The Guy in the Park, or, The Random Diatribe

I was at the park this morning; the two bigs were off playing and I was standing watch over the two littles, who were just piddling around in the picnic shelter (in spite of the very appealing playground a few yards away, I might add).

A man strolled over, walking his black poodle around the park perimeter. He told me the dog's name. "He likes kids," he declared as the two littles came over and started petting him. "I like the logo on your shirt," he added.

I was wearing an old Saint Paul School of Theology Shirt which has a logo on it that uses the shape of the cross perched atop Kresge Chapel on the campus in Kansas City. So I explained to him that I am a pastor and this is a t-shirt from my seminary.

"What church do you pastor?" he asked. And I told him, "Campbell United Methodist, right up the road."

It was then that I noticed his cap, which identified him as an Ozark Minuteman, which served as a precursor to what he started into next.

What followed was probably a 5 -10 minute diatribe about how pastors of the past would never have stood by and watched while "all of this stuff" is happening to our country, but how fear of losing the tax-exempt status for our congregation prevents us from doing so. "All of this stuff" happening to our country consisted, for him, of pretty much every talking point of the political far right, including the one about Obama forming a kind of private army of some sort which he said that he saw a video of on the internet.

I tried to deflect to more superficial topics, like kids and the dog and the weather - to no avail. My new friend pit bulled the conversation, latching on to his tirade and refusing to let go, following me around the picnic shelter as I chased toddlers in two directions.

And so, what strikes me about the incident is not so much what the guy was saying. Nothing new there. What made an impression on me was how quickly and in what tone of voice he began sharing it with me. It was as if seeing the cross on my shirt indicated to him that I would be in sympathy with his rather grumpy viewpoint automatically. I'm not, but that's not really the point. The point is that he assumed I was.

The things the guy in the park was saying would have been better left to a time when a relationship is established and the conversation partners know each other well. And it would have been more appropriate in a calm, reasonable tone of voice. Rapport like that is what allows for respectful, grace-filled dialogue to happen. The guy in the park took a huge risk, and assumed I was going to agree with everything he had to say - and he thought it was okay to take that risk because I had a cross on my shirt and had told him I am a pastor.

And ironically, it WAS safe for him to take that risk, but not because of the reason he thought. He assumed it was safe for him because I was just as mad as him about "all this stuff" the President is doing. Rather, it was safe because I'm not going to pass judgement on him in any way for what he believes one way or the other. I allowed him to express himself as I would any random stranger. Having no relationship with him, my role was simply to smile and nod. Which I did. A lot.

Of course, I am fully equipped with the knowledge needed to go point-by-point with everything this guy was saying. I've done my reading and I could have responded to him if I had chosen to. And of course, if I knew the guy well and felt comfortable offering my contrasting opinion and could do so in a respectful and calm way, I would absolutely have pushed back a bit. But a random stranger, in the park, me trying to keep track of four kids? I don't think that was the time or place, to say the least.

So I smiled, nodded, and chased the kids around until he felt like he had said what he needed to. Then he walked on and we went over to the slide. And that was that.

Hee hee hee!

Promotion Sunday for Grown-Ups?

One of the most important aspects of our faith is growth – ours is not a stagnant condition but a process of continual learning. There is always more to know about God. There is always just a bit closer we can step toward Jesus. Our lives can always be a little more Christlike.

This Sunday at Campbell we will celebrate some of the youngest members of the church family and the teachers who lead them along the first steps of their faith journey. At the 8:20 worship service, we will honor the children’s Sunday School teachers and promote children up to the next grade level of our Sunday School program.

The kids and their teachers will all gather up front of the sanctuary and we’ll pray for them all. Then we’ll all sing together as they head down to the gym for the big promotion! What an exciting day!

No matter how old we are, the development of our faith is key to living the life Christ calls us all to live. Don’t you wish there was a promotion Sunday for grown-ups, too? It seems like there should be some tangible sign or ritual that says, “You have officially completed this level of your spiritual education and are ready to move on to the next. Congratulations!”

Alas, it is a little vaguer than that. After we complete the numbered grades, the ceremonies marking our development are few and far between. It’s not so much that we have less to learn than we start keeping track of it differently.

No, there is no promotion Sunday for grown-ups, but wouldn't it be cool? We'd get called up to the front by our first and last name and the teacher would give us a little certificate or maybe one of those wooden crosses to put in our pocket. The off we would go to that room down the hall that we had always wondered what it was like in there and now we were going to get our chance to see it for ourselves!

Maybe? Anyone with me on this?

Life Metaphors

Any and all language about God is metaphorical. And that does not lessen the power of the words we use, merely tempers them a bit. And so whether God is Father or Creator or Mother or Papa or יהוה any of the other numerous possibilities, the best any word can do is describe a tiny bit of the one who is utterly indescribable.

Likewise, we use metaphorical images to describe life. The words we choose to describe the life God gives are powerful, but similarly tempered by their symbolic roles. So if we describe life as a battle against cosmic forces, we don’t mean literally a battle with literal armies lined up on opposite sides of a literal battlefield literally attacking each other. We mean battle as in a struggle, or opposition to a force at work.

