I turned forty this past summer. I’m trying not to think about it. It’s weird. I don’t feel that old and most of my friends will tell me that we’re still young, still in our prime. “Forty is the new thirty,” they say, “maybe even the new twenty-eight.” But let’s be honest--the perspective has shifted. Forty is forty. It ain’t young. My body is starting to tell me I’m getting older and the guy in the mirror certainly doesn’t look as young as he used to. The odds of my family line tell me I am closer to death than I am to my birth, and that is a stark realization no matter how juvenile my friends and I may still act.
But I can embrace a new phase. With age comes wisdom, or so they say. I remember my cousin Tom telling me once when we were kids that his dad claimed that a man wasn’t a man until he was forty. There seems to be some truth to that. Although, it occurs to me now that Uncle Ted was probably right around forty at that time--now he would probably say that a man isn’t a man until he’s 65! It’s all about perspective, I suppose.
But there is a certain perspective that comes with mid-life, and perhaps it is worth putting into words. I’m not an out-of-touch old foggie yet, but nor am I impressed by the latest shiny toy or idea. And my generation, especially my micro-generation, the so-called xennials born between 1977 and 1983, have a unique view of this changing world we all share together. We live in the present, can make use of the latest advancements in technology, and dream of the the future where these will take us. But we also have roots in a time before the connectivity of the iphone and social media, before all information and news (and anxiety) was instantaneously available to everyone with internet access, before community could mean much other than the people around you. We were formed in a far different world than the one we are living in (or I should say, creating) now.
My friend, Nathan, says that once you hit forty you start speaking your mind. Perhaps that is a good thing. Not in the way of the angry old grouch, but in the way of the wise teacher, willing to speak up in humility to share a perspective, to ask good questions, and to really listen to other perspectives. (And it is this last one that takes the most practice and, maybe, the most courage).
I’ve certainly got a lot of questions right now. Questions about all aspects of life: How do we share this planet together without destroying it? How do we raise children to be aware of problems in the world without scaring them? How do we care for one another? How do we truly get to know those who are different from us? What is the good life? Is capitalism working? Why don’t we have hover cars yet or better trains? Why is the gap between rich and poor growing so quickly and why aren’t more people concerned about it? Why is our politics so divided? Why do we let youth sports run (or ruin) our lives? How do we raise young men with a healthy sense of masculinity? What is a healthy sense of masculinity? Why is church so irrelevant? Why is racism so prevalent? Why is it so hard to provide affordable health care while doctors, medical administrators, and insurance companies make so much money? Why do we treat “the market” and it’s so-called invisible forces as natural law of God? How do we get rid of all this plastic? What will happen to medicare and social security? How the hell did Donald Trump become president? How do we cut through media spin? What is truth? When did the national anthem become solely about respect and honor for the military? Seriously! All. This. Plastic…
I don’t claim to have a lot of good answers to these questions (and I’m not sure that “answers” would actually be helpful for most of them), but I do think we need to figure out a way to actually talk about some of these big issues in a constructive way. So maybe forty will bring the courage to question, to listen, and to offer up a perspective more often--to effectively speak my mind in an effort toward the greater good. I'm hoping to at least give it the old midlife try! Something tells me we need to do this now more than ever.
Wednesday, September 12, 2018
Monday, April 23, 2018
a few Richard Rohr inspired thoughts on trinity, baptism, church, and the very nature of life...
"Go, therefore, and make disciples, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."
What does it mean to baptize in the name of? What was baptism when Jesus uttered these words? A washing of renewal, I suppose. What was the history and understanding of this act that cousin John made popular out in the wilderness, and which Jesus himself went through?
It seemed to be a ritual cleaning. Perhaps the ultimate version of such a ritual. To be doused into the water and brought back up was to physically experience the full renewal of turning to the new way demanded by John's "baptism of repentance."
But then Jesus leaves his disciples with this command to go and baptize. Richard Rohr's recent work on the trinity, The Divine Dance, points out the deep metaphysical truths of a trinitarian understanding of the world. Seeing God as trinity, means seeing life as relationship in a profound way. And I wonder what these words of Jesus mean then, if heard with those ears...
"Go, therefore, and make followers of this way by washing their lives in the deep nature of relationship and interconnectivity." Immerse them in it. "Baptize these new followers," doesn't mean to simply mark them. That's what the ritual does, but the ritual points beyond itself. Just as John's baptism was the beginning of an ongoing path, so too baptism is an ongoing affair. To baptize in the name of the trinity is to set in motion an unending deep dive into the meaning of life as created by, nurtured by, sustained by, and also reflecting ultimate being as relationality and love...
