Heart Matters

Over the course of the last 10 years, several books have had a tremendous impact on my throughts and feelings about the ideals that surround (at least, for me) discipleship and the Gospel and Church life. (See related blog posting, October 18.) Two of these books will be the bases of what I consider to be among the most important discussions of our life together… and our entering into a new chapter in our personal and corporate lives at Strawbridge.

The first of these books, The Sacred Romance (by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge), will be the basis of a sermon series by the same name (to be presented between January 4 and February 22). While there’s a need to be critical of aspects of its discussion (as I believe there is with any and all books and discussions and teachings), "Sacred Romance" has done more than any other book I have read to assist the Gospel in making that “longest journey” which is the “18 inches from head to heart.” I’ll share this coming Sunday, for example, about how the book was part of a bigger move of the Holy Spirit to convert my relationship with the Gospel and Jesus Christ from a mostly academic/intellectual one to a more holistic (and balanced, I believe) engagement of mind and heart and soul and being. Breathtaking it is (or should be) for us to consider that we – you, I – are His cherished beloved… at the heart of Jesus’ Passion!

The second of these books (which will inform our focus during Lent, from Ash Wednesday to Palm Sunday) is Peter Scazzero’s Emotionally Healthy Church. (A companion, follow-up, well worth reading, has a more personal, less corporate focus and is entitled Emotionally Healthy Spirituality.) I first heard Scazzero at a Beeson event in Nashville. I found his testimony compelling and his work more than refreshing. (A video of this testimony as well as a pdf version of this testimony are available by clicking either word, underlined above.) Here was a life experience and a perspective on ministry which brought together so many of the scattered (and seemingly disparate) threads of my own experience and ponderings about ministry: contemplative spirituality, family systems theory, the importance of a “rule” for spiritual formation,… And at the heart of it all? Something I believe to be crucial, not just to Strawbridge at this time in our history, but to every disciple and community of disciples who would seek to get "below the surface" of real and full and "deep" discipleship.

[I’m already anticipating the ways this Lenten series will synergize with a 40-Day prayer vigil focused on the principles of being emotionally healthy disciples and an emotionally healthy congregation – a vigil which will lead us to some kind of “sacred assembly” whereat we’ll all have a chance to leave baggage behind and begin a new and fuller chapter in our lives. Don’t worry: more details coming!]

Enough for now... It’s sufficient, though:

1. to give you some sense of the “lay of the land” immediately before us (in our ongoing “journey of clarification”),


2. to give you some recommendations for reading (to compliment your Sunday morning experience through the course of the months ahead), and


3. to declare my intentions and hopes that we can be about a conversation on these series/messages/topics (through this and other forums) over the course of these coming month!

Yes, "heart matters" in discipleship: it matters that our hearts are engaged by the Gospel... and it matters that our hearts are on the way to becoming pure and whole. Yes, the "clarification of our hearts" is very much a focus of the first third of the coming year!

I pray that you are looking forward to it all as much as I am!

Coffee Break: A Mini Christmas "Concert"

Enjoyed posting some holiday music favorites (via youtube) on my Facebook last night. Enjoyed it enough that I'd like to share a few with you, here -- each with a little commentary.

[Maybe it's time to get a cup of coffee, or hot chocolate, or tea... and to close the door... and sit back, be still, and relax...]

Okay, call me a sap and a sucker for this first one... Still, it's a favorite since I first heard it years ago. And little Avery White (Lord, I pray, she doesn't lose soul and spirit amidst all her success at an early age!): her expressions make this particular youtube find most special. (If you can, slide the play position forward to the 40 second mark and get past some of the empty verbage.)



The next two pieces are from one whom I believe to be the most powerful Christian songwriter and composer of our time, Michael Card. His is the real gift of profound theology, artistry, and wordsmithing. Unconventional as they are (that is, they are not in the mainstream of holiday music), these selections work so well to present the gift of Christmas... and to remind me/us of our choice now... and throughout the year.



In addition to Card's music in this next piece, I also appreciate the rich synchronization between music and film (mostly clips from "The Nativity")... My compliments to the creator of this clip (whoever he/she is):



Finally, there's my favorite sacred song of the Season, "O Holy Night." The words get richer with every hearing. Had to scour the internet for a long time to find a version out there with all the verses. Yes, there are lot of awesome renditions out there (check out Mariah Carey, e.g., or Charlotte Church with Placido Domingo), but each of these comes at the expense of some precious words. Neglected in most versions, you see, are verses 3 and/or 4 (or parts thereof). As you listen to this "full version," consider the words [printed below the video] very prayerfully:



O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Led by the light of Faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here come the wise men from Orient land.
The King of Kings lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friend.
He knows our need, to our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King, Behold your King.

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory evermore proclaim.

Blessed are the Poor in Spirit...

I'm preparing for the “Blue Christmas” service tomorrow night. (I’m on an internal campaign to change the name next year to “A Service for the Longest Nights,” as others are calling it… or something akin. Frankly, “Blue Christmas” has too much Elvis in it for me… and “Longest Night” is so much more creative: speaking of Winter's solstice and hurting folks going through long, sleepless nights – made even longer by the pomp of the Season and our culture’s emphasis on “fa la la la la…”)

If it’s not clear already, the function of the service is to reach out to those going through any number of griefs and mournings in life… and to help them to find the deep meaning of the Season in their times of feeling “blue”—in their long and lonely nights. And here, while the death of loved ones is clearly our most immediate thought, let us not forget those who are grieving the loss of jobs, the loss of a marriage, the loss of what never was,…

Realist that I am (and here, I guess I need to apologize to those eternal optimists who don’t want any “downers” in their Christmas… or Christianity… or life)… Realist that I am, I have to say that I believe the majority of folks live with at least some part of their being in some kind of “long night”—some kind of “dark night of the soul,” as St. Teresa put it. It’s a notion akin to my belief that each of us is broken. How did Thoreau put it – about our all living “lives of quiet desperation"? Yes, while some may be in denial and some may think the best way to get better is to put a positive face on things, I believe that “Blue Christmas” and “Longest Nights” are realities for us all!

