Celebrating Epiphany

Today is January 6, the day that the church celebrates Epiphany. Epiphany is the day that we remember the arrival of the magi, who followed the star to the Jesus child. Over the next weeks during the season of Epiphany, the church will consider themes of light, revelation, and "appearing." But on the day of Epiphany itself, we celebrate the star that led the magi, the arrival of the magi, and the revelation of the Christ-child to them.

One Epiphany tradition is the blessing of the home. Matthew's account of the magi says that "on entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother" (2:10-11). Because of this reference to meeting Christ in the home, Christian tradition uses Epiphany to consider the ways that Christ is met in our homes, in visitors, and in hospitality. So, following an eastern European tradition, you might think about blessing your home on this night or during this season, inscribing 20 + CMB + 11 over your front door in chalk. The numbers represent the new year (and change each year). The letters stand for the Latin blessing "Christe mansionem benedica," which means, "Christ, bless this house," but also refer to the legendary names of the magi: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar.

Among the Russion Orthodox, today is also a feast of blessing and drinking water, a custom that goes back to a pre-Christian belief that on this day, the gods turned water into wine. You might consider using this day to reflect upon the wonder of water and stars, filling glasses with water and praying, "Dear God, we thank you that long ago you smiled and stars and comets dived into the oceans of this planet, fertilizing them with life. With gratitude for the beautiful stars in the night skies and for the water of life piped into our homes, we tast you and one another: To Life!" (The Old Hermit's Almanac, p. 19)

As you reflect today on themes of light, life, home, water, stars, and kings, I leave you with beautiful words penned by the poet T.S. Eliot. Blessings to you this day and always!

"Journey of the Magi," by T.S. Eliot

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Do not, for the sake of [insert controversial issue here], destroy the work of God.

I stumbled upon this passage today, and thought of the struggles the ELCA is going through right now over the actions of the Churchwide Assembly in August concerning sexuality. There was much talk of respecting the bound consciences of each other - acknowledging that people of faith can come to different conclusions on this (or any other) issue. The passage below (Romans 14:1-15:6) is talking about food - whether or not to eat clean or unclean foods - but I think that we could substitute a number of different words/issues for "food" and get the same message: there are people on one side of an issue who take that side in order to honor God...and there are people on the other side of an issue who also take that side in order to honor God. And in the end, it is not our positions that matter. It's our dispositions.

Welcome those who are weak in faith, but not for the purpose of quarreling over opinions. Some believe in eating anything, while the weak eat only vegetables. Those who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who abstain must not pass judgment on those who eat; for God has welcomed them. Who are you to pass judgment on servants of another? It is before their own lord that they stand or fall. And they will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make them stand. Some judge one day to be better than another, while others judge all days to be alike. Let all be fully convinced in their own minds. Those who observe the day, observe it in honor of the Lord. Also those who eat, eat in honor of the Lord, since they give thanks to God; while those who abstain, abstain in honor of the Lord and give thanks to God.

We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living. Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God. For it is written,

"As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me,
and every tongue shall give praise to God."
So then, each of us will be accountable to God.

Let us therefore no longer pass judgment on one another, but resolve instead never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of another. I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself; but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean. If your brother or sister is being injured by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. Do not let what you eat cause the ruin of one for whom Christ died. So do not let your good be spoken of as evil. For the kingdom of God is not food and drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. The one who thus serves Christ is acceptable to God and has human approval. Let us then pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding. Do not, for the sake of food, destroy the work of God. Everything is indeed clean, but it is wrong for you to make others fall by what you eat; it is good not to eat meat or drink wine or do anything that makes your brother or sister stumble. The faith that you have, have as your own conviction before God. Blessed are those who have no reason to condemn themselves because of what they approve. But those who have doubts are condemned if they eat, because they do not act from faith; for whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.

We who are strong ought to put up with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Each of us must please our neighbor for the good purpose of building up the neighbor. For Christ did not please himself; but, as it is written, "The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me." For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope. May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Not on the fence. But yet stuck in the middle.

It has been a long day, and a long few days at this summer's ELCA Churchwide Assembly. The biggest (though perhaps not the most important) issue to be discussed: the ordination of those in committed, same-sex relationships, and the church's ability to choose to recognize and affirm those relationships.

I won't lie. I have a particular viewpoint on those issues. I'm not going to pretend that my mind and heart don't have an opinion.

But that doesn't mean that I think clearly about the issue. It doesn't mean that I think that my viewpoint is obvious, nor do I claim that I have the corner on God's will. It doesn't mean that I take the Bible any more or less seriously than those who differ in opinion from me, and it doesn't mean that I don't have my own reservations or doubts about the opinion that I hold.

What it means is that, while I am not on the fence about the issue, I yet find myself stuck in the middle. Maybe it means that, while I have an opinion, I am not called to advocate for it. I rather feel that my contribution to the conversation and to my denomination is to be a voice of calm and understanding, to be a force for peace and unity, to be concerned with the heartache and struggle that have ensued on all sides of the issue. There are plenty of people doing meaningful work, advocating for the various sides of the issues. I don't think that the ELCA needs me to be one of those people.