There are other metaphors for a life of faith, of course. I have heard it described variously as a race or a dance or a journey, for example. None of these are literal, but supply symbolic meaning to our approach to living.

I happen to believe that any of these other three metaphors are superior to the metaphor of the battle. My last post explained some of the reasons why I think the battle image doesn’t work as well any more, focusing on the “Armor of God” passage in Ephesians 6. I think, essentially, that what the image conveyed in that letter 2,000 years ago doesn’t get conveyed today.

At different times of life, different metaphors work better than others. There are times when my life has felt like a battle, to be sure. But it was always a temporary deal. Like when the thing I was battling was out of the way, I moved on. So I guess I think of it more as an obstacle in the way of my journey than a battle. The devil doesn’t so much fight me as put things in my way.

What does that say about my theology? I’m still thinking on that, but part of what it says is that I really do think about salvation as a way or a journey. I thought about it that way even before I learned enough Wesleyan theology to realize that’s what I thought! Of course the Wesleys used multiple images to describe salvation, but the metaphor of a multi-stage journey toward “perfection” is the dominant one.

So I think of the driving force of faith as an impulse to get somewhere, much more so than an impulse to defeat something. There will likely be metaphorical obstacles to overcome and metaphorical adversaries to fight against as we go, but ultimately we’re doing it because we’re going. The point is not to conquer the enemy; the point is to get to the place where the enemy doesn’t want us to go.

In Ephesians 6, the term “full armor” is used - πανοπλίαν – and it is only used one other place in the entire New Testament. This fact highlights its significant, particular meaning. The soldier must put on the “full armor” specifically contrasted with only partial armor, in order to be fully prepared for battle. The point being that one must be fully prepared for the work to be done.

And so I can convey the same meaning by saying that we need to be fully packed for the journey, not just a water bottle and granola bar for an afternoon hike in the woods, but the back of the mini-van stuffed with every thing we might conceivably need for the two week vacation. And if I can convey the same meaning using a different metaphor, I think that’s okay.

Finally, I just think life these days is too violent to add to it with violent faith images. Recent pictures of people wielding assault weapons at a public rally only serve to solidify that point. Violence has become normal, expected, no big deal. Why add to that with equally violent responses? Shouldn’t people of God offer an alternative? Something different?

We’re not supposed to meet evil with more evil. We’re supposed to meet evil with good. (Romans 12) In The Screwtape Letters (still my favorite C.S. Lewis book), this quote of Luther appears just after the preface: “The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to the texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn.” The devil hates joy, and I find that to be much more useful in overcoming those obstacles than anything else.

What’s your favorite metaphor for life? What words do you use most often to talk about living the way God intends that we live? I’m curious to hear your thoughts.

"Full Armor" Image - Still Meaningful?

This week I'm going to preach about being “dressed for success” using a passage from Ephesians 6. Using a word that occurs only one other time in the New Testament, the author exhorts us readers to put on the “full armor” of God. But what kind of armor is this?

Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, salvation, and the Spirit? These are the articles of clothing with which we are to gird ourselves in preparation for battle with “the cosmic powers of this present darkness.” Um… don’t you have anything more … substantial? Like a thermo-nuclear device, maybe? Shoot, I’d settle for a shirt of chain mail!

The answer, of course, is no. This isn’t real “armor” we’re getting ourselves dressed in; armor is being used here symbolically. This passage is a metaphor for preparing ourselves to live the life God wants us to live, which may prove to be difficult from time to time. The author has taken overtly militaristic imagery and transformed it into what would seem like nonsense to a soldier. Surely a soldier with any sense would rather go into battle with a shield made out of metal or even wood, rather than one out of faith.

But I think that is precisely the point. God gives us what we need to prepare us to live a good life, and much of the time it’s not really what we might expect. Nevertheless, God assures us that what has been given is indeed sufficient, despite our frantic scrabbling for something we think might be more appropriate.

+++

The above thoughts are a part of my newsletter article this week. I always write an article intended to prime the pump for the upcoming worship services, get people thinking, kind of preview coming attractions. Of course, it also reflects what I am thinking about during the week as well.

I have been thinking a bit about militaristic images in scripture, kind of as a tangent to the central theme of the week. War is something I have changed my mind about many times throughout my life. And using militaristic images to talk about faith has been something I have usually avoided, or at least not emphasized, because of this waffling.

Listening to people talk about their experiences Guatemala, ravaged by war over the past several decades, really impacted my ideas about war. Serving as a pastor in Warrensburg, with several Air Force personnel and their families in the congregation helped to shape my thoughts as well. And good friendships with a few people who have served in the Middle East and their families have also informed my opinions.

One thing that is certain: war in 2009 is so different from war in the ancient near east as to be almost unrecognizable. A soldier described in the Bible and a soldier serving today in Afghanistan have many things in common, to be sure, but also huge differences. For one thing, the level of destruction that is possible today would have been unthinkable then. Also the amount of automation along the front lines is obviously an enormous difference. And changes in communication and transportation have flattened the world so that every local conflict is instantly global.

