I’ve been reading Edwin Gaustad’s Faith of the Founders: Religion and the New Nation 1776-1826 (Baylor University Press, 2004). In a time when reference to our national founders is often framed in vast generalities and often ideologically driven, Gaustad’s research is refreshing and nuanced.

One of his observations opened a new level of comprehension in me, namely, that the world of church-state issues did not suddenly commence  in 1776. Nearly two centuries of colonial life – and its religion – preceded the revolution. And knowing what realities were at work during the colonial period is essential to understanding what would follow.

The truths that were evident to Thomas Jefferson were certainly not for the colonists that preceded him. The Church of England would go where England went. And except for a robust presence of congregationalists – Puritans and Quakers – the Anglicans dominated the middle states. And so, the religious tensions and struggles of the England, struggles for pre-emminance,  continued in the colonies.  In fact, the freedom of practice and non-establishment that Jefferson would later champion was fairly non-existent. The leaders of the colonists, clerics and political officials alike, pretty well understood that it would take a united presence of state and established church to make a go of it. Which religious expression would prevail, of the few choices, would be the real question.

The dominance of the Church of England prevailed right up to the revolution. Exceptions were to be found in New England and particular colonies, such as Pennsylvania. The way that William Penn normalized broad tolerance of diverse religious expressions became exemplary. And the way Pennsylvania flourished – economically – proved that religious tolerance was not only possible, but preferable.

Resistance to imposed religious conformity came early, and people like Roger Williams continued to insist that religious persecution for non-conformity was the greatest of evils. The countless persecutions, torture, inquisitions and burnings for the sake of enforcing the one true religion were to stay behind where they belong, in the history of England and other countries. They were not to  continue in the new republic. Penn wrote that all religious expressions “shall in no ways be molested or prejudiced for their religious persuasion or practice in matters of faith ad worship, nor shall they be compelled at any time to frequent or maintain any religious worship, place, or ministry whatever.” His words became precursor to what would become national doctrine penned by the likes of Jefferson, Madison and others.

The American Revolution changed everything, especially as regarded religious spheres. Anglicans were dis-established and as English influence waned, so did the absolutest claims of any other religious body. The first amendment, with its freedom of practice and non-establishment clauses, sealed that social compact. It was really only then that the many religious traditions began to immigrate and multiply, leading to the present religious mosaic we know today.

Those who would like to take us back to pre-revolutionary religious times in America, some kind of theocracy, would do well to revisit their history. A decision was made – a good one I think – that broad religious tolerance and the non-establishment of any religious body should be the way of things. So it has been and in my book, so it should remain.

Years ago a friend heard one of the challenging parables of Jesus and it so confounded him that he’s never gotten over it. No matter how much time has passed, whenever I see him he brings it up. “That parable,” he says, “is just wrong. That can’t be the way God is. It’s not fair …” And so it goes. The truth is that we don’t always like Jesus or what he says.

I’ve thought about that over the years, how the message of Jesus and, by extension, our preaching and teaching about his message, confounds and disturbs us. I don’t like it all, though I struggle to accept or apply it to my life. I fall so short of his vast vision of God and humanity that I often feel judged. That’s the point, of course, to realize the difference between who we are and could be. And Jesus had an uncanny way of exposing our little self-deceptions. We usually don’t appreciate it when someone challenges our little versions of the way things are.

So people shouldn’t feel comforted every time they hear the words of Jesus. Like me and my friend, they should, from time to time, feel disturbed. If not, if we’re not feeling discomforted some of the time, we’re probably not being faithful to the Gospel. The good news sometimes sounds bad.

Similarly, there’s a lot we don’t always get, don’t understand or comprehend. If I were always able to say, “Oh, I understand everything I find here,” I would be reading, hearing, some little children’s version of the Bible or theology or the challenge of Jesus. Truth be told, I shouldn’t get it all the time. I shouldn’t understand everything. If I do, I’m probably ingesting mother’s milk, but not adult food. And even so, my finite mind will never be able to get around the infinite part or all of the time. If I do believe that I am able to get it all the time, with my finite understanding, I’m probably not really struggling with an infinite word, but rather a weakened, diminished little version, one I think I can control.

There’s much we don’t like and much we don’t get, but that’s not a bad thing. If we liked everything and got everything it would be real cause for concern. Liking everything and getting everything is the verification that we are not encountering a mysterious and infinite God but something else, a watered down little pablum.

So go ahead and cringe when Jesus spins his God stories. And wrinkle up your face and say, “Huh?” Leave your Bible study or worship or devotional time shrugging your shoulders and shaking your head. If you understand too much and like too much it’s the sure sign you’re headed the wrong way.

