Sigh

Is it fair to blame God for life being unfair? Scripturally, the answer is, "No."

I had just posted my blog entry a minute ago and got news seconds later that part of the thing that circumstantially looked promising, crashed to a grinding halt.

My Aunt Doris passed away this weekend. Her faith was so strong before she died. I don't think I'd seen it stronger in my 35 years. I saw a picture of her from this summer with a whimsical grin and motion. I thought I had invented it. Wild how our whole being can influence people in ways we don't imagine.

Expectations are such an interesting thing - we seem to be held highly accountability for the ones we posses and also for the ones we lack.

And in the segments and incongruities, there are moments of solitude, praise, and the deepest of adoration. It's not supposed to make sense...

It goes both ways

Matt. 6:34 - Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

This evening I felt the Lord saying, "It goes both ways." I was having a good day and circumstantially there were things thats looked like they may be lining up the way I had hoped. Who knows, but today I was hopeful and I was expressing it praise. But then I had sorrow because my communication with the Lord isn't as consistent when I'm down. I was dwelling on this and that is when the Lord said, "It goes both ways."

Sure, I could dwell on the past and even lament that in the future there are likely to be many times when I fail at my love for Him. But if we take this command seriously, don't be anxious about tomorrow, how can we then be anxious about the past? In both cases, we focus on what's not there, not in worship of the King.

Truth and painting

In one of my seminary classes we were shown a number of paintings of Jesus. They were paintings that Paul Tillich enjoyed. I don't recall why, but midway through, one of the students began a tirade on how Euro-centric the paintings were, how "white" Jesus was in them, and how inaccurate the whole mess of them were. I have to admit that my thoughts were along similar lines, "Why can't we see true presentations of the historical Jesus? Do we continue to do injustice to people of color by the insistence of our images that Jesus is white?" The professor calmly said, "We all experience Jesus as our own race and we all make distortions of what God is doing in our lives. These paintings are as truthful as anything we can experience." I could get my arms around that.

In another class the professor asked if we would prefer a photograph or painting to represent us. My first thought was a painting because it could offer insights into me that a photo never could. Then I got nervous - what if others see something so hideous that I don't in myself? Or perhaps they would represent me as less flawed, flattening some of the curves? He was using this analogy to interpreting scripture. In many respects we have other's paintings to point the way to the important things of God. In a sense part of our responsibility as lovers of God is to paint a picture within culture and context; within a cosmic relationship. And isn't there something more real about this than just a static document?

Truth in content trumps truth in form

I wonder if God intended the Bible to be used to develop a meta-narrative? I find that I choose the story and have the Bible fit into it. Perhaps this is a form of idolatry or as Tillich would say, "demonic." I wonder if our task is more like Jesus' interaction with Peter, a life of "Who do you say I am?" To trust God that I don't have to have all of the answers until each is needed (Luke 21:14). And all the while to be able to articulate the journey and related hope within me as predicated on God's holiness/separateness/beyondness (1Pet. 3:15). Look, I just meta-narrative-ized again...

I was watching a segment of a television program featuring a famous Christian author as the moderator. He was interviewing a porn minister and a porn movie producer. The format was like CNN's CrossFire or other shows where they let two opposing views duke it out. It was obvious within 30 seconds that the format was a sham - this show had a message and it was going to manipulate the situation to get it across at any cost. From its perspective, it was going to use whatever means possible to minister to the lost who happened to tune in. Truth in content trumps truth in form: ends justify means: function disconnects from form.

Ironically, the porn producer was asking better questions and seemed more honest. Both the moderator and porn minister were obviously sincere and passionate, but kept having to come back to Christian cliches, where the porn producer was really grappling. At one point the minister said something along the lines of, "But Jesus tells us in the Bible that to lust is to sin. It is the same as adultery." And the producer was dumbfounded, "That's in the Bible? Really?!" Both the minister and moderator smile at his good hearted ignorance and in that moment stop listening. They have found the hook to speak their message, prove their point, affirm the truth as truth. But his grappling was not so much that he was "caught," it was, "How could God allow us to be so deficient?" He could care less what the Bible said. His question generally can't be asked in Christianity and it wasn't answered by the moderator or minister. They came back with the meta-narrative. Adam and Eve sinned, so now all are under sin. OK, but this guy wants to understand how his conception (one that most Christians would agree with) of God as all-powerful and loving could hold him responsible for a "design flaw." At least Paul had the guts to ask the same question rhetorically, but he refused to answer and instead blamed the imaginary questioner (the created shouldn't be asking questions of accountability to the Creator - it's inherently wrong - Rom. 9:20).