I think that the ELCA needs me to pray for its pastors and congregations. I think that the ELCA needs me to feel joy with those who are feeling joy and to feel sorrow with those who are feeling sorrow. I think that the ELCA needs me to hang out in the midst of the complexities that led to this assembly, and to the new complexities that have been created by the vote.

I have followed the debate and voting today on Twitter and Facebook. I have read numerous blog posts and news articles, some more biased than others. And I have felt discouraged. I have been saddened by so much of what has been said on either side, demonizing those with whom they disagree, speaking from a position of certainty and self-righteousness rather than humility and grace, threats and fear-mongering and propaganda.

I am far less concerned with the outcome of the vote, and far more concerned with the way that the ELCA member churches, as well as all those Christian churches with whom we work ecumenically, choose to treat one another. Schism would be the obvious and easy way out. Instead, I can hope and pray that the Spirit will move among us and help to unite the church - the body of Christ - even in our disagreements. I can hope and pray that we can move beyond this issue and spend more time and energy on preaching God's good news of grace and salvation to a broken world, and spend more time feeding the hungry, lifting up the poor, working for justice and peace, seeking the health and wholeness of all those in need, and proclaiming a gospel not of fear but of hope, not of law but of grace, not of division, but unity in Christ.

In Whatever Condition You Were Called

I had a strange dream last night - Matt and I had decided to get married for a second time, and so we were having a smaller, family-oriented outdoor wedding. When we were nearing the time for communion (apparently we were having communion at our second wedding?), I looked around, and the bishop was nowhere to be found, so I hopped in a car with Matt's brother so that we could go track him down.

I'm pretty darn sure that this dream is 100% the by-product of beginning to plan my ordination service. It turns out that there are many similar details in planning both ordinations and weddings (invitations, picking the readings and the music, choosing participants, etc.). It seems that in my sleep, my brain mistook the ordination service planning for wedding planning, but was smart enough to remember that the bishop is a part of ordination, thus including him in my dream.

It's harder to plan an ordination that I had expected. There are plenty of rules and rubrics, and it's hard to sort through what is required, what is standard, and what is flexible. I've been trying to hunt down invitations, bulletins, and guidelines from other ordinations; seeing what I can find on google using combinations of the following words: Lutheran, ELCA, ordination, service, liturgy, planning, invitation.

It is strange to me that I haven't found much in the way of planning helps, and even stranger to me that I haven't stumbled upon many invitations or liturgies from other people's ordinations.

But even more disheartening to me is that, no matter what combination of search terms I use, the majority of the results that google spits out have to do with one of two issues: women's ordination (mostly discussions denouncing it), and GLBT ordination (some news articles, but mostly discussions denouncing it). I suppose that it makes sense; those who are most likely to be outspoken about the ELCA and ordination are those who have strong feelings about those issues, and it's much easier to voice opposing opinions than it is to voice agreement.

On a personal level, it's difficult for me to come across all of the anti-women's-ordination rhetoric while I'm searching and searching for materials to help me plan my own ordination. Regardless of the Biblical and theological arguments they make against it, regardless of the Biblical and theological arguments that I could make in support of it, what really gets to me is the callous tone with which these opponents denounce and condem something that is so deeply personal, so deeply vulnerable, so deeply serious to me. I do not take my sense of call lightly, nor do I take lightly all of the work, all of the process, all of the steps along the journey that have brought me to this place. It irks me that there are people out there who proof-text against my ability to be ordained, without stopping to consider the depths of what it means to feel called to the ministry, regardless of gender or even sexuality. It is so simple for these people to detach and lightly discount what it means to have a sense of call; it is so simple for them to tell people like me that I'm mistaken, that I can't possibly have been called, as if my sense of call were nothing more than a passing whim or act of rebellion.

There are many interesting Biblical and theological conversations to be had about the viability of women's ordination. There are people whom I love and respect who will probably come down on a different side of the issue than I do. But these are people who know me, who respect me, who do not merely dismiss my sense of call or try to scare me into giving up the ministry with threats of God's condemnation and hell and the like. At the end of the day, there are far more fruitful conversations to be had about the many and various ways God works through people and creation, rather than debates about the sorts of people and means through which God's grace is "allowed" to be shared.

However that may be, let each of you lead the life that the Lord has assigned, to which God called you. In whatever condition you were called, brothers and sisters, there remain with God. (1 Corinthians 7:17, 24)

Sigh.

The news cycle is bumming me out today:

Conservatives form new Anglican church

Aldermen approve Chicago parking meter lease

The Heart of the Matter

The prevailing conversation around church these days is about whether or not to change our worship schedule (again...we changed it last fall) given the fact that a handful of people in the congregation continue to stir up conflict on the issue. As the congregation and the church leadership have discussed the issue, however, we have begun to talk about the actual heart of the matter: what does it mean to be the church? That is to say, what is the purpose of the church as it exists as a place of faith within a larger world context of unfaith?

