In this presidential election year, I am reminded to check my assumptions.
The population of the United States is approximately 313 million people. If I take in any report about the campaign, little time elapses between each utterance of the title "American People."
The American People expect, The American People demand, The American People deserve, The American People want. I am calling for a diet for "American People." Occasionally a generalization illuminates a point. I try to use them sparingly, because I hope that I respect the uniqueness of individuals. We are all made in the image of God, yet with many idiosyncrasies.
American People is not a precise title. Maybe we should assume that politicians and pundits mean the United States, but Canada is in North America. Mitt Romney is probably not speaking to the people of Montevideo (Uruguay, not Minnesota). Barack Obama is not likely looking for commentary from Ascuncion.
To go along with my cover bands Lenten Journey and The True Meaning of Christmas, my next band will be called The American People, each band a living satire, reminding me to check my assumptions when I speak, write or tweet.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Music as pastoral care and building the community of faith
The battle over worship in this congregation started in 1967 when _________________ played a guitar in worship. The war has gone on ever since.
That was a statement of an elder member of a congregation I served as an interim when I asked about the stories related to conflict over worship. One might call it the Thirty Years' War. The "Worship Wars" don't have the acrimony they once did even five years ago. I never understood the approach of the Worship Wars in "Mainline" Protestantism. Arguing over preferences produces no clarity, no mission, no deeper connection with the Divine.
I am not a worship scholar. I wouldn't even call myself gifted in worship methodology or theology. But I ponder the effects of music on my soul and my longing for God, desiring healing and wholeness, and where I see Christ. I have to provide the musical connection with God for myself, because the church for 30 years has been more interested in arguing about style preferences than offering to build my relationship with God and others in their spiritual growth. Recently I've been thinking less about my musical preferences and HOW I am connected to God and others by a particular song.
1. The role of testimony. Preachers and other deliverers of the Gospel can appropriately share their personal stories about the activity of God in their lives. I find meaning in that connection--why can't it be done with music? Case in point--a pastoral care song for me is from Melody Gardot's Who Will Comfort Me. The song is good in and of itself, but it means even more in light of Melody's own path of healing. Gardot faced brutal injuries and the healing setbacks and triumphs in her life come out in this particular song. Testimony brings out a tradition of the Psalms. Sometimes lament, sometimes victory. Sometimes confidence in God's presence, sometimes longing questions and frustration. Who will comfort me?
2. Songs of confession and songs of intercession. Years ago I had numerous opportunities to preach for the St. Dysmas prison congregation in the South Dakota State Penitentiary. I had some great conversations with the worship band. Though they loved playing worship music and praise songs, the jam sessions revealed more about their walk with God. What saddened me was that they thought their jams had no place in the worship service. One band member and I had a discussion around Molly Hatchet's "Flirtin' With Disaster." The song provided an entry point for this young man's story, his crimes and sins, his incarceration, and his relationship with God. I always thought it was a good song, though not a favorite. The song is now a favorite because it is an opportunity for me to pray for this young man--for healing, for forgiveness, for a newness of life each day, and a new start when he gets out of prison.
Unfortunately, my work with the Worship Wars of the past 30 or so years has been more about addressing conflict and congregational dynamics. In this season of my life, I hope for articulation of music as pastoral care and faith community building.
Excuse me--while I commute home tonight and listen to tunes from my iPhone, I will be in a place of worship. Through Christ, creation (music) and relationship--God heals.
That was a statement of an elder member of a congregation I served as an interim when I asked about the stories related to conflict over worship. One might call it the Thirty Years' War. The "Worship Wars" don't have the acrimony they once did even five years ago. I never understood the approach of the Worship Wars in "Mainline" Protestantism. Arguing over preferences produces no clarity, no mission, no deeper connection with the Divine.
I am not a worship scholar. I wouldn't even call myself gifted in worship methodology or theology. But I ponder the effects of music on my soul and my longing for God, desiring healing and wholeness, and where I see Christ. I have to provide the musical connection with God for myself, because the church for 30 years has been more interested in arguing about style preferences than offering to build my relationship with God and others in their spiritual growth. Recently I've been thinking less about my musical preferences and HOW I am connected to God and others by a particular song.
1. The role of testimony. Preachers and other deliverers of the Gospel can appropriately share their personal stories about the activity of God in their lives. I find meaning in that connection--why can't it be done with music? Case in point--a pastoral care song for me is from Melody Gardot's Who Will Comfort Me. The song is good in and of itself, but it means even more in light of Melody's own path of healing. Gardot faced brutal injuries and the healing setbacks and triumphs in her life come out in this particular song. Testimony brings out a tradition of the Psalms. Sometimes lament, sometimes victory. Sometimes confidence in God's presence, sometimes longing questions and frustration. Who will comfort me?
2. Songs of confession and songs of intercession. Years ago I had numerous opportunities to preach for the St. Dysmas prison congregation in the South Dakota State Penitentiary. I had some great conversations with the worship band. Though they loved playing worship music and praise songs, the jam sessions revealed more about their walk with God. What saddened me was that they thought their jams had no place in the worship service. One band member and I had a discussion around Molly Hatchet's "Flirtin' With Disaster." The song provided an entry point for this young man's story, his crimes and sins, his incarceration, and his relationship with God. I always thought it was a good song, though not a favorite. The song is now a favorite because it is an opportunity for me to pray for this young man--for healing, for forgiveness, for a newness of life each day, and a new start when he gets out of prison.
Unfortunately, my work with the Worship Wars of the past 30 or so years has been more about addressing conflict and congregational dynamics. In this season of my life, I hope for articulation of music as pastoral care and faith community building.
Excuse me--while I commute home tonight and listen to tunes from my iPhone, I will be in a place of worship. Through Christ, creation (music) and relationship--God heals.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Movie Reflection: Get Low
As a called and ordained minister of the Church of Christ, and by his authority, I therefore declare to you the entire forgiveness of all of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the +Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
For 10 years of my young life, The Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness, page 77 (coincidental to Mt 18:21-22?) in the The Lutheran Book of Worship (aka The Green Hymnal or the LBW) was my regular contact with the concept of forgiveness. I knew the page well, considering how the page curled from regular use, my ink-pen stained finger prints dotted the page, and the growing fuzzy edges prevented paper cuts. The LBW provided tactile reminders of sins committed and assurance of God's love in Christ, like a nun kneels and rubs her fingers along beads of a rosary. The "Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness" was usually the first act of public worship each Sunday morning. Alongside the sermon, the confession had the most impact on me in early Christian life. This practice suited me not because it's fun, but because I am a naturally reflective person. Where have I been? Where am I going? What is my relationship with God? I could ponder those questions for years, but in the span of a few minutes, my reflections and redemption took shape. Even though I have felt the impact of sin and the liberation of redemption, the power of confession and forgiveness can still be elusive.
Imagine reflecting upon haunting sins and the elusiveness of forgiveness for a span of 40-plus years. Though I could only imagine that kind of torment, the storytelling of the film Get Low took me inside one man's understanding of love, sin, forgiveness, penance and redemption--and how his thoughts and actions influenced others' views and actions. The film is a 1930's period piece from the Bible Belt with an interesting connection to my own faith tradition in the Evangelical Lutheran Church In America. The film made me realize the gift of confession and forgiveness in the life of the church and my own faith, but it also made me realize how the church's rituals and teaching can be deficient in people's real lives. The confession and forgiveness practice can be programmed and sometimes rote, and life in between the rituals and proclamations is much messier than people (clergy included) care to often times understand.
