I recently heard about This American Life, an NPR/WBEZ radio program, from a classmate—so when I found it on the radio (as a repeat broadcast) while coming home from Groton (where I pastor) this past Sunday, I was interested.

When I heard the host of the program describe the topic of conversation, I was hooked.

And as I listened to the program, taking the long way home, making unnecessary stops and staying in the car for 10 minutes even after arriving at home, just so I could continue to listen (and even at the expense of running upstairs as fast as possible to watch the football game), I was moved and changed in a way that I have not been in a long time.

(click below for a summary and a link to the podcast)

The episode is entitled “Mr. Daisey and the Apple Factory,” based off of a live performance show done by Mike Daisey, a “Mac Guy” and techie who one day decided to learn more about where all his wonderfully seductive techie-crap came from.

I IMPLORE YOU, whether you’re an Apple nut or not, to LISTEN TO THIS PODCAST, for the following reasons, among others:

      * It’s pretty funny, while also tasteful. Entertaining, as well as eye-opening, stories are always winners in my book.

      * It’s persuasive without being judgmental.

      * It’s a great example of a “conversion story”—that happens from hearing the stories of others and attempting to step into their shoes, as well as give others a chance to step into ours/his.

      * Your crap doesn’t just “come from China”—It comes from a real place on a map, made by real people—in many cases, from the town of Shenzhen in China’s economic province.

      * The show producers do a tremendous job of fact-checking and being balanced in their analysis of his story at the end.

     * Virtually EVERYTHING we own is handmade.

      * It raises the question again that I cannot shake: Is this not the inevitable result of the unfettered growth-obsessed approach to business and life in the Western world? Are there not always people who are treated like cogs of a machine when businesses are pressured to always be growing and expanding? Is there a direct connection between colonization, Manifest Destiny, American imperialism, and modern-day globalization?

     * It also raises the question the show and others ask towards the end: Are the lives of the people in Shenzhen really better in the long run than they would’ve been without these factories? Are the businesses or the Chinese government to blame (and can American businesses avoid blame when they profit from the system)?

     * And what would Daisey say about the even-earlier stages of the technology-creating process, where the raw materials are mined in mines controlling by violent thugs who utilize fear tactics and unspeakable brutality to shore up their power? (And what about the component-making process that often occurs in southeast Asia?)

     * It will cause you to never look at your technology the same way ever again.

Please take the time to listen to this, even if you don’t listen to the whole thing. And then, post below if you have any ideas/convictions about what our response, in particular what a Christian response, should be to this unavoidable reality of the world today.

  (<— click here to listen to the whole podcast, This American Life, “Mr. Daisey and the Apple Factory,” first aired Janurary 6th, 2012.)

Strange as it may sound, one of the foremost topics that I explored during this first just-recently-completed semester of doctoral study was the topic of “interruption.” Especially since, for those of you who know me, interruption is something I already do pretty well on my own. (Just ask Amy.)

As a theological/philosophical category, though, “interruption,” or “irruption,” is about our assumptions being challenged—it is the moment where we are confronted with something or some insight that forces us to reassess the way things are. (And I think It’s one of the most interesting categories about which postmodern thought and the Christian faith can be in dialogue.)

And so since many of the church communities that I have been a part of have struggled to contend with cultures of complacency and comfort, it’s really not that strange that “interruption” would be a category of interest for me.

According to theologian J.B. Metz (quote above), interruption is the very purpose of Christian faith—and yet so often faith and religion and religious practices are associated with everything but interruption—i.e., challenge, confrontation, awe, exposure, humility, spirituality.

While I’ve been studying this phenomenon the past few months on an academic level, earlier this week I was reminded of an example from my own life—a song that I first heard about seven years ago.

(Click below to find out, and to get a link to, the song.)

The song is called the “Dalit Hymn” by Caedmon’s Call. To this day it is the only song I know that consistently makes me cry—not just most of the time, but EVERY time.

Thing is, I don’t like crying. It makes my eyes sting. So I avoid listening to the song in general, unless I am in a mood where I can handle it. As it turns out, I haven’t listened to the song at least a few years—until, strangely, on January 1st, on the plane coming back from Hawaii, after Amy and I parted ways in Atlanta (so she could attend her two weeks of intensive courses at Western Seminary in Michigan.) I almost didn’t believe that still after so long, after having heard the song as many times as I have, and after a long hiatus from it, it would still get to me. But it did. I was glad the adjacent seat next to me was empty on the plane, so I was able to cry without being noticed.

