seethrough

(i wrote this for my column in the church newsletter - but it didn’t fit in with this edition’s theme…  still, it is a reflection on an amazing staff meeting a few weeks ago where we - multi-lingual, multi-cultured, multi-racial and multi-aged team of colleagues - began to reflect together on the call to journey together down the perilous road toward real community, behind the masks, below the surface…)

I don’t believe that going to church can earn you a place in heaven. Church is sometimes not heavenly at all! So why do I pour myself into building Christ-following community?Every spiritual journey may be unique, but no spirituality is complete without the challenge to move from me to we - from a preoccupation with self to a new appreciation of self amongst others. And it’s not a simple or easy journey.

Many of us are involved in groups, but things can be largely superficial. The group has never faced a difficult conflict or ventured beyond the safety of superficial topics and conversations. M. Scott Peck, in his book A different Drum reflects on the stages of community building. He suggests that an event – planned or unplanned – usually throws the group into Chaos. This is potentially painful or frustrating. People are tempted to withdraw from the group. Many people move to other churches when a church community goes through a difficult time. Chaos can be hurtful and disorientating. And yet it is also a necessary stage leading to the next important stage: Emptiness.

Peck uses the word Emptiness to refer to the Jesus call to sacrifice. Before real community can be born, all of us will need to let go of something. Peck invites everyone in the group to ask themselves: “what do I need to empty myself of?” Before real community can be born, we will need to carefully navigate through the difficult waters of Chaos and Emptiness…

The good news for those of us who long for real, safe, healing, generous, meaningful community is… it’s possible. It isn’t just an idealistic dream. Real Community may not be as “pretty” as we hoped… getting there is arduous. But it is real. And in a world of superficial facades and masks and pretence… something real is valuable. Like an old worn pair of jeans: not the smartest pants in the cupboard, but always our favourite! St John’s continues to call people from the safety (and loneliness) of our self-ish ways into the challenges and complexities and joys and benefits of community – from “me” into a real expression of “we”.

[ref. Peck, M.S.  The Different Drum  Touchstone:NewYork, 1987]

i’m struggling with the fact that many of my contemporaries seem to be dreaming their futures in countries other than our own.

there are just so many reasons to go.  i really want to believe that i will stay (no matter what) but hey, you never know.  never say never.

but, if I’m going to stay, then i want to stay well.  i don’t want to stay, but full of cynicism, negativity and pessimism.  I want to stay with hope.  I want to stay, with a confidence that I have something to contribute to the country of my birth.

same with the community of faith of my birth.  i am fast realising that people of my age are not commonly found in churches today.  we are a scarce commodity.  not more valuable for our scarcity unfortunately.  the generation of which I am a part has largely lost faith in organised religion.

there are just so many reasons to leave.  i really want to believe that i will stay (no matter what) but hey, you never know.  never say never.

but, if I’m going to stay, then i want to stay well.  i don’t want to stay, but full of cynicism, negativity and pessimism.  I want to stay with hope.  I want to stay, with a confidence that I have something to contribute to the community of faith i call home.

so here’s to engagement - to growing confidence that will provide the platform from which to reach out - to keep on giving and investing and contributing and venturing…

and here’s to good news - the stories that are so often be neglected in our negative and previously-privileged milleu.

and here’s to faith - that desperately scarce commodity in a world of bad news stories.  faith is to keep on in the face of the barage of reasons not to!

and lastly, here’s to compassion - a distinctive response to bad and painful and disappointing news in a world of pessimism and negativity.  it might sound cliched to say “let’s pray about these situations” but if prayer is primarily about learning the heart of God (and not trying to influence the heart of God) then compassion will always be the marked and distinctive response of the community that bears faith and hope and charity.

here’s to this planet and this body, this town and this country, this place and this space…

right now,

and forever.

       let us try to imagine what it would

           be   like   to    be

   a part of   

       a community that reflects the

radical hospitality      

of jesus

what would it

be like

            to   belong  to   a    large  

       diverse and colourful  

family?

              what   sign   would   that  kind of   

      togetherness   b e    i n    a world of

violence ,    rejection ,    hatred

and

 separation¿

how do we face a tragedy?  I say we need to engage our hearts - allow ourselves to feel the tragedy and weep before the bodies lying in the streets - or hanging from a cross…  (see tragedy part 1 below)

So how do we survive a tragedy?

