Creatio Ex Nihilo

You've Got A Lot To Learn

For those of you not currently in school, when was the last time you calculated the area of a rhombus?  Or determined the specific density of an object?  Or spent the night reading about American History?  When was the last time you read a book on the same subject in which you majored in college? Probably quite a while.  For many of us, graduation was like being released from prison.  They let us out and we never looked back.  On some level, it was as if we thought we had learned everything we needed to know, if we really needed to know it all, and never need to learn anything again.

There was a time when one could get away with that kind of thinking.  In earlier generations the expectation was that once one graduated either high school or college, that was it.  You were done.  Sure there were special people who did extra time at medical or law school and got to get bigger houses, but for most people you went to school, graduated and got a career.  You stayed in that career for your whole working life.  Not only did you stay in the same career, you also stayed with the same company.  In the end, they gave you a nice retirement party, a watch and a pension.

Needless to say, those days are gone.  Few of us stay with the same career  our whole adult lives anymore and fewer still stay with the same employer.  For those who do work for the same company their entire career, there is precious little guarantee of security at the end of the road.  More likely, the road ends with a “package” that contains not a gold watch but a forced early retirement.

Consequently, most of us have either willingly or unwillingly change careers a few times in our adult life.  That presents a challenge both in education and in having to explain to your parents who are from that previous generation, that people do this now.  There is a popular factoid that gets repeated in the media over and over again which says on average an adult will switch careers seven times over the course of their working life. Additionally, between the ages of 18 and 38, a worker will change jobs ten times.  There is some dispute about the accuracy of these numbers and how one distinguishes a career change from a job change, but regardless of the specific numbers, the world has changed.

So Then, What Exactly Does God "Do"?

Last week, I posted a response to John Piper’s suggestion that the Minneapolis tornado was a God-sent warning to the ECLA for voting to allow gay clergy.  Across the web, many bloggers and commentators agreed that Piper overreached with his tornado theory.  However, I was struck by a particular train of thought among some of the comments.  

What I heard some commentators saying was that God does use things like storms etc. as warnings but that Piper was wrong to be specific about this incident. Or that storms and the like are acts of Divine Providence but it's wrong to try to interpret specific storms as such.  This raises the question, doesn't such a view make the notion of Providence almost meaningless? It's like saying, "Oh there definitely is this thing but I can't give you any specific examples, but I'm sure they're out there."  

This, along with some comments on my post, got me thinking more deeply about the subject of how God acts in the world.  Giving up the idea of God acting in the world makes the whole idea of God essentially meaningless, in my opinion.  I have no intention of doing so, but at the same time am hesitant to start attributing natural disasters to God.  Is that inherently inconsistent?

For those of us who don't believe God sends tornados, how do we believe God acts and communicates?  Is our cosmology influenced by subjective factors? Would we be more inclined to believe God sent the tornado in Minneapolis if the KKK was meeting there?  Do we have a coherent view of such things or do we evade the question by invoking concepts like “the mystery of God” or “humility about truth”? 

Over the past year, our church experienced a very unlikely series of events that led to us moving into long-hoped-for new worship space.  We view it as answer to our prayers.  However, to be fair to John Piper, how is believing God led us to a new space quantitatively different than Piper believing God sent a tornado?  Where do we in the non-meteorological crowd draw the line between what we view as plausible acts of God and ridiculous ones?  Is it just a matter of taste?  Do we dismiss Piper merely because his God seems too Cecil B Demille-ish for us and arbitrarily accept our more George Lucas-ish deity? 

Granted, unbeknownst to many Christians, theologians have been exploring these issues for over a century.  There are many promising ways forward, including ideas such as Process Theology.  However, outside the academy, it seems many of us are criticizing what we deem superstitious, while being inconsistent in our own theology, and offering no real alternative for fear of rocking the boat.  A robust and believable theology of how God acts in the world may require us to rethink and reframe how we speak about our faith.  Are we prepared to do that?  Do we even want to?  

How do you resolve this tension in your beliefs?  More importantly, how do we wrestle with these concepts in our churches? 

So We Still Believe In A Storm God?

Discussing the weather should be a safe topic, but some Christians can find a way to make even the weather controversial.

