God, Authority, Leadership, Church, the Future.... simple thoughts

My mind wanders as I listen to the News... let's face it, sometimes it has to protect itself.

    (fear not, I'm not about to start singing "My Inner Ninja"... although you probably are, now)

In Toronto right now, we apparently have a Mayor who is a Crack Head, a Gun Runner, a Bully, an Imbecile, a Liar, OR a Victim of nasty politics and media, a Diabetic, a Man in over his head and the Unluckiest son of a gun in the world. 

Might be any one of the above, a combination… or none of the above and it’s all been done with mirrors.  Ta-DA!!!  (Worst magic trick ever!)  

Regardless of what delights you put on your Rob Ford Buffet Plate… (ooh, a nice big helping of nasty media, a little bit of un-lucky…. And.... Hey, how did that crack get on the plate??)… most of us have lost faith in our Mayor.

Provincially, I hear a great many people opine that our Premier is a fantastic, intelligent leader with great integrity… but they also say quickly, that she’s burdened by a government with too many scandals, missteps and errors in judgment.  The alternatives for Premier are also suspect as we are invited to go forward to the 1700s or build our future homes in Cloud Cuckoo Land  (not necessarily what I’m saying, just what I’m hearing… and also a chance to once again use my vast Classical Studies background for an arcane Aristophanes allusion).   In short, we have lost faith in our Provincial leaders…

AND you do not want me to start on our Federal leaders.  Petty, small minded, corrupt, obfuscating, arrogant, entitled, dismissive and claiming to live in PEI.  (To be fair, most of the descriptors apply to most of our leaders… not all and all).  We have lost faith in our Federal leaders.

We have lost faith in our business leaders… as they reap profits while cutting jobs and imagining that a vibrant economy is one in which investors make money while workers become a fixed cost of doing business… not a part or partner in success.  

We don’t trust ‘em.

AND hardly any of us gather around the TV to listen to Coach’s Corner any more…

We don’t trust leaders.

We are suspect of authority….  Actually, we don’t recognize it any more.

Tough time to be a church. 
An institution that talks about authority all the time:  Authority of Scripture:  We read from a big book together on Sundays; Authority of professional leadership:  We sit (often quietly) while somebody in a big dress lectures us for 20 minutes (your experience may vary); Authority of values:  Thou SHALT not kill; and Authority of God:  We are not alone, we live in God’s world...

Some would say that Authority is a tough sell today that it might be best for us to stop talking about authority.  After all, we are in a time of the democratization of everything.  No longer does the Encyclopedia have pride of place in the house as an Authority for everything from Argentinian Agriculture to the Zambian Zither... Now, we have Wikipedia, an an authority that changes constantly and can be edited and altered by the user (if enough of us think that the Dodo bird is no longer extinct, we can make it so on Wikipedia).  Hard to sell a Wikipedia used an old set of Encyclopedia Britannica (partly because they are no longer published); even harder to sell them a Bible that they cannot edit and a God who is Immortal, Invisible and Unchanging (see all sorts of hymns... esp. "Immortal, Invisible, God only Wise").

So, do we pack it in?

Accept that we are selling a stock in which nobody has faith?  (wanna trade for some Enron?)

OR

   … might we imagine that in this time when we have lost faith in our leaders and have come to question the very nature of authority, that it might be time to show what real leadership and authority can look like?

What if we are not fed up with, but actually hungry for leadership and authority… and have only rejected the existing supply because they are not deserving of our respect and engagement?  Look how many people are anxious to respond when Justin Beiber recommends a video on YouTube or Fashionistas tell us that Orange is the new Black, 50 the new 40 and Foolishness the new Wisdom?

What if we talked about God, not as Celestial Concierge; Divine Doge or Eternal Evaluator, but rather as that which has Authority in our lives…. That which creates and continues to create within our lives, that which gives us identity, that which partners with us in our struggles and hopes, that which inspires us to be whole… you know, like leaders use to do. 

