Context
My Quaker meeting is reading excerpts from Patricia Loring's Listening Spirituality. One person was particularly struck by this sentence, found in the chapter entitled "Discernment: the Heart of Listening Spirituality: "Both interpretation reflect Friends' felt sense of the Divine as a dynamism rather than as an entity." After some discussion, I added "some" before "Friends'" to my copy of the reading.
Commentary
Quakers are non-dogmatic, which means that although we may spend time talking about what we believe as individuals, we never say that someone else's belief is incorrect. At my meeting, at least, that means that people come to the table with many different conceptions of God. The person who most tends toward the atheistic side of the spectrum like to tease me by asking if I believe God is an old white man in long robes. The completely honest answer to this question is, "Sometimes."
Realistically, I think it's quite a stretch to expect that any human being's understanding of the divine would be entirely accurate. We end up using different language to describe the various aspects we do understand, but those aspects change over time, if only because we choose to emphasize different ones. Even if we decided to remove a great deal of cultural vagaries by talking only about Roman Catholics, a child's idea of her God would vary from a Jesuit's about to graduate from seminary, and his would likely be different from the one held by an elderly woman who's recently been widowed.
So I don't object to people seeing the divine as a dynamism rather than an entity. I even kind of understand where the idea comes from. I think many people prefer this conception because being a discrete entity, or a person, as some of us would have it, would seem to establish inappropriate limits of time and space on the divine nature. On the other hand, I think non-personal language like "flow" or "energy" or, say, "dynamism" is inappropriately limiting as well, in that it takes away the idea the God has a will.
Loring has an answer for this. In the very next paragraph of our reading she discusses a recording of Thomas Merton (referenced in this list) in which he jokes with students about wasting time looking for the map God has planned out for history so they'll know exactly what to do. In Merton's mind, there is no pre-designed map; the road is constantly changing according to the decisions we make and the actions we take.
From my perspective, Merton and Loring are batting .500 as a team. I do agree it's not a good use of our time to try to figure out what God's entire plan is, but that's because the "trying to fit divine-sized stuff into a human brain" problem occurs again, not because the plan doesn't exist. In the final analysis, I feel much more confident living my little Lynn-sized life if I know that God has everything around me in hand (Eeek! A personification!), and everything will work to the good.
What did you see today?
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
7/24/2011
I heard the Apostles' Creed
Context
I'm in Houston today, so per my usual custom, I went to worship at Christ the King Lutheran church. I used to be a Lutheran and this is the church I got married in. Lutherans always say a creed at some point during any communion service; today it was the Apostles' Creed. Quakers, on the other hand, are very non-creedal.
Commentary
I think the main reason Quakers are non-creedal is because of the feeling that creeds create an exclusive atmosphere. We're concerned that we would be saying, in essence, "If you don't believe this, you don't belong here."
Lately, when we talk about beliefs at my Quaker meeting, I feel like Friends are saying something beyond just: "We shouldn't have a set creed as a group." We seem to have moved on to: "We shouldn't have any strongly held religious beliefs as individuals, either." This perspective says our beliefs are so often proved spirit-killing and wrong that it is a bad idea to hold them at all. Better to just have faith in God in general and not be married to specific theological ideas.
As I was speaking the Apostles' Creed today, I realized I don't agree. For one thing, I actually believe everything in the Apostles' Creed. I don't think that gives me exclusive access to God, but I'm not going to pretend I don't believe those words just to make others feel comfortable.
Moreover, I don't think I can have faith in God without believing certain things. Here are four that seem pretty bedrock to me:
1) I believe that God is powerful.
2) I believe that the things I see constitute the work of God.
3) I believe that God has suffered.
4) I believe that God will ultimately bring justice to our exceedingly evil world.
Without these beliefs, having faith in God seems pointless to me. At its most primitive level, my trust is predicated on an expected outcome: the redemption of the world. If I believed that the march of history was just going to continue on its current path, I would commit ritual suicide. If I didn't care one way or the other, I wouldn't bother trying to learn about God and serve Him.
What's funny about the current discussion of beliefs in our meeting is that one of the ways we encourage people to discern whether Quakerism would be a good fit for them is to take this quiz at beliefnet.com. Unsurprisingly, most of the questions are about one's beliefs.
What did you hear today?
I'm in Houston today, so per my usual custom, I went to worship at Christ the King Lutheran church. I used to be a Lutheran and this is the church I got married in. Lutherans always say a creed at some point during any communion service; today it was the Apostles' Creed. Quakers, on the other hand, are very non-creedal.
Commentary
I think the main reason Quakers are non-creedal is because of the feeling that creeds create an exclusive atmosphere. We're concerned that we would be saying, in essence, "If you don't believe this, you don't belong here."
Lately, when we talk about beliefs at my Quaker meeting, I feel like Friends are saying something beyond just: "We shouldn't have a set creed as a group." We seem to have moved on to: "We shouldn't have any strongly held religious beliefs as individuals, either." This perspective says our beliefs are so often proved spirit-killing and wrong that it is a bad idea to hold them at all. Better to just have faith in God in general and not be married to specific theological ideas.
As I was speaking the Apostles' Creed today, I realized I don't agree. For one thing, I actually believe everything in the Apostles' Creed. I don't think that gives me exclusive access to God, but I'm not going to pretend I don't believe those words just to make others feel comfortable.
Moreover, I don't think I can have faith in God without believing certain things. Here are four that seem pretty bedrock to me:
1) I believe that God is powerful.
2) I believe that the things I see constitute the work of God.
3) I believe that God has suffered.
4) I believe that God will ultimately bring justice to our exceedingly evil world.
Without these beliefs, having faith in God seems pointless to me. At its most primitive level, my trust is predicated on an expected outcome: the redemption of the world. If I believed that the march of history was just going to continue on its current path, I would commit ritual suicide. If I didn't care one way or the other, I wouldn't bother trying to learn about God and serve Him.
What's funny about the current discussion of beliefs in our meeting is that one of the ways we encourage people to discern whether Quakerism would be a good fit for them is to take this quiz at beliefnet.com. Unsurprisingly, most of the questions are about one's beliefs.
What did you hear today?
5/14/2011
I heard a question
Context
At my Quaker meeting today, we discussed this article about the Bible by Kristin Swenson. One of the regular attenders at the meeting has neither a strong interest nor a strong background in the Bible, so she asked what we thought the Bible was for. I said the Bible was for religious instruction. It has pretty good poetry, although it's probably better in the original Greek; reasonable history, especially if you're interested in the various kings of Israel, and some great philosophy. I also said it makes a poor science textbook. Someone at the table said this last would be a radical idea to the Texas Board of Education, because over the past few years, Texas has been embroiled in a debate about how to treat the theory of evolution in science textbooks.
Commentary
I need to start with some housekeeping. The link for Kristin Swenson's article goes to the Deseret News instead of the Shreveport Times, because the latter's archive didn't make it appear in a search. I'm sure they'll rue the day they lost the huge amount of traffic that comes from my blog!
Also, I try to be accurate in the Context portion of the blog, so I reported my comment that the poetry was better in the Greek. Upon further review, I should have said, "in the original language," because very little of the poetry in the Bible was originally written in Greek.
Lastly, I posted the most recent article I could find about the Texas textbook controversy, but if you do a Google search for Texas Board of Education creationism, you'll find all kinds of other goodies.