This week the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America is deciding whether or not to allow non-celibate gays and lesbians to serve as clergy and lay leaders in their churches.  As they prepared to vote in Minneapolis on Wednesday afternoon, an apparent tornado struck the city, damaging a nearby Lutheran church steeple, as well as the City Center where they were meeting.

From these events, Calvinist pastor John Piper, citing several Bible verses concludes, “The tornado in Minneapolis was a gentle but firm warning to the ELCA and all of us: Turn from the approval of sin. Turn from the promotion of behaviors that lead to destruction.”  Like Pat Robertson and others before him, Piper suggests that God sends us warnings through natural disasters such as tornados.

I don’t even know where to begin with this one, but I’ll try.  Putting aside any opinions about the whole sexuality debate, I have a major disagreement with this idea that God would use a tornado to influence the vote at a denominational meeting. 

A few thoughts:

• Were there any people whose homes were damaged who may have been conservative Christians like Piper?  If God micromanages the universe down to this level, one might expect better aim.
• How do we know the tornado wasn’t a warning to those who were going to vote against the inclusion of gays and lesbians?
• If God uses tornados for this sort of thing, why wasn’t there one at a similar meeting the Episcopal Church had last month?  For that matter, why do tornados seem occur in areas of the country where people are more likely to be Evangelical Christians?  We rarely see them in "liberal strongholds"  like NY, California, or Europe.
• If God is in the business of sending tornados to influence voting, why wasn’t one sent to warn the Supreme Court in the Dred Scott case, or German voters in the presidential election of 1932?   I think we would all agree the outcome of those votes led to an evils far worse than the claimed evil of gay clergy - at least, I hope we do.
• If the vote was such an offense to God, why not just show up and tell us so?

Okay, the above questions are somewhat facetious.  But I can't help it. In 2009, to be suggesting that God sends tornados as a warning strikes me as primitive and superstitious.  It only furthers the notion of the church being irrelevant and out of touch with science.  Lest you accuse me of being too Modernist in my logic above, keep in mind that the Modern Era is responsible for the computer in front of you.  Does anyone else see the irony of proposing such pre-modern notions over hi-tech media like blogs, Facebook and Twitter?  

If Christians revert to interpreting events as nebulous and random as the weather for signs from God, I fear we are going down a path far more dangerous than any having to do with sexuality.  On the other hand, how do we speak about God's will without making meteorological claims?  While it's easy to criticize Piper, what do we do with all those weather-related stories from the Bible?

Dammit Jim, I’m a Pastor Not a Curator!

Contrary to popular belief, it seems that people who most want churches to stay the same, are the people who never go to church.

A few months back, our church moved to a site that was home to a Mainline congregation for over two centuries.  Facing many of the same challenges of other small churches in the Northeast, the congregation of that church had tearfully decided to dissolve back in the spring.  The one comfort they had, was that the building would continue to be a house of Christian worship when Vision moved in, and not be converted into a gym, as happened with another church in our town.

The current structure, built in the 1860’s, features beautiful stained glass windows, a tin ceiling, and chandelier.  Aesthetically, it suits Vision’s eclectic style of worship, although we are in the process of making some modifications to the space.  The old Erben organ has been given to another sister Presbyterian congregation who is looking for someone to purchase it (Know anyone interested?).  Hopefully, it will find a good home where it can be restored, maintained and enjoyed.  Additionally, we have had to remove a few rows of pews to accommodate our pre-worship hospitality time, as well as handicap access. 

Some members of the previous congregation have chosen to worship with us, and have found Vision to be a meaningful new church home for them.   One would expect that they would be very critical of the changes we are making to the worship space.  Much to my surprise, they are not.  In fact, many of them have shared how inspiring it is for them to see new life in this old building. 

The only negative feedback I have heard is from passers-by who have no connection to Vision, the old church, or for that matter, any church.  Between cyclists, walkers and runner popping in throughout the week, as well as music lovers who attended our summer concert series, many new people have passed through Vision’s doors.  Many of them express regret to hear we have taken out a few pews or that the organ is being removed. 

Mistakenly, I assume they are active members of a traditional congregation, which would be fine.  After all, we all respond to different styles of worship.  But this is often not the case.  Usually, these critics are not a part of any church.  Yet, they are more than willing to tell me how churches are judgmental, preach hellfire and brimstone and are boring.  In short, everything Vision is not.  More surprisingly, these self described “open-minded” people are more excited by the prospect of a restored pew than that of creating a community of diversity and bridging differences among people.