Though forgiveness is the driving theme, the story telling is well crafted and the character development, cinematography, and top notch Bluegrass music (Jerry Douglass and Alison Krauss, to name a few) maximize the theme's impact. Because the film is based on a true story, some details could not be fictionally created (you can't make this stuff up!). After 40-plus years living the life of a hermit, Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) comes to town wanting to throw a funeral party, his own, before he dies. The meaning of this funeral party is revealed through his interactions with a local funeral director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), his assistant (Lucas Black), two preachers, and an old friend (Sissy Spacek), and other town folk. For Frank Quinn, the funeral is unorthodox, but an opportunity to revive his sagging funeral business. For his assistant, his sense of right and wrong is constantly challenged.
A few sub themes worth noting in "Get Low" include the understanding of vocation in the world and how it is shared. Another sub-theme deals with how little people really know about one another--even in a small town. Another involves reflections upon integrity in the midst of personal identity and promises kept. It's one thing to teach, preach or discuss themes of sin, confession, forgiveness, redemption, vocation, relationships, promises, integrity and peace. Video is a special medium--and film story telling is a unique opportunity for impact, with the cinematography, music, and acting interpretation. Not only is the story and it's themes powerful because of the film making quality, but the humor is prevalent and disarming, but not distracting or trite. I can only tell you so much. Go see the film. Take adults. Take teenagers. Take someone you love. Talk about the film with one another. Journal about the film. Blog about the film. Tweet about the film.
For readers in the Puget Sound area, my wife and I viewed the film at Grand Cinema in Tacoma. This was our first trip to the Grand, and it represents all that is good about a trip to the movies--a non-profit cinema with lower prices and smaller concessions, staffed by friendly volunteers in a well-cared for setting both inside and out. We will go back because of the mission and the experience at the Grand.
For 10 years of my young life, The Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness, page 77 (coincidental to Mt 18:21-22?) in the The Lutheran Book of Worship (aka The Green Hymnal or the LBW) was my regular contact with the concept of forgiveness. I knew the page well, considering how the page curled from regular use, my ink-pen stained finger prints dotted the page, and the growing fuzzy edges prevented paper cuts. The LBW provided tactile reminders of sins committed and assurance of God's love in Christ, like a nun kneels and rubs her fingers along beads of a rosary. The "Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness" was usually the first act of public worship each Sunday morning. Alongside the sermon, the confession had the most impact on me in early Christian life. This practice suited me not because it's fun, but because I am a naturally reflective person. Where have I been? Where am I going? What is my relationship with God? I could ponder those questions for years, but in the span of a few minutes, my reflections and redemption took shape. Even though I have felt the impact of sin and the liberation of redemption, the power of confession and forgiveness can still be elusive.
Imagine reflecting upon haunting sins and the elusiveness of forgiveness for a span of 40-plus years. Though I could only imagine that kind of torment, the storytelling of the film Get Low took me inside one man's understanding of love, sin, forgiveness, penance and redemption--and how his thoughts and actions influenced others' views and actions. The film is a 1930's period piece from the Bible Belt with an interesting connection to my own faith tradition in the Evangelical Lutheran Church In America. The film made me realize the gift of confession and forgiveness in the life of the church and my own faith, but it also made me realize how the church's rituals and teaching can be deficient in people's real lives. The confession and forgiveness practice can be programmed and sometimes rote, and life in between the rituals and proclamations is much messier than people (clergy included) care to often times understand.
Though forgiveness is the driving theme, the story telling is well crafted and the character development, cinematography, and top notch Bluegrass music (Jerry Douglass and Alison Krauss, to name a few) maximize the theme's impact. Because the film is based on a true story, some details could not be fictionally created (you can't make this stuff up!). After 40-plus years living the life of a hermit, Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) comes to town wanting to throw a funeral party, his own, before he dies. The meaning of this funeral party is revealed through his interactions with a local funeral director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), his assistant (Lucas Black), two preachers, and an old friend (Sissy Spacek), and other town folk. For Frank Quinn, the funeral is unorthodox, but an opportunity to revive his sagging funeral business. For his assistant, his sense of right and wrong is constantly challenged.
A few sub themes worth noting in "Get Low" include the understanding of vocation in the world and how it is shared. Another sub-theme deals with how little people really know about one another--even in a small town. Another involves reflections upon integrity in the midst of personal identity and promises kept. It's one thing to teach, preach or discuss themes of sin, confession, forgiveness, redemption, vocation, relationships, promises, integrity and peace. Video is a special medium--and film story telling is a unique opportunity for impact, with the cinematography, music, and acting interpretation. Not only is the story and it's themes powerful because of the film making quality, but the humor is prevalent and disarming, but not distracting or trite. I can only tell you so much. Go see the film. Take adults. Take teenagers. Take someone you love. Talk about the film with one another. Journal about the film. Blog about the film. Tweet about the film.
For readers in the Puget Sound area, my wife and I viewed the film at Grand Cinema in Tacoma. This was our first trip to the Grand, and it represents all that is good about a trip to the movies--a non-profit cinema with lower prices and smaller concessions, staffed by friendly volunteers in a well-cared for setting both inside and out. We will go back because of the mission and the experience at the Grand.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Believe in the Freedom of Music (on the big screen): My Life with Rush
Say the name "Rush," and that four-letter name inspires millions of people. Not the radio commentator for me. I like the power trio from Toronto. I've been listening to Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson and Neil Peart at least as long as I've been listening to Lutheran liturgy and hymns, and far longer than any other kind of music I've heard in church. Their music has baffled, inspired and provoked me over three decades. Their work makes me think, ponder, and reflect. For many days over three decades, a Rush song provided the rhythm sequence, guitar riff, or crafted bass rumbling to establish a soundtrack for the day or give me some cathartic moments during a time of frustration. I know there is music in this world that is considered more holy, more critically acclaimed, or more artistic, but no other music in my lifetime has had the reach of Rush.
Rush comes to the Seattle Metro on August 7, and a documentary about their history will be released soon. Thank God for music. Life would be broken, sour and dull without it.
Rush comes to the Seattle Metro on August 7, and a documentary about their history will be released soon. Thank God for music. Life would be broken, sour and dull without it.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Sunday chaos highlights body of Christ and discipline lesson
Given my personality preferences, preparing for worship is not a highly detailed experience. I have learned to play and work with the detail-oriented folks over the years--but it's not completely for my benefit. To some degree, I am usually scrambling before a worship service about some detail. I suppose some of this pattern is related to interim ministry. By the time I am truly accustomed to flow of a congregation, it's time for me to go to the next congregation. However, there are days where any pastor is scrambling before a worship service because something has gone far off track. Sunday was one of those days.
Our music director, Bruce Ewen, had a bad fall while working at the local community theater. Though he attempted to play (he thought he may have had a broken arm), I wanted him to have doctors look at his injuries, and told him we could take care of things. We have several musicians in the congregation, but the ones who could probably help us immediately weren't available (at least in my limited time and understanding). With about 45 minutes before worship, I wasn't sure how we were going to pull everything off.
