The Case of Penn State: When Good People Pay the Price for Mistakes

One thing is for sure about this Penn State scandal…we don’t know the whole story. One can only hope those making some pretty major decisions there now have a lot more info than we do. To be sure, this really isn’t a Penn State story—not one that does or should define it. But like every other organization affected by revelations of such horrors (something the Church is familiar with) there is no way to separate the rest of the organization from the actions of one person. This understandably makes people angry. But there is no way around it.

This is why, I suspect, the Trustees are being rather aggressive (which has drawn rather epic negative response). If you are at all familiar with the legal (and financial) settlements that churches have had to pay in case of child abuse, I suspect you only have seen a fraction of the financial exposure (to say nothing of the PR risk) that this whole thing places on the doorstep of Penn State. This could cripple the university. Seriously. No joke. I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing if I was in their place--I do honestly think they're trying to make every effort to handle the situation, which is, I think, the best they can do now, and hope that it will somehow mitigate the financial settlements Penn State will be smacked with.

I won’t attempt to speak to the loyalty many have for Joe Paterno—or the frustration at how he seems to be suffering perhaps a harsher penalty from the Penn State than the two others already indicted for lying to the grand jury (not to mention possibly many others who also knew). I don’t question the deep respect people have for him or that he is anything other than the epic personality that people hold him to be. But even really good people can make really big mistakes--and these big mistakes often seem rather small at the time.

I don’t know what happened here. I do know that even he expressed a wish, in hindsight, that he had done more. Sometimes a really good person makes a really big mistake that even a great deal of “good-ness” can’t make go away.

In the Church, we are, sadly, far too familiar with abuse incidents than perhaps almost any other field. This is both because of the cases which have occurred in religious settings but also because we see the terrible costs of these incidents in people’s lives—the lives of victims, perpetrators and families. This is not new—in my ministry I have come across older adults who were abused years ago and never told anyone—or who were not believed.

So I am terribly, terribly sad for the children whose lives were affected by Sandusky. I think the prosecutors are probably correct to believe there are many other victims out there. Not all cases of abuse are the same, and not all perpetrators are the serial abusers that Sandusky seems to have been. He appears to be the very sort of person that so many policies are written for.

At Calvary, like all other United Methodist Churches, we have a Safe Sanctuary policy. It isn’t perfect, and we are always working to refine and clarify it and implement it more and more effectively. From time to time we have to deal with folks who take issue with having a policy at all. Here’s the thing though, no one expected this sort of thing could happen at a place like Penn State. Because I truly believe that if people really did, then they would have worked harder to make sure it didn’t. There’s a great tendency to denial in all of us. Of not wanting to see, of not wanting to think the things you see on TV are, actually possible. Or a conviction that “it couldn’t happen here.” Ironically, it is the places most convinced “It couldn’t happen here” (and hence without strong, implemented policies) that can be some of the dangerous places.

These boys should never have had to undergo this abuse. Successful, good men who have done a great deal of good should not have to have their careers end this way. This is not the way things should be. But something—actually iit seems many things—went wrong here. And I think what we are seeing is what I hope are well-meaning people who are trying to hold things together, protect their school from risks that could really tangibly affect every aspect of its operation, and yes, I think, people trying to do the right thing.

If there’s anything we’ve been reminded of, it is that there are sometimes difference between doing just what rules or laws require and doing the right thing. And that sometimes, despite the risks of doing the right thing, the risks of not doing the right thing, or hiding behind doing just what is required, are far worse.

No, I don’t know all the details. I will be paying attention, because unfortunately this is an issue that I have to deal with regularly—as we attempt to have policies that allow kids to be kids, adults to teach them about God and care for them, all in ways that protect everyone. It’s not an easy thing to do. It is indeed a very hard thing to do.

I do not at all envy the position the Penn State Trustees are in. I have no doubt that whatever they have decided and have yet to decide, there will be fierce critics. I hope, however, that we can try to appreciate the terrible, terrible situation they are in, a position that I think none of us would ever want to be in.

A Treatise in Favor of Early-Christmasers

At Calvary, we began working on Advent and Christmas planning over the summer. As church holidays go, Lent and Easter and Advent and Christmas are the busy, important seasons. So while we have tons to do in between those, we generally find ourselves anchoring our worship and program planning around those times of the year.

Which is why it always takes me by surprise a bit when the anti-early-celebrating-of-Christmas sentiment takes hold of so many this time of year. I understand people having their own practices of when to start preparing for Christmas, but what I find quite disappointing is the arrogance and condescension which is directed, at times, at the (what I’ll call) early-Christmasers. What’s even more disappointing is that much of the most virulent anti-early-Christmasing seems to be perpetrated in the name of faithfulness to Christianity…for some reason.

Let’s examine a few things. First, no one actually knows what day Jesus was born. Perhaps the best argument for the time of our current celebration has both to do with calculations from (an equally uncertain) date of conception as well as pagan winter celebrations. Personally, I agree with the legions of scholars and others who believe it was set on Dec. 25 to coincide (or perhaps even compete against) pagan winter solstice celebrations. From a purely psychological standpoint, having a big celebration in the middle of an otherwise terribly depressing (and dark—hence seasonal affective disorder) season seems like a good idea for everyone. And, actually, particularly so for northern Europeans.

But perhaps we don’t mind that. We’re content to hold fast and aggressively to church tradition. Cool. I like church tradition too. But what sense does it make for a pastor to start planning for Christmas so early if everyone else isn’t allowed to do the same (so perhaps they don’t have to pick a theme for Christmas Eve—maybe their Christmas involves Christmas music—do only pastors get to look ahead to Christmas?).

