What About The Shack?

Though I tend to shy away from popular theology and psychology books, I thought I would give The Shack, by Wm. Paul Young a read. Having done so, I am not sure what I think about the book. I cannot escape the suspicion that Young has read Dorothy Bryant's The Kin of Ata Are Waiting for You, which predates his book by at least thirty years. His book does challenge one's preconceptions about God's appearance, and I am for anything that dares us to think of God in new and unusual ways. I don't agree with Eugene Peterson's blurb on the front cover that this book will "do for our generation what John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress did for his." I should confess here that
I am not a fan of The Message, so Peterson will not sell me on many things. I wonder why it is that Americans jump on books such as The Shack. I think it has to do with a desire to get at some kind of eternal truth, but not requiring the effort of long-term deep thought and study. Young's work does not require much deep reading, though it is not without some shining moments. There is just one line in the book that stays with me, where a Jesus-like character is speaking affirmatively about the many religions of the world and people's ideas about God. And so the subject of the book, Mack, asks if that means that all roads lead to God. The Jesus character replies, "No, but I will travel down any road to find you." Aside from that, I don't think that the book breaks any new ground, especially when it comes to dealing with tragedy. Try as we may, there is no way to make tragedy easier to understand. Truth is, very bad things happen to people, regardless of how religious they may, or may not, be. Without giving away the plot of the book, I think Young copped out and did not address the agony of Mack in dealing with his tragedy. I think Dorothy Bryant did a better job of that in the above-mentioned book.
So, do not count me as a member of The Shack bandwagon.

Summer is a Time for Reading

I don't know about you, but summertime is a great time for me to do some free reading. Since classes have ended, I have more time to read, though I still work at the office daily. I have read through most of Parting the Waters: America in the King Years, 1954-1963 by Taylor Branch. It is volume I of a trilogy, and the other books, Pillar of Fire: America in the King Years, 1963-1965 and At Canaan's Edge: America in the King Years, 1965 - 1968 are waiting on my night stand.
I tend to have several books going at once, as do many other folks. I am also reading Jesus Was a Liberal by Scotty McClennan. So far, I have found it refreshing to read someone who, also a university chaplain, thinks in many ways as do I. I also picked up recently I Was a Stranger: A Christian Theology of Hospitality by Arthur Sutherland. Another volume that I intend to get through before school starts is Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashionable Enemies by David Bentley Hart. Hart is a scholar who takes on Hitchens, Dawkins and others and states that their "revolutionary" arguments are nothing new.It's a deep read, so I will breathe deeply while wading through it.
If you have a favorite book that others who look at this blog may find of interest, please comment and we can all read it there. Have a great summer and happy reading to you!

A Glimpse of the Kingdom

The academic year has ended, Commencement commenced and now I prepare for next year. I forget, sometimes, how little life on a college campus has in common with the outside world. Take yesterday, for instance. I was chatting with someone who recounted, in horror, the time that her daughter brought home a guy of another race. This person and I grew up in the same region of the country, so I knew the mindset out of which she was speaking. However, I found myself taken aback and not able to identify with her feelings of shock and disapproval. There was another instance, recently, when I was talking with someone and the subject of same-sex attraction came up. Immediately, it was obvious that we were not on the same page regarding the subject.
These instances, and others that I could cite, attest to the world in which I live and work. It is a world in which the population changes every four years and life seems always in a state of flux for that reason. I lead worship services for a congregation that is racially mixed oftentimes, and I forget that such is not the case in many places of worship in the United States today. I meet with students who are looking for advocates to help sustain their efforts to bring attention to instances of injustice in the world, and , sometimes, on campus. In such a small community as a liberal arts college, folks get to know one another well. More so than on the outside, students become protective of one another, even if they don't share one another's ideologies or political or religious beliefs. Therefore, whenever I chat with someone who does not work in such an environment, I am caught off guard sometimes by an individual's fear of someone from a middle-eastern country, or a person of another race, or of someone who is gay or someone who has differing political views.
You see, I work with young adults who often make stupid choices regarding alcohol consumption and can be promiscuous sexually, though the majority are not. But these young people are also determined to be more accepting of those with whom they differ, and who are less likely to think that race or ethnicity matter in relationships as much as folks of my generation do. I can offer new interpretations of the Gospel that would cause an uproar in the parish, but here, such ideas about Jesus' concern for all people and my enthusiasm for interfaith cooperation are met with joy and a willingness to explore new avenues of ministry. So, it occurs to me that, though life in an academic community can exhaust one in ways unimagined outside the campus perimeter, life here is shot through with idealism, energy and hope. Working with students who are so accepting of one another gives me a glimpse of the kingdom of God that not many get to see.

