Shouldn't Birds of a Feather...

Ephesians 4:1-6  ¹ I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called,  ² with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love,  ³ making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.  ⁴ There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling,  ⁵ one Lord, one faith, one baptism,  ⁶ one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

 Not long ago my wife and I brought dinner to some dear friends who recently celebrated the birth of their first child. Our time together was a warm experience full of joy and a palpable closeness that only such monumental life moments can generate. When reflecting on the word ‘community’ as part of a class assignment, I thought of this experience and these friends because they are two people (now three) whom I consider to be beloved parts of my community. They also came to mind because they are Orthodox Christians and my wife and I are Episcopalians—a divide that hasn’t caused any difficulty amongst us as friends, but that has created a largely, silent aching between us. By this I mean that as friends and as people whose faith is central to our lives, each of us would love nothing more than to worship alongside one another. I have come to view this yearning as a telling microcosm of the many rifts separating today’s global Christian body. I must confess to being deeply troubled by the divisions within Christ’s Church that have caused so many of us to no longer feel welcomed at each other’s tables, but having grown up in fragmentary, locally-focused Baptist and non-denominational churches, this concern over “catholicity”—in its truest, unified sense—is, for me, a newly acquired sensation.

   

 In part, it was this same desire for proximity and union that originally compelled my wife and me to leave our former church, which was Baptist, to join the Episcopal Church. For us, the Episcopal Church provides a life-giving sense of place within the cloud of saints who have come before us as well as sense of unity with fellow travelers throughout the worldwide Anglican Communion. This is by no means solves the issue, but we view it as a step in the right direction. For simplicity’s sake, I trace the emergence of my yearning for “catholicity” to my time in India volunteering with Mother Teresa’s order of Roman Catholic nuns and the scores of other Christians who had come from around the world to also volunteer there. That time gave me a generous understanding of the compassionate and justice oriented work we as Christ’s hands and feet on this earth are to be about. There, I also garnered a foretaste of what being a part of a unified body and the great work it could accomplish could be like. This place was also where I was first confronted by the seemingly, cold and exclusionary Roman Catholic practice of not allowing non-Catholics to share in the Eucharist. About a year later, while visiting a Catholic monastery in the U.S., my wife and I again faced this. Since those experiences, I have been troubled by the notion that we as Christians, who share a common narrative shaping our relationship with God, cannot seem to come together in unity around the same table.      

The rationales behind these fragmentary factions are legion, with probably several for each splintered denomination, but if the Church (universal) is to take Christ’s call for unity seriously we should be about the hard work of reconciliation. These words might be easy to write off as those of a starry-eyed, idealist, but scholar S. Steve Kang agrees that this work is vital and has some ideas that could possibly help those who would see the merit of this pursuit. In his book, A Many Colored Kingdom, Kang highlights the many voices that have emerged from the myriad of Christian cultures globally, each possessing their own distinct experiences, all relevant when interpreting scripture, and how none of these perspectives are without value.[1] Recognizing that many of today’s divisions stem from this variety of perspectives, Kang recommends that our focus shift away from these divisive issues towards those promoting, “the well-being of the entire kingdom of God—female and male, adults and children, black and white, rich and poor—through engaging in righting relationships among all people.”[2] While this may sound like a lofty or unattainable goal, I believe it is the work Ephesians chapter four calls us to.[3] But, inherent to this pursuit is the difficult, but necessary task of humbling ourselves, which requires the laying down of dogmatic opinions and the equalization of all voices. Efforts to build stronger bonds within the global Church will require an intentional listening to the host of existing voices and, as Kang believes, a concerted educational effort by Christian educators.[4]

 

While I do not expect these suggestions to suddenly pry open the gates currently barring Christian unity, I do write with the hope of illuminating a portion of the task we are to be about. While solutions, on a broad scale, may prove elusive, I believe smaller victories of communal restoration can and are taking place. As Eric Jacobson discusses in his book, Sidewalks in the Kingdom, true community can only exist within a required sphere of proximity.[5] Thus, rather than pouring our efforts into the largely nebulous, universal context, our most productive means is probably to concentrate on building ties with those we know and regularly interact with. For me, this brings to mind students of the college Bible study that I have had the privilege of leading for the past few years.  

