Tension

Each week at my church we have a time set aside for members to share joys and sorrows that are on their hearts. It is, aside from the regular benediction given by the minister, my favorite part of the service.

Last week my wife was preaching for the first time and she was in charge of directing the entire service. So, as people made their way to the front of the room to light their candles and open their lives to the rest of the congregation I was particularly engaged.

The second person to share was a young lady in her early twenties. She is in college and had just gotten word this week that she received a grant that will pay for the rest of her schooling. She was understandably ecstatic. This young woman turned in to a giddy little girl as she expressed her excitement. Everything was right in her world and she was eager to share it with those who care about her.

The next man was a little older, maybe mid thirties. As he lit his candle and timidly made his way to the microphone, shoulders slumped, looking down, this 6’3” man turned into a small child. His father and step-mother of 23 years are getting a divorce, and his mother has a hardening of the lungs, which is most likely cancer. As he finished and the tears welled up in his eyes I was reminded of my own spiritual journey and how I came to be at this church.

Several years ago, before I had a child, I spent a summer with my wife in Uganda. There were many things that summer that began to change my world-view, probably because it was one of the first times that I was able to actually view the world. What struck me most, and still gives me pause to this day, is the contrast between my life and the lives of those I encountered in Uganda. I am wealthy beyond the dreams of Godfrey, the guard at the compound in which we stayed. I have opportunities that he will never have. I have seen more places than he will ever see. I have more rights and privileges than he can imagine.

I remember coming home and thanking God in prayer for the seemingly endless choice of food that we had available to put on table. I remember being grateful for my soft bed and the home that kept out all of the weather.

But all of my thankfulness eventually turned into questions. Why did I have all these things? Or, more importantly, why did other people not have all of these things? Is it because I am good? Or is it because they are bad? Am I faithful, or are they just not faithful enough? Why, if God gives me good things (and that is what I was constantly reminded of at church), does God not also give good things to everyone else? Why, if God answers the prayers of a church for a new million dollar building, will God not also answer the prayers of people who are asking only for enough food and water to live through the day?

Of course, if I asked those questions it only sparked anger. Others would get angry with me for presuming to be as smart as God. “Who can know the mind of God?” This, in turn, would make me angry. “How can I please God and live in relationship with God if God keeps hidden from me the very nature of goodness? Shouldn’t I be able to grasp what is good and what is evil? Isn’t that in Genesis? Are we not made in the image of God?”

Anger is not a good communicator. So I no longer asked those questions to my people, the people from which I came. Instead I found a place where I am able to ask questions and where I am able live in the tension. I go to a church where sorrows and joys are shared and accepted, the good with the bad. There is no need to offer excuse for God’s capriciousness. Rather, we are allowed to accept life as it is: joyful, sorrowful, plentiful, needful. And we are content to offer what we can.

“For the joys shared, we join you in celebration. For the sorrows and concerns spoken here, may you feel our sympathy and compassion. For all that remains unspoken, both joys and sorrows, may the caring of our community offer you both kindness and hope.”

The Marquee

When I was young I went to a church that had a marquee in front of it. I don't recall ever reading it, though I'm sure I did.

I have not worked for or gone to a church that has a marquee since I've been an "adult". I do, however, make a concerted effort to read marquees whenever I see them in from of churches.

Marquees are generally a church's first opportunity to make a bad impression. Churches usually succeed in that area with the aid of the marquee. It seems to be very difficult to sum up anything meaningful in 12 inch movable letters.

Instead churches settle for putting silly things on a large board for all of the world to see and judge them by. Usually it is unfortunate.

A church near to my house has a fairly good track record with the marquee. Most of the time the things on their marquee are not offensive or silly. Sometimes they offer a greeting to visitors or passersby. Other times simple sayings that at least give you something to think about.

This week it said:

Most of our burdens are self imposed.

Any comments?

Does that tell you anything about the theology of the church?

Agree or Disagree?

Belief and Judgment

This is a post that I have been thinking about for a long time. It is also a post that I hope will propel me into writing again.

Here is a question I have: Why should I care what someone else believes?

I am thinking particularly about religious beliefs but I suppose it could be asked about any beliefs at all.

I would like to hear initial reactions as well as carefully considered responses to that question.

It seems to me that there are a couple of possibilities. One is that I care what another person believes so that I can carefully consider that person's point of view and learn something from it. Second, and more likely in my experience, is that I care what another person believes so that I can make judgment(s) about that person and either align with or distance myself from that person. I might also be seeking to persuade or violently force others to accept my own beliefs, which also involves judgment of the other person.

The bottom line is that I am wondering if this seemingly innate desire to know the beliefs of another is helpful for my life at all. Or is it something that I can stop asking and caring about?