As all humans, the porn producer was probably a mixture of motives and he too had a message. But in one moment there was an exposed belly saying, "Please be honest with me. Treat me like a reasonable person who wants to live a good life. Don't give me the pat answers I heard in Sunday school. Push me toward truth, that's OK. Challenge my integrity where it's lacking, that's OK. But don't insult me with an answer when we both know there isn't a satisfying one."

I guess I'm concerned that much of Christianity sees the message as distinct from its delivery or form. We have bought into incongruities as faults. We clean and consolidate the message helping it fit better - it's deep within the Christian experience. I get catalogs from various Christian bookstores and outlets with thousands of nick-knacks, paintings, plaques, books, etc. that are so polished and pretty, they resemble little of the original substance because their form is so distorted. When did a manger become a lovely, well-ambient lighted paradise? When did psychology become gospel (literally)? When did Jesus become recognizable, stately, even cute/studley, in his crucifixion? When did good art become cottages with light unnaturally penetrating their environment? We act as if our message has essence and purity unto itself and don't hold ourselves accountable to the form. We use principles of consumerism to express the life of God and then wonder why it's viewed as just another alternative.

Daily Office origins encapsulated

Recently I was reading about the origins of the Daily Office. It is based on the Romans introducing centralized time to the middle east. Each three hours starting at 6 a.m. would receive a chime from a central clock to make sure work was progressing effectively. Jews quickly incorporated the chimes as calls to prayer using passages in Psalms that talk about praising God seven times a day. Of course early Christianity saw itself as authentic Judaism and carried the practice on. As the New Testament became known within the church and ideas such as "praying with out ceasing" were introduced, this practice became even more important. As the church began to expand to multiple time zones and eventually around the world, there was a sense that one congregation's prayer would dove tail into another's creating a perpetual rhythm of prayer and praise. The prayer was refined over the years to a form of liturgy and became known as the Daily or Divine Office. The word "office" referring to work, not place. So the early church saw communion and the Daily Office as the two staples of Christian existence.

As I participate in the Daily Office again I can understand how the church perceived this to be its "work." While it risks legalism in the same way that free-form worship risks disorder, it creates a web of interactions with the Lord and integrations between the Lord and the tangible world I am in. This allows for the grounding of all of these relationships, harmonies, and incongruities together in time and space. Faith becomes a little more concrete for a few moments and those moments hopefully influence all that is around.

Curtains

Over the last few months each morning I've thought about the rhythms we have. This summer I put in drapes and shears in the large living room window, something I have looked forward to for years, but as a renter never felt comfortable doing. I look back at how my grandmother would open the drapes each morning in a single lightening-fast movement, "Let's not wait to start the day!"

As darkness was coming there was a negotiation of when to actual resign that the day had ended. Twilight? Just after? Complete darkness or at least when the street lights came on? As the decision was made, the curtains were drawn in quickly again. "Don't linger in what isn't!"

And so, my grandmother was a master at disciplining her day and the curtains in many respects provided tangible bookends. There was time for cleaning, cooking, working, eating, family moments, reading or crafts, more cleaning, and bed. The copper got polished, the dusting got done, sickness interrupted and receded, and each day the curtains revealed and then concealed. Each day life lived.

Good morning

Christianity changing

I'm between two congregations. In one I get to help form the culture and participate in leadership, and the other I am mostly an engaged congregant who serves in a few ministries. I'm struggling with the mother church. The preaching seems more angry and reactionary. I leave room that it hasn't changed, that I have, but the reality is probably that we both have over the eight years I've been there. There is a sense that the topics are eternal and found throughout the "biblical church" since its infancy, but much of it is pop psychology that has been wrapped in Christian language and fitted between biblical lines. We use language such as "application-based" and "practical preaching" to shape this type of approach. It is based on Baby Boomer/New Age life assumptions and openly talked about in the seeker churches. These topics have become common sense within conservative culture and so there is comfort in them. Jesus is preached, but there are as much seeker ideas and rantings against liberalism, philosophy, and academia. I'm not reacting against it because I believe Gad has/is using it, but I guess I'm reacting against its claim of historical authenticity.

