Re-Wilding the Goose

Beer and hymns can be a rowdy time. Correction: beer and hymns should be a rowdy time. My first experience of beer and hymns was at the Wild Goose Festival in 2012. A handwritten note simply stating “Beer and Hymns, 5:00” was scrawled on a napkin and hung on the post of the beer tent. Intrigued (how could I not be?), I showed up at the appointed time to find a large crowd, a long line for beer, and a musical ensemble clearly cobbled together from instruments on hand: keyboards, guitar, trumpet, and if I recall correctly an accordion (but that may be a hop-influenced memory). I remember singing old chestnuts with a gusto that never rears its head in my mainline traditional worship and even was different from the charismatic worship I had experienced during college. People called out hymns and we sang the verses we could remember, or someone would line out the verse as we went. It was rogue, it was raw, it was edgy and even a bit outlaw.

Fast forward to Wild Goose 2015; beer and hymns is now not only a staple, with regularly scheduled times in the schedule but there are bound hymnals and emerging rituals. On Saturday night I had missed the memo that the impromptu guided meditation being led by my friend Kimberly Knight at her campsite had been moved to another site, so with time on my hands I wandered into Beer and Hymns. The crowd was larger than the one I experienced three years earlier and it was continuing to grow, so I was glad to find a “comfortable back pew.” I started out rogue by going BYOB, pouring a cup from the growler I had brought with me. Then I joined in the outlaw fun starting up by my neighbors who were joking that when they forget words to a hymn they simply sing like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets. Since none of us had picked up a hymnal, we enjoyed our best impersonations, one person coming in as Beaker and even a feeble attempt at Animal. Smiles and laughter opened the door to running commentary during the following hymns. After expressing my need for more beer to fully appreciate the thinly veiled substitutionary atonement theology of the next hymn, I was glad to hear the strains of “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” start up. I mentioned that this seems to have become the theme song of Beer and Hymns. My fellow shenanigators agreed and on cue with the rest of the crowd raised their cups when the verse began “here I raise my Ebeneezer.” And why not raise your beer, since who really knows what an Ebeneezer is? Well, it is a rock, or a pile of them as it were. So I couldn't resist commenting that perhaps the beer raised needs to be Rolling Rock (which would keep me from ever raising an Ebeneezer I'm sorry to say). At this point, a latecomer now seated in the back pew tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see him make that palm down that gesture that cops use to tell you slow down. I couldn't believe it, I had become the fidgety kid kicking the pew and I had successfully upset the status quo. The status quo at the WILD Goose?!?!?! Anger kept me from an appropriate engagement so I packed my things and left to ruminate.

How could the Wild Goose Festival at the tender age of five already have become so pinched up and buttoned down that singing hymns “like you've never done it before” has been replaced by the seven last words of the church: “we've never done it that way before”? OK Ian, breathe. (Funny how breath both calms and is also the very thing used to represent the Holy Agitator.) Yes, this was one person, expressing one opinion, I get that. It is the symptom to contain the uncontainable that worries me. I am not unaware of the irony that I am an ordained minister who is authorized by a mainline institution, which by definition is resistant to change, particularly the sort of change that may lead to the demise of the institution. But let's face facts, the Convergence that we are seeing at events like the Wild Goose is what most of us would agree is what we think the resurrection of the church is looking like. If we are truly to be believers in resurrection then we must fully embrace the one prerequisite, death. We have to let go of the expectation that our old ways are sufficient to carry us into the new paths before us. And heaven help us if our imagination is so limited that all we can create to replace old institutions are new ones.

But I am far from being without hope. In fact, this shoulder-tapping incident was little more than a road sign urging caution on the Wild Goose chase of the Holy Spirit leading me into places where we may not go on our own. It was a reminder that wild truly equals wild, there can be no taming in the name of God. It was a reminder that if you find God in a box that you can rest assured that you put God there. While my mellow was indeed harshed in that moment, there were far too many other moments that stirred my goose spirit.

• There was the upside-downing of Communion in the Midnight Moonshine Mass with the hint of the outlaw, unsafe feel that the first Jesus followers experienced having to hide to worship and feel the fire burn in their bellies. The “lucky” few who got a tug of the second jar of moonshine can attest to fire of the spirit(s).

• There was the call from Brother John to help him raise an Ebeneezer in the river. Wanting to build an arch from the river stones, he required a partner. We learned to lean, we learned to listen to the stones, we learned to fail...and finally we bridged the gap and enjoyed that special, though fleeting cairn that stood for just a day, hopefully to be resurrected in our Wild Goose spirits.

• There was the Lectio Hoedown that drew me in as I walked down the dusty road. I didn't have a destination that I recall, though it could have been Damascus or Emaus. Regardless, the destination the Goose had in mind was behind a guitar sharing an unnamed melody I have noodled with for a long time that now, apparently is called Psalm 77.

• And there was the parting gift of failure when one Gooser took a turn a tad too wide, perching her car on a rock in a ditch. While a good number of us responded right away with good intentions to help, the one who brought the gift that mattered was the guy who assured us all that in years of off-roading he had put many a car in similarly difficult positions. It was the gift he gained from those failures that birthed the wisdom to solve this problem.

And there were far, far more moments that soothed or stirred my spirit in those four festival days. I pray that they are eggs that will hatch many wild goslings for me in the days to come. Most of all, since the Way is through the wild places, I pray that I won't seek to tame, nor accept when others tame, the Way. We must all accept that in the re-wilding that is required we may get goosed along the way!

Sacred Cows, Slippery Slopes and Corneliuses

Somewhere deep in the bowels of Boston on an inbound Green Line train over two decades ago l slaughtered a sacred cow. At the time I was a student at Gordon-Conwell Theological seminary but I was returning from a class at Boston College taught by the noted feminist theologian Rosemary Radford Ruether. Obviously, I was exploring beyond the prescribed boundaries of Evangelicalism. I had already been questioning the connection between conservative theology and conservative politics. Now I was staring down the sacred cow of inerrancy. I knew that the belief that the Bible is the inspired word of God, free from error was a foundational tenet of Evangelicalism. My doubts had been sending the sacred cow out to pasture but now was the time to cut the ties. I understood that my Evangelical beliefs had painted me into a corner. Believing that the Bible accurately recorded God's instructions to kill innocent women and children during the conquest of the Promised Land pushed me to an irreconcilable moral dilemma, forcing me to choose between a divine book and divine love. Accepting the idea that the Bible is a book of human rather than divine origin allowed me to continue in relationship with a loving God while accepting that the victors write the history, soetimes using the excuse "God made me do it."

For many Evangelicals today, the trigger issue that threatens to undo their view of scripture is homosexuality. There are wonderful resources providing scholarly interpretation of the handful of verses that touch on the topic, so I won’t cover that ground here. Rather, I want to reach out to Evangelicals worried that a change in their stance on homosexuality will necessarily mean a wholesale change in their understanding of scripture. For those who fear that the only option is the  slippery slope slide away from rock solid doctrine that I took  I have two things to say. One, it is definitely possible to hold the belief that homosexuality is not a sin while simultaneously believing that the Bible is inerrant. Two, the journey down the slippery slope is filled not only with fear but also with freedom. I’ll take the issues in reverse order. 