OK, now the actual commentary. Scientists don't like it when school boards put "all sides of scientific theories" language in textbook standards, because they think it's code for "take potshots at the theory of evolution." It may very well be, but the testimony on integrity (that again!) won't permit me to say so without positive proof.
So I won't deal with that issue. Instead, I'll talk about why the Bible itself, not any creationist-leaning textbook, makes a poor resource for scientific learning. The purpose of science books, and science classes for that matter, is to make observations about the world around us, come up with a plausible explanations for it, and ideally, teach people to do the same.
The Bible is terrible at this. In general, it jumps straight to conclusions without offering any physical evidence for them. I see no "We conclude God created the world in seven days because of this, this, and this" in Genesis; do you? Luckily, assertions about the nature of the physical world are kind of rare in the Bible; it's mostly about setting up a belief system and acting upon it. And to be fair, science textbooks are as bad as religious instruction as the Bible is at science.
Science is tethered to the realm of the possible. This is problematic for religion (at least my religion) in two ways:
1) Faith takes us outside the realm of what's physically possible. The Bible asserts that people can rise from the dead (2 Kings 4:32-37), that men can be thrown into a furnace and come out unharmed(Daniel 3:19-28), and that there will come a time when wolves lie down with lambs (Isaiah 11:6-8), and that's just in the Old Testament. The New Testament really goes berserk. Science can bring awe and wonder, but only faith sets us free from the tyranny of our lives to see new, unimagined possibilities. I recognize the irony of using that word, but whatcha gonna do?
2) Science makes no distinction between the possible and the desirable. Observable phenomena tell us that splitting atoms can cause horrific destruction. Science, in its purest form, has no opinion about whether this is a good or bad thing. Pretty much all religious thought comes down firmly on one side of the issue.
So science and religion have different purposes and places in our lives. Is that really such a radical idea?
What did you hear today?
At my Quaker meeting today, we discussed this article about the Bible by Kristin Swenson. One of the regular attenders at the meeting has neither a strong interest nor a strong background in the Bible, so she asked what we thought the Bible was for. I said the Bible was for religious instruction. It has pretty good poetry, although it's probably better in the original Greek; reasonable history, especially if you're interested in the various kings of Israel, and some great philosophy. I also said it makes a poor science textbook. Someone at the table said this last would be a radical idea to the Texas Board of Education, because over the past few years, Texas has been embroiled in a debate about how to treat the theory of evolution in science textbooks.
Commentary
I need to start with some housekeeping. The link for Kristin Swenson's article goes to the Deseret News instead of the Shreveport Times, because the latter's archive didn't make it appear in a search. I'm sure they'll rue the day they lost the huge amount of traffic that comes from my blog!
Also, I try to be accurate in the Context portion of the blog, so I reported my comment that the poetry was better in the Greek. Upon further review, I should have said, "in the original language," because very little of the poetry in the Bible was originally written in Greek.
Lastly, I posted the most recent article I could find about the Texas textbook controversy, but if you do a Google search for Texas Board of Education creationism, you'll find all kinds of other goodies.
OK, now the actual commentary. Scientists don't like it when school boards put "all sides of scientific theories" language in textbook standards, because they think it's code for "take potshots at the theory of evolution." It may very well be, but the testimony on integrity (that again!) won't permit me to say so without positive proof.
So I won't deal with that issue. Instead, I'll talk about why the Bible itself, not any creationist-leaning textbook, makes a poor resource for scientific learning. The purpose of science books, and science classes for that matter, is to make observations about the world around us, come up with a plausible explanations for it, and ideally, teach people to do the same.
The Bible is terrible at this. In general, it jumps straight to conclusions without offering any physical evidence for them. I see no "We conclude God created the world in seven days because of this, this, and this" in Genesis; do you? Luckily, assertions about the nature of the physical world are kind of rare in the Bible; it's mostly about setting up a belief system and acting upon it. And to be fair, science textbooks are as bad as religious instruction as the Bible is at science.
Science is tethered to the realm of the possible. This is problematic for religion (at least my religion) in two ways:
1) Faith takes us outside the realm of what's physically possible. The Bible asserts that people can rise from the dead (2 Kings 4:32-37), that men can be thrown into a furnace and come out unharmed(Daniel 3:19-28), and that there will come a time when wolves lie down with lambs (Isaiah 11:6-8), and that's just in the Old Testament. The New Testament really goes berserk. Science can bring awe and wonder, but only faith sets us free from the tyranny of our lives to see new, unimagined possibilities. I recognize the irony of using that word, but whatcha gonna do?
2) Science makes no distinction between the possible and the desirable. Observable phenomena tell us that splitting atoms can cause horrific destruction. Science, in its purest form, has no opinion about whether this is a good or bad thing. Pretty much all religious thought comes down firmly on one side of the issue.
So science and religion have different purposes and places in our lives. Is that really such a radical idea?
What did you hear today?
11/28/2009
I heard a plea for help
Context
At my Quaker meeting we usually have a program before our meeting for worship. The program today was about handling emotions like anger and sadness while still remaining faithful to the testimony on integrity. During our discussion, one regular attender spoke about someone he knows whose life is in turmoil because she refuses to forgive her father for mistreating her. He asked if we had a suggestion for something to say that wouldn't cause her to turn on him and I said that nothing could ensure the desired response.
Commentary
I hope I wasn't too harsh with my co-religionist. My concern was that he might be seeking a magic bullet here and I wanted to discourage him in that endeavor.
I blame writers. Frequently in works of fiction on page, stage and screen, someone says something that ends all argument and sets everyone listening on the right track (I'm particularly annoyed when this happens to be the loudest voice on a TV show, but I digress). So we might come to believe that there are words that will have this effect in real life as well, but in my experience they are far fewer and further between.
I'm not saying it's a bad idea to be like a writer in choosing words carefully. I rehearse stuff all the time. In fact, this is about the third different narrative style I had considered for today's blog entry. If you would think one of the other two might have been better, oh well!
It's another aspect of fiction writing that may be getting in the way, though. Writers not only get to choose what their characters say, they get to choose how other characters react to it. I think the question posited in this Salon interview is nonsensical: "Do you think novelists are responsible for what their characters think?" If we're not responsible for the products of our own minds, we're in serious trouble!
In real life though, we cannot possibly control how people respond to us. I've been known to use the phrase "appropriate response," but realistically the question has to be, "appropriate according to what criteria?" I find I can't even predict my own response to stimuli with any regularity; a comment I would just let slide under some circumstances becomes an unpardonable transgression under others.
So am I saying my friend from the meeting should just avoid talking to this woman about forgiveness, since he can't predict her reaction? No. I just think he should pay attention to another aspect of real life that is different than fiction: the length of it. I think one of the reasons fiction writers use these "magic bullet" lines is because they need to wrap up a plot in a finite amount of time. We are under no such constraints. We can talk to a person about forgiveness and even if they yell at us, even if they add us to their list of unforgivens, we still may have an impact long down the road.
I believe this is why the Bible calls us to faithfulness, not necessarily effectiveness. Or at least, not effectiveness that we can easily measure. Time and again in God's Word, prophets are praised for bringing a message, whether it appears to be working or not. And some of the effect isn't known even during that prophet's lifetime. It comes when I read the message and learn something. Talk about an unanticipated response!
What did you hear today?
