The Big 3

It's a rockin' Saturday night.

I'm sitting alone on a Saturday night, at an undisclosed location with free Wifi.  My oldest, known as G-man here on the Big 3, is at a dance with a member of the opposite sex.  THAT deserves its own post for sure, but there's something else on my mind this evening.

We've been knocking around the idea of mission statements in staff meetings here lately.  It's a subject with a long checkered history at Shadow Rock, which I won't go into here, but I've been thinking a lot about the big questions.  Not that that's too unusual for me, but anyway...

When I was younger and much more energetic, I worked for a local United Way organization.  I was really a true believer in the UW movement (and I still am...  without the starry-eyed idealism, but still giving).  Most United Ways have adopted some version of the national organization's mission statement:  to increase the organized capacity of people to care for one another.  There's a lot to like in that mission statement.  It does what it should.

The 'capacity building' part and the caring part must go together.  We aren't building community just so people get warm fuzzies - the purpose of the capacity building is to get people the help they need.  And so it is with spiritual growth and education - We don't strive to grow spiritually just so we can feel good, become self-actualized, and sing Kumbaya.  Spiritual maturity empowers work for others.

It's an old drum, and sometimes I feel like I'm the only one beating it, but I'm at least getting better about articulating what this rhythm is all about.  My mission as a Christian educator is to increase the spiritual capacity of myself and others that we together might better serve the world.

Care to join me?

Desiderata

When I was a teenager, I had an 'artsy' poster with this poem:

"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."  ~ Max Ehrmann, "Desiderata"

Many years later, I heard a minister use a portion of it as a benediction... "No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."

Is it? 

This week, it's seemed that ecological disaster, personal failure, and distinct lack of humanity have been everywhere.  Reading or watching the news has me running for the antacid.  I think of the world my children will live in and I'm scared.  I like to plan my blog posts so that they come around to a nice point, something to think about.  Maybe I'm out of practice, but I can't wrap this one up nicely.

Someone help me restore my faith in people.

Is a poppy just a poppy?

Patriotic holidays are tough for me.

Memorial Day may be the worst.  On Saturday, I went to Wal-Mart (I know... that's part of the problem right there).  There were some VFW veterans at the door with the little paper poppies.  I said 'no, thanks' and felt like a complete heel.  My beloved Gramps is a veteran as was my father's father, along with many men and women that I love and respect.

But here's the rub.  The sacrifices made by veterans were made possible by their willingness to be used by our nation in war.  Being a part of war entails participation in a life of violence.  This is where I am, right now - I can't separate honoring veterans from condoning war.  I can't justify wishing for peace while preparing for war.  Every member of the armed forces - and the Quakers would remind me, every tax-paying American - is complicit in this life of violence.

We had a discussion recently among some church folks planning a new summer program for 2012.  One potential program focused on peacemaking.  At the bottom of the brochure, there was this quote, 'I will not teach my child to kill your child.'  In discussing this program, one committee member voiced a potential conflict:  her son has just joined the Marine Corps.  She didn't feel as if she could whole-heartedly support a program centered on nonviolent peacemaking.  "Oh no!" others enthused, "Marines are peacekeepers.  There's no problem!"

NO.

While I don't wish this Marine's mom any ill will at all (in fact, I admire her forthright honesty), I disagree with the way her conflicting emotions about this program were swept under the rug.  There's a difference in peacekeeping and peacemaking, at least in the way these words are used currently.  Peacekeeping involves a threat of violence... much the same way a parent might enforce quiet in the backseat with the promise of a spanking.  Peacemaking is harder by far, but it is the role we are called to fill.

Much of this post will sound familiar to those who know me or those who read The Big 3 with any regularity.  See 'Wanted: a Peace Church.'  Here's what I have to add that's a new insight for me.  I've always been perplexed by my anti-war commitment.  If you've ever considered pacifism as a moral position, you know the conflict to which I'm referring.  It's the old 'so what would you do about Hitler?' question.  Is pacifism a viable or practical solution to the complexity of conflicts between nations?  Well, I don't know.  Is this cowardice?  Maybe.  But it's my calling - to be the voice of the alternative, to show that a thoughtful person can make a commitment to nonviolence, to model peacemaking rather than the wider, easier road of peacekeeping.  I don't have all the answers, but this is where I stand.

But what about that little poppy? 

Join me for a cuppa.