In fact, there’s the way they [i.e., mourning and grieving] need to be realities for us – if we are to experience the full joy and meaning of the gift of God… at Christmas and beyond. The Scriptures abound with direct and indirect declarations that it is the lost and the least and the lonely that find the real life and living of God’s Kingdom:

• “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.” (Or as I translate it: “Blessed are they who declare Spiritual bankruptcy, for they are finally in a position to let God have His way!”)
  
  
• “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”
  

• “If I must boast, I will boast in the things that show my weakness… For in my weakness he is glorified.”

I’m strongly believing, then, that the most appropriate and meaningful Service of Worship for Advent is, in fact, this “Service for a Longest Night… or ‘Blue Christmas’”… and that those who are in the best position to receive God’s gifts in Christmas are those who humbly admit that it’s the service they need. From the beginning, Advent has been a Season of yearning, hungering, thirsting… -- with a strong pinch of hope for and anticipation of deliverance from the Outside. From the beginning, Advent has been a Season best experienced by the outcast and downcast.

(And here my Soul wants to ask forgiveness of God: that, in just one more way, we’ve let the World around us dictate and drive the spirit of our spiritual exercises and Church year!)

Even if you do not attend this year’s “Blue Christmas,” can I encourage you to:

• pray for all around who are broken… and who mourn and grieve… and whose mourning and grieving is that much harder because of the secular foci of the season; and
  
  
• prayerfully consider your own brokenness
  

The Light is brightest at night…

And Heaven’s riches are most valued when we see our poverty!

In Your Mercy, Lord... Hear Our Prayer...

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On this Sunday afternoon (post-Council meeting and a decision to adjust the Sunday morning schedule), my heart is very heavy.

There are some who left the Council meeting feeling like they lost, feeling left out – hardly the feelings that any part of Church should inspire.

“If you so hurt, then why would you have advocated any adjustment in the first place?,” I hear the question.

In large part, because I believe there were more who were feeling left out without an adjustment – but leaving with no voice (at least, that we were hearing). Some were visiting 11 o’clock worship [with the Sanctuary 85% empty], for example… and, feeling no real energy in worship or from the worshipping congregation, were leaving with the decision that Strawbridge did not feel right for them. Still, again, there was the young mother who told me of various times they were tempted to leave (because Sunday morning wasn’t really working for them). “I told my husband [with this new proposal]: look, it finally is going to really work for us!” Truly, I believe (yes, my opinion), the negative consequences -- not just for Strawbridge but for the greater Kingdom (which is what really matters to me!) -- of doing nothing would have been greater than any potential [adverse] fallout from what's been decided... or any other option for that matter.

It goes back to my previous blog: you’ll never make everyone happy.

Still, even when you move (with reason and just cause), there’s pain when everyone is not happy. Particularly sharp is the pain when there’s a sense of hurt and injury – even though none was ever intended.

To be sure, part of my reaction was/is to be mad at those so hurting: “If they’d had their eyes on God and His Kingdom… and the needs of young families, they’d surely be able to compromise,” I think. Humility… and staying with the course in community and covenant -- even when you don’t get things your way: that's the proper way to behave.

But, IT'S NOT THAT EASY!!!!! These people are Christian! They do have real feelings and concerns and needs! God is in it all… and in each one of us!

And so, I ache: my head aches, my heart aches, my stomach is knotted… Yes, I believe we’ve done something necessary for the Church to move forward. But, it doesn’t take away one bit from the real nausea I’m feeling…

Yes, I ache… and I pray… and my only consolation is that God is not finished with any of us yet…

Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

To Thine Own Self Be True!

Among the comments emanating from our recent survey about the Sunday morning schedule was this one:

"Please ask Pastor Reiter to stop calling women “dear” when we come to communion. It’s condescending and rude. Why doesn’t the pastor shake hands with people after 8:30 service?"

Admittedly, there was some hurt and defensiveness on my part. “I’ve never meant that ‘dear’ (or ‘brother,’ for men) as anything but a term endearment for those coming to receive the most intimate of gifts from a loving Heavenly Father,” “this person is calling me rude and condescending without even giving me a chance!,” “and what does this have to do with the price of tea in China… or the timing of worship services?,” "they want a handshake but rail against a term of endearment!": these were among my initial feelings and thoughts (and maybe some lingering feelings and thoughts… hey, I’m human!).

Truly, I don’t want to argue about or for any of these feelings or thoughts. They are quite simply feelings. (To be sure, there’s that part of me that wishes the Soul behind the comment would realize that her own emotions to the word “dear” [and what was behind that reaction… where are those strong words and the feelings attached coming from?] are as much the issue as my using the word.)

Still, all this said, there are a few basic lessons as I move forward… (Really, in spite of all the space and time I’ve taken, I am moving forward!) Clearly, for example, there’s my watching my tongue – being a little more careful with words like “dear” and “sweetie”… words I used to throw out without much caution… I can see how they could be construed by some as “old timey” and chauvinistic.

Strongest, though, is the lesson—actually, the reminder—that you can and will never make everyone happy. (Yes, I know it’s truth in my head… It’s one of those things, though, my heart is still learning.) Face it: if the well-intended and rather unconscious use of a word has the ability to ruffle feathers and incur judgment, what else is it that I am doing that is turning folks off? I recall, in fact, the transference that can take place when a person, any person, reminds someone – by looks or sound or whatever – of a bad memory or personage from the past.

Yes, you’re just not going to make everyone happy, Jim!

To be sure, it could paralyze one from doing or saying anything. A vow of silence and a paper bag over the head might be the answer.

Quite the contrary, though: my soul finds a certain freedom in the realization that I can’t and will never please everybody. “Hey, if the well-intended and rather unconscious word can offend and turn off, then there’s reason for living a life of integrity and speaking the truth as one sees it. Hey, if you’re going to turn some folks off anyway... If you will never be in a place where everyone likes what you do, then, the offense might as well be over the things that really matter!”

