The Good Old Days

Posted: March 22, 2012 in Uncategorized
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Remember way back when Saddam was our proxy in the Middle East and we could count on Iraq to keep those pesky Iranians under control? Yes, those were the good old days. In the protracted war between the Babylonians and Persians, those ancient civilizations ever locked in combat, they just shed the blood until there was hardly a drop left for the sand to swallow up. Saddam was our foil. And as long as he was willing to do our bidding we turned our heads at little things like the gassing of the Kurds. He was ruthless, no doubt about it, but he kept the oil tap open. And of course, he was our chess piece against Iran.

Today we don’t have a Saddam, a strongman distraction. Instead, Israel and the United States have to rattle their own sabers. Attack, bomb Iran now? A preemptive attack? Really? Well, let’s at least get all the way out of Afghanistan so that both of our ten-year wars are complete before we start a new one. Is this becoming like … an addiction?

I suppose we should have given up making war on Iran for Lent.

Here’s something to consider: There is a pro-democracy movement in Iran. Our CIA tells us all about it. It gets painted by opposition as traitors, a movement colluding with outsiders, Western powers. Right now their hard-line secular leadership and fundamentalist clerics are starting to turn on one another, rather than on the pro-democracy folks. Might it be best to just let them duke it out?

At times like this you miss good old Saddam, our bird in the hand. We  sure could use him in a time like this. But like it or not, we’ve got to go it alone, do something ourselves. Or do we?

I’ve recently been enjoying volunteering at the Raptor Center at the Vet School here in Columbia. The birds of prey are phenomenal, rapturous:) Among other birds like owls, hawks, falcons and vultures there are the eagles, and the bald is one most known to us here in Missouri, especially as they winter along our waterways.

Not too long ago, in 1963, these birds were headed toward extinction. Conservationists counted around 500 nesting pairs in the lower 48. In 1978 they were declared an endangered species. Today, after years of protection, the count is more like 10,000 nesting pairs. Intentional protection made all the difference. What brought about the threat in the first place?

The answer is simple: shooting, habitat loss, pesticides.

Of course, unthinking people shot the birds. But more importantly their habitats along waterways – prime nesting places – were going away through unmindful development. The restoration of wetlands made a huge difference in eagle habitats. And then there were the insidious effects of fertilizers – especially DDT – that always runs off into water sources and up the food chain to the top predators, the raptors. Like lead poisoning in fish population is passed on to other species of fish or humans who consume them, eagles consumed the DDT-carrying prey.

Short story: It matters how we humans act as stewards of the environment. For years serious outdoors people, hunters, fishers and conservationists have been paying serious attention to native habitats. They know that every species, including our own, depends on them. And environmental groups that operate on the macro level address the egregious abuses that fall under the radar of most citizens.

We know why the eagles came back from the edge; it’s no mystery. And every time I see them soaring I am reminded again of the creation story in which the human creature is given dominion – stewardship – and what a real difference it makes.

For Hafiz

Posted: March 18, 2012 in Uncategorized
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Hafiz was the 14th century Sufi mystic and poet from Persia (present day Shiraz, Iraq). His life oscillated between the support of an adoring public and rejection by religious leaders who found him to be a threat. And so I dedicate the following to him, master of playful and deep verse, always leading just beyond the edge to the divine lover who may be hiding:

I turned my head, to rise
in time to see reflection,
holy garments in the skies,
turning the corner, asking
Why now, filled with sighs.
Why not, dear one? Fear pain
no more than clouds before rain,
  a rose reaching up and out
through winter snows,
the only way your love will grow.

TLC, 2012

Most usually the reality of a thing is distorted in direct proportion to our distance from it. Like Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, for instance.

The Irish are amused by our American pretending around their heritage. Well, of course, there are lots of descendents of the Irish here; I’m one of them. But our presentation of Patrick and his day is a far stretch from how the Irish observe it. And that is understated. After mass they might head next door to the pub and lift a glass. But that’s it, no fanfare, no green pennants and parades. It’s a saint’s day.

I don’t know how the real Patrick, rather than the mythical one we’ve created, would take us. How would he respond to hearing his name chanted as an incantation during drunken brawls? Would he be shocked? Or bemused?

Patrick lived and died sometime in the 400s AD. He was probably born in Britain, when it was still a part of the Roman Empire. He was captured and forced into slavery in Ireland for six years, but escaped. Later, by the strangest turn of providence, he returned to the land of his enslavement, Ireland, as a missionary, and then as bishop. The only reliable sources we have about his life are two documents written in Latin called his Confession and a Letter. All the other lore was created later, as people mythologized him. For me none of that is necessary; his life is a remarkable testimony as it is.

