Gathering Voices: Faithful Conversations from The Thoughtful Christian

They Did It Themselves. . . With Help

A Gathering Voices Post by Beth Pyles

“There are approximately 43 million people that are on food stamps. This is a program that did not exist 100 years ago. People did survive without the assistance of government. They did it themselves, with help from family or local churches and groups.”   Fred Downing

Is it true that food stamp programs did not exist 100 years ago?  That in times past, people in the United States were more self reliant?  Is self reliance a virtue?  Or is it a harmful myth, with far-reaching implications in our lives together, as citizens and as people of faith?

If we’re to be literal about it, stamps issued to individuals redeemable for food are fairly new.  But helping the poor is not.  The history of  providing for the poor within a society traces its roots from the Roman Empire, Jewish tradition, Christian practice, the five pillars of Islam, and the Song Dynasty, among others. Welfare/History; Leviticus 23.22; Ruth 2; James 1.27; Prophet Sallallahu Alayhi Wa Sallam, quoted as saying, “Feed the poor and pat the head of the orphan (i.e., show compassion).”  and “Love the poor and mix with them.”  

In the United States, even in colonial times, provision was made for the poor by existing governmental structures, particularly when family and friends were unable to provide.  US History of Social Welfare

Closer to home, my Grandma Mary, born in 1912, was one of six children.  Her mother was widowed young.  She worked hard to support her six children.  But she also received government help, called County Relief.

Does the myth that we are self reliant do us harm?  You tell me.  An amazing and accomplished woman, Grandma Mary never learned to drive a car or balance a checkbook or do many of the things necessary to navigate the modern world.  When my Grandpa died, her children helped, which made her angry rather than grateful, bitter rather than thankful, for my Grandma grew up with the same lying mythology you and I did: I can do it myself!

 It would be comical if it weren’t so tragic.  When the myth of self reliance meets the reality of genuine need, the result is often petulance, self-absorption, depression, escalation of inappropriate behavior, anger and even rage.  

My Grandma, who never uttered an unkind word to me, never made an unkind gesture, once slapped me across the face in fury and frustration at her own need.

I know it wasn’t her, it was her circumstance.  But I also know that it hurts.  It hurt then.  It hurts still.

We all do ‘it’, whatever the ‘it’ is, with help.  To tell ourselves otherwise is to allow ourselves to become monsters when we no longer can do for ourselves, and to allow ourselves to deny help to others in the face of their genuine need, with the heartless reply, Do it yourself, as if we ever did.

That’s the lie.

It just won’t do.

Not for citizens.

Not for people of faith.

Not now.

Not ever.

 

Odd and peculiar

A Gathering Voices post by Lynne M. Baab

Many of our extended family members think my husband and I are distinctly odd. Strange. Maybe peculiar.

Some of the things we do because we’re Christians seem baffling them. We keep a Sabbath, which appears lazy. In many cases, we pray about things before we act, which seems irresponsible and a bit wacky. We give away at least 10% or our income, which seems totally crazy. We refer to the Bible as God’s word and we love Jesus, which evidently mark us as unthinking and blind to the realities of life.

This week I came across the word “peculiar” as a positive attribute. I found it in the hymn, “Jesus shall reign where’er the sun.” The first verses of the hymn describes the extent of Jesus’ coming reign as encompassing all creation and all people. The second to last verse lists the blessings humans receive when Jesus reigns. Then the last verse invites us to respond to the good news that Jesus will reign over everyone and every place, and that his reign will be so wonderful:

Let every creature rise and bring / peculiar honors to our King.

When Isaac Watts (1674-1748) wrote the words to this hymn in the eighteenth century, “peculiar” could be used to mean particular or unique. With these words, he’s inviting all creatures to bring to God the offerings that are particular to their own gifts or attributes, the honors that they are uniquely able to bring. The verse is a wonderful call to pay attention to the unique gifts and characteristics that God has blessed us with and then bring to God our lives, our gifts, our abilities, and our praises in the utterly unique form that only we can bring.

I wonder if we would be wise also to think about “peculiar” in this verse as odd or strange. To think about bringing to God the offerings and honors that seem peculiar to the rest of the world, like Sabbath keeping, tithing, prayer, Bible study and many other habits and patterns of life that Christians engage in and that seem bizarre, even incomprehensible, to many who do not know Christ.

Certainly the church of Jesus Christ needs to proclaim the gospel in ways that are culturally relevant. I worry, though, that we have become so culturally relevant that we are virtually identical to the wider culture. I think we need to speak up about the peculiar things we do because we are Christians.