I am all for preservation of historical buildings and restoring them with integrity.  However, I fail to see why people who have no use for churches think they should have a say in how churches operate.  Many of you from other parts of the country probably have no idea what I’m talking about.  Here in New York, I encounter many people who seem to think churches are some kind of quaint ornamental structure.  To them, churches are supposed to be innocuous harmless civic organizations where one’s children can come and get married with a veneer of spirituality and Americana.   Sometimes, there is a certain pompous detachment in their voice (think the hybrid drivers from the “Smug” episode of South Park), expecting our church to be merely a set piece in the movie of their lives.

Again, it’s great to restore old churches to their former beauty and at Vision we plan to do that - to a point.  However, the driving force behind our decisions will always be our mission, making disciples of Jesus, not conforming to cultural expectations.

Here’s the bottom line:  our churches are supposed to be challenging, not charming.  We are supposed to be saving the world, not preserving nostalgia.  In a broken and hurting world, whether or not our buildings have authentic period-appropriate copper gutters sometimes strikes me as a pretentious concern of rich over-educated white people.  A church is a mission, not a museum.

So how are you being a true revolutionary leader in your community, when much of that community may have the expectation that you be nothing more than a curator?  Do you sometimes feel like your church is being relegated to the role of historical curiosity, like an Amish tourist site?   Besides old buildings, are there programs, dogmas and doctrines you feel as if you are the curator?

 And for those who don't get the reference in the title of this post...

 

You Can't Handle the Truth (The Director's Cut)

This is an expanded version of a message I gave at a Lenten luncheon earlier this year.

I have noticed something when I talk to people of younger generations? Well, it started with younger people?  And then moved on to include even people my own age?  I’m 47 years old?  But notice I am telling you I am 47 years old?  But it sounds like I am asking you if I am 47 years old?  It’s a way of communicating where our inflection always sounds like we are asking a question?  It’s a way of conversing where it always seems like I am looking for your approval? Or reassurance from you?  Like I have no passion? Or conviction?  Whatever?

I don’t know if Pontious Pilate spoke that way, but I think he thought that way. When Pilate asks, Jesus, “What is truth,” I don’t think he is seeking a philosophical debate.  He isn’t starting a discussion about the meaning of existence.  Pilate was not a secret Christian.  History tells us he was a mean S.O.B.. He once crucified 2000 people in a one day.  Pilate’s “what is truth” is the imperial equivalent of “whatever”, “who knows?”, “yeah, what are you gonna’ do?”


Having experienced, just as we do, the intersection of multiple cultures and competing truth claims, Pilate was a jaded ruler who had seen it all.  Even his conclusion of “I find no case against this man” reveals his view that Jesus is no one special. “Sure, you’re the messiah Jesus.  That guy over there, he’s the Messiah. The guy sitting in a drawn circle on the ground and praying, he says he’s he Messiah too.  Yeah, you’re the Messiah.  Whatever works for you.  Whatever.”

We have all encountered this viewpoint in our own time.  Simply put, it is the relativist point of view that claims “You believe what you want.  I’ll believe what I want.  As long as it works for you.”  Ironically, although it denies the existence of truth claims, it conveniently ignores the fact that it itself is a making a truth claim.  As we will see, questioning truth can be a Christ-like thing to do, however, we come up against the pesky fact that Jesus talked a lot about truth – especially in the Gospel of John. 

The “whatever works for you” viewpoint while sounding appealing at first, does not work out well in real life.  You wouldn’t want to be with a group of relativists if you were on the Titanic.  Imagine that as you gather on the deck of the sinking ocean liner someone were to announce, “OK what I hear this group saying is ‘every man for himself’ and what I hear you saying is ‘women and children first.’ Let’s all break up into small groups to discuss.” 

God - Like A Complete Unknown

Last month, Bob Dylan ran into a little trouble at the Jersey Shore while wandering the streets of Long Branch.  Looking at a house for sale, poor Bob was unrecognized by a neighbor who called the police to report him.  The officer at the scene had difficulty believing it was Dylan, not so much because of his appearance, but because it just seemed so improbable that Bob Dylan would be wandering that neighborhood.

