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+
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
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?
Thursday, June 18, 2009
I'm OK Now
Rodney Dangerfield began most of his comic bits with, "I'm OK now, but you should have seen me last week." I know just how he felt.
A week ago today, I was involved in a car accident that totalled both cars. I was hit in the driver's side, taking out the door and the left front fender--and obviously lots more. Just didn't see the car coming and she hit me at about 35 mph. She was unhurt, for which I am very thankful.
My left hand was hit by the side air bag because when I saw the car, I threw my hands in front of my face thinking there would be glass flying. It sustained significant bruises and one of the vessels on my pointer was ruptured so there was blood. Later I found seat belt bruises too. And my neck and right shoulder sustained soft tissue injuries.
I don't remember a time when I have been any more afraid than when I saw her SUV and knew a crash was inevitable. I've joked and told people that I said either "O God!" or O shit!" The truth is, I only know I said something, but I don't know what. People were immediately at the car to help me climb out the passenger's side door. My glasses had been knocked off and I couldn't find them, so someone climbed in the car and helped with that.
The police were almost instantly at the site--must have been in the neighborhood; we didn't even have to call. I was very shaken and my finger kept bleeding so they asked if I wanted an ambulance. I didn't. Somewhere in the process, I called Mike, my son, who came to take me to the minor medical center and take me home. He was calm and calming, and of course, supportive. In fact, the only people I had to deal with who were a bit, how shall I put it--uncaring (?) was the tow truck driver who required $125 in cash before towing the car. But everyone else, insurance claim agents, rental car agents, medical personnel, police, the bank, the car dealer, even the other driver, were all polite, concerned, caring, and helpful.
The past week is kind of a blur. Multiple times an hour, I still see the SUV bearing down on me, but the emotions are leveling off. Driving feels like it did when I was a learner: nothing is automatic and the "enemy" is everywhere. I know this will eventually pass.
Carol, my wife, has been a champ. Even though this is going to cost us some bucks that are a little harder to come by these days to replace the car and an increase in insurance payments, she keeps saying, "The main thing is you're OK." That is the main thing. Nobody was seriously injured. The worst we have to deal with is inconvenience.
Oh, in the midst of all this confusion, straightline winds knocked out power out for 24 hours.
Is this a parable for those of us who are still working, who aren't missing meals, whose power is still not still out five days later, whose health and welfare are in good shape? Perhaps we whine about the wrong stuff. I'm OK now and I feel a deeper sense of appreciation for being alive and well. I thank God for that. Going forward, I'll try to keep that the main thing.
Peace,
Jerry+
A week ago today, I was involved in a car accident that totalled both cars. I was hit in the driver's side, taking out the door and the left front fender--and obviously lots more. Just didn't see the car coming and she hit me at about 35 mph. She was unhurt, for which I am very thankful.
My left hand was hit by the side air bag because when I saw the car, I threw my hands in front of my face thinking there would be glass flying. It sustained significant bruises and one of the vessels on my pointer was ruptured so there was blood. Later I found seat belt bruises too. And my neck and right shoulder sustained soft tissue injuries.
I don't remember a time when I have been any more afraid than when I saw her SUV and knew a crash was inevitable. I've joked and told people that I said either "O God!" or O shit!" The truth is, I only know I said something, but I don't know what. People were immediately at the car to help me climb out the passenger's side door. My glasses had been knocked off and I couldn't find them, so someone climbed in the car and helped with that.
The police were almost instantly at the site--must have been in the neighborhood; we didn't even have to call. I was very shaken and my finger kept bleeding so they asked if I wanted an ambulance. I didn't. Somewhere in the process, I called Mike, my son, who came to take me to the minor medical center and take me home. He was calm and calming, and of course, supportive. In fact, the only people I had to deal with who were a bit, how shall I put it--uncaring (?) was the tow truck driver who required $125 in cash before towing the car. But everyone else, insurance claim agents, rental car agents, medical personnel, police, the bank, the car dealer, even the other driver, were all polite, concerned, caring, and helpful.
