From the sermon cutting floor

So, I collect all manner of scraps and threads when I'm writing a sermon, but I never can use all of them. And I just can't stand to throw them away! Here are a few from this week, late on a Sabbath Eve:

Tony Campolo, a well-known author and speaker, said once in a sermon: “Frankly, the argument against believing in God or against placing one’s trust in Jesus is every bit as persuasive as the argument for it. So I chose to choose to believe and trust. And that choice has made all the difference.”


Nicholas of Cusa, a dialogue between a Christian and "a Gentile" (or nonbeliever), circa 1444:
—translated by William F. Wertz, Jr..

Gentile: I wish to know, who are you?
Christian: I am a Christian.
Gentile: Whom do you adore?
Christian: God.
G: Who is the God, whom you adore?
C: I do not know.
G: How can you so earnestly adore, what you do not know?
C: Because I do not know, I adore.

In Iowa

Adam and I are in Iowa for Thanksgiving, with his family. We're having a slow, quiet day, waiting for the festivities to rev up.

I decided to talk a walk this afternoon, to loosen up my legs and look around the neighborhood. Adam's parents live on a road of farms and homes on big tracts of land. The local government is building a new sewer line out here, so there are huge mountains of dirt, big earth-moving machines, and lots of trucks around.

As I was walking of of those dump trucks drove by, and the driver waved. A big wave! So I waved back.

And then another truck drove by. And that driver waved, too. So I waved again.

And then began a slow parade of never-ending, jovial, friendly truck drivers. Some waved, but not all -- but something in me felt like I should wave to all of them. That it was my neighborly obligation. And I began to feel a little stressed out.

I finally turned around and came back. The city-girl just couldn't handle it.

Advent Conspiracy

This is pretty cool. You know the usual, "Jesus is the reason for the season" stuff. This takes it a little deeper (and it's a well-designed and edited video, too).

And who doesn't want to join a CONSPIRACY?

Economic crisis and personal morality

An article from slate.com that I thought I'd share.
Don't get depressed, It's not 1929

Here's my favorite quote:
Instead of workers with 5 o'clock shadows asking, "Brother, can you spare a dime?" we have clean-shaven financial-services executives asking congressmen if they can spare $100 billion.

It's true; there are many differences between this economic crisis and that one 80 years ago. And yet I think the commonality that has so many of us looking back to the 1930s is the sense of the unknown -- the failure of institutions that we didn't think could fail. And now gas prices have plummeted. It's just weird. It feels like something more is happening than just a plan ol' little recession. Time will tell.

Regardless, many clergy I know are saying that the crisis has motivated them to focus their churches on the things that are really important in our lives -- family, God's love, service to the needy. I have preached that, too. People are responding to that message; it's hitting home for most of us right now.

But sometimes I romanticize the Great Depression, because there are so many wonderful stories along the lines of: "we didn't have much, but we had each other!" Or stories and statistics I've heard about the genuine joy and happiness of people in third world countries, even though they live with dirt floors and water an hour's walk away. Does poverty make human beings better, more moral, and happier people? Christianity would say no: the potential to sin is always present in us, we are human.

This is also a quote from the slate article:
...wealthy Treasury secretary, Andrew Mellon, saw the downturn as a force for good ... "People will work harder, live more moral lives."

Eek. Easy for Andrew Mellon to say! He was one of the four richest people in America in his time.

But I sometimes long for a community where people are interconnected and share what they have, where we can find enough in very little. I think of the early Christian communities. (Acts 2):
42They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. 43Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. 44All the believers were together and had everything in common. 45Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. 46Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, 47praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

But am I being simplistic? How does the coziness and simplicity of small, interdependent (closed?) communities (large interdependent communities, in my opinion = communism, which is beyond the scope of this blog post) compare with the freedom, creativity, and fertility of relative wealthy communities? Education, communication, pluralism, ease of travel...does it makes us better citizens of the whole world, and not just our immediate communities? (To say nothing of our ample food, sturdy shelter, clean accessible water, health care...) Am I saying the community of Acts 2 was provincial and judgmental of the outside world? Well, the Bible can be pretty judgmental of nonbelievers or those who don't conform to the immediate community. (Ananias and Sapphira, the insular Johannine community, Matthew's sheep and goats, routing out the original inhabitants of Canaan...)

I don't know. I'm still sorting it out.

Gratitude and thanksgiving

We studied these verses as our devotional at the bishop's committee meeting last night. (That's what we call our church board, as a mission parish in the Episcopal Church.)