Another area of this whole debate seems to be how early Christmas stuff goes into stores. Okay, can we just all agree that whatever else, the retail industry does not get to make Christian theological statements? This would be along the same lines as saying that, actually, CNN and Fox News don’t get to decide who is Christian and who is not.

Now, one might astutely point out that many people are not well-connected to a Christian community in which they can learn the theological teachings of the church and so yes, for them, Walmart may have a certain theological impact. But what could that possibly be? Personally, I’m more concerned about the commercialization of Christmas than when it begins. And I don’t actually think we need help trying to make Christmas (or anything else for that matter) about ourselves. That is, after all, the very definition of SIN.

Oh, and by the way, early Christians would probably be more confused by our focus upon Christmas at all than when we started celebrating it. EASTER (and Lent) FAR outpace Christmas in importance to Christmas. Two of the Gospels (yes, a whopping 50%) do not contain a birth narrative. This is not to say the birth narratives are unimportant, but that they pale in comparison to the theological import of Lent and Easter. I’d like to see if the same people who criticize others for the theological inappropriateness of their Christmas timing or celebrations actually reflect this particular theological difference in their lives.

Some seem to see some sacred value in waiting until after Thanksgiving to begin preparations for Christmas. That’s cool. But it frustrates me, again, when this personal preference takes the form of criticism or snide remarks to or about others. As if they think Thanksgiving is a Christian holiday which fits on the same liturgical calendar as Christmas. Seriously? It’s a national holiday. The date was set by Lincoln. Giving thanks is indeed a basic Christian practice. The holiday is not, however, a church holiday. Incidentally—Halloween (with its own Christian and pagan origins and more so All Saints which follows) probably has more theological foundation in historic Christianity than Thanksgiving.

Here’s the last point I’ll make. And it is really the crux of what upsets me when people get all stressed out about how other people celebrate Christmas. I’ll concede that for many, Christmas today misses the point. And that it has, perhaps, still today (as maybe even at its beginning) more in common with pagan practices than the theological legitimacy lended to it by Jesus’ birth. I’ll concede that commercialism has run off with the holiday for many. But you know what, for part of the year, a bunch of people who never darken the doors of a church are surrounded not just by the commercialism of all of this, but sometimes, bits of the Christian story. They are reminded of the joy of giving to others, and of how to receive a gift (like we receive the gift of Jesus). It makes people happy in the midst of what would otherwise be a cold, dark few months. And some of these people even manage to find their ways into a church. Maybe just once, for an hour or so. But you know what, I think that’s a good thing. For all the ways that Christmas is not in touch with the nativity, it is one of the most powerful evangelism events we have all year.

Personally, I probably won’t decorate till after Thanksgiving. And sometimes I don’t even get a tree till a couple weeks before Christmas. It is, after all, a busy time for me. I like getting to listen to Christmas music—a time or two—over the summer and more as the fall leads into winter. And I don’t think that makes me a bad person. Walmart and Target do not actually define my theology, and it takes nothing from me if they put their Christmas stuff up in…July (who are we kidding, it’s coming…). If that means just one more person will have one more moment to be reminded of the story of Jesus and God’s love for us…then that’s a good thing.

You know what got me thinking on this? Driving in to a meeting last night, I saw a house with Christmas lights on (I assumed Christmas lights, but who knows, maybe they were something totally different). And my gut reaction was to wonder what on earth their problem was. Then I caught myself…who I am I criticize them? Maybe someone on the same road will see the lights. And think of Christmas. And maybe be reminded of Jesus for a moment. And if we Christians have done a good job living lives of love, generosity and grace, it just might bring a smile to their face and who knows what God will be able to make of that one moment…?

More from Generation to Generation

In my last post, I ended by starting to share some quotes (albeit out context) from Edwin Friedman's Generation to Generation. I"ve actually been using that book as I work on my second of two sermons for this Sunday, this one being for our new service The Sanctuary. We're doing a summer series where we look at a different secular song each time, and this week the song is "Mean" by Taylor Swift. I'm using Romans 12:19-21 as the scripture.

19  Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God;  for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord."  20  No, "if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads."  21  Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

It seemed appropriate, then, to approach this through the lens of systems theory, and how we should be conducting ourselves when others are being dysfunctional. Or, better put, we find ourselves in a dysfunctional, unhealthy system.

So, here are some more quotes from Generation to Generation:

• In fact, much of what we label stress is the response of the organism rather than the impact of the environment. (63)
• Effective healing occurs when the counselor is less anxious to relieve the symptom and instead uses it as a pathway into the emotional system. (71)
• The capacity of congregational members to view us objectively is directly related to the degree of differentiation they were able to achieve from their real parents. (149)
• The notion that people might not be able to "take" the truth probably has more to do with the anxiety of the individuals who are thinking that way. (172)
• A wedding is like an iceburg: only one-eighth of the moving mass will be visible, but the process and decision usually have the impetus of generations of build-up. (179)
• Individuals who are satisfied in their own marriage rarely react intensely to another's. (180)
• On the topic of triangulation and burnout, "Resting and refreshment do not change triangles." (216)
• Three problems with consensus: (227)
• The family led by consensus will tend to be less imaginative.
• Leaderless groups are more easily panicked and the anxiety tends of cascade.
• Emphasis on consensus gives strength to the extremists.

Well, that ends things I'd underlined, and certainly isn't the best summary of the book (in the course of flipping through I got drawn in, and am only sad I can't paste in whole pages...well, really then entire book). Good stuff.

