Being Attuned/In Tune

Greer took the lead in this week's lesson and showed us why Baptists believe the lay person (even if a foot doctor) can read and interpret and teach from Scripture.

The lesson was on spiritual discernment, which was loosely defined as being attuned enough to the Kingdom to recognize when things are happening.  Now, that's a pretty good definition, if you ask me.  And the examples given were the magi, the prophet Anna, and Simeon.  They were all attuned enough to the Kingdom to recognize the Christ-child.

Notice that attuned is very similar to in tune.  They sound similar, but, having the same root (tune), they can also mean similar things.

When we speak of being "attuned," we think of being in harmony, of being aware, of being at one.  When we are attuned, we hear and see and smell things that another might just miss or ignore.  There is nothing magic about being attuned; it's just something that happens over time, with work of course, the way spouses learn to read each other.  Such awareness is important, for it determines how we will act.

Now, think of how this is similar to being "in tune."  For a musician to be in tune, s/he must first develop an ear for pitch and harmony and rhythm.  A musician has to be able to hear certain things, things most of us don't even notice, which takes practice and familiarity.  And it is only when the ear is so developed that the musician can recognize when things are happening in the piece of music and act accordingly.

The point of the comparison is this: spiritual discernment is much more an art than a science.  (Recently, though, we have finally realized that science itself is much more an art than what we usually call "science.")  And, if spiritual discernment is more of an art, we need to become artists.

Greer looked at the four candles of Advent (hope, peace, joy, and love) and asked if praise wasn't the catalyst that caused them all to react.

I think he's on to something, although a legitimate question was raised as to the chicken and the egg.  Do hope, peace, joy, and love cause praise?  Or, does praise cause hope, peace, joy, and love?

The answer, I would suggest, is: Yes!

Yes, of course hope and peace and joy and love cause praise!  Yes, of course praise causes hope and peace and joy and love!

And yet there is something about praise the is central.  Something has happened in our lives and we cannot help but be grateful and thankful and full of praise.  So, each day, we awake and offer praise.  Maybe we were given hope and peace and joy and love first, but now we offer praise and thanksgiving first thing each day.  And that makes (almost) all the difference.

By remembering that which has been done, is being done, and will be done for us, we become attuned to the Kingdom.  We set our minds on the Kingdom and we hear its tune, its melody, its rhythm.  And, as we listen for the Kingdom's tune, we adjust ourselves accordingly and go out into the world in the tune of the Kingdom.

Developing an ear, an eye, a nose for the Kingdom will provide the horizon in which we live, toward which we must live.

It's more of an art than it is a science.

But it's crucial that we develop the art of recognition, for we cannot act if we cannot see or hear or think it.  It takes a certain training to see the a man left for dead on the side of the road, which is why most would just pass on by--all except for the Samaritan we call "good."  It takes a certain understanding to see the Messiah in a child, but that is what Simeon and Anna saw.  It takes some subtle discernment to distinguish between Neptune in the night sky and whatever that star in the East was, but the magi understood.

These are some of the great artists of Scripture and their stories belong to the pages of art history.  Let us study their stories, so as to learn what it means to see and hear and taste and touch the Kingdom, to be attuned to the Kingdom, to be in tune with the Kingdom.

May we be artists, beginning each day with praise.

May we be artists, bringing hope, the key of the Kingdom, into a hopeless world.

May we be artists, bringing peace, the harmony of the Kingdom, into a violent world.

May we be artists, bringing joy, the refrain of the Kingdom, into a world of sorrow and unrest.

May we be artists, bringing love, the rhythm of the Kingdom, into a world that needs it so.

It's Good To Have Depth

Ask any sports fan and you'll find out that having the most talented player won't guarantee success.  You need talent, but you also need role players and a strong bench.  Success depends upon both talent and depth.

Now, we Baptist folk believe in depth.  It's something we like to call the priesthood of all believers.  The priesthood of all believers is a pretty self-explanatory phrase that simply means that all of us are priests, ministers, leaders.

I've been thinking about this central Baptist tenant a lot lately.  The economy has been wreaking havoc all over and the church has not been immune.  But my thoughts have not been centered on our lack of resources, but rather on the resources that are not currently being utilized.  Specifically, I'm thinking about our responsibility to be priests.

You have to blame (or credit) Greer for getting the wheels turning in my head.  He said something about getting the advertising folks to create uplifting ads for churches and synagogues and mosques and freethinkers, etc, just for one year, during the holidays rather than promote consumerism.  And I got to thinking that we have plenty of talent within the church already, so why would we look elsewhere?

And so I sent Greer an email, basically noting some of the great talent we have at FBC.  For example, look at the great talents already being put to use in our church: the artistic/design talents (Jo, Glenna, Ann, Rebecca, Teresa etc), the theological talents (Aliou), the financial talents (Glenn, Kelton), the leadership talents (Mark, Bobby, etc) the musical talents (where to begin?), the talents to work with young people (again, where to begin?).

We are blessed with so much talent, as are other congregations.  When will we begin to more fully utilize such wealth?  We've already begun to see our pastor and some other dedicated workers take on the task of painting and renovating the gym.  And I can't think of a better example of what it means to be Baptist.  But we need others to follow the lead.

Why hire someone to do a job we can do ourselves?  It's good to have a leader, someone to guide and inspire.  But, when it comes down to it, we have to get our hands dirty.

When times were good, it was easy to just shell out some cash to fix a problem.  (Well, we were fortunate that it was easy for some, even if not for all.)  Those times are gone.  The upside, though, is that we're learning on the job about what it means to be one of those strange folks called Baptists.

And so I told Greer that, rather than find outside help, we should get the folks in the church with the necessary talents and see what we could do.  That's our job, by the way.  And, then, we could call up the Baptists down the street (and the Episcopals and the Presbyterians and the Methodists and the Congregationalists and the Disciples and whoever else) to see if they had any talents that could be put to use.

