The Physics of the Body of Christ

(This is the paper I submitted to the Craigville Colloquy five years ago, as mentioned in the post, "Love and power".)

Early one Sunday morning a pastor was getting ready for that morning’s worship. As she was readying her Bible and her sermon on the pulpit, her young son asked her about what different events or objects meant in the course of worship. He asked, “Mom, what does it mean when a baby has water poured on its head?” She replied, “It means we welcome that new life into the body of Christ, promising to be its family, and to teach that little one the faith of the church.” He asked another question, “Mom, what does it mean when we eat bread and drink juice in church?” She answered, “It means the bread is Jesus’ body and the juice is his blood. This is how we remember him and God’s love for us.” “Oh, I see. Then what does it mean when the head usher points at his watch when you’re preaching?” Slowly shaking her head back and forth and smiling, she said, “Not a thing, honey, not a thing!”

We could also insert a question about the confession “Christ will come again” and sadly the minister would give the same response as to its meaning: not a thing. Among today’s Christians in the pew, few actually give pause to think about what it would mean to have Christ in our midst once again. For this post-modern age, a dead person, resurrected, ascended into heaven and then coming back to earth again holds little promise and even much less meaning. Especially since so much time and so much violence and bloodshed have washed under the bridge, Christ’s return into human history seems moot at best.

I propose that the return of Christ has more to do with the Body of Christ, namely the Church, than with any supernatural intervention from a theistic Christ. Furthermore, the knowledge that we have about the human mind/body connection gives refreshing inspiration to the image of the Body of Christ in such a way as to invigorate that same Body that is seemingly groping and limping and, at times, severely wounded. The Church, indeed, all of humankind is thirsting for new insight, fresh understanding, honest self-examination, perhaps even reformation. For surely we cannot continue in the same path as the one that has led us here, continuing on the same circumscribed route. As Einstein said, “No problem can be solved from the same consciousness that created it.” (1)

Imagine a vision of the Church, indeed, a vision of humanity where all are of the same mind (Phil. 2:5), this mind being the Spirit of Christ. For I believe that Christ did not come to make us all Christians, but to wake us up from our sleep. Christ showed us what is possible for humankind. Through his life, death, and resurrection he made manifest that our humanity is our divinity, that divinity is our birthright. We cannot be the Body of Christ and still live our lives the same old way. Our redemption depends not only on a leap from God, (2) but also on a leap from God within us. Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21, RSV). Mahatma Gandhi said, “You must become the change you wish to see in the world.” Emmanuel can mean not only “God with us” but also “God in us”. We hold dear the prayer that Jesus gave the infant Church:

“...that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, (or be one in us), so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (John 17:21-23).

Jesus’ mission was to illustrate in his relationship with God, that humanity, the earth, indeed, the entire cosmos are one: one with God, one with itself. Unity is not only that which will save us, but it is our witness as well.

Paul outlines this image of oneness beautifully in 1 Corinthians 12 in his discussion of the Body of Christ. “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ...”(1 Cor. 12:12ff). It has been said that the Church as the organic, continuing incarnation of Christ does not accommodate other images of Christ and the Church found in the Bible (3). However, if we take into account recent discoveries about the mind/body connection, we will see how intimately connected the mind is to the body, and thus how intimately Christ is connected to the Church.

Recent studies in the field of quantum theory have been applied to how we think. A quantum unit of light is a photon. It is said that a quantum unit of the mind/body connection is a thought. Neuroscience tells us that our brain communicates with itself through chemicals called neuropeptides. In our brain are receptors to these neuropeptides. This is the chemical manifestation of thought. It is now known that every system, every cell in our body has these receptors and has the ability to manufacture the same neuropeptides as in our brain. We don’t just think in our brains. Our thoughts are not only messengered to, but can be created within any system, any cell in our bodies. The mind is not limited to the brain. We have a thinking body (see Chopra, Magical Mind, Magical Body CD, 1995).

Imagine, then, applying this knowledge to the image of the Body of Christ. Christ is not only the head, Christ flows throughout the entire body. The Body, when it thinks, has the potential of thinking in the same mind of Christ. The Spirit of Christ has been working through the Body, the Church, for millennia. Oh, how hard the struggle has been to raise that mind to consciousness! But when the Body of Christ is able to put its fears aside and allow the mind of Christ to be primary throughout the Body, it is then that we see glimpses of the kingdom. We begin to see what the world would be like if the mind of Christ was brought to consciousness throughout the Body of Christ.

At Princeton, physicists and other scientists who deal with anomalies are studying the idea of global consciousness. Their proposition is that human consciousness and volition can affect the material world, especially with large scale events of deep meaning, such as any New Year’s Eve, earthquakes, a call to national or even global prayer, and September 11, 2001. Events where there is a collective identity and a depth of emotion and focus seem to be able to affect the results of random number generators. Numbers that normally hover around a horizontal line form a sweeping curve during such events. The curve for 9/11 lasted more than two days (4), suggesting a coherence that can affect the physical world.

In the area of leadership development and organizational structure, this same science is being applied, that there is a group consciousness to be trusted within all living systems. Chaos and order are not opposing forces but two aspects of one reality. Both need each other in order to accomplish the other. This is how we evolve and change. Changing the way we view Jesus, the Body of Christ, and ourselves in light of this new science would indeed be chaotic. But if we want the Church to survive, change we must and we must endure this chaos, trusting that we will organize again, but we will be a new creation. Maybe even a clearer view, a pungent taste, a heady aroma of that long-awaited kingdom.

All of this has profound implications for the whole Body of Christ, indeed, for all of humanity and the whole of creation. That may sound grandiose, even dangerous. Scientists would probably caution against making these leaps of understanding without knowing the math behind the theory. Yet both science and religion are about the pursuit of truth. Sue Monk Kidd once said, “The truth may set you free, but first it will shatter the safe, sweet way you live.” (5) I think it’s high time we exercised some of that dangerous truth in the Church. How we worship and live together as a people of God would change beyond our deepest fears and into our wildest dreams.

In worship there would be longer periods of silence, giving us opportunity to connect with that greater Mind within us and within the community. We would use more of our bodies with creative movement, dance, and drama. We would also use more of our senses, new “smells and bells” to encourage nonlinear thinking. Art, stories, and pictures would help to stimulate creativity. There would be more “testimony” from individuals, how they experience Christ within the community and in solitude. We would worship in a circle, to give witness to that living unity, and so that all present can see the whole community, with the one or ones leading worship as part of that circle.

There would also be witnessing from other corporate bodies, other churches, other denominations, other faith traditions. There would be time for imagining the future of the worshiping community, the Church, and the future of the world. There would be an emphasis on learning of the collective identity of the worshiping community. Who we are illumines personal patterns, how we contribute to the collective identity, and imbues individuals with the responsibility of changing oneself. (6) And most importantly, there would be no time limit to worship. Worship would move seamlessly from sabbath to daily life to sabbath once more.

Our living together and in the world would, therefore, be an extension of our worship. Having been changed by what we had witnessed, imagined, and sensed--having had a God-experience (7)--we would then go into the world, helping where there is no helper, praying without ceasing, witnessing the good news, and telling the truth of the reality of God’s realm on earth. We would live as Jesus lived, that is, live fully. We would love as Jesus loved, that is, love wastefully. We would be as Jesus was, that is, have the courage to be ourselves. (8)

We would take seriously the radical notion of the priesthood of all believers (1 Pet. 2:9). Laity and clergy alike would recognize their own authority and respect the authority of others. Our places of worship would become seminaries to educate and prepare laypeople as ministers in the world. (9) Knowing ourselves to be different from Christ only in degree, knowing ourselves to have that same mind within us and having the practice of it, we could change the world. There would be no distance between Christ and the Body of Christ. The bride and the bridegroom would have union, one body, one Spirit, one God (Eph. 4:4-6). They would be ONE.