Madeleine Folkerts (above, playing one of the pieces used Sunday) was scheduled to play one piece, but she played a few extra pieces for the service--a postlude, some communion music and some meditative/prayerful pieces. Amy Hutchison accompanied in a pinch, and played beautifully so we didn't have to sing a cappella at the 930 and 11am services for Amazing Grace and Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee. Without Pastor Orv and Bruce around, I was dashing around and trying to maintain a sense of calm and decorum--with side dishes of humor and flexibility.
I even changed my sermon around a bit (though still focusing on 1 Corinthians 9: 19-27)--I was preaching about discipline and change, and I ended up preaching that in the Christian life, discipline is not for discipline's own sake. Discipline is not meant for someone in authority to control or abuse others. Discipline is a gift especially for the times of adversity. We even hosted a Tae Kwon Do demonstration during the sermon to lift visually depict the positive nature of discipline. We focus on Word and Sacrament as an extension of God's love and forgiveness, but also a discipline that brings together the people of God, so that sharing the Sacraments are part of our habits, even though the world around us may be in turmoil.
Looking back, the day of worship was blessed. The day didn't look blessed in the beginning. Maintaining calm and prayer were the first priorities. The day was blessed because of the faithfulness of God and the response of many in the body of Christ.
Our music director, Bruce Ewen, had a bad fall while working at the local community theater. Though he attempted to play (he thought he may have had a broken arm), I wanted him to have doctors look at his injuries, and told him we could take care of things. We have several musicians in the congregation, but the ones who could probably help us immediately weren't available (at least in my limited time and understanding). With about 45 minutes before worship, I wasn't sure how we were going to pull everything off.
Madeleine Folkerts (above, playing one of the pieces used Sunday) was scheduled to play one piece, but she played a few extra pieces for the service--a postlude, some communion music and some meditative/prayerful pieces. Amy Hutchison accompanied in a pinch, and played beautifully so we didn't have to sing a cappella at the 930 and 11am services for Amazing Grace and Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee. Without Pastor Orv and Bruce around, I was dashing around and trying to maintain a sense of calm and decorum--with side dishes of humor and flexibility.
I even changed my sermon around a bit (though still focusing on 1 Corinthians 9: 19-27)--I was preaching about discipline and change, and I ended up preaching that in the Christian life, discipline is not for discipline's own sake. Discipline is not meant for someone in authority to control or abuse others. Discipline is a gift especially for the times of adversity. We even hosted a Tae Kwon Do demonstration during the sermon to lift visually depict the positive nature of discipline. We focus on Word and Sacrament as an extension of God's love and forgiveness, but also a discipline that brings together the people of God, so that sharing the Sacraments are part of our habits, even though the world around us may be in turmoil.
Looking back, the day of worship was blessed. The day didn't look blessed in the beginning. Maintaining calm and prayer were the first priorities. The day was blessed because of the faithfulness of God and the response of many in the body of Christ.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Sunday Surprise: The Impact of Blessing
First Lutheran Community Church of Port Orchard hosted its first "Celebrating Faces" worship service Sunday, January 31. The intent behind the service is an intentional outreach to give thanks for people who serve in particular roles in a community--offering a particular message, music, encouragement and hospitality. The emphasis toward regular worshipers in the congregation was personal invitation to colleagues and friends. The 11am worship service on the last Sunday of the month will focus on a specific vocational track to share in an offering of thanks. The January 31 service emphasized health care workers. As outreach has not been my specialty in over 11 years of ordained ministry, I didn't know what to expect from the results of the efforts of numerous volunteers and my preparation and vision casting. Even though my expectations for the gathering were limited outside of dedicated work and hospitality, I was surprised that the greatest impact among those in attendance appeared to be the individual blessings of health care workers.
Blessing was not in my original worship planning. As I pondered what would make this service distinct from other worship opportunities at FLCC, all I had planned was slightly changing the sermon and offering some different music. Though I have yet to find another congregation that is offering a "vocational outreach service," I did learn that the PCUSA and UCC has designated Sundays during the year for awareness, thanksgiving and advocacy. The UCC had a Health and Human Services Sunday, and the PCUSA has some worship resources related to health ministries. These resources sparked some creativity, and a litany and blessing/laying on of hands were added to the order of worship. A sign language interpreter also signed two of the songs during worship.
I confess, I did not preach a great sermon during the 11am service. I was too tight worrying about details during the service--and I became distracted and tense during the sermon. I was too focused on self, rather than the faithful work of the volunteers gathering this group together--there had to be at least 20 volunteers along the way who were always positive about the project. This was a Holy Spirit gathering and I didn't need to worry. I sat down after the sermon, disappointed in my delivery. Then I realized (duh) that this service wasn't about me, but the sharing of thanks and the blessing of God. When I invited the health care workers in the congregation to come forward for blessing/laying on of hands, people started pouring forward. At least 20 people came, and Pastor George Larson and I shared blessings for these health care workers and their healing service for people in their daily work.
This is the fourth service in my 5 months at FLCC where I have presided over a specific group blessing during worship: school children with their backpacks, Affirmation of Baptism, Blue Christmas and now "Celebrating Faces." The desire to be encouraged and blessed was something I didn't see coming--the blessing was easily the most powerful part of the worship service. I am reminded how easy it is to be discouraged in life and that with prayer, thanks, hospitality (we offered a free meal, among other hospitality details), appropriate touch (laying on of hands), and an opportunity to connect with God and others, people can be affirmed in their value in God's world and given the strength to face their days. Though I've never been completely sure about where the greatest impact in any worshiping community lies, the impact of God's blessing repeatedly grabs my attention.
The congregation, volunteers and I still have much to learn about this outreach project--where will it go from here? What can we improve? What can be celebrated? I think we could all agree about the presence of God and the impact of the gathering. My hope is that this outreach can be easily passed on to the next pastor and that the volunteers continue with their insight, passion and initiative.
Blessing was not in my original worship planning. As I pondered what would make this service distinct from other worship opportunities at FLCC, all I had planned was slightly changing the sermon and offering some different music. Though I have yet to find another congregation that is offering a "vocational outreach service," I did learn that the PCUSA and UCC has designated Sundays during the year for awareness, thanksgiving and advocacy. The UCC had a Health and Human Services Sunday, and the PCUSA has some worship resources related to health ministries. These resources sparked some creativity, and a litany and blessing/laying on of hands were added to the order of worship. A sign language interpreter also signed two of the songs during worship.
I confess, I did not preach a great sermon during the 11am service. I was too tight worrying about details during the service--and I became distracted and tense during the sermon. I was too focused on self, rather than the faithful work of the volunteers gathering this group together--there had to be at least 20 volunteers along the way who were always positive about the project. This was a Holy Spirit gathering and I didn't need to worry. I sat down after the sermon, disappointed in my delivery. Then I realized (duh) that this service wasn't about me, but the sharing of thanks and the blessing of God. When I invited the health care workers in the congregation to come forward for blessing/laying on of hands, people started pouring forward. At least 20 people came, and Pastor George Larson and I shared blessings for these health care workers and their healing service for people in their daily work.
This is the fourth service in my 5 months at FLCC where I have presided over a specific group blessing during worship: school children with their backpacks, Affirmation of Baptism, Blue Christmas and now "Celebrating Faces." The desire to be encouraged and blessed was something I didn't see coming--the blessing was easily the most powerful part of the worship service. I am reminded how easy it is to be discouraged in life and that with prayer, thanks, hospitality (we offered a free meal, among other hospitality details), appropriate touch (laying on of hands), and an opportunity to connect with God and others, people can be affirmed in their value in God's world and given the strength to face their days. Though I've never been completely sure about where the greatest impact in any worshiping community lies, the impact of God's blessing repeatedly grabs my attention.
