Faith From The Heart

In one of my favorite Paul stories, Paul is in Athens and takes some personal time to walk around the city and observe. And he’s rather impressed at what he sees. Clearly the people are very religious. They have altars built in honor of many different gods. But he is particularly intrigued by one altar which states simply, “To an unknown God”. Later, he points this altar out to the people and says, “The unknown God you refer to here, that’s the true God, the God of all. But don’t think you can confine this God by your little altar. This God will blow all your preconceptions to pieces. You can’t contain God (Acts 17:22-31).

We are so like the Athenians. We are also a highly religious people and we have altars built to all different forms of God as well. We have altars built to worship an angry, vengeful God. We have altars for God the shepherd. We have altars for a God committed to social justice. We have altars for God the judge. And on and on. We also have an altar for an unknown God. Up until recently, it’s probably been our most neglected altar, all grown over with time and neglect. But it’s there and always has been. This altar doesn’t contain God either, it simply points in a truer direction than all the rest.

Religion is a two-edged sword. The goal of religion is good. The goal is simply to bring us closer to and expose us to truth. And this does happen. When religion works as it should, we do see aspects of God more clearly. The problem with religion, however, is that it tends to get stuck in its images and has a hard time moving beyond them when truth beckons. In the book, “Quarks, Chaos and Christianity”, scientist and theologian John Polkinghorne writes, “Theology has long known that our images of God are inadequate to the infinite richness of his nature; that human concepts of God are ultimately idols to be broken in the face of the greater reality.”

Religion is our spiritual institution. It’s where we put our idols for safe keeping. Idols may obscure truth, but at least they‘re tangible and in that sense, real. In contrast, the unknown God is anything but. At the same time we long for truth. We yearn for it. But we are unable to hold it without attempting to pin it down with words. We wrestle with this tension every day, because we want to be able to grab hold of essence and dissect it with understanding, but when we try, truth hardens into an idolatry devoid of life.

Maybe what we need is a spiritual shift from head to heart. I came across an interesting commentary on faith in “The Heart of Christianity” by theologian Marcus Borg. Borg points out that for most of us faith has become primarily a set of beliefs and thus a matter of the head. Faith and belief have become almost synonymous. He writes, “Faith means believing in spite of difficulties, believing even when you have reasons to think otherwise. It means believing ‘iffy’ things to be true.”

Idols thrive on beliefs. Which God do you believe in, do you relate to? God as love, God as judge? Faith as belief also means doubt or disbelief become sins.

Quoting again, “That Christian faith is about belief is a rather odd notion, when you think about it. It suggests that what God really cares about is the beliefs in our heads--as if ‘believing the right things’ is what God is most looking for, as if having ‘correct beliefs’ is what will save us….Moreover, when you think about it, faith as belief is relatively impotent, relatively powerless. You can believe all the right things and still be in bondage. You can believe all the right things and still be miserable. You can believe all the right things and still be relatively unchanged. Believing a set of claims to be true has very little transforming power.”

Fortunately, Borg goes on to describe three other Biblical ways to understand the word, “faith”. The first is to experience faith as trust. Recall to mind the familiar gospel passage which reminds us that if God feeds the birds of the field and clothes the lilies of the field, God will surely provide for us (Luke 12). Here, the opposite of faith is worry, is anxiety.

Second, faith as fidelity or loyalty, faithfulness. We are faithful, not to beliefs about God, but to God. Many times throughout the Old Testament, the Israelites are accused of being unfaithful, adulterous in their relationship with God. Most often, this is because of idolatry.

Third, faith as a way of seeing. Really, this one is a measure of how well we live in faith as trust and faithfulness. This gets at our world view. Do we tend to view the whole picture of life with a good deal of pessimism and anxiety? Or do we chose to trust God to such an extent and put our allegiance so behind God, that instead we are able to view life as “life-giving and nourishing”? This is a tough one!

Faith as belief tends toward something rigid, uncompromising. Faith as belief will be very uncomfortable with an altar for an unknown God, because what can be known about such a God?! However, faith as trust, faith as faithfulness, faith as vision - none of these require a rigid belief system. They allow God the freedom to be God. They allow us the freedom to seek out truth, wherever that may lead us. For all the good Christianity has accomplished, I do believe it has often also tried to shut off access to a lot of avenues to truth. Every religion is guilty of this.

In this same passage from Acts, Paul says, “From one ancestor he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and he allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live, so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him--though indeed he is not far from each one of us (26-27).” God has engineered all of life to point towards God. We are created to search for God. And God is never far from any of us.

I’ve come across this story before, but I read it again in Borg’s book and was struck again by the profound truth it reveals. He writes, “Several years ago I was told a story about a three-year old girl. She was the firstborn and only child in her family, but now her mother was pregnant again, and the little girl was very excited about having a new brother or sister. Within a few hours of the parents bringing a new baby boy home from the hospital, the girl made a request: she wanted to be alone with her new brother in his room with the door shut. Her insistence about being alone with the baby with the door shut made her parents a bit uneasy, but then they remembered that they had installed an intercom system in anticipation of the baby’s arrival, so they realized they could let their daughter do this, and if they heard the slightest indication that anything strange was happening, they could be in the baby’s room in an instant.

“So they let the little girl go into the baby’s room, shut the door and raced to the intercom listening station. They heard their daughter’s footsteps moving across the baby’s room, imagined her standing over the baby’s crib, and then they heard her saying to her three-day-old brother, “Tell me about God--I’ve almost forgotten.”

I don’t know if this story is factually true or not. But I do believe it to be true in the most important sense. And I believe this because it fits with my beliefs about God. I believe we are born with an intimate connection to God and that God maintains this connection our entire life even while we allow life to interfere and feel this connection less often as we age. Paul reminds us that God is “never far from each one of us.”

