Questioning God

We’re getting ready for our monthly case study at work. That’s where one of us presents an in-depth look at one of the congregations we’ve been working with and drill down deeply into it so we can learn what we’re doing and grow our ability to work well with congregations. As part of the getting ready, we’ve been reading “The Art of Powerful Questions: Catalyzing Insight, Innovation, and Action.”

The article is a little more exciting than it sounds – but then I guess it would have to be. I did find myself thinking about my recent blog on “To Be or Not to Be – Together In God.” In it I posited that it might be a good idea for faith groups to stop and ask questions – the prime among them being “What is God calling us to do and be in this place at this time with this people?” In “The Art of Powerful Questions,” the author say that compelling questions

• meet people where there is the most energy and relevance for them
• are simple clear and penetrating
• involve people’s values, hopes and ideals
• and shift from a fix-it focus to a possibility focus
  

As I reflected on those ideas, I found myself saying, “Yes” in relation to gathering people of faith and asking that “What is God…” question framed in such a way that it does the above four things. I think that would lead, as we open ourselves to the Spirit, to a new way of being the people of God in a specific locale.

That doesn’t mean such a conversation would be easy. Good answers to good questions rarely are easy (except for when I asked Nancy to marry me over nineteen years ago – I found the question easy, she thought it was a good question, and I though her answer was equally fine). But I do think that the asking, with the guidance of God’s spirit would take any congregation to a new place of discovery about God’s will and would open up the idea of possibilities rather than fixing what’s wrong. Perhaps we would learn, to our surprise, that we are doing what God wants and nothing needs to change. I think it’s more likely though that we’d find ourselves and our fellow worshippers called to step out in faith in new directions and to do some new things. What they might be, I can’t imagine – but God can.

--Brent

Faster than a speeding Bible -- Superheroes and Faith

I was checking out Ship of Fools (the e-zine of "Christian Unrest") early today. One of their pieces noted a site that catalogs the religious preferences of comic book heroes. “This section of the adherents.com site catalogues the religious affiliation of hundreds of superheroes, their archenemies and sidekicks.” Well, I was a kid who read lots of comics and attended church as a kid – so I thought I’d check out who was what in the religious super-hero world (or is that super-hero religious world).

I was a bit surprised to learn that Superman was a Methodist. Part of the surprise comes from him being drawn by a couple of Jewish guys. Another part comes from trying to get my head around a true Methodist being a super-hero – “faster than a Wesley hymn, more powerful than the General Board of Discipleship?”

Batman turns out to be a lapsed Episcopalian. That doesn’t surprise me. The BatCave with all its secrets reminds me of a “smells and bells” congregation gone amok. And Bruce Wayne/Batman is always showing up at various society affairs – definitely not Pentecostal.

I was disappointed to discover than Blackhawk (the Polish freedom fighting flyer) who led an ecumenical band of pilots, was a lapsed Catholic. Disappointed in the lapsed part, that is. His fighting fit perfectly with Catholic just war theory in my thinking.

It seems that just about every faith tradition represented in America – United Church of Christ, Baha’i, Hindu, Presbyterian, et al – has at least one superhero affiliated with them. Even the Seventh Day Adventists. Every faith tradition, except, and you may see this coming… Quakers.

Now there is a list of possible Quakers, but I’m not buying it. These all were lumped under the category “Legion of Quaker and/or Radical Pacifist Super-Heroes.” Well, as anyone who knows Quakers (at least Midwest Quakers) will tell you, there’s a big difference between “Quaker” and/or “Radical Pacifist” – except, as my son-in-law Mark will tell you, when it comes to Nancy and me.

Indeed, the only true (sorta) Quaker on this list is Richard Nixon. And he, even on this list, was hardly a superhero. His appearance is due to Robert Smigel and Adam McKay’s X-PRESIDENTS, which originally appeared as animated “TV Funhouse” segments of NBC’s SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE! This parody comic featured a resurrected Richard M. Nixon (the real Nixon being dead at the time). The “sorta” comes in because, 1) he was dead, and 2) Nixon also attended a Presbyterian church in California, so I’m willing to cede him to the Calvinists and the whole concept of total depravity.

The closest we’ve come to having a superhero was in the late 80s when Quaker Oats launched a campaign featuring Popeye the Quaker Man. “Instant Quaker Oats Presents the Fight of the Century: Popeye the Quaker Man vs. Bluto the Bad!”, a pamphlet of cartoons, was one of their ads. The campaign was withdrawn after a flurry of mail from outraged “radical pacifist” Quaker. ;-) You know what they say, “Hell hath no fury like a pacifist scorned.”

So, here we are in the 21st century, and still no Quaker comic book hero. It’s enough to drive a person take a swig of Old Quaker Whiskey – which did exist.