Our natural survival instinct suggests run - run away from any danger, threat or potential difficulty.  We assume hope is found at the top of the mountain - where the outlook is great and the view inspiring.  But experience - painful experience - teaches that hope is born in the valley.

In the valley of the shadow of death we learn how to trust.  “Into your hands I commit my spirit”.  It’s in the darkest place that we learn to surrender and we start the most profound season of our faith-life journey.  Perhaps that what is meant when U2 sing:

“midnight is where the day begins” (from Lemon)

Rather than running from the place of our pain, we may find we have to return there - not to be retraumatised - but so that we can begin the journey of hope, which begins in the valley.

a friend and I were speaking yesterday about money and generosity - and we concluded that the practice of generosity has to be learned when you have very little.  Somehow having a lot, more than enough, makes it more difficult to learn generosity!  is it the same with hope?

[One caution: some people are so overwhelmed by their pain or trauma that to “return” or to face the pain and acknowledge the grief will be too much.  perhaps it is important to recognise that sometimes our survival may require a period of “numb-ness” - a time of denial - just to survive the overwhelming emotions that threaten to wash over and drown us.]

Cate was baptised yesterday as my family gathered to celebrate her life. Cate is an easy going, contented child who laughs easily and watches what goes on arround her with great interest.

I baptised my daughter, a sign of God’s single, unrelenting attitude toward us - that we are loved, that our lives are a gift, and that there is nothing we can do to earn Life - it’s given.

I found a phrase from a poem by Meister Eckhart which begins “all beings are words of God”. I used that phrase as a starting point for a prayer, which i read at the Baptism yesterday…

If all beings are words of God
Then, once again you have spoken

If all of creation is part of The Song
Then God, this majestic music invites us
to join in the singing

If every moment is a touch of Your brush
on canvas
Then God, you enthral us with the beauty
of the masterpiece you are working on

We celebrate the life of Cate:

a gentle word
the first movement of a magnificent symphony
an artwork that claims our attention

We anticipate

thrilling conversation
tears and joy as the song is heard
moments that humble
when we see
when we really see the gift

a friend emailed the following message through this morning:

Hi all,
A great theologian, Tom Torrance passed away last week Sunday. We thank God for his tremendous gifts.

which raised the question in my mind… what is a “great theologian”.
some of the questions I would ask of a theologian who wants to be remembered as “great” are

• did you participate in a local community of faith? (and how did that participation contribute to your work as “theologian”?)
• how did ordinary people - ordinary readers of scripture - respond to your communication of things theological? how accessible would you say your writings (or communications) are to the ordinary reader/listener?
• who gets most excited when your theology is presented? (and who most benefits from the theological position or perspective you have chosen to adopt or hold?)

I am not familiar with the work of Tom Torrance, so my questions are no reflection on his greatness. what is becoming increasingly clear for me is that the work of theology is most clearly the work of the faith community in vital conversation with other knowledges, and not the other way around. (i.e. theology being done in the academy with occasional reference to the faith community…)

so often i read ideas in books that really excite me. i feel such a sense of ordinariness when compared to these amazing men and women who write books and are often quoted and regarded as “authorities” in their fields. and yet, so often they never pastored a local church - and that makes me wonder about how viable their theory is - how authorative their teaching is when it’s never been tested.