Patrick’s life was propelled by two dreams. The first dream came to him when he was a slave in Ireland. He was told that his ship was waiting. The ship was a great distance away, but he ran away and found it in harbor, setting sail for Britain and his family.

After he was home, reunited with his family, he had another dream. This word was different. He was to go back to the place of his enslavement, Ireland. Imagine how he might have responded to that. “Uh, huh, you want me to go back?” But he did. And this time he was not the slave of earthly masters but rather a heavenly one.

Patrick labored in the vineyard thirty years, sharing the Gospel with kings and chieftains. When one king was converted he would ask if the king’s sons would go with him to visit the next king down the road. And so on.

At the end of his Letter he shared a parting hope:

I now commend my soul to God, for whom, despite my obscurity, I have served as ambassador. Indeed, in choosing such a lowly person as me for this noble task, God has shown that He is no respecter of persons. May God never separate me from His people on this island, which stands at the very edge of the earth. And my God always make me a faithful witness of His saving love, until He calls me to heaven.

Where is the Temple?

Posted: March 16, 2012 in Uncategorized
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In my soul
there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church
where I kneel

Prayer should bring us to an altar where no walls or names exist

In my soul there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church
that dissolve in God

Rabia of Basra
(Sufi mystic 717-801)

Courting Daffodils

Posted: March 13, 2012 in Uncategorized

I naively thought that wearing a yellow shirt would do it
seduce them with my charms, some flattery by imitation
They were neither impressed nor excited
I had not slept the winter waiting for the moment
when I burst onto the spring scene, all color
I had not timed my appearance with earth’s sap rising
No, I had done none of these
Though too polite to say such things out loud
I did hear their whispering to the Bradford Pear and Forsythia:
So look who thinks he’s a daffodil!

The Alban Institute recently sent out a blog post that included excerpts from a new book by Stephen Chapin Garner and Jerry Thornell. It comes from their new book, Scattering Seeds:Cultivating Church Vitality. Garner is not only pastor of his New England church but professor of pastoral studies at the Boston University School of Theology.

Worship and Education for All
by Stephen Chapin Garner , Jerry Thornell

Over the past decade, worship attendance, annual giving, and participation in Christian education have doubled at the United Church of Christ in Norwell, Massachusetts. We have learned that tending to growth requires tending to worship and education for all ages. Arguably the most significant shift in our congregation has been our emphasis on education and worship for all. Like many mainline Protestant churches in our country, worship and church school for children were held at the same time. Parents and other adults worshiped upstairs while children attended church school downstairs. The children were invited to join in worship when there was a children’s message, or when it was Youth Sunday. Even on the surface of this arrangement we recognized numerous flaws.

First, and most immediately pressing, was that issue of recruiting church school teachers. Because church school was held during worship, and because worship was an engaging activity for adults, most adults avoided teaching because they didn’t want to miss Sunday’s service. There was also the significant issue of teacher education. We were offering a fairly paltry assortment of Christian education opportunities for adults, which meant that the only time adults really learned anything about their faith was during worship. If teachers couldn’t attend worship, that meant they were not learning themselves, and if they were not learning themselves, what were they prepared to teach our children? This was most glaringly apparent in the fact that our minister of children’s education never had the opportunity to attend worship. While teachers taught only a few sessions at most during a given program year, our minister of children’s education was downstairs in our basement classrooms all year long. In that educational model, the leading educator of our children never had the opportunity to worship or learn more about the Christian faith.

A cursory examination of our educational program revealed that there were glaring issues, but what slowly came into greater focus was the implicit and unacceptable message we were giving to the members and friends of our congregation. Having adults worshiping God at the same time that our children were in church school communicated that Christian education for adults was not important and that having children participate in worship was not important. We had not intended to send such a careless message, but our church tradition and convention was communicating just that—children needed only education, and grown-ups needed only worship.

Once we realized the unhealthy faith dynamic we were sustaining, we knew it had to change if we were going to grow in faith as a community. Due to teacher recruitment issues, over the years we had convened different task forces to look into other educational models we might employ. We came to the conclusion that our course ahead would involve more education and commitment on the part of church staff and membership. We knew that worship was more like an educational vitamin supplement than a full meal, and we knew that if children didn’t learn to worship it was unlikely that they would ever acquire the taste for it. We began to suspect that expanding to a two-hour model for education and worship on Sunday morning was the path we needed to take. However, we were reluctant to break from our traditional model, largely, and personally, because of fear. We knew our educational model was spiritually unhealthy and structurally compromised, and it was unclear if anyone had the courage and resolve to make a change that might fix it.