Because of these differences, I am hesitant to incorporate militaristic imagery when talking about faith. It's just not the same world now as it was then. And out of my deep respect for people who serve in the military, and my sincere desire to support them and their families, I choose not to use military metaphors to make a theological point. I even sort of regret my off-handed attempt at humor in my newsletter article above, mentioning a thermo-nuclear device to illustrate my point. That was pretty insensitive of me, and I am sorry.

Like I said, this is a topic that I have changed my mind about before, and I'm sure I will again. I'd be interested to know what y'all think. If you feel so inclined, leave a comment and let's discuss it. Does the militaristic imagery in scripture still convey the meaning it was intended to convey?

Eternal Life

I’ve been thinking about life eternal, in preparation for Sunday’s sermon. What does it mean? What does “everlasting” feel like?

I don’t think eternal life begins when we die, because if it had a beginning, then it wouldn’t be eternal. Eternal not only means “always will be” but also “always has been.” Shane Claiborne wrote about this in “The Irresistible Revolution,” saying that he is convinced “Jesus came not just to prepare us to die but to teach us how to live.” Eternal life is an ongoing something that we enter into when we decide to follow Jesus.

I’ve been contemplating how this idea weaves in to the social issues around the beginning and ending of life. For example, one of the loudest groups in the milieu believes that life begins at conception. While biologically this may be true, theologically I do not believe it. God tells Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you…” (Jeremiah 1:4) not “At the moment of your conception I knew you…” Life everlasting has no beginning; it is like entering a flowing stream somewhere in the middle.

Similarly, Paul writes that “we will not all die, but we will all be changed” (1 Corinthians 15:51). I do not believe that ceasing to function biologically is the same as ceasing to be. I do not know how I personally will feel about it when a loved one is close to death, or when I am. I’d like to think that I will be able to face it unafraid. But I have numerous experiences in ministry with people who are dying and with their families, and it is a holy time in which you get a little glimpse in the direction of infinity.

And while I don’t know exactly how to express the idea, because all language is metaphor, all of this means that saying “yes” to the life everlasting that Christ offers should therefore impact us in the present. Followers of Christ should live differently, better. In other words, I’m no expert on the “everlasting” part, but I’ll do my best to live the here and now like God wants me to.

Doesn’t it seem like sometimes we spend a lot of energy waiting around for heaven? As Shane Claiborne puts it, “Christians pretty much live like everybody else; they just sprinkle a little Jesus in along the way.” I don’t believe that we are supposed to live however we want and then let God sort it all out in the end. I believe we are supposed to live here and now as if the there and then has already come. Why else would be pray for God’s will to be done on earth, as it is in heaven?

The life God wants us to live will be easy then, because God’s reign on earth will be fulfilled and God’s law will be written on all hearts. And what a wonderful party that will be! But while we wait for it, we are supposed to bring that life to life right now, and that’s not easy. In fact, it’s amazingly difficult.

Kind of like it was for Jesus. Jesus came to tell us that God’s reign on earth was among us, not in the far-off future, and certainly not in any earthly authority. And not only that, he came to embody that heavenly reign on earth in his very self. And it was hard work. You might say he worked himself to death.

Have you ever thought about how much in this world would change if Christians really lived the way Jesus says we should? What would it look life if we truly believed that we have been given life everlasting? How would you respond? How would you change?

Stuff Swirling

The only things I have written in the past ten days have been emails and newsletter articles. Even my sermon last Sunday was unwritten; I had the outline in my mind, a few key transition phrases, and that was about it. It has been a very active couple of weeks. Here's the things, in no particular order:

A major staff transition is underway. I had to call the child abuse/neglect hotline after speaking with a friend about a very upsetting situation. I was in charge of setting up and facilitating an online meeting held Thursday morning for a group of ministers across the state. An inspiration struck me and I started writing a Christmas musical for children. Our niece and nephews were in town for a few days’ visit and we went to Silver Dollar City during the day Friday. I had my 20th High School Reunion on Friday evening and Saturday. And then I went to a wedding Saturday late afternoon.

It was an unbelievable week.

So I didn't write anything. But if I had, it was going to be about the responses I got to two questions I posed on my Facebook status last week. Tuesday I asked, "Does the fact that different Gospels tell the story of Jesus differently bug you?" Wednesday I asked, "Does the fact that today, different Christians interpret the story of Jesus differently bug you?"

(Thursday, Clayton asked, "Does the fact that today, Andy Bryan did not pose a new "bug you" question, bug you?" Which I thought was very helpful, thank you Clayton.)


The responses were fascinating. It definitely elicited some thoughts, and some people wrote at length. My initial impetus for asking the questions was preparing for a sermon about Holy Communion using the Gospel According to John as the text, which is a bit odd because John doesn't mention the "Last Supper" in the way that the synoptics do.

But that moment passed and I don't really have anything interesting to say about that.

Now I have a lot of other stuff swirling in my brain and way too much to say about any of it.

I could write about what happens when you tell people with whom you graduated 20 years ago that you are a pastor. I could write about re-envisioning children's ministry in a time of transition. I could write about the relief of hearing that a child I thought may be in danger is in a safe place. I could write about the impulse to create something, how it hits you and what you have to do to scratch the itch when it comes because it simply will not be ignored.

