What is Christian Hospitality?

What is Christian Hospitality? Brian D. McLaren, a veteran Pastor, explores the subject in Newsweek's "On Faith" Blog.
Check out an excerpt below:
Sally Qunn's tribute to Tim Russert, and in particular the story of her choosing to take the eucharist at Tim's Catholic funeral, reminded me of so many stories I've heard through the years ... stories of sincere people with little or no religious commitment, meeting someone like Tim Russert whose faith was real and winsome, and through them being drawn closer to God, or at least to the possibility of searching for God.
Sadly, some of the responses to her story also reminded me of these stories, because very often, when people began reaching toward God, they would naturally seek out a church. But what they often met in the church was disdain, rejection, critique, exclusion, judgment, and other less-than-hospitable treatment. No doubt, the people who "welcomed" them this way thought they were doing the right thing, and perhaps they were from some vantage point. [snip]
In my book "A Search for What is Real" (Zondervan, 2007), I wrote a chapter that could be helpful to both the insiders and outsiders. It was called "Why Is Church the Last Place I Think of for Help in My Spiritual Search?" I talked about three types of churches.
First, there are Type 1 or "finders only" churches - and these are represented by the most critical responses to Sally's story.
Second, there are Type 2 or "seekers only" churches, which "attract the kind of people who are turned off by ... Type 1 dogmatism." These faith communities welcome everyone, but they become less hospitable the clearer and deeper a person's spiritual commitments and experiences become.
I end up highlighting the need for more Type 3 or "seeker-finder" faith communities, groups which take on the dynamic challenge of being highly welcoming to seekers and skeptics, while having high levels of commitment and deep reservoirs of theology in their core members.

When Doubt is a Good Thing

As a Pastor I've preached lots of sermons on the idea that it is okay to doubt. Usually the sermons come on the Sunday after Easter, when the church hears about how one of the disciples, Thomas, doubted the Resurrection of Jesus and (the risen) Jesus handles his doubts with compassion.

Until yesterday, though, I never thought how important doubt can be to one's own sense of well-being, until I heard a radio interview with Shalom Auslander on the program Fresh Air. I've heard Auslander before, on my favorite radio program This American Life, and I found him, like most of the contributers, to be insightful and funny. Until now, though, I had no idea that there was a darker side to his Ultra-Orthodox Jewish upbringing.

Auslander grew up in a disfunctional family with an angry dad, and in his heart of hearts is an image of God very much like his own dad--a mean bully. Years of therapy, cutting himself off from his family, and extensive study of religion have not budged his conviction that God is real, and also a meanie who is out to get him if he disobeys a long list of ridiculous laws that are impossible to obey perfectly and that he has therefore abandoned. If you've ever wondered why people hate religion and find it to be oppressive and evil, Shalom Auslander is Exhibit A. He wants to have doubts, he behaves like a person who has far more doubt than faith, but the fact is that he has never had a single real moment of doubting.

So, what is the solution? The Soviet Union outlawed religion and it just went underground. Today the Russian Orthodox church has regained its stutus in Russian culture. And, on a deeper level, the Soviet society never did away with the oppressive aspects of religion that folks like Auslander condemn. On a recent trip to Russia, we brought back Soviet propoganda that could have been written by Jerry Fallwell. It focused on the importance of avoiding strong drink, tobacco, and extramarital sex, and on taking care of your kids and working hard without expecting any reward except solidarity with comrades. I don't think I have to tell you how successful this propaganda was in reducing the Russian appetite for pleasures of the flesh. If anything, the lurid way it depicted these excesses may have given them the extra thrill of forbidden fruit for some citizens.

When it comes to religion and morality, there's the soft sell, the hard sell and then there is indoctrination. The United Church of Christ, my denomination, is dominated by churches that practice the soft sell and emphasize the postives of living a moral life--like, you don't have to keep your lies straight if you don't tell any! Soviet propaganda represents the hard sell. What Shalom Auslander experienced was indoctrination, and it led him to the opposite extreme of behavior after he left his home and school, because he had yet to develop a moral compass based on personal integrity.

