In an old Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, the two have the following conversation. Calvin says to Hobbes: "Live for the moment is my motto. You never know how long you've got." He goes on to explain: "You could step into the road tomorrow and WHAM, you get hit by a cement truck! Then you'd be sorry you put off your pleasures. That's what I say, live for the moment." Then he asks Hobbes, "What's your motto?" Hobbes replies: "My motto is look down the road."
In looking down the road in 2010, I don't see myself continuing this blog. I'm pretty sure those who encouraged me in the beginning have moved on to other things. Plus, I'd hoped for comments and dialogue which haven't happened. So, I think it's time to pull the plug.
I very much needed to do this right after I retired and I'm glad I did it. It was rarely a chore and often fun. Thanks to those who encouraged me and read my musings. If you think plug pulling is not in order, you can email me at jerry.harber@gmail.com and we'll see. Otherwise: it's been fun.
Peace,
Jerry+
Monday, November 30, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Life and Death
Yesterday, my wife's family made the decision to remove her dad from a ventilator. He's been declining since having broken his hip. For weeks, he's been on oxygen and the last several days on the vent. When we got to the hospital yesterday after church, his doctor told us he doubted Charles, 87, would last through the night. The family decided to not keep him alive artificially.
We'd agreed that everybody could be at the hospital by 4:00--many live in Arkansas--and that would be our target time. It actually ended up being 4:30 when we all left the room and the staff began disconnecting him from his various tubes and removed the vent tube. Within five minutes, we were all back, not knowing if Charles would last a few minutes, a few hours, or even a day or more.
For the first time in over two weeks, he was able to open his eyes. He couldn't speak, but I could see him looking deeply into the eyes of his wife of over 60 years . He stared for what seemed to be five minutes as if he was aware she was there looking back. It was a beautiful moment. Then his gaze drifted and his eyes closed. We watched the monitor that showed his respiration rate, his heart rate and his oxygen level in his blood. They all began a slow descent. At 5:15, they showed zero and nothing but flat lines appeared on the monitor. Charles was gone. His last moments had been peaceful as we had prayed they would be.
Slowly we drifted from his bedside and prepared to leave the hospital for the last time. As we gathered in the lobby later, someone said, "I'm hungry. Let's all go somewhere." So three generations of survivors headed out in search of food. Half an hour later, we were sitting together at a long table at a local restaurant. The conversation was light-hearted for the most part. There is no weeping. No reminiscing. Just banter as we ate so we could go on living.
I have experienced the death of my grandfather, my father, my mother and both my two brothers. One of my brothers died in his home, to be discovered later. But, my grandfather died in our home. My father, mother and older brother in hospitals. Watching Charles decline over the past several weeks has brought back a lot of memories. I watched my grandfather, my parents and my brother, decline with death approaching and inevitable. All those memories were stirred up. My sympathy for my wife and her family, my sadness at Charles' passing, were all bound up in my own reexperienced pain.
At my age, the death of others close to you offers an opportunity to project into the future, too. I know that the day will come, probably within in the next 20 years, when my family will be gathered at my bedside, perhaps making hard decisions. I don't mean to sound morbid about it, but I am very aware today of my mortality.
Still, life goes on. We will experience the pain of the funeral and burial later this week, but in the meantime and afterwards, life will go on. We all have to make the most of it. That's what I've been thinking.
Peace,
Jerry+
We'd agreed that everybody could be at the hospital by 4:00--many live in Arkansas--and that would be our target time. It actually ended up being 4:30 when we all left the room and the staff began disconnecting him from his various tubes and removed the vent tube. Within five minutes, we were all back, not knowing if Charles would last a few minutes, a few hours, or even a day or more.
For the first time in over two weeks, he was able to open his eyes. He couldn't speak, but I could see him looking deeply into the eyes of his wife of over 60 years . He stared for what seemed to be five minutes as if he was aware she was there looking back. It was a beautiful moment. Then his gaze drifted and his eyes closed. We watched the monitor that showed his respiration rate, his heart rate and his oxygen level in his blood. They all began a slow descent. At 5:15, they showed zero and nothing but flat lines appeared on the monitor. Charles was gone. His last moments had been peaceful as we had prayed they would be.
Slowly we drifted from his bedside and prepared to leave the hospital for the last time. As we gathered in the lobby later, someone said, "I'm hungry. Let's all go somewhere." So three generations of survivors headed out in search of food. Half an hour later, we were sitting together at a long table at a local restaurant. The conversation was light-hearted for the most part. There is no weeping. No reminiscing. Just banter as we ate so we could go on living.
I have experienced the death of my grandfather, my father, my mother and both my two brothers. One of my brothers died in his home, to be discovered later. But, my grandfather died in our home. My father, mother and older brother in hospitals. Watching Charles decline over the past several weeks has brought back a lot of memories. I watched my grandfather, my parents and my brother, decline with death approaching and inevitable. All those memories were stirred up. My sympathy for my wife and her family, my sadness at Charles' passing, were all bound up in my own reexperienced pain.
At my age, the death of others close to you offers an opportunity to project into the future, too. I know that the day will come, probably within in the next 20 years, when my family will be gathered at my bedside, perhaps making hard decisions. I don't mean to sound morbid about it, but I am very aware today of my mortality.
Still, life goes on. We will experience the pain of the funeral and burial later this week, but in the meantime and afterwards, life will go on. We all have to make the most of it. That's what I've been thinking.
Peace,
Jerry+
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
All Saints
This past Sunday was All Saints Day. The day entered the Christian calendar in an odd fashion. Beginning with the persecutions in the early centuries of the Church, many who were killed for their faith were dubbed "saints." In the beginning, local communities might begin to venerate a local saint. They might also build a church on or near the site of his/her martyrdom or obtain a relic belonging to the saint for an existing church. These individual saints might well be recognized nowhere but in their original community.
As Christianity grew and the need for more order and organization was felt, many of these local saints were accepted by the whole Church as someone who represented the best of the faith. A day was set aside to remember them with a feast and a special Eucharist. Soon, the calendar began to fill with saints and by the 1500s there were as many as 70 or 80 feast days a year! (That's about one a week, which could really cut into production since feast days were holidays. How this got dealt with is another story though.)
Even so, religious leaders began to be concerned about saints who might never have been recognized for various reasons. To remedy the situation, a day was set aside to remember all the rest of the saint, especially those without a "day", and that day of recognition became All Saints Day.
Human beings being what they are, some were perplexed that not everyone was being prayed for who had died, so the day after All Saints Day was designated All Soul's Day so the Church could pray for all souls who had died in the faith, no matter what the circumstances. Most churches just do this remembering on All Saints Day and don't celebrate All Soul's Day. Thinking, I suppose, "enough is enough."
Like all good things, it's easy to let this good thing of remembering take on a life of its own. Or worse, just ignore the "saints." Even taking into account the exaggerated "lives" of some of the saints, especially the earlier ones, we would do well to learn from them and the sacrifices many of them made. A study of the lives of saints, once a very popular devotion, might be helpful again. At least, that's what I've been thinking. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry+
As Christianity grew and the need for more order and organization was felt, many of these local saints were accepted by the whole Church as someone who represented the best of the faith. A day was set aside to remember them with a feast and a special Eucharist. Soon, the calendar began to fill with saints and by the 1500s there were as many as 70 or 80 feast days a year! (That's about one a week, which could really cut into production since feast days were holidays. How this got dealt with is another story though.)
Even so, religious leaders began to be concerned about saints who might never have been recognized for various reasons. To remedy the situation, a day was set aside to remember all the rest of the saint, especially those without a "day", and that day of recognition became All Saints Day.
Human beings being what they are, some were perplexed that not everyone was being prayed for who had died, so the day after All Saints Day was designated All Soul's Day so the Church could pray for all souls who had died in the faith, no matter what the circumstances. Most churches just do this remembering on All Saints Day and don't celebrate All Soul's Day. Thinking, I suppose, "enough is enough."