The song is not the best song of all time. It’s not even Caedmon’s Call’s best song. You’ll find more intricate and developed lyrics in the average Lady Gaga hit.

But every time I hear it, this song grabs me and “interrupts” my life—in spite of, and perhaps BECAUSE of, its simplicity. Rarely do we hear music that is such a raw, straightforward, plea of advocacy on behalf of the poor—in this case, the Dalit (the so-called “untouchable” caste in India)—in either secular or so-called “Christian music.” Free the Dalit, free the Dalit, Prime Minister, free the Dalit.

I have thought of a number of things from this example that teach me about interruption, and how we so desperately need to be interrupted in the church, if we are going to BE the church.

         * Art and narrative have tremendous power to interrupt—but they need not be complicated, intricate, or even all that creative to do it. When art—and/or God—draws our attention to “the real,” “the true,” and HOLD it there, it is successful.

        * Art can even be repetitive and still grab us, if we truly acknowledge its “interruptivity.” If we sterilize our art—our music, our sacraments, our sermons, etc.—they lose their interruptive power and become tools of indoctrination or pacification. It’s not the repetition of the Lord’s Prayer and communion, the routinization of sermons and scriptures—that makes them boring. It’s the removal of all scandal and challenge from them.

         * One of the primary ways art “interrupts” our lives—and our community—is prophetic declaration. Testimony to God’s Kingdom. It’s always the end of the song where I usually lose it: Caste is a lie, caste is a lie, Prime Minister, caste is a lie. The integrity of the Gospel isn’t demonstrated in how well we can recite doctrinal cliches or articulate the Romans Road, but in how well we call a spade a spade— in our own lives, as well as in the world, with humility and self-awareness. God stands against power, pride, isolationism, division, violence, and hatred. God made everyone forward and free…Politically, socially, everybody free.  

        * And “taking a stand” cannot just be done with words.

        *  Paul Ricoeur talks about how the impossible can be imagined as possible through narrative (and art). The key refrain of the song, Sub kooch ho sak-ee dey (All things are possible with God) reminds me why stories of God are necessary to begin to approximate an understanding of the Ineffable…. and it also reminds me that in the Christian faith, it’s not enough to be content with imagining a new reality. That new reality— a world of love and hope—must be LIVED, and made demonstrative within and beyond the community of faith.

(BTW the song references B.R. Ambedkar, who you may not know much about (I didn’t, prior to this song). He worked very hard for Dalit rights and was contemporaries with Gandhi. More info here. Also for more info check out the Dalit Freedom Network. )

It’s time for us to admit it: Being “judgmental” is actually necessary to being a person of faith.

Just be really, really careful (and humble) about it.

Odd timing for a post on judgment, I know, since we just finished Christmas and I’m presently sitting in perhaps the last place on earth that you would consider nasty things like “judgment.” (That place being Hawaii).

But in the peaceful early morning hours here in Waikoloa, listening to Mumford and Sons and sipping my Kona coffee, I came across this article in USA about some comments that Bill Maher made about Tim Tebow following their recent loss to Buffalo.

I’ve shared my opinion of Tebow and Maher to others before—and in case anyone’s curious, I don’t deify or demonize either of them. I know this is a bit like comparing apples to Slip n’ Slides, but  I’ve found Maher to be both hilarious and needlessly-offensive (I’m not necessarily against someone being offensive if it makes a point)— and I’ve found Tebow to be both annoying and refreshingly sincere. If there is a comparison to be made, they are both in many ways poster children (and caricatures) for the two “sides” of the so-called “culture wars.” But none of this is the point I want to make.

My two main concerns are: a) do I have a right to say the things I just said about Tebow and Maher?…. and b) is a Christian called to “not judge”?

The comments of the above-mentioned article feature a man who says that Maher is “evil, vile, and mean spirited” and defends Tebow…then several people proceed to call the man out as a hypocrite (and many proceed to name-call right back). Such scenes have become about as common on the Internet as Youtube videos of laughing babies and tweets about the newest Apple gadget… and I sure most of you reading this are as tired of them as I am…. but I think a point of clarification needs to be made about what “judgment” is and isn’t.