Christ will come again. Come, Lord Jesus, come! Amen.


Notes
Bible quotations, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible.

1. Margaret Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science (second edition), (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1999), 7.

2. Hendrikus Berkhof, Christian Faith, (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1986), 528.

3. Ibid., 402.

4. Barbara Stahura, “Global Consciousness?”, Spirituality and Health. (Spring 2002): 29.

5. Sue Monk Kidd, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter, (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996), 15.

6. Wheatley, 144.

7. John Shelby Spong, A New Christianity for a New World, (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2001), 145.

8. Ibid., 145.

9. Elizabeth O’Connor, Letters to Scattered Pilgrims, (San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc., 1979), xiii.


Bibliography
Berkhof, Hendrikus. Christian Faith. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1986.

Chopra, Deepak. Magical Mind, Magical Body. Niles, IL: Nightingale Conant, 1995. Compact Disc.

Conzelmann, Hans. History of Primitive Christianity. Translated by John E. Steely. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1973.

Dawn, Marva J. A Royal “Waste” of Time. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1999.

Jahn, Robert J. and Dunne, Brenda J. Margins of Reality. Orlando, FL: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1987.
http://noosphere.princeton.edu

O’Connor, Elizabeth. Letters to Scattered Pilgrims. San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc., 1979.
Spong, John Shelby. A New Christianity for a New World. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2001.
Stahura, Barbara. “Global Consciousness?”. Spirituality and Health, Spring 2002, Vol. 5, No. 1.

Taylor, Barbara Brown. The Luminous Web. Boston, MA: Cowley Publications, 2000.

Wheatley, Margaret. Leadership and the New Science (second edition). San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1999.

Holy Spirit: Mad farmer

(This post is for Share Cropper who left a comment on the post "Love and power".)

She got a tractor
because she likes to shift,
chug, chug, driving it in unending
S-curves, back and forth
across her family square of field
lustily singing old hymns
How Firm a Foundation and His Eye is On the Sparrow
often belting tunes that Eva sang
at Blues Alley. She plants
flowers: pungent marigolds, vibrant zinnias,
coneflower and Susans for the butterflies
globe thistle for the honey bees
roses because Maria in Nicaragua has to
puts them in with her
vegetables: voluptuous tomatoes, regal corn,
fragrant basil for pesto,
rutabaga for a grandfather,
lima beans because she likes the sound of ‘succotash’
—a bright wiggly patch among
the huge quilt of farms.
As she mucks barefoot through
the sodden field, her
painted toes give a
flashy red smile in
the dark earth.
She turns and laughs
at her footprints,
the curve of her arch
leaving puddles shaped
like her garden rows.
She composts, hauls
in manure, piles on
dead leaves, plunges her
hands till she comes up
with worms. She looks
at death and says, “Now.”
At harvest she
shares a tenth with her
neighbors but with
the rest she feeds the
poor at her table
and fills nursing homes
with the scent of flowers.

Not in my church

Listen to this story on NPR. The Pilgrim United Church of Christ in Carlsbad, CA is Open and Affirming. But what happens when a convicted sex offender who has been attending services now wants to become a member? How far does the gospel reach? Into our own little hells or into the hell of those whom we fear? Isn't it both?

A mother voices her fear about her young adopted son, that he's so friendly, he goes up to anyone. I hear her worry; I have two daughters myself. But welcoming a child molester does not mean we abdicate our role as parent. It means sitting down with children and having a review of 'stranger danger'. It warrants the church developing a safe church policy, something every church should do. It means every adult keeping watch and also trusting God to be acting within this person. From what I heard of the story he seems to have an honest desire to be part of a faith community so that he might become a better person. He knows that to be isolated would mean only trouble for him.

It's a dicey call, but when do we start taking the gospel seriously? Doesn't a sex offender deserve the opportunity to practice resurrection just like the rest of us Christians?

The Cave of the Yellow Dog

This is a spectacular movie, Cave of the Yellow Dog. It was made by a Mongolian-born, German-raised director. Her desire was to show the life of the nomad, which is slowly disappearing. The scenery is breathtaking, the family is filmed in a spontaneous docu-drama style, the pace is gentle, serene, and fearless. And though it was made in 2005, I had heard about it only last week from a friend of mine. Thank goodness for public libraries. I think I would go mad without them.

Love and power

I once made the mistake of attending the Craigville Theological Colloquy on Cape Cod. It's a weeklong summer conference of theological conversation, guest speakers, worship, and relaxation. Persons are invited to submit a paper to be presented at the colloquy based on the theme question of the week. The one I grappled with was: "How does the confession 'Christ will come again' affect the way the church lives and worships now?". At the time I attended (2002), three papers were to be selected for presentation. Mine was one of them. My 'prize' was free accomdations, meals, and registration.

The mistake I made was believing this conference to be comprised of open-minded, theologically-expansive Christians. Not so. My paper, entitled "...that they may all be one: The Physics of the Body of Christ" was applauded by some and ripped to shreds by others. I was even declared a heretic! I was also too green in my burgeoning process faith and so did not possess enough fortitude to defend myself properly.

Every year since they have sent me a brochure for the current year's colloquy. There's no way I'm going back but this year's question is worth struggling over, especially since it bumps right into process thought: "In a world of violence and suffering, how can we believe in an Almighty and all-loving God?"

Simply put, we can't. An all-powerful God who chooses not to use that power hardly seems all-loving. But then, that's too easy as well, too easy to dismiss a God like that and just give up all together.

"...it seems pretty obvious that if words like good or loving apply to people, then God must want to prevent broken arms, cancer, and rape as much as we do--indeed, far more because God's love is greater." (C. Robert Mesle, Process Theology: A Basic Introduction)

God wants to prevent suffering but cannot. Indeed, God suffers the pain of all creation, in every molecule, fiber, and emotion. But God's role is persuasive rather than coercive. God has no hands but ours, to quote Theresa of Avila. God does everything within divine power to ease suffering and prevent evil, but then there's us with free will and the consequences of that will. We cannot expect God to be the only one who is all-loving and exclude ourselves from that equation. Jesus gave us the command to love: love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength and love our neighbor as ourselves. If love is limited, it is limited by our weakness and fear. If for no other reason, we need to believe in an all-loving God to help us to love all, by being in relationship with God and with one another and the creation.

As for power:

"If God has perfect unilateral power, then God is utterly unaffected by the world--perfectly unchangeable. ...If God cannot suffer, cannot be affected in any way, then God cannot love. To love is to be affected. But perfect unilateral power is the power not to be affected. ...To love is to feel all the passions of joy, sorrow, grief, fear, hope, and triumph that bind us to each other, that make life so dynamic and changeable. But perfect unilateral power is the power to be unaffected by such changing passions. A God with perfect unilateral power cannot love in the sense in which we love." (ibid.)

It's a different conception of power. It's power with rather than power over. It's solidarity and relationship and creativity and imagination and persuasiveness--all that relegated-to-the-feminine stuff (OMG!).

When I was a young mother to an energetic toddler, I needed a God who was going to keep me sane and keep me company. I wrote this out of my need:

A new creed

She sits with me
at the kitchen table
Her eyes brighter than mine
She drinks tea, listens, waits
for me to speak
She is in the oven
in the juices, the rising bread
Her heat under the boiling water
When I burn my hand
we both say “Damn!”
She is in the dirty bath water
the soiled sheets
and the bottom of the diaper pail
When my child whines, cries “Mommy”
for the umpteenth time that hour
She becomes the strong steady nerve
I didn’t know I had
She understands when I lose it—
she soothes my guilt
She’s in the whisper, my daughter’s
warm hair smell, the squeal of delight,
the “hopping frog” through the kitchen
that rattles the cupboards

She is Mother
full and empty
silence and clamor
peace and fury
sweetness and shit
She is not too much God for all this
to be beneath her
Oh no. She is beneath me
further descending beyond
anything I dare
She has saved me more times than I can number

That is power, that is love.