The group’s members come from Catholic, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and non-denomination backgrounds, which, I believe, in today’s denominationally segregated climate, is quite exceptional. As a body, we strive to encourage openness and dialogue that fosters spiritual growth, all while seeking to know and understand the mystery that is God better. Scholar Elizabeth Conde-Frazier reminds us that each one of us possess the image of God. This is true regardless of our cultural or spiritual background. Our task is to learn to recognize that image in its many shapes and forms.[6] It is my contention that, because of each student’s varied history, we each act to shed light on the Divine from slightly different angles. This has proven to be enlightening for all. Furthermore, having shared in this experience, each of us is now less likely to one day write off people from different Christian traditions, which, given our present dilemma, may prove to be quite mending, one day.   

As we awaken to God’s desire for the Church be known by its love for one another, we must decide how to live into that communal calling. It would be easy to get lost in the argument that these suggestions simply overlook too many complex facets of this challenge, but that misses my point. Has not enough time been spent focusing on the obstacles holding us apart? Why should we believe that a further chasing of those questions will have any healing results? Gary Parrett points out that, “To love within a cultural context other than our own, we will likely need to let go of some things that have always been precious to us.” He then goes on to point out that Christ too had to empty himself.[7] What should be certain from the problem that I have outlined is the need for greater humility as we continue to work alongside one another. We must seek reconciliation within God’s unifying will. As we embark upon this journey, Kang recommends we, “take [our] cues from the vastness of God’s kingdom, namely the communion of saints which inextricably brings together the saints throughout history and all places.”[8] We can do so with assurance that our ultimate aim lies within the rich reward of holy friendships and the Godly inheritance of true community.

Bibliography

Elizabeth Conde-Frazier, S. Steve Kang, and Gary A. Parrett, A Many Colored Kingdom: Multicultural Dynamics for Spiritual Formation (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2004).

Eric O. Jacobsen, Sidewalks in the Kingdom: New Urbanism and the Christian Faith (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Brazos Press, 2003).

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[1] S. Steve Kang. A Many Colored Kingdom, 88.

[2] S. Steve Kang. A Many Colored Kingdom, 94.

[3] Ephesians 4:1-6

[4] S. Steve Kang. A Many Colored Kingdom, 94-96.

[5] Eric O. Jacobsen, Sidewalks in the Kingdom, 65.

[6] Elizabeth Conde-Frasier. A Many Colored Kingdom, 107.

[7] Gary Parrett. A Many Colored Kingdom, 126.

[8] S. Steve Kang. A Many Colored Kingdom, 103.

Chickens and Holiday Saturninity-- An Advent Meditation for Winter's Solstice

Today marks the last day before the winter solstice-- the shortest day of the year. Symbolically, this time is seen as the sun's 'death'. The three days following this 'death' are marked by an uncertain lingering of the sun at such a diminished level. After three days, on December 25th, daylight will gradually begin to lengthen, marking the sun's return (or resurrection). Etiologically speaking, this occurrence explains the timing of our celebration of Christ's birth-- God's Son. But, while mostly we approach this time with joyful anticipation, for many, this season can be one of painful reminders and dashed hopes. 

In one of today's lectionary readings, Zephaniah 3:14-20, we find an admonition not to let ourselves be consumed with worry or fear. Here, God's people are reminded that the LORD is "in our midst" and that God will rise to protect us. Note that the text reads 'our' and not 'your'-- thus stressing the significance of community. In this passage, we also find imagery of the LORD gathering us up-- words that (as someone who used to keep backyard chickens) remind me of a mother hen with her baby chicks.

In the coming spring, which at this time looms in the distance like a warm glow on the horizon, mother hens will carefully guide their newborn chicks out of the hen house for their first exploratory voyage into the outer world. Each doting mother will guard her offspring with tenderness and, if need be, defiant bravery. As she watches her young stumble out into the yard and begin poking around at their strange new surroundings, she will help them as they learn to scratch and forage. Under their mother's watchful eye, they will learn from older birds and each other how to thrive.

In today's reading, the prophet Zephaniah assures Israel that God will, "renew [them] in his love"-- a claim that is still valid for God's people today. This line particularly grabs me, because, as many of you know, my wife and I have recently had to deal with some hard moments. For me, this was a first-- finally being the one that everyone else rushed in to care for. For a time, we received calls, letters, emails, meals, and other generous gifts. Before now, I had often heard the Church likened to Christ's earthly hands and feet, but it was not until this trial that this imagery really began to take on a new and deeper meaning, for me. Truly, through Christ's body-- the very real and tangible presence of our friends and family-- we were lovingly gathered near to God and set on a path towards renewal. Having learned from others, we now look forward to one day passing on these same blessings to another in need.