At my Quaker meeting we usually have a program before our meeting for worship. The program today was about handling emotions like anger and sadness while still remaining faithful to the testimony on integrity. During our discussion, one regular attender spoke about someone he knows whose life is in turmoil because she refuses to forgive her father for mistreating her. He asked if we had a suggestion for something to say that wouldn't cause her to turn on him and I said that nothing could ensure the desired response.
Commentary
I hope I wasn't too harsh with my co-religionist. My concern was that he might be seeking a magic bullet here and I wanted to discourage him in that endeavor.
I blame writers. Frequently in works of fiction on page, stage and screen, someone says something that ends all argument and sets everyone listening on the right track (I'm particularly annoyed when this happens to be the loudest voice on a TV show, but I digress). So we might come to believe that there are words that will have this effect in real life as well, but in my experience they are far fewer and further between.
I'm not saying it's a bad idea to be like a writer in choosing words carefully. I rehearse stuff all the time. In fact, this is about the third different narrative style I had considered for today's blog entry. If you would think one of the other two might have been better, oh well!
It's another aspect of fiction writing that may be getting in the way, though. Writers not only get to choose what their characters say, they get to choose how other characters react to it. I think the question posited in this Salon interview is nonsensical: "Do you think novelists are responsible for what their characters think?" If we're not responsible for the products of our own minds, we're in serious trouble!
In real life though, we cannot possibly control how people respond to us. I've been known to use the phrase "appropriate response," but realistically the question has to be, "appropriate according to what criteria?" I find I can't even predict my own response to stimuli with any regularity; a comment I would just let slide under some circumstances becomes an unpardonable transgression under others.
So am I saying my friend from the meeting should just avoid talking to this woman about forgiveness, since he can't predict her reaction? No. I just think he should pay attention to another aspect of real life that is different than fiction: the length of it. I think one of the reasons fiction writers use these "magic bullet" lines is because they need to wrap up a plot in a finite amount of time. We are under no such constraints. We can talk to a person about forgiveness and even if they yell at us, even if they add us to their list of unforgivens, we still may have an impact long down the road.
I believe this is why the Bible calls us to faithfulness, not necessarily effectiveness. Or at least, not effectiveness that we can easily measure. Time and again in God's Word, prophets are praised for bringing a message, whether it appears to be working or not. And some of the effect isn't known even during that prophet's lifetime. It comes when I read the message and learn something. Talk about an unanticipated response!
What did you hear today?
9/10/2009
I saw an e-mail from a Friend
Context
A member of the Quaker meeting I attend sent an e-mail today introducing a woman who is planning to join us for the first time on Saturday. We are a small meeting, so new people are very noticeable.
Commentary
"Go therefore an make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you." These words are almost the last things Jesus says in the gospel according to Matthew (New Revised Standard Version) and are referred to as The Great Commission.
No passage in the Bible has more power to both inspire and terrify Christians. We know that Jesus has done great things for us and theoretically we want to share that good news with everyone, but the practice is often lacking. I've been sampling Jim Henderson's excellent book Evangelism Without Additives, and it has a lot to say about both our discomfiture and our ineffectualness.
Henderson talks a lot about methodology. I'd like to talk a little about goals. It seems to me that one of the sub-goals of our evangelism practices is convincing someone to come to our worship services. Why is that? I'm pretty sure we don't actually believe God only works within a given set of walls or timeframe, so why are we so concerned with bringing people into our building at a certain time instead of taking the love of God to them? Is it laziness? Do we feel too vulnerable out there in the world and want to return to our comfortable surroundings? Or is it a simple way of keeping score, where a big crowd at church equals successful completion of God's mission?
Whatever our reasoning, I don't think it's sound in light of what Jesus actually commanded us to do. The reason I don't think so comes from Jesus' actual last words in Matthew: "And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." Not a single word about us having to come to Him, and He's the Master. Imagine what we servants are called to do.
What did you see today?
A member of the Quaker meeting I attend sent an e-mail today introducing a woman who is planning to join us for the first time on Saturday. We are a small meeting, so new people are very noticeable.
Commentary
"Go therefore an make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you." These words are almost the last things Jesus says in the gospel according to Matthew (New Revised Standard Version) and are referred to as The Great Commission.
No passage in the Bible has more power to both inspire and terrify Christians. We know that Jesus has done great things for us and theoretically we want to share that good news with everyone, but the practice is often lacking. I've been sampling Jim Henderson's excellent book Evangelism Without Additives, and it has a lot to say about both our discomfiture and our ineffectualness.
Henderson talks a lot about methodology. I'd like to talk a little about goals. It seems to me that one of the sub-goals of our evangelism practices is convincing someone to come to our worship services. Why is that? I'm pretty sure we don't actually believe God only works within a given set of walls or timeframe, so why are we so concerned with bringing people into our building at a certain time instead of taking the love of God to them? Is it laziness? Do we feel too vulnerable out there in the world and want to return to our comfortable surroundings? Or is it a simple way of keeping score, where a big crowd at church equals successful completion of God's mission?
Whatever our reasoning, I don't think it's sound in light of what Jesus actually commanded us to do. The reason I don't think so comes from Jesus' actual last words in Matthew: "And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." Not a single word about us having to come to Him, and He's the Master. Imagine what we servants are called to do.
What did you see today?
9/03/2009
I saw a question
Context
First United Methodist Church has an electronic sign in their parking that flashes a variety of messages about events, upcoming sermons, etc. Today one of the messages said, I think, "How does God guide us? Romans 12:1-2."
This is the text of Romans 1:1-2, according to the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible: "I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God--what is good and acceptable and perfect."
Commentary
I sometimes get concerned about the ways churches market themselves, believing that they sometimes work too hard to be the "cool kids," instead of the people of God, but I honestly like First Methodist's sign. I really feel like I've learned a lot about their faith community just by my almost daily observation of the sign.
That being said, I'm not sure what they were trying to say with today's question and quote. Maybe it's a preview of an upcoming sermon, because I don't think Romans 12:1-2 answers the question "How does God guide us?" More like, "How do we prepare ourselves for God's guidance?", which is an important question in and of itself.
As for the original question, I got to thinking about it right away. Not having the Bible memorized, I didn't know until I got home what Romans 12:1-2 said, but my answer to "How does guide God me?" (I wouldn't dream of speaking for anyone else) is, "By how I feel, as long as I'm wiling to examine those feelings closely."
As mentioned previously, my conscience is very active. I generally know when I've done wrong because I feel bad. Not always right away, because most of my sins involve anger and arrogance, and those emotions give a nice little adrenaline rush, but when I start to come down I realize, "Wow! That was bad behavior!" Conversely, when I do the right thing, I feel good. Again, not necessarily immediately; an onerous task in the pursuit of righteousness is still an onerous task, but eventually I find I'm given a generous measure of both peace and joy.
These "not right away"s and "eventually"s are the reason I make examining my feelings closely part of the formula for discerning God's will. I can't just take an "If it feels good, do it!" attitude, because being evil can feel awfully good at first. I believe we have a lot of lower instincts and sin appeals to all of them. I also think we have a tendency to tell ourselves we're happy or content or even justified when we're not, and can carry on that way for quite a while. But my experience is, if I really examine what's going on I feel unsatisfied if I've been unjust or callous or dishonest. My conscience is saying, "You've got unfinished business. And you can cover your ears and say, 'la, la, la' all you want. It doesn't change a thing."
