I have been doing some blogging around the net and because I am one person with one set of experiences - I cannot speak for the whole state of the church (as much I try to anyways). I am going to ask a series of questions - answer if you want - and let me know how you see the church.
(1) What programs are offered at your church for people that are struggling with poverty in your community?
(2) How many people attend your church and how many of those people do you have close relationships with?
(3) Do you think church has made you a more ethical person? If so, why?
(4) If I had to ask you a % - what % of people in your church do you think are very moral people and would not hurt another soul?
(5) How do you wish the money in the church was being spent?
(6) What aspect of church do you find most rewarding?
(7) Concerning church focus - what % is on spiritual matter and what % is on here and now matters?
not everyone who reads writes. not everyone who writes reads. not everyone who argues fights. not everyone who fights bleeds.
fair enough.
a movie that found its way into a lot of dialogue awhile back was '300.'
no doubt pretty much everyone has seen it in whole or in part by now. we've certainly seen the 'WE ARE SPARTA!' kick-the-guys-into-the-well trick spoofed ad nausium .
perhaps the reason that the movie wins for most of us has nothing to do with the fact that the underdogs lose but do so heroically. perhaps the movie works because audiences embrace the art of larger than life storytelling- and delight in the whole idea that it is the telling of the story that determines the impact of it, not necessarily the details, factual or fictional, that are covered.
the facts are historically chronicled and anyone with access to an encyclopedia can check 'em...
(you remember those epic, leather-bound, pre-internet, paper compendiums of all the most useful and useless information a baby-booming household could possibly ever need in order to participate knowledgeably in the realization of optimistic post-war self-actualization dreams)
...but the facts are embellished in the telling to the point where xerxes is a godlike giant 9 feet tall his troops are darkly intimidating and mysterious his concubines mind-bendingly exotic ...
(interesting, considering this is the environment in which a biblical heroine named esther does some pretty great work as wife of this very same godking, saving her countrymen from a jealousy-inspired act of state-sanctioned anti-semitism)
and the simple warriors of sparta are commonly steeped in enough uncommon valour that their six-packs are denser and more well-defined than batman's body armour.
basic fruit drink facts but with redbull intensity. scandalous pulp publication story telling.. pain and promise treachery and triumph hope, hype and heroism alliteration galore and rumours of glory
yeah, like that.
but we recognize that the spartans fail, right? miserably. they die like dogs... courageous, stubborn and proud dogs but dogs nonetheless.
so why does a story of failure, gloriously told or not, captivate us? because failure is not an option- it is a necessity. (Rev Edwin Lee) because increscunt animi virescit volnere virtus (Friedriche Nietzsche) (the spirit grows- strength is restored by wounding)
because we need to be inspired beyond failure and disappointment, lest we curl up in the fetal position and let life on fallen planet earth have its way with us again and again and again. we need to know that something good can come out of something bad... that the bad guys don't always win any more than the good guys always lose. that there is hope lurking in the backstory of even the most hopeless of life's episodes.
take, for example, the couch i recently bought.
i was excited because i knew that bringing this sofabed down into our basement would allow us to more hospitably open our home to travellers and such than the current lumpy futon situation. so when i saw this couch that appeared to match the rest of our basement in both function and form, and realized that it was even on sale, i jumped at the paperwork.
i knew it was perfect because it needed to be ordered. no problem. it would not be here for three weeks. great- more time to get things ready.
so three weeks later, when the thing arrived, i had already arranged to borrow a truck from someone to pick it up, and had secured the helping hands of another to help get the thing out of the truck, through the door, down the stairs, around the corner, through the pocket door and into the media room where it would rest.
it was a bit of work getting the thing through the door. had to take the door right off, as it was a bit bulky to go through.
we had to lift it over our heads in order to angle it right down the stairs.
halfway down i realized that the packaging (all that clear plastic and cardboard that had served as protection during shipping) was making the thing bigger than it actually was, so i removed it while my friend balanced the couch in the stairwell.
that was went the bed opened up. we were, after all, holding it upside down and tipped to one side. springs will be springs.
so i tied the thing closed and then discovered the awful truth... this couch wasn't going to go around the corner.
i should maybe step back and say that, after many more trials, new angles, greater force and such, i discovered that this now rather roughed up couch was not going to go around the corner.
back up the stairs it went, and around the front of the house to the garage, where it still remains to this day.
not that there's anything wrong with our garage... i had just envisioned something a bit nicer for any guests that might happen to roll through town and were in need of some free accomodation.