That's not an original idea, by the way; it's as old as the church.  Out of necessity, but I think also out of commitment, the early church was DIY.  Baptists, also out of both necessity and commitment, picked up this DIY theme again.  And, today, out of both necessity and commitment, the First Baptist Church of Memphis is becoming a DIY congregation more and more.

So, what are your talents?  In what ways can you serve?

In the coming year, think about these things and find a place of service.  We need talent, yes.  But, remember, a successful team has solid role players and a strong bench.  You don't have to be the best player on the court to make a significant impact on the game.

Easter Faith On Christmas Day

Advent is coming to an end, but a new journey awaits.  And we, like the magi, look to the rising star in the East to guide our way.

But where does the star lead us?

Follow the star through the darkness and you will find an eclipse, says a former professor, Richard F. Wilson, in the sermon "Eclipse" from his collection entitled Rhythms.  And so it is that the light emanating from the star is finally eclipsed by the darkness that occurs at the cross, a darkness that Wilson notes is all the more dark because of the light provided by the star.

Are we ready to welcome the child in the manger as the man who, on the cross, exclaims: My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?  Is our hope, the hope of Advent and Christmas, forsaken on the cross with the (forsaken) one in whom our hope lies?  Will our Christmas faith survive the darkness of the so-called "Good" Friday?  And, as we welcome our Coming Lord, are we prepared to follow his path to the cross and the death that comes his way?

In another sermon, "Living East of Eden," Wilson says that our lives are haunted by two unavoidable truths, truths he finds in Fiddler on the Roof as much as in the words of Scripture.  The first is that "[o]ur lives are defined by their horizons;" the second that "our lives are mixtures of joys and sorrows."

Our common horizon as humans, says Wilson, is that we live east of Eden.  But he argues on biblical grounds that living east of Eden is not a bad thing, that Eden and east of Eden are really not that different, that Eden is not the grand Paradise it is made out to be--if you read the text itself.

Eden, he says, in addition to being the place where life began, was also "where relationships were made and broken, where temptation to sin was met and embraced, where judgment was pronounced, and where forgiveness was offered and accepted."  Not so different from our world, right?  And, besides, the one we welcome tomorrow was born and lived east of Eden.

Wilson continues by noting how God's purpose for humanity does not change as we move eastward.  Compare Genesis 2.15 with 3.23 and you will find that God's purpose is ever the same: "to till the ground," to live and work productively in God's good creation.  So Wilson understands Eden "as much a place of preparation as ... a Paradise."

And as to humanity's flight from Eden, rather than letting the second mention (God driving humanity out in 3.24) govern the first mention (God sending humanity out in 3.23), Wilson chooses to have the first mention dictate what it means to leave Eden.  God driving out the sinful humans seems like something straight out of Jonathan Edwards, as if humanity were "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God."  Humanity as "'sent forth ... to till the ground' sounds like missionary talk to me," offers Wilson--and you get the feeling that he is at least a little bit excited by the notion of being sent with a purpose by a loving Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer.

To tie the two sermons together, let us consider our horizons as ones who eagerly await the coming of Mary's magnificent child and begin the journey to follow him to the cross.  Our horizons are Christmas, on the one hand, and Easter, on the other.  They are inextricably linked, so that you cannot have one without the other.  And, together, they define our life as the church, the ones who gather together in the name of the one who is born on Christmas and who is risen on Easter.

But we cannot have Christmas without Advent, just as we cannot have Easter without Lent and Good Friday.

And so, here we are, at the dusk of Advent, following the star, seeking to "live toward," to quote Wilson, the horizon that is Christmas.  It is here, in the "midnight brightness," following the star to the Christ-child, that our Easter faith begins.  As is life in general, this Advent has been a mixture of joy and sorrow; Christmas will be the same.  Christmas is, like Eden, often portrayed as some perfect and peaceful Paradise.  Yet, get a little closer to the manger and you will see cries of agony alongside the cries of celebration.

In mere hours now, we will gather around the manger and proclaim--no, exclaim--"Emmanuel, God With Us!"  We will then begin a new journey, as we seek to "live toward" our other horizon, Easter, following the star from the East that lights the way to the Christ.  Again, our path will be met with both joys and sorrows.  And we will have to hear the cry of the babe-turned-man: My God, my God, why have Thou forsaken me?

As Wilson observes, such a cry sends a chill down our collective spine, and even down God's very own spine, the way a shadow from a sudden cloud brings a chill in springtime, "reminding us that winter is not completely gone."  Such is Good Friday, when the star is eclipsed and we stand in the shadow of the cross, where our Easter faith begins again, with hope that a new day will dawn.

Are we ready for a new journey, the journey toward the cross?  We don't have long to prepare, for Christmas is coming, bringing life and bringing our Lord.  Come, Lord Jesus!

Come, Lord Jesus, indeed.  But, with his coming, we will then be sent forth with a purpose, the same purpose humanity has ever had: to till the ground.

May we, like the magi, follow the star to Jesus, the Christ.  And may we travel together, so that the chill won't be as bad when the cross finally eclipses the star.

Come, Lord Jesus.  Come now, as Christmas approaches.  Come now, as the cross has even now already eclipsed the star.  Come now, as Christmas and Easter become one hope, the hope for our Coming Lord.  Come now, we pray.

Amen.

Magnificat

Today's lesson from the Gospels comes from Luke.  It is Mary's song, known as the Magnificat, one of the most familiar texts in Christian tradition.  (For what it's worth, it is called the Magnificat because that is the first word of the Latin text.)  And, although we could discuss what it means know and what it meant then, I think it would be best to just read it.

