A Surreal Malevolence

There is a surreal malevolence at work in the world, whose goal is only chaos.

This surreal malevolence cares not for nation, corporation, denomination, family, or tribe. This surreal malevolence uses as its tools anything and everything it can get its corrosive claws on - partisan politics, news outlets, social media - whatever. Even (and especially) those things we would like to think of a good and nice and maybe even fun.

Further, the surreal malevolence does not care who gets elected or is legally able to be married or kneels for their flag (or not) or makes a profit or goes to bed hungry or wins the war. And as long as we are all out of sorts, mad at one another, and anxious, the surreal malevolence is satisfied.

Those who engage in a particular religious worldview know the surreal malevolence as Satan, the Devil, the Tempter, and a dozen other names. He is called Screwtape and Wormwood. She is known as demon or darkness or death. Their name is Legion.

Succumbing to the surreal malevolence is a pandemic, with global proportions. Evidence is ample, recorded on handheld devices and posted to YouTube in a daily deluge. Chaos. Anxiety. Unrest. Lifelong friends now unable to speak. Family members suspicious of one another, openly hostile. Hatred on full, public display. Once orderly systems rife with confusion.

And the surreal malevolence under the surface is relentless, uncaring, unfeeling; laying waste to empathy, respect, humility, integrity, compassion, honesty, common sense, all that once was assumed, now rotting away.

And even so, God whispers, “Do not be afraid.”

Yes indeed, “Fear not.” For there is another force at work in the world. A force more powerful by far. And that force is not only capable of defeating the surreal malevolence, it is quite likely the only thing that can.

To put it into words, that force is known as “true love.”

There is no fear in love, for perfect love casts out fear. And you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. True love - a deep, bold love that is brutal in its honesty and equally brutal in its graciousness. A love that insists on authenticity and vulnerability. A love that is at the same time both pliable and unyielding. A love that is at the same time naked and wearing the full armor of God. A love that is the paradox of the deepest pain and the most ecstatic joy.

True love. Love that gazes into your eyes and makes your heart flutter. Love that brings a smile to your lips. Love that embraces without awkwardness, and also knows when to walk away. Love that will calm the storm, but can rock the boat when necessary. True. Love.

To live our lives fully by the tenets of true love is terrifying. It requires us to do things like turn the other cheek and walk the extra mile and give not only our coat but our shirt as well and lay down our life for someone else. It is inherently risky. Not metaphorically risky, actually physically risky to your comfort, your health, your safety. It is unabashedly selfless. It is not for the faint of heart.

To put it simply, resisting the surreal malevolence at work in the world requires us to announce, advocate for, and embody true love. Everything we do, everything we say, even everything we think about, all must come from one source, to the exclusion of any other.

In so doing, we exhume the seeds of chaos and sow instead seeds of grace and peace. The work will require us to lay aside our apathy, our passivity, and our fear. The tools for this work are compassion, empathy, and justice. The harvest may be a long time coming, but it will be plentiful. If we will be patient and work with diligence, we will feast.

I can feel in my guts when I am beginning to succumb to the surreal malevolence. It raises my blood pressure and gives me heartburn. I’m sure you know your own warning signs, you are aware. Do not collapse. Breathe deeply. Take a drink. Back off. Remember what you need, what you have, what you know.

And then re-enter the moment, re-centered on true love. Re-enter re-centered. And get back to work.

New Year Resolutions

In 2011, I have a few things that I am going to resolve to do.


1) When it comes to the health of my mind/body/spirit, I am going to adhere to the advice my 93 year old grandmother gave me this week. “Always remember to pray. Work hard. And take good care of your kids.” She told me this as we visited her in the nursing home, Erin and I sitting on her bed and Nanny in her chair, facing us. There were tears in her eyes (and ours), and we held each other’s hands as her simple, profound wisdom was spoken.

That advice kind of epitomizes the way Nanny lives her life, too. And her approach to living has served her well for nine decades, so I suppose we might do well to adopt it. “After all I’ve been through,” she told us, “I don’t really know how I’m still here.” And she paused. “I guess it would be better to say I don’t really know why. Why me?” And she paused again, and kind of looked off into space for a few seconds. “But,” she shrugged and smiled, “here I am, anyway.”


2) When it comes to church, I am going to enjoy the experiencables, recount the describables, and avoid obsessing over the measurables.