upon telling many others, i learned that pretty much everybody measures a couch before they buy it. even the good people at the furniture store were surprised that i hadn't measured first. by the time i came to ask them directly, news of my dilemma had already circulated amongst them.
granted, this is not exactly an epic battle. it is the everyday kind that we all face... but where is the hope? if i am to be numbered with the spartans, the 301st to fall in this, the 301st post, then i need to know that somehow my suffering has not been in vain; that there is something good that is to come of this...
the best i could do was to find an allegory
see, there is a way to get this couch into the basement. essentially, what we need is teleportation: we need to disintegrate the couch on one side of the corner and then reintegrate it on the other side of the corner, through the door. we are in need of a carpenter.
now to find a saviour who will do this for free...
"Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, 'We will not walk in it.' (Jeremiah 6.16)
the crossroads has become a traditional place for us- a recognized symbol of those times when one’s life transitions from one phase to another by his or her own volition. it involves decision- the active engagement of free will.
and we come to crossroads many times over the course of a life. there are always options to consider, factors to calculate in, outcomes and consequences to weigh out and ultimately a choice to be made.
at the crossroads of life, we selah.
another transitional symbol is the bridge. bridges are typically these carefully constructed causeways which join two very separate lands that are divided by some type of water hazard which is impossible to cross on foot, but even a huge log laying across a fast-moving channel can serve as one. whatever the form, the function remains the same because, like crossroads, bridges are essentially about movement into a new land.
for my family, a certain bridge plays a very significant role in the transition from childhood to manhood. however, instead of crossing it, the point is to jump off of it…
every culture has them... these things that young men do to prove they are old enough and old men do to prove they are young enough. they are portals which lead to that elusive and undefined wormhole in the space-time continuum called 'our prime'
this bridge, some sixty feet above the thompson river (depending on time of year), is such a portal.
What does it mean to be a man? Am I a man? What should I do in this or that situation? These boys are growing up into uncertain men because the core questions of their souls have gone unanswered, or answered badly. (John Eldredge)
on holidays recently back in my hometown, my sons and i went bridge-jumping. the first time i had jumped off of this thing was when i was about 12... i dragged my younger brother up and off with me a couple years later.
however, that was very long ago. at the time of our holiday, i had not been 'in the air' for about fourteen years and so my boys had grown up on the mythology, having never actually seen me or my brother actually jump. so we decided, amidst some well-meaning protest from both their mother and mine, to take the historic leap together. it was time. my younger brother went ahead of us and then the three of us jumped, hitting the water in order of age (or weight).
the boys will never be the same... nor will i.
somehow their passing through the portal also changed me- can't explain it really, other than to simply acknowledge that when we see something or someone differently, it usually means that change has happened on both sides of the lens.
anyway, a couple days after successfully conquering the height and gravity of the bridge, we decided to paddle a canoe out to copper island and go cliff jumping (something else i hadn't done since the last time i went over the side of the red bridge.) this jump was more precarious because, although it was slightly lower, there was the fact that in order to clear the rocks and safely hit the water some fifty feet below, the jumper needed to hurl himself more than ten feet forward from only a two-step approach.
after i had gone to essentially prove two things to the guys: that it could be done and that i had the jam to do it (yeah, i know- so lame), it was time for my older son to go. in order to tap into a little external motivation through sibling pressure, he asked for a countdown, and his younger brother obliged. he jumped, arms and legs flailing, whooping and hollering all the way to a rather uncomfortable enema that resulted from landing a bit wrong.
by this time i had made it back up the rocks and was ready to film my younger son- the one that had been just two months old the last time i had been here. he asked for a countdown and i refused.
refused?
it just seemed wrong to me to be somehow putting that kind of pressure on my boy to be like his old man, or even like his older brother. i was holding the camera, documenting (rather poorly, i might add) the whole thing, but it was his jump... it had to be his call when and how he addressed the challenges that were presenting themselves.
and anyway, there were enough boats anchored in the bay to provide plenty of external pressure to conquer this... nothing like moving through a rite of passage in front of a live audience.
so when he was ready, he took it on his own terms, silently but with perfect form. his brother, still in the water, could be heard loudly and proudly proclaiming 'he's only fourteen!'
every culture has them... these things that young men do to prove they are old enough and old men do to prove they are young enough. all this business of growing up and never growing old seems to plague some of us to no end, but within all the confusion and quest for an identity that ascends to relevance and remains that way, never growing obsolete or otherwise outdated, there is the volition factor that has been in heartbreaking play since the beginning of human history:
you can do whatever you want.
the fact that we often want the wrong things out of life is probably a whole nother blog, but certainly the establishment of oneself in the bigger picture, having a role and a sense of identity within this role, has to do with the fact that, in the end, it's your jump...