On Feedback Loops

As I was driving in this morning, I started thinking about feedback loops. There, sitting in her carseat in the row behind me, was my daughter Anna. At eight and a half months, Anna is, by most accounts, a remarkably good baby. She travels well (once we figured out she doesn't like feeling alone in the back seat on long car rides), has been great as we've hauled her along to numerous conferences and meetings, and just generally has a great disposition. Which is what has perhaps made this week so rough. She's just been, well, a bit fussier than normal. Not ridiculous. I suspect she's probably still been better (thank God) than many of her peers :-)

Last night, in keeping with her mood this week, was just kind of ridiculous. She's been stirring more at night, but then, we've only recently finally ditched the swaddle, and have been trying to ditch the sleep sac too and just adjust her pajamas and the thermostat accordingly (gives her a bit more ability to move around when she's awake--which is probably a mixed blessing). She's (hopefully) finally getting over a cough that's dragged on a bit, and who knows what else is going on in her body and life right now--she's hitting all sorts of milestones lately, and seems to be able to do something new each day! All of this is fertile soil for sleep disturbances, for sure. Not to mention the general stress level in our house that usually accompanies (or has built towards) the end of summer camp--and things ramping up for me at church.

Thinking back on last night, though, I must admit I thought I was quite beyond the early days with her of getting mad AT her. I mean, I've been frustrated with being woken up, for sure. But last night, as it began to occur to me that I (and Chris) had perhaps been awake with her more than I'd been asleep, it was impossible for me to not feel upset. At her. Which is silly. Chris and I learned in her early weeks that when that feeling crept up on one of us, it was a good time to switch off. Much better to tag team than to stay together with her and both get equally stressed at the same time. Some nights, though, when there is such a gap between expectations and reality (that's how I always understand when I'm most upset--last night there was the expectation of perhaps one wake up, not a whole series of them) it's hard not to be drawn into a feedback loop.

Feedback loops can be great when the feedback is positive. God bless positive feedback loops--when joy and happiness and even success just feed more of each.

But then there are the not so great feedback loops. Like tired parents on just such a night. Or family members in the midst of crisis. Or coworkers caught in negative attitudes about others or their work.

Several years ago, when I was doing my second field education placement while at Duke (think ministry internship) during the summer before my third and last year there, I worked with Scott, a pastor who was a wonderful mentor for me. And also very similar to me. My first mentor the summer before, Lewis, had also been great, but had perhaps one of the personalities most different from mine possible--he was so laid back, and calm. Not lazy at all, but serene, I would say. I was so blessed to work with each man, more than I could ever say, but I learned different lessons from each.

Scott and I were both pretty Type-A, and workaholics. The problem was I am a morning person and he was much more of a night person. So that summer, it all started innocently enough--I'd get an early start to the day, he'd get working later in the morning, and when he'd keep going on work into the evening, I'd head home. But then we started feeding off each other's schedules--he started getting at things earlier and I would keep at work later. It wasn't long before, between sermon prep, meetings, visits, and all our other duties, we were both worn out. It was Scott who recognized what was happening--that we'd created a feedback loop where though neither was putting any expectations on the other beyond what each would normally do, we'd both taken on the other's schedule without adjusting our own.

Once Scott identified that, we got better. When one of us chose to work early or later, we'd make sure to work on tasks the other wasn't needed for --and we'd be sure they knew that. I learned from Scott, from his sharing his own experiences, of the dangers of burnout--and I learned from him ways to attend to myself before it reached that.

I suspect we all face a whole slew of feedback loops in our lives and relationships. It's pretty similar, I think, to what Friedman (and others) describes within family systems theory in Generation to Generation. It so easy to get so caught up in feedback loops, in systems, that we don't even realize it--or the power they exert over us.

But perhaps Friedman's advice is good in any of these situations--that the only way we can change them is to be a non-anxious presence:

What Bowen has hypothesized is a scale of differentiation. Differentiation means the capacity of a family member to define his or her own life's goals and values apart from surrounding togetherness pressures, to say "I" when others are demanding "you" and "we." It includes the capacity to maintain a (relatively) non-anxious presence in the midst of anxious systems, to take maximum responsibility for one's own desitny and emotional being. It can be measured somewhat by the breadth of one's repertoire of responses when confronted with crisis. The concept should not be confused with autonomy or narcissism, however. Differentiation means the capacity to be an "I" while remaining connected. (Generation to Generation, p. 27)

It is this ability to be a non-anxious presence which, Freidman goes on to explain, is one's only real hope of changing a system (as opposed to trying to change someone IN the system).

So that's what was on my mind this morning. But while I've got my copy of Generation to Generation out, let me throw out some other great lines (though perhaps this only makes sense to those who've read the whole book or other family systems stuff, we'll see...)

• "It is not possible to eliminate any chronic condition without going through a phase that is acute" (p. 47)
• "One of the most astounding facts about organized religious life in America is the extent to which professional clergy organizations and heirarchies permit religious institutions to get away with blmaing all crashes on 'pilot error.'" (p. 218)
• "The possibilities of change are maximized rather when we concentrate on modifying our own way of functioning, our own input, into the family 'black box'." (p. 18)
• "If one is the third party in an emotional triangle, it is generally not possible to bring change (for more than a week) to the relationship of the other two parts by trying to change their relationship directly." (p. 37)
• "Chronic symptoms rarely go below or above certain thresholds and they tend to reappear with a certain rhythm. (Anyone who doubts this should try to make a problem worse and keep it at that level.)" (p. 46)
• "In fact, a good rule of thumb is that if you catch yourself disagnozing someone else [in a system you're part of], there is probably something in you that you are trying to hide." (p. 57)

SO there's a lot of good stuff in there...I'll have to stop there for now. Perhaps I'll come back to it later, though.

