A Threadbare Palantir

Monday evening I attended an inaugural ball. I wore a gown made with the help of a friend. You can read more about why I’m insane and chose to make a formal evening gown out of silk in less than a week at my home blog. But that’s not the point of this post. And, yes, I am insane.

Here is a photo of me and LightHusband (I’m wearing the dress and we’re on our way to the Ball):

Dressed & Ready

BlazingEwe (my BFF) and I made that gown in about three days.  Not only did we make it, but it’s a mash-up of two patterns.  And we didn’t have either pattern in the correct size, so we had to redraft both in addition to putting them together.  Yes, it was a high pressure situation.  We left for the ball at approximately 4:30 p.m. and we finished the dress at 2 p.m.  On the same day.  Yes, I cried several times.  Yes, I said I wasn’t going at least twice.  No, I was not kind or gracious when I said it.  But I never threw anything.  So I get one point for that.  Just one.

For the most part I made it on my trusty sewing machine; my Bernina Virtuosa 153QE (that’s Quilter’s Edition).  But my dress is made from dupioni silk; a fabric notorious for the way it ravels and shreds after it’s been cut.  So the seams had to be finished.  As you can see there are flounces along the bottom.  They are made from silk organza and needed a handkerchief hem.  Have you ever tried to fold and press silk organza into 1/8″ folds twice over?  On a curve?  I’ll never, ever try it again.  The trials of Sisyphus come to mind.  I sort of had one (out of six) done after about two hours of fiddling with it and a hot steam iron.  I still had to sew this hem down and it wasn’t nearly prepared enough.  It was Saturday afternoon and I’m thinking, “Alright … just the [insert several choice curse words here] flounces will take 12 hours to put a hem on them and then we’ll be able to start on the dress.  That’s soooo not going to work.”  I think that might have lead to crying jag number two and rant number one.  But right then TallCoolWoman called and asked how things were going.  I couldn’t talk, but BlazingEwe could and she described the scene.  TallCoolWoman had just the solution.  Her serger!

A serger is the machine that finishes seams in a manner like you find on manufactured clothing.  It will also create a handkerchief hem on organza without any pressing involved!  So those flounces?  They took 45 minutes total, plus 15 minutes for a lesson and practice.  One hour versus 12.  Yeah, baby!!  Then she loaned it to us so that we could finish all the seams on the gown.  That process took about a minute per seam, rather than 5 - 10 minutes per seam.  I am sold.  Now, I “need” a serger.

I have resisted these for years.  Turned my nose up at them.  There was no reason for a serger in my world.  They couldn’t do anything my trusty sewing machine couldn’t do.  But, now?  Now I’m sold.  What just happened here?

Here’s the interesting thing.  I have another acquaintance who has extolled the virtues of these machines to me for years.  She has come right out and told me that I need to have one.  Wondered openly why I won’t get one.  Used one in my presence several times in attempts to show me how wonderful they are.   She made excellent arguments.  Told me all the right things.  Gave me great reasons for trying one and needing one.  But all her efforts were in vain; I was never even tempted.  Mostly because her case was too good and too perfect.  I saw nothing in it that was appealing or inviting.

TallCoolWoman on the other never gave me one argument.  Not one.  She simply extended an invitation during a moment of need.  And offered an open hand up when I needed it.  Now I’m looking for sergers, finding prices and learning everything I can about them.

I’ve been thinking in the week or so since about this … and about how we can have the best argument in the world, but it’s an open hand and a winsome invitation that are more likely gain a hearing.

Filed under: Gellies, Livin' the missional life by threadbaresonja

PRECALCULUS TEACHER NEEDED - (NoVa Suburb - adult) - Due to serious illness of our current instructor, [Local High Powered Homeschool Co-op] seeks an instructor for Precalculus class, meeting 11:30-12:30 AM Mondays and Wednesdays now through May 20. Instructor must have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, provide two references, and have a positive and supportive attitude toward homeschooling. Contact Co-op Administrator at __________.

