The Debt Crisis - What Would Jesus Do?

It is interesting to me that, with many of the folks who are demanding that the debt ceiling not be raised until we have a constitutional amendment requiring a balanced budget, little to nothing has come forth regarding their religious reasons for wanting such. Any other time, the religious fervor is worn on the sleeves, and many speak forth on behalf of the Almighty. Those voices have been strangely silent in the midst of the mess that is Washington. Could it be that there is a sense of embarrassment regarding cuts in social program that many in the Tea Party and the Republican party are calling for. Is there is sense of dis-ease in trying to defend not demanding an end to tax breaks for the wealthiest Americans and corporations? After all, sacrifices are being called for by.....well, by the middle class and poor. With all of the political blather aside, it becomes very difficult to justify such a philosophy in the name of Jesus when he was squarely on the side of the poor. And why have not the mainline religious folk been calling the political/pseudo-prophets on the carpet about this hypocrisy? Well, actually, they have been doing just that. Members of The Interfaith Alliance were arrested for peacefully protesting in the capitol. Walter Wink wrote about the power of domination systems to control the discussion and squelch dissent. We are seeing it on full display. Those of us who claim to be followers of Christ had best not be silent in all of this. When the immediate crisis has passed and the election cycle revs up and candidates and incumbents begin speaking self-righteously about the kind of country that God wants and Jesus demands, we had best not be silent. Lives are on the line here. The poor have been punished and pushed to the fringes in the richest country in the world, because their presence among us in an inconvenient reminder of our calling. It's time for religious people to take up the oft' quoted phrase, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!"

Sitting in Silence, but Not in Church

Earlier today I found myself sitting in silence, not wanting to hear anyone speak, and not wanting to leave the place. However, the lights came up and we had to go out of the theater to make room for people attending the next showing. There have been precious few times during my life when a film caused me to sit in awe and wonder. The Elephant Man was that kind of film, as was Chariots of Fire. I had not planned on seeing The Tree of Life, but I had read several reviews during the past week, including one published in the Christian Century, and they were very good reviews. There are so few films worth seeing these days that I really do pay attention when many agree on the merits of a particular film. So, I went in to see the film not knowing what to expect, aside from the common wisdom that one will not understand all of it, rather like 2001: A Space Odyssey. I was one of the few people in my college dorm who liked that movie, probably because I had read the book in high school and had figured out at least most of it, except for the ending. From the moment Tree of Life began, I was taken into the story and the images and the music. I won't give away the plot or the scenes other than to say that portions of all of our lives are touched upon during that film.  Life, death, God, prayer, family, fairness and unfairness, adolescence...it's all there. I thought the movie had ended several times before it did, and I could not even guess what was coming next.
I was sad that the lights came up the moment the credits began. I wanted to sit there and allow it to wash over me. It seemed somehow sacrilegious to speak, because the journey I had just been on took me to holy ground. I will spend good portions of time during the coming weeks pondering the film and its images and the places whence I was transported. I will relive difficult moments in my own life that came to mind while viewing it, and I will look back fondly on simpler times during my early life. I have read reviews since viewing the film written by those who have no patience for messages that are not obvious, people whose attention spans are barely longer that that of gnats. And some were dismayed that a religious message could possibly be found in the film, as if that, if it does in fact exist there, cheapened the artistic merit of said film. I think of about the only phrase I recall in reading Schliermacher in divinity school, when he directed one of his works to his friends, the "cultured despisers of religion." So, if you can find an art theater that is showing this film, because the commercial chains will not touch something so ponderous, go and take a look. How often do you have occasion to sit in silence and awe and wonder?

Going Back to the Wellspring

I have written previously about the spiritual regeneration that occurred when I began to attend a local Episcopal church back in January. I continue to love the ritual, theology and social justice outlook of the church. We have just returned from visiting our daughter and son-in-law in England, and it was inevitable that we should attend the Anglican services there. First, we attended the Sunday service at the little church in the village where our son-in-law's family resides. It happened to be the annual service where the church recognized the local civic leaders. The building itself is ancient, going back to the middle ages. The service was not what I expected, as it was very Methodist in many ways, and not the high ritual I had hoped for. Still, it was nice to experience life in a small village church.
The next day we traveled to Durham, home of one of the most ancient cathedrals in Europe. We had been there before, many years ago, so it was not a new experience in that regard. However, the day held a nice surprise for me. It so happened that an afternoon Eucharistic service was offered, and so my wife and daughter and I attended. The service was very similar to the weekly service at our local cathedral church, and that was wonderful. Couple that with the ancient surroundings, in a cathedral that was already centuries old when the Church of England was born, and the service took on special meaning. I kept thinking of the phrase "so great a cloud of witnesses" as I thought about the tens of thousands who had worshiped there before me for almost one thousand years. In addition, having our daughter worship with us, knowing how deeply her faith affects her life in a country where not a great many young adults attend church, was a deeply moving experience. I guess I am writing this to encourage anyone who may read these words to seek out a congregation that nourishes you in a way the meets your own unique needs. For me, it meant choosing a denomination other than the one in which I was ordained, and that has caused me a great deal of soul-searching. I have always loved the beauty of the ritual and majesty of the Anglican tradition, and felt guilty for not being satisfied with the continual diluting of the ritual of my own denomination, which is a direct descendant of the Anglican Communion. While many prefer a simple service with "praise" music and very little ritual, I find the ancient rituals, coupled with the choral music of the masters, to be a spiritual experience like no other. Whatever your tradition, learn its history and seek to understand why the service is conducted the way in which it is, and you will find added enrichment to your own spiritual tradition.