Really, the metaphor of judgment from a faith perspective has two meanings: Drawing conclusions that lead to making decisions, and declaring someone or something guilty or not guilty. This distinction is CRITICAL… one is about having a critical conscience; the other is about claiming the position reserved only for God. We need to get away from just calling people “good” or “bad” altogether, because this is too vague. We need to distinguish actions and events from what God sees—information that is inaccessible to us.

If we never “judged” (in regards to the first meaning) then Christians would have no right to conclude that any atrocity or act of injustice is wrong. We wouldn’t be able to say much about anything, really. The fact is, making evaluations about events, situations, actions, etc. are necessary components of having a faith that actually claims to make a difference in the world. And I think that that goes all the way down to the level of me not being out of line to make comments about Maher and Tebow, based on what they have said and done in the past, in the public sphere…. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean that we are not responsible for the statements that we make, and how we make them. If you make incendiary remarks, you’ll have to live with the consequences of them.

But we also often talk as if the “judgment” of God has already happened… and the Scripture makes clear that it HASN’T. We speak of a “final judgment,” or of a declaration of someone as “evil,” as if it is a permanent and absolute state, a foregone conclusion. But no one is “good” or “evil”—at least not perfectly. We are all beautiful and broken, creations of God, constantly permeated and surrounded by selfishness and fear. Our actions, thoughts, etc. can nurture either our beauty or the distortion of it—but neither side ever completely, utterly, disappears without a trace. All a radical bifurcation between “good people” and “evil people” ever does is serve to justify treating so-called “evil people” as less than human, less than a creation of God… which typically serves the interests of those in power, more so than God.

So Christians have a responsibility to “make judgments”… but to do so while taking as much information into account as possible, being aware of their own inherent biases and knowing that the “whole story” is always elusive to us.  We can and must make “judgments” based on actions and events, but we cannot presume to know people’s inner state as somehow “good” or “evil,” and we cannot place ourselves on the throne of judgment, which has been reserved for Christ, who had a habit during his earthly ministry of “making judgments” that were precisely the opposite of what people expected.

Thoughts?

In all likelihood, this will be a common trend on this blog for the foreseeable future— to either reflect on readings from my doctoral study, or to post excerpts from recent sermons. So, it will be a combination of me trying to make sense of faith, and of me trying to explain faith to others. Either way, I hope to continue receiving feedback from others in the blogosphere.

This is the middle portion of the sermon, part of a series of sermons teaching on the Kingdom/Reign of God, using the lectionary passages. This Sunday, the passage was Matthew 22:15-22:

(NRSV) 15 Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap him in what he said.¹⁶So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, ‘Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. ¹⁷Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?’ ¹⁸But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, ‘Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites?¹⁹Show me the coin used for the tax.’ And they brought him a denarius.²⁰Then he said to them, ‘Whose head is this, and whose title?’ ²¹They answered, ‘The emperor’s.’ Then he said to them, ‘Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’ ²²When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.

One of the reasons why I might wonder if any of these followers of the Pharisees might have had some misgivings… is because I imagine that they were young– probably between the ages of 16 and 25. I’ve worked with young people. (I know some of you are thinking, it wasn’t so long ago when I WAS a young person, by that standard!) But I’ve worked w/ youth and young adults and in my experience, they have a strong aversion to anything that smells FAKE. Insincere.

Nearly every time I see an interview or research study done that surveys people’s religious opinions, they often ask those who used to, but no longer, practice a Christian faith, “Why did you stop practicing your faith?” In every one, You can count on one answer usually being near or at the top of the list: “Because Christians are a bunch of…..HYPOCRITES.”

Now if a study pushes further, we’ll see a range of reasons why people have this opinion— ranging from televangelists taking people’s money, to scandals and abuses committed by Catholic and Protestant church leaders,….Oftentimes it’s a personal experience, like my aunt telling me just this past weekend about how when her husband was a child, he was told by his teacher at his Christian school that he was a terrible, sinful child, just for being late to school one day. Just that one experience, with one angry Christian, shaped the way he looked at Christianity for the rest of his life.

