God Is Keeping Us Busy With Joy

This is what I have seen to be good: it is fitting to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of the life God gives us; for this is our lot. Likewise all to whom God gives wealth and possessions and whom he enables to enjoy them, and to accept their lot and find enjoyment in their toil—this is the gift of God.  For they will scarcely brood over the days of their lives, because God keeps them occupied with the joy of their hearts.

-- Ecclesiastes 5:18-20 NRSV
 

It was a blessing that I began the day of the Rutledge Ecumenical Social at Sunday School at Rutledge Baptist Church. We studied the passage from Ecclesiastes above: Qoheleth is struggling on the brink of despair. He seems to fall into utter hopelessness only to spring back just enough to hang on to a little glimmer of hope. He sees people toiling and oppressed with little relief in sight. He is saddened about his short, fleeting life and all his accomplishments which he fears amount to only so much dust.

His story is very modern--like someone experiencing clinical depression and struggling to have any faith in God at all. Yet, Qoheleth finds a way to escape all that despair—as the above passage shows, it is possible find joy in the gifts God has given and to simply trust in God in that joy. He shows us how to navigate the dark, scary times of life when we do not know all the answers and when we flounder to find meaning. He offers a guiding light for some of the most difficult parts of the journey.

Baptist congregation member Sharon made this connection between the Ecclesiastes reading and the three church, three congregation ecumenical social that afternoon: “We can have joy together in our mutual love for the Lord,” she said. “We are celebrating that even though we go to different churches, we come together to laugh and for fellowship because we love the Lord, so we are all brothers and sisters.”

That same joy that Qoheleth ultimately finds is the same joy that three Christian congregations in the eastern Tennessee community of Rutledge have found: God is simply keeping them too busy with joy to be preoccupied with anything negative.
 

L-R: Patty, Fr. Steve, Pastor Chan and Chelsea

 

The Rutledge Ecumenical Social is the latest in a long line of activities between three distinct churches in rural eastern Tennessee: Rutledge United Methodist Church, Rutledge Baptist Church, and St. John Paul II Mission Catholic parish.

 

"We have prayed together, served the needy together, but we have yet to party together," said Catholic pastor Fr. Steve Pawelk on his Facebook wall.

 

Methodist Pastor Ryan Davenport described their process: "Fr. Steve, Pastor "Chan" (Chandler Vinson) and I meet once a month for lunch and for prayer. During those prayer meetings, we think of different ecumenical ministries."

 

Indeed, the three congregations have twice hosted three-day ecumenical revivals. They operate a year-round food pantry for the hungry, which features a turkey giveaway in November. This past summer, they hosted a joint Vacation Bible School. "We have just not sat down and broken bread together," continued Davenport.

 

That is exactly what the three congregations did this past weekend. The initial idea this time came from the Baptist congregation. Having graciously hosted the Vacation Bible School, the adults enjoyed themselves so much they looked for a way to continue the partnership. "The pastors texted each other to pitch the idea," recounted Chan. "The answers came back in less than 5-10 minutes--we were all like, 'we need to do this!'"

 

They picked a neutral location in the center of town. Tasks were divided up and flyers went up around town. On the day of the event, hot dogs were put on the grill and potluck dishes rounded out the meal with a mix of general American picnic fare and a robust selection of Mexican, Filipino and Southern dishes. The fiddler of the Old Time music band Possum Crossing belongs to the JPII congregation and brought his band.

 

Highlights of the event included a corn hole tournament and spontaneous dancing to accompany the music. The latter featured Fr. Steve, Pastor Chan, as well as some parishioners. One man raised the question whether dancing was itself a sin, which prompted a good-natured theological discussion--the only theological concern raised that day.

A serious game of corn hole.



Possum Crossing keeping the crowd toe tappin' to Old Time music.

Fr. Steve dances with Peggy. Photo by Chander Vinson.

 

Perhaps most noteworthy was what was not present. There was no noticeable awkwardness or coldness. A bystander such as myself would have had a hard time distinguishing which members belonged to which congregations, since people mixed so well. The few problems were not theological in nature. Rather, they revolved around the predictable logistical details of hosting an event--the normal hustle and bustle of getting the grill set up and working, directing the buffet line and organizing the clean-up. Baptist church secretary Chelsea and congregation member Patty held the nuts and bolts of this event together seamlessly.

"When we first started working together, I expected at least some backlash from the congregation," confessed Pastor Chan. "There was none. Our churches have ended up loving each other. It has been shockingly easy." 

"It is clear that Fr. Steve, Ryan and Chan really enjoy each other’s company," affirmed Patty. That spirit clearly radiates to their congregations, and perhaps it even ripples outward to the larger community.

"Working together [with he other pastors] is always really easy," affirms Pastor Chan.

Non-Competitive Relationships

A key to the success of this three-congregation, three-denomination partnership is the almost total lack of competition between them.

 

"Competitiveness is a huge hindrance to the mission of God," explained Pastor Ryan. "If we are so worried about how many people are on our rolls, if all we care about is just who we gain or who this building gains, and we are not for the greater good of the community of eradicating drugs, bringing people to Christ and loving 'the least, the last and the lost', then we are not doing our job."

Indeed, even churches that belong to the same denomination rarely get together for common activities in that region. Congregations huddle up and keep to themselves. That makes this three-church partnership a unique witness that participants hope will become more common in time: "I wish that this approach to the faith would be contagious and spread like wildfire everywhere," hoped Pastor Ryan.

"Partnership with the Baptists and Catholics makes the Kingdom of God come more to life. It’s a beautiful thing not to say: 'You’re over there, we’re over here, let’s keep it that way,'" said Pastor Ryan. "That’s not what the Bible ever teaches. What we are trying to do is be faithful to the Bible’s concept of unity.