Recalling this cycle of loving and learning can be encouraging for anyone approaching the holiday season with an unsettling sense of dread. In times so built up with festive expectation, it is easy to harbor unrealistic dreams of 'what should be,' only to have those hopes quelled by life's sometimes harsh realities. But, we must remember God's words to us in these troubling times-- that, like a mother hen collecting her young, we will be gathered up into God's presence, protected, and renewed in love. But for this healing to occur, we must avail ourselves to community and communion with God.

The dark days may seem to linger and we may begin to doubt the Son's return, but a new light will dawn and we will once again emerge into the newness of spring's vigor. In God's created order, periods of dormancy and decay often precede new life. At the risk of sounding too proscriptive, perhaps passages such as today's remind us that we ought to periodically invite the Holy Spirit to show us things we are clinging to-- lost hopes, bitterness, fears-- that we need to let die. From their absence, and through God's continual work making all things new, life can once again spring forth formed by the richness of a renewed faith.

And finally, for those at peace with this season's tidings, let us find our joy in blessing those who struggle with our solidarity-- for it is often in our presence and generosity that God's loving, support is revealed. For such is our hope-- and on this, our hearts can rest. Amen.

Songs for Advent

Some appropriate music for the approaching lunar eclipse on the winter solstice. Enjoy!

Of Grizzly Bears and Sanctification

As followers of Christ, that which compels us to wrestle and claw our way towards the Divine Mystery hounds us with the resolve of a Grizzly Bear that, upon emerging from its long winter fast and aching with hunger, catches the scent of a vole’s burrow beneath a rotting stump. It is with this compelling force, imparted by God, that our striving is provoked—a process of refinement in pursuit of the Holy. Frequently, we hear this ‘striving’ described as discipleship or spiritual formation, but what exactly do these words mean and how does this process actually transpire? Moreover, what is it that we are pursuing, given today’s context—a world in which scientists predict we may lose one-third of all species on Earth in the next forty years—and how will success be measured in light of this reality?[1] In conversation with Jurgen Moltmann’s book, The Source of Life, these are some of the questions I hope to address below.

Each stream within the broader Christian tradition has favored words and understandings about the task of pursuing Godly lives. For example, Methodists are renowned for their use of the word sanctification, and Baptists for their concepts of justification, while Orthodox Christians employ the term theosis. All of these are meant to convey the notion of one’s journey towards holiness. But to what are we referring when we say the word holy? Moltmann contends that holiness is that which belongs to the sphere of the Divine and is “Wholly Other” from ourselves.” By this he means, “that which fascinates us, holding us spellbound.” The feeling he describes reminds me of a time when I accidentally approached a bear while hiking. There I found myself standing before this incredible beast utterly, helpless and quite aware of my vulnerability. Much like this humbling encounter, the Holy can inspire both terror and awe. These are attributes of that which we call God—the Divine Mystery who solely possesses both perfect harmony and oneness. 

From this, Moltmann concludes that God’s Spirit, which we call the Holy Spirit, works to continually bring harmony and perfection wherever it ventures—thus, the Holy Spirit continually sanctifies whatever it encounters.[2] As beings created by this life-giving Source, we naturally seek a return to that source, which gives rise to our reconciliatory pursuit of sanctification. As we pursue this relationship, through our communal act of following Jesus, our discipleship engages us in the process of sanctification. Here Moltmann makes the observation that sanctification is both harmony with God and a learned ability to encounter things with reverence. As we will discuss further below, in light of today’s ecological problems, this distinction seems rather significant. As God is perceived to be both fully in harmony with God’s Self and simultaneously working to make all things holy, encountering these forces ought to replicate them in our lives. In a world whose environment has been shattered by industrial exploitation and the extraction of resources at unsustainable levels, where the natural realm has been over taxed for too long and has seemingly little left to give, we, as Christ’s disciples, ought to be busy creatively working to halt these harmful patterns and working to restore the earth as God’s House.