My soul magnifies the Lord, 
   and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, 
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
   Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
   and holy is his name. 
His mercy is for those who fear him
   from generation to generation. 
He has shown strength with his arm;
   he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
   and lifted up the lowly; 
he has filled the hungry with good things,
   and sent the rich away empty. 
He has helped his servant Israel,
   in remembrance of his mercy, 
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
   to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.

@firstresponses

We here at first responses are now on Twitter (@firstresponses, or http://twitter.com/firstresponses).

Nothing about this blog will change (except the addition of a Twitter Update section), but we do invite you to join not only us but many in our church family and surrounding community on Twitter.

World AIDS Day

Our church was in the news last week.

For ten years now, First Baptist has been participating in World AIDS Day.

Of course, it is a little unusual for a church (and a Baptist church at that) to get involved in HIV/AIDS.  But FBC is not your average church, and certainly not your average Baptist church in the south.

Ten years ago, a man working for Friends for Life had an idea.  He wanted to use the median on East Parkway at the corner of Poplar, directly in front of FBC, to place a memorial to those who had died from HIV/AIDS.  As a courtesy, he contacted the church to ask if there would be a problem.

Understand, this was a gay man with AIDS who grew up in the south, so there was every reason to suspect that it might indeed be a problem.  This man had had his fill of churches and church folk.

Well, a funny thing happened on the way to the memorial.  The pastor of FBC at the time welcomed the idea and even volunteered the church's front lawn.  Several years later, the predominately white FBC reached across the street to the Greater Lewis Street Missionary Baptist Church, a predominately African-American congregation.  And the two churches, different in many ways, have made it a joint event ever since.

And so it is that, each year around December 1, you will find white stakes with red ribbons, nearly 3,000 of them now, on opposite corners of Poplar and Parkway, in remembrance of those who have lost the battle with HIV/AIDS in Shelby County since 1985.  Why 1985, you ask?  That's when they began counting.

Here are two articles about this year's ceremony:

http://www.abpnews.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=4600&Itemid=53

http://www.commercialappeal.com/news/2009/dec/03/names-remind-us-of-aids-real-cost/

Connected

We're back, after a long haitus.

It is the busy season again.  Already, there have been parties and parties and more parties, not to mention shopping and decorating and cooking and...It makes me tire just thinking about it.

But this is also the Advent season, the time when we prepare for the birth of Jesus, our Coming Lord.  As we prepare to welcome him, we rightly welcome friends and family into our houses, exchanging gifts, practicing hospitality.

As we go about this busy season, though, let us also rest.  Our hearts are restless until they rests in Thee, O God, said St. Augustine.  Let us rest, and not be restless, by centering our busy-ness around the God who is busy making all things new.  And, in the process, may we be made new.

Our focus should not be on trying to outdo our neighbors, flaunting the extravagances we can afford (although I certainly enjoy those types of parties).  Rather, our focus, as followers of Christ, should be on friendship and hospitality and love.  Indeed, our focus should be on extending our friendship, our hospitality, our love to those who may not receive such gifts.  The same Jesus we prepare to welcome taught us to do so.

We are connected to our God and to each other.  During Advent, think of ways to extend such wonderful connections to the disconnected, the unconnected, the ones who don't even know they are not connected.

We are preparing for the birth of Jesus.  But, remember, Just as you did to the least of these who are in my family, so you did for me, says the very same Jesus.

Unchain America!

Become Unchained on November 21.

Support your locally owned and operated businesses and help unchain our nation.  Start now, before the holiday season is in full swing, and continue to buy local all through the year.

Remember, when you shop local, more of your money stays local.

One of the greatest things about Midtown Memphis is the large number of local businesses.  So, on November 21, let them know they are valued.

For more information, visit the American Independent Business Alliance (AMIBA).

All Saints

With this past Sunday being All Saints Day, now is a good time to recommend a blog devoted to telling the stories of the saints of the church.

The blog is called Telling the Stories That Matter.  It has enriched my lifeover the past few months, as I have read the stories of saints from all over the world and throughout history.

Some of these stories I've heard before, while others are new to me.  Either way, though, all are insightful and provide concrete examples of faithful living.  And that's just what we need from the saints, examples of how to live more faithfully.  The saints are role models who enlarge our understanding of how to live our lives.

As Hauerwas and Willimon note in Resident Aliens, "One role of the saints is to present us with a wider array of ethical possibilities than we would have had if left to our own devices" (102).  What this means is that we often get stuck in doing what we always do.  When this happens, the saints are there to provide examples that break the mold of the status quo.  They provide new insights, or old insights forgotten.  And they show us how to make it through tough times.

We discussed this on Sunday.  What a resource we have in the older members of our congregation!  This is not the first financial crisis they've been in, this is not the first loved one they've lost--so, let's listen to the stories of how they made it through before.

However, maybe the old ways don't always work.  When that's the case, the older members can look to us for new ways to approach situations, or simply ways to approach new situations, for there are some areas in which younger generations have more experience.

In short, let us look to each other, young and old.  And let us not forget the grand tapestry that is our ancestry, those saints who have gone before us.  This is what the Communion of Saints (or Communio Sanctorum) is all about.

On Eternal Life

The sermon text this morning was from Mark 10, where the rich young ruler approaches Jesus.

The question he asks, What must I do to inherit eternal life?, is a strange question on a few levels.

First of all, as David noted this morning, there is something of a paradox, a bit of irony, here.  An inheritance is not something earned, but something given.  And, usually, an inheritance is a given according to the family bloodline.  So, how do you earn an inheritance?  Well, you "earn" an inheritance by the simple fact that you are born into a family.

But, as the text was read, I noticed something I had apparently always overlooked: what the man wants to inherit is eternal life.  What does it mean to inherit eternal life?  Is that something that can be passed down to the next of kin?  Well, I don't know anything about eternal life, but I don't think my parents can pass it along to me with they die.

At any rate, David both appreciated the question asked and noted that it wasn't really a question that people today ask all that often.

