Attachments of Faith

Posted by: Richenda at Mon Dec 15, 11:17 AM in


Lodi – Il Tempio Civico della Beata Vergine Incoronata ByGiovanni 2014 Flickr CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

I am attached to the idea of really good church. I love the feeling I get when I walk into a place that feels like sanctuary, as if the Holy Spirit has touched down there so many times that one day the Spirit decided simply to stay, and cry, and play, and love the people who worship there for as long as there is lamenting and praising before God.

I am attached to the idea of deeply loving God, of breathing in and of and with the Holy Spirit as I lift my hands to pray, lift my voice to sing, lift my heart to all that is Good, and lift my soul to the Lord, for my soul belongs to God. I am deeply attached to the word ‘beloved.’

I am attached to the notion of really good church community. I love the idea of being one of a great family of believers with whom I work for the glory of the Kingdom of God. And yes I said ‘glory,’ because God is glorious. And yes, I believe there is and will be a kingdom of God, a shining city, welcoming to all people, abundant with all creation, and flowing with the waters of life.


Warm enough by Andrew Vargas 2007 flickr CC BY 2.0

I am attached to—no committed to—the journey of my Christian faith. And I love being in a small group of people willing to share that journey with me, enriching my faith, challenging my limitations, strengthening my cowardice, holding my hand. I seek and need that circle of folk, people who I am honored to listened to, blessed to have shared with, and know I can count on for support and prayer come what may.

I am attached to good rituals of ‘hello’ and ‘farewell.’ I love being greeted by a brother or sister of the church who has the vulnerability and strength to look into my eyes warmly and lovingly. This is the sort of ‘hello’ you make when you really mean it! It says, ‘welcome’ and ‘I see you.’ Likewise I love a really good goodbye and fare well, with eye contact and a warm touch, a palm pressed against my forearm, a palm raised in a gesture of benediction. Like this:

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face…
(Irish Blessing)


Church Dancing by Adam Cohn 2011 flickr CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I am attached living the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth with all my ability. I want to find compassion, generosity, kindness, and courage within me every day. I want to encourage compassion, generosity, kindness and courage in others. I want all people to know how precious they really are. I want people to really get that inside, to their core, that they are children of God. I want people to know that no matter how hard it gets or how bad they feel there is nothing more powerful than God, and God can and will work Goodness in their life.

I love the idea of Christ-like companionship—all people, all faces, all generations. I am attached to the hope of both receiving and providing that companionship. I am attached to the idea that I can learn to truly and humbly see the light in my family, my friend, my enemy and my neighbor, whether or not they see the light in me.


Looking Across Generations in Hyderabad by United Nations Photo 2009 Flickr CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I am attached to the idea of Grace—that God loves and blesses us even when we don’t deserve it. Even if we fall short over and over again, I am attached to the idea that we practice getting up, and getting up again, and in each falling short and getting up we are learning a little bit more to trust in God until one day we may be sanctified, a whole people “attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (Ep 4:13)

Attachments are a feature of our lives. We are too often attached to things that are not life affirming. Because we think we are not worthy on the inside, or are too hurried or too depleted, or because we don’t really love, we are reluctant to participate in rituals of greeting, in small groups of listening, or in the kingdom work of building communities of justice and compassion. We raise up idols of wealth and status, after all these are far easier to chase after in the short term, in the midst of a life of turmoil and disconnection, when the waters of God’s shining city seem impossibly far away.

There are some who would say the highest order of human good is to let go of all attachments, every one. There are also those who say that self-seeking is the only right seeking. But I am not attached to those ideas. I believe that those of us called to Christianity are called to some attachments. I believe Christian discipleship is a discipline of heart and mind and Spirit. I believe that as a Christian I am indeed called to be and do things that matter in the world. I believe that we are called to this: to act with justice, to love kindness, to serve our neighbor, to love our enemy, and to walk humbly with our God.

Yes. I am very, very much attached to that. And I invite you to be a Christian disciple and to walk the Way with me.

