swamped

This is the point in the semester when life really begins to overwhelm. Midterms are fast approaching. The wedding is only 5.5 months away. Taxes are due, along with financial aid information. Student council is trying to do a bread for the world letter writing campaign. The list goes on and on. It is in times like these that I need sabbath practices. I don't mean this in the sense that I need to find time to be lazy. When life gets this way, it is completely important to remember, as Walter Brueggemann points out in his commentary on Genesis, that the world is God's and its turning or survival does not solely rely on our activity. If God is confident enough in the world's order to rest, then we can certainly do the same. Now, we certainly are given responsibility for the well-being of the world, so taking all our time for rest is not what we were created for. Still, know that we are loved for the simple fact that we are human. What we do and how we act matters. In fact, we are acting the most like humans when we fulfill our responsibilities to each other. Yet, this does not merit love, or singularly define us as human. Work is only part of the definition.

I think to years ago when I was in the practice of meditating as I watched water collect on leaves after rain. I know, weird hippie, right? Anyway, the centering thought that I used was that the water and the plant are not doing anything to earn their status as part of creation, not doing anything to earn God's favor, not doing anything to be anymore beautiful than they already are. Simply by existing, they are doing their job. The natural life of a plant and of rain is all it needs to do. By being, they are fulfilling their responsibility to the world. We are called to this sort of rest. The kind of rest that honors our being. As humans, we are also called back again after the rest into the responsibilities of our vocation. God has given the world into our care, so we can't alway rest.

listening across lines of faith

The argument for faith is spectacularly personal. People on the outside easily attack this, calling it delusional thinking or brainwashing. We want to fit in, so we do whatever we need to. Yet, it is my experience that community is the only argument for faith. It is in community that faith grows and in community that we meet God who is, Godself, community. Being drawn into faith is never a matter of considering facts, but is born out of what I will call seduction. Participation in the body of Christ is seductive. One is drawn into faith if that one’s participation in the body resonates with that person. It is not the stuff of rationality. The theologian Peter Rollins describes this paradigm of faith in his book How (Not) to Speak of God. He likens it to family life. We are first born into a family and are accepted (hopefully). Thus, we first belong. We then start to imitate the behavioral patterns as displayed by the family, so we behave in a similar fashion. Finally, it may be the case that some of us begin to pick up the beliefs of our parents. This is the point where orthodoxy finally arrives. In the end we believe. It is the same with faith. People of faith first belong, then behave, and finally believe. The page number escapes me right now and I do not own the book.

In terms of how I would handle a situation in which I came into discussion about faith with an atheist, I think the encounter would be rather dialogic. I actually relate quite well to atheists. I have many of the same problems with faith that I hear from many of my atheist friends. Faith really makes little sense to me, yet I am compelled to believe. My biggest problem with religion in general is with the violence that has been and is wrought in the name of God. Yet, I see definite redemption in the great good that has been performed in the name of God. The backbone of nearly every successful movement toward justice and ultimate reconciliation has been faith. I firmly hold that religion is a greater instrument for social good than it is for social evil. It is more than the first way we tried to make sense of the world as Hitchens suggested. It changes the very order of the world. Further, like Wilson and Hitchens’ dialogue, my own would not have the final aim of conversion, but of understanding, of broadening worldviews and, perhaps, of changing my own perspectives in light of what I learn from my sister or brother. We must listen to the complaints of atheism and take seriously the cries of people who are affected by our faith as we live it in a very public and shared world.

a passage from an essay

Much like the God that Christians and Jewish people witness to in the Torah, I am learning quite a lot about living in relationship. Through some rather difficult lessons in Genesis’ first eleven chapters, our God learns that to be in relationship, to truly know and love the other in all her or his humanity, costs. God is hurt time and time again. First, by Her new creation’s disobedience, then by a rift in brotherly love, then by the violence of all humanity, then by God’s own reaction to that violence, and finally by humanity’s desire to displace their trust in God and put it in their own self-made security.