I feel awkward talking about tithing, the fact that my husband and I give away at least 10% of our income. Shouldn’t that be private? I have come to believe that the fact that we tithe is one of the ways we proclaim with our actions that Christ is Lord of our lives to the people who know us. Specifically, that Christ is Lord of our money, which in Western culture is such a significant indicator of values.

I don’t like being told by family members that we are odd, strange, peculiar. That our faith has blinded us to the realities of life. That we are a bit brainless. But I do like bringing to Jesus the “peculiar honors” that I can bring, the unique and particular things I can offer. And if that means that people view me as peculiar, maybe that’s a good thing.

(If you'd like to listen to Isaac Watt's famous hymn, with two additional and slightly odd verses listed below, click here. The link earlier in this post goes to the words only. I also found a recording with "peculiar honors" changed to "glory and honor".)

Celebrate "Thank a Youth Worker Day"

 

A Gathering Voices Post by Lara Blackwood Pickrel

 

Many of our faith communities are on a perpetual quest, constantly seeking out the hippest, freshest and (sometimes) best practices for Christian education - especially the education of our children and youth.   As a minister and educator who has had the occasion to both witness and participate in this never-ending search, I find it troubling. 

It's not that I have a problem with folks wanting the very best for our kids.  I wouldn't hitch my wagon to organizations/companies like The Thoughtful Christian, Chalice Press or nPartnership if I didn't believe that our Sunday school classes, confirmation programs, baptism preparation courses and youth groups need excellent resources.   They do.  That's not the issue.

It's also not that I disagree with our search for programs and curricula that are up to date and plugged into current issues, media, culture (pop or otherwise) and technology.  As translators of the Gospel, Christian educators have to stay on top of these things so that we can share the Word in vital, truthful, accessible and savvy ways.  We do.  That's not the issue either. 

So what's my beef with the great quest for the perfect program of the moment?  The problem is that it leaves out the people.  Whether it is recognized or not, most faith communities have a number of people who are involved in the lives and faith development of children and youth.  There are the obvious ones (the youth minister, youth sponsors and Sunday school teachers), and there are also those who slip under the radar: the choir director who leads a youth choir or teaches a child to play the chimes, the elder who sits and talks with that teen who never makes it inside the sanctuary for worship, the woman who provides snacks, the parent who does dishes after a youth meal or drives kids to camp.  Obvious and otherwise, all of these people who have a heart for young people often get overlooked or undervalued in the search for the hot program of the moment. 

More often than not, while the programs and canned VBS materials get glorified, the people who journey alongside our young people only get complaints.  If good money was spent on curriculum but the program isn't growing, then the fault is laid at the feet of the people - but when things are going well, little is done to nurture and support the folks who have been called to share their lives with our youngest Christians.  Sometimes, when things are going really well, our children's ministers and youth ministers are asked when they plan to venture on to "real ministry".  It's meant as a compliment, but can hurt all the same.

One way to remedy this imbalance is to actively appreciate the people who journey with our children and youth.   Appreciation can take any number of forms, but if you are needing a concrete first step you might consider celebrating "Thank a Youth Worker Day".  Though it is officially slated as November 3 of this year, it could also be turned into a Sunday celebration.  Print out the stickers (a template can be found on their official website) and give them to anyone and everyone who is involved in the life and education of children and youth in your community.  Name them in your worship service.  Affirm them and their ministry loudly and generously. 

This kind of support is so simple, but so important.  Because ministry with children and youth is as real as it gets.  If you don't believe it, try it.  We could use another set of hands!

Security

Security

A Gathering Voices Post by Don McKim

 

The capture and death of Libyan dictator Moammar Gadhafi presented, once again, grisly views of a deposed and murdered dictator. Gadhafi’s forty-two years of rule were riddled by murders and executions, making him hated by many Libyan citizens, the citizens who overthrew his government and subsequently killed him. With his death comes hope for a new country; and for a security that will keep citizens safe from a hostile government.

“Security” is a topic of concern for everyone. In our nation itself, we are concerned about terrorist attacks. In cities and towns, crime is a major issue. In our families, our jobs and quests for well-being circle around security and how we can attain it.

All these issues have their place among our worries. They certainly do.

But in the ultimate sense, in relation to Christian faith, our security does not rest in anything we can “do” to make ourselves “safe.” Our security, of course, is in God and in the hope we have in Jesus Christ.

Karl Barth put it well:

The security of the Christian is not that fancied by the Stoics. The Christian is secure, absolutely and essentially secure, because [our] life is hid with the risen Christ in God, i.e., with the One who was not overcome by the world but overcame it (Col. 3:3) [Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV/3/2:645.]

