For the record

I figured I should do at least one blog post in July. Twitter is indeed seductive: you can satisfy your need for ego-stroking broadcast of your brilliant thoughts, yet you've only got to come up with 140 characters.

But anyway - as of today:

• I'm 38 years old. I can no longer say, with the peasant from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, "I'm 37! I'm not old!" I'm 38. I'm old.
• That said, I'm running 5Ks pretty routinely these days, and have lost over 25 pounds since the first of the year. So yay!
• My wife is awesome. This is not new, but it is notable.
• Our 19-year-old kitty, Krishna, who's been with us about half our lives, may die today. We'll miss her terribly when she goes.
• For those who were interested in my "little hopeful project", we've made contact. Not much so far, and maybe not ever. But the strand of connection exists, and I'm happy about that.
• I'm deeply grateful for my friends and family. It never ceases to amaze me how blessed I am. It should humble me way more than it does.
• On my day job, I'm trying to push the idea that we need to take risks and have Big, Hairy, Audacious Goals (aka BHAGs; HT: Mike for the terminology, Dee for the concept) if we're going to survive and not just slide into oblivion along with a lot of other newspapers. Wish me luck.
• I think we maybe need a BHAG or two at church, too.

There you go. State of the Croghan. Peace!

image by ccontill (rights)

The emerging mainline: too big for your boxes

So the other day I had a 30-minute Skype conversation with the Sarcastic Lutheran herself, Nadia Bolz-Weber. She would probably be surprised to learn that it sort of rocked my world, or at least my mental map of the "emerging church" and mainline denominations, and the various ways in which they might fit together. I've been reflecting on a whole bunch of things since Nadia and I talked, but one of them is this: the "emerging mainline" is one seriously diverse landscape (in a good way!). I think there's a tendency among "emerging" types - among post-evengelicals but also among post-liberal mainliners like myself - to try to oversymplify and stereotype that landscape. We should stop. It's not that simple.

And I'm not even talking about the diversity of denominational traditions. Of course, that's hugely significant too: there's a big difference between a Roman Catholic and a member of the United Church of Christ in how they'll tend to approach all manner of questions of doctrine, structure, and practice, no matter how "emerging" they both are. That's huge, but I'm talking about something else that's harder to define - something like the "angle" at which folks are entering the emerging conversation. In talking about this, I hasten to clarify: this is too big for my boxes, fo sho. The categories I mention below are arbitrary, probably somewhat patronizing, and far from mutually exclusive. They're based on my perceptions of folks I've talked with, and little more. I'm just trying to mentally process this a little, and I'm doing it in public on my blog, because that's what the kids are doing these days. Feel free to rip me a new one if I get it offensively wrong. That's how the blogosphere rolls, don'tcha know.

So anyway, these are my major fuzzy categories of "approach vector" to the emerging conversation that I perceive among mainline friends and acquaintences:

1) Explorers. Folks who have heard of the emerging church conversation, maybe read a book or two by Brian McL or someone, and are intrigued and working on finding out what it might mean to them. They're 100% within their tribe, and perhaps haven't explored enough yet to identify any areas of dissonance between the way they're doing church and the emerging ways of thought/practice/etc. that they're exploring. (For the purpose of this discussion, I'll take it as a given that such dissonances exist, or else there would be no such thing as the "emerging mainline". It would just be the mainline.) I think folks in this camp will inevitably end up in one of the other boxes, or else deciding that just "mainline" - not "emerging mainline" - is fine with them. But there will probably be folks who forever remain "admirers" of the conversation: reading and chatting with folks, maybe making minor tweaks to how they do church from time to time, being a little bit of "emerging" seasoning in their mostly "conventional" church stew - and also providing a needed "traditional" anchor for their wilder EC compadres. As is the case with all of these categories, this, in my opinion, is a good and joyful thing. I deeply hope that the EC makes folks like this feel 100% welcome, always.

2) Loyal deserters. Folks like me, who self-identify with one (or more?) of the denominational tribes, have no intention of "leaving" it, have many friends within it, and who join with the tribe for worship, discipleship, mission, etc. all the time. But for all that, we've thought deeply about the ways in which "emerging culture" and "the way most mainline churches do church" rub up against each other in unhelpful ways, and pretty much sided 100% with "emerging" sensibilities in attempting to resolve those dissonances. Not-so-incidentally, it's about 7000 times easier for lay people to choose this route than it is for clergy.

