So I shared an infographic, the World of Religion, showing the breakdown of the world’s religions on Facebook. Most of the comments I received were from my agnostic and atheist friends who were heartened to see the size of their numbers on the chart. One of them remarked that they were gaining on the “make-believers,” a play on the term “true believers.”
Although I didn’t take offense, the phrase did give me pause. Sure, to someone outside of a religious tradition worship practices can seem pretty silly. And it can look like it’s all made up. I’ve seen similar attitudes among practitioners of one faith regarding those of another.
And when we label a group a cult, aren’t we saying that their beliefs aren’t grounded in any theology, but are just “made up?”
I agree that ultimately one’s belief in a deity comes down to faith. Personally, I arrived at my current beliefs based on my background (Methodist), personal experience, and study of both Scripture and related theological writings from theologians such as Bothius, St. Augustine, Martin Luther, John Bunyan and others.
For me, my religion provides a structure to the world, and a blueprint for how I should develop spiritually. I didn’t make it up, nor did any other one person. Our worship service is carefully structured. Every element is symbolically significant, guided by Scripture. And perhaps because it has that weight of tradition, it feels right, somehow.
Taken collectively, the infographic shows that most people in the world have some type of religious belief system. We seem to have a natural urge to make sense of the world, and look for a higher purpose that might be behind it all.
Make-believe? Perhaps.
But I wonder who put that urge in us in the first place…
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Inquiring Minds
A member of our congregation has become an Inquirer. Don't feel badly -- I didn't know what that meant either until God tapped me on the shoulder.
In the Presbyterian Church (USA), there's a rigorous course of study one must pursue in order to become ordained. Just taking an online course won't cut it. Candidates for ordination, once they've formally started the process, are called "Inquirers." It's a better term than student, as part of the process is for the person to inquire what exactly they're called to do. And sometimes, the answer isn't to be ordained.
In addition to some extensive coursework at an accredited school (in this case, Union Presbyterian Seminary), the prospective candidate must show growth not only in academic studies, but also in spiritual development, interpersonal relationships, personal and professional development. And the Inquirer should be an active member of a congregation (for the interpersonal relationship portion if nothing else).
Which means that a member of the Session (the governing body of the local church) is appointed to work with the Inquirer. The role of that person is to meet regularly with the Inquirer, and through discussion be able to assess candidate's development as they move towards the final step for ordination.
Our Inquirer asked that I be assigned the task of working with them -- and so that's how I came to learn about this process. Although I'm working with someone who's undertaken a major faith journey, I suspect I'll be going on a journey myself. Even after just a couple of conversations, I've learned a lot, and have been given much to think about -- some of which I might share in future posts.
In the Presbyterian Church (USA), there's a rigorous course of study one must pursue in order to become ordained. Just taking an online course won't cut it. Candidates for ordination, once they've formally started the process, are called "Inquirers." It's a better term than student, as part of the process is for the person to inquire what exactly they're called to do. And sometimes, the answer isn't to be ordained.
In addition to some extensive coursework at an accredited school (in this case, Union Presbyterian Seminary), the prospective candidate must show growth not only in academic studies, but also in spiritual development, interpersonal relationships, personal and professional development. And the Inquirer should be an active member of a congregation (for the interpersonal relationship portion if nothing else).
Which means that a member of the Session (the governing body of the local church) is appointed to work with the Inquirer. The role of that person is to meet regularly with the Inquirer, and through discussion be able to assess candidate's development as they move towards the final step for ordination.
Our Inquirer asked that I be assigned the task of working with them -- and so that's how I came to learn about this process. Although I'm working with someone who's undertaken a major faith journey, I suspect I'll be going on a journey myself. Even after just a couple of conversations, I've learned a lot, and have been given much to think about -- some of which I might share in future posts.
Sunday, April 08, 2012
The Other Side of Easter
Easter's a pretty big holiday -- even if you're a Christian.
In our church (as in many others) there's a sense of celebration. After all, it's marking an important event, and the significance of that event. Christ rose from the dead, (as He said he would), and because He did, there is hope for us to do the same -- no matter who we are.
And while everyone turns out for the Easter service, not many attend the other half of the story -- the Maundy Thursday Tenebrae service. There are varying traditions for this service, but here's what we do in our church.
The purpose of the service is to recount the final days leading up to the crucifixion. Just as the Easter service lets us relive the hope and joy of those who first heard the news, the Tenebrae service reminds us of the utter hopelessness and despair Jesus' followers felt during those last days.
The Tenebrae (Latin for shadows) service brings home those emotions. In our church, at each major part of the story, the lights are dimmed a little more. It's already evening, so there's little light streaming through the windows, anyway. You can feel the darkness closing in as the story progresses and the lights go out, one by one.
The final part of the service is the stripping of the church. After the last words are spoken, all the portable elements of worship are removed. The candles, the paraments (the cloths hanging from the pulpit), the Bibles, the banners -- even the pastor's stole and the cross around her neck.
And when everything has been silently carried out, the communion table is draped with a black cloth. The darkened sanctuary has now become a tomb. The pastor, followed by the congregation files out silently.
Why would anyone go to such a downer service?
I go because it's deeply moving.
And I also go because it puts the joy of Easter into perspective. There's a big difference between being happy because everyone else is, and being happy because you've been sad and received some really great news. It's a longer emotional arc, which makes the joy that much sweeter.
Our Tenebrae service only draws about a third of the attendance of our Easter service. But here's a curious thing. Everyone who's attended our Tenebrae service keeps coming back year after year. They all say its one of the most moving services they've ever experienced.
I agree.
In our church (as in many others) there's a sense of celebration. After all, it's marking an important event, and the significance of that event. Christ rose from the dead, (as He said he would), and because He did, there is hope for us to do the same -- no matter who we are.
And while everyone turns out for the Easter service, not many attend the other half of the story -- the Maundy Thursday Tenebrae service. There are varying traditions for this service, but here's what we do in our church.
The purpose of the service is to recount the final days leading up to the crucifixion. Just as the Easter service lets us relive the hope and joy of those who first heard the news, the Tenebrae service reminds us of the utter hopelessness and despair Jesus' followers felt during those last days.
The Tenebrae (Latin for shadows) service brings home those emotions. In our church, at each major part of the story, the lights are dimmed a little more. It's already evening, so there's little light streaming through the windows, anyway. You can feel the darkness closing in as the story progresses and the lights go out, one by one.