May the Lord bless you and keep you.
May the Lord make his face shine upon you.
May the Lord look toward you and grant you peace.
(Numbers 6:24-26)

Church Rummage Sales, Scarcity, and Debt

Posted by: Richenda at Tue Oct 28, 12:29 PM in

What does it mean to be starving?
What about the phrase, ‘starved for time’?

I want to talk about that for a few minutes, but not in the sense of outliers, those who experience true famine. I want to talk about what scarcity means in the normal course of a normal lifetime, given regular circumstances and everyday people.

I want to talk about Scarcity, Tunneling, Slack, and Abundance.

I picked up this book, titled Scarcity, because I wanted to better understand how I could help the finance team at our church to see possibilities beyond the fear and lack they seemed to be stuck in. I kept reading it because I found myself within it, too, that part of me that works too many hours and tries to do too much.

For the finance team there is never enough money. For me, there is never enough time.

This book explores scarcity. The authors gathered everyday people for their research. In one study they separated people into groups, one group stated they were on a diet, the other group stated they were not. They gave these groups tests measuring executive functioning and fluid intelligence, and they asked them to do a couple of word searches.

Just the regular kind of wordsearch, with the letters all in rows and the point is to find the words hidden inside. The groups searched for words: Street, lamp, building, cloud. Then they had a different wordsearch which substituted a few of the neutral words for loaded ones, and the groups were asked to search for the word Cake and the word Donut.

The group that was not dieting had no difference in the speed of their search or their intelligence when searching for words like Cake. But the dieters did. The food words slowed them down, considerably.

The same for the groups that were told to imagine they needed an expensive car repair. Just imagining such a scenario flustered and distracted regular people to the point that their executive functioning skills and intellectual capacity was diminished the same as if they had pulled an all-nighter at the office. Their IQ dropped 14 points.

The researchers gave participants a whole lot of tests, and over and over again they found people responded to scarcity—rich or poor—in exactly the same way. The only difference was how much slack they had to work with.

What do we do in the face of scarcity?

When we are faced with scarcity, we get tunnel vision and actually improve our performance in dealing with the problem. Hunger boosts our focus and improves our ability to find food.

But this boost is short lived and cannot be maintained. It is also very narrow, so that while you might be very good in the short term at trading off calories to achieve that slice of cake, you are not very good at dealing with anything else.

What you need is slack. What you wish for is abundance.

But when you have abundance you tend to squander it.

Let’s say I have an abundant amount of rope. I can let it “play out” and it is not going to evoke from me a scarcity response. I have room for mistakes, I can take chances.

But then, if things get tighter, I find I am losing ground. I need slack and I start borrowing, borrowing from the vacation budget to pay the visa bill, borrowing from dinner calories to gain lunch calories, and that works, until the slack is gone and the auto repair costs 3 grand and more than maxes out the visa card, and for dinner there is lasagna and deep fried ice cream.

I am at the end of my rope.

Scarcity leads to tunneling, tunneling leads to borrowing until there is no slack left. It’s a trap, you get deeper and deeper and all you can see is scarcity.

Tunneling short term gives you a focus boost that can boost your performance to accomplish that next thing. The church budget gets tight, you have another rummage sale—and that rummage sale is one heck of a rummage sale—but everything else, your kids, your house, your health, your sleep, your hope, your willingness to take risk, it all get compromised.

We have this hope that abundance is somehow deep in the tunnel you know so well, despite the terrible fruit tunneling brings, the ill health, broken relationships, and desperate debt.

It is as if we worship famine instead of God.

Famine is biblical. When Pharaoh dreams of seven fat cows and seven skinny cows Joseph’s careful attention to managing the problems of debt and abundance mean many live who would have died, the stability of the kingdom is maintained, the Pharaoh emerges far richer than before, all because this man, Joseph, this exiled, imprisoned slave who had lost everything, listened to God, trusting that God was with him all the while.

You have to lose your life to gain it.