None of this has ever happened to me :(

Apparently, high church is funnier than low church:

Church bloopers

So is it ethical for a priest to rescue the holy host from a set of bosoms?

As for the post-baptismal fountain, if the priest were also a dad, he would have seen that coming.

And the hand-slap was from his mother-in-law (she was sitting on the bride's side of the aisle)! What a way to start off that relationship!

I need to get back to work if only to be a part of the ruckus once more.

The Fragrance of Love

John 12: 1-8

****** Congregational Church, Bridgeport, CT

March 25, 2007

“If God was a smell, what would God smell like?” I asked that question of a group of church members in an adult Lenten study. The answers were many and varied: a campfire, the ocean, clean laundry, baking bread, rain, the hair on a baby’s head, freshly mown hay or grass, pine needles on a warm day, dirt. People named those things that gave them comfort and connected them to nature, to a memory.

Our sense of smell is one of the most potent of the five senses, because it has the power to bring us back in time to a place, a person, an experience and make it real for us. For instance, I love the smell of celery and onions sautéing in butter because it reminds me of my mother making her Southern cornbread dressing and of her cooking in general. The aroma of coffee brewing and bacon frying takes me back to my grandparents’ house in Mississippi when I was a little girl. Whenever I am in an office supply store, the smell of Scotch tape and ink and paper remind me of my childhood church and the office that contained a mimeograph machine on which the Sunday bulletins were printed.

Human beings can recognize more than 10,000 different scents or odorants. We have hundreds of olfactory receptor neurons in our nasal passages, each receptor encoded by a specific gene. If we do not possess a certain gene, then we have difficulty picking up particular scents.

The sense of smell is an important character in this passage and in the one leading up to it. In chapter 11 in John’s gospel, Jesus arrives four days too late to save his friend Lazarus from death. When he asks to have the stone taken away from the tomb, Martha, the sister of the dead man, says to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” The body has already begun to decompose; according to belief, a sign that the spirit or soul had left the body and resuscitation therefore impossible. But for Jesus, with whom nothing is impossible, this permeating odor of death is but a mere whiff of the perfume of resurrection to come. He then prays to God and calls forth Lazarus, who emerges from the tomb, the smelly graveclothes still clinging to his face and body.

Now, in this morning’s passage, the scene has changed completely. Lazarus now washed and clean, is host to Jesus and his disciples for dinner. His sister Martha serves the dinner but not contentiously as she did in the Lukan story between her and her sister Mary. There is no resentment about serving this time; the Greek word for ‘serve’ is used in the tradition of a deacon. There are the pleasant aromas of roasted meat and bread and wine and the air dense with the emotions of contentment, joy, and the intense feeling that very soon it is all about to end, for in raising Lazarus, Jesus has signed his own death warrant.

Into this charged atmosphere enters Mary with a jar of perfume made from pure nard. The word ‘nard’ comes from spikenard, a flowering plant that grows in the Himalayas of China, India, and Nepal, which explains why it is so costly. Its underground stems can be crushed and distilled into an intensely aromatic, amber-colored essential oil, very thick in consistency. It was a luxury item in the ancient world, something that would be used to anoint the head of a king; perhaps the body of a beloved brother but not the feet of a poor itinerant rabbi. To anoint the feet would be part of preparing a body for burial. And to wipe Jesus’ feet Mary lets down her hair, something a woman would do only for her husband or in grief.

Mary, sister of Lazarus, is the prodigal in this story. In her whole manner we see wasteful extravagance. She unleashes the potent fragrance of love into the dinner banquet, disrupting the heady scent of the meal and the mood of Judas, who reeks of stinginess and the betrayal to come. She does not use ordinary oil but one that is costly and pungent: the whole house is filled with its perfume. She lets loose her hair, like a lover would, as a spontaneous gesture of her gratitude for her brother and a sign of her exuberant affection for Jesus. She does not wait for his burial to give him her best but anoints him now, alive in her home, where she can enjoy his company and presence.

This lavish act of extravagant love is Mary’s prophecy of Jesus’ death: God’s lavish act of extravagant love in human flesh. Jesus’ death is indeed wasteful extravagance; there is nothing prudent or economical about God’s love on the cross. And there is nothing prudent or economical in Mary’s discipleship. In her unrestrained display of devotion we see the portrayal of supreme faithfulness. While Judas plays the role of bean counter (and not a very honest one at that), Mary in her filling the whole house with the fragrance of her love for Jesus fulfills the role of one passionate in love and service. The smell of death may be on the heels of Jesus but Mary witnesses to the overwhelming persistence of God’s love, that God’s love smells sweeter and stronger than death itself.

But I wonder: does God’s love always smell pleasant and sweet? Can God’s love smell like the sweat of migrant workers picking coffee, oranges, and grapes; the sweat of day laborers mowing grass, laying brick, tarring roofs? Can God’s love reek of a person who hasn’t bathed in days or months? Can God’s love stink of prison cells and tenement hallways and dingy nursing homes, battlefields and refugee camps? Jesus said that we would always have the poor with us but not always him. What did he mean by that? Do not all of us deserve a roof over our heads, health care, nutrition, clean water, clean clothes, clean hair, teeth and bodies, to know that we will never have to question these things?

Jesus was quoting from the book of Deuteronomy, chapter 15, verse 11: "Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.’" The stench of poverty cannot be covered up with sweet-smelling platitudes, like Judas. If God’s love stinks, it stinks of the need for justice, for peace, and for resurrection. The sweet smell of God’s love reminds us of the extravagant gift we have been given, that continues to be lavished on us daily. The rank odor of God’s love is a pungent call to give extravagantly, wastefully to those who are always with us but to give as though there may not be a tomorrow.

A year ago I was with 12 other persons from my church on a mission trip to Oaxaca, Mexico to work with the 80 or so children of Casa Hogar Benito Juarez children’s home. The children themselves have a mission: to bring lunch twice a week to the 40 or so resident worker families of the Oaxaca City dump. These families toil from sunup to sundown picking plastic bottles out of the trash to be recycled for what amounts to about a dollar a week. Wednesday of our week there it was our turn to bring lunch. Before we could see the dump we could smell it. As we pulled into an abandoned transfer station, our sense of smell was overwhelmed by the stench of rotting garbage in the hot sun. It clung to our clothes and our hair in a minor way, such that we could only begin to appreciate what these families live with and work in each day.

We handed out sandwiches, oranges, and drinks, and ever so slowly this stinky dump morphed into a home, their home, with a hesitant yet warm hospitality. We shared a meal together, our sense of taste miraculously unaffected by the odor around us. That time spent in makeshift community was a whiff of the kingdom of God, that aromatic banquet table shared by all God’s children. One afternoon may not seem like much, but it was wasteful when one considers the time and expense it took just to have lunch in a dump in Mexico. And since that brief week in May, we have been aching to return, eager to meet once again our brothers and sisters at the dump and the glorious children of Casa Hogar.

One day our opportunity to serve will come to an end; the fragrance of our love will diminish and fade. At some point it will be too late. How is God calling you, ****** Congregational Church, to give today and to give lavishly, wastefully? How do you as a congregation define waste, extravagance? What sorts of limits have you placed on what you spend or give away or use, that define what is "reasonable," and what is "excessive"? How do you think about your giving and your gestures of love and generosity, the things that come from deepest within your hearts? God is not yet finished with you; how is the day and the moment before you in such a way that your acts of extravagant generosity can wait no longer? What does God’s love smell like in this church, in this time and place?