The congregation, volunteers and I still have much to learn about this outreach project--where will it go from here? What can we improve? What can be celebrated? I think we could all agree about the presence of God and the impact of the gathering. My hope is that this outreach can be easily passed on to the next pastor and that the volunteers continue with their insight, passion and initiative.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Sermon for January 24, 2010: "Does God Change?"
Theme: God is passionate about fulfilling promises made out of love to the children of God. Our own anxiety about change does not alter (what Walter Brueggemann calls) God's "resolve" in fulfilling those promises.
I have been wrestling with the question, "does God change?" for years. I identified Bible passages connecting God and change that appear to fall into two types.
Text group #1 God DOESN'T change, because mere mortals change. And God is not like a mortal.
Numbers 23
1 Samuel 15: 24-31
Malachi 3
Text Group #2 God changes in order to address present realities.
Genesis 18: 16-33
Exodus 32: 9-14
Jeremiah 18
Jeremiah 26
Jonah 3
I don't know about your thoughts, but I have grown weary of party politics. One of my maddening experiences: Republicans, Democrats, and many political analysts like to call out a "flip-flopper" to be publicly ridiculed. A politician makes a statement at some point in their life or career about a particular subject or issue. Then, at a later date makes another statement or acts in a way that depicts a change in perspective or opinion. One might say that reveals a character flaw in that politician. One might also say that the leader who "flip-flopped" gained new information or perspective and is taking appropriate corresponding action. Why the negative connotation to changing perspective?
I think people like their leaders to be predictable. To be a "flip-flopper" tends to make people feel uncertain about their futures. Uncertainty often leads to peril in our society. Markets tend to go down in the midst of uncertainty. The stock market took quite a tumble as votes were counted in Florida for Al Gore and George W. Bush in 2000 as people waited months after election day to learn who won the election. People tend to hold on to what they have and seem less willing to let go of their time, resources, talents and energy if they're not feeling sure about the future. This kind of anxiety development has a way of snowballing and be a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Increasing anxiety increases the demand for certainty.
This relationship between anxiety and demand for certainty is not only related to politics and economics, but also relationships. It's easy for one person to cling to a relationship or group in the midst of uncertainty. A person who has taken a hit to their self-confidence because of a life change might over-cling to a friend or significant other as a means to gain some certainty about their value when the life-change might call into question one's personal value. There is nothing wrong with looking for assurance from our loved ones and friends--but if we stay in that place of clinging, it can damage the relationship and become unhealthy.
The human demand for certainty in the midst of anxiety has carried significant consequences in the life of the Church. Pat Keifert of Luther Seminary often speaks about how the history of Lutheranism in the United States comes from hearty groups of immigrants from Northern Europe who were often literally starving. Coming to the United States represented an opportunity for survival and even prosperity. These immigrants faced all kinds of challenges and changes in their new life. They persevered, learning a new language, customs and ways of life. The one place where life didn't change was in the life of the Church and locally, in the life of a congregation. Well over 100 years sometimes passed before the language of the mother country was put aside for worship in English--and many Lutheran congregations still live (and die) as ethnic enclaves that change little, if any since the charter was established for that congregation. The Church for many Lutheran immigrants became a refuge from all the change going on in daily life--and that refuge from change became ascribed to God--for good or for ill. The Lutheran Church all over the Western world became a Church that was often more interested in how God didn't change than how God was changing in order to reveal the resolve necessary to fulfill God's promises.
Looking at the theme from the group of Bible passages from group #1, these passages state that God doesn't change as a mere mortal changes. Humans change in a variety of ways, but we change in contrast to God by how we struggle to keep our promises and often break them. We also often change our allegiances. We're often worse "flip-floppers" than the politicians whom we criticize. These ways that humans change are ways that God does not change. God goes literally goes through hell and high water to keep a covenant with Israel, and also to extend love to those who draw near to God who may be outside the nation of Israel--which would include us. Jesus literally goes through hell so that we may know that nothing will separate us from the love of God. We do not like this expansive love of God, especially when it applies to others, because we cannot predict God's action or affirm our own prejudices by the way that God does change. Walter Brueggemann states that God changes (particularly in 1 Samuel 15) to address the demands and realities of history. This dislike for God changing for present realities is the story of Jonah. Jonah does not like that God has spared the hated Ninevites, and spends a the last portion of the story pouting over the fact that God had changed. God becomes but another example of a leader who doesn't give us certainty. I tend to want change associated with God on my own terms, as does Jonah.
It is possible and even understandable to be shaken by the idea that God in some ways does change. For some, any notion that change can be linked to God shakes the foundation of faith. Considering what First Lutheran Community Church faces today in it's discussions about how to address resource struggles and their consequences might lead one to demand certainty on many fronts. Many heated debates in the Church and society reflect a demand for certainty and a demand for a statement that God does not change. These stories of the Bible about the relationship between God and change tell of a God who shows great resolve in fulfilling the promises of God to reach the world with God's mercy and love. God's faithfulness to God's promises does not change. God's resolve to keep those promises do not change. We are part of that resolve, and we are part of that change--Jesus changed the history of the world, and continues to change it. We can waste our energy demanding certainty and that others fall in line with the certainty we demand, or we can be a part of the resolve to serve God and bring the mercy and love of God to the world.
I have been wrestling with the question, "does God change?" for years. I identified Bible passages connecting God and change that appear to fall into two types.
Text group #1 God DOESN'T change, because mere mortals change. And God is not like a mortal.
Numbers 23
1 Samuel 15: 24-31
Malachi 3
Text Group #2 God changes in order to address present realities.
Genesis 18: 16-33
Exodus 32: 9-14
Jeremiah 18
Jeremiah 26
Jonah 3
I don't know about your thoughts, but I have grown weary of party politics. One of my maddening experiences: Republicans, Democrats, and many political analysts like to call out a "flip-flopper" to be publicly ridiculed. A politician makes a statement at some point in their life or career about a particular subject or issue. Then, at a later date makes another statement or acts in a way that depicts a change in perspective or opinion. One might say that reveals a character flaw in that politician. One might also say that the leader who "flip-flopped" gained new information or perspective and is taking appropriate corresponding action. Why the negative connotation to changing perspective?
I think people like their leaders to be predictable. To be a "flip-flopper" tends to make people feel uncertain about their futures. Uncertainty often leads to peril in our society. Markets tend to go down in the midst of uncertainty. The stock market took quite a tumble as votes were counted in Florida for Al Gore and George W. Bush in 2000 as people waited months after election day to learn who won the election. People tend to hold on to what they have and seem less willing to let go of their time, resources, talents and energy if they're not feeling sure about the future. This kind of anxiety development has a way of snowballing and be a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Increasing anxiety increases the demand for certainty.
This relationship between anxiety and demand for certainty is not only related to politics and economics, but also relationships. It's easy for one person to cling to a relationship or group in the midst of uncertainty. A person who has taken a hit to their self-confidence because of a life change might over-cling to a friend or significant other as a means to gain some certainty about their value when the life-change might call into question one's personal value. There is nothing wrong with looking for assurance from our loved ones and friends--but if we stay in that place of clinging, it can damage the relationship and become unhealthy.