Impact

I have visited these three congregations before and it is always such a wonderful, joyful witness. It is fascinating to ponder what impact this robust partnership can and will have in the larger community.

"I have seen greater friendliness on the streets--at the grocery store and bank,” said Fr. Steve. "There is a greater sense of community. We are constantly building relationships." He said that the congregations originally met as strangers, but through ecumenical events and joint ministry work there are now many lasting friendships that have formed.

"Denominational distinctions are on the outs," predicted Ryan. He used the lunch table where he was seated to illustrate this point. Along with Baptists, Methodists and Catholics were people with a background in the Quaker and Episcopal traditions, for example. Yet, they now worship together, study the Bible together and serve the community together. "There is a slew of different flavors of Christianity at this one table." 



"May I have this dance?"

Patty shared a compatible point: "I was brought up Catholic, but I am non-denominational now." Her church membership is not based on denomination but rather the draw of a particular pastor and the connection and acceptance of a congregation--"That's what drives my train now," she explained.

 

The overall sentiment is that in the larger community there has been too much focus on differences and not enough on similarities. "When I was growing up as the daughter of a Baptist deacon, there were very definite divisions between denominations," recounted Baptist member Peggy. "We forgot to focus on the fact that we all believe in God and worship God.”

 

Peggy told the story of her neighbor of 35 years who is a Catholic: “We decided St. Peter’s not going to ask us which denomination we belong to--he is going to ask us: 'Have you been a good and faithful servant?'"

 

She finds the technical differences between denominations tedious: "It is all very confusing to me, which is why you just have to take it on faith."

 

The spirituality of that statement is profound in light of the Ecclesiastes reading above, and it is a fitting way to understand the quest for Christian unity. Most groups do not get along as well as these congregations. Sometimes the obstacles between Christian denominations are so strong that it can be all too easy to fall into despair—the theological differences, history of hurt, misconceptions and prejudices can all pile on top of each other to create a multi-layered mess of epic proportions. We can be left not knowing what we could possibly do about it, wondering how these obstacles could ever be overcome.

 

Still, we can move forward in faith, at ease because we do not need to know all the answers but instead can trust in God's gift of joy, like Qoheleth.

 

"Some people around town are in such a shock that we do all these things," cited Sharon. They say, ‘You do something with that church?’ They lower their voice when they say that. But we all love the Lord, that’s our foundation… to me, it is a joyful thing to celebrate."

 

Sharon noticed a signal from the grill master and interrupted what she was saying to announce: "Hot dogs are ready!! Enough about all that," she playfully exclaimed and quickly left behind the talk of differences and negativity to go back to the party.

 

Indeed: God is keeping this group too busy with joy to dwell on differences.




L-R: Fr. Steve, Pastor Ryan and Pastor Chan.

 

A polka lesson.

 

 

Belief or Pratice - What Makes a Christian?

For most of the last 500 years since the Protestant Reformation, denominations in Western Christianity have been obsessed with making sure they have the right doctrine. The assumption in western Christianity has often been this: Being a Christian is about having the right salvation plan and your very salvation plan depends entirely on the right set of beliefs. 

Beliefs are the meat & potatoes in this model while actions are treated as the optional gravy side dish. Having the right beliefs is the foundation in this mindset, and on that foundation, a church community has some flexibility in the way those truths are lived out. Various styles and charisms follow. The beliefs are absolute; the practices vary. We are sympathetic when people do not live into the difficult prescriptions in the Gospel for our lifestyle, but we hold as absolute our beliefs. 

Jesus called on us to be "salt of the earth" (Matthew 5:13), but he seemed to imply something much more essential than just an optional flavoring. 

 

This belief-centered approach is promoted even when the language goes to theological extremes that few can understand. Even the most educated theologians struggle to understand slim nuances of difference between theological arguments. Nevertheless, many churches have not hesitated to claim that your eternal life depends on having the right beliefs and joining the right club.

I have an advanced degree in Theology, and yet I still do not understand the differences between any number of hot button church dividing issues.

Those nuances DO matter. But is it possible that we may sometimes obsess over the finer points of theology as a distraction from actually changing our lifestyle in light of the revelation of Christ?  

The belief-first model makes sense on some levels: For example, we can all agree on the belief that feeding the hungry is important. How we feed the hungry can legitimately change shape depending on the circumstances. Still, not all methods are equal, and therein lies the rub.

 

We also know that humans are imperfect, and we believe in a God of compassion and forgiveness in our mistakes to manifest this truth we have come to know. We may fail to freed the hungry but still affirm that feeding the hungry is important.

 

I am suggesting something more symbiotic: 

The truth impacts the way we live, so having different beliefs will definitely bring about different practices. It goes the other way, too: The way we practice the Christian faith informs our beliefs. By practicing mercy, for example, we come to know God and therefore expand our beliefs, not to mention demonstrate what we actually mean by those beliefs. By getting to know the world better through servanthood, our beliefs broaden, deepen and develop.



Left: Traditional Model - Belief Centered
Right:  Symbiotic Model

I liken it to the way Scripture and Tradition have a symbiotic relationship in Catholic theology--bouncing off each other, informing each other, each providing a lens to see the other.  

I would be hesitant to suggest that practice is more important than belief. For now, I am comfortable saying that the two should be kept in balance.

The relationship between belief and practice would follow in a similar way:

Our knowing helps us to do --

and our doing helps us to know.

 

"The medium is the message," as philosopher Marshall McLuhan said and my Theology advisor always reminded me. Belief and practice are expressed as one phenomenon. How something is conveyed is just a part of the message as the explanation that may accompany it. There is a oneness here. Thought cannot be divorced from action. 