The fragrance of love is both sweet and smelly, heady and rank, perfume and sweat. It is seizing the moment to give what we have, not counting the cost. It is uninhibited, exuberant, exultant love celebrated and cherished in the here and now. It is a sacrificial, humble, extravagant gift of God that has the power to permeate our lives, resurrect us, and transform us into new beings. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Parable of the Two Beloved Sons

Psalm 32; Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32
****** Congregational Church, Bridgeport, CT
March 18, 2007

A few weeks ago at our church's jr. high Pilgrim Fellowship meeting I was introduced to a great book entitled More Would You Rather?: 465 More Provocative Questions to Get Teenagers Talking. Some examples of the questions: Would you rather pet a porcupine or lick a cactus? Wear platform shoes or 6" stilettos? Get locked out of the house naked or trip and fall at your wedding? Spend a night in a bed full of itching powder or wear a poison-ivy suit for a week? Stuck in a mental institution surrounded by patients or in an elevator with a dozen therapists? A bullet to the chest or a knife in the back? A quick, painful death or a long boring life?

The questions are “either/or” to get us thinking. Neither answer is better than the other, but how we answer sheds some light on who we are and on perhaps the person we’d like to become. I’d like to use some “Would you rather…?” questions about the gospel lesson to start off the sermon.

Would you rather sit at table and share a meal with tax collectors and sinners or would you rather stand with the scribes and the Pharisees? Would you rather eat with a prostitute, an arms dealer, a terrorist, a thief, a gang member, and a child molester with Jesus at the head of the table, serving and smiling at everyone? Or would you rather be with the local clergy association who are meeting with a group of lawyers to make sure that their liability insurance is up to snuff but can’t keep their eyes off Jesus and the folks he is eating with?

By associating with the outcasts of his day, in plain sight of the religious authorities, Jesus is asking this question of those present: would you rather join me or stay where you are? And he answers the question by telling three stories, one of which is the story of the prodigal and his brother.

Who would you rather be? Would you rather be the younger son in the story or the older son? Would you rather be selfish, have the time of your life only to wind up homeless and hungry, repentant and willing to be a servant in your father’s house, then be forgiven by your father and have a lavish party thrown for you? Or would you rather be faithful, diligent, self-sacrificing, live a comfortable life, have your father’s constant love, but be unable to forgive your brother, possibly miss out on his homecoming party, and be estranged from your loving father?

Since this is a parable, the story can be read on several levels. At its simplest, the story is about birth order, about an oldest child and the youngest child, one the hero, the other spoiled. Or is it good kid/bad kid pitted against one another to see who gets the father’s attention?

Freud might characterize the father and two sons/brothers this way: The younger son represents the id, that part of us that is about self-gratification. The older son represents the superego, the conscience, knowing right from wrong. The father represents the ego, the reality test that mediates between the id and the superego.

At a faith level it is a story about Israel’s children to whom Jesus was sent and the Gentiles who were coming into the faith before and during the time this gospel was written, around 70 CE. There were serious questions referring to the Jewish purity laws, about what food was allowed; was circumcision required; what kind of lives had the Gentiles led before committing themselves to the Way of Jesus. We can hear the voice of Jewish Christians in the elder brother and his refusal to accept his younger brother of the faith, these Gentile Christians who do not appreciate the history and relationship of God with the Jews. How can a covenant with God be shared and include those who may have no idea what it means to live in covenant with one another? How can the prodigal Gentile, those were once unclean and considered to be depraved, be called brother, sister?

Who can tell me what ‘prodigal’ means? I had thought that it meant ‘lost’; in some translations of the Bible, the story is entitled “The Parable of the Lost Son”. The word ‘prodigal’ has been used popularly to mean ‘one who has strayed and has now returned’, perhaps with the connotation of repentance included.

Wanting to be accurate, I looked it up in the dictionary. What I found surprised me; it means to be wastefully extravagant, to squander, to lavish. In fact, I think it would be very difficult to be frugally extravagant. It is easy to see that the younger son was wastefully extravagant and foolishly so, but truly both were prodigal sons. The younger son was prodigal of the flesh: he was wastefully extravagant upon himself and the pleasures of the flesh. The older son was prodigal of the spirit: inwardly he starved himself of joy, squandering his father’s extravagant goodwill and generosity by never asking for that party with his friends, which his father surely would have given him.

At its deepest level, this story is about Jesus as the ultimate prodigal son and his ‘older brother’, the tradition of the Law and the Prophets from which he came yet he seemed to flout again and again. Theologian Karl Barth depicted Jesus as the one who left the Father to travel into the far country to share tables with sinners, loving wastefully and extravagantly. It was Jesus who said, who reminded those who kept the Law, that the Law could be summed up in two commandments: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength. And the second is like the first: you shall love your neighbor as yourself (Luke 10: 27).

This story is the heart of the gospel, the Good News of Jesus in a nutshell. This and the parable of the Good Samaritan are the most well-known stories and teachings of Jesus among both churched and non-churched folks alike. It is the central message of the whole New Testament, the essence of the Christian faith. Simply said, it is this: God is love: wasteful, extravagant, unconditional love. And Jesus is the embodiment, the incarnation of that love.

Retired Episcopal bishop John Shelby Spong puts it this way:
“God is the Source of Life who is worshiped when we live fully. God is the Source of Love who is worshiped when we love wastefully. God is the Ground of Being who is worshiped when we have the courage to be.”
Jesus loved wastefully and extravagantly when he sat at table with sinners AND when he included the scribes and Pharisees in the telling of his parables.

I had asked you whether you would rather be the younger brother or the older brother. We usually tend to think in either/or questions, but God’s love is a both/and answer. It doesn’t matter whether you are the younger son or the older son, God wants everyone at the lavish party of reconciliation and forgiveness. It doesn’t matter whether we are Jew or Gentile, male or female, slave or free, sinner or righteous, wasteful or frugal, lost or found—God wants all of us, no matter who we are. God is wastefully extravagant, for we can never squander God’s love; there is no end to it. To be sure, we can suffer when we turn away from that love; we can abuse God’s goodwill but God will always be there, waiting for us to come to ourselves, to come to our senses, to repent and turn to find God running toward us, God waiting for us to join the party.

And in the end that is what the story is really about, what the true title of the parable should be: The Waiting Father.(1) This story gives us the whole picture of who God is and thus, what we are called to do and be as God’s children. We are called to love wastefully and extravagantly and lavishly, especially those whom society would call outcasts, especially those who are not sure they are welcome at God’s celebration, at God’s table. We are called to forgive one another and search out the hurt and forgotten as God has done with us. God is the seeking and yearning one who comes offering a restored relationship. We who have been restored and raised to new life worship God when we offer those gifts to others unrestrainedly.

And so I ask you, ****** Congregational Church, what do you seek, what do you yearn for this Lenten season? How are you wastefully extravagant with the inheritance and blessings that God has given you? How does this community of faith see itself—as the younger brother or the older brother or both? What would help you in your striving to be the forgiving father? In what ways do you need to come to yourself, to your senses, to repent and turn? What has been your experience of church tradition meeting new interpretations? When was the last time you had a party together and truly enjoyed each other, inviting any and all to the celebration?

Jesus’ greatest gift to us is that he invites us “to step into [our] own humanity so deeply that [we] will find it a doorway to God”.(2) We step into that depth of humanity when we love as Jesus loved, that is, extravagantly and wastefully, so much so that he gave his life. Thanks be to God. Amen.