What if we, as church leaders, imagined that our authority came from the people we serve and the God who calls us… that we didn’t imagine that it endowed us with privilege and power, but invited us into relationship?   What if we spoke with integrity, admitted when we made mistakes without trying to win sympathy or be excused because our dogs were mean to us when we were younger?  What if we confidently, yet fearfully, went forward engaging with people, daring to be weak AND strong… not hiding our gifts, but also not imagining them to be the only gifts at the party?  You know, like leaders are supposed to do.

 

I don’t really think that people are done with leaders or authority – I think that they are just fed up with the current stock and are hungry for something better.  Perhaps it is time for the church to set itself apart and show ‘em something else… 

         If not now, when?

Big Screen - Small Return

The Festival of Homilects was held in Nashville last month.  About 2,000 preachers – and nothing says “Festival” like Homiletics!!  (Homiletics is a world of Latin origin, essentially meaning “Preaching”… and by Latin, I mean the language of the Popes, not the music of Ricky Martin)

I attended.  

I drank American Beer (I think... it's kinda hard to tell that it's beer)

I went to the Johnny Cash Museum; the Country Music Hall of Fame.

I went to Hooters for the first time.  (but, all the other ministers were going...)

I went to Church. A lot.  (probably trying to make up for Hooters.)

I was overwhelmed by some remarkable preachers and speakers… but I was also overwhelmed by irritation.  I’m not talking about a rash (my rashes are none of your business) – but by the use of the Big Screen in worship.

So, consider this a rant:  I’m not partial to Big Screens in church!!!

Or, a more Canadian rant:  

   I’m sorry, but I’m not partial to Big Screens in Church… if you don’t mind, eh?

Please understand that I’m not anti-technology.  I have a digital thermometer and a Netflix account!   Actually, I do use Powerpoint and (the vastly better) Prezi for lectures and events; I have never stopped anyone from tweeting during a service – I have set up Hashtags and encouraged tweeting at funerals for young people – I’m not afraid of tech and make an effort to engage where I can. 

BUT you are not likely to find me the church of Big Screen, and I feel the need to tell you why.

(can we let the Hooters thing go now?)

The first reason is that we often do it badly.

I have been witness as the preacher projected a joke on the overhead screen that was funny and had nothing to do with his actual sermon  - I was so taken by the joke that I completely lost track of his words.  At the Festival of Homiletics, I was witness to an expert in the field project yellow words to a hymn on an orange background… none of us could read the words, there wasn't enough contrast.  I have also been witness  to song lyrics projected without any sense of poetry, presentation or ease of understanding.  For example:

Don’t be afraid,

my love is stronger

My love is stronger than your fear.

Don’t be afraid,

my love is stronger

and I have promised,

promised to be always near.

Is preferable to

Don’t be afraid, my love

Is stronger than your

fear

Don’t be afraid, my love

Is stronger and I have

Promised, promised

To be always near.

You kind of think that I’m joking… but you also know that I’m not… my bad experiences number in the hundreds.  We've all see it and it’s terribly distracting.   So are images/slides out of order.

When you think about it, most Big Screen presentations done in church a little more than the Slide Shows of 1970s or the Flannel Graphs of the 1950s.  (oooooohhhhhh.... a slide carousel!!)

Okay, so enough of my being bitchy about it. 

Even when it is done well… I still am not a big fan. 

People’s lives are inundated with screens today.  In elevators, on transit, in cars and vans, on smartphones and tablets.  Maybe, every now and again, it would be nice to have a time and space free of the ubiquitous projection of ideas and content.  One could argue that our contemporary language is one of video screens… and if I had something important to tell people who spoke Gaelic as a first language, I would learn Gaelic  (An bhfuil Gaeilge agat?)   However, I also think the we call our worship room a “Sanctuary” for a variety of reasons… one of which should be a place where we get a break from the world and tyranny and onslaught of images being pushed into our brains).  Seriously, most of what I choose to look at in the real world, are not aglow with inner light, but the more calming reflected light.  (with the exception of pregnant women and the Dalai Lama... who do seem to glow with inner light).  Give my eyes and brain a rest!