More than enough for now, huh?

Oh, yeah, one last thing. I still can’t believe that the author of that comment would have the nerve to sign it! Thanks, Kathy Reiter!

Welcome to "Winter's Lent"

"Our ancestors, in an all out effort to save the holy celebration of Christmas, very wisely included a time of preparation, an Advent season, to properly prepare for our Lord’s birthday. They did not feel spiritually ready for Christmas until they had prayed, fasted, and examined their hearts in a season of winter Lent—i.e., Advent."

—Pastor Bill Hinson

I’m struggling with a Faith that calls for penitence. It’s not the penitence per se. No, my real struggle is more precisely that of elevating a Faith that calls for introspection and sacrifice and thinking of the other in a culture that puts a premium on comfort, convenience, and feeling good. Especially when that culture has made its inroads into the Church and a popular understanding (or misunderstanding, as it may be) of Christ and the Gospel, it’s especially hard to argue for “deny yourself and take up your cross” without feeling like a real wet blanket.

Had an organist at one of my early churches who totally railed against “Prayers of Confession” in worship. Her words serve to epitomize, for me, the sentiments of a feel good culture: “All they [prayers of confession] serve to do is make people feel guilty in worship… such negative energy… such prayers are totally passé and out of touch with the times!”

And, along comes Advent…

Popular sentiment – not just from the culture, but within the Church – is that it’s Christmas. So much so that “God Bless the typical middle-of-the-road Protestant Pastor if there’s much talk of saving the Hymns of Christmas until December 25th (and thereafter).” Gone is any notion that Advent, which means “to come,” might call for some consideration, not just of his first coming, but of His coming here, now… and His coming again in His fulness at the end of Time! And gone, in a world that values comfort and ease, is any notion that these “Second Comings” might demand our adjusting our lives and living – any notion that God may not be happy with the ways we’re doing things. Yes, gone is any sense of Advent as a season of penitence and soulful preparation.

It can almost make one feel like the Grinch to advocate silence and solitude (for introspection)… and confession… and a real, substantial divestment of self for the sake of the poor and downcast.

Still, at the potential cost of being such a “Scrooge” and of potentially promoting “bad feelings,” I’d like to suggest a few things we might be about on the way to observing a “Holy Advent”—a holy season of preparing for his Comings in our lives. This list is by no means exhaustive. Still, it’s enough to suggest real channels of meaning and joy in the days ahead:

• observe a regular [daily] quiet time… give yourself to a prayerful reading of the Gospels (especially the first few chapters of Matthew and Luke) and/or some other seasonal devotional guide… but, as much as you read, be still and listen…
  
  
• take on one of any number of mission/outreach projects to those less fortunate
  
  
• consider the needs of the homebound, the grieving, the recuperating—and do something about it: a note, a call, a visit!
  
  
• extend or receive a word of forgiveness—especially the one so long overdue!
  
  
• attend worship services and programs slated for the coming weeks in your area… and prayerfully consider who it is (among your neighbors, family, co-workers,...) that you can and will invite (even bring) to upcoming events
  
  

Whatever we do (or don’t do), my prayer for us all is that we’ll not settle for the lesser preparations for Christmas: the shopping, the parties, the decorating,… Of course, none of these are bad. But, succumbing to them at the price of a “Holy Advent” can be just one more way the really Great can be lost in a sea of good.

Perhaps Pastor Hinson summed it up best: “Please do not let the world rearrange our ancient calendar. First comes Advent and then Christmas. I guarantee Christmas will be much better when preceded by a prayerful Advent.”

Remember Who You Are...

Gearing up for January/February's series on "The Sacred Romance" -- wherein we affirm the Gospel as the ultimate love story (in which we are focal characters)...

Ours, though, is the curse of forgetting: forgetting the overarching story (i.e., the "metanarrative," as the academics call it) of our lives and living, forgetting who we are, forgetting Whose we are...

A clip from the children's classic, The Lion King, has long stood out as the perfect illustration for me: of this forgetfulness... and our call to remember... and our need to return:





Yes, we have forgotten who we are [in our baptisms]. Truly, whether we have been apart from the church for decades (or a lifetime)... or a part of it for the same, we are more than we have become. Dear Newcomer... and Old-Timer: isn't it time to "return" and claim our place, afresh, in the "circle of life" and living?!

Yes, there may be more in our childhood stories and epic adventures than we ever imagined! Maybe our hearts,... maybe our salvation!

Beauty and the Beast: Music Hath Charms to Soothe the Savage Breast

you-tubing today... believe it or not, it's a part of my worship design work... hey, someone's got to do it!

had me returning to one of my favorites: Connie Talbot taming the savage beast, [American Idol's] Simon Cowell...

get a cup of coffee... or tea... and enjoy!



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"Here's to You, Jesus... and the Outsider!": Reflections on Christian "Social" Drinking

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[23]"Everything is permissible"—but not everything is beneficial. "Everything is permissible"—but not everything is constructive. 24Nobody should seek his own good, but the good of others… [31]So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. [32]Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God—[33]even as I try to please everybody in every way. For I am not seeking my own good but the good of of many, so that they may be saved. (1 Corinthians 10:23,24, 31-33)

“We affirm our long-standing support of abstinence from alcohol [and illegal drugs] as a faithful witness to God's liberating and redeeming love for persons... We commit ourselves to assisting those who suffer from abuse or dependence, and their families, in finding freedom through Jesus Christ and in finding good opportunities for treatment, for ongoing counseling, and for reintegration into society.” (From The Book of Discipline of The United Methodist Church [2004])

It has happened more than once in my ministry. A church member goes to a Church function (as, e.g., a Sunday School party). Unbeknownst to the class, that person is a recovering alcoholic. Again, I have seen it more than once: the look of disappointment… and the sense of betrayal (that they shared with me, their pastor)—something along the lines “how could that which I thought was a safe haven [i.e., the church and my Sunday School class] be just one more place of temptation, one more place which ordains the demon I am trying to escape?” Of course, these souls were strong enough and “recovered” enough to voice their disappointment and concern. Of course, they eventually gravitated to other communities that were more sensitive to the needs of the weaker among us. (A more disturbing question for me is: for every one of these who voiced their concern, how many others left the church altogether… or, God forbid, forsook their path of abstinence?!)