-- Brent

A Good Friday Prayer-Poem: A Quiet Roar

one

he lays his left hand along the beam

hand that moulded clay into fluttering birds

hand that cupped wild flowers to learn their peace

hand that stroked the bee’s soft back and touched death’s sting

two

he stretches his right hand across the grain

hand that blessed a dead corpse quick

hand that smeared blind spittle into sight

hand that burgeoned bread, smoothed down the rumpled sea

three

he stands laborious

sagging, split,homo erectus, poor bare forked thing

hung on nails like a picture

he is not beautiful

blood sweats from him in rain

far off where we are lost, desert dry

thunder begins its quiet roar

the first drops startle us alive

the cloud no bigger

than a man’s hand

Veronica Zundel - taken from The Lion Christian Poetry Collection

To Be Or Not to Be -- Together in God

“To be or not to be?” That was the question the Friends in Fellowship worship sharing group pondered last Sunday evening. The group started meeting at Ploughshares Farm in July 2007 and the time seemed right to worshipfully consider together whether we should continue or not. We spent almost two hours in silence and deep speaking and listening and, in the end, discerned that we felt led to continue as a group. We also determined that we were open to new folks joining as they felt led and for any of us to leave if so led.

The conversation was deep and heartfelt. We entered it without any preconceptions as a group of what the outcome would be. But this post is less about what we did, than it is about a thought that occurred to me toward the end of the evening and has continued to stay with me since then. And that thought is, what would it be like for every worshiping group to set aside time to ask “Should we be or not be?” What would it be like to face, as a people of faith, to come together and seek God’s guidance about whether to continue meeting or not. Continue programs or not. Keep the building or not?

By that I don’t mean the governing council meeting and wrestling with this so as to fill out a report to the denominational office. Or to fulfill some requirement in a book of discipline. But rather to engage the congregation as a whole in a sort of holy wrestling with purpose and mission. And not at a set time of year (“Oh, it’s time for that meeting again!”), but rather because the members and attenders are spiritually sensitive folks and understand that following God’s direction is the most important work they can do – more important than how many people show up for worship, what programs are offered, are the financial needs being met, etc.

I am certain there are some worship groups who do this kind of discernment, but by and large most congregations seem to meander on their busy way. They’re so busy doing that which folks felt God had called them to years or generations ago that they rarely stop and ask, “What’s God want us to be doing – as a whole – now?” They may ask about adding this program or dropping that service – but what about the larger question – “Does God continue to call us to be together as a community of faith – or is it time for …?” For what can only be discerned as we prayerfully listen to the One who calls, and guides, and leads us to the places we need – not want – to be.

--Brent

Beautiful Faith and A Night at the Opera

Nancy and I went to the opera last night. It was a first for me -- someone who has always mocked (albeit gently) opera as little more than a country-western song that last three hours and is sung in a foreign language. And "Tosca" sort of fit that criteria -- it was long (2 hours and 49 minutes) and very sad (all the leads die -- "There's blood everywhere," said our docent happily prior to the show). Of course, where it differed was that there was no truck or dog or D-I-V-O-R-C-E, just death and sadness.

What I didn't expect, though, was to be so completely drawn in and mesmerized by "Tosca." It was beautiful -- the sets, the symphony, the singers, the music. Captivating. The time flew by. At each intermission, Nancy and I looked at each other with eyes that said, "Wow." No words were needed. It was amazing. And while I didn't run out and buy season tickets, you can be sure that we'll be back. It was too beautiful an experience not to enjoy again.

Which made me think about faith and attracting people to it. Lots of congregations try lots of things to bring people in the doors. We hear that conservative churches are growing, and so a group of us decides the way to growth is to be more theologically conservative. Or an expert says that "contemporary worship" is attracting new folks -- so we rip out the organ and put in a praise band. Or seeker-sensitive services. Or Saturday night services . Or Cowboy Church (I'm not making this up!). Or... whatever. Lots of congregations try these things and don't see much in the way of results.

What we don't seem to try is making faith beautiful. I've been thinking about that a lot after reading Tony Jone's The New Christians. Especially the passage where he says:

"... why in the world would you think that you can do anything to get people to come to church? Instead, why don't you worry about being faithful -- living out a beautiful Christianity -- and see what the spirit does in your midst? I think that people will be more attracted to the Spirit than anything you could ever do to "hook" them. (p. 201)

After going to the opera last night, I am more than ever convinced of the wisdom under girding Jones' thinking. My preconceptions of opera were shattered -- but not by rational arguments by leading critics, not by a pledge of rigid adherence to Puccini's original score or staging, and not because they provided an "opera-seeker-sensitive listening experience with cup holders at each seat, watered down content, and sit-com length. No. Instead they simply made it beautiful. And that beauty made me long to experience more. Our souls hunger for beauty where ever they can find it. As Jim Croegaert's song says:

Frost on the window never the same
So many patterns fit in the frame
Captured in motion frozen in flame
And in the patterns is there a Name
Why do we hunger for beauty?
("Why Do We Hunger For Beauty" ©1989 Meadowgreen Music Co./Heart of the Matter Music )

That hunger for beauty is part of who we are -- and what calls us to beauty and to God. Dare we -- conservative, liberal, seeker-sensitive, praise-band oriented, Bible-based, emergent, or whatever, dare to live a beautiful faith and thereby call people to God? Dare we not?