“Just how far does this reign of God-thing go?” It seems like even young people, young adults, even those who have abandoned faith, know inherently the answer.

It’s that your faith… has got to show itself in EVERY corner of our lives… and make a difference.

And the fact is, I’ve found, people will find someone very commendable, respectable, about that kind of faith, like I imagine those young apprentices would be of Jesus– as the text says after Jesus responds to them, they were amazed! … After all, everyone wants a life that matters. A life that stands for something. And in a world of dual allegiances, triple, allegiances, or more… where we’ll wear eight different hats in the scope of a week, it’s sometimes difficult to see the point, or to have focus, even about ourselves. We claim to be a religion of love, but so easily put ourselves first and forget the other people all around us. Hypocrisy can come all too easily, naturally, for all of us. Myself included. And our media, our politics, the news, are all rife with examples of wishy-washiness, and of failing to stand up on others who can’t stand up for themselves. In such a world, it’s incredibly compelling, I think, to speak about life, as whole, as purposeful. A life that matters, that gives back, that gives itself away. That maybe even pushes beyond what is comfortable or easy, in order to save the life, or end the suffering, of another human being.

And so the young apprentices and Herodians ask, Pay the tax, or not? How far does this Reign of God go? Or are you as duplicitous as our teachers and bosses say you are? And Jesus responds: “Who’s head? Who’s title… is on the coin for the tax? …. They show him a Roman denarius coin, stamped with the head of the emperor. Marked with the words: “Tiberius Caesar, son of the Divine Augustus, Augustus.” (The one the world called, “the Son of God!”)… And Jesus responds…literally he says, “So, give the Caesarly things to Caesar….

…And give the Godly things to God.”

It’s a very hard statement. Basically he says…

Money is the object, the desire, of Caesar who claims to be God. So let him take it from you. He wants it. It is His god. What does it matter to you? Caesar has no hold over the Reign of the True, Living God! What God wants…. is ‘GODLY THINGS….’ and nothing is more GODLY …. than YOU! You are valuable, precious to Him! He wants YOU…. and so He wants, EVERY part of our lives… to bear fruit for the Kingdom of God. For us radiate God’s love…. in every corner, crevice, and cranny.

It’s a very hard statement Jesus makes. The “godly things” we give to God…. and give to others…… is ourselves. And as I imagine those apprentices walking away, maybe they were shocked, or even acted offended, but at least a few of them were muttering to each as they walked off: “Hey, he might be crazy, but at least that rabbi isn’t a fake….”

As a church… as a culture…. we are easily seduced by the instantaneous.

Never has that been more true than in the age of Internet, fast food, and airplane travel. Yet the seduction of doing things as quickly as possible has been a part of Western life for over 150 years, since the dawn of the Industrial Revolution. The effect has simply snowballed.

Church communities have long since bought into this as well:

* The 19th century saw a rapid spread of Protestant Christianity in the US, which necessitated more “efficient” ways to become a Christian. Tenets of faith were reduced to simple “fundamentals” that everyone could digest, understand without much intense study, and were easily replicable. Theology became the means to substantiate this “Christianity Lite.” Circuit riders and wagons followed Manifest Destiny west.The proliferation only increased in speed with the advent of technologies such as the steam engine and the railroad, followed by the automobile and airplane.

* Pastoral care had to speed up, too. Inspired by the miraculous events in the scriptures, and perhaps by the testimonies of healing, some of these evangelists took up “healing ministries”—which was a convenient way to both continue full-fledged proliferation of the “gospel,” without having to get bogged down in slower, messier activities like relationships or compassion.

* Of course, while many denominations and groups maintained their devotion to compassion and justice, many communities spent less and less time on such things, unless of course doing so posed some direct benefit for their cause to “spread the easy-to-swallow Gospel.” Justice, fighting prejudice, challenging unjust laws, these things take time. The 19th and early 20th centuries still saw some progress, but it was around that time that people advocating for a “social gospel” were being demonized as heretics and Communists…such causes were deemed as ‘getting in the way’ of spreading the real Gospel message.