I'm supposed to introduce the Torah reading tomorrow at shul so thought I'd share here what I've written. At shul we have two talks during the course of the 3 hour service. The one I will be giving is just prior to the Torah being chanted and is an overview of the reading with comments of course. Later on someone else will give a d'var Torah which is more like a short sermon.
This week’s parashah, Chukkot, is a fascinating parashah with speaks of death and dealing with death, of battles avoided and battles fought, of songs of triumph and voices of complaint.
The parashah presents a series of perhaps contradictory images.There is a red heifer ritual which makes an impure person pure while at the same time rendering a pure person impure. There is the rod which was instrumental in gaining our freedom but which now contributes to the downfall of the very leader who led us to freedom.There is a bronze snake fashioned to bring healing to those who spoke against God, yet which we see later in Tanakh being destroyed for leading people away from God.There is the avoidance of conflict with Edom which leads to complaining while the battles fought against the Amorites lead to singing.
The parashah begins with a ritual for being cleansed after coming in contact with a corpse.Three pages in our Chumashim are devoted to describing this mysterious ritual, yet even though the parashah then tells us of Miriam’s death followed shortly thereafter by Aaron’s, we never read of this ritual actually being followed.It remains a bizarre ritual which midrash teaches not even King Solomon could understand!
Immediately following these instructions for the red heifer, we read a very stark statement:Miriam died there and was buried there.That’s it.It seems her death had little impact on the community, yet perhaps the text gives a hint of her value when immediately following this brief statement of her death we read that the community was without water.Our tradition teaches that the well which provided us water in the wilderness was Miriam’s contribution.Her brothers were the leaders, the greatest prophet and the Cohen Gadol, so perhaps the terse statement of Miriam’s death shows how little she was appreciated while she was alive while the subsequent events show how quickly her presence was missed.Perhaps as is often the case with behind the scenes people, her value was not recognized until after she was gone.
The loss of Miriam, of Miriam’s water, led to a thirsty people and an angry brother.The brother’s mourning the loss of their sister, missing the water she provided for them as well, were perhaps not ready to deal with all the stresses of leadership.Perhaps that is why when Aaron dies, 30 days of mourning follows; a result of what we learned from Miriam’s death, that we need time to mourn before we’re required to once more take on the responsibilities of every day living.
When Miriam died there was no mourning period, only complaining people, angry leaders and a rock.One might well wonder what God was thinking in telling a frustrated leader to take a rod and produce water from a rock! Surely it is asking for trouble to put temptation right in someone’s hand!Nevertheless, God holds Moses and Aaron responsible for striking the rock.Moses is told to bring Aaron and Aaron’s son to MountHor.Aaron will die there and Aaron’s son will carry on in his father’s stead.Perhaps this is something we also learn from Miriam’s death, that we need to pass things down generation to generation so that the community can carry on even after the loss of someone as valuable as a Cohen Gadol.Aaron dies, his son takes on his role, every one mourns for 30 days.Perhaps it is suiting that the death of a peacemaker was followed by days of peace rather than the upheaval we see after Miriam’s death.
Afterwards Moses alone is left to carry on.The people aren’t allowed to pass through Edom and begin to complain, again, as they are skirting the land.This time God sends serpents and many people die.Moses again intercedes for the people, but this time only after they ask him to do so and this time something is required of the people.If they’re not willing to at least lift their eyes and look at the snake, they will not be healed.In previous intercessions Moses asked for forgiveness for the people and it was granted; Moses had Aaron run through the camp with a fire pan to make expiation for the people.Perhaps this time, with Moses alone and knowing he would soon be joining his siblings, it’s time for the people to start taking some responsibility for themselves and their actions.
The people complained as they avoided conflict with Edom, yet once they were able to fight the Amorites, to conquer land and destroy people, we find bards reciting poetry, a bit of a disturbing, but all too human, image I would say.
The parashah comes to an end with us sitting on the opposite side of the Yarden from Jericho, seemingly poised to enter the land, yet as you can see, Torah, which ends with us still on the opposite side of the Yarden, if far from finished.So close, yet so far.It’s sort of like when Rabbi says, “Let me just say a few words and then we’ll go in for kiddush….”