Continuing with verse 28, “For in him we live and move and have our being; as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.’” And for fun, let just add John 14:17 to the mix too, “This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.”

So we are simultaneously within God. All of God’s created world, however large this world may prove to be, we are all contained within the body of God. And we are all indwelled with the Spirit of God as well. Now I don’t know about you, but I can’t think of an image that begins to help us get our minds around this truth. This God is so far beyond our ability to understand and yet I feel so completely at peace placing my trust and allegiance in this God.

Last summer, when my daughter was seven, she wrote a book called, “Our World”. This is what she said, “The world is a place for love and kindness. A place for peace. A star is a place for gas. A place for fire too. God is a place for love and joy! We are a place for our heart! And the world is a place for us!

I was struck at the idea of God as a place, a place that is present wherever there is love and joy, and ourselves as a place for our hearts. Becca’s picture for God was a lot of hearts. Her picture of people is a body with a heart inside. We are that place in which God can dwell. And the world is the place for us to live and demonstrate God’s love through kindness and peace. I love the way she put the pieces together. Her mind is still largely free of so many of the beliefs which govern and limit our grown-up imaginations.

But no matter the level of our ability to apprehend, no matter how unknown God will always be in our lives, still God is there. The truth will seek us out. We are contained within the body of God and within us God’s spirit dwells. Our response need only be belief, trust, faithfulness and a gracious vision of life that owes it’s all to God’s presence. Keep the faith.

Forgot to mention that this is by Lynn.  I just posted it because she is away from her computer right now.  Sorry for any confusion!

On The Edge Of The Abyss

I spent some time with our rabbits the other day.  I have learned that rabbits are very different from cats and dogs.  It is difficult to tame a rabbit.  They do not like to be held.  There are exceptions of course, but our rabbits are not exceptions.  If I want my rabbits to be my friends, I have to let them come to me in their own time.  So, I was sitting, quiet and still, and letting the rabbits climb about.  I found myself marveling at them.  It is not a surprise to me that I find rabbits miraculous.  Each animal species that has entered my life for long has left me stunned by their uniquely awe inspiring natures.  As a young person, I took beef as a 4-H project and as I groomed my cattle for the shows I was awestruck by the solidity and mass of the leg bone of a steer, stunned by the velvety softness of their freshly clipped brow, charmed by the size and roughness of their tongues.   I also took swine as a 4-H project.  I was awe struck again by the strength of the snout of a pig, the whimsical curl of their tails, the mass of their hind-ends.  I could express similar praises for horses, goats, dogs, cats, deer, turkeys...the list goes on.  Now, I add rabbits.  The softness of our mini-rex rabbits has got to be what heaven feels like tactilely.  The strength and occasional ferocity of one of our angora’s belies the stereotypical timidity and fragility of a rabbit.  I am continually learning more miraculous depth to God’s creation.  

With all this miraculous wonder around me you would think my faith in the Creator would be strong and steadfast.  Instead I find myself wondering:  what if all this beauty and wonder is not the outpouring of a loving creator but rather a glorious goodbye?  What if this is the universe’s way of consoling us as we head into nothingness?  What if there is no God?

This is not to say that I have no faith or that I am experiencing a faith crisis.  Rather this is to admit with brutal honesty that my faith dances on the edge of the abyss.  It ebbs and flows like anyone’s but even when it runs deep it often anchors me in a place that feels less like a safe cradle of love and more like peering into the darkness filled with gratitude for the one who is light.

I don’t think I am alone in this.  I think many people of faith wrestle with dark and deep questions.  I suspect that many more have flashes and moments when doubt creeps in late at night and the stomach plunges and the mouth goes dry and the thought  stampedes past “What if...?”  

So, I come clean and admit the depth and terrors of my doubt because we seldom address such things even in the church, the very place where such things should be addressed.  How often do we even mention the question,  “How do we know there is a God at all?” Or perhaps even better yet:  how often do we consider the question, “What if we are wrong?”  Perhaps it is time we did lest it appear as though we have nothing to say to such questions.

I wonder if there are others who occasionally sit in the pews thinking "What Would Jesus Do" is really irrelevant if there is no God.  I wonder if there are others who sometimes think we are ignoring the elephant in the middle of the room.  Are there times when such questions ramble about in your mind?  What eases your mind at such times?  

Leaping before you look

My husband's mom has lived with cancer for around 20 years. We've acknowledged this "borrowed" time with much gratitude, but as her health began to fail a few months ago, we knew time was most likely beginning to run short. When Todd's dad called a few weeks ago to say she was in the hospital, we decided to drop everything and head north to their home in Regina, Saskatchewan. What followed was a very special, very productive, very poignant week. It was a blessing to be able to spend quality time with each other. We laughed, we prepared meals and ate together, we talked through future plans. But being around Todd's mom was sobering... bittersweet. She has changed a lot in the last few months and even since we left over a week ago, her decline has been rapid. She was able to return home while we were there, but could only walk a few steps before her breathing became labored. Talking made her cough. She slept only fitfully and so always looked terribly weary. Her legs were swollen. There are all physical observations, but there was a significant emotional shift as well. She had drawn into herself and become pensive. More than anything she wanted her entire family gathered around her for a few days, one more time. And when we were finally all there together, she couldn't keep the smile off her face. But interaction was not what she craved, rather our presence was all she needed. She resisted attempts to draw her out, preferring to be left alone with her thoughts. This quiet "turning in" made several of us more reflective as well.