The above notice was in the bi-monthly homeschooling newsletter I get. Do you see what the issues might be with this?

Filed under: Livin' the missional life, Walk Humbly by threadbaresonja

This was originally published at my home blog, Calacirian, earlier this month.  I’ve edited the ending rather severely for many different reasons.

We’ve had a special guest visiting here at the LightHouse the past few weeks. She has been a very good guest and has made no intrusions in our routines. She hasn’t asked anything particularly difficult of us. She’s very bright and inquisitive and, importantly, gets along well with Sam and Monty. Her name is Sally and we are really loving her.

We’re taking care of her for a friend while he visits his parents until early next week. She’s going to leave a hole in our hearts when she’s gone back home.

It has been amusing watching all the pets get used to one another. Sam has had the worst time of it. You see he has no concept of his actual size and does not understand why she gets to *be* a lap dog and he does not. After all, to his pea-sized brain, he’s earned it. She’s done nothing but waltz in here, jump onto the sofa and look cute. What’s up with that?

We had a really funny moment on Christmas morning. Both Sally and Sam had been given rawhide bones to chew on as a special treat. Sam took to his right away and went through about half of it before losing interest in it because he wanted to go outside for a while. Sally then took over. Well, not exactly. She came to the bone. Sniffed it. Realized it was too big for her and promptly decided to stand guard over it. None of which the humans were aware of. We did know, however, that Sam had left the bone in the midst of the walkway from the door at the back deck to the eating area in the kitchen. Pretty soon, Monty (the cat) came in through the door and nonchalantly made his way toward the eating area. He was on a mission to his food dish in the laundry room. He was also unaware of the bone. As most of us know, rawhide bones are beneath the notice of any self-respecting cat. Sally had not received that memo. Everyone in the room was startled by the sudden eruption of snarling, barking and growling that Monty received as he attempted to walk past the (non-existent to him) bone. No one was more surprised than the cat. Sally was very pleased with herself and promptly came to me, wagging her tail and smiling, proud of a guard job well done.

Monty spent an hour in the livingroom wondering just what had happened to him.

It was hilarious to watch. And there was absolutely nothing we could have done to change it. There was no explaining to any of the animals how they didn’t need to worry about each other. It’s just been something they have to learn.

I’ve been thinking about that incident quite a bit lately. It was funny to be sure. Remembering the look on Monty’s face has elicited a laugh on more than one occasion. But I’ve also been wondering about it a lot too. I’ve been thinking about all the times that we humans do the same thing that Sally did. How many times do we do that? Do we lash out, snarl, bark and growl to protect something that was never being threatened in the first place? We think someone walking by our *stuff* is out to get it so we lash out at them, but the reality is they’re on their way to the food bowl in the other room. Then we’re pretty happy with how well we’ve protected our *stuff* (whatever that stuff might be) so we turn to our communities with our metaphorical tails wagging and we go to them seeking approval. But for no earthly reason we just sent someone into the livingroom wondering what the h*ll happened and why.

I guess doing that makes us human.

Then I look at Sam and his insatiable desire to be noticed, loved on and sit on my lap. This would not be a bad thing except for the fact that Sam weighs almost 90 pounds and has a lot of fur. A lot. He’s a golden retriever. They are known for many wonderful qualities … being a lap dog is not one of them. Poor Sam. He just cannot reconcile how Sally gets to waltz through the door and onto our laps. She gets to sit there, cuddle up and sleep. He has to take his daily 10 hour nap on the floor. And wonders why he’s been a bad dog. Or what Sally has done to merit such undeserved favor.

You’d think from Sam’s attitude and behavior this week that no one has noticed him since Sally came to town. That he never gets fed, loved, petted or anything. However, just the reverse has been true. We’ve spent more time with him in an effort to overcome his feelings of inadequacy. And we’ve played with both dogs together. Now that is an interesting sight … playing with a 90 pound dog and a 25 pound dog together. But they get along famously and do well side by side.

