Sex talk

I’ve had sex on my mind quite a bit recently.

I’d better explain.

This past weekend, after the completion of Pastor’s Week at AMBS, I was a part of a group of six people, three pastors, three lay leaders, who met together for a planning and writing retreat for the creation of a resource to be made available for congregations of Mennonite Churches USA and Canada.  The project is being undertaken by Mennonite Publishing Network and is on the theme of Healthy Sexuality – celebrating the good gift of sexuality and developing a theological/biblical underpinning for how we think and talk and act as sexual beings.  A fair amount of work by different consulting groups has already been done to establish a framework for the project.  The resource will be intended to be used as a four week study for congregations and will include worship services, adult and youth education study guides, as well as a parent-child discussion guide.  The themes of the four weeks will be 1)Our bodies, God’s image, 2)Created for intimacy, 3) Honoring the gift of sex, 4) Holy desires.  For the month of February I’ll be working at writing and compiling the worship component of this project.  The goal is to have it available for congregations to use beginning late summer of this year. 

So we talked about sex all weekend, or, more accurately, about sexuality and spirituality and how it is that the church can be a place where we openly discuss and nurture health sexuality for people of all ages, single and married and single-again persons.  I’m excited about the project because of its focus on celebrating the good of sexuality, seeing sexuality and spirituality as the same energy which drives us toward intimacy and creative expression, and the project’s design to be accessible to a broad audience of faith communities.

Sexuality and spirituality are also themes going on in a couple other areas.  Our youth are focusing on this topic over the next number of months in Sunday school.  The Dialogue and Discernment group that CMF Council commissioned has been working on a process for how we as a congregation talk about issues of sexuality as it relates to same-sex relationships.     

I think it takes some courage to talk openly about ourselves as sexual beings.  It is an important work of the church to speak meaningfully in this way.  It is important work for each of us to find healthy ways to channel our deepest longings and, ultimately, to direct them toward being co-creators with God in caring for our world.

The Bible in community

This year Pastor’s Week at AMBS is called “Known to us in breaking bread,” and is exploring the practice of reading the Bible confessionally in the congregation.  What “confessionally” means is part of what we’re learning and experiencing.  At these weeks there is usually a lecturer who gives a series of talks on a particular area of their expertise, but this year Professor Mary Schertz is leading us in practice of gathering around the scripture for insight and discernment.  She talks often about how many obstacles there are in our approaching scripture.  The Bible, or at least many stories therein, is over-familiar to us such that it is hard to hear anything new.  At the same time, there is growing lack of familiarity with the Bible, even biblical illiteracy.  There are cultural obstacles to these ancient texts, and there is baggage that each person brings with ways that the Bible has been misused.  The Bible often doesn’t help itself out as there are many difficult texts that portray God in ways we find distasteful or downright off-putting. 

Mary, a scholar of the Bible her whole adult life, has been doing a lot of work around how we reclaim scripture as the book of the community – the holy story that we gather around for study and discernment.  During this week she is leading us through a three part process.  The first is Reading the text – giving the text a close reading and asking questions of the text and taking note of our responses to the text.  The second is Being read by the text – putting one’s life alongside the text and wondering how this informs one’s vocation.  The third is Worshiping with the text – allowing the text to bring us to a place of adoration and wonder.  All of this is done in community, something so important for the Anabaptist tradition.  Scripture is meant to be studied and interpreted in community and it is through our careful attention to the Story, centered on the life of Jesus, that the Holy Spirit guides us.

That’s what this week in Elkhart has been about.  A “confessional” reading allows us to bring all of our questions while allowing the text to prod us toward hearing the voice of God together.

Becoming native

Today I had lunch with George Hardebeck, who helps lead the organization ARCHE – Arts Restoring Culture for Healing Earth.  He is working at helping the Cincinnati area reacquaint itself with its human and natural heritage.  One of the tag lines ARCHE is working with is “The Nati Going Native: an aligning, restoring identity campaign for place.”  From his description and some of the literature he showed me, they are doing some pretty creative and engaging work all intended to celebrate the humanizing act of adapting to one’s place in a way that honors the gifts it offers to all generations.  He had made contact with us after hearing about our Mennonite Arts Weekend and was interested in what we were doing through that, especially as this year’s theme relates to the value of place – “The Art of Place: Sacred Spaces and Common Ground.”

I remember reading in a Michael Pollan reflection what it meant to be native.  His point is that people and other life that we think of as native are not actually original to an area, as if any area has an original pristine state, but rather are examples of life that has adapted appropriately to the particular features of a region.  Native plants have come to settle into a certain kind of symbiotic, beneficial relationship with other life forms of a particular area that allows for mutual thriving.  Pollan then does some reflecting on his own quest to become native to the land on which he is living, even though it was only several generations before that his ancestors immigrated from Europe and Russia. 