For too many years, I have heard too many Methodists brag about their Methodism as though it was a license to “eat, drink, and be merry”: “one of the reasons I am Methodist is because we can dance and drink!” (It’s a sentiment which smacks of the other slam I hear about “Methodists believing anything!”) At a time of year when many are prone to assemble and party (and to do so under the umbrella of the Church through one of its programs), allow me to clarify the Methodist—and, in my opinion, the Christian position—on drinking. (Therein, maybe you’ll overhear some principles to be distilled for dancing and “eating meat sacrificed to idols” and all other sorts of behavior!)

Yes, it is true—and grounded in the Gospel: that Methodists are “free.” However, lest liberty become license—i.e., freedom give way to licentiousness—some higher principles must prevail and govern that freedom.

This “higher principle” the Apostle lays down as loving regard for and sensitivity to one’s neighbor. Yes, he argues in his correspondence with the Corinthians, you are free to do all things—free to partake of every kind of food and drink! But not all things edify—that is, “build others up.” In the end, then, we gladly constrain and refine all we can do on the basis of all we should do for the sake of others and our witness to these others—whether “they” be our children, the weaker among us… or the weaker who may unknowingly come our way. For the Christian, you see, drunkenness is hardly the measure of too much drinking as that solitary sip that might cause another to stumble… or think less of your witness, the Church, or the Faith. (If there’s any “stumbling block” or obstacle to the Faith for others, let it be Christ and Christ alone!)

Amidst discussion of mission and purpose in various congregations, I have heard those who emphasize that we should not forsake our existing congregation. The thinking here would seem to be that, amidst our efforts to reach outsiders, we should not neglect the needs of existing members. To be sure, we have an obligation to members that is not eclipsed by the needs of outsiders. However, a real part of that obligation and ministry is to equip these “insiders”—in the very Spirit of Jesus our Lord—to be passionate about the outsider and sensitive to their needs and potential weaknesses. (Give me a group whose primary mission is to members and I’ll show you a country club. Give me a group whose primary mission is to outsiders [i.e., those who could and should and would be with us] and I’ll show you a Church in the image of Christ!)

Of course, I know I need to be careful here—lest I sound judgmental and run the risk of hitting that opposite extreme which is legalism. I am aware of and respectful, for example, of Episcopal friends who invited us to a wine and cheese reception after a performance of “The Messiah” last year night—even as I am aware of a host of our brothers and sisters in Christ who partake of wine every Sunday morning as part of their communion liturgy! Still, on this last note, I can not help but remember another recovering Soul, a newborn to the Church, who humbly came to me—fumbling with the right way to ask whether we Methodists served real wine during Communion. “I’m sorry to ask, Preacher,” he said, “but you need to understand that one drop is enough to knock me off the wagon!” With that dear Soul (and others) in mind, I’ll gladly forbear a drop of wine—even though I have a “right” and the “freedom” to drink the whole bottle! And, I’ll continue to celebrate Holy Communion using the fruit of the vine bottled by fellow Methodist, Mr. Welch.

In the coming Holiday (i.e., Holy Day) Season… and beyond, can I encourage you—as individuals and as members of the Strawbridge Family of Faith—to be about this same [Methodist] witness to the weak among us… and the weak who could be and would be and should be among us?!

Pioneers vs Settlers

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In view of this Sunday's sermon (on "A Risk-Taking Church")--a sermon which will draw upon imagery from the commentary on the church which is Wes Seeliger's Western Theology, I have decided to include the following summary. (This summary itself is an excerpt from Brennan Manning's Lion and the Lamb.)

Basically, Seeliger and Manning--and I, myself (in this Sunday's message)--seek define two possibilities for the modern church: there's the Settler "circle-the-wagon, pitch-the-camp, let's-stay-right-here" mindset... and then theres the Pioneer "Wagon-Ho, ours-is-a-manifest-destiny-to-win-the-world" outlook.

Writes Manning:

There are two visions of life, two kinds of people. The first see life as a possession to be carefully guarded. They are called settlers. The second see life as a wild, fantastic, explosive gift. They are called pioneers.

These two types give rise to two kinds of theology: Settler Theology and Pioneer Theology. According to Wes Seeliger in, in his book Western Theology, the first kind, Settler Theology, is an attempt to answer all the questions, define and housebreak some sort of Supreme Being, establish the status quo on golden tablets in CinemaScope. Pioneer Theology is an attempt to talk about what it means to receive the strange gift of life. The Wild West is the setting for both theologies.

In Settler Theology, the church is the courthouse. It is the center of town life. The old stone structure dominates the town square. Its windows are small and this makes things dark inside. Within the courthouse walls records are kept, taxes collected, trials held for bad guys. The courthouse is the settler’s symbol of law, order, stability, and--most important--security. The mayor’s office is on the top floor. His eagle eye ferrets out the smallest detail of town life.

In Pioneer Theology, the church is the covered wagon. It’s a house on wheels, always on the move. The covered wagon is where the pioneers eat, sleep, fight, love, and die. It bears the marks of life and movement--it creaks, is scarred with arrows, bandaged with baling wire. The covered wagon is always where the action is. It moves toward the future and doesn’t bother to glorify its own ruts. The old wagon isn’t comfortable, but the pioneers don’t mind. They are more into adventure than comfort.

In Settler Theology, God is the mayor. He is a sight to behold. Dressed like a dude from back East, he lounges in an over-stuffed chair in his courthouse office. He keeps the blinds drawn. No one sees him or knows him directly, but since there is order in the town, who can deny that he is there? The mayor is predictable and always on schedule. The settlers fear the mayor, but look to him to clear the payroll and keep things going. Peace and quiet are the mayor’s main concerns. That’s why he sends the sheriff to check on pioneers who ride into town.