Like all good things, it's easy to let this good thing of remembering take on a life of its own. Or worse, just ignore the "saints." Even taking into account the exaggerated "lives" of some of the saints, especially the earlier ones, we would do well to learn from them and the sacrifices many of them made. A study of the lives of saints, once a very popular devotion, might be helpful again. At least, that's what I've been thinking. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Solving Problems
Back in 1978, I was assigned to a small parish in Memphis. Like all United Methodists, I arrived in the summer. Toward the end of the summer I was asked if we were going to resume Sunday evening worship services when fall arrived. Since it was the first I'd heard about it, I needed more info.
I learned that the service was about two years old and typically broke for the summer months. Attendance was maybe 20 people as compared to perhaps 150 on Sunday morning. Plus, these 20 would almost always have been present at the morning service. My initial reaction wasn't very positive since it seemed to me it was a lot of expense for little return--to put it in business terms. After all, it meant paying utilities to open the building again, paying the organist for a second service, and the extra time for me to prepare a second service with sermon. I kept that thought to myself and instead asked this question: What need are we trying to meet by adding a second service?
One of the things I experienced over and over in couple counseling and in business consulting is an interesting phenomenon. People often "prescribe" before they "diagnose," that is, without fully understanding the nature of a given problem, people launch into a solution. One school of therapy even posits that when couples do that, the problem they come to see the therapist about is the solution they had imposed on themselves. The therapist is advised to "get them to stop doing that" in the hope they will stumble upon a more effective solution.
An example in couple therapy which I encountered frequently was lots of arguments between spouses, often very heated. I might ask a husband or wife, "what do you hope to accomplish by yelling at your spouse?" The answer isn't as straightforward as you might expect. It typically took some probing and in almost every case, the goal was to "get my spouse to love me." Needless to say, the solution of yelling wasn't accomplishing that.
With that in mind, I asked my parishioners this question: "what are the reasons behind adding a second worship service?" When all was said and done, this was the answer: "some of us don't thing we're getting enough out of the morning service." I asked, "Will doing more of the same solve the problem? After all, attendance is pretty low at the second service."
I suggested there might be two alternatives open to us. One would be to reexamine the morning service and see if there were some way to have it meet the still unspecified need. Another would be to offer a series of small classes on Sunday night all about Christian living. We opted for the second solution.
For our first series we had three small groups; one led by me and two led by visiting leaders. Our average attendance over the six weeks of the experiment was 70. I'd say we had found a solution to whatever was missing on Sunday morning.
The question: "What problem am I trying to solve?" is a very important one. And typically it requires some "onion peeling," that is, some investigation that probes the easy answers. My experience tells me it almost always pays off. I've been thinking about this when I see institutions at work. Quick answers, such as, "more cops on the streets," or "a second worship service," probably aren't going to make any real difference. But quick answers are tantalizing because they give us quick relief. But quick relief rarely solves underlying problems or addresses underlying needs.
Peace,
Jerry+
I learned that the service was about two years old and typically broke for the summer months. Attendance was maybe 20 people as compared to perhaps 150 on Sunday morning. Plus, these 20 would almost always have been present at the morning service. My initial reaction wasn't very positive since it seemed to me it was a lot of expense for little return--to put it in business terms. After all, it meant paying utilities to open the building again, paying the organist for a second service, and the extra time for me to prepare a second service with sermon. I kept that thought to myself and instead asked this question: What need are we trying to meet by adding a second service?
One of the things I experienced over and over in couple counseling and in business consulting is an interesting phenomenon. People often "prescribe" before they "diagnose," that is, without fully understanding the nature of a given problem, people launch into a solution. One school of therapy even posits that when couples do that, the problem they come to see the therapist about is the solution they had imposed on themselves. The therapist is advised to "get them to stop doing that" in the hope they will stumble upon a more effective solution.
An example in couple therapy which I encountered frequently was lots of arguments between spouses, often very heated. I might ask a husband or wife, "what do you hope to accomplish by yelling at your spouse?" The answer isn't as straightforward as you might expect. It typically took some probing and in almost every case, the goal was to "get my spouse to love me." Needless to say, the solution of yelling wasn't accomplishing that.
With that in mind, I asked my parishioners this question: "what are the reasons behind adding a second worship service?" When all was said and done, this was the answer: "some of us don't thing we're getting enough out of the morning service." I asked, "Will doing more of the same solve the problem? After all, attendance is pretty low at the second service."
I suggested there might be two alternatives open to us. One would be to reexamine the morning service and see if there were some way to have it meet the still unspecified need. Another would be to offer a series of small classes on Sunday night all about Christian living. We opted for the second solution.
For our first series we had three small groups; one led by me and two led by visiting leaders. Our average attendance over the six weeks of the experiment was 70. I'd say we had found a solution to whatever was missing on Sunday morning.
The question: "What problem am I trying to solve?" is a very important one. And typically it requires some "onion peeling," that is, some investigation that probes the easy answers. My experience tells me it almost always pays off. I've been thinking about this when I see institutions at work. Quick answers, such as, "more cops on the streets," or "a second worship service," probably aren't going to make any real difference. But quick answers are tantalizing because they give us quick relief. But quick relief rarely solves underlying problems or addresses underlying needs.
Peace,
Jerry+
Monday, October 19, 2009
Puritanism--Again
CANTON, N.C. (October 13, 2009)—The Amazing Grace Baptist Church in Canton, N.C. will celebrate Halloween by burning Bibles that aren’t the King James Version, as well as music and books and anything else Pastor Marc Grizzard says is a satanic influence.
Among the authors whose books Grizzard plans to burn are well known ministers Rick Warren and Billy Graham because he says they have occasionally used Bibles other than the King James Version, which is the sole biblical source he considers infallible.
According to the church’s Web site, members will also burn “Satan's music such as country, rap, rock, pop, heavy metal, western, soft and easy, southern gospel, contemporary Christian, jazz, soul (and) oldies.
This except came from the Salt Lake City newspaper which quoted the AP as its source along with the church's website. USA Today also reported that this church is, in fact, conducting the bonfire.
The Church's website is now shut down. When I tried to access it, I got a malware intrusion attempt, for what that is worth. However, this story showed up on other news sites too, so I think it's trustworthy.
Sad.
Peace,
Jerry+
Among the authors whose books Grizzard plans to burn are well known ministers Rick Warren and Billy Graham because he says they have occasionally used Bibles other than the King James Version, which is the sole biblical source he considers infallible.
According to the church’s Web site, members will also burn “Satan's music such as country, rap, rock, pop, heavy metal, western, soft and easy, southern gospel, contemporary Christian, jazz, soul (and) oldies.
This except came from the Salt Lake City newspaper which quoted the AP as its source along with the church's website. USA Today also reported that this church is, in fact, conducting the bonfire.
The Church's website is now shut down. When I tried to access it, I got a malware intrusion attempt, for what that is worth. However, this story showed up on other news sites too, so I think it's trustworthy.
Sad.
Peace,
Jerry+
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
William Tyndale
Yesterday was the feast day of William Tyndale, an Anglican priest, born in 1495. He's noteworthy for two reasons. First, soon after become a priest in 1521, he became obsessed with the notion of translating the Bible into English. This was not a popular idea. Christians were not allowed to read the Bible in any language other than Latin. Which, of course, meant most didn't read it at all. The typical parish church didn't possess a Bible in any language, and in those that did, any reading of it publicly was in Latin.
Tyndale strongly believed everyone had the right to read it and in an argument with another priest who opposed him, he said, "If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plow to know more of the Scriptures than thou dost." Earlier Wycliff had produced a handwritten translation based on the Latin Vulgate, but Tyndale worked from the much superior Greek and Hebrew manuscripts to produced his. His New Testament was printed in Germany where he was in exile, and was smuggled into England where it was received with great enthusiasm.
Tyndale's translation introduced new words and phrases into the English language which were subsequently used in the King James Version and continue to be used today. Examples include, Jehovah, Passover, scapegoat, and phrases such as "let there be light," "The powers that be," "My brother's keeper," "the salt of the earth," "The spirit is willing," and "Fight the good fight."