-- Brent

Exisiting Congregations and Convergence/Emergence

In my most recent blog, I said that the move to convergence/emergence had to start with questions and discernment. I think this is imperative. One reason is that it's a bit different moving an existing congregation to a new place than it is starting a completely new work. Not that either is easy!

Second, I even wonder if an existing congregation can be moved in this direction. The questions about what is God calling us to do in this time at this place with these people? Why has God brought us together? Why are we located geographically where we are? Why do we do what we do with our time together – in worship, study, prayer, fellowship? are hard ones. They call into question, in many people's minds and hearts, the things that have made us who were are as individuals and a community of faith. That includes our current "order" of worship and the way the pews are positioned in the Meetingroom. Perhaps a beloved pastoral type set the current order of worship forty years ago and people remember him fondly and want to honor his memory. Perhaps my mother was on the committee that picked out the new pews and carpet for the meetingroom forty years ago. All of these questions then move beyond just interesting spiritual ones and into the realm of interpersonal and system dynamics.


Third, I also don't think convergence is something that can be grafted onto a current system. Not too long ago people were wrangling over contemporary worship styles or traditional styles. Some compromised by developing "blended worship" -- a mix of chorus and hymns, organs and praise bands. I don't think this generally worked very well (at least that's what I've seen as a consultant). Except for the few places who did it well and carefully, it mostly dissatisfied both groups -- the young and old.


Blending convergence with traditional would be an even worse idea, I think. That's because the two are largely incompatible. Convergence is not just a new layer to be added, it's a whole new way of "being church." That's also why I doubt it could be an "added" service -- "we'll do the traditional service on Sunday mornings and the convergent on Saturday evenings."


Again, these are just my musings and thoughts -- after reflecting on some of the congregations I know and love. I wonder, even knowing all the good hearted people in them, whether they could agree to move in this new direction. Could we really unscrew the pews and dismantle the platform and arrange ourselves in such a way that we could see each other instead of all looking at the pastor and choir and the backs of everybody else's heads? The only way I see this happening is if it is a God thing -- if the community of faith listened and asked and prayed together and came to the sense of the meeting that this was the thing to do. And by community of faith I don't mean the ten people and pastor who attend monthly meeting. I mean everybody.


Another route may be to say, "It's not for us, but we like it for others and so we'll open some of our space to do this new thing." To do a sort of congregational space sharing. Other congregations do this all the time -- I know one building that serves as a synagogue on Friday and Saturday and a church on Sunday. Perhaps this could be a way -- to embrace the doing of a new thing whilst honoring the good work and the needs being met by the congregation's style and manner and ministry now.


These are the sorts of things I believe need to be thought about and wrestled with, all under the work of seeking God's will. Not my will. Not a small group's will. Not even a majority's will. Only what is God's will.

-- Brent

Still More on Convergence and Emergence and Doing What God Wants

Since I’ve been blogging a bit (okay, a bunch) on the emergent/convergent movement, I guess you can tell that I’ve had something on my mind. And that something is mostly, “What does it mean for Quakers to be the Friends of Jesus in this day?” And I mostly mean that for the programmed tradition since that's the tradition I know best.

The first thing I believe is that the convergent Friends movement is not for everybody or every congregation. There are many fine, vital congregations functioning in our Society as well as society at large. Nor do I think that it is a magic bullet – which probably is a good thing, since we Quakers don’t really care for ammo. The third is that moving this direction, as a congregation or as individuals, is a matter of discernment, of seeking God’s will. The ultimate question is not “What would Jesus do?” but rather the more demanding, “What would Jesus have us do?” That requires carefully discernment work. And before you think this is a plug for my new book Sacred Compass: The Path of Spiritual Discernment, let me assure that it’s not (though it is a really good book!). Rather, it seems to me, to be the starting place because asking what God wants should be the starting point for any spiritual exercise – including the reformation of our life together, also known as Church.

This discernment must be centered in the transformative work of the Holy Spirit – leading, guiding, directing. It will involve lots more listening, I think, than it will doing. It must begin with the questions, “What is God calling us to do in this time at this place with these people?” Why has God brought us together? Why are we located geographically where we are? Why do we do what we do with our time together – in worship, study, prayer, fellowship?

If we take time to answer those questions, which seem to me central to the emergent/convergent movement, we may – I would posit, probably will – find ourselves moving new directions. And asking even more questions that would involve a rethinking of our "order" of worship and maybe even a reorientation of our architecture. What should a Meetingroom look like? Could we -- would we -- dare ask such questions of ourselves? Would we -- could we -- change if called to?

And, I further posit, that very few of the emerging convergent congregations would look alike – either in their worship styles, room configurations, study opportunities, outreach. It would be much more organic – growing from the soil of the community in which they are planted and nurtured and growing in the warmth of God’s love and guidance.