3) Strugglers. Folks who are 100% within their tribes, and who are very (often painfully) aware of the areas of dissonance between their tribe's way of doing things and the way they feel called to do church. Possibly, they wrestle with these issues on a daily basis. They have thought deeply about this stuff, they love their tribe, and they often don't know where to go from here. I think it's a deep and important calling of those of us in categories 2, 4, 5, or 6 - as well as folks entering the emerging church convo from other parts of the Church - evangelicals, charismatics, etc. - to come alongside folks like this and help them find their way into one of the other categories (despite the fact that I look at this struggle as something good and holy and necessary). And a real challenge: loyal deserters like me must rejoice if folks end up doing God's work in a thoroughly within-the tribe context. Tribal or theological loyalists: rejoice if folks end up doing God's work outside the tribe.

4) Creatives. Folks who have found outside-the-box ways of remaining firmly connected to tribe while shaping a life, calling, and community which is very different from the denomination's traditional models. I think of several Presbymergent friends: Troy Bronsink and Tom Livengood in Atlanta, and Karen Sloan in Pittburgh, for example. All three are PCUSA pastors, and this fact is key to their callings and the shape of their lives and the communities they serve, yet those communities are very different from traditional PCUSA congregations, in their approach to almost everything (as far as I can tell): structure, practice, roles, philosophy, etc. Maintaining this tension is hugely challenging for these folks, but I greatly admire their creativity and willingness to sacrifice to live in the liminal space to which God seems to be calling them. (And my sense with a lot of folks like this is that their guiding light is more like "finding a way forward from where I am to where God is calling me" than a rock-solid commitment to tribe or theology, which is why I differentiate them from the last two categories, but I'm probably full of crap on all counts.)

5) Tribal Loyalists. These are folks who are deeply and thoroughly committed to their tribe(s), as an organization of people within a tradition. They believe in their denominations, they are deeply grateful for the gifts that flow to them and their communities from those organizations/traditions (and I am not talking about money, or pension funds - not primarily, anyway). They feel deeply called to give back to their tribe, from the inside. Often, these folks are tireless reformers, working within their denominational systems to help folks see the value of new ways of doing church and to cultivate official structures that nurture, as opposed to discourage, emerging ways of being and doing church. They see this, rightly, as a gift to their denomination. I admire them greatly. A well-known example of this kind of critter might be Karen Ward in Seattle.

6) Theological Stalwarts. This is where Nadia rocked my world. Call me naive, but somehow I did not know that there were folks who are thoroughly part of the emerging church conversation (ground-breakingly so), and whose loyalty to some of the ways their tribe "does church" is based on a heartfelt, deeply-thought-out, nuanced and well-founded commitment to some of the major theological distinctives of their tribal tradition. Honestly, I feel like a bit of an idiot. My impression of most mainline friends, "emerging" or not - especially clergy - is that their tribal loyalty was mostly exactly that: it's about fidelity to a tribe, a people, an organization. They took vows, they committed, and with that they got a package. They may not dig everything in that package, but in faithfulness, they will claim it as theirs. But Nadia really digs her tribe's theology - in a deep and thoroughly supported way. Her commitment to principles like the Lutheran idea of "proclamation" seems as firm as the commitment of any Calvinist I know to TULIP, or the like. I have in the past been guilty of saying things like, "Yeah, the problem with us mainline liberals is that we don't believe our own bullshit. We do things in certain ways because that's just the way they're done. There was originally a theological rational for these things, but we don't own those foundations anymore. Now, it's just rules." But Nadia - Nadia believes her own bullshit. And she's not wrong. She's thought well and deeply about these things. And (now I belatedly realize) she's clearly not the only one.

So once again, these categories are arbitrary, largely useless (except, perhaps, as a thought processing exercise), and anything but mutually exclusive. I am not saying that Karen Ward isn't theologically committed to her tribe(s), nor am I saying that Nadia isn't relationally committed to hers. Nor am I suggesting that either of them has been anything short of breathtakingly creative in the way they've crafted their lives and communities. And obviously, all of us struggle constantly with these tensions.