Yesterday, I heard a famous Baptist radio preacher use concepts from the Word of Faith movement. He didn't hear the whisper that the strength of your faith is a defining characteristic of what and how much you have. It made me smile because he would be appalled if he knew. Many of the conservative Bible scholars who are thought to find the Bible to be "innerrant" actually claim that the original, lost manuscripts were inerrant, but not necessarily the cannon we have today. In the last 10 years the language from Christianity on homosexuality has shifted from the debate on nature Vs. nurture to often agreement that homosexuals don't want to be attracted to the same sex and there are factors from birth that can impact this. Even in the most conservative churches divorce is rarely raised except in therapeutic terms because most of the leadership has experienced it. Grassroots Christians wanting to impact the U.S. for Jesus have become an established political movement that's first priority has subtlely shifted from justice issues to self-preservation.

Though it seems to be heresy, Christianity evolves. The first century church experienced God differently than we do. We like the idea that Jesus birthed the church in its full understanding to the disciples and it has been simply growing ever since. But I can't buy into the model so simplistically any more. I guess my concern is that I don't hear people interested in how the Spirit might work through this process, instead they seem to be more steadfast in putting their head in the sand and screaming, "This is as it has always been!"

Shield

This morning's daily office invokes Christ as our shield. I had a variety of random thoughts on this: a picture of him in a protective stance over my body, a filter or lens to perceive life, whispering important, comforting things which no one else could hear, permanence in a posture that can't be kept forever without missing the rest of life. I rejected the idea of a force field - that lacked life and intimacy. I could picture a weathered bronze sculpture of a man with a disproportionately large torso covering his friend, as to protect him from scrapnel or sniper.

Thank you, Lord for glimpses and pauses.

Roots and evil

What a startling statement, "The love of money is the root of all evil." How definitive. Want to know the start, impetus, origin of evil? It's the love of money. And we stop there. Maybe we correct people who go around saying, "Money is the root of all evil." Then we stop there.

Think about it. Rape, poverty, gluttony, murder, idolatry, manipulation, deceit, and the root of all evil is money. Fascinating.

In Perelandra, C.S. Lewis had me do a double take with this phrase. A re-look that swung my head around as I was strolling in full stride. What a beautiful thinker! He wonders if it's because money has the temptation and allure of keeping us from the tirade of chance, or allows us to think we can redo elements of life that really can't be lived again. I wondered if this love adds to our distances in life. Money as a concept, a lover, allows us to disconnect from land, animal, and a direct relationship of our hand/activity to the fruits of life. It introduces systems and complexity that defy nature.

But, still isn't it an odd statement if looked at from fresh eyes? I think I would have preferred if it was greed, theft, or selfishness that was the root. Love of money makes me have to think...

Chime clock

A few days ago the weights on my chime clock came to their last, lowest position possible and it stopped. The chains on it are designed to keep time for seven days and they had done due diligence. But as the momentum of those chain pulls was coming to an end, the clock needed adjustment. When the weather changes it may need to be sped up or slowed down a bit. The pendulum weight is brought closer to the body for speed or out into the world for leisure. Humidity, temperature, or sometimes I think the mystery of seasons changing impacts it. It's an interesting process and in a small way helps keep me connected to time. That time needs to be cared for and looked at as a subject unto itself is often missed. The chime clock "chimes" on the half hour. In the middle of a movie, the emotion is always annoyance. But then, the context of the movie is changed. It is within time and I'm responsible for that time. That's a blessing.

This clock was purchased in the home town my mom was born in. It is the same model that she experienced growing up. When she came to the U.S. so did the clock. I knew it until I was seven or eight when it was stolen along with everything else of any value one winter. Sometimes I wonder how she found connections with time. Growing up she joked that she would never make it to age 40. She didn't, dying at 39. May we all take those things that make time important just a little more seriously "today."

A little encounter

On the beach this weekend, the cross was the subject of graffiti. On a beautiful stone thrust from the ocean was an ornate cross painted in silver sparkling spray paint. This was one of the last boulders pushed here from a huge glacier covering most of the U.S. at one point. I was in a prayerful place and the words came through loud and clear, "Perhaps the problem is that we decorate our crosses." I laughed, because I rarely use definitives like "the problem." So there was truth in the statement and an subtle indictment that I look for the quick understandings...

