Pub Theology Topics April 19

A nice, low-key evening at the pub last night.  In the cask was the Aztec Gold, a porter with chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla, and chipotle…  a spicy delicious combination.

We had some good conversations on the topics below:

1.    If the church is to have a future it must:
___________________________________.

2.    Without proper structures life will never grow.  Faith, naturally intuitive, cannot grow without a proper use of logic (structure).  Where there are lapses of faith, there are broken structures of logic.  Faith stretches our logic, and logic should create a space to experience our faith.

3.    “I relax and enjoy life.  I know that whatever I need to know is revealed to me in the perfect time and space sequence.”

4.    This offends me: _________________________.

5.  Humanism or atheism is a wonderful philosophy of life as long as you are big, strong, and between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five. But watch out if you are in a lifeboat and there are others who are younger, bigger, or smarter.

The first topic was in light of Andrew Sullivan’s recent article in Newsweek about the crisis in Christianity.

What do you think?  Is the church in trouble?  What must it do going forward?

I have to say that I highly enjoyed a couple of response pieces:

Diana Butler Bass:  A Resurrected Christianity?

and

Scott Paeth:  The Power of the Powerless

Thanks to Tony Jones for pointing out those responses.  He has more on his blog:  Theoblogy:  What Crisis in Christianity?!?

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A Spoonful of Sugar

“A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, helps the medicine go down…”

A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.

Tonight we watched Mary Poppins with the kids.

Hadn’t seen it in ages – it’s still a classic.

The storyline is that Mary shows up, dropping out of the sky, as a nanny for two sad and unruly British children, and she is simply magical.

They have adventures you wouldn’t believe if you hadn’t seem them (I recommend another viewing if you haven’t seen it lately).

Great things happen in their lives, and things change for the better.

But the wind changes, too soon it seems, and Mary must go.

The children, sad as they are, realize her time with them is up.

It’s a delightful story, with a hint of sadness at the end because their magical times together are at an end.

Yet the real magic is that she can leave, and that those she touched are now different, and she, too, is different for having been touched in return.

This morning I announced to our community that the wind has changed.

We are being blown east.  Heading from TC to DC.  (more on this later)

It was not an easy thing to share, as the times we’ve had have been magical, and if I hadn’t been here, I’m not sure I would believe it.

I had never expected to compare myself to Mary Poppins, and so I won’t.  The truth is, we were the unruly children, and those in our community were as Poppins to us.  They touched us, and we have been changed.  We hope that in some small way, the touch was returned.

The winds are blowing…  Soon enough we shall head off in another direction.

But the real magic is that we can leave, and, in leaving, know that we all are different for having had the time together, even as new adventures await.

Anyone have some sugar?

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Pub Theology Topics April 12

A good group at the ol’ pub last night.  The Firestarter Chipotle Porter was quite enjoyable, as was the conversation…  Did you miss it?

Here were the topics:  (it was a full sheet!)

1.    What is your favorite day of the week?

2.    How do you nourish yourself spiritually?
What is a spiritual experience?

3.    What does the church look like at its best?
At its worst?

4.    ”There is a time when it is right to explore many religions.  One often has to do this in order to find what grasps one at a level deep enough to permit at least initial commitments to be made.  But those who stay merely students of religion into middle age become dreary.  They know facts and doctrines, and laws and rites, but they know nothing of Mystery.”  Thoughts?

5.    Is there a difference between respect for a person and respect for his/her ideas?
Are we what we stand for?

6.  Resurrection:  literal, mythical, mystical?

7. Should everyone be allowed to ‘stand their ground’ ?
Is the right to bear arms a ‘God-given’ right?

8. Does the separation of church and state mean churches should be silent on issues of justice?

9. What role does the state have in determining whether or not people have healthcare?

10.  ”we allow ourselves to believe in a sovereign god not because we really believe in a sovereign god, but because (much like western politics) we need to somehow justify our need to be power-dominating people who quite literally ‘lord’ ourselves over other people…”   Anyone agree?

11. Some religions emphasize the endless cycles of history (Hinduism) where an individual seeks to eventually merge into oneness with universe.   The Christian religion is linear, envisioning a culmination in the return of Christ – an escape from the cycles of history.   Is our culture inclined toward the linear model for some reason or is it just chance that we are a predominantly Christian society?

- – -
Love to hear some thoughts on any of the above.  Post below! 

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I Need the Resurrection

Four echoes of Resurrection hope

Read during Easter worship at Watershed, 2012

I need the Resurrection
*
because my sister is sick
and can’t afford insurance,
because I’ve told a weeping Haitian mom,
“No, I can’t take your son home with me.”
because I’ve been rushed off a Jerusalem street
so the police could blow up a package that could’ve blown up us.
Because I’ve exploded
in rage
and watched their tiny faces cloud with hurt.
because evil is pervasive
and I participate.
I need the Resurrection
because it promises
that in the end
all wrongs are made right.
Death loses.
Hope triumphs.
And Life and
Love
Prevail.