For example, I doubt that any other group would look quite like the Friends in Fellowship group that meets every two weeks at Ploughshares. We gather, usually center in silence, and then engage in an intentional (but unplanned) spiritual conversation around a topic that arises from the hearts and souls of those who are gathered. We have no clerk nor any idea what shape the evening will take – we have committed ourselves to being Spirit-led. We trust that since Christ is our present Teacher, the Spirit will lead our worship. And so we’ve worshipped and talked worshipfully about such things as discernment, peace in a war-wracked world, what is the “right” size for a spiritual community and so much more. When others hear about our group, I’m happy to tell them how we do what we do and say that they are even welcome to come experience it. But I also tell them they must go deeply into the questions above.

One reason I do that is that I’m finally, at geezer-hood, learning to trust – to trust God and God’s faithful people. And so, at the first meeting of the Friends in Fellowship group, Mr. Bill (me) came with his plans – which were promptly scuttled by the people God called together for that meeting. And together we developed our way of being God’s people together. And it was – and still is – good. For us. I don't know -- or particularly care -- whether it would be good for any other group. That's for the group and God to decide.

What the convergent Friends have in common is hearing God's voice calling us to do what Tony Jones’ The New Christians urges us to do -- to live out a beautiful Christianity, be faithful, and then see what the Spirit does in our midst? If that’s at the heart of the emergent/convergent movement for Friends – regardless of whether a particular congregation continues as it is or devolves or evolves into new ways – then God things will happen.

--Brent

Quakers as the First Emergents

As I noted in a comment posted to my “Convergent, Emergent, Divergent” blog, I'm reading Tony Jones' The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier.

One line from its early section really resonated with me and my feelings about convergence/emergence and Quakers. In telling a story about Lillian Daniel (a UCC pastor friend of mine), Tony writes, "Lillian thought she was joining a movement, but she was joining a bureaucracy. And that bureaucracy tends to quash the passion of the many Christ-centered and enthusiastic persons therein."

As I read farther into the book, I saw some things that made me wonder if Quakers weren’t the original Emergents. When Tony shares some things from Brian McLaren’s A New Kind of Christian, Tony relates how the fictional Neo (a former Presbyterian pastor turned Episcopal layman) says:

• About the Bible – “What if the real issue is not the authority of the text … but rather the authority of God.” This, of course, resonates with what Friends have long held – that we honor and cherish the written words of God in scripture, but God is our ultimate authority. As George Fox said, “’Oh! no; it is not the scriptures;’ and told them it was the Holy Spirit, by which … opinions, religions, and judgments were to be tried; for it [The Holy Spirit] led into all Truth.”


• About Christianity as the exclusive spiritual truth, Neo says “Look, Dan, I believe Jesus is the Savior, not Christianity.” Again, to quote Fox, “O then, I heard a voice which said, ‘There is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition’: and when I heard it, my heart did leap for joy.”


• And about evangelism – “Stop counting conversions… Instead count conversations, because conversation implies a real relationship, and if we make our goal to establish relationships … I know that conversions will happen.” Friend George Fox said, “Bring all into the worship of God... And this is the word of the Lord God to you all, and a charge to you all in the presence of the living God: be patterns, be examples in all countries, places, islands, nations, wherever you come, that your carriage and life may preach among all sorts of people, and to them; then you will come to walk cheerfully over the world, answering that of God in every one; whereby in them you may be a blessing, and make the witness of God in them to bless you.”
  

There are many connection points – robust theological thinking, a missional approach, gender equality, social action – as well. Of course, where the similarities break down are that I’m thinking of the early Quakers, not us today. Today, I’m afraid, too many of our congregations (especially the pastoral ones) are too much like one Friend described them, saying we “behave for all the world other low-temperature Protestant churches.”

Now before it begins to sound like I am an unabashed apologist for convergence or emergence, let me say I’m not. After years of being a pastor and a congregational consultant, I’m a skeptic (not that I’m not naturally. Ha) – especially when it comes to congregational programming that is the latest and greatest. “Best practices” often aren’t. What works in one congregation cannot guarantee success in other. But still, this convergence/emergence thing feels much a movement in the same way the early Friends were a movement. And I hope that perhaps it can help break us out of that “that bureaucracy [that] tends to quash the passion of the many Christ-centered and enthusiastic persons therein."

--Brent

Convergent, Emergent, or Divergent -- Where Are Quakers Going?

Nancy and I attended a meeting last evening with about 60 other Friends from three yearly meetings to discuss the desire of forming an association of progressive Friends. Reflecting on that meeting today, I came to the conclusion, based on what I heard last night, my work as a congregational consultant, and my heart, that perhaps – and it’s just my opinion – that much of what I would hope from such a group is underway in the convergent Friends movement.

