Carolyn Anderson's excellent New Wineskins article on the spiritual formation of children prompted me to post a column I wrote for the August 23, 2002 edition of the Abilene Reporter-News:
Our small group at church has been studying Christian parenting every Wednesday evening since September and recently came to the conclusion that we don’t tell our kids often enough just how proud of them we are and why.
So a couple of weeks ago, six pairs of parents gathered in our living room to tell our 15 children — ages 2 through 9 — exactly that, a “parental blessing,” if you will.
I really didn’t know what to expect since the gathering was the brainchild of our small group leader, and he had planned the itinerary. And I confess I had my doubts about having that many little ones tearing through the house. Some of them are real tornadoes — and two of them are mine!
Together we gobbled down a potluck dinner in which every family had contributed ingredients for curry chicken. The kids played together for a while, as they always do. Then we collected everyone.
Each dad read a short scripture that has special meaning for him when he’s interacting with his kids. Every reading was different, and each one gave a little more insight about that family.
Because our two children are adopted, I read from Romans 8 and told them that not only is the whole creation on the edge of its seat waiting for God’s adoption, but that I’m sure he is, too — because I know how their mom and I felt, waiting for those two calls from our adoption agency.
Each parent, in turn, told each of his or her children one or two reasons we are so proud of them, right there in front of their friends and family. Every kid beamed when hugged and kissed and given a simple white ribbon that said “#1 Kid.” The reasons were as varied as the kids’ natures and interests. It took a while — 45 minutes or more.
There was a little squirming, but for the most part the children were riveted by the events.
Parents expressed pride in athletic and academic achievement … in hobbies and interests … in sweet natures and curiosity and compassion.
The youngest one — a precious little blond-curled toddler — gave her daddy extra pride “because she’s always singing happy little songs about Jesus.” When she heard that, she giggled and did a little dance of joy.
We briefly thanked God for them and prayed his blessing on them throughout their whole lives. Then we let them go play together again. (While romping, one 7-year-old girl fell on our sidewalk and knocked out two loose front teeth. We all scoured the walk for the missing teeth so the Tooth Fairy wouldn’t pass her by.)
Nobody complained that it took too long. None of the kids asked how they could all be “#1 Kid.”
Maybe curry chicken isn’t your taste. Maybe you could do without the prayer and the scripture. Maybe six or seven families and 15 kids are too many for your house.
But I can’t help but think that every family would feel as uplifted as we did, just by getting together with a few dear friends and having a little parental pride party for the kids.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Cross-Shattered Christ: Reflection on "The Seventh (and Final) Word"
"Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Luke 23:46).
Stanley Hauerwas ends his 102-page book with this invitation: "So come, draw near, fear not, and behold the mystery and wonder of Jesus's cross."
What leads up to this point is a final reflection on the seventh word of Jesus. The final prayer of Jesus, like much of his life, is a direct conversation with the Father. "My Father" is one of Jesus' most-uttered phrases in John. Now, here on the cross Jesus again speaks to his Father and gives the ultimate trusting word. My life is in your hands.
Only through Jesus' laying his life in the hands of the Father can we do so. We join Jesus in his death and resurrection because Jesus at this moment trusted the Father enough to lay down his life and face hell and mysteries of the world he entered on Friday and Saturday that we'll never fully understand on this side of eternity.
Hauerwas points out that since Jesus has done this great work, he can say in Revelation 1:17-18, "Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades."
The person of Christ (that he took on our humanity) and the work of Christ (that he gave his life willingly to the Father) allow us to join him in his life, death, resurrection. "By giving himself up and commending his spirit to the Father," Hauerwas says, "Jesus invites and enables us to give ourselves up and become 'united with him in a death like his' (Romans 6:5)."
Jesus died so that we join with Israel, with the church worldwide in the hope that death is not the final word. Hauerwas quotes Christopher Seitz, who says God has become for us death, destroying "whatever gap we might have suspected existed between God and his complete disclosure of himself to us."
Thank you for joining me in these seven reflections on Stanley Hauerwas's Cross-Shattered Christ:Mediations on the Seven Last Words.--Greg Taylor
Stanley Hauerwas ends his 102-page book with this invitation: "So come, draw near, fear not, and behold the mystery and wonder of Jesus's cross." What leads up to this point is a final reflection on the seventh word of Jesus. The final prayer of Jesus, like much of his life, is a direct conversation with the Father. "My Father" is one of Jesus' most-uttered phrases in John. Now, here on the cross Jesus again speaks to his Father and gives the ultimate trusting word. My life is in your hands.
Only through Jesus' laying his life in the hands of the Father can we do so. We join Jesus in his death and resurrection because Jesus at this moment trusted the Father enough to lay down his life and face hell and mysteries of the world he entered on Friday and Saturday that we'll never fully understand on this side of eternity.
Hauerwas points out that since Jesus has done this great work, he can say in Revelation 1:17-18, "Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades."
The person of Christ (that he took on our humanity) and the work of Christ (that he gave his life willingly to the Father) allow us to join him in his life, death, resurrection. "By giving himself up and commending his spirit to the Father," Hauerwas says, "Jesus invites and enables us to give ourselves up and become 'united with him in a death like his' (Romans 6:5)."
Jesus died so that we join with Israel, with the church worldwide in the hope that death is not the final word. Hauerwas quotes Christopher Seitz, who says God has become for us death, destroying "whatever gap we might have suspected existed between God and his complete disclosure of himself to us."
Thank you for joining me in these seven reflections on Stanley Hauerwas's Cross-Shattered Christ:Mediations on the Seven Last Words.--Greg Taylor
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Eleven-year-olds talking about denominations
Ashley, our eleven-year-old, had a sleepover, and the next morning the girls were talking around the island in the kitchen.
Ashley to her friend Kira: "Is your church Baptist or a Christ Church, or what?"
Kira: "It's not a denomination." Kira attends a community church.
In the other room, I had been talking to the mom of Heidi, another friend of Ashley's, and they attend a different church, called Community Bible Church. We walked into the kitchen and the girls got quiet, as eleven-year-olds often do when adults enter, like the animals stop talking when people appear in the old Far Side cartoons.
Me: "Talking religion in here, girls? Do you know what denomination means?"
The eleven-year-olds all shrugged or nodded their heads no.
Me: "It basically means a particular church group or organization of churches. All three of you girls attend non-denominational churches." I could tell I'd lost them at hello.
Heidi's mom: "The Church of Christ is a denomination."
I just smiled and asked if the girls had everything before they left. When Kira's mother arrived, I told her about the conversation. She looked puzzled. She had no idea the church of Christ had been a "non-denominational" unity movement.
Ashley is a fifth generation member of the non-denominational churches of Christ. Kira and Heidi both attend community churches. Who flipped the script on the Restoration Movement? The non-denominational unity and Christ-centered, Bible-reading, and Christian-name-wearing legacy of restoration lives on in tens of thousands of churches and many varieties worldwide.
But many people in these churches--anecdotally, at least these two families--are not aware of this legacy in the churches of Christ.
Ashley to her friend Kira: "Is your church Baptist or a Christ Church, or what?"
Kira: "It's not a denomination." Kira attends a community church.
In the other room, I had been talking to the mom of Heidi, another friend of Ashley's, and they attend a different church, called Community Bible Church. We walked into the kitchen and the girls got quiet, as eleven-year-olds often do when adults enter, like the animals stop talking when people appear in the old Far Side cartoons.
Me: "Talking religion in here, girls? Do you know what denomination means?"
The eleven-year-olds all shrugged or nodded their heads no.
Me: "It basically means a particular church group or organization of churches. All three of you girls attend non-denominational churches." I could tell I'd lost them at hello.
Heidi's mom: "The Church of Christ is a denomination."
I just smiled and asked if the girls had everything before they left. When Kira's mother arrived, I told her about the conversation. She looked puzzled. She had no idea the church of Christ had been a "non-denominational" unity movement.
Ashley is a fifth generation member of the non-denominational churches of Christ. Kira and Heidi both attend community churches. Who flipped the script on the Restoration Movement? The non-denominational unity and Christ-centered, Bible-reading, and Christian-name-wearing legacy of restoration lives on in tens of thousands of churches and many varieties worldwide.
But many people in these churches--anecdotally, at least these two families--are not aware of this legacy in the churches of Christ.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Cross-Shattered Christ: Reflection on "The Sixth Word"
It is finished (John 19:30)
A quarter of the world’s population witnessed the funeral of the pope . . . I woke at 3 a.m. to watch with them . . . the pope’s last words may have been, “be not afraid” . . . when Terry Schiavo died, we heard no audible last words . . . famous last words . . . Jesus’ last words spoken on the cross as recorded in John were, “It is finished.” Other Gospels, Jesus says, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
A shocking realization came over me recently when I realized something simple yet profound: the seven words of Christ on the cross were prayers.
For a few minutes this morning, I want us to reflect on the word of Christ, “It is finished.”
First, read the passage with the prayer, “Open not just my ears but all my senses this morning to your word.”
John 19:28-30
Was Christ talking about the end of his suffering that day? Like a man competing in an Ironman race? Or was he talking about something more cosmic and apocalyptic? Was this that last gasp that Matthew and Mark record, that great cry before he died, and what does it mean? Was it merely a famous last word or does it mean something life-shaping to us?
In Uganda when something was used up, they said "it is finished." If you ordered chicken at a restaurant and the supplier hadn’t shown up that day on his bicycle with five live chickens tied to the back of his bicycle because he had to attend a funeral for his neighbor who died with AIDS, the waiter would come back and say, “the chicken, it is finished.” He might offer the aforementioned explanation if pressed.
So when my friend Oneka, who has HIV, hears the words of Jesus on the cross in English at least, he hears that life has been totally emptied. Nothing left. Africans, as do American Indians, often describe or name things by their actions. Dances with Wolves. In Africa, AIDS is often called SLIMs, a reference to the emaciated state of the dying. What would be the last words of the dying in Africa? Perhaps, "Life is emptied."
Prayer, said one saint, should be uttered as if you will die when the prayer is over. It is finished.
This word, one of seven of the classic words of Jesus from the cross, is simply put, a prayer. We often consider the prayer of Jesus in Gethsemane as his last prayer . . . he prayed in the greatest crisis, in terror and pain: Father forgive them. I thirst. Behold your mother. Behold your son. Into your hands I commit my spirit. It is finished.
What if we prayed this ourselves today? Lord and Father, the work you have done is finished. Now, send your servant into the world to proclaim it. What if our prayers were more urgently about the mission of God and less about our missing life or some privilege we think we deserve? As if life itself were teetering on the razor’s edge? Would we then be praying closer to the kingdom prayers than those “please God” prayers and “give me” prayers?