(1) Helmut Thielicke, German theologian and preacher.
(2) John Shelby Spong, A New Christianity for a New World.

Sales, not management

I just started a volunteer job as a chaplain assistant in the pastoral care dept. at a local Catholic hospital. Every Wednesday for about four hours (minus lunch) I visit patients on the cardiac floor. It's an interesting dynamic, different from a pastor visiting a parishioner, even those church members I've never met before. I don't represent a church or particular faith tradition or any at all, for that matter. I meet patients where they are, most of them men, offer to be of help to them, engage them in conversation, and pray with them, if they request it. Many times I am not asked to pray with patients so we visit, briefly or for a few minutes. Sometimes I am asked if I can do anything to get the doctor in sooner and get them released from the hospital. If it seems appropriate, I'll reply with "I'm in sales, not management" (in my experience, chaplains and pastors are often asked to do things they have no control over, i.e., "Can you do anything about this rain, heat, etc.?"). The laughter eases the tension so we can talk about their anger, fear, anxiety about being in the hospital because of their heart, a very scary thing indeed.

My direct supervisor is Sr. Victoria Nolan, a Sister of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul--retired from the pastoral care staff but now a volunteer, 88 years old with macular degeneration and a joy to be with. We usually eat lunch together and she tells me stories about her career as a nun. What a life she is living!

Today, just a few funny things happened that made the day interesting:

Before I went upstairs to visit folks, I went to the ladies room. As I was sitting 'doing my business' I looked over at the stall next to mine and saw two feet pointed the other way! Whoever he was, he finished quickly and left before I could ask him why he had to invade my privacy.

At the behest of a spouse of a patient, I went down to Security to ask about a parking pass. I was waiting behind a group of students. One of them, a man in his late twenties, early thirties said, "Let the young lady go ahead of us." That's nice coming from someone older than you, but younger it sounds like kissing up or just plain stupid. I wish I had had the nerve to ask him just how young he thought I was.

Lastly, I went into a patient's room, he was on the phone, I said I was from pastoral care, should I come back; he said "no", he didn't need a visit. When I reached the hallway, I heard him say into the phone "It was the Church!", like you would comment about something else pointless, unnecessary and irksome. ...And I'm racking my brain trying to think of something as universally pointless and irksome as the Church is to a lot of folks. Let that be your challenge for today. I'd like to know what you come up with.

Also, I'm reading a very funny teen book entitled An Abundance of Katherines by John Green. It's about a high school prodigy named Colin who is disasterously attracted to girls named Katherine. He's just been dumped by K-19 and goes on a summer road trip with his friend Hassan ("I'm not a terrorist."). If you like anagrams, a smattering of math, and quirky humor, you'll love this book. If you're thinking of recommending it to a young person, ages 13-17 would be appropriate (the word "fug" is used quite a bit; something I would not want my 10 yr. old picking up).

No parting words come to mind. Ciao!

Amazing grace/Not a hiding place

When the Christian Right gets excited about a film and urges folks to see it, the hair on the back of my neck rises, usually because the whole story is not being told.

Though the film is about William Wilberforce, who instigated the abolition of the British slave trade, many viewers will focus on its theme song and its author/composer, John Newton, a former slave trader. This hymn has become an anthem for our nation. It was included in the hymnals of Civil War soldiers. During the 1960's it was sung during civil rights protests. It was the most performed song in the memorial services occuring after 9/11.

It's a song about grace, that divine gift of unconditional love and acceptance, one that we wholeheartedly claim for ourselves but have difficulty sharing with others. Notice that the lyrics are written in the first person singular:

"Amazing grace/how sweet the sound/that saved a wretch like me/I once was lost/but now am found/Was blind but now I see".

The only inclusive verse is the last one, which was added from another hymn in 1790, eleven years after Newton penned his faith:

"When we've been there 10,000 years/bright shining as the sun/We've no less days to sing God's praise/then when we first begun".

A few years back I was writing a sermon based on the flood narrative in Genesis when I came upon another hymn of Newton's, "The Hiding Place". One verse in particular illuminated this man's faith and the faith of the Church at the time of King George III:

"You have only to repose/On my wisdom, love, and care/Where my wrath consumes my foes/Mercy shall my children spare/While they perish in the flood/You that bear my holy mark/Sprinkled with atoning blood/Shall be safe within the ark."

The ark was the Church, that hiding place for those who bear God's holy mark, i.e., baptism and the blood of Christ from the cross. Grace was for those who realized their sinful ways and turned; those who did not turn faced God's wrath. The theology of grace had not yet progessed to its inclusive, universal vision, at least, not in England.

Those who read this blog who are Unitarian Universalists know far more about this than I do, but Universalist thought in Christian theology dates back as far as St. Gregory of Nyssa in the 4th century. Universalism emerged in the American colonies as a denomination in 1793. Universalism rejects the notion of eternal damnation; instead it declares the existence of an all-loving God, who welcomes the whole of creation into redemptive relationship.

Grace isn't only about me or you; it's about us, all of us on this earth in need of forgiveness and right relationship with one another and with the Mystery that created all that there is. It's about community: inclusive, ever-widening, extravagant community.

The movie's website also lists a mission called The Amazing Change Campaign, which seeks to end slavery everywhere in the world. While ending child slavery and debt slavery is very much a justice issue that needs to be dealt with, there is another slavery that we see every day and it's called poverty; its slaves are the working poor of our country. If we're going to end slavery in this world, let's includes all the slaves, including each of us and the ways we are chained to the powers that be in this world. Free others, and free yourself in the process.

The Church is not a hiding place and neither is God. God and the Church may be our refuge for a time, but eventually we are called out into the world to share the love and redemption we have received so that all may know the freedom of grace.

Beauty tips for ministers

What do you get when you cross a fashion maven with a Masters in Divinity?

A blog with help for those in desperate need of style! If you thought the devil wore Prada, the clergy wears what PeaceBang says we should wear! She's a petite fashionista, with a dash of Linda Richmond and dimples. And she's also going to be featured on Nightline tonight, so tune in.

In PeaceBang's words: "Because you're in the public eye, and God knows you need to look good".

P.S. This entry may seem to be a stark contrast to the one below but I also realize the value of good humor and not taking things too seriously, especially myself. And let's face it: we live in a body with all manner of idiosyncracies and peccadilloes of its own. As Dolly Parton said in Steel Magnolias "It takes a lot of effort to look like this". PeaceBang has an eye for the bargain and for items that will last over the long haul. She also lives and works on the south shore of Massachusetts where I grew up, the milieu of my people, as it were. Just fun stuff.

"The Secret" of faith

More magical thinking from the world of self-help. Apparently the "secret" to getting everything you want is "ask, believe, receive", the shorthand form of words of Jesus but taken entirely the wrong way. Qui-Gon Jinn in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace said much the same thing but with an eastern twist: Where you place your focus determines your reality. Still, he wasn't talking about material goods either.

I agree with the premise that the mind and its thoughts and intentions are a source of great power but a power that we are much too immature as a species to use wisely (see Global Consciousness Project). There may be indeed a law of attraction whereby events, material goods, health, and other desirables gravitate towards us (or us towards them). But do we ever consider how all these things come to pass? Sure, a new BMW parked in the driveway would be great, we think, but it didn't just poof, arrive out of nowhere. Resources and materials were culled and assembled, mostly likely at the environment's expense, by many persons with many different lives and contexts, often not paid a living wage. A great amount of fuel is used to ship automobiles to their final destination. Whatever we want, it almost always involves other people and the life of this earth. Do we ever take into consideration how what we want will affect those whose job it is to produce it?