I understand that to question one part is to question the whole. While I found liberation in embracing the path of questioning, I get it that every answer provides only temporary comfort since it also leads to new questions. Thus freedom from constrictive answers is also a loss of assurance. Those of us swimming in the deep end of free exploration find it easy to call out, "come on in, the water's fine," but what those standing on the shore really want to hear from us is that we are trained in lifesaving. Or more likely, they want their own personal lifesaver. For isn't that one of the best gifts from that branch of Christianity-"blessed assurance, Jesus is mine"? But what I want you on the shore to hear is that one gift from the deep end is the blessed assurance that we can never swim beyond the reach of the lifesaver because the power resides inside us. And when we feel weak thank God the power resides also in the other swimmers. 

Those others are a big part of why I believe that it is possible to remain Evangelical while accepting and affirming the LGBT community. The recent revelation by Tony Campolo that he now believes that homosexuality is not a sin is living proof of this possibility. And I think I can tap into my own Evangelical roots well enough to make the case that the story of the vision that Peter has in Acts 10 supports that position. Peter is struggling with the idea of sharing the gospel with an “unclean” Gentile when he has the vision of being offered unclean animals to eat. He is naturally offended at the very thought of it but eventually understands that God’s word to him is that no animal made by God is unclean. Peter then draws the obvious conclusion that neither is any human unclean. Christians of all stripes have no problem understanding this story as part of a justification for no longer keeping kosher laws, so why should we not also understand that it means that homosexuality should no longer be considered an abomination? Granted, Peter meeting Cornelius pushed him out of his comfort zone. He had to abandon the assurance of old laws that Christ had fulfilled and/or abolished. It is normal to want to be surrounded by people who think (and even look) like you. Homogeneous culture does not have to lead to rejection of those who are different, but sadly it does regularly entail just that for the sake of maintaining the status quo. So if you are going to start walking the talk that the good news of salvation is meant for every person, you may need to take some initiative in finding your Cornelius. My advice to my Evangelical sisters and brothers is to take the risk of building accepting relationships with LGBT folks. You don’t need to be affirming from the start, though trust that God can show you the way there. Many people are already at this halfway point, stuck in a “love the sinner, hate the sin” dilemma. Keep listening, both to the quiet voice of God in you and the way that God speaks through this other beloved child. It will be uncomfortable to be sure. But if we are going to learn how to live as the one grand united yet amazingly diverse Body of Christ, we are going to have to spend a lot of time getting to know the Corneliuses who may be nothing like anyone we have ever met before. And thank God for that.

Two Freds and the Nones

The largest affiliation among 20-somethings today is no affiliation at all. The

term nones has been used to group these folks who are choosing "none of the above." The number one reason that this group names for their choice of non-affiliation is that the church is judgmental and the primary place they see that judgmentalism in action is in the opposition to homosexuality. 

This week saw the passing of the personification of this hateful practice, Fred Phelps. For more than two decades, he spewed vile vitriol against his homosexual neighbors. Although his practice was to protest high-profile funerals in hopes of drawing attention, I saw only a few comments on my Facebook feed calling to protest his funeral. For the most part, people agreed that it was tempting to make signs that say "God Hates Fred," but in the end it would be wrong to lower ourselves to his level. Remarkably, the more common sentiment I saw was a call to prayer for and forgiveness of Fred Phelps. Among my clergy colleagues, if they expressed an opinion at all, it was this one. There was an ironic sadness in watching what judgmentalism there was coming from some who rejected church for that very reason while simultaneously watching the church practice true love of enemy.

It caused me to wonder what it would take to get the nones to see that there is a good portion of the church that preaches love of neighbor, even the gay ones, and is regularly trying to live out that love. I wondered if there might be a partial answer buried in the another irony. The day of Fred Phelps' death was the birthday of a very different Fred, Fred Rogers. This Fred was better known to the world as Mister Rogers, the man who consistently taught a couple of generations about loving our neighbors. What fewer people know is that this second Fred was the Reverend Mr. Rogers. Not only did the Presbyterian church ordain him, the ministry that they ordained him to was Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. Yes, the church was wise enough to bless the work of teaching children how to be kind and gentle, while not needing to package it in religious terms or contain it within church walls. The church continues to hold that wisdom today, and also continues not to make a big deal about. Perhaps that is the problem, far too much attention is far too quickly given to a hate-mongering Fred who labels his sinfulness the work of the church, while a saintly Fred is rarely understood to be the face of the church being loving in the world.

I believe that God is so much larger than any ideas we can use to try to define and contain the divine. I do believe that closest thing to a complete definition of God is in the simple statement, "God is love." That truth leaves no place for Fred Phelps' claims that God hates. God hates no one. God does not even hate Fred Phelps. God's love for him, now that he has died may be seen in judgment. If so, then I picture that judgment scene this way:

As Fred Phelps approaches the gates of judgment, he sees Saint Peter, who tells him to enter a room where he will be judged. He opens the door and seated at a table on which sits a birthday cake is Fred Rogers. Mister Rogers says, "Hello neighbor, I've been waiting for you. Will you come sit with me for a while? I'd like to talk."

"Are you serious? Why would you want to talk with me? I picketed at your funeral for heaven's sake!"

"Well, I doubt that it was for heaven's sake, but I still want to talk. Please, sit down and have a piece of my cake, it's very delicious."

Then as Fred Phelps sits down with Fred Rogers they begin what will be a very long conversation about the terrible things that he did in his earthly existence. The horror of facing those terrible truths must be a hell as awful as any Dante could imagine. I can't guess how long it will take, but then time is irrelevant in eternity. What I can guess is the outcome...forgiveness.

Why does Fred Phelps deserve forgiveness? He doesn't. No one ever deserves forgiveness, it is always the gift of the one doing the forgiving. In this case the forgiveness comes from the one who is love itself, God. If there is anything that God hates it is sin, not the sinner, and I'm not even sure that there is room at all for hate inside perfect love. I pray that Fred Phelps has now learned the truth that God loves everyone, a truth he can only learn by learning first the truth that God loves Fred Phelps.

Promoting the Darkwood Brew message

 If Darkwood Brew can move into the top 25 on this list by Sunday, more people will be exposed to the message we are trying to spread.  Simply clicking on the arrow in the lower left corner below the DWB logo will "vote up" the blog.  Thank you very much.

See full list on Listly

Recalculating

A wonderful part of my spiritual journey over the past few years has been my increasing involvement with Darkwood Brew and in particular the ability to engage with the sharp mind of Eric Elnes.  He has helped me both to find a label that fit where I am on the journey (post-Liberal) and also to challenge it.  In an interview by Christian Piatt, Eric suggests that labels describing where we have been are insufficient to describe where we are.  He has been consistently using an Exodus metaphor of tribes of refugees in the wilderness to describe the Convergence that is happening.  If you aren't familiar with what he's been saying read the the blog at Sojourner's first then come back.  I'll wait.

Hey, thanks for coming back.  