I think with impending death comes an aching and all too keen awareness of how short life is. Even if we live to the ripe old age of 100, it goes by so very fast. Death's uninvited presence makes you greedy for life. You want to hoard each moment and thus you mourn each moment's passage, aware that in the blink of an eye it will be tomorrow, or next week.....or a lifetime later.

Last week I celebrated the big 4-0. I haven't been looking forward to 40. Unlike 30, when it felt like you became an official adult while still somehow maintaining a grip on youthfulness, 40 is far more grim. I'm not feeling very youthful anymore and it makes me grumpy. It's an arbitrary number, for sure, but it really does feel like the doorway to middle age. Time is slipping away from me. And while those older may be tempted to snigger a little at my angst, I wonder how you face each new decade? Will each age milestone from here on out prompt a similar sensitivity to the passage of time? I still feel like high school was only a few years ago, until my kids wonder aloud in my presence if I had telephones or indoor plumbing when I was a kid (sigh).

The passage of time is kind of like one of those moving walkways you find in large airports. When you are young, you have a completely unobstructed view and the belt is moving terribly slooooow. Impatience alone tempts you to jump off and forge your own way. At some point in your 20's, you notice a few obstacles that may in time impede your view, in the far, far off future - commitments and possessions that weren't there a moment ago. And some days you wonder if the walkway belt may be moving just a little faster before dismissing the notion as absurd. In your 30's, life's baggage continues to pile up making mobility more difficult. And no longer can you pretend the scenery isn't passing by at a smarter clip. In your 40's, every once in awhile you look over to another moving walkway, still just visible from your position and wonder if maybe that's the track you should have been on instead. By the time you reach your 70's and 80's the belt is moving so fast the momentum itself sends some of your baggage flying. Your view improves, but looking makes you a little dizzy.

Two of the lectionary passages yesterday seem to suggest we need to keep an eye on our different options, and even leap if need be, to a neighboring track.....or a distant one for that matter....running in the opposite direction. In the gospel passage from Mark we find Simon, Andrew, James and John dropping everything at a word from Jesus to "follow". The call stories of Matthew, Philip and Nathanael are equally dramatic. Talk about leaping off life's moving walkway in order to hop onto something completely different. These men, most of whom would have had families of their own to support and care for, drop their vocations, their responsibilities and commitments at the mere request of Jesus to follow him.

Just an aside, scholars believe a rather large community formed around Jesus, following him wherever he went. I believe the disciples' families made up at least part of that throng. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I have a hard time believing Jesus would call a parent and spouse away from his or her family. With that said, it's still a pretty amazing phenomenon. And because this scenario is repeated with seven of the twelve disciples, we really can't call it an isolated incident.

Yet the disciples' willingness to change tracks pales in comparison to the Ninevites. Paul Keim, Bible professor at Goshen College, writes, "In the midst of the great city the recalcitrant prophet of the Lord unleashes a five-word oracle whose brevity is matched only by its banality: Forty days and you're toast! And yet in this exquisite farce, the response far exceeds that of modern, urban, evangelistic crusades among the well churched. The people of the Most Evil Empire believe in God and exhibit a repentance so robust that a fast is proclaimed and all are clothed in sackcloth from king to cattle."

In contrast, it's easy to see how one person could get it into her head to change tracks - but a whole city! And simultaneously! How is this possible?!

I think of other instant conversions. One of my friends speaks about a day in his dorm room when he decided stuff was cluttering up his life. He stuffed all his clothes into bags and sent them off to Good Will. That was over 10 years ago and he's never looked back. Today, he and his wife live quite contentedly in a house the size of my living room! Another and recently departed friend left behind his home and his dream job in pursuit of a simpler and more Biblical life. He became a mentor and guide for many throughout his too short life as he lived his beliefs and together with his wife raised their family with a gentle but unwavering commitment to peace, justice and simple living. Both of these individuls experienced conversions earlier in life when it's a little easier to leap off your walkway. It gets a lot trickier as we age, which is why it was so staggering when last fall friends nearing retirement decided to leave everything behind and head to China as missionaries.

I suspect none of these responses, Biblical and otherwise, are quite so dramatic as they seem on first blush. Most of the time major change, whether societal or individual, is set in motion by an unforeseen spark. Rosa Parks serves as a good example. Parks was an intentional spark. She knew what she was doing when she refused to stand up and offer her bus seat to a standing white person. Within that previous year, two other black women had exercised civil disobedience in the exact same way as Parks. For whatever reason, Parks' action provided the spark that led to the Montgomery bus boycott.

However, plans were already laid. Many people had already devoted an awful lot of time and energy in an effort to lay down societal tinder so that one of these sparks would indeed take hold and set our class system on fire. If the groundwork hadn't been in place, no one reading this would have ever heard of Rosa Parks.

Clearly the city of Ninevah was in trouble long before Jonah showed up. There must have been a lot of unrest, a lot of demonstrations and a widespread desire for a different and more ethical kind of life. If there wasn't palpable tension on the streets of Ninevah, Jonah's warning would almost certainly have fallen upon a city of deaf ears.

Likewise, Jesus came onto the scene when a longing for revolution and change hung thick in the air. People yearned for social upheaval, but lacked the ability, in so many ways, to instigate meaningful reform. Still, it was on the front burner of thought for many. Surely those seven disciples had been searching their souls leading up to Jesus' call. Some were probably eager to be a part of some upstart group, others maybe felt a disconcerting incompleteness. But they were all longing for something more. They were all ripe for the picking and so all Jesus had to do was pluck.