Telling someone you love them while punching them in the face gives at best a mixed message, if it is not an outright contradiction. It certainly calls into question your definition of love and your meaning, intention and conviction behind it. You may believe in love, but do you really know love? I am using "know" here in the Biblical sense--a whole-person experience rather than just a detached intellectual experience.
 
Obviously, we will all have ideals that we fall short of realizing. I am suggesting something more than simply "practice what we preach." I am saying that the way we understand the faith could benefit greatly if we understood the Christian life as being as much a verb as a noun.

The famous love passages in 1 Corinthians 13 backs this up. Grace--as understood as faith, hope and love--is the only thing that is eternal or coherent, according to the passage. Knowledge, prophecy--everything, really--all pass away, but faith, hope and love endure. All else is only so much senseless noise. It is only God's grace which brings order out of chaos, which turns that senseless noise into music and which brings something that dies to life. Our participation in this is a more energetic relationship than an intellectual, contractual agreement.
 

Hiding-in-Plain-Sight Christianity

 

The spiritual path can be hard, and it is easy to hide from it. There is no better way of fooling people--and yourself--than hiding in plain sight. We do this by talking about Christianity. We may practice a few core disciplines that our tradition mandates--we may go to church and abstain from certain behaviors, for example. But do our lives actually give witness to what we claim to believe? Is there even an attempt made to express the radical reality of Christ? Do we know Christ only in our thoughts but not elsewhere?

 

The western mind is the descendent of the Ancient Greeks. Their heavily analytical style broke apart reality into pieces for study and comment. The human person in its wholeness became thought of as mind, body and soul. This kind of fragmentation is great for analytical study so long as we do not lose sight of the integrated whole. The Greeks may have inadvertently paved the way for the way we nowadays often see belief and practice as so distinct as to be virtually unrelated to each other. 

 

The Letter of James attempts to remind us that the human experience is whole: "For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is also dead" (James 2:26).

The great Reformers cautioned us with this. They wanted to quell the idea that humans are in charge of our destiny and that somehow we can "earn" salvation from our own efforts. It is a fair point, but they miss an even bigger point: Grace itself is a holistic experience of faith, hope and love that is not limited to the mental affirmation of belief. When we say that faith is crucial but works are not, we are acting like attendance in the locker room is essential but participation in the game itself is optional. Good works become a kind of optional victory lap in the Christian life rather than the race itself.

James challenges us more than most Christians are willing to consider. Consider this often ignored line: "Even the demons believe--and shudder" (James 2:19). Belief is not enough--the Christian experience must be more than that.

Faith without works is dead not because we earn salvation, as many in the Reformation argued. It is dead because the Christian life is not merely an intellectual head game--it is a whole-person endeavor.

 

A lot of people like to talk about religion. It is like theology is a puzzle to figure out, and they brood over it deeply. Indeed, many people have the spiritual calling--or burden--to be theologians. Their minds are unceasingly pondering the great mysteries and trying to glean what we can know of God from what has been revealed. Still, one of the great hiding places for the westerner is to hide in her/his own mind. We need thinkers, but when thoughts are too separated from a lived expression they fall short.

Defining Ourselves By Orthopraxy

Christians tend to group themselves along lines of belief. What if we were to group Christians along lines of practice?

Take something like the peace movement—very united in practice, but not always united in dogma, as people come from a variety of traditions. Yet at the same time, the practice of peace does bring about a sense of who humans are and our place in the cosmos—an implied theology is there. The peace movement is a kind of "church." Perhaps according to the test of Matthew 25, maybe we need to remove the phrase "kind of" and say "is"--it is a church in the sense that it is doing what Christ says to do.

 

The same is probably true of other movements, such as the charismatic movement or missionary movement(s). Movements have a theology. 

My colleague Dr. Rick Stern noticed that there is a unique and identifiable theology in the lyrics of bluegrass music. The practice of the music, the community which has formed around it and the revelations discovered through its practice have give it a distinct charism, or theology.   

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
—John 14:6 NIV

This is a verse most Christians have heard over and over again. It just becomes part of the wallpaper of daily life—it is so central, yet it can be so overlooked.

 

Jesus announces that He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  In other words:

* No one comes to the Father except through the Truth of Jesus. 

* No one comes to the Father except through the Way of Jesus. 

* No one comes to the Father except through a Life in Jesus. 

 

Practicing Christianity may be just as important as believing in the right Christianity. To this point, many early Christians were referred to as followers of the Way (Acts 9:2).

 

Even the word "truth" itself is not necessarily about intellectual assent but about the Mystery of Jesus as the Incarnation of God. It is how we are in relationship with this Mystery and the impact it has on our lives that matters.

Merely identifying the Truth alone is only part of the equation, and I believe this is what James was warning us about. James was not fostering a "salvation by works" theology as much as he was reminding us that the challenge of Christ is a whole person endeavor, and he was trying to call us out of one of our favorite hiding places: Our mind.

For Further Reading

Saving Souls, Not Dogma, is the Heart of Pastoral Church Life discusses a paradigm shift along the lines of this post and was helpful in constructing it.

The First Canon: Mercy offers the quote by Pope Francis below which I believe also speaks to the relationship of faith/works and orthodoxy/orthopraxy:

"Mercy is not just a pastoral attitude,

but it is the very substance of the Gospel of Jesus."

-- Pope Francis

Reaching Across Brokenness

Br. Curt Kedley outside of a Missionary Baptist church
in Bertie County, North Carolina.

“Broken.” 

That is the first word that Brother Curt Kedley uses to describe the areas where he has served as a consecrated Catholic religious brother with the Glenmary Home Missioners. This includes his many years in rural Georgia and several years in eastern North Carolina where he is currently serving.

He has seen brokenness in the festering, multi-generational poverty. He has seen it in the lack of opportunities to grow, nourish and support human persons to reach their full potential. He has found it in the significant racial divide between black and white that persists strongly to this day, especially in rural areas.