What if we prayed, “I am finished.” Religion is finished. Racism is finished. Subjugation of women is finished. My selfishness is finished. Sin is finished. Suffering is finished. Is it over? No, but it’s finished, emptied of its power by Christ on the cross who finished the work the Father sent him to do. It is finished.
Draw near to the cross and hear his words. The work that Christ came to do is finished, but as Hauerwas says, it's not over. It continues in us as the finished people of God. Creation’s end and consummation is Christ himself becoming human and suffering in every way as man. Only through him do we become “the finished,” the body of Christ.
Cancer can not undo us, neither can disappointment or fear. A child who strays cannot bring our faith to ruin. It is finished. Christ will draw all men and he will draw your child who seems to be running away. Church splits cannot undo us. It is finished. We are the done. Divorce and hate-filled emails and phone calls from the ex-spouse cannot unravel us. We are the finished, the body of Christ. We may feel undone at times, unfinished and certainly God is not through with us. It’s finished but it is not over . . .
It’s not over and we are witnesses to the beauty and power of the coming kingdom that we see with finished eyes by faith. Marantha, come Lord Jesus. It is finished. It is finished. It is finished.
A quarter of the world’s population witnessed the funeral of the pope . . . I woke at 3 a.m. to watch with them . . . the pope’s last words may have been, “be not afraid” . . . when Terry Schiavo died, we heard no audible last words . . . famous last words . . . Jesus’ last words spoken on the cross as recorded in John were, “It is finished.” Other Gospels, Jesus says, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
A shocking realization came over me recently when I realized something simple yet profound: the seven words of Christ on the cross were prayers.
For a few minutes this morning, I want us to reflect on the word of Christ, “It is finished.”
First, read the passage with the prayer, “Open not just my ears but all my senses this morning to your word.”
John 19:28-30
Jesus, seeing that everything had been completed so that the Scripture record might also be complete, then said, "I'm thirsty."The human spirit yearns to finish, to be finished, to be done.
[29] A jug of sour wine was standing by. Someone put a sponge soaked with the wine on a javelin and lifted it to his mouth. [30] After he took the wine, Jesus said, "It's done . . . complete." Bowing his head, he offered up his spirit.
Was Christ talking about the end of his suffering that day? Like a man competing in an Ironman race? Or was he talking about something more cosmic and apocalyptic? Was this that last gasp that Matthew and Mark record, that great cry before he died, and what does it mean? Was it merely a famous last word or does it mean something life-shaping to us?
In Uganda when something was used up, they said "it is finished." If you ordered chicken at a restaurant and the supplier hadn’t shown up that day on his bicycle with five live chickens tied to the back of his bicycle because he had to attend a funeral for his neighbor who died with AIDS, the waiter would come back and say, “the chicken, it is finished.” He might offer the aforementioned explanation if pressed.
So when my friend Oneka, who has HIV, hears the words of Jesus on the cross in English at least, he hears that life has been totally emptied. Nothing left. Africans, as do American Indians, often describe or name things by their actions. Dances with Wolves. In Africa, AIDS is often called SLIMs, a reference to the emaciated state of the dying. What would be the last words of the dying in Africa? Perhaps, "Life is emptied."
Prayer, said one saint, should be uttered as if you will die when the prayer is over. It is finished.
This word, one of seven of the classic words of Jesus from the cross, is simply put, a prayer. We often consider the prayer of Jesus in Gethsemane as his last prayer . . . he prayed in the greatest crisis, in terror and pain: Father forgive them. I thirst. Behold your mother. Behold your son. Into your hands I commit my spirit. It is finished.
What if we prayed this ourselves today? Lord and Father, the work you have done is finished. Now, send your servant into the world to proclaim it. What if our prayers were more urgently about the mission of God and less about our missing life or some privilege we think we deserve? As if life itself were teetering on the razor’s edge? Would we then be praying closer to the kingdom prayers than those “please God” prayers and “give me” prayers?
What if we prayed, “I am finished.” Religion is finished. Racism is finished. Subjugation of women is finished. My selfishness is finished. Sin is finished. Suffering is finished. Is it over? No, but it’s finished, emptied of its power by Christ on the cross who finished the work the Father sent him to do. It is finished.
Draw near to the cross and hear his words. The work that Christ came to do is finished, but as Hauerwas says, it's not over. It continues in us as the finished people of God. Creation’s end and consummation is Christ himself becoming human and suffering in every way as man. Only through him do we become “the finished,” the body of Christ.
Cancer can not undo us, neither can disappointment or fear. A child who strays cannot bring our faith to ruin. It is finished. Christ will draw all men and he will draw your child who seems to be running away. Church splits cannot undo us. It is finished. We are the done. Divorce and hate-filled emails and phone calls from the ex-spouse cannot unravel us. We are the finished, the body of Christ. We may feel undone at times, unfinished and certainly God is not through with us. It’s finished but it is not over . . .
It’s not over and we are witnesses to the beauty and power of the coming kingdom that we see with finished eyes by faith. Marantha, come Lord Jesus. It is finished. It is finished. It is finished.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
The Spiritual Formation of a Pope
A lot of folks these days are wondering and looking into how a pope is elected.
I wonder how a pope is made. Reading about John Paul's young life and training and early career as a priest is interesting, and solidifies my impression about his integrity within the culture of the church in which he was reared.
But how does a pope deal with the question of papal infallibility, knowing what goes on in his own heart; what has gone on in the hearts and lives and edicts of his predecessors? Because - and I'm using New Advent's definition linked above - it is the infallibility of doctrinal interpretation that is at the heart of the question.
How does a pope maintain his humility in the face of being regarded as such? How does he shoulder the burden of this infallibility when the papal robes are placed upon him? The implication is that while he may do wrong, he cannot say wrong on the matter of doctrine.
How intensely does he study - both the Bible and his own church's history, for he must conform to both - and prayerfully approach the answer to all of the new questions that arise from tumultuous change in sociology, biology, technology, politics ... even weather? Knowing that whatever he says will be regarded by the better part of a billion people as the very utterance of God?
Does he pray for the guidance of the Holy Spirit in such matters? Do millions of his flock pray with him for it?
Does God grant their petition?
I'm not intentionally trying to cloud the distinction between papal infallibility, revelation and inspiration that Catholics perceive. It's tough, though, because they are integrally related. And they must have a profound impact on the one chosen as pope.
We non-Catholics tend to be skeptical of such a core belief as doctrinal infallibility.
But I also wonder - and it's easy for me to wonder, since I don't have a pulpit - do the ministers and preachers among us feel that same burden when they step up to the lectern or visit a hospital bed or sit in on an elder's meeting? Do they pray constantly that each word they proclaim is the very word of God? Do we, their various flocks, pray with them for the guidance of His Spirit?
As members of a universal priesthood, do we pray for that kind of infallibility for ourselves?
"Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." - Matthew 5:48
I wonder how a pope is made. Reading about John Paul's young life and training and early career as a priest is interesting, and solidifies my impression about his integrity within the culture of the church in which he was reared.
But how does a pope deal with the question of papal infallibility, knowing what goes on in his own heart; what has gone on in the hearts and lives and edicts of his predecessors? Because - and I'm using New Advent's definition linked above - it is the infallibility of doctrinal interpretation that is at the heart of the question.
How does a pope maintain his humility in the face of being regarded as such? How does he shoulder the burden of this infallibility when the papal robes are placed upon him? The implication is that while he may do wrong, he cannot say wrong on the matter of doctrine.
How intensely does he study - both the Bible and his own church's history, for he must conform to both - and prayerfully approach the answer to all of the new questions that arise from tumultuous change in sociology, biology, technology, politics ... even weather? Knowing that whatever he says will be regarded by the better part of a billion people as the very utterance of God?
Does he pray for the guidance of the Holy Spirit in such matters? Do millions of his flock pray with him for it?
Does God grant their petition?
I'm not intentionally trying to cloud the distinction between papal infallibility, revelation and inspiration that Catholics perceive. It's tough, though, because they are integrally related. And they must have a profound impact on the one chosen as pope.
We non-Catholics tend to be skeptical of such a core belief as doctrinal infallibility.
But I also wonder - and it's easy for me to wonder, since I don't have a pulpit - do the ministers and preachers among us feel that same burden when they step up to the lectern or visit a hospital bed or sit in on an elder's meeting? Do they pray constantly that each word they proclaim is the very word of God? Do we, their various flocks, pray with them for the guidance of His Spirit?
As members of a universal priesthood, do we pray for that kind of infallibility for ourselves?
"Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." - Matthew 5:48
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
What place does the pope have in lives of non-Catholics?
What place does the pope have in the lives of non-Catholics?
Though I’ve lived through three papacies, Pope John Paul II has defined what a pope is and does for a billion Catholics and for the rest of the world. He was very conservative on most issues but no other pope had traveled and perhaps few others had advocated for the poor like he did. He traveled to 129 countries. When he visited Africa, many non-Catholics wanted to see him, hear him say, "Do not be afraid."
Pope John Paul II set the tone for how widely a modern pope is expected to travel and bring a message of hope and love for humanity through Jesus Christ. He did not stand down against leaders, from Reagan to Bush, on the call for peace. He is credited for a major role in the fall of communism and the movement in Poland. Yet, he also perpetuated a hard-line role against contraception, even as a protector against HIV, which gravely impacts poor nations in their fight against AIDS. He also remained firm on celibacy and unmarried priesthood, which many believe should change, particularly in light of the sex scandal of the American Catholic Church.
I was not raised to revere or honor the pope. Too much of the priesthood of all believers, calling no one “father” and perhaps influence of democracy had surged through my veins to think much about the pope. I was not even “Protestant,” those who protested against Rome and how they were raising money for the Vatican by charging indulgences for absolution of sin and eternal damnation and other corruption. I came from a “free” church. Free of hierarchy, free to choose (sounds more like economics), free to interpret Scripture (as long as it fit within certain pre-set and unwritten parameters).
Twenty-six years ago, my memory of the choosing of Pope John Paul II was the smoke billowing out of the Vatican near the Sistine Chapel where the Cardinals were meeting for the Conclave. Then, several years into the papacy of John Paul II, I went to Italy and visited several cities, including Rome. The Vatican is one of the most jaw-dropping places in the world. Walking into St. Peter’s Basilica and the amazement of seeing Michelangelo’s Pieta
grows in me still today, eighteen years later. Again, I was pre-disposed to dismiss the extravagance of religious iconography. At the time, I was only nineteen and though taking art appreciation, I was yet to appreciate art as Spiritual, as I am learning to do now. My wife, Jill, also traveled to Italy with Harding University in Florence program. She, however, saw Pope John Paul II.