Our lack of recognition is not limited to wandering music legends. We humans do this all the time with God.  Although some compassionate action or truthful idea may appear God-like, there is always some watchdog to “call it in” with the authorities.  There is always someone who says, “God would never act through those people” or “that religion.”  When God does something new or interesting in the world, religious people are always the first to correct belief, label heresy or enforce orthodoxy, before even considering that God might be up to something new.  They always have a proof-text or denominational policy handy, like a cell phone to “call it in.”  Too often, they just smother some new thing God is doing.

Ironically, Christianity is based on a God who was not recognized.  He came to his own and his own knew him not.  How’s that for a proof text?  We fail to recognize and acknowledge God in the world, not because we don't know what he looks like, but he keeps showing up in places he's not supposed to.

It reminds me of a song recently recorded by Kate Campbell, “Would They Love Him Down in Shreveport Today?”

 

If they saw Him riding in, long hair flying in the wind,

Would they love Him down in Shreveport today?

If they heard He was a Jew and a Palestinian too,

Would they love Him down in Nashville today?

 

If they saw Him talk with ease

To the junkies, whores, and thieves,

Would they love Him out in Wichita today?

Would the rich men think it funny

If He said give up your money?

Would they love Him up on Wall Street today?

 

If He made the wine from water,

Gave it to their sons and daughters,

What would the folks in Salt Lake City say?

If He talked of brotherhood

As He walked their neighborhoods,

Would they love Him up in Boston today?

 

Oh, If He said love those who use you,

And forgive those who abuse you,

If He turned the other cheek, what would you say?

Would you laugh and call Him crazy,

And just send Him on his way,

If He walked right into your town today?

 

Would you laugh and call Him crazy,

And just send Him on his way,

If He walked right into your town today?

Most Christians have no problem recognizing God showing up in junkies and hookers anymore.  But what about gays, lesbians and Muslims?  What about churches that don't look like "regular" churches?  What about atheists?  Ever see God in any of them?

Has God ever wandered your neighborhood, as a complete unknown, unrecognized?  Have you ever been guilty of not recogizing God’s new activity and “calling it in”?  Have you ever had it done to you?

Healthy Church: Why the Church Will Always Be Messed Up

Many people church shop.  Chances are, that’s how most of you came to be in your church.  There’s nothing inherently wrong with that.  However, for some church shoppers, the shopping never ends.  They labor under the misconception that the right church for them will always make them feel good, will always confirm what the already believe, never challenge their preconceptions and cater to their every need.  In other words, somewhere out there is the perfect church. 

While viewing churches web sites a few years ago, I came across one for a church in a nearby town.  On the home page, the pastor had a refreshingly unusual greeting.  It said. “We are not a perfect church.  If you ever find a perfect church, please don’t go there.  You’ll probably ruin it.”

Obviously, people’s imperfections, including yours and mine, make any church imperfect.  These imperfections can be intimidating and discouraging.  We may want to follow the way of Christ, but whenever we try, our shortcomings become obvious and dishearten us.  We want to love our neighbor more, but seriously, have you ever seen my neighbor?  We want to develop spiritual practices in our life, but like that exercise program we’ve been meaning to start, our daily spiritual workout keeps getting pushed off just one more day.  We feel inadequate, not perfect enough to follow Jesus or be a Christian.

What’s worse, people outside the church are more that willing to point that out. Our imperfections look even worse from the outside and turn off for a lot of people.  Over the past few years, there has been an endless stream of polls and studies demonstrating that many people outside the church view Christians as hypocrites who don’t live up to their own perceived demand for perfection in others.  In other words, we are imperfect. 

We Christians have an image problem that just seems to get worse and worse.  Best-selling books rightfully list all the evil that has been done in the name of Christ, throughout history.  These critics point to the millions of graves filled with the victims of Christianity.  However, quite wrongly they conclude it’s time for the world to move beyond Christianity and on to atheism.   In response, we could point out the millions killed by atheist regimes such as that of Stalin or Pol Pot, but their accusation remains.  Christianity is an imperfect, flawed, and broken religion. 

To which I, and the apostle Paul reply, “Of course, it is.  That’s the point.”

Mr M or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the NRA

Okay, maybe not love them, but at least hang out with them. 