The convergent Friends movement is, it seems to me, the Quaker version of the emergent church movement – a group, according to their own words, “is a growing, generative friendship among missional Christians seeking to love our world in the Spirit of Jesus Christ.” (Emergent Village). They also say that they are about

• “Growing”: which indicates our desire to develop as the dreams of God for the healing, redemption, and reconciliation of the world develop.
• “Generative”: which means that we expect our friendship to generate new ideas, connections, opportunities, and works of beauty.
• “Friendship”: Because we firmly hold that living in reconciled friendship trumps traditional orthodoxies – indeed, orthodoxy requires reconciliation as a prerequisite.
• “Missional”: Because we believe that the call of the gospel is an outward, apostolic call into the world.

Why I think the convergent Friends movement has much to offer is that it embraces the above all within the context of the rich diversity of Quaker faith and practice. I like the idea behind the word “convergent” – one definition of which is ”tending to come together from different directions.” I am concerned that there be places for theological hospitality and deep discussion about Friends testimonies and their applicability in today’s world. I don’t think that developing another group of “like-minded” Friends is going to be very helpful to us. That would seem to me to be “divergent.” I know what I cherish are rich times of worship across “lines.” What feeds my soul is when whatever dialogue growing out of that worship is done with respect and caring – me listening and learning from my Evangelical brothers and sisters, my more mystical brothers and sisters, my liberal brothers and sisters and letting Christ teach me through all of them.

I don’t think convergent Friends is the final answer for all Friends in all circumstances. But I do think it has a lot to offer to those of us inside Friends who long for places of deep spiritual engagement (and all that means) and those outside of Friends who hear about us and wonder where to connect with a people who seek to be known as the Friends of God in an open and welcoming way.

--Brent

PS Robin Mohr, a blogger at What Canst Thou Say and a Friend from San Francisco, is organizing a dinner in Indiana on April 6 for anybody interested in convergent Friends. It will be at Ploughshares Farm (Nancy’s and my home) that evening. You can read more about it and sign up to attend at http://robinmsf.blogspot.com/2008/01/convergent-friends-dinner-in-indiana.html If you're itnerested, please visit Robin's blog and sign up to attend.

Jesus Junk, Holy Hardware, and other Tacky Religious Stuff

A friend of mine just wrote and told me that she was "Googling" important words such as "Quaker," "Easter," and "Silence" and came across my blog post about "Chocolate Crosses." She revealed that she enjoyed tacky religious stuff as much as I did -- and cherished her pack of "Atone-mints."

I began thinking of other tacky religious things I liked -- and the ones which give me pause. The ones I like are the ones that are parodies -- like the "Wash Away Your Sins" personal hygiene line or "Convert to Judaism Breath Spray ("Access over 4000 years of Jewish doctrine with a single spritz of the tongue!"). I gave that last one to my little rabbi brother Aaron -- he said he'd use it when mixed faith couples came to him to be married. No messy conversion needed any more!

Still, the real stuff -- the serious Jesus junk -- is funnier and sadder at the same time. I mean, "What would Jesus do" if he walked into a store and saw this stuff? Armor of God PJs? The Jesus Pan ("Put the image of Jesus RIGHT ON FOOD!") Gone to See Dad t-shirt? Would Jesus laugh -- or cry?

But just when I think we Christians have a corner on truly tasteless religious stuff, Aaron sends me some Jewish junk. Which just makes me wonder all the more -- is religious tackiness just part of the much talked about Judeo-Christian tradition? Do Muslims have really schmaltzy stuff? Or Hindus? Or Buddhists? Or even Wiccans?

As usual, I don't have any answers. Just questions. I do have to wonder, is this -- any of this, from worship to Jesus junk -- anything remotely like He had in mind? My guess is we're sorta, kinda, maybe close on worship -- and pretty far away on the holy hardware side of things.

Well, gotta run. My "Last Supper Wall Clock" is chiming the call to dinner.

-- Brent

Any nominations for really tacky religious stuff you've seen? Post 'em please!

The Cost of War -- The Cost of Peace

Now I know I'm out of step with many folks feelings, but I do place Jesus' words "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you" above false patriotism's words "Love your country -- right or wrong." And when I saw this brief video I was reminded both of the cost of war and the potential for good that could be accomplished were our government (of a nation that many still want to hold up as a "Christian nation") to redirect those funds towards peace. Would to God that would happen.




--Brent

Mr. Bean and the Love of God

Having just returned from vacation, Nancy and I picked a movie about vacations to watch the other night. It starred Rowan Atchinson as the hapless Mr. Bean -- someone Nancy introduced to me after discovering his comedy whilst flying over and back across the Atlantic ten years ago on her Grecian vacation.

This film is the usual combination of Bean -- very little dialogue on Atkinson's part ("Bean," is one of the few words he speaks, in his low, deep in his throat voice) and lots of sight gags. Poor Bean, the uptight Englishman in his brown shoes, brown pants, brown tweed jacket and white shirt, often gets into self-made messes, but just as often causes messes behind him of which he is rarely aware. It's a scream (I think) in the same way that the old-time silent comedies were.



