Posts tagged ‘Community’
A wrench in the plans
Our transition to Pennsylvania seemed to be going so smoothly. Packing was well underway. Job and church obligations were being wrapped up in Illinois. I was counting the days until the move, the house closing, and the last day of work.
And then about two weeks ago, the house sale fell apart.
The house appraised for far less than the agreed-on price. The buyer’s financing would no longer work, but there seemed to be possibilities for saving the deal. But those didn’t work out. But there were other options, and the deal was back on. And then in one stunning and brilliant display of confusion, the buyers’ agent said that the buyers wanted the house and were pursuing alternative financing at nearly the same time that their attorney said that the deal was “null and void”.
Ever since, I’ve think I’ve been going through the stages of grief. The anger bothered me the most…
- Anger at the appraiser for doing a bad job (which we shall not be discussed here);
- Anger at FHA appraisals for not having an easy way to challenge them;
- Anger at the people who could challenge them for being unwilling to do so;
- Anger at the buyers’ agent and attorney for confusing messages and apparent lack of concern;
- Anger at our agent and attorney for their inability to help save the deal;
- Anger that my family had planned our move date to accommodate the deal and that we’d now be needlessly apart for two and a half weeks;
- Anger at myself for being so angry.
That last one was the most significant. Life goes on. My family is healthy. We have food and shelter. We have love. We don’t lack anything.
And yet, it took me days to feel anything except the anger. (And fear. I guess there was fear, as well.)
I really didn’t like that side of me. It felt ugly. And I hated to admit my weakness. During that struggle, I was reminded of the classic spiritual discipline of asking oneself, “Where have I seen God today?” I confessed to one of my friends, “Sometimes we only observe God in God’s absence.”
In the midst of all of that, we traveled to Laurelville for the spring gathering of its association members. It was a trip that we would have made, even if we weren’t moving there. Jane Hoober Peifer was the featured speaker for the weekend. I was too distracted to remember much of what she said, but at some point she spoke about anxiety and gratitude. Sometimes when fear is too great, we have to take small steps. We remind ourselves that God has given us what we need for this minute… or maybe this hour or day. And when we have learned that, we can begin to think about the week or month. Eventually, we can rest fully in God’s care. I’m trying to do that now. So let me conclude by with some gratefulness…
- At the darkest point in all of this, one friend (the one to whom I confessed God’s apparent absence) didn’t try to rationalize things or to cheer me up. She simply heard me and gave me a hug.
- This past weekend, my family packed our things (with lots of help from friends) and moved everything to Laurelville. Being there helped me put things into perspective.
- In the last couple of days, our house has gone back on the market. Already we have a showing for today and another for tomorrow.
- One of the children from church made me a bracelet as a going-away present. She gave it to me last Saturday as we loaded the moving van. Last night, I returned to Illinois from Laurelville in order to finish my work at Argonne. In a moment of depression as I moved about the house that used to be my home, I encountered the bracelet. Like a hug without words, it reminds me of the love of my community.
Small glimmers of hope that help me to move forward.
I’m surrounded by love.
Like this:
Here we are all in one place…
I got to go to a Carrie Newcomer concert last night! It was awesome.
The trip was really a spur-of-the-moment decision (almost). I was on-call for work, but the concert was free and was as close as Carrie would be performing for a long time. So I decided to go, even though I had to go alone.
Here are a few photos from the evening:
Today, I was thinking about writing a few blog entries reflecting on the intersection of music and theology in my life. Such a series would necessarily include a number of Carrie’s songs. I don’t know if I’ll get around to adding more songs, but I thought I could at least throw out a short reflection on the song that she did as an encore last night. This is at the very core of what I believe.
Betty’s Diner by Carrie Newcomer
This song is about the mish-mash of souls that pass through a joint known as Betty’s Diner. It reminds me of one of the places I might have seen when I lived on Long Island. Miranda is the waitress at the diner, and she knows how to feed the body and soul at the same time. She sees people dreaming of the future, mourning the death of a spouse, fighting addiction, falling in love… basically, the stuff of life.