Part of my experience at the Wild Goose Festival this year was telling my story and hearing others tell their stories about where they've been and how they got into this wilderness where we are converging.  That caused me to develop a modified version of the Exodus metaphor for Convergence that goes something like this:

There were a number of tribes in bondage in the land of exile.  Among them were those called Evangelical and those called Liberal.  The sad truth was that the bondage was self-inflicted.  When some of the Evangelicals realized this, they left for the Promised Land knowing that that would mean a long trek across the wilderness.  These post-Evangelicals were most severely criticized by that part of their tribe that stayed behind.  Those who stayed behind believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that the only way to be truly free was to remain shackled to beliefs about the way to read scripture and judgments about sexuality even if that came at the cost of limiting their response to God's call to do justice.  They made sure that the post-Evangelicals knew it and that they would pay a price for their bold push to new understandings.  Thus while some paid the price of lost jobs and status to seek the Promised Land, others remained locked within closets of silence though they knew the path they were called to walk.

Similarly some Liberals longed for the passion of knowing God and understood that God's Spirit is like a wild goose: untamed and unpredictable, yet calling us to leaps of faith.  They remembered that there was a baby in the bath water that was thrown out when the tribe chose to stop looking to the scriptures for inspiration and quit leaving room for mystery.  The price post-Liberals paid in leaving their tribe behind was disdain and pity from those who clung to the crumbling institutions for their salvation.

As these two tribes have begun to meet and exchange the gifts of what each has brought along that the other lacked, they are also discovering that they have not been alone in the wilderness.  There are also those Charismatic free spirits who have always been open to the wild, unpredictable movement of the Spirit.  There are also those who always understood that structures like liturgy and doctrine are more spacious than rigid thus always have room for mystery.  The fact is that there have always been desert dwellers who are now welcoming the self-freed refugees from the former tribes.  Some found the wilderness not because they rejected or were rejected by religious institutions but because their life journeys, either through painful events or intentional exploration brought them here.

And now, regardless of prior path, a new tribe of Wild Goose Christians is forming with the understanding that they will best find the Promised Land together.  Of course, these wanderers are those who appreciate that the journey is the destination.  They also understand that they make the path by walking it.  In this new Exodus they hear the voice of Jesus teaching them that God dwells not simply among them, but in them.  There will be no flame nor pillar to lead them.  God will not be dwelling in a Tabernacle that the people will carry, God is dwelling in the people. Therefore they must look within and to each other to find direction.

In this new Exodus there is a gentle computer-generated voice speaking from a built-in GPS unit.  As the tribe moves along the way this voice confirms the path and when they are lost it simply says "recalculating."  As with all GPS units, there is no judgment.  The voice doesn't scold or correct, it simply recalculates.  There are many paths to the Promised Land and there is also much room to wander, so recalculating is more the rule than the exception.

And those who have chosen to remain in bondage also hear the voice of the GPS constantly repeating "recalculating" though they alternately ignore and explain it away.  One of the challenges for the Wild Goose Tribe is to find ways to help the ones left behind in bondage to free themselves.  

We can't promise them soft landings for it is likely that they don't exist, this is a wilderness we are in after all. But even though we are not yet in the Promised Land (and if we are to learn from history, odds are that we won't be the generation that gets there) we do know that the wilderness is better than the bondage.  Thus we have an obligation to speak truth to power and call out to Pharaoh to let our people go.  Or more accurately, we need to speak the truth in love to our tribal kinfolk that they are their own Pharaoh's and they should break the shackles and join us in the wilderness.

Our New Testament Best

©2013 Scott Griessel/Creatista

My Wild Goose journey began last year at the festival where I spent most of my time quite intentionally seeking encounters with Evangelical and Charismatic Christians in order to begin the healing of my past where I had rejected my connection to each of those streams of Christianity. The experience was powerful and transformative. It was also the point I started my personal journey into Convergence Christianity since it was there that I “met” Eric Elnes, Scott Griessel and Dinah Gomez of Darkwood Brew three dimensionally (they having been two-dimensional acquaintances previously). It has been liberating tojump into the flow of the wild spirit of God moving among people moving beyond labels. My deepening involvement in Darkwood Brew (including a sabbatical trip to Omaha to peek behind the curtain) has helped to frame that exploration and at this year's Wild Goose Festival opened avenues for conversation.

One gift of experiencing a second Wild Goose Festival is the hindsight to see how the Wild Goose spirit has been alive in my journey between festivals. One prime example is seeing my friend Kimberly Knight bravely encounter a theological foe in Billy Humphrey and come away with a personal encounter that didn't change either one's position but left both of them genuinely loving the other. The day before I left for this year's festival I received my copy of the new Daniel Amos CD that includes a song with the lyrics, “Could take an eye for an eye, drown in a big blood bath; That fast (Crash!) and baby, we’re a sad aftermath, but we thought better of it. Our love had mercy on us. We got dressed in our New Testament best and thought better of it.” Looking forward to seeing Kimberly and the author of those words, Terry Scott Taylor, I set off for North Carolina expecting to meet lots of folks dressed up in their New Testament best.

I met Kimberly just as she was arriving with a group of folks who had traveled with her from Atlanta. When I commended (OK, shilled) the Darkwood Brew DVD on homosexuality and the Bible I had the odd experience of having push back from her friends fearing I was part of a group who might use the Bible to bash. They clearly didn't see that I was dressed in my New Testament best and forgot the over-the-top warm greeting Kimberly and I had exchanged (they can be forgiven for not knowing that I was the officiant at Kimberly and LeAnn's wedding in Second Life). By the time I had this encounter I was already well into my experience of this year's festival, which had a different tone to it for me. I was a wandering ambassador for Darkwood Brew in particular and Convergence Christianity in general. This year, as I encountered post-Evangelicals I was enthusiastically sharing the story of my journey from Evangelical-attacking-Liberals to Liberal-attacking-Evangelicals to post-Liberal-big-tent-joyful-Convergent-Christian. As much as this was a counterpoint to the healing that began a year before, it was also a good news gift I was able to offer to those who cared to listen.

Thankfully, many did care to listen, and that's saying something since my come on was an infomercial-worthy pitch for a punch card for coffee at the Darkwood Brew tent (complete with a “but wait, there's more!”). Even though I sold a good number of the cards, I was a pretty big failure as a salesman since after I sealed the deal I would launch into marvelous conversations with my new found friends. There was not one of these conversations that was negative, a fact that filled me with great hope for the future of the church. Sadly, not everyone got the memo, as evidenced by the attack piece written by the Institute on Religion & Democracy in the American Spectator. It reminded me that there is a price to be paid when exploring changes or possibly leaving one's tradition. It gave me a deeper respect for those coming to the Wild Goose from the right, knowing that it may be costing them something. 

Will, Brandan & Troy

 One of my happiest encounters this year was tracking down (don't believe them when they call it stalking) Brandan Robertson, Troy Medlin and Will Eastham of the Revangelical Podcast and Blog. Not only were they having fun and fun to be with, they seemed to appreciate hearing my long-winded telling of my personal journey (even though I offered to get off my soap box multiple times) receiving it as a gift. I know that they face the possibility of not being able to continue the paths to ministry they have begun because of their challenging of doctrine, yet they continue to be filled with hope and bear it with a smile. Their faith is contagious, their return gift to me and to all the people of God.