Yesterday, Jill gathered our children around her scrapbook (she had not pulled it out in years) and showed them the photo she had taken when the pope walked past her in St. Peter’s. Our children want to know why the pope is so important, why all the attention is on his death right now. We talked about how he's the leader of one billion people, their church, and he is in the line of many who have decided important things about what Christians have believed about Jesus and his mission. Yet, we temper it with our own understanding of the priesthood of all believers, the message of Hebrews, the way we are shepherded by loving elders in our lives today. Though we are not "told" what to believe by the pope, his office has still influenced what we believe over the years and I would venture to say, still does. His stands make a difference to many beyond the Catholic faith, in what they come to believe for themselves. Here is the photo Jill took of John Paul II in 1987 in St. Peter's Basilica.
A few years ago I took a course that centered on Historical Theology. That means the study of doctrines as they have emerged through Christian history. For the first time, I considered the importance of theological decisions, good and bad, of important leaders in the church over the last two millennia. For the first time I came to grips with the idea that perhaps the Catholic Church’s concern for accurately and theologically interpreting Scripture was at its heart, like mine, but lived out and structured much differently. One central role of the pope through the ages has been to safeguard doctrine.
The Catholic Church and the Church Fathers developed much of the understanding that many of us take for granted today: for example, the doctrine of Jesus Christ, that he is God and man, that he was not created but that all was created through him. Yes, Scripture on who Jesus may seem clear to us today, but remember that Scripture was not widely distributed and translated into many languages until after the Reformation. Many centuries of debate, martyrdom and struggle came over this belief about the Christ.
This is not a thesis in support of hierarchy or non-Catholics following the pope, but it is an exercise in thinking through how the church through the ages, and today, has influenced and continues to influence us, both negatively and positively.
Though I’ve lived through three papacies, Pope John Paul II has defined what a pope is and does for a billion Catholics and for the rest of the world. He was very conservative on most issues but no other pope had traveled and perhaps few others had advocated for the poor like he did. He traveled to 129 countries. When he visited Africa, many non-Catholics wanted to see him, hear him say, "Do not be afraid."
Pope John Paul II set the tone for how widely a modern pope is expected to travel and bring a message of hope and love for humanity through Jesus Christ. He did not stand down against leaders, from Reagan to Bush, on the call for peace. He is credited for a major role in the fall of communism and the movement in Poland. Yet, he also perpetuated a hard-line role against contraception, even as a protector against HIV, which gravely impacts poor nations in their fight against AIDS. He also remained firm on celibacy and unmarried priesthood, which many believe should change, particularly in light of the sex scandal of the American Catholic Church.
I was not raised to revere or honor the pope. Too much of the priesthood of all believers, calling no one “father” and perhaps influence of democracy had surged through my veins to think much about the pope. I was not even “Protestant,” those who protested against Rome and how they were raising money for the Vatican by charging indulgences for absolution of sin and eternal damnation and other corruption. I came from a “free” church. Free of hierarchy, free to choose (sounds more like economics), free to interpret Scripture (as long as it fit within certain pre-set and unwritten parameters).
Twenty-six years ago, my memory of the choosing of Pope John Paul II was the smoke billowing out of the Vatican near the Sistine Chapel where the Cardinals were meeting for the Conclave. Then, several years into the papacy of John Paul II, I went to Italy and visited several cities, including Rome. The Vatican is one of the most jaw-dropping places in the world. Walking into St. Peter’s Basilica and the amazement of seeing Michelangelo’s Pieta
grows in me still today, eighteen years later. Again, I was pre-disposed to dismiss the extravagance of religious iconography. At the time, I was only nineteen and though taking art appreciation, I was yet to appreciate art as Spiritual, as I am learning to do now. My wife, Jill, also traveled to Italy with Harding University in Florence program. She, however, saw Pope John Paul II.Yesterday, Jill gathered our children around her scrapbook (she had not pulled it out in years) and showed them the photo she had taken when the pope walked past her in St. Peter’s. Our children want to know why the pope is so important, why all the attention is on his death right now. We talked about how he's the leader of one billion people, their church, and he is in the line of many who have decided important things about what Christians have believed about Jesus and his mission. Yet, we temper it with our own understanding of the priesthood of all believers, the message of Hebrews, the way we are shepherded by loving elders in our lives today. Though we are not "told" what to believe by the pope, his office has still influenced what we believe over the years and I would venture to say, still does. His stands make a difference to many beyond the Catholic faith, in what they come to believe for themselves. Here is the photo Jill took of John Paul II in 1987 in St. Peter's Basilica.
A few years ago I took a course that centered on Historical Theology. That means the study of doctrines as they have emerged through Christian history. For the first time, I considered the importance of theological decisions, good and bad, of important leaders in the church over the last two millennia. For the first time I came to grips with the idea that perhaps the Catholic Church’s concern for accurately and theologically interpreting Scripture was at its heart, like mine, but lived out and structured much differently. One central role of the pope through the ages has been to safeguard doctrine.
The Catholic Church and the Church Fathers developed much of the understanding that many of us take for granted today: for example, the doctrine of Jesus Christ, that he is God and man, that he was not created but that all was created through him. Yes, Scripture on who Jesus may seem clear to us today, but remember that Scripture was not widely distributed and translated into many languages until after the Reformation. Many centuries of debate, martyrdom and struggle came over this belief about the Christ.
This is not a thesis in support of hierarchy or non-Catholics following the pope, but it is an exercise in thinking through how the church through the ages, and today, has influenced and continues to influence us, both negatively and positively.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Living God's Love - Conversation Six Point Five
To make the numbers again correspond with chapters of Living God's Love, I'm calling this one six point five. This is for chapter six, "Being with our Beloved."
We are not living a more complicated day than our forebears who lived through the Civil War, nor are we more busy than those in the sixties who were fighting for civil rights. We don't have less time than Alexander Campbell or Martin Luther, one of which or both, I can't remember said they had so much to do in the day that they couldn't help but spend only a few hours in prayer.
So this chapter is for us. Those of us who need to slow down, be silent, still and not only know God is but that we are not God. To be still this morning in my bedroom and say, "God, I am your son and you are my Father" shapes me. Being still and silent and "wasting time" with God reminds me, as Lavender and Holloway say, that God is in charge of the universe and I am not.
There's something of the life in God that calls for fruitfulness, but I'm not so sure fruitfulness in the terms Jesus speaks of in John 15, the vine, is the same as productivity defined by a market-driven society.
This chapter also speaks of several ways to pray silently, breath prayers, and examen. By way of explanation of one of these, I want to offer here an article that Jackie L. Halstead wrote for Wineskins in Summer 2003. It's worth reprinting here in our blog for those who missed it. In fact, our archive is full of good content for people who missed it the first go round. If you are not a subscriber, you're missing out on a lot of good articles. The $19.95 each year is what you spend on Starbucks in a month or probably less than what you spend on cable for a month! Subscribe
Examen
by Jackie L. Halstead
For one raised in a conservative church, I have struggled with being grateful to God. I was told that I must be thankful for my blessings and to be careful to live right or I would not go to heaven. This perception continued through my adult years when I became aware of the magnitude of God’s grace. The reward is not just in the great by and by but is today and every day. With this realization, gratitude made more sense. My focus shifted from what I have to do to be saved to what God does for me and how I can give Him glory because of who He is and because of the way He cares for me.
Gratitude does not always come easily, however. It must be deliberate and attended to on a continual basis. How does one attain this focus? Some are blessed with the cup-is-half-full mentality, but for the rest of the world, there are practices with which we can develop a grateful heart. One such practice is called Examen. It was brought to Christendom by an ex-soldier named Ignatius. He had done and seen everything in this world and was weary of life. When he was experiencing his darkest moment, he made a decision to become a soldier for the Lord. His life was changed so dramatically that he dedicated himself to service to God and spent his life demonstrating and teaching others to demonstrate how grateful they were to God. Examen became a regular practice of the Catholic church, and in the order of Jesuit priests in particular. They used this exercise of gratitude in their daily routine and prayers and in time taught it to their parishioners. One way to practice Examen involves asking oneself two simple questions:
“For what am I most grateful?”
“For what I am least grateful?”
The first question elicits what Ignatius referred to as consolations and the second, desolations. These questions can be asked on a regular basis, alone or with others. As one keeps track of the consolations and desolations over time, patterns begin to emerge. We are able to identify acts/situations that bring us life, through looking at the consolations. As we pour our energies into these happenings, we experience the abundance of life God has promised. This promotes a grateful heart. When focusing on desolations, we see patterns that take life from us. This shows us areas we either need to avoid or address and change.
Examen can be practiced in a multitude of ways. The most simple way is to identify consolations and desolations each day. It is best to keep these short and focus on the highlights. The form of the questions can vary. In addition to the questions regarding most and least grateful, one can ask, “At what times did I feel most loved?” and “When did I feel least loved?” Another is “How was I most blessed today?” and “What was a struggle for me today?” The important factor is that the questions help you tune in to what gives you life and what takes life from you, and to recognize God’s involvement in that process. For example, as I kept track of my consolations and desolations, a pattern that emerged was that I need times of stillness. At those times I am able to slow my busy pace and be aware of God’s presence. It is difficult to set aside times for this stillness with my Type A personality.
I know, however, that these times give me life. I also realized that I am least grateful for those times when I have taken on more than I can handle. I do not feel I am giving anything my full attention. As I became aware of this, I realized that I need to focus on limiting my activities. In other words, I learned that even though there are so many wonderful opportunities for ministry, if I try to do everything, I am drained of life. I do not feel grateful to God, instead I feel overwhelmed. Therefore as I follow these insights I become more aware of God’s blessing and the manner in which He can best use me. I am doing the things that bring me life and feel a thankfulness and gratitude toward God. To put it simply, if something brings you life, do more of it. If it takes life away from you, do less of it.
Another way to practice Examen is with others. It can be experienced as a family. When we began the process, our daughters were ages three and seven years. At our evening meal, we shared our best and worst for the day. This not only helped us think of and share how we were grateful, but also facilitated discussion of problems, of which we as parents were at times unaware. It also helped us as parents share the ways God had blessed us and let the girls see that we had struggles even as adults. The sharing of consolations and desolations is now more sporadic, and it typically occurs when I say good night. The topics have become more complex—as they are in high school and middle school—but it still serves to help our family emphasize how God brings life and how He walks with us when we struggle.