In Pioneer Theology, God is the trail boss. He is rough and rugged, full of life. He chews tobacco, drinks straight whiskey. The trail boss lives, eats, sleeps, and fights with his people. Their well-being is his concern. Without him the wagon wouldn’t move; living as a free man would be impossible. The trail boss often gets down in the mud with the pioneers to help push the wagon, which often gets stuck. He prods the pioneers when they get soft and want to turn back. His fist is an expression of his concern.

In Settler Theology, Jesus is the sheriff. He’s the guy who is sent by the mayor to enforce the rules. He wears a white hat, drinks milk, out-draws the bad guys. The sheriff decides who is thrown into jail. There is a saying in town that goes: those who believe that the mayor sent the sheriff, and follow the rules, they won’t stay in Boothill when it comes their time.

In Pioneer Theology, Jesus is the scout. He rides out ahead to find out which way the pioneers should go. He lives all the dangers of the trail. The scout suffers every hardship, is attacked by the Indians. Through his words and actions he reveals the true intentions of the trail boss. By looking at the scout, those on the trail learn what it means to be a pioneer.

In Settler Theology, the Holy Spirit is the saloon girl. Her job is to comfort the settlers. They come to her when they feel lonely, or when life gets dull or dangerous. She tickles them under the chin and makes everything okay again. The saloon girl squeals to the sheriff when someone starts disturbing the peace.

In Pioneer Theology, the Holy Spirit is the buffalo hunter. He rides along with the covered wagon and furnishes fresh meat for the pioneers. Without it they would die. The buffalo hunter is a strange character--sort of a wild man. The pioneers never can tell what he will do next. He scares the hell out of the settlers. He has a big, black gun that goes off like a cannon. He rides into town on Sunday to shake up the settlers. You see, every Sunday morning the settlers have a little ice cream party in the courthouse. With his gun in hand the buffalo hunter sneaks up to one of the courthouse windows. He fires a tremendous blast that rattles the whole courthouse. Men jump out of their skin, women scream, dogs bark. Chucking to himself, the buffalo hunter rides back to the wagon train shooting up the town as he goes.

In Settler Theology, the Christian is the settler. He fears the open, unknown frontier. His concern is to stay on good terms with the mayor and keep out of the sheriff’s way. “Safety first” is his motto. To him the courthouse is a symbol of security, peace, order, and happiness. He keeps his money in the bank. The banker is his best friend. The settler never misses an ice cream party.

In Pioneer Theology, the Christian is the pioneer. He is a man of daring, hungry for new life. He rides hard, knows how to use a gun when necessary. The pioneer feels sorry for the settlers and tries to tell them of the joy and fulfillment of life on the trail. He dies with his boots on.

In Settler Theology, the clergyman is the banker. Within his vault are locked the valuables of the town. He is a highly respected man. He has a gun, but keeps it hidden in his desk. He feels that he and the sheriff have a lot in common. After all, they both protect the bank.

In Pioneer Theology, the clergyman is the cook. He doesn’t furnish the meat. He just dishes up what the buffalo hunter provides. This is how he supports the movement of the wagon. He never confuses his job with that of the trail boss, scout, or buffalo hunter. He sees himself as just another pioneer who has learned to cook. The cook’s job is to help the pioneers pioneer.

In Settler Theology, faith is trusting in the safety of the town: obeying the laws, keeping your nose clean, believing the mayor is in the courthouse.

In Pioneer Theology, faith is the spirit of adventure. The readiness to move out. To risk everything on the trail. Faith is obedience to the restless voice of the trail boss.

In Settler Theology, sin is breaking one of the town’s ordinances.

In Pioneer Theology, sin is wanting to turn back.

In Settler Theology, salvation is living close to home and hanging around the courthouse.

In Pioneer Theology, salvation is being more afraid of sterile town life than of death on the trail. Salvation is joy at the thought of another day to push on into the unknown. It is trusting the trail boss and following the scout while living on the meat provided by the buffalo hunter.

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Beyond "Buffet Christianity"

“It just makes you feel good inside”: the pitch of a local church I won’t name (though I suspect many of you know of whom I write… still, not naming it has a way of making the point that I don’t want to digress into church/denomina-tional battles). To me, it’s too much the sentiment of the age: "I need a faith and a church that make me feel good inside." To me, it’s disturbing: Christianity is not so much nor has it ever been about our avoiding the cross as much as it is our living, with Him, through (and beyond) our crosses!

It’s truth I encountered as I finished Gary Thomas’ Authentic Faith the other day. (It’s not the best written book, but it does do a good job of establishing its thesis: namely, that there are hard parts of life and even hard disciplines of the faith that God uses for our spiritual growth; to avoid such hard times is to side-step spiritual maturity.) In his Epilogue, Thomas quote Harry Schaumburg’s False Intimacy:

A quick reflection on the first-century church reveals that New Testament Christians never attempted to validate the truth of Christianity by the way in which their experiences in life improved [or made them feel better or become richer]. For them, becoming Christians meant real sacrifice and sometimes death. (Thomas, Authentic Faith, p. 241)

Folks, to borrow from Mother Theresa, discipleship has nothing to do with our becoming more successful but it has everything to do with our becoming more faithful--becoming transformed more and more into the full image of Jesus our Lord (an image which was often bloodied and bowed and broken, with tears streaming down the cheek.)

Sadly, though, there are too many who pick and choose – custom design – their discipleship response: “I’d like a good heaping plate of feeling good, topped with prospertiy… and, oh, hold the ‘brussel sprouts’ which are the dying to self and the mission work and any real identifying with the poor and broken and the…”

Recalls for me an article by Dick Staub on “Buffet Religion, Buffet Christianity”:

We should not be surprised that today’s Christians are constructing a self-serving approach to the faith. Most Christians seem to think the faith is a buffet when it is, in fact, a fixed menu. At a buffet you pick and choose what you want, but in a fixed menu you get it all… Buffet Christians want to take the part they like and leave the less appealing parts—you know, lots of desserts and no broccoli. (from "CultureWatch" at http://www.dickstuab.com/)

And then, he goes on to conclude:

The Christian life is not a buffet; it is a fixed menu. Everything on the menu has been carefully planned and is time-tested to produce health and growth. As the old chorus puts it, Jesus must be “Lord of All or not Lord at all.”