“If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is ‘Thank you,’ it will be enough.”
- Meister Eckhart (Dominican monk and mystic, 13th century)

(2 translations of 1 Thessalonians):
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.
- St. Paul, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, New Revised Standard Version

Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.
- St. Paul, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, The Message (Eugene Peterson)


People has some interesting reflections. One of us said "Thank you" didn't seem like enough -- she talks to God about everything. Other didn't like Peterson's translation of "rejoice" as "be cheerful." It sounded superficial, like "Keep smiling."

The whole idea of giving thanks can start to seem trite around Thanksgiving. It can be a Pollyanna exercise, or a list-making, or something that shuts down our valid feelings of grief, anger, or fear. And yet, it's a pretty powerful spiritual discipline to try to find something to thank God for in all circumstances. As one person said in our meeting, it's a discipline that opens you up to God's presence, instead of closing you up in despair or anger. "Giving thanks in all circumstances," while not always easy, might actually make our lives better.

But the wording: "thanking God no matter what happens" sounds more like a directive or a forcing of gratitude. And spiritual disciplines can never be like self-punishment and be effective. Sorry Eugene -- so often I find your translations to open up God's word, but here I think they close it in.

Daily rituals

Sometimes I wake up early enough that I see a man who lives across the street from us on his balcony. It's always at about 7am. He stands on his little balcony with his coffee cup, looking out at the morning. After a few minutes, he goes back inside. Sometimes Adam and I make coffee in the morning, mostly lately, we don't. Sometimes I wake up at 6:30am, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I pray, sometimes I read the daily office, mostly I don't.

Since moving to Bolingbrook, I haven't quite settled on a morning routine. So many things have changed for me this year (moving, a new job, ordination, getting married, and moving again) that finding something that looks like "normal" or "routine" has been the journey of the year for me. And then the wireless internet in our apartment tempts me away from things like prayer to things like blogging, Facebook, checking email, and reading news sites.

I'm reading Kathleen Norris' new book Acedia & me: A marriage, monks, and a writer's life. I've been meaning to read it for weeks, and finally a blog post by my friend, Tripp, pushed me to actually go and pick up a copy. In the second chapter, Norris talks about the repetition of daily activities as a form of self-respect. Things like brushing your teeth, wiping down the kitchen counter, taking a walk, and taking a shower "enhance the ability to take pleasure in oneself, and in the world." In other words, they can be ways to "pray without ceasing," as Paul tells (1 Thess. 5:17). I like that.

But does Facebook do that, too? I'm not exactly sure.

I think I'll go take a shower.

another quote I like

“Prayer doesn’t change God, it changes me.”

- C.S. Lewis in the movie "Shadowlands" (not sure it's really in any of his books?)

a new president

I find it hard to blog about huge events: Easter, my wedding, and presidential elections, among other things. It's easier for me to post photos than to try and reflect on meaning or "what happened."

But I have no photos to post about election night, which blew me away. Nothing seemed cliche -- red states going blue, McCain's concession speech, Grant Park bursting at the seams, Obama's acceptance speech. I admired McCain's choice to talk about race and American history, and his evident deep emotion and personal responsibility for his campaign. He was solid and collected, and perhaps too hard on himself.

I cried, because I can't believe after centuries of American racism -- the conscious or subconscious belief that black people belong at the financial or emotional bottom of our society -- a black person is our president.

I will be frank and say that I voted for Barack Obama. I think he is a truly gifted leader, a phenomenal orator, and a visionary realist. But I am somewhat apprehensive for his presidency. I'm afraid so much hope could easily be disappointed. I'm afraid for his personal safety, as a black man in the most powerful position in the world. I'm afraid that a Democratic presidency and Congress could make a lot of rash and bully-pulpit decisions.

But I hope that Obama's history of calm and grounded responses in the midst of crisis, his amazing skill for oratory and communication, and his choice to jump right into to choosing his presidential advisors and staff show his commitment... and somehow, a lack of self-centeredness, in my eyes. I haven't seen much back-slapping or triumphalism this week.

It's also sort of amazing to have a president who is from my neighborhood of Hyde Park and the South Side of Chicago, who is part of my generation, and who spent so much time at the university that shaped a big chunk of my life -- the University of Chicago. He's an intellectual! We haven't had an intellectual president since... the early 19th century???

I hope we have just elected a president who cares more about this country than he cares about his own fame or power. That may be naive idealism, but I feel like we have someone who does his homework, who cares about history and the constitution (his specialty at U of C law school), and who doesn't bask in the light of his own power. He and our government will remain in my prayers.