These passages from Jonah and Mark stand as a stark reminder for us to pay attention to our inner voice. Sometimes that voice rages in our head and gives us no peace. Often our inner voice is quiet, so quiet its easy to disregard that nagging sense of disquiet and discontent. Is there a leap we are being readied for? Maybe it's a vaulting jump to China. More likely it's a tiny hop into a new way of understanding or doing.

But the preparation is essentially important. Here's why. In each of the gospels, the calling and gathering of the disciples lasts for several chapters. In the book of Matthew, right in the middle of this ongoing call, we find this little passage. Matthew 8:18-22 in my Bible is entitled, "Would-Be Followers of Jesus". Here's how it reads, "Now when Jesus saw great crowds around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side. A scribe then approached and said, 'Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.' And Jesus said to him, 'Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.' Another of his disciples said to him, 'Lord, first let me go and bury my father.' But Jesus said to him, 'Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.'"

Jesus so often provides the spark. I don't know how often we recognize Jesus in this form, but I believe it to be true. Jesus sparks change all over our world, from personal conversions to societal protest and reform. But a spark will only take hold if the necessary tinder is there for it to seize onto. We provide that tinder when we take the time to be self-aware and tuned into our own inner workings. When the spark takes hold, there's no looking back. Fire is all consuming. Yet unless we have given our places of unrest the time they need to ripen and dry then all we'll have to offer when Jesus sends a spark in our direction, is a still green commitment that can't yet be set ablaze. When that spark comes knocking, the time for looking is over. We have to be ready to leap. There, I believe I've sufficiently mixed my metaphors!

Time runs by at a ridiculously fast pace. We are here for a moment and then gone. How do we make use of the time we are given? Can our impulse for good out last our physical life in this realm? Can leaps we make today reverberate through the lives of generations to come in ways that enrich and enflame? Can our time in this moment reveal an aspect of God's Kingdom for those who will follow in our wake? If we believe in God and all the promises of God, the answer is a resounding, "YES!"

Truth From Surprising Sources

Struggling for inspiration today, I ran across a blog post, "Running with the Dalai Lama." (pun intended because puns are fun!)  The author writes of listening to a podcast while running.  As he goes, he loses  track of who is speaking.  He finds himself agreeing with what is said not knowing whether the speaker is Buddhist or Muslim or Christian.  It reminded me of a blog I wrote a while back about not listening to political commercials, political debates or any report that phrases things in terms of what the Republicans say vs. what the Democrats say.  A dear friend pointed out that it is important to listen to such things so that we stay informed and can vote accordingly.  I concede that we do need to listen to some news for this purpose.  Most political commercials will inform us of little besides "He's a Republican and hates Obama" or "She is a Democrat and hates Republicans," so I stand by that one.  But, the "Running with the Dalai Lama," article gave me another idea.  How about this:  when possible listen to or read the content of what is being said before looking to see who is speaking.  Admittedly this will often be difficult since our media divides things so clearly into Republican vs. Democrat.  And some sources are going to be full of unhelpfulness no matter how tightly we close our eyes.  For example, I was forced to listen to a bit of The 700 Club the other day.  That program is baloney shaped propaganda masquerading as Christianity no matter how you slice it.  (That little tidbit is for another dear person who reminded me that if I don't say anything controversial I run the risk of being boring.)  But in some cases I think we might be surprised at who can be an agent of truth and wisdom.

Perhaps we could make a game of it.  Post quotes on facebook or in the comments here revealing the author only after the quote and see if we can surprise each other.  No peeking!  Let's see if we can find any truth speakers in surprising places.

I will kick it off with an article from Sojourners which did a little bit of this kind of thing.  In GOP Primaries and Old Country Buffet,  Tim King reveals some surprising tidbits about some of our politicians.  For example, King writes of a candidate whose state was the first to pass universal health care and another who says we should listen to scientists who warn of a human cause for climate change.  Can you name these candidates?  Check out the link for the answers.

We all have our preconceived notions.  Divisiveness is being fed every time we hear or read the news.  Let's stretch ourselves and starve the divisiveness a little by listening first and making up our minds after we hear what is being said.

Another look at creation

My children are always in the mood to hear stories. Doesn't matter what they're doing, if I tell them I have a story to share, they stop in their tracks and wait with keen anticipation. The stories they like best are generally recollections of myself as a child. Funny thing about childhood memories though, I may only have one crystal clear image of something from my past and in order to make a story of it, must embroider in all the missing details, whether accurate or not.

A few years ago, my uncle had a tractor he was in catch fire and burn up along with the planter behind it, though fortunately he escaped, unharmed. This image captivated Jonathan's imagination and he would ask me repeatedly to tell him the story of "Randall and the burning tractor". I did my best with the known details, but still had to fill in considerable gaps with my own imagination. Even now, only a few years later, time is clouding my memory. I'm not entirely sure the tractor was pulling a planter or maybe some other implement. And if Jonathan someday tells this story to his children, more details will be lost, replaced by new creative imaginings. If this family story survives through several generations it will slowly move into folk lore or myth and perhaps the only factual piece to survive will be the memory of a fire and an earlier ancestor's fortuitous escape. The rest of the facts will go by the wayside. And yet, the story will still be true. It will still transport its listeners to a time in the past when fire threatened to engulf life and lost. And this is the most salient detail of the story. If this piece survives, we still have truth.

One of our links to every culture that has ever been in all of human civilization is a longing to understand our genesis, our beginning. And every culture has its own set of creation myths which attempt to pin down some aspect of truth. These creation stories are not factually or scientifically accurate. But that isn't the point of story, much less creation stories. Facts are rather lifeless. Factual evidence sucks mystery and creativity right out of the equation. Once something is nailed down as fact, there isn't any room left to embroider around the edges and more often than not, some of the most powerful truth is found in the innocent fabrications. When we talk about genesis (little g), we need the creative mystery that story embodies. It's the only way to get a good hold on the topic.