Projected images are also at least one step removed from reality.  I would rather have live music than recorded music; I would rather have a potter throw a pot in a service, than see a picture of a potter… images on the screen tend to make me lazy as a preacher/liturgist and not ask a potter to come and share her art with us, because I can get a picture or Youtube video; it tends to encourage me to play pop music instead of supporting and honouring musicians within my community.  Granted my laziness maybe to blame, but I'm not alone..

 

Further,  and it might be just me… but television makes me drowsy and encourages me to turn my mind off.  The opposite of my worship goals.  Somebody’s images projected up on a screen to not tend to spark my imagination or tweak my sense of wonder and awe.  A good story does…  

I come home at night, get comfy and fall asleep in front of the TV.  Do we really want a congregation filled with people, hand in their pants, nodding off…? 

Television is passive and images projected on a screen tend to put me in passive mindset.  (but that might be just me… show me a picture and you might be able to talk me out of it)

Finally – and perhaps most importantly.  Projected images are in control of the worship master.  When I lead worship, I usually provide a bulletin with poems, prayers and images.  It’s in your hand and it’s your property.  You can refer to it during worship as you choose and you can take it away with you when the service is over.  You might read a prayer or consider a picture that I've included in the service… you might share some words or images with another person.  Whatever you decide to do, you have the power.  A prayer projected on a screen doesn't leave with you… it doesn't invite later contemplation. If you want

to share it with another person, you need to go and ask somebody to make you a copy.  It’s not yours – you need someone’s permission to look at it later or share it.  I don’t think that the power dynamic is particularly helpful – but instead is a turn back to a time when the leader/priest/minister/teacher had all the knowledge and would dole it out as he/she felt was appropriate.

So, that’s my rant…

That’s why we don’t have screens at my church.

It might change tomorrow… it might not.

But whatever happens next, it won’t simply be because it’s available… 

                                                                                              (it’ll be because it’s cheap).

I'm Praying for Rob Ford

Things that I think about when I’m doing something else…

Well, I've been doing a lot of something else in the past two weeks (hence the lack of posts) – away in Nashville for a week (you can probably see my accent in my words)  - rushing about getting funerals done, weddings planned and just the usual trying to keep my head above water.

This morning I received a call at the church.  A woman who has not been a member in many years, but used to be.   She called and gave me her bona-fides (in church life that’s usually the names of old friends who are now dead or how great it was when people were forced to go to church)   and then she asked me what I thought about Rob Ford.

I said, “Who?”

  (it was worth a try)

"Well, I was thinking about coming to church and I want to know what you think about Rob Ford."

It was hard to figure out what she wanted to hear… being a minister, I try only to tell people what they want to hear.  Much like Jesus, I’m all for going along to getting along and saying whatever is required to bring out the big bucks.  (wait, that's not Jesus… that’s a hooker).

As I was about to answer, she solved my dilemma by jumping right in:  "I think that it’s terrible what they are doing to him.  It’s bullying pure and simple, they are embarrassing him publicly and there’s no proof of anything and they even made the Catholic School Board fire him as a coach!"

“Well, Ma’m,” I said (still got that Nashville thing going)… “I agree that he’s not being well treated, but I think that he’s had a lot to do with his creating this environment”

I then went through a few points:  

    (numbered hear for easy reference when I'm in court defending against libel and slander)

1. When being sworn in as Mayor he invited Don Cherry to speak and Don made sure to make all of us left wing pinko bike riders feel like losers, as our new Mayor smiled and laughed.   He didn't take my lunch money, but the Mayor and his friend sure did push my bike to the ground and laugh at me.

2. Our Mayor and his brother regularly excoriate their political opponents on their public radio show on Sunday afternoons. Even threatening to “out” those who vote against the Mayor on City Council.  That sure sounds like bullying.

3. In the first year of Mr. Ford's Mayoralty, I was constantly hearing about “Ford Nation” and how I would oppose this juggernaut at my own peril.  Sure felt like bullying to me.

