:: in.a.mirror.dimly :: A theology and culture blog with the Bible in one tab and a news feed in the other.

I used to live next to a nine hole, par three golf course. The golf course was next to a river. Guess where most of my shots ended up.

What I knew about golf I gleaned from my summers working for a house painter and dear friend of mine, Jimmy. Jimmy was hosting a Spanish exchange student named Felix who also worked with us. We’d typically finish around 3:00, wash the brushes until 3:30, and then grab our clubs to putter around in Jimmy’s back yard. Jimmy sort of knew what he was doing, I knew how to putt, and Felix just hit the ball really hard. Felix had a saying that went like this, “Jimmy is stra-tee-gee. I am force.”

Jimmy’s favorite stunt was chipping golf balls off his roof to the hole dug out on the other end of the yard. Felix and I just waited until he came down.

With this kind of expertise as my guide, I’d sometimes drag my clubs over to the nine hole course and play a few holes. I rarely made it through all nine. I typically ran out of balls, patience, or both. Sometimes I managed to drive the ball clear down the tiny fairway, and even manage to plunk the ball in on four shots. This was a rarity at best. Suffice it say, sometimes my methods worked, but more often than not I ended up whacking brush back in the woods or fending off mud and crayfish in the river.

The mud almost ate my sandal once.

While there was no reason why I couldn’t keep playing golf and having a good time, it would be foolish to say that I didn’t need lessons or a training video. A bad golfer is a bad golfer, even if he sometimes lucks out.

While I don’t want to stretch this analogy too far, I think that the ways we share the Gospel are often left unevaluated because we occasionally enjoy success. If it works on some occasions, then we have nothing to evaluate, lest we undermine the well-meaning people who are just “trying to do God’s work.”

This is sticky business, however I think it’s key that we honor good intentions, while turning a critical eye to the way we live out and share the good news that God loves us and wants to know us. For example, we typically think of the Gospel as a message to be shared. Yes, we sometimes quote the line from Saint Francis about preaching the gospel by how we live, but I don’t think Evangelicals on the whole really understand just how radical a living witness to the Gospel can be. When we meet gossip with blessing, dishonor with honor, and harsh words with kind words, we are living out the reality of God’s Kingdom, living beyond the limits of this world. Suddenly these doctrines we profess have profound power over our daily lives.

While I don’t think we necessarily need to develop a “stra-tee-gee” for sharing the good news of God’s love, I think it helps to hold ourselves up to scrutiny from time to time. Are we watering down the message? Are we failing to live out the message? Are we being pushy and offensive? These are normal, healthy questions we should be asking. We can’t guarantee a birdie or an eagle every time we love our enemies or do good to those who persecute us, but in doing such things we are training ourselves to follow in the steps of Jesus. This makes it all the more likely that we’ll one day figure out that balance of living and speaking the Gospel in the right ways and at the right times.

As a rule I don’t blog specifics about ministry, work, or volunteer work. Having said that, I’d like to share some general observations I’ve made in the past month about myself.

I’ve been serving off and on in two relatively forgotten areas in our society of late: prison (when I can) and among the elderly/housebound (as a substitute for a regular volunteer). It has been a very interesting process that has pushed me to some new places.

Getting Started

Breaking in to service is the hardest thing. All I could think about at the start is what I’ll be missing, and what I wish I was doing instead. I was also hit with a lot of doubt about my own ability to handle whatever is thrown at me as I pondered all of the unknowns.

The First Time In

Whether serving the elderly or going into the prison, I admit I was nervous during my first visits. I didn’t quite know what to do even if I had been trained. I felt like an outsider, and any time you feel that way, it’s a bit tough to settle down and be yourself.

Acclimatizing

After serving a few times I have found that the routine isn’t all that hard to fit into my schedule. It requires more planning and some sacrifice, but now I have found that life goes on, and I don’t mind taking the time volunteer. As I’ve gotten to know the people I find myself settling in and relaxing, not worrying about sticking out as an outsider.