Here we are all in one place
The wants and wounds of the human race
Despair and hope sit face to face
When you come in from the cold
Let her fill your cup with something kind
Eggs and toast like bread and wine
She’s heard it all so she don’t mind
Every time I hear this song, I think that it might be a picture of what Church should look like. There is so much wrapped up in those words: love, community, and becoming the body of Christ to one another. I think that I like it, because it reminds me of my creed:
I believe in love, lived in the context of community.
Maybe it really is just that simple: could I pour you another cup of coffee?
Thoughts on Faith, May 2011: Part VII (Theology and real life)
It’s the end of May, so I better bring this series of random thoughts on faith to an end.
What is the point of all this musing? I’ve come up with this: Theology is worthless if it doesn’t motivate me to act on what I believe. Brian McLaren discusses this and equates orthodoxy with practice in his book, A Generous Orthodoxy:
This book can rightly be accused of blurring that distinction between orthodoxy and orthopraxy. Absurdly (to some at least) this book seems to approach orthodoxy as a tool or means to achieve orthopraxy…
In sum, this book sees ortopraxy as the point of orthodoxy.
Interestingly, I recently read that early Christians would have done things in an order opposite that of what we usually do. Tony Jones writes:
One thing that’s intriguing to note, and easy to lose sight of two millennia later, is that in the very earliest church, practice begat doctrine. That is, the early church didn’t convene theological conferences to debate the nature of the godhead and then spin out a practice of prayer.
Instead, it’s clear in the earliest Christian documents that the people prayed, and out of their experience of God’s nearness did they develop doctrinal beliefs regarding who God is and how God acts.
So what do I believe, and how should I act? About a year ago, I blogged about my creed:
I believe in love, lived out in the context of community.
And what does this have to do with all of these thoughts? I’ve been writing about atonement, Rob Bell’s book (Love Wins), and universalism, among other things. Sometimes, I seriously consider (or even embrace) ideas that are unorthodox (at least within some streams of Christianity). But it all comes down to this: I’m finding that the love of God, demonstrated in the life of Jesus, is bigger than I could possibly imagine. I’m tired of subtly being motivated by fear – fear of hell, fear of my own failure, fear that the kingdom of God is irrelevant to today’s world. I’m ready to embrace something bigger. To re-quote Bell…
What you discover in the Bible is so surprising and unexpected and beautiful that whatever we’ve been told or taught, the Good News is actually better than that – better than we can ever imagine.
The Good News is that love wins.
P.S. Greg Boyd provides a summary of all of this: “The Heresy of Failing to Love“
Thoughts on Faith:
Small steps in merging faith and life
In my ongoing struggle to merge faith and belief with career, occupation, and life in general, I recently received a little answer to prayer.
I’ve written about this struggle previously, but I kept wandering/wondering without direction. Then, a friend from my congregation wrote some thoughts on her blog that really spoke to my feelings of both hope and despair…
A very big conviction of mine is something I don’t even engage in. The P-word…..Poverty. I read about it, cry at stories in the media, worry about the excess in my own life, wonder if we’re giving enough money to church & charity and dream about living in a “new monastic” community yet I continue to sit here in my comfortable suburban home, carting my kids to soccer & classes & friends’ houses, planning vacations & going to church on Sunday. It just doesn’t add up.
So where do I go from here? Hmmmm. Good question. And I pray.
Just reading that was, in some sense, a relief. There are other people who are struggling the same way that I do. (And not just “other people”, but rather my friends!) So I left a comment and exchanged some emails and we’re trying to figure out how to continue this discussion. I’m hopeful for what might come out of this conversation.
Disjointed thoughts on community and resurrection
Today, my congregation welcomed four new people into membership. Rather than a traditional sermon, each of the four shared testimonies. This was a very rich time, and story telling is such an integral part of passing on faith.
At the same time, I realized that these times of sharing have the potential to be quite awkward. What if the story-teller is nervous? What if someone’s theology doesn’t quite match what the congregation generally believes?
And then I thought…
God forbid that we become a community where stories can’t be shared; or where we insist on homogeneity of belief; or where we can’t offer a safe place to be vulnerable and to grow as Jesus’ disciples.