theologians who are able to integrate theory into a living community of faith (the church), are the ones who really get my admiration…

i just watched the movie as it is in heaven - a must see! among other things, it reflects the worst of the church, especially the moralistic nature of calvinistic protestantism. for those needing a reason not to participate in a church community, the movie could offer many reasons to avoid any kind of formal or institutional religious community. and they’d probably be making a fairly good, reasonable decision - and save themselves a lot of pain!

but why does the movie resonate so deeply with my soul. i am a church-man. ordained minister of an established and highly institutional christian denomination. and yet i identify with the ideals of compassion, freedom, inclusivity, belonging of the new community represented by the choir in the movie. I want to believe that the movie is not a call to abandon the church community in favour of other forms of community. every new movement seems to end up becoming institutionalised and loses it’s original freedom and focus. The movie stands as a gentle and yet powerful reminder of the primary reasons we are called to live in community. The impact of the little Choir-community in a rural swedish town represents what i believe a gospel community will always look like.

it’s hard to live with this tension: on the one hand, i love the church - i sense the incredible potential it holds. it has the vision and passion of jesus to guide it and inspire it. it has the compassionate and surrendered jesus to keep it kind and tender-hearted. on the other hand, i see all the signs of stubbornness - rejection of the freedom of jesus and a return to the legalism and fear of patriarchal religion.

when I ask questions about the church - and raise serious concerns about the church’s faithfulness to the teaching of Jesus, i am treated with a certain skepticism… the implication is that if I don’t believe in “the way things have always been done”, I don’t actually believe in anything at all…

it’s sad that asking honest questions gets you lumped with the label “faithless”. somehow i sense that it is in asking the difficult questions that faith is revived.

I believe in community - people sharing their lives with compassion and generosity. I believe we are always being called - by jesus - away from the habits of ME into the ways of WE…
away from the habits of FEAR (which always seems to lead to judgement) into the ways of PEACE (which is contentment)…
away from the habits of ATTACHMENT and HOARDING into the ways of CELEBRATION, JOY and FREEDOM!

p.s. i think a wonderful gift of the movie is that the choir leader is not set up as a messiah figure. although he has gifts to share, he is also wounded and fearful like the others. perhaps the closest person to a “messiah” in the movie is Lena, the young blonde girl who has a reputation for being a loose woman, but who knows how to love without holding on too tightly… “there is no death!”

what happens when you listen to the voice of the outsider?

well, many things actually. lately we have been listening to the “outside voice” at my church. rather than creating a “special” meeting to do this, i put pressure on to have the voices in our regular evening service of worship. my view is that if we can’t speak about stuff in a worship service, then there’s something wrong.

we asked some questions (in an interview style) of a gay man who is in a same-sex relationship and is engaged to be married. We also interviewed two people who are living with disability. we listened to (via video interview) the voice of a social activisit who doesn’t have an easy relationship with the church (Bono of the band U2). and finally, we watched a clip of Richard Dawkins speaking (of The God Delusion fame) and considered how we might respond to the voice of Science, and particularly the voice of those who are opposed to religion.

so, what happened . interesting! Some people struggled with the concept I think. I got emails asking me why we would ask an “atheist” to speak at our church. Some people boy-cotted the evening, meaning that they are not able to speak about the evening from personal experience of the conversation. Listening to the Gay man produced mised results. Some previously “homophobic” (in their own words) people came away from the interview with new openness. Others expressed a struggle with what the Bible says about the issue. I believe (”people are saying”) there are a group of people who are disconcerted about the topics we have convered, but have not spoken to me directly about that. I really appreciate those who spoke to me or emailed me their concerns.