The human demand for certainty in the midst of anxiety has carried significant consequences in the life of the Church. Pat Keifert of Luther Seminary often speaks about how the history of Lutheranism in the United States comes from hearty groups of immigrants from Northern Europe who were often literally starving. Coming to the United States represented an opportunity for survival and even prosperity. These immigrants faced all kinds of challenges and changes in their new life. They persevered, learning a new language, customs and ways of life. The one place where life didn't change was in the life of the Church and locally, in the life of a congregation. Well over 100 years sometimes passed before the language of the mother country was put aside for worship in English--and many Lutheran congregations still live (and die) as ethnic enclaves that change little, if any since the charter was established for that congregation. The Church for many Lutheran immigrants became a refuge from all the change going on in daily life--and that refuge from change became ascribed to God--for good or for ill. The Lutheran Church all over the Western world became a Church that was often more interested in how God didn't change than how God was changing in order to reveal the resolve necessary to fulfill God's promises.
Looking at the theme from the group of Bible passages from group #1, these passages state that God doesn't change as a mere mortal changes. Humans change in a variety of ways, but we change in contrast to God by how we struggle to keep our promises and often break them. We also often change our allegiances. We're often worse "flip-floppers" than the politicians whom we criticize. These ways that humans change are ways that God does not change. God goes literally goes through hell and high water to keep a covenant with Israel, and also to extend love to those who draw near to God who may be outside the nation of Israel--which would include us. Jesus literally goes through hell so that we may know that nothing will separate us from the love of God. We do not like this expansive love of God, especially when it applies to others, because we cannot predict God's action or affirm our own prejudices by the way that God does change. Walter Brueggemann states that God changes (particularly in 1 Samuel 15) to address the demands and realities of history. This dislike for God changing for present realities is the story of Jonah. Jonah does not like that God has spared the hated Ninevites, and spends a the last portion of the story pouting over the fact that God had changed. God becomes but another example of a leader who doesn't give us certainty. I tend to want change associated with God on my own terms, as does Jonah.
It is possible and even understandable to be shaken by the idea that God in some ways does change. For some, any notion that change can be linked to God shakes the foundation of faith. Considering what First Lutheran Community Church faces today in it's discussions about how to address resource struggles and their consequences might lead one to demand certainty on many fronts. Many heated debates in the Church and society reflect a demand for certainty and a demand for a statement that God does not change. These stories of the Bible about the relationship between God and change tell of a God who shows great resolve in fulfilling the promises of God to reach the world with God's mercy and love. God's faithfulness to God's promises does not change. God's resolve to keep those promises do not change. We are part of that resolve, and we are part of that change--Jesus changed the history of the world, and continues to change it. We can waste our energy demanding certainty and that others fall in line with the certainty we demand, or we can be a part of the resolve to serve God and bring the mercy and love of God to the world.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Follow up on Klosterman's "Eating The Dinosaur"
A few days ago I reviewed Chuck Klosterman's new book, "Eating The Dinosaur." The quality of his writing from my perspective has increased over the years because his writing continues to make me think, and I've looked for ways to continue reflection on the book's theme of reality construction.
I've been curious about his media presence. I don't think Klosterman keeps a Facebook page, and he doesn't use Twitter or blog. Some have criticized him for not being public enough with his thoughts and work. However, Klosterman does do speaking engagements and appears regularly enough on ESPN's Bill Simmons' podcast "The B.S. Report (see December 21)" for me to say that he's not a recluse, but choosy or even strategic about how he presents himself to the public. I think it would be impossible for Klosterman to be a recluse, considering his analysis of public interaction and reality construction. He is choosing to construct reality in a different way. I'm reading Douglas Coupland's new book (to be reviewed soon) "Generation A" and I have pondered why Coupland uses Twitter, but not Facebook. I think for us introverts, we are a little more thoughtful about how we construct reality, as opposed to those who prefer extroversion who get out there and make the contact, using whatever means possible. I don't want to diagnose Klosterman or Coupland, but when I think about social media and communication, I find it interesting the combination of communication employed.
I lift up the aforementioned podcast to further affirm Klosterman's implicit theological and philosophical thinking. He briefly discusses nihilism and more deeply the idiom of rock and roll. I think nihilism is an important topic for Christians to consider as we engage in conversations with agnostics and atheists in our world. My favorite contemporary nihilist is Dr. Gregory House on Fox Monday night television lineup. I still think he needs a better theological challenge from a storyline or character in the show, but I find House's atheism far more interesting than what is offered by the neo-atheist authors of the day like Harris or Hitchens. Klosterman briefly touches on the idea of a public perception of nihilism. He didn't expand upon the thought with depth, but the offering was sufficiently provocative.
The other interesting topic on the podcast interview is the discussion of what Klosterman calls "The Rock and Roll idiom." I think this is an important argument between Klosterman and Simmons with an application toward the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (RRHF), because Simmons argues for much more distinct genres of music, whereas Klosterman is much more comfortable with "the Rock and Roll idiom" reflected in the RRHF. I think this kind of discussion is pertinent to worship and music, especially in my experience with Mainline Protestant congregations--because we continue to have an oversimplified public discourse depicting a false dichotomy of "traditional" and "contemporary" music. If there is more creative discussion about worship and music somewhere, I would enjoy reading your comments, input, suggestions and leads.
If you don't have the time to read Klosterman and want an introduction to his thought processes, take a listen to the podcast and see if reading his book will be worth an investment in your time.
I've been curious about his media presence. I don't think Klosterman keeps a Facebook page, and he doesn't use Twitter or blog. Some have criticized him for not being public enough with his thoughts and work. However, Klosterman does do speaking engagements and appears regularly enough on ESPN's Bill Simmons' podcast "The B.S. Report (see December 21)" for me to say that he's not a recluse, but choosy or even strategic about how he presents himself to the public. I think it would be impossible for Klosterman to be a recluse, considering his analysis of public interaction and reality construction. He is choosing to construct reality in a different way. I'm reading Douglas Coupland's new book (to be reviewed soon) "Generation A" and I have pondered why Coupland uses Twitter, but not Facebook. I think for us introverts, we are a little more thoughtful about how we construct reality, as opposed to those who prefer extroversion who get out there and make the contact, using whatever means possible. I don't want to diagnose Klosterman or Coupland, but when I think about social media and communication, I find it interesting the combination of communication employed.
I lift up the aforementioned podcast to further affirm Klosterman's implicit theological and philosophical thinking. He briefly discusses nihilism and more deeply the idiom of rock and roll. I think nihilism is an important topic for Christians to consider as we engage in conversations with agnostics and atheists in our world. My favorite contemporary nihilist is Dr. Gregory House on Fox Monday night television lineup. I still think he needs a better theological challenge from a storyline or character in the show, but I find House's atheism far more interesting than what is offered by the neo-atheist authors of the day like Harris or Hitchens. Klosterman briefly touches on the idea of a public perception of nihilism. He didn't expand upon the thought with depth, but the offering was sufficiently provocative.
The other interesting topic on the podcast interview is the discussion of what Klosterman calls "The Rock and Roll idiom." I think this is an important argument between Klosterman and Simmons with an application toward the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (RRHF), because Simmons argues for much more distinct genres of music, whereas Klosterman is much more comfortable with "the Rock and Roll idiom" reflected in the RRHF. I think this kind of discussion is pertinent to worship and music, especially in my experience with Mainline Protestant congregations--because we continue to have an oversimplified public discourse depicting a false dichotomy of "traditional" and "contemporary" music. If there is more creative discussion about worship and music somewhere, I would enjoy reading your comments, input, suggestions and leads.