In a most marvelous book, Mutant Message Down Under, the Aborigines in the narrative always begin their petitions to the divine with the words if it is in my highest good and the highest good for all of life everywhere. You'd think this would be our heart's desire but we do not trust the divine to know what our highest good is, not really anyway.

Some would say that human beings are naturally selfish, that it is part of our biological heritage, a survival tactic but something we have to live with and try our best to overcome. I don't believe that. We are selfish because we learned as a species to be fearful that there isn't enough. And so we hoard and stock up, separate ourselves from the earth and from each other, thinking that we are safe, that it is because of our efforts that we have enough. Most of us have more than enough and can afford to live with less, yours truly included. Poverty is not a judgment on the poor for not trying hard enough but on everyone else.

Having faith, whatever it is you believe in, implies an ethic, a certain moral behavior, unless what you believe in is only yourself. What is the point of faith, of belief, if it doesn't pull you out of yourself, your little corner of the world and cause you to grow and better the world around you? And not bettering the world by Oprah-fying it but by leaving as little a footprint on the earth as possible and a huge impression upon the lives of others.

P.S. Here's what Barbara Ehrenreich had to say about The Secret.

Life after death

Today I crashed a memorial service. I've officiated at numerous funerals and memorials for persons I did not know, but this is one of the few times I've attended one for someone I had never met. I went with a friend for whom the deceased was a mentor, teacher, colleague and friend. My friend is still grieving the loss of her mother, who died last summer, so I went for support and friendship.

It was the first Unitarian Universalist memorial I had ever experienced. While it was beautiful, poetic, full of music and tribute to this wonderful woman's life, there were no words of resurrection. And I don't mean the resurrection of Jesus. I didn't expect that. What I mean is words of rebirth and hope for those present who obviously were going to miss this person. "Love never ends" was proclaimed several times, but for me it was not enough. What of this woman's spirit; does it not live on in those whose lives she touched, apparently too numerous to count? Isn't it still possible to encounter her warmth, her love, her humor on a daily basis, simply through memory and through the sharing of those memories? All of those persons she nurtured in the art of pastoral care; when they impart that gift to others, is she not immortal? None of this was ever really declared, not with any passion or conviction. Even if we cannot absolutely know that there is a God and be simply humble and awed in the presence of creation, still we can be passionate and convicted in our awe and humility that something has grasped our hearts and minds mightily.

I was left with no question as to who this incredible woman was to this world and that she lived a life well-lived. I was left with many questions concerning this congregation's view of an incarnational universe apart from Jesus. Can we relate to the universe as incarnational without a belief in Jesus as the son of God? I believe so, and it would have lent more power to this service which honored a powerful woman. We celebrated her life; what was missing was the celebration of the life-giving force within and among all life that is always creating, that never dies.

Get talking

Last night at our church's jr. high Pilgrim Fellowship meeting I was introduced to a great book entitled More Would You Rather?: 465 More Provocative Questions to Get Teenagers Talking. Some examples: Would you rather pet a porcupine or lick a cactus? Wear platform shoes or 6" stilettoes? Legalize marijuana or pornography? Get locked out of the house naked or trip and fall at your wedding? Spend a night in a bed full of itching powder or wear a poison-ivy suit for a week? Stuck in a mental institution surrounded by patients or in an elevator with a dozen therapists? Sniff an armpit or lick a foot? A bullet to the chest or a knife in the back? A quick, painful death or a long boring life?

This book not only got the kids talking but also the adults, and all of us laughing hysterically. It's the second in a series that was written for youth group leaders, but it could also be used at any adult gathering as well: dinner parties, work meetings, family reunions, outings with friends, you name it. There are also religious questions, which can also be used or omitted. And you may be inspired to write your own. Would you rather accompany a woman on a shopping spree that will cost you nothing or stay home and pay the bill? Would you rather spend a month as the opposite sex or a week having to wear their clothes on your body, living your life? Would you rather things continue as they are, everywhere, or would you rather risk your way of life so that the world might change?

What will it take to get us talking, really talking, at a level that has the power to move mountains? And what will it take to get us to listen?

I have decided...

NPR has re-established a series entitled "This I Believe": listeners write essays that espouse personal beliefs emerging from their own life experiences. And no sermons or religious statements allowed. I've been reflecting about what I would say if spirituality and faith could not play a part. This is what I've come up with.

I believe in the power of decision to change one's life so that it does not imitate the past but inspires a different vision of the future.

I grew up in an alcoholic family and from there all sorts of dysfunction arose, all kinds of patterns that could be repeated in my generation. I remember being in college, at a house party, thoroughly drunk on wine, and then tossing it up over the railing of the front porch into the snow below. I was disgusted with myself and nauseous with shame. I then decided I would not repeat my father's life, a recovered alcoholic who smoked until the day he died of a heart attack, who left his vocation because it broke his body and his spirit. I still enjoy beer and wine--just one drink at a time. I became a minister like my father but because I wanted to help others and serve God, and it made me happy (as described in the Beatitudes). I decided to not smoke cigarettes. I decided to be healthy but not give up everything between me and my feelings. I decided I wanted to be a whole person, one who is generous, kind, and loving but still swears occasionally, eats too much every now and then, loses her temper once in a while, and has a weakness for the material things in life.

I also decided to do things I had no real model for: I gave birth to both my children naturally and breastfed them until they were @ 18 months old. I decided to stay home with them, though I never really decided to put aside pastoral ministry, which has made for great internal (and external) struggle. I decided I would stay married to my chosen partner, that we would take our marriage vows seriously and work together to learn how to love each other into old age. My husband and I have decided to live simpler lives, to give away a portion of our income so that others may simply live, to quote a bumper sticker.

At one point in my sojourn through Al-Anon, one of the other members gave me the greatest gift. She said, "One of these days you have to decide to say 'Fuck it. Being the child of an alcoholic does not have to define who I am'". Since then I have made that decision again and again as I applied that wisdom to other areas of my past that I have allowed to have power over me.

A friend from seminary once asked me what I thought it meant to be an adult. I answered, "Making decisions and being responsible for their outcomes." By no means does my life resemble that of my parents when they were my age; that was part of why I made certain decisions. I also made those decisions so that I would be responsible for my own happiness, my own misery, no one else.

George Bush may have sounded like an idiot when he said it, but for me it is truth: I am the decider. I need to be conscious of who I am, what motivates me, and that I am ultimately responsible for my life and how my decisions affect others.

Having the power to make decisions is the power to create who we will be, not just in our individual lives but as a human race. We can decide if we are a violent species or a peaceful, resourceful one, if there is scarcity or abundance, if there is to be an end to humanity or if this is just the beginning of our evolution. And like a vow or a covenant, these decisions must be renewed again and again if they are to have the strength to be carried through.

Under all this is the decision to believe that humankind will choose the good, to trust that the will toward the good, the just, and the loving is stronger than the will cowed in fear.

Resist the powers of evil

Last night I attended the ecclesiastical council of the new associate pastor of my church. In UCC polity, the Church and Ministry committee of a local association recommends candidates for an examination before they can be approved for ordination. This examination is called an ecclesiatical council. Members of local churches in the association, pastors, and guests can attend to listen to the candidate present their ordination paper and then ask them just about anything they want and/or make comments about the paper. It is the most daunting task leading up to ordination. Last night's proceedings were no different. The candidate, now ordinand (yes, she passed), told me this morning that 42 hours of labor was easier!

The question that was the most pressing was about evil: what is evil, what does it look like, how do we confront it, had she had any personal experience with evil? In the UCC statement of faith we speak the words "You call us into your church...to proclaim the gospel to all the world and resist the powers of evil...". Part of the prophetic call is identifying evil, pointing it out like a signpost, naming the 800 lb. gorrilla in the middle of the room, that we might turn from that evil but also turn our justice hearts and minds towards ending the root of that evil.