This book got me thinking about the phrase “going for broke.” In the context of scarcity, “going for broke” means exactly what you think it means. It means you sure are going to be broke. You are actively choosing brokenness, and you are going to be so broke you are never digging out again. You might as well play the last shreds because you are going to lose it all.

But there is more to the phrase “going for broke” than that. “Going for broke” is an American proverb, it’s a paradox. It means losing it all, but it also means letting go and maybe getting everything.

For those of us who dig deep into scarcity and won’t look right or left, for us “going for broke” is that moment even me with my thick skull begins to figure out that maybe this isn’t a winning strategy. That maybe all this borrowing is not going to pay off in some great act of a merciful God who will pity me personally for digging so deep that my rope has become so thin, I am hanging by a thread.

I am Abraham, knife in hand, so sure that God wants me to slaughter my son that I am standing over him, knife in hand. My son is squirming, but all I see is the belief I have that maybe this time my sacrifice will be enough.

I am going for broke. And I see my son. And I grasp the handle of the knife.

I am prepared to “double down” but for the first time I am also “looking up.” You have come to the breaking point, the path is set, no more imagining you can borrow anything else, no imaginary slack is going to show up. And if there is nothing left, it breaks the spell for an instant, and you remember the world, and you remember life, and there, in the bushes is a ram, and the angel of the Lord whispers, “Abraham, why don’t you sacrifice that ram instead of Isaac?”

In our fear of scarcity, we sacrifice our abundance. Let’s not do that. Let’s look up before the end. Whatever it takes, let’s raise the cry, jolt our awareness, and take heart and believe that something else is truly possible.

We are, we have to be, a people of abundance. We do not worship a God of famine and poverty and debt, we worship a God of possibility, we worship a God of Life.

Praise be to God. Amen.

___________________

If you get the chance, I absolutely recommend this book: SCARCITY: Why Having Too Little Means So Much by Sendhil Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir, Times Books, 2013.

Images:
Cake: Pound Cake by Scheinwerfermann 2008 Public Domain, Wiki Commons
Rummage: Seattle Nihon Go Gakko rummage by Joe Mabel 2009 CC BY-SA 3.0
Boat: Boat and rope by Lee 2006 Flickr CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

And yes, I borrowed time to write this….

An Abandoned Line...progressivism, truth, & opportunity

Posted by: Richenda at Fri Aug 22, 02:30 PM in


(Abandoned Line by The B’s 2007 Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0)

I woke today from a teaching-dream, an insight dream that came as well with a lesson of significance to aid in understanding and correct interpretation. These are uncommon gifts, and one I felt was worth sharing. The dream has to do with western rationalist progressive thinking, and how that influences our interpretations of what we see, how that causes value judgments that might not always be that helpful.

I dreamt this morning that we sold our old house, my partner and I. We sold our house in Camas and we moved into a crappy house, to be frank. It was small, like a trailer but not as good. There were three rooms, it was a rectangle. There was a small square sitting room, bland and dim, and a hovel kitchen, and a rectangle family room that looked like it had been used as a meth house or some other failure-of-life situation. It had great swaths of black over walls and the ceiling, as if it had been either scorched by fire or someone with black spray paint had had at it. The paint in general was splotched and awful. The carpet was whole, but torn and ragged at the walls.


(Trashed house by David 2012 Flickr CC BY-SA 2.0)

There were no windows in the house. This room had three closets that came into the room as protruding triangles. These storage areas were small and ridiculous really, what space was there? I opened two of them. One was a desk with the doors folded awkwardly so as to be a hidden computer & desk area. The other was a closet proper but little space inside. There was stuff it there, our old vacuum cleaner, and some kind of electronic instrument—electric ‘piano’ or synthesizer. These hung on a hook and were plugged in. Someone had left the switch for the vacuum on. It was loud and obnoxious. I could not at first figure it out, but then turned the vacuum off.