Relationships grounded in reality, in freedom, and in love involve suffering. This is compassion, the fertile soil from which relationships sprout. The fruit of these relationships between God and humanity, sisters and brothers within humanity, and between humanity and all of creation is discipleship. Since God, Godself, is relationship and each one of us finds our own identity in relationship it simply follows that discipleship’s own genesis is in the experience of knowing God and the other.

Ultimately, the incarnation, human experience of Jesus, and His own execution at the hands of the Empire and religious authorities exemplify most poignantly God’s compassionate relationship with humanity. God’s experience, in a very real way, is the human experience. The flesh and blood, incarnational ministry of Jesus, the God who suffers, is the example that we disciples in ministry are called to follow here in this time and place.

Ministry, now more than ever, must be intentionally incarnational and relational. Our context is marked by depersonalization, dehumanization, and systemic violence. People complain of community breakdown, nations ignore their own sick and poor while indiscriminately killing thousands for the sake of “security,” and churches and communities built solely upon common affinity diminish the suffering of relationships that opens the doors to compassion.

It is no longer effective or even an appropriate expression of discipleship and mission to simply invite a friend to church on rally Sunday. Mission cannot be contained by church walls or convincing others to align their worldviews and intellectual understanding of God with our own. No, the Church must meet people where they are and truly come to know the other in all of her or his humanity. Jesus did the same in eating with tax collectors and sinners. In the aftermath of Christendom, the Church has the opportunity to re-form itself in dialogue, to be honest about hypocrisy and failure, to be more fully human. Moreover, now is a time to participate in God’s re-creational work.

This relational understanding does not diminish the political task of the Church. As long as there is economic injustice, violence, and oppression, and as long as everyone the world over participates in these ills (either by direct involvement or complicity), the task of the Christian Church is necessarily political. Christians either supports the status quo or challenges the oppression of that same status quo. A church that takes seriously the call to discipleship will be intentional about its political task and will work for justice against the oppressive powers and principalities of the status quo set against God. This occurs both in relational acts of charity that truly get to know the other who is negatively affected by the powers and principalities in the world, and in works of advocacy and justice. Practically, the political task of the church must begin in local communities. The challenge of the pastor is to help the other disciples see how larger systems are at work within their own community. This personalizes oppression and is the only way to invite the congregation to the works of charity and justice to which we are called.

Justification by Coma (Dr. Sundberg)

In light of the distance between this post and the last, I will briefly summarize life in the last few months. Busy.

Last semester ended well. I enjoyed and did well in my classes. Christmas break was very relaxing. I'm sure I saw many of you. There was some drama around the reception hall for Pippi and my wedding. It went bankrupt and we lost our $600 deposit. But we found a new, less expensive place and will be getting hitched on Friday August 13. Friday the 13th. Spooky. Then I took a class for J term in Chicago called the Dimensions and Dynamics of Urban Ministry. We dealt with the pastor's role as prophet, and confronting violence, economic injustice, and racism with the gospel. Through that class I really came to understand how deep my passion is for ministry in the city. I feel so called to see the world and theology from the bottom up and to minister from this place. I got the incredible honor of meeting the kind and intelligent Jeremiah Wright and Father Pflager. If you don't know who they are, google the names, they are two prophets worth knowing.

After the class, I basically watched horror movies for three weeks and got ready for the semester by reading and taking care of administrative stuff. Recently, I was nominated for the FTE's Ministry Fellowship. I am pretty excited about that and will let you know how it goes.

Now I am taking Systematic Theology: Creation and the Triune God, Reformation History, Galatians and Thessalonians, and Pentateuch. A full load, but a fun one. I was going to talk about a new meaning for faith and salvation in our changing world, but I am tired, I'll do this soon.

seduced

I can feel my brain being spun into goo in these last few days before Thanksgiving break. Fortunately, school has slowed down somewhat. Professors are smart people and realize that we are not at all present when a break is this close. Besides the molasses brain, this week has been pretty great. Peter and I have been talking a lot about experience and how our noses stuck inside books all the time is important but it does not make us very engaging people. Experience was the name of the game this week, and I have had quite a few meaningful ones. I made a connection with a progressive pastor last Sunday during phonathon. We'll hopefully be getting together to gush about Borg and revel in inclusivity and wide and deep grace and liberation against the grain of ultra rigid confessionalism and cheap grace when he comes for a kairos conference in December (plus he donated $50 which is a plus. ) I've spent long hours in conversation with LSS about our partnership and have been working hard on the giving tree program. Pip and I had a date, and I spent more time than ever getting to know other students during dinner. And wouldn't you know it, I have actually stayed up to date with school work. I am finally beginning to be able to balance school and still live like a real person.