Tyndale was also a vocal critic of the Catholic Church. While he was distressed over many of the typical abuses of his time, he also taught, wrote about, and preached about a new concept: salvation as a gift of God. Much as Luther was also teaching, Tyndale asserted that no good works on a human's part would gain a person salvation. Salvation came by grace. It was this teaching that eventually resulted in his death.
While living in Belgium and working on his Old Testament translation, he was betrayed to the authorities by a person he had befriended. He was arrested, tried for heresy, and sentenced to die by fire. At his execution, in an act of mercy the executioner strangled him prior to lighting the fire. But Tyndale revived long enough to say, "May God change the King's heart."
Two years later, Henry VIII did have a change of heart. Mile Coverdale took Tyndale's work and did some revisions. The resulting Bible was published under someone else's name and it was ordered by the King that every parish church have a copy. On the first day a copy was available in England, people took turns reading it aloud all day long to hungry souls. As a result of Tyndale's dedication and persistence, our religious lives have forever been enriched.
Peace,
Jerry+
Tyndale strongly believed everyone had the right to read it and in an argument with another priest who opposed him, he said, "If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plow to know more of the Scriptures than thou dost." Earlier Wycliff had produced a handwritten translation based on the Latin Vulgate, but Tyndale worked from the much superior Greek and Hebrew manuscripts to produced his. His New Testament was printed in Germany where he was in exile, and was smuggled into England where it was received with great enthusiasm.
Tyndale's translation introduced new words and phrases into the English language which were subsequently used in the King James Version and continue to be used today. Examples include, Jehovah, Passover, scapegoat, and phrases such as "let there be light," "The powers that be," "My brother's keeper," "the salt of the earth," "The spirit is willing," and "Fight the good fight."
Tyndale was also a vocal critic of the Catholic Church. While he was distressed over many of the typical abuses of his time, he also taught, wrote about, and preached about a new concept: salvation as a gift of God. Much as Luther was also teaching, Tyndale asserted that no good works on a human's part would gain a person salvation. Salvation came by grace. It was this teaching that eventually resulted in his death.
While living in Belgium and working on his Old Testament translation, he was betrayed to the authorities by a person he had befriended. He was arrested, tried for heresy, and sentenced to die by fire. At his execution, in an act of mercy the executioner strangled him prior to lighting the fire. But Tyndale revived long enough to say, "May God change the King's heart."
Two years later, Henry VIII did have a change of heart. Mile Coverdale took Tyndale's work and did some revisions. The resulting Bible was published under someone else's name and it was ordered by the King that every parish church have a copy. On the first day a copy was available in England, people took turns reading it aloud all day long to hungry souls. As a result of Tyndale's dedication and persistence, our religious lives have forever been enriched.
Peace,
Jerry+
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Spice of Life
Variety, they say, is the spice of life.
When I began teaching my current class on The Early Church, I asked each participant his/her reason for taking the course. Prominent among the answers was a desire to know about the way in which early Christians thought, lived and worshipped. At least one student said he and a friend felt called to establish a Christian mission that was modelled after the New Testament Christian community. He hoped to discover in this class what that should be.
I understand the interest in knowing what the Church was like in the beginning. Worship is more meaningful to me when I'm reminded that some of the prayers we pray, many of the words of the Eucharist, and more have centuries of history behind them. The very form of the worship service and the form of the Eucharistic Prayer date from the first century. This is an important emotional connection for me.
As an amateur historian, I'm taken by how many times in the 2000 year history of the Church, various Christians have been on the quest the young man mentioned above is on. In the U.S. in particular, a "return" to the purity of the early Church has shaped many denominations and even created a few.
The bad news is: there is no single "early Church." There was a variety of organizational models, (that is, who was to lead the assembly?), a variety of forms for baptism, for the Eucharist, for belief systems and on and on. Just on the matter of what was used in the Eucharist, some used bread and wine, some bread, wine, water, some bread and fish, some bread, wine and olives, and some bread, wine, water, and milk and honey. Some early communities were led by the householder who hosted the gathering--meaning some women presided at the Eucharist. Some were led by a council of elders; some a council with a senior elder as overseer or president; some by those who had some charism, such as prophecy or healing.
In short, variety seemed to have been the order of the day for a couple of centuries. And you know what, each community's individual members seemed to have been nurtured, some fed well enough they were willing to die for the faith. So, what I've been thinking about is: what does that say about today's variety of beliefs and practices? I know what I've concluded. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry+
When I began teaching my current class on The Early Church, I asked each participant his/her reason for taking the course. Prominent among the answers was a desire to know about the way in which early Christians thought, lived and worshipped. At least one student said he and a friend felt called to establish a Christian mission that was modelled after the New Testament Christian community. He hoped to discover in this class what that should be.
I understand the interest in knowing what the Church was like in the beginning. Worship is more meaningful to me when I'm reminded that some of the prayers we pray, many of the words of the Eucharist, and more have centuries of history behind them. The very form of the worship service and the form of the Eucharistic Prayer date from the first century. This is an important emotional connection for me.
As an amateur historian, I'm taken by how many times in the 2000 year history of the Church, various Christians have been on the quest the young man mentioned above is on. In the U.S. in particular, a "return" to the purity of the early Church has shaped many denominations and even created a few.
The bad news is: there is no single "early Church." There was a variety of organizational models, (that is, who was to lead the assembly?), a variety of forms for baptism, for the Eucharist, for belief systems and on and on. Just on the matter of what was used in the Eucharist, some used bread and wine, some bread, wine, water, some bread and fish, some bread, wine and olives, and some bread, wine, water, and milk and honey. Some early communities were led by the householder who hosted the gathering--meaning some women presided at the Eucharist. Some were led by a council of elders; some a council with a senior elder as overseer or president; some by those who had some charism, such as prophecy or healing.
In short, variety seemed to have been the order of the day for a couple of centuries. And you know what, each community's individual members seemed to have been nurtured, some fed well enough they were willing to die for the faith. So, what I've been thinking about is: what does that say about today's variety of beliefs and practices? I know what I've concluded. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry+
Thursday, September 24, 2009
A Simpler Time
Sorry about the delay between posts. Got distracted by more work than a retired guy should be doing.
As both my readers know, a few months ago I totaled my car and had to buy another. The new car has satellite radio, a trial anyway. One of the stations is called Classic Radio. It rebroadcasts old radio shows.
I was thrilled to discover it. I actually own a number of tapes of some old radio shows as well as a book titled The Encyclopedia of Old Time Radio. Born in 1940, I grew up listening to radio. My family didn't get a TV until I was 12, so the "theater of the mind" was a regular companion for me. I confess to a lot of nostalgia for the time.
Lately, when I have a trip of at least 15 minutes I tune into an old show. I've listened to a lot of mysteries, complete with dramatic (or over dramatic) organ music to create tension. Interestingly, the stories still hold up, though the settings are antique. Cars shifting gears, phones being dialed, odd sounding police sirens. Still, the stories work--perhaps a little melodramatically, but they still work.
Lately I've been listening to a lot of comedies. They hold up as well, too. Not necessarily knee-slapping funny, but I do find myself smiling a lot, and even laughing out loud a little. Fibber McGee and Molly, the Great Gildersleeve, Lum and Abner, Jack Benny--these were the programs of my youth. They are a bit antiquated too, but still amusing. Now, here's why I bring this up: they are all clean. Now foul language, no sexual innuendo, no outright sexual situations, no mean-spirited humor. Just funny stuff. Ordinary people doing and saying, what were for the times, ordinary things in a funny setting.
As I listen and remember all the happy hours of my childhood listening to Luigi and Judy Canova, and Bob Hope, I wonder what went wrong. When did funny always have to have a blue tint. The other night I watched the season opener of four comedies. In three of them, people slept together, even those who had just met or who were committing adultery. Did we really need that to make it funny. Plus one of the new series is based on the same premise as the movie Knocked Up. Boy and girl hook up for a one-nighter and she gets pregnant. Great. This is what we need more of on TV to normalize it even more.