Smudge Walk 2008 Thursday June 5th Scott Collegiate Grounds 9:00 am - 1:00 pm ***Walk starts at 10:00 am
I don't normally ask people to attend events but this one makes sense - and I want to explain why (for those in Regina).
(a) The walk is a symbolic action being taken for the North Central area of Regina and the Aboriginal community therein - and showing a solid effort from the citizens of Regina in the support of positive actions being taken in that neighborhood. A lot of stuff that comes out of there is not positive and people are even scared to 'walk' there at night - and we need to stand solidly against the idea this what we want for that community.
(b) Smudging is an Aboriginal ritual that is like the idea of prayer - or cleansing. The walk is about the symbolic idea of cleansing the neighborhood and praying for it - and in this case - praying with our feet.
(c) It's also a good chance for the churches to get into the good graces of the Aboriginal community and identifying with their causes. The churches have a very weak history with this community and the best way to show solidarity is to participate in events like this. It's a step in the right direction for the church in it's efforts to partner with this community.
It's a great event and chance for people that have not experienced the Aboriginal community in a positive way to find that connection - whilst walking with the community in unity.
PS: I won't be there this year - I really wanted to go - but I have to help with an Aboriginal Leadership Conference at the U of R which is also in solidarity with 'June as Aboriginal History Month'.
Here's one of our chances to truly bridge the gap between the communities.
A video I saw on another webiste, this week's Torah portion and an ongoing discussion on Jason's blog have all seemed to converge on one theme, finding a way to get along while remaining true to who one is, true to one's purpose in existing.
Jason has been reading through a book, "You Don't Have to Be Wrong For Me to Be Right" by Rabbi Brad Hirschfield, a title that says it all as far as what the book is about. I read the book myself and found it quite intriguing, the idea that there are ways people from different religions can interact and even inspire each other without their religions turning into a pile of mushy nothing.
This week's Torah portion, Bamidbar, the beginning of Numbers is about a census and the assignment of location and tasks to the various tribes and families within tribes. There was a census taken in Exodus, but only of the people as a whole. In Numbers another census was taken only this time people were counted according to their tribe. The question of why the difference was taken up by Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky:
“Until it was established that the central motif in Jewish life is the Sanctuary, there was a danger that one’s identification with his own tribe would lead to “nationalism” and factionalism. Once it was established, however, that all the tribes looked to the Tabernacle as their primary unifying force, the establishment of separate tribal identities would be healthy. Then, each tribe would realize that its individual abilities should be developed for the service of Israel’s national goal of Heavenly service. Then, the tribes would be separate only in terms of the unique roles they were to play in realizing the national destiny.” (The Stone Edition Artscroll Chumash p. 727)
Surely this image can also be projected onto the world of religions, that if we realize we share the common center, we can each focus on using our unique abilities, our religion's unique abilities, in service of that center and the world around us.
In this Torah reading we also note that the tribes were spaced around the Tabernacle in a certain order, There was a reason they were located where they were. For example Judah, the tribe of kings, was directly in front of the entrance to the Tabernacle. Immediately behind Judah was Issachar, which according to Jewish tradition was the tribe of scholars and right behind Issachar was Zebulon, which tradition says was a tribe of merchants. It was best for the king to be closest to God on the one side and to scholars on the other, while remaining somewhat separated from wealth. Yet wealth was needed close at hand to support the scholars and the king. I will not go into the details for every other tribe but suffice it to say, they, too, were grouped together for good reason and placed around the Tabernacle in a manner that would take advantage of their unique talents.
For me this is a beautiful picture, that we are in our unique places for a reason, that our places and talents aren't the same, nor should they be. Yet all of who we are and what we do relates to that same center, the Tabernacle, the place of God's dwelling so that even though we may be very different, that's not a bad thing but is instead the very way that the world was designed to function.
Another lesson from the Torah reading was that we are not allowed to take on the roles assigned to another. "But let not [the Kohathites] go inside and witness the dismantling of the sanctuary, lest they die (Numbers 4:20)." In another post I briefly touched on some interpretations of this verse, but here I would point out that perhaps our death is due to lose of uniqueness. 'They' here could be ambiguous, it could be those whose job is to dismantle the sanctuary as well as those who encroached on another's sacred task. Surely when people lose a sense of the specialness of being who they are supposed to be, they are as one dead to the world? Especially when their demeanor is compared to the life and vitality displayed by one who has that sense of unique purpose, that sense of mattering?
