An Old Message gets New Clothes

Well, I guess you could say I had an epiphany in my car this past week. You see, God spoke to me through the radio, well almost anyway. Now before you start calling the men with the butterfly nets to carry me away, let me say a bit more.

I had a trip to make, involved several hours of driving time...and I began to think about how to make the time seem shorter, quicker. We're really into that today. Making things faster, quicker, you know? Now at the exact time I started to think about this, I was wandering through a used book and CD store. Indeed, I was right in front of the used books-on-CD case, and there my epiphany began. You see, my eye fell on a book I had heard about, but never seriously considered buying. "Blue Like Jazz" was the title, I think it was the subtitle that grabbed me, "Non Religious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality." So a few dollars later and that baby was mine!

Don Miller was the author, and boy are he and I ever on the same wavelength spiritually! The problem today with the church is not spirituality, we have that in abundance, the problem is the church has become so much of an end in itself. As a good friend of mine would say, "We have forgotten the bridegroom and married the wedding march." We are all about numbers and self preservation, and what we are against, and who we don't like, and do we serve communion from the right or the left (so to speak)...and we have lost sight of the underlying cause of it all. As Paul says, "We have forgotten our first love."

I remember when I first became a minister all those years ago. We would have our yearly business meeting at a large metropolitan church. That should show you how long ago this was, we could all fit into the sanctuary. We all looked like we were "cut from the same cloth." Dark suit, conservative tie, shined black shoes...well, you get the picture. Anyway, standing outside that first year, all of a sudden there is a roar growing closer and closer, louder and louder, almost a growl really, and then a Harley pulls up over the curb and parks next to the sanctuary. A guy with long hair swings his leg over the parked bike and the first thing I noticed was his boots...then his jeans...then the t-shirt...and then the leather fringed jacket.

"Who in the world is that?", I asked one of the older ministers. "Oh, don't know that I ever bothered to remember his name. He is on staff at First Church here in town and has something called 'Midnight Ministries.'" Now I can't remember his name either, but I sure do remember "Midnight Ministries."

See, this fellow had an idea. He got to thinking about people who couldn't come to regular church. Those folks that worked most of the night, bar tenders, dancers, prostitutes, winos who couldn't get into a church even if they wanted to. I found out that numbers didn't matter too much, that the offering was never going to make the newspapers, but what was happening...was church. Church like it always was meant to be, church where broken people found their healing, where they could come and touch Jesus and he could touch them back. church where it didn't matter who your were or how looked down upon your business might be. Just pure, sweet, un-adulterated church.

See, nobody looked down on anyone, or moved to another pew when they sat down, or refused to shake their hand. Down there, they were all sinners, kinda hard to look down on anyone when that is pretty clear from the beginning. Nobody got hurt from being left out or over looked, they were all pretty much the same.

Don was coming at the same thing, only from his own history. He is a Christian, and he goes to a church, but his church is not about religion as much as it is about relationship. Jesus wants to be in a relationship with all of us, and not just the "plastic perfect" in church. He wants to be in relationship with gay people, and Hispanic people, and all those sinners out there, and all the sinners in here too! Remember the words, "For God so loved the world..." no qualifiers, no "except fors." None of that stuff, he just loved his brothers and sisters and we are all his brothers and sisters. "...that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life." The gate is wide open! All may enter...not just the good but the bad and the ugly too.

I remember a dream I had one night. There was a long line of people stretching off into the distance before a large gate. And a scruffy looking man in an eastern robe was waking down the line and pulling out one after another and saying something to them. Couldn't quite hear, needed to move in closer...and when I did? That scruffy little man was grabbing one after another by their shoulder and pulling them out of line saying, "This is one of mine...this is one of mine...this is one of mine..." And there were all types there in his collection of his own. Yes some preachers and folks in fine clothes, and well, you know, church going types...but there were the others too. Some we would call "white trash," some that slept under bridges most of their lives, some that sold themselves for enough to get by, some that just looked like life had kicked them for a field goal that never quite made it through the uprights. Didn't matter a bit to Jesus, just whether they knew him or not.