As the Game Clock Ticks...

Today I am working on Sunday's sermon--the first in our August sermon series. Should be lots of fun. I remembered this morning a sermon I wrote for a preaching class in seminary at Duke where I used Cameron Crazies (what Duke fans are called at home games) as an illustration. Even at Duke, I remembered I was criticized for taking the example/metaphor too far. Whatever. I remember having been quite pleased with myself. So, for your perusal, in case you're bored today, here it is. Just keep in mind it was early in my preaching career, and I was perhaps a bit drunk on Duke basketball fevor...:-) Oh, and I think Duke won that game, if my memory serves me. :-)

•SERMON TITLE: As the Game Clock Ticks...
Mark 4:26-29 (Classroom preaching, “Proclaiming the Parables”)
February 9, 2005
The Parable of Steady and Assured Coming of the Day of Harvest
Sarah Marie Andrews

26 He also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, 27 and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28 The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”

I am mindful, as I stand before you this afternoon, that a momentous event has our minds preoccupied.  This event has made some of our number absent in body, and others of us are battling not to be absent in mind and soul.  The forces of darkness will descend upon our peaceful campus this evening.  Yes, tonight, even tonight, shall be the visitation of the Tar Heels.

In the face of this dreaded invasion, I am reminded of a story told at my alma mater, Gettysburg College.  On July 1, 1863, Confederate troops fell upon union cavalry troops positioned on the northern end of the town of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  A three day battle would ensue.  But on that opening day, while the first shots of the Battle of Gettysburg were being fired, classes continued to be held in what was then known as Pennsylvania College.  Classes had begun as usual at 8 a.m. on that summer day, but soon it was evident that the day would be unlike any other.  One of the college’s professors stopped his lecture, finally telling his students, “We will close now and see what is going on, for you know nothing about the lesson anyhow.”

Today, like that summer day almost one hundred and fifty years ago, we are anxious.  We hear the sounds of something.  Something coming.  Something significant.  Something worth waiting for.  We have filled the seconds, minutes and hours today in expectation of plays, cheers and victories.  Today, more than any other day, our discussions have centered around how well JJ has been shooting from outside the arc, and how well Sheldon has been rebounding recently.  Tip-off is coming.  But life goes on as usual in many ways.  In the past days, students have gone to class, eaten at the Great Hall, and slept—despite the anticipation.  Life has gone on.  But today, today the time has come.  The students in K-ville have stepped out of their tents, and other students have joined them in line.  The news crews have set up their satellite trucks and expectant reporters stand poised to interview cheering or sobbing fans.  The cars will start filling the parking lots before this class has ended.  And so in the fullness of time we can almost feel the bleachers at Cameron heaving from the frenzied jumping up and down of the Cameron Crazies.

We meet Jesus this afternoon in our state of impatient, restless anticipation.  Jesus’ followers were impatient.  They wanted to know when the new kingdom, the Kingdom of God would come.  Today, Lord, today!  What can we do to make bonfire come sooner?!  How can we get the game over with quickly—and still win?
Jesus is not the guy to invite to your game-viewing party.  He does not share your restlessness.  No.  Just now, the ball has been tipped into the hands of J.J. Reddick.  But Jesus is not watching on the edge of his seat like everyone else.  Jesus takes breath.  Pauses a bit.  And while the clock ticks away and the announcers banter on, Jesus starts to tell a story.

“Imagine someone scattering seed on the ground.  Then he sleeps and rises night and day.  Meanwhile, the seed sprouts and grows.  Now this man, he does not know how it grows.  The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head.  But when the grain is ripe, at once the man goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”

What is he talking about?  The game is on!  Seeds?  What?  When was the last time most people here planted a seed...let alone a field of grain?  Yeah, yeah, stuff grows.  And somehow it gets from the field to the sub roll that I’m eating right now.  Great.  Now stop blocking the television!

We are told constantly that people in the United States these days have a short attention span.  They say we are not used to waiting and we don’t do it well.  But I think that’s not the whole story.  Because we do wait...sometimes.  If something is important enough, even in this 30-second commercial, video game, MTV society...if something is important enough, we will wait.  And we can even learn to appreciate the waiting.  Here at Duke, waiting has become a sport all to itself—what is K-ville if not a monument to the ability even of undergraduate to wait?  Wait until the time is right.  The day has come.  The anticipated tip-off happens, the game is played, and we taste victory.  You haven’t seen waiting until you’ve witnessed twelve undergraduates huddled in an ice-covered tent, eating cold pizza and doing their homework on laptop computers.

In the gospel of Mark, the very first recorded words of Jesus are these: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” (Mk 1:15) But even in the days, months and years which succeeded, Jesus’ followers grew anxious.  Jesus had proclaimed the coming of the kingdom, yet the social and political climate of their lives seemed unchanged.  The earliest Christians were challenged to mold their anxious, expectant faith into a no-less-expectant but still patient faith.  How do we remain faithful, confident in the coming kingdom, while the clock is still ticking, and the seeds of the kingdom haven’t all even broke through the topsoil?  Throughout the New Testament, including Revelation, we hear of the followers of Jesus who are praised for their patient endurance.  In James, we are commanded, “Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains.  You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.” (Jas. 5:7-8) So too does our parable this afternoon challenge us to have the expectant patience of a crowd at Cameron as the game clock ticks away.  There is a patience, a willingness to let the game play out, that is evident even when the Crazies shake the stadium.  Their willingness to watch, to stay standing, to not wander back to their rooms and catch the highlights on Sports Center later, all evidence a patient endurance despite their apparent frenzy.