What did you see today?
First United Methodist Church has an electronic sign in their parking that flashes a variety of messages about events, upcoming sermons, etc. Today one of the messages said, I think, "How does God guide us? Romans 12:1-2."
This is the text of Romans 1:1-2, according to the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible: "I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God--what is good and acceptable and perfect."
Commentary
I sometimes get concerned about the ways churches market themselves, believing that they sometimes work too hard to be the "cool kids," instead of the people of God, but I honestly like First Methodist's sign. I really feel like I've learned a lot about their faith community just by my almost daily observation of the sign.
That being said, I'm not sure what they were trying to say with today's question and quote. Maybe it's a preview of an upcoming sermon, because I don't think Romans 12:1-2 answers the question "How does God guide us?" More like, "How do we prepare ourselves for God's guidance?", which is an important question in and of itself.
As for the original question, I got to thinking about it right away. Not having the Bible memorized, I didn't know until I got home what Romans 12:1-2 said, but my answer to "How does guide God me?" (I wouldn't dream of speaking for anyone else) is, "By how I feel, as long as I'm wiling to examine those feelings closely."
As mentioned previously, my conscience is very active. I generally know when I've done wrong because I feel bad. Not always right away, because most of my sins involve anger and arrogance, and those emotions give a nice little adrenaline rush, but when I start to come down I realize, "Wow! That was bad behavior!" Conversely, when I do the right thing, I feel good. Again, not necessarily immediately; an onerous task in the pursuit of righteousness is still an onerous task, but eventually I find I'm given a generous measure of both peace and joy.
These "not right away"s and "eventually"s are the reason I make examining my feelings closely part of the formula for discerning God's will. I can't just take an "If it feels good, do it!" attitude, because being evil can feel awfully good at first. I believe we have a lot of lower instincts and sin appeals to all of them. I also think we have a tendency to tell ourselves we're happy or content or even justified when we're not, and can carry on that way for quite a while. But my experience is, if I really examine what's going on I feel unsatisfied if I've been unjust or callous or dishonest. My conscience is saying, "You've got unfinished business. And you can cover your ears and say, 'la, la, la' all you want. It doesn't change a thing."
What did you see today?
2/08/2009
I saw a group of unfaithful people
Context
I had a dream this morning. It started in a church. I was there with my husband and I had decided I wasn’t interested in the proceedings, so I went by myself to an area in the rear where the pews were turned backwards and I could hang out without really paying attention to what was going on.
After a time a woman rose up to speak to the church. She said that she and a group of others were going to leave the church, which was called Nassaret, because of its teachings. I was interested in this development, so I looked over the back of my pew to see the power point presentation she was doing.
She mentioned several offensive things that had been said at Nassaret, including that it was OK to look at nudity. None of the things she said were preachings that would bother me in a church, but even though I didn’t agree with her I remember admiring the zeal behind her words.
After a time I saw the separatist group again. They were readying a boat, so I guess they were planning a major geographic exodus, rather than just starting another church nearby. I met some of the other people involved in the movement, including a drummer who was playing some music for people to work by. Now that I’m awake and remembering this dream, I realize that the drummer was the administrator of a nursing home where I do some volunteer work.
Another period of time passed and as I was going down a street near my house I saw the drummer again, drumming between orange cones that had been set in the street to reserve the lane for her. I was dismayed because I realized this meant the group hadn’t separated themselves at all. Sure enough, following the cones I found that they were part of a fundraising effort and they led back to the boat the group had been preparing. There were tons of people on board, including all the separatists and all the people from Nassaret.
I found the woman who had started the movement and asked her what had happened. She said they had found out they didn’t really need to create a schism and everything was going to be all right. Suspicious, I asked who had told her so. She said, “He’s right here!” and took me into another room to meet him. “This is Senator [Something] Neutral.” As soon as I saw him my suspicions were concerned. He was a servant of the devil.
“Nice to see you again,” I said, putting out my hand to shake. He shook it and said, “likewise.” Then I said, “begone!” and he said a phrase I didn’t know, presumably “bite me” in some ancient language.
“Begone!” I said again, and he gave no response. “Do you really want me to say it a third time, with the puff of smoke and everything?” He shrugged.
“Begone!” I said and he did in fact disappear in a puff of smoke.
The former leader of the separatist group was appalled. “I’m going to have you put in jail!”
“Do it! For God’s sake!” I said this in anger, and then stopped because it seemed an inappropriate time to be using the Lord’s name in vain. Then I realized I really was speaking for God’s sake so it wasn’t in vain. I said it again, “For God’s sake!” A third time, and deadly serious. “For God’s sake, follow through on one thing you promise Him you’ll do!” Then I woke up.
Commentary
I believe this dream came from God so it doesn't require a lot of commentary, but I do have a couple of things to say.
It was a dream, so my conscious mind may have changed some aspects in order to make it work as a narrative. I do clearly remember the exchange with the Senator and the final thing I said to the woman is a verbatim transcription.
I don't know if this dream is for me or for someone else. I can't think of anything I've backslid on recently, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. If it is for you then I'm glad to have supplied it.
In Revelation 3:16 God says, "because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth."
What did you see today?
I had a dream this morning. It started in a church. I was there with my husband and I had decided I wasn’t interested in the proceedings, so I went by myself to an area in the rear where the pews were turned backwards and I could hang out without really paying attention to what was going on.
After a time a woman rose up to speak to the church. She said that she and a group of others were going to leave the church, which was called Nassaret, because of its teachings. I was interested in this development, so I looked over the back of my pew to see the power point presentation she was doing.
She mentioned several offensive things that had been said at Nassaret, including that it was OK to look at nudity. None of the things she said were preachings that would bother me in a church, but even though I didn’t agree with her I remember admiring the zeal behind her words.
After a time I saw the separatist group again. They were readying a boat, so I guess they were planning a major geographic exodus, rather than just starting another church nearby. I met some of the other people involved in the movement, including a drummer who was playing some music for people to work by. Now that I’m awake and remembering this dream, I realize that the drummer was the administrator of a nursing home where I do some volunteer work.
Another period of time passed and as I was going down a street near my house I saw the drummer again, drumming between orange cones that had been set in the street to reserve the lane for her. I was dismayed because I realized this meant the group hadn’t separated themselves at all. Sure enough, following the cones I found that they were part of a fundraising effort and they led back to the boat the group had been preparing. There were tons of people on board, including all the separatists and all the people from Nassaret.
I found the woman who had started the movement and asked her what had happened. She said they had found out they didn’t really need to create a schism and everything was going to be all right. Suspicious, I asked who had told her so. She said, “He’s right here!” and took me into another room to meet him. “This is Senator [Something] Neutral.” As soon as I saw him my suspicions were concerned. He was a servant of the devil.
“Nice to see you again,” I said, putting out my hand to shake. He shook it and said, “likewise.” Then I said, “begone!” and he said a phrase I didn’t know, presumably “bite me” in some ancient language.
“Begone!” I said again, and he gave no response. “Do you really want me to say it a third time, with the puff of smoke and everything?” He shrugged.
“Begone!” I said and he did in fact disappear in a puff of smoke.
The former leader of the separatist group was appalled. “I’m going to have you put in jail!”