I'm not a prude, but like the guy in the funny little commercial about putting the No in Innovation, I've got to ask, "Have we gone too far?" That's what I've been thinking lately. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry+
As both my readers know, a few months ago I totaled my car and had to buy another. The new car has satellite radio, a trial anyway. One of the stations is called Classic Radio. It rebroadcasts old radio shows.
I was thrilled to discover it. I actually own a number of tapes of some old radio shows as well as a book titled The Encyclopedia of Old Time Radio. Born in 1940, I grew up listening to radio. My family didn't get a TV until I was 12, so the "theater of the mind" was a regular companion for me. I confess to a lot of nostalgia for the time.
Lately, when I have a trip of at least 15 minutes I tune into an old show. I've listened to a lot of mysteries, complete with dramatic (or over dramatic) organ music to create tension. Interestingly, the stories still hold up, though the settings are antique. Cars shifting gears, phones being dialed, odd sounding police sirens. Still, the stories work--perhaps a little melodramatically, but they still work.
Lately I've been listening to a lot of comedies. They hold up as well, too. Not necessarily knee-slapping funny, but I do find myself smiling a lot, and even laughing out loud a little. Fibber McGee and Molly, the Great Gildersleeve, Lum and Abner, Jack Benny--these were the programs of my youth. They are a bit antiquated too, but still amusing. Now, here's why I bring this up: they are all clean. Now foul language, no sexual innuendo, no outright sexual situations, no mean-spirited humor. Just funny stuff. Ordinary people doing and saying, what were for the times, ordinary things in a funny setting.
As I listen and remember all the happy hours of my childhood listening to Luigi and Judy Canova, and Bob Hope, I wonder what went wrong. When did funny always have to have a blue tint. The other night I watched the season opener of four comedies. In three of them, people slept together, even those who had just met or who were committing adultery. Did we really need that to make it funny. Plus one of the new series is based on the same premise as the movie Knocked Up. Boy and girl hook up for a one-nighter and she gets pregnant. Great. This is what we need more of on TV to normalize it even more.
I'm not a prude, but like the guy in the funny little commercial about putting the No in Innovation, I've got to ask, "Have we gone too far?" That's what I've been thinking lately. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry+
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Kingdom
I've just completed reading The Gospel of Mark by Marcus Borg. The book is one in a series of books called Conversations With Scripture created by The Anglican Association of Biblical Scholars. The book comes with a built in study guide for individual or group use. I recommend it.
But this isn't a review of the book. I'm doing that later for someone else. Borg reminded me that if we take this Gospel seriously we have to conclude that Jesus was calling people to follow him. More than that, his calls to follow him seem really to be about following him to his inevitable conclusion: entering Jerusalem and all that represented. Borg reminds us that in the early decades after Jesus', his followers were even described as followers of the Way.
When Jesus enters Jerusalem, he does so on the same day that Pilate enters, but probably through a different gate. Pilate would have been coming because Jerusalem needed additional troops during Passover when the population likely tripled to something like 150,000 to 200,000 and feeling against the Roman oppressors ran high and hot.
Pilate makes a grand entrance with his troops to establish again the power of Rome over this city and the world. Jesus makes a grand entrance riding on a donkey colt, but wildly celebrated by the people. Why? At some level they understood his arrival as an announcement about the beginning of the end of Roman occupation.
Jesus had been preaching all along about the coming Kingdom, calling people to prepare for that Kingdom. It was a Kingdom not like Rome's, but a Kingdom brought in by God in order to restore justice and peace and to relieve the suffering of the poor--most people at that time.
Along the way, Christians have watered down Jesus' message and/or replaced it with believing the right things. But it would seem that Mark was saying what needed to be believed was the Jesus was God's son and was the embodiment of God's action in the world. God will bring the Kingdom in God's own time, and in the meanwhile, because we believe who Jesus is, we will act as if the Kingdom is here now. We will see that justice is done--that is, that oppressive and dysfunctional systems are replaced. We will attend to the poor while we change the systems that keep them poor. Jesus had little apparent concern, according to Mark, about our "going to heaven." The focus seems to need to be here and now.
As I teach the history of the Church in the first few centuries after Jesus, I can tell you that we went off the track early and radically. Now's the time to fix that.
Peace,
Jerry+
But this isn't a review of the book. I'm doing that later for someone else. Borg reminded me that if we take this Gospel seriously we have to conclude that Jesus was calling people to follow him. More than that, his calls to follow him seem really to be about following him to his inevitable conclusion: entering Jerusalem and all that represented. Borg reminds us that in the early decades after Jesus', his followers were even described as followers of the Way.
When Jesus enters Jerusalem, he does so on the same day that Pilate enters, but probably through a different gate. Pilate would have been coming because Jerusalem needed additional troops during Passover when the population likely tripled to something like 150,000 to 200,000 and feeling against the Roman oppressors ran high and hot.
Pilate makes a grand entrance with his troops to establish again the power of Rome over this city and the world. Jesus makes a grand entrance riding on a donkey colt, but wildly celebrated by the people. Why? At some level they understood his arrival as an announcement about the beginning of the end of Roman occupation.
Jesus had been preaching all along about the coming Kingdom, calling people to prepare for that Kingdom. It was a Kingdom not like Rome's, but a Kingdom brought in by God in order to restore justice and peace and to relieve the suffering of the poor--most people at that time.
Along the way, Christians have watered down Jesus' message and/or replaced it with believing the right things. But it would seem that Mark was saying what needed to be believed was the Jesus was God's son and was the embodiment of God's action in the world. God will bring the Kingdom in God's own time, and in the meanwhile, because we believe who Jesus is, we will act as if the Kingdom is here now. We will see that justice is done--that is, that oppressive and dysfunctional systems are replaced. We will attend to the poor while we change the systems that keep them poor. Jesus had little apparent concern, according to Mark, about our "going to heaven." The focus seems to need to be here and now.
As I teach the history of the Church in the first few centuries after Jesus, I can tell you that we went off the track early and radically. Now's the time to fix that.
Peace,
Jerry+
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Called
When I was a young man, still a teenager in fact, I had an experience which I interpreted as a "call to preach." In my religious tradition, to be "called to preach" meant, of course, much more than that. It usually meant "called to ordained ministry" and ordained ministry meant not only preaching, but all the usual tasks and responsibilities of being a clergyperson. But that wasn't our language nor the language of much of the Church.
In the tradition of which I am a part now, The Episcopal Church, one is "called to the priesthood" or "called to the diaconate." Both mean "called to ordained ministry," though the ministries are usually different. But in both traditions, being "called" means having a higher authority declare that you are somehow "fit" to be an ordained leader, and then having a bishop and others lay hands on you to signify that. Or not.
That is to say, you can believe you are called by God to a particular ordained ministry and have others decide you're not. Exactly how they decide is, of course, a subjective process full of mystery. I am very aware of people being "turned down," that is, having the legitimacy of their call questioned for, say being overweight or being abrupt. Now the fact is that the ordained ranks are peppered with fat people and abrupt people, and for that matter fat, abrupt people. Yet the fat, abrupt and FaA people still manage to be at least adequate ministers--sometime much more than adequate. And one wonders: did they become F, A, and/or FaA only after ordination?
Today, a woman shared with me that her bishop had recently said to her something to the effect, "Don't ruin your spirituality and ministry by seeking ordination." Was he really giving her the low down on what happens to many who go through the process and become ordained, or was he just trying to discourage one more potential candidate for ordination from clogging the system? In either case, what of her call? What must she do now? Be content with a lay ministry--an important lay ministry? But is she being really faithful if she does?
It's all a mystery to me.
Peace,
Jerry+
In the tradition of which I am a part now, The Episcopal Church, one is "called to the priesthood" or "called to the diaconate." Both mean "called to ordained ministry," though the ministries are usually different. But in both traditions, being "called" means having a higher authority declare that you are somehow "fit" to be an ordained leader, and then having a bishop and others lay hands on you to signify that. Or not.