I have been in Cameron on nights when the game goes long.  Almost without fail, the crowd starts chanting, “It’s a school night.”  They are ready for the game to be over.  But there are two halves.  Twenty minutes each.  And the game isn’t over until the whole of those forty minutes have passed.  The game itself can take forty minutes or three hours.  There can be fouls that stop the game after each play, or the players can keep a fast pace and have the final buzzer sound before anyone expected.

So when we hear in Jesus’ words this morning about the farmer who went about life as usual until the time for harvest had arrived, we may not understand what overseeing a field of crops would be like.  But we do understand what it is to wait.  To wait until the appointed time has arrived.  Till the completion of the task.  The Bible talks about the fullness of time. (Eph. 1:10; Gal. 4:4) It is the time when the waiting is over.  The anticipated moment has arrived.  The buzzer sounds.

Now, unlike tonight’s game, there is no need to speculate about the outcome of God’s kingdom.  Here we are, mere hours from the game, and none of us know what the outcome will be.  We can guess.  And hope.  And some, I am sure, have prayed.  But we don’t know.  We do know, however, that God’s kingdom will come.  Paul writes in Philippians 1:6, “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.”  God’s kingdom will be completed in your heart and in this world.  God’s kingdom will become complete in the fullness of time.  A seed is planted and the farmer goes about his daily routine with little concern about why the seed grows.  But he knows it will grow.  And when the time for harvest arrives, he is ready, and goes into the field to harvest the grain.  This parable isn’t flashy.  It doesn’t have a hundred different elements to explore.  It’s much shorter than many other of Jesus’ parables.  But I think that simplicity and directness is part of the message Jesus wanted to pass on.

God’s kingdom will come.  It’s not complicated.  It will come.  In fullness.  When the time is right.  Don’t bother about spending each waking moment with the Farmer’s Almanac trying to figure out which day will mark the harvest.  Jesus said, “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” (Matt. 24:42) This is not a challenge.  Jesus is not daring us to figure it out.  We don’t know.  We won’t know.  How many people, how many groups, have proclaimed that they have discovered the exact moment when this fullness of time would arrive!  How many have become obsessed with understanding how the kingdom is coming, and what the “signs of the times” are!  And they have never yet been right.

But our parable this morning, this short, simple story about the most basic patterns of life for agricultural peoples, challenges our self-confident efforts to be precise.  To have all the answers.  To know who, what, when, where and why.  In the face of our impatience and anxiousness, Jesus tells us it will come.  The kingdom is coming, and one day will be completed.  We do not say, in the Lord’s Prayer, “We hope your kingdom comes.”  No, we make a statement, “Thy kingdom come.”      In our impatience we wonder.  We get caught up in the cheering, the shouts, the music, the dancing, the insults.  All of it.  We may wonder if it will ever end.  And we may even doubt God’s victory.  At times we seem to be far behind.  The forces of this world are hitting every shot, and we can’t seem to rebound.  But this isn’t just any game we are caught up in.  Unlike tonight’s game in Cameron, God’s final victory is assured.  God’s people—God’s purposes—may appear to be utterly defeated; and yet our hope, our faith, our conviction is that these defeated, conquered people will be revealed, in the end—in the fullness of time—at the final buzzer—to have won.  Not by our own strength.  No, we could never grow to full stature on our own.  But by the grace of the creator, through the blood of his son—the Lamb standing as slain—and in the guidance of the Holy Spirit, at the final buzzer, the crowds will cheer unceasingly.  Like a seed growing steadily, with patient endurance, God’s kingdom is now growing towards its final completion.  The hour of harvest grows closer each moment. 

The kingdom of God is coming.  Without our efforts.  Without our understanding.  Without our self-assured contributions.  The grace of the kingdom’s coming, however, is that we are invited to become the sixth man.  To stand in exuberant expectation.  To chip in our best cheers.  To offer up our prayers, our presence, our gifts and our service.  Get your face painted.  Toss on your team t-shirt.  Warm up your vocal chords.  The game is underway.  The clock is ticking.  The victor is assured.

Now, “the one who testifies to these things [our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ] says, ‘Surely I am coming soon.’  Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus!  The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints.” (Rev. 22:20-21)

July 21: Luke 4 & 5

Eeek. Behind. Already. Here goes my attempt to get somewhat caught up…

Luke 4

First off, I’ve finally made a decision today. Never again will I attempt to read and blog on entire chapters at a time. This is ridiculous. There are at least eight blog posts from just this one chapter! But that’s for another day…

Let me just key in on one part of Luke 4—the whole thing about casting out demons. Now, there’s a lot going on here, and it raises a lot of questions. Like what is the nature of evil and its presence in the world? In what ways to we understand evil to be personified? How does the Church understand mental illness? And finally, how to we understand the presence of evil AND the very real conditions of mental illness in relationship to one another?

I must admit I struggle with some of the most blatant attempts to personify evil. I believe evil is real and present in the world, but I’m cautious about to easily attributing evil and sin to some being outside of ourselves. I don’t think we ought to be scapegoating our own failings. That being said, there are certainly those for whom their actions seem to be beyond the realm of even what we might rightly understand as human sinfulness. These are the people whose actions seem not “merely” sinful or wrong, but downright EVIL. I think this is what the people of Jesus’ day struggled with as they interacted with people. How do you approach someone whose reaction to others and to life seems so out of sorts? I think for many years, these people are quickly diagnosed as being possessed by a demon.