“Do it! For God’s sake!” I said this in anger, and then stopped because it seemed an inappropriate time to be using the Lord’s name in vain. Then I realized I really was speaking for God’s sake so it wasn’t in vain. I said it again, “For God’s sake!” A third time, and deadly serious. “For God’s sake, follow through on one thing you promise Him you’ll do!” Then I woke up.
Commentary
I believe this dream came from God so it doesn't require a lot of commentary, but I do have a couple of things to say.
It was a dream, so my conscious mind may have changed some aspects in order to make it work as a narrative. I do clearly remember the exchange with the Senator and the final thing I said to the woman is a verbatim transcription.
I don't know if this dream is for me or for someone else. I can't think of anything I've backslid on recently, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. If it is for you then I'm glad to have supplied it.
In Revelation 3:16 God says, "because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth."
What did you see today?
6/21/2008
I heard Friends discussing God's nature
Context
In Friends' meeting today we revisited a traditional topic: does God care about/control everything that happens? I am on the "way yes" side of this argument, but several other attenders view God as taking a more hands-off approach. This discussion, possibly because we live in the South, often centers on whether or not God influences the results of football games.
Commentary
Yes, I think God is involved in football. I don't advocate the use of prayer to try to sway Him one way or the other, but in my opinion He does care. I guess this is because I believe, like Amy Grant, that "we're just here to learn to love Him," so anywhere I learn things, I see God at work.
And I get quite an education from football. How-to-live lessons like: "a good game plan has to have both commitment and flexibility built in," and "the best predictor of ultimate success is your response to failure." Also: "every member of a team contributes to the triumph of the whole."
I also learn about God's creativity. I am awestruck when I watch what football players can do with their bodies, minds and hearts. God created each of those things, so watching is an opportunity to give Him glory.
I think this belief of mine makes particular sense in the context of this blog. After all, the whole point of it is to see God everywhere. Right?
What did you hear today?
In Friends' meeting today we revisited a traditional topic: does God care about/control everything that happens? I am on the "way yes" side of this argument, but several other attenders view God as taking a more hands-off approach. This discussion, possibly because we live in the South, often centers on whether or not God influences the results of football games.
Commentary
Yes, I think God is involved in football. I don't advocate the use of prayer to try to sway Him one way or the other, but in my opinion He does care. I guess this is because I believe, like Amy Grant, that "we're just here to learn to love Him," so anywhere I learn things, I see God at work.
And I get quite an education from football. How-to-live lessons like: "a good game plan has to have both commitment and flexibility built in," and "the best predictor of ultimate success is your response to failure." Also: "every member of a team contributes to the triumph of the whole."
I also learn about God's creativity. I am awestruck when I watch what football players can do with their bodies, minds and hearts. God created each of those things, so watching is an opportunity to give Him glory.
I think this belief of mine makes particular sense in the context of this blog. After all, the whole point of it is to see God everywhere. Right?
What did you hear today?
5/17/2008
I heard a Friend talk about community reaction.
Context
My Friends meeting in Texarkana tries to have a "Peace Out" every month. This involves going into the community and doing God's work. As we were brainstorming ideas for next month's Peace Out, we thought of several things that might benefit disadvantaged members of the African-American community. One Friend expressed concern that the beneficiaries might be resentful of "these white ladies" (and we all are) coming in where they're not wanted and doing stuff.
Commentary
I don't know if race influences actions more strongly in the South or if we're just more open about it at Quaker meeting, but the subject does seem to come up fairly regularly when we're talking about the Texarkana community. If I were to try to articulate the resentment my friend was concerned about, I think it might go something like this: "these white ladies have no idea what our lives are like, so it's not possible for them to lend a helping hand without judging us, trying to change us, and generally feeling superior to us. Therefore we don't want them around."
This reaction makes me think about Christianity (OK, a lot of things make me think about Christianity). Christians know that God in fact does judge us, wants us to change, and is superior to us. In the book of Job, God makes it pretty clear that He's unconcerned about our resentment (Start from chapter 38 and go from there. You'll get the idea). However, Jesus' incarnation seems to indicate God thought some empathy might be in order. Either that, or He was removing our last stupid excuse for not heeding His word: "you don't know what I'm going through, God. Your opinion doesn't count." Well, now He knows.
So where does that leave a group of white ladies working in an African-American community? Well, I don't think it's true that we have no idea what people's lives are like. We may not be in the same economic or social circumstances, but I think all of us have felt overwhelmed, oppressed, hopeless, unmotivated, and yes, resentful at some time in our lives. If we can offer the empathy that comes from knowing all of us need help sometimes, then perhaps we'll be doing more than just a good deed. We'll actually be furthering God's kingdom.
By the way, here's my favorite joke about empathy: never judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes. That way, when you judge him you'll be a mile away and you'll have his shoes!
What did you hear today?
My Friends meeting in Texarkana tries to have a "Peace Out" every month. This involves going into the community and doing God's work. As we were brainstorming ideas for next month's Peace Out, we thought of several things that might benefit disadvantaged members of the African-American community. One Friend expressed concern that the beneficiaries might be resentful of "these white ladies" (and we all are) coming in where they're not wanted and doing stuff.
Commentary
I don't know if race influences actions more strongly in the South or if we're just more open about it at Quaker meeting, but the subject does seem to come up fairly regularly when we're talking about the Texarkana community. If I were to try to articulate the resentment my friend was concerned about, I think it might go something like this: "these white ladies have no idea what our lives are like, so it's not possible for them to lend a helping hand without judging us, trying to change us, and generally feeling superior to us. Therefore we don't want them around."
This reaction makes me think about Christianity (OK, a lot of things make me think about Christianity). Christians know that God in fact does judge us, wants us to change, and is superior to us. In the book of Job, God makes it pretty clear that He's unconcerned about our resentment (Start from chapter 38 and go from there. You'll get the idea). However, Jesus' incarnation seems to indicate God thought some empathy might be in order. Either that, or He was removing our last stupid excuse for not heeding His word: "you don't know what I'm going through, God. Your opinion doesn't count." Well, now He knows.
So where does that leave a group of white ladies working in an African-American community? Well, I don't think it's true that we have no idea what people's lives are like. We may not be in the same economic or social circumstances, but I think all of us have felt overwhelmed, oppressed, hopeless, unmotivated, and yes, resentful at some time in our lives. If we can offer the empathy that comes from knowing all of us need help sometimes, then perhaps we'll be doing more than just a good deed. We'll actually be furthering God's kingdom.
By the way, here's my favorite joke about empathy: never judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes. That way, when you judge him you'll be a mile away and you'll have his shoes!
What did you hear today?
3/16/2008
I heard a sermon on the prodigal son
Context
I'm in Dallas today, so I attended a worship service at King of Glory Lutheran Church. Pastor Jon Bustard preached on, among other things, the prodigal son story from Luke. The text and a recording of his sermon of the week usually get posted to the King of Glory website, but as of this writing, they're not up yet.
Commentary
I think Pastor Bustard preached a great sermon today. That's really saying something coming from me because I hate preaching. It's even more surprising because, being having been a Christian all my life, I've probably heard at least 25 prodigal son sermons. But this one actually made me think about a new aspect of the story, because Pastor Bustard was challenging us to be involved in God's recovery of the rest of His prodigal children, instead of just emphasizing how happy we are that God found us.