I am personally morally opposed to participating in indoctrination, but according to how our US Constitution is currently interpreted, religious indoctrination of the kind Shalom Auslander experienced as a young child is perfectly legal. In a recent court case, the leader of a small sect in Utah was convicted and sent to prison for indoctrinating an underage girl that she must marry her cousin and submit to having sex with him. Most indoctrinated children are not encouraged to break the law or to submit to becoming a victim of a crime, however, so prosecution will do little to ease the pain of people like Shalom Auslander.

I think the question is, do those of us who find comfort and joy in religious faith owe some kind of moral debt to those like Auslander whose lives are shattered by religious indoctrination? Auslander resents people like me, what he would call religious moderates. He believes that people like me make it possible for groups like Al Queda to perpetrate unspeakable crimes against humanity in the name of religion simply because we lend legitimacy to religion. I don't agree with him, but how do I reach out and try to help someone who thinks I'm perpetuating evil just because I like to pray, read the Bible, sing hymns and eat suppers with others who like the same things? It's kind of hard to blame the guy for seeing things in black/white, either/or terms, given his first eighteen years of life, but I'm not going to be able to see things the way he does, so how do we bridge the gap?

Praying for the Earth

Many religions teach that God created the earth and charged people with its care. We don't always take this job seriously, even though most people love nature and depend on spending time surrounded by the beauty of nature to feel fully human and fully alive.

Our ancestors used to celebrate the gift of creation during the times that the seasons changed. It is good to pause to give thanks for what we have been given, and to re-commit to being good stewards of the created world. This is what Earth Prayers is all about. Not everyone loves "church"--the traditional hymns, the organ music, sermons--but almost everyone loves the beauty of nature.


We are very blessed to be able to inaugurate our "Earth Prayers" with the music of Jim Cole. Jim is himself a deeply spiritual person whose harmonic overtones singing strikes deep chords in those who are fortunate to hear it. After the music, there will be a chance to walk a sacred path on a Labyrinth. Whether you are a religious person who regularly attends a Church, Synagogue, Mosque or other house of worship, or the kind of person whose preferred method of connecting with your spiritual side involves a long walk in the woods, I hope you will join us for Earth Prayers.


Visit us at www.rivertonchurch.org.

Warming Up

Our congregation has been dealing with deferred maintenance on the building lately. No sooner had we finished replacing an ailing roof than we got the word from the company that serviced our furnace that its days were numbers. Sure enough, less than a year later, the furnace, which had outlived its normal lifespan by decades, blew off the fire door and then died altogether. We were too busy arranging to have the furnace replaced to even ask the "why us, why this, why now?" questions.

Less than a month later, we have installed a more efficient propane heater. We will be saving energy, money, and the environment with this cleaner-burning system. Of course, the furnace did have a cost: $8,000, to be exact. We hadn't quite finished paying off the roof, and then the new furnace doubled our debt. But before we spent too much time wondering "How are we going to pay for this?" donations from friends of the church began pouring in. A woman who had temporarily come into a large amount of liquid cash sent us a large donation. Another friend of the church heard about our plight through the grapevine and also sent a donation. We are not in the clear yet, but this new furnace isn't just warming bodies, it is also warming hearts.

Visit us at www.rivertonchurch.org.

Attack of the Cranky Athiests

Another day, another cranky athiest. Christopher Hitchens, who is apparently a respected journalist, has published a book called God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything.

Here's what he has to say about his friends who are religious, as excerpted in Slate online magazine.

Religious faith is, precisely because we are still-evolving creatures, ineradicable. It will never die out, or at least not until we get over our fear of death, and of the dark, and of the unknown, and of each other. For this reason, I would not prohibit it even if I thought I could. Very generous of me, you may say. But will the religious grant me the same indulgence? I ask because there is a real and serious difference between me and my religious friends, and the real and serious friends are sufficiently honest to admit it. I would be quite content to go to their children's bar mitzvahs, to marvel at their Gothic cathedrals, to "respect" their belief that the Koran was dictated, though exclusively in Arabic, to an illiterate merchant, or to interest myself in Wicca and Hindu and Jain consolations. And as it happens, I will continue to do this without insisting on the polite reciprocal condition—which is that they in turn leave me alone. But this, religion is ultimately incapable of doing. As I write these words, and as you read them, people of faith are in their different ways planning your and my destruction, and the destruction of all the hard-won human attainments that I have touched upon. Religion poisons everything.