4. The on-going battle with the Toronto Star is embarrassing for all involved, but it was our Mayor who refused to speak with any journalists representing the city’s biggest newspaper, before this all become a dissonant opera. 

5. I’m not so sure that “They” forced the Catholic School Board to do anything.  If the TDCSB could be so easily forced, they’d have a float in next month’s Pride Parade.  As I watched this story unfold over the past few months, it seems to me that Board thanked Mr. Ford for his support in the past, but desired to end the relationship after his voluntary Sun media interview in which he referred to the youth at the school as gang-bangers and the neighborhood as "at risk" – the operating narrative has been that Rob Ford has been this school’s savior.  A great many teachers, parents and a principal who arrived in recent years, take issue with his depiction of the students and neighbourhood and are somewhat disenfranchised with his taking sole credit for the positive changes at the school.

All of that said…  I also told my phone friend that we prayed for our Mayor, Rob Ford, on Sunday at Jubilee.  We prayed because we know that he’s hurting.   If there is no video, it must hurt terribly to be so persecuted and slandered.  If there is a video, something must hurt terribly that crack cocaine is a relief or worth “trying”.   We prayed for our Mayor because friends need friends to step up from time time; we prayed for Rob Ford because Jesus said that we should pray for our enemies.  We prayed for an end to this painful, tragic circus… and I’ll bet that Rob makes that same prayer every day as he tries to fall asleep and every morning when we awakens and realizes that the nightmare is real.

Remember when that bully in grade school picked on you?  How much you hated what she said about you, or how he laughed at your attempts to fit in…. or those brown oxfords kicking into your ribs again and again while you tried to cover yourself from his blows and maintain some dignity… (that might be my special memory).  These were the people that we hoped and prayed would get their comeuppance -  we imagined someone coming along who was bigger and kinder and would pound them into the ground; some of us sent away to Charles Atlas to learn how to build our bodies up so that we could be bigger and kinder and pound our tormentor into the ground…  

And then one day it happened:

Someone bigger came along and the bully was vanquished…. Humiliated… his or her tears were sweet water to the garden of your self-esteem.   

Right?

Or was it all rather hollow and meaningless?

I won’t pretend that I don’t smile when a bully gets knocked down.  I do… but I also remember the incredible lack of "nothing" when my childhood bullies were put in their place.  There was no real change at school... my arms were still skinny; my skin very pale; and my jokes way too hip for the room.  Pretty soon another Bully came along. 

The one time that I beat up a Bully, I remember how foolishly futile it all felt.  I kept punching and he kept falling... but he wouldn't stay down!  He'd get back up, sneer... and I'd punch him down again.  It was as if he didn't seem to understand that I'd won... and it was his job to go away.  That's the problem with the Bully Game it never seems to end. 

I do believe that our Mayor, Rob Ford, has been instrumental in creating an environment and context for bullying.  He has lead by example and the chickens have come home to roost… and there is a small part of me that smiles every time I see the brown oxford shoes of media scrutiny kick him in the ribs… but I also know from experience that the joy is hollow and the victory produces nothing of value… it defeats the opponent, but never changes the game.    I need another game... a better game.

So, I’m praying for Rob Ford – that he find peace, wholeness and opportunity... if only the opportunity to leave (with or without dignity).  I'm praying for Rob Ford because I don't know what else to do.  I'm praying for Rob Ford 'cause Jesus told me to, and his ideas tend to be good ones.

But, I'm also praying for a better game... this one sucks.

Prayer and Spiritual Spooning

Someone asked me recently, if I prayed.

Now, I’m careful about such questions.  I’m cautious…   I’ll tell you what teams I cheer for, what foods I like, who I think is hot (always, and only, my wife).  I’ll tell you about the pedicure I got last week, the experience of my last colonoscopy and I’ll even give you the PIN for my bankcard, before I’ll talk about prayer  (Which is weird because I’m a Minister and it’s kinda in the job description)

.