Rationalist that I am, if I'm going to be involved in solving a problem, I need to know what causes it. Pastor Bustard's sermon made clear to me that there are two reasons the prodigal son stays away from his father, and that both of those apply to people who stay away from church today:
1) Guilt. Late in the story, the prodigal son realizes what he's done wrong and is convinced his father will never want to take him back. Today, there are many people who think, "I can't go to church. Who I am and what I've done are too awful to be in the holy presence of God." This is not true, but I think as Christians we forget that. After all, how often do we seek out child molesters to join our congregation?
2) Lack of perceived need. This is the one that really stood out for me today. As I was saying to my husband, "you can't catch the prodigal son when he's received his inheritance and he's walking away." It's kind of like the first step in Alcoholics Anonymous: "we admitted we were powerless over alcohol — that our lives had become unmanageable." Only when one's life becomes unmanageable (like when one's out slopping pigs and starts wanting their food) does one really need Christ.
This second reason made me feel worried. If people I knew had that lack of perceived need for years and years and constantly told me how unnecessary religion was in their lives, would I get lulled into inaction and not be prepared or available when their need suddenly came up and punched them in the stomach? I hope not, and here are two ways I can think of to prevent it:
1) I can insulate them a little. When they lack a perceived need I can say things like, "I understand that this is not necessary in your life, but here's how grace works for me," kind of like programming 911 into their spiritual speed dial in case of emergency.
2) I can keep my eyes open. I can recognize that opportunities to bring back prodigals may be sudden and brief and be prepared for them at all times. In other words, I can stay awake and keep plenty of oil in my lamp.
What did you hear today?
I'm in Dallas today, so I attended a worship service at King of Glory Lutheran Church. Pastor Jon Bustard preached on, among other things, the prodigal son story from Luke. The text and a recording of his sermon of the week usually get posted to the King of Glory website, but as of this writing, they're not up yet.
Commentary
I think Pastor Bustard preached a great sermon today. That's really saying something coming from me because I hate preaching. It's even more surprising because, being having been a Christian all my life, I've probably heard at least 25 prodigal son sermons. But this one actually made me think about a new aspect of the story, because Pastor Bustard was challenging us to be involved in God's recovery of the rest of His prodigal children, instead of just emphasizing how happy we are that God found us.
Rationalist that I am, if I'm going to be involved in solving a problem, I need to know what causes it. Pastor Bustard's sermon made clear to me that there are two reasons the prodigal son stays away from his father, and that both of those apply to people who stay away from church today:
1) Guilt. Late in the story, the prodigal son realizes what he's done wrong and is convinced his father will never want to take him back. Today, there are many people who think, "I can't go to church. Who I am and what I've done are too awful to be in the holy presence of God." This is not true, but I think as Christians we forget that. After all, how often do we seek out child molesters to join our congregation?
2) Lack of perceived need. This is the one that really stood out for me today. As I was saying to my husband, "you can't catch the prodigal son when he's received his inheritance and he's walking away." It's kind of like the first step in Alcoholics Anonymous: "we admitted we were powerless over alcohol — that our lives had become unmanageable." Only when one's life becomes unmanageable (like when one's out slopping pigs and starts wanting their food) does one really need Christ.
This second reason made me feel worried. If people I knew had that lack of perceived need for years and years and constantly told me how unnecessary religion was in their lives, would I get lulled into inaction and not be prepared or available when their need suddenly came up and punched them in the stomach? I hope not, and here are two ways I can think of to prevent it:
1) I can insulate them a little. When they lack a perceived need I can say things like, "I understand that this is not necessary in your life, but here's how grace works for me," kind of like programming 911 into their spiritual speed dial in case of emergency.
2) I can keep my eyes open. I can recognize that opportunities to bring back prodigals may be sudden and brief and be prepared for them at all times. In other words, I can stay awake and keep plenty of oil in my lamp.
What did you hear today?
4/29/2007
I saw the hedge around my alma mater.
Context
I’m in Houston today, so I visited the Rice University campus, which is right across the street from the Texas Medical Center. Rice has a wholly contiguous campus that is surrounded by a hedge. The hedge is not physically imposing enough to prevent anyone or anything from coming on campus, but it does clearly delineate the borders.
I graduated from Rice twenty years ago, so of course I see changes whenever I go back and visit. For example, sometime after my departure the Texas Medical Center built a really ugly building just beyond the Rice hedge.
Commentary
I was planning to go to church this morning, but instead I was moved to visit Rice. As I was walking around trying to figure out what drew me there, I saw this much-taller-than-everything-around-it, windowless building and was somewhat afraid that it might be on the campus itself. But no, as I got closer I realized that my beloved hedge was standing guard, keeping me from having to think that some of my alumni giving might have contributed to this monstrosity. As I sat on a bench facing away from both the ugly Med Center building and the hedge I started thinking about the protective aspects of communities.
Rice is an interesting place to go to school. It's an academically challenging but close-knit community. For four years Rice gathers people together and tells them that inside the hedges, it’s safe to be smart and obsessive and all-around different from the norm. In spite of the fact that the hedge is a puny little thing, I still felt shielded there.
It’s not just a shield, though. During those four years (or five or six or whatever) Rice tries to prepare you to go out in the world and accomplish something, not only by making you smarter, but by giving you the emotional tools to answer some of the crap the world throws at you. Four years of being told it’s great to be a nerd makes you likely to continue to believe it even twenty, thirty and forty years later.
I am blessed that I continue to have two communities that work the same way for me even today. My marriage is one. People get and stay married for any of number of reasons, but both my husband and I have come to treasure the refuge aspect of our relationship. We feel like we really can go out and do battle with all the problems of this world because we know someone will love us at the end of the day. Or sometimes in the middle, when we really want to scream! At its best, our marriage is not a hiding place, but a place where we can both rest and be reassured that we are capable of facing the next challenge to come.
My Quaker meeting is another such community. We're a pretty heterogeneous group in terms of religious beliefs and values, but we hold sacred the idea that everyone should be safe at the meeting. Not unchallenged, not coddled, but safe. It's a place where a person may hear a hundred times, "that's different from my experience," but will never hear, "you're wrong to think that way." So we get to examine the Spirit of God within us in an atmosphere that celebrates that Spirit and inspires us to go share it with the rest of the world.
I think everyone would benefit from belonging to these types of communities and I'd like to give you some advice about finding and/or building your own. Unfortunately, I can't. As far as I can tell, I came to both of these communities by the grace of God. So instead I'll pray that God provides you with the gift of a supportive community as well. I'll also invite you to come to our Quaker meeting at 10:00 a.m. Saturday mornings at Charlie Cook's Art Studio, 3500 Texas Blvd., Texarkana, TX. My marriage is not accepting any new members at this time.
What did you see today?
I’m in Houston today, so I visited the Rice University campus, which is right across the street from the Texas Medical Center. Rice has a wholly contiguous campus that is surrounded by a hedge. The hedge is not physically imposing enough to prevent anyone or anything from coming on campus, but it does clearly delineate the borders.
I graduated from Rice twenty years ago, so of course I see changes whenever I go back and visit. For example, sometime after my departure the Texas Medical Center built a really ugly building just beyond the Rice hedge.