It is daunting to stand in the face of all that brokenness and discern what one person could possibly do in response.

In the early 80s, he was part of a group of Glenmary priests and brothers that set out to meet the community on its own terms through simple living, service and Christian witness. He assisted in Glenmary's mission parishes and was a presence in the community through social work and a bustling home repair ministry. Still, he was looking for something more.

Beginnings

The answer came to him at the Hancock County Fair in Georgia in 1982. He was one of the very few white people attending the fair among thousands of African-Americans. He did not know anyone--he was just mingling, meandering and getting to know the area. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was also discerning a direction for his ministry.

A woman came up to him and seemed to want to to know who he was, so they started talking. The conversation ended with an invitation: "You have got to come to our church," she told him.

"I'll be there tomorrow!" replied Curt.

He describes this as a "very spiritual encounter" and says he has never looked back from that moment. He found his direction: One significant way that he has felt compelled to reach out across all the brokenness he saw was through solidarity in worship.

A Ministry Quickly Evolves

That first church was Jones Chapel African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church. He started visiting other churches, mostly African-American ones. This quickly evolved into a regular ministry.

Br. Curt felt that the best way to serve this ministry was to have a regular presence worshipping at these churches. Trust takes time, and there were so many barriers to overcome--He is Catholic; they are Evangelical Protestants. He is white; they are mostly black. He is from the North (originally Iowa); and this is the South. His own roots growing up in a small, rural town was one point of connection among many differences.

He would select a group of around a half-dozen, mostly African-American churches where he would worship. The small number of churches meant that he could be reasonably certain to make an appearance at least every 2-3 months, if not more often. He could become a part of the community.

The majority of the churches have been African Methodist Episcopal (AME), Christian Methodist Episcopal (CME) and Missionary Baptist. This has been mostly a personal preference--he experimented with Pentecostal and other larger mega churches, but they just did not appeal to him as much as the smaller, more traditional country churches.

The rhythm of church life in rural black churches of the South can be vastly different from Catholic Churches up north. There is often no resident preacher. Services may be held only two Sundays each month with a preacher driving great distances to preside. One preacher Curt remembers fondly would drive 75-100 miles one-way in an old beat up car, and "he did not look like he had two nickels to rub together, but he came faithfully." A deacon or associate usually leads the congregation through the service with the preacher only speaking during the sermon.

Over the years, Curt has phased over 50 churches in and out of his rotation. Changes in church leadership, the closing down of a church or other factors would prompt a natural time to part ways. He also felt he had spread himself too thin in the early days of this ministry and had to scale back. Sometimes he fears the impact wears off when he becomes just a regular face in the congregation, and he feels it could be more beneficial to break new ground elsewhere. The difficulty is stopping--people ask why and are disappointed when he stops going. "'Why isn't he coming anymore?' I hear that question all the time," he says.

A Lesson Learned

Br. Curt Kedley is a man who knows his vocation well. He has the soul of a consecrated religious brother and knows this deep down in his marrow. He has never wanted to be a priest or lead a worship service but rather prefers to be among the people.

When he first visited these non-Catholic churches in Georgia, he naturally let people know that he was a Catholic, and when they would ask what he did for a living, he would tell them that he had a formal ministry with the Catholic Church. He avoided the term "brother," because that has different connotations in the black Protestant community, and instead he would say he is a "Catholic Church worker" or a "missionary laborer."

What he did not expect was that he would almost invariably be asked to co-lead the worship service, even though he was clear to avoid calling himself a "minister." Nevertheless, he was still seen as a person of the cloth and invited to participate in leading worship. "I was always given a role," he explains, and he would feel obliged to accept. It could be reading Scripture, praying over the people during the offering or at the end of the service or even preaching.  He would sit up front with the other worship leaders. "I always felt real distant from the people. It was hard to connect with them," he says.

Despite his discomfort, he experienced some of the most touching moments "behind the scenes" at these churches. Usually about 20 minutes before a service, all the worship leaders would meet in the pastor's study to "chew the fat, talk about Scripture and pray. Sometimes there would be an anointing--I was always impressed by that," he recalls.

When his assignment with Glenmary had him relocate to North Carolina, he started up with a new group of churches, and he has been careful to omit mention of any formal ministry relationship. He is clear to tell them that he is Catholic, but now describes his role more like a lay person. This allows him to be a part of the general congregation, where he feels right at home.

Ministry of Presence: Incarnation

At first glance, the ministry appears relatively simple and straightforward—Br. Curt attends churches as a form of ecumenical outreach. However, that deceptive simplicity hides a deep spirituality of presence and solidarity.

Presence can mistakenly seem like a passive ministry. However, in order to be truly present, Curt has to be fully engaged and active with the individuals and community he serves—to know them, to walk with them and to suffer with them as they suffer. It is "full, conscious and active participation," to borrow a phrase from Vatican II. This phrase was originally coined to describe the role of the faithful in Catholic liturgy, but it also transcends that definition as good worship should naturally flow into a Christian's life

Jesus himself modeled solidarity by choosing to enter into the human condition through the Incarnation. He choose to share in our situation, including all of the suffering that can accompany earthly life.

The simple act of going to someone else's church is a way to imitate Christ. Presence says so much while saying so little. It is a way of saying—I want to enter your world and share in that with you. I want to be a part of your lives--the good and the bad.

 

The goal is not to fix it or change it but just to be there. It is a way of acknowledging that all people are children of the same God and all Christians are followers of the same Christ.

Glenmary priest Fr. Steve Pawelk shares this reflective litmus test which speaks to the real meaning of presence: "Am I doing too much and not being enough?"