The church leadership feels strongly that the church is not a matter of creating/sustaining programs and placating tradition, but rather that the mission of the church is to form people of faith. This is in direct conflict with members of the church who value continuity, history, and tradition over faithful change. I'm not sure that those people clinging to "the way things were" are intentionally making a statement that human tradition is more important than God's future - I think that many people simply don't realize the implications of their desire to preserve the past. There's a lot of reframing to be done around here, as well as a lot of reconciliation.

It occurs to me that we, the church leaders, need to realize that we may never persuade some people - that there are people who will probably never change their opinions of what the church should be. We need to stop trying to convince people and we need to start the work of reconciliation. We need to start the work of healing relationships and finding unity even when we disagree. I'm doing some new thinking on healing and reconciliation these days, but that's a post for another time. For today, I simply want to reflect upon the center of our identity and purpose as the church, using the words of two theologians from different times and places:

Marva Dawn, in A Royal "Waste" of Time: The Splendor of Worshiping God and Being Church for the World:

The last thing churches should do if they want to worship well is conduct a survey asking members what they want for worship. What the people want might not be good for them, and our churches are in the business of forming Christians, not catering to consumerist choices. This is certainly a countercultural stance, for everyone (it seems) thinks that the Church should be a democracy. However, the true Church has never been – and ought never to be – a democracy. It is, primarily, a Spiritocracy, a Body with Christ as the Head, a charismacracy (my coined word to signify leadership by those exercising Spirit-endowed gifts, charisma in Greek)….In other words, this is the authority of the gifted community, under the Holy Spirit’s directions, talking together to create worship services that keep the focus on God, unite the members of the congregation into a genuine community, and form the believers to be faithful followers of Christ (195-6, 199).

C.S. Lewis, in Mere Christianity:

This is the whole of Christianity. There is nothing else. It is so easy to get muddled about that. It is easy to think that the Church has a lot of different objects—education, building, missions, holding services. Just as it is easy to think the State has a lot of different objects—military, political, economic, and what not. But in a way things are much simpler than that. The State exists simply to promote and to protect the ordinary happiness of human beings in this life. A husband and wife chatting over a fire, a couple of friends having a game of darts in a pub, a man reading a book in his own room or digging in his own garden— that is what the State is there for. And unless they are helping to increase and protect such moments, all the laws, parliaments, armies, courts, police, economics, etc., are simply a waste of time. In the same way the Church exists for nothing else but to draw people into Christ, to make them little Christs. If they are not doing that, all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible itself, are simply a waste of time. God became Man for no other purpose. It is even doubtful, you know, whether the whole universe was created for any other purpose.

Soap Box: The Cost of Reinventing Worship

I have finally (I think) put my finger on the source of my discomfort with alternative worship, that is, worship that attempts to distance itself from "old" or "organized" models of expression. Granted, my revelation only pertains to churches/denominations that have established and long-standing forms of worship rooted in some form of a biblical-historical-liturgical past.

We often attempt to reinvent or add creative spin to worship experiences for a variety of reasons: to increase accessibility, to re-imagine authenticity, to build community, to underscore a theme or a theology, to shake up the way things have always been done, to appeal to a younger audience, to resist hierarchy. Even our most well-founded and well-meaning attempts, however, become burdened with our own preferences, styles, and agendas. In the process of upheaving worship to reinvent it, too often it becomes an exercise in self-indulgence. Are we willing to implicitly or explicitly reject all that has come before - all the centuries of liturgical-theological development - for the sake of creativity? Are we willing to bear the burden of severing ties with the saints and the practices that have gone before us? Is it not arrogant and selfish to assume that we as individual or small groups of worship planners know better than centuries of liturgical-theological development? On some level, all attempts at rebuilding worship from the bottom up risk becoming an exercise in arrogance and self-propagation, since they begin by scrapping the way things have been done rather than refining existing practices. The question to ask when reinventing worship should not be, "Does this make worship more interesting?" Rather, the question should be, "Does this make worship more faithful?" And so, why would we not want to rely on our liturgical roots - on the ever-emerging faith of the saints over time - to guide us as we learn better how to worship the God who is present in the midst of our assembly?

My Humorous New Obsession

Friends of mine in the blog-world have recently been enjoying and remarking on the blog Stuff White People Like. It's sarcastic, sardonic, biting satire...I have to admit that I've checked it out in good humor, and am far less impressed than others are with it. I'm not sure if I'm just oversensitive, or if I'm just wired with too much defensiveness in me, or if I have a hard time appreciating satire that really really pushes the line on flat-out insult. But regardless, I appreciate the premise and execution, if not the content.

Yesterday, thanks to a random commenter on Adam's blog, I found a SWPL knock-off blog that has knocked my socks off. It's called Stuff Christians Like, and is a hilarious satire of church/Christian culture. If you have never thought about whether Christians are funny, or whether we appreciate the humor in our own situations, this blog is a great place to start.

Some of my personal favorites:

Saying "In Christian Love" before you punch someone.

The kid who makes out with girls from other youth groups.

Witnessing to people who don't believe in the Bible using the Bible.

The "pray if you feel led" prayer.

The Double Sermon.

Giving open flames to kids on Christmas Eve.

The G(DTR).

Committees on Committees about Committees.