It is good, sometimes, to step back from the proximate concerns of life and focus on our ultimate concerns. In the ebb and flow of what happens to us and what reaches beyond us, our deepest hopes rest in where our lives are located—“hidden with Christ in God.” Despite all the world can do to us—and does!—there is ultimate security in having our lives “hidden”—by faith—in the risen Christ who has overcome the world (John 16:33; “conquered”—NRSV).

As Jesus said, “Take courage”! (John 16:33)

 

Dog phobia and other anxieties

A Gathering Voices post by Lynne M. Baab

I’ve spent most of my adult life terrified of dogs. More accurately, heart-pounding terrified of dogs running toward me.

I know where the fear came from. At 19, when I was riding a bicycle, a dog ran out of someone’s yard and bit me in the leg. In the last few seconds before the bite, I could see the dog coming. That picture of a dog running toward me, followed by a painful bite, must be etched somewhere in my brain.

In my childhood, we had always had cats for pets, and none of my friends had dogs, so I had never gotten acquainted with dogs. Then that traumatic event happened, I didn’t have any positive dog experiences to counter it.

I’ve always been a walker, and about ten years ago it became clear to me that my phobia about dogs running toward me was ruining my joy in walking. Despite city leash laws, more people were letting their dogs run off leash. On one memorable occasion, a dog ran toward me on a lakeside path where I often walked. Fear flooded my body, and I shouted to the dog’s owner, “This city has a leash law.” My fear probably did not do good things to my tone of voice. She responded, “You must be a b**** to live with.”

It took a few more similar incidents before I realized I needed to stop reacting so strongly to dogs running. I told myself that dogs had been running toward me all my life, and I had only been bitten one time. I practiced deep breathing when dogs ran toward me. I tried to pet dogs in order to have some positive dog thoughts. I prayed that God would heal me of the phobia. My strategy worked quite well, and I no longer tremble and shake when a dog runs toward me.

Overcoming my dog phobia has been the only fear-related challenge in my life that has gone smoothly. I am increasingly nervous when I travel. Will I make it to the airport on time? Will the plane be so late I miss my connecting flight? Will the luggage arrive?

Then there’s the anxiety I feel about people I love. Will my husband die before I do and leave me lonely? Will our sons and daughter-in-law be okay on this particular vacation to an obscure destination or as they ride bicycles in heavy traffic on their way to work? Will I outlive my friends as well as my husband and be a lonely old lady?

I have job-related fears, weight-related fears, health-related fears, you-name-it fears. Why did positive thoughts, deep breathing and prayer eliminate my fears about dogs, but I still live with all these other fears, despite engaging in the same strategies? Why do I have to pray, over and over, entrusting into God’s hands the well being of people I love and my own well being? Why is trust in God’s goodness and care a daily challenge?

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens,” Jesus says, “and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 10:28-29).

Every day, and sometimes many times a day, I have to come to Jesus, take his yoke upon me, and learn from him. I wish I could do that once for all. But the rest for my soul that I need so badly seems to come only from continuous connection with God through Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. And that appears to require continual willingness on my part.

Drawing Our Lives

Rev. Dr. Shanta Premawardhana steps to the podium to bring the message on the second day of Christian Peacemaker Teams's 25th Anniversary Peace Congress in Chicago.  As the worship had begun, Presbyterian Pastor Shawna Bowman entered the empty space before the podium, knelt before the blank black page taped to the floor and began to paint.

By the time Dr. Shanta came forward, a border had been largely filled by Shawna and my eyes left her for a time, engaged in Dr. Shanta's words.

Addressing himself to the Exodus text on the gift of manna, theology, Dr. Shanta reminded us, is not an abstraction.  It cannot be.  And we help determine the context in which each of our theologies will develop by the simple act of choosing:  who will be at table with you today?

Dr. Shanta was reminding us that the people of the margins are seldom invited to the tables of folks like me.  Perhaps it was the sting of that truth; I don't know.  But it was at that moment that my eyes reverted to Pastor Shawna's drawing.  It seemed somehow safer.

My line of sight was drawn by Shawna's actions to the far right side of her work.  Figures run up the page, perpendicular to the floor.  I'm looking at her creation sideways.  Shawna's hands, captivate me . . . she is literally drawing on the margins Shanta is describing. . . while he invites us to notice who is absent from the table, Shawna is drawing . . . curling, whorling, swirling black on black strokes . . . there, on the margins . . . on the margins of the page as in the margins of our lives . . . there, God is still speaking.

As Shanta continues to speak of the margin space, Shawna adds more whorls and swirls, but now in vivid color . . . suddenly, the margins are alive . . . the place where movement is happening . . .