The Biggest Surprise of All

Serving is a wonderful experience and I have deeply enjoyed getting to know the people. It’s funny how you may see someone and underestimate the life, joy, and insight that is resting underneath the surface, just waiting to come out. It has been pure joy to see personalities and passions come out of people as I spend time with them. It suddenly stopped feeling like a chore, but rather a perfectly normal and wonderful addition to my life.

The other day I read about Barack Obama’s plan to support programs run by Christian organizations and churches through government grants. The basic plan is to make money available for faith-based organizations who are addressing the essential needs of people. In other words his grants would help fund programs providing food, shelter, medical care, etc., and not religious outreach or overt “proselytizing”.

I really wrestled with this one. On one hand, once you get government money involved you’re going to make people nervous about using the tax payer’s money to fund a religious programs that aim to convert people. In addition, as a Christian it’s hard to say where this line will be exactly. While delivering food to people, I can’t rule out the possibility of sharing the Gospel. I’m delivering food because they need it, not because it’s a “cover” for sharing the Gospel. However, as a follower of Christ I will share his message of hope if it fits.

The more I think about it, however, the more I’m convinced Obama’s program could be a win-win. Grants are based on rigorous applications, and as the economy tightens, I’ve seen small donors for nonprofits drop off, even if large donors are holding steady. This means grant money could very well fill a funding gap that will keep essential human services going.

In one instance, a friend of our family is a director of a Christian operated shelter in Burlington, VT. Though participation in Bible study is encouraged, the shelter does not make this mandatory. Over the past two years the shelter has run in the red, even though town officials have recognized this shelter and it’s programs as highly successful, especially in keeping ex-convicts from re-offending. I wonder if such a shelter is just the kind of place that would benefit from the grants in Obama’s vision.

The church and state matter can be sticky, and I certainly think it’s bad for both parties involved if the government digs too deeply into the church and vise versa. However, funding effective human services, religious or not, through grants strikes me as a practical and, dare I say, promising plan.

Americans love to fight a war against something. The war on drugs, the war on underage drinking, the war on terror: all of these describe movements of concerted action against something or someone. War is nasty business really, and I wonder sometimes if we could find a better way to describe our aims, however, if war is what we want…

While washing the dishes from last night’s dinner, I had a thought about all of our war-mongering. I thought that perhaps Isaiah was talking about ending our wars against one another and launching a war against hunger in God’s perfect future.

Have a look at this:

Isaiah 2:3-5

3 Many peoples will come and say,
       “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,
       to the house of the God of Jacob.
       He will teach us his ways,
       so that we may walk in his paths.”
       The law will go out from Zion,
       the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.

4 He will judge between the nations
       and will settle disputes for many peoples.
       They will beat their swords into plowshares
       and their spears into pruning hooks.
       Nation will not take up sword against nation,
       nor will they train for war anymore.

5 Come, O house of Jacob,
       let us walk in the light of the LORD.

So in God’s perfect future there will be justice, so no one will ever want to attack each other. God will settle any pretense we can think of for war. However, I think we can learn something today from the conversion of warfare into farming.

While we never want to ignore the importance of the peace the Christ brings, and hence should never lose the importance of sharing the Gospel, this business of changing from swords to plowshares is captivating. Instead of warring with one another, Isaiah’s vision is one where we fight against hunger. We wage a full-scale war to produce and distribute food.

When I go to the super market I pass the food pantry donation bin. They usually provide a list of what is most needed. At a time with rising fuel and food prices, food pantries are being hit hard with al of those struggling to make ends meet. This business of fighting to make sure those experiencing hunger can be satisfied clicks with my American sensibilities. Perhaps a war on hunger is what we need in place of a war on terror.

Even if I’m mangling the meaning of Isaiah, which I don’t think I’m doing too badly on, we have to admit that Jesus prefers we feed the hungry when we meet them. Remember that bit in Matthew 25:37? If I may be so bold to say it, our salvation depends on it…

The Bible repeatedly tells followers of Jesus to expect suffering, to endure patiently, and to never be ashamed of Jesus of the good news of his salvation (see Romans 1:16). This obviously means different things depending on where you live. In some countries you may be in danger of imprisonment and death, however in America much more a matter of social and cultural dismissal.