A safe place, a shelter, a haven…
There are times when I’m very saddened by my congregation. Of course, there are the current challenges of discerning what we want to do about LGBTQ membership. In the back corner of my brain, I always have this lurking fear that there will always be someone in my community (as I broadly define it) that won’t feel welcome in my congregation.
And then today, I was talking with someone who was feeling criticized (rather than supported) because of a particularly hard parenting challenge.
Oh, God – why can’t we offer a haven to each other?
Frankly, there are times when I feel something a bit like despair. How do I maintain hope when I can’t see any possible way to get from where I am to where I want to be? Recently, I began reminding myself, “I believe in the resurrection.”
And here’s where things get disjointed. This video is cheesy and highly produced, and yet I appreciate it. I first saw it last year, and remembered it again yesterday.
“He isn’t here!” Well, you didn’t see that coming, did you?
More on community…
Last Sunday, before my family left on vacation, I posted my sermon on the topic of community. One issue that I didn’t address is how to know when God is leading you (or me!) to a new community.
That’s because I don’t really have a good answer.
There have been a few times when I’ve wished I could move on… hit the road… search for greener pastures. Grad school was one of those times. In fact, I would bet that most grad students experience that urge about four years in to their program (assuming that their program is going to last six or seven years). And that’s when it’s important to have a good community around you, because your community (in my case, it was my wife) will tell you that you’re trying to change communities for the wrong reasons.
But what if it really is time to change community? How do you know?
I guess that my best answer is to test things within your community. (Yes – I realize that seems a bit circular.) Talk things over with the people you trust. See if they sense the same leading that you hear. You might use the Jesuit practice of observing feelings of consolation and desolation. And then act in faith, knowing that grace is always available for both right and wrong choices.
In my own life, I’ve sensed for a while that there will be a time when I’ll no longer be in science and will instead focus on a job the involves some kind of Church-related ministry. I think that Ordinary Spouse has a similar sense about her own life. And we note with some interest that we seem to be growing together, serving the Church in similar or complimentary ways, and walking along similar paths spiritually. But we also have a sense that now is not the time when we are to be making changes in our lives, and we are confident that when that time comes, it will be apparent. That’s the sense of consolation that I mentioned above.
One more story about community… a story that occurred the day before I was to preach my sermon. We have developed – not quite a friendship, let’s call it an “acquaintanceship” – with an Indian family that lives on a nearby court. It started because their oldest son rides the bus with our girls. Well, they recently celebrated the birth of their third son and invited us to come to a three-week-old celebration. It was going to be a bit hectic for us, since the party happened the day after Ordinary Spouse returned home after a week away with the girls, one day before my sermon, and two days before our whole family left on vacation.
Well, we arrived and found out that this wasn’t just a small “come and go” party, but was a bit of an event. (I still haven’t fully grasped the significance, but I think that it involved the naming of the child, which occurs after three weeks in that particular culture.) And so, it was going to chew up a good chunk of the afternoon. I started to grumble (in my head) about how I didn’t have time for this, and then realized… my sermon was meant for me.
This is my community.
Thank God for being humbled.
Finding Community
This morning at my congregation I’m giving the message – the first one that I’ve ever shared there. My message is drawn from my reflections on the lectionary readings for today, especially the gospel: Isaiah 65.1-9, Galatians 3.23-29, and Luke 8.26-39. Here’s what I’m sharing (placed after the jump, due to its length)…
What am I focusing on?
Back in January at the Music and Worship Leaders’ Retreat at Laurelville, Brian McLaren shared a wise and cautionary statement with the participants:
What we focus on [in scripture] determines what we miss.
I think that the natural tendency of someone hearing that statement (especially if that someone is me) is to say, “Ah-ha! You see – you are looking at the Bible in a different way, so you don’t understand my point.” And that, of course, would immediately underscore Brian’s warning to be aware of your own blindness. In fact, if I remember correctly, this same warning was given a long time ago with a slightly different phrasing:
Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, “Let me take the speck out of your eye”, while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.