Examen can be used in a myriad of ways in one’s profession or with friends. I train marriage and family therapists. Part of my role is supervision of interns as they learn to counsel. At our weekly meeting we share our consolations and desolations as part of supervision. The semester always begins with some hesitancy as they share, but by the end of the fifteen weeks, the group has become close. I give them the list of consolations and desolations that I have recorded each week to help them identify things that bring them life and challenges that drain life from them.
Finally, Examen can be used to help in decision-making. It helped me in my decision to go into academia. I recognized that teaching adults was a consolation for me. I felt energized and full of life when I had an opportunity to lead a discussion or teach a class. This understanding was useful as I made the decision to go back to school in order to teach at the college level.
Examen emphasizes the way God blesses us and how He allows us to struggle. As we all know, God has not promised us a life without challenges. However, He uses these as opportunities to bring glory to himself and refine us for a closer walk with him. When we have a grateful heart despite the trials of life, like Paul we can say, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances” (Philippians 4:11, NIV).
For more on Examen see the book, Sleeping with Bread: Holding on to What Gives Us Life, by Matt Linn, Dennis Linn, and Sheila Fabricant-Linn.
We are not living a more complicated day than our forebears who lived through the Civil War, nor are we more busy than those in the sixties who were fighting for civil rights. We don't have less time than Alexander Campbell or Martin Luther, one of which or both, I can't remember said they had so much to do in the day that they couldn't help but spend only a few hours in prayer.
So this chapter is for us. Those of us who need to slow down, be silent, still and not only know God is but that we are not God. To be still this morning in my bedroom and say, "God, I am your son and you are my Father" shapes me. Being still and silent and "wasting time" with God reminds me, as Lavender and Holloway say, that God is in charge of the universe and I am not.
There's something of the life in God that calls for fruitfulness, but I'm not so sure fruitfulness in the terms Jesus speaks of in John 15, the vine, is the same as productivity defined by a market-driven society.
This chapter also speaks of several ways to pray silently, breath prayers, and examen. By way of explanation of one of these, I want to offer here an article that Jackie L. Halstead wrote for Wineskins in Summer 2003. It's worth reprinting here in our blog for those who missed it. In fact, our archive is full of good content for people who missed it the first go round. If you are not a subscriber, you're missing out on a lot of good articles. The $19.95 each year is what you spend on Starbucks in a month or probably less than what you spend on cable for a month! Subscribe
Examen
by Jackie L. Halstead
For one raised in a conservative church, I have struggled with being grateful to God. I was told that I must be thankful for my blessings and to be careful to live right or I would not go to heaven. This perception continued through my adult years when I became aware of the magnitude of God’s grace. The reward is not just in the great by and by but is today and every day. With this realization, gratitude made more sense. My focus shifted from what I have to do to be saved to what God does for me and how I can give Him glory because of who He is and because of the way He cares for me.
Gratitude does not always come easily, however. It must be deliberate and attended to on a continual basis. How does one attain this focus? Some are blessed with the cup-is-half-full mentality, but for the rest of the world, there are practices with which we can develop a grateful heart. One such practice is called Examen. It was brought to Christendom by an ex-soldier named Ignatius. He had done and seen everything in this world and was weary of life. When he was experiencing his darkest moment, he made a decision to become a soldier for the Lord. His life was changed so dramatically that he dedicated himself to service to God and spent his life demonstrating and teaching others to demonstrate how grateful they were to God. Examen became a regular practice of the Catholic church, and in the order of Jesuit priests in particular. They used this exercise of gratitude in their daily routine and prayers and in time taught it to their parishioners. One way to practice Examen involves asking oneself two simple questions:
“For what am I most grateful?”
“For what I am least grateful?”
The first question elicits what Ignatius referred to as consolations and the second, desolations. These questions can be asked on a regular basis, alone or with others. As one keeps track of the consolations and desolations over time, patterns begin to emerge. We are able to identify acts/situations that bring us life, through looking at the consolations. As we pour our energies into these happenings, we experience the abundance of life God has promised. This promotes a grateful heart. When focusing on desolations, we see patterns that take life from us. This shows us areas we either need to avoid or address and change.
Examen can be practiced in a multitude of ways. The most simple way is to identify consolations and desolations each day. It is best to keep these short and focus on the highlights. The form of the questions can vary. In addition to the questions regarding most and least grateful, one can ask, “At what times did I feel most loved?” and “When did I feel least loved?” Another is “How was I most blessed today?” and “What was a struggle for me today?” The important factor is that the questions help you tune in to what gives you life and what takes life from you, and to recognize God’s involvement in that process. For example, as I kept track of my consolations and desolations, a pattern that emerged was that I need times of stillness. At those times I am able to slow my busy pace and be aware of God’s presence. It is difficult to set aside times for this stillness with my Type A personality.
I know, however, that these times give me life. I also realized that I am least grateful for those times when I have taken on more than I can handle. I do not feel I am giving anything my full attention. As I became aware of this, I realized that I need to focus on limiting my activities. In other words, I learned that even though there are so many wonderful opportunities for ministry, if I try to do everything, I am drained of life. I do not feel grateful to God, instead I feel overwhelmed. Therefore as I follow these insights I become more aware of God’s blessing and the manner in which He can best use me. I am doing the things that bring me life and feel a thankfulness and gratitude toward God. To put it simply, if something brings you life, do more of it. If it takes life away from you, do less of it.
Another way to practice Examen is with others. It can be experienced as a family. When we began the process, our daughters were ages three and seven years. At our evening meal, we shared our best and worst for the day. This not only helped us think of and share how we were grateful, but also facilitated discussion of problems, of which we as parents were at times unaware. It also helped us as parents share the ways God had blessed us and let the girls see that we had struggles even as adults. The sharing of consolations and desolations is now more sporadic, and it typically occurs when I say good night. The topics have become more complex—as they are in high school and middle school—but it still serves to help our family emphasize how God brings life and how He walks with us when we struggle.
Examen can be used in a myriad of ways in one’s profession or with friends. I train marriage and family therapists. Part of my role is supervision of interns as they learn to counsel. At our weekly meeting we share our consolations and desolations as part of supervision. The semester always begins with some hesitancy as they share, but by the end of the fifteen weeks, the group has become close. I give them the list of consolations and desolations that I have recorded each week to help them identify things that bring them life and challenges that drain life from them.
Finally, Examen can be used to help in decision-making. It helped me in my decision to go into academia. I recognized that teaching adults was a consolation for me. I felt energized and full of life when I had an opportunity to lead a discussion or teach a class. This understanding was useful as I made the decision to go back to school in order to teach at the college level.
Examen emphasizes the way God blesses us and how He allows us to struggle. As we all know, God has not promised us a life without challenges. However, He uses these as opportunities to bring glory to himself and refine us for a closer walk with him. When we have a grateful heart despite the trials of life, like Paul we can say, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances” (Philippians 4:11, NIV).
For more on Examen see the book, Sleeping with Bread: Holding on to What Gives Us Life, by Matt Linn, Dennis Linn, and Sheila Fabricant-Linn.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Gushing about Living God's Love - Conversation Seven
Please excuse me while I gush about the book I've been writing about, chapter by chapter, Living God's Love . . .
I want everyone I know and don't know to read this book. Like the waves of the ocean, my desire to read devotional literature, and frankly, have a quiet time, has ebbed and flowed. Living God's Love speaks so warmly, practically, and yet prophetically and sharply at times to awaken my desire to live this incredible life with God.
Holloway and Lavender wisely lay out in chapter five the model of Jesus praying and practical ways to pray. And here's where our conversations cross paths with the reflections on Hauerwas's Cross-Shattered Christ: rather than stopping at the model prayer or those few examples of Jesus going to solitary places to pray, Holloway and Lavender also reflect on the words of Jesus on the cross.
And this is powerful to me as I see these two books come together to show me something I had not "seen" before: the seven last words of Jesus on the cross are prayers. Jesus is praying in the most cosmic and epic conflict of his life.
The most poignant and gripping scene in The Passion--aside from Jesus saying to Mary, "I make all things new" . . . but the most biblically accurate--is Jesus saying in Aramaic in a way I'd never heard it, "Elihi, Elihi lema sabachthani?" "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46). Yesterday's reflections say more about this but today it is a gripping realization to see this and Christ's other words spoken on the cross as prayers.
This, I will think about periodically today and perhaps in times of crisis that come the rest of my life.
I'll leave the practical side for you to read in the book. This book ought to be your small group's or Bible class's next book to read and study. Taken seriously, this God-life and how they present it and practically apply it, will overwhelm and transform you and your community. Order Living God's Love
I want everyone I know and don't know to read this book. Like the waves of the ocean, my desire to read devotional literature, and frankly, have a quiet time, has ebbed and flowed. Living God's Love speaks so warmly, practically, and yet prophetically and sharply at times to awaken my desire to live this incredible life with God.
Holloway and Lavender wisely lay out in chapter five the model of Jesus praying and practical ways to pray. And here's where our conversations cross paths with the reflections on Hauerwas's Cross-Shattered Christ: rather than stopping at the model prayer or those few examples of Jesus going to solitary places to pray, Holloway and Lavender also reflect on the words of Jesus on the cross.
And this is powerful to me as I see these two books come together to show me something I had not "seen" before: the seven last words of Jesus on the cross are prayers. Jesus is praying in the most cosmic and epic conflict of his life.
The most poignant and gripping scene in The Passion--aside from Jesus saying to Mary, "I make all things new" . . . but the most biblically accurate--is Jesus saying in Aramaic in a way I'd never heard it, "Elihi, Elihi lema sabachthani?" "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46). Yesterday's reflections say more about this but today it is a gripping realization to see this and Christ's other words spoken on the cross as prayers.
This, I will think about periodically today and perhaps in times of crisis that come the rest of my life.
I'll leave the practical side for you to read in the book. This book ought to be your small group's or Bible class's next book to read and study. Taken seriously, this God-life and how they present it and practically apply it, will overwhelm and transform you and your community. Order Living God's Love
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Cross-Shattered Christ: Reflection on "The Fifth Word"
"I thirst." -- John 19:28
I spoke to Dr. Stanley Hauerwas about these words on the cross and how it reveals his humanity, but Hauerwas was insistent that it also simultaneously reveals his divinity. Certain things can't be neatly separated out to say here's where Jesus is only human and here's where he is only God. He's very God and very man in everything he does. This also helps explain reflection four posted earlier.
SH: Right. You draw close and the closer you come, the more the assumption that you know who this is, is challenged. The temptation is to say, “Oh, when Jesus says 'today you will be with me in paradise,' that must be God, when Jesus says 'I thirst,' that must be man.” It’s like he’s fifty percent God here and fifty percent man there. When what you must come to understand is that he’s one hundred percent God and one hundred percent man in saying 'today you will be with me in paradise' and when he says 'I thirst.' And that’s a lot to get our lives around.