The final part of the service is the stripping of the church. After the last words are spoken, all the portable elements of worship are removed. The candles, the paraments (the cloths hanging from the pulpit), the Bibles, the banners -- even the pastor's stole and the cross around her neck.
And when everything has been silently carried out, the communion table is draped with a black cloth. The darkened sanctuary has now become a tomb. The pastor, followed by the congregation files out silently.
Why would anyone go to such a downer service?
I go because it's deeply moving.
And I also go because it puts the joy of Easter into perspective. There's a big difference between being happy because everyone else is, and being happy because you've been sad and received some really great news. It's a longer emotional arc, which makes the joy that much sweeter.
Our Tenebrae service only draws about a third of the attendance of our Easter service. But here's a curious thing. Everyone who's attended our Tenebrae service keeps coming back year after year. They all say its one of the most moving services they've ever experienced.
I agree.
Sunday, April 01, 2012
New data about an old relationship
Questioning God Easier for the More Devout
Well, you can bet that headline from LiveScience got my attention.
As the article explains,
In general, people who are strongly religious are more likely than the less devout to say that it's not okay to be angry at God, the new study found. But people who describe their relationship with God as close and resilient are actually likely to accept complaining and questioning directed toward God.
In the study conducted by Case Western Reserve University, the researchers found that one's relationship with God is actually a lot like relationships with other people (at least, the way I read it).
Like any long-term relationship, God and I have been through a lot together. And that means it's grown into a comfortable relationship. Sure, I have doubts, and criticisms about various aspects of my faith. I also find some of it quite amusing. And many others in our congregation feel the same way.
So we're free to laugh, cry, worry, and complain about our faith -- and even enjoy it. Because (at least with me) it's strong enough to take the strain.
Think about Mel Brooks' classic films: Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles, and The Producers. While he skewers the conventions of the horror film, western, and musical, it's clear that he also understands and loves the genres. The films laugh about the shortcomings and foibles of their subjects, but it still laughs with, rather than at, those genres.
That's sort how my relationship with God is. I'm comfortable enough with it to ask the hard questions -- and crack the jokes. (just like the study suggests)
Well, you can bet that headline from LiveScience got my attention.
As the article explains,
In general, people who are strongly religious are more likely than the less devout to say that it's not okay to be angry at God, the new study found. But people who describe their relationship with God as close and resilient are actually likely to accept complaining and questioning directed toward God.
In the study conducted by Case Western Reserve University, the researchers found that one's relationship with God is actually a lot like relationships with other people (at least, the way I read it).
Like any long-term relationship, God and I have been through a lot together. And that means it's grown into a comfortable relationship. Sure, I have doubts, and criticisms about various aspects of my faith. I also find some of it quite amusing. And many others in our congregation feel the same way.
So we're free to laugh, cry, worry, and complain about our faith -- and even enjoy it. Because (at least with me) it's strong enough to take the strain.
Think about Mel Brooks' classic films: Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles, and The Producers. While he skewers the conventions of the horror film, western, and musical, it's clear that he also understands and loves the genres. The films laugh about the shortcomings and foibles of their subjects, but it still laughs with, rather than at, those genres.
That's sort how my relationship with God is. I'm comfortable enough with it to ask the hard questions -- and crack the jokes. (just like the study suggests)
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Taking the long view -- really long
Sometimes it's good to step back and take a look at the bigger picture. It's always easy to think of "us vs. them" (especially in an election year). And speaking of the election, there seems to be a bizarre contest among some candidates as to who is the most Christian (as defined by some of the voters). Are you for this, or against that? If you don't do this, you're not really a Christian. If you only do this, you're not Christian enough.
It's nothing new. In the early church the Galatians were the same way. Only those who did certain things, or followed certain rules were considered Real Christians. Paul addressed that in his letter to them. Basically, he makes it clear that it's not what we do that makes us Christian, but what we believe.
And that's an important distinction. If I go to church every Sunday and you don't, am I a better Christian? Well, no. The Bible makes no mention of points for attendance. And if I'm really a follower of Christ, I should know it's not my place to judge you -- just to love you for who you are and be thankful for the gifts you offer (instead of noting the ones you don't).
Paul was talking about Hebraic Law, but I think it applies to all the rules that have grown up around the various denominations. Because they all kind of do the same thing -- get in the way of what's important. And when I let go of that concept and stop evaluating people by my own personal checklist of dos and dont's -- I find we have more in common with them than I thought.
Paul really takes the long view in the last paragraph below. Step far enough away, and major differences become minor. Move further, and they disappear entirely (and no, I'm not going to sing "From a Distance"). If I can refrain from using my naughty-or-nice list, I can almost see that long view, too.
Before the coming of this faith, we were held in custody under the law, locked up until the faith that was to come would be revealed. So the law was our guardian until Christ came that we might be justified by faith. Now that this faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian.
So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.
- Gal. 3:23-29
It's nothing new. In the early church the Galatians were the same way. Only those who did certain things, or followed certain rules were considered Real Christians. Paul addressed that in his letter to them. Basically, he makes it clear that it's not what we do that makes us Christian, but what we believe.
And that's an important distinction. If I go to church every Sunday and you don't, am I a better Christian? Well, no. The Bible makes no mention of points for attendance. And if I'm really a follower of Christ, I should know it's not my place to judge you -- just to love you for who you are and be thankful for the gifts you offer (instead of noting the ones you don't).
Paul was talking about Hebraic Law, but I think it applies to all the rules that have grown up around the various denominations. Because they all kind of do the same thing -- get in the way of what's important. And when I let go of that concept and stop evaluating people by my own personal checklist of dos and dont's -- I find we have more in common with them than I thought.
Paul really takes the long view in the last paragraph below. Step far enough away, and major differences become minor. Move further, and they disappear entirely (and no, I'm not going to sing "From a Distance"). If I can refrain from using my naughty-or-nice list, I can almost see that long view, too.
Before the coming of this faith, we were held in custody under the law, locked up until the faith that was to come would be revealed. So the law was our guardian until Christ came that we might be justified by faith. Now that this faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian.
So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.
- Gal. 3:23-29
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Empathy and the Golden Rule
Of course you don't have to be religious to use the Golden Rule. But it can add an extra dimension of understanding.