The poor guy is so clueless and so accident prone that your heart just goes out to him. You can anticipate what's going to happen to him -- and then it does. And you shake your head and smile and keep hoping that something graceful will happen to or for him. Even though the mishaps that happen occur largely because he's trying to get away with something and doesn't want to acknowledge the consequences of his actions.

As I watched the film, from my third person omniscient point-of-view at home, I thought of God watching us, with that Divine first person omniscient view -- and it helped me see a fresh way of how God loves us. That is the loving, watchful, "oh no, what's he/she going to do now, I can't believe it, but I do believe it and..." look. There certainly has to be some kind of cosmic comedy behind some of the things we do and whilst I would not ever posit that God made us to watch us be funny, that has to be one of the side-benefits of watching over us. That's because, ultimately, for all his missteps and misfortune, Mr. Bean rarely comes to harm. Even from things he's caused. Minor scraps and scrapes to be sure, but in the end, all is well, all manner of things are well.

The same is true for us. Ultimately. Under the watchful care of God. Loving us and laughing, perhaps, at the same time. Especially at the things that we do to ourselves. There's the twinkle of Divine amusement that is buoyed by love eternal, all loves excelling.
-- Brent

Sacred Compass -- Early Reviews

Early reviews of Sacred Compass: The Path of Spiritual Discernment (due for April 1 release) are coming in. Noel Paul Stookey (Paul of Peter, Paul and Mary) says, "The scope of an ordinary compass is limited to 360 degrees. In his new book, Brent Bill places our heart at the center of a SACRED COMPASS; creating, in 'plainspeak' a most welcome handbook for spiritually engaged decision-making."

Nancy and I will be hosting a book release party at Ploughshares Farm on April 13 from 3-6 for folks close by. It'll be a chance to buy books at a hefty discount and visit the prairie at Ploughshares -- now in its 3rd year and about to burst with wildflower blooms and tall grass. RSVP at brentbil@sbcglobal.net Consider yourself invited.

-- Brent

Peace-Out, Dawg-Mon: Or Misspent Time in Jamaica

Nancy and I just returned from our first (and probably last!) Caribbean. I did not find shipboard life nearly as restful or romantic as I hoped -- I've been back in Indiana almost 24 hours and still don't have my landlegs. The whole world is rocking and rolling.

Which was the main part of the reason for the trip -- to be musically involved with Lyle Lovett, Emmylou Harris, the Duhks, Patty Griffin, and more. That part -- the music -- was very fun. The time asea was less so (for me).

On a day trip to Jamaica, which was very cool, I did something sort of out-of-character. I got my hair beaded. Okay, so it's more out of the realm of possibility than character -- having so little hair! But I thought it'd be fun -- plus it'd freak out my good friend Tim (who's also my boss).

Here are somethings I learned about having your hair braided.

1. It hurts! Maybe if you have more hair, it doesn't hurt so much, but my "hairdresser" really had to yank to braid my hair together and put the beads on. So, to my sisters who wore braids in the 50s and 60s, well, Kathleen, Linda, and Julie, now I know why you look so squinty-eyed in those pictures!


2. People on ships think it's cool. Especially women. It was fun having attractive young ladies come up to me and admire the braids and say things like "Cool," "Neat," "Rad," and "That's just adorable." Of course, that latter one made me feel like a kitten or puppy. Especially since Nancy was standing there trying not to laugh! I guess part of the adorableness was the fact that I'm old, gray, and very married. I'm "cute," I guess, in that way.


3. People in on land don't know what to think. Nobody at the airport said anything about it. Nor at the car rental place. Nor at the eateries we visited.


4. People in Indiana really don't know what to think. Some folks at work thought it was a hoot. Others seemed mightily embarrassed -- for me and them. Tim, my aforesaid boss, was a good sport. He welcomed me back and then almost -- emphasis on almost -- swallowed his teeth when he saw the braids, but then continued on with the welcoming. He was happy to hear they were being cut off tonight (before a book-sigining at the office tomorrow with lots of VIPs).

Wearing them reminded me that appearances really do matter -- too much so. We (and I mean "I") judge too many people -- their intellect, depth, humanity, spirituality, ability, worth -- by how they look and what they wear. I was a bit hurt by those who acted liked nothing was different about me -- when it was so obvious that there was. And was lifted by those who laughed along with the joke I was playing on myself.

Those things along were worth the price of braiding -- physically and fiscally!

--Brent

PS -- The picture above was taken at work. Mr. Old Preppy whose rep tie strips match his beads!

The Geography of Light

I'm excited. For one it's Friday and Nancy and I are about to be off spending some time with Lyle Lovett and Emmylou Harris and some other musical types in warm, sunny places. For another, Carrie Newcomer's got a great new CD coming out.