It's been there all along . . .

And the age-old invitation comes back . . . Let them with eyes to see see . . .

I am so grateful for the eyes of Shawna and Shanta and so many, many, others, out there, at the margins, living and working and dancing and bringing life-giving color to those like me in the comfortable middle of things. . . that space where colors too often fade into complacency.

_____________

Photo by Tim Nafziger, courtesy of CPT 

The Lion King on Big & Small Screen by Edward McNulty

Rated PG Running time: 93 min. Deut. 32:7

This marvelous Hamlet-related film has been a big hit in its 3-D re-release, and now is available in a superb take home package that features both the Blu-Ray and the DVD version.

It is a father-son story that the whole family can watch, though parents should be wary that there are violent scenes that will be scary for pre-school children. Elton John’s beautiful song celebrating the Circle of Life well supports the panoramic scene in which the shaman mandrill Rafiki climbs to the top of Pride Rock where little Simba and his parents King Mufasa (James Earl Jones) and Queen Sarabi (Madge Sinclair) are waiting for him. In a baptism-like scene he anoints the cub and presents him as the new prince to the multitude of animals assembled below. All bow and rejoice at this happy occasion.

All, that is, except for Scar, brother of Mufasa. Ambitious and jealous, he has stayed away. As wonderfully voiced by Jeremy Irons, Scar masks his jealousy in sarcastic remarks, often with double meanings. Turning his evil thoughts into deeds with the help of a pack of hyenas, he kills his rival and seizes the throne, but his plan to kill Simba also is thwarted, and the cub escapes to a far off land. Raised by some curious creatures, Simba grows to adulthood, but only an encounter with his childhood friend Nala and Rafiki, convinces him to return from exile and confront Scar.

The film will resonate with people of faith with its theme near the end of the importance of remembrance. All through the books of Exodus and Deuteronomy—indeed, throughout the Scriptures—we find the exhortation, “Remember…” In a spiritual encounter with his father, Simba is inspired to remember his legacy and his responsibility to live up to it. Also, parents will appreciate the earlier scene showing the closeness of father and son and the call to honor that relationship.

The discs include a fine “making of the film,” the usual voice over commentary by the filmmakers, and, depending on what set you purchase, deleted scenes extended footage, song cuts, and some family On-line access to interactive features. This film lends itself to use by parents, grandparents, and church leaders who want more than just entertainment for the young child under their care.

A fast from news media, part 3

A Gathering Voices post by Lynne M. Baab

A couple of days ago I read a series of articles about the three African women who are being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. I was stunned by their energy, their convictions and what they have done. I felt inspired, and I felt a lot more than that.

Their dedication to what they believe, and their willingness to persevere in acting on what they believe, was deeply convicting. For the rest of the day I found myself examining my life, wondering if I have done enough, if I have done what God has called me to do, if I have been the person God wants me to be. Pondering if and when I’ve been lazy. Then praying that God would help me be a person who faithfully acts on what she believes.

I’ve been fasting from the news for three months. (I’ve written about it on this blog here and here.) In the past few weeks, I’ve been experimenting with small doses of the news, to see how it feels and to see if I feel led to reengage. And to try to figure out how to reengage.

As I’ve been thinking of news and my experience of it, I’ve been categorizing stories dichotomously: discouraging or encouraging. I’ve been frustrated that so much of the news is so discouraging and negative, and I have longed for news stories that are more encouraging or positive.

As I reflected on the articles about the three Nobel Peace Prize winners, I realized I’ve been thinking too simplistically. The articles I read about these three amazing women were both encouraging and discouraging. Who they are and what they have done is encouraging and inspiring. Yet the injustice to women and children that necessitates their actions is not encouraging at all; that level of violence and injustice is deeply disturbing. And the challenges these three women continue to face are daunting. Reflecting on their lives reveals mine to be self-absorbed and lazy; this is convicting and not at all pleasant. Yet I’m so glad I didn’t miss those articles.

So, as I think about re-engaging with news media, I want to continue to ponder how and where I can find articles that are positive, encouraging and inspiring. But I want more than that. I also want to find articles about people who are doing wonderful and courageous things in this world of ours that has so many problems. Where can I find those articles? How can I sift and sort through the newspaper (both the paper newspaper and the online versions) to find articles like that?

I have another set of questions regarding the amount of time I want to spend interacting with the news. Clearly my level of engagement over the past month (a few minutes a week) hasn’t been enough. But I used to spend more than an hour a day engaging with the news. Do I want to do that again? Is God calling me to do that?