For example: this past week I've had to shuttle my Dad around for various hospital visits. We use his van because it's been easier for him to get in and out of. And he has a handicapped tag for the vehicle.
Some others who have used the van (with his permission) while he was laid up took advantage of that tag. They freely admitted they parked in handicapped spaces even when they weren't transporting Dad -- to them it was just a perk. Why not take advantage of the privilege when you have it?
I haven't been tempted because of a previous experience. I vividly remember a time when we were taking my grandfather out to a restaurant. He was very frail, and since very step was a struggle, the fewer he needed to take, the better. When we arrived, the both handicapped places were taken -- by cars with no handicapped plates or tags. The careless selfishness of those drivers created additional unnecessary hardship for my grandfather.
I hadn't really thought about that experience for years, until I got behind the wheel of Dad's van.Then I remembered. And so I've not been tempted to use the handicapped parking places when I'm not transporting Dad. Because I don't want to cause hardship to someone else.
“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Matth. 22: 36-40
Sure, you can just live by the Golden Rule (that would be the second commandment Jesus talks about) and forget all that God stuff. But for me, the first is important, too. Because I believe that God gave me that earlier experience with my grandfather to help me understand what I need to do now. Others did unto us, so I know how not to do unto them.
For example: this past week I've had to shuttle my Dad around for various hospital visits. We use his van because it's been easier for him to get in and out of. And he has a handicapped tag for the vehicle.
Some others who have used the van (with his permission) while he was laid up took advantage of that tag. They freely admitted they parked in handicapped spaces even when they weren't transporting Dad -- to them it was just a perk. Why not take advantage of the privilege when you have it?
I haven't been tempted because of a previous experience. I vividly remember a time when we were taking my grandfather out to a restaurant. He was very frail, and since very step was a struggle, the fewer he needed to take, the better. When we arrived, the both handicapped places were taken -- by cars with no handicapped plates or tags. The careless selfishness of those drivers created additional unnecessary hardship for my grandfather.
I hadn't really thought about that experience for years, until I got behind the wheel of Dad's van.Then I remembered. And so I've not been tempted to use the handicapped parking places when I'm not transporting Dad. Because I don't want to cause hardship to someone else.
“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Matth. 22: 36-40
Sure, you can just live by the Golden Rule (that would be the second commandment Jesus talks about) and forget all that God stuff. But for me, the first is important, too. Because I believe that God gave me that earlier experience with my grandfather to help me understand what I need to do now. Others did unto us, so I know how not to do unto them.
Sunday, March 04, 2012
Epiphany in Lent
In this case, of course, I mean epiphany as in "an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure." not the first Sunday in January as defined by the church calendar.
Thursday was sort of a perfect storm of burdens. There was the stress of my father's hospital recovery. Thursday we received notice for something that could be a major blow to his financial situation (which is already somewhat fragile). Thursday was also the date of a major family meeting with the hospital. Thursday we also experience a major (and unexpected) financial setback of our own. Some additional professional responsibilities were added on Thursday, and a potentially bad situation at church took a turn for the worse.
So on Thursday, there was major trouble in just about every aspect of my life. There was no place to go and pretend that everything was fine. Or even a way to postpone dealing with it.
And that's when I had my epiphany. Because right when I was at the breaking point, I realized that I wasn't alone. As scary as all those things were, we could work through them. All I had to do was just draw on the spiritual strength my faith give me, and I would have the energy I needed.
The major part of the epiphany was the realization that it wasn't about winning or losing. It was just about being guided to the best resolution (notice I didn't say "solution").
So how did it go? Our family meeting went pretty well. We did have a personality clash, but rather than exacerbate the conflict, I simply said "peace be with you" and moved on. The family meeting went better than I thought it would. Our finances still took a hit, but we'll work through it. And the big conflict at church turned out not to be a conflict -- once we moved beyond winning and losing.
There are still a lot of major things to deal with in the coming weeks, but I'm facing them with the same calmness that descended on me Thursday.
So what am I giving up for Lent? It seems to be fear.
Thursday was sort of a perfect storm of burdens. There was the stress of my father's hospital recovery. Thursday we received notice for something that could be a major blow to his financial situation (which is already somewhat fragile). Thursday was also the date of a major family meeting with the hospital. Thursday we also experience a major (and unexpected) financial setback of our own. Some additional professional responsibilities were added on Thursday, and a potentially bad situation at church took a turn for the worse.
So on Thursday, there was major trouble in just about every aspect of my life. There was no place to go and pretend that everything was fine. Or even a way to postpone dealing with it.
And that's when I had my epiphany. Because right when I was at the breaking point, I realized that I wasn't alone. As scary as all those things were, we could work through them. All I had to do was just draw on the spiritual strength my faith give me, and I would have the energy I needed.
The major part of the epiphany was the realization that it wasn't about winning or losing. It was just about being guided to the best resolution (notice I didn't say "solution").
So how did it go? Our family meeting went pretty well. We did have a personality clash, but rather than exacerbate the conflict, I simply said "peace be with you" and moved on. The family meeting went better than I thought it would. Our finances still took a hit, but we'll work through it. And the big conflict at church turned out not to be a conflict -- once we moved beyond winning and losing.
There are still a lot of major things to deal with in the coming weeks, but I'm facing them with the same calmness that descended on me Thursday.
So what am I giving up for Lent? It seems to be fear.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Engaging the senses
One man's religion is another man's belly laugh
- Robert Heinlein
It can certainly seem that way standing on the outside. Take the ritual surrounding Ash Wednesday, for example. To most people, it must seem odd to voluntary walk around with a gray smudge on your forehead. And with no context, it is.
But I do have some context for this service.
Ash Wednesday is the beginning of the Lenten season, which leads up to Easter. It's a service that reminds us of our mortality, and begins a 40-day period of contemplation and reflection so that the promise of Easter -- that the end of life isn't, well, the end of life -- can be more fully appreciated.
The Ash Wednesday service at our church this year was particularly moving, and one that fully engaged my senses. First, holding a service at night on a weekday is something different for us. The light coming through the windows was different, more diffuse.
We began the service outside the church with the burning of the palms. Traditionally, we wave palms in our Palm Sunday service (which is the Sunday before Easter). This represents Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem (when the crowds greeted him with waving palms) before being betrayed and arrested. The joy of that arrival turned to sorrow pretty quickly.
