Saturday, May 5, 2012

Christmas Eve 2011


It’s estimated that there may be something like 300 sextillion stars in the known universe. (For those of you who are wondering, that is a 3 followed by 23 zeroes…) It’s also postulated that there could be about 50 million planets which could support and foster intelligent life. All of this of course is predicated upon any number of assumed constants and assumptions about our universe. Of course, we use the terminology “observable universe” because all of these factors are based on what we experience from our very tiny speck of a planet. Because in reality, there could be a limitless horizon beyond what astronomers and physicists can see…
In our own neck of the cosmic woods, our sun is apparently pretty small compared to other observable stars. However it is big enough to hold 1.3 million Earths inside with room to spare.
It sort of puts things into perspective when we think about our place in the universe.
Now, outside of Earth’s ability to support and foster intelligent life, our planet is largely unremarkable. In the grand scheme of things, we are a very small place. And in our complex, and seemingly quantum tininess, we simply continue to spin insignificantly and quietly in the vast beyond, and exist. When we consider all of this, it might make us wonder what the meaning of our lives—our histories—even our presence could amount to in a universe which is so largesse.

We probably don’t need the musings of astronomers and physicists to know how very small we are… The Psalmist speaks rightly, I think, when he writes: “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars you have set in their courses. What is humanity that you should be mindful of them (Ps. 8:4)?” It’s likely that we don’t even need to consider much beyond our own city, let alone our planet or universe to know how tiny we really are. This, of course leads to even more questions, like: If God has called all of this wondrous universe into being—what do I matter?
It’s an overwhelming question, especially with how easily our lives can become background noise in a larger world. I suppose it gets at that common need in us to know and be known—especially by God. It might lead us to wonder why in the world God would care for a relationship with us. With all of the grand things that happen in the universe and the very immensity of it… And in answer to that, I have to say that I have no really good response.
But then there was this one moment…this one time when all of Heaven and the whole of Creation turned its attention our way. It was the moment when God and all that is waited with bated breath for a young girl in Nazareth to say “Yes.” After all, even in this immense universe, she had a choice…



This wasn’t just agreement to God’s plan—it was a choice that Mary made to acquiesce to God. Honestly, it might have been easier at that time in history to have said “no.” The fact is, we don’t need to put on our historical lenses to know the cultural stigmas of being pregnant out of wedlock…
All the same, in all the universe,  she was willing to be the mother of the Son of God. And in her agreement she represents humanity’s “yes” to God as well. It’s a shining example of humanity’s ability to forgo selfishness, and says something of what we can be at our best. In this case, something far greater than our little place in Creation.
In the same way, it says everything about God. Here we see that God chooses to take immense risk to not only be close to us, but to join us in humanity in the self-giving act of the Incarnation. By this self-emptying, the God of all the cosmos becomes as tiny as any one of us.
We’re told that his birth happened at the height of Rome’s power. Aside from rumors, no one but a mad king and three wise men were paying any attention for signs. There was also a mass census which had everyone in busy disarray. It seems an awfully big world for such a seemingly small event as a single birth. Ironically, in John’s Gospel we’re told that
He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him (Jn 1:10-11).

All the same, we see God’s longing for such intimacy with us, that God would come to us in the form of a child—to be with us, and be one of us.
What this meant at the time for Israel, was that God suddenly had a face, and a personal, utterable name. God was no longer only represented by the Temple in Jerusalem. The transcendent, far off God was now so immanent as to have a home, a mother and friends. In fact, God was so very immanent that almost everyone missed him being here.
But just by being here with us, Jesus proves God’s love for us. What’s more, when Jesus returned to the Father in his ascension—he brought with him what it is to be human. So that now, not only does God dwell with God’s people—something of us is part of God. And so, in some very mysterious way, the Creator of all the vastness of the universe knows us, and loves us and is forever with us.
So in the Incarnation…this way in which God breaks into our reality, we’re called to more than simple remembrances of past things. Christmas and Advent are no longer opportunities to look backward. Because for us Jesus, the one who is coming into the world, is both historical, but also the one we hope for and wait for—he is also our constant in life. A life which is chaos, and unpredictable—even frightening in its asymmetry. Life is broken and beautiful and because of the mystery of Jesus’ participation in humanity, it is also made somehow holy. Because in him we find the response to Creation’s longing. A longing perhaps most beautifully expressed in the familiar hymn:
“In sorrow that the ancient curse should doom to death a universe, you came, O Savior, to set free your own in glorious liberty. When this old world drew on toward night, you came; but not in splendor bright, not as a monarch, but the child of Mary, blameless mother mild.”
So tonight, for a brief moment, in the hush after the din of shopping; in the midst of anticipation for the magic of Christmas morning—we wait and watch. We make a place in our hearts for more than the Christ Child, but a place for him who is to return.
Just like those who waited for the Messiah to come in his first advent, we wait for his return in a second kind of advent. We look for him to break upon this world once again in glorious light—heralded by a firmament full of angelic hosts. And once again all that is in the universe will turn attention toward our little place in Creation.
Because just like that vast expansive universe, and all of the most finite things in existence—we ache to see the beloved return. After all, I imagine that we’re all a little lost, beaten up and tired in this big-big world. Even so, we wait with hope for one we have known and knows us. We wait for him to once again draw us out of darkness and hold us up to the Light. “O Come, thou Dayspring from on high, and cheer us by thy drawing nigh; disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadow put to flight. Rejoice, Rejoice! Emmanuel will come to thee…”