But as well as being a Minister, I’m also a people pleaser  (many people think I could work harder at this..).  Deep down, I like to make people happy and I hate to disappoint.  I hate to let the earnest believers down when I won’t affirm their belief in a Celestial Concierge to whom I appeal for information, recommendations, reservations, transportation, entertainment and polite solutions to all of my problems.   I also hate to disappoint my “oh so progressive” friends who want me to divorce myself from anything “supernatural” and confirm that prayer is just a kind of self-help meditation practice in which I enable myself to be lovable, capable and gosh-darn amazing.

Answering questions about my personal prayer life, can only lead to disappointment… so, I often change the subject:

"Prayer… that sounds like hair… I love musicals, do you love musicals? I went to London once and saw lots of musicals and I ate a bug…"

Undaunted, the Master of my Inquisition persisted:  “Do you pray?”

“Yes” 

“Do you pray often?”
“Yes” (that’s me, always taciturn).

“Regularly?”
“Yes… I’m a big fan of spiritual bran”  (that sounds more like me)

“Come on… tell me more… how do you pray?”

“I pray Girly in the morning.”

“What?”

“I pray Girly in the morning.”

“If you’re not going to take this seriously, than forget it…”

Mission accomplished… he stormed off and I left the Men’s shower at the gym (people do seem to find the strangest places to start conversation).

However, this time, I actually was ready to explain.. I finally knew how to answer the question.  In fact, I kind of wanted to answer… but I thought that my running naked after him calling out “Wait, wait… I know how to do it now..” would have seemed awkward.  

So, I will instead, blog my reply.

I pray Girly in the morning.

I do pray every morning… heck, I pray all throughout the day… but I make a point of quieting the world down and praying in the morning.  Sometimes at 6am; sometimes at 11:30… but always Girly.   Which has nothing to do with what I wear when I’m praying… and everything to do with my attitude to prayer.

Now, I should warn you that I am about to venture into some serious engagement with cultural stereo-types, which might be offensive to some (feel free at this point to switch over to a Youtube video of a cat riding on Roomba).  I am inspired by Meister Eckhart, Julian of Norwich and David Steinberg when it comes to prayer, but for the authority that comes from cultural stereo-types, I rely heavily on the film canon of Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock and Meg Ryan (the Holy Trinity of chick flicks).  Pouring over the canon, here is what I’ve learned:

Women and men are different.

Men like to do things and get things done…. Often with duct tape.

Women like to talk… communicate… cuddle…  (almost never with duct tape)

Men are in a hurry.

Women are patient.

Men are motivated by reward.

Women are motivated by relationship.

Men, when they listen to women, like to go and fix things.  (again, often with duct tape)

Women just want to be heard…

Women like to cuddle....

Women like Johnny Depp.  (but hey, who doesn't?)

When I pray, I believe that something profound happens.  I believe that my prayers matter.  I believe that the world changes and I change in and as a result of prayer.   But I pray to God…. The Divine… the Holy (and wholly) Other…  as if I was a big girl.  I’m not motivated by reward or fixated on results; my desire is communication and relationship.    My prayers to God are meant to enhance our relationship; to open us further to one another.  In response to my prayers, I’m not expecting God to do my bidding or to rush out and fix things for me… I just want God to listen to me.   I just want to share who I am and be accepted for my experiences, thoughts and feelings and be loved just as I am.  I guess, I’m looking for a little Spiritual Cuddling.

In that cuddle; in that acceptance, I am strengthened… and my awareness is heightened.  As God and I become closer, I am more aware of the Presence of the Divine in the world around me, more attuned to the voice that invites me into beauty, greater depth, deeper joy, varied connection and real wholeness.   Prayer is a place for us (me and God) to enhance and enable a relationship.

I pray about my friends who are suffering, not because my expectation is that God will send an angel and end Aunt Edna’s woes, but because if God is going to know me then God needs to know that I’m awake nights worrying about my beloved Aunt.  I need God to spiritually spoon with me and say “I know…. I know…”  If Edna is on the receiving end of some kind of miraculous gift, then I’m going to be very happy… but regardless of what happens in the next couple of days as a result of prayer, I will at least be more aware of God’s presence in her life and in our relationship… and so, might be able to point to something comforting or inspiring... I might have an observation or insight that has value to Edna, because prayer has opened my eyes and my heart to the Divine.