While facts reveal a certain kind of truth, so too does story. I view this creation story from the book of Genesis as myth, at least in small part because it is immediately followed in Genesis 2 and 3 by a completely different creation story. Still, these stories are rich in theology and convey many profound truths. For example, in the first creation story, from Genesis 1, we learn that God has no fixed image in male or female but is reflected in both. We learn that God has a unique covenant and relationship with humanity. We learn that creation, God's creation, is good. This myth is full of truth.

The rift between science and religion seems due to a lot of willful misunderstanding on both sides of the issue...and maybe a misplaced faith as well. In truth, the scientific process isn't so far different from the religious quest for truth. Science involves far more interpretation than most people allow for. Science does not have all the answers. In fact, the more science discovers, the more it comes to terms with how little it knows. English astronomer Sir Martin Rees once said, "It's embarrassing that 90% of the universe is unaccounted for."

Neither is science purely logical and clear. Einstein has this to say about Galileo. "Pure logical thinking cannot yield us any knowledge of the empirical world; all knowledge of reality starts from experience and ends in it. Propositions arrived at by purely logical means are completely empty as regards reality. Because Galileo says this, and particularly because he drummed it into the scientific world, he is the father of modern physics--indeed, of modern science altogether." Galileo was also forced to recant much of his scientific beliefs before agents of the Inquisition and spent most of his latter years under house arrest.

Physicist and theologian, John Polkinghorne, writes, "I believe that science and religion are intellectual cousins under the skin. Both are searching for motivated belief. Neither can claim absolutely certain knowledge, for each must base its conclusions on an interplay between interpretation and experience. In consequence, both must be open to the possibility of correction. Neither deals simply with pure fact, or with mere opinion. They are both part of the great human endeavor to understand."

Polkinghorne goes on to say that science works to answer the question, "how?". While religion wrestles with "why?". We run into problems then when religion tries to have a say in "how", because the Bible doesn't have much to say on this front. The two creation stories don't say anything about how God created. They simply state that God did so. However, if we look at why, the Bible yields more insight. The creation story implies that once God got going, God was pleased at what was taking shape. It was good and so God continued. The Bible as a whole suggests that God created because God yearned for relationship and so formed humanity and the environment in which humanity could live.

I read a wonderful book awhile back called, "The Whole Shebang" by Timothy Ferris, a physicist at the University of California. It's exceptionally well written. Ferris works to take quantum physics and cosmology and articulate it in a way accessible to everyone. Despite his best attempts, too much of the material still went right over my head. But I am fascinated with the ways in which physics and religion intersect on the topic of genesis. First, the universe is beautiful. From a subatomic particle level on up, this universe is structured with an inherent and breathtaking beauty. God's creation is good. Second, there is a constant battle between the forces of order and the forces of chaos. This is a recurring Biblical theme that finds voice in every aspect of existence. Third, the vast majority of cosmologists subscribe to some version of the Big Bang Theory. And most of these scientists believe that what we know of today as the universe began as a single particle or subatomic element. Which means, in the beginning, all was one. All was unity. This was a period before time and space. Interestingly, I can't even formulate this concept without using the ideas of time and space. And perhaps our universe still holds this unity in its memory which may be why everything is so completely interconnected.

Ferris writes, "The quantum universe may be thought of as the other side of the coin from the spatiotemporal, relativistic universe that has, to date, dominated cosmological thought. We humans, having come along when the universe was already billions of years old and being rather big creatures, able to see stars in the sky but not atoms in an apple, naturally got into cosmology from the large-scale side of things--by observing galaxies and developing theories, such as relativity, to interpret their behavior. But the universe was not always big and classical. Once it was small and quantum, and possibly it has not lost memory of those times. It may well turn out that over there--or, more properly, inside and underfoot, marbled through the very fabric of the space that is in turn marbled through every material object--the universe remains as it was in the beginning, when all places were one place, all times one time, and all things the same thing."

It I switch to theological language, I might say that the universe is bent on reclaiming this unity of purpose, of mind, of being. Further, whenever we find this unity, we see the face of God. The Reign of God is all about making God's unity, God's love visible in this realm of existence. I love the idea that we were created with an intuitive memory of the unity that once was and a yearning for that unity to be made real once more.

Unfortunately, science cannot prove the existence of God anymore than religion. Let's say the universe was once small and quantum and one. What or who made it that way? This is a rabbit hole of inquiry with no end. Ferris, who never makes a claim to be religious, states that to believe there's nothing there takes every bit as much faith as to believe in God. And here we come up against faith.

And faith leads me back to story. Throughout all of human civilization, we see faith illustrated in the myths, stories of each individual culture. Story upon story indicates belief in a God who always was and always will be. Alpha and Omega. In this, I see truth. We were created to be people of faith who yearn for relationship with our Creator. And so along with Matthew, may we find assurance in Jesus' words, "And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."

Little Agents of Chaos

In “Leadership and the New Science,” Margaret Wheatley points out that science has linked disorder or chaos with growth.  I find this an intriguing idea.  Especially when considering the church.  Church is where we want order.  So much in life is out of control, so much seems chaotic that we want church to be a harbor from the storm.  We want order and peacefulness.  Worship is at 10:30 a.m. each Sunday.  There is a familiar structure to what we do (whether there is a liturgy or not).  People generally dress in a certain way.  All is orderly.  Peaceful.  So, if disorder brings about growth then I guess it is no wonder so much of the church seems to be dying.