If you don't have the time to read Klosterman and want an introduction to his thought processes, take a listen to the podcast and see if reading his book will be worth an investment in your time.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Book #1 for 2010: Eating The Dinosaur by Chuck Klosterman
I have very high expectations for Chuck Klosterman. I read Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs a few years ago after reading his thought provoking pieces in ESPN The Magazine. What I appreciated was how he intelligently analyzed popular culture without making it sound like he was above it. Maybe I'm not well-read enough to know other authors who pull this off. Klosterman offers rare cultural critique. Often I have no idea what he's talking about, however, his writing still affirms my own intellectual abilities, all the while taking me to subjects I want to explore in depth. In the meantime, I laugh a lot when I read Klosterman.
Though I'm not quite sure about this yet, I think Klosterman's methodology for cultural critique is part of who I want to be as a preacher--a balance of challenge and affirmation. In the midst of my imagination and the imaginations of people in the congregation--all that we see and all that we experience during the week--God is speaking. If you're not a Klosterman reader, very rarely does he address explicitly theological themes, but I love how his mind works, and even more so, how he writes.
With that in mind, I want to tell you about his Fall 2009 release: Eating The Dinosaur. I was initially disappointed with this book, and limped through the first 50 pages wondering when I was going to enjoy his analysis again. Granted, my expectations may be too high, because Klosterman usually hits the ground running. Not so with "Eating The Dinosaur." He's setting the stage in almost a Pauline fashion, digging himself a hole that might have stopped me from reading the book if it was my first Klosterman read. While in the short term he may be lumbering in obscurity, he is setting the stage for something powerful.
Klosterman also adeptly traverses between "high" and "low" cultures without missing a beat. His chapter on ABBA was a breakthrough in the book for me because it addresses what lacks in any discussion about worship and music in most ELCA congregations I have served. What is the place of music in how we look at the world? What makes music endure and transcend? The amusing yet painful distinction about worship and music discussions in the ELCA over the years is the stance of superiority from most people who choose to make arguments. Klosterman moves beyond these type of arguments in his cultural critique and finds different angles to observe culture. Out of nowhere in the chapter comes a statement about Vladimir Putin and his relationship with the ABBA tribute band, Bjorn Again (I admit, this statement piqued my interest because my wife and I bought tickets for my parents for a double date to see Bjorn Again). In the end, Klosterman makes intriguing moves to point to a general thesis about the paths humanity takes to construct reality. I think reality construction is important to consider for the Church, especially considering what different people consider to be important tenets of theology. Christians of different stripes construct realities based on the theological idea that we are all part of a fallen, sinful humanity, or the idea that the Bible is "inerrant." In Klosterman, everyone can participate in the philosophical discussion, whether you enjoy reading Martin Heidegger or Eric Alterman, or listening to Nirvana, ABBA, AC/DC, or any combination thereof. Even viewers of the most popular sport in the United States, football, can participate in philosophical work.
Sometimes Klosterman maneuvers through various topics at dizzying speed. Have no fear--Klosterman's non-fiction titles contain indexes. If you don't remember where you read about Martin Heidegger, you can find him on page 215. If you don't remember where you read about Uncle Tom's Cabin, it can be found on page 202. Gene Simmons, page 109; FDR, page 35; barefoot punting, page 143.
Though I'm not quite sure about this yet, I think Klosterman's methodology for cultural critique is part of who I want to be as a preacher--a balance of challenge and affirmation. In the midst of my imagination and the imaginations of people in the congregation--all that we see and all that we experience during the week--God is speaking. If you're not a Klosterman reader, very rarely does he address explicitly theological themes, but I love how his mind works, and even more so, how he writes.
With that in mind, I want to tell you about his Fall 2009 release: Eating The Dinosaur. I was initially disappointed with this book, and limped through the first 50 pages wondering when I was going to enjoy his analysis again. Granted, my expectations may be too high, because Klosterman usually hits the ground running. Not so with "Eating The Dinosaur." He's setting the stage in almost a Pauline fashion, digging himself a hole that might have stopped me from reading the book if it was my first Klosterman read. While in the short term he may be lumbering in obscurity, he is setting the stage for something powerful.
Klosterman also adeptly traverses between "high" and "low" cultures without missing a beat. His chapter on ABBA was a breakthrough in the book for me because it addresses what lacks in any discussion about worship and music in most ELCA congregations I have served. What is the place of music in how we look at the world? What makes music endure and transcend? The amusing yet painful distinction about worship and music discussions in the ELCA over the years is the stance of superiority from most people who choose to make arguments. Klosterman moves beyond these type of arguments in his cultural critique and finds different angles to observe culture. Out of nowhere in the chapter comes a statement about Vladimir Putin and his relationship with the ABBA tribute band, Bjorn Again (I admit, this statement piqued my interest because my wife and I bought tickets for my parents for a double date to see Bjorn Again). In the end, Klosterman makes intriguing moves to point to a general thesis about the paths humanity takes to construct reality. I think reality construction is important to consider for the Church, especially considering what different people consider to be important tenets of theology. Christians of different stripes construct realities based on the theological idea that we are all part of a fallen, sinful humanity, or the idea that the Bible is "inerrant." In Klosterman, everyone can participate in the philosophical discussion, whether you enjoy reading Martin Heidegger or Eric Alterman, or listening to Nirvana, ABBA, AC/DC, or any combination thereof. Even viewers of the most popular sport in the United States, football, can participate in philosophical work.
Sometimes Klosterman maneuvers through various topics at dizzying speed. Have no fear--Klosterman's non-fiction titles contain indexes. If you don't remember where you read about Martin Heidegger, you can find him on page 215. If you don't remember where you read about Uncle Tom's Cabin, it can be found on page 202. Gene Simmons, page 109; FDR, page 35; barefoot punting, page 143.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Sermon Prayers and Thoughts: Staring at the Barren Ground: People, Look East!
The sermons of December are related to favorite stories connected to Jesus' birth. Before we get to Jesus' birth, we take a visit to the family birth story of John the Baptist and his parents, Zechariah and Elizabeth in Luke 1.
Birth stories are popular to this day. Melanie and I recently watched the popular film "Knocked Up." The story highlights the birth of a child in a tenuous situation--which is actually a common theme. Even though the circumstances have some unique qualities today, there are some common themes to all stories related to birth.
Elizabeth and Zechariah's story follows a long tradition of stories related to the arrival of a child. Though the circumstances from story to story may be different, a lot of similar things happen. The parents-to-be are anxious. They move through periods of excitement, amazement, doubt, bewilderment and feelings of inadequacy. This is very common in story telling. When a familiar story is told, it engages the audience, but also makes them more sensitive to differences in characters. Biblical scholar Amy-Jill Levine shares some excellent work related to how story types in the Bible are very important in conveying messages about God, faith and community life. It doesn't take a sophisticated mind to recognize story patterns--if we name a type of story, we almost don't have to watch the story to give a basic outline of the plot. If I say "Western," you can probably give a plot outline. If I say "murder mystery," you can give a plot outline. If I say "situation comedy from the 1970's," I could give a plot outline. As a child, Tuesday evening television was devoted to my indoctrination into the power of familiar stories. If I had done my homework and got ready for bed, I could watch Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley. I knew the plot lines for Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley: each one of the characters took their turns in messing something up, only to be remedied by a young and cool Italian man. One of those Italian heroes being Arthur Fonzarelli, the other being Carmine Ragusa. They weren't the most educated, or even wealthy. Their M.O. was using their own special gift in a pressure situation. Carmine believed in honor, and his artistic abilities. The FONZ was all about grace under pressure. He really didn't even need to throw a punch, though occasionally showed the ability to throw a punch. I think I liked these characters because I was also an aspiring young Italian man who wanted to make a difference in people's lives.