What would it look like if we baptized as such? What would it mean to the church to understand the charge to make disciples in this way? It seems to make it easier--it seems to be a blueprint for how to do it. How do you make disciples? You continually wash them in the deep nature of reality as interconnected and relational. Does it involve teaching and knowledge? Yes, but it's not a matter of cognitively knowing the right doctrines. Does it involve practice? Of course, but it isn't a matter of simply following the right rules.
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Ch-ch-ch Changes
[This post was delivered as a sermon on January 7, 2018 at St. John's Episcopal Church, Wausau, WI. Lectionary readings for the day were Genesis 1:1-5, Psalm 29, Acts 19:1-7, Mark 1:4-11]
Well, it’s the New Year—the time of resolutions, the time of change (sometimes big announcements are made…) There is a certain energy to the new year, to turning the page and looking ahead. We have celebrated the coming of the light at the beginning of the church year with Advent and Christmas and now as the calendar turns we look ahead to all the of the life and movement that 2018 will bring. We imagine, we envision, we dream about what will become of this year ahead.
Of course, we almost always greet the new year with freezing cold temperatures here in Wisconsin. And as you know, in the cold, things slow down. The very molecules that make up all mass move more slowly as they cool to a frozen state and we move more slowly too. We hunker down and stay indoors. When we do go out, we take things slowly and carefully, as we should. So we begin the year in tension.
The New Year is latent with possibility, but that possibility is not yet ready to be realized. It is a threshold, it is a time of transition.
We have many of these in our lives, don’t we?
Some are thrust upon us: We lose our job, we get divorced, we lose a loved one, or become limited by injury or age. Suddenly, life looks differently. Other transitions we choose: we change jobs, we move, we go off to school, or retire from our career.
But whether we choose to make change or whether it is put upon us, we will always face this in-between time, a time when things are no longer as they were before but not yet how they are going to be. So, what do we do in these liminal spaces, as they are called—the space between? What can we do?
In the New Year we make resolutions, right? We make up our minds to do things differently. Raise your hand if you’ve tried this before. Now keep your hand up if you’ve ever made a resolution that you failed to keep. Okay and let’s be really honest with each other-- keep your hand up if you’ve made a new year’s resolution and broken that resolution within the very first week of January.
Resolutions aren’t easy. We aren’t always ready for the change, even when it is a change we wish to make. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to try and sometimes we succeed. Sometimes we make a resolution and we find ourselves in the right mindset and with the right circumstances to succeed. You might say that we somehow manage to find the right spirit to enact the change we seek.
Maybe we’ve resolved to do something for years and years without success, but then finally, we get extra motivation and we somehow find ourselves ready to finally get over the hump and actually make the change that we seek. In some instances, it might even feel easy. We’ve somehow captured the spirit necessary for the change we had sought for so long.
Or think of other changes. Some who have changed their lives through recovery will talk about hitting rock bottom. It sounds like this experience is about things getting so bad that there just had to be a change. People might say it was basically, “get clean or die.” I don’t doubt that is the case, but what makes an addict realize this?
In other cases, I’ve been told that it was a combination of circumstances working in them to create a new vision of what life could be--a new vision of hope, and a yearning for more out of life. What causes this vision? What moves people from addiction to hope?
Some accounts of deep depression tell of facing a hopelessness so utterly overwhelming that it leads to a final, internal crack, a breaking of one’s illusions and to finally letting go—letting go of control, letting go of judgment, letting go of the feeling like you have to somehow keep it all together all of the time. It’s in the letting go—in the opening up—that a new spirit enters in.
Now if you’ve dealt with depression or addiction, then you will know that nothing that I can say up here will do justice to the profound journey that you have been through in your life. Please excuse my brief sketch of these subjects. But I can’t help but think that there is a lesson for us all in these dramatic life-changing and life-giving experiences of transition.
Somehow, through what is certainly pain and struggle, a new spirit is born. Where does it come from? How is it captured? It seems to have to do with realizing and admitting one’s brokenness, but it isn’t just that. It’s not just breaking, but a breaking open.
Although not obvious at first glance, I think our readings for today have something to say about this as well. Each reading represents a transition, a significant shift, and each reading involves a particular movement of the Spirit. From Genesis, we have God in the first act of creation.
“In the beginning… the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” The word for ‘wind’ here in Hebrew is the same word as breath or spirit, so the line could just as easily read that “a spirit (or The Spirit) of God swept over the face of the waters.” Before change, we have a movement of the Spirit, somehow preparing the way.
In the baptism of Jesus, we of course see the Spirit at work, coming down in the form of a dove, while a voice announces Jesus as the beloved son. Here again, the spirit is at work preparing the way, pointing toward this something new that was about to come into the world with the ministry of Jesus. And in some accounts the Spirit then leads Jesus directly out into the wilderness to be tempted, continuing this time of transition.