But what really provoked my imagination is to consider who in the church is the greatest agent of chaos?  Who is a source of disorder?  Young mothers and fathers ought to be able to answer this one in a heart beat: our children.  And if disorder brings growth and lack of growth means death than who is one of the greatest gifts to our church?  Again: our children.  Now in a way this is nothing new.  People have often thought a lack of youth in a church is a clear sign of its impending demise.  What is different here is the reason.  Children are not necessary to the life of a church because old people will die sooner and then no one will be left.  Children are needed for the gift of chaos that they bring.  Children are just learning the rules of order.  They will natural break those rules sometimes.  Older youth will consciously resist those rules.  We need them to do this.  Otherwise there will be little or no growth.

Two caveats are important here.  First that I do not mean to say that it is impossible to grow without children.  I can think of one congregation dear to my heart that is in a position where numbers have declined to the point that the old order of things will soon become impossible.  There is some chaos for you.  No children required.  A congregation could also choose disorder for the sake of growth.

The second caveat is of utmost importance: when I say growth I do not mean numerical growth.  I have come to believe that the church might well be better off if we adopted a new commandment which read: “Thou shalt not take attendance!”

Maybe I am biased.  The importance of young people is a topic dear to my heart.  Yet when a little girl is crying real tears because she doesn’t want to go to church, maybe it is time to admit something is wrong.  Maybe it is time to admit we need a little disorder. 

New Beginnings: Repentance

Despite what it says at the bottom, the below is written by Lynn.  I just posted it for her since she was away from computers today.  Thanks for the great thoughts, Lynn!

So it’s the start of a new year and like clockwork, my husband and I, along with millions of other Americans, are resolved to eat healthier and exercise more. To that end, we wolfed down as much of the junk food in the house as we could leading up to the start of this last week…in order to limit temptation of course. Heaven forbid we waste good food! And now I’ve been running up and down the stairs at home and Todd has been finding ways to walk more at work. We’ve purchased a Wii exercise video to use together in the evening. We are hopeful that this time our good intentions will carry us a little further down the permanent weight loss road, but I’ll admit, I’m not as optimistic as I used to be.

 

I listened to a sobering NPR report this week on Face the Nation that attempted to explain why it’s so difficult to lose weight. We are wired to like fatty, sugary foods and to avoid physical exertion if we can. It’s an evolutionary defense system deeply embedded in our genetic code. When we do attempt to eat less and exercise more, our body rises up against us sending us urgent messages to cease and desist. While it’s possible, it takes monumental effort to override this genetic code. Which explains this sad statistic I read online this week: 50% of all American adults will enter this new year with the intention to eat healthier and lose weight. By the end of January, 35% of us will have already given up the good fight.

 

Speaking of new beginnings…..our first scripture passage for the day happens to be the first five verses of the entire Bible. “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.” And so creation continues with God’s resounding declaration that all is “good!”.

 

Talk about the ultimate new beginning - the big bang that started it all! Can you imagine God’s hopes and dreams for this beautiful newness? The promise it all contained? So it’s interesting that only five chapters later God has changed his tune dramatically and declares the human part of creation not good, but rather very, very bad. So God wipes humanity out, holding back just a few lucky souls for reproductive purposes and decides to start fresh…..again. Does this ring a bell? Does it sound a little like a New Year’s resolution gone bad?

 

Continuing with the “new beginnings” theme, let’s skip over to the gospel of Mark. The book opens with the act of baptism. Baptism is a fresh start. It’s a turning over of the old life and a grateful and voluntary acceptance of a new life with God. Make no mistake, we all like fresh starts. In fact we long for them - for the opportunity to put down our burdens, confess our sins, be cleansed of all the weary old in exchange for the chance to be right and to get it right this time around. So it comes as no surprise that people are flocking to John to be baptized. And they come with all sorts of mixed motives, some pure, some very much less than. I don’t know how many of these people are really listening to what John has to say. I think a lot of folk get caught up in the spirit of the moment and join the parade. Months and years later they remember their baptism, but not the point.

 

And so we find Paul in Acts 19, catching up with some disciples in Ephesus. He asks them a question about the Holy Spirit and they respond with, “Huh? Who’s that?”

 

Paul is shocked. “But I thought you said you were baptized!”

 

They reply, “Well yeah, John dunked us in the water. That’s baptism, right?”

 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Paul takes them back to the beginning. “Okay fellows, do you know what repentance means? Have you heard about Jesus?”

 

Then Paul proceeds to baptize them, this time for real, and they receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. And maybe in part just to play it safe, Paul stays with them for two years, making sure everyone understands the point.

 

Repentance. That’s the point. Paul is simply echoing John the Baptist. Mark 1:4 - “John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”

 

This seems to be what is most often missing from our newbie resolutions - repentance. Even God repented. In Genesis following the flood God seems to feel bad for the destruction and devastation. He promises to never do it again and he completely turns around in his relationship with humanity and begins to do things differently. No longer God’s play things, following the flood we find a God who seeks each of us out to be with us in genuine relationship.

 

Theologian Marcus Borg offers some helpful words about repentance. He writes, “The biblical meaning of ‘repentance’ is quite different from an apology. In the Jewish Bible, the Christian Old Testament, ‘repentance’ means ‘to return’ – that is, to return from exile, to return to life in the presence of God, to a life centered in God.

In the Christian New Testament, the word ‘repentance’ carries this meaning, and one more. The roots of the Greek word for ‘repentance’ mean ‘to go beyond the mind that you have.’ So apology and repentance, forgiveness and repentance, are quite different. Apology and forgiveness do not in themselves imply change. Repentance does.”

 

Repentance means to return to a life centered in God and to do so by pushing yourself beyond your comfort zone into new ways of understanding and reverencing God.