- There are measurables, like how many people attend worship every week or how many participate in a faith development class or how many go on a mission trip or how many professions of faith are made, and so forth.
- There are describables, like the layout of a building or the flow of a worship service or the goal of a mission project or a Bible study lesson plan, and so forth.
- And there are experiencables, aspects of a congregation that you cannot hope to measure or adequately describe, but must be felt first hand.

All are important, but they are not equivalent, and furthermore I have consistently placed a higher value on the measurables than the other two. That ends in 2011. I do not think it is even worth trying to rank them in any way; each has a distinct and inherent value. And so I resolve to simply enjoy the moments that can only be experienced to be appreciated, talk and write extensively about those moments that can and should be described, and allow the things that can be measured to be just one among several ways to describe the health of the congregation.


3) In my personal life, getting specific, I am going to
a) Take a hike in the woods once a week.
b) Audition for (at least) two shows at Springfield Little Theater.
c) Sit down at the piano to compose for (at least) three hours a week.
d) Read good books instead of watching junky television shows.


These three resolutions seem to me to be a pretty good start for the new calendar year. Flipping the calendar is kind of arbitrary, just another number on just another page of just another calendar. And so many “New Year Resolutions” tend toward the selfish end of things, intended to impact no further than our own selves.

But this date does offer a chance to reflect and renew, and resolve to become better people, and that’s not a bad thing. I hope that our resolutions this year will be more than just a financial boon for fitness clubs, programs to help you quit smoking, and the latest greatest weight loss diet plan. I hope that they will really be geared toward living better lives in community with one another, and becoming the people God wants us to become.

"UP" - It's About Love!

This week, Campbell UMC is watching “UP” together and our worship service is drawing from themes out of the remarkable movie. When I asked my daughter what she thought “Up” was about, she said without hesitation, “It’s about love!” And you know, she’s a pretty smart girl.

How many impulses can be attributed to the underlying human inclination to be in relationship with another person? To be known, to be affirmed, and to be thus connected to another human being is our life’s core purpose. The fulfillment of this purpose is experienced as being loved.

The flipside, by the way, is to know, to affirm, and connect to another person. The inclination toward relationship is mutual, and when the energy flows outward, we understand what it means to love. To love and to be loved, it seems to me, motivate just about everything we do.

These impulses flash in both positive and negative ways, though they arise from the same source. Consider Carl Fredricksen, the old man in “Up” whose wife Ellie dies after a lifetime of wonderful happy years together. They dream of adventure, imagine traveling to exotic locales and eventually building their home at the top of the near-mythical “Paradise Falls.”

Carl’s impulse to act at the beginning of the movie is a desperate longing for Ellie and a deep regret that their imagined adventures never happened, and it leads him to obsessively preserve their house and all of their possessions – even their mailbox. When the mailbox is knocked over by a construction worker, Carl’s frantic desperation (grief) causes him to physically attack the worker as he attempts to repair it.

This violence is completely out of character for Carl, who has been seen up to this point as a quiet, solid, and dependable man. But the impulse for his action is his powerful love for Ellie, a longing that has for so many years been easily fulfilled that he cannot redirect it after her death. It makes him do something he would never ordinarily have done, and he even seems surprised by it.

Russell is a boy who is trying to get his “Assisting the Elderly” badge for Wilderness Explorer Scouts, and so knocks on Carl’s door to ask him if he needs any help with anything. Russell is looking forward to the ceremony in which the badges are awarded, when “all the dads come” to be with their sons. We quickly learn, however, that Russell’s dad is out of the picture, and the longing that Russell feels is for the paternal relationship that he so deeply desires but does not have.

Russell longs for affirmation. Carl longs for adventure. And so, in their meeting and the development of their relationship, Russell becomes Carl’s adventure as Carl becomes Russell’s affirmation. Each knows the other and is known, each affirms and is affirmed, they connect deeply with each other and their relationship is a beautiful picture of love.

Jesus saved his last few words with his disciples for, “Love one another.” Paul says that the entire law is contained in the phrase, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” 1st John 4 reveals that God’s very identity is somehow comprised of love. There is no more significant idea for children of God than love; everything else starts there – grace, peace, justice, forgiveness – without love none of these even make sense.

Love is supposed to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things. Or so Paul would have us understand. But what in the world does that mean?