That is to say, you can believe you are called by God to a particular ordained ministry and have others decide you're not. Exactly how they decide is, of course, a subjective process full of mystery. I am very aware of people being "turned down," that is, having the legitimacy of their call questioned for, say being overweight or being abrupt. Now the fact is that the ordained ranks are peppered with fat people and abrupt people, and for that matter fat, abrupt people. Yet the fat, abrupt and FaA people still manage to be at least adequate ministers--sometime much more than adequate. And one wonders: did they become F, A, and/or FaA only after ordination?
Today, a woman shared with me that her bishop had recently said to her something to the effect, "Don't ruin your spirituality and ministry by seeking ordination." Was he really giving her the low down on what happens to many who go through the process and become ordained, or was he just trying to discourage one more potential candidate for ordination from clogging the system? In either case, what of her call? What must she do now? Be content with a lay ministry--an important lay ministry? But is she being really faithful if she does?
It's all a mystery to me.
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Rules
This coming Sunday, we move to Mark's Gospel. And right off the bat, Jesus is confronted by the religious leaders because he and his disciples are breaking the religious purity laws--specifically, they didn't ritually wash their hands before they ate. I'm sure this sounds a bit picky to moderns, but there is something important to remember: the Law was in place, all 616 parts, to serve as a means of grace, a way to draw people closer to their God. That Jesus seems to void that does seem to be pretty drastic and dramatic.
What Jesus does is he uses the opportunity to point out that the emphasis needs to shift. It's not what goes into a person that defiles, he says, it's what comes out.
For the gentle reader or two I have, this is no big surprise. But there are many Christians who insist that following rules is really at the heart of being a believer. The rules are just a bit different. A rule might be that one understand the Scriptures to be the literal word of God, without error of any kind. Or it might be that husbands are to rule over their wives--though that tends to be dressed up in less straightforward language these days. Perhaps the rule is about who can receive Holy Communion or who can be married. Suffice it to say, there are lots and lots of them.
The Epistle reading from James picks up on this same theme by insisting that we be doers of the word of God and not just hearers. And he goes on to illustrate the kinds of behavior that would demonstrate doing instead of just hearing: controlling anger, showing compassion and more.
Fundamentally, what makes a person acceptable isn't rule keeping, but the grace of God freely given to all. And perhaps, since we know very well we really don't deserve it ourselves, we could decide to give that grace to others who don't deserve it either. That's what I've been thinking. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry
What Jesus does is he uses the opportunity to point out that the emphasis needs to shift. It's not what goes into a person that defiles, he says, it's what comes out.
For the gentle reader or two I have, this is no big surprise. But there are many Christians who insist that following rules is really at the heart of being a believer. The rules are just a bit different. A rule might be that one understand the Scriptures to be the literal word of God, without error of any kind. Or it might be that husbands are to rule over their wives--though that tends to be dressed up in less straightforward language these days. Perhaps the rule is about who can receive Holy Communion or who can be married. Suffice it to say, there are lots and lots of them.
The Epistle reading from James picks up on this same theme by insisting that we be doers of the word of God and not just hearers. And he goes on to illustrate the kinds of behavior that would demonstrate doing instead of just hearing: controlling anger, showing compassion and more.
Fundamentally, what makes a person acceptable isn't rule keeping, but the grace of God freely given to all. And perhaps, since we know very well we really don't deserve it ourselves, we could decide to give that grace to others who don't deserve it either. That's what I've been thinking. What about you?
Peace,
Jerry
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Gone Too Far
The Gospel for this past Sunday was the fifth in a series about Jesus as bread of life. In this reading, Jesus shocks some good Jews and God-fearers in the synagogue by proclaiming that unless one eats his flesh and drinks his blood, that one cannot have eternal life.
This is a scandalous saying on two fronts. First, he's addressing people who have a strict dietary rule against eating human flesh and second, a law against drinking the blood of any living thing. Jesus is, in effect, asking them to overthrow all they have believed in, that is, Torah, and follow him.
Their response is understandable, "This saying is too hard." John then goes on to say that some of Jesus' disciples leave and follow him no more. Notice, it is some of those who have been following him, who have been gladly hearing what he has to say, who have perhaps benefited from his healings and feeding who leave. It's not unbelievers; it's those who have believed in him. But finally, he has gone too far.
I wonder if sometimes when we take seriously Jesus' teachings and are faced with bringing justice to a world full of injustice, of caring for the poor--some of whom seem to neither have interest in caring for themselves nor appreciation for our caring for them--if we don't agree with those who left: Jesus has gone too far. When he expects us to love the unlovable, maybe we find it hard to do because Jesus has gone too far. When he expects us to forgive those who do harm to us, maybe we can't because Jesus has just gone too far. What other reasons can we find for our general unwillingness to graciously accept those who believe differently from us? Loving them would just be going too far.
Wounded, when many leave, Jesus turns to the Twelve and asks if they will also leave. And Peter, God bless him, says, "To whom would we go? You have the words of eternal life." Yes, and staying will cost these men dearly. Maybe that's another reason our ardor is not equal to theirs. That, or perhaps we don't really think Jesus has the words of eternal life. Not sure. What do you think?
Peace,
Jerry+
This is a scandalous saying on two fronts. First, he's addressing people who have a strict dietary rule against eating human flesh and second, a law against drinking the blood of any living thing. Jesus is, in effect, asking them to overthrow all they have believed in, that is, Torah, and follow him.
Their response is understandable, "This saying is too hard." John then goes on to say that some of Jesus' disciples leave and follow him no more. Notice, it is some of those who have been following him, who have been gladly hearing what he has to say, who have perhaps benefited from his healings and feeding who leave. It's not unbelievers; it's those who have believed in him. But finally, he has gone too far.
I wonder if sometimes when we take seriously Jesus' teachings and are faced with bringing justice to a world full of injustice, of caring for the poor--some of whom seem to neither have interest in caring for themselves nor appreciation for our caring for them--if we don't agree with those who left: Jesus has gone too far. When he expects us to love the unlovable, maybe we find it hard to do because Jesus has gone too far. When he expects us to forgive those who do harm to us, maybe we can't because Jesus has just gone too far. What other reasons can we find for our general unwillingness to graciously accept those who believe differently from us? Loving them would just be going too far.
Wounded, when many leave, Jesus turns to the Twelve and asks if they will also leave. And Peter, God bless him, says, "To whom would we go? You have the words of eternal life." Yes, and staying will cost these men dearly. Maybe that's another reason our ardor is not equal to theirs. That, or perhaps we don't really think Jesus has the words of eternal life. Not sure. What do you think?
Peace,
Jerry+
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Too Easy
Shooting fish in a barrel. That's the expression for taking a shot at something that you just can't miss, so I almost feel guilty taking my shots with this blog. But, I just need to say something about something.
Coach Pitino. You probably know the story. Six years ago he had sex with a stranger in a bar, got her pregnant and paid for an abortion. The public would never have known except she decided to try to extort money from him. This is stupid on so many levels, I won't say more about it specifically. Let's move on to the next item.
Last week the West Memphis police saw two men standing in the middle of the street, apparently drinking. When the cop rolled up, one of the men ditched what he had into a bush and did the rabbit trick. The cop pursued and caught him. No big deal so far. But the man's mother happens to roll up on the scene and, since the cop is white and the perp is not, she begins to curse calling him a "white m.....f.....," among other things and then says, "Do you know who I am? I'm a former West Memphis Council Member." Well we're allowed to say stupid things at moments such as those, I guess. But as the cop reaches into her car, since apparently she won't step out, she drives off with him hanging on. He quickly let go and wasn't serious hurt. She, however got charged.
Now the thing is, had her son done nothing, the cop would probably have told him to get out of the street and take his drinking inside. End of episode. But noooooo.