WS: So in other words, the one hundred percent God side might be the 'today you will be with me in paradise,' and 'I thirst' more the man side?
SH: No, they’re both. (laughs) He’s a hundred percent God and a hundred percent man when he says both of those things, which helps us to begin to realize, Oh, this is different.
WS: So God is not . . . comment on the "cuddly God syndrome" that seems to be out there. Say one thing to the average person who is looking for God in culture today . . .
SH: Well there are two kinds of fundamental attitudes, both of which I find horrible. One is, I say, the most determined conviction among American Evangelicals: that God is nice. You can’t make any sense of the cross if God is nice. This is high stakes stuff. The other equally disastrous view is people walking out of Mel Gibson’s The Passion saying, “Gee, I didn’t know he had to suffer that much for me.” What that does is indicate an inadequate view that this is some suffering that has to be undergone because the Father is mad.
WS: Because God needs to be satisfied?
SH: Right, no this is the second person of the Trinity. This is justice. So there’s no justice to be satisfied—that isn’t this justice.
WS: So how do you separate that in our minds? Because this is a very common misconception . . . when you try to explain the opposite, it’s mysterious in a way . . .
SH: Of course (laughs)
WS: It’s slippery to hold on to.
SH: It’s very hard.
WS: How do you go forth and explain the real mystery there?
SH: What you have to remember, where you need to start, is getting over narcissistic fascination with your sin. There’s bigger stakes going on here (laughs) than just God helping us to think that even though we’ve messed up in life, God’s forgiven us and we’re going to be okay. This is about the cosmic re-orientation of all that is. That reminds us that we no longer have to live as if we’re our own creator. Therefore, we’ve been brought within God’s eschatological kingdom in a way that we no longer have to live the desperate lives that think we have to make sense of all this on our own grounds.
Read more of NEW Wineskins interview with Stanley Hauerwas
I spoke to Dr. Stanley Hauerwas about these words on the cross and how it reveals his humanity, but Hauerwas was insistent that it also simultaneously reveals his divinity. Certain things can't be neatly separated out to say here's where Jesus is only human and here's where he is only God. He's very God and very man in everything he does. This also helps explain reflection four posted earlier.
SH: Right. You draw close and the closer you come, the more the assumption that you know who this is, is challenged. The temptation is to say, “Oh, when Jesus says 'today you will be with me in paradise,' that must be God, when Jesus says 'I thirst,' that must be man.” It’s like he’s fifty percent God here and fifty percent man there. When what you must come to understand is that he’s one hundred percent God and one hundred percent man in saying 'today you will be with me in paradise' and when he says 'I thirst.' And that’s a lot to get our lives around.
WS: So in other words, the one hundred percent God side might be the 'today you will be with me in paradise,' and 'I thirst' more the man side?
SH: No, they’re both. (laughs) He’s a hundred percent God and a hundred percent man when he says both of those things, which helps us to begin to realize, Oh, this is different.
WS: So God is not . . . comment on the "cuddly God syndrome" that seems to be out there. Say one thing to the average person who is looking for God in culture today . . .
SH: Well there are two kinds of fundamental attitudes, both of which I find horrible. One is, I say, the most determined conviction among American Evangelicals: that God is nice. You can’t make any sense of the cross if God is nice. This is high stakes stuff. The other equally disastrous view is people walking out of Mel Gibson’s The Passion saying, “Gee, I didn’t know he had to suffer that much for me.” What that does is indicate an inadequate view that this is some suffering that has to be undergone because the Father is mad.
WS: Because God needs to be satisfied?
SH: Right, no this is the second person of the Trinity. This is justice. So there’s no justice to be satisfied—that isn’t this justice.
WS: So how do you separate that in our minds? Because this is a very common misconception . . . when you try to explain the opposite, it’s mysterious in a way . . .
SH: Of course (laughs)
WS: It’s slippery to hold on to.
SH: It’s very hard.
WS: How do you go forth and explain the real mystery there?
SH: What you have to remember, where you need to start, is getting over narcissistic fascination with your sin. There’s bigger stakes going on here (laughs) than just God helping us to think that even though we’ve messed up in life, God’s forgiven us and we’re going to be okay. This is about the cosmic re-orientation of all that is. That reminds us that we no longer have to live as if we’re our own creator. Therefore, we’ve been brought within God’s eschatological kingdom in a way that we no longer have to live the desperate lives that think we have to make sense of all this on our own grounds.
Read more of NEW Wineskins interview with Stanley Hauerwas
Cross-Shattered Christ: Reflection on "The Fourth Word"
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"--Matthew 27:46
"We seek to 'explain' these words of dereliction," says Hauerwas, "to save and protect God from making a fool out of being God, but our attempts to protect God reveal how frightening we find a God who refuses to save us by violence" (that is, by power of armies and rebellions). The danger of misunderstanding these words, taken from Psalm 22, is that we misunderstand who Jesus is. How can God forsake God? So we may wrongly doubt in these words that Jesus is truly God.
In addition, further led down this road by The Passion Movie, we may see Christ more as an object of God's anger, rather than a willing participant who did not regard equality with God something to be grasped and who in love laid down his life because God would have it no other way.
"Here God in Christ refuses to let our sin determine our relation to him," Hauerwas says, then continues like this:
Jesus' cry of "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me" is not God becoming something other than God, not an act of self-abandonment, nor is it a lesser god being forsaken by a greater one. Instead, Hauerwas explains, "this is the very character of God's kenosis--complete self-emptying made possible by perfect love."
"We seek to 'explain' these words of dereliction," says Hauerwas, "to save and protect God from making a fool out of being God, but our attempts to protect God reveal how frightening we find a God who refuses to save us by violence" (that is, by power of armies and rebellions). The danger of misunderstanding these words, taken from Psalm 22, is that we misunderstand who Jesus is. How can God forsake God? So we may wrongly doubt in these words that Jesus is truly God.
In addition, further led down this road by The Passion Movie, we may see Christ more as an object of God's anger, rather than a willing participant who did not regard equality with God something to be grasped and who in love laid down his life because God would have it no other way.
"Here God in Christ refuses to let our sin determine our relation to him," Hauerwas says, then continues like this:
God's love for us means he can hate only that which alienates his creatures from the love manifest in our creation . . . any account of the cross that suggests God must somehow satisfy an abstract theory of justice by sacrificing his Son on our behalf is clearly wrong. Indeed, such accounts are dangerously wrong. The Father's sacrifice of the Son and the Son's willing sacrifice is God's justice. Just as there is no God who is not the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, so there is no god who must be satisfied that we might be spared. We are the spared because God refuses to have us lost.These words are easily misunderstood and one reason we must reflect on these words of Jesus at the cross is that, properly understood, they shape us as the Psalms shape us. Jesus, says Hauerwas, is the only life that is "the perfect prayer the Psalms are meant to form."
Jesus' cry of "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me" is not God becoming something other than God, not an act of self-abandonment, nor is it a lesser god being forsaken by a greater one. Instead, Hauerwas explains, "this is the very character of God's kenosis--complete self-emptying made possible by perfect love."
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Living God's Love - Conversation Six
RENOVARÉ, which is holding an International Conference addressing the theme of Spiritual Formation and Scripture June 19-22, 2005, "The With-God Life: The Dynamics of Scripture for Christian Spiritual Trans^Formation" will address the role of Scripture in the formation of Christlikeness in the heart, soul, mind, and strength.
That is also the subject of Gary Holloway's and Earl Lavender's book that I am writing about chapter by chapter in this blog. More specifically, chapter four discusses how to listen for God's voice through meditative reading called lectio divina, "holy reading." In a later article, we will be describing lectio divina in more detail, but here is what RENOVARÉ recently said in an email about their upcoming conference, and it fits here:
Scripture and God's authority stands over me, and I am shaped by Scripture, by his voice, by his "Spirit of truth" (John 14:17). More and more I'm finding that Spirit of truth is not about exact beliefs but pure faith in the person of Jesus Christ, God the father, and the Spirit longing to dwell in me and shape me into the image of Christ.
That is also the subject of Gary Holloway's and Earl Lavender's book that I am writing about chapter by chapter in this blog. More specifically, chapter four discusses how to listen for God's voice through meditative reading called lectio divina, "holy reading." In a later article, we will be describing lectio divina in more detail, but here is what RENOVARÉ recently said in an email about their upcoming conference, and it fits here:
For many the spiritual formation view of Scripture comes quite natural. And yet, as we reflect on the Church, it is likely our primary view of Scripture has been formed in one of three ways:This week I am meditating on John 15, The Vine. Each day I will share with you what I am doing. First, I want to quiet my mind and heart, to be still and ready myself to hear and read. Second, I read the passage slowly, letting the words soak in. Next steps I'll tell you about tomorrow along with some reflections on the passage. One overall goal is to no longer stand above Scripture as mentioned above, trying to look for ways I can preach it or shape it to my point or particular bent such as historical critical concerns but to seek to be shaped by it.Apocalyptic - The Bible primarily as a resource for End Times concerns. John 3:16 - The Bible primarily as a resource for personal salvation. Historical Critical - The Bible primarily as a text to be subjected to scientific method.
While each of these views of Scripture can be beneficial, a Spiritual Formation view of Scripture is quite different. Seeing the Bible from this view encourages us in our daily formation in the likeness of Christ, informing in and forming us for holiness.
Scripture and God's authority stands over me, and I am shaped by Scripture, by his voice, by his "Spirit of truth" (John 14:17). More and more I'm finding that Spirit of truth is not about exact beliefs but pure faith in the person of Jesus Christ, God the father, and the Spirit longing to dwell in me and shape me into the image of Christ.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Cross-Shattered Christ: Reflection Three on "The Third Word"
"Woman, behold thy son!" . . . "Behold they mother!" - John 19:26-27 (KJV)
This is a difficult reading of Hauerwas for non-Catholics who have not revered Mary the way Catholics have. Perhaps, however, it's one that Protestants and Free Church Christians need to hear . . .
He quotes Augustine who says of Mary:
I don't claim to understand the importance of saints, but regardless of what we in the "believing church" or Restoration circles say, we do put saints such as Abraham, Moses, and Paul on pedestals, effectively giving them at least special if not at the extreme an unspoken sainthood. Is there something wrong with this? We hear echoes of Paul convincing the Corinthians (1 Cor. 1) not to favor one brother or leader over another. Our heritage is strongly opposed to following particular "founders" or calling ourselves by them. I'm proud of this heritage, but to not hold some who were people of faith as more exemplary than others or to see the special status God himself placed on Mary as the mother of the incarnated Son of God, would be to deny the model of Hebrews 11. This is not "no saint left behind." Some excel and are honored above others. God in Christ is still the only true saint and the saint-likeness of others is always imperfect but still worthy of honor.