To be honest, I’m not sure I want to totally tackle the whole demon thing. It all makes me a bit uncomfortable. The Bible talks about demons, but I struggle to place those mentions within the context of the knowledge of the day. There are other parts of scripture (like Joshua 10:13 which tells us the sun stood still) which many, including me, see as communicating a point rather than a scientific explanation of natural phenomena. We know today (though I’m sure some would still disagree) that the sun, not the earth, is the center of our universe. What Joshua was communicating was that the day seemed to last forever.

So I don’t know if the same principle applies to the whole demon thing. Was this is some way at least an attempt to explain what we call mental illness today, in a time when there were not psychological explanations? And will we some day find that even our understanding of mental illnesses today is woefully inadequate? I don’t know. But I do believe that at least to some extent, at least SOME of what was attributed to demons in Jesus’ day almost certainly would be called mental illness today.

Even after years of open discussion about mental illnesses, we still struggle today to see them as medical conditions, like heart disease or diabetes. Like those two illnesses in particular, many mental illnesses will never completely go away for people, they can be (for most) well treated. So much so that they never, or even rarely ever affect a person’s life (other than the treatment needed to maintain mental and emotional health). At the same time, like those diseases, some people cannot be well treated using traditional methods, and others may find that lifestyle changes may have as much if not more impact on health than medications. Each person is different, and their illness and effective treatments will nearly always be different and include a combination of approaches.

In the church, we have too often failed to adequately address mental illnesses in relation to the many factors which impact people and how mental illnesses manifest. And how we handle the wake of those illnesses.

I could write volumes, and I realize I’m leaving this topic far from addressed, but for now, I’ll pause (and try to come back to that in a future blog).

Luke 5

Once again, there’s a lot going on. But I’ll focus in on the calling of the disciples.

Much is rightly made of the inappropriateness of Jesus’ disciples being who they, well, were. Not the scholarly men other teachers of the day would have had (let alone the whole process of the disciples following was fairly backwards).

Today I imagine this would be as if Jesus, rather than calling clergy to be his closest followers and future leaders, instead called men (and today, I believe, he would also call women) from auto body shops, beauty parlors, maybe a bank, a farm, a construction site, etc. This would be, I imagine, very hard for us pastors to swallow, but it’s Jesus’ MO (modus operandi).

The truth is, even today without Jesus calling disciples in such a direct way, Jesus still calls for people to come and follow, and still today, some of the most powerful ministry is done by those who are not professional clergy. Indeed, one of the best indicators of health and growth in a congregation is the active involvement AND LEADERSHIP of the laity. A sure way to start a church on decline is to expect the pastors (or even the paid staff as well) to handle the bulk of the congregation’s work. I know it’s easier that way, it seems. And we pastors LOVE to feel needed. But the degree to which a congregation is lay-led, I am convinced, is key.

Now lay LEADERSHIP and lay CONTROL are very different things. In fact, sometimes, laity exert control in order to control the pastor. For example, check out this story out of England. I don’t mean CONTROL but LEADERSHIP—in the healthiest way possible. So perhaps it is more accurate to say, the strong and healthier the lay leadership of a congregation, the stronger, more expending we would expect that congregation to be.

In the coming year at Calvary, we’re going to be working to grow our training for our lay leadership. While this has great promise for us, it will mean asking even more of our leaders (and those we hope to bring into leadership). But it will, I am sure, bear great fruit! Keep an eye open for more info!

A Month of Luke: Luke 3

I just finished reading today’s chapter. Which, if you’ve read it, means you understand how my head is swimming in NAMES! And all after yesterday’s reflection on my daughter’s name. Boy, there are a lot of names in there that I suspect few kids born this year in the US will be getting!

Seems like this has become a pattern for me, but yet again today, two main things seem to be catching me from this chapter.

First, is the sense that there is a right time. Even when we’re dealing with God coming to us in Jesus, we are given this picture of preparation, anchor in scripture, etc. Surely if any being could do anything at any time, it would be God. But God chose to work in a certain way, deliberatively. We use the word KAIROS to talk about God’s time. I won’t spend a ton of time defining kairos here, if you want to learn more, check out kairos on Wikipedia.

For me, I think it’s pretty clear when you’re right in the midst of God’s kairos. I think Jesus’ coming must have been a pretty incredible instance—the most incredible. But we find kairos all over the place even today.

One of the big projects I’ve been working on almost since arriving at Calvary is starting a new, contemporary (though we’ve had lots of discussions about if that’s even the appropriate word to use) worship service. It was one of the first areas that Ken asked me to work on, and we’ve had lots of ups and downs. In spring 2010, we started Koinonia (we like Greek words). The continuation of conversations that had been happening for a while at Calvary, we took what had been done so far and tried to mold it into a service…including lots of new input from some, like myself, newer to the conversations.

Our experience with Koinonia could fill a whole month of blogs itself. I’m happy to share our experience if you’re interested, but I’ll save the space here. Suffice it to say, we learned a lot. I, for sure, learned a lot. And earlier this year, we decided to “pause it.” I think we knew it would never come back as it was, but we wanted to make it clear we had not given up on a new service. We just needed to be able to come back at it without that baggage of trying to keep adjusting what we already had.

This past Sunday, then, we had our first service of “The Sanctuary.” And boy, can I feel God’s kairos on our side. For me, I sense I’m in God’s kairos with a big task seems to go smoothly. I can sense a major difference between the start of Koinonia and that start of The Sanctuary. Some of it, no doubt is experience, but even that is part of kairos.