F.O.G. - F.O.J. John 15:9-17

When Bill Clinton was running for president, and afterward, members of his inner circle were known as F.O.B.'s, as in, Friends of Bill. Barry Chance, writing in the on-line source, Join the Feast, speaks of the people who practice the kind of love Jesus talks about in John 15 as Friends of God and Friends of Jesus. The love which John describes, agape love, is a selfless giving for others. It was the kind of love that defined Jesus. In John's gospel, those whom Jesus loves are defined as philios, the friends of Jesus who experienced that transforming love. Gandhi is said to have stated that he liked the tenets of Christianity very much. He never converted to Christianity because he said that he did not see Christians living out the love that Jesus proclaimed.
On more than one occasion, my wife has turned to me and stated that she is very glad that I chose a career in ministry in higher education as opposed to life as a parish pastor. And she knows that of which she speaks; I was a parish pastor for more than seven years. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I experienced such transformative love and encouragement as a young divinity school graduate by the folks of my first parish. Later, I served a small parish in another state, and one of the churches on that circuit exemplified some of the most unloving behavior that either my wife or I had ever experienced. She stopped attending the women's group because most of the time was spent gossipping about women who were not in attendance. Don't get me wrong; there is nastiness everywhere, including among students on a college or university campus. However, I have seen more evidence of the transformative power of love and acceptance in the lives of the students with whom I work than I have the less attractive side of life. Young adults can have a tremendous capacity for changing their minds and opening themselves to new ideas. I see so much less of the hatred towards some segments of society when I am with them than I read about in church publications or hear at annual conference. I have met so many young adults who are F.O.G.'s and F.O.J.'s. They live out the kind of love that Jesus talks about in John's gospel, the kind of love that some folks in the church deram about but despair of seeing come to fruition. Perhaps these same young adults will lead the way towards helping the church reclaim that love that is visible, certainly in some churches and faith communitites, but nearly enough of them.

Abiding Love - John 15:1-8

When my niece was baptized, I asked a friend to sing a song entitled "Abiding Love." I have not heard that song since, and I think the reason I chose it way back then was because she sang it so beautifully, and because I had a crush on her. I was a teenager then, and the word abiding had a limited meaning, because I had not lived long enough to know what it meant for something or someone's love "to abide." Now that I have the wisdom that comes with being fifty-something, I have a better idea.
In John's gospel, Jesus speaks of abiding in us and us abiding in him. I know that I understand that passage very differently than I did when I was in college. My Christian friends and I looked at the idea of Jesus abiding in us as having an exclusive hold on that love, because so many other students were not like us. It is easy to overlook the fact that, in the same passage where Jesus speaks of abiding love, he also speaks about the need to prune the vines every now and then. I was moved by an old column written by Walter Wink, as he referred to such a pruning process in his own life. He likened it to cooking in the fires of purgatory, and then reflected on its true meaning for him: Something in me stayed with the process simply because God was in it. This, too, was a way to abide. "Abide in me and I in you," even in the purgatorial fires of individuation. Abide in me, even when it feels as if you are being consumed. Abide in me, for there are branches that, when pruned, can be used to build the inferno in which you can be cooked, and cleansed, and slowly shaped into a human being.
I like to think I have become a better human being as a result of the pruning in my own life. That pruning has come in the form of reprimands, encouragement, loss, love, rejection, wilderness wanderings, mountaintop experiences and God's gracious forbearance in waiting me out when I have felt rebellious. Abiding love - God's assurance that we will not have the last word.