"The Geography of Light" officially releases on February 12, but you can preview the album now on carrienewcomer.com. I've been listening to a pre-release version since Carrie gave it to me last November and I think it's her strongest effort yet. Sensitive, soulful lyrics coupled with strong melodies are one draw. The great production values are another. And then there's Carrie's voice -- strong and forceful one phrase, whispering and winsome the next. It's really amazing stuff. My favorites are "Two Toasts" (co-written with Parker Palmer), the haunting "Lazarus" (Since he called my name/Nothing's the same), and "Leaves Don't Drop, They Just Let Go." Every song on the CD (including the quirky, fund "Don't Push Send" -- about the perils of email) is a jewel -- carefully crafted and lovingly presented.



(watch closely and you'll seee me in the video)

Carrie's out touring now in support of the CD. You won't want to miss her if she comes to a town near you. If you happen to see her, tell her that her old, Quaker bowlin' cousin says, "Hey!"
-- Brent

The B-I-B-L-E ... yes, that's the book...

In addition to the thoughts stirred up by The Year of Living Biblically, a few other things have been bubbling around based on comments I've heard and or things I've seen lately.

One was Doug Pagitt's practice at Solomon's Porch of making sure that Bible verses are read in context -- no proof-texting allowed. It's sort of like a variation on the old Lay's Potato Chip ad -- you can't read just one. Doug reads an entire section, or chapter, or book(!) to place the thoughts in proper context. Now that would cut out some of my best sermons, which are based on snippets like "Be still and know that I am God." I think A.J. Jacobs did some that same sort of selective scripture obeying when he tried to follow all the biblical laws. Yes, he often looked at the context of the surrounding scripture, but there were times verses were popped out of context and he put them into practice.

Another thing was the idea that, besides a textual context, there's a historical context as well. I know people who read 1 Corinthians 14:34 -- "As in all the churches of the saints, the women should keep silence in the churches." -- as a biblical mandate for our time. It's a commandment of scripture. But later in that same book Paul tells us, "Greet one another with a holy kiss" and they don't believe that is a biblical mandate for our time. "It's from their culture," they say. I supposed we're not supposed to expect an email from "Aq'uila and Prisca, together with the church in their house, send[ing] you hearty greetings in the Lord," either. Or are we? How do we know the context and what is for that time and what is for all time? I guess it all depends on our lens.

Then I got to thinking about who decided what was in the Bible and what was out. Marcion, in the first century, had a fairly limited list -- the Gospels and a few of Paul's epistles. By Athanasius time (4th century), most of the books we have now were in -- except for churches in Asia minor that deleted Revelation. Martin Luther wanted to drop James. And the Old Testament varies depending on whether you include the Apocryphal books or not. Very confusing.

Finally, I watched "Mr. Deity and the Book."

What would Jesus do?! I think Carrie Newcomer's right when she sings "God speaks in rhyme and paradox, this I know is true."

What I also know is true is that Scripture has been a source of solace, inspiration, confrontation, and challenge for me. That's a good thing -- and it solves the problem for me of having to (or getting to, when I feel especially self-righteous and confuse that for true righteousness) speak as God's representative to the sinners in the world and quoting Scripture to get them to shape up. Those who say, "The Bible says it, I believe, that settles it" may find it isn't quite settled yet.

-- Brent

Emergent, Convergent, Schmergent -- Some Thoughts After Two Days In the Car with Doug Pagitt

This whole emergent church (and Quaker's version of it called "convergent") have been on my mind lately. Mostly because I signed up to be the host staff person of a Center for Congregations' event titled "ReImaging Church" with emergent leader and Solomon's Porch pastor Doug Pagitt. That meant attending his two workshops (one in Indianapolis and one in Jeffersonville, Indiana) and hauling him up and down Interstate 65 and to assorted points in between.

Doug's a good guy to road-trip and eat out with, but that's a whole 'nother blog -- especially about the Mutt (him) and Jeff (me) size difference and the difficulty in getting a picture together and a whole bunch of really lame but funny (at least to us) jokes.

What kept buzzin' around in my head after these two days with this really smart, articulate, forceful guy, comes down to this idea of who gets to say who's in and who's out as it relates to "church." Who gets to speak for God in making these decisions of who's in and who's out? I kept thinking about Kate Young Caley's book The House Where the Hardest Things Happened -- and her family being kicked out of the church they helped found simply because her mother became a waitress at a place that served alcohol. That sounds extreme to most of us -- yet we're perfectly comfortable setting up some other criteria.

His model for Solomon's Porch seems very similar to our Friends in Fellowship Worship Group -- a place of theological hospitality where are more than merely welcome, they are part of the community. This openness seemed to worry some workshop attendees -- and lots of other folks have written about their concerns as well. If you don't stand for something, well, then, how can you be Christian?

I think their question and questioning are sincere, but probably the wrong question. Jesus' invitations (such as "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest") seem pretty open to me -- no theological requirements, no "pre-testing," no conditions at all. Come one, come all.