Terry Scott Taylor

Throughout the festival, my Darkwood Brew shirt gave me the confidence to feel qualified to approach speakers and leaders (my problem, not theirs, as the festival is truly a great equalizer). Still, I committed one act of unadulterated fanboy stalking. I brought my copy of that Daniel Amos CD I had just received as well as the liner notes from my 1981 Alarma! cassette (Google it youngins) for Terry Scott Taylor to sign. When I saw him arrive prior to the Lost Dogs performance I didn't let the semi-secluded “green room” stop me from sitting next to him for a 20 minute talk about his career. Listening again to his music that I had listened to in college, I realized that he had been preaching a message of God as love instead of God as judge during his entire career. Songs like I Love You #19 and Hit Them (I hit them too hard. I did it with a book. He had to take another look when I hit them with love) were swimming upstream against the Christian Music message of the time. Talking with Terry I learned that he faced opposition from the Evangelical mega-church establishment of the 80's when he resisted being simply a tool for evangelism (he was kind enough not to call it proselytizing) instead choosing to be an artist giving his best for God. That conversation helped me to realize that the seeds of my current belief system were planted way back then as part of his musical witness.

The Wild Goose of the Holy Spirit has been honking in the distance for a long time. I'm so happy to now be among the many who have been chasing the call. Won't you put on your New Testament best and join us?

A Wild Goose in the Clouds

Traveling through Virginia on my way to Hot Springs, North Carolina for the Wild Goose Festival the landscape was alternately marked by remembrances of war and crosses. Nearly every one of the early exits pointed to the site of some Civil War battlefield. The ones that didn't included the homes of war generals and the national D-Day Memorial. Then there was the museum dedicated to the history of the army with assault helicopters and tanks littering the lawn along the highway. The numerous crosses along the way that ranged from actual size to mammoth provided a counterpoint that was surprisingly not comforting. Instead of the clearly intended message of God's victory, I instead couldn't help thinking about the victim of that extremely cruel implement of torture and the humans who used it to kill Jesus. My perspective was influenced by the fact that it was August 6, the anniversary of the day the United States dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima. The words of one of the crew of the Enola Gay later recorded in his diary echoed in my soul as I rolled down Interstate 81, “My God, what have we done?”

At my destination, the weather was overcast, but that didn't prevent identifying an unseen Canada Goose as it honked its way across the sky over my head. That got me thinking about the way that the Holy Spirit, like a wild goose, shows up unseen but clearly present, clearly moving, clearly calling us on even through the clouds. If I continued to focus on the harm we humans are capable of and the potential for inflicting suffering that we possess then I will remain too heavy to fly to the places God is calling me. The Wild Goose Festival is a gathering of a tribe that in many ways doesn't know it even is a tribe yet. I know that my time here will be filled with inspiration that many presenters have come to impart as well as reconnecting with some of the people I have previously met on this journey. It will also be a time when I can share the joys and struggles of my story as an invitation to others to glean from it anything that is useful to them. And though I cannot say what the encounters or who the people will be that will become revelations to me of the presence of the Wild Goose, I am equally sure that that will happen. That is the manner in which faith assures us of God's presence in the world. If we are to be Christ's body in the world today we must expect that God is to be found in the other and that we each are a vital, integral part, so be better be fully who God made each of us to be.

So that also means that the good folks of the Commonwealth of Virginia who still study war or who plant huge crosses in their fields are part of this broken body of Christ that we need to re-member. The Wild Goose Festival is just a start. This glorious feeling we get in knowing the blessing of coming together despite our past differences and even coming to celebrate the diversity of opposites members that make for a complete body is the fuel needed to complete the work set before us by our wild and loving God. May we be those people we know we can be and be the builders of the reign of God on earth as it is in heaven. May we some day behold that fully alive, resurrected body of Christ animate by the love we share and show and be able to transform the lament of “my God, what have we done?” into the celebration, “our God, look what we have done!”

Living Convergence

I saw another casting of this breath-taking 13 foot sculpture today in downtown Omaha, Nebraska at the summer arts festival. I had a wonderful conversation with the artist, Lorri Acott, about origami cranes, LGBT rights, the Adam and Eve story, how artists serve society in a way similar to pastors and the power of love to transform the world.  Not bad for a random conversation with a stranger.  It was everything I want church to be: connectional, transformative, inspirational and convergent.  It was church beyond walls.

I'm into my second day of a sabbatical visit to Omaha, where I will be hanging out and helping out at Darkwood Brew. I'm honored and excited to get a chance to be present in the flesh at this wonderful ministry that I've been a virtual part of for a long time now. In fact, this Sunday I will be on the other side of the camera with a few minutes to talk about what I'm looking for on this sabbatical and they may even let me read the Pneuma Divina passage.  If you haven't checked out Darkwood Brew yet all I can do is invite you to this place where ancient mystical practice meets modern interactive web technology, world class jazz and you never know what might happen.  If you have checked it out then you will know the truth of that description. The reason you don't know what will happen is because despite the large amount of behind the scenes work that goes into it (more of which I will be seeing in the coming days) things will always go in the direction that the ever-welcome "wild goose" of God's Holy Spirit wants them to go.  When the Spirit blows in connection, transformation, inspiration and convergence happen.

The interactive technology of Darkwood Brew encourages connectivity between participants, but on a larger scale, there is also a call to connectivity as a means of addressing the ills that surround us due to disconnection.  In a recent series about caring for creation, the lack of connection with the creation of which we are a part by God's design was a point regularly made.  And surely if we are ever to see a healing peace in the world, true shalom, then we need to keep connecting with people who see the world differently than ourselves and that happens regularly through the guests who are interviewed on the show.  The topics addressed on Darkwood Brew are not for the timid, they are edgy (perhaps pushy better captures it) with an intent to transform.  The current series is a great example with guest Frank Shaeffer channeling the cranky prophet Amos and the art of the uncomfortable truth.  In an always inspirational act, each episode ends with a call to a shared meal at the table, an act of holy communion adapted to realities of the type of gathering that interactive technology allows.  Put all that in a big bowl, stir and you have Convergence.

Convergence is not a goal as much as it is a movement.  As a birdwatcher, I know what it means to observe in order to draw a conclusion that leads to a positive identification.  Sometimes the identification is not all that sure and sometimes that is because it is a species not seen before.  Convergence is a new species, making it hard to identify, but the observant (those with eyes to see and ears to hear) are noticing its appearance.  And many are welcoming it.  Convergence is also not simply an ideal to be admired.  I am convinced that is something to be lived.  Convergence is a lifestyle.  It is finding connection with the other, bringing to the connection the inspiration of the holy that each channels and expecting transformation.  It is incarnational, for it is enfleshing through your own living that spirit that gives us all life.  Once you accept the fact that the magnitude and the power of God's Spirit is beyond anything that any of us can grasp, then you are at a point to let go of the limiting thoughts that bind and separate and begin living Convergence.  You may find the transformation (or even the prospect of it) too uncomfortable to desire.  As the motto of Darkwood Brew goes, you may not like it.  But then again, it may be a cure to the dis-ease rampant in the church and society and it might fill you with inspired hope.  You might just like it.