Tough as it is to accept, we are not in charge of the menu! No, ours is the simple choice: to be in it for the full course of Christian discipleship… or to be about some other diet which is delicious and immediately satisfying but hardly Christian (no matter what you call it).

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Liberals (Democrats) vs Conservatives (Republicans)

A convergence of things has me musing about the differences between liberals/democrats and conservatives/republicans: there’s election day, of course; there was my participation in a clergy marriage/leadership retreat (and engagement of the Myers-Briggs Personality Inventory);… even my recent post on traditional versus contemporary (and my wish that we could find a centrist position that brings them together).

At first blush, a long-held generalization about liberals and conservatives was something I confided to only a few: “liberals think with their hearts, conservatives feel with their brains.”*** It comes across rather brusque if not superficial.

Still, it was not formulated or held without some grounds:
• liberals are often referred to as “bleeding hearts” (where “heart” is the seat of emotions and feelings)… and Bush’s reference to a “compassionate Conservative” seemed like an oxymoron to many
• Liberals seemed to always resort to what Jesus, the Word of God, would have done (appealing to his love as an emotional impulse)… and conservatives seemed to always resort to what the Bible, as the Word of God, says (appealing to it’s truth as an objective reality to be discerned and obeyed)

More recently, though, there’s been other data/input to undergird my generalization—making me feel a little more justified in my position… and a little more willing to air it. First, there was my overhearing a quote from Churchill on the radio the other day: something along the lines that “any man who is under 30, and is not a liberal, has not heart; and any man who is over 30, and is not a conservative, has no brains.”

And then, there was my engagement of Myers-Briggs (MBTI) preferences. Election fervor had me wondering about Democrats vs Republicans—so much so that I did a little googling.

“Allen Hammer published several statistics about the political affiliations of each MBTI preference in Snapshots of the 16 Types. In his research, he found that: Republicans preferred INTJ, ENTJ, ESTJ, and ISTJ (the executive types). The ESTJs are more than twice as likely as the INFPs and INFJs to be Republicans. Democrats were typically NF or INFJ. In fact, those people with a preference for Feeling are more likely than other types to identify themselves as Democrats.” (http://www.thembtiblog.com/2008/10/mbti-preferences-of-republicans-and.html)

(For those not versed in Myers-Briggs, the third letter in each personality configuration refers to thinking (T) or feeling (F) as the primary mode of decision-making—so that Hammers stats verify that Republicans feel and Democrats think.)

Of course, the real issue is not whether my generalization is founded (or not) as much as it is, just one more time, our need to find a way to bring it all together – to find that precious synergy and synthesis: liberal and conservative, heart and mind, emotions and thoughts, truth and love, knowledge and vital piety, the mercy of Jesus with the uncompromised truth/law that Jesus declared and upheld, democrat and republican.

And here, I guess, I “hit the wall” of reality this side of Heaven: that forever, in this world, there will be liberals and conservatives who do not know the meaning of or way to crossing the aisle and meeting in the middle,… that the centrist position I hold dear and that stirs my heart is, no doubt, an impossibility on earth, another property of His Kingdom coming.

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***of course, there are exceptions to this generalization... still, even as I recognize this and write this footnote, my mind drifts to talk radio and the plethora of conservative talk hosts and the demise of Al Franken (and radio USA... or whatever it was called): could it be that talk radio was made for thinkers.... even as movies and documentaries and moving images(Michael Moore) work best for feelers??

Thirteen (Books and Authors) Worth Reading

"I guess the fact that I flunked the fourth grade:" my answer to the question a youth "reporter" asked me (on the way to writing an article for their emerging newsletter), "What is something about you that might surprise other people?"

"Actually," I added, "I didn't flunk as much as I repeated the fourth grade." (They stuck with the word "flunk" -- explaining that it was attention grabbing. [Sensational media... even in our church!])

Truth is, I have only recently (in the last 5 to 10 years, when formal education... with grading behind me) grown to love reading and studying and learning. Up to that point, reading was an arduous task... and learning was a matter of regurgitating what the teachers and profs wanted to hear. (By the time I hit A&M, I was a master of regurgitation! Some would say that's what A&M does best!) "Making the Grade" behind me, though, my heart and soul opened up to the adventure of learning... and thebeauty of a good book. (It took some time for me to appreciate reading fiction. But, that's another story.)

Along the way, I found myself engaging the "Reading Lists" of my favorite authors and mentors. Time came when, in various small group settings, I begand to pose the question of favorite books: "If stuck on a desert isle," the question might go, "what 10 books (besides the Bible) would you want to have with you… or recommend to another?" Over time, a stack of responses has grown.

In that time period, though, I've never engaged in the exercise myself. And so, I set about the task the other day of answering my own question. Admittedly, I am not finished. (You'll note, in fact, that, in many cases, I've only been successful in listing my 13 favorite authors... and representative favorite among their works.) Incomplete as it is (and ever evolving... even now, I am thinking of a book or two I forgot!!!), I offer my "Top 13" in no particular order:

The View from a Monastery (Fr. Benet Tvedten)

Long have I been captivated by the Rule of St. Benedict and the community life it inspires. Meaningful, to me, are Fr. Tvedten's reflections on that rule and life--emphasizing that God does not call the perfect to community as much as God perfects the called in and through community. Refreshing, then, is the balance of human and divine in Tvedten and his reflections.


The Purpose-Driven Church (Rick Warren)

"Seek simplicity but learn to distrust it," said Alfred North Whitehead. And, while I have heard and strongly suspect that there is probably much to distrust in Warren and his Purpose-Driven conceptions of discipleship and the church, I frankly find them refreshing for the ways they simplify the discussion of what it is to be a disciple of Christ and a community of Christ. While I will continue to distrust it (and seek to read its critics), PDC is foundational to that paradigm from which I minister and live the Christian life.