How often do we do that? We humans do this all the time. We carve out little kingdoms for ourselves … tiny areas of carpet and declare them ours. Then someone else waltzes in and does it better. Hops up and gets all the applause. I remember the first time I recognized it in myself. I’d learned how to cook and bake when I was quite young and by the time I was a teen made all the desserts in my family. Then my younger brother came along and learned how to bake bread from scratch. At first, I was so jealous and annoyed with his ability that I could not even enjoy his bread. It only took two or three batches and I overcame that tendency. I mean … who can withstand freshly baked bread!! And he has the knack for it. I’ve never been able to quite get it with the yeast. So … I do a lot of other things well (like cake ), but bread has escaped me. Big deal.

What about in church? How many times are there people who have a place they’ve made for themselves and believe it to be “God ordained” … then a Sally waltzes in, hops up on the sofa and they’re left sleeping on the floor. How can that be? Their place, their kingdom … it was God ordained, no one else can have it. Certainly not that Sally-come-lately. She must have some nefarious purpose. He must be up to something evil. Whoever they are, that Sally-come-lately, they are out to get Sam. They want to knock Sam off his standing in his community. That’s what they’re up to … make him/her lose their status, standing or favor.

Here’s the thing … Sam was never wired to hop up on the sofa and he doesn’t see that she does sleep on the floor sometimes. He also doesn’t see that Sally adores him. Or that the whole family doesn’t care that he can’t get on the sofa (in fact, we prefer that he doesn’t). We love Sam for being Sam and there are things he can do that Sally cannot (like run and catch a ball). We love Sally for her traits. And despite the fact that Monty wakes us up in the middle of the night more consistently than our children ever did, we love him too. I think it has something to do with his really loud purr. But we never expect Monty to act like Sam, or Sam to act like Monty or Sally to act like any of them. We respond to each of them individually and love them each individually.

Admittedly, Sam and Sally and Monty are pets and rather simple to parse out. A church is made up of people; a much more complex behavioral system and far more difficult to work our way through. I think, though, the principles are the same. Sam and Sally and Monty can be symbolic of both individuals and groups within a larger group. Some are lap dogs, others are retrievers, and still others are cats. Some people are oblivious to that bone and/or area of carpet you’re so zealously guarding. When you growl, snarl and bark at them, they are going to retreat in horror and wonder what the h*ll happened.  Some people are wondering why it looks so easy for the Sally-come-lately and others don’t know she was once an abandoned dog with problems of her own.

The thing is the church, however you want to define that sacred space or community of faith, is supposed to be different. Jesus gave us a beautiful description of what we’re supposed to look like in the book of John. He said, “… you’ll be known by your love.” Further on in his first letter to the church at Corinth, Paul gave us a description of love that has withstood the test of time:

1If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. 11When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. 12Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (italics are mine for emphasis)

I think this is a description of God’s economy. The economy we were created to enjoy. The one in which there is enough for everyone. Enough love, enough money, enough time … enough. That economy where greed, and pride and envy do not rip and tear at us every day. Unfortunately, the economy we live in is limited and finite, rather than infinite. We forget that we have access to the infinite, especially to the infinite love that God has made available to us. And church, that sacred space, that community of faith becomes just like any other group of humans. Mean. Nasty. Brutish. And short. To (mis)quote Thomas Hobbes. We lose our grip on the Divine and hang on to the corporeal plane with our fingernails.

We act like animals; we bark and snarl and snap at people who are oblivious to our rawhide bones or other preciously guarded objects. We are jealous of others’ talents or abilities as they waltz through the door and seemingly into the spotlight. We cause wounds on the souls of others that may take a lifetime to heal in response to them just being. This is not the church that Jesus called us to. This is not love. This is humans being human rather than humans in constant contact with the Divine.

What would a church or community of faith look like if it took the command to love seriously.  I mean seriously.  I mean how would we know when someone was a Monty or a Sam or a Sally and when they were really being evil?  Or does that matter?  Are we commanded to love each other in spite of motive?  Will that love change the most nefarious heart?  And could all of this change the world?