Talking with George today and doing some reflecting on what Mennonite Arts Weekend has chosen for this year’s theme continues to highlight for me what might be the biggest challenge – calling? – of those of us who find ourselves alive at this time in history: how to recognize place as sacred and how to live in such a way that we, and seven generations after us, can live in such a way that enables all of life to thrive.  This is such a holistic quest that it can be overwhelming, as it involves every aspect of life, not least of which is our spirituality, which undergirds, energizes, informs us and is the channel through which our desires are focused and expressed.  It’s a significant part of how we go about our life as a congregation – learning what it means to become native to this plot of earth, this city, this watershed, in which we find ourselves.  I’m looking forward to how the Arts Weekend can – soon! – further illuminate this through the beauty of art.

Disturbing prophets

“We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.  Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men (sic) willing to be co-workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation.  We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right.”

Martin Luther King Jr., Letter From Birmingham Jail, April 16, 1963.

What is it that draws us to read the words of the prophets?  There are the healing words of hope and promise that are offered:  Isaiah says, “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.  Speak tenderly to Jerusalem.”  “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.”  More often though, the prophets’ words are upsetting, more along the lines of “Disturb, O disturb my people, says your God.”  Amos declares, “Alas for those who are at ease in Zion, and for those who feel secure on Mount Samaria…but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph.”  Jeremiah laments the unfaithfulness in Jerusalem and prophecies the exile of its people.  Why voluntarily allow ourselves to be disturbed, challenged, upset from comfortable living and drawn into the pain of the world?  I think it’s a fair question!

Over the last half year or so I have been drawn to re-read several times Martin Luther King Jr’s Letter From Birmingham Jail that he wrote to fellow clergy who were urging him to chill out in his overt public action toward civil rights (which King later expanded to include economic rights and a sharp criticism of the Vietnam War).  The letter remains a prophetic call in our generation because of its insistence that love compels the church toward loving action rather than remaining “silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained-glass windows.”

This Sunday, on the weekend our nation honors the life of MLK, we will allow ourselves to meditate on portions of this Letter and listen for what for what it has to say.  Along with the above words, I find in it a solid clue as to why we are drawn to such challenging and disturbing words:    

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.  We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.  Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

If you wish to read the full text of the Letter From Birmingham Jail, you may do so HERE

Making something

Happy new year.  Whoa.  2010.  How did that happen? 

Abbie and I arrived back into town Monday evening and are getting resettled after a week of being in Kansas with her family.  I took some books along, but barely cracked them as a fair amount of my time was taken up with a bathroom tiling project in Abbie’s parent’s house.  It was a bigger project than I anticipated, but it did fulfill one of the needs I feel like I have when I’m away from the work of pastoring – building something concrete (or, in this case, ceramic) with my hands.  This urge and need for balance between the world of words (reading, writing, speaking, thinking) and the world of physical stuff is played out nicely in a book Abbie got me for Christmas (not that I’ve been able to read too far into it).  It’s called A Place of My Own, by Michael Pollan, one of his earlier books before he became known for The Botany of Desire and The Omnivore’s Dilemna.  The book details his experience with building, with his own “unhandy hands,” a small building in the woods behind his house in which to write and study.  In one of the opening paragraphs of the Preface he writes:             

“The book could have been written about almost any building because at its heart is a narrative of the universal process of design and construction – which is to say, the age-old story of how dreams get turned into drawings that then get turned into wood and stone and glass, finally taking their place in the palpable world.  I have always found that process wonderful and slightly mysterious, and the people involved – architects and builders – particularly impressive characters.  Architects do their work on the frontier between the ideal and the practical, translating wisps of ideas into buildable facts, and carpenters are among those lucky souls who handiwork actually adds to the available stock of reality.  To a writer, whose creations can really only be said to exist among the human speakers of his or her language, this is cause for envy.” (Preface, p. ix)

I like that line, “the available stock of reality.”  It’s not an explicitly theological book, but it is an easy jump to ponder how being creating in the image of God means that we are ourselves creators – artists who fashion and shape the world in a way that enhances beauty and functionality. 

Heading into this new year this also feels well-connected to the Mennonite Arts Weekend that is coming so soon.  I’m thankful this is a congregation that celebrates creativity and gives artists a place to teach us how they are adding to the available stock of reality through their creations.  It will be a great way to enter this new year.  If you’re still looking for new year’s resolutions and feel like your life is tilting a bit too much toward the abstract, maybe you want to try and take a crack at making something with your own hands and see how it turns out.

Peace on earth

“Peace on earth” was part of the message that the angels declared in revealing to the shepherds that the Christ and Savior had been born in their neighborhood.  This continues to be a desire and ordering principle for those who recognize Jesus as the Prince of Peace. 