During my own ecclesiastical council I was asked to spin for 4 or 5 minutes about the power of evil. My answer eventually distilled down to evil being fear combined with power that takes advantage of the fearful yet powerless. A colleague of mine said to me last evening that he believes that there are no evil people; people do evil, ugly, unconscionable things but all persons are children of God, created by God. It is fear that separates us from God and from one another. It is fear that creates intolerance, prejudice, hatred, violence, the need for domination and control, and the belief that we are innately a violent species.

O'Murchu in his book Evolutionary Faith gives this chilling observation:

"Ironically, it is at the height of our so-called civilized status that we became a distinctly barbaric species. Why? Largely because we set ourselves up as the ones who could conquer and control creation, and in that process we began to rupture the womb from which all life is begotten. ...At root, our angst is not about our humanness; it is about the deprivation that ensues when we cut ourselves off from the womb of universal life."
pp. 148-49

He contends that humans had the capacity for spirituality long before religion, even language, that we comprehended and cooperated with the surrounding environment in a way that gave meaning and purpose. It was when we sought to subdue the earth and all its inhabitants, when the need to control our fear became our purpose and meaning, that evil entered the world: the creation narratives in Genesis 1-3. However, it is important we remember that we were created for blessing, not fear; for relationship with all life, not estrangement; for continuing the evolutionary story, not for its submission and annihilation.

The whole of creation is the embodiment of Spirit, of life, of creative change. It is God's first and most precious gift of revelation. Embracing this goodness, this power, this love revealed and sharing it with others gives us the strength to resist the seduction of our fears and to work toward wholeness.

The comedy stylings of....

This is a blog dedicated to one of the bravest men I know (the first being my husband because he's married to me). Quentin is a self-proclaimed bum who is making comedy more than just a hobby. A few months ago he made his debut at a local comedy club and now posts jokes of the day (week, moment, whatever) on YouTube. To my way of thinking, there is nothing scarier than standing up in front of a crowd positing your own brand of humor and waiting for a laugh.

He's dry, he's fresh (not terribly clean, like Barack Obama), and all with a merry twinkle in his eyes...yes, he's a cranky Santa Claus soaked in a martini, which his wife Sue probably needs every time he gets up on stage!

Let's give him a big round of applause, the man from Smeltzer Nation, Quentin Smeltzer! (not his real name...obviously a nom de plume)

Shadows

Well, the little rodent didn't see his shadow. It seems that global warming has affected even the meteorological predictions of hybernating garden thieves. But then I see don't how we in the east can have an early spring when winter has barely made an appearance.

But the Boston police upstaged the groundhog by seeing their own shadow two days before, the episode costing about $750,000. The two culprits who placed the Lite-Brite displays around the Boston area are being charged with staging a hoax that induced panic and one count of disorderly conduct. However, it seems no one is charging the police department as the ones who actually incited panic by closing down highways and bridges because of these 'sinister' contraptions with a 'battery' and 'wires'. These devices used in a Turner ad campaign have been been in place in 9 other major cities for two to three weeks with no other reports of a bomb scare. Instead of looking for their shadow, perhaps the Boston police department needs to start watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

Yet the human shadow over the face of the earth is growing. Unfortunately, though, a panic has not begun in reaction to this news. Those who have the power to effect change could be tempted to just throw their hands up in the air, letting us all off the hook. But this could also be what unites us as a planet and a people: joining together to preserve our home. And if you haven't seen An Inconvenient Truth, you're the groundhog today.

Who you gonna call?

I serve on the Committee on Ministry on behalf my local association in the Connecticut Conference of the United Church of Christ. This committee's work and concern is that of authorized ministry (ordained, commissioned, licensed) within local churches. Some of our work includes giving support to pastors, receiving persons into a minimum 2-year discernment process toward authorized ministry, and holding clergy accountable for any misconduct.

Currently I am advising two persons toward ordination. During the discernment process, that is, perceiving the call of the Spirit, we talk a great deal about what kind of call toward ministry a person has received. Theologian H. Richard Niebuhr speaks of a four-fold understanding of call:

1. The Christian call: This is a call to live a life of Christian faith and discipleship that matures over one's lifetime. It is the foundation of all attitude and behavior, no matter what one's given vocation or profession.
2. The Secret call: This refers to the passion of the Spirit in the life of the individual when one considers specific Christian service, such as a missionary, a pastor, a chaplain, or a volunteer.
3. The Providential call: This is the secret call lived out and affirmed by others in the form of one's gifts and suitability for ministry. One shows a willingness to make what changes are necessary to answer the call and align one's life toward this call.
4. The Ecclesial call: This process involves the individual, God and the Church, as ministry is about the needs of the Church, not the needs of the individual person seeking to serve.

Often, the Christian call is confused with the secret call: one experiences a conversion from one sort of life to another, a falling-in-love with God and with community, and wishes to give one's life in service but that does not necessarily entail ordained ministry. In the discernment process it is important to explore one's call, for not all who wish to follow God are suited for pastoring a church.

The trouble is, over the years we've exalted the ordained ("Reverend", a Master's of Divinity degree) to the point that one's ego inevitably gets involved. Ordination becomes the goal rather than the means towards being a faithful servant of Christ. When I reflect on my own sense of call, I sometimes wonder if I, too, got the first two confused. One of the passages I chose for my ordination service ended with the verse "...what will they give in return for their life?" (Matt. 16: 26b) Becoming a pastor was my answer to that question.

I sometimes wonder if I really was meant for the church as a pastor, especially since I left full-time ministry ten years ago to stay home with my children. I never really had a chance to test myself. I'm not looking for reassurance; I'm seriously considering the path I have chosen. I once heard it said that sometimes one has to step off the path in order to find it. But every time I'm in the pulpit, preaching a message I am compelled to share, or singing for a congregation, or celebrating Communion, or offering comfort at a funeral, or praying with folks, I know I'm in the right place. It's all the other stuff that's expected that I am not qualified for nor am I interested in doing: fundraising, administrating a staff, being 'in charge' of everything. In our Congregational polity I thought we were all supposed to be in charge. But congregations still defer to the pastor in differing measures.

Elizabeth O'Connor wrote in her book Letters to Scattered Pilgrims that churches are to be seminaries to educate and prepare laypeople as ministers in the world, what the first letter of Peter calls "the priesthood of all believers" (1 Peter 2:9). Pastors are those who dedicate their lives toward that end; no better, no worse than any other human being, yet striving for excellence and beauty in their ministry. Yes, we should expect our leaders to be educated, trained, and faithful but the same standard needs to be used with all members of the Body in order to nurture that priesthood and call forth that costly, joyous discipleship.

I would be interested to hear from you, dear reader, about your passion deep within, how the Spirit is moving in your life, calling to you....what? How is your passion made manifest in your life?

Shaking of the Foundations*

Yeah, I haven't been around in a while. Some anonymous hack called me a 'slacker' in the comments section of my last blog entry. :-/ My vocation, even though I'm not currently working full-time, requires reading and reflection, the fruits of which do not coalesce on a whim. My full-time profession of mother and wife often does not allow me enough solitude for the former. If readers are expecting something worth reading, then you will have to wait patiently. An alum from seminary, who writes a blog entitled "blooming cactus" containing brilliant theological reflection on scripture readings for a given Sunday, has Crohn's disease and sometimes cannot keep up with his blog. I don't have his excuse, however I do this for my enjoyment and my own sense of purpose and meaning, so kindly bug off.