The internationally known Celtic artist, Nóirín Ní Riain will be in our own Columbia the first part of Advent! This is actually part of a St Louis – Columbia – Kansas City Missouri tour. Our date is the Tuesday after the first Sunday of Advent, November 29, 7:00 p.m. It will be held in the sanctuary of Broadway Christian Church.

Noirin is known for working in the Celtic spiritual traditions and she has recorded with the Monks of
Glenstal Abbey. With occasions to play for the Dali Lama and represent Ireland in other internationals gatherings, her reach has been significant. She travels with her two instrumentalist sons, “the lads.” One of her well known CDs is Celtic Soul– a gathering of the spiritual traditions. She will be sharing a variety of music at the concert but some of it will reflect the traditions of Advent.

We are also working on putting together a Columbia workshop on Celtic spirituality.

Her home page: http://www.theosony.com/ (Nice, eh? Theosony: God and Sound)
And here is Paul Winter’s write up on her on his page: http://www.livingmusic.com/biographies/noirin.html
For a little video clip of her tribute to Bridget, one of the foremost saints in Ireland, here you go: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2v8qxFo3nxM
Put it on your calendar now!

So she came through the “shake the hand of the pastor” line after worship. There was that moment of faint recognition: “Wait, I know you and you know me.” Then came the realization – YOU! She was a teenager in my very first church. And now, 20 years later, she is a professional woman with a child under her wing.  Suddenly there is the time travel, the going back, retracing the steps of the past, with one, two, three, scores of people in multiple events. The one person provides access to a different time and place.

And that’s how it works, our time travel, that is really chapter upon chapter of life, sandwiched into our memory and experience. If we live fully in each chapter that is given, they accumulate, relationships layering our way, enriching our community of the living and the dead. There is a cloud of witnesses, and loved ones, and losses. All together they comprise  our little  slice of life.

Imagine all those slices side by side, layered and variegated, informing one another and completing the big story as well.

Now. Then. Tomorrow. All the same thing, really. And then there is timelessness and placelessness, transcending any time and any place.  My God, it’s an ocean, a galaxy, light years of infinite space, and what is beyond it. And all right here, in this coffee cup, ceiling fan, news of disaster, the fog across the fields.

Last week I had the opportunity to listen to teacher and author, Lauren Winner, read excerpts from a forthcoming book. Winner, known for her spiritual autobiography, Girl Meets God, chronicled her journey from orthodox Judaism to the Christian faith. That was ten years ago. And now, her book that will be published after the first of the year deals with a faith that is not new, but in the middle passages. Her insights are raw and honest, balancing real doubt with real hope. I can’t wait.

She made one comment, almost in passing, that rang so very true with me. Because her first book – especially touted by those who live in a piety of first conversion stories – dealt with finding this Jesus and finding her Jewish resting place with him, she is often kept in that beginning place by well-meaning people who forget that life and faith unfold. They also want the conversion story told over and over because that’s what they value in their particular tradition.

What Winner disclosed was how faith moves on, the beginnings serving as just that, beginnings. Most of life is not the beginning, but unfolds after it. And it is thick, messy and uneven. One of her personal challenges is that when people come to know her through Girl Meets God they tend to keep her there, as one frozen in time.

But that’s not the way things are. The person she was is still within her, she explained, but as a living memory. In that respect, her present day person is both continuous and discontinuous with her earlier self. Oh, yes, it is there. But no, it isn’t. Like looking back at our own photographs of 10, 20, or 50 years ago, we see the person from whence we have come, one earlier layer of the whole self we are now.

I think that this insight holds a powerful truth and a corresponding challenge.

Can we expect ourselves to be multi-layered beings, allowing life to unfold and transform in time? And can we offer that same expectation to others as a kind of blessing on their spiritual lives and paths? Are we able to rejoice in what was and also what is yet to be?

If we get teary at the birth of children, weddings and funerals it is because the huge turning of the wheel is unambiguously revealed. We’re all moving targets, every one, and buried inside that continuous movement is a presence and power that is as ancient as the beginning of the world and as new as its future. And we’re becoming new creatures on top of that, within it, because of it.

Hush. Don’t say a word. Just soak up the mystery.

On Tuesday, August 9, All God’s Children made its public debut at a news conference. This new program of Broadway Christian Church, Columbia, Missouri, includes children with disabilities and their families in the religious education and worship of the church.

The ministry officially begins on September 11. That will be preceded by an open house on Sunday, September 21, 4-5:30 p.m. and volunteer training on Saturday, August 27, 11:00 – 4:00 p.m.