The palms used in our service are gathered up and kept for the following year. They're burned on Ash Wednesday, and their ashes used for that service. Symbolically, it ties the high and the low of the season together.
Watching the dry palms blaze gave me time to reflect on the passing year. The fire consumed the greenery quickly, and within moments it was over. How many times has my own life been changed as quickly?
When we went inside to complete the service, I could still smell the smoke which had permeated my clothes. Another reminder that this service was different.
At the end of the Ash Wednesday service, all the participants come forward and are marked with a cross on the forehead with ashes. The pastor reminded each of us that "from dust you came, and to dust you shall return."
The feel of the thumb making the mark on my forehead pulled my attention to that thought. I had recently been treated for cancer and survived. Survived this time, I reminded myself.
When I returned to my seat, I watched a young man from our congregation receive the mark. He had recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness. This would most likely be his last Ash Wednesday service. What did those words mean to him? To his wife? To us as their church family as we support them through their time of trouble?
I must not have been alone with these thoughts, because I felt a wave of emotion move through the room as he walked across the front of the sanctuary.
There was much to reflect on that night, as we filed out silently.
Perhaps I looked a little odd with my forehead smudged. But I didn't feel silly at all.
- Robert Heinlein
It can certainly seem that way standing on the outside. Take the ritual surrounding Ash Wednesday, for example. To most people, it must seem odd to voluntary walk around with a gray smudge on your forehead. And with no context, it is.
But I do have some context for this service.
Ash Wednesday is the beginning of the Lenten season, which leads up to Easter. It's a service that reminds us of our mortality, and begins a 40-day period of contemplation and reflection so that the promise of Easter -- that the end of life isn't, well, the end of life -- can be more fully appreciated.
The Ash Wednesday service at our church this year was particularly moving, and one that fully engaged my senses. First, holding a service at night on a weekday is something different for us. The light coming through the windows was different, more diffuse.
We began the service outside the church with the burning of the palms. Traditionally, we wave palms in our Palm Sunday service (which is the Sunday before Easter). This represents Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem (when the crowds greeted him with waving palms) before being betrayed and arrested. The joy of that arrival turned to sorrow pretty quickly.
The palms used in our service are gathered up and kept for the following year. They're burned on Ash Wednesday, and their ashes used for that service. Symbolically, it ties the high and the low of the season together.
Watching the dry palms blaze gave me time to reflect on the passing year. The fire consumed the greenery quickly, and within moments it was over. How many times has my own life been changed as quickly?
When we went inside to complete the service, I could still smell the smoke which had permeated my clothes. Another reminder that this service was different.
At the end of the Ash Wednesday service, all the participants come forward and are marked with a cross on the forehead with ashes. The pastor reminded each of us that "from dust you came, and to dust you shall return."
The feel of the thumb making the mark on my forehead pulled my attention to that thought. I had recently been treated for cancer and survived. Survived this time, I reminded myself.
When I returned to my seat, I watched a young man from our congregation receive the mark. He had recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness. This would most likely be his last Ash Wednesday service. What did those words mean to him? To his wife? To us as their church family as we support them through their time of trouble?
I must not have been alone with these thoughts, because I felt a wave of emotion move through the room as he walked across the front of the sanctuary.
There was much to reflect on that night, as we filed out silently.
Perhaps I looked a little odd with my forehead smudged. But I didn't feel silly at all.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
A Crises and a Challenge
There's trouble in our church. One group of people, not happy with things, have suggested changes that a second group doesn't like. Tempers are starting to rise, and it seems only a matter of time before cross words are exchanged and we're engaged in conflict
Now, I've been deliberately vague about the actual cause of the tension, because that's not what this post is about. Rather, it's about how we can resolve our church differences in a Christian manner.
The first thing we'll need to remember is that, while we disagree, we're all supposed to be part of the same family. Jesus has some thoughts about that:
Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, For if you love only those who love you, what credit is that to you? And if you exchange greetings only with your own circle, are you doing anything exceptional? Even sinners do that much.
- Matt. 5:43-50
It's going to be difficult. For one thing, whenever people square off into two groups, if there's a conflict, there will be a winner and a loser. Jesus had some thoughts about conflict resolution, too:
You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth. But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.
- Matt.5:38-42
(Not that I think the other group is evil. But unintentionally hurtful things can be said by even the best of us. Retaliated in kind is the cycle Christ's interested in breaking here.)
And what happens when someone steps over the line and says something that can't be taken back? Well, according to Christ, it can be -- if not taken back, at least forgiven.
Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?" Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times."
- Matt. 18:21-35
(I'm doing well if I remember to forgive one time!)
Although this disagreement is foremost in the minds of the people involved (yes, including me), most of the congregation has no idea there's anything wrong. The natural thing to do is to enlist more people to the cause. But that's not a good idea -- as Paul pointed out:
For as the body is one, and has many members, and all the members of the body, being many, are one body; so also is Christ.
And the eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of thee: or again the head to the feet, I have no need of you.... that there should be no schism in the body; but the members should have the same care one for another. And whether one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it.
- 1 Col. 12:12-26
So it's not about one group being bad and the other good, or one being right and the other wrong, or even one group being important and the other unimportant. I think if we can keep those concepts in mind, we'll weather this crises in a a Christian manner. There won't be a winner or loser, but two groups who reach an accord that binds them tighter together in harmony.
That's what I'm praying for, anyway -- and that I can do my part to make it happen.
Now, I've been deliberately vague about the actual cause of the tension, because that's not what this post is about. Rather, it's about how we can resolve our church differences in a Christian manner.
The first thing we'll need to remember is that, while we disagree, we're all supposed to be part of the same family. Jesus has some thoughts about that:
Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, For if you love only those who love you, what credit is that to you? And if you exchange greetings only with your own circle, are you doing anything exceptional? Even sinners do that much.
- Matt. 5:43-50
It's going to be difficult. For one thing, whenever people square off into two groups, if there's a conflict, there will be a winner and a loser. Jesus had some thoughts about conflict resolution, too:
You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth. But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.
- Matt.5:38-42
(Not that I think the other group is evil. But unintentionally hurtful things can be said by even the best of us. Retaliated in kind is the cycle Christ's interested in breaking here.)
And what happens when someone steps over the line and says something that can't be taken back? Well, according to Christ, it can be -- if not taken back, at least forgiven.
Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?" Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times."
- Matt. 18:21-35
(I'm doing well if I remember to forgive one time!)