Commentary
I was planning to go to church this morning, but instead I was moved to visit Rice. As I was walking around trying to figure out what drew me there, I saw this much-taller-than-everything-around-it, windowless building and was somewhat afraid that it might be on the campus itself. But no, as I got closer I realized that my beloved hedge was standing guard, keeping me from having to think that some of my alumni giving might have contributed to this monstrosity. As I sat on a bench facing away from both the ugly Med Center building and the hedge I started thinking about the protective aspects of communities.
Rice is an interesting place to go to school. It's an academically challenging but close-knit community. For four years Rice gathers people together and tells them that inside the hedges, it’s safe to be smart and obsessive and all-around different from the norm. In spite of the fact that the hedge is a puny little thing, I still felt shielded there.
It’s not just a shield, though. During those four years (or five or six or whatever) Rice tries to prepare you to go out in the world and accomplish something, not only by making you smarter, but by giving you the emotional tools to answer some of the crap the world throws at you. Four years of being told it’s great to be a nerd makes you likely to continue to believe it even twenty, thirty and forty years later.
I am blessed that I continue to have two communities that work the same way for me even today. My marriage is one. People get and stay married for any of number of reasons, but both my husband and I have come to treasure the refuge aspect of our relationship. We feel like we really can go out and do battle with all the problems of this world because we know someone will love us at the end of the day. Or sometimes in the middle, when we really want to scream! At its best, our marriage is not a hiding place, but a place where we can both rest and be reassured that we are capable of facing the next challenge to come.
My Quaker meeting is another such community. We're a pretty heterogeneous group in terms of religious beliefs and values, but we hold sacred the idea that everyone should be safe at the meeting. Not unchallenged, not coddled, but safe. It's a place where a person may hear a hundred times, "that's different from my experience," but will never hear, "you're wrong to think that way." So we get to examine the Spirit of God within us in an atmosphere that celebrates that Spirit and inspires us to go share it with the rest of the world.
I think everyone would benefit from belonging to these types of communities and I'd like to give you some advice about finding and/or building your own. Unfortunately, I can't. As far as I can tell, I came to both of these communities by the grace of God. So instead I'll pray that God provides you with the gift of a supportive community as well. I'll also invite you to come to our Quaker meeting at 10:00 a.m. Saturday mornings at Charlie Cook's Art Studio, 3500 Texas Blvd., Texarkana, TX. My marriage is not accepting any new members at this time.
What did you see today?
1/21/2007
I heard someone talk about competition
Context
I teach high school Sunday School at my husband's church. Frequently I'll have no students, so I'll spend the time talking with other members of the church. Today, as we were discussing the war in Iraq, one of them said something like this: "I don't really know the differences between Sunnis and Shi'ites, but I know the main problem is they don't want to be equal. They each want us to take their side."
Commentary
As is true of most of the people at First Lutheran, the man I was talking to is both older and more conservative than me. However, in this particular case I agreed with him. I told him, "I think you're right, but that's true of everybody. Everybody wants to be ahead of everyone else."
I think that competitiveness is both normal and healthy. I think that makes me unusual among pacifists, because there's a tendency to think that competition leads to strife, and that's what we're trying to avoid. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I believe there are ways to be competitive without being violent toward your fellow human being. I'm going to use some examples from the National Football League to illustrate my point, because that's the competition I'm paying the most attention to as we head into the conference championships.
One problem with competitiveness that seems to prey especially on the minds of parents of small children is the possibility that being defeated in a contest will damage one's self-esteeem. I think this happens when we expand our analysis of a competition's outcome beyond reasonable limits.
For example, this is a true statement: "The New England Patriots defeated the San Diego Chargers in a divisional playoff game last week."
This one might be true as well: "Over a span of 60 minutes last week, the New England Patriots were a better football team than the San Diego Chargers."
However, none of these are true:
1) "The New England Patriots are morally superior to the San Diego Chargers."
2) "Each individual member of the New England Patriots is more manly than each individual member of the San Diego Chargers."
or even
3) "The New England Patriots will always beat the San Diego Chargers every time they play."
Each win or loss in a competitive event is related to that event only and should not be treated as giving insight into other aspect of life. No little girl should ever be led to think that if a ball gets past her into a soccer net that it means she'll never have any success at anything. For that matter no 26-year-old quarterback should feel that way either.
OK, that's how we keep competition from being negative, how do we make it positive? Well, the narrow focus can also be beneficial in our search for identity, something psychologists tell us starts in adolescence, but I think stays with us as long as we grow as people. In fact, this is a context where, although winning is great, losing may provide more valuable lessons.
For example, at Indiana University, Antwaan Randle El was a quarterback. However, in the NFL he lost that competition to guys who were, quite frankly, better quarterbacks. Now he's not only one of the best receivers in the NFL, but occasionally scares defenses to death with the prospect that he'll drop back and throw the ball instead of catching it. So let's review:
True statement: Antwaan Randle El is not as good at the quarterback positions as some other guys are.
False statements: "Antwaan Randle El can't play professional football." "Antwaan Randle El can't scare the defense." Or even, "Antwaan Randle El will never throw a pass in the NFL," because he's already thrown several.
Antwaan Randle El's identity, at least at his day job, is defined differently from what he might have expected. But it's still a great identity, and it's all his because very few people pose the same multiple threat he does. Competition can do that for you, whittle down the "what you're good at, what you're not good at, what you can learn more about, what you'd just as soon not bother with" stuff until you're the perfect little sculpture God meant you to be.
So go out there and compete! Celebrate your wins, learn from your losses, and remember that the bigger picture is both big and constantly changing.
What did you see today?
I teach high school Sunday School at my husband's church. Frequently I'll have no students, so I'll spend the time talking with other members of the church. Today, as we were discussing the war in Iraq, one of them said something like this: "I don't really know the differences between Sunnis and Shi'ites, but I know the main problem is they don't want to be equal. They each want us to take their side."
Commentary
As is true of most of the people at First Lutheran, the man I was talking to is both older and more conservative than me. However, in this particular case I agreed with him. I told him, "I think you're right, but that's true of everybody. Everybody wants to be ahead of everyone else."
I think that competitiveness is both normal and healthy. I think that makes me unusual among pacifists, because there's a tendency to think that competition leads to strife, and that's what we're trying to avoid. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I believe there are ways to be competitive without being violent toward your fellow human being. I'm going to use some examples from the National Football League to illustrate my point, because that's the competition I'm paying the most attention to as we head into the conference championships.
One problem with competitiveness that seems to prey especially on the minds of parents of small children is the possibility that being defeated in a contest will damage one's self-esteeem. I think this happens when we expand our analysis of a competition's outcome beyond reasonable limits.
For example, this is a true statement: "The New England Patriots defeated the San Diego Chargers in a divisional playoff game last week."
This one might be true as well: "Over a span of 60 minutes last week, the New England Patriots were a better football team than the San Diego Chargers."
However, none of these are true:
1) "The New England Patriots are morally superior to the San Diego Chargers."
2) "Each individual member of the New England Patriots is more manly than each individual member of the San Diego Chargers."
or even
3) "The New England Patriots will always beat the San Diego Chargers every time they play."
Each win or loss in a competitive event is related to that event only and should not be treated as giving insight into other aspect of life. No little girl should ever be led to think that if a ball gets past her into a soccer net that it means she'll never have any success at anything. For that matter no 26-year-old quarterback should feel that way either.