But anyway, here's my main point (if I have one): the emerging church conversation has been incredibly enriched, IMHO, as more and more mainline voices have entered it. We would do well not to oversimplify the picture of what those voices represent. We are not all people who "don't get it". We are not all people who will never work outside our tribes - but some of us will remain thoroughly committed forever, and our reasons for tribal loyalty are myriad, and good. We are not all people who don't believe our own bullshit. Some of us do believe our bullshit, and are uniquely equipped to bring the real, substantial gifts inherent in that bullshit to the wider conversation - or at least to those who have ears to hear. So...let's listen up.

Photo by gnackgnackgnack (rights)

A Nuanced Conversation -or- The Emerging Church, AD 2009

This is what I think we are often trying to say to each other:

"I believe in doing things in the following way.

- But - what I really mean is: doing things in this way is working well for me in my context.

(- Or - possibly I'm just speculating, aka talking out my ass. But that's another matter.)

- Further - I recognize that what works well for me in my context might not work well for you in yours.

- And - I further recognize that the things I'm even trying in my context are largely conditioned by my preferences, convictions, and assumptions.

- That said - I really think that some of these things may actually be better in general - i.e., even in your context - than what you're currently doing. (I could be wrong.)

- What I'm saying is - I recognize that my claims are deeply conditioned my my context, as well as my preferences, convictions, and assumptions. But so are yours. And that's why each of our insights might have value to the other - beyond the subjective, beyond the particularly contextual. (Although they will certainly be useless to you unless they are adapted and embraced by the people and the context that you call home)."

This is what I think we too often hear:

"You're wrong."

I don't lay the blame for that at the feet of the listener, either. Too often, what we're saying boils down to: "you're wrong". Because it's almost like shorthand...you know what I mean? Because all that nuance is hard, and it's exhausting.

The one thing the Emerging Church is going to need more than anything else in the next few years, IMHO? Huge, heaping piles of grace. Big, steaming servings of John 13:34-35. Lush buffet-style banquets of love for one another.

Loving God, open our hearts.

(P.S., Nadia, if you're reading this, this is not meant to be a reflection of our conversation, but rather the result of further reflection on some of the things we talked about.)

Photo of Juan Muñoz's sculpture "Last Conversation Piece" by kimberlyfaye (rights)

Julienning my inner couch potato FTW

Active lifestyle update for the past 7 days:

Wednesday: Ran 5K before work
Thursday: Ran 5K before work
Friday: Afternoon of kayaking on the Potomac
Saturday: Hiked Little Devil's Stairs (7+ miles) (gorgeous!!)
Sunday: Climbed Old Rag (8+ miles) (wicked fun and challenging boulder scrambles)
Monday: On the sixth day, Croghan rested
Tuesday: Ran 5K after work

This may not seem very impressive to you, or perhaps it sounds like bragging. But to me, the fat kid with bad eyesight who always got picked last for every team in gym class and who (barring a little occasional hiking, biking, and skiing) never did much of anything remotely athletic until about five years ago - I've come a long way, baby. A frakking hard-fought, slogging-but-ultimately-rewarding long way. So maybe I am bragging. So what? Brag brag brag. I feel good.

This past week is also the week I've officially lost 20 pounds since January 1st. And falling!

Our next (that is, second ever) "official" 5K race is this one on 6 June:

A Day at the Races Cross Country 5K

If you'll be in the area and want to join Tina and me, y'all come!

Image by euqus (rights)

Stuff the Church could toss

Almost a month ago, I made a long-ass comment on my friend Jan's blog, and I haven't thought much about it since. But then, today, out of the blue, someone ran across Jan's post and my comment, and emailed me about it, which led me to re-read it and think, "Heck, that's a lot of words...I might as well put them on my own blog too." So: Yeah, I wrote some words about "what the Church could toss". Let me show you them:

OK, Jan, I can't resist. But I would definitely go with your wisdom: this is contextual. I'll only list a couple things that I think should *always* be tossed from every church context (despite the fact that they are present in almost *every* church context), and then a bunch more that tend to be assumed to be necessary for nearly every church context, but are, really, truly, in my not-so-humble opinion, needed in fewer and fewer contexts.

List 1: Toss 'em, always:

Power struggles. If there is a power struggle in the church, at least one party *must* find a way to redefine the game in the vein of Philippians 2. My fellow Anglicans in Northern Virginia (and elsewhere) are doing a stellar job right now of demonstrating FAIL in this regard.