The chorus lyrics to an old youth choir song:

Fill my cup, Lord.  I lift it up, Lord.
Come and quench this thirsting of my soul.
Bread of heaven, feed me 'til I want no more.
Fill my cup; fill it up and make me whole.

I just started a new book this morning, The Cup of Our Life: a Guide for Spiritual Growth by Joyce Rupp.  The author describes a cup as a metaphor for life.  It's as if we're born thirsty and holding a cup.  With what will you choose to fill it?  It's a rich metaphor... 

'My cup overflows with blessings.'  Psalm 23

'This cup is the new covenant.' Luke 22

There's a verse I remember from childhood about offering a cup of cold water in Jesus' name, but I can't find it this afternoon.  [a disadvantage to working for a church... my 'good' Bibles are at the office haha]

Anyway, I'm thinking this afternoon about the various things I put in my cup and what leaks right out.  Self-righteousness, status, material possessions... these things give a temporary feeling of fullness but it never lasts.  Even good things like work and family can be idols, destined to leak out of our cups slowly and leave us empty.  I've had this conversation with various people this week - how we can make an idol of our partners and expect him or her to fulfill our emotional and spiritual needs.  Even the care and love of our children isn't enough to fulfill us.  After all, children grow up and cease to need our daily attention.

So what is adequate?  Is it just a fact of this life that we are restless and unfulfilled?

At the end of worship at Shadow Rock, we close with Words of Mission, "May we love all and serve all."  This just might do it - knowing our place in the Universe.  Not gods, not just space dust... but blessed children put on the earth to learn to love actively.

So what's in my cup today?  It's coffee of course.  The cup of friendship and hospitality, with caffeine for energy to do good in the world.

Re-invention

I have a story to tell this afternoon.  You probably have heard it before with different characters. 

In eighth grade social studies (North Carolina history with Ms. Andrews, to be precise), I sat across from a guy named Victor.  Victor could have been an extra in Revenge of the Nerds - thick square glasses, oxford shirts, hair parted straight and on the side.  I wasn't exactly setting the world ablaze with 13 year old hotness, so we struck up a friendly acquaintance.  Nothing earth-shattering, nothing deep - just two slightly geeky adolescents chatting in the minutes before Ms. Andrews entered the classroom, fresh from a smoke break.

In the fall of 1984, I entered high school.  So did Victor.  I saw him on the first day of school.  Oh.My.God.  He had spent the summer going all kinds of Depeche Mode.  Different clothes, spiky hair with plenty of Sun-In, contacts, eyeliner.  No longer Victor, he was now just Vic.  I wonder now... how much time did he spend over the summer deciding what and how to change?  What inspired him?  Who supported him in the decision?  What did he hope to achieve with a change in appearance?  And now, 23 years later, how does he remember that change and is there anything he regrets?

Well I'm sad to say that I haven't seen Vic since high school so I can't answer any of those questions.  But I still wonder.  And I wonder even more about other kinds of reinvention.  Aren't we desperately in need of reinvention?  The church in general and my own church in particular needto grow.  We need adults who are not afraid of change, not afraid of doubts and questions.  We need education for everyone that focuses on growth and formation rather than orthodoxy and rightness.  We need people who are so inspired by Good News that they are passionate about a better world for everyone.  We need courage.

So I wonder about Vic.  I wonder about the courage that it took for him to leave behind his nerdy-ness (which must have been in some ways comfortable) and try something bold and new. 

Thanks, Victor, old friend.  Grace to you, wherever you are.

Existentialism in New Mexico

Are you a closet existentialist?  Well, I don't know about you, but I've been accused of worse.

We're in New Mexico this weekend on church business (I've got church business; DH and the kids have been sight-seeing).  So while the kids watch Bugs Bunny and DH snores, I'll share some thoughts with you.

New Mexico is a state that seems comfortable with existentialism.  It's the only state in the US with an official state question.  It's an existential question, because you have to answer it for yourself:  "Red or green?"  It's referring to food... red or green chili sauce of course.  Any day when I can semi-legitimately tie Mexican food to philosophy is terrific.

Another thing about New Mexico - it's WINDY.  Along stretches of Insterstate 40 we traveled on Thursday, you'll see a peculiar road hazard sign:  Gusty Winds May Exist.  I always smile when I see that sign.  It's an existential sign because it opens the question.  At the top of the sign, there's an orange wind sock, so you can judge for yourself if gusty winds do, in fact, exist.