And then in our New Testament reading, we have this odd story in Acts 19 where Paul is engaging with some new disciples in Ephesus. Certainly, they are in a time of change along with other members of the nascent Jesus movement. Things aren’t how they were for these disciples—they’ve been changed—but nor are things like they are going to be—they haven’t yet been fully baptized. They haven’t even yet heard of the Holy Spirit. They are in one of these threshold moments. They are in the midst of transition. So Paul asks them, “into what, then, were you baptized?”
And they answered, into John’s baptism…
Remember John preached “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” The word repentance could be literally rendered as to turn around. It has to do with changing directions. But more than that it has more to do with a change of mind—like a paradigm shift.
So these disciples had heard the call to repentance. They knew that they wanted to turn around toward a new way of being, they wanted to have a new mind about them as part of this new movement. But it wasn’t just going to happen. They were a lot like us with our new year’s resolutions. They had an idea of change, but they weren’t quite there yet.
So Paul tells them, “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus." And with that simple line they are given a bigger vision of what life could be. It’s about this man Jesus, and the way he lived and the things he taught us. It isn’t just about turning around or away or about a paradigm shift it is also about what you are focused on. And in that vision of Jesus, a new spirit is born.
Our text goes on to tell us that “they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus.” And, “when Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them…”
With something—or someone—to focus on they were then open to and ready to receive the spirit.
Of course, it doesn’t always happen as simply and quickly as this makes it sound. What changes and transitions await you in the year ahead? We will have change here together at St. John’s obviously, but we will all face many other changes in our lives as well—some big, some small. No doubt, the old adage is true, “the only constant is change.”
Does this mean that we live in fear? Does this mean that we are never settled? I don’t think so, but perhaps it does mean that we hold life a little more loosely, that we recognize it as gift and are aware that we are always becoming, we are always in process, and that life is about continually opening up to the movements of the spirit in our lives, wherever and however they move us.
Remember Jesus said that the spirit moves where it pleases. Like the wind, you can hear its sound, you can see evidence of it, but you do not know from where it comes or to where it will go—where it will lead you. Can we be open to such a spirit? Can we even embrace the in-between times that come with change and transition? Can we heed the words of the book of Isaiah where God says, “Do not hold onto the old ways. For see, I am about to do something new?” Or if the voice of the prophets doesn’t do it for you, perhaps the stark words of the late David Bowie can achieve the same thing: can we “turn and face the strange?” It might be that when we feel most lost or broken that we are finally ready to be led into something new.
So, happy New Year! May the changes that lie ahead for you personally and for this congregation bear much fruit. May we be open to the movements of the spirit, wherever they may blow, and in that gain awareness of how precious our time is here together. Amen!
Well, it’s the New Year—the time of resolutions, the time of change (sometimes big announcements are made…) There is a certain energy to the new year, to turning the page and looking ahead. We have celebrated the coming of the light at the beginning of the church year with Advent and Christmas and now as the calendar turns we look ahead to all the of the life and movement that 2018 will bring. We imagine, we envision, we dream about what will become of this year ahead.
Of course, we almost always greet the new year with freezing cold temperatures here in Wisconsin. And as you know, in the cold, things slow down. The very molecules that make up all mass move more slowly as they cool to a frozen state and we move more slowly too. We hunker down and stay indoors. When we do go out, we take things slowly and carefully, as we should. So we begin the year in tension.
The New Year is latent with possibility, but that possibility is not yet ready to be realized. It is a threshold, it is a time of transition.
We have many of these in our lives, don’t we?
Some are thrust upon us: We lose our job, we get divorced, we lose a loved one, or become limited by injury or age. Suddenly, life looks differently. Other transitions we choose: we change jobs, we move, we go off to school, or retire from our career.
But whether we choose to make change or whether it is put upon us, we will always face this in-between time, a time when things are no longer as they were before but not yet how they are going to be. So, what do we do in these liminal spaces, as they are called—the space between? What can we do?
In the New Year we make resolutions, right? We make up our minds to do things differently. Raise your hand if you’ve tried this before. Now keep your hand up if you’ve ever made a resolution that you failed to keep. Okay and let’s be really honest with each other-- keep your hand up if you’ve made a new year’s resolution and broken that resolution within the very first week of January.
Resolutions aren’t easy. We aren’t always ready for the change, even when it is a change we wish to make. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to try and sometimes we succeed. Sometimes we make a resolution and we find ourselves in the right mindset and with the right circumstances to succeed. You might say that we somehow manage to find the right spirit to enact the change we seek.
Maybe we’ve resolved to do something for years and years without success, but then finally, we get extra motivation and we somehow find ourselves ready to finally get over the hump and actually make the change that we seek. In some instances, it might even feel easy. We’ve somehow captured the spirit necessary for the change we had sought for so long.