I could add to this list several more very public figures who have done similar stupid things recently and had the light of the media shined in their faces. You know who they are. And what are we doing? Shaking our heads and thinking how stupid they are. But they are more than stupid. In each case there is a moral and/or ethic issue that should outrage us and would have outraged our grandparents, maybe even our parents.
Awakening way too early the other day, I entertained myself with TV. There's not much on at that time, so I ended up watching a couple of episodes of "Cheaters." It's a show in which an investigator is hired by a spouse or significant other to check on the fidelity of his or her partner. Of course they are caught being unfaithful. And you know what? They don't care. There is no remorse, no apparent guilt, no repentance, no asking for forgiveness. Instead, they show outrage at being followed and/or blame their partner for their infidelity.
I could go on, but the bottom line for this blog is this: "What in God's name has happened to our standard of morality in this country?" We freak out when we hear some Muslim woman being whipped because she showed her legs or talked to the wrong man. And we should. But where's our outrage at the stuff going on right here that's far worse?
This is what I've been thinking about the last couple of days. Any thoughts?
Peace,
Jerry+
Coach Pitino. You probably know the story. Six years ago he had sex with a stranger in a bar, got her pregnant and paid for an abortion. The public would never have known except she decided to try to extort money from him. This is stupid on so many levels, I won't say more about it specifically. Let's move on to the next item.
Last week the West Memphis police saw two men standing in the middle of the street, apparently drinking. When the cop rolled up, one of the men ditched what he had into a bush and did the rabbit trick. The cop pursued and caught him. No big deal so far. But the man's mother happens to roll up on the scene and, since the cop is white and the perp is not, she begins to curse calling him a "white m.....f.....," among other things and then says, "Do you know who I am? I'm a former West Memphis Council Member." Well we're allowed to say stupid things at moments such as those, I guess. But as the cop reaches into her car, since apparently she won't step out, she drives off with him hanging on. He quickly let go and wasn't serious hurt. She, however got charged.
Now the thing is, had her son done nothing, the cop would probably have told him to get out of the street and take his drinking inside. End of episode. But noooooo.
I could add to this list several more very public figures who have done similar stupid things recently and had the light of the media shined in their faces. You know who they are. And what are we doing? Shaking our heads and thinking how stupid they are. But they are more than stupid. In each case there is a moral and/or ethic issue that should outrage us and would have outraged our grandparents, maybe even our parents.
Awakening way too early the other day, I entertained myself with TV. There's not much on at that time, so I ended up watching a couple of episodes of "Cheaters." It's a show in which an investigator is hired by a spouse or significant other to check on the fidelity of his or her partner. Of course they are caught being unfaithful. And you know what? They don't care. There is no remorse, no apparent guilt, no repentance, no asking for forgiveness. Instead, they show outrage at being followed and/or blame their partner for their infidelity.
I could go on, but the bottom line for this blog is this: "What in God's name has happened to our standard of morality in this country?" We freak out when we hear some Muslim woman being whipped because she showed her legs or talked to the wrong man. And we should. But where's our outrage at the stuff going on right here that's far worse?
This is what I've been thinking about the last couple of days. Any thoughts?
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Leading Worship
Last Saturday, along with the Dean of the Cathedral of the Diocese, I had the pleasure and responsibility of training Eucharistic Ministers and Lectors for the Diocese.
That alone is a bit surreal since I'm United Methodist. I was introduced as one who "knows more about this than most Anglicans." I doubt it, but I do know a lot because for seven years I was responsible for selecting, training, scheduling and overseeing 80 to 100 of these in the Episcopal Church where I was on staff as one of the clergy--something else that's surreal.
I took it very seriously and I took the job Saturday seriously as well. Why? Eucharist Ministers in the Episcopal Church typically administer the chalice in the service of Holy Communion and Lectors read the lessons. These are incredibly important tasks for those who are leading worship. In two different ways, these folks are mediating the grace of God to others, one by reading God's word, the other by administering a sacrament.
Without mentioning all the things I talked about, I want to mention one. I reminded those who serve that there is not a test that makes one eligible for hearing the Word or for receiving the cup. What each person believes is not at issue. How each person lived the previous week is not at issue. We have agreed as Christians to have our differences but to gather for worship without having some litmus test administered. We have agreed to leave to God whether or not someone is worthy to come and worship in these ways, and by the way, we believe God has already acted on who is invited.
One of the principles behind this position is that before God, we are all loved and accepted. And, it is hoped, by acting this way in worship, we will be able to actually love and accept those who are, in fact, different from us. Now if we could only pull that off.
Peace,
Jerry+
That alone is a bit surreal since I'm United Methodist. I was introduced as one who "knows more about this than most Anglicans." I doubt it, but I do know a lot because for seven years I was responsible for selecting, training, scheduling and overseeing 80 to 100 of these in the Episcopal Church where I was on staff as one of the clergy--something else that's surreal.
I took it very seriously and I took the job Saturday seriously as well. Why? Eucharist Ministers in the Episcopal Church typically administer the chalice in the service of Holy Communion and Lectors read the lessons. These are incredibly important tasks for those who are leading worship. In two different ways, these folks are mediating the grace of God to others, one by reading God's word, the other by administering a sacrament.
Without mentioning all the things I talked about, I want to mention one. I reminded those who serve that there is not a test that makes one eligible for hearing the Word or for receiving the cup. What each person believes is not at issue. How each person lived the previous week is not at issue. We have agreed as Christians to have our differences but to gather for worship without having some litmus test administered. We have agreed to leave to God whether or not someone is worthy to come and worship in these ways, and by the way, we believe God has already acted on who is invited.
One of the principles behind this position is that before God, we are all loved and accepted. And, it is hoped, by acting this way in worship, we will be able to actually love and accept those who are, in fact, different from us. Now if we could only pull that off.
Peace,
Jerry+
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Bread from Heaven
"He rained down manna upon them to eat
and gave them grain from heaven.
So mortals ate the bread of angels;
he provided for them food enough."
Psalm 78 24-25
Sunday we have the follow up story to feeding the 5000. It's the next day and when the people awake, they discover Jesus has left the vicinity. After puzzling over it, they determine he's gone to Capernaum and take off to find him.
Guess what they want? Yep. More bread. Jesus seems clearly annoyed. To paraphrase John's report of Jesus' remarks, "I'm kind of disappointed. I would hope you'd come for something more substantial--something more substantial than a good dinner and show." His comment goes right over their head. "Give us a sign." They go on to say, "Moses gave our ancestors manna. What have you got?"
Like many of us, they mistake the hole inside for hunger--hunger for food or for "stuff." We are a nation of obese people. Wonder why? We are a nation hungry for the latest--the latest gadget, the latest clothes, the latest piece of Web tech. Wonder why? Well for one thing, these are great distractions from having to think, to consider, to process, to reflect, to wonder. And that helps us avoid the pain of realization that food and this kind of stuff will never fill the hole.
We aren't likely to be eating the bread of angels. Too bad.
Peace,
Jerry+
and gave them grain from heaven.
So mortals ate the bread of angels;
he provided for them food enough."
Psalm 78 24-25
Sunday we have the follow up story to feeding the 5000. It's the next day and when the people awake, they discover Jesus has left the vicinity. After puzzling over it, they determine he's gone to Capernaum and take off to find him.
Guess what they want? Yep. More bread. Jesus seems clearly annoyed. To paraphrase John's report of Jesus' remarks, "I'm kind of disappointed. I would hope you'd come for something more substantial--something more substantial than a good dinner and show." His comment goes right over their head. "Give us a sign." They go on to say, "Moses gave our ancestors manna. What have you got?"
Like many of us, they mistake the hole inside for hunger--hunger for food or for "stuff." We are a nation of obese people. Wonder why? We are a nation hungry for the latest--the latest gadget, the latest clothes, the latest piece of Web tech. Wonder why? Well for one thing, these are great distractions from having to think, to consider, to process, to reflect, to wonder. And that helps us avoid the pain of realization that food and this kind of stuff will never fill the hole.