Nominalism. All churches need to find ways to stop selling snake oil. Showing up for two hours a week and chipping in for the offering is *not* the same thing as following Jesus. Following Jesus is *way* better. Why are we offering folks watered-down Dr. Pepper when we have the the most real medicine there is? Preaching about the difference doesn't solve the problem. How do we stop making nominalism a viable option? (BTW, this doesn't mean that we all don't need times when we don't serve, but are just served - but there is a big difference between a Jesus-follower going through a desert time, and a nominal Christian. Our churches are full of nominal Christians who will never pick up their cross and follow Jesus, as long as "show up and consume" is a viable option.)

List 1.5: On the bubble. (I've yet to hear a convincing case for why this is good in any context, but I'm not sure about it):

Large congregations (i.e., ones that start to approach 100 people). I mean congregations that are trying to be an interdependent community of disciples, not church institutions that are explicitly there only to provide services for any and all (eg., cathedrals). There are major drawbacks to large congregations (anonymity, nominalism, loss of community, need for depersonalized programs) which are not, as far as I can tell, mitigated by other advantages. (Nor are they solved by the magic bullet of "small groups.") In other words, I know of many things that small church communities can do better than large churches, but I don't currently know of anything that large churches can do better than a network of small churches - except make leaders feel important.

List 2: Toss 'em, contextually. (They aren't always useful, but have been useful in the past, still are in many contexts today, and will continue to be so in the future.)

"Educated" clergy. (Gosh, everybody's educated one way or another.)

The role of "pastor".

Any sort of clergy-laity distinction at all.

Most other prescribed church roles.

Hierarchical leadership (one person ultimately in charge of the organization - plural leadership among a team of equals *works*).

Full-time paid staff.

Paid staff.

Formal programs of every kind - "the church" does not need to provide programs for "the people" - the people *are* the church!

Church buildings.

Most other church assets.

Anything at all that's there due to a sense of entitlement, "it's always been that way", or an assumption that it's necessary. If folks want to keep doing something, then they should certainly keep doing it. *We* are the church, so there should be no sense of "the church providing this for us" - if it's needed, or wanted, then you (whoever feels the call) are the church - provide it!

But, you know, I can be a bit radical when it comes to this stuff. ;-)

image by Leo Reynolds (rights)

Armchair Lifehacker, Tip #1: Inspirational passwords

Set your password to an acronym of the words of a favorite song, poem, prayer, or Bible verse. Mix up the case (upper/lower) a bit, and substitute some numbers or special characters to improve security. Benefits:

• You end up with a very high-quality, hard-to-guess password.
• Every time you type it, you're reminded of your song, poem, prayer, or scripture passage. It can even prompt you to brief prayer, in a very Brother Lawrence sort of way.

Example: Take the first verse of the well-loved Psalm 23:

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want

This becomes:

TLimsIsnw

Mix in a couple special characters:

TLim$I$nw

Voila - a fairly high-security, relatively easy to remember password...which also reminds you, every time you log in, that God's got your back.

Is good, no?

Image by Max (Tj) (rights)

Petition widget

Remembering my Dad

My Dad, Tom Croghan, passed away one year ago today.

I'm deeply, deeply grateful to have been raised in the love and wisdom and care and example of this remarkable, constantly generous, selflessly powerful man.

Here's what I said about him last year.

Thank you, Dad. I love you and miss you.

CellAlert.org is off to Berkeley!

Hey, remember my friend from a few posts ago, with the non-profit that was competing for a grant? Well, he wanted to say thanks! Here's Israel:

We made it to the top 10! http://www.netsquared.org/hrc-ucb/topten -- Thanks
for your support! Now off to Berkeley to compete for $15,000 and to
inspire world changers and be inspired!

Yay!

The Remerging Church

Jeromy Johnson, in a short, beautiful essay, captures precisely what's in my heart for the Church as we emerge together. Here's an excerpt:

A remerging of the willing. This is how I believe history will define this time.

A remerging of those who don’t want to put aside their differences for unity’s sake, but want unity to be found in recognizing and embracing the beauty in all of our differences. (Paul’s description of the Body comes to mind for me here).

A remerging of those who realize they don’t need to seek permission from the “top” to unite and walk together in love, but now see that Jesus already gave them permission to unite and then prayed that they would.