I hollered to my partner in the smaller room how much work there was to do here. The room needed painting and decorating and cleaning and the carpet needed to be replaced. My partner suggested the carpet might survive. I wasn’t sure about that. Maybe just good cleaning would work. I looked at the room. The dirt wasn’t so much of the problem, I thought, as much as was the design. It was so badly designed and awkward.

I went back in the small room for a meal. My partner had similarities to my husband about him, but was very different. This man was bulkier, sicker. He was okay personally and mentally, not an oaf but a regular guy, decent, and a good partner. But physically different and really not the same man as my husband.

I sat at a bald table in the dingy room next to a friend from years ago. I can’t remember the conversation.

I began to wake up. Rolling over I contemplated this dream, with its horrible house. I thought to myself, what have I done? I thought of my own lovely-but-needing-a-few-things house in Camas, and houses much bigger and more beautiful I have dreamed of more recently. Particularly I thought of the dream I had at the Commissioning retreat, where I dreamed I had been appointed to a beautiful church…a house turned place of worship… so very beautiful, such affirmation, assurance, and blessing! And I thought, what have I done? I have sold out my beautiful house and taken on this one! I have been working too hard, compromising too much of my own self and spiritual health. I have chosen a professional path that keeps me behind the scenes, and I miss opportunities of promotion and interactions that I value.

I drifted a bit, back into the dream world and the dream house. I thought about something. I thought of how I have been working through assumptions of progressiveness in my life and my theology. I have realized in this working-through that I am not really a ‘progressive.’ What is progressivism, really. Where am I in this? What is their/the/my assumptive ground?

I lack a full definition of ‘progressive’ for myself, but very particularly I resist the thought under-girding progressivism that everything is better ‘going forward.’ I believe true aliveness and the activity of the divine is more cyclical or seasonal, rotational, that sort of thing, than a rising linear line churning a forward wave with expectations of constant improvement. (Don’t tell my wonderful process-theo friends, for I love them I just can’t meet them here.)

From that progressive perspective, this house felt like a ‘downgrade,’ a ‘set back.’ And, those words freighted with the progressive value set says that back is bad, less evolved, less whole, less capable, and less self-actuated (with self actuation always an assumed good, though it is not).

Think of how we western rationalists freight the phrases ‘going up’ or ‘going down.’ Which is ‘better’? And I have noticed this and called baloney on this many times. The freight given to the expression ‘going forward’ can be deserved. ‘Going forward’ can be a good thing and wise-in-action (I like the word ‘wise’ rather than ‘true’ in this example, as we really do not know what is true. Truth as a divine thing inbreaks our world in different times and places so that it does not always look the same to us—individually or collectively. True and real divine ‘truth’ from different perspectives can cause sectarian and ideological conflict. True then, realized, is not always a given good, and that is horrifying to consider.)

‘Truth’ also falls prey to the ‘progressive’ freighting system which diminishes it with the idea that truth itself ‘evolves’ and becomes better over chronological—or even divine—time. Again, this is a dangerous perspective as ‘truth,’ like the divine, is essentially unchanging and eternal. Our view and understanding of truth can change, but not truth itself.


(Cherub rock by INTVGene 2007 Flickr CC BY-SA 2.0)

‘Progressives’ might freight the change in a human’s understanding of truth as ‘better’ and ‘more advanced’ over chronological time, as well. I would push back against that and suggest we find a way to talk about our own ‘rotating, not developing’ (or even rotating-as-developing) understanding to make room(s) for us to recognize that there are seasons of thought or feeling. John Wesley talks about ‘maturing’ in faith, and maturing is a seasoned activity.

It is a good thing to mature in faith, and we can and do experience chronological time. As long as our faith-language speaks to the goal of clearing and moving faithfully then it can be very helpful language. However, we must guard for ideologies that impose limits, arrogance, or tyrannies.

So this dream exposed another inner tyranny. Though I have mulled my non-progressive self I also recognize how steeped I am in progressive thinking. This dream invited me to see a little more, again.

I recognized that in all the aspects of the dream were things I would associate with ‘down grade.’ The old vacuum (now broken), the synthesizer, the horrible, torn up room, the tiny closets, the crammed in desk (at least there was one!), the awful kitchen, the dingy square room, the less-healthy partner, the less-admired friend.