Filed under: Grace, Love Mercy, Seek Justice, Walk Humbly by threadbaresonja

Yesterday was a whirlwhind here at the LightHouse.  We were having company for dinner and the house was beyond wrecked.  It was wrecky-wrecked.  The school room (aka the dining room, but we never use it for that) had become the junkroom over the holidays and it is just off the living room, connected by an archway.  So to have it be a junkroom is very unsightly and much less than relaxing if one is sitting in the livingroom.  So we cleaned and we cooked and two friends stopped by at separate times.  One is going through a divorce, she was in between a lawyer’s visit and work.  So we fed her lunch and she talked.

We baked a cake and I made candy cane ice cream for dessert.  We had cassoulet, salad, bread and wine for dinner.  More importantly, we had a lot of great conversation and laughter.  We re-connected again.  You see, this wasn’t just any company.  This was family.  And it wasn’t just any family, it was a branch of the family with whom there was a falling out about nine years ago.  Granted, we and they were not the main participants in the falling out but we and they became collateral damage.  So we are now finding our way back to one another.

Baby and Me

My family is complex because I have cousins who are my parents age and they have children who are near to my age.  So I loosely refer to all of them as my cousins, but really some are cousins and some are cousins-once-removed.  At dinner last night we had my cousin and his wife, and the son and his wife and their baby daughter.  We told tales of long ago and talked about mutual relatives and laughed at antics of pets.  It was a thoroughly enjoyable evening seasoned with much grace and love.

Our mutual ancestor, a grandfather, was well-known for his insistence on supporting those with less than he.  Though he had very little to begin with.  The family stories, which I find are not exaggerated, abound.  The most well-known centers around his imprisonment during the 1930’s for his support of a Teamsters Union.  He was the treasurer and was framed for embezzling funds.  He spent a year in prison before he was granted a full pardon by the governor because … my grandfather just never, no never, used money that was not his.  And he kept meticulous records.

So one of the stories that was shared around the dinner table last night had to do with the adolescent misbehavior of my cousin’s son, now a grown-up with a daughter of his own.  He was, as they say, having an obstreperous youth.  This came as a surprise to me because my memories of him were that he was quite responsible and well balanced.  In any case, the phone call came one day to my cousin and his wife, “We are sorry sir, but your son is being suspended from Local Middle School.”  This phone call carried a certain sting because my cousin taught middle school in this school district, but not in that school.  Well, why was young son being suspended?  He saw an altercation at a nearby table during the lunch hour.  There was an underdog (no one he knew at all; not a friend, not an acquaintance) who was being unjustly accused and punished.  So young son rode in on his trusty white steed to save that underdog from his unjust accusation and punishment by the powers that were.  And he stood his ground long past the time that it was perhaps a good idea.  He stood his ground and stood it and stood it … right into gaining a suspension for himself.

We all laughed at the story, including now middle-aged son.  I recognized a bit of my own DNA at work in the scene and commented, “That darn stubborn streak.  It’ll get you every time.  Especially when you’re standing up for the little guy.”   We all looked at each other with that sense of epiphany and realized another sense of family connection.  A piece of heritage handed to us by our (great)grandfather.  The sense that the little guy is worth protecting and helping.  That little guy that you see here and there as you go about your day.  The cashier in the grocery store, the garbage man in the cold rain, the lady sitting outside the train station in a garish outfit with no place to go … they are the little people who deserve attention and time and protection by those who have more, even if it’s just enough to buy a cup of coffee.  Sometimes just saying hello and how are you while checking out is enough.  Or talking to the garbage guys as they do their untouchable work.  It’s worth it you know.

It’s just like bringing a cup of water to Jesus.

Filed under: Livin' the missional life, Love Mercy, Lovin' my neighbor, Seek Justice by threadbaresonja

This was originally published on my home blog, “Calacirian,” as part of a synchroblog on untouchables in June of 2007.

I don’t remember how old this ad campaign is. They all start to run together after awhile. Some of you may remember the Dr. Pepper ads … I think they ran in the late 1970’s judging from the look.