* All of these incipient trends began to accelerate in the mid/late 20th centuries. Along with it, churches and revivals became places of mass religious consumption, designed for maximum conversion rates. Reactions against liberation movements for women, blacks, and others led many churches’ silence or outright condemnation, which allowed abuse, scandal, and corruption to go unchecked in homes, businesses and in churches themselves. In the face of threatening post-Christian culture, churches catered more and more to the styles and modes and fashions that they hoped would make their Gospel-nuggets palatable again. Missionaries were being slowly replaced by the medium-term, and then the short-term missionary. This allowed more people to have “life-changing experiences,” but cost far more money, less of which actually went to the poor… but it was all good, because the trips gave the participants all the feelings of “investment,” without actually investing. Needs of the community have been farmed out to committees and sub-committees, all to find convenient, cost-effective solutions, advertised as easy, not-too-life-consuming “ways to get involved,” nearly always in the form of a structured church program.

Is it any wonder why people feel lonely in our world? Even at church?

It’s time for the church to think long-term. 

To not do a hundred things at the shallowest of levels, but to do only a few things, and to do them well.

The new benchmark for church success? That people build deep, long-lasting, long-suffering relationships.

With each other. With community projects. With the poor, young, abused.

It’s time to stop judging a ministry on the basis of whether or not it “grows,” or if it leads to “conversions” (but probably not disciples)… but on the basis of the love that is shown, and grown.

It’s time to think in terms of years, not months…. and in DECADES, not years.

It’s time to realize that deep, systemic, deeply rooted-within-societal problems don’t go away with our prayers, if no loving action goes with it. And they don’t go away with our one-time action, or even, oftentimes, our one-year action. It takes deep, systemic, deeply rooted responses to such deep problems… which includes prayer, AND involvement, for the long-haul.

It’s time for churches, as well as the individuals in them, to build relationships. Real, two-way relationships. And to realize that these, unforced and uncajoled, take time to develop.

It’s time for churches seeking pastors, and new church leaders, to see the inevitable “downswing” that happens after new relationships are forged and the “honeymoon phase” is over, as an opportunity to “long-suffer” with another, rather than high-tail it and to look for another community, group, individual, etc. to fawn over, or to let fawn over you.

It’s time to stop patting ourselves on the back for only the things we measure as “success.”

And for the love of God, we must, we must, we MUST stop supplementing our quick-fix, easy-answer, instantaneous-results orientation with a “Gospel Lite.” The “Good News” is not truly good, until it affects every strata of living— physical, emotional, social, spiritual, political, ecclesial. Until it is Good News for those who long-suffer and carry heavy burdens of oppression, guilt, abuse, neglect, poverty, self-worthlessness. Until that Good News becomes Incarnate, en-fleshed, in the very midst of that suffering, and we then “suffer with” (com-passio) the suffering.

Even if it takes a while.

A LONG while.

….

Are we willing to work on behalf of others without immediate or continual payoff?

Are we able to?

Does our theology, our Gospel, give us the resources to do so?

“Let us not underestimate how hard it is to be compassionate. Compassion is hard because it requires the inner disposition to go with others to place where they are weak, vulnerable, lonely, and broken. But this is not our spontaneous response to suffering. What we desire most is to do away with suffering by fleeing from it or finding a quick cure for it.”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen

 http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/4837.Henri_J_M_Nouwen

Here is a (mostly) unedited excerpt from the sermon I preached this past Sunday at West Groton Christian Union Church. I hope you find something here that grabs your attention, and turns your heart Godward, today.

(Exodus 16:2-16) This morning’s text is of course the famous story, as you might know, of manna…. which as we already noted, means “What is it?”

So I think it’s kinda funny that when we call this bread “manna,” we have named this bread, the “what is it?” bread! There’s a lot of great lessons about God’s grace to pull out of this story of manna, but I think the fact that it’s named after an expression of CONFUSION is perhaps the most interesting part of the story for me. What is interesting, is that after the people say, “manna?” to Moses, he explains it for them. “It’s bread, you goofs. It’s what you asked for. You see? God listened to you. God hasn’t forgotten about you.” Manna was their God-sign…. and you’d think it’d be a pretty obvious one, wouldn’t you? Yet they still looked at it and were dumbfounded! “What is this stuff?”