The Emotionally Healthy Church (Peter Scazzero)

What Purpose-Driven Church has been for my conceptualization of the local church and its key processes, Emotionally Healthy Church (and its companion, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality) has for my engagement of emotional-relationship dynamics -- both within the church... and in the lives of individual disciples (including myself). It's not that I never heard these concepts before, but that Scazzero brings it all together... and hangs it all under the larger umbrella of maturity and the ancient disciplines and rules of the Faith. Here's an invitation to get "below the waterline" of who we are in Christ and in community. Here's a refreshing marriage of the ancient disciplines and modern concepts of psychology and mental health.


A New Kind of Christian: A Tale of Two Friends on a Spiritual Journey (Brian McLaren)

When it comes to the "Emergent Church," McLaren is my chief interpreter and mentor. Through a device/genre which he calls "philosophical dialogue," "New Kind of Christian" (and its partner in a trilogy) seeks to unpack the dimensions and content of an emerging Faith and Church through a narrative which houses a series of vital and rich dialogues. The storyline is okay. The dialogues are rich. And the faith they hint at are exhilarating! (And that's not to mention the appeal both of the story and its author: of a pastor, like myself, nearly burned out on the traditional way of doing Church and who catches new wind and energy with a glimpse of the Ancient Faith and a timeless Gospel being transposed (without compromise) for a post-Christiandom/post-Modern world.


The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)

While I have long held up Michener and Uris as the kings of historical fiction, I must admit that a re-reading of some of their [Jewish-Arab] works has me strongly suspicious of very blatant biases and prejudices they bring to their work. While Follett may have his own biases, they aren't readily apparent. Here's a real blend of epic storytelling, fantastic character development, and history. It's a joyful and fun to study and learn about the past when the story is so engaging!


The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)

Before you see the movie, please read the book! An engaging and compelling story of redemption wrought in a, at once, strong yet broken community.



The Tolkien Reader (J.R.R. Tolkien)

Of course, I have to have Tolkien! (Lord of the Rings is epic myth at its best. But, then, it's so long and laborious!) More to my fancy is "Leaf by Niggle" in this Reader... A powerful parable of what's real... and our pursuit of it.


The Jesus I Never Knew (Philip Yancey)

What Lewis was for the mid-20th Century, Yancey is for the early 21st. While I especially appreciate his many ways of dancing with the issue of God vis-à-vis pain and suffering, his "Jesus I Never Knew" is my decided favorite: move aside, Fannel Board Lady (from preschool Sunday School days)... here's a picture of Christ and the Gospel which is real and "round" and challenging and refreshing.


Glittering Images (Susan Howatch)

Along with Lewis and Tolkien, Howatch has helped me to wake up to the value of "fiction." (Used to be, for me, that if it wasn't non-fiction, it wasn't worth engaging.) Glittering, commended to me by a read of Scazzero's Emotionally Healthy Church, is a powerful psycho-drama that helped me to flesh out much of my own woundedness... and need to put up the right image in ministry.


The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer to the Heart of God (John Eldredge)

Perhaps the most formative book in my life (outside the Bible)! Admittedly, there are snags (as when Eldredge seems to overly depend on Dante for some of his understandings of the Biblical narrative). Still, this book, more than any other helped the Faith to jump from left brain to right -- from being a mental/academic construct to being a matter of the heart and experience.


The Great Divorce (C.S. Lewis)

Lewis (like Nouwen and Yancey) is such a mentor to me. So many others I'd recommend from his writings: Mere Christianity, Narnia,... The Great Divorce captivated me, though, for the ways it invited me to ponder the utter realness of heaven and the drabness of hell. Very intriguing to think that God may not send us to hell as much as we might choose it (for the ways it's too uncomfortable to engage the realness of Heaven)! Like all of Lewis' works, it puts a fresh and invigorating spin on ancient tenets of the Faith -- making Orthodoxy contemporary and relevant.


The Way of the Heart: Desert Spirituality and Contemporary Ministry (Henri Nouwen)

Among my favorites of Nouwen's (up there with Adam... and his various diaries). Beautiful and meaningful attempt to bridge the wisdom of the Ancient Desert Fathers/Mothers with our contemporary culture... and ministry. So condensed, it demands multiple, slow readings.


Same Kind Of Different As Me (Ron Hall & Denver Moore)

Eclipses, for me, Tuesdays with Morrie (from my Top Ten): not only is it a compelling story of one who dies with triumphant dignity, but it's equally a most awesome testimony of reconciliation and the joy (and risk) of getting out of one's comfort zone!

Contemporary vs Traditional

It doesn't take much time for folks to know that a fundamental part of who I am is maintaining "necessary tensions." My life is full of them. "Jesus Christ," in fact, is the epitome of tensions: Jesus the Human co-mingled (without change, confusion, division or change [as one of the old creeds put it])... co-mingled with the Divine Christ. Sorry, getting a little carried away here...

Gary Thomas' "Authentic Faith" and his chapter on the essential place of mourning in our lives and spiritual formation had me reading about a fundamental flaw in a whole lot, if not all, of the Contemporary Worship cultures/venues I have encountered and worked with:

...the modern nondenominational Protestant church all to often keeps every service deliberately upbeat and positive. Even though somber issues may be addressed, pastors often feel obligated to wrap everything up at the end so that the service ends up in an uplifting way. This lightheartedness is not an accurate reflection of life... (p.151)

Well might he have said the same thing about the Protestant Contemporary services I have attended--and not just in nondenominational settings: there is a premium in such settings on feeding a consumeristic crowd with what they want and need to hear... and that is most often "feeling good." A balance must be struck where heart and emotion are wed to mind and some sense of somberness before the Holy (and our fallenness). The Ancient Faith begs to be heard and to assert itself at points beyond praising God and helping us to feel good.