Saturday, March 31, 2012

More Ways Yadda-Yadda Continued

There are some ways of getting more financial support for the community. Depending on the community's interest, you could do anything from brew beer, roast coffee, grow vegetables--whatever. It's really up to the community, and how they could best use their gifts. You may also look into getting grants from Lily and one's ecclesiastical authority.

Alright, another important factor is having a social presence for the community. So, it should be built into the community that they not only work with the church's existing outreach ministries, but also find other places to offer time and help. Obviously the community cannot do everything, but should try to choose which ministries are best suited to the community members (likewise with other social works) and try to do these things as a community. This allows the community to be known as more than a para-church organization, and allows the community a chance to be the Church in an active way.

Finally, if at all possible, the community should try to offer hospitality whenever possible. Whether this is inviting people in the wider community or their parish to meals--or even keeping a retreat room. It is important the the community be outside of the house, but also allow others to come into the community's space.

As to this idea of offering retreat space, some ideas I have on this would be that a minimum offering would be required. A person on retreat would keep the prayer schedule of the community and share common meals. The minimum offering would vary according to how long a person might stay (to cover food cost, etc.). The community would be responsible for checking in with the person, and mainly help them feel welcome.

I know all of this is pretty ridiculous--but it does make me wonder what would happen if the stars were right and something like this actually took off...
As I've said before I feel like we're approaching a kind of new Dark Age when the place of the Church and true religion is being usurped by selfish, narcissistic 'spirituality.' The garbage that Thomas Merton called false mysticism. Just like in the time of Christian Monasticism's birth, we have politicians using religion and devotion as campaign platforms. And the truth is, that like it did back in the original Dark Ages, the Church just might need to go to seed, and explore it's roots to see how to survive. Maybe monasticism is part of that.

More Ways to get yourself and your church group into trouble

2) Helping the Church Go To Seed (Monasticism and You)
This could take a lot of buy-in and planning, however, I think it could be a pretty viable plan.
First off you will need a group of people willing to apply their lives to a rule of life. By nature you CANNOT apply a rule of life to your life, you have to apply your life to the rule. Go check out the Rule of St. Benedict.
It's important that the clergy person in charge of the church group is part of this discussion as it will require their leadership and by-in. It also requires some time spent reading about monasticism and religious rules of life. But once you've done this work, you need to sit down with your would-be community to discuss the formulation of a rule of life.
An important, and I think necessary, part of this rule should be that it needs to be a spiritually centered one. That isn't to say that all residents must be of the Christian faith, or even theists for that matter. However, they must still agree to live to the standards of the religious rule of life, and be part of the worship/prayer life of the community.
The point of this is that when the social mores of community life begin to tear at the community, the community must get back to the centrality of the rule. They must have a means to return to the rule because otherwise they are no more than a group of people living together for cheap.

Once the rule is set, and residents have background checks (yes, do background checks!), you need to look into a house. In the present economy, foreclosures might be the way to go. Ideally, this community would be sponsored by a church--so, monies for a house could be raised.
Now, as to the house, it would be the responsibility of the community members to keep up the house. This would mean continually keeping common areas neat--literally in expectation of guests. Because they are technically part of the church as a community, they must adopt a policy of hospitality. Remember, this isn't just a social experiment, it is about being the Church.
The community would either schedule to take turns to prepare meals, which would be eaten in common at every possible opportunity. Housekeeping and maintenance of grounds would be the same way.
Community members would need to maintain work outside of the community in secular jobs (unless viable, independent support is possible). A portion of income would go to the common life of the community. This would pay for bills, food, etc.
As to the connection to the church, the community would do such things as keep regular prayer offices. Whether these are weekly in a formal setting, and daily in an informal setting--the community must have some lay spiritual responsibility in the church. In the Episcopal Church, it might be good to have the community plan and lead one of the prayer offices. Likewise, the community might be responsible for some sextant duties--caring for the church building and property.

This post is getting pretty long, so I'll stop here and post more separately.
In my next post, I'll talk about viable income to support the community; moving the spirituality of the community out into the world; and drawing the Church and the world nearer to the community.

Some ways to get you and your church group in trouble...

So, these are some ideas that I've been thinking about for a couple of years now, and I haven't had the time to get them started. That said, I am posting them here in the even that anyone reads this and could take these ideas and use them. I don't need credit for them, you just need to promise that you'll let me know how their working.

