Welcoming, Healing, and Discipleship

Today, we decided to push nametags for everyone, so I wanted to do something in the sermon that would connect with that. Today’s gospel wasn’t an obvious fit, and in any case, it’s one of those passages that doesn’t preach itself. I finally figured out how to do it, and some of my sermon is below.

But I began in the aisle which isn’t my practice. I began with an allusion to a piece I wrote a couple of weeks ago about welcoming the stranger. At the early service, I asked everyone’s name, and then asked them to talk about the gospel with me. At 10:00, I had people turn to their neighbors. Here’s what I meant to say:

Continue reading

Slavery, Racism, and the letter of a freedman to his former master

You probably saw this letter making the rounds this week. It’s a remarkable thing, from a former slave in response to the request of his former master that he come back to work for him. Among the choicest bits:

Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin’s to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living.

In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.

Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.

 

When the letter was posted to yahoo, the comments thread focused on the impossibility of it being authentic. I won’t link to that, but it’s what the “racism” in my post title refers to.

Others have dug more deeply into the letter’s provenance. It was dictated by Anderson, and published in The Freedmen’s Book. Others have discovered that Anderson was living in Ohio as late as the 1900 census, and they have also discovered much of his family tree. Fascinating stuff.

Music, Faith, and Skepticism

Using the English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams as a starting point, Terry Teachout asks, “How can skeptics make convincing works of art?” His answer? Of Vaughan Williams’ work he writes:

an artist need not be an orthodox believer—or, indeed, any kind of believer—to be inspired by the eloquence of scripture and the transforming power of faith. You can, I suppose, dismiss that message as purest Victorian hypocrisy, but to listen to the G-Minor Mass and the Fifth Symphony is to know that the greathearted genius who made them was the truest of believers in the power of art to uplift and ennoble the souls of his fellow men. We should all be such hypocrites.

Vaughan Williams is an interesting case, because of the popularity of his hymns among Anglicans (and, indeed, English-speaking Christianity). How many people have come to faith, or had their faith strengthened, by “For all the Saints” (Sine Nomine) or “Come Down, O Love Divine” (Down Ampney)?

Jeff Warren is exploring the relationship between music and religious faith from a slightly different perspective in a series of essays on BioLogos, specifically, with reference to human evolution. In the first essay, he writes:

considering music as culturally embedded lets us recognize something quite different from the arguments that musical meaning is either subjective or encoded within the music itself. Music does allow for subjective response, but not truly autonomous response—our experience of music occurs within the bounds of cultural norms.

The tendency in Western thinking about music to conceive composition as creation from nothing (creatio ex nihilo), not only seems to put the composer on the same level as God the Creator, but it also seems to deny the importance of community and relationship.

In the second essay, he looks more closely at what neuroscience is learning about music. According to Warren, neuroscience also points to the importance of cultural appropriation. Working with the ideas of Eric Clarke:

Clarke – an Oxford scholar trained as a psychologist and musicologist – offers an ecological theory of listening that examines organisms listening in their environment. He argues that “we all have the potential to hear different things in the same music – but the fact that we don’t (or at least not all the time) is an indication of the degree to which we share a common environment, and experience common perceptual learning or adaptation”.5 This runs contrary to at least the popularized versions of the neuroscience of music — which attempt to unlock a singular biofunctional “key” to understanding music — and moves us back toward the essential idea that music, for all its neurological components, is also a cultural phenomenon that must be examined in terms of human relationships.

In the third essay, Warren draws on the work of Ian Cross, who

Cross asks if music might have been the most important thing we ever did.2 The key to his argument is that music’s “floating intentionality” allows for a kind of mutual participation among different individuals that he calls “entrainment,” opening the possibility of shared emotional states that may have been critical to the evolution of culture.

From this brief survey, he concludes:

I have approached various topics relating to music and science to show that encountering other people is foundational to musical experience. If music is fundamentally inter-relational, then all musical experience has ethical implications, and that needs to be considered in any scientific investigation. But how might this understanding contribute to the charged discussions on the role of music in worship services?

Or to put it another way, “musical encounters can and should be enactments of loving your neighbour.”

This puts the “worship wars” in a completely different perspective.

Embodied faith

One of the fascinating questions for theologians and scientists is the relationship between our brains and religious experience or religious faith. The underlying question goes back at least to Descartes (you know, cogito, ergo sum, “I think, therefore I am”). But, in fact, the question lies at the heart of Christian anthropology, the relationship of body and soul. Whatever the traditional understanding of that relationship, it is profoundly challenged by contemporary neuroscience and philosophy.