The bad news for the church is so many of us are following false prophets who pander to our cultural passion for celebrity, or our consumerist society, or our prejudices, our old hatreds, our desire to stratify society, to be one of the "have's" and not the "have not's." They tell us that God is all about Republicans and hates Democrats and liberals, and we buy that because somebody with an "Rev"in front of his name said it. Truth is brothers and sisters is that Jesus never was about politics, he was about his father's business. God pretty much is neither Democrat or Republican, he is just, well, God.

The bad news for the church and the cause of Christ is this. What we are not paying attention to is what is happening in the church is turning off legions of young adults and others. We are irrelevant to their lives, we posture and preen and spout off our righteous indignation, but they see through us...they know the emperor has no clothes. And a generation is being lost. They see us hurt people, use people, and ask "Why?" and get no answers.

What is needed is a radical redefinition of what "church" really means. A re-approximation to the gospel is called for. To the gospel...the New Testament...so many ministers today have returned to an old testament theology, preferring an angry God and a spiritual Israel that is his elect...an "us" and "them" mentality. And as the preachers are quick to say, we and the Republican party are "us." We're the God fearing ones. Preaches well...gets people aroused...up in arms...money comes in...the minister becomes a celebrity begging for only four point six million in a special offering so he can get a Gulf Stream Four and stop having to fly commercial. Saw that one night on TV, televangelist almost in tears about how God had promised him that jet...and all I could see was the sandals of the Master. It's not about us, my brothers and sisters, it's all about Him.

Church is a hospital for sinners, a place to be healed, reconciled, and redeemed and then empowered to go spread the love that saved you! The church is not four walls, some pews, and an organ...the church is the servant people of God in ministry to a hurting and broken world in his name. It is feeding the hungry, visiting the sick, going to the prisoners, lifting up the fallen, bearing the loads of the over burdened...and all the while singing the songs of the Kingdom and longing for its arrival. The church is "red and yellow black and white they are precious in his sight." The church is a hand holding out a cup of cool water to a thirsty and starving society. The church is Jesus, incarnate in the world.

The church is also God's people seeking him in silence and prayer. It is dying to ourselves each morning so we can live for him. The church is giving up the symbols of worldly success and seeking an inward way to the Lord of Salvation. The church is also corporate prayer, and worship, and lifting each others needs to the Father's throne. The church is singing the songs of Zion and hearing the word of God and thinking about how that can make my life different right now, today, in this moment. I am the church, you are the church, we are the church together. There is a new day coming about which some of us old men are dreaming dreams and our young men are prophesying...a day when church again means something, stands for something, and has a great deal to offer to men and women whether they believe or not. A Church with hands and feet and heart. A church with arms wide spread, like the Master's were on Calvary. A church the Master will be happy to call his own. God bless you and thanks for stopping by.

When the Storm Breaks...

A wonderful quote I ran into today. I think God might have had a hand in sending it my way:

"When the storm breaks, each man acts in accordance with his own nature. Some are numb with terror, some flee, some hide, and some spread their wings like eagles and soar on the wind..." --from Elizabeth,the Golden Age

Risking...

I've just been thinking about how often I have missed one of God's blessings because I have been afraid to take the risk involved in launching out into the deep, leaning way far off the merry-go-round horse, to snag that gold ring. Seems to me that for a while now I have lived in a comfortable misery. By that I mean, life has been at a low ebb, sort of like a sailing ship stuck in the doldrums, but it was familiar, like an old worn out bathrobe, or a pair of slippers with almost no bottom left. But to set sail, to hoist up the jib and catch the wind of the spirit, is to enter the new and leave the familiar. Sounds like it ought to be exciting, but right now it feels a good deal more like fear. Fear that something will change irreversibly, fear that the new may be more painful than the old, fear that God will somehow abandon us to the trade winds of the world and let us sail off toward an unknown horizon. To stay is to slowly die amidst decay and misery, to go is to risk great pain, and there is no third choice. A conundrum if there ever was one!

And so we sit and ponder, and at last hope that someone else will make the choice for us. It's about responsibility, and accountability, isn't it? If someone else were to decide, why then it is their fault if the plan goes awry. How unfair that is to them, how un-Benedictine, and yet it offers a certain hope that is really no hope at all.

So here we sit, hoisted on our own petard, and await the outcome. God go with us. I found these words this morning in the office of Prime from the Monastic Diurnal: "When the foundations go to pieces, what can the just accomplish? The Lord still dwelleth in His holy temple, still is His throne set up in heaven...For God is just and loveth justice, His face is turned upon the righteous." Ah, my sweet Lord, how much your words mean to me right now!