*

And, bear with me, but the whole deal about eternal life always gets under my skin a bit anyway.  There are a great many folks who would be mighty disappointed if they died and found out there is no eternal life, no heaven.  It's something our churches have stressed so much that people expect it, demand it even.  Their entire life revolves around the idea that there is another life beyond this one, often to the detriment of this world.

Well, I would not deny that idea, but I also don't usually put much thought into it.  I would not be disappointed if there is no afterlife, because eternal life is, for me, a blessed hope, not an expectation.  It is something about which to rejoice, but not to demand.

When we start thinking about eternal life, it is hard not to start concentrating on it.  And it is hard not to try to earn it, to think of it as a reward, to think we deserve it (or to think someone else doesn't!).  On the other hand, if we can't earn it, then it's hard not to use it as an excuse or a crutch.  Either way, it's hard not to use the idea as a trump card, the ultimate trump card, that we can pull out to remind ourselves (and others!) that we will be the Winners in the end.

In short, the whole idea starts to muddy our motives and questions the sincerity of our actions.  And that's why I ("I, not the Lord," to quote Paul) think it best to leave eternal life to the realm of hope and get on with living and loving, here and now.

Is that wrong?

*

In other words, I think there is a good reason people today don't ask the question the rich young ruler asks.

People today are sick and tired of all this talk about heaven (and hell)...and for good reason.  They've been told their whole lives that they need to do this (and not that), believe that (and not this), to get to heaven (and avoid hell).  They've been threatened with hell and then offered the "get out of hell free" card.

People today look around at all the suffering in the world, at all the suffering in their lives.  And they ask, What do heaven and hell have to do with this?  What does eternal life have to do with suffering now?

The only world they know is the world in which they live, the world of here and now, so they are right to ask where we get off talking about some distant afterlife when there are real people in need today.

People today, I think, are more concerned with "our daily bread" than they are with eternal life.

Is that a bad thing?

Praying Twice

"He who sings prays twice."

So goes a quote from Saint Augustine, a good quote for this morning's couple share with Ray and Trudy.  And I think we can extend singing to include music in general.

Trudy, of course, is a wonderful vocalist, a true blessing to have at FBC.  Ray, the most joyful Minister of Music (and Administration, we learned this morning), is more talented as an instrumentalist and composer.  Not only are they each supremely talented, but they are even better as a team.  And anyone who has heard "This I Know" (or any number of songs) can attest to this.

He who sings prays twice, wrote Augustine.  But that's not quite right, for it is incomplete because, when Trudy sings, when Ray plays or composes or directs, we all join the prayer.

We pray in thanksgiving for their gifts, but we are also lifted into prayer by their gifts, as God uses their gifts to help us worship.

And, for that, as well as for them, we say: Thanks be to God.

The Table Tells The Tale

This past Sunday was, like every first Sunday in October, World Communion Sunday.

World Communion Sunday is exactly what it sounds like: a time for the world to celebrate communion. It was started in the 1930s by the Presbyterians and soon spread to other branches of the church. If only for a day, Christians around the world put aside their differences to partake in a common meal. May the meal remind us that we are one in Christ Jesus.

Our pastor put it nicely, reminding us that the Table lets us know that we are not alone, that we have a family, that we have a home. The Table does not belong to us, but to God, which is why we receive rather than take the meal. Yet, God's Table is bigger than we know. Thus, the sermon's title: A Big Table.

Yet, I believe the sermon could (should?) have been titled, The Table Tells The Tale. At the end of the sermon, after describing God's Big Table, we were asked to think about how we define family because we eat with our family. In essence, he was asking what walls we erect around the Table, for, although it is really God's Table, we try to control who has access.

We can talk a good talk and we can say anyone is welcome around the Table. But, really, is anyone welcome? If so, why don't we mix it up on World Communion Sunday and gather together with those of other traditions? If so, why is it that we are the most segregated at 11am on Sunday morning? If anyone is welcome, why do we not reach out to those long-lost kinfolk, the ones with whom we haven't spoken in years, if ever?

When it comes to assessing our sense of hospitality, a good place to look is around the Table. How welcoming are we?

The Table tells the tale.

Shared Responsibilities

In church, we often speak of sharing or bearing each other's burdens.

Generally, we mean by this that we help each other out in times of need. For example, we visit those in the hospital or we provide meals for those dealing with hards times or we pray for each other.

That's an important part of what it means to be the church, no doubt about it. Yet, we have other burdens. And those burdens need to be shared as well.

I'm thinking, in particular, of the burden or responsibility to read and interpret Scripture. This is a burden for each of us, even if it is a burden we gladly accept. Either way, it is a burden that must be shared. And one of the great sins of what is called the Protestant Reformation is that individuals came to think that they did not need each other or the church to understand Scripture.

It is a good thing for individuals to read and interpret Scripture, to seek to apply it to their lives, but there are voices within the text to which, for whatever reason, we are deaf. Those voices need to be heard.

Contrary to what Greer likes to say sometimes, somewhat in jest, the way to hear those other voices is not to earn a degree from a seminary. Trust me on that one. I've been to seminary and I can tell you that I know folks with nothing more than an 8th grade education who have more insight into the Bible than some of best and brightest seminary folk, student or faculty. Rather, the way to hear those voices is to read Scripture together as the church and to listen to one another.

This morning, for example, our text touched on the healing of a leper. And, in our midst, we had two people with experience with leprosy. Bill H had encountered lepers growing up in Africa. And Greer had actually spent time at a facility for lepers in Louisiana, alongside the top leprosy researcher of the 20th century.

Now, I'm here to tell you that no formal theological training will provide those voices. Those voices only come from experience. And my experience renders me deaf to that, so it's a good thing we have folks like Bill and Greer in our midst.

This is a common experience.