The final piece for me this week was a youtube video of a Rabbi talking about plurality within Judaism. He brings up a wonderful teaching from Kabbalah about how God once filled the whole universe, but then contracted in order for there to be room for us as well. If God can do this for us, surely we in our different religions can do the same for each other? Rather than having to have all space be for us and ours, for us to instead be willing to contract, to leave a space for the 'other' and thus emulate God and God's concern for us.
It is a very tough thing to interact meaningfully across religious boundaries. Most of the time I give up on it as a waste of time and energy, yet perhaps, just perhaps, I have missed seeing the big picture of Bamidbar projected onto our lives today. It's something to think about.
'sing with me! na naa na naa na naa na naa naa na naa na naa na naa na naa naa louder! (continues)
in harmony! (continues)
with dancing! (continues) one two three four...
and in comes the band, hurling itself into the final song of the night.
this is a rich worship moment in a rather unlikely place...
the cover band i play with was winding up the evening at a local bar, and the crowd dancing and singing in front of the stage was, for the most part, not going to remember a whole lot in the morning. i looked at the dancers, smiles, arms waving in the air, hands open, voices hoarse from singing this wordless refrain over and over again at the top of their lungs, and felt a strange love and compassion that was, for me, a God thing... a moment of revelation.
in that moment i realized that leading worship can take place anywhere. as a matter of fact, i would contend that it must needs take place anywhere there are worshipers to be found.
and there are worshipers to be found everywhere. we were all created for this.
not necessarily for singing and dancing and such, but for the celebration of life and love through community fellowship and service to one another. God is glorified whenever these things happen because, in my view, all good things are of God and all bad things are good things that have been somehow compromised.
singing, dancing and celebration of life and love is a good thing. often when we think of the word 'worship' we default to ideas like singing and dancing and celebration of life and love.
now whether this worship is qualified or informed by knowledge or experience or even intention is probably a whole nother blog, but the notion that human beings can be engaged in the worship of God simply by partying is probably one that will raise (or furrow) some eyebrows unless i qualify it a bit.
see, every time i step onto a stage and strap a guitar on, whether it is at a church or a cabaret, there is this opportunity to lead others in musical worship. for me, it comes down to simply recognizing the opportunity to unite people rather than divide them, using this gift that has been entrusted to my care. i remember a lyric from a latter day larry norman song (scroll back a couple posts for more tribute to his wisdom and impact upon my thinking and believing) which states that Jesus is still the only reason I pick up my guitar.
that statement need not be cheesy... it could be a simple truth of intention, embraced and given open-ended expression.
don miller, on the last page of his book prayer and the art of volkswagen maintenance writes about a similar moment of revelation that arrested him while thoughtfully gazing at a sunrise: These mountains , which have seen untold suns rise, long to thunder praise but stand reverent, silent so that man's weak praise would be given God's full attention.
It is a great wonder that those exposed to such beauty forfeit their obedience in the face of this miraculous evidence.
indeed. Jesus echoes the same sentiment in luke 19.37-40. it appears that all of creation waits to sing the praises of almighty God, but God prefers to hear praises from humankind.
so why do we remain silent most of the time? and why do we need to be half smashed in order to sing and dance without inhibition?
perhaps it is because we are still so self-conscious (not to be confused with self-aware) that we need some form of external social lubricant to get over ourselves enough to engage in a freedom dance without feeling awkward. i mean, after the fall chronicled in genesis 3, the first thing that the people in the story do is look down and fixate upon their own shortcomings! (thanks for that one, david niven, 46th annual academy awards... google it)
it is from the fall that we have learned to live here not in healthy humility, but in unhealthy humiliation.
and again and again we see examples around us of situations where life on fallen planet earth is so characterized by pain, fear and failure that people need to deaden the feelings of these things significantly in order to relate, to connect, to even talk to each other- much less worship together. we have become so disconnected from God and each other through our own disobedience and stubbornness that the garden seems like little more than a distant dream- an idyllic paradise myth at best; a metaphor for either the loss of innocence or the awakening of metacognition at least.
but as i looked out from that stage at the dancers with the smiles on their faces, the hands in the air and the mouths open in song, i wondered if our local pub was not just another outpost of the rock and roll babylon franchise, but was in fact a twinkling glimmer of hope- or paradise regained- that, in this sphere can only be embraced and experienced for many while slightly merry, but which will one day be the way of things once our fallenness has truly fallen away and we are left completely naked before God and man, having no shame- only freedom.