And how am I going to respond when I read articles that have no positive or encouraging aspects? How will I cope with my sadness? That was the issue that led me to fast from the news in the first place. What forms of prayer and reflection will work best?

Lots of unanswered questions. I need to keep pondering and praying.

(The lead article I read about the Nobel Peace Prize winners is here. Links on the right side of this article lead to profiles about each of the three women.)

Protesting corportations while wearing JCrew & speaking on an iPhone

a Gathering Voices post by Adam J. Copeland

One of my more conservative friends posted this picture on his Facebook page recently, shared under the headline, “It’s funny, because it’s true.”

I get it. Ironic, right? Maybe so. Yes, the captions make a point, but it’s not one I find compelling. In fact, it illustrates just how important the protests are, and how challenging it is to live in corporate America.

Some folks might argue, I suppose, that if you use buy something from a certain corporation (a MacBook, say), then by that purchase you declare your support for the company. In a market economy, you speak with money. The reasoning goes: if you don’t want to support Apple, don’t buy a MacBook. Simple enough.

I can appreciate the directness of this approach. I wish life were as simple as that. But, it’s not.

If it were, I couldn’t ever complain to a company after I bought their product…but I do.

If it were, I couldn’t lobby my representatives after I voted them into office….but I do.

If it were, I couldn’t both go to church, financially support its ministry, and at the same time work for change within the church…but I do.

In an NPR report by Margot Adler, Occupy Wall Street protester Jason Ahmadi acknowledged this tension. He said, “McDonalds that’s where we use the bathroom. Verizon, that’s how we, you know, give you our live stream that we’re broadcasting.”

And that, my friends, is the lovely, beautiful, challenging, tension of our times. It’s the gray. That’s how I can proudly pay taxes, and advocate the government spend them differently. That’s how I can buy Patagonia long pants, and email them suggesting they make an “extra long” variety as well. That’s how I can say, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”

In short, that’s how I live: simultaneously sinner and saint.

So the image above, rather than demonstrating the silliness of the protests, actually illustrates, for me, their great importance. Long live the tension, those who shed light on it, and all who struggle with the questions of our day.

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

 

A Gathering Voices Post by Lara Blackwood Pickrel

 

This week I had the privilege of joining a young church member and her family at the hospital while she underwent a minor surgery.  She was nervous, her parents were nervous – heck, I was nervous – and the two hour delay that cropped up before surgery only made the anxiety more palpable.  After all, they'd known that this procedure was coming for several weeks and, in the days immediately prior to it, they had already gone through a number of steps to prepare her for it.  There was plenty of time to get worked up, to let fear grow and spread itself around, pungent and thick. 

And then it was time.  We prayed with her and then walked alongside her rolling-bed to the door of the operating room, pausing to share a few more hugs and words of love before the nurse wheeled her through.   Now it was out of our hands – all we could do was wait with the other families in the waiting room, trust in the God-given and practice-honed skill of the doctors and nurses, and hope for the best. 

Tom Petty had it right.  The waiting really is the hardest part.  It is difficult in a hospital waiting room, and it is difficult throughout the rest of this life we share.  The tiny anticipations can be hard enough.  But if the minutes, hours or days spent waiting for a test result or a phone call can feel like an eternity, then it is all the more taxing when we’ve waited months for a job offer or years for the grief of a loved one’s death to fade away.  Patience may be a virtue, but I daresay that many of us wish it wasn’t necessary in the first place. 

There’s somethi  ng funny about patience though, something I was reminded of as we sat together in that waiting room full of strangers:  patience is as much an activity as it is a way of being.  Yes, there’s something to be said for an inherently calm, non-anxious heart in the midst of chaos – but most of us simply aren’t that person.  And though we may never be the unflappable ones in worrying times, we can be the ones who hold hands and sing songs, the ones who toss our heads back with big belly laughs even as unshed tears glisten in our eyes, the ones who listen to strangers’ stories with compassion  and keep our hands busy so that they won’t noticeably shake.   Or, like my young friend, we can be the one who makes a doll for her pastor while waiting for a procedure that terrifies her.  

Waiting can be a rough thing, especially for a people accustomed to a culture that values both expediency and immediacy.  Consequently, when serious waiting is required, the temptation is often to shut down, throw a fit or fill the time with unhealthy things.  But when we compensate for our lack of patience with a comforting touch, a shared joke or story, a listening nod, or a few creative strokes of the marker to fabric, all of a sudden: “voila!”  The wait is over.  It turns out we have patience after all.  And in the meantime, we’ve built beloved community in that terrifying, wonderful and fertile space between question and answer, past and future:  the present.