The truth is, that’s why we must look for God, because if we’re not looking, if we’re so wrapped up in ourselves, and our own problems, that we forget God, God’s mission, and God’s people, God’s creation…. we can even look at God’s care for us straight on, and still miss it completely.

So when we look for glimpses of God in our midst…. there’s another step we take…. so that what would be confusion, turns into MARVEL. We are AWE-struck. We are TAKEN IN by the beauty, the love, the sense of belonging, the compassion, the justice…. Just like Moses translates the scene for them, so that the Israelites look at this strange stuff on the ground, and stop seeing “stuff…..” they start seeing BREAD. LIFE. HOPE……so must we look for God in our lives, because when we do, it gives the ordinary, the new and challenging, and even the confusing, “stuff,” meaning…. we can find Bread. Life. Hope.

We can look at our stories of the past (where we’ve come), and LEARN, to MARVEL at God’s past care, and the sense that God is taking you somewhere that will really make a difference.

We can see ordinary trees and rivers and LEARN, to MARVEL at the Beauty of God’s creation, and consider His loving craftsmanship for all things, including ourselves…. seeing that as its said, “God doesn’t make junk.” Or we can overcome with the charge we’ve been given to be caretakers of the earth.

We can see love in our relationships, and LEARN, to MARVEL at the power of love to grab us, to change us, to make us better people. To see ourselves as deeply and fully loved, and worthy of love. To share that love with others, freely and selflessly.

We can encounter great music or art, and LEARN to MARVEL at the creativity that God has placed in every human being.

These are all acts of prayer, but of course we can, and should, also sit and pray, perhaps sit in the silence, and instead of praying a rote blessing, or praying “for” things we THINK we need, or saying lots of words, we can just sit… and LEARN to MARVEL at God Himself.

We are indeed “pilgrim people.” We all are on journey with God, not just as individuals, but as a community, together. And that journey goes through ebbs and flows, ups and downs, as all journeys do. But there is one who has “pilgrimed” before us. And in the thick, and thin, moments, we can see Him… sometimes clearly, sometimes as if through a haze, but he’s there. If we seek Him, in the ordinary, the everyday, in the “what is it?” moments, we will be able to see Him in the Big, life-changing moments, too. And if we as a church community, can LEARN TO MARVEL, together, as we step forward into uncharted territory… we will find ourselves to be exactly what we’re called to be… a community of hope. An oasis in a desert. The people of God.

Meet two of my new profs: Richard Kearney and Thomas Groome.

After two days of class, my head is already swimming with thoughts, but here is a short note about apolegetics and conversion:

The two classes that I have attended thus far have been a philosophy class with world-renowned scholar Richard Kearney, and a Christian Education class with beloved Catholic theologian and instructor (and now one of my principal advisors) Thomas Groome. This peculiar juxtaposition, which would have only been possible in a degree program such as this one, elicited some interesting contrasts between Christians’ different ideas about conversion—which, if you think about it, could be considered quite an arrogant thing: Here I am, as a Christian, charged with the Great Commission (which is part and parcel to my belonging to this faith-community), and thus I must seek to compel you, my dialogue partner, to encounter my faith and my God—(and not only that, but also that as mitigated through my words, my culture, my particular frame-of-reference).

In my second class, Groome said (and I agree) that to understand conversion in this way is a misunderstanding of the Great Commission, not to mention of the Kingdom of God: Christians should increase in their self-awareness, even as they assume the great task of the Commission that is charged to every disciple (yes, that means everyone), becoming more conscious of the predilection we have towards either cowering in the shadows, or force-feeding faith. We should also broaden our understanding of conversion in the first place, which I would state as a need to re-define evangelism in my contexts: The Gospel is proclaimed whenever Christ’s healing, restorative, loving presence is made manifest in the world. Therefore evangelism is the same as justice, as compassion, as relationship, as truth-telling, as prayer. This is a more holistic understanding of the task of the Church.

On the heels of Kearney’s class, however, even this call struck me as difficult, due to a possible arrogance—well at least, there is a temptation to be arrogant, whether we realize it or not. Indeed, any concept of apologetics, holistically-understood or not, seems that it would be a difficult pill to swallow for anyone with postmodern sensibilities. There are some branches of philosophy (e.g. Alasdair MacIntyre) that leave room for “conversion,” albeit radically re-interpreted, but the task of “Gospel-proclamation” remains always interpreted, always with the potential for grave distortion, always seems a bit “self-focused;” i.e., at the end of the day, my interaction in the world is about what I can give to it, or perhaps in a somewhat-mitigated version, what God can offer the world through me. 