A Deeper Look at the Good Shepherd- John 10:11-18

The text in which Jesus refers to himself as the Good Shepherd is a challenging one for the simple reason that we are pretty sure that we know what a good shepherd is like. Many of us learned the words to Psalm 23 when we were just tots, and we cannot help but apply those images to Jesus, just as he probably had the same Psalm in mind when he referred to himself as the Good Shepherd. Often, when I have spoken about this passage, I have referred to sheep as being less than intelligent, which is why it can be such a challenge leading them. I was told recently that sheep do not have great eyesight, so they tend to focus on what is close at hand. I don't know if that is true or not. However, I came across some writings this week that cause me to want to look at this familiar passage again with eyes that fully embrace the shepherd imagery.
Harvard chaplain Peter Gomes once wrote about the custom in early New England of referring to the founding of churches as the "gathering" of the church. Cornerstones are inscribed with the words "..Gathered in 1687..." instead of "founded." What a different dynamic such language sets up for us. To say that a church was founded calls to mind a small group of folks establishing a congregation, electing officers and scheduling meetings. Or, perhaps that is my United Methodist heritage peeking through. However, to gather a congregation calls to mind the actions of another, a leader, a caretaker, a shepherd, if you will. It fosters the idea that God had a part in bringing said congregation into being that the word founded just does not communicate. God was there at its gathering to nurture and care for the congregation, just as a shepherd or shepherdess gathers and cares for a flock.
In my reading I came across the opening words to the Heidelberg Catechism, the foundation document of the Reformed Church, and ancestor of the United Church of Christ. The catechism asks, "What is your only comfort in life and death?" The first two elements of the response: "That I belong, body and soul - in life and death - not to myself, but to my faithful savior, Jesus Christ."
When one combines the image of being gathered together by God with the affirmation that one belongs not to oneself, but to a faithful savior, the image of the Good Shepherd comes alive with life-altering force. Nothing else needs to be said.

How Do We Keep the Feeling? Luke 24:13-35

Though the lectionary deals with the end of Luke's 24th chapter this week, I have chosen to discuss the first part of the chapter. I am continually intrigued by the account of the journey to Emmaus and the revelation that took place there.I prefer the first part of the chapter, because in that account, by the time that his followers recognize him, Jesus disappears from their midst. The assigned text for the day, from the latter part of the chapter, has Jesus appearing to the disciples, eating in front of them and showing them his wounds. It smacks too much of our need for proof, and I think we need to spend more time getting away from that kind of thinking.
The two people traveling to Emmaus, Cleopas, about whom we know nothing else, and an unnamed companion, are joined by a third person, who seems oblivious to the goings on of the past few days. The walk takes place on Sunday evening, so news of the purported resurrection of Jesus that morning had reached their ears, though they did not know what to make of it. The stranger who walked with them was surprised that they did not seem to grasp the natural progression of events, and he told them as much. He then taught them as one who knew about such things. Just as the conversation was getting really interesting, they reached their turn-off on the road and the stranger appeared to be going on ahead. Customary rules of hospitality bade them to invite him to their place for food and lodging, and he accepted. While they were eating, in the breaking of bread, Jesus was made known to them, and then he was gone.
We just hate it when that happens. Just as God is within reach, God hot-foots it out of there.But what is more important than the fact that Jesus was made known to them was the way they felt when he was with them. "Did our hearts not burn within us?" was the way the fellow travelers expressed their amazement. And that, I think, is at the heart of our longing for some kind of encounter with a physical manifestation of God. Ronald Goetz, writing in the Christian Century years ago, stated that what the believers experienced was "not a revivification of the man they had known, but rather, one knowable only by a miracle of self-disclosure." Goetz then went on to get at the heart of our longing by comparing it to the experience of the commingling of the bonds of affection that occurs between friends or lovers. Those first encounters are almost over-powering in the mutual experience of common interests, feelings and even passions. Can we remember the first date with a current or former lover? Remember the quickening of the pulse, the clammy skin when you finally got up the courage to actually hold hands? Recall the intense longing after you parted, whether for a day, or forever? On the flip side, how about those who remained friends or lovers after those initial feelings of shared affection? Have you found yourself trying to reclaim those early fireworks, only to find that now you seem bored, or at least uninspired with the relationship? Goetz stated that the Other, who became almost as real as one's own self, does not and cannot stay. Moods change, interest fades, the Thou becomes an It. That first moment cannot last. Like the heavenly manna of the Exodus, the experience of that initial love cannot be stored and preserved.
When Jesus vanished from the midst of his new friends, they had only the memory of how they felt when in his presence. It's fleeting nature is what made it so exciting, so precious, so remarkable. As they, and the early church would soon discover, that memory would have to be enough. And it must be enough still. We cannot recreate those moments of self-disclosure, either by God, or by friends and lovers. We can only treasure them, meditate on them and try to understand them in the context of our fleeting lives. They are blessings on the journey and signposts to the Kingdom that awaits us, in this world, and the next.