With the encouragement of council, I drafted a proposal for a new approach to worship and education, and the church followed it. Thankfully, church leadership recognized the importance of the situation we were in and acted to strengthen our educational ministries by enacting an initiative that offered education and worship for everyone. We would extend our Sunday morning offerings to allow for comprehensive adult education and worship participation for our children. We were choosing to learn together and to worship together.

The transition was surprisingly smooth at first, with some immediate and truly hopeful results. The opportunity to offer adult Christian education on Sunday mornings reinvigorated our adult Christian education ministry team, and within short order we were able to offer several different adult education classes every Sunday morning. Because of our limited offerings in previous years, this meant that participation by adults in Christian education hit levels we had never seen before. On any given Sunday we would have dozens of adults gathering for Bible studies, book studies, and classes on spiritual disciplines and other topics. Not only that, it suddenly became much easier to recruit children’s church school teachers because church school was no longer competing with Sunday worship for adult involvement. Without question, the number of young children in our program declined due to a lack of willingness by some parents to commit to an extra hour of church on Sunday morning. That said, with the addition of our middle school and high school Bible study classes, the participation of our teenagers on Sunday mornings ballooned. While we always long for a deeper commitment to education by more members of our congregation, we could not ignore the fact that the life and vitality of our church had been enhanced by increased time spent together in educational activities.

Of course, “Education for All” invariably meant we would be engaging in “Worship for All.” The adjustment to having even our youngest children in worship proved to be more challenging than adding an extra hour to our Sunday morning experience. We tried our best to prepare for the transition in worship. We still provided nursery care for infants and toddlers, we made sure we had activity bags made up and set out for families with children who might struggle to pay attention, and we even offered Sunday morning classes for parents about how to parent in the pew. Even with those preparations in place, the children struggled, as did their parents. Our first month or two of worshiping together was undeniably noisy. Thankfully, after several months, we noticed that children were becoming accustomed to being in worship for an hour. Our services became less noisy. And the children began to actively participate in the leadership of the service. Learning together, worshiping together, and being together in fellowship are worth the challenges that come with just such a transition.

It is important to note that the particular challenges we faced during our time of transition still persist to this day. The objection to forcing our congregation to get up and get going even earlier on Sunday morning struck a chord with me. Sunday was supposed to be the Sabbath, and perhaps our increased educational demands were stripping families of some of that sacred time. The most difficult aspect of our transition was the realization that education, worship, and fellowship within Christ’s community are not priorities for everyone. Parents value secular education, and they have higher expectations for their children in school than they do for their children when it comes to faith education. For many families, organized sports are more important than organized religion. And many people refuse to take on much if any responsibility at all for the religious education of children. Some parents don’t want to teach their children how to worship, and plenty of adults still refuse to teach church school. With the increased educational expectations of our church has come the increased realization that matters of faith often inhabit a rather peripheral location in our human and cultural landscape. This reality is certainly disappointing to those of us who make faith a priority, but it is helpful information when making decisions in the church.

Now when we make a program decision in the church, we always try to determine what is best for the spiritual growth and development for our people, not what is easiest. The church’s role is not to make life easier for people but to teach people how to live life better.

It is distraction that spins us
toward the static
buzzing like bees
and the digital stream
a noisy servant

nevertheless

beneath the dense cloud
there is an astounding grotto
silently sleeping, beckoning us
to enter

A Prayer of Dag Hammarskjold

Posted: March 7, 2012 in Uncategorized

Give me …

A pure heart – that I may see you
A humble heart – that I may hear you
A heart of love – that I may serve you
A heart of faith – that I may abide in you

As usual, the True/False Film Festival drew thousands to Columbia, Missouri to view forty documentary films over the three day event. The array is always intriguing and sometimes downright baffling. But the festival has risen to the ranks of top drawer documentary film festivals in the world. One sign is the 25,000 people who attend, many of whom travel great distances to do so.

Timing may not be everything, but it is something. Just a few days before True/False, the film, Undefeated, took an Oscar. The producers brought it with them just to prove it. What really mattered, however, was the project itself, one that shined a bright light on the power of leadership and team to transcend circumstance.

Coaching, like many other endeavors, is far more than the sport at hand. It is really about building individuals and communities, releasing hidden potential waiting to let itself loose into the world. This is a film about that, real people struggling to find themselves and excavate pride from the dumpsters of backwater society. North Memphis isn’t the only place on the planet to benefit, though it has. The real story is the way hope is born on one field and then spreads to every other one where vision and love triumph. That’s what Undefeated does.