Although this disagreement is foremost in the minds of the people involved (yes, including me), most of the congregation has no idea there's anything wrong. The natural thing to do is to enlist more people to the cause. But that's not a good idea -- as Paul pointed out:
For as the body is one, and has many members, and all the members of the body, being many, are one body; so also is Christ.
And the eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of thee: or again the head to the feet, I have no need of you.... that there should be no schism in the body; but the members should have the same care one for another. And whether one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it.
- 1 Col. 12:12-26
So it's not about one group being bad and the other good, or one being right and the other wrong, or even one group being important and the other unimportant. I think if we can keep those concepts in mind, we'll weather this crises in a a Christian manner. There won't be a winner or loser, but two groups who reach an accord that binds them tighter together in harmony.
That's what I'm praying for, anyway -- and that I can do my part to make it happen.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Leading by following
I just finished a 2-day Session retreat. It was a great time of renewal, as I and my fellow Session members welcomed a new group of elders on board.
Session? Elders? A brief explanation might be in order here.
Not every denomination (or church) is organized and run the same way. Some denominations, like the Episcopal and Methodist churches, are organized from the top down. Bishops make the decisions, transfer priests, and and so on. Congregational churches, like the Baptists, are organized bottom up. The congregation makes all the important decisions like hiring a minster, usually by voting.
In the Presbyterian church, it's a little different We have Session made up of elders (ordained laypersons) that handle most of the business of the church. These elders are elected by the congregation, and make most of the decisions independent of them.
Being a ruling elder (as I am) is a big responsibility. And the interesting part about it is that, at least in my church, almost no one wants to do it. And yet, most of our congregation have served on Session at one time or another.
How is that possible? Well, although it may look like the Session has a large amount of power over the congregation, it really doesn't. The congregation may not vote on the budget with their hands, but they certainly can with their wallets. The Session may decide to launch new programs, but without congregational participation, they won't go far.
And that's fine, because being an elder isn't about bossing other people around. And it's certainly not about power. It's about service, both to the other members of my church family and to God.
How to best use the church's resources and assets to further Christ's ministry is the Session's aim. We're simply stewards of the gifts. And "further" can be all kind of things. Sure, it could be mission trips and community outreach, but it can also mean nurturing the congregation, providing services for groups that have none, maintaining facilities so that they can be available in the future, and many other things besides.
It's a big responsibility, and a lot of work. If you're looking for fame, prestige, and power -- keep looking. But if you think the best way to lead is by serving, you've got the right attitude.
No one wants to be on Session. But we all feel like we've been called to be. It's a nice attitude for a governing body to have, I think.
Session? Elders? A brief explanation might be in order here.
Not every denomination (or church) is organized and run the same way. Some denominations, like the Episcopal and Methodist churches, are organized from the top down. Bishops make the decisions, transfer priests, and and so on. Congregational churches, like the Baptists, are organized bottom up. The congregation makes all the important decisions like hiring a minster, usually by voting.
In the Presbyterian church, it's a little different We have Session made up of elders (ordained laypersons) that handle most of the business of the church. These elders are elected by the congregation, and make most of the decisions independent of them.
Being a ruling elder (as I am) is a big responsibility. And the interesting part about it is that, at least in my church, almost no one wants to do it. And yet, most of our congregation have served on Session at one time or another.
How is that possible? Well, although it may look like the Session has a large amount of power over the congregation, it really doesn't. The congregation may not vote on the budget with their hands, but they certainly can with their wallets. The Session may decide to launch new programs, but without congregational participation, they won't go far.
And that's fine, because being an elder isn't about bossing other people around. And it's certainly not about power. It's about service, both to the other members of my church family and to God.
How to best use the church's resources and assets to further Christ's ministry is the Session's aim. We're simply stewards of the gifts. And "further" can be all kind of things. Sure, it could be mission trips and community outreach, but it can also mean nurturing the congregation, providing services for groups that have none, maintaining facilities so that they can be available in the future, and many other things besides.
It's a big responsibility, and a lot of work. If you're looking for fame, prestige, and power -- keep looking. But if you think the best way to lead is by serving, you've got the right attitude.
No one wants to be on Session. But we all feel like we've been called to be. It's a nice attitude for a governing body to have, I think.
Sunday, February 05, 2012
Using the Bible in Arguments - An Observation
One of my FaceBook friends got into an argument, which played itself out in her comments. It involved civil marriages for gays. Yes, this is a hot button issue, but this post isn't about that. It's about what happened in the argument.
My friend is for allowing civil marriages, and it wasn't long before others jumped in with opposing viewpoints. Very quickly Biblical scripture started being tossed back and forth.
And that's what I want to focus on. Because, for the most part, the scripture being quoted against civil marriages came from the Old Testament, especially Leviticus and Deuteronomy.
What's the significance of that?
Those two books are the ones that lay down the foundation of Hebraic law. The Ten Commandments first appear in Exodus, but they're repeated and expanded upon in Deuteronomy. That's the book that goes into the "shalt nots" in detail, along with punishments, reparations, and other aspects of civil law.
Leviticus is more of a handbook for priests, and so is more concerned about the details of worship, sacrifices, holy days, and religious law. It too has plenty of detail about what's allowed, what isn't, and the punishments for the latter.
In the New Testament, Jesus somewhat simplifies things.
When asked which was the greatest commandment (out of all the body of religious law), he said, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matt. 22:34-40).
Jesus got into trouble for many things, such as associating with those who the religious law proscribed as unclean and undesirable, breaking the Sabbath, not observing all the rules and customs and so on. His actions as well as his words showed that Jesus was more concerned with the spirit, rather than the letter of the Law.
And which Law was that, exactly? See the quote above.
So in a way, using Old Testament law to determine Christian behavior is like using an outdated copy of a statute to argue a case in court. Doesn't matter what the rule used to be, what is it now? The Old Testament's definitely important, because it provides context for the New. But if I really want to use scripture to guide my actions, then the New Testament's the place I look.
My friend is for allowing civil marriages, and it wasn't long before others jumped in with opposing viewpoints. Very quickly Biblical scripture started being tossed back and forth.
And that's what I want to focus on. Because, for the most part, the scripture being quoted against civil marriages came from the Old Testament, especially Leviticus and Deuteronomy.
What's the significance of that?