When looking at the larger room, I had been more optimistic at first thinking that a little paint and brightening up would go a long way. But I was rapidly moving toward feelings of pessimism and regret. The more I looked, the more the trade off seemed awful. We traded our lovely house for this? Really?

In waking I had a chance to bring this contemplation to my waking memory. I listened to this dream conversation and reflective insight that if I broke free from judging with the ‘progressive’ eye I might see the situation differently. I thought, ‘well, if I am not a progressive I do not have to think of a setback as a bad thing.’ That very thought freed me to see differently. I was at this time back in the dream again, and I thought that where I was presented presented not decline (with progressive freight added) but opportunity. I realized that I had the freedom always to see ‘setbacks’ as a working of the divinehood (and manifested in its nature—we are the nature of the divine in that we are the creation) that makes room for opportunity and space for new things, different outcomes, deeper meaning-making.

I know that feels like a big ‘duh,’ but let it sink in. Let it form you. Let it make space within you in a holy way.

In sitting in the pool of this, I then turned back toward the square room. As I did so I saw a new door. It occurred to me that I had not thought of bedrooms before, or any other possibilities belonging to this house. The new door was an open passageway. It was in shadow, but beyond the door I saw there were more rooms. And this, to me, was the validation, if you will. The proof that I had shifted-to-the-good in some important way.

This new sight/site was a gift, a gift that came out of the recognition that ‘set back’ when freed of the progressive gaze gains (invites intentional openness to) the power of possibility. Possibility, then, becomes the primary good over every trajectory of course. Possibility becomes the power-conduit traversed in reaching for a in-or-outbreaking truth. ‘Set back’ then, not only vitally reveals possibility, but it is, as a reduction to the assumption (a descent from the ascension), especially essential to it.

Turning Our Groaning into Dancing: A Reflection on Change and Complaint

Posted by: Richenda at Tue Aug 12, 04:07 AM in


Photo: Woman holding hair (modified) by Helmuts Guigo 2012 Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0

Change is an integral part of life, but it is not always easy. Change is often accompanied by stress and discomfort. For some, discomfort is really difficult and frustrating—at all costs we want the discomfort to stop! For others, discomfort is a sign of good things on the horizon—they sense new opportunities and new challenges ahead!

Our bodies are material, spiritual, and biochemical. We experience discomfort physically in our bodies and identify this feeling as ‘stress.’ For a long time stress was thought of as ‘bad,’ destructive to the body and its systems, and so to be avoided. Research proves the opposite is true. This is good news! In times of discomfort, our bodies, created by God, are designed to give us a biochemical ‘boost’ to help us out. This boost is a gift of energy and courage. We are biochemically ‘charged up to buckle down’ and make it through the present challenges to the good possibilities ahead. (See Kelly McGonigal’s 2013 TedTalk ‘How to make stress your friend.’ )

Complaint is a short term stress reliever. It can feel better in the short term to ‘kvetch’ a little. This can really be helpful when it does not bring people down, sort of like letting a little air out of an overly-stretched balloon. Complaint can help us release emotional turmoil so we can think clearly again. Prayer, peace, a nap, these things also help.

Complaint can also draw attention to important problems that need solutions. In the story of Moses and the Exodus, Moses leads the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, across the Reed Sea, and into the desert wilderness.

While there is plenty of complaining in the book of Exodus that is just not necessary, in chapter seventeen, when the people complain about the lack of water, it seems to me that this complaint is exactly on point. This is a people near crisis. They are exhausted, homeless, wandering, and there is no water. They have nothing left and cannot yet imagine a way forward. They complain to Moses: “Why did you bring us out of Egypt to kill us, our children, and our livestock with thirst?” God responds, saying to Moses, “I’ll be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Hit the rock. Water will come out of it, and the people will be able to drink.”