There was a time that I prayed like a man… or a boy, anyway:  Asking for help and judging God’s love and my worth by the evidence of my will being done.  But then, the Toronto Maple Leafs stopped winning Stanley Cups and I had to wonder.  I came to a crossroads where I would have to give up cheering for the Leafs or give up believing in God (surely, I was good enough to warrant a reward… especially in the 1970s.  The other choice was that I would have to come to a new understanding of prayer.   And so, not ready to give up on God or the Buds, I reconsidered prayer. 

And I found Girly prayer. 

Prayer that asks God to hold me and never let me go… Prayer that tells God about my day, my hopes and my fears without the expectation that God is going to fix everything or take over my life… Prayer that invites and enhances relationship: relationship that invites both parties to grow… Prayer that brings me a deeper appreciation of God’s presence all around me and invites me to be part of that life…  And as I become a part of God's life, I begin to change the world...  Quite satisfying and remarkable, actually. 

Now, if I can just figure out how to get the duct tape in, I’ll have it all.

How can we respond to Boston?

How can we respond to the bombing in Boston?

Dedicate a marathon?  Done.

Do we pass judgment?  Done.

Start a conspiracy theory?  Done and Done.

Give blood?  I guess…

I was involved with my Tuesday afternoon “Progressive Christianity” Discussion Group when this question was raised.  I answered the question in the moment,  but continued to think about my best response as the rest of the afternoon transpired.  I thought about it as I did the dishes (we like to eat in our discussion groups); I thought about it as I drove home (hands at 10 and 2 even if my mind was elsewhere…) and now I’m ready to answer.  This answer won’t get me great marks in a Systematic Theology exam… it may not even get me through the night… but here it is:

How do we respond to the bombing in Boston?

We give blood.

We adopt a world vision child.

We call a lonely friend.

We volunteer to read to the blind.

We write letters to protect our water.

We raise awareness of the looming environmental challenges.

We speak kindly to strangers and smile at scowling people.

We pray.

In short, we invest ourselves in the Kingdom of God.  

Now, I appreciate that the term “Kingdom of God” is fraught with peril.  It is paternalistic.  It speaks to empire and oppression.  It is exclusive for many and it does not convey clearly what Jesus meant…   I know.  We've lost the sense of “satire” that would have been evident in the first century when it was a phrase meant to challenge the Roman Empire…  Some would suggest that Jesus would speak of a "Parliament of God" if he were in Ottawa today, challenging us to wonder what a government would look like if Jesus were running things… (would forgiveness be guaranteed Mike Duffy?)  Some have suggested that Jesus might have called it the “Insurgency of God” in our modern context.  I think that both examples, as well as the popular “Commonwealth of God” lose some of what I value.  

In a Kingdom there is a shared identity, a sense of common purpose, defined by the Monarch – everything in the Kingdom is defined by or connected to the Ruler, including that lovely  Georgian table, Victorian lamp and Louis XV desk.   It is that commonality and connection that I value in the expression “Kingdom of God”.  The Kingdom of God was preached by Jesus as a reality that was imminent; present for those willing to see and live as if it were so.  For me, the Kingdom of God is evident when I pour myself out for another, when I connect myself to God’s agenda as I have seen it in Jesus:  visit the prisoners; feed the hungry, reach out to the marginalized, love the unlovable and invest in what the rest of the world says is foolish and impossible.  (when they say that it is impossible, I turn the other cheek). 

And like a Kingdom, everything is interrelated.  Connected through the King - so when I wonder what I can do about a place far away out of my reach or context, I can still respond by being part of the Kingdom.   My call to a lonely friend may not directly affect someone suffering from the effects of the explosions in Boston, but it does affect the Kingdom… and there is growth in the Kingdom, compassion grows and my response has value and effect.   When I give blood, it may not be given to someone in the Emerg' at Massachusetts General Hospital, but the Kingdom is advanced; fullness of life nurtured for one person and therefore for the whole of the Kingdom.