Existentialism is an approach (to philosophy, to theology, to wind) that gives authority and priority to human experience.  It begins with what is real, with people in real situations, in the totality of existence.  Existential questions rise out of real life:  Where did I come from?  Where am I going?  Why am I here?  I am a Christian existentialist because I ask the big questions.  My faith - rather than being an escape from reality or a ticket punch for the next so-much-better life - is a response to what is real.  This faith sometimes gives me answers that ring true... and other times my faith gives me courage to live with unanswered questions.  When I get answers they are tested, not only against authority and tradition, but against what is true for me.

Who doesn't ask these big questions?  See?  You're an existentialist too.

The good news is, I felt really young...

Last night, I was privileged to listen to author and social scientist Sister Joan Chittister speak.  She was terrific:  warm, witty, and no-nonsense just like a nun should be.  in the interest of full disclosure, I should admit that I had a childhood fantasy about becoming a nun.  I think it was just the result of watching the Sound of Music.

The essence of her speech was the new opportunities to relate to God offered by evolution.  The theology of merit is dead.  Our hearts tells us that God must be more than a remote and stern Scorekeeper.  The merit accomplishments are different for different denominations, but the idea is the same:  did you pray the right prayer?  use the right language?  attend the right church?  vote the right way?  can you check a box labelled 'good Catholic' or a box 'born again'?  The new dimension of God afforded by evolution is participative.  We - indeed all of Creation - participate along with God in the ongoing act of creation.  The goal therefore is growth rather than perfection. 

This is all good stuff and it was terrific to have the sanctuary so full - maybe 400 people.  But during Sister Joan's two standing ovations, I took the opportunity to look around.  There were about a dozen people under the age of 50.

*sigh*

Where are the young Christian progressives?  Communities of faith need your voice.

Is anyone out there?

Easter Schizophrenia

First, a disclaimer:  In this post, I'm using the term schizophrenia in a way that is technically incorrect.  In my thinking for this particular subject, I'm using schizophrenia to mean 'cognitive dissonance or emotional conflict to the point that one feels as if one is experiencing a mental disorder characterized by multiple and conflicting personalities.'  This is a gray area in terms of offensive language, and I'm sensitive to the way our culture demonizes and marginalizes persons experiencing mental illness.  If anyone is offended by my use of this word in this way, I sincerely apologize and I hope you'll let me know about your experience (and educate me in the process).

It's a weird time of year to be a progressive Christian.  Religion is in the air.  Saturday night, the kids were heading to bed.  I remarked to DH, "Gee I bet we could find an annoyingly literalist report on Jesus on the History Channel to watch tonight..."  I think we opted for Law & Order reruns instead.

So what is the source of this weirdness, that seems to reach a fever pitch during Holy Week - to the extent that I feel a little schizophrenic?

1) A general lack of awareness among secular folks that there's more than one way to be a person of faith.  I have many interesting and fun discussions with my non-churchy friend A about this kind of thing.  We were lunching a couple of weeks ago and she asked me what I had given up for Lent.  Now I appreciate the observation of Lent, as a period of reflection and individual & corporate confession, but I don't necessarily incorporate a Lenten discipline.  If you do and it feeds your soul, please continue.  But I could see the wheels turning in the head of my friend.  It seemed that she was thinking something along these lines, "You read theology, you attend church, you work at a church for God's sake (so to speak)... of course you give up something for Lent."    I hope that our friendship allows her to glimpse a third path - not secular, not rule-following, exclusivist religion, but something else.  We'll see. 

2.  An internal debate (and communal, in some progressive faith communities) about the meaning of the Resurrection.  This is the heart of the matter, at least for me.  I don't think it's possible to overemphasize the wondrous treasure of Resurrection as metaphor - and the beauty of this metaphor at work in the world, a gift from Christian faith.  Resurrection means that God / Final Reality / Mysterious Love has the last word.  No matter how bleak and hopeless any situation or individual life appears, the future is open.  Resurrection-as-metaphor has real power.  But what actually happened?  For many progressive folks, just asking the question goes down the wrong path.  But maybe these good folks aren't called upon to answer the questions of children.  At our Palm Sunday weekend children's education sleepover, we told the story of Jesus' last week.  Here was the comment about Easter morning, "So Jesus is like a zombie, but without the brain-eating."  Hilarious, and of course, laughter and mayhem are always prime goals for 10 year old boys, but a real question remains.  I don't believe that the lifeless corpse of Jesus was resuscitated, but I believe that SOMETHING happened.  That SOMETHING turned a somewhat bumbling and inept group of disciples into the greatest evangelical force the world has ever seen.  I am content with the mystery, but it does contribute to my feeling of schizophrenia when we announce 'He is risen, indeed.'