In God's Name

Stephan Crasneanscki, ©2007
Update: For more information and for a six-minute trailer, visit www.elca.org/ingodsname.

I was browsing the ELCA website today and found a press release about a special entitled In God's Name that will air on CBS on Sunday, December 23.

This show will document 12 different religious leaders from around the world, each of them speaking about their faith and their faith-laden worldviews. It's a diverse list of people and faith traditions (including the Presiding Bishop of the ELCA), and I am beyond excited to watch it.

At other times I've openly bemoaned the skewed media perception of faith and religion, especially in terms of American Christianity. I do get tired of feeling that the media assumes Pat Robertson speaks for all Christians, or that the non-Pat-Robertson side of Christianity in America is easily represented by Catholic priests. This is quite the generalization, I know, but I feel that when you watch the History Channel or CNN seek out a faith-viewpoint, more often than not you get either a spokesperson from the far Christian right or you get a Catholic priest. I honestly feel that a "mainline" perspective is often lacking.

This show, however, looks like it will bring a new and refreshing public face to faith in general and to Christianity. The Christian leaders in this special represent the Catholic Church, the Russian Orthodox Church, the Church of England, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and the Southern Baptist Convention. What a nice mix of Christian traditions and viewpoints!

I have high hopes for this special. Not only do the pictures on the website give me hope that it's going to be aesthetically pleasing, but also the vibe I get from reading the intent and synopsis of the special gives me hope that it can reveal some underlying truths about the profound power of faith-laden worldviews. In a world that more and more needs a renewal of hope, these faithful voices can remind us that God indeed is in the business of resurrection, renewal, and recreation.

Am I expecting too much from this show? Probably. But does it yet make me curiously excited? Without a doubt!

May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us, that your way may be known upon earth, your saving power among all nations. Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you. Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you judge the peoples with equity and guide the nations upon earth. Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you. The earth has yielded its increase; God, our God, has blessed us. May God continue to bless us; let all the ends of the earth revere him. (Psalm 67)

What is it Worth?

So it's been a little while since my last substantive post, I realize. For one thing, things here have just simply gotten busy. But also, it's one of those time when there is so much to say that there is nothing to say at all.

The question rattling around in my head right now is "What is it worth?" (Yeah, you know me and my creative post titles...) And by this I mean that I feel the conflicting emotions of a church that is going through messy times. The truth is, of course, that all churches are messy. You've put together a group of people who are always struggling with how best to live in community and carry out God's work in the world. Churches are made up of people who, on account of their common faith, value things like peace and grace...but who also suffer from pressure to keep up the appearance of peace and grace instead of feeling the freedom to be honest, as if a face-to-face disagreement would run counter to faith itself. Churches are made up of people who, whether they acknowledge it or not, consistently engage in matters of ultimacy: sin, grace, faith, life, death, innermost desires and beliefs. And so the life of the church is something that is deeply intertwined with the innermost parts of people's lives - the vulnerable parts. This is why hurts that happen in the church sting and scar more than hurts that happen elsewhere.

And so, especially in difficult times, I wonder what it is that keeps people coming back on Sunday mornings. I wonder what makes it worth it to people to keep moving forward in ministry. I wonder what makes it worth it to remain loyal to faith, or loyal to the Church, or loyal to this particular church or that particular church.

I get spooked easily, I should admit that. I get anxious when I hear about church divisions, or people leaving the church, or embracing alternative ways of being church or doing faith that imply a rejection of the worth of the historic church. I have unknowingly developed a passion for the church and its mission. I have developed a strong (perhaps overly strong?) sense of the worth of the church, and I want to defend that worth with all I have. I suppose that it's a personal fear, really. As I continue along the path to ordination, I continue along a path toward dedicating my whole life to the service of the church. If the church has no worth, then neither does my call. If the church isn't worth fighting for, then neither is future ordination. If there is no worth to the Church, or this church or that church, or to the community of faith, then I feel helpless and duped. If the church isn't worth anything, then what is wrong with me that I feel fed by it and feel passionately about its survival?

So that's why I get so hung up on this question of worth. I know that there are plenty of people who believe that the church is worthwhile, necessary, fruitful, nourishing. But when things get messy (as they always tend to do), sometimes it's too easy to listen to the negative voices and want to give in to the people who are abandoning ship. It's too easy to see only those who are giving up and making the decision that ministry isn't worth fighting for.

Every church is messy. And yet communities of faith have prevailed and continue to prevail over the difficult times. I want to believe that the book of Hebrews is speaking to people in a similar quandary over the life of faith in messy times when it offers this encouragement:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1-2)

I Think I Need Spring

The gray days are getting to me, I think.

I've been in a weird mood the past couple days. Today in chapel it occurred to me that the word "disillusioned" might be the best one to describe what I'm feeling.