This all began with my son Isaac’s Christmas list that included a BB gun.  I know, know, spare me the “Christmas Story” references.  After getting his new camouflaged Daisy and spending a few days plinking soda cans in the backyard (which by the way is huge amounts of fun!), I started doing some web searches.  I discovered a fun Olympic sport called 10-meter air rifle shooting and began looking for a nearby range for him to learn the basics. 

Every Monday night for the past five months, I bring Isaac to a local NRA gun club for junior rifle practice.  While it’s been fun for him (he’s getting his Sharpshooter pin) it has been illuminating for me.  The night is led by a wonderful old man the kids call “Mr. M”.   Mr. M is recovering from  bypass surgery and walks with a cane.  When he arrives, it takes him a painful amount of time to walk from his friend’s minivan to the door of the cinderblock building.  He has more difficulty shuffling across the firing range to take a seat behind his scope.

Clearly, Mr. M’s life would be much easier if he stayed at home Monday nights.  But he doesn’t.  For decades, his passion has been introducing boys and girls to this sport and his deteriorating health has not diminished that passion.  He teaches the kids patience, focus and one of the most pragmatic bits of coaching advice I have ever heard.  When Isaac gets a 10, Mr. M counsels him, “Whatever you did on that last shot, just do it again.”  

While Pam and I are always writing out two and three digit checks for our kids’ other activities, the rifle club only runs me one dollar a week.  As such, most of the other kids in the club are not well-off kids from my town driven to the range by soccer moms, but city kids from single-parent households.  One night, I spoke with another man who brings his grandson each week.  The man was white.  His grandson was black.  “The great thing about this sport is that anyone can excel at it,” he said proudly. “They can be any size or shape and do well.”  It almost sounded like a speech on equal opportunity. 

Look, I know what I’m supposed to think of the NRA.  I went to art school for four years and have worn enough black in my lifetime to give Johnny Cash a run for his money.  If I were any kind of “enlightened” person, I would know these gun guys were supposed to be bigoted ignorant rednecks, right?  But reality has shattered that stereotype for me. 

Whether it’s political or theological issues, we forget that the people with whom we may disagree are actually people.  They are not cartoons.  As a pastor, I am always preaching that we love those who are different than us or, when I’m really feeling pretentious, that we encounter God in the “Other.”  The “Other” conjures up images of exotic foreigner in another religious tradition.  But sometimes the “Other” is a white guy who likes his guns.  I don't mean to romanticize my experience.  Some of the fliers hung on the gun club's bulletin board make me cringe a little bit.  Then again, there's something about everyone, including me, that makes me cringe a bit.

Last week one of my blog posts inspired a conservative reader to entreat me that “It’s not too late Don! Turn to Jesus!” This week I’m sure my liberal friends will exclaim, “It’s not too late Don! Turn to Michael Moore!” 

I am no expert about the issues surrounding gun rights vs. gun control and have no intention on starting a discussion about them.  However, I would like to know if any of you have had similar experiences.  Have you ever had your stereotype of the “other” transformed by an encounter with a real human being?  In particular, are churches capable of being a space where this can happen? Or are churches doomed to being a series of clubs where we choose sides, or pre-packaged views on issues and defend them? How is your church seeking to create relationships with those with whom you may disagree?

Oh Yeah, I Know Him...

When my career was focused primarily on making medical videos, I had to spend a lot of time selling myself, being an evangelist for my business.  Most of my work came through ad agencies and the challenge for me was finding the person at an agency who actually contracted video vendors.  Finding that person was a search akin to finding Jimmy Hoffa.  I quickly learned that I needed inside information if I was to have any success.  So I would ask my existing clients if they new anyone at a different agency from whom I could get some work.  They often obliged and would give me a phone number.  Most importantly, I would ask, “May I use your name when I call this person?”

Usually they would say, “yes.”  One client who always said I could use his name was a guy named Sam.  However, Sam’s name turned out not the magic password he led me to believe it was.  As I called the agencies Sam told me about, I would reach the creative directors on the phone and confidently say, “Sam recommended I call you.”

The person on the other end would always respond, “Oh yeah.  I know Sam.”

A rather ambiguous response.  This would happen time and time again.  No, “Oh yeah I know Sam.  He’s a great guy.” Or “Well if Sam uses you, you must be good.”  Just a plain, “Oh Yeah. I know Sam,” and then the chirping of crickets.