What this does for me, in a very real way, is keep me from becoming overwhelmed, shutting down and despairing.  I don’t know what to do for my brothers and sisters in Somalia today… I can write a letter, make a donation… but I can also fight for the rights of workers all around the world and know that it is a worthy response.  Worthy because it is all connected by God for all humanity to experience fullness of life.    Some may see this as a way to give $10 to the Humane Society and say that “I've done my part for Palestine” – but I see it more as a way of recognizing the reality that I cannot be everything to everybody; I don’t have the wisdom or resources to take on every cause or injustice… but I don’t have to.  I've been invited to work for and with the Kingdom of God that connects and touches us all and as I do what I can, I know that others are doing what they can… and together, we can realize the Kingdom in this time and place.

At least that’s what I was thinking on the way home…

That, and instead of the “Kingdom of God” maybe Jesus should have called it the “Internet of God”… that would communicate the pervasiveness and the connectedness… except ads and pop ups would probably ruin it.

Hard to Belieb

I was about to post this when the bombs at the Boston Marathon went off… It seemed to flip to publish that day.  However, it is still rattling around in my brain and on my hard-drive, so here it is:

It’s everywhere…

   I posted it on Facebook (so you know that it must be news)…

      Justin Bieber said something really stupid.

Shocking, I know.

Stephen Harper was secretive

Thomas Mulcair was confrontational

Justin Trudeau was really pretty

(more things that you just didn’t see coming…)*

So, the young Mr. Bieber visited the Anne Frank Museum for a private tour.  At the end of the tour he was invited to write in the guest book and wrote the following:  “Truly inspiring to be able to come here. Anne was a great girl. Hopefully she would have been a belieber."

Really?

Now, you might defend the statement by thinking that it was great that Justin was able to recognize Anne Frank as a little girl; a child who had dolls and toys and should have grown up to giggle about love and go on a date.  Justin’s ability to see her as “girl” and not just as a tragic icon reminds of the horrific loss to all of humanity: millions upon millions of little boys, girls, men and woman who were exactly like you and me lost to mass murder.

But, it still came off as flippant -  as if our Pop Star believed that if not for the genocide, she would have been so into his crazy dance beats.  How unlucky for them both.

It bothers many of us, that in face of the atrocities of the Nazi regime, Justin is still thinking about his music; his celebrity: Himself.

But should we be surprised?

No doubt, he is surrounded by all manner of “handlers” and assistants… people to fetch his water, make his breakfast, plan his day, fix his hair, keeps annoying strangers away, tell him how wonderful he is, keep his secrets and basically cater to his whims… For all intents and purposes, the world that Justin Beiber lives in IS all about him.

AND he’s not alone.

The M.S. St. Louis with 937 Jewish Refugees was not allowed to land in Canada in 1939… We didn't want them.

After two months and 1600 kms, a group of Cree youth were not greeted by our Prime Minister, because he was having his picture taken with Pandas in Toronto (a much better photo-op).

My cat comes calling at 6am each morning, and if I pretend to be asleep, she will wake my wife -  who can then get up and feed the cat, leaving me to luxuriate in my own bed.

To varying degrees, it always seems “to be about me”.  (or us… or him…  them… you know what I mean)

Our society certainly supports and promotes this attitude, as advertisements arrived through the mail, television and social media telling me that “I’m the one”… “I deserve this”…  “My future is important.”…   Facebook even tailors ads directly to me based on my history of “Liking” and commenting.  (still not sure why I’m getting so many ads for Lipitor and Cialis… what did I say? And to whom??)  In a Facebook and Twitter world it is all about me.

However, before I lay it all on the shoulders of Social Media and Coercive Capitalism, I think that religion deserves a poke, too.  I will speak only for my faith tradition, but feel free to adapt to be critical of your own.  In Christianity we have put quite a premium on and have a long history of emphasizing personal salvation.

Have YOU been saved?

Are YOU born again?

Is Jesus in YOUR heart?  

             (and he walks with me and he talks with me... and he tells me I am his own...)