Or I could just write about all the things I might possible write about and actually say nothing. Which is what I have done. And that's all there is to that.

Love Equals Stuff? and "Coraline" Thoughts

A 2008 report (that I read about here) shows a correlation between rising divorce rates and increasing toy sales. It's simple math really, one kid plus two sets of parents equals twice the toys.

The same report also notes that toy sales are high because parents are having kids later in life, therefore they have more disposable income to ... well ... dispose of on their kids. And finally, since grandparents are living longer and staying active, they are more involved with their grandkids and therefore buying them toys, also.

What does this have to do with love? (Or perhaps, what's love got to do with IT?)

I'm not sure, but one thing I know is that my kids have way too many toys, and I'm afraid that they are being conditioned to think that love equals stuff. Or more specifically, love equals stuff being given to them.

Have you seen "Coraline"? If so, read on. If not, be warned that there may be spoilers contained herein:

The other mother, who is no doubt a presentation of evil, tries to get Coraline to love her by giving Coraline everything her heart desires. More to the point, the other mother gives Coraline everything that her real parents do not - delicious food, an opportunity to play out in the rain, neat-o clothes, and such.

She does so because she thinks that Coraline will consequently love her. Or maybe she does so because she thinks Coraline will (mistakenly) believe that such attention is, in fact, love, and reciprocate.

But it's not love, it's a noisy gong and a clanging cymbal.

Let me stretch a metaphor. I may not even fully agree with it myself, but I'm going to put it out there and see what happens. Here it is:

Sometimes the church is the "other world" from the movie Coraline. People are intrigued and bedazzled by the shiny stuff and all, but the church's true agenda is to get them in the door and keep them there forever. The church sometimes mistakenly thinks that giving people exactly what they want is all there is to it. The thinking goes, If we (the church) can just have the ideal set of programs that meet every single person's need exactly as they want it too, then they'll want to stay here.

And that's all the farther we think sometimes, just getting people through the tunnel and into the door so that they'll stay. And once they do, we sew buttons on their eyes and force them to smile all the time, preparing the shiny stuff again for the next victim. We sometimes make the mistake of thinking that stuff (in the form of programming, curriculum, technology, and yes, stuff itself) is somehow a substitute for love.

So that's the metaphor. It's pretty harsh, and I'm still mulling it over to see if it works or not. I think it does part of the time, at least. Here's how:

Rather than this metaphor (however harsh it may be), the church truly should be a set of relationships grounded in divine love that empower people to go out as ambassadors of that love, offering it to others.

Like in the final scene of Coraline, when the real residents of the Pink Palace apartments (the church?) are having a garden party (a worship service? ) to which they have invited Grandma and Wybie (the neighbors?) to come and share a glass of lemonade (communion?). Nothing shiny, no magic piano, just plain red tulips.

But it's real - it's love - and maybe it's even church.

True Love

First Corinthians 13: It’s not just for weddings anymore!

Sometimes I feel the need to make this assertion. There is a great danger in relegating this powerful passage to some lovey-dovey, cutsie little newlywed poem, intended only to describe that gushy sentimentality that makes us all tear up at weddings, providing us a polite chuckle when we come to the “love does not insist on it’s own way” line, remarking after the ceremony that Uncle Joe “did a wonderful job” with the reading, and forgetting that this passage is intended to describe how all of us are supposed to be living our lives, for heaven’s sake!

Not to put too fine a point on it; this passage should kick our fannies.

I don’t have anything personal against weddings, you understand, though my initial paragraph may make it seem like they are for me an experience akin to pulling teeth out with rusty pliers. Not at all. I am simply lamenting our cultural tendency to rob 1st Corinthians, chapter 13 of its enormous convicting power, its profoundly hopeful promise, and the offer of a new way to live contained therein.

So go ahead and enjoy it at the next wedding you attend. The chances are good that it will be included, since it is included in roughly 98.7% of all weddings in the U.S. (based on thoroughly unscientific research conducted by me and me alone). But this Sunday we will consider it NOT in the context of a wedding, but in the way that it might apply to anyone’s life at any moment.

“What is love?” is more than an early ‘90s dance track that Will Ferrell and Chris Kattan used to dance to on Saturday Night Live. It is an important question that we all should ask ourselves from time to time. How do we know love? How do we discern between true love and surface level attraction? How can we tell when love is “real” and lasting, and what does that even mean?

In worship Sunday, we’ll think together about real love, whose source is God and whose expression should mark every aspect of our being.

Doubt and Faith

Faith in God.

It means trusting the promises that God makes without needing proof.

Doubt.

It means to be uncertain about something. It can also mean to distrust.

So are faith and doubt compatible? Can one live while the other survives? Does the presence of doubt at all mean a total absence of faith?

Sunday I'm preaching about doubt and faith. In Mark 9, the father of a boy who is in need of healing utters what can only be a paradoxical expression of faith. Jesus tells him that all things can be done for one who believes, to which the father replies, "I believe; help my unbelief." (pisteuo, apistia - for you Greek scholars.)