Part of this has to do with being in school, and being only vaguely attached to it. I'm a commuter, I'm only here for one year, and I'm taking many repeat sorts of classes. I feel unattached to what goes on here, therefore, and it's causing me to become disillusioned with what it means to be a student. Also, I keep wondering what all this studying is really about. At what point does just knowing more stuff really matter anymore? Mind you, this is coming from the girl who is still considering a Ph.D. I'm not ready to turn away from the academy, but I am starting to feel a bit closed in. Everyone (including me) has their passions - some love studying languages, some love reading liberation theology, some love multicultaral ministry studies, some love working through Paul's letters, some (like me) love liturgy and preaching courses. And we all want to believe that our passions are important to the greater world. But...are they? And at what point are we fooling ourselves if believing that being an expert on Paul or in Hebrew will actually better-equip us for service in the world? And in the same way that I wanted to just escape school/seminary for a while, so also did I feel as if I wanted to escape my future place in a parish for a while. The seminary and the parish are insular. I don't feel trapped by them, but I do feel padded in and perhaps oversheltered by them. I feel as if these two spheres, when they are the only spheres in my life, are trying to convince me that the other parts of my life/work/world aren't as important, and that these noble institutions are the best lens through which to view the world. That my passions, interests, anxieties, etc. are best-filtered through both school and parish. I sort of feel that these two spheres are trying to hold an exclusive claim on me, and I really wish that I could be free of them for a while. There's a luxury to spending 40+ hours a week devoted to God and God's service (and preparation for it), but insofar as it is a luxury, I am starting to feel about it the same way that I do about other luxuries. A little guilty, a little wasteful, perhaps a little detached from what is necessary, feeling the need to be a bit more frugal with my life.

The church is absolutely necessary, I believe that. And as that institution is so important, so also are the pastors who lead it. And so also are the professors who teach the seminarians who will be those pastors. I'm not saying that seminary, church, school, etc. are wrong, bad, or anything like that. In the midst of them, I know their worth. But right now, I personally feel walled in by them, as if my own identity is becoming fused with the identities of church/school, and that makes me squirmy.

Time to give up? (A minor rant.)

I'm exhausted.

How do pastors and theologians do it? How do they go day by day and live with the sorts of interdenominational and intradenominational arguments that flare up over "right doctrine" and not feel completely useless and defeated?

At what point does believing in Christ not matter anymore? At what point does the church as body of Christ not exist? I'm Lutheran (ELCA), I have Presbyterian and Roman Catholic and Episcopal and Baptist friends. And other Christian friends as well. If we are all sinners, who are redeemed by God's grace through our faith in Christ, then why do we get so hung up on doctrine? We do things differently. But does that mean that we are of different worth in God's eyes? At what point did we get so wrapped up in our own churches and our own theologies that we elevated doctrine above faith when considering salvation? At what point did we abandon the merits of Christ for the merits of our own doctrinal beliefs?

How many times will I have to be told that unity by faith in Christ is a newfangled liberal notion before I decide that maybe I'm just wrong and everyone else is right? How much longer before I realize that perhaps I was wrong to think that a world broken by sin and death needs grace more than it needs doctrine?

When is it time to just give up?

Missing the point

I've been following an interesting discussion thread on myspace, of all places, that was set up to be a discussion betweeen members of Evangelical Lutheran Church of America and the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod as to our differences and similarities. There was no doubt that this discussion would descend into an argument about who is right, especially in terms of inerrancy of Scripture and right adherence to the Lutheran confessions. It quickly became a "the ELCA is too liberal" vs. "the LCMS is too conservative and close-minded" argument. I decided to toss in my two cents. (Probably not the smartest move, but I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut sometimes, especially when Christians are mean to each other under the guise of "Christian love.")

A few thoughts:

First of all, in terms of the "inerrancy of Scripture" debate. I appreciate both sides of it and know that the issue is quite important in the faith formation of either side of the debate. I wonder, though, if it might not be time to stop trying to convert each other and instead talk about the central tenets of our collective faith that bind us together no matter what our view of Scripture.

That being said, I take pride in my Lutheranism, and while I agree with whomever posted earlier about the fact that Christianity itself is bigger and more important than our own individual denominations, I feel a special affinity to Lutheranism because of what I believe to be the core focus of our beliefs: That we are justified by grace, through faith, and redeemed from our sinful and broken existence through Christ's life, death, and resurrection. We are dead to the Law, which only condemns us, but alive in the Gospel of Christ's saving work on the cross and God's free gift of grace.

I suppose that my question, then, is if we as Lutherans can agree on that statement of faith (and this is assuming that we can agree on it), then why are we so concerned about whether or not we do the the sacraments or do Scripture interpretation "correctly"? I'm not saying this to be cheeky or disrespectful, you have to understand that. I just get really frustrated when we begin to argue about the specifics of the way we "do" Christianity as if that were what saved us.

Perhaps I also feel that it is ironic that we, as Lutherans, are having this sort of problem. I was taught in my Lutheran formation is that works do not save us, faith does. Or more specifically, our works do not save us, Christ does. If that is true (which I truly hope it is!), then arguing as to whether or not the ELCA or LCMS is "doing it right" seems counter our Lutheran heritage. Didn't Martin Luther want to change a church system that, during his time, made salvation a matter of "doing" church and faith correctly?

