{Many Questions and Few Answers Along the Never-Finished Journey of Faith}
Why I Need Poetry
> “Poetry is thoughts that breathe; words that burn” (Thomas Gray)
Why do I need poetry?
Poetry is the language that puts words on the sounds and silences that make up our lives. It is the power to name that which is un-nameable. It is the grace to name something “Mystery” and to take comfort in that.
Why do I need poetry?
Poetry is the force that allows us to speak with fierce honesty about ourselves and the world we live in. It shatters the glass cases we use to contain things like faith, love, hope, and God. Poetry scoffs at our clichés because it knows those are merely our attempts to avoid life as it really is.
Why do I need poetry?
Poetry challenges me to see that the world is made up of more than just myself and my own junk. It dares to set free that which I try to put in a neat box. Poetry calls me to the silence and beckons me to be present in it.
Why do I need poetry?
Because on days when I am consumed with my own busyness, and pretend like I have all of the answers, I need to be reminded that in order to truly live, I stop pretending, slow down, and learn to sit with my own questions. For that is where God will meet us.
Some Days…
Some days…I grow weary of cookie cutter faith.
If a grave could not hold God, what makes us think a neat little box of our own making will do it? We would rather spend our energies proclaiming how God rubber stamps our political/social/ideological views and we miss the face of Christ in the stranger we pass by. You see, that stranger is longing for just a few moments from a Good Samaritan. But the only faith we can seem to articulate is meant for bumper stickers and sound bytes. How is it, again, that faith can somehow fit so neatly in a sentence or two? Would someone please remind me how to speak of God in 30 words or less in light of the madness of the world we live in?
Some days…I am bored with “churchy” talk.
It doesn’t matter if we sit in cathedrals and sing 300-year old hymns or if we gather in a storefront and pretend like what we’re doing is somehow new or contemporary — we think faith means severing all ties to the world around us. We say following Jesus means pretending like we don’t live outside the church six days a week. We want to act as though one hour a week (or maybe two if we count our Sunday School/Small Group/Community Group/Life Group/etc.) is the totality of our discipleship. We tell people serving on committees or volunteering to sustain our building or programs is what it means to follow Jesus. We forget that life happens outside of the “praise” we offer in worship. We avoid the tough questions and the messy circumstances because we don’t want to “turn people off” or somehow make others question God. We pray that life doesn’t get too complicated for people so they’ll continue attending and going through the motions of “church.” But life happens. It turns worlds upside down much like Jesus turns tables over in temples where we worship idols of wealth, self-help, and politics masked as faith. Where’s the bumper sticker when you lose a baby? Where’s the clever sermon series that speaks to the horrors of cancer or addiction? What pithy phrase do we dare offer when we learn of abuse or prejudice?
Some days…I get tired of the church’s navel gazing.
I grow weary of conversations where institutional survival is the main topic. Decline drives us to insanity some days. Maybe it’s not decline in size, but decline in influence and prestige? I don’t know. All I know is we absolutely cannot stand the fact that we are not what we once were. It scares us to death to think of a world where we are not the center of attention or the major power broker at the table. If only there were one more program, one more campaign, one more slogan that could “save” us. Never mind the fact that “the Church is of God and it will last until the end of time.” We’re not signing on that dotted line unless it means we remain at the top of the social mountain. Is it possible to be the Church for the sake of the world even if we’re not the church of the nation?
Some days…I want to count myself with the doubters.
Knowing it all can reveal the fact that we really know nothing when it comes to the living God. A faith built on answers leaves no room for mystery. It doesn’t grant permission for struggle. It fails to admit that we might not know everything when it comes to God. I want to struggle with my faith or else how am I supposed to grow? I want to doubt or else how am I to truly appreciate when I am in the presence of mystery? Let other people “know it all” and have the answers. I know it makes things like preaching and teaching difficult. But if faith were simply advice we sought “buy-in” for, then is that really faith at all? Surely there’s more than meets the eye?
Some days I want to write as a writer who happens to be Christian instead of a “Christian writer.”
“Christian writers” too often fear offending others or, God forbid, their narrow doctrine or worldview. Christian writers prefer a Christian world of their own making that’s “safe for the family” and pretends like messy things like death or poverty or cursing or prejudice do not exist. This Christian world emphasizes self-sufficiency and raising well-behaved kids. It has no time for people who struggle because they can’t pay their bills, find adequate healthcare, or who’s lives refuse to fit in the mold called “The American Dream.”
Writers who are Christian want to engage the world around them. They want to open themselves to the world instead of closing themselves off to it in fear. They refuse to be shackled by the narrow world of “church” because they know God is alive and well in the most unexpected places. They know the power at work in our everyday lives and they know how to tell a compelling story. They know God rarely fits into a formula or plan of action. And they trust that a story’s power can speak, by grace of the God, even when they do not have the answers. It’s reckless, yet freeing. It’s exhausting and messy, yet life-giving and strangely beautiful.