Being present is a powerful witness--perhaps even more powerful than sending in a check of hard-earned money to support a charitable effort. It is a way of offering our very self and demonstrating--by example--that someone else is worthy of our time and attention.

Impact?

This has been more than just an outreach ministry for Curt. He freely admits he goes to African-American Protestant churches to be nourished, as well--"no doubt about it," he says.

"It is always an honor to be there," he describes, "and I consider them to be kindred spirits. The black churches have an incredible sense of hospitality, and I have always felt welcome there. I can not say the same thing about white churches, including Catholic ones."

He asserts that breaking down the racial barrier is his primary motive, but the ecumenical connection is also important. Curt attributes a number of factors to misunderstandings between the Catholic and African-American communities.  "It is a big stumbling block that Catholics do not have female deacons," he says. In addition, he cites that the hierarchical structure of the Catholic Church and the "quieter" worship style are not well understood by the black community, in general.

 

Curt describes the overall lack of Catholic outreach to the African-American community as "sinful."  Historically, Catholics have largely kept to themselves in their own Italian, Irish and Polish ethic communities, for example, and this has not helped the perception of Catholics by black Protestants.  This has been especially true in rural areas where there is very little integration.

True to his humble nature, Curt is modest about the impact of this ministry. "I have never been able to measure it," he admits.

 

However, reports from folks who have worked, worshipped and lived with him tell an altogether different story. "I take him as a holy person . . . a Christian person who did a lot of good," said a resident of Hancock County, GA.  Others have shared similar regards. 

 

Still, the impact of a ministry of presence like this can be very difficult to calculate--it is truly an effort of faith.  The ripples of goodwill and healing may be difficult to measure, but it is important to hope that they leave a lasting impression.

 

Bread For Your Journey

Glenmary has a long promoted a ministry of visiting other churches. Glenmary priest Fr. Frank Ruff attests that it is one of the most effective ways of overcoming misunderstandings and building ecumenical bridges. "It is an act of humility and vulnerability to go to another church for no other reason than to join them in praise of God," he says. He believes that visiting other churches is the best way to witness to our common brother and sisterhood as Christians, and it also initiates dialogue, fosters understanding and overcomes prejudice.

Br. Curt Kedley is a shining example of this kind of ministry. He certainly has made the ministry his own and has crafted it according to his unique temperament and vocation. Hopefully, there is something in his story that can inspire all of us. While his many years of regular outreach to dozens of churches may seem daunting to the average person, is there perhaps a small piece that we can each glean from his story and apply to our own ministry?

 

Perhaps we can cultivate a relationship with a single church that is different from our own and visit it from time to time?  It is the kind of ministry that is both simple and profound and is truly accessible to each person. 

 

What other ideas do the experiences of Br. Curt Kedley inspire in you?

 

Pope Francis -- More than a Change in Tone

It is almost impossible to read a commentary about Pope Francis without someone describing his approach as a "change in tone."

This is a big debate in Catholic circles about the leadership of Pope Francis.  He seems to be changing a lot of things.  Is he changing basic beliefs?  Some say he is just bringing a new style.  Some say he is focusing on our pastoral practices but not changing doctrine.

There is reason to celebrate the expression "change in tone"--those who fear change are reassured of continuity and those who want radical change are also affirmed that their view has a long history of Church support. The phrase is politically ingenious.

However, the phrase lacks bite in an important way:  All of these suggestions are inadequate, because belief and practice are not isolated from each other.

I will go on record in saying that "a change in tone" is one of the worst ways of understanding Francis.

Gridiron Christianity or Locker Room Analysis?

Before a football game, the teams meet in the locker rooms and strategize with mock plays on the chalkboard.  They study the rules and rehearse drills.  They review the mishaps and celebrations from the previous week.

Later, they show up on the gridiron and attempt to turn those plays into reality--all the while experiencing the elements, shouting crowds and on-the-field improvisations.  The lessons from the past and the hopes for the future all intersect in the present moment in the snap of the football. The arrows and symbols on a chalkboard are simplistic representations of a much bigger process that unfolds in the lived reality of the game.  While the playbook matters, no one would ever confuse the playbook with the game itself.

Going from the locker room playbook to the lived reality of the field is far more than simply a "change in tone"--it is the game itself.

How silly it would be for people to debate the correct sequence of plays in the locker room and never step foot on the football field, yet that is exactly how many Christians live their Christian life.  We act like the theory is more important than the practice.  We choose the life of a sports commentator rather than the grunts, tackles and gasps of a first-person encounter.  It makes no sense for football.  Why do we settle for this in our spiritual walk?

We play football on the field but many of us live Christianity in the locker room. 

I know a lot of folks who approach Catholic Social Teaching as a mental exercise.  They spend hours pouring over books and locked in discussions.  They struggle to understand what Jesus meant when he called on people to "feed the hungry," for example.

From the perspective of the hungry person, it matters little if people have the best theology if that theology does not somehow manifest in the form of potatoes, corn and beans in front of them.

Likewise, it matters little if someone can poorly articulate a cohesive theology if they come in love bearing sacks of grain.  On some level of their being, they "get it" even if their explanation would not hold up to an academic critique.

Some say that love by itself is not the Gospel.  I am not sure about that.  What I would argue is that doctrine without love is not the Gospel.

The Good News for the hungry is not the reassurance that well intentioned people are studying the Gospels--the Good News is knowing that the food delivery truck is on its way.

It's All About Love

Scripture reminds us of the Mystery of love--without it, our actions are just a senseless banging of gongs and cymbals (1 Cor 13:1). It is as if what we do does not even matter without love--those actions do not participate in eternity.

God turns chaos into order in Genesis, and without love our actions deteriorate back into chaos. Love, therefore, is the creative expression of God!  Scripture speaks to this in saying, "everyone who loves is born of God" (1 John 4:7). 