If the conversation between ELCA and LCMS Lutherans continues to be a conversation about whether or not the other is "doing" Lutheranism correctly - in terms of the act of Scripture interpretation, or the act of interpreting the Confessions, or in terms of doing the Sacraments - then aren't we missing the point? It's not what we do that saves us, and by no means does "getting it right" save us (because, seriously, our sinfulness means that we will NEVER get it right).

We are saved by our faith in Christ.

It's fun to debate the peripherals. But isn't it possible for us to at least nod in agreement to that central claim about ourselves both as Lutherans and as Christians?

Toward a Philosophy of Church Music: Draft 1

the following post is a paper i just submitted for the class i'm taking at westminster choir college, "church music and the christian faith." the professor, dr. robin leaver, is my hero, i've decided.


Toward a Philosophy of Church Music: Draft 1

Music itself is a gift of expression. Inasmuch as we attribute beauty, creativity, and emotion to the goodness of God’s creation, it follows that music itself is created by God for human use. This gift of God gives us the ability to portray meaning in a multi-dimensional fashion. Music draws faith out of the realm of mere logic and exposition. It taps into a different part of the soul, where ideas can be expressed through tone and sound. Church music, even in its most practical functions, is still art. It is still the gift of creativity and expression given to humanity by a God whose majesty is so great that we need a variety means by which to express it. Music as art is a powerful image of the Christian life itself.

Church music is distinct from other sorts of music. It is within the community of faith that we offer back to God that which God has first given us. Just as we are stewards of the rest of God’s creation – using and protecting that which we have been given, all for God’s glory – the gift of musical expression is at once gift and offering. Church music, unlike other types of music, carries with it this burden of stewardship. As such, it is for the glory of God alone. Whether we be offering up music of prayer or praise, lament or exultation, fear or faith; we owe our music and our expression to God. Church music is not a tool of evangelism, though it is certainly evangelical. It is not for the purpose of bringing God down to us, but rather for exalting God on high. It is not a manipulative tool to inspire emotion, but it is an expression of the depth of our faith. This is not to imply that church music cannot ever be edifying. However, the intent and purpose of our music is to offer back to God that which he has given us, for this God is both the subject and object of our worship.

Because music exists independently of language, music binds together the human experience. Within the community of faith, church music binds together human experiences and understandings of God and thus unifies our worship. If music truly does have the power to transcend thought and word, how much more does church music have the power to express the deepest and most inward parts of our faith! In gratitude, we accept God’s gift of expression, and in humility, we offer our creativity to God’s service and praise. All music is God’s gift. Church music is distinctly offering – the paradox of presenting freely to God that which we owe God: our praise.



[ironically, just as i'm posting this, the professor of the class i'm currently sitting in just said "i'm the only person on this planet that thinks we should get rid of church choirs." (yes, i'm posting during a rather boring class. ) i'm completely flabbergasted that he would stand up and say that. to me, it is indicative of the mindset of theologians and theological schools: music is assumed to be merely decorative. musician-theologians have a deeper understanding of the intimate relationship between music and theology, and the necessity of music in worship. i believe this very strongly. argue with me if you want, but that's how i feel.]

$16,000 Krispy Kreme budget

the new face of megachurches...

the soul of the new exurb
(ny times magazine, 3.27.05)

identity crisis

now that i've had a day to process my raw thoughts about my experiences at .bE, i want to spend a little more time talking about what was really going on with me last night.

i read the imformation about Emergent before .bE began. i felt hurt by what i had read, and because of that i know that i didn't give the .bE experience the chance it deserved. i still wonder why the push for Emergent had to come in a context such as .bE -- as if it clouded the purpose of our worship. if our worship was a time to simply be in the presence of Christ, then i don't know that it was helpful or appropriate to advertise Emergent at the same time. i will return to my thoughts and feelings sparked by Emergent in a moment.

but first, back to .bE. i think that i was expecting something different of the evening - that the space would be set for guided worship, where the guided worship was the main thrust. looking back, i realize that perhaps the opening guided worship was just that: an opening. i left as soon as that was over, without experiencing any of the prayer stations, frustrated by Emergent (see above paragraph) and curiously disturbed by, what felt to me, a lack of guided theological movement or authority, especially in terms of any assurance of grace for the sinner or a description of a Christ whose presence was not dependent upon my own efforts. i know now that choosing to use the stations would have helped me to understand the concept of the evening better, whether or not i would have agreed with what its theology. that is to say, i didn't look at the whole .bE experience and for that i am unfit to make a judgement on the evening, but only express my regret for not giving it a fair chance.

as for Emergent. this is where my identity crisis comes in. i returned to my room, shaken by what i had read (see the quote in last night's post). i felt weighed down by insecurities and fears. i didn't even have the spiritual or emotional resources to get defensive. i just got sad: i sat down and cried.

here i am, at seminary, dedicating my life to the service of the church. i am feeling called to be ordained in an organized and mainline church that has not only served me well spiritually and theologically, but has demonstrated an authentic love for and service in the world. if the institutional church is as theologically bankrupt or stagnant or irrelevant as Emergent says, then what am i doing here? am i mistaken in believing that traditional churches do indeed demonstrate dynamic faith? that isn't sasrcasm -- i am truly asking that out of fear. i fear that i am about to devote my life to a failure. i fear that as we try harder and harder to make church accessible, we actually encourage people to reject traditional forms of worship. and that scares me. is the calling i feel merely an illusion? where can i find my worth as a pastor? what if there is no space for me in the Christian or church world anymore?

i am scared, and as i said last night, i feel defeated. i feel like i have worked so hard to speak theologically about worship and tradition (and be extension, the institutional church). sometimes i wonder if i just shouldn't bother anymore, if i should just give in to the creation of a new status quo in the church...

i feel helpless, and i really do feel like i'm in the midst of an identity crisis. how can i be a pastor in a worldview that has no more space for me?