But to return to the question of the importance of the mother of Jesus . . . what does Jesus mean when he speaks to John of Mary? Does he mean, "take care of my earthly mother"? Or does he mean, "this is the mother of your Lord"? She is worthy of honor as the first believer in the Messiah, who she was told about in a vision when she said, "Here I am." That was Moses' phrase at the burning bush, but her faith mirrors Abraham's.
As Hauerwas observes from Raniero Cantalamessa's Mary: Mirror of the Church, Jesus is known as a new Adam, new Moses, new David but not a new Abraham. Cantalamessa suggests that the reason Jesus is not associated with Abraham is because Mary is. "Just as Abraham did not resist God's call to leave his father's country to go to a new land, so Mary did not resist God's declaration that she would bear a child through the power of the Holy Spirit," Hauerwas says.
Hauerwas does not suggest we add this saying of Jesus on the cross to our "pro-family" arsenal. "In spite of the current presumption," says Hauerwas, "that Christianity is important for not other reason than that Christians are pro-family people, it must be admitted that none of the Gospels portray Jesus as family-friendly" (Mark 3:34-35; Luke 14:26). He could be seen as loving children, but the Gospels explain this in kingdom terms, not in familial ones.
Hauerwas says he doesn't call attention to Jesus' anti-family remarks to denigrate his words to Mary on the cross.
Finally, Augustine said that God created us without us but refuses to save us without us. Mary is the first great representative of that "us," Hauerwas says.
This is a difficult reading of Hauerwas for non-Catholics who have not revered Mary the way Catholics have. Perhaps, however, it's one that Protestants and Free Church Christians need to hear . . .
He quotes Augustine who says of Mary:
Holy is Mary, blessed is Mary, but the Church is more important than the Virgin Mary. Why is this so? Because Mary is part of the Church, a holy and excellent member, above all others but, nevertheless, a member of the whole body. And if she is a member of the whole body, doubtlessly the body is more important than a member of the body.
I don't claim to understand the importance of saints, but regardless of what we in the "believing church" or Restoration circles say, we do put saints such as Abraham, Moses, and Paul on pedestals, effectively giving them at least special if not at the extreme an unspoken sainthood. Is there something wrong with this? We hear echoes of Paul convincing the Corinthians (1 Cor. 1) not to favor one brother or leader over another. Our heritage is strongly opposed to following particular "founders" or calling ourselves by them. I'm proud of this heritage, but to not hold some who were people of faith as more exemplary than others or to see the special status God himself placed on Mary as the mother of the incarnated Son of God, would be to deny the model of Hebrews 11. This is not "no saint left behind." Some excel and are honored above others. God in Christ is still the only true saint and the saint-likeness of others is always imperfect but still worthy of honor.
But to return to the question of the importance of the mother of Jesus . . . what does Jesus mean when he speaks to John of Mary? Does he mean, "take care of my earthly mother"? Or does he mean, "this is the mother of your Lord"? She is worthy of honor as the first believer in the Messiah, who she was told about in a vision when she said, "Here I am." That was Moses' phrase at the burning bush, but her faith mirrors Abraham's.
As Hauerwas observes from Raniero Cantalamessa's Mary: Mirror of the Church, Jesus is known as a new Adam, new Moses, new David but not a new Abraham. Cantalamessa suggests that the reason Jesus is not associated with Abraham is because Mary is. "Just as Abraham did not resist God's call to leave his father's country to go to a new land, so Mary did not resist God's declaration that she would bear a child through the power of the Holy Spirit," Hauerwas says.
Hauerwas does not suggest we add this saying of Jesus on the cross to our "pro-family" arsenal. "In spite of the current presumption," says Hauerwas, "that Christianity is important for not other reason than that Christians are pro-family people, it must be admitted that none of the Gospels portray Jesus as family-friendly" (Mark 3:34-35; Luke 14:26). He could be seen as loving children, but the Gospels explain this in kingdom terms, not in familial ones.
Hauerwas says he doesn't call attention to Jesus' anti-family remarks to denigrate his words to Mary on the cross.
Indeed I think we can only appreciate Jesus's (sic) commending Mary to the beloved disciple, as well as his charge to the discople to regard Mary as his mother, when we recognize that Mary is not just another mother. Rather, Mary is the firstborn of the new creation. Without Mary's response "Here am I" to Gabriel, our salvation would not be.
Finally, Augustine said that God created us without us but refuses to save us without us. Mary is the first great representative of that "us," Hauerwas says.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Living God's Love - Conversation Five
In chapter three of Living God's Love Holloway and Lavender suggest that we may do well to speak of our life in God more as a covenant of love between a loving Father and we as his sons and daughters than as ascent to a particular set of beliefs, though that's not unimportant.
They look at what salvation really means. Does it simply mean not burning in hell? Or does salvation ultimately mean more than "being saved." They point out that our language of "conversion" or "getting saved" might lend itself to an under-realized view of the life God gives us now and cause us to see our salvation only in terms of a post-life-on-earth benefit. That's more of a transactional conversion than a relationship transformation that includes the idea of God saving us for relationship with him now and forevermore.
Next they talk about repentance not merely as feeling sorry for sin but a complete turning away that prepares us for relationship. Pharisees rejected the preparation of John the Baptist by repentance and therefore were not in position to be transformed by Christ when he came into their lives. Philip Yancey, in What's so amazing about grace? speaks to this in his discussion of Romans 6:1-2 with this illustration that really fits Lavender's and Holloway's focus on our life with God as a relationship. Yancey says when we get married, we do not immediately ask our spouse how many times we can cheat. What?! I know my wife would call that asinine, with the emphasis on the first syllable. No, continuing to sin or dancing around it will not promote the relationship that God wants us to enjoy with him any more than cheating on a spouse.
Finally, the authors show how repentance leads to a relationship commitment of baptism, which is not as much "doing" on our part as it is "receiving" and "appealing" to God's grace (I Peter 3:21-23). As Alexander Campbell pointed out, baptism is not a pardon-procuring process but a pardon-certifying or receiving ceremony. By it we formally witness to the story of God's love for us and join in this powerful, life-changing, redeeming, saving life story. We join with Christ in his death, dying not only with Christ but to our sin and living a new washed and cleansed life free from the shame and guilt that characterizes a life "out" of Christ rather than "in Christ," one of Apostle Paul's favorite phrases.
The authors leave us with one final picture of the church, which will be discussed more in-depth in later chapters. The picture is in John's Revelation (19:7), the bride of Christ, dressed in lily white, fresh as Spring on untouched land. The church is the bride of Christ the lamb of God. The future we have is to be fully known and to fully know God in Christ who we walk with now by the Spirit.
For reflection and deeper thought sample questions from the end of chapter three:
What do you remember about your initial response to God's loving call?
Have you truly repented of a self-focused life? What can help you do so?
What do you need to do to stay focused throughout the day on God's love for you? Develop a plan to remind yourself--notes, reminders from friends, hourly thoughts, etc.
They look at what salvation really means. Does it simply mean not burning in hell? Or does salvation ultimately mean more than "being saved." They point out that our language of "conversion" or "getting saved" might lend itself to an under-realized view of the life God gives us now and cause us to see our salvation only in terms of a post-life-on-earth benefit. That's more of a transactional conversion than a relationship transformation that includes the idea of God saving us for relationship with him now and forevermore.
Next they talk about repentance not merely as feeling sorry for sin but a complete turning away that prepares us for relationship. Pharisees rejected the preparation of John the Baptist by repentance and therefore were not in position to be transformed by Christ when he came into their lives. Philip Yancey, in What's so amazing about grace? speaks to this in his discussion of Romans 6:1-2 with this illustration that really fits Lavender's and Holloway's focus on our life with God as a relationship. Yancey says when we get married, we do not immediately ask our spouse how many times we can cheat. What?! I know my wife would call that asinine, with the emphasis on the first syllable. No, continuing to sin or dancing around it will not promote the relationship that God wants us to enjoy with him any more than cheating on a spouse.
Finally, the authors show how repentance leads to a relationship commitment of baptism, which is not as much "doing" on our part as it is "receiving" and "appealing" to God's grace (I Peter 3:21-23). As Alexander Campbell pointed out, baptism is not a pardon-procuring process but a pardon-certifying or receiving ceremony. By it we formally witness to the story of God's love for us and join in this powerful, life-changing, redeeming, saving life story. We join with Christ in his death, dying not only with Christ but to our sin and living a new washed and cleansed life free from the shame and guilt that characterizes a life "out" of Christ rather than "in Christ," one of Apostle Paul's favorite phrases.
The authors leave us with one final picture of the church, which will be discussed more in-depth in later chapters. The picture is in John's Revelation (19:7), the bride of Christ, dressed in lily white, fresh as Spring on untouched land. The church is the bride of Christ the lamb of God. The future we have is to be fully known and to fully know God in Christ who we walk with now by the Spirit.
For reflection and deeper thought sample questions from the end of chapter three:
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Living God's Love - Conversation Four
Where are we in our lives in relation to Jesus shaping us? Review 2 Cor 3:17-18 and Gal 4:20 about being shaped into Christ's image. What does that really mean? We often make faith an abstract and intangible set of nebulous beliefs and a system of values that is not connected to the person and life of Jesus, to the powerful drama of God's story. Finding ourselves in God's story is where we need to park the rest of our lives.
In the ethics issue (Jan/Feb 05), Lynn Anderson laid out stages of faith that I think are very helpful in this discussion to interface with at this point. Here is the link: Heart of Integrity: stages of faith
Here are more resources from Living God's Love:
Gunilla Norris, Being Home: Discovering the Spiritual in the everyday (Mahwah, New Jersey: HiddenSpring, 2001).
William A. Barry, Finding God in all things (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991).
Dallas Willard, The Divine conspiracy: discovering our hidden life in God (San Francisco: Harper, 1998).
Madame Guyon, Experiencing the depths of Jesus Christ (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2000).
In the ethics issue (Jan/Feb 05), Lynn Anderson laid out stages of faith that I think are very helpful in this discussion to interface with at this point. Here is the link: Heart of Integrity: stages of faith
Here are more resources from Living God's Love:
Gunilla Norris, Being Home: Discovering the Spiritual in the everyday (Mahwah, New Jersey: HiddenSpring, 2001).
William A. Barry, Finding God in all things (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991).