Why weren't YOU in church last week?

I enjoy the looked of confusion when people apologize to me for not having been in church for the past few weeks and I reply, “I’m not really one to judge, after all, I’m paid to be here… “  But they have a serious sense of obligation; that somehow it is their job to get their bodies into a place of worship every week.

I can do whatever I pleases,

‘cause I’ve got my plastic Jesus,

on the dashboard of my car…           

  (here ends the sing-a-long portion of this blog)

It really is all about us.

I was asked recently by a very intelligent, committed individual as to the purpose of church.  She said, “If we’re all love by God – and I do believe that – than what’s the point in going?  To be reminded that we are loved?”

I offered that hearing and being assured that we are loved is important… we wouldn't let our children grow up without being told frequently how much we love them.  I added, however we can further mine this parent/child God/humanity metaphor when we consider the way that we love our children.  We want what’s best for them, we want them to make good choices, we want to offer our insight and experience as they decide… we hurt for them, we get upset with them and we sometimes hold their hands through hard times… so on-going church experience can mirror that.  The give and take of relationship… the sharing of love, more than just a statement of fact or condition: YOU ARE LOVED.

But, more than that, I added… we also go to church to be reminded that it’s not all about us.  We aren't just in this world to be personally comforted and saved.  We are in this world to be free… free for the other.  We are in this world to announce, promote and be the Kingdom of God: A way of being that is not coercive or violent, but just and loving.  Justice and Love are abstract notions until they are enacted; lived out by people.  People like us… and church equips us to be loving and just.  It challenges us to make a difference in the world.  It picks us up when we fall, encourages us when we doubt… it opens our hearts and minds, so that we can love one another, fully and completely.   Church exists to celebrate that it is NOT all about us…  And if we could really embrace that, truly live such an attitude and perspective, we might soon discover that hunger is not impossible to eradicate,

Violence need not be prevalent

Justice can be real

Passion and commitment can be honoured

Photo Ops can wait.

Refugees can be welcomed and embraced.

I can get up and feed the blessed cat

And Justin Beiber can visit the Anne Frank Museum and be left speechless.

At least that's what I believe (of course, it's not all about me)

*With apologies for foolish exaggerations and caricatures … I know that Prime minister Harper is not just secretive, Mr. Mulcair can be more then confrontation… Mr. Trudeau is not THAT pretty.

Boston and Brokenness

I had a blog ready to post… but today isn’t the day for my wit.

As I watch the coverage of the Bombing at the Boston Marathon, my mind has been going like this…

We Christians talk about ourselves as the body of Christ… and we mean it as more than simple literary metaphor.  We mean it as deep spiritual metaphor… we are the body of Christ.  We are many diverse parts, and yet one… we are invited to be as Jesus and heal, feed, dance, embrace, struggle and hurt, as his body.    

We also recognize the power of Jesus’ body broken in our communion celebration.  In that brokenness, love is revealed.  That brokenness is our way into understanding, embracing and sharing God’s love.  God’s love, the true “love” of the universe: the peace and wholeness that we all desire in our innermost beings, is not found in acts of strength or bravado; it is not conferred on another as a gift from on high… it comes pouring out and through a broken body.. and only through a broken body. 

In the face of the horror and tragedy of the Boston Marathon today, I cannot be unaffected.  As a Christian, I cannot look away… those broken bodies are my Lord.  I am one with those broken bodies.  That’s where my God can be found… not at some victory party when the enemy is defeated, but in the brokenness of my brothers and sisters.  It is here that I can discover the true power of love, the true heart of God.

I don’t know that means for you or me… what our responses should be… but I know that I cannot turn away.  I know that I can only truly understand, embrace and share this Divine love, when I am willing to be a part of the brokenness.  And not just my brokenness… but that of the whole body; the whole world.  

I know that I’m just rambling now… but I guess that I what I need to affirm, is that even though the people whose numbers I have in my Blackberry are safe and sound – my friends, my brothers and sisters, my Lord and MY body lie broken on Boylston Street.  And it hurts.