So does he believe or doesn't he? John Wesley thought that this verse indicated the man's faith was there, but in so small an amount that it seemed to not be there at all. I think Mr. Wesley had to do a few too many interprative leaps to get to that conclusion. But far be it from me to come right out and disagree with Wesley, of course!

I think the statement is best left right where it is. The answer is yes, he believes; and no, he doesn't. And there it is. And there we are, most of the time, if we are completely honest about it. Living in the paradox.

Have you ever known a person with a sick loved one, and the person prayed for that loved one who then made a complete recovery, and the person subsequently thanked God for answering prayers? And on the other hand, have you ever known a person with a sick loved one, and the person prayed for that loved one who then did not get better but actually died, and then ... well, then what? Would you ever dream of saying to that person, "If you had only had more faith..." "If you had only prayed harder..." "If you had only..." Of course not!

The truth is that stuff happens to us that shakes our faith - i.e. causes doubt. The most faithful thing we can do at such times is to acknowledge the doubt, bring it to the surface, and deal with it. If we do, God will give us the grace we need to move through it and get on with life. The most dangerous thing we can do at such times is to ignore the doubt, or worse still to deny it. It is an unhealthy person who claims absolute certainty in absolutely every situation.

Salvation is a journey and there are times we are a lot closer to the destination than other times. But wherever we are, God's grace is there, ready to draw us closer. Doubt, then, is not a bad thing inherently. It's what we do with it that counts.

Orbiting the Giant Hairball - Thumbs Up!

I've just finished with "Orbiting the Giant Hairball" by Gordon MacKenzie. It's great. It is written with respect to the business world but is very illuminating for any organization, including school or church.

The hairball is the organization, which may have started out as a dynamic movement but has inevitably become an entagled mess of policies and procedures and rules and committees and ... basically a giant hairball. The book is NOT about how to unravel the hairball, an improbable if not impossible task.

The book is about how to use the graviational energy of the hairball to propel yourself into a creative orbit around it, neither being sucked in to its tangly fibers nor launching off into the vacuum of space beyond it. It is about valuing creativity and genius and spontaneity in and of itself, without demanding an accounting in the "proper" channels of the hairball. Consider this snip:

...in the eyes of any Anal Retentive worth his salt, anything that cannot be measured is of doubtful value - and even of doubtful existence.

...the Anal Retentives...lust for the fruits of creativity ... but mistrust the act of creativity, which remains invisible and elusive.

Only the Renegades in Orbit, removed from the Hairball's obsession with quantifying everything, are free to ream the unpredictable bounty of the inscrutable creative process.

MacKenzie worked for Hallmark, a corporate giant that started out as a creative impluse. It is a great case study, actually, because Hallmark is a giant hairball of a company that still tries to specialize in creativity, and the juxtaposition of organizational grey and the creative spectrum is very apparent.

Seems to me there's a lot the church can learn from this approach. The church has become in many ways a giant hairball of organization, bureaucracy, and self-sustaining archaism. But I do not want to dismantle it - not in the least. The key then, is how to use the hairball's gravity to attain orbit.

To me, becoming upset by the existence of the hairball is what gets me sucked in to the hairball itself. So the key is to just let the hairball be what it is without getting upset about it, and at the same time fly around in a creative orbit around it. To me the hairball is attendance figures, membership lists, budgets, insurance issues, pointless committees, overly numerous committees, overly numerous pointless comittees, and that kind of stuff. It is a part of the hairball if it exists solely for the perpetuation of the hairball itself, with no other purpose.

For me, this book is a refreshing counterpoint to the "Bull's Eye" books, which articulate hairball thinking quite eloquently. It takes a really gifted person to so succinctly describe the hairball while all the time professing to be anti-hairball through and through. And even more, to decry the current state of the hairball and offer up a replacement hairball as if it will somehow make everything okay takes (ironically) a healthy dose of creative genius itself.

But I just don't see it that way. The hairball is the hairball, and we're not going to get rid of it. Removal of even one strand is a major undertaking, because of the entaglement and mess it's in down below. Rather, let the hairball be! Dance around the edges of it. Flirt with it. Maybe even skip off of its surface. Just don't get sucked in. And don't leave it's gravitational pull either, finding yourself in a place where you have to generate all of the energy yourself. That's just crazy.

MacKenzie uses the metaphor of water skiing. The leader is driving the boat and the follower is holding on to the rope. If the leader will keep the boat steady and straight, the follower can pull and lean, jumping far outside of the wake, then zoom back in by pulling and leaning the other way, jumping high over the wake in the process. If they get going just right, the follower can actually pull even with the leader, and perhaps get ahead for a moment or two.

A good leader keeps the boat going at an even speed and basically in one direction, always letting the follower know if a turn is coming up. A good follower uses that energy to do amazing tricks on her water skis, often far outside of the wake. The one thing the follower does NOT want the leader to do is stop the boat.

It's a great metaphor, isn't it? That leader keeps things going to allow the follower to do those great tricks, and that follower trusts the leader to provide the momentum to do them. That sounds like a pretty cool church!

I am grateful to Bishop Schnase for introducing me to the Giant Hairball book, and I give it a high recommendation.

Back Home Again

What a great vacation!