Green Tea Party

On this past week's episode of Darkwood Brew, Frank Shaeffer stumbled over his words a bit during his spot on rant about the Culture Wars and created the fictional Green Tea Party.  A number of us in the chat room picked up on it and got to considering the possibility.  I am registered to vote in Massachusetts with the political designation of Green Rainbow Party, so I am both already a part of half of this fictional party and sadly aware of the limitations of merger names.  When the Green Party and Rainbow Coalition chose to merge in Massachusetts they ultimately chose the unfortunate name of Green Rainbow.  Even on Saint Patrick's Day in Southie, I defy you to find a green rainbow.  On the other hand, Green Tea Party has a nice ring to it and hints of the sort of open minded coalition building that is so desperately needed in our nation today.

As a political and social progressive, I am often about as far left as one can get on many issues.  Interestingly, the far right of Libertarianism at times comes to hold very similar positions, albeit for very different reasons.  Pat Buchanon opposed NAFTA, not for the labor rights and environmental reasons that I did, but does that mean that we couldn't work together on the issue?  Ron Paul is no pacifist, but he and I agree that our troops should not be involved in foreign wars.  Could we not envision political solutions to complicated issues that involve such strange bedfellows as those who would be in a Green Tea Party?

It is so frustrating to find opposition based solely on political affiliation not position.  I had heard (sorry I can't find a citation at the moment) about a study that showed that conservatives would be willing to buy energy saving products if marketed to save money but not if they would save the environment.  This is just one issue that clearly has lots of room for both sides to be happy if they can accomplish the same things for different reasons.

It is even possible to find similar agreement on hotly contested moral issues.  Pro-choice advocates  would not be upset by a reduction of abortions by means of more adoptions, so why should pro-lifers oppose a move to increase funding for foster care and adoption services?  Sadly, bills in Congress designed to do just that have been defeated along staunch partisan lines.  This sort of thing only goes to prove that this issue is designed to be used as a wedge to serve partisan politics not truly advancing the professed cause.

Can we start moving in the direction of convergence?  It is my great hope that the church can lead the way for the culture this time.  I've blogged previously on what I see happening in the church where post-Evangelicals and post-Liberals are finding each other and common ground.  Since the Culture Wars started due to church influences, perhaps the truce can start here as well.  Surely I'm not the only Culture Hawk who has become a Culture Dove!

Take the Gun Out of Jesus' Hand

When The National Rifle Association executive vice president Wayne LaPierre blames the violence being peddled as entertainment as a contributing factor to the mass casualty shootings we have seen, I must agree.  When he points to our woeful lack of services for mentally ill people as another factor, I again agree.  But my agreement ends with his statement, ‘‘the only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.’’

I know that what I am about to say will make me sound like a fool, in fact, I was called an idiot and accused of having "sissy sensibilities" for saying what one person called the stupidest thing he had ever heard when I suggested that what truly stops a bad guy with a gun is the truth.  Yes, I know that the truth won't keep me alive if I am shot, but I do believe that it will save my life. Because I don't believe that the highest good to be defended is life, I believe that the highest good, the one thing I will not abandon is love.  If I must return violence on violence in order to know peace, then, logically, I have not found peace, even if the violence stops.  When Jesus said to love our enemies, I don't believe that he meant that we could somehow love them while continuing to kill them.  When an armed mob came to take Jesus, he not only didn't defend himself (with an army of angels no less, sort of the ultimate arsenal) he chastised Peter for attempting to do so.  He reminded Peter that those who live by the sword die by the sword.  It is true, that the swordless also die, often first, but Jesus not only told us that laying down our lives for others was the greatest love, he led by example.

Sadly, we too often save such idealistic rhetoric for Sundays alone and come Monday pragmatism and patriotism put the gun in Jesus' hand justifying killing for the sake of saving others.  While sound moral arguments may be made for violence on behalf of protecting the innocent and even self-defense, all I'm saying is that Jesus would never pull that trigger.  A single episode of table-flipping rage is far from sufficient to offset the rest of Jesus' teaching and example.  We have the Second Amendment because we extrapolated from the experience of the armed underdog winning a bloody revolution against the greatest military power on the planet that democracy could be purchased in blood, effectively that might makes right (since it is the victors who write the history...and the constitution).  This current round of angst about the availability of guns has opened my eyes to the tragic realization that the Second Amendment is quite possibly all about the fear factor: the citizenry need to remain armed to the teeth in order to balance the threat that government's army poses.  If that is indeed a legitimate interpretation, then I am ready to work for its repeal for I don't want a democracy that relies on an equilibrium of fear instead the power of truth in ideas.

The marriage of a twisted version of the Christian story with the American ethos has existed since our nation's founding when we accepted that the genocide of the native peoples because we were God's chosen people, the new Israel, we had a Manifest Destiny.  We Americans have a deep seated belief in the power of redemptive violence.  It is just as Mr. LaPierre states, the bad guys with guns (or bows and arrows) were stopped by the good guys with guns.  Good guys with guns brought justice to the Wild West at the end of a barrel. Even today when we execute foreign policy through killing we talk about brave soldiers defending our rights by killing others even when those others pose no viable threat to our rights. And if our schools become veritable prisons or worse, become Dodge City full of gun-toting teachers, then we may have freedom only in an Orwellian sense.

Instead of being a voice raised in lament crying out for peace, the church has instead played a supporting role in the violence by providing theological underpinnings for redemptive violence.  When Jesus' death is seen as paying the price for all of us, it is easy to assume that the price (death) is set by a God who allows compassion to be trumped by a cold calculating form of justice that demands an exchange.  What would we say of a father who requires the death of his own son to forgive a debt?  Wouldn't we expect an all powerful and all loving God simply to forgive the debt without the blood?  Thankfully, theologians do struggle with describing the atonement accomplished on the cross in other ways than this barbaric substitution.  I understand the crucifixion as the work of humans not of God.  We are the ones incapable of overcoming evil with good.  We are the ones that trust violence over love.  But God's work in the death of Jesus is to take away the victory by raising him to new life. 

May we find the strength to place our faith in that hope.  May we be fools for God by choosing to believe that love is more powerful than anything else in the entire universe.  May we come to accept the hard truths taught by Jesus about love and forgiveness.  May we learn to turn the other cheek...and take the gun out of Jesus' hand.

Dogma, Doctrine and Sangama

The recent article by NY Times columnist, Ross Douthat proclaiming the impending death of the liberal church has sparked a lively response. Notably, Diana Butler Bass replied with numbers that argue that the entire church is in a dive with the left wing being the first to droop. But she also proclaims the good news that a new Great Awakening is in the offing. As a former Evangelical and a former liberal (more on that below) I have seen the decline from different angles with different lenses. But since I believe in resurrection I affirm that death has lost its power, so I accept death that makes way for life, and I believe that new life is indeed emerging.