Mark Vernon points to the problem:

A diverse group of philosophers and scientists are now arguing that the dominant 20th-century view of cognition, as a capacity of brains or minds, is inadequate. The alternative is often called embodied cognition. It examines the evidence that our bodies play a vital role in how we engage with the world. According to this view, bodies are not just life-support systems for the brain or sources of sensory inputs. Rather, bodies are integral to human thought.

The implication is clear. If bodies are integral to human thought, they are also integral to our religious lives.

He concludes:

if a religious sensibility needs an embodied foundation, this would explain why spiritual directors advise individuals to make pilgrimages, to experience liturgies and rituals, and to discipline and pattern their lives. These are activities that are about letting go, which is also a letting in. Something opens up to a new experience of life. Illumination is gained. Faith known first in the body may be the result.

Vernon is writing in response to a  series of posts by Julian Baggini, “Heathen’s Progress.” Baggini responds directly to Vernon’s views in another post, “The modern believer is not suspicious enough:”

A persistent pain is a pretty good indicator of the presence of bodily damage; the feeling that you have been touched by the Holy Spirit is only a good indicator that you have had a generic religious experience, shared by many the world over, and you have interpreted it according to the narratives and belief systems familiar to you.

Wherever one stands on this issue, and to the extent that every thought, including a religious idea or experience, is in some sense embodied (at the very least it is the product, in some sense, of neural activity), religious faith, or experience, is embodied.

But this raises another question: “Why might our minds be better suited to religion than science?”

Religion involves cognitive representations and cognitive processing that come naturally to human minds, while science traffics in radically counterintuitive representations and in forms of cognitive processing whose acquisition and mastery require disciplined reflective activity across many years of formal education.

For me, among the intriguing questions, apart from the theological and scientific questions, is the significance of all this for contemporary Christianity. We are seeing radical change in the nature of Christian community, with the decline in attendance and membership in mainline denominations and the rise of social media. What does embodied faith look like for young adults who connect via texting or facebook but may not attend services? Even more important, given the importance of embodiment in Christianity, the incarnation, the notion of the community as the body of Christ, embodied practices from the Eucharist to shared outreach, how do we make the connections with the bodies that shape and are shaped by belief?

Segregation past and present, racism past and present

Walter Russell Mead points to a WSJ article describing a study that concludes:

Fifty years ago, nearly half the black population lived in a ghetto, the study said, while today that proportion has shrunk to 20%. All-white neighborhoods in U.S. cities are effectively extinct, according to the report.

I read this after a conversation with a parishioner that began by him asking me about the South Carolina primary and continued with his first encounter with segregation and Jim Crow while being based near Ft. Worth, TX during WWII.

It’s wonderful that American metropolitan areas are less segregated today than fifty years ago, but the WSJ article goes on to point out that there remain glaring differences in racial inequality: “Minorities at every income level tend to reside in poorer neighborhoods than whites with comparable incomes.”

Part of the reason for this enormous change is the migration of African Americans back into the “sunbelt.” Both retirees and younger people have moved in search of jobs and better quality of life. Immigration has also played a role.

God and the Gods–Lectionary reflections for 5 Epiphany, Year B

This week’s readings are here.

One of the questions that struck me yesterday as I was listening to the readings (hearing someone else read them aloud often brings new insights) was the status of “the god’s” in Paul’s discussion of eating food offered to idols. Here’s that text: 1 Corinthians 8:1-13. 

Paul isn’t exactly clear on the status of other gods: “Indeed, even though there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth– as in fact there are many gods and many lords– yet for us there is one God…” On the one hand, it seems he denies the reality of those gods, but here, he admits to the existence of “so-called gods.” One explanation for this lies in the hierarchical understanding the universe in hellenistic thought, an understanding Paul shares. There are principalities, and powers, spirits, divine beings, that inhabit the various realms that exist between earth and heaven. They may not be precisely gods, but they have powers that vastly surpass human power.

In this week’s lesson from Hebrew Scripture, we read from Isaiah 40. This passage comes from what scholars call Second Isaiah. This section (40-56, more or less) derives from the period of exile in Babylon in the sixth century. It is evidence for the remarkable transformation that is taking place in theology among the exilic community (most scholars conclude that the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Old Testament, was compiled in this period). Second Isaiah is reaching toward a monotheistic theology that would come to characterize Judaism. We see some of that here.

