Traveler or Tourist?

We‘ve been to Greece a couple of times in the past 5 years. The first time was for our 25th anniversary. We chartered a sailboat and spent 2 weeks sailing from island to island in the Ionian sea. It’s a wonderful way to travel. You get to see small harbour villages that most tourists never see; eat in quaint tavernas, always by the water; shop in what they call supermarkets which are the size of a 7/11 – it’s all very relaxing. After this....

To read the rest of this short article I wrote for St. Benedict's Table click here

Wives and Sweethearts

In the movie Master and Commander, captain Jack Aubrey, played by Russell Crowe, is hosting a dinner in the great cabin of his ship. In the cabin are the ship’s officers and a few select guests, all male, ranging in age from about 14 to 70. As is the custom at these meals, after which they have consumed copious amount of food and wine, there is a series of toasts. 

Captain Jack stands up and says, "Gentlemen a toast."

The room goes quite.

"To wives and sweethearts..."

"Aye aye" the men murmur in agreement as they raise their cups.

Then, with a whimsical note in his voice he adds, "...may they never meet!"

To which all the men break out in raucous laughter.

When I was younger - much younger - before meeting my wife, I went out with a girl for about 2 years. Back then I'm afraid I was a bit of a jerk, and I didn't treat her very nice. It  wasn’t really intentional, I was just stupid. Over the years I have often felt bad about this, and thought that if I ever had the chance, I would apologize to her. Once or twice I even went so far as to make a half hearted attempt to find her, but without knowing her married name it seemed impossible.

Last year about this time I was putting the boat away for the winter. It takes a couple of days, and during my off time I was reading NT Wrights book, "The Lord and His Prayer". It was probably during the section on “thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” I realized that if I really believed all this stuff then I HAD to find her and apologize. But it wasn’t a sort of I-should-get-around-to-doing-that-some-day kind of feeling. I was driven. I haven’t felt that compelled to do something for longer than  I can remember.

Given that I have a tremendous grasp of the obvious, shortly after starting my quest it dawned on me that I was going to get myself into a lot of trouble if my wife found out. So I told her.  She was incredibly understanding and wonderfully supported me through the whole thing. 

It took about 3 weeks of obsessive searching before I found her, including contact with her brother-in-law, which I will elaborate on in a bit. We exchanged a couple of emails and even talked on the phone for a few minutes. She was very gracious and did extend forgiveness. 

Some might be wondering at this stage why I am telling this story. I mean, ultimately, it doesn't cast me in a very good light. But there are actually three reasons.

The first reason is that if you believe that being a Christian is about living out the kingdom of god, that we are all called to be imitators of Christ, that “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” is more than just a phrase you say during communion, then I tell this story to encourage you. This whole story could have gone sideways and ended very badly. I understand that, I was prepared for it, and I’m glad it didn’t. But even if it had gone sideways, it was still the right thing to do. Because ultimately I knew I had done all I could to bring reconciliation. 

The second reason is related to the first. At one point my quest lead me to her brother-in-law who, it turns out, is a minister.  I explained my situation to him, via email, as best I could without revealing too much, and appealed to his pastoral instincts to put me in touch with her. To a certain extent I understand his reasoning, but despite the fact that there were ways for me to get my message to her without knowing where she was, he refused. Using such platitudes as “leave it in gods hands” and “it probably means more to you than her” etc. So my second reason for the story is to let you know that even if you do try to do the right thing, there are those within the religious community that will oppose you. They may even be leaders in the church - people who should be leading by example. And you should be prepared for that.  

The third reason is to start a conversation. Not necessarily about my particular circumstance, but about what it means to be a Christian. I think that if we take this Christian thing seriously we need to start talking to each other, and exploring what that means. We need to talk about our successes and our failures because that’s how we really learn. I think that Christianity has gone so long, and strayed so far, from it’s original intent, that we don't know what it means anymore, and we need each other to rediscover and explore the forgotten arts of christianity - arts such as humility, forgiveness, compassion, acceptance and many others. 

Dandelions and Daffodils

Let it never be said that I can't change my mind! I have recently changed my mind on one of my most fundamental beliefs - something I've held since was in my teens. In fact I have written about it on this very blog.

Denominationalism.

There is a blog that I follow a bit, and sometimes post comments on. It has become more and more apparent that the author of the blog, and most of her commenters are charismatic. In fact I would say that a good chunk of the people on the blog also go to the same church.

The other day the topic was Spiritual Gifts. Now I have been mulling over this topic for awhile, and not really sure where I stand on this, but I posted a comment that took a different point of view than most of the others, and was basically summarily dismissed. Needless to say this just annoyed me. I can handled someone having a different opinion - thats fine - but to just dismiss it outright I felt was just rude. I wasn't impressed.

But then something happened.