The past week is kind of a blur. Multiple times an hour, I still see the SUV bearing down on me, but the emotions are leveling off. Driving feels like it did when I was a learner: nothing is automatic and the "enemy" is everywhere. I know this will eventually pass.
Carol, my wife, has been a champ. Even though this is going to cost us some bucks that are a little harder to come by these days to replace the car and an increase in insurance payments, she keeps saying, "The main thing is you're OK." That is the main thing. Nobody was seriously injured. The worst we have to deal with is inconvenience.
Oh, in the midst of all this confusion, straightline winds knocked out power out for 24 hours.
Is this a parable for those of us who are still working, who aren't missing meals, whose power is still not still out five days later, whose health and welfare are in good shape? Perhaps we whine about the wrong stuff. I'm OK now and I feel a deeper sense of appreciation for being alive and well. I thank God for that. Going forward, I'll try to keep that the main thing.
Peace,
Jerry+
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Trinity Sunday
Last Sunday was Trinity Sunday. This is the day when the Church is supposed to celebrate this distinctive Three-In-One doctrine of ours about the relationship between God as Father, God as Son, and God as Holy Spirit. Most clergy dread having to preach about this, and in my experience, most avoid it, choosing some other topic.
In the history of the Church, the issue of the relationship between these three entities hasn't always been agreed upon. Not until Nicea in 325 was any attempt made to have an official doctrine agreed on by all. Even then it didn't happen. Arians, a group of Christians who had a different idea about Jesus, were to be stamped out now that orthodoxy had been declared. It didn't work. Basically the Arian movement continued for another couple of centuries as "official" teaching in the Germanic areas of Europe in particular.
Not only that, a group known as monophysites (meaning one nature) continued for centuries and still exist in several regional churches, such as Egypt.
So what? Well in this time when so much is made of orthodoxy and fundamentalism is constantly clashing with other views, it's important to ask a question. Does the requirement for accepting the doctrine of the Trinity to be Christian apply to followers of Jesus before Nicea? And what about the Arians and monophysites? Oh, and what about the United Pentecostals, a modern Pentecostal denomination that rejects this doctrine too? Are we saying all these people aren't saved?
Well, of course we are, if by "we" we mean modern Christian fundamentalist (Pentecostals excepted). The rest of us? Heck, we don't really understand the doctrine anyway and in my experience, most Christians I've known are actually not trinitarian in their belief. They say the Creeds, but in the final analysis, they tend more toward the "three God" belief in practice.
All of which is to say, since Jesus seemed way more interested in how people lived than in what they believed, we might focus a little more attention on that too. Maybe we'd cheat less, fight less, steal less, murder less--you get the point. But, I could be wrong.
Peace,
Jerry+
In the history of the Church, the issue of the relationship between these three entities hasn't always been agreed upon. Not until Nicea in 325 was any attempt made to have an official doctrine agreed on by all. Even then it didn't happen. Arians, a group of Christians who had a different idea about Jesus, were to be stamped out now that orthodoxy had been declared. It didn't work. Basically the Arian movement continued for another couple of centuries as "official" teaching in the Germanic areas of Europe in particular.
Not only that, a group known as monophysites (meaning one nature) continued for centuries and still exist in several regional churches, such as Egypt.
So what? Well in this time when so much is made of orthodoxy and fundamentalism is constantly clashing with other views, it's important to ask a question. Does the requirement for accepting the doctrine of the Trinity to be Christian apply to followers of Jesus before Nicea? And what about the Arians and monophysites? Oh, and what about the United Pentecostals, a modern Pentecostal denomination that rejects this doctrine too? Are we saying all these people aren't saved?
Well, of course we are, if by "we" we mean modern Christian fundamentalist (Pentecostals excepted). The rest of us? Heck, we don't really understand the doctrine anyway and in my experience, most Christians I've known are actually not trinitarian in their belief. They say the Creeds, but in the final analysis, they tend more toward the "three God" belief in practice.
All of which is to say, since Jesus seemed way more interested in how people lived than in what they believed, we might focus a little more attention on that too. Maybe we'd cheat less, fight less, steal less, murder less--you get the point. But, I could be wrong.
Peace,
Jerry+
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