 

I’m sure you’ve all heard about the park ranger who was shot and killed by a disturbed gunman at Mount Rainier last Sunday. Some speculate that Margaret may have intercepted the gunman on his way to the visitor’s center where over 100 people were seeking shelter and safety. Margaret was 34 years old, married and the mother of two very little girls. She also happened to have been a friend of my sister-in-law, Sheri and her late husband. They were all a part of Lutheran Campus Ministries together at K-State. Sheri spent some time writing on Margaret’s death in her blog post this last week and particularly the way in which Margaret lost her life serving as a barrier against the darkness, “putting her car and herself between a violent person and those he might harm.”

 

She then reflects on how we too can serve as barriers in our lives. Sheri writes, “What if we put our bulky bodies in between the darkness of greed and people who live in hunger? What if we changed the way we look at food and began to realize that our rich diets are a luxury that come at the cost of others? What if instead of spending money on diet programs we…..made the connection between our eating and the plight of the starving by sending a dollar to charity every time we managed to go a day without over indulging?”

 

What Sheri describes is repentance. Repentance is hard work. It’s a complete reorientation. It’s an acknowledgment that what we are doing now is not right - whether it be biting our fingernails, staying too busy or neglecting our relationship with God - accompanied by an earnest active will to make a change in order to think and do differently.

 

I think repentance must be wrapped around every true new beginning we seek to make. This is all good news and breathes hope back into our tired and predictable new year’s resolutions. Do we really want to bring God back into the center of our existence and stretch our minds to accommodate this reorientation? Are we ready for change? Can we do repentance? If so, new beginnings beckon…

 

Being a Barrier to the Darkness: A Tribute to One Who Was

Events occurred this week that brought me back in contact with a faith community that I was part of years ago.  Hearing from these wonderful people reminded me of a blog I had read a few months ago http://rachelheldevans.com/blessed-are-the-uncool  which says in part:

“...I want to be part of an un-cool church because I want to be part of a community that shares the reputation of Jesus, and like it or not, Jesus’ favorite people in the world were not cool. They were mostly sinners, misfits, outcasts, weirdos, poor people, sick people, and crazy people.”  

I don’t mean to say that we were all weird...well maybe just a little:)  What I mean is that community was full of a variety of people, with differing opinions and all authentically themselves.  Some of them even dared to be un-cool.  I miss them.  

I was brought back in touch with these folks this week by an event that has my mind reeling.  One of our members, Margaret, was shot and killed.  She was the Park Ranger whom you may have heard about on the news.  It has been years since I last saw Margaret and yet I was deeply saddened.  This was a person whom I knew to be kind and gentle.  For her to die in such a violent way is so tragic and so wrong.  

Much will be said in the coming weeks about the gunman.  Why he did it, could it have been prevented, etc.  Pastor Jayne Thompson, who was the pastor of the above mentioned faith community, wrote an article that expresses many of my thoughts upon all of that. Click this link to read it: http://www.thelutheran.org/blog/comments.cfm?blog_id=1713

Here I would like to focus on what Margaret did.  

I don’t want to call Margaret a hero.  That sounds way too romantic.  There is nothing romantic about the bloody, violent way this dear person died.  There is nothing romantic about the excruciating pain her husband is in right now.  There is nothing romantic about two fabulous little girls facing life without their mommy and bearing the weight of grief on their tiny little frames.  For Margaret's parents, there is nothing romantic about burying their child.  

Margaret died just doing her job.  She died being a good person who chose her career out of a love for nature.  She died following her training and living her life and doing her job to the best of her abilities.  In the process, she put her car and herself between a violent person and those he might harm.  

How would the world look if we all did the same?  I don’t mean that we should all become Rangers or literally put our bodies in front of bullets.  I just mean, what if we all lived our lives doing our best at our work and at home and in the process put ourselves between the darkness in the world and the people who might be harmed by that darkness?  

There are countless ways we could do this.  This being the time of the year for resolutions, combined with the fact that I just read three books about children living in poverty (The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse, What You Wish For by various authors), brings to mind one way we could do this.  What if we put our bulky bodies in between the darkness of greed and people who live in hunger?  What if we changed the way we look at food and began to realize that our rich diets are a luxury that come at the cost of others?  What if instead of spending money on diet programs we read books like the ones I mentioned and made the connection between our eating and the plight of the starving by sending a dollar to charity every time we managed to go a day without over indulging?  

We could put our selves between our children and materialism by resolving to wear the mute button out on our remotes refusing to watch commercials that attempt to convince us to buy things we don’t need.  We could put ourselves between our country and those who would divide us by refusing to watch political commercials, political debates, and any news that contains the opinions of the Democrats vs. the opinions of the Republicans.   We could put ourselves between our soldiers and the horrors of war by deciding that there must be better ways to resolve conflicts and encouraging our politicians to seek those out even if it means some sacrifice on our part. 

There are countless ways we could all live our everyday lives in ways so that we would become a barrier for the darkness in the world.  Perhaps if we did, tragedies like what happened to Margaret would be a thing of the past.  

I realize I have covered a lot of ground here.  I don’t know that Margaret would agree with all that I have said. The events of the week have left my mind whirling with so many thoughts it is difficult to pin any of them down.  I guess my point is: a fitting tribute to Margaret might be resolving to be a barrier to the darkness in some small way and thus moving toward a world that is a safer place for her children.  Let it be so.

Celebrating (dogs and) Epiphany

One of my favorite Dean Koontz novels opens from a dog's perspective. It's running down a city street at night and the reader begins to visualize the dog's environment, not through what he sees, but by what he smells - garbage, people, cars....even danger, fear and death.