A remerging of those who choose reconciliation, healing, and forgiveness over entrenchment, division, fear, and anger.

A remerging of those who choose to toss aside the rules and theologies that divide, and choose to embrace the healing freedom that really does exist in Christ.

Amen, and amen, and amen. Read the whole thing, I beg you.

Peace,

Croghan

My friend's non-profit could use your vote

Hey all,

My friend Israel's non-profit (Cell Alert) and some others are trying to win a non-profit challenge. It's a good cause (actually, several good causes), so if you wouldn't mind going and voting, here's how:

1) Go here and register: http://www.netsquared.org/hrc-ucb/vote

2) Then click "Vote in the UC Berkeley Human Rights Center Mobile Challenge" here: http://www.netsquared.org/user

3) Then vote for these 3 projects
http://www.netsquared.org/projects/frontlinesms-alerts

http://www.netsquared.org/projects/ijcentral

http://www.netsquared.org/projects/freedom-fone

4) Then click "View/Cast Ballot" (below your selected challengers in the upper right hand corner)

5) Then click "Submit Ballot"

Does that make sense?

Israel Kloss

Founder, Cell Alert

CellAlert.org

israel@cellalert.org

P.S. Would you mind passing on this URL (http://cellalert.org/node/104) to your friends and family so they can vote for us too?

We ain't entitled to jack

I'm not sure this is a theological insight. It's sort of a personal conviction. I've referred to it before, but I just feel like stating it, as clearly as I can. Here's what I think.

We - you and I, any human beings - are not entitled. We are not entitled to anything.

Anything, that is, except God's love, to whatever extent we can manage to receive it. But that's it. Really. That's it. Nothing else.

So, for example: your health? Not entitled. Your loved ones? Not entitled. Your natural gifts, talents, intelligence, sanity? Not entitled. Your job, your house, your money, your stuff? Not entitled to a lick of it. (But I've worked for those - they're mine! Sorry, no.) Human rights? Not entitled. Food, water, shelter? Nope. Freedom from oppression, imprisonment, war, torture? Uh-uh. Your next breath? Sorry, no guarantees.

There is nothing built into this universe that entitles us to anything within it. Anything. If we attain, or retain, any of these things, it is completely, 100% a free and amazing gift through the grace of God. If we lose these things, it's merely the natural end of a good thing (and as "they" are fond of saying, all good things must end.)

The nihilists are right. The universe is devoid of meaning and purpose - unless we make those. And the only way way to make those is by entering into loving relationship with God and each other. When we don't get good things, or we lose good things, it's not the universe's fault, and it's not God's fault. Neither God nor the universe entitled us to those things.

Those losses may, in fact, be our fault, but this is not about "we suck, we're totally depraved, original sin", and BS like that. That kind of thinking assumes that entitlement is a reality - it's just one that we don't deserve because we SUCK so much. That's crap thinking. Entitlement is a lie. We don't miss out on entitlement because we don't deserve it - we miss out on it because entitlement doesn't exist.

When we look at life this way, we realize that EVERY. SINGLE. GIFT we have is not ours to keep, because we deserve it - but only ours through grace, to share through grace. We give and share and love freely, sacrificially, joyfully, and with abandon - like God does. (I suck at looking at life this way.)

When we don't look at life this way, we sin. When we feel entitled to something (or someone), we fear losing it, or we fear not getting it in the first place. When we fear, we respond in anger, or in greed, or in numb avoidance. And we sin. (I'm much better at this kind of behavior.)

That's what I think about entitlement. And life. And I honestly think that if I could remember and practice it more, I would be more of a blessing to the people with whom I share this world.

image "ENTITLEMENT" by ChrisB in SEA (rights)

Dancing in the light

Since I don't seem to be blogging here much lately, I figured I might as well mention that I posted something on my church's shared Lenten blog (and, in the process, point you toward the good stuff on that blog from sundry Common Table folk).

For context: we decided to "give up church as we know it" this Lent (through Easter, and who knows what happens after that?) and spend the season with another church community with whom we're becoming friends, New Hope Fellowship. (New Hope is a community made up mostly of folks who are homeless and recently homeless.) We're trying to be alert for ways in which we can serve and help out at New Hope, but mostly we're just hoping to be present, listen, and make friends.