The Sanctuary meets Sundays (right now just the 2nd and 4th Sundays of the month) in our chancel. Though, with 19 people at our first service (and a few of those were babies) it won’t be long before we’ll be overflowing the chancel seats and needing to push out into other areas of the sanctuary. We start with music (we need musicians, so let me know if you’re interested on a regular or occasional basis), then have fellowship (right there in the sanctuary) and then our message. For the summer we’re looking at secular songs and relating them to life lessons and to scripture. Starting in the fall, we’ll be inviting different people to come be interviewed then I’ll tie things together in a brief message. We’re going to call it “Conversations in the Sanctuary.” It’s hard to describe kairos, sometimes. But you know it when you’re in the midst of it.

The second thing that jumps out at me from Luke 3 is the story of John. During my college junior year, I spent my fall semester studying at College Year in Athens—in Athens, Greece. It was one of the most incredible experience of my life. I STRONGLY recommend that every college student take advantage of study abroad experiences if they can—especially to a place they may never get to visit otherwise.

While in Greece, I got to take several trips, both with our program and on my own. One of the trips I took on my own was along with a tour group to Meteora. Meteora is a really interesting place geologically.

Over many years, monasteries have been built here, so our trip was to visit them, including the largest, The Great Meteoron. In the narthex of that monastery are the images of martyrs of the faith. This is, I was told, to serve as an encouragement to Christians facing persecution. One of those images was of John the Baptist. I guess the image itself isn’t that novel—of him holding his own head on a platter (not headless horseman style, he HAD his head AND his head on a platter). Aside from it seeming a bit Halloween-ish, the image was one of my favorites I saw in Greece. I got a copy of it for my dad. Sure, it seems kind of ridiculous, but it brings to mind the entire story of John the Baptist, a story that is continued here (remember, we heard about John’s parents earlier in Luke).

The gospels seem to indicate that some thought John might be the Messiah. And that he clearly refuted that. John seems to have lived an odd life, owing at least in part to the vows made on his behalf earlier in Luke. John doesn’t seem to have had a “normal” life at all. And all for the sole purpose of preparing people for Jesus’ arrival on the scene.

It seems a bit thankless, doesn’t it? In many ways, a less than glamorous, and indeed quite a way to just sacrifice all the bits of life that are so important to many of us—family, romantic love, a respectable place in society. John had none of that…not so that he could BE the Messiah, but just to PREPARE people FOR the Messiah.

In a lot of ways, though, that’s what we’re called to do. To prepare people for God’s presence in their lives (“prepare” being a bit theologically inappropriate to say, but you get my gist). To help people see God. To help people recognize God with God is at work. To truly do this work, we may have to think long and hard about whether we’re holding on to things, to parts of our lives, out of our own will, rather than God’s.

All of this brings to mind what we call the Covenant Prayer in the Wesleyan Tradition. It may be at best CLOSE to a prayer that Wesley used, but it does indeed capture his approach to discipleship, and, I think, discipleship as it is presented in the Gospel of Luke for sure.

I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,
Exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things
To thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
Let it be ratified in heaven.
Amen.

A Month of Luke: Luke 2

The reading today from Luke 2 is yet again another really packed one. And not to skip along past the Christmas story—but well, let’s skip along. Why? I could surely write loads on the theological meaning of Christ’s birth. Of the historical importance of details Luke includes, etc. But for me, upon this reading, I find me mind captured by two other parts of Luke 2 that bring to mind my nearly eight-month old daughter.

My husband and I always hoped to have children. We were married August 30, 2008, which was MAYBE a year and a half after we’d first met. We wanted to wait a little bit before having children, but even early on we started talking about children. It was a bit surprising to me to find that apparently guys don’t pick out their children’s names as little boys. I mean, most GIRLS I know have at least thought about it. I had certainly done that. And I had always wanted to name a daughter Rebekah. I found myself, however, now married to a man whose sister’s name was Rebecca—and a husband who much preferred his sister’s spelling than the one I’d had in mind. So it was just as well that we looked elsewhere. It all happened on a car ride to VA to sister my husband’s sister. Driving along back roads (we’d gotten, well, a bit off track) we discussed naming guidelines (Bible name, family name), family naming traditions, ease of names going well with our last name (no easy feat) and settled upon one name for a boy and one name for a girl (we’ll have to go back to the drawing board if our next child is a girl!). There it was, then, several months before we ever got pregnant, that we had our daughter’s name picked out.

We had chosen Anna Marie. Marie is a generations-old family name on my side, and also relates to my mother—in-law’s name (Mary). Most of all, it was my given middle name, which I dropped when I got married and took my maiden name (as former parishioner Helen Seek said, “For professional reasons”). Anna is the name of my husband’s maternal grandmother, as well as a name on my side (my maternal grandmother’s name is Anne Marie).

Anna, is also, of course, the name of a woman we meet in our passage today. We are told ABOUT Anna, even though we are not told her actual words. It seems to me that Anna is portrayed as someone who was able to see what God was doing. And I can’t think of a better legacy for my own daughter than that. How much indeed does the world need help seeing God at work!

The second part that catches my eye now as a mother is the last section, about Jesus at the temple. I love Mary’s line, when they find Jesus, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." She is a much calmer person than I would be. But then, she IS a saint, right?  I like Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of that line a lot too: "Young man, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been half out of our minds looking for you."

As I read that, and as I wonder what Anna’s life hold, I can’t help but wonder if (and I hope it’s not so much IF but WHEN) she’ll find that obeying her parents or following our advice is at odds with God’s will in her life. I’d like to think she would never have to make such a choice, but I think we all, or most of us at least, eventually find ourselves at that point where we realize that our parents are not perfect. And even if they are trying their very best, they have, as sinful creatures themselves, let even their advice to and care for us be tainted by their own will.