On one hand, I have no issue with people writing me off as a Christian. I live to please God. That’s just how it is.

But there’s something that really does bother me, that I even fear, and that is being dismissed for the wrong reasons. This usually happens when people associate all Christians with a  particular Christian leader or someone they know personally who has failed to model the love of Christ, lived  as a hypocrite or worse. While suffering as a Christian is a very good thing, I’m a bit concerned about being dismissed because of the failings of other Christians or misunderstandings of what it means to  be a Christian. Perhaps some people have a false impression of Christ by observing me…

Like any other group, Christians want to be understood and represented fairly. I recognize that I can’t control this, that sometimes I just need to take it on the chin. However, I do believe it is very important for Christians to clearly distinguish themselves from the negative associations that detract  from the core Gospel message, and to then let that message be the source of offense. In other words, we need to work on undoing some of the damage we ourselves have caused in order to clear the air and let the gospel do its work.

For example, I find it very important in conversations with people I don’t know and in public settings to quickly follow up an ID of myself as a Christian with a denunciation of the Iraq War (specifically Bush’s reasons for attacking). For the record, I never thought it was a good idea–I remember listening to the radio in 2003 and dreading what our president had just unleashed, but more importantly I want to make sure people know that even if Christians did vote for George Bush, that does not constitute a rubber stamp on all of his policies. In other words, I don’t want people to write me off  because they think all Christians support the Iraq war. There are Christians who  supported it and those who did not.

Maybe I’m overreacting here, but it really chews me up sometimes to hear the negative associations people have with Christians that really have little to do with the message the God has come to free us from sin and to give us new life, life the way it was meant to be. If you hear me out and understand what I’m saying and then write me off as a deluded, religious nut, that works for me. So long as you heard what I had to say.

Technorati Tags: Christian - suffering - persecution - Romans - gospel - Jesus - religion

Find out some answers to this question and a whole lot more at my friend Adam’s new web site for his community that is committed to Christian peacemaking: Shalom House. He wrote the following:

Our blog is basically the story of Shalom House as we try and work out what it means to be Christian peacemakers in this violent world.  It is a work in progress, we intend to keep it simple, but also hope to make it a useful resource for peacemaking information and maybe even a little inspiration.

I don’t know how I missed Roger Olson’s latest book, but it may very well be one of the most important books released this year if you’re an Evangelical Christian. However, How to Be Evangelical without Being Conservative may very well present a refreshing, timely vision for Evangelicals in the wake of the religious right. Apparently the marketing campaign is a bit thin at this point because I actively search for books such as these, and I had to look at Zondervan’s web page just to find some information after viewing Amazon’s bare page for the book.

While the religious right is still alive and well, it has suffered a grievous blow under the Bush administration’s failed policies in Iraq; its inability to address pressing domestic issues such as health care, the mortgage crisis, and many social programs; and its head-in-the-sand approach to the environment. Many Evangelicals recognized that the Republicans they trusted to bring about greater morals have actually proven to be just as flawed as the Democrats they detested in the 90’s. In my opinion the religious right is on the decline as many Evangelicals question its basis and agenda.

Roger Olson presents a compelling notion that I find irresistible:

“In recent years the American media have portrayed the evangelical movement as a conservative force in society equating it with fundamentalism. Many people equate evangelical Christianity with conservatism in religion, politics, theology and social attitudes. But is this the whole story of evangelicalism? Roger Olson’s new book sets forth evidence that the link between evangelicalism and conservatism has not always been as strong as it is today in the popular mind. Olson shows how contemporary evangelicals—who want to remain evangelical—can do so without identifying with conservatism in every way.”