Lately I have been reading Diarmuid O'Murchu's Evolutionary Faith. Reading this book is a response to the musings and feelings I have been having a long time about just what it is I believe in. The Jesus I follow would be one to say that in order for God to be God, there must also be no God. What we need to know to live as human beings has to be observable in the world and cosmos around us and within every life-form: the Spirit incarnate in every fiber of being, continuously creating, the Ground of all Being. This may sound like pantheism but really it's not. It's panentheism: God is immanent in the universe and yet also transcendent.

This quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer haunts me:

Our coming of age leads us to a true recognition of our situation before God. God would have us know that we must live as those who manage our lives without God. The God who is with us is the God who forsakes us. The God who lets us live in the world without the working hypothesis of God is the God before whom we stand continuously. Before God and with God we live without God.

...God is weak and powerless in the world and that is
precisely the way, the only way in which is he is with us to help us. (from Letters and Papers in Prison, p. 360)

These thoughts and feelings become particularly acute around Christmas. I tire of seeing and hearing the Christmas story as though it was written history. The movie The Nativity Story was much of the same thing, even creating a tableau of the shepherds, the light of the star, and the three Magi that would befit any suburban mantelpiece. Blech!

The power of the Christmas story is not in its literalism but in its metaphor and imagery, just like the rest of the Christian narrative. What has been missing from much of the popular discussion about this unique inbreaking of God is its place in the cosmic scheme reaching back billions of years that is not yet complete, that is still evolving.

In this age of violence we can no longer afford the luxury of being sectarian. There are worlds unknown whose inhabitants must also be asking the same questions of "Who am I?" and "What is my purpose?"; whose attempts at answering those questions must vary like the stars in the heavens.

It is time once again that our notions of who God is evolve and change.

"God is Spirit, and those who worship God must worship in spirit and truth." John 4: 24

(*Blog title borrowed from Paul Tillich's book of the same.)

Merry, merry...

Some Christmas humor to lighten what is supposed to be a joyful season:

A blonde goes to the post office to buy stamps for her Christmas cards. She says to the clerk, "May I have 50 Christmas stamps?"

The clerk says, "What denomination?"

The blonde says, "God help us, has it come to this? Give me 6 Catholic, 12 Presbyterian, 10 Lutheran and 22 Baptists."

One more...

A man in Phoenix calls his son in New York the day before Christmas and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough."

"Pop, what are you talking about?" the son screams.

"We can't stand the sight of each other any longer," the father says. "We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her."

Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. "Like heck they're getting divorced," she shouts, "I'll take care of this!" She calls Phoenix immediately, and screams at her father, "You are NOT getting divorced. Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he says, "they're coming for Christmas AND paying their own way."

I'll be here until the 24th. Remember to tip the guy in the red-and-white suit and put your loose change in the kettle.

Anniversary

15 years ago today I was ordained into the Christian ministry in the United Church of Christ. For a minister an ordination is right up there with one's wedding and the birth of one's children. It's a powerful experience. Words do not do it justice. But I'll try.

I wore my father's robe. I still wear it to this day whenever I preach during the cooler months as it is made out of a heavy poplin. I was supposed to be the last to enter in the procession but the moderator of our church (seen behind me in the last picture below) insisted I lead everyone in. My new colleague, Rev. Bill Youngkin from Dayton, OH, and two other gentlemen from the church I was serving, came to celebrate with me. My three closest girlfriends--one from high school, one from college, and one from seminary--all participated in the service. I sang a duet with a woman friend from the church I grew up in, this church in which I was being ordained; all the music in the service was from "Godspell". I was surrounded by people who had watched me grow up in the church and a huge crew from Andover Newton Theological School (see photo above), the seminary from which I graduated.



I hardly ate at all that whole day. I don't remember having breakfast before church that Sunday morning, and all I had for lunch was a bite of a pb & j, maybe a swig of milk. The ordination was at 5:00 p.m. with a reception afterward. I was so busy greeting family and friends that I didn't have a chance to nibble at the plate of food someone thoughtfully brought me. Then a select group of us adjourned to the Elks hall in Pembroke, MA for a dance with a dj, dessert, coffee and tea. Again, not a morsel passed my lips as we toasted, opened presents, and boogied the night away. The party broke up at around 10 p.m. but I was not ready to retire for the night. Two friends were headed for the Hard Rock Cafe in Boston and I asked if I could come with them. As we made our way toward the highway I asked if we could go through the drive-thru at Burger King; I was famished and could not wait until we made it to Boston. I did not go to bed until 2 a.m.!

I don't know if it was the Holy Spirit or pure adrenaline I was running on; perhaps a mixture of both. I do know that it was a great way to start the next chapter in my life. I wish everyone could have a day like that for the beginning of one's own life as an adult or when making a meaningful change: surrounded by friends and family, making promises and a commitment toward the future in front of God and everyone, and then a huge party afterward. It gives one the sense of being truly loved and of owing something back for all that has been received, a sense of being responsible in a joyful, giving way.



This was the opening prayer for the ordination service, written by Methodist minister/author Ted Loder. I return to it from time to time to remind me of who and where I came from and that God is still not finished with me.

Come, Lord Jesus,
expand me,
by your power, life-generating as the sea
to accept
and use my power
to do something I believe in
and be something more of who I mean to be
and can be;
to inspire me to dream and move,
sweat and sing,
fail and laugh,
cuss and create;
to link my passion with courage,
my hope with discipline,
my love with persistence;
to enable me to learn from difficulties,
grow in adversities,
gain wisdom from defeats,
perspective from disappointments,
gracefulness from crises,
and find joy
in simply living it all fully.
Release me through your power
to be a powerful person, Lord. Amen.

"I'm Too Much!"

Couldn't you just die?!

The perfect desk ornament. Put both up at the same time or switch on and off, depending on your Yuletide mood. Usually I can't stand Christmas decorations before December, let alone Thanksgiving, but these were just too much to pass up.

Is it me or does Snow Miser look a lot like the Winter Warlock in "Santa Claus is Coming to Town"? Actually, now that I think about it, Heat Miser bears a striking resemblance to the Burgermeister. You'd think the creative team behind these Christmas specials could be a little more, well, creative.

You can find them here. Be the first in your office.

November

Remember
remember the dead
and those still
with us draw breath
Remember veterans
and armistice
reasoning for war
the wreckage of a man’s
and a woman’s
living, family, a nation,
a world, that it never ends
anything but life

Remember to vote
that fierce whisper
amid the chattering clamor
power to say enough

Remember
a thwarted gunpowder plot
all those who would tear
asunder that which is joined

Remember to give thanks
not eat too much
make room at the table
and that Advent is coming soon
Remember me, he said
whenever you break bread
and pour wine to share

Remember
students in Prague
and the Velvet Revolution
the golden queen’s
ascension and deathbed
remember the Compassionate
One enthroned in Tibet
yet to return

Remember the owl
her silent flight beneath
Orion's watchful eye
the cloistered bee
the beauty of bare trees
a carpet of russet and gold
not to be seen for another year

Remember
the seed, the sunken bulb,
the misplaced acorn and walnut
the promise of life
cycled within death

Leave me alone...I'M VOTING!

(I put in the cartoon just because it's so damn true.)

I'm tired of the political mailings, 4 to 6 of them a day, from various candidates and committees. The ads on TV may have to be registered on the list of dangerous substances as they can cause headaches, drowsiness, coma, and feelings of suicide. A PAC, one of the many who have tried to nail us down, called my husband, wanting to know which way he was going to vote on Tuesday and he replied, "Yes, I am going to vote, and how I will vote is a private matter (PC for none of your business)." My sentiments exactly.

P.S. My husband, David, came up with the title to this blog.

P.P.S. Since when was 'nevermind' one word?!