Going from noise to music is, literally speaking, a change in tone.  But to stop there in the description is to miss something big: It is also what separates order from chaos.  It separates what endures from that which fades, the eternal from the temporal.  It separates death from life, as James reminds us that "faith without works is dead" (James 2:26)--it is not because we "earn" salvation through our own efforts, as the great Reformers worried, but rather it is because knowing Jesus is whole-person endeavor that is much more than just intellectual knowledge.

To the extent that Pope Francis is turning belief into practice marks a change not just in tone but of essence.  He calls on us to practice mercy.  He calls on us to live simply and tend to the poor.  This is not just icing on an otherwise fine piece of cake.  The practice of mercy is not just a softer delivery of the same ole, same ole--it is the difference between the playbook and game itself.  This is Good News.

Ecumenism in Action and Contemplation

I met Lutheran minister Mary Finklea early in my Religious Unity Tour.  She attended both the social justice activism of Ecumenical Advocacy Days (EAD) as well as the denominational dialogues around unity at the National Workshop on Christian Unity (NWCU). 

Rev. Finklea is intuitively aware that both of these efforts are like two sides of the same coin, and she would strongly urge other Christians to attend both.  Her words got me thinking:  Each one is a complete ministry in and of itself, but there is something in how they interplay together that offers a broader vision and fosters a more complete spiritual discipline for the participant. 

Together, they provide a model for how all Christians--from clergy members to the people in the pews--can work towards Christian unity.

Rev. Mary Finklea taking an offering for the poor. http://bit.ly/1JTzGj4

The relationship happens "in the doing" at EAD--Christians work together for a common cause, such as prison reform, food insecurity or the environment.  John Lennon said, "life is what happens when you are busy making other plans."  In the case of EAD, Christian unity happens while we are living out the commandments.  Sometimes we just need to stop talking about our differences and get busy doing something together.

After working together for a while, we may look back and be surprised to realize that our relationship has improved on its own.  Perhaps differences have softened or simply seems less relevant.  Walls come down as we see into the hearts of each other and witness the gifts that God has given to other denominations.

However, I would tell my social justice colleagues not to stop there.



The pieces do not always automatically fall into place.  Our work together can be hampered by denominational wounds, misunderstandings and differences of opinion.  Hurt feelings can get swept under the rug if ignored.  It can help get the justice ball rolling to set some of this straight.  It may take years or even centuries to work out all of the differences, but what is helpful in the here and now is that we commit to the process of working it out. 

 

It is important to take the time to intentionally work on our relationship with each other.  We do just that at the NWCU--building on the positives and facing the differences.  For example, Catholics and Lutherans work on the specific problems between Catholics and Lutherans.  The same happens between Methodists, Episcopalians and so on. 

 

This sensitive work sometimes happens in windfalls and other times is painstakingly slow.  It can only go as fast as it can go.  Like a therapeutic relationship, all parties speak their truths and listen to the others.  If and when all parties are ready, forward movement can happen.

The shared experiences and relationships we build while working together for justice can provide the context and a cushion for a dialogue.  After all, refusing to join together until all differences are reconciled can be a catch-22:  You often have to be in motion to generate the raw material to work with for that reconciliation to even begin.  On the flip side, our missionary mandate call us to cross both the external frontiers in society as well as the internal ones, too.  Our social justice witness can be compromised if we propose a reconciliation in society that we as denominations are unable to achieve ourselves.

 

Together, they provide a model of interaction, deeply rooted in Scripture and the Christian tradition, of action and contemplation--in the doing we reflect, and in our reflection we are compelled to do. 

  

Thanks be to God, after all:  They will know we are Christians--and we ourselves will recognize each other as Christians--by our love. This includes the love we have to share with society through our charity and justice work, as well as the love we have for each other to truly listen to each other, hold each other's concerns in patience and empathy, heal wounds and work through conflicts.

Never Break Relationship

Scott Schaeffer-Duffy knows a thing or two about talking to people about difficult topics. 

As co-founder of the of the Sts. Francis and Thérèse Catholic Worker in Worchester, MA, he publically promotes the consistent ethic of life--a moral framework which ties all issues of life and killing together.  As a result, he takes a stand against abortion, war, the death penalty, poverty and violence of all kinds. 

It is a very Christian idea with deep roots all the way back to Jesus and the Ancient Israelite prophets.  Nevertheless, it is an idea which faces no shortage of resistance.  The odds are high that something he says on some issue is going to be a hot button issue for someone.  It puts him on both sides of the culture wars but at home on neither side.  Emotions can get high, and many red faced people have shouted all manner of insults at him. 

He gave some advice at a Catholic Worker gathering many years ago that has left a profound impression on me:  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

This includes--perhaps especially so--the people who are rigidly entrenched and refusing to dialogue in a respectful manner.

The longer I continue in ministry, the more I see the wisdom in that.

I asked in an earlier post if it is okay to be intolerant of intolerance.  The first question to ask is:  Am I getting an accurate read on the other person?  If I sit back and say those people are just intolerant, how do I know whether or not that is actually true?   It could just be my perception of them or what I have been told (or manipulated) to believe about them.  I am never going to understand them well from a distance.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

What is the best way to help facilitate a change?  Assuming I do believe they are mistaken, shunning them is not likely to have much of an impact.  After all, shunning is the first step on the path to dehumanizing and objectifying someone, opening the door to justify later abuse.  I need to see their humanity as God's image and never lose sight of that in my dealings with them--for my sake as well as theirs.  I hope they see my humanity as God's image, too.  Once that happens, we will be in a much better place to truly listen to each other and consider what each other is saying.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.
 