The first thing that I hope will die is the false dichotomy of left and right. I don't believe that the divide is purely theological. Bass laments that too often our only choice in church is between “intelligence on ice or ignorance on fire.” Shifting the focus to the balance between head and gut gets closer to the heart of the matter. Prescribing specific beliefs that must be held in black or white starkness while maintaining a strict behavioral code does have its appeal. It feels good to know that in arguments you can be certain that you are right and as distasteful as it is, feeling holier than thou does feel good. You likely read that sentence with “the other” in mind, I know that I am tempted to do that all the time. But there is the problem. Both left and right can can be cold and stark in expectations. For the purpose of discussion, let's call this dogma; holding the belief that questioning certain beliefs is a questionable act. Evangelicals risk the dogmatism of reading the Bible in only one way that can only be understood correctly when God provides the insight. When liberals dogmatically support the cause du jour through peer pressure to always do justice they risk becoming a mile wide but only an inch deep. The other element to consider is doctrine. For this discussion that will mean any belief set, systematic or not, whether comprehensive or just an isolated piece. While Evangelicals are more likely to risk turning doctrine into dogma, Liberals too often have been overcautious around doctrine to the point that they risk having none. So while it may be true that left will benefit by adding more gut and the right more head, the real shift that I think I am seeing is a move from dogmatism toward a passionate and multi-doctrinal spirituality.

I spent many years in ministry to homeless and and hungry people based in a church. We were clear that there would be no religious litmus test for our services and that we wouldn't require anyone in need to be subjected to pressure to believe what we believed. We were motivated by our doctrine, putting our faith into action, but we resisted dogma. We also couldn't do it alone, so we regularly put out the call to the community for assistance. We found that it didn't matter if a person was a fundamentalist charismatic, an unabashed pagan or raging atheist, they all were compelled by their diverse beliefs to show kindness to neighbors in need. I also learned in that time that our very different faiths could find no way to worship together through seeking the least common denominator since we had so little in common. On the other hand, when we learned to welcome the diverse expressions of our deeply held faiths we had rich common experiences. The lesson learned is that diverse doctrines can lead to unity but exclusive dogma will always divide. And now it is the practices of acceptance and doing justice in the world that are leading Evangelicals into post-Evangelicalism and liberals into post-liberalism and together joining in what Eric Elnes calls Convergence Christianity.

Take the issue of homosexuality as an example. There are post-Evangelicals who are finding that they don't have to abandon the doctrine of the inerrancy of scripture in order to follow Jesus in abandoning judgment. There are post-liberals who are passionately proclaiming the scriptural call to radical hospitality. In worship, post-liberals are embracing creative arts and expression in new ways and post-Evangelicals are more engaged with questions. The great secret that we had forgotten is that especially around issues of ethical practice we have always had more in common than we liked to admit when we were defining ourselves in opposition to the other. We must abandon, as Chris Heuertz says, our false centers. When we define the so-called other by how they differ from us we place ourselves at the center and the person or group described at the margins. We must acknowledge the truth that Christ alone is at the center and that we all share the margins. We all benefit from less certainty and more humility.

The use of the past tense may be prematurely optimistic, yet some of us are feeling the Holy Spirit like a wild goose moving among us now in this way. Convergence Christianity is like the confluence of two great rivers. When a confluence occurs between two strong rivers they may flow together for miles in the new river still distinguishable as the mingling to create the new takes place. Perhaps it is a temperature difference that makes one bit of water flow over the other, or salinity or turbidity or any number of factors. It is clear that the post-Evangelical and post-liberal tributaries off the Evangelical and liberal rivers are nothing if not strong and very different. So we may be so strongly within the tradition we are flowing out of that we don't recognize that we are rushing side-by-side with the other tradition as we converge into an emerging Christianity that is God's way of helping us all to be more spiritual and less religious (at least in the way we have been). Hindus have long understood the power of confluence, which they call Sangama. The point of confluence of three rivers, called a Triveni Sangam, is a holy place where one bathes to remove sins. One such Triveni Sangam, in Allahabad has two physical rivers Ganges, Yamuna, and the invisible or mythic Saraswati River. Perhaps we will learn the wisdom of welcoming an unseen river in our confluence, welcoming the Holy Spirit to co-mingle among us that Jesus' prayer may become real among us, “that they all may be one.”

The Death of the Prodigal Son

What if the story of the prodigal son had a different ending? What if when the younger son came home the father said to him “you are dead to me.” Would it still be a story of redemption and salvation? Yes it would. But, you object, the younger son would then have nothing, complete and abject poverty and no family and no hope of help, how can that be salvation? The exile that the younger son experienced, he brought on himself. He was separated from his true self, the one who was son and brother, loved and cared for. He instead chose to leave all that in order to get what he thought he wanted. Maybe he even thought he would find himself in all of the sex and drugs and rock & roll. And perhaps he did. He found rock bottom, complete exile, total emptiness. How is that a gift? It is a gift because of what happened for him at the end of the journey; he came to himself. When he came to himself, he began a new journey, the journey home where he offered his confession of sin. And THAT was his redemption and salvation. He gave himself the gift of removed burden by simply putting it down. He gave himself the gift restored relationship by putting himself in the position where he restored the part of the relationship that he could, his. He came to himself, he looked in the mirror and saw the truth, and ugly as it was, he accepted it...and found his salvation.

Whose God Is It Anyway?

If I were watching football now it would be the Chelsea-Sunderland match I recorded this morning and have yet to watch, not the American version featuring the clash between the hometown team and that guy who likes to pray. But that doesn't mean that I'm not part of the 70% of Americans who have heard of Tim Tebow, but I am not part of the 40% who believe that his success is due to divine intervention. Don't get me wrong, I believe that God is involved. God is involved in all of creation and the divine spark lives in every human being, but come on, don't we all know that the success or failure of athletes is way down on God's list of concerns?

I'm not against the fun of cheering for a team (including the good-natured teasing of the opposition, just ask any of my fellow Midnight Riders about my behavior at New England Revolution matches) and I have no problem making light of religion (just show up at my church some year on the Sunday after Easter and you will see that in practice on Holy Humor Sunday) BUT when I heard about Wiccans in Salem invoking gods to neutralize Tebow in today's game I saw it as wrong on many levels. First of all, there is the whole point about the divine even caring, then there is theological problem of believing that the creation and/or the creator could be cajoled to perform the will of the created. There may be fine points to spin on those topics, but more disturbing to me is the idea that we might invoke our brand of divinity to trump the god of the other.

For me to be fully true to my Christian belief in a God who loves all the world I have to believe that the other expressions of devotion to expressions of that love are genuine attempts to find what I am attempting to find. In other words, I don't need (nor do I want) to believe that others are wrong in order for me to be right. I don't believe that my God ever wants me to wish defeat for another. It is wonderful that Tim Tebow thanks God for his successes. I hope that he also thanks God for the opportunity to do what he loves for a living, win or lose. We all should find that divine spark within us and nurture its growth so that we are filled with such love for all that we can live the abundant life that God offers, win or lose.

More Justice Questions

I haven't been blogging here much lately as I've been blogging on the Lord's Prayer for Darkwood Brew, so one of my most recent posts was a reaction to the death of Osama bin Laden. In that case I questioned whether justice was served. Part of the difficulty in questions of justice is defining what justice is. It seemed painfully clear to me that what too many people considered a just outcome was nothing more than revenge or retribution. Although many may argue that retributive justice is the model of how God deals with humanity, I reject that notion. Even though the ancient standard of "an eye for an eye" appears to be divinely instituted, I would argue that it was meant as a limit on the more vicious blood feud tendencies in humanity. It breaks my heart to see that in our reaction to the death even of an enemy, as if somehow a scale has been balanced by a death or even that there is such a scale that God oversees. Why should we find any relief in believing that God is causing another to suffer to bring about some sense of a deficient form of justice?