.bE (yes, it's my third post of the day...)

after tonight's .bE worship service (be still and know that i am God!), here are my raw thoughts:

as for the description of given of The Emerging Church "movement":
"emergent is not for people whose primary concern is to defend cherished modern institutions and formulations. true, those who wish to help modern institutions be refounded for the emerging culture will be an essential part of the emergent community, but emergent's greatest loyalty is to dynamic christian life and mission in the present and future...not the survival of modernity's institutions and formulations."

thank you, emergent, for telling me that i cannot be living a dynamic christian life since i find spiritual gratification in an institutional church and feel that the traditions of the church are crucial to our emerging culture.

as for the worship time itself:
candles are pretty, projected images are nice to look at, chant is nice to listen to (i love it), incense smells good...i felt the multisensory push. i didn't feel spiritually fed. i felt pressure to "feel" God and pressure to "experience" spirituality, and that if i truly had faith i could experience what you wanted me to experience. i wish i could remember where i read a description of liturgy that turns the faith-experience connection on its head. the author spoke of how liturgy builds faith by acting faithful. that is, we don't start with faith and then act on it, but rather we literally practice our faith. moreover, the importance of the liturgy is that even when i'm not feeling strong in faith, the enactment of faith by the worshiping community surrounds me, carries me, speaks the words that i don't have the strength to say.

and i wish that tonight would have looked at BEING with Christ not as an act that i can perform -- not as something that i can achieve if i only work hard enough -- but rather that tonight would have spoken of a Christ who chooses to BE with us! i don't have to climb up the ladder to be with God, because Christ became incarnate in order to be with me. and not me personally, but for the sake of all humanity. give me a theology of grace and incarnation; a theology of the cross where i know that Christ died for me not because i was worthy, and certainly not because i could reach God if i only meditate enough or pray hard enough or sing with enough devotion.


i went tonight as a skeptic. i admit that. but i still went. i struggle with what it means to be Christ in and for the world, and i struggle with the place of the church in that mission. i feel defeated. i feel like i have no voice. i fear that i am about to devote my life to the pastorate -- to a mainline, traditional, institutional denomination -- just in time for the emergent church to swat me down. i get tired of defending the worth of church-as-institution. i get tired of defending the theological richness of hymns and the profound theological movements to liturgy. i get tired because no one listens. and i get sad because no one cares...or rather, because "postmodern" or "emergent" or "alternative" forces are telling Christians not to care. maybe i'm just a dying breed...

i feel dejected.

the sneaky things we don't say until we think no one is listening

i'm curiously fascinated these days with a consuming and almost incestuous network of blogs by what i would call "alternative" christians. when i say alternative, i don't mean that their christianity itself is anything different than anyone else's -- they hold to the basic tenets of christian faith: human sin, God's grace given through Jesus' life, death, resurrection. but they are alternative in terms of their views about the manifestation of christianity in the world.

on one hand, i certainly applaud their persistent focus on authenticity. oh the word "authentic"...i lament over it. i love the word. i love all that it used to imply: being true to oneself, being true to the character of belief, being true to the witness of God in the Bible, trying to give life its authenticity by being wholly real in faith. but that word "authentic" has now assumed a new set of connotations, many of which i find abrasive.

i worry about all the musing (complaining?) i read about the plight of the mainstream, traditional church. i feel like some of these writers want mainline traditions to "see the light" about our postmodern world and the needs of our youths, and then comform to what they believe to be the "model" church of this new era. i am fascinated by postmodernity, perhaps more than most people that i know. i take great interest in the idea that individual stories are becoming our new reality; that language is symbolic; that truth-claims are suspect; that we might be left with no rational ground to elevate one set of truths over another...i think that the challenges of postmodernity certainly do affect how we must think about the church, about worship, and about christianity itself.

what i wonder, however, is whether or not some of these writers really are thinking about postmodernity when they spout out praises for alternative churches, alternative methods of ministry, alternative spirituality, etc. i think that they are confused.

to these people, postmodern worship is really a misnomer for what used to be called "contemporary worship." as they see a postemodern fragmentation of Truth, they believe that simply changing worship styles will address the needs of people who may or may not believe that Truth exists, but rather that truths exist.