Earlier in chapter 40, the prophet has proclaimed God’s power and wisdom. He compared Yahweh to the image of a deity:

To whom then will you liken God,
or what likeness compare with him?
An idol? —A workman casts it,
and a goldsmith overlays it with gold,
and casts for it silver chains.

Those are verses 18-19. In our passage, the prophet praises God as creator of the universe and as the one who establishes and unseats the world’s rulers. 40:26 is particularly interesting, both in the Babylonian context and in light of Genesis 1. The prophet asks,

“Lift up your eyes on high and see:
Who created these?
He who brings out their host and numbers them,
calling them all by name;”

Two points. First, the reference is to the stars and asserts God’s power over them. In addition, the use of the verb created–the only other instance of the use of this word is in the creation accounts of Genesis, describing God’s creative activity (this from Steed Davidson at workingpreacher.org). In Genesis 1, the creation of the stars makes explicit the limits of their power: “let them be for signs and seasons and days and years” and “let them rule over day and night.” Specifically, the stars, sun and moon do not have power over human lives or fates.

We tend to assume that our understanding of God, is static, has always been the understanding of Christians, if not of Jews (there’s that whole trinitarian thing, after all). In their own ways, both Second Isaiah and Paul are grappling with the relationship of their monotheistic beliefs (that God is one) and their belief in a universe that is filled with other divine beings.

Our problem in the twenty-first century isn’t quite the same–we worry more about whether we can say that other religions might be true, whatever we think of their deities. Still, I wonder about the resonances of both of these passages for the contemporary life of faith.

Why I despair of the future of the Episcopal Church

The Executive Council of the Episcopal Church met over the weekend and received this dire report about decline in the church. One word description: catastrophic! But that’s not what sends me into despair or wailing and gnashing of teeth. It’s the dust-up between the Presiding Bishop and the President of the House of Deputies (You’ll recall that there was a similar controversy at last fall’s meeting over a presentation by Bishop Stacy Sauls).

Over the last decade, pretty much every measure of health of the church has declined by between 10% and 20% and our leadership is arguing over whether it’s appropriate for the Presiding Bishop to communicate directly with General Convention deputies. You can read about it here, if you’ve got the stomach for it.

We’re in the midst of an existential crisis, and our leadership argues over its rights and prerogatives. I don’t care about the merits of either position and above all, I dread what’s going to happen at General Convention 2012, what actions it will take that will divert our energies, attention, and passion away from ministry and mission. I cite two examples

1) The denominational health plan. However praiseworthy its intent, however just and equitable its origin, it is instilling fear in this neck of the church. Those of us with excellent healthcare at reasonable prices fear being forced into less generous plans at higher premiums. Clergy fear the loss of full benefits because of the requirement that laity and clergy receive the same benefit. All of the parishes in our area are facing budget shortfalls as it is, and are contemplating laying off staff. The requirement to offer same coverage for full-time lay employees will probably mean that many parishes will simply reduce the hours of their lay employees. There is deep concern about the way the Denominational Health Plan is being implemented? What is GC doing to listen to and respond to these very significant concerns? I, for one, have heard nary a peep out of those who in their wisdom passed the legislation.

2) Same Sex Blessings liturgies. In 2009, General Convention mandated that the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music gather resources for such liturgies. Rather belatedly, the SCLM began publishing such resources (this past fall). Belatedly, because among the documents is one entitled “educational material for diocesan conventions” that appeared on December 13, 2011. That’s two months after we held our convention in the diocese of Milwaukee.

In 2003, we were completely unprepared for the impact of General Convention, understandably so, because of the date of Bishop Robinson’s election. In 2012, we know what is coming. We know that there will be media scrutiny and intense discussion in the Anglican blogosphere,  From what I can tell of the materials produced by the SCLM, and from what I can tell of what I’ve read, they seem both somewhat superficial and often incomprehensible.

For me, the important question is this: How is General Convention preparing us in local parishes deal with the controversy? And I don’t primarily mean the conversations over the shape liturgies might take.  What materials are they providing local clergy to deal with the phone call from the local newspaper reporter who is writing an article on the topic and interviewing conservative Christian leaders as well?

Once again, my guess is that General Convention is going to leave us to our own devices, ill-prepared and ill-equipped to deal with the local consequences of its actions and increasingly curious why so many of us in the church want to have nothing to do with it.