What happens when the crosses we bear become jewel-filled and made of precious metals? What happens when they are simply functional, torture devices. Designed to splinter, discourage comfort and breath, and capable of no message other than a cursed death?

I was moved by this painting of Orozco. Perhaps Jesus is ticked at what we've done to the cross...

Grappling

I sometimes wonder which is more real the Kingdom or the immediate. I know, I know we are post-modern so let's say "and" instead of "or." But I think most approach it this way. Do we look at life from a perspective of progress or decay? Ironically, my tradition sees both, selectively. It says that Jesus is coming again in triumph and celebrates the decay of society to justify its eschatology. It says that the Kingdom is advancing and cites statistics of why the world is going to hell in a handbasket. It wouldn't be so bad if it would honestly say that it's speculating. No, the Israelis entering Lebanon is the start of Armageddon; for sure. Wait, the original Gulf War was the prophetic event including Apache helicopters that were prophesied in Revelation.

I sat in a Roman Catholic church yesterday while protestants fumed at the inaccurate theology being homolized. I admit that it struck me as sad that the sum of existence, the sum of God, was being a nice person to the priest. "Reflect and keep going" was his mantra, with nothing to reflect on except the symbols found in infant baptism. He spoke of faith, but there wasn't anything to have faith in except the government of the church. Jesus was a good luck emblem that was mysteriously consumed each week to fight off infection. But then we believe alter calls are found in the Bible and can't really figure out what to do with humanity prior to Jesus. We say the world is without excuse when each individual in judged yet feel guilt for not spreading the word quickly enough to keep people from hell. These are among the most important issues we can imagine and yet we don't grapple with their unknown qualities or incongruities or celebrate their mystery.

I am at dis-ease with my faith. It's not lost and it's not hurt. I'm just seeing inconsistencies and wondering how important they are. Perhaps the core of my faith is as strong, if not stronger than it ever has been, but a number of beliefs I count as faith have been held out with some speculation. My pastor made the claim today that his sermon was the word of God and that any discomfort with it meant we were being influenced by the Devil. This sounds cartoonish and disrespectful, but it's meant to be neither. What he said was biblical. It was practical and if followed would yield good fruit. Yet, I am confident that if he were giving the message to first century Christians, pieces of it would be unsettling. There would be elements that were so establish, it wouldn't be worth saying. There would be assumptions and cultural realities that wouldn't translate. There would be faith assumptions that came about through reading the Bible individually rather than collectively that wouldn't make sense. American dream-ism and consumerism as realities would pop-up as huge red flags. And yet, we are certain.

Below is an excerpt from an unbelieving man. He uses the Bible to try to make sense of history from a non-specific perspective. He is jaded and doesn't believe that it offers any hope other than the cycles of history being predictable. He doesn't believe in redemption, but I found myself meditating on his kingdom thoughts and wondering how honest we are in our relation to the Kingdom; in our understanding and participating in it:

I can smell the rotten blood seeping out of the wet ground. It is everywhere because of all the conquests. And it is here, also. We live in a world where eventually all the temples go to the torch, all the people go to spend time in Babylon, and the kingdom is never restored. This last is the rub. We keep licking this sore in our mouths and telling ourselves the kingdom will be restored. I part from Isaiah on this matter. I think we are already in the kingdom, ready or not. (Isaiah by Charles Bowden in Killing the Buddha...)

And the Kingdom is always the rub. How it is defined, who defines it, if it is there and simply needs to be found or is unfolding like a sheet in parallel to history. We were born into our story and ultimately are responsible for much of how it turns out. We have to grapple with realities bigger than the collective church can handle and ancient ways of God that really do make sense of the world. Instead of grappling we are told to memorize the script. We are told it never changes. Is this how St. Paul saw the faith - a series of orthodox belief statements to be held up and distanced from the world? In making disciples of all nations is Jesus saying we are supposed to tell the script as the truth rather than simply compelling the people to him so he can say whatever it is he wants? Do I trust that God has the world under his care sufficiently or do I need to programmize the believing process, package it, have it consumed, and feel good that that is enough?