Photo: Split Apple Rock by Tristan Schmurr 2012 flickr cc by 2.0

We get a similar complaint in the gospels with the story of the storm on the sea of Galilee. Peter and the disciples are in a boat when a storm kicks up and they experience real fear. They do not think God is doing enough as the waves increase (Jesus is asleep in the boat) and so they wake him by crying out “Master, we are perishing!” (Luke 8:24 ; Matt 8:25 ; Mark 4:38). Jesus is less patient than Moses as he admonishes the disciples for complaining! But he also listens. Jesus calms the storm and the disciples get a little lecture about needing to have more faith.

In both cases the complaint comes from faithful people as an expression of logical or emotional last resort. These folks recognize their lives are at risk from forces much bigger than they are, and their complaint is a protest to this injustice. If they have acted faithfully, why the storm at all? They experience real powerlessness and frustration. They call out to God recognizing it is God’s power they need and as a reminder to God of God’s promises to them. In the midst of massive cultural changes—as for the Israelites in the Exodus—or deep social and religious change—such as for the disciples—both groups want to know “is the Lord with us or not?” (Ex 17:7)


Photo: Lifeboat by Paul Appleton 2013 Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0

Complaint has real use. But the catch with complaint is that it can be enormously destructive to good changes and good community. Complaints can become loud and build from one person to another bringing the whole group down. There is the group in Exodus who would much rather return to slavery and be fed, than face the changes required to live in the new community God is making.

Complaint is especially destructive when it is used as a strategy to gain power in order to destroy change and restore status quo. Complaining requires someone to complain to, and soon a group can form that complain together, thus dividing the community. If a complainant can get enough people ‘on their side,’ they can really undermine missional efforts and even insist all changes stop. Though the intent may be to use the power of complaint to restore their comfort, the result is a power struggle that actively divides people, thereby thwarting and/or complicating the mission of the community. (See this lovely video breakdown by Mathew David Bardwell ‘Friedman’s Theory of Differentiated Leadership Made Simple’ based on Edwin Friedman’s book Failure of Nerve.)

As a member of healthy community, there are some things everyone has a right to. As a community member, you have a right (in fact, your community is counting on you!) to speak your truth. You have a right to be heard, a right to lament, and a right to be loved and respected. You have a right to be part of what God is doing in this good world. But, you do not have the right to use your gifts and energies to bring down your neighbor or your community, consolidate power in your favor, or exclude others. No one person gets all the power or all the talent, that’s the strength of community. We delegate, include, invite, share, work, struggle, dream, build and reap the harvest all together.

A community is a specific group of people. I believe that in church work, we are called together because God—who is so loving and so good—has brought us here! Something about who we are in Christ is essential to what God is doing right now in and through relational community. Our communities are counting on us to show up with our gifts and to grow our knowledge and abilities because we are an integral part of God’s great work and essential to the mission at hand.

So perhaps, as you kvetch a little to ease the discomforts you feel, also practice seeing and using stress in a new way. If someone needs to kvetch to you, give them the gift of empathy and listen—then encourage them to be courageous and take some forward-leaning action that will benefit the mission of the community. Let us all rejoice in recognizing that the presence of stress is a ‘boost’, a blessing not a curse! Let the gift of stress energize your mind toward solutions, energize your body toward the necessary work, and fill your heart with courage. Extend a hand through the storm, strike the rock! And help your neighbor through.


Photo: Woman reaching out by Helmuts Guigo 2012 Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0

And in all things, practice gratitude to God who is steadfast in the wilderness. Mourn the losses when they come, for they are real. But do not forget to celebrate every new blessing from a loving God who is making all things new.

And yet we are alive!

In times of stress, trust to the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
• Speak your truth with courage, love and tact.
• Practice empathy and positive listening. Ask “How can I help?” Or say, “I really need help.”
• Actively seek constructive remedy. Ask, “how can my gifts and strengths contribute to a good outcome, here?”

And here is a hymn to sing as we rejoice:

And Yet We Are Alive
And are we yet alive,
and see each other’s face?
Glory and thanks to Jesus give
for his almighty grace!