Dialogue, relationship, narrative— all these are metaphors being used to describe the interaction between disciple and non-disciple… yet (genuine) dialogue, relationship, and even narrative, are more other-focused, than self-focused. Indeed, such a “self-focus” belies the very teaching of the Jesus the Gospel proclaims.

As I imagine Kearney would say, “conversion” and “apologetics” are probably words that simply need to be stricken from the Christian (or any tradition’s) vernacular— unless, perhaps, we speak of the former as a “mutual conversion.” That is to say:

Christians enter into conversation with others, including non-Christians, with the expectation of being changed, not only (and perhaps even more so) than to change. In that sense, conversion is an ongoing process that never ceases; even as we are continually being converted (i.e., renewed) in Christ, we are also converted by the Christ that appears to us, in expectedly ways, in the face of the non-believer, the skeptic, the Muslim, the Hindu, and the “vaguely religious” modern.

In fact, what better way, perhaps, to proclaim the Gospel in this world, than to be willing to listen, learn, and grow?

No, I haven’t been on vacation….. just keep reading….

[Note: You can ignore this post if you want, it’s more about my own self-consolation and processing than anything else. ]

I have been on (about) a three-month break from blogging, as Amy and I finished up our ministerial tasks in Texas (for myself, I co-led a VBS and led two summer retreats for a San Antonio youth group). My first and most typical response to this unintentional hiatus was to be frustrated with myself at my lack of personal discipline. Plus, I was doing so well at keeping up with WordPress’ “Post-a-Week” challenge and I was disappointed at myself for dropping the ball.

I have decided, however, to take a different outlook, that will hopefully help me process other areas of my life where this similar pattern of “commitment—rhythm—inevitable collapse—frustration interlaced with intermittent self-loathing—giving up” seems to emerge:

With some areas of life, especially the reflective/restorative parts of it, I just go through waves. And sometimes I need “time-off” from even the good stuff. Then I can pick it back up when I’m ready to do so… and there’s nothing wrong with that.

So basically, I’m ready to pick blogging back up, after a little time off, ready to ride another wave.

Now that Amy (and Millie) and I are settling into our new home (in Newton/Watertown, Mass) and as we begin setting work and school schedules, blogging for me will most likely turn into a place where I process and throw out some thoughts, ideas, and inspirations that are stimulated by my readings and coursework. After all, the past impulses of this blog (theological language, and Christian discipleship) are similar impulses that have compelled me to pursue this doctoral degree in Theology and Education. 

Hopefully you (whoever who are) will find this new wave of posts fruitful, and maybe even entertaining, for however long it lasts.

I’ve already got one post as a result of my reflections on my courses— It will post tomorrow. I look forward to hearing your thoughtful responses!

[Travels to Boston this week have thankfully yielded housing; word still out on employment… travelling also meant no early-week blog, hence the Saturday post.

In case you were wondering.]

(via EmilyDawn2)

I spent most of this week with my lovely wife/spouse/partner in crime, Amy. Wonderful.

Much of that time being, in an airplane. Less wonderful.

Towards the end of our final flight on Tuesday, with a few spare minutes left to kill before the limitless thrill of landing and taxiing ensued… I picked up the on-flight magazine and read an article. Well, I read a paragraph, at least.

Couldn’t tell you what the article was about, but that paragraph was about lauded TV producer JJ Abrams, of Lost and Alias fame, and the “mystery box” he kept in his office. Curious, the next morning while sitting in a Massachusetts Starbucks [always an admitted source of comfort in a new location; I can always rest assured that all Starbucks everywhere are the exact same.] I looked up the story— and as it turns out, the airplane magazine ripped the illustration off a TED presentation Abrams did a few years ago. 

(See his thoughts, my thoughts, and some other words formed into sentences, after the jump.)