And that brings us to today's acquittal of Casey Anthony. The immediate response was a sweeping sense of shock and an anger that justice was not served. Isn't it interesting how often justice being served is equivalent to someone being punished? I must admit that my first reaction was "Who?" I avoid popular sensationalist news outlets, so I was only vaguely familiar with the case. In fact, I still only know that Casey Anthony was on trial for the death of her two-year old daughter. I don't know any of the details of how the death occurred. Naturally I'm saddened at the death of a toddler, but I truly don't believe that the taking of another life could do anything constructive to create a more just society. Murderers clearly must be stopped to protect others and there should definitely be consequences for such heinous behavior. But woe to us as a society when we allow the justice system to become trial by popular media. Twelve people were entrusted with the duty of weighing the facts and deciding if they were convinced beyond a reasonable doubt of the defendant's guilt, none of the rest of us should think that we are qualified to render judgment.

I had the privilege of seeing the justice system at work by serving on a jury in a murder trial a couple of years ago. It was gut wrenching work sitting through a couple of weeks of witness testimony and examining evidence. In that trial, a young black man was accused of killing the middle aged white woman he was personal care attendant for. His bloody hand print was found on the wall above her body. It seemed like an open and shut case, aided by the fact that he couldn't afford a lawyer so was represented by a public defender. But there were holes in the story that left me with a doubt that I considered reasonable. I imagine that those who watched the coverage on the local news must have rendered him guilty in the court of public opinion. But I went into the deliberations with my doubt and said so to my fellow jurors. We deliberated for a number of hours and in the end we all agreed that there was enough doubt to acquit. Is it possible that the man committed the crime? Yes, it is. Was justice served? Yes, it was. Justice was served because the system succeeded.

But where is the justice for the victim? This was a question in the death of bin Laden as well. In fact, anytime someone is executed for a murder this question persists. I don't believe in a God who is keeping score and needs to settle it somehow. Even if I did, my faith teaches that God offers grace to wipe out that debt. So if I, who am deserving of death, am let off from the consequences of my behavior then why should I wish that another person should not get the same deal? If you feel anger at the lack of punishment for Casey Anthony because you believe that she is guilty, then you have a lot of questions to ask yourself about what you think the justice system is designed to do. I'm willing to allow potentially guilty parties escape punishment due to reasonable doubt because I want the principle of reasonable doubt to apply to me should I ever be falsely accused. I'm also willing to let go of my sense of what is appropriate punishment and leave the judgment to God alone because I likewise want to be judged solely by God, not by others. I trust that these choices are the ones that pave the path of peace and help me to fully experience grace.

Finally, it is very right to be outraged at the death of a toddler at the hands of another. It is also well beyond time that we all start to express the same sort of outrage at the thousands upon thousands of children who die daily because of the preventable problems of hunger and disease. Until we are so moved that we end their suffering their blood is on all of our hands. God have mercy.

Blest Be the Ties that Bind

You never want to have a reason to have a sign like this outside your church BUT if there is a reason (like the tornado that hit our town) then your church is exactly where you want the sign.

This morning in worship, the congregation broke into applause when I told them what I told the director of emergency services earlier this week. I pointed out that the church was established before the incorporation of Brimfield because it was necessary to have a Meeting House at the center of the community. Now, nearly 275 years later, this same church called me as pastor in part because they wanted someone who would help them go out the doors and serve the community. In the nearly nine years we have ministered together, the church and I have worked to open wide those doors and use what we have to serve the community. Because of this, I was able to say that if the church had done nothing else all these years, it was at least preparing to be present at this moment.

When the decision was made to open the church to serve food and become a hub for coordinating volunteer efforts, I had no doubt that the community would respond. I've seen the divine spark fanned into a powerful fire of the human spirit plenty of times before. I knew that God was present in the people of our church and beyond, so I knew that all we had to do was open the door. The massive flow of donations and volunteers quickly confirmed my faith in the people and the God they serve.

There have been huge stories and small wonders through all of this. The strength of the covenant between people of faith has been been demonstrated in the numerous clergy who have contacted me offering help. Again, to me it is no surprise. But there have also been tales of the miraculous that are jaw-dropping, like the fact that Becky was able to celebrate her birthday today by worshiping with us before helping a family pick through the rubble of what used to be their house. I made it clear in a public proclamation that God has plans for Becky. How could I be so sure? The house that is nothing but debris today was on top of Becky's car on Wednesday. She was rushing to get home when the tornado hit dropping every tree in the area along with ripping this house off its foundation. Photographs after the fact show that the only section of roof on Becky's car not crushed down to the seats is the place where she sat behind the wheel!

The remarkable bond of community shows in the words of the woman who was in that house's basement with her family and spoke to me yesterday when I went up to offer comfort. Ellen pointed out that she does not attend our church, but appreciated what we were doing. How many times do those moments arise when you later think of the perfect response? This was one of those times for me. Fortunately, I was able to rectify that situation when Kim took the prayer shawl that we blessed in our worship today to give to Ellen. I told Kim to tell her that just because she doesn't go to our church doesn't mean that she isn't part of our church.

As important as the church's physical presence is in our community today, I have been recently considering the prospect of how to create a church without walls. One way the wall-less church was visible today was when I headed out to find Jacob. This wise young man had chosen to refrain from receiving Holy Communion until he completed confirmation, even though we welcome children to partake at Christ's table in our church. Only two weeks ago he completed confirmation, becoming a member of our church and thus giving himself permission to receive the Eucharist. Today he chose to worship Christ by finding him where he surely was; in the brokenness of the destruction at the property of one of our church members. I knew that it would not do for Jacob to forgo his opportunity for a first Communion on this particular day. So after the service, I headed out with bread and juice to find him. Along the way I got a call from my wife telling me that a reporter was at the church wanting to talk to me. I was able to say something that any pastor would be proud to say, "Tell her that she will have to wait, serving Communion is more important." When I reached Jacob I was able to know with full confidence that this kid understood the meaning of the Eucharist and joyfully shared with him one of the most memorable sacraments of my ministry.

Finally, the part of the day that brought me the most satisfying emotion was being a Skype guest at Darkwood Brew, being able to receive the very real, nearly palpable virtual embrace of the prayers and concern of people in Omaha and around the world via the Internet. Tears filled my eyes when the people of Countryside Community Church UCC said "We are praying for you, Brimfield." That prayer and the combined strength of the human spirit on display all around me are so much stronger than the EF 3 winds that rained destruction on my town. Thanks be to God.

Was Justice Done?

So what is justice? Is it an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth? Is it a balancing of the scales? Is it the restoration of the status quo prior to the injustice? Or could it be the creation of a state of peaceful coexistence and harmony?

In theory, American justice is the rule of law where even the most heinous criminal is given rights because preserving justice is ultimately much more important than the risk that a guilty person might escape consequences. In practice, American justice sometimes looks like frontier justice where an expression like “he needed killin'” doesn't sound like the absurdity that it is. In the pantheon of villains, Osama Bin Laden is perhaps second only to Adolph Hitler. So when President Obama said about his death, “And on nights like this one, we can say to those families who have lost loved ones to al Qaeda's terror: Justice has been done,” I doubt that many Americans questioned it. If ever there was someone who deserved an extra-judicial execution, surely it was this evil man, right? Tragically, when the President sets himself up as judge, jury and executioner, justice is harmed, not served.