Some days…I want to be that kind of writer. I want to be that kind of pastor.
Poem for 2nd Sunday of Easter: Holiness of Doubt
“The Incredulity of Saint Thomas” by Carravagio
Holiness of Doubt
Lord, forgive.
Forgive when I think I have you all figured out;
when I mistake certainty for faith;
doubt for sin.
Mystery is the very fragrance of life with you –
enfolding
surrounding
evading.
Wonderful are the days
when belief takes the form of proof.
Wonderful, too, are the days when
form is fleeting,
chaos,
and faith is all we have to cling to.
Life is found in the in-between:
proof and mystery
form and chaos
belief and doubt.
O God,
Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe…
Blessed, too, are those who still doubt…
and yet long for more.
2013: A Year for the Prayer “Help. Wow. Thanks.”
I’m a book person. I love to read. My wife tells me I own too many books. But I can’t help it, it’s a passion for me. You can imagine my joy when on Christmas morning I woke up and unwrapped a couple of new books I really wanted.
One of the books I received is the new book by Anne Lamott, “Help, Thanks, Wow.” If you’re not familiar with Lamott, let me be the first to tell you to put down your newspaper, go online and order one of her books. Besides being a fantastic writer, Lamott is a recovering addict who found faith later in life. While her fiction is good, I’m particularly moved by her books on life and faith. If you ever hear me preach in person, don’t be surprised when an Anne Lamott quote sneaks into the sermon. She brings a perspective on faith that is informed by real life — a tough life no less — that just moves me more than most any traditional theological writing can.
In her latest book, Lamott writes:
“I do not know much about God and prayer, but I have come to believe, over the last twenty-five years, that there’s something to be said about keeping prayer simple. Help. Thanks. Wow.”
I like that. Conversation with God can begin in those three words.
Help: I cannot get through life by myself — no matter how much I like to think I can.
Thanks: By God’s grace I am blessed beyond measure and this is not by my efforts alone.
Wow: The world, its people and life are all beautifully made. We cannot help but celebrate and bask in the wonder of it all.
As we begin 2013, can we declare a moratorium on our platitudes and issues? Can we say “enough” with the political grandstanding and divisive conversations? Can we try harder to search in the midst of our frustrations for God’s grace? After all, grace has this way of surprising us. Can we pledge, here at the beginning of a new year, to set aside our prejudices and frustrations and look for God’s presence among us?
The ancient story is told that some disciples were sitting around questioning their elder hoping to gain some insight into the meaning of life.
“Where shall I find God in life?” the disciples asked the elder.
“God is with you everywhere,” the wise elder replied.
“But if that is true,” the disciples asked, “why can I not see this presence of God?”
“Because,” said the elder, “you are like the fish who, when in the ocean, never notice the water.”
Lately, some people have questioned where God is in the midst of life and even tragedy. Let me put that question to rest by saying this: God is with us always no matter what. So maybe our prayers of help, wow, and thanks are not so much a beckon for God to show up as they are a reminder for us to stop and look for God in the middle of where we are. I suppose we’ve got a fresh calendar and the endless possibilities of a new year to find out.
[This column originally ran in the Macon Telegraph on Saturday, Jan. 12, 2013 ]
Relevance or Faithfulness: An All Saints Day Reflection
“The Church needs to be more relevant!” ”If you want to attract a new generation, you’ve got to be relevant!” “The Church has lost touch with people, it needs to be more relevant!”
These are some of the generic statements one might hear at most any leadership training, group forum, or casual conversation among clergy. The consensus seems to be that church decline is largely due to an “out of touchness” that marks the Church these days. And the solution seems to be that if we have any hope of be in ministry with those currently outside of church, then we’d better get cracking on finding ways to be more relevant.
If the church is going to survive, then we better stop looking so much like church, and start being something more relevant.
So what are some possible solutions?
What about music? Yes, we need more relevant music. People don’t want to hear boring hymns played on pipe organs anymore. And make it happy music. No depressing stuff. That’s a good place to start!
What about church structure? Yes, we need a church structure that understands people lead very busy and mobile lives. You can’t expect people to be at worship every Sunday anymore. We need services on days other than Sundays. And we need to be able to reach people where they are even if that’s not in person on a Sunday morning. Good idea!
What about trying to meet the needs of modern people? Yes, we need to give people biblical principles for the issues they face everyday. Tell them what the Bible says about a topic. We don’t need to worry with teaching people how to read the Bible in such a way that might change them — no time for that; too many other tasks to accomplish. Excellent idea!