everyone is quick to criticize the media today. we talk about the fragmented images that we see; the evils of advertising that univocally demoralizes us into believeing that our true worth lies in what we consume, what we buy; the disjointedness of a world where we effortlessly hear about the horrors in the world (wars, disasters, poverty, hunger), and yet end up feeling only despair because we don't know what we can do; the media reinforces in our youth dangerous standards of beauty and morality....all in all, i feel like it is trendy to reject the media as a force that eats away at us from the inside, leaving us empty and jaded. but then these advocates of postmodern christianity turn right around and push forward worship that is as gimmicky and technology-centered as the media that they choose to criticize.

i have great concern that they are confusing postmodern with nontraditional. and not only confusing the two, but using the word "postmodern" as a sideways attempt to caricature mainline denomonations and to turn them into the enemy. they do not seek to transform the church from within, no matter what they say. today, i read a blogger account of someone's previous experience in my home church. he posited himself as a hero who distributed a packet about "new" and "postemodern" and "nontraditional" ideas about the Church to the church staff in hopes of starting discussion. and when discussion didn't happen (that is, when the church didn't jump to agree with him), he accused the church of ignorning him, and called the senior pastor a "ceo" who ran the church as a business, taking all authority and not listening to anyone else.

i was infuriated. i hate the way in which we spin our stories to make ourselves the victimized heros, how we only tell the details that will support our case. his account took for granted the notion that every church should want to launch itself into contemporary ideas about worship. he didn't bother to think about the responsibility a pastor has to his congregation -- CHANGE FOR THE SAKE OF CHANGE IS WORTHLESS! a church is a hard think to keep in balance. don't you dare go calling a pastor a "ceo" to insult him until you have gone and tried to keep a church organized and running. seminary and my field ed. has taught me that there is more to being a pastor than simply coming up with new spiritualities and worship styles to match what is happening in the culture. being a pastor means shepherding a congregation, which means that you have to be as sensitive to the needs of your congregation as you are to the needs of the world. it sounds horrible, but part of being a pastor IS being an effective administrator. as much as we would like the job to be 100% about God 100% of the time, unfortunately bills need to be paid, people need to be organized, programs need to be supervised...there are so many details that need to be taken care of. i fear that people are short-sighted about what a pastor has to do in order keep balance in a church and in his or her own life.

don't you dare insult a church staff simply because they didn't see a need for change, and don't you dare insult a church whose members feel fed spiritually, who feel comfortable with tradition, who see authentic christianity displayed from both pew and pulpit. it isn't fair to insult a church who didn't immediately do handsprings for your own agenda. isn't it possible that some people might actually feel connected to God through traditions that "postmoderns" might consider out-of-date? any of us in the church must take care to discern what is important to the church versus what is important to us.

these postmodern-authentic-contemporary people expect that their new and faddish views of the church should immediately be accepted by everyone. i feel like they find no worth in traditional practices. they work so hard at trying to figure out how to bring in people from a postmodern society that they ignore the spiritual needs of those people aready in the church. i feel like they assume that mainline worship is not authentic nor spiritually fulfilling. they say they want to transform the church. but really, they look like the just want to change the church. there is a difference. if they truly cared about transforming the church, they wouldn't try a one-size-fits-all approach.

you must transform a church when a church needs transforming and in an appropriate way given the traditions and needs of that individual church. and that means working with a church to transform from the inside out.

perhaps transformation is less about changing worship and more about changing people's attitudes towards worship. or perhaps transformation means taking a critical (not criticizing) look at the tradition of the church, and fixing what is lacking in its understanding of the gospel and the honest communication thereof.

maybe a high liturgical church isn't your style, but when viewed critically, the liturgy of the church authenticallypresents the gospel to those who come to the church. maybe the lives of the members are overflowing with faith, grace, and dynamic witness. but i feel like so many of these "postmoderns" would have no problem telling this church that their christian witness was inauthentic and ineffective.

i hate that church has to be effective. to these alternative christians, i want to say that one size does NOT fit all. and if they are going to be so hasty as to say that postmodern concerns necessitate churches that fit people's diverse needs, then they need to be able to accept mainline tradition as one of those needs. instead of trying to sound radical and postmodernly wise, maybe you should take a better look at what it means to be authentic, and what it means to show grace to your fellow brothers and sisters in christ. stop using words like "postmodern" and "alternative" and even "authentic" as backhanded slams to an institutional church that has persisted and lasted over time. stop trying to tell mainline denominations that they aren't working. stop assuming that everyone who doesn't go for your alternative expressions of worship is the enemy.

now i have to hold myself up to the same scrutiny. i, too, am writing with an agenda. i, too, run the danger of thinking that everyone should agree with me. and i know that in my frustration, i have said some brash and insulting things.

i just wonder if there isn't some way that all opinions about the face of christianity, especially the face of the church, could be held as valid. i would say that alternative-minded christians have a distinct role as the fathers of new churches. i think that their ideas and concerns are valuable as forms of christian witness, and that their efforts will be crucial in the formation of new worship spaces and communities. i also think that they may offer some distinct wisdom to struggling churches, or churches that recognize a need for updating. but i also think that there are and can be successful churches that don't work on an alternative model. and it's no good if those churches aren't respected.

moving forward is crucial. i just don't need a group of alternative christianity theorists telling me that theirs is the only way to do so.