Apparently, this “mystery box” is a value box of gag gifts that Abrams procured from a magic store while he was growing up…that he never opened. He later realized that the reason he never opened the box was that he was far more captivated far more by the limitless possibilities of the closed box than, in all likelihood, were the disappointing contents inside. To him, the closed box represented “possibility;” it represented “hope.” His inherent understanding that mystery is the catalyst for the imagination, far more so than knowledge, is what has driven his career as a producer of some immensely popular and captivating television series.

[You can click the above link to check it out yourself; start at 3:39 to get the whole “mystery box” story]

To me, these words (imagination, possibility, hope) are intensely religious words. To me, these are central components to what we typically call “faith.” The way I understand Christian history, followers of Jesus have long understood these words as descriptive of their faith-expression… but in the last 200 years, and increasingly more so, these words have been understood as the opposite of faith.

Faith has become about apprehending truth. Faith has become precisely ABOUT knowledge, of the recitation of proper doctrine that may or may not result in actual concrete behaviors. And as Abrams and our favorite television programs remind us, mystery is what compels the imagination far more than knowledge, and imagination is what creates in us the sense of potential, and of hope.

Books about “Bible mysteries” are all about cracking said mystery. Mystery is something we SOLVE, not something we embrace.

And what could be more inherently “mysterious,” i.e., rife with potential, than God?

A drama between God and humanity has unfolded, having been recorded in the pages of scripture…. and that drama continues to play itself out!

Never having gotten into the show LOST myself [I’m waiting to watch it all at once until Amy and I start watching a series together again; I did watch Alias for a couple seasons, though, and I hear things, so I have a sense of the Abrahamian flair] I do remember that period of time after the series finale, where numerous Facebook statuses were emblazoned with the caption “What am I going to do with my Wednesday nights, now?” or “Now what am I going to be obsessing about with my friends all week?” [Okay, these aren’t quotes, but you get the sentiment. Trouble is, I’m so obsessed with protecting myself from KNOWING anything about the ending, because I want to preserve the mystery!…. that I don’t want to Google actual quotes about people’s real reactions to the end in fear that they might tell me something I shouldn’t know! But I remember the feelings people expressed quite clearly.] 

I also remember people hosting parties and spending all week between episodes during seasons anticipating the following week’s episode.

Can you imagine if Christians felt that way when Sunday worship was over?

Whenever we gathered together, and then scattered?

Whenever we finished serving together?

That there would be a latent sense of anticipation about ‘”what happens next”?

Because our time together in worship, storytelling, fellowship, and service, instead of simply giving us ANSWERS….. were actually catalysts for our communal imaginations? That the church was a community of possibility and hope?

Sometimes anticipation isn’t good, it’s true.

Via offthemark.com

Two brief thoughts about this:

-Church should be the community where stories are told—from the scriptures, from the stories of the lives of Christians, from individuals trying to live according to this story today— stories that include the highs, lows, and everything in-between. And in doing so, there should be the ongoing sense that the stories are all part of one grand story…. that is not completed, that is ongoing.

-Churches cannot be communities of possibility, unless they actually live a story together. If they preach about hope and then never do “hopeful” things together (e.g., serve the homeless together, advocating for the poor together, protecting women and children and giving them shelter, reaching out to gang members, prostitutes, runaways, and loving them unconditionally, etc. etc. etc.) then the message becomes moot. The story has to have a “next week’s episode.” There has to be something to anticipate.

In September I will begin a Ph.D. program in Theology and Education at Boston College.

It is a unique "interdisciplinary" degree (i.e., a "cross" between a theology and education degree, although it probably leans in focus towards the former) that I believe would prepare me for a task that I have become more and more passionate about over the years: not merely teaching the right theology to future pastors… but teaching pastors how to think theologically, and how to engage their community in a theological way. Boston College, further, is a Jesuit school, and the Jesuit tradition has a long history of studying and practicing holistic formation.

In my opinion, the way we teach theology in Protestant seminaries, becomes the way that those pastors, in turn, teach and lead their communities. If we teach in static, disconnected, non-questioning, reductionistic ways; pastors will preach and lead their congregations in static, disconnected, non-questioning, reductionistic ways as well. But if we empower pastors to think theologically, they will in turn empower their congregations to think theologically, that they might begin exegeting their communities for the sake of God’s kingdom together.

For more about us, check out our family update blog.

For more on the program, check out their webpage.