Or think of other changes. Some who have changed their lives through recovery will talk about hitting rock bottom. It sounds like this experience is about things getting so bad that there just had to be a change. People might say it was basically, “get clean or die.” I don’t doubt that is the case, but what makes an addict realize this?
In other cases, I’ve been told that it was a combination of circumstances working in them to create a new vision of what life could be--a new vision of hope, and a yearning for more out of life. What causes this vision? What moves people from addiction to hope?
Some accounts of deep depression tell of facing a hopelessness so utterly overwhelming that it leads to a final, internal crack, a breaking of one’s illusions and to finally letting go—letting go of control, letting go of judgment, letting go of the feeling like you have to somehow keep it all together all of the time. It’s in the letting go—in the opening up—that a new spirit enters in.
Now if you’ve dealt with depression or addiction, then you will know that nothing that I can say up here will do justice to the profound journey that you have been through in your life. Please excuse my brief sketch of these subjects. But I can’t help but think that there is a lesson for us all in these dramatic life-changing and life-giving experiences of transition.
Somehow, through what is certainly pain and struggle, a new spirit is born. Where does it come from? How is it captured? It seems to have to do with realizing and admitting one’s brokenness, but it isn’t just that. It’s not just breaking, but a breaking open.
Although not obvious at first glance, I think our readings for today have something to say about this as well. Each reading represents a transition, a significant shift, and each reading involves a particular movement of the Spirit. From Genesis, we have God in the first act of creation.
“In the beginning… the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” The word for ‘wind’ here in Hebrew is the same word as breath or spirit, so the line could just as easily read that “a spirit (or The Spirit) of God swept over the face of the waters.” Before change, we have a movement of the Spirit, somehow preparing the way.
In the baptism of Jesus, we of course see the Spirit at work, coming down in the form of a dove, while a voice announces Jesus as the beloved son. Here again, the spirit is at work preparing the way, pointing toward this something new that was about to come into the world with the ministry of Jesus. And in some accounts the Spirit then leads Jesus directly out into the wilderness to be tempted, continuing this time of transition.
And then in our New Testament reading, we have this odd story in Acts 19 where Paul is engaging with some new disciples in Ephesus. Certainly, they are in a time of change along with other members of the nascent Jesus movement. Things aren’t how they were for these disciples—they’ve been changed—but nor are things like they are going to be—they haven’t yet been fully baptized. They haven’t even yet heard of the Holy Spirit. They are in one of these threshold moments. They are in the midst of transition. So Paul asks them, “into what, then, were you baptized?”
And they answered, into John’s baptism…
Remember John preached “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” The word repentance could be literally rendered as to turn around. It has to do with changing directions. But more than that it has more to do with a change of mind—like a paradigm shift.
So these disciples had heard the call to repentance. They knew that they wanted to turn around toward a new way of being, they wanted to have a new mind about them as part of this new movement. But it wasn’t just going to happen. They were a lot like us with our new year’s resolutions. They had an idea of change, but they weren’t quite there yet.
So Paul tells them, “John baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, in Jesus." And with that simple line they are given a bigger vision of what life could be. It’s about this man Jesus, and the way he lived and the things he taught us. It isn’t just about turning around or away or about a paradigm shift it is also about what you are focused on. And in that vision of Jesus, a new spirit is born.
Our text goes on to tell us that “they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus.” And, “when Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them…”
With something—or someone—to focus on they were then open to and ready to receive the spirit.
Of course, it doesn’t always happen as simply and quickly as this makes it sound. What changes and transitions await you in the year ahead? We will have change here together at St. John’s obviously, but we will all face many other changes in our lives as well—some big, some small. No doubt, the old adage is true, “the only constant is change.”
Does this mean that we live in fear? Does this mean that we are never settled? I don’t think so, but perhaps it does mean that we hold life a little more loosely, that we recognize it as gift and are aware that we are always becoming, we are always in process, and that life is about continually opening up to the movements of the spirit in our lives, wherever and however they move us.
Remember Jesus said that the spirit moves where it pleases. Like the wind, you can hear its sound, you can see evidence of it, but you do not know from where it comes or to where it will go—where it will lead you. Can we be open to such a spirit? Can we even embrace the in-between times that come with change and transition? Can we heed the words of the book of Isaiah where God says, “Do not hold onto the old ways. For see, I am about to do something new?” Or if the voice of the prophets doesn’t do it for you, perhaps the stark words of the late David Bowie can achieve the same thing: can we “turn and face the strange?” It might be that when we feel most lost or broken that we are finally ready to be led into something new.
So, happy New Year! May the changes that lie ahead for you personally and for this congregation bear much fruit. May we be open to the movements of the spirit, wherever they may blow, and in that gain awareness of how precious our time is here together. Amen!
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