 

I need the Resurrection

because I’m tired and worn
the hours are long, the pay not enough
the second job barely covers the costs
for the kids to eat
the rent to be paid;
because life throws you some pitches
that you just can’t hit.
Because she left, and
I stayed.
Because some days a good cup of coffee
just isn’t enough.
Because I’m tired. . .
I need the Resurrection
because night gives way to morning,
darkness. . . to light
and because one day: all things will be new.



I need the Resurrection

because this life is so wonderful
despite its fragility;
the softness of dew on the morning grass
The house quiet while all are yet asleep
The promise of a new day.
Because each day comes and goes
And so many have now gone too.
I need the Resurrection
because I want one more day
with those who have already
Gone to sleep.
One more hello
One more long afternoon on the front porch
Telling stories

I’ve heard so many times
But long to hear again.
I need the Resurrection
because the story must not end.

I need the Resurrection

Because life has never
been as it should be
for me
or, I guess, for you.
I’ve never seen a rainbow
Or a lily. . .
a mountain, or a tree.
Yet these ideas are more
than just ideas,
and one day, I shall see.
I need the Resurrection
Because I long to touch, and feel, and smell
and wonder over
forever… this
Clean earth… which has been sullied.
One day, renewed.
And one day, as I use my senses
to drink deeply of all that is,
I shall see that Creation
Crowned, with a King.

*first story courtesy of Kara Root, pastor of Lake Nokomis Presbyterian Church in Minneapolis, Minnesota 

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I Was A Slave (Wasn’t I?)

All Jews were once slaves in Egypt, whether history proves it or not

Despite being a historian, I have not let the lack of evidence distance me from the Passover message.

By Arie Hasit / Jewish World blogger / haaretz.com

“In every generation, a person must see himself as if he personally left Egypt.” With these words, we begin to wrap up the “telling” portion of the Passover seder, having already extensively quoted the rabbis and their understandings of the exodus from Egypt.

When I was younger I had an easy time imagining myself as part of the exodus, thanks to art and bibliodrama. I had images of the slaves, images of the ten plagues, and a strong belief that all of those really happened. As a child, my imagination ran free, and I had no trouble being part of a very real story.

As I grew older and, admittedly, more skeptical, I began to doubt different aspects of the Passover story. After hearing about scientific explanations for the plagues and the splitting of the sea, I suddenly had much more trouble placing myself in this dubious story.

But, ironically, what could have been the largest blow to my ability to see myself as if I left Egypt has in fact allowed me to follow the command of the Passover seder more than ever. Around the time that I graduated from high school, I read about a sermon by Rabbi David Wolpe in which he questioned the historical veracity of the exodus from Egypt. The sermon caused quite the uproar in my circles, given the centrality of the exodus to so much of Judaism. But for me, it was merely unleavened food for thought.

No matter what I want to believe (and I want to believe that all of this happened), I am inclined to doubt that there was in fact an historical exodus by the people of Israel from Egypt. Perhaps it’s my background as a student and teacher of history, but without any external evidence or confirmation, I just cannot believe it happened.

However, rather than subduing my ability to relate to Passover, this lack of historical proof actually allows me to heighten my relatedness.

Whether or not there was an exodus 3,200 years ago, one thing is certain: for the past 2,000 years, our tradition has commanded us to posit this exodus from Egypt, historic or otherwise, at the center of our faith through a night of telling its story. What connects us to our past is not the historicity of the exodus, rather the way we give the story such importance. According to this tradition, we cannot be Jews if we cannot understand the experience of slavery and at the same time the experience of redemption.

So what does it mean to see ourselves as if we personally left Egypt? First and foremost, it means forcing ourselves to empathize with slaves. It forces us to think of that which enslaves us in our day- be it our jobs, technology, or the personal demons that we each battle in our own way.

Secondly, we are forced to confront what it means to be released from slavery. Our sages used their imaginations and the Torah—creating midrashim about the number of plagues God dealt the Egyptians with each finger. Yet there is no doubt that they were also imagining what they needed to do to escape the oppression of the Romans, against whom many rabbis were fighting for their independence. As we tell the story of God’s wonders in Egypt, we must think for ourselves what we must to do to feel free.

Finally, in order to truly identify with the exodus from Egypt, we must understand how we have been (and continue to be) freed. The Jewish redemption from slavery meant the ability to serve God instead of Pharaoh. Our freedom from slavery does not mean freedom from acting on behalf others, but rather it means the ability to choose how we will serve others.

On this Passover, as on every one before, I will decide not to be a slave, but to pick for myself how to serve myself, how to serve my loved ones, and how to serve God. This past year, I have been a slave, but soon, I will be free.