1) Guerrilla Art Fair
This one needs some buy-in from your local government if you hope to do it for longer than 3 hours. Or...maybe you don't care.
Call together artists, musicians, spoken-word poets--whatever. Confirm the people that you have and tell them to bring some of their work to a certain location on a certain day. (PLEASE UNDERSTAND: This is NOT a flash mob.)
Make fliers with the names of artists, include what will be at the fair. Pass them out in clubs, bars, tattoo parlors, up-scale coffee shops, etc. It's important that you have a mix of places canvassed.
Have the fair. Ask a couple of artists to offer workshops. Depending on how adventurous you feel, allow people to sell their stuff.
Also very important: Allow places for people to drop business cards, sign e-mail lists. Keep them in the loop for future events.
Evil Plot Twist: Contact any businesses who left information. See if you could round them up to sponsor a proper art show featuring the artists at the guerrilla show.

Fair Warning

So, I've decided to start posting my back-log of sermons. I lost a ton of them due to a failing external hard drive, however, because of this blog I still had many of them.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

I think we're in trouble.

As I (with my best intention) work at cleaning up the kitchen, I find myself thinking about the Church. I know. But it's kind of what church nerds do when their cleaning the kitchen. Besides, I really do love the Church.
Anyway what occurred to me is that the problem that we seem to have with the Church seems largely a post-industrialized world problem. Y'know? It's like at one time the Church really fit us--it was fashionable and we wore it everywhere we went. Now, it's out of fashion. It's not someting we'd be caught dead in--in fact, we really only get it out and wear it at holiday dinners and when the aunt who knitted it for us comes around. "Yup, auntie. I really love the Church you made me..."
That said, the Church seems to have become something like deer in North America. No more natural predators, so there is over population and starvation due to lack of food source.
Now, I'm not advocating for the removal of Christians. I'm not advocating for persecution. But I would like to point out that the last time the Church got this comfy and fat we had the Dark Ages. Something to think about.

Religion isn't the problem... (A Rant. A Response. Not Spoken Word.)

I suppose because I'm not as on top of things as I'd like to be--or because I just don't have time for this kind of B.S.; I didn't catch this video until recently. It's the spoken word video called "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus."
I know a lot of people have responded to this...and , well...whatever. But this whole spiritual but not religious thing that has infected society is really something with which I have beef. So, in the event that anyone reads this, and you disagree with me, here's my premise:
*cue overdone artsy video footage in sepia*
Jesus didn't come to abolish religion.
In fact, we read that he was faithful in attending synagogue, and even participating in synagogue worship. His family made trips to Jerusalem (a religious necessity for God's people). And, aside from the few times we see him challenging the cultural norms that oppressed people, he was an authority on midrash and Torah. whoops.
Guess the revolution is over. Edginess and angst (a word often misused) aborted.
Here is my point. Our relationship with God is not only our own. If it were, that would be a great excuse for isolationism. Isolationism as we know from the DSM IV can easily lead to socio-pathology. Isolation is also a result of sin. So, what we can derive from this is that our vocation as Christians is based solidly in relationship and community. God as Trinitarian is the model for perfect union in community, and as creatures created in God's image, perhaps we should strive to live more fully in community...?
Now, the tricky part about relationship is that there needs to be more than 'feel-goods' holding us together in community. What I mean is that we need more than just orgasmic worship experience and fluttery hearts to keep true relationships going. If there isn't something more, we become gigolos or whores to false religious experience--maybe even junkies. We always need the next fix, but are never transformed by the experience.
Right.
So, this is where we come to the issue of religion. Religion is not the problem. It has become a scapegoat for us to ignore our responsibility to God and one another--you know, a mature relationship?
Sure, people abuse religion and power--but we already know that. And to say that wars are started over God and religion is only to say that we don't want to take responsibility for our own actions and in-actions. That said, I refuse to stop driving a car because of the number of bad drivers, drunk drivers, or other causes of vehicular deaths... Get my point?
Here's my point about religion. I'll use my marriage as an example.
When I married my wife, it was because we love one another, we're attracted to one another, and we get all of the 'feel-goods' and heart flutters that come with relationships. At our wedding, we invited people to hear us take vows. Those people help us to live into those vows. We took the vows because the truth is that there are times when I'm pretty tough to live with... I'm not quite as attractive as I was in my twenties. I've gotten worse about doing cute little things to commemorate stupid little events in our relationship.
I'd imagine it can get pretty tough for my wife to dig up those feel-goods when I'm short tempered, or otherwise insufferable.
Luckily for us, we have these vows. We have this covenant between the two of us, and with God and with our friends who were there to keep trying, even in the tough times.
The problem with being spiritual but not religious means that we can have as many partners as we want... When the magic of celebrating those sentimental little events lose their appeal--we go to the next fuzzy-wuzzy...
Where's the relationship? There sure as hell isn't any responsibility.
That's all for now.