Missouri > Illinois > Indiana > Ohio > West Virginia > Pennsylvania > West Virginia again > Maryland > Washington, D.C. – spread over three easy days of meandering.

Then five great days in D.C., all the monuments, museums (Native American, Air and Space, Natural History, American History), worship at the National Cathedral, Arlington Cemetery, Capitol tour. We stayed in a hotel in Georgetown and saw George Stephanopoulis on the street. We visited Claire McCaskill’s office and ran into Kit Bond walking between Senate office buildings. We called up some old friends from Kansas City and spent the afternoon with them at National Harbor. It was great.

We took a side trip to Williamsburg, visiting the Fredericksburg Battlefield along the way. We went to Jamestown and to Yorktown, and enjoyed two trips to beaches, one in Norfolk and one in Virginia Beach. On the way home we made a stop at Monticello, which is awesome, and a stop in St. Louis to visit family and see Harry Potter 6, which is also awesome, except in a different sort of way.

We picked up the foster kids from respite care and had a great reunion with them; they did just fine and we are so thankful for good foster families who are willing to provide respite care.

And now we are home and catching up with life. It is good to be home, as always, even considering the great time we had on vacation. It’s always nice to come home.

Vacating

For the next two weeks, we're doing the good, old fashioned, "family vacaction" thing! Piling in the mini-van and heading out across the country to visit Washington D.C. Along the way we'll meander a bit, taking three whole days to travel and see some sights between here and there. I can't wait!

We will be placing our two foster sons in respite care for the time we'll be gone. Thank God for respite care providers! Every foster family gets a certain number of days per year of respite care. As rewarding as it is for us to provide foster care for our kids, it is very nice to reconnect with just the four of us every now and then.

But at the same time we're concerned for them. We know the respite family is really good; the boys' case worker knows them and has worked with them a lot. She recommends them. So its not that. Its just being away from them for that long, we'll be worried. So if you don't mind, say a prayer or two for our boys and us in these upcoming days!

I don't think blogging will be a high priority for me for the next couple of weeks. So don't be surprised (or chagrined ... or relieved either) if you don't see anything posted here until July 21st-ish.

Washington, here we come!

Our Lives, Our Fortunes, Our Sacred Honor

"And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."

This is the ending of the Declaration of Independence, right before the signatures. I am much more familiar with the first part, about the self-evident truths. But after that part, and after explaining how governments should secure those unalienable rights, and then very carefully explaining how the current government has not done so, and in fact has abused its power at the expense of the people, and even after declaring therefore that the united Colonies are now free and independent States - that's when this line appears.

Theological reflection on this sentence leads to a conversation about "Divine Providence." If Divine Providence is the sovereignty of God to order earthly events toward realization of God's purposes, one necessarily must place the concept in tension with "Free Will." This conversation has been repeated numerous times in Christian history, and faithful Christians hold diverse beliefs about what it really means.

Not to diminsh that conversation, but what caught my eye when I read the Declaration this time was the final clause: "...we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."

What a beautiful idea. The idea of freedom was so important to the authors of the Declaration, they promised one another their very lives.

They promised one another their fortunes, from which I infer they meant their material resources. I wonder what they would think of the greed so blatantly on display these days.

They promised one another their honor, which to me says they "had each others' back." Like, "When you're a Jet you're a Jet all the way from your first cigarette to your last dying day."

What an exciting time it must have been. It still captures my imagination, to think of the atmosphere in the colonies 233 years ago! It was risky, scary. It was fresh, new. There was such energy and passion. It was this energy that made it possible for them to make this pledge, I suppose. They were caught up in the revolutionary spirit, and deeply unified.

Their unity transcended their differences, which at times were very strong (here's one essay among many making this point). The revolutionaries had unique individual perspectives on the situation, and made their opinions known. And yet to dissent was not condemned, it was encouraged. It is one of the most important aspects of our national story, in fact; the freedom to dissent against the British crown was the cornerstone of the revolution.

I wish sometimes that we would revisit the last line of the Declaration of Independence as a nation, you know? Maybe just once skip the part we had to memorize in school, skip the list of historically contextual complaints against the king, and just focus on the end.

What would it take for the United States of America to once again "mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor," instead of so often thinking first and only of one's self, jealously clinging to one's own possessions, and fomenting divisiveness in the guise of dissent?

I guess that sounds pretty cynical, and I'm not - really. I am happy and proud to be a citizen of the United States of America and I celebrate the freedom that living in this country affords me. But neither am I naïve about people, some of whom take unjust advantage of their freedom for selfish gain at the expense of others.

Independence Day, for me, is a day to reclaim the revolutionary spirit. It is a day to remember that my rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are the same rights given all people. It is a day to celebrate freedom. And it is a day to once more pledge to one another our lives, our fortune, and our sacred honor.

Look at God's World

Psalm 8 seems to have a phrase missing. It reads

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars that you have established;
what are human beings that you are mindful of them,
mortals that you care for them?

Grammatically, it seems to me to lack a linking phrase that says why the initial observation leads to the subsequent question. The reader is left to infer the connection.

It might mean, "When I look up at all the stars that you made, it is so unbelievably big that it makes me feel small, so I wonder, what are we people worth to you?"