Those two books are the ones that lay down the foundation of Hebraic law. The Ten Commandments first appear in Exodus, but they're repeated and expanded upon in Deuteronomy. That's the book that goes into the "shalt nots" in detail, along with punishments, reparations, and other aspects of civil law.
Leviticus is more of a handbook for priests, and so is more concerned about the details of worship, sacrifices, holy days, and religious law. It too has plenty of detail about what's allowed, what isn't, and the punishments for the latter.
In the New Testament, Jesus somewhat simplifies things.
When asked which was the greatest commandment (out of all the body of religious law), he said, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matt. 22:34-40).
Jesus got into trouble for many things, such as associating with those who the religious law proscribed as unclean and undesirable, breaking the Sabbath, not observing all the rules and customs and so on. His actions as well as his words showed that Jesus was more concerned with the spirit, rather than the letter of the Law.
And which Law was that, exactly? See the quote above.
So in a way, using Old Testament law to determine Christian behavior is like using an outdated copy of a statute to argue a case in court. Doesn't matter what the rule used to be, what is it now? The Old Testament's definitely important, because it provides context for the New. But if I really want to use scripture to guide my actions, then the New Testament's the place I look.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Old Problems, New Solutions
As a friend recently pointed out, if you want to stay out of politics, don't go to church.
Well, that's true, but perhaps not in the way you think. Congregations, like other organizations and groups, are made up of individuals. And that means that congregations are just as likely to have personality disputes, minor disagreements that can grow large and divisive, harmful rumors and gossip, and all the other things that happen in a group dynamic.
It's not anything new, of course John, writing in Revelation evaluates seven churches in Asia minor (Rev 2-4). And, sure enough, they had the same problems.
While "church politics" might be identical to "office politics," I think we have a unique challenge. And that is to behave differently.
What to do when someone says something hurtful about you? In the office, it might be cause for a hurtful comment back -- or perhaps some other kind of payback. As a Christian, though, I'm called to forgive.
And what about disagreements between two groups? As with academia, the infighting can get vicious because the stakes are so low. But just like at work (or at home) it's easy to get caught up in keeping score. Which means there are winners and losers.
The challenge (if I'm to emulate Christ) is to let go of all that. For a lot of issues, not worrying about winners and losers opens up other solutions -- even compromises.
And the real challenge is to remember to forgive. I may have heated discussions with other members of the congregation about things, but afterwards I think charged to come back together as a church family. A loving one, not a disfunctional one, either.
The problems may be the same as those of secular organizations, but my reactions should be different. And with any luck, I'll take what I've learned and apply it to interactions in those other organizations. It's a challenge, but one I need to accept.
Well, that's true, but perhaps not in the way you think. Congregations, like other organizations and groups, are made up of individuals. And that means that congregations are just as likely to have personality disputes, minor disagreements that can grow large and divisive, harmful rumors and gossip, and all the other things that happen in a group dynamic.
It's not anything new, of course John, writing in Revelation evaluates seven churches in Asia minor (Rev 2-4). And, sure enough, they had the same problems.
While "church politics" might be identical to "office politics," I think we have a unique challenge. And that is to behave differently.
What to do when someone says something hurtful about you? In the office, it might be cause for a hurtful comment back -- or perhaps some other kind of payback. As a Christian, though, I'm called to forgive.
And what about disagreements between two groups? As with academia, the infighting can get vicious because the stakes are so low. But just like at work (or at home) it's easy to get caught up in keeping score. Which means there are winners and losers.
The challenge (if I'm to emulate Christ) is to let go of all that. For a lot of issues, not worrying about winners and losers opens up other solutions -- even compromises.
And the real challenge is to remember to forgive. I may have heated discussions with other members of the congregation about things, but afterwards I think charged to come back together as a church family. A loving one, not a disfunctional one, either.
The problems may be the same as those of secular organizations, but my reactions should be different. And with any luck, I'll take what I've learned and apply it to interactions in those other organizations. It's a challenge, but one I need to accept.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Worship and Study -- Two Halves of a Whole
I'm sure our church isn't much different than many others. We have an hour of Sunday School followed by an hour of worship. A lot of people just show up for church. Most parents drop their children off at Sunday School, then come back and pick them up (and sometimes stay for worship).
And that's unfortunate, because those are two examples of people only getting half of what they need.
First off, a quick word about "Sunday School." It's a term that conjures up little kids singing "Jesus Loves Me" and learning about Noah and the ark. But it's really Christian education that happens on Sunday mornings -- and that education is open for all ages. Including adults. Christian education can also include evening bible studies, weekend retreats, trips, and other activities. And it can include simple lessons on familiar topics, or an in-depth scholarly exegesis. So with all that in mind, let's get back to our two groups of people: those that attend worship, and those that only attend Sunday School (or rather think that's all their kids need).
Worship without Christian Education
Worship's important, of course, but why? That's a question that Christian Education (CE) explores. And the words recited every Sunday -- the Apostle's Creed, Lord's Prayer, etc. -- what do they mean? Some CE studies look at those texts line by line and provide insight into our basic beliefs. Every element of worship means something -- and without understanding that meaning, one's worship experience can be superficial. And worse yet, you might not even be aware of it.
Christian Education without Worship
So what about the kids being dropped off at Sunday School? Well, it's one thing to study scripture and worship practices, but without attending services, what's the point. Worship provides the context for that knowledge. And something else -- when parents don't attend Sunday School themselves, they send the message that it isn't really that important (or at best, it's something only kids do).
Wrong and wrong. One of the best things about CE is that it's usually not a solitary activity. In the discussions that take place one usually gets different viewpoints -- sometimes challenging viewpoints. Adult Sunday School teachers in our church often talk about how they end up learning as much (if not more) than the classes they lead. And the fellowship can help bring congregations together.
We'll be working on this problem at our church this year. Too many of us are only getting half of the whole.
And that's unfortunate, because those are two examples of people only getting half of what they need.
First off, a quick word about "Sunday School." It's a term that conjures up little kids singing "Jesus Loves Me" and learning about Noah and the ark. But it's really Christian education that happens on Sunday mornings -- and that education is open for all ages. Including adults. Christian education can also include evening bible studies, weekend retreats, trips, and other activities. And it can include simple lessons on familiar topics, or an in-depth scholarly exegesis. So with all that in mind, let's get back to our two groups of people: those that attend worship, and those that only attend Sunday School (or rather think that's all their kids need).