Yesterday evening I received a letter from Weldon Nisly, pastor of Cincinnati Mennonite from the mid-80’s to the mid 90’s and current pastor of Seattle Mennonite.  The letter outlines his plans for his upcoming sabbatical, which will include a trip back to Iraq with a Christian Peacemaker Team delegation, some of these being the same people with whom he traveled in 2003 soon after the war’s beginning.  In the letter, he makes a powerful statement about peace:  “As long we risk everything with our tax dollars and our lives to wage war while refusing to risk anything to wage peace, then it is clear that the tragedy of war will be the way of the world. But it is not The Way of Jesus Christ which is God’s way of peace as loving nonviolence.”

I accept these words and his letter as a call to put in perspective the true “cost” of peace on earth, which, as Jesus teaches us, involves the full commitment of our lives.  While Weldon’s calling is taking him to Iraq, our call to peacemaking could take us anywhere, most likely into our own hearts, our homes, our neighborhoods, places of work, and anywhere else in the global neighborhood that we live in.

As we celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, may we rededicate ourselves to being participants in the longing of the prophets, the choir of the angels, and the labor of our Lord who has saved us through love.

Hospitality

I was up in Bluffton today for a CDC pastor’s meeting.  Part of what we do together is to reflect on some aspect of ministry.  Today’s reflection came out of Diana Butler Bass’ book Christianity for the Rest of Us.  She names ten practices of congregations that are healthy and growing.  The first practice she lists, and the one we talked about today, was the practice of hospitality.  We talked about hospitality as an end in itself.  We are not hospitable to people because we want to change them, or get them into our church, or sell them something.  We are hospitable to people as an act of gratitude and love.  We welcome people as they are because God has welcomed us as we are.  We strive to make our homes and places of worship hospitable places.  One pastor told a story of visiting another congregation on a trip she was making and how welcomed she was from the beginning through the end, including someone in the foyer introducing themselves and asking if she had anyone to sit with and would she please come sit with them.  I told a story of traveling in the Middle East and how welcomed I felt by Muslim families who opened up their homes for places to sleep and meals to eat.  We don’t give hospitality for the purpose of converting someone, but we are all converted toward God through the act of hospitality.  “Hospitality isn’t about changing people, but offering a space where change can take place.” 

In the context of Advent, it also made me think some more about the hospitality that Jesus showed to the tax collectors which I spoke of on Sunday.  Hospitality was a key piece of the “new wineskin” that Jesus was offering – a space being offered where people can encounter one another and experience transformation.  With this week’s scriptures focusing on Mary and Elizabeth, I think about how Mary’s willingness to bear Jesus was an act of hospitality toward God.  Mary made space in her life and her body for the life of Christ to be formed and grow.

May we each give and receive hospitality in these coming days and weeks.

Feelings of the season

 

This past Saturday Abbie and the girls and I headed down to the Civic Garden Center to pick up our Christmas tree.  Fortunately the ropes we had brought along and strategy we had schemed for tying the tree to the roof of our Honda Civic were unnecessary as we found a nice 4 ½ footer that fit well enough in the trunk – still peeking out from under the open trunk lid, but secure for the ride home.  One of the bonuses of living in a bigger house than past years is having space for a Christmas tree.  Having the kids each a year older also gives us a little more optimism that a tree can survive several weeks of being vulnerable to curious hands. 

We spent several hours clearing a space, setting up the tree, putting on the lights and the ornaments.  The girls enjoyed picking out each ornament and pointing out where they wanted it hung.  From how things have gone so far, the lights are the biggest hit of the tree.  Every evening the girls have wanted to turn off all the other lights in the house with the tree lights on, and sing and dance (mostly jump up and down) in front of the Christmas tree.  Jingle Bells, Rudolph, Baby Jesus, and songs that have nothing to do with Christmas have all been invoked at high volume in this new evening ritual.  It’s pretty wild, and fun.

On Sunday afternoon I went over to the church to get something and noticed a man with a walking cane coming slowly down the alley.  When I came out he was near the sidewalk, leaning on a fence for some rest, and I asked him how he was doing.  His answer matched the way he looked.  Not good.  He had been waiting around for one of his adult children to pick him up and take him back to his house on the other side of Oakley.  They hadn’t shown.  Again.  He looked me in the eyes and said, “I hate this time of year.”  As I drove him the short distance back to his house he talked about his recent divorce and his kids who only came around when they wanted money.  He talked about wanting to get right with God and how he was tired of feeling mad at church.  And he mentioned several times how hard this time of year is for him.         

