So it seems we all live in a crazy-busy world. How does the church adapt? How do we nurture people spiritually and challenge them to do the work of love and justice, when they can't find the time to get to church?
Julie O'Shea, our financial manager, was describing this problem at our staff meeting this week. As a wife and mother of three children, she feels like she's on a treadmill sometimes. She said, "How can we get church in small bites?"
Yes, I thought, what we need is Tapas Church. Instead of expecting that everyone has the time to devour a big hunk of roast beef, maybe we should find ways to do church in small plates . . . a little at a time. Maybe church needs to be held during play dates at people's homes, in small gatherings to discuss a book, or in short prayer services.
We'll be thinking about these options over the summer. If you have some ideas to share with staff or the Church Council, let us know. We're ready to live as a Tapas Church, and I know the Holy Spirit is in the kitchen, showing us the way to get cooking.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
A Vision of Justice
In the biblical worldview, the righteous (tzaddiq) are willing to disadvantage themselves to advantage the community. The wicked, in contrast, are willing to disadvantage the community to advantage themselves. (see Bruce Waltke "The Book of Proverbs")
I find that a helpful way to understand justice. If we follow Jesus, we are willing to disadvantage ourselves for the sake of the common good. Here is a true story that describes what this kind of justice looks like in the community of Martha's Vineyard.
Martha's Vineyard is an island off the coast of Massachusetts. It's known as an elite enclave for celebrities and wealthy politicians looking for private retreat. It was first settled by immigrants from Kent, England in the 17th century, and those pilgrims happened to have a high incidence of hereditary deafness.
Because the island was isolate for many decades, there was also a great deal of intermarriage. By the 19th century, between 5 and 25 percent of residents in the Vineyard were deaf. In most cases, people with handicaps such as deafness are expected to adapt to the habits of the non-handicapped, but that is not what happened on Martha's Vineyard.
A sociologist who studied the culture there in the 1980s asked a hearing person how he felt about the non-hearing people. "We didn't think anything about them, they were just like everyone else," one older man replied. Did they write down notes to the deaf people in order to communicate, the sociologist asked? "No," said the man in surprise, "you see everyone here spoke sign language."
Those people who could not hear were not considered handicapped. They were just deaf. They were treated like everyone else, because everyone learned to speak sign language. An entire community "disadvantaged itself" for the safe of the minority. Instead of making the non-hearing minority learn to read lips, the whole hearing majority learned signing. An inspiring example of justice.
And the hearing people found knowing sign language carried other benefits! The kids could "sign" behind a teacher's back in school. Church members could "sign" to each other during the pastor's sermons. People could communicate across long distances and express their needs when they were sick or aging.
Deafness as a "handicap" largely disappeared.
That's a vision of justice, alright. God's realm come to earth. I suppose all of us could learn something from Martha's Vineyard. Tim Keller says this in his book Generous Justice. "The strong must disadvantage themselves for the weak, the majority for the minority, or the community frays and the fabric breaks."
I find that a helpful way to understand justice. If we follow Jesus, we are willing to disadvantage ourselves for the sake of the common good. Here is a true story that describes what this kind of justice looks like in the community of Martha's Vineyard.
Martha's Vineyard is an island off the coast of Massachusetts. It's known as an elite enclave for celebrities and wealthy politicians looking for private retreat. It was first settled by immigrants from Kent, England in the 17th century, and those pilgrims happened to have a high incidence of hereditary deafness.
Because the island was isolate for many decades, there was also a great deal of intermarriage. By the 19th century, between 5 and 25 percent of residents in the Vineyard were deaf. In most cases, people with handicaps such as deafness are expected to adapt to the habits of the non-handicapped, but that is not what happened on Martha's Vineyard.
A sociologist who studied the culture there in the 1980s asked a hearing person how he felt about the non-hearing people. "We didn't think anything about them, they were just like everyone else," one older man replied. Did they write down notes to the deaf people in order to communicate, the sociologist asked? "No," said the man in surprise, "you see everyone here spoke sign language."