I would say somebody needs a hug, but I think he's past the point where a hug will help.

Check this out, though: he says he just wants his religious friends to leave him alone. Maybe he needs some new friends? Cause, like, I don't remember ever getting in the face of my atheist friends, and I have plenty of them. And I don't EVER remember accusing Atheists of "Plotting...the destruction of all the hard-won human attainments..."

Maybe I shouldn't take this personally, but it's kind of hard not to, because he is lumping me in with, like, suicide bombers.

Why do people do this--educated people who know which fork they are supposed to use for the main course and which one for salad at a formal dinner, I mean?

Well, I'm guessing Mr. Hitchens is really frustrated with a lot of bad things going on in the world. I don't blame him for that. And I don't blame him for wanting something or someone to blame. I'd kind of like to be able to blame the Soviets, or the Devil, or whatever. But the Soviets had to go and self-destruct on me, and I've found that there is some good and some evil in everyone, so blaming stuff on the Devil doesn't really give me much satisfaction. Bad stuff happens, and I'll be the first one to admit that the world's religions have not come up with a perfect, all-encompassing explanation for the problem of evil. I guess it could be because, as a religious person, I am in fact the answer to the question "What is the cause of the problem of evil?" but I don't really think so.

I guess in Mr. Hitchen's mind, religion is about answering the big questions, and he's right. But not all religious people think that religion has the answers to the big questions. I sure don't. I guess religion that claims to have all the answers has a lot of appeal in uncertain, scary times like ours. It doesn't have any appeal for me. It makes me really sad to see so many people settle for easy (if imperfect) answers to what the Garrison Keillor charactor Guy Noir calls "life's persistent questions," but right now I'm not in an angry place about that. If it wasn't religion claiming to have the answers it would be (and in many cases is) political parties or multinational corporations or Think Tanks or some other institutions. Institutions are run by and for humans, and like the humans that create them, they are flawed. This includes the institution of journalism, I'm sorry to tell poor Mr. Hitchens.

I do feel that it is important to wrestle with the big questions, to wrestle with them together in a like-hearted community with a spirit of compassion, because none of us has all the answers. That is what religion is about for me, and for a lot of other people too.

Fairness

When I was a teenager, a group called the Boomtown Rats sang a song called, "I Don't Like Mondays" about a girl who went on a shooting rampage. When they asked her why she did it, she said, "I don't like Mondays." In the song, the Boomtown Rats sang, "They can see no reasons 'cause there are no reasons." And so it is with another shooting incident on another Monday many years hence.

We can see no reason that a student at Virginia Tech shot dozens of innocent people before turning the gun on himself. I myself had a pleasant day and heard nothing about the tragedy for hours. "It's not fair," my kids say when confronted with something they don't like. They say "it's not fair" when they have to go to bed on time, or when someone is driving recklessly on the highway or for what seems like a million other reasons. They're right. Life isn't fair. Sometimes circumstances drive this fact home with great force.

Because the killings are close to home--not in our backyard, maybe, but in a place like the place where we live. Because the brutality was unexpected--this was a quiet corner of the world.

Because the victims and the perpetrator seemed to have everything to live for--all were in the prime of their lives, and seemed destined for future success.

Because it might have been prevented, if the alarm was sounded earlier, or if previous cries for help by the perpetrator had been heeded.