Language is important.  Let's not whitewash:  Intolerant of intolerance is exactly that--intolerance.  I may not like intolerance, but saying I am intolerant of it is a red flag on my own spiritual development.  Reacting to their intolerance with an equal and opposite display of intolerance on my part puts them in the driver's set--they end up setting the tone for my behavior.  Never break relationship, stay in dialogue.

I keep coming back to the importance of combining contemplation with action, a theme we have explored a lot in this blog lately.  Mystics have been saying this for centuries, including Richard Rohr and Thomas Merton.  Scott Schaeffer-Duffy's words resonate here greatly. 

It may be a very fine thing to take the action of protesting the behavior of some folks that I find to be intolerant.  My conscience and faith formed in the Gospel may drive me to that action.  However, I also have a duty to combine that with contemplation. In other words I have to be constantly meditating, praying, being in dialogue with others and reading about the subject to make abundantly sure I am not simply wrong or driven by my own agenda.  Knowing how well the ego can hide behind layers of pride, jealousy, fear, real wounds and false humility, I have to be on an ever-watchful vigil.  The exercise of self-reflection never ends.

I have to bring a prayerful, loving, humble stance to my social action because there is no other way to ensure I am not just replacing one prejudice or intolerance with another.  Even that is not foolproof, but it is the best way we have to check and balance our own runaway ego--it is a way to stay rooted in our own faith and values and not just mindlessly react.  Then our actions inform and influence our contemplation in an endless interplay.

Without contemplation, we become what we hate.

Case in point:  A man grows up in an excessively controlling family.  Boundaries are not respected and privacy is not a part of family culture, despite his discomfort and perhaps his protests.  He crawls into an emotional shell only to be regularly prodded, guilted and manipulated out of that.  After coming out of that environment, he declares--consciously or subconsciously--never to let anyone else control him ever again.  His instincts are on high alert to resist any hint at control.  He becomes so engrossed with resisting external control, however, that it becomes very difficult to be in relationship with him.  To be a guest in his house, you have to follow his all-too-rigid rules and endless protocol.  Walking on eggshells is an ever-present reality around him.

While I would never deny him his right to set his own boundaries and preferences for his home, he fails to see that he has actually become like his family of origin.  Like his parents who were not responsive to him as a child, his baggage is so all-engrossing that he cannot be responsive to the needs of his guests and friends--they have to bend to his wishes (even the point of compromising themselves), but he has little flexibility to do likewise.  There is a fine line between his right to protect his boundaries and his tendency to achieve that by imposing increasingly restrictive rules on the people around him.  People are in a compromising position around him, just like he was in a compromising position growing up.

The mechanism he used for breaking away from his family's control is . . . control.  It is the stuff of Greek tragedy, but it makes sense--control is what he knows.  In this way, we come to see our enemies like unto ourselves.  They trigger us because they are more like us than we ever care to imagine.  The seeds for compassion are sown.

This man is not an isolated example--he represents all of us.  We become what we hate, says my uncle.   It is not a question of "if" this may happen but "when" and "how."  Hindus call it karma.  Psychologists call it projection.  Ancient Greeks referred to it as tragedy.  Newtonian physicists talk of actions having equal and opposite reactions.  Jesus told us to love our enemies and hinted that we may find ourselves in them somehow. 

Action without contemplation puts us on due course to become just like our enemies, even when it may seem like we are working to be the complete opposite. 

All too often in history, a government is overthrown for its miscarriage of justice only to be replaced with another regime as evil as the previous one, despite the seemingly good intentions of those struggling for change.  The exceptions are those who are intentional about reconciliation and mature contemplation.  Otherwise, you hurt those who have hurt you, hate those who have hated you and limit those who have limited you.  The subsequent generation would not see justice but only oppression and then their resistance starts.

The Gospel offers an alternative:  Love your enemies. Bless those who persecute you. Do good to those who hate you. Pray for those who mistreat you. 

In other words:  Stop the madness from continuing in a never-ending chain reaction of violence.

No matter how justifiable it may seem, I have got to always stay in relationship and dialogue with those with whom I disagree.  Through faith, I maintain my center despite the storms going on around me.  My dialogue with them--as well as my internal self-reflection--helps ensure that I am not creating a rigid fundamentalism of my own but rather a stance of being rooted in faith while also responsive to the world around me.

There is a depressingly endless array of injustices in this world.  We cannot sit paralyzed, unwilling to take action out of our own self-doubt or sense of humility.  All we can do is take action with a firm commitment to continual self-evaluation and education in prayer, discussion, study and personal growth--and always keep the doors of possibility open with those with whom we disagree so that their methods of exclusion do not become our methods of exclusion.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

Family Matters

Holiday political arguments can be the stuff of legend. 

My family is nothing unusual in this regard.

The way it would often end, however, has left an impression on me years later even though many of these folks have since passed on and the family has grown and drifted as the generations have accumulated.

On one side of my family, there are people with a wide range of political views and an even wider range of opinions about how vocal we ought to be about them.  There are right-wingers and peace activists, middle-of-the-roaders and apolitical folks.  Some like to debate while others avoid it at all costs.  

Our Christmas gatherings have seen their share of knock-down-drag-out debates and no-holds-barred arguments. 

It could begin with outright intentional baiting or perhaps an innocent-sounding comment that flares up.  It continues as participants engage each other with a mix of both curiosity and repulsion--do you really think or believe this way?  It peaks with blame and hostility.

 

Despite all that, when we have gathered our coats, presents and plates of cookies and are headed for the door, something on the order of a Christmas miracle happens.

 

We usually come back to that place where we say out loud that we are still glad we get together.  Even if we see each other only once or twice a year, it does matter--we are still family and gathering is important.  Some of us would rarely opt to spend time together otherwise, yet there is something about family that speaks to a bond.  We witness to that bond by showing up.  Perhaps all we can do is agree to disagree.

(It might have been even better to start the arguments with these affirmations, but I digress.)