Those people who could not hear were not considered handicapped. They were just deaf. They were treated like everyone else, because everyone learned to speak sign language. An entire community "disadvantaged itself" for the safe of the minority. Instead of making the non-hearing minority learn to read lips, the whole hearing majority learned signing. An inspiring example of justice.
And the hearing people found knowing sign language carried other benefits! The kids could "sign" behind a teacher's back in school. Church members could "sign" to each other during the pastor's sermons. People could communicate across long distances and express their needs when they were sick or aging.
Deafness as a "handicap" largely disappeared.
That's a vision of justice, alright. God's realm come to earth. I suppose all of us could learn something from Martha's Vineyard. Tim Keller says this in his book Generous Justice. "The strong must disadvantage themselves for the weak, the majority for the minority, or the community frays and the fabric breaks."
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
In God's Eyes
In my daily prayers, I ask to see the world as God sees it. My own vision is so limited and self-centered, and I am often blind to the miracles of the Holy Spirit as they happen around me.
I believe that God sees each one of us as unique, beloved, precious children. In God’s eyes, we are the fruit of divine love, conceived in joy, born with hope for abundant life. As someone said to me yesterday, “God wants us all to be happy.” Yes, God does. As a mother, I know that is the primary wish that I have for my children, simply that they be happy in this world that God created and called good.
So when I watched the President’s news conference on Sunday night, announcing the killing of Osama bin Laden in Pakistan, my heart felt like a stone in my chest. In the eyes of many, this was a victory. This was revenge at last. This was justice served.
And yet when I tried to see through God’s eyes, all I could feel was stunned grief. This is hardly justice as our scripture defines it. Perhaps God alone truly sees beyond our outer selves. Perhaps God alone can see beyond the human categories of Muslim and Christian, righteous and infidel, good and evil. But I cannot imagine that the purposeful murder of any living being is a cause for rejoicing in God’s eyes. I believe the heart of God breaks to see blood spilled in anger, with intent to do harm.
I will leave it to others to decide if our world is now safer or more dangerous. I will leave it to others to determine whether the time and resources devoted to bin Laden’s capture and death were worth the cost. I will leave it to others to discern the political and military implications of this act.
In response, I will simply affirm the truth that is the foundation of my life: Jesus is Lord! My highest allegiance is to follow him: to love my enemies even if they seek to harm me; to witness for peace through nonviolence rather than retaliation; to pray for reconciliation in conflict; to affirm the divine value of each human life, no matter how much we have devalued and demonized ourselves.
From what I know about Osama bin Laden, his perception of the West was deeply skewed and profoundly hateful. In his worldview, we were a threat so ominous that he could see no hope for connection, relationship, or common understanding. In his worldview, the only option was to seek our destruction.
It saddens my spirit that in the end this became our only option toward him, as well.
Jesus taught us to see one another through God’s eyes. I pray for the strength to see my friends and my enemies with that same loving gaze, knowing there is an alternative to violence and death. The cycle will never end unless we act with courage, trusting that Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed!
I believe that God sees each one of us as unique, beloved, precious children. In God’s eyes, we are the fruit of divine love, conceived in joy, born with hope for abundant life. As someone said to me yesterday, “God wants us all to be happy.” Yes, God does. As a mother, I know that is the primary wish that I have for my children, simply that they be happy in this world that God created and called good.
So when I watched the President’s news conference on Sunday night, announcing the killing of Osama bin Laden in Pakistan, my heart felt like a stone in my chest. In the eyes of many, this was a victory. This was revenge at last. This was justice served.
And yet when I tried to see through God’s eyes, all I could feel was stunned grief. This is hardly justice as our scripture defines it. Perhaps God alone truly sees beyond our outer selves. Perhaps God alone can see beyond the human categories of Muslim and Christian, righteous and infidel, good and evil. But I cannot imagine that the purposeful murder of any living being is a cause for rejoicing in God’s eyes. I believe the heart of God breaks to see blood spilled in anger, with intent to do harm.
I will leave it to others to decide if our world is now safer or more dangerous. I will leave it to others to determine whether the time and resources devoted to bin Laden’s capture and death were worth the cost. I will leave it to others to discern the political and military implications of this act.