I was once interviewed for a job teaching at a private, Christian, high school. I was asked my thoughts on female ministers. The answer I gave was that no man can preach about Eve, Ruth and Naomi, Mary (any of the Mary's), the Whore of Babylon, or any of those women whose names have been lost to history (so and so's wife)--no man can preach about these women from the perspective of a woman. That's not to say a man can't bring insight, but a man doesn't have the lived experience of a woman. And, because of that, I need women to bring that perspective to the text. (Needless to say, I didn't get the job.)

Take some time to think about the voices to which you are deaf. Granted, we are deaf to some voices because they we don't even know about them, which is another reason we need each other. But there are some voices to which we are deaf because we don't want to hear them. Reflect on those voices and ask for ears to hear.

Take some time, also, to think about the voices you hear that others don't. Be thankful, but also remember that we have the responsibility to share those voices with each other. If you have ears to hear and we are deaf to that voice, then you have the burden of being the voice to the voiceless for us. We are counting on you. We need you.

Lectio Divina Insight

I am not sure how many people read the comments section under the First Responses posts, which is why I am posting Maria's insightful reply to the post on Lectio Divina here as a new post. I hope you don't mind, Maria!

Lectio Divina can also be done in a small group. I once experienced this with the Dominican Sisters. Someone read the passage aloud slowly, and then we observed a period of silence for individual reflection/meditation. Then each person, if she wished, may share something that stood out for her. Another person then read the same passage again aloud slowly, and the process repeated. We read the passage three times, and continued with reflection and sharing each time. There was much silence and pauses throughout the process. It was interesting how the same passage may have quite different message to each person. At the end we ended with prayer. There was a leader who gently facilitated through it. I personally felt it was a refreshing experience.

Lectio Divina at first may seem like an abstract, mystical practice that is hard to grasp, but I think we just have to start with baby steps. Like any meditation practice, it ushers us to into a slower rhythm than we normally used to. I have a hard time with it because, by myself, I have a tendency to want to get through the passage as quickly as possible, like reading any other book, then search in my head whatever clever insight I can come up with on my own, instead of really just sitting with the text and ruminate on it. At times things would just flow out of me, and I knew it was really the Holy Spirit, but that doesn't happen all the time, or even most of the time, I think. It takes discipline to quiet down my own thoughts. I find that it helps to just focus on the phrase/words that stood out for me, and keep them in mind as I go on through the rest of the day. Sometimes those text take on new meaning when seen in the context of a daily situation. I think that's the transformative element that JB mentioned.

Thanks for the insight, Maria!

Does anyone else have experience with this practice and have insights to share? Has anyone attempted this practice since Carol mentioned it last week?

Strange Behavior of Jesus for $400

If you have even just flipped through the Gospels, you know that Jesus engages in some pretty strange behavior at times.

And, lest you start throwing stones, that is not necessarily bad. Strange behavior can certainly be bad, but it can just as easily seem strange because we lack understanding.

One area where there is a general lack of understanding is Scripture, which is why we need each other so much. It is also the reason the responsibility of each of us to read and interpret Scripture is so vital, as is our shared responsibility to engage in honest dialogue about the meaning of the text. We were reminded of this today in Connect4, as we discussed the first chapter of the Gospel called Mark.

The question raised was why Jesus opts to leave town, rather than stay and continue healing the sick. There are all these people with needs. And, judging from the previous day, Jesus has the ability to provide healing. He gets up early in the morning and goes off by himself. After a while, the disciples come looking for him, telling him of all the people seeking his assistance. And how does he respond? He says, "Peace. I'm out of here." (loose translation)

Now, I am no Biblical scholar, but my educational background is in the study of Scripture and theology--and I would never have come up with the response Greer offered this morning.

Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.

Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

So goes the ancient proverb. Applied to our text, Jesus was trying to balance the dual aspects of his ministry, the teaching/preaching side and the healing side.

The general consensus is that Jesus had to get away from the mob of people seeking healing. But this only gets half of the point. The other half is the part about the teaching/preaching.

Greer said, or at least suggested, that all the healing would limit the ability of Jesus to teach the people and preach the good news, that the message would get lost in all the healing, that the people would demand healing in lieu of all the talking.

And maybe, just maybe, that's why he had to move on. It's possible that a certain point is reached where the healing ministry begins to distract from the message of God's love.

Lectio Divina

Sunday, we were introduced to another spiritual practice from our ancient Christian heritage.

The spiritual practice this week was Lectio Divina, which is Latin for "divine reading." It is a way of prayerfully engaging the words of Scripture. Known mainly as a monastic tradition, it is a practice that can benefit us all.

There are four stages of Lectio Divina: Lectio, Meditatio, Oratio, and Contemplatio.

1. Lectio is the reading stage, where a short passage of Scripture is read slowly and intentionally. The text is read a few times, letting the words sink into the self. This is like taking a bite of Scripture.
2. Meditatio is a time of reflection, an openness to the guidance of the Spirit as we think about the meaning of the text. This is like chewing the bite of Scripture taken in the first stage.
3. Oratio is when we respond to the text by opening the self to God's presence. Here, thinking stops, as our heart enters into communion with the divine. This is a somewhat mystical stage that is like savoring the taste and source of the bite of Scripture taken.
4. Contemplatio is a time of rest, when we let go, not only of worldly things, but also of our spiritual thoughts and aspirations. Here, we rest in the presence of God in Scripture and within the self. Here, we allow the Spirit transform us as we rest. This is like the bite of Scripture taken being digested and integrated into the body.

After these four stages, we re-enter the world, transformed and nourished for the work of the day.

World Veggie Day

Today, 1 October, is World Vegetarian Day.

Now, although I am not a vegetarian, I do think there are several aspects of vegetarianism that should be considered by us carnivores. And today is the day set aside for just that purpose.