That sounds alright with me. I think we need to recover our Evangelical heritage and rethink many of the pieces of our movement that have become hallmarks, but truly belong on the margins. The description continues:

Read the rest of this entry »

Ash Wednesday is one of those lesser known holy days. It kicks off the season of Lent with fasting, deprivation, and waiting: all things that kind of run counter to our culture of indulgence, convenience, and immediate gratification. In addition, a smear of ashes on your forehead as a reminder of your mortality is not only a damper to the outward appearance, but also to our general sense of self-worth. It’s a cross-shaped smear of dirt on your forehead and your ego.

Who wants to be reminded that we were made out of dirt and will return to the dirt?

I attended an Ash Wednesday service yesterday morning before work and really enjoyed the readings, prayers, and other elements of the liturgy at an Episcopal church. The point is confession and repentance, getting a clean slate as we begin the season of Lent in preparation for the cross and resurrection that punctuate the conclusion of these 40 days.

I really got into it, especially appreciating a lengthy time of confession where the prayer book listed just about every kind of sin and a prayer of repentance. Way to go Episcopals. But then we entered into the rite of the Eucharist and I lost my place. They skipped to a page earlier in the book. I missed the clue in italics and so spent a lot of time flipping around trying to find the right section.

When I finally found the right page, the other ten people were already up and moving toward the front for communion. I tagged along and then had a rather awkward moment. No one intended for this to happen, and it probably meant nothing, but when you’re the only new face among a band of regulars at a church, you read into things… Everyone hustled into place at the rail at the front, spread their elbows wide, and then waited for communion. Everyone had a spot except for me.

It was one of those poignant moments where any suspicion I had of being left out was symbolically slapped right in front of me. They all patiently waited for the minister to share the wine and bread with them while I just waited pathetically, like the kid not chosen to play in the game who has to watch everyone else from the sidelines. It was a very lonely moment.

As the group disbanded, I settled in, waiting for the minister to finish up with the others before he attended to me. It was really hard to focus on the sacrament at that moment. I was already struggling with not knowing anyone, of being an outsider, of getting awkward nods and smiles during the passing of the peace, and of standing like a loser behind the insider group during communion.

I beat a hasty retreat at the end of the service, struggling with the good things about repentance and the really, really hard things about visiting a church: feeling out of place, felling like an invader, feeling like everyone is watching you, feeling like no one really wants to talk to you because they’d much rather speak with their friends. I was half-way to my car when one of the ladies, one of the “nodders” during the passing of the peace, kind of dramatically ran out the door and called to me. She introduced herself and passed along some information about the rest of the events happening at that church for the Lenten season. We chatted for a few minutes before parting.

I felt pretty good. At least somebody took the step to reach out. It gives me hope. I can believe for a minute that Christians generally aren’t that bad after all. That churches aren’t just scaled down, member-only country clubs for the spiritually savvy. I believe that some Christians really do care about the rest of the world and aren’t consumed with navel-gazing at their own little churches, their little kingdoms, their little holy clubs. I believe that the world isn’t screwed because the people entrusted with the good news have a shot at making things right.

Settling into my car I looked up at my forehead in the rearview mirror to have a gander at my little ash cross.

I almost screamed, “What the hell???” I didn’t. I was too surprised.

The minister probably tried to make a cross on my forehead. I have to believe he did. But he didn’t succeed. In a large black smear of ashes on my forehead was a prominent,frighteningly large “L.”

Can I just say that it’s hard to have compassion sometimes?

Compassion is more than just feeling sorry for someone. There are two movements to compassion: shared sorrow and then shared action.

It’s defined as “a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.”

Even if the action we take to alleviate suffering goes no further than prayer, sometimes it is really hard to have compassion. People get under our skin, rankle us, offend us, inconvenience us… And thus the compassion runs dry.

Perhaps my kind of compassion is circumstantial compassion: I’ll have compassion if I deem it appropriate, if you haven’t annoyed me too much, if I think you’re worth it.

Did I just say all of that?

Sometimes I think I’m a lost cause.