OK, that's how we keep competition from being negative, how do we make it positive? Well, the narrow focus can also be beneficial in our search for identity, something psychologists tell us starts in adolescence, but I think stays with us as long as we grow as people. In fact, this is a context where, although winning is great, losing may provide more valuable lessons.
For example, at Indiana University, Antwaan Randle El was a quarterback. However, in the NFL he lost that competition to guys who were, quite frankly, better quarterbacks. Now he's not only one of the best receivers in the NFL, but occasionally scares defenses to death with the prospect that he'll drop back and throw the ball instead of catching it. So let's review:
True statement: Antwaan Randle El is not as good at the quarterback positions as some other guys are.
False statements: "Antwaan Randle El can't play professional football." "Antwaan Randle El can't scare the defense." Or even, "Antwaan Randle El will never throw a pass in the NFL," because he's already thrown several.
Antwaan Randle El's identity, at least at his day job, is defined differently from what he might have expected. But it's still a great identity, and it's all his because very few people pose the same multiple threat he does. Competition can do that for you, whittle down the "what you're good at, what you're not good at, what you can learn more about, what you'd just as soon not bother with" stuff until you're the perfect little sculpture God meant you to be.
So go out there and compete! Celebrate your wins, learn from your losses, and remember that the bigger picture is both big and constantly changing.
What did you see today?
1/15/2006
I saw that everyone needs God’s Word, just in different ways.
Context
I’m reading the Gospel of Luke these days for a couple of reasons. One of them is, given the fact that Luke was a physician, it can be argued that Luke is the gospel for smart people. John could probably give Luke a run for his money, but he’s not who I’m reading right now.
When Luke talks about the devil’s first temptation, he only quotes Jesus as saying, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’” Luke 4:4 NRSV. For you Matthew fans out there, that means Luke skips the part about “but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” Matthew 4:4b NRSV.
Even though I'm a member of the Religious Society of Friends, I teach Sunday School at my husband’s church, First Evangelical Lutheran. I missed Friends’ worship yesterday, so I decided to attend worship at First as well.
Commentary
I’m wondering if the reason Luke doesn’t include the “every word that comes from the mouth of God” part is because he expects a smart person to figure out what else we need to live. I already know the Matthian version of the story, so I don’t have to figure it out if I don’t want to, but sometimes it’s interesting to work with a passage of the Bible to see if you come to the same conclusion the writers did.
As a person who’s concerned about poverty (not that I do much about it, but I am concerned), the “man does not live by bread alone” idea troubles me. When it comes to missionary work, it seems to me that you need to feed people before you can preach the gospel. And yet, I don't behave as if that's true. My strongest missionary support goes to Lutheran Bible Translators. Partly that’s because my husband and I have a personal connection to one of the families working in Botswana, the Megahans. I don’t think that’s everything, though. Part of me just can’t help but think that no matter how bad off you are materially, your life will be better if you can experience the Bible in your native tongue.
My experience at First today led me to believe that definition of “native tongue” can be stretched pretty far. When I want to be, I can be a pretty focused person. Twice today, I was reading or considering material for future Sunday School classes and people interrupted me. In both cases, the people in question didn’t just say, “hi!”; they made it seem that it was odd for me to be concentrating so hard. I was annoyed; I don’t come to church to be social (I don’t do much of anything to be social); I come to church to learn and teach the Word of God. I started thinking, “maybe that’s what Luke’s talking about. Besides bread, I need the Word of God. These ladies need fellowship.”
But what if fellowship is these ladies “native tongue?” Can fellowship teach us the Word of God? Do we need to share with each other what God is doing in our lives and what we wish God would do? If not, why do I have this blog, anyway?
One more story: as I was thinking about these matters after the worship service had ended, a little girl I know walked around the corner looking upset. When I asked why, she said she was sad because she didn’t get to take anything home from church. I won’t get into the long story of why she thought she should get something to take home every week, as I’m not sure I understand it myself. Anyway, after a while I handed her my bulletin, and told her, “I get to take one of these home every week. It has lots of words in it [the little girl in question can read, but she’s not going to be plowing through the book of Job any time soon], but it also has a picture. That picture will always tell you something about God. In fact, this whole bulletin is about the Word of God. Every week, you can take home the Word of God from church, and no one will tell you ‘no.’” I also told her that she could carry the love of every person in the congregation home with her which, as John will tell you, is a great way of knowing the Word of God. Hey, maybe his is the gospel for smart people!
I’m reading the Gospel of Luke these days for a couple of reasons. One of them is, given the fact that Luke was a physician, it can be argued that Luke is the gospel for smart people. John could probably give Luke a run for his money, but he’s not who I’m reading right now.
When Luke talks about the devil’s first temptation, he only quotes Jesus as saying, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’” Luke 4:4 NRSV. For you Matthew fans out there, that means Luke skips the part about “but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” Matthew 4:4b NRSV.
Even though I'm a member of the Religious Society of Friends, I teach Sunday School at my husband’s church, First Evangelical Lutheran. I missed Friends’ worship yesterday, so I decided to attend worship at First as well.
Commentary
I’m wondering if the reason Luke doesn’t include the “every word that comes from the mouth of God” part is because he expects a smart person to figure out what else we need to live. I already know the Matthian version of the story, so I don’t have to figure it out if I don’t want to, but sometimes it’s interesting to work with a passage of the Bible to see if you come to the same conclusion the writers did.
As a person who’s concerned about poverty (not that I do much about it, but I am concerned), the “man does not live by bread alone” idea troubles me. When it comes to missionary work, it seems to me that you need to feed people before you can preach the gospel. And yet, I don't behave as if that's true. My strongest missionary support goes to Lutheran Bible Translators. Partly that’s because my husband and I have a personal connection to one of the families working in Botswana, the Megahans. I don’t think that’s everything, though. Part of me just can’t help but think that no matter how bad off you are materially, your life will be better if you can experience the Bible in your native tongue.
My experience at First today led me to believe that definition of “native tongue” can be stretched pretty far. When I want to be, I can be a pretty focused person. Twice today, I was reading or considering material for future Sunday School classes and people interrupted me. In both cases, the people in question didn’t just say, “hi!”; they made it seem that it was odd for me to be concentrating so hard. I was annoyed; I don’t come to church to be social (I don’t do much of anything to be social); I come to church to learn and teach the Word of God. I started thinking, “maybe that’s what Luke’s talking about. Besides bread, I need the Word of God. These ladies need fellowship.”
But what if fellowship is these ladies “native tongue?” Can fellowship teach us the Word of God? Do we need to share with each other what God is doing in our lives and what we wish God would do? If not, why do I have this blog, anyway?
One more story: as I was thinking about these matters after the worship service had ended, a little girl I know walked around the corner looking upset. When I asked why, she said she was sad because she didn’t get to take anything home from church. I won’t get into the long story of why she thought she should get something to take home every week, as I’m not sure I understand it myself. Anyway, after a while I handed her my bulletin, and told her, “I get to take one of these home every week. It has lots of words in it [the little girl in question can read, but she’s not going to be plowing through the book of Job any time soon], but it also has a picture. That picture will always tell you something about God. In fact, this whole bulletin is about the Word of God. Every week, you can take home the Word of God from church, and no one will tell you ‘no.’” I also told her that she could carry the love of every person in the congregation home with her which, as John will tell you, is a great way of knowing the Word of God. Hey, maybe his is the gospel for smart people!
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