Life isn't fair. I've presided at the funerals of young people like these young victims, cut down tragically in the prime of their lives. What do you say to their families? There is nothing to say except "I don't know what to say." Some things go beyond words. Sometimes all we can do is be present with those who suffer, and maybe after a while they will see that, in the words of the gospel according to John, "The light still shines into the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

Reflections on Palm Sunday

A cynical person might say that Palm Sunday doesn’t matter in the grand scheme because less than a week later, Jesus dies. A hopeful person might say that Palm Sunday does matter because a week later Jesus is alive, and Palm Sunday is a sign that those who celebrate and Bless Jesus are right. There are two ways you can look at the incident in the Bible we now celebrate on Palm Sunday—you can see it as the beginning of the end, or as the end of the beginning. It is the last time, at least according to the Bible, that Jesus is treated like a hero prior to his persecution and death. But it is also the beginning of a religious celebration we observe 2000 years later.

Last week, sometime between our church service on Sunday and Monday morning, our church furnace quit. It had had a long, hardworking life and it was the furnace’s time. You could say the timing was bad—it has made for a cold Palm Sunday. On the other hand, it could have been far worse—it could have quit during a week when the weather plunged to near zero at night, leaving the congregation with a dilemma about how to keep the pipes from freezing. Instead, the furnace brought us through another winter. The new furnace will probably be much more efficient, meaning we will spend somewhat less per gallon of oil to heat the building.
It seems like it has been one thing after another because maintenance of this building has been deferred for a very long time. This congregation has been through a lot over the years. In some ways this time is easy—when a furnace breaks, we know how to fix it. When conflicts between members arise and relationships break, it can be much more complicated to try and fix that.

It has been my practice in life to try and take the blessing in every good experience, and look for the lesson in every bad experience. On the Palm Sundays of my life, I have tried to go with the flow, soak it all in and stored it up in my memory banks, but too often, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and ruin the good times. After the Good Fridays of my own life, I have looked to find lessons, hoping I can make changes and prevent things from getting so bad again. In all of this something has been lacking. I didn’t know what until I received my star gift in January. Star gifts, for those of you who don't know about them, are little paper stars with a word on them passed out on the first Sunday of the new year. The word is your gift for the year, a word that will serve as the basis of meditation in the coming year. My gift for 2007 is "hope." Too often, I don’t give hope much of a chance. I certainly don’t lead with hope, and I don’t like it when people try to get me to do it. Sometimes hope dawns, as it did for the followers of Jesus on Easter morning. But I don’t do very well at making hope my default mode, my starting place. That’s too bad, because when I get to the place of hope, I’m pretty good at it. I get inspired. I inspire others.

Today, on this chilly Palm Sunday, God is calling us to lead with our hopes and not with our fears.

We all know hope can seem misplaced, and even silly. We know that if we’ve ever seen American Idol auditions. But the hope of 16-year-olds who’ve decided to try and be a star this week is a far different thing from the collective hope of this congregation, which has gone through so much and endured so much and accomplished so much. If we don’t try, we don’t ever fail, but we don’t ever succeed, either. So this Palm Sunday, I’ve decided to lead with hope. I’ve decided to lead with hope because Palm Sunday is about hope. Even though the week that begins with Palm Sunday ends with Good Friday, the following week begins with Easter. I hope you will decide to lead with your hope as well today and every day.

Jesus Buried With Wife and Kid?

That's the idea at the center of a forthcoming documentary directed by James Cameron of Titanic fame.

CNN reports that,

"The Lost Tomb of Christ," which the Discovery Channel will run on March 4, argues that 10 ancient ossuaries -- small caskets used to store bones -- discovered in a suburb of Jerusalem in 1980 may have contained the bones of Jesus and his family, according to a press release issued by the Discovery Channel.

Archeologists and Biblical Scholars, for the most part, are scoffing at the film's sensationalistic claims. The CNN story continues,

Stephen Pfann, a biblical scholar at the University of the Holy Land in Jerusalem who was interviewed in the documentary, said the film's hypothesis holds little weight.
"I don't think that Christians are going to buy into this," Pfann said. "But skeptics, in general, would like to see something that pokes holes into the story that so many people hold dear."
"How possible is it?" Pfann said. "On a scale of one through 10 -- 10 being completely possible -- it's probably a one, maybe a one and a half."
Pfann is even unsure that the name "Jesus" on the caskets was read correctly. He thinks it's more likely the name "Hanun."
Kloner also said the filmmakers' assertions are false.
"It was an ordinary middle-class Jerusalem burial cave," Kloner said. "The names on the caskets are the most common names found among Jews at the time."