First, consider that meat was not allowed in the Bible until several chapters into Genesis. At first, humans were only allowed to eat of the earth (Gen 2.9, 16). Animals, meanwhile, were for other purposes, originally that of a possible partner or companion (Gen 2.18-20). It is not until after the Flood that God allows humans to eat meat (Gen 9.3-5).

Second, consider that it takes more land, resources, and money to produce meat than it does to produce vegetables. Simply put, the animals must be fed something and they must be able to roam. The food fed to the animals we eat could be fed to hungry people and the land used for roaming/grazing could be used to grow more crops. Did you know that it takes 16 pounds of grain, on average, to produce 1 pound of meat? (Lappe, Diet for a Small Planet, page 9) Vegetarianism is just a more efficient use of resources.

Third, consider how meat is produced these days. Eric Schlosser revealed "the dark side of the American meal," a phrase that serves as the subtitle of his horrifyingly informative Fast Food Nation. Is the luxury of eating meat worth the pain and cruelty it causes?

Finally, consider all the extra greenhouse gasses produced by meat consumption, most notably methane. Read here if you are interested in that.

The Examen

We missed Greer this week, but Carol did a fine job holding down the fort by herself--with the help of a wonderful discussion by the class, of course.

She introduced The Examen to us, which is an old "tradition within the church of reviewing the day and reflecting on that which has not brought wholeness."

A little history is that it is actually called The Examen of Consciousness and comes from the Jesuit (or, Society of Jesus) tradition founded by St Ignatius of Loyola in the sixteenth century.

Examining the Examen

The Examen has no formal rules, per se, but it is recommended to be done twice each day. Additionally, there are five basic guidlines:

1. Recall/acknowledge that you are in the presence of God. You are creature, surrounded by creation, in the presence of the Creator. Feel the presence of God around you and within you. Reflect on the creating, sustaining, redeeming, and re-creating presence of God.
2. Think back on your day with gratitude. In you is the Breath of Life, the holy ruach (Hebrew for wind, breath, spirit) that gives life to your body and you soul. Be thankful for for this, but also look for specific things from the day. Think of the small and simple things that often go overlooked as we await the next big thing. Remember the aroma of your morning coffee, the look on your child's face in the morning when s/he first sees you. Recall the person who smiled at you, who held the door for you, who prepared a meal for you, who helped you with a project, who said a nice word to you. And reflect on the grace that has allowed you to extend an act of kindness to another.
3. Ask the Spirit to enter you and help you to honestly examine your day. This is not an exercise meant to beat yourself up. After all, it is possible that, through the grace of God, you have been pretty faithful. At any rate, though, this is a time for growth, a time to learn from mistakes, a time to become more conscious of God's presence in our lives. Be grateful for the good done, but be mindful of the wrongs. Reflect on the context: who was around, what time of day was it, what as happening at the time? Also, try to recall your thoughts: did the act occur in an instant, or was there premeditation involved? Were you conflicted as to what to do? If so, where did the conflict lie? Be challenged, but also be encouraged and learn how to be more faithful to the God that is Love.
4. With those things that have not brought wholeness in mind, ask for forgiveness. Be honest with yourself and with God. Be aware of God's loving and redeeming presence even in our sinfulness. As Brother Will Campbell summarizes the gospel: We're all bastards, but God loves us anyway. Be grateful for that love, a love not only because of, but also in spite of.
5. Now, offer yourself to God again. This is a time to reflect on your status as one created in the image of God, as a Christ-follower, as one filled with the Spirit. Ask for the gift of sight, that you will be better able to see opportunities for the good, to see the needs of our neighbors, whether at home or at work or at church or on the street corner or on the other side of the Earth. Ask for the gift of discernment, that you may be better able to make wise and loving choices. Ask for the gift of love, so that love will guide all that you do.
6. Close, if you like (you don't have to), with the Lord's Prayer.

Thank you Carol, for reminding us of this venerable tradition of the church, one of the traditions of the Catholic Church we Protestants left in what is we like to call the Reformation, but which could also be called the Second Great Schism, the first having split the church into East (Greek/Orthodox) and West (Latin/Catholic). There are many such traditions out there still. May we learn from our Roman Catholic sisters and brothers some of these ancient ways.

Identity?

Over the past couple of weeks, our pastor has been dancing around a topic that is very interesting, but also possibly controversial.

And maybe that's why he hasn't dealt with it head-on, which is not a criticism; it may, in fact, show great wisdom. There are some issues that may be better suited for a discussion than a sermon. Plus, we must keep in mind that the sermon is for the Body.

At any rate, we can think about and discuss such topics here.

By now, you may be thinking: What is this topic?

The topic is the knowledge Jesus had of himself and his identity. More specifically, the topic is whether Jesus had to grow into this knowledge.

Last week, the sermon dealt with the Syrophoenician woman (Mark 7). It is a troubling story because Jesus calls this woman a dog, denying her request for a healing. She then responds that even the dogs get the crumbs from the table. And, as a result, Jesus has a change of heart and provides the healing.

There's no getting around the fact that, in Scripture, Jesus calls a woman a dog. And it seems as if he calls her such because of her race (e.g., her non-Jewish, or Gentile, status). As our pastor noted, many commentators try to soften this fact. But that's because they read the story from a post-Easter perspective.

Although our pastor was critical of such interpretations, he was nonetheless uncomfortable accepting the interpretation that Jesus experienced a conversion, a change of attitude, as a result of being confronted by this woman. He compared it to the baptism of Jesus, which he said was not necessary.

I happen to disagree on both points, but that's not the issue. The issue is that these are things we should be discussing in (and out of) church.

Is Jesus a static person who never changes? (Hebrews 13.8)

Or, does Jesus grow and mature over time? (Luke 2.52)

Connected to this discussion, this week the sermon dealt with the extent to which Jesus knew who he was/is, if he had doubts or questions, and how he handled this.