Of course, the argument can be made that this was a war and he was an enemy combatant killed on the battlefield. I'm not expert in military law, so that may be justified. Even if this action is a legitimate act of warfare, I must question its strategic value. Surely the vacuum left by the leader's absence has already been filled. In fact, hasn't the second in command been the leader for some time now anyway? How can this be more than a symbolic action in the war on terrorism at this point? One would think that from the level of euphoria seen on American streets that this war was over, but not one word has been uttered about the end of hostilities and the return of the troops. Sadly, this leads to the conclusion that hunting down and killing Bin Laden had only political motivation. Simply put, this was revenge.

And so we return to the question of whether or not justice was served. Is revenge justice? The death of the one responsible for the deaths of so many does little to balance the scale. Perhaps if I had a loved one who had died because of him I might feel differently, but I doubt it. I find no satisfaction in revenge. I can't see how returning violence for violence and hate for hate brings any comfort or peace to the avenger. Most of the people who lost family on 9/11 whom I've heard interviewed so far have commented on how it feels wrong to celebrate the death of someone, even someone as awful as Bin Laden. There is a reason that it feels wrong...it is.

As a Christian, I don't have an option for violence. If I am to be a true follower of Jesus, I need to love my enemy and pray for those who persecute me. I need to turn the other cheek. I need to return good for evil. I need to leave judgment and any vengeance that there may be to God. If that makes me a fool, so be it. I know it is not a practical way to live in the world, but that is not what is ever promised. History and personal observation confirms that violence is not defeated by violence. In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, "The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

I believe that God's justice is the creation of what our Jewish brothers and sisters call shalom. Shalom is more than peace in the sense of the absence of conflict. It is harmony and balance among all beings. It is a description of what we want heaven to be. God wants to break into our lives with shalom, bringing heaven into the hell that we too often choose to inhabit. People like Bin Laden are so broken that they never open up to this grace and go about creating more hell on earth. Still, the love of God is so vast, so powerful and so persistent that regardless of the hells we find ourselves in (even of our own choosing) there is always hope.

Today I hope for more hearts to open to that love, that we may find shalom.

Holy Week Possibilities: Thursday

So who exactly is this Joseph of Arimathea guy? Leaving a body on a cross for the inevitable, gruesome destruction by predators would have been the desire of the Romans, so Joseph must have had some pull to get the body of Jesus off the cross after only three hours. It makes me wonder about how he came to be a disciple of Jesus, and just what kind of follower he was. He seems to be friends with Nicodemus and perhaps they are both on the Sanhedrin. We hear about Nicodemus coming to Jesus in the night (and returning to the darkness after not being enlightened by the encounter) and are told that he was a follower from afar. I don't imagine Jesus courted friends in high places but that he certainly attracted their attention. That is what we should be doing as disciples today; doing the gospel in ways that attracts attention from the powers that be, not for the sake of the attention but in a way that can't help but be noticed.

I'm also pondering the fact that even at the time the theory that Jesus' body was stolen to fake a resurrection was considered more likely than what the followers claimed. It really is more likely that that is what happened, it really does take the suspension of rational thought to accept the story of a bodily resurrection as factual. I'm not saying that it didn't happen, but I am questioning how important it is for me to believe it. Can't I still find salvation through Christ if Jesus' body was stolen and he remained dead? I'm leaning toward answering "yes," but I'm still pondering. More on that later.

Holy Week Possibilities: Wednesday

Today I return to the question about why the Sanhedrin didn't stone Jesus to throw into the mix that there were a whole lot more people around to stir up because it was Passover. Not only were there more Jews who possibly could riot but also a lot more Romans around to watch them. Matthew tells us that there was a cohort present mocking Jesus and that alone is 600 soldiers. So perhaps those other stonings and beheadings simply were "under the radar" for Pilate.

I'm also intrigued by the the trial. We know that Nicodemus was a supporter of Jesus, apparently making sure that there was a trial. Hmmm, so perhaps there was the intent simply to kill Jesus, but one powerful supporter (or possibly two, if Joseph of Arimathea had influence) was able to force at least a show trial. Maybe the Sanhedrin would have made it look like self defense, killing Jesus at Gethsemane during the arrest. That is always the way with bullies isn't it? Still, the form of trial seems to be that there was no one to defend the accused but the accused. Of course, there is a requirement that two witnesses agree so it is more than one person making a false accusation. In this case truth still loses because two people concur. Actually, they do tell the truth, don't they? They say that Jesus said that he would tear down the temple and in three days rebuild it. It is a prime example of the problem of literalism. Jesus was not talking about the actual temple, but neither was he only talking about his body using the temple as a metaphor. It seems clear that he was talking about replacing the corrupt religious practice of his day with a new path of spirituality. In many ways that is exactly what we should be seeking during this Holy Week now.

Holy Week Possibilities: Tuesday

So what if we really took the parable of the Last Supper seriously? What if we realized every time we took the bread and cup that we are just like the disciples who shared that meal with Jesus? Jesus washed their feet so that they would understand service to others that involves making them clean too. Our instructions are to go out and share this good news. "You are going to hell, repent" is not exactly good news, but "God loves you and wants you to be clean and fed, both physically and spiritually...and I'm hear to help that happen," now THAT'S good news.

And we have this power because we have the Holy Spirit, the divine spark, inside us. Jesus made sure we understood that by taking bread and drink and reminding us that when we take that into us it becomes part of us. So when we decide for God and God's way, we have God inside us. So what are we waiting for? Do you expect something more powerful than God?

As this week goes on I continue to struggle with the sacrifice part of all of this. I have a friend who prepares a vegetarian Seder. I like the idea that the lamb doesn't need to be sacrificed. Is is possible that Jesus argued that point with God, i.e. no more sacrifice? Could it be that like Abraham and Moses that Jesus had the chutzpah to argue with God to change plans? It would be fitting, and it raises interesting possibilities to ponder.

Holy Week Possibilities: Monday

Did Jesus run into trouble because the religion of his day was corrupt? There is no hard evidence in the Bible, but there are hints. Surely the money changers were corrupt, cheating people with unfair exchanges, or at least that is what is implied. But how did the money changers get there in the first place? The religious leaders must have allowed it. Why didn't they police the situation? I can imagine Jesus being irate not only at the money changers but at those with the power in the system who turned a blind eye, or worse. Of course, when you hit someone in the wallet then they will really pay attention, that must have been as true 2000 years ago as it is today.

I've also been wondering about the consequence of angering the authorities for Jesus. It seems that capital punishment was not limited to the Romans during this occupation since the woman caught in adultery was about to be stoned. On top of that, John the Baptist was beheaded without Roman intervention, and Saul had the authority of the Jewish leaders to kill Christians after Jesus' death. So this begs the question, "why didn't the Sanhedrin execute Jesus themselves after convicting him of blasphemy?" My answer is that they were being clever. If they could get Pilate to have him killed then if Jesus' followers rose up in violence it would be against Rome instead of them. If it ended with the followers disbanding then they get what they want anyway. But perhaps there is more at work here. It is interesting to ponder.