Advent is the season of expectation, and one thing we have learned to expect is that this is a season of heightened experience, where feelings positive and negative are accentuated.  The warmth of strong family bonds glows brighter.  The pain of estranged relationship stings harsher.  The space in one’s heart that was previously occupied by a loved one who has passed on feels wider and more vacuous.    We sing “Joy to the World,” and mean it, but recognize it is also a time when people experience more loneliness, depression, and suicide.  The fact that our President has just ordered that thousands of more troops prepare for a military escalation in Afghanistan casts a shadow over those of us who believe there are viable alternatives of development, diplomacy, and democracy building that will better aid the people of that nation.  It also means that more US families will be apart from loved ones overseas soon. 

The words of Zechariah from the text last Sunday speak of “the tender mercy of our God” that will “break upon us from on high.”  That’s a prayer I’m considering this week and hoping to treat all with this kind of tender mercy through this season of heightened feeling.

 

Engaging Pastors

I’m writing from Elkhart, Indiana; more specifically, the library at AMBS.  I arrived here Tuesday evening and am participating in the Engaging Pastors Summative Conference – a gathering of 100 pastors, conference and denominational leaders, and seminary professors who are trying to bring together all of the learnings from the five year Engaging Pastors program.  At Cincinnati Mennonite we participated in two aspects of that program.  In March of this year we were visited by Professor Gayle Gerber Koontz for the Listening Project. Gayle met with different groups of us, participated in Sunday worship, and gave us a summary of her observations of our congregation.  She also took her observations back to the seminary and passed them along as the seminary works at refining how spiritual formation happens for leaders and congregations.  The other Engaging Pastors event that affected us was the colloquy I participated in last year which gathered pastors who were in their first ministry setting.

One of the interesting conversations going on here is how all parts of the church ecology – seminary, denomination, conference, pastor, congregation – play an important part in ongoing spiritual and leadership formation.  In the past these entities have not related very well together as allies, having more of a silo mentality.  One of the major learning items from this Engaging Pastors process has been how fruitful it is when the parts of the church work together collaboratively.

The congregation has a crucial part to play in how we form leaders.  Not all of these leaders will be “church leaders” per se, but all leaders formed within the congregation are missional leaders, embodying the love of Christ in whatever work, neighborhood, and home setting they find themselves.  I also do hope that we can see ourselves as preparing church leaders – youth and adults who are detecting specific gifts to give toward the church.  Will any of the current young people of CMF be future pastors?  Future conference and denominational leaders?  Future leaders in local and international mission?  I hope so.  For healthy ongoing spiritual formation of all of us we will need to call on the resources and the wisdom of the entire “ecology of ministry,” a phrase getting tossed around this week.  That means congregations, pastors, conferences, and seminaries all are collaborating together for the good of the church and the world.

Marriage and funnels

A week and a half ago Abbie and I attended a Pastor-Spouse Retreat at the Mohican State Park lodge in Northeast Ohio.  The time included four different sessions by John and Naomi Lederach.  John and Naomi have been married for 55 years.  John pastored for about 15 of those earlier  years and they have done couples counseling more recently.  They also lived in Northern Ireland for a number of years working at reconciliation efforts between Catholics and Protestants.  Here are a few notes from one thing they talked about as it relates to the marriage relationship:

They talked about how the family systems that each of us come from influence what we think to be normal.  Each of us carry around, often unconsciously, assumptions, values, hang-ups, perspectives, and gifts that we gained from our family of origin.  They gave the image of each of us walking around with a funnel above our heads.  In my funnel are my parents, my siblings, and further up that funnel as it widens out are their parents, siblings, and other family members.  Inside the funnel are also mentors, teachers, coaches, and peers who have shaped my character and habits. 

This reminded me of an essay my brother has written in a different context which says, “ten thousand folks are floating around in the grey soup in our heads – aunt, uncles, grandparents, pastors, old ladies from church, school teachers, friend’s parents, authors we’ve read and loved, men and women we’ve read about…They’re all in there, thousands of them, telling you where your home is at, who you are, where you’re going, whether you’re doing all right.” 

When two people get married, there are two different worlds that are coming together – two different funnels that start complementing and contradicting each other – two containers of that grey soup that start merging and mixing and speaking to each other, moving into the same house.  Each person has their own version of what normal has been, yet each person, in the marriage covenant, makes the commitment to spend their lifetimes working at what the new normal will be that they establish in their own household, their own relationship.

John and Naomi told different stories about what this has looked like for them.  A very basic example – Naomi’s family celebrated birthdays in a big way, with presents and surprises and parties being the norm while John’s mother wouldn’t make a big deal of them.  When they were married Naomi had certain expectations of how John would celebrate her birthday that didn’t come close to being fulfilled.  It took them a while to talk through these differences and to learn what brought the other person joy.

This wasn’t brand new information for us but was good to hear again and acknowledge that these things don’t go away after the first several years of marriage.  Abbie and I enjoyed being able to take some time to talk about each other’s funnels, what we appreciate about each other, and what the other person could do a little better at!  These are valuable conversations for couples to have.