That’s why I despair of the future of the Episcopal Church. I’ve been active in the Episcopal Church for two decades, I’ve been involved in parish leadership for a decade, and every General Convention in that time has contributed to conflict in the parish and led to diversion of precious resources of time, energy, and passion. I’m looking forward to GC 2012 with fear and trembling.

 

 

The Holy Spirit, an unclean spirit, and the Reign of God: A Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany, Year B

January 29, 2012

I never know who or what I might encounter when I get the phone call from the fishbowl, the receptionist and hear the words, “there’s someone here who wants to talk to the pastor.” Well, I know a couple of things. Whoever it is, isn’t Episcopalian. And I also know that whatever their problem is, it’s likely I can’t do much to help. Usually, it’s a request for money for rent or utilities, or bus fare. Occasionally, they just want to talk, like the guy a few months ago whose lead question was something about human nature. Then there are those who have really serious problems. Continue reading

Budgets, Decline, and Mission–The current meeting of the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church

Word came yesterday that Executive Council was presented with two competing proposals for the budget for the next three years (Triennium). One used 19% asking from the dioceses; the other 15%. Today, via twitter, I followed the debate at a distance. It’s similar to the debate that has been going on on the diocesan level as well as in parishes. As membership and attendance decline, how do we maintain our buildings, ministry, and mission?

There was a stark portrayal of the extent of decline by Kirk Hadaway. The full presentation is available here: ExecCncl_012712_FINAL

There’s a great deal to digest in this report, including a decline in membership from over 2.4 million in 1992 to under 2 million today. And this, between 2002 and 2010:

• Change in church school enrollment: -33%
• Change in number of marriages performed: -41%
• Change in number of burials/funerals: -21%
• Change in the number of child baptisms: -36%
• Change in the number of adult baptisms: -40%
• Change in the number of confirmations: -32%

Even more scary, for every church that was started between 1999 and 2009, 2.5 closed. There are maps of the country that show the relative growth and decline among dioceses, comparisons with other mainline denominations (and even the Southern Baptist Convention, which has seen membership decline for the first time in recent years).

But there are other ways to parse that data, and larger issues, as well. I read an article yesterday about America’s permanent dead zones, defined by the authors as areas where the unemployment rate has been at least 2% above the national average for the last 5, 10, or 20 years. It’s a fascinating read, and it would be interesting to compare the geography of the dead zones with the areas of decline in the Episcopal Church. For example, among the towns listed as dead zones are a series of towns in the Diocese of Upper South Carolina–Gaffney, Greenwood, Union, Chester, Lancaster, Seneca, Sumter. Some of these towns have thriving Episcopal churches; others don’t. By contrast, not a single city in that diocese is included in the list of prosperous zones. The diocese of Milwaukee seems not to have any dead zones, and Madison is listed as a prosperous zone. My question is: to what extent is growth in the Episcopal Church linked to those “prosperous zones”?

Here’s today’s report from Executive Council, contributed by Episcopal News Service.

If this is any indication, it’s going to be an interesting few months leading up to General Convention.

The Vast Christian Right Conspiracy to brainwash your kids

Otherwise known as “See You at the Pole.” There’s another in the long line of liberal media-bashing of American Evangelicalism in the Daily Beast. Katherine Stewart writes about the program that has kids gather at flagpoles in schoolyards to pray regularly. While including lurid details about rallies leading up to such events, Stewart wants us to focus on the constitutionality of the practice:

At Starbucks I meet up with students who participated in the SYAP prayers at Bradley High School, another public school in Cleveland. “Everybody basically bumps into us on their way into the school building,” says a boy with a wide, freckled smile, “so almost every kid in the school joined in.”

 

I ask a curly-haired girl, a participant over the past several years, how she heard about the event. “Sometimes they make an announcement during lunch,” she says. “Sometimes your teachers tell you about it.”

I’m shocked! Peer pressure? I read this as I read another in  long line of articles from evangelical (and progressive) Christians about the radical decline in religious involvement among young adults. These liberal conspiracy theorists assume teens have no power to resist the attractions of evangelical Christianity, that such acts turn people into unthinking, conservative Christian robots.

It didn’t happen to me. When I was in high school, we were granted permission to leave study hall to attend movies shown in the cafeteria by a local church. They were cheesy attempts to convert us, silly, really, because we were all already saturated with Christianity.

The reality is more complex than Stewart would have us believe. Yes, evangelicalism is a powerful force in American culture, especially in the South and in the heartland. But there are other powerful forces in our culture. Hollywood and consumerism are powerful as well, and have probably claimed the allegiance of all of those kids already, whether they realize it or not.