, science, and history to provide a worthwhile education.  They fear the unknown of their futures.  Everyone is tense, and sadly, the students and their parents are affected as well.   

The most recent weekly message from the superintendent included a list of practices to be utilized in order to cope with the stresses of the budget issues.  After listing exercise, relaxation, watching TV, and visiting classrooms, he said that, “I pray.  I meditate. In other words, I alter my perspective.”  This post is not about the separation of church and state and it is not a critique of Dr. Torres understanding of prayer or meditation (nor am I addressing television as a coping mechanism).  This post is about the way in which prayer, for believers in Jesus Christ, is not about altering our perspective of situations, but submitting them to the Lordship of Christ.   

The good news for a prayerful church is that they, as a community, are defined by a different kingdom than that of the world.  This kingdom is marked not by efficiency or power like that of the world, but by growth and submission to God’s mission in the world.  Programs are not required to grow, but rather disciples made.  In this way, the exact moves of our future are not known or seen but are approached with faith, hope, and trust.  This trust is not in ourselves or our reason, but in the unfailing mission of God.  Prayer is therefore not, “Help me to see the right answer,” but, “we submit all our concerns to your will, for your glory.”   

Prayer is the place where we place our whole lives - not just questions to specific situations - before the One whom we proclaim to be Lord of the cosmos.  This type of prayer calls for crazy answers.  It calls us to step out in faith to do things that are not even in our perspective, but to trust that God’s promises are irrevocable.   

Jamie and I are in the middle of this type of prayer.  We are discerning whether or not to dive into a missional plant in Westmont, Illinois, where pastoral ministry would be bi-vocational.  Our plan had previously been to graduate seminary and transition into professional-pastoral ministry.  There are many reasons for this, and I’m sure a number of blog posts over the coming months will address some of the reasons, but Jamie and I are feeling called to at least submit this future in prayer and community to the Lord.  The one thing we know is that we cannot make our decisions out of fear: fear of not finding a job, or fear of what people think, or fear of failure.  Rather, we submit our decision making and discernment to prayer and to community, trusting that God’s mission will not fail.  

We would appreciate any prayers from you all as well in this time.  Praying is the easy part; responding to God’s call requires submitting to the work of the Holy Spirit.