Dallas Willard, The Divine conspiracy: discovering our hidden life in God (San Francisco: Harper, 1998).
Madame Guyon, Experiencing the depths of Jesus Christ (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2000).
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Living God's Love - Conversation Three
In chapter two of Lavender's and Holloway's book, the authors lay out the most important story of history: God's story of his creation, chosing, and continuing pursuit of his creation for relationship.
This story may not be new to you, but the way the story touches us, the way we internalize it and are transformed by it, the way we make the story our own, is radically different from anything we might have ever discovered.
Indeed, we are part of a larger drama that God is directing. As one person recently told me, "What God has in store five years from now is none of my business." Our business is seeing how God has been working through history and how we are being shaped by that story. The way our story intersects with God's story as a drama has been described variously by different authors but Lavender and Holloway reference J. Richard Middleton and Brian Walsh, Truth is stranger than it used to be (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 1995), 182.
Here are the six acts of God's drama that Holloway and Lavender lay out in chapter 2 of Living God's Love:
Seems simple but it's more messy when we begin to become uneasy with our theatre chair and find ourselves on stage in the drama. Neither are we the director but we are fellow participants in the drama of God's story. When we read Romans 5-7 we realize we have more in common with Adam than Jesus but by the grace of God we are joined in union with Christ. By sin the one man brought death and we're of that one man, Adam. Yet by the one man, Jesus Christ, we have been made alive and join with him.
When we read various stories in the Bible, who do we identify with? The righteous ones? Do we berate and belittle the Jews when they throw earrings in the fire and out comes a golden calf? Do we find Aaron guilty or do we see ourselves with a fist full of rings, waiting in anticipation for what idol comes out of the fire? Do we absolve ourselves of the sin and deception we see in Jacob's life? Do we think Lot's wife was so different from us when we long for comforts of home, take our hand from the plow and away from the narrow path and look back? The difference here is perspective and through whose eyes we see the story. We've been trained to read Scripture from on high, working it to our advantage, proving our points, making ourselves the good guys. We are the woman at the well . . . or perhaps we are one of the five men who discarded this poor Samaritan woman that Jesus had pity on, on whom he pronounced the blessing of living water and sent her on her way as the first to proclaim the gospel message "come and see." [Some of these last lines of reflection here come from hearing John York's sermon this Sunday at Woodmont]
We have been experiencing a journey ourselves, but do we consider ourselves part of God's story? Or do we co-opt God's story for our own purposes, shaping the story into our own story, making God into our image. The reverse should happen: the story shapes us, we are formed into God's image when God's story becomes our story, when our story melts into union with the story much bigger than us, much more profound than our personal journeys. This is the story that God is authoring.
For Personal Reflection (from Living God's Love)
How do you view the biblical story? Do you see yourself in the story as part of God's redemptive plan? If so, how does that shape your life today?
Why do you think Israel misunderstood God's purpose for them? How can we avoid the same mistake?
What gets you out of bed in the morning? Do you see your work as something that allows you to get by, or as an opportunity to embody God's kingdom?
This story may not be new to you, but the way the story touches us, the way we internalize it and are transformed by it, the way we make the story our own, is radically different from anything we might have ever discovered.
Indeed, we are part of a larger drama that God is directing. As one person recently told me, "What God has in store five years from now is none of my business." Our business is seeing how God has been working through history and how we are being shaped by that story. The way our story intersects with God's story as a drama has been described variously by different authors but Lavender and Holloway reference J. Richard Middleton and Brian Walsh, Truth is stranger than it used to be (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 1995), 182.
Here are the six acts of God's drama that Holloway and Lavender lay out in chapter 2 of Living God's Love:
- Act 1: Creation
- Act 2: Fall
- Act 3: Israel
- Act 4: Jesus
- Act 5: Church
- Act 6: Return of Jesus
Seems simple but it's more messy when we begin to become uneasy with our theatre chair and find ourselves on stage in the drama. Neither are we the director but we are fellow participants in the drama of God's story. When we read Romans 5-7 we realize we have more in common with Adam than Jesus but by the grace of God we are joined in union with Christ. By sin the one man brought death and we're of that one man, Adam. Yet by the one man, Jesus Christ, we have been made alive and join with him.
When we read various stories in the Bible, who do we identify with? The righteous ones? Do we berate and belittle the Jews when they throw earrings in the fire and out comes a golden calf? Do we find Aaron guilty or do we see ourselves with a fist full of rings, waiting in anticipation for what idol comes out of the fire? Do we absolve ourselves of the sin and deception we see in Jacob's life? Do we think Lot's wife was so different from us when we long for comforts of home, take our hand from the plow and away from the narrow path and look back? The difference here is perspective and through whose eyes we see the story. We've been trained to read Scripture from on high, working it to our advantage, proving our points, making ourselves the good guys. We are the woman at the well . . . or perhaps we are one of the five men who discarded this poor Samaritan woman that Jesus had pity on, on whom he pronounced the blessing of living water and sent her on her way as the first to proclaim the gospel message "come and see." [Some of these last lines of reflection here come from hearing John York's sermon this Sunday at Woodmont]
We have been experiencing a journey ourselves, but do we consider ourselves part of God's story? Or do we co-opt God's story for our own purposes, shaping the story into our own story, making God into our image. The reverse should happen: the story shapes us, we are formed into God's image when God's story becomes our story, when our story melts into union with the story much bigger than us, much more profound than our personal journeys. This is the story that God is authoring.
For Personal Reflection (from Living God's Love)
How do you view the biblical story? Do you see yourself in the story as part of God's redemptive plan? If so, how does that shape your life today?
Why do you think Israel misunderstood God's purpose for them? How can we avoid the same mistake?
What gets you out of bed in the morning? Do you see your work as something that allows you to get by, or as an opportunity to embody God's kingdom?
Monday, March 21, 2005
Terry Schiavo and "orthodox" view
A reader named Eric has sent this opinion which is relevant right now to the dilemma or removing or keeping the feeding tube for Terry Schiavo in Florida. Please see our ethics issue (Jan/Feb 05) for more in-depth focus on medical ethics that can help us think through these important issues.
Here are Eric's comment:
Here are Eric's comment:
Recently, I read a devotional book by Roberta Bondi, she teaches at Candler. She deals indirectly with dying with dignity issue. Her Aunt was about to be forced to go through an orthopedic surgery through which she had little chance of survivial. Bondi halted the surgery and a morphine drip was begun instead. Having dealt with geriatrics for thirteen years and watching families and patients, I don't know that I can keep my integrity and hold an "orthodox" opinion on this matter. I simply can't understand why it is seen as an evil to withdrawal unnatural means of sustaining life. God made the human body to live under certain conditions.Join us in reviewing articles in our ethics issue and in discussing here on Wineskins Blog.
Why would some legislate that I choose "all available means" to be a faithful Christian, when God didn't design the body to resist extreme conditions. I am not saying that a Christian should not choose all available means, but where can I stop. I think we need to allow others in the community of faith the freedom to decided how best to guard the image of God. In theory, each new medical advance would place new ethical obligation on the family and patient. Perhaps God's image in us is much more than the physical body, but perhaps resides in the spirit that returns to God.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
What does mountain climbing have to do with Spiritual Formation?
A few years ago fourteen buddies and I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. We climbed in four stages. The first day we walked through tropical rainforest and could not even see the summit. Incidently, the guys who came with gortex and North Face outfits got just as wet as those of us with cotton socks and tennis shoes, because it rained and we were walking up a path that turned into a river!
Day two we walked through mountain savanna and scrub brush around boulders with fantastic vistas of the summit up ahead, almost laterally ahead of us. It looked light years away, and I wondered how we were going to make it to the top.
Day three, now at nearly 12,000 feet, we walked through alpine desert, a dusty flat slope up to the last place we would sleep before attempting to summit the next morning. We would sleep until midnight at Kibo Hut at about 16,000 feet, wake up, walk in the dark two steps forward and one step back on scree (like fine gravel), trudging up switchbacks for six hours. At dawn we looked back and the sun was coming up, illuminating the path ahead and the expanse below from which we'd come.
Dawn of day four was the most fantastic sunrise I've ever seen. We'd groped up the mountain six hours in the dark and the sun over the Mwenzi Peaks immediately warmed me and I forgot how much my head was hammering and how I was ready to quit. We reached the first peak, about 19,000 feet. A walk along the snow filled crater in the center of the mountain led to the highest point, Uhuru Peak, at 19,300. Eleven of our group went on up, four of us decided to enjoy the success of reaching the first peak. All fifteen of us sang "We shall assemble on the mountain" and shared a moment of communion together to remember our Lord as the brother who held this brotherhood together.
Were we climbing Kilimanjaro the first day, even when we couldn't see the summit? Yes. We were. Were we climbing Kilimanjaro when the summit seemed so far away the second day? Yes. Was alpine desert part of the climb? Absolutely. What about that last day when we were in the dark, slugging our way up ankle deep in fine gravel? Yes. All the stages were climbing and all were important to reaching the summit.
Lynn Anderson details Westerhoff's stages of faith in the Jan/Feb 05 ethics issue of Wineskins. Like climbing Kili, we move through the stages of faith and find value in each one. First, we experience faith then affiliate with the faithful, the church. Third, we search, ask questions, move beyond only affiliating with a church but seek to find faith in Christ himself, asking questions like his disciples, sometimes off-based, sometimes angrily, sometimes blindly, other times faithfully. Fourth, we own our faith. We make God's story our story, recognizing that faith is not only experiencing but it does include experience, that faith is more than affiliating with a church but that this affiliation is with Christ himself as we are being shaped by him, not only doing what he does but being as he would be if he were us.
Nehemiah 9 is one of the great summaries of God's story, told after Nehemiah returned to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem and Israel was returning to worship God. The story is about God's covenant faithfulness, Israel's stiff-necked (like a horse that doesn't want to turn) rebellion, God's discipline, Israel's return to the Lord. It's a cycle: God chooses, Israel accepts but grows stubborn and rejects God and in his compassion he disciplines or punishes them and they return.
The story is messy, and it doesn't progress like Westerhoff's movement from experience to affiliation to searching to owning. Someone might correct me here. I haven't read his book firsthand so he may acknowledge the messiness and cyclical nature of faith and Israel and our own faith, how it will dodge and turn even as it moves not by perfection but in the God direction.
Now, there are a couple of basic ways that people over time have viewed children and faith. The predominant Catholic view for centuries has been we are born lost. We are baptized as infants and move toward faith. In Churches of Christ, we have started from a safe position then at age of accountability we drop off the cliff into the lost position. In John Mark Hicks's and my book on baptism, we discuss a third option, one which affirms that children are maturing participants in faith if they are growing up being taught the gospel. So their faith and baptism becomes more like signposts than a U-turn. I believe we need more of these markers in our children's lives. How can we help put more of these markers in our children's lives?