It revolves around a question Jesus asks: Who do you say I am?

An interesting point raised in the sermon is that Jesus may not have known, or may not have been sure, or may have been sure but had doubts, or was seeking an outside opinion. This is an interpretation Nikos Kazantzakis offers in his novel, The Last Temptation of Christ. And it is suggested again later when Jesus prays in the Garden before his execution.

Are you comfortable with a Jesus who has questions, who has doubts? Are you comfortable, in short, with a Jesus like you and me? Why, or why not?

Who am I?

The sermon this past Sunday raised several questions about identity, from the most basic to the most complex. And it is not always easy to distinguish basic and complex, especially when dealing with identity.

In Mark 8, Jesus asks, Who Do You Say I Am?

From this one question, David drew several questions for us:

• What is he asking?
• Is it a rhetorical question?
• Is Jesus seeking a second opinion?
• Is Jesus questioning himself?
• Is he assessing the disciples?
• Is Jesus assessing us?

These are all interesting questions. And who's to say that any one of these is correct. Why can't all of these questions apply? Scripture often works at different levels simultaneously. Narratives, stories like this one in Mark, especially operate that way. Any good story has more than one meaning.

Take some time to ask these questions and think about some possible answers.

Upgrades!

We have a few upgrades here at First Responses.

(#1) Some of you have already noticed the 'Social Vibe' gadget on the right column (under the reading list). This is a way for us to raise money for a designated non-profit. All you have to do is click on the gadget and view a short ad. The sponsor whose ad you viewed then donates money to your cause. You can add 'Social Vibe' to your blog, your Facebook, etc.

Children's Miracle Network was chosen for the First Responses site for several reasons. First, many of us have children. Secondly, many of us work or have ties to the medical profession. Thirdly, Memphis is known for the quality of medical care it provides to children. In other words, it just seemed like the most appropriate from the list.

Take a minute to raise money for a good cause whenever you visit First Responses, even if you don't care for the sponsor. And thanks to those who already have. We've already earned 188 baloons over the past week or so without asking.

(#2) First Responses now has its own email address. So, if you have any questions, or a comment you would rather not post on the blog, just shoot a message over to firstresponses@gmail.com and we'll get back to you as soon as possible.

(#3) As many of you know, a Gmail account provides you Google Calendar. And that is a great thing, making it easy to share dates and information. So, First Responses now has a Calendar up and open to the public. Just let us know and we can share it with you.

Upcoming events include Soccer at Evergreen Pres, the Men's Retreat, Trunk-or-Treat, and the concerts at the Levitt Shell.

Monkin' It Up!

We had a great time at the Levitt Shell last night. If you missed it, that's too bad. But you'll have to join us for some of the upcoming shows.

Last night, Lily Afshar opened on the classical guitar, setting the contempletive mood for the Tibetan monks who followed. The monks were great, beginning their set meditatively with some multiphonic chanting...

...and then increasing their energy as the sun went down. By nightfall, they were performing traditional dances, including the Dance of the Black Hat Masters and, everyone's favorite, the Snow Lion Dance (the last couple minutes are the best):

They took a break for intermission and picked right up where they left off, with more sacred music and sacred dance. The Dance of the Skeleton Lords and the Dance of the Space Travellers were fun, but our family had to get our (sleeping) son home and missed the Yak Dance. I did find a video, though:

All in all, a great time for all! Come out and join us next time, won't you?

Here's some extra video of the Mystical Arts of Tibet:

Spit!

In Mark 7.31-37, half of our sermon text this morning, Jesus uses his spit to heal a man. He does this elsewhere as well.

That's pretty gross, right?

Well, does spit offend you? If spit is gross, does Jesus gross you out? What if the spit belongs to Jesus, is being used by Jesus to provide healing? If that changes things, why? And, what would you think of someone today walking around and doing the same?

Just asking.

PR?

Sometimes Jesus was great at promoting his ministry, like when he fed the multitude. If you were his PR rep, moments like that would have made your job a breeze. He had a large and hungry crowd, but he takes care of them. A PR rep wouldn't have to spin that or seek the attention of the people.

On the other hand, there were other moments that would just drive you mad. Take today's sermon text, Mark 7.24-37, where Jesus tries to hide his healings. That's when a PR rep would take Jesus out back and give him a good talking-to.

What do we make of this? Do we promote the good things our church is doing? Or do we let our deeds speak for themselves and spread through word of mouth?

I really don't know--and it's rare for me not to have a hard opinion.

So, what do you think?

How Do You Get By? What Are Your Causes?

Bill and Teresa have been through their fair share of issues and more. Breast cancer, kidney disease, organ transplant, to name a few.

How do you get by? is/was a common question. You do what you do, said Bill.

God only gives you the problems you have the strength to handle, several told them. Well, I don't want any more strength, Bill responded in commendable honesty.

They had a great support system in the church and in the community. I don't know what people do without a church, noted Teresa.

They were able to come out the other side able and willing to give back. And what had been their greatest problems have turned into some of the great passions of their lives.

What are the greatest problems and the greatest passions of your life? You have a support system at FBC. Are you ready to transform your problems into your passions? Let us help in the process and let your problem/passion be our problem/passion.

Hospitality

Thi and Pacher gave a report last night (Wednesday) about the ministry First Laotian Baptist has been doing with the refugees in our backyard. It was a moving testimony of how God is working.

Love God by Loving People, Thi stated, restating 'the Greatest Commandment,' which says that the Law and the Prophets can be summed up by the double command to love God and to love our neighbor (Matthew 22.36-40).

We've been there, Thi said, quite literally referring to the struggles of the Laotian families when they came to America--and specifically to Memphis--as refugees.

And you helped us, he continued, referring to how First Laotian started as an outreach to the Laotian refugee community. Pacher emphasized this point, recalling her family's experience.