In many core ways, New Hope is a lot like us; for example, in the ways they think about, talk about, and practice community, leadership, worship design, shared responsibility and action, etc. (It's crystal clear to me that they are an emerging church by any useful definition of the term, though I guarantee that almost nobody there has ever cracked a book by Brian McLaren, Pete Rollins, or Tony Jones.) In other ways, though, there are differences: they're much more charismatic or pentecostal in their worship and language, for instance, and much more comfortable with language that sounds like certainty with regard to God's will for us. Since many Commoners are what you might call "post-"charismatic, and even more of us like to think we're "post-certainty", sometimes this language can make us uncomfortable. So we started this shared blog, in part, to help up work through those feelings so they don't get in the way of our friendships. More on the shared blog can be found on the first post, here.

But anyway, yesterday I posted about my experience worshiping at New Hope Sunday morning. It was full of images of light, and relationship, and dance. So, it you want, check it out (and stay to check out the other posts too).

image "Light Dancing" by diveofficer (rights)

Americans fleeing religion in droves

Here's the current cover story on a certain well-known newspaper:

Most religious groups in USA have lost ground, survey finds

This is not exactly a surprise.

One thought I had, which I enjoyed having because it made me feel OK: "emerging churches" are criticized (and I myself worry about this) for not having many converts - for being made up mostly of people who have departed more traditional church environments and are trying to save their own faith. But in an atmosphere like this, I sorta feel like helping folks to not leave the Church is, well, something. For real.

(But I still think we collectively miss opportunities to engage - for mutual benefit - with folks outside our comfy and safe and "thank God we're not where we used to be" church cocoons.)

Come see Pete Rollins! This Thursday!

If you're in the DC area and don't have rock-solid plans, you will be kicking yourself - hard - repeatedly - in the pants - if you don't come see Pete Rollins in Arlington on Thursday evening. Seriously.

The official press release follows, with all the deets, but what you really need to know is what I just told my Common Table peeps: buy Pete a beer, and he'll tell you the meaning of life. Fer real.

And if you come out Thursday evening, there's a very good chance that you'll have the opportunity to buy him that beer afterward. I mean, the bloke's Irish, for feck's sake.

Anyway, Official Press Release:

Philosopher Dr. Peter Rollins to Speak at The John Leland Center

On Thursday, February 26, 2009, at 7:30 P.M., The John Leland Center for Theological Studies will sponsor a lecture by international author and speaker, Dr. Peter Rollins, research associate at Trinity College, Dublin. Dr. Rollins lecture will explore the need to move beyond the mere re-packaging of Christianity through the use of video, contemporary music, and culturally relevant sermons, and he will discuss the emerging sites that offer a vision that radically alters the way in which we express our faith and which ruptures the way in which we understand it.

This lecture is free to the public. The event will be hosted by Memorial Baptist Church, 3455 N. Glebe Road, Arlington, Virginia, 22207. For further information, contact Jennifer Foucher at (703) 812-4757 ext. 202.

A rant on "active" church (with fitness club analogy)

My friend Kate wrote a blog post in which she asked some excellent questions about the nature of "church" and what being a part of this thing called "church" looks like. Among her questions:

But then I began to think a bit - what if I’m the one who needs to be served? What if I’m not in a position to serve yet - not in a place to work? Am I part of the church too? And if I am, what does that mean? And if I’m not, then is that really such a bad thing?

Something in there got me fired up, and I wrote a long comment in reply. Since I ended up with so dang many words, I figured I'd post them here too. Here's me:

I think it depends what you mean by “not in a position to serve.” Here’s what *I* mean. (Note that I’m talking ideals here - specifically *my* ideals, FWIW.)

I don’t think churches should be places in which “just show up and be served (or taught or inspired or whatever)” is an option that would even make sense - on an ongoing basis. We all have periods in our lives when we need to just lean on others - when we’re suffering or overwhelmed or grieving or in crisis. This applies to pastors too, though y’all rarely have the freedom to go into that mode. Of course churches should be communities where we support each other in those times, and don’t ask much of the struggling person - this loving support should be a hallmark of Christian communities. (Though I’d also mention that I’ve received *huge* gifts through coming alongside folks who are struggling - so it’s not as if you’re not “serving” when you’re in a place of needing others to serve/help/support you, IMHO.)