For instance, handing keys to a sixteen year old is not a very good entrance into adulthood, but our society doesn't do much better than this for rites of passage into adult life. Similarly, when we hand keys of the kingdom to newly baptized, it ought to have been through a series of signposts along the way that give them a clear understanding about who they are believing, less about how much they felt they knew but in whom did they have faith when they were baptized?
By giving more signposts along the way, we are blessing our children with a movement toward baptism in faith, not baptism as the first step. My children, six, eight, and eleven all express faith in Christ, love for God, devotion to the Lord. But none are baptized yet. When Anna wanted to be baptized on her seventh birthday, we talked more than ever about her faith, how she could express it in many ways before being baptized and we still needed to experience some of these together.
How does a child express faith? I would like to hear more about how you encourage your children to express their faith in signpost ways. What is authentic faith? What does climbing a mountain have to do with Spiritual Formation? What metaphors make sense to you?
Day two we walked through mountain savanna and scrub brush around boulders with fantastic vistas of the summit up ahead, almost laterally ahead of us. It looked light years away, and I wondered how we were going to make it to the top.
Day three, now at nearly 12,000 feet, we walked through alpine desert, a dusty flat slope up to the last place we would sleep before attempting to summit the next morning. We would sleep until midnight at Kibo Hut at about 16,000 feet, wake up, walk in the dark two steps forward and one step back on scree (like fine gravel), trudging up switchbacks for six hours. At dawn we looked back and the sun was coming up, illuminating the path ahead and the expanse below from which we'd come.
Dawn of day four was the most fantastic sunrise I've ever seen. We'd groped up the mountain six hours in the dark and the sun over the Mwenzi Peaks immediately warmed me and I forgot how much my head was hammering and how I was ready to quit. We reached the first peak, about 19,000 feet. A walk along the snow filled crater in the center of the mountain led to the highest point, Uhuru Peak, at 19,300. Eleven of our group went on up, four of us decided to enjoy the success of reaching the first peak. All fifteen of us sang "We shall assemble on the mountain" and shared a moment of communion together to remember our Lord as the brother who held this brotherhood together.
Were we climbing Kilimanjaro the first day, even when we couldn't see the summit? Yes. We were. Were we climbing Kilimanjaro when the summit seemed so far away the second day? Yes. Was alpine desert part of the climb? Absolutely. What about that last day when we were in the dark, slugging our way up ankle deep in fine gravel? Yes. All the stages were climbing and all were important to reaching the summit.
Lynn Anderson details Westerhoff's stages of faith in the Jan/Feb 05 ethics issue of Wineskins. Like climbing Kili, we move through the stages of faith and find value in each one. First, we experience faith then affiliate with the faithful, the church. Third, we search, ask questions, move beyond only affiliating with a church but seek to find faith in Christ himself, asking questions like his disciples, sometimes off-based, sometimes angrily, sometimes blindly, other times faithfully. Fourth, we own our faith. We make God's story our story, recognizing that faith is not only experiencing but it does include experience, that faith is more than affiliating with a church but that this affiliation is with Christ himself as we are being shaped by him, not only doing what he does but being as he would be if he were us.
Nehemiah 9 is one of the great summaries of God's story, told after Nehemiah returned to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem and Israel was returning to worship God. The story is about God's covenant faithfulness, Israel's stiff-necked (like a horse that doesn't want to turn) rebellion, God's discipline, Israel's return to the Lord. It's a cycle: God chooses, Israel accepts but grows stubborn and rejects God and in his compassion he disciplines or punishes them and they return.
The story is messy, and it doesn't progress like Westerhoff's movement from experience to affiliation to searching to owning. Someone might correct me here. I haven't read his book firsthand so he may acknowledge the messiness and cyclical nature of faith and Israel and our own faith, how it will dodge and turn even as it moves not by perfection but in the God direction.
Now, there are a couple of basic ways that people over time have viewed children and faith. The predominant Catholic view for centuries has been we are born lost. We are baptized as infants and move toward faith. In Churches of Christ, we have started from a safe position then at age of accountability we drop off the cliff into the lost position. In John Mark Hicks's and my book on baptism, we discuss a third option, one which affirms that children are maturing participants in faith if they are growing up being taught the gospel. So their faith and baptism becomes more like signposts than a U-turn. I believe we need more of these markers in our children's lives. How can we help put more of these markers in our children's lives?
For instance, handing keys to a sixteen year old is not a very good entrance into adulthood, but our society doesn't do much better than this for rites of passage into adult life. Similarly, when we hand keys of the kingdom to newly baptized, it ought to have been through a series of signposts along the way that give them a clear understanding about who they are believing, less about how much they felt they knew but in whom did they have faith when they were baptized?
By giving more signposts along the way, we are blessing our children with a movement toward baptism in faith, not baptism as the first step. My children, six, eight, and eleven all express faith in Christ, love for God, devotion to the Lord. But none are baptized yet. When Anna wanted to be baptized on her seventh birthday, we talked more than ever about her faith, how she could express it in many ways before being baptized and we still needed to experience some of these together.
How does a child express faith? I would like to hear more about how you encourage your children to express their faith in signpost ways. What is authentic faith? What does climbing a mountain have to do with Spiritual Formation? What metaphors make sense to you?
Show and Tell
One short thought: Our grade-school experience that was designed to ease our fears in presenting before a group may well have wisdom in its name.
If Christians make it a practice to be all about supporting each other and those in need in extravagant ways just as the early church did right after Pentecost, people will naturally ask "Why are you doing this?"
That's our opportunity to answer, "Because Jesus would."
If we show His love first, we are almost guaranteed an easy transition to tell of it.
If Christians make it a practice to be all about supporting each other and those in need in extravagant ways just as the early church did right after Pentecost, people will naturally ask "Why are you doing this?"
That's our opportunity to answer, "Because Jesus would."
If we show His love first, we are almost guaranteed an easy transition to tell of it.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Ashley Smith
Ashley Smith's story is amazing. A struggling widow and mother of a five-year-old endured a harrowing ordeal with a man who was the focus of perhaps the largest manhunt in Georgia history, Brian Nichols, who is accused of murdering of a judge and three others in his escape from custody and court appearance for the rape of his former girlfriend.
Smith knew this man was wanted for cold-blooded murder of a judge yet somehow her faith and life-experience and the Holy Spirit calmed her, allowed her to do two amazing things: treat her kidnapper like a human being who needs grace while still realizing he should be caught and held accountable for his alleged crimes. She stayed with him seven hours, was allowed to leave to see her five-year-old daughter, then she called 911.
During those seven hours she read to Nichols. She picked up where she'd left off in her own reading: Rick Warren's Purpose Driven Life, chapter 33: "How Real Servants Act." This after Nichols had held her at gunpoint, entered her apartment in the north part of Atlanta, tied her up then later released her. Before she left to see her daughter she made him pancakes. Nichols was surprised she would act the way she did.
What did motivate her to act this way? Self-preservation? The desire to see her daughter again? Or was it because she was living a kingdom life of a servant in the most extreme situation imaginable? When people are put under pressure, their true colors come out. Ashley Smith showed her faith last Friday.
Her testimony is one we should hear more about. For more, read an article by Charles Colson in today's Wall Street Journal, "The lesson of Brian Nichols's last hostage."
Smith knew this man was wanted for cold-blooded murder of a judge yet somehow her faith and life-experience and the Holy Spirit calmed her, allowed her to do two amazing things: treat her kidnapper like a human being who needs grace while still realizing he should be caught and held accountable for his alleged crimes. She stayed with him seven hours, was allowed to leave to see her five-year-old daughter, then she called 911.
During those seven hours she read to Nichols. She picked up where she'd left off in her own reading: Rick Warren's Purpose Driven Life, chapter 33: "How Real Servants Act." This after Nichols had held her at gunpoint, entered her apartment in the north part of Atlanta, tied her up then later released her. Before she left to see her daughter she made him pancakes. Nichols was surprised she would act the way she did.
What did motivate her to act this way? Self-preservation? The desire to see her daughter again? Or was it because she was living a kingdom life of a servant in the most extreme situation imaginable? When people are put under pressure, their true colors come out. Ashley Smith showed her faith last Friday.
Her testimony is one we should hear more about. For more, read an article by Charles Colson in today's Wall Street Journal, "The lesson of Brian Nichols's last hostage."
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Living God's Love - Conversation 2
Lavender and Holloway suggest in their book, in the "Going Deeper" section (p 24), that we draw a picture of God, using crayons or colored markers. "What do you learn about your view of God from this picture? If you think this is a childish exercise, ask yourself, "Has my view of God changed significantly from my childhood?" If so, how?
I decided to take their advice. I hoped no one came in while I had my children's crayons strewn across my desk and I was intent with mouth twisted and eyebrows furrowed in effort to draw a picture of God. So I guess I do need to ask myself how my view has changed since I was a child. Because we believe God doesn't change, doesn't mean we should let our view of God to remain static throughout our lives. We'll never fully get our minds around God, but part of Spiritual formation for us is to form our minds around who God is, what he has done, how we conceive of him, how we are shaped, in return, by him.
Here's my picture:
I envisioned the day Jesus returned to his disciples, who had been fishing, and he cooked fish for them. The ways God is revealed as creator and father, as Son and Savior and Lord, and as Holy fire of Spirit are represented. There are so many ways we can think and conceive of our God. I want to see yours . . .
Draw a picture of God today and share it with me by email or mail. gtaylor@zoegroup.org. The ZOE Group/Wineskins PO Box 41028 Nashville TN 37204.
I decided to take their advice. I hoped no one came in while I had my children's crayons strewn across my desk and I was intent with mouth twisted and eyebrows furrowed in effort to draw a picture of God. So I guess I do need to ask myself how my view has changed since I was a child. Because we believe God doesn't change, doesn't mean we should let our view of God to remain static throughout our lives. We'll never fully get our minds around God, but part of Spiritual formation for us is to form our minds around who God is, what he has done, how we conceive of him, how we are shaped, in return, by him.
Here's my picture:
I envisioned the day Jesus returned to his disciples, who had been fishing, and he cooked fish for them. The ways God is revealed as creator and father, as Son and Savior and Lord, and as Holy fire of Spirit are represented. There are so many ways we can think and conceive of our God. I want to see yours . . .
Draw a picture of God today and share it with me by email or mail. gtaylor@zoegroup.org. The ZOE Group/Wineskins PO Box 41028 Nashville TN 37204.
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