Wouldn\’t You Like To Be A Pepper Too

It’s very seductive. If you drink Dr. Pepper, you’ll have lots of friends; be part of the “in-crowd.” According to this ad, everyone wants “to be a Pepper.” Look at all the shiney, happy people being “Peppers.” I don’t like Dr. Pepper, but I want to be one after watching that ad. I’d even drink one now and again if I could have that life.

Ads like that are deceptive (of course). They strum the chords of our desire to belong. They dig around deep in the hurts that we all have and ask, “Do you have what you want?” Then they tell us, “You can belong. Just get this one thing and you’ll be part of the in-crowd.”

Why do we have this deep down desire to belong? And why does it keep us purchasing more and more stuff? I think there are a couple of reasons for that. First, I think that we’re all born with a desire to be in groups. We were made to bond with others in families and in communities (how we were made that way is not the focus of this post … so I’m not going there). Second, I think that at some level and at some time in our lives we have each been branded as “untouchable” by a group and been excluded from that group for reasons which were beyond our control. This caused a wound and a desire to overcome that exclusion … to become part of the in-crowd far beyond the wound that was created.

In the first century, Jesus is recorded as having healed many people. It is told that he healed several lepers, blind people, cured a woman with an unstoppable menses, cripples, etc. At the time these people were considered (especially the lepers) as untouchables. In the first century, people with physical and mental problems of this nature were believed to have brought it upon themselves by some sin or have had it brought upon them by sin in their family’s past. In other words, it was the choices made by them or their families that caused the problems they were now facing. It was, to be succinct, their own fault they were lepers, or blind, or deaf, or bleeding, or … etc.

Those of us who read the New Testament shrink from that understanding in dismay. We are much more enlightened now. And we know some of what Jesus knew. That those people were suffering from physical maladies over which they had no control at all.

Ah, yes. We are much more enlightened now. We no longer have leper communities. We no longer have beggars in our streets. We no longer treat our mentally ill as if they were possessed of demons and keep them locked away. Or … do we?

Every human group has a defined set of acceptable and unacceptable behaviors. Some are universal. Thou shalt not kill other humans seems to be universal (for good reason). Doing bodily harm to other humans also seems to be universal. After that it gets kind of dicey. In the institutional, fundamentalist Protestant church sexual deviance (that is anything that deviates from one man-one woman-missionary position) is considered unacceptable behavior … for life. There is no repenting or forgiveness once one has crossed that line. How about if one considers being a Democrat? The emerging church/conversation has its own set of unacceptable behaviors as well. What if one chooses to live a solitary life? Or continues to shop at Wal-Mart? Flagrantly? The secular community has unacceptable behaviors too … alcoholism, sexual offenses, being overweight.

My point is, we continue to shun people for things that they may have little or no control over. Weight, substance abuse, and sexual orientation are all issues which have deep, deep roots in people’s psyche’s. I am daily more convinced that sexual orientation something that a person is born with and is immutable. Weight and substance abuse issues have life long causes, consequences and cures. We cannot decide for others what they have a “choice” in. Because we do not live in their heads. We only live in our own heads. Here in our own heads we are all broken, each and every one of us. If every group has its own untouchables, its own lepers, then we all must be lepers of one sort of another.

Every time we create an “us” and a “they”, we have created modern day lepers, untouchables. We have created a set of people with whom we will not associate. If we are to begin to learn how to love as Jesus loved (that would be to love our neighbors as ourselves) we must begin to see others not as we want them to be (perfect), but as they are … fellow creations of God. We must begin to see them as “us.” Fellow lepers in the colony of earth. Wouldn’t ya like to be a leper too?

Filed under: Lovin' my neighbor, Seek Justice by threadbaresonja

This was originally posted on my home blog, “Calacirian,” in August 2007.