Birth stories are prevalent in the Old Testament. Why tell a birth story? What does the birth story say about God and God's people?
Genesis 11 is part of the story of Abraham and Sarah and their son, Isaac.
Genesis 25 is part of the story about Isaac and Rebekah and their son, Jacob.
Genesis 29 is part of the story about Jacob and Rachel and their son, Joseph.
Judges 13 tells the story of Samson and his parents.
1 Samuel tells the story of Samuel's parents Eli and Hannah.
What do all of these stories have in common besides the birth of a son? Each of these women is considered "barren." The audience of these stories probably knew what was coming next in these kinds of stories, probably recognizing the same nuances I did with my Tuesday night situation comedies on ABC KOMO TV4. Though each of these women are barren, each has its own twist of plot or characterization.
A few interesting points about Elizabeth and Zechariah. Zechariah was a priest and charged with the care of communal faith life. He was living his calling and making a difference for the community of faith. Elizabeth was a descendant of Moses' brother Aaron. This was an important couple in the community. Luke 1:6 tells us that both were blameless and upright, following the commandments of God. Yet, Elizabeth was barren--she could not give birth to a child, what some might consider a curse. Like in the story of Job, the main characters have done nothing to deserve the circumstance in their life. Barrenness is not seen as a consequence, but a condition of life--and an opportunity.
I really love my life when things seem to click and move well. I like it when I'm funny. I like it when I have a good conversation with my wife, or connect with my kids. I like life when I have a good idea, or solve a problem. I like it when I read voraciously, write prolifically and pray earnestly. The problem is those times become a temptation to think I can somehow live without God (kind of interesting when I actually have a good prayer life). When life is not clicking, I think God is absent, but actually God is at work. Barrenness in Luke chapter 1 is not a punishment, or the absence of God, but an open field for the love and action of God to be made known for the people who are looking. Even though Zechariah and Elizabeth experienced barrenness, they still couldn't see the possibilities that God had through them. Even though Zechariah was blameless, he had famous last words (literally and figuratively), challenging the Angel Gabriel, "But my wife is getting on in years." His doubt landed a long sentence of muteness. So much for being blameless and upright.
Whatever barrenness we experience in life, personal or communal, it is time for the people of God to "look East," and look up and proclaim the action of God, even in places that appear to be barren. God is at work.
Birth stories are popular to this day. Melanie and I recently watched the popular film "Knocked Up." The story highlights the birth of a child in a tenuous situation--which is actually a common theme. Even though the circumstances have some unique qualities today, there are some common themes to all stories related to birth.
Elizabeth and Zechariah's story follows a long tradition of stories related to the arrival of a child. Though the circumstances from story to story may be different, a lot of similar things happen. The parents-to-be are anxious. They move through periods of excitement, amazement, doubt, bewilderment and feelings of inadequacy. This is very common in story telling. When a familiar story is told, it engages the audience, but also makes them more sensitive to differences in characters. Biblical scholar Amy-Jill Levine shares some excellent work related to how story types in the Bible are very important in conveying messages about God, faith and community life. It doesn't take a sophisticated mind to recognize story patterns--if we name a type of story, we almost don't have to watch the story to give a basic outline of the plot. If I say "Western," you can probably give a plot outline. If I say "murder mystery," you can give a plot outline. If I say "situation comedy from the 1970's," I could give a plot outline. As a child, Tuesday evening television was devoted to my indoctrination into the power of familiar stories. If I had done my homework and got ready for bed, I could watch Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley. I knew the plot lines for Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley: each one of the characters took their turns in messing something up, only to be remedied by a young and cool Italian man. One of those Italian heroes being Arthur Fonzarelli, the other being Carmine Ragusa. They weren't the most educated, or even wealthy. Their M.O. was using their own special gift in a pressure situation. Carmine believed in honor, and his artistic abilities. The FONZ was all about grace under pressure. He really didn't even need to throw a punch, though occasionally showed the ability to throw a punch. I think I liked these characters because I was also an aspiring young Italian man who wanted to make a difference in people's lives.
Birth stories are prevalent in the Old Testament. Why tell a birth story? What does the birth story say about God and God's people?
Genesis 11 is part of the story of Abraham and Sarah and their son, Isaac.
Genesis 25 is part of the story about Isaac and Rebekah and their son, Jacob.
Genesis 29 is part of the story about Jacob and Rachel and their son, Joseph.
Judges 13 tells the story of Samson and his parents.
1 Samuel tells the story of Samuel's parents Eli and Hannah.
What do all of these stories have in common besides the birth of a son? Each of these women is considered "barren." The audience of these stories probably knew what was coming next in these kinds of stories, probably recognizing the same nuances I did with my Tuesday night situation comedies on ABC KOMO TV4. Though each of these women are barren, each has its own twist of plot or characterization.
A few interesting points about Elizabeth and Zechariah. Zechariah was a priest and charged with the care of communal faith life. He was living his calling and making a difference for the community of faith. Elizabeth was a descendant of Moses' brother Aaron. This was an important couple in the community. Luke 1:6 tells us that both were blameless and upright, following the commandments of God. Yet, Elizabeth was barren--she could not give birth to a child, what some might consider a curse. Like in the story of Job, the main characters have done nothing to deserve the circumstance in their life. Barrenness is not seen as a consequence, but a condition of life--and an opportunity.
I really love my life when things seem to click and move well. I like it when I'm funny. I like it when I have a good conversation with my wife, or connect with my kids. I like life when I have a good idea, or solve a problem. I like it when I read voraciously, write prolifically and pray earnestly. The problem is those times become a temptation to think I can somehow live without God (kind of interesting when I actually have a good prayer life). When life is not clicking, I think God is absent, but actually God is at work. Barrenness in Luke chapter 1 is not a punishment, or the absence of God, but an open field for the love and action of God to be made known for the people who are looking. Even though Zechariah and Elizabeth experienced barrenness, they still couldn't see the possibilities that God had through them. Even though Zechariah was blameless, he had famous last words (literally and figuratively), challenging the Angel Gabriel, "But my wife is getting on in years." His doubt landed a long sentence of muteness. So much for being blameless and upright.
Whatever barrenness we experience in life, personal or communal, it is time for the people of God to "look East," and look up and proclaim the action of God, even in places that appear to be barren. God is at work.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Thanksgiving aftershock averted by restoration
Thanksgiving, Advent, and Christmas can be stressful times in a pastor's life. I still think it merely ranks #3 on the list of busy/stressful times of the year for a pastor. #1 is Lent/Easter. #2 is September programming kick-off time.