Matthew 7.3-5
I’ve been trying to live with this warning. It’s not that I have concerns with what I’m focusing on, but I do realize that sometimes my thinking drifts away from what might be defined as “orthodoxy”. And since Anabaptists are big on understanding scripture within community, I should at least be honest with my differences and open my thoughts to critique.
In that light, this is how I find my focus directed these days:
I understand God’s word in the light of God’s Word – In other words, I interpret scripture through the primary lens of the ministry of Jesus. How did Jesus live? How can I emulate that?
What are our lenses? – I mentioned the lens of Christ’s ministry, but I think that there are others – our cultural perspective, the writer’s context, and so on.
New Testament vs. Old Testament – I focus on the New Testament. I think that I understand the Old Testament in a more contextual, as opposed to authoritative, sense. (I keep turning that over in my brain, but I’m influenced by the instructions to the new Gentile believers that Paul talks about in Galatians. They weren’t asked to submit to the requirements of the old covenant. They were simply asked to act with compassion toward the needs in the community.)
Scripture as narration vs. dictation – Is the Bible a set of words transmitted from God to paper, or is it the unfolding story of God’s people and their understanding of God? I lean toward the latter.
Grace vs. holiness – Or, what do we do with gray areas of life? Are we so afraid of getting our hands dirty that we isolate ourselves from the world? Jesus hung out with everyone. As Martin Luther said, “Sin boldly.” Allow grace to be amazing.
A God of peace – I’m thinking quite a bit about a God who isn’t violent. And in turn, I’m thinking about a non-violent atonement vs. the popular penal substitutionary theory.
Well – that’s at least an initial list of how my focus may differ from that of other Christians. Have at it, folks. Am I a heretic yet?
I believe…
For a couple of years, I have been meaning to write out a personal creed – my “Confession of Faith in a Mennonite Perspective“, if you will. I even started outlining a document about ten years ago. As I recall, I got about a paragraph into a rough draft. Oh, well.
But a funny thing started happening recently. I started refining (in the back of my mind) my belief statement, and it has gotten progressively more focused and concise. Ironically, the more concise my statement, the more challenging I found it to be. Living faithfully is hard.
My thoughts crystalized this past Sunday, as I was flipping through a recent issue of Christianity Today. The cover story was entitled, “The Mind under Grace: Why a Heady Dose of Doctrine Is Crucial for Spiritual Formation“. I read that and said to myself: “I don’t think I agree with that.” And so, in light of those thoughts, I present my creed:
I believe in love, lived out in the context of community.
That’s it. I could expand and expound on that, of course. (And I do all the time on this blog.) But really, I’m starting to think that everything else can (and should) be interpreted in light of that statement. I think that when the “heady dose of doctrine” becomes crucial to being faithful, we risk spending too much time arguing and too little time doing (the “lived out” part of my creed).
However, in case you are skeptical, I’ll conclude with two questions that help me:
1) What is love?
2) What is my community?
If you need a “heady dose of doctrine”, just dwell on those for a while.
Candle making
I took today off and began the Thanksgiving holiday one day early today. Our family was invited to a day of candle making at the home of couple from our congregation. The wife teaches kindergarten and didn’t have today off, so the husband did all of the hosting today. We had an awesome time.
One of the things that is really special is that our host is a good teacher, so he took the time to show the girls how to do things correctly and safely (hot wax on the stove). Also, he has been making candles for forty years now, but he still enjoys seeing how each candle turns out. His encouragement makes the girls feel proud of what they created. Everyone enjoys the time.
(And a well-timed “Elmo’s World” on TV didn’t hurt when attention spans got a little short. We spent the whole day!)
Anyway, here are the fruits of our labors today…
Ordinary Spouse made one; Middle Daughter, Youngest Daughter, and I each made two; and Oldest Daughter made four (and wanted to do more). In addition, we made four other candles that are being used for Advent at church. We dropped them off before we came home, so no pictures.
Here are my ordinary candles…
Note the deliberate choice of green for ordinary time. Candles for contemplation.
On Thanksgiving eve, I’m thankful for my community, for friends, for other adults who care for my children.