We aren't likely to be eating the bread of angels. Too bad.
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Chasing Jesus
Sunday's Gospel reading tells how Jesus and his disciples, exhausted from their work, make their way across the lake for a little respite. But the people skirt the lake and show up on the other side. Plus along the way, they gather others from villages and farms who are waiting for him when the boat lands. When he arrives, Mark says, Jesus "looked on them with compassion." He not only resumed his teaching, but he healed all those who were brought to him.
I wondered aloud today in my sermon at the Parkview why people don't still chase Jesus. Researchers tell us that not only are Christians diminishing in raw numbers in this country, but they aren't keeping up with the percentage growth of the country either. Attendance is down across the board. Even the Southern Baptist churches, traditionally growing every year, report the last two years a decline in professions of faith. What's going on?
Plenty. We're all busy. We're a nation of two career families or two job singles. We have more entertainment options than we've ever had in history. Not only can we watch dozens of channels of TV, we can Tweet, and Facebook and play video games and, well you know. But I don't think this is the primary reason. Let me add this disclaimer: this is strictly an opinion based on no research. I think the problem is Christians.
If we are the representatives of Jesus in our contemporary world, for the most part, we're doing a crummy job. We can't get along with each other. Heck, we can't even get along within our own denominations or parishes. Splits over beliefs are routine. Just not liking the priest or minister is reason enough to leave a parish or the church all together. While we give to our local churches, the amount that passes through to help the poor and lost is often less than 10% with the bulk going for institutional costs like utilities and salaries.
In short, we aren't looking with compassion at very many people. We do little or nothing to differentiate ourselves from those who make no pretense at being Christian. So why would anybody "chase Jesus" if we're the model for him in this world?
Guess I sound a little gloomy today. Maybe it's because according to the best researchers, within 15 years in this country, fewer than half the people will even claim Christianity as their faith and by 2050, the dominant faith in the U.S. will be Islam.
Peace?
Jerry+
I wondered aloud today in my sermon at the Parkview why people don't still chase Jesus. Researchers tell us that not only are Christians diminishing in raw numbers in this country, but they aren't keeping up with the percentage growth of the country either. Attendance is down across the board. Even the Southern Baptist churches, traditionally growing every year, report the last two years a decline in professions of faith. What's going on?
Plenty. We're all busy. We're a nation of two career families or two job singles. We have more entertainment options than we've ever had in history. Not only can we watch dozens of channels of TV, we can Tweet, and Facebook and play video games and, well you know. But I don't think this is the primary reason. Let me add this disclaimer: this is strictly an opinion based on no research. I think the problem is Christians.
If we are the representatives of Jesus in our contemporary world, for the most part, we're doing a crummy job. We can't get along with each other. Heck, we can't even get along within our own denominations or parishes. Splits over beliefs are routine. Just not liking the priest or minister is reason enough to leave a parish or the church all together. While we give to our local churches, the amount that passes through to help the poor and lost is often less than 10% with the bulk going for institutional costs like utilities and salaries.
In short, we aren't looking with compassion at very many people. We do little or nothing to differentiate ourselves from those who make no pretense at being Christian. So why would anybody "chase Jesus" if we're the model for him in this world?
Guess I sound a little gloomy today. Maybe it's because according to the best researchers, within 15 years in this country, fewer than half the people will even claim Christianity as their faith and by 2050, the dominant faith in the U.S. will be Islam.
Peace?
Jerry+
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Losing Your Head
I was very distracted at worship Sunday. The lessons didn't help, especially the beheading of John the Baptizer. But in the final analysis, it wasn't anything at church that was the cause of my lack of focus. It was disruption at home.
I'm not an order freak, though I do like things in their place--principally so I can find them easily. Dirt and dust don't bother me too much, especially now that I'm the "housekeeper." But things in disarray and clutter bug me a lot. And right now, there is a fair amount of disarray. We're redoing a bedroom/playroom and I'm building shelves in my closet.
The redoing has required removal of the furniture. So first I attempted to sell it through the neighborhood newsletter. Got rid of one piece. I moved one piece out myself to refinish it for my closet and then decided to just build shelves. Finally, called the Salvation Army truck. But each time something was moved, a bunch of other stuff had to be moved so it could be wrangled out of the room, and then through the small den and out the door.
With these projects humming, I was also trying to continue my outdoor projects, prepare notes for teaching a new course at the Seminary in the fall and more and more. I felt overwhelmed, and I noticed, under appreciated.
This was the mindset I took to church. I confess I prayed for peace both for me and for Carol who had a bad experience at work that threw her into a tailspin for days. But, as I said, I wasn't very focused on worship so little wonder the peace seemed to elude me. Only later did the story of John losing his head creep into my world.
John's in jail for ticking off the higher ups. He's worried that Jesus may not be who he thought he was--even sends some followers to check up. And then, John loses his head. Literally. "Jeez," I thought, "John really had it bad. And me? Just crap that will ultimately be taken care of, go away, or won't matter."
Peace comes in funny ways.
Jerry+
I'm not an order freak, though I do like things in their place--principally so I can find them easily. Dirt and dust don't bother me too much, especially now that I'm the "housekeeper." But things in disarray and clutter bug me a lot. And right now, there is a fair amount of disarray. We're redoing a bedroom/playroom and I'm building shelves in my closet.
The redoing has required removal of the furniture. So first I attempted to sell it through the neighborhood newsletter. Got rid of one piece. I moved one piece out myself to refinish it for my closet and then decided to just build shelves. Finally, called the Salvation Army truck. But each time something was moved, a bunch of other stuff had to be moved so it could be wrangled out of the room, and then through the small den and out the door.
With these projects humming, I was also trying to continue my outdoor projects, prepare notes for teaching a new course at the Seminary in the fall and more and more. I felt overwhelmed, and I noticed, under appreciated.
This was the mindset I took to church. I confess I prayed for peace both for me and for Carol who had a bad experience at work that threw her into a tailspin for days. But, as I said, I wasn't very focused on worship so little wonder the peace seemed to elude me. Only later did the story of John losing his head creep into my world.
John's in jail for ticking off the higher ups. He's worried that Jesus may not be who he thought he was--even sends some followers to check up. And then, John loses his head. Literally. "Jeez," I thought, "John really had it bad. And me? Just crap that will ultimately be taken care of, go away, or won't matter."
Peace comes in funny ways.
Jerry+
Monday, July 6, 2009
Connection
Last night my wife and I attended the touring production of Wicked. Weird, but fun story of the Wicked Witch of the West, Glenda, the Good Witch, and how the Tin Man and Scarecrow came to be. Wildly popular show everwhere. When it finishes its run here, 57,000 people will have seen it.
All this is to set up what I observed before, at intermission, and immediately after the show. Cell phones flashing on! By the dozens! People were either checking email, twittering, checking calls or something similar. They weren't talking to the people around them. In fact, in more than one case, people who were sitting together were each on their phone, punching buttons, as it were, with single-minded intent.
I carry a cell phone. I've had one since the days of the "brick." I had it with me last night. Turned off. I turned it on when we got in the car. I find it to be very useful. Recently when I had my wreck, I used my cell to call for help. I have nothing against cell phones.
But, what I wonder about is the motivation behind the umbilical attachment to them. Back in the 70s I was on the road a lot and I had a CB radio. It was the fad in those days. Discussing it with a colleague, I opined that it was the equivalent to the old front porch on which people sat and said "howdy" and more to those that walked down the sidewalk in front of their houses. I wonder if there is a built in longing for connection that prompts Facebook, MySpace, Twitter and more? Is the electronic connection the best we can do these days?
Again, I'm not against electronic connection. I use email to stay in touch with friends, especially those far away and, obviously, I blog. My question is about what seems to be an obsession with the devices, even to the exclusion of interacting with those around you. And I guess at a deeper level, I wonder what hole all this connection is trying to fill?
Of course, I can't help thinking theologically about it. Wonder what you think? How about leaving a comment to let me know?