What was emcouraging was that there were some incredible responses. One man who has really struggled with the church because he is a philosophical thinker and finds many of the ways that the church speaks very simplisitic (i think - i shouldt speak for him!) - anyway - he said that the evening on science and religion was one of the most amazing experiences of church he has ever had! Another person complimented the service in this way: “You manage to take a huge subject and not simplify it yet give understanding of it. Simultaneously you manage to encourage and challenge people to be open, to let go of fear and even trust a little more. You have amazing ability to get to the crux of the matter and you communicate with great clarity!”

to sum up:  what happens when a community of faith listens to outside voices… a lot happens!  There’s vigorous debate both in the earshot of the “pastor” and amongst ordinary members of the church… people get talking.  there’s conversation - lively interaction.  disagreement happens and people clarify and confirm what it is they believe - and more importantly - what is important and what is not so important.  the community is challenged to reflect on what they are “for” as well as what they are “against”…

i’d say, what happens is that a community of faith comes alive!  one thing i can assure you is that over the past month, if you checked the pulse of the St John’s community, you’d find that we’re alive!!!

not really, but i thought I’d get the attention of some of my nerd-theologian friends… (or used-to-be-friends…)

a few days ago I wrote about my understanding of theology (here). Wessel offered some helpful responses! one of the things i said in passing was that “Systematic Theology” may have adopted that adjective (systematic) at a very rationalistic period in history. in that sense we may need to critique the theological endeavour done in such an overly rationalistic context. But I’m sure that the word “systematic” doesn’t properly refer so much to the rational form of the Theology as it does to it’s overall coherence and consistency.

I was lying on the bed this afternoon, resting after a morning of preaching. I was thinking about my sermon of this morning, and wondering whether people realise that this morning’s sermon is for me just a piece of a larger puzzle. I work hard to ensure that the things I said this morning are consistent and compatible with the things I said last week and last year. I see myself slowly building a comprehensive picture of Life as God (in Jesus) calls me into it. I’m not saying you won’t be able to pick holes in my consistency. In fact, the most clear problem with this desire for consistency is when I realise I was wrong and have had to change my perspective or understanding… that means that things I said today may indeed be inconsistent with things I said last year - i would put that down to learning and growth…

But i wonder if some people go to church each week and expect a piece of something (pie?). one week they hear sermon on gratitude, the next on forgiveness. each sermon may be like a puzzle piece, but does it seem like the pieces are part of different puzzles or is it clear that each sermon is a part of a greater message that makes up a consistent and coherent whole?

what’s my concern? one example… a colleague serving a (racially) uniting congregation in the United States of America recently wrote about a question of theological consistency that he encountered in that context. he asks: why is it that the very same people who oppose abortion - using the argument that the Bible teaches all life is sacred - are the very same people who support and even advocate FOR the death penalty?

in this sense, seeking out a systematic theology - a theology (talk about God) that hangs together and has a general consistency and coherence - is certainly something I would support. Actually, more than support - every sermon, week after week, is my piece-by-piece contribution to a “systematic theology”. I really do think that my sermons will best be grasped in that light!

p.s. 2 obvious consequences of that then:

1. to really “get” my sermons, one would need to listen regularly, in order to see the bigger picture that all the puzzle pieces are part of… (and obviously that picture is not my own, but very hopefully the gospel picture!) The point is that my sermons are not primarily “single episodes” teaching moral lessons - get one when you need a boost kind of devotional messages. rather, they are a slow journey toward a new way of seeing, feeling, touching, being…
2. this kind of approach to listening and participating in “God-talk” means that it is primarily done in the context of regular worship - and a regular worshipping community. going to church is not so much about pleasing God but rather an active participation in a learning, growing, expanding, seeing community! (which i’m sure pleases God!)

I am a friend of Gay and Lesbian people. If their choices make them sinners (and I’m not saying that they do), then I’m a Friend of Sinners. Crucify me!

The tough thing for them is that they have to deal with being friendly toward a big sinner themselves…

(tonight I will be interviewing a Gay man as a part of a series of conversations inviting the church to listen with compassion to “voices from the outside”. If you pray, pray that we will learn to listen with compassion to the voices that are marginalised in our culture and society… I pray that the church will offer leadership on how to handle the vast challenges of diversity and conflict in this shrinking global village…)