Arie Hasit is an educator at Ramah Programs in Israel and is beginning the Israeli bet midrash program at the Schechter institute. The views expressed in this article are the author’s alone.

        This story is by:

Arie Hasit

      / Jewish World blogger

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Up There

Some Thoughts on Belief

There’s been a lot of talk lately at the pub and in the press about faith and belief.  An apocryphal story has been told that says something very profound about the nature of belief in our society.

The story is told of Yuri Gagarin, the first Russian Cosmonaut and the first person to have gone into orbit and in outer space. When he came back to the earth, there was a reception for him in the Kremlin. During the course of the reception, Nikita Khrushchev, then the general secretary of the Communist Party and the head of state, slowly led him in the study and said, “Comrade Yuri, you are the first man to have gone into space. I want to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer from you. Out there in space, was there a heaven? Were there gates of pearl? Streets paved with gold? Angels? God? Did you see anything like that?”

Yuri became very grave in his face and said, “Comrade, I cannot tell you the lie. Unfortunately, there is a heaven. I saw the gates of pearl and the angels there.”

Khrushchev said, “Well comrade, this is what I always feared. But you know that you cannot say this to anybody else, because the Communist Party depends on NOT having heaven up there.”

Then he was taken on a world tour to further propagate this great achievement of the Russian State.

He also came to the Vatican, and he was given a reception in the Vatican and a private audience with the Pope.  The Pope also took him aside and asked, “Brother Yuri, you are the first one to have gone into outer space.  Now tell me, did you see a heaven and God and angels and Peter standing at the gates of pearl?”

Yuri was reminded of the warning given by Khrushchev, so he said, “Holy Father, I am so sorry to tell you but there is no such thing up there.” And the Pope said, “This is what I always feared. But you know you cannot talk about this outside.”

What might this story tell us about belief in our culture?

Mike Friesen recently asked on his blog, “How important is belief in God for Christians?”

He notes:

“Growing up in an Evangelical church, I thought that belief was the most important thing to Christian faith. We placed enormous emphasis on the Bible as the end-all-be-all of the Christian faith (unfortunately, we never developed real spiritual practices). And, as I get older, I find myself reading the bible more, loving the bible more, and caring about what the Bible says and what it means for not only my life, but for those around me. I find the authority in scripture. When I turned 16, I began having thoughts like: Do I believe in God? Or, do I believe in my pastors beliefs in God? Do I have my own answers? Or, do I have the answers of those around me?

Does one believe in God, if they just believe the teachings of their pastor? Maybe a better way is to say, by believing in the Christian religion, does religion believe for me? And, does what makes you a good Christian come from a checklist of beliefs?”


Marcus Borg notes that faith and belief have shifted in our culture over time.  (Below excerpt from: Reading the Bible Again for the First Time: A Thinking Person’s Guide to the Bible)

“The modern preoccupation with factuality has had a pervasive and distorting effect on how we see the Bible and Christianity.

Christianity in the modern period became preoccupied with the dynamic of believing or not believing. For many people, believing ‘iffy’ claims to be true became the central meaning of the Christian faith. It is an odd notion – as if what God wants from us is believing highly problematic statements to be factually true. And if one can’t believe them, then one doesn’t have faith and isn’t a Christian.

The thoroughly modern character of this notion of faith can be seen by comparing what faith meant in the Christian Middle Ages. During those centuries, basically everybody in the Christian culture thought the Bible to be true. They had no reason to think otherwise; the Bible’s stories from creation through the end of the world were part of the conventional wisdom of the time. Accepting them did not require ‘faith.’ Faith had to do with one’s relationship to God, not with whether one thought the Bible to be true.

For me, being Christian is not about believing in the Bible or about believing in Christianity. Rather, it is about a deepening relationship with the God to whom the Bible points, lived within the Christian tradition as a sacrament of the sacred.”

What do you think?  What does belief entail?   What role does it play in the life of faith?  Do you resonate with any of the thoughts and questions above?

Post your thoughts or comments below!

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STATION: Lectio

Sacred Reading

History

Lectio Divina is the Latin for ‘Holy Reading’ and was a form and approach to praying with Scripture that was common among medieval religious orders. The value of Lectio Divina was rediscovered in the twentieth century.

Essentially Lectio Divina involves taking a short passage of Scripture and pondering it. This can be done alone or in a group, and normally involves prolonged periods of silence.

 

Instructions

 

Choose a reader.  The reader will read the text through four times, slowly, with a time of silence between each reading.  Allow the words to wash over you.  Be present.  What is God saying to you right here and now?  Open yourself to His Words.

From the fourth chapter of the Gospel of John:

 

“Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep.  Where can you get this living water?”

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst.  Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water. . .”

» Previous Station: STILL

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