The Bible came about ~300 years after Jesus. The Word became print in the 1400's and became ingrained as the primary means of knowing God and fighting heresy after the 1500's. In the 1500's Tyndale published a Bible for the people to free them. He was condemned, strangled, and burned because his Bible was considered too anti-clerical. In the 1600's politics interacted with scripture and the King James Version was born. The church has always had to grapple and sadly I fear that this reality, this beautiful gift, has become heresy to my tradition. Perhaps we are all a bit more like the pharisees than we would like to admit.

Blessings

It is early on Wednesday. There's a long day ahead and there is still illness from behind. I should sleep, but my mind is in one of those states where it is racing. There is no harmony between body and mind right now. It's OK.

Dear Lord,

May those in my life, on the periphery of my life, who should be in my life be blessed. I pit grace against sin and I see darkness where there is an unfinished work. But beyond my hang-ups and lack, please bless. Please bless the singles that feel so lost and the marrieds that feel so lonely. The children that they be granted grace to resist complacency and pessimism. For the infants that they live strongly and courageously. To the elderly who are dimming. May they sense your embrace from behind and realize the closeness that youth can never predict in You. May they smell you deeply as they bury their tired heads in your forearms and let tears and joy become part of You. I pray for two new born churches and their pastors. Peace, wisdom, good humor, and marriage that is more satisfying than fine crafted wine that was thought to be lost. Bring in the people. Virtue and creativity abound. For those who have just lost their siblings and those who just lost their virginity. Strength.

Lord, I ask for today to be important. It has the potential for some uniqueness, but by and large it may be one that is tempted to be immemorial. I pray that my actions and heart be congruent with Your being today.

May I sleep soon.

There is much to thank You for. I leave that to the realm of silence for now. Not in laziness or slumber, but in testimony that Your acts of wonder can't be contained in all the media of the world.

I love You and submit this prayer in Jesus' set-apart, unique character and being... Amen.

Tinniness painted blues, grays, and pinks

There is a tinniness to sin. It distorts and numbs our lives and those around us. A smile without motive is impossible in our implicit acts of distance or our defiance to love. "...to hurt is to steal..., get on your knees boy."

Picture a woman in tears, her back is bare to you and you can see the surrender of her spine. Each disc testifies to the shallowness of her torso. Her form is lacking clarity. It's not tender and if you were honest it makes you mad. Why so vulnerable? Why so present and beautiful even in anguish? Rage as your actions become lives of their own coming back as glaring slivers of indictment. Her being is in question and you are to blame.

Our sin shapes us. It contorts those we love and those we never gave a damn about, but should have loved. We pretend and pass out shades of blue and hues of light pinks and grays. Just paint my accuser's eyes twilight blue and I can pretend; I can live an unredeemed life. I will paint and paint and paint until my hand finds no strength left. At some point there most be permanence in the color. My accuser outlasts my hand and his glare seeps through my pastel attempts. He doesn't even have to use lies, he just takes my energy and reveals my bareness. The deceiver has more truth than me.

We comfort ourselves with repentance as a spatial act of sufficiency. I did it again - forgive and forget. It's hard work living a life of repentance and let's be honest we all reach pretty shallow to touch the sluggard within. I can't be held responsible for the curve of her spine or the ravines of sadness under his eyes. Erosion makes washes in the desert, not me. Existentially, we are made of our decisions, the response just before the reaction. That moment that separates us from animals and offers new imagination and breath. She can straighten and clothe. Yes and hear the words that follow slowly, deliberately, and distinctly graceless - God will not be mocked.

Salvation and triangulation

A young man recently was remarking how amazing a women he had found was. She was perfect in every way except that she believed "once saved, always saved." I offered reasons why this approach to salvation was solid, he didn't bite. In his mind this was essentially heresy. Today I read in Hebrews a passage that sounds like a person could lose their salvation. But I had no passion to refute it. It is. I will come across many that talk about God's unending faithfulness, mercy, and grace. I will come across many that make the relationship conditional, contractual. David could fail in almost all respects of his faith and humanity and walk away clean; Saul could try to bolster morale for his troops and honor God in presumption and be banished from his Father's love for the rest of his life (and after?). I submit to the unknowing and am coming to appreciate it. I used to approach the Bible from a "triangulation" perspective - find multiple verses among multiple books (a range in OT and NT preferable) that speak what I want and then feel good about my theology. Now, I realize that there are pieces that will probably never align in my mind and it's OK. Perhaps the fragmentation is partial testimony to God's holiness and his being "other than" us? Who am I?