To read the news article and watch the video carried by KOMU, click here: http://www.komu.com/news/church-to-offer-special-needs-sunday-school/

To read the article in the Missourian, click here: http://www.columbiamissourian.com/stories/2011/08/11/sunday-school-program-children-special-needs-broadway-christian-church/

The read the article in the Columbia Daily Tribune, click here: http://www.columbiatribune.com/news/2011/aug/13/program-puts-focus-on-childrens-needs/

Taking the Tunas Cutoff

Posted: August 9, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags:

If you start in Camdenton, Missouri, in the square where Highways 5 and 54 intersect, and head due west you’ll eventually cross the Niangua bridge, and just the other side of that pass the turn off to the town of Roach. If you continue further and head downhill for a few miles you cross right through Macks Creek. On the left you’ll see a house that used to belong to Alice Creach, though now she’s gone to glory. On the right are some simple store fronts and one of them used to be Bill’s Cafe where on Saturday evenings a long time ago they used to have open mic night. As you continue on out of Mack’s Creek, heading uphill, you’ll eventually come to a turn off, a two lane road that if you follow it will cut off a big corner on the way to Buffalo. The locals call this the Tunas cut off because on the way you pass through what’s left of the little town of Tunas. This rural burg is comprised of a few mostly unoccupied buildings surrounded by pasture and fields. But Tunas is where Leo and Etta Tucker lived.

I knew Leo and Etta thirty years ago and they were elderly then. Leo was a hulking frame of a man who, when you shook his hand, it felt like you were holding a ham. He had round spectacles that were as thick as the bottom of a coke bottle.  And he was a little bent over with a bad back or knees or whatever else he abused during years of hard work.

Etta was half of Leo’s size, a diminutive woman who looked up at you with a big toothy smile. She always wore a simple dress that had flowers of on it. Never any jewelry.

You see, I was their pastor. It was my first church out of seminary and I was green. But that didn’t seem to matter to that congregation because they just decided to love me up into what I might become.

Just recently I was traveling that way and decided to take the Tunas cutoff. I clocked the distance from Tunas to the church in Camdenton: 25 miles one way.

At the time, and as a young man, it didn’t occur to me that the Tuckers from Tunas were making a 50 mile round trip each and every Sunday. They were just there. I expected them.

But now, years later, I think back to  their sabbath devotion and it brings me pause. I didn’t consider the obvious sacrifice this represented to them at the time. But it certainly was a sacrifice for this couple that had to be in their 80s. It makes me feel soft, complaining as I have about little inconveniences I might have to endure in my life. Whenever I am tempted to take the easy, but not best road, I think of them, Leo and Etta, shaking my hand after services, thanking me for the sermon, heading outside, getting in the car, and driving back home to Tunas.

Emptying and Filling

Posted: August 6, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags:

Hadewijch II looked on from her 13th century perch, or every century perch, or the infinity the collapses every century into one slice of time, and she saw the table, chair and sink; couch, bed, and bath; dish, cup and spoon; eggs, cheese and grapes; pad, pencil and books; window to the untamed world outside and roof over this little one.

“A good start,” she said, “but …”

Tighten
to nothing
the circle
that is
the world’s things.

Then the naked
circle
can grow wide,
enlarging,
embracing all

Yesterday evening I attended a vespers service that dealt with suffering, brokenness and our ever present need to receive and extend forgiveness. And as a part of that our worship leader of the evening, a Franciscan monk, read a prayer I had seen a long time ago. It is ever fresh and amazing.

The anonymous prayer was found on a piece of wrapping paper in Ravensbruck, the largest of the concentration camps for women in Nazi Germany.

O Lord, remember not only the men and women of good will
but also those of ill will.
Do not remember all the suffering they have inflicted upon us;
remember the fruits we brought, thanks to this suffering:
our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility,
the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart
which have grown out of this;
and when they come to judgment,
let all the fruits we have borne
be their forgiveness.

It happened again. I opened a local magazine, thumbed through a few pages, and the side bar jumped off the page: TRENDING NOW.  That’s the same category I find every time I open the home page of my web browser. Click here to get the top ten most trending things. It’s even on this blogspot. What’s trending right now. I mean, what are the hot potatoes? Oh, wow.

Major False Assumption 1: What is trending is important.

Major False Assumption 2: Because everyone else happens to be interested I should be.

Major False Assumption 3: If I give attention to what is trending I’ll be more relevant.

I suggest a new movement of untrendiness. Is that a word? Well, it is now. Today, I officially announce its opening and to succeed it will require vast input from others who can think of some very important untrendy items to populate our list.

I will begin, but that means nothing without the rest of the list. The number 1 can be so lonely without 2, 3 and 4…

NOT TRENDING NOW

Creating a hand-written note, sealing it in an envelope, stamping it, and dropping it in a mailbox