Worship without Christian Education
Worship's important, of course, but why? That's a question that Christian Education (CE) explores. And the words recited every Sunday -- the Apostle's Creed, Lord's Prayer, etc. -- what do they mean? Some CE studies look at those texts line by line and provide insight into our basic beliefs. Every element of worship means something -- and without understanding that meaning, one's worship experience can be superficial. And worse yet, you might not even be aware of it.
Christian Education without Worship
So what about the kids being dropped off at Sunday School? Well, it's one thing to study scripture and worship practices, but without attending services, what's the point. Worship provides the context for that knowledge. And something else -- when parents don't attend Sunday School themselves, they send the message that it isn't really that important (or at best, it's something only kids do).
Wrong and wrong. One of the best things about CE is that it's usually not a solitary activity. In the discussions that take place one usually gets different viewpoints -- sometimes challenging viewpoints. Adult Sunday School teachers in our church often talk about how they end up learning as much (if not more) than the classes they lead. And the fellowship can help bring congregations together.
We'll be working on this problem at our church this year. Too many of us are only getting half of the whole.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
A Statement of Faith
I wrote earlier about running out of "safe" topics to post. I've been kind of dancing around the subject, but I've decided to doing some posts about my faith journey.
Now I know this is a potentially hot topic, so let me be clear about what I'm trying to do.
1) I'm not trying to convert anyone.
I don't pretend to have all the answers -- or even some of them. Whether you have faith or not, my goal isn't to change your opinion one way or the other
2) It's all personal.
I'll share what I think are interesting observations about faith. It's not to show how much better (or worse) my denomination is than anyone else's. But most of what I think about and react to happens within the context of the Presbyterian Church (USA) -- a mainstream Protestant connectional church. Your mileage may vary.
3) There might be more common ground than you think.
Talking to folks from different faith backgrounds has helped me realize that -- because we're all human beings -- group dynamics tend to be the same regardless of the organization (even if the terms are different). So when I share a thought or an observation, take it as simply that. "Here's what I see happening here. Have you had something similar happen with you?"
Now I know this is a potentially hot topic, so let me be clear about what I'm trying to do.
1) I'm not trying to convert anyone.
I don't pretend to have all the answers -- or even some of them. Whether you have faith or not, my goal isn't to change your opinion one way or the other
2) It's all personal.
I'll share what I think are interesting observations about faith. It's not to show how much better (or worse) my denomination is than anyone else's. But most of what I think about and react to happens within the context of the Presbyterian Church (USA) -- a mainstream Protestant connectional church. Your mileage may vary.
3) There might be more common ground than you think.
Talking to folks from different faith backgrounds has helped me realize that -- because we're all human beings -- group dynamics tend to be the same regardless of the organization (even if the terms are different). So when I share a thought or an observation, take it as simply that. "Here's what I see happening here. Have you had something similar happen with you?"
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Peace be with you
If you are connect to me through any type of social media (Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, Google+) then you know that my first post of the day is always the same:
Peace be with you.
It's a non-denominational variant of the Christian greeting used in the ceremony called the Passing of the Peace. The worship leader begins by saying "The Peace of the Lord be with you always," and the congregation responds "And also with you." The members of the congregation then turn to each other and repeat the greeting, receive the response, and then pass it on to others (usually with a handshake).
I started using the greeting during Lent as a way to help me focus my thoughts and set the tone for the day. If one starts out wishing peace to all, it makes it easier to bear the slings and arrows of the day with equanimity. I also resolved (for Lent) to use the phrase in response to any post or tweet I strongly disagreed with, instead of firing off something snarky or harsh.
It worked well. I found myself passing the peace quite often to my House Representative Eric Cantor, but so be it. I actually felt better doing so then if I had responded in kind (or rather, unkindly). And so after Easter I decided to just continue the practice.
And something interesting began to happen. I started to get folks responding with the phrase "and also with you."
Now that's the way to start the morning! I can only hope that everyone continues to pass the peace along as they go about their day.
Yesterday I received two particularly pissy emails from two different people about two different problems. There was a time when I would have matched tone and intent and had at it. Instead, I let the emails sit, realized in one case that they were right, and in the other it didn't particularly matter.
I answered the one in a professional and calm manner, and ignored the other. And today, things are different (and better) with both people because of it.
So if you see me post "Peace be with you," then you'll know I've signed on for the first time that day. And while you don't have to respond, if you would like to pass that message on to others, then we all might make the day a little better.
Peace be with you.
It's a non-denominational variant of the Christian greeting used in the ceremony called the Passing of the Peace. The worship leader begins by saying "The Peace of the Lord be with you always," and the congregation responds "And also with you." The members of the congregation then turn to each other and repeat the greeting, receive the response, and then pass it on to others (usually with a handshake).
I started using the greeting during Lent as a way to help me focus my thoughts and set the tone for the day. If one starts out wishing peace to all, it makes it easier to bear the slings and arrows of the day with equanimity. I also resolved (for Lent) to use the phrase in response to any post or tweet I strongly disagreed with, instead of firing off something snarky or harsh.
It worked well. I found myself passing the peace quite often to my House Representative Eric Cantor, but so be it. I actually felt better doing so then if I had responded in kind (or rather, unkindly). And so after Easter I decided to just continue the practice.
And something interesting began to happen. I started to get folks responding with the phrase "and also with you."
Now that's the way to start the morning! I can only hope that everyone continues to pass the peace along as they go about their day.
Yesterday I received two particularly pissy emails from two different people about two different problems. There was a time when I would have matched tone and intent and had at it. Instead, I let the emails sit, realized in one case that they were right, and in the other it didn't particularly matter.
I answered the one in a professional and calm manner, and ignored the other. And today, things are different (and better) with both people because of it.
So if you see me post "Peace be with you," then you'll know I've signed on for the first time that day. And while you don't have to respond, if you would like to pass that message on to others, then we all might make the day a little better.
Sunday, January 08, 2012
Thoughts after the major event
Yesterday I shared my concerns about a major event at our church -- the presentation of a controversial proposal. A presentation I was partially responsible for making. I admitted yesterday that it was something of a test of faith. Well, as it turned out, the proposal passed (albeit not unanimously).
In the end, it was faith that carried the day. The meeting never became acrimonious, and although there were disagreements, we did indeed treat each other with respect. I like to think that we were all with the same Spirit -- at least for a little while.