Perhaps the most amazing experience I had all week was at church today. At the FTE conference on economic justice in June, my Episcopal friend told me the story of a friend of his who had recently become Episcopal. He spoke of how his friend originally hated saying the creed and the other parts of the liturgy during church because he didn't whole heartedly believe it. He felt as though he was lying. But in following months he came to find the liturgy to be very moving and even central to his faith. In a conversation over coffee he told my friend from the conference that he had been "seduced" by the liturgy. Though, he still did not believe factually in everything that the creed and liturgy said, the words became a part of his faith-a part of his being. Participation in the practices where we meet God propels us into God's activity in the world. God, that tricky coyote (read Asphalt Jesus by Eric Elnes), seduces us, causes us to fall in love with God and with meeting God through participation. This was made so clear to me at church today. The actual service at Jacob's Well was fine and dandy, a surprisingly normal stewardship service, but after the worship time we stuck around. Our conversations with people after the service made us feel more a part of that community than we ever have before. God began to seduce us into God's fold at JW. Then I went to Swahili church where my close friend Pastor Herb Hafferman was delivering the maneno. Hearing the service in Swahili and taking communion in the name of Baba yetu, na Bwana Yesu, na Roho Mtakatifu drew me into a place where I haven't been for a year. I experienced church and God so profoundly though that experience, and so did Peter and Steve. We hope to make it back to Swahili church once every month now. God is one fine seductress.

dawning activism.

Some updates on the happenings here at Luther: Part of my involvement in student council here is to commit to forming and being active in a committee. The committee are essentially campus groups engaged in specific work aimed at benefiting the campus and the community. So a few of us students decided to start the Community Connection Team, committed to service and justice in the Twin Cities. There is a really great core of people involved and we already have drawn up plans for campus wide engagement in issues of poverty. We are coordinating a "mitten tree" with Lutheran Social Services. So, if you are reading this and you are in the area, please stop by and pick up a couple requests for items to donate to LSS! My hope for this group is that we become more and more deeply involved in working against poverty. You know, perhaps the most disappointing thing for me in coming to seminary was what I perceived to be a lack of concern for social justice. There is a rich tradition of justice in Lutheranism (see Bonhoeffer) but I fear that we grace ourselves into complacency and acceptance of our roles in oppressive systems. Grace is important but we must remember that we are freed to be slaves to each other (see Luther's Freedom of a Christian and the uses of the Law). Great, we are saved by grace through faith, now what. Do we only believe because we get to go to heaven or are we captivated by the invitation to live differently than the world, to say no to oppression and fear and certainty and yes to justice and love and faith. The central question here is one that I struggle with on a daily basis: Why Christian? So I am very excited about this new development on campus.

Outside of this, the semester is winding down and that means work. Glorious, glorious work. Fortunately, my job at the phonathon is going to end next week, just in time to focus on the finals. Woo!

all souls day

Today, the day after all saints day, is the Roman Catholic holy day called all souls day. What an appropriate week in my own life. Wednesday saw the passing of the father of my best friend and the loss has rested deep in our community. This day takes on special significance right now in light of this recent tragedy.

The experiential emphasis in our religious experience is especially pertinent for me right now. The experience of the presence of the oppression of death is the one final common human factor. We all die. Unfortunately, we are united in death. Fortunately, in our frailty we meet Christ who has had his share of death.

The unity with Christ and the Christian community has been made especially clear in the last week. The support that Luther extends speaks greatly of the seminary as a Christian community. As a church goer recently said when I interviewed him for a class, "We do death well."

I am about to leave for my friend's father's funeral, thus the short and jumbled entry. I will write again soon.

Tim