3.  A recognition that nontheist faith is gratifying intellectually but feels cold.  What I would call classical nontheism (think I just invented that - LOL), is a God that is nonpersonal, without intention, and unconscious.  This is Bultmann's 'Mysterious Reality.'  I have described myself as a nontheist before (althoughI tend to pray like a theist, but that's a subject for another post).  Can I reach for and begin to describe a nontheist faith that still has room for intention, compassion, and direction?  If nontheism tells us that God is not a Being even a Supreme Being, but is instead Being Itself (Tillich's Ground of Being), then can Being Itself - the Universe - have a direction that bends however long toward peace and unity?  If scientist and sociologists are pondering humanity's bent toward compassion (check out this fun and hopeful video on Empathic Civilization http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7AWnfFRc7g), can theologians even and especially amateur ones ponder an Empathic Universe?

Peace to you.

Wounded Healers

Good morning, gentle readers.  This morning has answered two crucial questions:  1) did the good folks at Typepad auto-renew my blog service even though the site has been inactive for oh-so long?  Yes they did. 2) am I capable to letting Profound Journey Dialog things lie fallow on my desk and take the morning off?  Yes I am.  Hence the latte in my hand and my fingers on the keyboard.

I wanted to share just a bit about my struggle at the new job.  This is a little embarrassing, but I've been surprised by the amount of pastoral-type care and concern that I've been called upon to deliver.  Embarrassing, I say, because my employer is a church after all.  Yet I think I had this illusion that I would be able to come in for my 15 hours, whip several educational programs into shape and remain untouched emotionally.  I haven't been able to whip much of anything into shape and I've been bombarded with caretaking.

Confession time:  I'm not all that good at caretaking.  If there are any FHUMC Stephen Ministers reading, this isnot news to you.  The language of specifically Christian caretaking has never come easy to me.  Do you know the kind of phrases and conversations to which I'm referring?  WHY is it that I can type 'to which' and it seems natural, but the personal prayers-and-blessings talk is so difficult?

"You've been in my prayers."

"Thank you for sharing the story of your grief."

"I'm here if you need someone."

I had the thought this weekend that maybe I haven't had enough heartache.  I'm simply extraordinarily lucky or blessed or whatever, which is certainly true.  Maybe.  But this weekend I did happily observe myself rising to the occasion.  Perhaps caregiving and the phraseology that accompanies it is like abdominal muscles.  You just have to exercise them.  During our weekend retreat called Profound Journey Dialog I did okay.  There were 3 different women there who shared their emotional and spiritual pain in different ways.  I'm guarding confidentiality here, so I can't express the most poignant details, but one woman had such an obvious 'tell' that she was in pain, it was difficult to speak with her without doing something. 

The good news is... the 'something' I most wanted to do was to comfort her, not to escape from her pain.  Thanks be to God.

Behavior Modification, circa 1990

Hi.  Remember me?

Let me tell you an embarrassing story.  Around 1990, I was in college grappling with a potential triple major - political science, French, and psychology.  Of the three, psychology was something of a stepchild, but at that time, I could still be found on the third floor of Kuhn Science Hall chatting about behaviorism versus cognitive approaches.  One of my favorite profs, Dr. Baker, taught a course on the basics of behaior modification.  In the class, students were required to design and conduct an experiment on themselves using behavior modification.  My project was a complete failure.  To complete the project in a semester, I had to submit the design in the first two weeks of the term.  Not knowing enough about the subject, my design was faulty.  I proceeded to pretend that all was well, indulging in complete procrastination about the entire enterprise.  In the end, I did become a bit more self-aware as a result of the experiment, but my data was fudged (there goes my run for Congress...) and my end project did not reflect my best academic work, to say the least.

But I learned something (which I shared with Dr. Baker in my final project report to pad it a bit and distract from the bad data).  Procrastination is a powerful thing.  When you are seriously avoiding working on something, even thinking about it becomes painful.  It gets harder and harder as time goes on to stop procrastinating and face the mess you've made.

Sigh.

The blog got to be like that.  So today I am blowing the electronic dust from The Big 3 and facing the music, mixing my metaphors and getting to work.  Expect some posts soon.  I'm composing in my head about magical thinking, profound journey dialog, and mindful parenting.  Thanks to Jim Martin for the encouragement to get back to it.