Now I’m writing a little tongue-in-cheek here. Believe me, on our very best days we can be the Church in very relevant ways for all people — those inside and outside of our walls. But some days it’s a good thing to be the Church in such a ways that appear odd.
Yesterday we celebrated All Saints Day. It’s an annual occasion for the Church that is observed on the 1st Sunday in November. And maybe it was somewhere between the singing of For All the Saints and the reading of the names of those in our congregation who died this past year that it occurred to me just how odd our worship service was. For church people it might have felt normal. But for those worried about being “relevant,” it was very strange.
You see, the “relevant” thing to do is live for today. It’s relevant to live by the motto Carpe Diem (“Seize the Day”). We’re not guaranteed tomorrow so today is all we have. It’s also relevant to put the past behind us. No one likes to live in the past. It’s good to move on with life. Remembering the past has a way of sucking the fun out of the present. It’s also relevant to think we can avoid death at any cost. Surely there’s a pill we can take, a diet we can try, a deal we can make to ensure we’ll live forever. Death is definitely not a relevant topic.
And yet on this day every year the Church gathers to be as irrelevant as we can be. We claim that remembering the past is a major part of what it means to be Christian. We talk about today, but only in terms of how our past and futures informs it. No one is “seizing the day” because Christ did that in his death and resurrection. On All Saints Day we remember we are powerless in the face of death but for the grace and resurrection power of God. And we sing sad songs that remind us of our loss but also affirm us of a hope that’s greater than our loss. Once a year we gather as a community, open old wounds, remember the past, and sing about a triumphant future when God will wipe away all tears and we feast at heavenly banquets together. Surely none of these would be classified as “relevant.”
To be this irrelevant, you have to get up early on Sunday mornings, get dressed, and go find a place that dares to occasionally be irrelevant by singing strange songs, doing weird actions like sitting and standing and bowing, and hear strange messages about death and life that you can’t find anywhere else in the “relevant” world.
To be this irrelevant, you’ve got to go find, well, a church.
For All the Saints
- For all the saints, who from their labours rest,
- Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
- Thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
- Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well fought fight;
- Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- O blest communion, fellowship divine!
- We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
- All are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- O may Thy soldiers, faithful, true and bold,
- Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
- And win with them the victor’s crown of gold.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
- Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
- And hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- The golden evening brightens in the west;
- Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
- Sweet is the calm of paradise the blessed.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
- The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
- The King of glory passes on His way.
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
- From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
- Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
- And singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost:
- Alleluia, Alleluia!
3 Years and We’re Blogging Along…
I guess I’m a nostalgic sap sometimes – I can admit that. It’s been 3 years since I began the task of blogging through Covered in the Master’s Dust. What began as a way to process thoughts while in the midst of a seminary education has become the primary medium whereby I try to speak to a variety of audiences. The site has become a place to collect my published works as well as experiment in my writing. It’s also been a tremendous source of communication for church members. I can’t count how many times I’ve had deep conversations on faith with church members based on something from this blog. I’m eternally grateful for those holy moments.
As active readers know, I have a tendency to stay with a topic for multiple posts. For the readers who have stuck in there with me, thank you for your patience. I know how I feel when I hear (or read) someone harping on an issue ad nauseaum. I hope I have exercised the grace of “enough is enough” more times than not. But whether the posts were on topics such as discipleship, evangelism, church decline, or the faith of young adults, folks have interacted with this site in ways that I could never have imagined. I always appreciate good comments and especially good critique.
One of my favorite comments to recieve is how this site helps others find inspiration to write. I think pastors should keep an active blog because it makes us disciplined writers and better thinkers. If you can weave thoughts in writing into some coherent movement, begin with a good hook, and end with a solid ending, then it can only help your preaching. I was inspired to blog by other bloggers and I’m always thrilled to know that my blog has helped another pastor get into the habit.
Below I’m posting the “Top 10 posts” from the blog over the last 3 years. These posts got the most traffic of any of my posts and I wanted to give readers a chance to engage with them again. I haven’t edited any of them so I hope you’ll notice that my writing has improved some over these 3 years. Some of these surprised me because I never thought they would get the traffic they got. Others not on the list surprised me because I felt they were examples of some of my better writing and yet never got the notice other posts got. Go figure.
Top 10 Posts All-Tme
- The Real Meaning of Matthew 25:31-46
- General Conference and Coming Clean About Taboo Topics
- 10 Things Christians Need to Remember This Election Season
- Women’s Witness to the Gospel
- Why You Can’t Solve Your Church’s “Young Adult Problem”
- It’s Not About You, It’s About Jesus AND the Church
- Says Who? The Problem With Claiming Biblical Authority
- Discipleship and the Problem of American Individualism
- Fundamentalism: My Way or the Highway
- Lessons on Being a Young Adult Clergy in the UMC
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