It all began with a confession of sorts. Now I’ve witnessed some confessions before. The really heartfelt ones bring all witnesses to their knees. I saw one last night on (of all places) Law & Order - Criminal Intent. In this particular episode a nun confessed her part in a vicious hate crime that had taken place seventeen years earlier. She had spent the intervening years working out her penance in the convent; getting and keeping girls off the mean streets of NYC. But she had willingly and with malice helped to beat a black teen senseless and it had left him in a near vegetative state for years. He was about to die as a result of his wounds. I doubt I will ever be enough of a writer to describe for you the heart that went into her confession. I’ve seen it several times now and it brings me to tears each time.

It was a confession. A verbal description of the wrong done. It was complete with details and full disclosure of the depravity of the moment. It also included an understanding of wrong and growth in grace. The last thing that it included was a full comprehension that no matter how much grace, mercy or forgiveness God may give, there are still lasting consequences for ill behavior in the kingdom of men. The nun understood that giving her confession in the presence of police officers and a district attorney meant that it was “on the record.” The district attorney told her that it would be sealed and in the event of the victim’s death, homicide charges would be filed against her and the men who had committed the hate crime. She squared her shoulders, a weight seemed to lift from her and she looked him in the eye, “I’ll be there this time. But now I must tend to my girls.”

There has been a discussion carrying on in other realms of the blogosphere about another confession by Gary Smalley that occurred in the near past. Apparently, he did a lot of his writing while his heart wasn’t in it. But … he’s all better now. Okay. So I’m not really certain what’s so sinful about that. Writing was his job. A lot of people do their job when their heart isn’t in it. Perhaps what he really needs is a new job. But that’s not the point of this post. I’m going to summarize by quoting from Brother Maynard, because it gets me where I want to go most quickly and it gives the links most succinctly and then I can get on with my point without boring you, my dear reader, to tears:

Brant Hansen opines on the recovery of Gary Smalley, noting how Gary went from all-good to was-bad-but-now-all-good without any real mention of what came between … the “bad” part. The IMonk takes note and adds on about the cult of Christian celebrity, somewhat tongue-in-cheek at points: “If you believe the entire Christian celebrity culture is a dangerous and polluted waste of mind, heart and money, you must just want to be difficult.” Put me down for just wanting to be difficult.

Just tuned in? At issue is the way in which the Christian culture makes celebrities of people, and the way that they ignore stories of people who struggle, waiting for them to “get better” and come back with a great recovery story. Everyone loves a good recovery story … but nobody wants to hear about sin before it’s become a thing of the past.

Quick primer:

I struggled.

good.

I’m struggling.

not good.

Basically, sin isn’t an acceptable subject unless you’ve gotten over it. We want to hear about current victories over past sin, not current struggles with present sin. If you’re still sinning, go away and come back when you’ve gotten over it and have your life back together.

That’s from Bro. M’s “Come Back When You Have An “After” Story, Okay?” At some point that is a must read as well as the comment thread (in which you will see me confess to using colorful language … but shhhh … it’s a secret )

I’ve been mulling this over. This idea of forgiveness and grace and mercy and judgement. Confession and sin. How does it all work together? How do we mete it out here in the corporal world? Which is vastly different from how God metes it all out and can the two be the same? Are we humans indeed at all capable of being forgiving on that level? What kind of vulnerability does it require on the part of the confessee and the confessor?

I’m wondering about the issues that we consider “sin” … what are they? Most often they are the things that hurt one another. There are the various lists in the Bible … the big 10, and the issues laid out by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. Interestingly, Jesus focuses on ideas and words, and I harken back to that childhood nursery rhyme, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.” This called out to dull the effect of name-calling and bullying in the schoolyard. We all grow up and begin to understand that words can hurt … they cut deeper than any knife and the pain can last a lifetime. I think this is what Jesus is speaking to in his instructions to the adulterer and murder in the Sermon on the Mount … just thinking about a woman in lust is leaving your wife and simply thinking about a person less than you is committing murder. Think deeply about those two concepts for a moment. Stop right here and do that. If you keep reading, I’ll walk you through it. If you are so certain that another person is alien enough to be called a fool, then they are “other” enough to be killed and you may as well have committed the act itself. Once you have degraded another person to the level of fool in your mind, you have become capable of killing them. That is the logic of Jesus. Now think about how we hear the likes of Hitler, Stalin and other military leaders speak of the “enemy” … the logic of Jesus makes eminent sense.