In response, I will simply affirm the truth that is the foundation of my life: Jesus is Lord! My highest allegiance is to follow him: to love my enemies even if they seek to harm me; to witness for peace through nonviolence rather than retaliation; to pray for reconciliation in conflict; to affirm the divine value of each human life, no matter how much we have devalued and demonized ourselves.
From what I know about Osama bin Laden, his perception of the West was deeply skewed and profoundly hateful. In his worldview, we were a threat so ominous that he could see no hope for connection, relationship, or common understanding. In his worldview, the only option was to seek our destruction.
It saddens my spirit that in the end this became our only option toward him, as well.
Jesus taught us to see one another through God’s eyes. I pray for the strength to see my friends and my enemies with that same loving gaze, knowing there is an alternative to violence and death. The cycle will never end unless we act with courage, trusting that Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Encountering Angels
God is surprising. Angels show up in places we least expect them. The tomb on Easter morning. Lake Street in Oak Park. Let me tell you about three angels I encountered during Holy Week at First United.
On Palm Sunday we wanted to play the U2 song "When Loves Comes to Town" during worship. Rob Leveridge put together a band, but on the day before the service our drummer had to back out because his mother was critically ill. Rob tried everyone he could think of to sub, but no one was available. The bass player said he could switch to drums, but we would need to find a new bass. What to do? The band members trudged into church with their instruments on Saturday morning to practice in the sanctuary. A man named Sean was waiting in line for the food pantry downstairs. He saw the guitar cases and asked, "Do you need another musician?"
"Yes, in fact we do," said Rob. Sean was the answer to our prayers. He practiced on Saturday morning and showed up to play on Sunday for worship. Love came to town, all right.
God is surprising.
On Good Friday, a group of us gathered on a cold and windy day to carry a six-foot cross through the streets . . . remembering Jesus' walk to the cross. Marilyn and Dan, two gray-haired seniors, were the first to volunteer to carry the cross three blocks to Austin Gardens. We had hardly gotten started when a man with dreadlocks and sunglasses rushed over to us. "Can I help you carry that cross?" he asked. His name was Jim, and he said he was waiting for a bus but could take some time to go with us. Fifty feet later, another man walked up to us -- Tony was his name. Angel #3 also offered to help with the cross. Dan and Marilyn were relieved of their burden, and Jim and Tony joined us all the way to Austin Gardens, where we read the story of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane.
"How does it feel to pray with others, versus praying alone?" I asked the group. Jim chimed right in. "We're never alone when we pray," he said. "God is always there."
True enough.
On Palm Sunday we wanted to play the U2 song "When Loves Comes to Town" during worship. Rob Leveridge put together a band, but on the day before the service our drummer had to back out because his mother was critically ill. Rob tried everyone he could think of to sub, but no one was available. The bass player said he could switch to drums, but we would need to find a new bass. What to do? The band members trudged into church with their instruments on Saturday morning to practice in the sanctuary. A man named Sean was waiting in line for the food pantry downstairs. He saw the guitar cases and asked, "Do you need another musician?"
"Yes, in fact we do," said Rob. Sean was the answer to our prayers. He practiced on Saturday morning and showed up to play on Sunday for worship. Love came to town, all right.
God is surprising.
On Good Friday, a group of us gathered on a cold and windy day to carry a six-foot cross through the streets . . . remembering Jesus' walk to the cross. Marilyn and Dan, two gray-haired seniors, were the first to volunteer to carry the cross three blocks to Austin Gardens. We had hardly gotten started when a man with dreadlocks and sunglasses rushed over to us. "Can I help you carry that cross?" he asked. His name was Jim, and he said he was waiting for a bus but could take some time to go with us. Fifty feet later, another man walked up to us -- Tony was his name. Angel #3 also offered to help with the cross. Dan and Marilyn were relieved of their burden, and Jim and Tony joined us all the way to Austin Gardens, where we read the story of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane.
"How does it feel to pray with others, versus praying alone?" I asked the group. Jim chimed right in. "We're never alone when we pray," he said. "God is always there."
True enough.
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