Those of us over forty have lived through several of these sensationalistic media blitzes, designed to provide their originators with fame, quick cash, or (usually) both. Since Cameron lacks for neither fame nor money (as far as I know), it is possible that his motives are pure, even if his theory is unlikely to win over many people.

Though this story of Jesus being buried with the wife and kid is likely not true (and lacks the probability of being proved true even if it is), it begs the question of, "What if?" What if Jesus did not die and later resurrect? What if he somehow managed to slink out of the limelight and settle in the suburbs with a wife (Mary Magdelene) and have a kid before dying of natural causes? What if the whole persecution and execution of Jesus never happened? Would this, as some claim, drive a stake into the heart of Christianity, causing the religion to disintegrate?

Christians are of two minds about this. In the book The Meaning of Jesus: Two Visions, liberal Biblical scholar Marcus Borg and conservative Biblical scholar N.T. Wright attempt to demonstrate that it is possible to bridge the gap between those (like Wright) who feel that the Bible is literally true and those (like Borg) who feel that while much that the Bible records did not literally happen, Christianity is still a viable religion. Wright and Borg are friends who have agreed to disagree and who feel that their individual faith journeys have been enriched by their ongoing dialogue. I've never met N.T. Wright but I did spend several days at a conference where Marcus Borg was a keynote speaker. At one point, Borg related a story about a joint interview he and Wright did. The interviewer posed the "what if" at the heart of Cameron's new documentary--what if the bones of Jesus were found, and were proved to be real by DNA testing, thus demonstrating that the resurrection didn't happen (or at least didn't happen exactly as described in the Bible, with Jesus ultimately ascending into heaven afterwards.) Borg was startled and even shocked to hear Wright say that under such circumstances he would find himself another line of work, because Borg's gut response was, essentially, so what? As I seem to recall (and I may be wrong about this part of the story), both men were surprised by the response of the other.

I can sympathize with both men, with Borg's feeling of, "How can you care about that?" and Wright's feeling, "How can you not care?" The fact is, the Christian Church is a big tent. It contains both of these varieties of Christians and many who are somewhere in-between these two extremes. For some of us, this is okay and maybe even a plus. Others would like to either find a way to bring the others to an experience of conversion to their point of view, or failing that, root out those who disagree with them. My denomination, the United Church of Christ, is famously "liberal." Each member of the church is bound by their own conscience, nothing more and nothing less. This is true when it comes to matters of faith, such as the truth and significance of the resurrection.

Though we Christians don't talk about it much, the church is always potentially one generation away from extinction. While the Christian faith is still is gaining converts worldwide, many have fallen away from the church, either switching to some other religion such as Islam, or becoming the kind of Agnostics who spend their Sunday mornings sleeping late and doing crossword puzzles. I doubt there is a "magic bullet" that can destroy Christianity, although infighting between Christian "liberals" and "conservatives" generates more heat than light. Ultimately, though, the real enemy of any religion is indifference.

Read about the UCC concept of Christian faith at http://www.ucc.org/faith/index.html

Visit us at www.rivertonchurch.org.

Intentional Butterfly

I just discovered this new site, Intentional Butterfly. It is part of Innerlinks, a site that enables you to use virtual angel and mentor cards (Innerlinks requires registration but Intentional Butterfly does not.)

The Intentional Butterfly site introduces itself by saying,

You are important.

Your thoughts create.

Your actions matter.

Your presence changes everything.

Be an Intentional Butterfly,
a participant in the ripple effect of caring.

The features include a virtual sanctuary that invites you to make a blessing, an invitation to join the Intentional Butterfly circle (it is so new that they are inviting participants to help define the implications of that membership), a b-board, and an invitation to submit inspiring stories, etc. for their online library.

I have been using the Innerlinks angel cards for years and have always gotten a good vibe from the organization. You might like to at least check it out.