A picture of a field of wild flowers popped into my head. At first I didn't know what to make of this. Had that burrito at lunch finally returned to that it's revenge? Were the mushrooms I bought off the guy on the street actually magic like he said? But then it slowly dawned on me; this is how God sees all the different versions of Christianity. Each one is beautiful in its own way. Each one has a certain type of attraction. Not all people are attracted to the same kind of flowers, so it takes differing kinds. Not only that, but it is actually the variety that is beautiful. A field that is all one type of flower is not as beautiful as one that is filled with all sorts of flowers. One might say yes, but there is beauty in a monolith. And while that is true, the monolith is only beautiful in contrast to its surroundings. Not only is the variety beautiful, but God wants this variety because each one celebrates a different aspect of his essence: the timelessness of the liturgy, the emotion of the charismatic. the fervency of the evangelical, etc.

I didn't necessarily think that everyone should believe like me, but I did think that there shouldn't be any distinctions. And this is where there is a very big BUT (you knew there had to be one). The field of wild flowers is only beautiful if they aren't fighting with one another, or thinking they should be the only ones in the field, and trying to take over - when that happens we call them weeds - and we pull them out and burn them. And the problem with this whole thing is that I'm not sure that humanity, particularly certain conservative protestant denominations, can actually stop thinking they should be the only ones in the field. I mean let's be honest, Catholics, Anglicans, Methodists, Lutherans etc don't have this problem.

It's the old joke about the guy who dies and goes to heaven. St Peter meets him at the pearly gates and as he leads him in he says to the guy "be quiet as we pass the next room". In the room are a bunch of people praising and worshipping. The guy asks St Peter "who are they?" St Peter says "oh, them. Those are the (insert whatever conservative protestant denomination you want in here) . They think they're the only ones here".

For my part though, I'm going to be ok with whatever denomination or tradition you belong to. I may not agree with everything you believe, but I will try to look for the common ground between us. After all, I can't control what other people think. I can only control what I think, and that's hard enough most times.

Seeing Through the Eyes of God

Several years ago a friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer – for the second time. He had previously been married, and in a cruel twist of timing, the day he started planning his second wedding, he also had to start planning his funeral.

Over the course of the next five years or so he steadily, and inevitably, declined. First getting thin from loss of appetite, and then getting thick, but only in spots, as the evil inside him started to show itself and take over his body.

I visited him regularly and did odd jobs for him around the house as his ability to do those things faded like an old memory, but sometimes we just sat and talked. Surprisingly, there was lots of laughter; he maintained his sense of humor to the end. Eventually he asked me if I would be co-executor with his second wife. I felt honored, so I accepted. All I would need to do is help her out with a few things he said.

Little did I know.

During that time I was part of the religious spectrum that believed one had to say the ‘prayer’ in order to get to heaven. So, one day, while we were visiting, I felt I needed to do my duty. I told him about God and how much He loved him - how it was never too late. Despite the sun streaming into the window there was a shadow of death in the room, and it made the whole conversation seem empty and pointless. So I hung my head and mumbled something about, as a friend, I felt I needed to tell him this, but I would never bring it up again - unless he wanted to. He politely thanked me, and told me that there were other people who had told him the same thing.

We never talked about it again.

Eventually he succumbed and, as promised, I helped his wife with the execution of the Will. Part of his estate was leaving a small sum of money for all his kids. His youngest daughter had challenges. Technically it wasn’t Autism, but you could easily be forgiven for calling it that. All the kids got their money, except the youngest, who we set up a trust fund for.

Over time everything was taken care of except the administration of the trust fund. And that’s when the fun started. His first wife wanted that money for herself - and wanted it bad - but we knew he didn’t want that.

When I was younger I would often go for a drive if I needed to work out a problem. Driving seems to put me into a meditative state where the possibilities are endless. One day while driving to work, I was thinking about his ex-wife and all the problems I was having. I must admit that some of those thoughts weren’t very Christian. I hated her: I hated her selfishness, I hated her greed, I hated all the grief she was causing me.

And then I felt bad.

After awhile the thought occurred to me; “I wonder how God views her?” And then another thought; “I should ask God to show me how he views her, maybe that would help”. So I asked God to show me how he sees her. I expected one of two responses; either nothing at all, or some kind of warm fuzzy glow in the middle of my chest, like a shot of Gin knocked back too quickly.

I wasn’t prepared for what actually happened.

My vision blurred. My nose plugged up. Within a minute I could barely see. I just about had to pull over to the side of the road I was crying so hard. The tears were burning rivers down my face, and the snot in my nose couldn’t get out fast enough. I was bawling like a schoolgirl rejected by her first boyfriend. These were tears of sadness and love, and they were inconsolable. They were the tears a parent sheds for a wayward child they love with every fiber of their being, and it destroys them to see the self-destructive path they have chosen.

It was terrifying.

In retrospect I don’t know if it was God or, as the Buddhist say, some moment of enlightenment, but it’s quite possible I will never make that request of God again. There was something very primal about it, yet very sacred. It was if I had stepped into an area where only God can dwell, and where only God should dwell. I felt like I was trespassing on a rich man’s property. I had touched the Holy and was found wanting.