So, why do we have such a problem with the in-between times? Why don’t we want to walk with the hurting? We all love a great freedom story, but we don’t like the underground railroad. We don’t want to walk the thousand miles with the slaves to freedom, we just want to get there … as if beamed up by Scotty on the USS Enterprise. No mis-steps in between, no muddy swamps, no hard cold forest floors slept in, no musty moldy hay ricks, no cramped attic spaces, no fear, no sweat, no losing our way because the night sky is lost in clouds, no getting caught by slave catchers … nope none of that for us … just nice and clean, “Beam me up Scotty, I’m done with that sin now, … God gave me a miracle.”

I have a theory about that … beam me up is easy. It’s immediate gratification. Our culture is famous for that. We get to eat dessert first. Our family visits to Vermont every summer from Virginia. Every summer I wish for a transporter room. But I think I wouldn’t appreciate camp nearly as much without the ten hour drive to get there … as painful as it is. Beyond the immediate gratification though lies another deeper issue. And that is that if we acknowledge to another that they struggle with an issue, we must acknowledge to ourselves that we struggle. Then we must acknowledge to others that we struggle. We must let down the facade that all is not right in our perfect world.

To step a bit further down this spiral staircase we must then acknowledge that we cannot understand another’s pain. Nor can we comprehend the grace and mercy they have extended to us. Allow me to explain. In any relationship there comes a time when the two (or more) parties come to harm. Whether it is through malice or obtuseness it matters not. There may or may not be apologies or confessions and extensions of grace and forgiveness. Over time the hurt builds on both sides. In a Jesus-following relationship there may be accusations made that include something along the lines of, “Don’t worry about the mote in my eye, worry about the log in yours.” Oh. Well. Both (or more) parties begin to feel quite put upon. Someone might say, “Can’t you extend any grace?” And it is in this instance we can see that both (or more) parties have extended quite a bit of grace and forgiveness, but none can see the totality of it. They can see the grace and mercy they have each extended, but not what has been given to them. Nor can can any of the parties understand the pain that they have all inflicted on one another, they can only comprehend their own pain.

That long dark walk on the underground railroad from slavery to freedom must be done in community. There are stops on the way. There are conductors who point out the safe havens for rest and the places which must be avoided because the hounds had been loosed. There are rare instances when Scotty (God) might beam us up, but I think S/He means for us to walk the road together, learning to live in the messy existence when it’s the journey that counts. That we learn, slowly and surely who to trust on our walk to freedom. Who can be the conductors and who are the slave catchers. Who is watching for that everpresent North Star calling out to us for freedom.

Filed under: Grace, Love Mercy, Seek Justice by threadbaresonja

This was originally posted on my home blog, Calacirian, in August 2007.

Brother Maynard did a very thorough series last week on the definition of missional. If you missed it, get a cup of coffee (or something), make sure you’ve set aside a goodly chunk of time and read through these articles (One, Two, Three, and Four). I think he totalled up the words at the end of the week to about 13,000. They’re all good, as is usual with Bro. M. And I agreed with most of what he has to say (not that what I think matters a hill of beans, mind you). But there were a couple of references to things like “our Christian heritage” and “Christendom v. post-Christendom,” that got me thinking. Not that I necessarily disagreed, but something about them made me think and ponder … hard. Here are the quotes that got me pondering:

From Sorting Missional Characteristics

Post-Christendom rather than Christian culture.

Culture is assumed to have moved on past any form of “Christian heritage” it might have had, with Christianity holding much less influence” or none at all.