Interestingly, when considering the outcome of spiritual formation in today’s context, Moltmann points out that, during the early part of the Twentieth Century, Methodists, and other Christians, busied themselves stamping out vices perceived to be evil, such as alcohol, tobacco, and overly extravagant living. He brings this up to highlight our current ecological crisis as today’s prevailing evil.[3] According to author Derrick Jensen, “Ninety percent of all large fish in the oceans are gone, there are 6-10 times as much plastic as phytoplankton in parts of the sea, and there is dioxin in every mother’s breast milk,” [4] Given this information, Christians, as well as all other people, need to turn their collective attention towards the sanctification of life on this planet. When discussing the fruits of discipleship, Moltmann introduces the term charismata, to signify the various gifts people undergoing sanctification receive. These include things like leadership, proclamation, service, and even healing.[5] For us to stave off further ecological disaster, all of these gifts will be needed.

The urgency of the tasks before this generation cannot be overstated. As activist Dave Foreman frames things, over the next 40 years, our response to today’s unprecedented extinction rates will directly determine whether or not animals, such as grizzly bears and other large mammals, exist for thousands of years to come.[6] Despite such imperative stakes, many Christians tune out messages like this due to beliefs that God will soon rapture ‘true believers’ or other eschatological theories of abandonment. This anticipation influences large numbers of evangelical Christians, many Baptists, Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Seventh Day Adventists, and today’s fastest growing religious sect, Pentecostals. Importantly, Moltmann reminds us that we will not be redeemed, “from this earth…” but, “with it.” He stresses that, “We human beings are earthly creatures, not candidates for angelic status. Nor are we here on a visit to a beautiful star, so as to make our home somewhere else after we die.”[7] Here, his understanding of the Bible’s apocalyptic texts differs from those mentioned above—Moltmann envisions a world fully restored, not one that is ethereal and elsewhere. Thus, our proper response ought to be one of care for creation. Beliefs that we will soon be lifted from this planet can lead to reckless treatment of the environment. Notions that our negligence will not have dire future repercussions can incite dangerous consequences. For these reasons, in recognition of the Spirit’s harmonizing work in all things, our aim should be the restoration of a healthy, wisely-construed balance with the natural order. Ultimately, stemming from the words of Psalm 24:1 that, “The earth is the LORD's and all that is in it…,” reverence for creation should be seen as a natural outgrowth of our participation in God’s work of making all things new. 

Returning to our original question—Asking how we, as Christians, participate in God’s purifying action and what fruits that process brings, our vision of God as Creator and the Source of all life beckons our response of reverence for that which only God can give—life. Our intrinsic quest for unity with that Source then underlies efforts seeking to harmonize our relationship within God’s created order. As Moltmann points out, the gifts and talents imparted to us by God’s Spirit aid us in accomplishing these tasks and evidence our immersion in the process of sanctification. Our present need to for a concerted effort to restore the balance between nature and humanity does not erase our ever-present duty as Christians to spread the Gospel, but, in light of today’s predicament, it does give us a focus. The planet’s wounded state is not only symptomatic of humanity’s failed embodiment of God’s will, it is today’s primary area in need of God’s redemptive healing. Thus, our participation in God’s ever-sanctifying work must include a healing of humanity’s ecological failures.                    

Bibliography

Dave Foreman and Derrick Jensen, Listening to the Land: Conversations about Nature, Culture, and Eros, (White River Junction, Vermont: Chelsea Green Publishing, 2004).

Jurgen Moltmann, Source of Life: The Holy Spirit and the Theology of Life, (Great Britain: Fortress Press,1997).

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[1] Dave Foreman and Derrick Jensen, Listening to the Land, 7.

[2] Jurgen Moltmann, The Source of Life: The Holy Spirit and the Theology of Life, 43-45.

[3] Jurgen Moltmann, The Source of Life: The Holy Spirit and the Theology of Life, 50.

[4] From the Democracy Now interview found at this link: http://www.democracynow.org/2010/11/15/author_and_activist_derrick_jensen_the

[5] Jurgen Moltmann, The Source of Life: The Holy Spirit and the Theology of Life, 55-66.

[6] Dave Foreman and Derrick Jensen, Listening to the Land, 7.

[7] Jurgen Moltmann, The Source of Life: The Holy Spirit and the Theology of Life, 74.

Four Views of God

Here's an interesting article about a recent study that explores the four main views people have in mind when sharing how they conceptualize God. It was passed along to me by one of my professors and I found it quite helpful for understanding other people's conceptions of and relations to the Divine.

http://www.usatoday.com/news/religion/2010-10-07-1Agod07_CV_N.htm