Peace,
Jerry+
All this is to set up what I observed before, at intermission, and immediately after the show. Cell phones flashing on! By the dozens! People were either checking email, twittering, checking calls or something similar. They weren't talking to the people around them. In fact, in more than one case, people who were sitting together were each on their phone, punching buttons, as it were, with single-minded intent.
I carry a cell phone. I've had one since the days of the "brick." I had it with me last night. Turned off. I turned it on when we got in the car. I find it to be very useful. Recently when I had my wreck, I used my cell to call for help. I have nothing against cell phones.
But, what I wonder about is the motivation behind the umbilical attachment to them. Back in the 70s I was on the road a lot and I had a CB radio. It was the fad in those days. Discussing it with a colleague, I opined that it was the equivalent to the old front porch on which people sat and said "howdy" and more to those that walked down the sidewalk in front of their houses. I wonder if there is a built in longing for connection that prompts Facebook, MySpace, Twitter and more? Is the electronic connection the best we can do these days?
Again, I'm not against electronic connection. I use email to stay in touch with friends, especially those far away and, obviously, I blog. My question is about what seems to be an obsession with the devices, even to the exclusion of interacting with those around you. And I guess at a deeper level, I wonder what hole all this connection is trying to fill?
Of course, I can't help thinking theologically about it. Wonder what you think? How about leaving a comment to let me know?
Peace,
Jerry+
Monday, June 29, 2009
Red Letter Day
On liturgical calendars, feast days of saints and martyrs are usually marked in red. If there is an Eucharist that day, the stole color is red, as are any hangings. Today is one of those days. June 29 is the Feast Day of Sts. Peter and Paul, commemorating their martyrdom in Rome in the first century.
But today is red letter for a personal reason as well. Forty years ago today, I was ordained an Elder in the United Methodist Church. The memory is vivid and fresh after all this time. While UM clergy are usually ordained as a group each year during the Annual Conference--the yearly meeting of clergy and laity of a given geographical area--the bishop who was in charge at that time of the Memphis Conference wanted to try something different. Bishop Finger was his name and he wanted to ordain people in the local church in from which they had made the decision to enter the ministry or their home church if that was more special to them. So I was ordained by myself at Grace Church in Memphis.
At the time hands were laid on me to ordain me, the Bishop was joined by a United Methodist clergyman, Tom Wilson, and two of my seminary professors: Joe Ben Irby, a Cumberland Presbyterian, and Richard Wolf, an Evangelical Lutheran. Both had taught me Church History. Joe Ben first interested me in the field and Dr. Wolf was my major professor for my M.Div and doctoral work.
About half these forty years were spent in some kind of parish or campus ministry. The other half I was in private practice as a therapist, but that work was shaped by my call. And simultaneously with a good bit of that time, I was an adjunct professor at a seminary. Plus, Sundays often found me teaching in the Christian Ed program of various parishes around town.
I haven't always felt as if I fit in very well in the Church as institution. In fact, I can honestly put it more strongly--I don't think I fit in very well. For one thing, I've never felt particularly as pious as my clergy peers seem to be (I guess pious is the right word), and hence have often been described as "not your usual minister." For another, I've always felt as if the Church as institution functions largely in an irrational way and that bugs me no end. For example, the UMC still moves clergy around as it did during the frontier days when it was a necessity while now it is a huge inconvenience for the clergy, their families and often their parishes. Additionally, the UMC makes these moves in less than rational ways, seldom taking into account the actual gifts of a clergyperson or the actual needs of a parish. That always frustrated me.
On top of all that, those who know me well know that first in 1983 and then again in 2002, I tried to become an Episcopal priest where I feel much more at home. And both times was eventually turned down after promising beginnings. This is a pain I still feel from time to time.
But even with all this said, I have no serious regrets about the decision that started the process toward that special Sunday forty years ago. I felt the Spirit enter my life and work under the hands of those holy men and I continue to feel the Spirit's presence in my life and work in a unique way. It has always been a mystery to me as to why God called me, but I'm thankful to have been called.
Peace,
Jerry+
But today is red letter for a personal reason as well. Forty years ago today, I was ordained an Elder in the United Methodist Church. The memory is vivid and fresh after all this time. While UM clergy are usually ordained as a group each year during the Annual Conference--the yearly meeting of clergy and laity of a given geographical area--the bishop who was in charge at that time of the Memphis Conference wanted to try something different. Bishop Finger was his name and he wanted to ordain people in the local church in from which they had made the decision to enter the ministry or their home church if that was more special to them. So I was ordained by myself at Grace Church in Memphis.
At the time hands were laid on me to ordain me, the Bishop was joined by a United Methodist clergyman, Tom Wilson, and two of my seminary professors: Joe Ben Irby, a Cumberland Presbyterian, and Richard Wolf, an Evangelical Lutheran. Both had taught me Church History. Joe Ben first interested me in the field and Dr. Wolf was my major professor for my M.Div and doctoral work.
About half these forty years were spent in some kind of parish or campus ministry. The other half I was in private practice as a therapist, but that work was shaped by my call. And simultaneously with a good bit of that time, I was an adjunct professor at a seminary. Plus, Sundays often found me teaching in the Christian Ed program of various parishes around town.
I haven't always felt as if I fit in very well in the Church as institution. In fact, I can honestly put it more strongly--I don't think I fit in very well. For one thing, I've never felt particularly as pious as my clergy peers seem to be (I guess pious is the right word), and hence have often been described as "not your usual minister." For another, I've always felt as if the Church as institution functions largely in an irrational way and that bugs me no end. For example, the UMC still moves clergy around as it did during the frontier days when it was a necessity while now it is a huge inconvenience for the clergy, their families and often their parishes. Additionally, the UMC makes these moves in less than rational ways, seldom taking into account the actual gifts of a clergyperson or the actual needs of a parish. That always frustrated me.
On top of all that, those who know me well know that first in 1983 and then again in 2002, I tried to become an Episcopal priest where I feel much more at home. And both times was eventually turned down after promising beginnings. This is a pain I still feel from time to time.
But even with all this said, I have no serious regrets about the decision that started the process toward that special Sunday forty years ago. I felt the Spirit enter my life and work under the hands of those holy men and I continue to feel the Spirit's presence in my life and work in a unique way. It has always been a mystery to me as to why God called me, but I'm thankful to have been called.
Peace,
Jerry+
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Inadequate
Last Sunday's Gospel reading tells the story of Jesus calming the wind and sea when his followers in the boat fear for their lives. It must have been a heck of a storm for these seasoned fishermen to have been so afraid. The Sea of Galilee on which they fished almost daily was known for its quick and nasty storms, but surely they were very experienced in dealing with them. But not this time.
Their boat was likely about twenty feet long with a single mast and sail if it is like the remains of one found a few years ago when the Sea was very low due to drought. At twenty feet and shallow draft, it would have been not unlike a cork bobbing and tossing on the waves. I can imagine them trying everything. But finally they admit defeat.
Oddly, though they are later surprised he could actually calm the storm, they finally turn to Jesus. They wake him and chide him for not caring that they are all about to perish. We know what happens next. The storm is calmed.
Is an obvious message for us to be found here? When our storms are doing their worst, we turn to Jesus last? And we even know that he can help! Interesting, huh?
Peace,
Jerry+
P.S. Today is post number 100. Wonder if anybody except my son is reading these?
Their boat was likely about twenty feet long with a single mast and sail if it is like the remains of one found a few years ago when the Sea was very low due to drought. At twenty feet and shallow draft, it would have been not unlike a cork bobbing and tossing on the waves. I can imagine them trying everything. But finally they admit defeat.
Oddly, though they are later surprised he could actually calm the storm, they finally turn to Jesus. They wake him and chide him for not caring that they are all about to perish. We know what happens next. The storm is calmed.
Is an obvious message for us to be found here? When our storms are doing their worst, we turn to Jesus last? And we even know that he can help! Interesting, huh?
Peace,
Jerry+
P.S. Today is post number 100. Wonder if anybody except my son is reading these?
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