Christianity teaches that all humans are one family as children of the one God.  We certainly share the same world and its resources.  Like my relatives, we ought to do something to keep the dialogue open.  It matters that we are in relationship. 

 

Agreeing to disagree is much more powerful than our society usually regards it.  It is not a blow off--there is respect; there is acknowledgement; there is a proposed way of sitting with those differences.  It creates space to pause and re-center ourselves.  It may not be perfect, but it is a step.

We wish each other "Merry Christmas," "Safe travels" and perhaps most importantly, "See you next year."

 

Let Go, Let God

God uses failure to bring us to brokenness,

to force us back to a posture of dependence.

--Seth Barnes

 

***

Have you ever had an experience with people so difficult that it actually becomes easy?

You meet each other; you start talking.  You get to a point where you realize you cannot connect to them through any mechanism you may normally use.  You cannot find any natural points of congruency.  Perhaps you are driven to the brink of frustration.  Nothing you do works to find common ground or reconcile differences.  You realize: I am not going to change them, and they are not going to change me.

You simply run out of options and then something amazing happens:

You throw your proverbial hands up in the air and simply let go.

You let go of all your needs--your expectations, your demands, your codependent dynamics, your impulse to steer the relationship to go in a certain direction.  

You resign yourself to let it be whatever it is going to be.  Perhaps in a half-comical way, you simply accept each other as you are, because you just know you are so completely and totally different.

In other words, you get out of God's way.

Wise people say the ego needs to fail in exactly this way.  It is like hitting rock bottom and knowing in your bones that you are at the end of your supply chain.  It is the desperate plea of the Psalmist who realizes that s/he is ultimately powerless and dependent on God alone.  That stance of complete and total reliance on God--rather than our own power--is the place of spiritual communion with God. 

You can say that we live the Christian life on our knees.

Two egos can lock horns and fight almost endlessly.  When someone is depleted, they may pause--but after a rest, they invariably resume locking horns.  This can go on for years, and each party will convince itself of the value of his/her position and the necessity of standing ground in this fashion.  After all, wars are rarely won when one side becomes convinced of the other's rightness. Wars are more about exterminating and exhausting the other but never about change-of-heart.

Grace appears--through epiphany or sheer exhaustion--when this method absolutely and totally fails in a way that is abundantly clear.

It can be excruciating.  You are pushed to your limits.  So much of what you have invested in has failed miserably.

It can also be tremendously freeing.  Your pride was never a part of your true self anyway.

What seems at first like a contradiction is that this very attitude of completely letting go actually forms the foundation for the best kind of relationship--both with yourself and with the other.  It seems like a paradox, but it actually makes good sense.  It is a profound platform for love and affection to flow--the complete absurdity of the relationship has allowed you to shirk all your baggage about relationships, which then allows something miraculous to happen:  You discover a healthy place of self-differentiation--I do not need you to change in order for me to be okay with myself.

You do not experience any affirmation from them in any way that you normally rely on.  As a result, you stand on your own feet in your own shoes simply because there is no crutch available to you.  An amazing paradox:  Living on your knees allows you to stand your ground.

An authentic relationship becomes possible because you let go of your demands on the other person as well as any fantasy about who you or they might be.  You can instead receive the authentic truth of who they are.  This also means accepting the authentic truth of who you are, rather than seeing yourself through the blurred lens of your baggage.  You no longer feel compelled to avoid whatever it is inside of you that is uncomfortable--wounds that are unhealed.

This is one of the many grace-filled ways that the "enemy"--or the stranger, the lost, the misunderstood, the forgotten, the marginalized, the relationship sparring partner--becomes a key to finding ourselves.  This includes anyone in an oppositional position.  No one is excluded in God's Kingdom, because to exclude anyone is to put a barrier to your own self and the work you need to do on your spiritual walk.

***

Then—and only then—once a relationship is established where you truly respect the person as they are right now, of course, there is a place for giving each other constructive feedback.  There is a time to be a prophetic witness.  But that feedback comes out of genuine respect.  It does not come from yelling at each other based on what we think we know about each other but rather from the genuine care and concern that comes from the lived experience of a relationship.  It does not come from an agenda rooted in fears or being manipulated by our own triggers, nor does it come from painting people into categories with broad brush strokes.

It is a wonderful exercise then to apply this to all relationships--do not put any demands or pressure on each other.  Accept each other becomes your primary stance to anyone.  Sometimes it is easiest to do this with the people who are furthest removed.  Then begins the journey back home with this new revelation--bringing this same mode of healthy self-differentiation, lack of attachment to an agenda, acceptance of each other and calming of our triggers that we have experienced with strangers--back home to coworkers, neighbors, friends and ultimately our family and spouse.  This path back home, in this light, gets harder and harder the closer to "home" you get--because the closer relationships--and their inherent baggage--are much deeper.

***

This post applies to all relationships, but it might be interesting to think of how it relates to the quest for Christian unity.  Many say that quest for Christian unity has stalled.  We have reached the limits in many cases of what academics can resolve and what hierarchical structures can accommodate.  We know that arguments and wars do not work, and few ecumenists want to return to that method of solving theological differences.  Academic debates today are far kinder and more polite than ever.  In fact, the average church goer might be surprised to find out how well representatives from different denominations get along in this process. 

The real challenge for today, I believe, is learning to be okay and accept each other in our differences.  People are afraid to give up their debates and arguments about each other. We stick our necks out, but only so much.  Whether we are academics, clergy or any other member of a church denominations, what would it means for us to ask ourselves:  Before entering a debate with anyone, how can we begin that dialogue on our knees?  Have we gone through the personal conversion necessary before attempting to broker anyone else's conversion?  Accepting each other--and all that it implies--is not the end of the journey but rather a new beginning.