Or maybe, "When I look out into space, it seems so infinite compared to my finite experience, it makes me wonder how I could possibly matter at all."

Or it could be, "When I think about all of the beauty that you created, then realize how plain I am, how do I possibly compare to that?"

Or even, "The universes you created are unimaginably complex, and I am so simple by comparison, you must not think much of me."

But I think the best way to read it is just to leave the pause in there and just let our minds wander over it for a few moments before we go on: "God, when I think about the immensity of all you have made, every single star in the cosmos ... (pause) ... what are we to deserve your attention at all, let alone your love?"

It is a staggering claim, isn't it? To say that the One who created all that is has a particular concern for you and me is audacious! Maybe even impudent? And yet that is precisely the claim this Psalm makes. Not only that God pays attention to human beings, but it goes on to say that God elevates human beings to a kind of "favored creature status" by giving us the rest of creation to care for.

My prayer yesterday was, "Are you sure that's such a good idea, Lord?" I mean, we don't do so well at taking care of things given to us sometimes. If we need a power line there, it doesn't matter that a tree is growing in the same space, just cut apart the tree and make room for the power line. If we need a development there, it doesn't matter if there is a hill in the way, just flatten the hill to level the ground for the development. If we need more parking there, it doesn't matter that there is a beautiful green space in the way, just pave it over so we can cram more cars in.

Humanity's callousness with the environment lends even deeper incredulity to Psalm 8. "What are human beings, that you are mindful of us?" Truth be told, we're not all that great. I know that there are those who will minimize humanity's impact on the earth, and they have a retinue of scientists to quote that back up that viewpoint, just like there's a whole slew of scientists saying the opposite. But simple observational common sense goes a long way in this particular conversation. We simply don't do a good job of caring for the natural world a lot of the time.

It starts with looking. "When I look at ..." When was the last time you did that? When was the last time you just sat and looked at a tree, the stars, another person, birds at a bird bath, or something else in God's wonderful world? To look with no agenda other than observation is to begin understanding the pause in the middle of Psalm 8.

When I look ... What am I?

Cori's Random Thoughts On a Monday Afternoon

Hi! I like Pie!! Llamas are cool animals!!! Cow is a funny word! Pencils have erasers. French Frys are weird! Balloons are good to eat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! glue is sticky! how come fish don't have ears?! Wall - e. I don't like bacon. summer school is bad for you. hi! the world is round. Why R smily faces yellow? bubbles pop! hang ten!!!!!! 3 x 3 = 9!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 hi!

"Hunger Can Be a Positive Motivator" - My Thoughts

There has been a bit of a blow about Representative Cynthia Davis of the 19th District here in Missouri and her comments about a summer food program for low-income children.

Click here to read her remarks in full.

The catch phrase many are jumping on is, "Hunger can be a postive motivator." She actually wrote that line to emphasize that children who are at least 16 years old can get jobs during the summer to pay for food instead of getting it from this program. In fact, she helpfully points out that "If you work for McDonald's, they will pay you for free during your break." She is not talking about little kids, but teenagers.

So in context that line is a little less blatantly cold-hearted as it first appears. It is still pretty ignorant of conditions in the world. As if a bunch of 16 year olds not applying to work at McDonald's is the source of all poverty in our nation.

There's nothing really that shocking in her commentary, to tell you the truth. It is a pretty good summary of a conservative perspective on a social program. She doesn't like it. She thinks it represents the government trying to do too much. She thinks individuals should take more responsibility and rely on government less.

It's pretty standard fare, as far as that particular viewpoint is concerned. And it happens to be a viewpoint with which I disagree.

For example, she writes a couple of things that I have some pointed issues with. First, she writes, "I represent many fine families in District 19 and I am proud of all of them for doing what is best for their children." I wonder. There are no children that have to be taken into foster care in the 19th district? No neglect? No abuse? She really knows that all of them are doing what is best for their children? I'm sure it's not quite that simple. I mean, I think I know what she's trying to say there, but it is a statement with multiple interpretations. Like this one: she doesn't represent all the families in the district, only a percentage of them, only the "fine" ones who are taking care of the kids. As for the other families... I wonder who is representing them.

Later she writes, "Laid off parents could adapt by preparing more home cooked meals rather than going out to eat." Again, were it only that simple a solution. In her world, not going out to eat for meals and cooking at home instead works great, I'm sure. She writes a lot about the delicious strawberries that her family has. Wonderful. But not all that realistic. Poverty is insidius, and simply eschewing restaurant food in favor of grocery store food is not the answer.

Actually she confesses, "While I have not seen this as a problem in my district, it is entirely possible that this program is designed to address problems that exist in other parts of Missouri." So apparently Missouri District 19, which includes O'Fallon, St. Peters, and St. Charles, is immune from hunger issues. Again, that would be wonderful, but I am skeptical as to how realistic it is. And anyway, how selfish is it to not support something because it doesn't affect anyone you live close to, albeit you confess it might affect others? It would be a little like saying, "I know racism is an issue, but I only know white people so I'm not going to do anything about it."