We want to help them like you helped us, he said, asking for any assistance we could provide in the process.

These are our neighbors, Pacher stressed. There's a huge language barrier, but we speak the language of love.

It was so moving that two members of our congregation went to the apartment complex at which the refugees are staying last night.

You can help--and, if fact, many of us already have. But the needs are great. And the needs are as follows:

• transportation (if you can volunteer to drive people to the store, or if you have an extra vehicle to be shared among the families),
• employment (if you know of any jobs that are available for those with limited English language skills),
• clothes (if you have any extra clothes, from newborn up to adult),
• baby/children's items (if you have any surplus items, the need here is large),
• Refugee Empowerment Program volunteers (if you can tutor children with their schoolwork, or be an assistant for an adult English class).

God With Us?

Almighty God, to You all hearts are open, all desires known, and from You no secrets are hidden. Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of You Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love You, and worthily magnify Your holy name, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Those are the words we pray together each week at FBC before the pastor's sermon. We call it the 'Prayer of Preparation' because it helps prepare us to receive the kerygma (Greek for 'proclamation, announcement, preaching') of the church.

Many of us do not know the origins of this prayer, which has nonetheless become very familiar over the years. It was written by St John Chrysostom, one of the great Greek Fathers of the Church. He lived during the last half of the 4th century, was appointed (against his will) Archbishop of Constantinople, and was/is famous for his preaching.

The elegant words of John Chrysostom brought this response from our pastor on Sunday: "God is with us and our only prayer is that we listen up."

Listen, we shall. And, listen, we are already. These are exciting times at FBC, as we are reaching out to our neighbors in need of a hand and our neighbors in need of a church family--and some need both.

God is at work. Won't you join in what God is already doing?

**NOTE**

The Prayer of Preparation was originally written in Latin as:

Deus, cui omne cor patet et omnis uoluntas loquitur, et quem nullum latet secretum: purifica per infusionem Sancti Spiritus cogitationes cordis nostri, ut perfecte te diligere et digne laudare mereamur, per Dominum nostrum Iesum Christum. Amen.

No Reservations?

During their couple share this morning, Richard said something about responding to God's call that made us all laugh, even as I think it may have made us all feel a bit guilty.

What he said was this: 'I can't do this because I'm not coming here!' He was wrestling with God's calling on his life when he visiting a certain place in Mississippi, a place very different than the part of Mississippi where he was raised. And that's when he realized that he had certain reservations about responding to God's call.

Thank you, Richard, for being so honest with us. We are glad you didn't resist the call that brought you to Memphis.

But the question for your thoughts is this: what are your reservations? Is there somewhere you wouldn't go if God called? Is there something you wouldn't do for God? Are there certain people with and for whom you would not want to work?

And why?

Just Getting By

An interesting point was made this morning during the Connect4 couple share.

It can be boiled down to this question: do you live your life with a purpose, or are you just getting by?

The point was made discussing a book about raising children, but could apply to life in general, especially during such trying times as the one in which the current economic situation has placed so many of us.

So, how are you living? Is there a larger purpose that governs your life, that holds you accountable, that provides you with perspective? Or, are you just getting by?

I am reminded of a point an old professor often made, contrasting purpose and plan.

If you have a plan (a specific means and ends), what happens if the planned path closes? For example, if you plan to drive to Nashville on I-40, what happens if, for whatever reason, they block the interstate? You're up the creek if you have time constraints. The end goal of your plan is thwarted just because you haven't allowed room for adjustments.

This is how it is when you're just getting by, when you're so focused on the here and now that you lose sight of the bigger picture.

If, rather than focusing on the plan, you focus on the purpose (a specific ends, but not means), you can make adjustments. If your purpose is to get to Nashville, you can take any number of roads to get there. If there is a roadblock, it doesn't matter so much. You could get off the beaten path and enjoy the scenery. And maybe you were meant to take the long way, to see the small towns between here and there, to experience something other than the interstate, which is pretty much the same all over.

When you have a purpose, you may have a plan as well, but you also have backup plans that can get you where you need to be. Remember, the plan isn't the goal, but what gets you to the goal; the goal is your destination.

The Impossible

David spoke this morning about kindness and forgiveness. These are difficult things that often are simplified into simplistic notions like being nice and tolerant and accepting. Yet, being nice and tolerant and accepting do not require much of us. In fact, we can be nice and tolerant and accepting by just not caring one way or another, by being apathetic, by merely ignoring others.

The biblical notion, by contrast, is quite demanding. John Caputo, drawing on Jacques Derrida, has even called it impossible (or the im-possible). By that he means we can never completely get outside of the circle of exchange, of reciprocity, because gifts form a circular economy.

When you forgive me, I am then indebted to you, which really cancels the act of forgiveness. So, I try to do something for you, which then puts you in debt to me. And so on. In short, a chain is formed. (Incidentally, the French for gift, cadeau, is actually derived from the the word for chain, catena.)

The problem is this: we are stuck between the world of forgiveness and the world of economics. We can't choose one or the other, but have to negotiate the space in between. We can't simply get outside of give and take, of reciprocity, just as we can never reach the act of pure forgiveness.

But that's okay.

We can't get outside the circle of reciprocity, but we can expand and widen its boudaries. We can bust through the perimeter, if only for an instant, before it closes back up again. Yet, it never closes the same way twice. Rather, each time we bust it open, we force its radius outward, thus creating a larger and more inclusive circle.

The point becomes twofold. We must forgive, but remember that forgiveness cancels itself out and so never actually is. And we must have economy, the circle of exchange and reciprocity, but don't let the circle close too tightly.

May the impossible drive us, let it be our passion. May we work towards true forgiveness. May we embrace the impossible, try to do the impossible. In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, who has already done the impossible by offering himself.

Leaving/Arriving: Church

Discuss.