Of course the universal human problem is navel gazing, a kind of near-sighted view of the world where the only things that matter are right in front of me, close to me, and within my realm of concern. What a horribly crippling, useless way to live, but there you have it. I’m so focused on my needs, my feelings, my reactions that I forget people out there really need me to pray, to act, to care, to forget about myself for just…one…minute.

But I’m SO important!!!

And if that is my line of thinking, existence becomes hardly bearable. Misery swoops in like a cold pelting rain. Everything is perceived as an attack on my happiness and position, everything ruins MY life, and everything revolves around me to the point that death seems like the worst possible thing because I will be removed from this world that is so deeply invested in me.

Suddenly, compassion doesn’t sound so bad after all.

For years after college I just assumed that the police, my parents, or my pastor would rush into my apartment and drag me back to their home or an institution shouting, “You’re not an independent adult, you fraud. You’re still just a kid in a grown up body!”

While working at a bookstore during my seminary days a woman said to her child, “Why don’t you ask that man to help you find the book you wanted.” I looked around. And then I realized she was talking about me.

Now I’m closing in on 30 in a few years and I’m finally comfortable with being an adult, a young adult in his 20’s, but an adult nonetheless.

Here’s the thing: I think I mentally entered the real world of “adulthood” about 2 or 3 years ago. I felt like something clicked, I had a new perspective of the world, and that fear of the posse raiding my house to drag me away vanished. I can almost remember the exact moment when it happened.

I’m not an expert on adulthood, nor the national spokesman for adults, but I think that my own little right of passage came at the moment when I realized that you, me, and everyone in the world has wonderful qualities and horrible flaws that simultaneously exist, and yet we get on with life. We accept each other, offend people, fight things out, forgive, and then move on. We look past the flaws to the good in people, hoping for the best.

Read the rest of this entry »

At the risk of sounding like a proponent of some synthesis of eastern religions, I struck upon something last night that has helped me wrestle with the implications of my own and my nations material prosperity, God’s concern for the poor, and the Christmas season. This is the gist of what ran through my mind: “Embrace God’s love for the poor and disadvantaged.”

This is a very helpful, if not groovy, starting point if we desire to move closer to God’s heart for humanity and our calling here on earth. Scott over at theopraxis provided a helpful way of thinking about this a few weeks back while reviewing Brian McLaren’s latest book by saying that all of our problems can be solved within Jesus’ command to love God and to love one another (or neighbor). That covers so much and reveals God’s heart.

The trouble is we try to do God’s work without God’s heart. We know “that which we ought to do, but we do not want to do those things which we ought do,” if you’ll allow me a paraphrase of the King James Version. In short, our minds and hearts are not in line with what we’re doing, and so we act out of guilt, fear, and obligation, and then we end up hating ourselves, others, and God.

So let’s start at step one.  Ask God to reveal his heart to you. Keep your eyes and ears open for opportunities to serve, keep works in mind, and maybe even keep serving wherever you may be, but make the love of God, his will, and his desires the center.

Just like, ask the great spirit to guide you, and like whatever, and then you’ll be like “Whoah,” and others will be like, “right on man.”

I just finished the Contemporary Issues study guide for my book. Within this guide, that presents the views of theologians on a variety of issues we face today, I made the point that Christians don’t often volunteer or serve the needy in their communities for lack of knowledge about what needs to be done.

I know this is the case for myself. While living in Doylestown, PA I really didn’t know what charities there were and didn’t know how to find them. That’s not an excuse though. I should have taken some initiative to find them. But nevertheless, I make my point that charities, for the visibility they think they have, can be overlooked in a community.

It is my own conviction that the nonprofit sector is one area where Christians can and should focus a lot of time, energy, and resources. Hours of program development and set up dollars can be saved by simply partnering with nonprofit organizations already serving in the key areas of a community. If there is no nonprofit to meet a particular need, then the church can step in to fill that gap. For the most part though, we do not need to reinvent the wheel.