So the bottom line of this deal is that Representative Davis's opinions are not scandalous or extreme. I think that they are a rather mainstream, party-line set of opinions for conservatives. I happen to disagree with her position, but many do not. (Although it seems to really, really irk Olbermann, which is a real kick in the pants.)

I've decided that I'm not going to waste much energy worrying about Rep. Davis, because I need all the energy I can muster to provide foster care for two kids whose mom was having a really hard time feeding them appropriately at the time they were taken into care.

The Power of a Touch

I love kids! I had such a great time at Vacation Bible School last week, hanging out with a couple hundred kids every morning, singing together, dancing, praying, laughing, joking, making faces, and sharing in the story of the Exodus.

Needless to say, there were times when things got a bit wild and crazy, but for the most part everything went quite smoothly. There were some times when an individual kid needed a bit of extra attention so as not to detract from the experience of the whole class. Sometimes this even involved one of the adult volunteers chasing a kid around or perhaps taking them out of the room.

But a few times, when a kid was creating a disruption during a time I was teaching, all I did was make my way over to where they were sitting, and calmly continue what I was doing while simply putting my hand on a shoulder. I just got close to them, didn't even make eye contact, and reached out to touch them.

In doing so, I was telling them, "I know you're here. I am acknowledging you, and I value your presence. You are a part of this group." I was giving them the attention that they were seeking without detracting from what the rest of the kids were doing. All of this was accomplished by simply touching them. And inevitably, the attention-seeker calmed down and the class carried on.

People have different comfort levels with touch. For some, it is a severe violation of personal boundaries to do more that shake hands. Some are much more comfortable with touch and will hug and hold hands and pat shoulders with no thought at all. So we must be very sensitive to individual responses. There is definitely "good touch" and "bad touch."

With that in mind, there is something very meaningful about human contact. I remember in pastoral care classes in seminary being taught that people in hospital beds with tubes and wires coming out of them all over the place are often longing for a simple touch, a hand to hold or a gentle pat on the shoulder. A touch can be a healing gesture.

There's a great story in the Gospel according to Mark about touch. It's actually two stories woven together, one about Jairus' daughter and the other about a woman with severe hemorrhages. The woman approaches Jesus from behind, reaches out, and touches just the hem of his clothes. She is immediately healed. Jesus then goes in to Jairus' house, reaches out, and takes his daughter by the hands. She is immediately revived from death.

In both cases, healing happens in the touch. There is a reason that a powerful emotional response is called feeling touched. Something miraculous happens in a good touch.

"Become Like Children"

Seems to me there's three parts ...

"Unless you change"

"Become like children"

"Enter the kingdom of heaven"

... of Matthew 18:3, the scripture I'm preaching about this Sunday. But it also seems to me that there is a whole boatload to say about each of those three parts. Like it could be a series of three sermons.

So I'm going with that middle part this week - "Become like children." In response to the disciples' question, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven," Jesus tells them that they're not even going to GET IN if they don't become like children. And as for being the "greatest"? Forget about it.

I read in a couple commentaries this week that in the time of Jesus, a child was most definitely not in a position of earthly greatness. Children were not valued intrinsically, they were considered property, they had neither power nor control. And yet in order to enter the kingdom of heaven, according to Jesus, this is the position that we must assume.

Now some people think "become like children" means be all innocent and pure. (Obviously these are people who do not have much experience with real live children.) I don't think so. That just wouldn't follow from the literary context. That interpretation doesn't make sense in response to the disciples' provoking question.

To yield all power and control of your life, to confess your utter dependence upon God, to become like children in not conforming to earthly definitions of power and success - these are the characteristics I believe Jesus was referring to in this passage. That matches up with other places where Jesus is teaching about the "greatest." The greatest is the least, the servant of all, the humble one.

I'm preparing this sermon in the middle of Vacation Bible School week, with 250 kids running all over the building. There has been all of the energy, excitement, and barely controlled chaos that usually accompanies VBS, and I am loving it. I have been reminded numerous times that I am not really in control of things!

I feel like when I am talking with the kids, I am definitely entering the kingdom of heaven.

Economic Quiz Answer

Yesterday I asked about the significance of this dollar amount:

$3,036,258,899

There were some fantastic guesses. Thanks for playing. Unfortunately, no one came up with the right answer, so no one will take home the cornucopia of prizes I had prepared.

My addition might be wrong, but I looked at this list of Major League Baseball salaries for 2009 and added them up. I just added once and may have missed a million or two, but according to that sloppy research (of which I am quite proud), that amount represents the sum total of the MLB payrolls for this season.

Three BILLION, thirty-six MILLION, two hundred fifty eight THOUSAND, eight hundred ninety nine dollars.

Starting with the Yankees whose payroll is $201,449,289, an average of $7,748,050 per player, and down to the lowly Florida Marlins, who shell out a measly $36,814,000 for their team, on which each player scrapes by on just $1,314,786 on average. (Poor guys, how do they manage?)

Okay - let me just say that I really am a baseball fan and I am not bashing professional sports or anything. So this is definitely not an anti-sports thing.

I just think it kind of puts things in perspective somehow. I'm still working out exactly how. Three billion dollars. I'm just saying ... that's a lot of dollars.