But this should be in the context of a clear cultural context within the church community: it should be obvious to the newcomer walking in that this is a community of people who *all* work to serve and bless each other and the world. Yes, on any given day, not every single person will be able, or even needed, to work/serve. But it should simply be a given fact of the community culture that every single person in the community is encouraged and challenged (by the the people around them, not just the “leaders”) to discern the gifts they have for service, and to serve. This shouldn’t be something people just talk about, or that only some people do - it should be part of the nature of the community.

Walking into a church community should be like walking into a gym/health club. It should be blatantly obvious that everybody is there to actively participate. Sure, I *guess* you could just hang out and watch everybody else exercise, but that’s pretty obviously an odd thing to do. If you’re injured or sick, then you might need to work out *much* less strenuously and/or with a lot of help, or not work out at all for a while. But still, the nature of the place is immediately apparent. If you don’t want to exercise, you’ll probably go somewhere else.

I honestly think churches should be like that. Jesus calls followers, not fans. “Show up and be appreciative” should really not be a long-term option. *Everybody* has gifts, *everybody* can serve (I recall a story of an elderly woman who became frail, deaf, and blind - and found a new calling as a powerful intercessory prayer warrior), and our church communities should be places where *everybody* is actively invited to do so - from day one - not just with words but by the very nature of the community. Everybody else is serving, so it would be kinda weird not to.

And I do mean “from day one”. You’re new? Welcome! Can you help me put these books away? You’ve got doubts? Me too. What’s your take on today’s Scripture passage? Etc. But I *don’t* believe in the “We’ll start you out with just sitting back and being served/taught/inspired, then maybe you’ll eventually graduate to participation.” That’s rubbish. That’s how people go their whole lives as fans, not followers, of Jesus.

OK, sorry for the big rant. Whew. I got going there. Anyway, obviously something I feel strongly about.

Head on over to Kate's blog for the whole conversation - it's much better with all her words there too.

image by The Killer Biscuit (rights)

Free Philip Rizk!

This post is 100% stolen from P3T3RK3Y5. If you want to help get this story out, feel free to do like I did: don't shade your eyes - plagiarize!

-----

NY Times Van Spirits Away Protester in Egypt, Signaling Crackdown on Criticism Over Gaza

Associated Press - Germany seeks reasons for student's Egypt arrest

BBC - Gaza activist detained in Egypt

IHT - German-Egyptian activist held in secret location

Facebook Group - Please Join to raise visibility on this unlawful detention lacking in due process.

The more visibility this gains - the safer Philip is.


p.s. Want to Learn More?
Read more about Egypt, and it's human rights record.
US Aid to Egypt is great than any other Arab State.

P3T3RK3Y5

Little Hopeful Project

(HT to Moff for the title - she officially named this endeavor in an IM conversation recently.)

So I've been playing amateur PI lately (you know, like Magnum, only with far less successful facial hair), searching the interwebs for the trail of my biological father and his family.

The relationship between my Mom and my biological father, so I gather, was not really going to be a thing, so they parted ways amiably before I was born. (I've never laid eyes on the man.) My Mom and Dad (my real Dad, I mean) met several years later, and they married when I was about 6. (I was their ring bearer.) Dad adopted me, and they even changed my birth certificate. (Weird, huh?) And, quite honestly, this whole thing is something that I've thought about only rarely, my entire life. I know who my parents are, they've always been awesome, and this has not really been a source of ambiguity, doubt, longing, or even curiosity for me.

As for biodad, I've always known his name, and for many years I've known his address and phone number. He married, had kids, and settled down not far from where I grew up - and has lived in the same place for decades. About ten years ago, when Tina and I were trying to have kids, I sent him a letter, hoping to get some family medical history. He didn't reply, but it turned out to be a moot point when I found out shortly after that I can't conceive.

Until recently, though, I knew very little about him: his name, address, and phone number (which were in the phone book), and his wife's name and the fact that he'd had other kids (because Mom mentioned those facts). Mom didn't know anything else about his kids.

Then, last year, Mom's brother Roger, who had been missing for 26 years with zero contact with anybody in the family, found my Mom online and "plunk!" reappeared (albeit in a very minor way) in our lives. And this got me thinking about the siblings I've never met. I've never felt any need for biodad to be a part of my life, and I still don't - and by the same token, there is no lack in my life that I'm looking for these siblings to fill. But still - they're my family. I'd like to know who they are, and vice-versa. So I decided to do some digging. And I found out: I do, apparently, have a sister and two brothers!