I would like to say that everything worked out with his ex-wife, but it hasn’t. However, it did make me see that I cannot hate. But more than anything it made me see how much God, or whatever word you chose, loves us - all of us - not just those in our tribe: a love that’s meant to be lived through us.

Christianity as Poetry

Martin Buber is quoted as having said; "All of us have access to God, but each of us has different access. Our great chance lies in our unlikeness. God's all-inclusiveness manifests itself in the infinite multiplicity of the ways that lead to him, each of which is open to one person."

In Dueteronomy 30:14 the commandments of God are described as; "something very near to you, already in your mouths and in you hearts; you only have to carry it out."

In the parable of the two sons, Jesus says that the one who does the will of the father is the one who originally says he won't do it, but eventually goes out and does it anyway, not the one who says he will do it, and then does nothing.

I have often said that heaven will either be filled with a lot more people than we imagine, or a lot less. I'm beginning to lean towards the former. I think there are many, many people out there who don't call themselves Christians, but who are actually more 'Christian' than those who do. Somewhere along the way they've figured out that acting the way Christians are supposed to act is, in fact, the right way - it is something 'already in their mouths and in their hearts'. But that doesn't mean that those who call themselves Christians - even though they may be doing it badly, or different from us - are wrong. As Martin Buber says, they're simply coming to God in their own unique way. Peter Rollins argues that the sheer number of variations of Christian denominations and traditions out there is a testament to the fact that God cannot be known in his entirety, and that this is the way God wants it, so we don't end up making an idol of our particular brand of theology.

The poet Kathleen Norris in her book, The Cloister Walk, makes the point that Christianity is more like poetry than prose. And that when we take that poem, and start to break it down and analyze it, and turn it into dogma, that we lose the essence and beauty of it.

I must admit that I'm a bit like an ex-smoker who is the most critical of those who smoke. Because, as an ex-fundamentalist, it is fundamentalists that drive me the most crazy. But I'm starting to see Jesus' point when he said that those who aren't against us, are for us. And I'm starting to see that Christianity is more like poetry than prose, and I have to embrace the essence and beauty of it in all it's variations and differences. And I'm starting to see that no matter how right I think I am, I could still be wrong. And I'm starting to embrace the essence of Christianity wherever I find it: be it in the actions of someone who doesn't call themselves a Christian, the prostelizing of a fundamentalist, or the liturgy of the more traditional.

I think that the gospel, and God's love, is way bigger and more encompassing than any of us can imagine.

I sure hope it is, because my version is pretty puny.

Denying the Resurrection

"...we were having an argument about the resurrection, whether or not it had happened and whether or not it could be proved. One of my friends shared the story of how she had asked a liberal bishop if he actually believed in the resurrection. "Believe it?" he answered incredulously. "I've seen it too many times not to!"

This story comes from Diana Butler Bass' most recent book, "Christianity After Religion". She goes on from there to explain how we often get tied up in arguments about what we believe about the resurrection, and end up completely missing the more important question of "Do you trust in the resurrection?" What does she mean by that?

The cross is the most recognizable icon of Christianity. It wasn't always that way, but it is now. We see it in our churches, we wear it around our necks, we get it tattooed on various parts of our body, we put it on our bumpers - it's everywhere. Despite the many artistic variations of the cross, they can all be broken down into 2 basic forms: one depicting Christ on the cross, and one where the cross is empty. It seems protestants prefer the empty cross, while Roman Catholics and Orthodox prefer the the one with Christ on it - and each has their reasons for their preference. One emphasizes the death of Christ and Good Friday, while the other emphasizes the resurrection and therefore Easter Sunday. But I think this emphasis, as subtle as it is, is a mistake. It is a form of dualism, where we choose one over the other, when we should be embracing both equally.

Jesus came proclaiming the Kingdom of God, and showing us what that meant. He turned the rules of the day upside down with self sacrificing love. And when they nailed him to the cross for it, God vindicated him by raising him from the dead - in effect saying "See, I was right". Jesus on the cross shows us how much we are to love our neighbour, while the empty cross confirms that it's the right way to live.When the bishop says he has seen the resurrection too many times not to believe it, he is saying that he has seen people who's belief in the way of Jesus is so strong that they are willing go beyond normal forms of sacrificial love; that they are willing to embrace the radical, self sacrificing life of Christ. And when they believe in this way, their lives are raised from the death and decay of self destruction and emptiness to something beautiful and transformative.

The empty cross is the reason we believe, while Christ on the cross is how we live in response to that belief.

When Peter Rollins is asked if he believes in the resurrection, he answers "No". Then he goes on to explain that whenever he thinks a bad thought about someone, or whenever he fails to help a person in need, or whenever he acts in a selfish way - when he doesn't go the extra mile, or treat his neighbour as himself - he denies the resurrection. He is in effect saying, "I don't really believe in the resurrection, because if I did, I wouldn't do these things".

Do you believe in the resurrection? Do I?