Preserved by power divine
to full salvation here,
again in Jesus’ praise we join,
and in his sight appear.

What troubles have we seen,
what mighty conflicts past,
fightings without, and fears within,
since we assembled last!

Yet out of all the Lord
hath brought us by his love;
and still he doth his help afford,
and hides our life above.

Then let us make our boast
of his redeeming power,
which saves us to the uttermost,
till we can sin no more.

Let us take up the cross
till we the crown obtain,
and gladly reckon all things loss
so we may Jesus gain.

"Boomer Contemporary"

Posted by: Richenda at Fri Aug 1, 11:37 AM in

I was scrolling through tweets this morning to discover Amy Hanson’s little gem “For the love of all things holy can we please STOP referring to the sort of worship/music popularized 30 years ago as contemporary?!”

To which I retweeted a resounding YES! And appreciated as well the statement that Contemporary Worship/Music is a hallmark of the boomers.

I am 48 (Gen X) and I get frustrated because it seems that everyone agrees I should be eager to celebrate every Sunday morning with ‘Contemporary’ worship music. (And if it bothers me…and my hair is gray…what can this mean for Millennials & Gen Y?)

Yes, there are things I like about this music. These are the anthems of the Baby Boomers and those who love them. (And I love Baby Boomers, too.) I sing these on Sunday like I sing the anthems of the Traditional Generations (from the Hymnal and at the Assisted Living) before them. I love, respect, admire, and share the music of many generations—even generations long, long gone as is the case for something like Ode to Joy and the Hallelujah Chorus. I am happy to continue traditions that feed our hunger. What I don’t want is tyranny.

The trouble (and whining) I have is when a word like ‘Contemporary’ gets confused to mean ‘in perpetuity’ and applied to me as if ‘Contemporary’ in any way names my experiences, or the experiences of those in the 21st century. Contemporary in the worship setting to me means ‘antique.’ Sorry, but that’s just true. (On the upside, I do not think of ‘antique’ as bad. I like new things and antique things, both.)

Here’s some really good news: If we don’t worship Modernity-Contemporaneity, we don’t have to trash everything else.

The idea of ‘Contemporary’ has its roots in modernism. In their day (1910s) the ‘Modernists’ felt modern indeed. And they were. It was the dawn of the power of theories such as biological evolution, and our minds as material biology seemed to have reached some transcendent and wonderful peak—or was right on the cusp. Modernism ruled the day. The generations who held to modernism gave us an idea so powerful—one that was so richly rewarding to the psyche—that the idea of ‘modernity’ maintained its power for a century. The word morfed into ‘Contemporary’ so it could sound hipper to the Boomers who were young people of the time. And the word clung on—bug-eyed—and refused to leave forcing a nomenclature that included it as post-modernism.

I really don’t want to rant…what you are hearing from me is more fatigue and frustration. I just want us to get past this. I really do. (But, if you really want a rant, check out my blog from May 2008. 2008! Sigh. Why are we still talking about this? Festival of Homiletics: Day Six)

In a nutshell, I want what Amy wants. I want us to ‘please STOP referring to the sort of worship/music popularized 30 years ago as contemporary.’ STOP using it as if this is a ‘modern’ term, & STOP imagining the ‘modern’ way of life is still in place. It’s not. Not as Modernism. Not as Post-Modernism. Modernism has already left the church but not the building. Church buildings have become that place of last stand, that last fortress island. If only the trustees would relinquish the key.

This mindset trips us up and prevents us from growing. It trips us and actually prevents us from living the Gospel today in the face of stark realities like child poverty, homelessness, lack of health care, lack of a living wage… No true ‘Modernist’ was ever supposed to lack anything. I wish that that had turned out to be the case, I really do. But that’s not what happened. That’s not where we are now. And until we look again to see what is really here today, this day, we’re going to be blindly balancing in our walkers as we clutch the microphone, singing Shine, Jesus, Shine ‘in perpetuity.’

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