So I emailed biodad, told him what I'm hoping for, and asked him to get back to me - and also said that if I didn't hear back and he didn't ask me not to, I'd try other methods of contacting his kids.

It didn't bounce. I wonder what will happen next? I'm really not expecting much, but I'm probably hopeful enough to set myself up for some disappointment.

Oh well. Little hopeful project. :-)

Photo by Litandmore (rights)

Christian perspectives on homosexuality

Mike Morrell, in a comment on Tony Jones's blog, offers an extremely thoughtful and helpful map of the range of Christian perspectives on issues of sexual orientation. Mike's aim is

to lay out in as concise a manner as possible my own readings, prayer, and reflection in this these past few years, showing essentially four different options people of faith have in this regard. I'm pretty sure we all fall into one of these four understandings. My goal in showing them in a descriptive, matter-of-fact manner is to humanize all four perspectives, so that we don't demonize one another.

In the end, he really only comes up with three perspectives, but the rest is so good that I do not deduct points for that. :-)

Really, if you care about or are even interested in these issues, check it out. It's worth a read. (As usual on blogs, though, your mileage may vary in the comments section.)

HT: The Moff (via Facebook)

Faith, relationship, betrayal

"The opposite of faith is not doubt, it’s certainty." - Anne Lamott

Lately, I've been having some conversations with friends and loved ones on the subject of relationships. (Close friendships, romantic relationships, marriages, etc.) Are they worth the risk? Do they inevitably contain the seeds of deep disappointment, and even betrayal? Surely there are some relationships which can be counted on for life? Or at least ones that we will look back upon, in our old age, as being rock solid?

So I've been thinking about that, and here's a thought I have.

All close relationships - from a friendship to a business partnership to a marriage - are built on faith and trust. And as St. Anne says in the quote above (which might not be original to her), certainty is the opposite of faith. I think any faith-based relationship (the only other kind being a shallow, faith-free relationship) has risk built in, right from the get-go. There is no certainty in relationships. That's not possible, given that the other party is a person of free will, and always fundamentally a mystery to you (and, probably, to herself as well). Every relationship contains the seeds of deep disappointment, pain, and (if the relationship is close and long-lasting), probably full-blown betrayal. This is what I think.

Further, I think this applies even to our relationship with God. Before I defend that statement, let me make a claim about the nature of disappointment and betrayal. In my opinion, the only meaningful standard for disappointment/betrayal is the subjective opinion of the wounded party. In other words, if you feel that I have disappointed or betrayed you, then this is in fact the case, no matter the intent behind my actions. What other standard is possible? If you feel betrayed by my action, is that betrayal made untrue if I was "doing my best" or "had your best interest at heart"? Does that change the emotional impact of betrayal (at least initially)? Are those things even possible to determine coherently? What exactly does "doing one's best" mean, anyway? I could always have tried harder, been more thoughtful, listened more carefully to you.

So if you grant me that betrayal is determined in the heart of the betrayed, then maybe you'll see where I'm coming from when I say that we will all, certainly, be betrayed by God. No matter how humble we are, no matter how spiritual, how pious, no matter how healthy our prayer life, there will come a day when a prayer we prayed with all the depth of our being goes unanswered - at least as far as we can tell. And we will feel betrayed by God. And that betrayal will be, in my opinion, all too real. (There are many well-worn defenses of God in situations like these, and to me they all boil down to, "You know, God must have been doing God's best.")

If anyone reading this cannot recall a time when they've experienced this kind of betrayal by God, I'd be very surprised.

So this (I think) is why our relationship with God, as with others, is characterized by faith - by trust - by confidence - but not by certainty. And faith implies risk. And relationship, I believe, implies betrayal. And it's damn well worth it anyway.

A corollary to this theory goes a long way toward making up for this, if you ask me. It says that we should see every single blessing we receive - from God, from our spouse, from our family, friends, beloved, or a stranger on the street - as a gift of grace.

Loving God, you betraying bastard, please help us to live lives of risk and grace. Amen.

photo of Giotto di Bondone (1267-1337), Life of Christ: Kiss of Judas, at the Cappella degli scrovegni a Padova by Carla216 (rights)