Of course, there is a tension here. Just as the adolescent** Contemporary spirit needs to be bridled to see a more serious and demanding world and faith, the seated (and more crusty?**) Traditional crowd needs to remember and affirm that the Faith is living and dynamic--like an organism. It can not and should not (and really, will not) be contained in narrow expressions or channels. Wesley, whom Traditionists most cling to in a Methodist setting, was an innovator and "contemporary" in his time: moving worship beyond the sanctuary to the mouth of cold mines, empolying contemporary tunes in the articulation of an ancient faith and theology,...

"Oh to join the two so long divided: knowledge and vital piety": so wrote Wesley. For our immediate purposes in worship, well might we say: "oh, to join the two so long divided: adolescent enthusiasm and innovation... and a sensitivity to and reverance for the enduring and timeless [even if it does not always feel good... or serve my needs].

Yes, there are too many "Traditionals" who need to remember that Wesley was Contemporary... and too many "Contemporaries" who need to remember there was a Wesley.

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**Mind you, words like adolescent and "crusty" (and other such connotations in this post) only refer to personalities and positions at the edge and extremes. There are plenty of Contemporaries and Traditionals "in the middle" who see the value of the other side... and strive strive to hold it all together (in creative tension). There are enough, though, at the extremes for me to still advance these words to the general "encampments."

"St. Benedict Speaks: Resident Aliens"

The Rule of St. Benedict has long held my heart and mind. Like the Gospel from which it emanates, it declares timeless principles so relevant to our age.

A few years ago, I began writing a book -- a Protestant pastor's attempt to practically transpose the Rule and its wisdom for my parish. (It's one of those things in progress--simmering on the back burner, crocking in the pot.)

Perhaps you'll overhear something worthwhile from this ancient path of wisdom as I share with you from my emerging essay:

It’s a question I’ll leave to academia: the comparisons and contrasts between Benedict’s times and ours.

It’s not that there isn’t room for such a discussion. There’s animosity at (and within) the borders. An abundance of competing philosophies vie for our devotion. The Church has its share of glaring shortcomings which converge --inviting too many to (legitimately) question the Gospel and its relevance: too many spectating worshippers, too many “shopkeeping” pastors, syncretism and relativism threaten to sweep Orthodoxy away, “functional atheism” abounds whereby creed and deed become two separate things. An “Empire” wanes. “Civilization” (at least as it is known) seems endangered. Christians, as if jolted from a nap, struggle to define themselves in a place and time they do not remember.

Yes, the comparisons are there—as are the contrasts. But, they should not and will not consume us here. Our real need is affirming and embracing the practical handles for faithfulness and effectiveness which Benedict and his Rule offers us--as disciples, as communities, as pastors.

But, while a depth analysis of the times may be too impractical, there can be no taking away from Benedict’s conception of the times and the relevance of that conception to ministry now... and at all times.

"Society was regarded… as a shipwreck from which each single individual person had to swim for his other life. They were the ones who believed that to let oneself drift along passively, accepting the tenets and values of what they knew as society was purely and simply a disaster. They knew they were helpless to do any good for others as long as they floundered about in the wreckage. But once they got a foothold on solid ground, things were different. Then they had not only the power but even the obligation to pull the whole world to safety after them."

While Nouwen and Merton were referring to the early desert fathers, these words could just as well have been spoken of Benedict and his followers (who surely drew inspiration from these Spirits).

Consider the rich imagery which serves as a backdrop to his Rule – imagery which serves to portray our pilgrim existence in this world and the purpose of life in community:
• needing to wake up and get up;
• seeking a place in the Lord’s “tent” (reminiscent, perhaps, of the tabernacle… in a hostile wilderness… in the Exodus journey… halfway between slavery and promised land?);
• establishing a school for the Lord’s service”;
• preparing “heart and bodies for the battle” at hand.

Admittedly, it might be a case of “eisegesis” on my part (the bane of every preacher whereby we are tempted to read into a text what we want to see or hear), but, for me, there is ultimately the overwhelming and overarching image--however latent and informal--in the Rule: of the monastery as a fortress set amidst and against a hostile world. Moreover, Benedict’s is a world outlook which includes fundamentals like hell and judgment. Altogether, it invites us to remember and affirm that we are “resident aliens”--“in the world, but not of the world.”

For all the ways and reasons we do not need to bog down in an analysis of Benedict’s times vis-à-vis ours, this may be a fundamental (and timeless) truth we need to reclaim… on the way to a reclamation of our discipleship, our community, and our pastoring: namely, that, as much as we’d like to pretend or hope otherwise, there will forever be an animosity between this World and the life of Faith and the Spirit and, because of that, there will forever be ways in which Christ and discipleship and ministry must stand in opposition to this World and its ways and its values. Ministry which tries to make friends with this world and its ways is diametrically opposed to ministry which sees this world and its ways as delusional and fallen, in need of redemption. Ministry which affirms that Hell and judgment are real is diametrically opposed to ministry which believes that any old life will do, any old way will get you there.

To be sure, we need to be careful here. Being at odds with this world does not mean being at odds with “people” per se – as Benedict’s emphasis on hospitality surely makes clear. Affirming “Hell” and “Judgment” does not give us license to scream fire and brimstone. To be sure, while our argument is with the World, the real “battle” is within. (Otherwise, why would Benedict’s first words call us to “listen carefully”… with the “ear of our hearts”?) Yes, caution is in order. Things are not as easy as they appear.

Still, be advised, Church: you can’t have it both ways! On these things, Benedict was more than clear—and clear from the outset: society is a shipwreck, ministry is lifesaving, Jesus is Lord, life is a battle, the monastery is a stronghold. Such is the ground of his Rule… and its vitality through the ages. Such is the ground of vital congregations and faithful disciples throughout the ages. Until and unless we, as disciples and as congregations, recover a sense of our unique mission, its urgency, and the passion for discipline that it demands, our work—as, indeed our lives--will have no more meaning than the proverbial rearrangement of “deck chairs on the sinking Titanic.”

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