What carries me through the last two months of the year is that November and December carry a unique set of joys--images of light, harvest, new beginnings, abundance, hope, natural beauty, peace and gathering. Sometimes I go into December wondering how I can possibly complete the tasks in front of me. My Thanksgiving service sermon addressed that the path to God's restorative power in both individual and corporate life is through gratitude (at least according to Psalm 126). I've received more feedback on this sermon than any I have preached in three months at First Lutheran Community Church. The blessing of sharing that word was that we had an abundance of gifts gathered at the FLCC sanctuary that night. The people of four congregations (Elim Lutheran, Spirit of Life Lutheran, St. Bede's Episcopal and FLCC) contributed on many levels and came to celebrate the goodness of God. Psalm 126 had something specific to say to each congregation and individual, because in these days of darkness, both literally and figuratively, we all need God's restoration. Each congregation is dealing with their own darkness whether it's related to denominations, polity and theology, or finance and resources. Gratitude is a path to God's restoration.
This morning I had the gift of crossing the Tacoma Narrows with the expansive view of a blue moon, the snowy Olympic Mountains, the sun shimmering on the Salish Sea, the bridge reaching up to the sky as if praising God, and the evergreen trees standing like a welcoming and guiding sentry to those traveling to the Kitsap Peninsula. At that moment I had a concrete application of gratitude: if I ever took for granted the scenery God created for me to view and traverse as a youth, I will never take it for granted again. I think we know that gratitude is enhanced by singing, but it's one thing to know it, and another thing to do it. My three-year-old, Ashling, encourages me to loudly express that gratitude, "Sing, Daddy! Sing!" We've got our own song to express gratitude recently: "Alright" by Darius Rucker. Ashling is great at keeping me connected to restorative music. Psalm 126 reminded me about the power of gratitude, that gratitude is God's method of restoration. Ashling tells me to sing that gratitude--that gratitude is a practice, a discipline, and a joyful practice at that. After an evening church council meeting and a long list of tasks for the day, I don't approach them with dread or live in an aftershock from challenges and anxiety. That restoration gave me the opportunity to proclaim hope in the power of the Holy Spirit at work in the congregation while I met with a group of men from FLCC at their weekly breakfast. We talked about what God is up to--and they shared even more restorative encouragement to me. Thank God I am restored, and I'll be ready to go that well again.
What carries me through the last two months of the year is that November and December carry a unique set of joys--images of light, harvest, new beginnings, abundance, hope, natural beauty, peace and gathering. Sometimes I go into December wondering how I can possibly complete the tasks in front of me. My Thanksgiving service sermon addressed that the path to God's restorative power in both individual and corporate life is through gratitude (at least according to Psalm 126). I've received more feedback on this sermon than any I have preached in three months at First Lutheran Community Church. The blessing of sharing that word was that we had an abundance of gifts gathered at the FLCC sanctuary that night. The people of four congregations (Elim Lutheran, Spirit of Life Lutheran, St. Bede's Episcopal and FLCC) contributed on many levels and came to celebrate the goodness of God. Psalm 126 had something specific to say to each congregation and individual, because in these days of darkness, both literally and figuratively, we all need God's restoration. Each congregation is dealing with their own darkness whether it's related to denominations, polity and theology, or finance and resources. Gratitude is a path to God's restoration.
This morning I had the gift of crossing the Tacoma Narrows with the expansive view of a blue moon, the snowy Olympic Mountains, the sun shimmering on the Salish Sea, the bridge reaching up to the sky as if praising God, and the evergreen trees standing like a welcoming and guiding sentry to those traveling to the Kitsap Peninsula. At that moment I had a concrete application of gratitude: if I ever took for granted the scenery God created for me to view and traverse as a youth, I will never take it for granted again. I think we know that gratitude is enhanced by singing, but it's one thing to know it, and another thing to do it. My three-year-old, Ashling, encourages me to loudly express that gratitude, "Sing, Daddy! Sing!" We've got our own song to express gratitude recently: "Alright" by Darius Rucker. Ashling is great at keeping me connected to restorative music. Psalm 126 reminded me about the power of gratitude, that gratitude is God's method of restoration. Ashling tells me to sing that gratitude--that gratitude is a practice, a discipline, and a joyful practice at that. After an evening church council meeting and a long list of tasks for the day, I don't approach them with dread or live in an aftershock from challenges and anxiety. That restoration gave me the opportunity to proclaim hope in the power of the Holy Spirit at work in the congregation while I met with a group of men from FLCC at their weekly breakfast. We talked about what God is up to--and they shared even more restorative encouragement to me. Thank God I am restored, and I'll be ready to go that well again.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Living Sabbath is miserably failing
For most of the 11 years of ordained ministry, taking a day off was an easy thing to do. The day apart was carved into the week and a good habit. These days, Sabbath is consumed, not so much by working too much, but commuting--I've been doing 3-4 hours in the car per day. I'm not sure how to address this new issue. I'm spending a lot of time traversing the Puget Sound, not completing all the tasks I wish to complete. Maybe I'm imagining a lack of productivity. When I spend all that time in the car, the work still has to get done, and some of that work ends up falling on a Friday. My designated Sabbath is a failure at this point.
Even though I loathe the inefficient committee structure, these regular meetings were dependable in that I was reliably present to groups of people in the congregation. I still don't want to go back to that life of committees, but making the best out of my time is a new dynamic. I've always worked toward being a good time steward--I just need to find new ways to do it. For First Lutheran Community Church, the sermon and music matter greatly. The sermon remains a high-investment activity, and the Transition Team will take a significant effort.
I appreciate all of the feedback about the tweets and blogposts--many folks come through the worship and gathering space and thank me for the writing. This writing-feedback cycle is a new paradigm for me in congregational communication--I'm still getting used to it.
Friday is devoted to getting my home in order while intermittently preparing for the Council/Staff Retreat in Silverdale on Saturday. I'll let you know how that goes, because I'm considering widening the circle for what I teach Saturday to the congregation, possibly in a Wednesday evening class.
Even though I loathe the inefficient committee structure, these regular meetings were dependable in that I was reliably present to groups of people in the congregation. I still don't want to go back to that life of committees, but making the best out of my time is a new dynamic. I've always worked toward being a good time steward--I just need to find new ways to do it. For First Lutheran Community Church, the sermon and music matter greatly. The sermon remains a high-investment activity, and the Transition Team will take a significant effort.
I appreciate all of the feedback about the tweets and blogposts--many folks come through the worship and gathering space and thank me for the writing. This writing-feedback cycle is a new paradigm for me in congregational communication--I'm still getting used to it.
Friday is devoted to getting my home in order while intermittently preparing for the Council/Staff Retreat in Silverdale on Saturday. I'll let you know how that goes, because I'm considering widening the circle for what I teach Saturday to the congregation, possibly in a Wednesday evening class.
Monday, October 26, 2009
For the Kitsap County Locals: Good Live Music Coming to Bremerton
I thought I was missing out on my favorite band of the past 5 years, Great Big Sea, on tour supporting their newest release "Fortune's Favour." Not only is it one of the bands that my entire family enjoys, but it's a rare band that has songs with staying power for me. They will be performing at Bremerton's Admiral Theatre on Saturday, November 21. My wife and I are enjoying a date night that evening. I wouldn't take away or add anything to the Admiral Theatre's description of Great Big Sea. If it sounds like your kind of night out, I would highly encourage an evening of excellent music in Bremerton. Maybe we'll see you there!
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