Working within a church can really test one's faith. I think it's because you get to see how the sausage is made (as it were). Sometimes one can know too much. But then things happen like the meeting today. We all behaved in a Christian manner (which is as it should be). Yesterday I was thinking how odd it was that one's faith should be tried inside the church. Today I felt instead that it had been restored.
In the end, it was faith that carried the day. The meeting never became acrimonious, and although there were disagreements, we did indeed treat each other with respect. I like to think that we were all with the same Spirit -- at least for a little while.
Working within a church can really test one's faith. I think it's because you get to see how the sausage is made (as it were). Sometimes one can know too much. But then things happen like the meeting today. We all behaved in a Christian manner (which is as it should be). Yesterday I was thinking how odd it was that one's faith should be tried inside the church. Today I felt instead that it had been restored.
Saturday, January 07, 2012
Thoughts before a major event
There's a problem with serving in a church -- it can really strain your faith. In our Presbyterian Church, I'm one of the elders (it's an honorary term that has nothing to do with age, thank you). In addition to several committees, I'm also on the Personnel Committee.
In my denomination, (Presbyterian Church USA), all decisions are made by the Session (the ruling body made up of deacons and elders) -- with an important exception. The congregation votes on changes in the pastor's terms of call (salary plus perks).
Well, in December we gave the congregation our recommended change to the terms, and were sent packing with a counter-motion to return with more information. We were proposing a major change, and the primary reaction was sort of sticker shock.
Churches are assemblies of human beings, and unfortunately subject to the same dynamics. So we have petty politics and factions and all the nonsense that brings, well, unChristian behavior.
Tomorrow morning we'll make our presentation again, and none of us our looking forward to it. We've laid out our presentation, rehearsed it, run over it in our minds for the past three weeks -- but we don't know what the outcome will be.
And that's really where the problem is. Although we'll facing some folks hostile to our proposal, we need to remember that we're all part of the same church family. And if our proposal is defeated? Then we need to not hold a grudge, but accept the outcome with equanimity
And -- oh yes -- whatever happens tomorrow will be as God wills it. Who would have thought that such a great test of faith would occur inside the church?
In my denomination, (Presbyterian Church USA), all decisions are made by the Session (the ruling body made up of deacons and elders) -- with an important exception. The congregation votes on changes in the pastor's terms of call (salary plus perks).
Well, in December we gave the congregation our recommended change to the terms, and were sent packing with a counter-motion to return with more information. We were proposing a major change, and the primary reaction was sort of sticker shock.
Churches are assemblies of human beings, and unfortunately subject to the same dynamics. So we have petty politics and factions and all the nonsense that brings, well, unChristian behavior.
Tomorrow morning we'll make our presentation again, and none of us our looking forward to it. We've laid out our presentation, rehearsed it, run over it in our minds for the past three weeks -- but we don't know what the outcome will be.
And that's really where the problem is. Although we'll facing some folks hostile to our proposal, we need to remember that we're all part of the same church family. And if our proposal is defeated? Then we need to not hold a grudge, but accept the outcome with equanimity
And -- oh yes -- whatever happens tomorrow will be as God wills it. Who would have thought that such a great test of faith would occur inside the church?
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Unintentional Irony
On
our way back home from Thanksgiving, we happened to drive through a
small town. This unusual gift shop caught my eye. Outside were a number
of signs. One sternly proclaimed that all the goods were American Made.OK, a lot of people feel strongly about that. No problem here. Other signs advertised Military Supplies and Tactical and Hunting Supplies.
I don't have a problem with hunting -- especially after having four different collisions with deer in as many vehicles. I'm not quite sure what "tactical supplies" might be (tackle?), but still, no worries.
But it was the other signs admonishing the reader to Put the Christ in Christmas that I found interesting. Because one was right next to the sign for Military Supplies.
See, Christ had very strong opinions about using weapons, even in self-defense.Here's what happened when armed soldiers came to arrest him:
Then came they, and laid hands on Jesus and took him. And, behold, one of them which were with Jesus stretched out his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest's, and smote off his ear. Then said Jesus unto him, "Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword."
- Matthew 26: 50-52
The story -- with Jesus' admonishment -- is also told in Luke and John.
So, to me anyway, selling military supplies seems somewhat incompatible with the notion of putting Christ into Christmas. I mean, if you feel that strongly about the Prince of Peace...
Monday, April 05, 2010
To our Easter/Christmas Friends
Of course, I hope that you break with tradition and come more often. You're certainly more than welcome (and I hope we made that clear). And, while you might be giving up the luxury of sleeping in at least one day a week, it's only through attending that you'll discover what you've been missing, and get the full benefit of Christian Fellowship.
For one thing, you won't be among strangers. Perhaps you know some of us through work, or the neighborhood, but by only attending twice a year you miss the experiences we share throughout the year. Things like family game nights, and outings, concerts, and day trips. Or things like serving the community through work at the shelter, or helping distribute food, or volunteering for light home repair.
These experiences (and seeing the same folks every Sunday) are great ways to get better acquainted with a pretty diverse (and I like to think interesting) group of people. We have educators, woodworkers, veterans (of several wars), firefighters, police officers, doctors, writers, and many more. Some of us have traveled far and wide, some camp, some fish and hunt. Some of us even play cards (yeah, we can do that). Whatever your interest, chances are there's someone here who shares your passion.
But there's an even more important aspect of Christian fellowship that you cheat yourself out of by only coming twice a year -- and it's a big part of why we celebrate those two holidays in the first place. Because Jesus was pretty clear: we are to treat others and serve others as He served us.
So whatever problems you're having in life, we understand, and we can help. Mostly because we've gone through the same thing. You might think, by only seeing us twice a year, that we're kind of insulated from the indignities of the real world. Nothing could be further from the truth.
We're all human, and our imperfections are with us always. Members of our congregation have suffered through divorce, others survived destructive relationships. Some have been victims of violent crime. Some of us have lost our jobs -- and some our businesses. Some of us have suffered with addiction, or helplessly watch a loved one be ravaged by it. We've been struck down by debilitating illness, or lost family members to disease.
Individually, we're not much. But when we come together, we help each other through those difficult times no one should have to suffer alone.
So if life's good for you now, come on back and we'll celebrate that fact with you. If it's not, please come back so we can help.
Because that's what friends are for.
Hope to see you before December, but if not, we'll welcome you then.
- Ralph
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