According to Wikipedia, dogs have nearly 220 million smell-sensitive cells over an area about the size of a handkerchief compared to 5 million over an area the size of a postage stamp for humans. Dogs can sense odors at concentrations nearly 100 million times lower than humans can. And the percentage of the dog's brain that is devoted to analyzing smells is actually 40 times larger than that of a human.

Other websites* offered additional information. A dog's sense of smell is thought to be up to 10,000 times better than a human's. In tests, "dogs have been able to pick up the odor of chemical solutions that form one or two parts in a trillion. That's the equivalent of smelling one bad apple in two billion barrels." Dogs have an extra organ in their nasal cavaity called "Jacobson's organ". This organ allows dog to combine a sense of smell and taste meaning, "dogs can literally taste the air."

Dogs can detect cancer in humans. Trained dogs can detect lung, breast and other cancers with an accuracy rate of between 88 and 97 percent simply by smelling a person's breath. The accuracy rate of a multi-million pound hospital scanner is between 85 and 90 percent. Dogs can also be trained to use their sense of smell to alert people with heart conditions or with epilepsy if they are about to suffer a seizure.

According to Joan Capuzzi Giresi, a veterinarian and contributor to dog channel.com, "Your dog's nose is like man's opposable thumb, that singular, stunning evolutionary gift that opens the beholder to a whole world the un-endowed can never know."

The dogs in our lives inhabit the same world we do, yet they comprehend reality in a strikingly different way. And I haven't even started in on a dog's keen sense of hearing. They understand dimensions of God's created world that we simply are not privy to. But their world is just as real as our own.

Let's take a jump now to Epiphany and the wise men. Astronomy is a field of science about which I am completely ignorant. I do well to pick out the big dipper and that's about it. A new and interesting star could appear in the night sky and I'd never know. Thousands of new stars could appear and I'd be equally clueless. This is a part of the world I'm aware of but not tuned into. If we back things up 2,000 years, it appears people were just as ignorant about the night sky as I am today. This was not a star anyone noticed, except for the fabled wise men.

Epiphany is a time to celebrate the bright light that entered our world at Jesus' birth. While I believe this to be true, I wonder if we mistakenly assume this light was blindingly evident to human eyes. The shepherds didn't see this light, they let an angel lead the way. Only at the manger did they apprehend a glow. The wise men see a literal light in the sky which for them signified the birth of a great, new ruler, but even the wise men ended up first in Jerusalem and had to be helped along on their journey, ironically, by Herod. Anna and Simeon saw the light enter the temple in the form of an infant, but scripture doesn't indicate that anyone else in the temple that day was particularly moved. John the Baptist seemed always to be tuned into the light of Christ, but Jesus' followers and diciples took a long time to see the light, despite spending years in Jesus' physical presence. Paul had to be blinded by a direct and traumatic encounter with the light of Christ before he could finally see it.

The light of Christ we celebrate at Epiphany is perhaps a little more subtle, a little more hidden than we like to admit. It's almost as if the light of God isn't so evident in this dimension, or to our limited spiritual senses. But that doesn't make the light any less real or present. I can't smell a leaky gas pipe buried 40 feet underground, like a dog can.** But that doesn't mean it's not there. Rather, I am severely limited in my ability to appreciate and apprehend all that is happening in my immediate envirnoment.

It isn't easy to see a lot of Christ's light in this world. Our attention is more easily drawn to the darkness - war, poverty, suffering...the list is unending. But that doesn't mean the light isn't here. This is where faith enters in. We believe in that which is yet unseen. If we had eyes as spiritually adept as dog's noses are physically adept, we would find ourselves bathed in the light of Christ. It would be evident everywhere. For now, we go in the faith that our senses are limited but despite this, we are surrounded by the beautiful light of Epiphany, now and always.

I am so thankful for those people in our midst who have been born with a special ability to, if not see this light, then sense it in a way foreign to most of us. We can all think of people who seem tuned into a spiritual frequency we can't seem to access. They help light our way, the wise men, the Anna's, the Simeon's of history and our present. We also possess the ability to reflect Christ's light to those around us. Somehow the light of Christ reflected by our lives is more readily accessible than a direct encounter with divine light.

Theologian Paul Hanson writes, "Affirmation that light will ultimately prevail in a situation so bleak as to threaten to extinguish the human spirit can be dismissed as utopian only by those who have not experienced the dark moment when all human resources have been exhausted. The figure of Job stands tall in the Bible as one of those who knew such a moment. From the deep darkness of his suffering he burst forth unexpectedly with a similar affirmation: 'For I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth.' With similar defiance, hunted Christians in the catacombs maintained their lives of prayer and worship, black slaves in antebellum United States sang of Elijah's chariot swinging low to carry them to freedom, Jewish prisoners in concentration camps painted butterflies on the walls of their cells, Dutch Calvinists gathered in defiance of Nazi orders in memorial services honoring their martyrs, and Oscar Romero, with the sights of his assassins' rifles trained upon his heart, raised the host and thus offered both the bread of Christ and his own life as a sacrifice to God."

We celebrate Epiphany as that moment in history when Christ's light broke into our dark world. But we still anticipate the day when our eyes will be opened, when all nations and rulers will see and be drawn to this most glorious light. We all long for that day when God's light will be fully revealed to us and to our world. For now we are grateful for Epiphany. The light of Christ has indeed come into our world. Let our hearts rejoice always over the light this baby's birth heralds. But let us also anticipate that time to come, when our spiritual senses become attuned to the reality our faith has always known.



*dog.com; dummies.com; national geographic news
**canine science website


Dogs can detect cancer in humans. Scientists t