Then …

From Missional Definitions: A Brief Survey

Post-Christendom: we have previously suggested that post-Christendom is more appropriately listed as nuance than as part of either of the two primary missional imperatives. Despite this, it appears fairly prominently in many or most definitions of missional church. Perhaps this is because the incarnational model of church over against an attractional one largely arises out of a response to post-Christendom, as do the very origins of the missional conversation. Having described the meaning and significance of “missional,” it can perhaps be moved to the category of missional nuance as we have discussed, but in assessing the history of the concept, we should properly note that without the realization and desire to develop a response to post-Christendom, it is likely that the reexamination of missiological method which led to the description of a missional approach may well have been deferred for a few more decades at least. I would suggest that this is the probable reason that it features so prominently, more than any other nuance.

I’ve been puzzling this through all weekend now and had some conversations with LightHusband (in my outloud voice, which always helps ). Here’s what I think I’m trying to say.

Briefly put, I’m beginning to think that this idea that our culture was once a “Christian” culture is a myth. A very dearly held myth that has some large granules of truth, but a myth nonetheless.

Here’s why I think this and why it has bearing on this discussion. For hundreds of years (about 1500 of them) there were three main entities (groups): the church, the state and the general population. Now the church and the state were quite intertwined and inter-related for much of this time. Both had great influence on the general population. Sometimes the church had more, sometimes the state. Arguably one could say that the church held sway for a greater percentage of the time than the state and that is what the Reformation was countering. There were peaks of activity during those years in which great things were done under the banner of Christ (Red Cross comes to mind). However … taken overall, I think the “church” has done some things that have influenced various aspects of our culture and so has the state. But I don’t think that the general population can be considered “Christian” or ever was. I think they went to the local church because it was required of them in the same manner that taxes were required of them and fief payments, etc. But in terms of life/heart changing Jesus-following Christianity, I would argue that the large portion of the general population of the West has never changed it’s stripe from it’s pagan years. That our “Christianity” is but a thin veneer; a social identity or label that the general population has worn.

Historically, most of the general population have considered themselves Christian because of civic/familial obligation, identity, and heritage. Membership in a “Christian church” was a prerequisite for inclusion/advancement in most public and private sectors and was a prerequisite for marriage. It was essentially the basic requirement for inclusion in Western culture. For an excellent study on the effects of living outside the church, or even within the church but outside locally recognized bounds of normal behavior read Entertaining Satan by John Putnam Demos. The result of this was not lives changed by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but a sense of moral superiority and social inclusion.

The barometer for whether or not one is a “Christian” has not been measured by the Gospel, as we might in other cultures, but by the label that we wear precisely because of our history. I would argue that that very history speaks against us. Mind you, I understand that I’m painting with a very broad brush here. There were pockets of very genuine faith here and there. There were also some episodes of extremely bad behavior on the part of the church. I’m thinking here about the papacy during the 700-1000’s and Medici dynasty, and let’s throw in the Crusades, Gallileo, Copernicus, etc. for good measure.

Simply because while there are many people out there who may wear the label of “Christian” I don’t believe that makes them one, any more than wearing the label of lawyer makes me one. I may have studied some law. I may watch a lot of Law & Order. I may deeply believe that I am a lawyer based on a lot of circumstances in my life. But … I’m still not a lawyer and just telling people that I am doesn’t make me one. What makes me a lawyer? Behaving like one (and passing a Bar exam). What makes someone a Christ-follower? Arguably behaving like one … manifesting the fruits of the spirit, desiring to live out the mission of Jesus, etc.

So. I’ve actually come to believe that parsing out post-Christendom vs. Christendom may be more important to the discussion on missional than it’s been given. I guess what I’m getting at here as I write this all out, is that I think perhaps the assessment of the attractional model of church may be too shallow. In other words, we may not be giving it it’s historical/cultural due in our attempts to change to a missional outlook. Those roots may go deeper than we think and as we attempt to move forward and away from that model, we may trip over them if we’re unaware of them. So while I think the idea of “Christendom” may be a myth … that’s the name we have given it for time immemorial, so … I think it may need to be evaluated more closely for instance, for the reasons that the attractional model of church was the primary model for so long (1700 years +/-). That period of time creates some powerful cultural mores … how will those be overcome? Will we have the patience to do so? What will the markers be?

Filed under: History, Justice by threadbaresonja