My only hope for when that happens (and I hope at least that it doesn’t happen too often) that Anna will indeed be able to follow God’s leading even when it is hard for us. Now, I hope God will help us out a bit and not let this all happen till, say, she’s out of her preteen years at least. But then, Mary and Joseph were special, so perhaps that why they got it so early in their son’s life.

The good news is that after this whole experience, Jesus seems to have followed them home where he lived out his childhood as a dutiful son. In the end then, they probably got off pretty easy. But this was as much, I suspect a pivotal experience for Mary and Joseph as it was for Jesus. Their son, they were reminded, was not their own. But God’s. Was, in fact, God. The rest of us may not (and in fact, do not) find ourselves as parents of God’s only child. But we do find ourselves as parents of children who are gifted to us by God. Who do not, in fact, BELONG to us. This is something I understand to be powerfully demonstrated when a child is baptized. I believe one of the things that is happening is that the parents are testifying to their own realization that they are caretakers, not possessors, of their child.

This is, then, then same message we see when Mary and Jesus take their son to the temple earlier in the gospel. As it reads, “22 When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), 24 and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons."

And, I think we also see it in the very story of Jesus’ birth. This reality that this child, not unlike all children, is to some extent more than just the possession of a family. I mean, I cannot imagine random shepherds showing up days or even hours after my child’s birth. Mary would likely have been still very much in recovery herself. Trying to get the whole breastfeeding thing worked out. Tired. Not to mention she and Joseph were in a strange place, and there is no indication they were surrounded by family to help.

It is there we meet this child. Who is so much more than just the child of a man and a woman. So much more meaning and purpose in the world. My daughter Anna is not God’s begotten child. But she is nonetheless so much more than merely a possession of Chris and me. With far more meaning and purpose in the world than to do our will. May she indeed help people see God at work and do God’s will in all things.

A Month of Luke: Luke 1

Last week I met with one of our recent high school graduates at Calvary, whose family's transition from their former congregation to Calvary happen right around the time of confirmation. Since she is now a good bit older than our usual confirmation kids, we'd decided to do something that combines our confirmation program and our new member class for adults. One of the things I've taken from our confirmation program us reading the gospel of Luke together (Calvary uses Willimon's Making Disciples confirmation program). I'm notoriously bad at being faithful for reading programs (yeah, I was THAT person in Disciple who read at the last minute or just skimmed...and yes, I was the teacher...) so I thought I'd try to do this by reading one chapter a day and posting some thoughts to my blog. Hopefully hte knowledge that perhaps SOMEONE will notice when I don't post will in fact keep me faithful to posting (and reading) that one chapter a day. Luke has 24 chapters, and we've got about that much time before she joins Calvary, so hopefully it works out. But maybe I'll try a couple chapters some days.

I invite you, if you don't have a Bible reading plan, to join me. Feel free to post and leave your own comments on the chapter. Or, if Luke isn't your thing, maybe take the challenge yourself (one chapter a day) using another book of the Bible that interests you. Some good summer reading!

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LUKE 1

Luke 1 is surely a packed chapter. I love that it has the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth—this is a great but often overlooked part of the story of Jesus’ birth. This morning as I read it, I was struck by that story alongside Mary’s story. Specifically, here you have two women who conceive, but with very different implications.

We are told that Elizabeth has been barren, and this has been a source of shame for her among the people. We’ve seen this before in scripture, so we know that the lack of a child was indeed a source of shame in their time. Lacking birth control as we have today, there could be little question about WHY a woman hadn’t borne a child. Today, one could just as soon assume a couple had chosen not to have children (or have them yet) for a whole host of reasons (professional reasons, health reasons, financial reasons, etc.) but at that time, it seems it would have almost universally been related to some biological issue, which was, as was common of many things at that time, to be attributed to God’s will, often by way of punishment.

So for Elizabeth, this is indeed joyous news. Absent are any of the concerns of a late-in-life pregnancy you might have today, and right in the forefront is her joyousness at this evidence that there is nothing wrong with her. Gone is her shame.

Meanwhile, you have Mary. For her, the news of her pregnancy is not the same joyous occasion. She is, as will be laid out even more as Luke continues, in a precarious situation. Engaged to Joseph, she has to contend with a fiancé, her family, and her community as she has gotten pregnant out of wedlock. I imagine how each woman reacted when they discovered they were pregnant. If they lived today, I imagine Elizabeth would have posted on Facebook. Everyday. May have posted ultrasound pics. News of her latest baby shopping trip. There would be a baby shower. Or two. Or three. It would have been great fun.

But what about for Mary? I can’t help but think of the episodes I’ve seen of 16 and Pregnant on MTV. I imagine Mary may have shared some things in common with some of those girls. Like the one who hid her pregnancy, not even sharing it with her closest friends, until she was 6 or so months pregnant. I wonder if Mary hid it at all. Or did she push on, proud that she was carrying God’s child. But how do you explain that to people? What a difficult thing it is to be doing God’s will when you just cannot explain it to others in ways they will understand. When God’s will puts you outside of what the community expects.

For me, this chapter is not only a great start to the story of Jesus, but also a call to all of us to celebrate each life. Each child of God is loved. And the truth is, it can be easier to judge a situation than to see God at work. New life is a wonderful thing. And those who bring a child into a difficult situation have enough to contend with without adding the condescension of others. Who are we to declare God’s will? Who are we to try to decide who is favored? Is that not God’s work? And are not all children—at their birth and throughout their lives—deeply loved by God? I believe they are.