No matter how dark the night, ever in the heart burns the Holy Light.

A Severe Mercy...

After the pain comes the learning. At sixty one is not used to having their entire life called into question by those that don't really know you. Such, I suppose, is the world in which we live. We judge with the shred of evidence and think we are doing God's work.

But God is still in His heaven, even when I am too angry to even pray more than a sentence at a time. God is still there. More that simply being, He understands and He is already starting the process of turning pain into empathy and compassion for others. Our Lord is always merciful, even to His wayward pouting children, but sometimes His is a severe mercy.

His greatest lessons often emerge from the fiery furnace and not the pasture of plenty. I could not really reach out to the grieving, hold the hand of one dying, until I had felt my soul rent asunder by the death of my parents. Now I am learning that following Him requires a total abandonment to His will. But oh the price with which this lesson is being bought! It hurts like the fires of hell themselves. The pain, the indecision, the conflicting demands of honor and humility, the giving up of self feels like having the heart ripped out on an Aztec altar. The master said it himself, to whom much is given, much will be demanded. I have become rich in the spirit, and perhaps a bit complacent by His generosity. Thinking after thirty five years in the ministry I was past the pain, past the point at which all falls down. Perhaps I had begun to trust in my own strength to carry me into His presence and so it was...stepping into the furnace door without even noticing it was there until the fire fanned about me.

There is an end, I know that. There will be a time when the hours of prayer feel natural and right again, I am going to say Vespers as soon as I finish here. But my future is unclear, my wife cries sometimes in her sleep, and His mercy is severe. Will I come to the point when I can thank Him for the fire? When I can walk about unscathed in the furnace? Perhaps, my sin may be what causes me to feel the flame now. Perhaps like dross, the fire is to burn it away. Perhaps...

Pain, Pain, go Away; Come Again Some Other Day

Why must it be that life must be so painful at times? Why do we do and say things that hurt one another and then turn away as if nothing had happened? Why does the church feel at times like a shark infested ocean? Why do we worship a God of healing and restoration, and yet refuse to offer even a crumb of either to one another?
Once again I am reminded that we live in a fallen world, that even we who proclaim God's name often find ourselves in a far country removed, we think, from His sight. And pain weaves it's cocoon around us and we find again that when we hurt, we are alone no matter how many people are around us.
Today I must remind myself that God never said He would take our pain away, what He did promise us is that he would be in the midst of it with us. Somewhere He is here, I can almost hear his slow, rhythmic breathing. But I can't reach out to Him, not yet. I am scared even to trust the one I love above all else.
But soon, healing will come, life will go on, but for now there is only the pain that will not let go.

What's me gonna do now?

My father in law used to say it whenever he couldn't clearly see the way to go in some crisis, "What's me gonna do now?" Interesting fellow, he was. Born in Chile, of Swiss parents who mostly spoke German, emigrated to Cullman, Ala. where he picked up southern English. Talk about an accent! A wonderful fellow, could grow anything God ever created.

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I was thinking about him the other day when I was "invited" to teach a class of ministers and laity a bit about monasticism. The person doing the "inviting" came up with the course title as "Monk Habits for Today's Stressed-Out Christians." Needless to say, that wouldn't have been my choice!

"What's me gonna do now?" Oh yeah, I'm to teach it one afternoon, a week from this Sunday, January 11th. Well, I suppose I can talk about regular prayer, it really staggers me sometimes when it is brought home to me again how many people have no real concept of prayer. Reminds me of the cartoon on a seminary wall. On the left is a congenial looking group of men in a loose circle. On the right is a lone figure, obviously the subject of the discussion. The caption reads, "And then the pastor asked Harry to pray, and all he could think of to say was, "Now I lay me down to sleep..." Funny, but a lot truer than I would like to admit. So, yes, prayer.

And then a bit about Lectio Divina for beginners. Slow, thoughtful reading of scripture, that might be the ticket. Stressed out, yeah, so many people I talk to are living on the knife edge all the time. Slow down, read a psalm, read it a phrase, a word, at a time and let your mind go with the flow of God's word for you as contained there in. A group of evangelicals might not find that to threatening.

But what and where from there is the question. Anyone want to throw out a few ideas? Thanks in advance and God bless!