Maybe it means, in part, that there is a “no-matter-whatness” quality of love. To bear, to endure all things – I get this. But to believe all things? …to hope all things?

All things? Really?

Maybe it means there is an attitude of openness in love. Not naïveté (believe anything you hear), but faithfulness. Knowing that, in a loving relationship, whatever happens is going to be okay. So you’re open to it, not afraid, ready for it.

In all things, I will have faith. In all things, I will have hope. Because of the love, you see. Because I am known and it’s okay, because I am being affirmed, because I am connected to another person in a positive, uplifting relationship. And at the same time I risk knowing another, affirming another, and connecting to another to uplift them and build them up, too.

That may be why love is the greatest of these.

UMC Divisiveness: An Annoying Buzz

Did anyone else notice how Andrew Thompson characterizes the "great divide" of the UMC in his most recent Reporter column?

He writes that there are "two parties" consisting of "those who want to keep the church's doctrine in conformity to Scripture and the broad catholic tradition, and those who insist the church should better reflect the pluralistic, individualistic culture of the wider American society." Now, he doesn't get specific about which "hot-button issues" he is thinking of, but I've got to ask about a few of his word choices.

First: Andrew sees only two "parties" in the UMC. However, in my experience, there are WAY more that two perspectives on every issue, and assuming an either/or outlook just contributes to the myth of divisiveness that so many people are working to overcome. As much as we might want the world to be neatly divided into conservative/liberal, red/blue, or whatever/whichever, in reality life is much more complex, and most of us are okay with that.

Second: Andrew assumes that it is impossible to come up with multiple interpretations of Scripture and tradition. He seems to believe that, if there is disagreement, it must mean that one perspective seeks "conformity" to Scripture/tradition and one does not. However, I have found that it is quite common for equally faithful Christians to study scripture, pray, think, and discuss; and nonetheless end up with different beliefs. Furthermore, it is possible to believe in a way that is grounded in Scripture and tradition, and also the real life experience of living in a diverse, complex, global society.

The column really isn't about divisiveness. His main idea is that we can't let the impending divisiveness of General Conference distract us from other, very important issues. I agree (though I do not agree with his take on those issues per se). But it strikes me that in his act of naming the divisiveness, he does the very thing he is cautioning us against. It's like walking into a room and somebody says, "Hey, do you hear that annoying buzzing noise?" And you say, "Well, not until you mentioned it - and now I can't not hear it."

What if we approached General Conference anticipating honest disagreements expressed graciously, with respect and love? What if we approached General Conference knowing that there would be a wide array of beliefs and ideas being expressed, and we could be okay with that? I read last week (don't remember where) that there is room in the church for disagreement, but not division. I think that is an important distinction to make.

General Conference doesn't have to be divisive, and the decision to make it not be so starts now as the UMC prepares. It starts with one person deciding not to buy into the divisiveness myth, and grows outward from there. It starts with one delegation saying, "Not this year," and setting a hopeful tone that will trickle over into the delegations sitting around them. It starts with one delegate relinquishing their fear and asking another delegate with whom they know they disagree about something to have a cup of coffee and talk about their favorite hobbies or sports or something.

We are not united by our beliefs - we are united by the grace of God. And that's where we will find a future with hope.

Prayers for Kenya

The violence in Kenya has a face for us here in North Kansas City. Last summer, a member of our congregation travelled there on a mission trip to serve at the Missionaries of Charity home for disabled and abandoned children and women and in the autism unit at an elementary school. She kept a blog and you can read about her experience there.

Edna has been in contact with some of her friends in Kenya, and they are alive, but it is very dangerous to leave the house still. 300 people are reported killed and 70,000 have been displaced, according to the BBC. We are asking for prayers for all of those innocent ones caught up in between the combatants, and for a just, peaceful resolution to the fighting.

There is such power in relationship, isn't there? Without Edna, the violence in Kenya would be just another abstract news story about a political/ethnic conflict on the other side of the world. And we would still pray for peace and for the safety of all the people, to be sure. But since Edna was there, knows people, has been in contact with them, and has shared and continues to share her experiences with us in the congregation, their story is our story, and their suffering is ours.

Life in Christ is a mystery. How is it that my connection with Edna means that I am also connected with her friends in Kenya? It kind of shrinks the world a little bit, no?