Having said all of that, I was introduced to a great organization that has set up a site where Christians can find volunteering opportunities: www.christianvolunteering.org. The majority of these are located in cities, but many nonprofit organizations need volunteers who can help with stuff like web site development, and so a country yahoo like myself could very easily serve a homeless shelter in NY, NY  … that is, if I had any web design skillz. Sadly, I do not.

Even if we sacrificed one day of shopping to serve with an organization, I’m sure we’ll have a much better time volunteering than fighting mall traffic.

While working on one of the study guides for my theology book, I have rediscovered a fantastic book that has been on the shelf in our bedroom: The Wisdom of Daughters. This book is a collection of short essays by Christian feminists that addresses just about every issue and doctrine out there.

The articles were originally published in a magazine called The Daughters of Sarah, but dropped out of circulation in 1996. The Wisdom of Daughters is a great step toward preserving these voices.

I have been particularly impressed by an article weighing the challenges of theology in a postcolonial world. I’m about to go to bed, so I’ll do my best to paraphrase the gist of this.

First of all, in the 1800’s and early 1900’s, the West had a colonial approach to missions where the natives were perceived as knuckleheads who needed to worship God like Westerners. Native culture was attacked and tossed aside by Western Christians.

Today, Christians are repenting of their ways and trying to embody the Gospel message within a context, while still using the cultural language and customs in a positive way. Here is where things get sticky.

Every culture has its fair share of “knuckleheadedness,” and so Christians have the dual roles of working with the positive aspects, but challenging the negative aspects of culture. Patriarchy in South Korea and India came up as big problems for Christian theologians to confront when it comes to supporting women’s rights as part of the Gospel message.

I apologize for my horrible approximation. If you found it remotely interesting, I guarantee you will enjoy this book!

Lately Willow Creek has talked about Christians learning how to be “self-feeding.” The premise is that as Christians grow in the Lord, they are studying the Bible and taking responsibility for their learning. The problem is that personal Bible study and even much of the teaching in church can have the adverse effect of fattening us up with knowledge.

First of all, when I think of Christians who are self-feeding, I immediately think of a person studying the Bible by himself/herself. Theology is first of all a practice for the whole church to do together, and so even the theological conclusions of our personal study should be shared with other Christians, fellow bloggers, or some other gathering of friends and fellow believers.

And even if we proceed to become self-feeding, there is also a word of caution about feeding in general. I know that many Christians choose churches based on whether or not they are “fed” good teachings. This is well and good provided that the meal is not the main event.

Read the rest of this entry »

You know who these people are. They’re the ones you sort of know, as in their name and a few details of their miserable lives. They see you coming and use that same line every time to strike up a conversation.

And the conversation is pointless, meandering, and happens to be all about them. There is nothing you can do for these people, so why bother listening. You have much better things to do. Escape, all  you can think about is your escape. And so you learn to avoid them, look down at the right moment, or pick up your pace to avoid being trapped.

I do this sometimes. And then I think about Jesus and Paul. Paul talks about God using the foolish things of this world to shame the wise, but I don’t think that applies to this situation because these people are just dull and annoying, somewhere in between the wise and foolish which leaves me in the clear. OK, so maybe not, but that’s how I think about it.

But what can I do for these people? I really don’t want to be a friend. Really. I want boundaries. I want distance. I want to do my own thing and to be left alone.

Driving home today I had the thought: I’m a follower of Jesus, and so I don’t have the luxury of boundaries. I didn’t realize that when I prayed the “salvation” prayer. Yet another example of the bait and switch tactics of our contemporary gospel presentations that leave that whole bit about God’s Kingdom out.

Agh. So I need to rethink my policy toward certain people. I asked God where I can start, and I immediately thought of Anne Lamott’s rule for life, “Don’t be an asshole.” Well, OK, I can handle that because I’m not an asshole …

Oh right, everything I just confessed seems to say otherwise.

I suppose one place I need to begin is just slowing down, stopping to let these people catch up and say their bit. I could actually listen. I could pray for the right words to say back to them. That’s a start.

Of course I have a writing deadline tomorrow, so being nice is out. How’s Wednesday?