While Solomon's Porch is just one expression of the emergent movement, it does offer new thinking about what it means to be "church" in the 21st century. Is it the Post-Modern Reformation? I think it's too soon to tell. Regardless, there's much that those of us who are committed to the best in our traditions -- the things that called us to them or keep us in them -- can learn. I urge you to check out Doug's Church Re-Imagined and his forth-coming A Christianity Worth Believing. Agree or not, his ideas will make you think. Which is 'zactly the point.

-- Brent

Also, for those who are Friends/Quakers, we (Nancy and I) will be hosting a "Convergent Friends" dinner here at Ploughshares Farm on the evening of April 6th following Friends World Committee for Consultation -- Section of the Americas' annual meeting. For more information, visit Robin M's blog "What Canst Thou Say."

Living Biblically

Our reading club, The GoodWords Book Club, just finished reading A.J. Jacob's The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible. I found it really provocative.

A.J. has an accessible writing style that is filled with irony and wry humor. And the book is wonderful spiritual diary of sorts -- even though A.J. is an agnostic. He explores what it means to take the Bible seriously -- and uncovers the absurd lengths that many of us go to make it say what we want it to say.

Certainly, as I read about how he quit cutting his beard because of a Biblical injunction against such an action and then had his closet vetted to make sure he did not have mixed fiber clothing due to another law, I wondered how many people who say things like "The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it" choose what parts of the Bible they attach that saying to. I've heard a lot of that kind of language lately in deciding who's in and who's out of church. And to support social stands based on a verse taken out of context. And ... well, I do the same thing, I guess.

The only difference, at least I hope this is true, is that I know I'm reading the Bible through my Quaker lens. And it shows me peace, justice, kindness as the hallmarks of Christian living -- and what it means for me to live Biblically.

A year of living Biblically changed A.J. -- he lived into his Bible-based alter-ego Jacob. And at the end of his year, and after shaving his beard and cutting his hair and going back to chinos and oxford cloth shirts, some of it stuck -- his love for thanks giving and prayer. Reading it changed me, too -- it helped me rethink what I know about the Bible and what I think I know, which parts of the Bible I follow and which I don't (I'll pass on the dietary laws!), and so on. And it reminded me that I need to live Biblically, however I define that, daily -- not just for a year!

Thanks, A.J., or Jacob, or ...

--Brent

Betty Butterfield and the Quakers

O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
from -- "To A Louse: On Seeing One On A Lady's Bonnet, At Church"
Robert Burns, 1786

I was reminded of that thought by Burns recently after receiving an email from my friend Keith. Now Keith is not his real name -- even though that's what I call him, even to his wife -- and for purposes of this post it's probably best I don't use his real name. That's because, unlike me, Keith is highly respected in the religious community of our fair city and I'd hate to do anything that might harm that reputation. But he is sort of a smart-aleck -- or oworse. And in that spirit he sent me a link to the video that follows -- the religious adventures of Betty Butterefield. Betty is on a search for the right church, and as Keith told me via the miracle of email, she visited the Quakers.

Now my faithful reader (whoever she/he is) probably knows that I'm pretty sure Quakers are the final revelation and true branch of Christianity. Well, I'm not quite that extreme, but I think we've got a good thing going -- when we get it right. And then Betty, talking about Quakers during her discourse on visiting the Unitarians, made me think. And, in spite of her satire, to see ourselves as others see us.

If you're of some other species of Christian (or other faith even) or are just ready for some craziness, you can check out more Betty on YouTube or her site at http://www.bohnsplace.com/betty_butterfield/

-- Brent

Smoking and the Cross...

Life is strange -- and sometimes it's stranger than at others. Like this afternoon. Nancy and I drove into town to attend some friends' 60th anniversary celebration. Of course, not a card was to be found around the farm, so we had to stop and buy one. Rather, I had to stop and Nancy had to buy the card -- she doesn't trust me to always get something appropriate!

So while she went in to get the card, I sat in the car and read the mail that we'd just picked up. The usual -- credit card offers, mortgage offers, pleas for money. A beat up old Chevy pulled in next to me. The driver was smoking a bedraggled cigarette clasped in his teeth by a cigarette holder. Franklin Roosevelt-elegant he was not. After a few seconds, he yanked the smoking butt from the holder, rolled down his window, and flicked it toward our car. It rolled into a puddle and sizzled out. Then he climbed out of his car and made his way toward the drugstore.

I was peeved. I mean, I don't care if the guy smokes. That's his business. But if doesn't want to stink up his car with a smoldering butt, why's he think I'd want it in the parking lot next to mine? Littering. What a clueless bozo! Shaking my head, I watched him amble across the parking lot headed for the door. As he approached the front of the store, he paused at the back of a vacant van parked there. It's been a rainy, gloomy day here, and the back-end of the van was covered in road dirt. The man paused and drew a cross in the dirt. He admired his handiwork and headed into the store.

I was more than bemused. This doofus litters and then makes the sign of the cross on other peoples' dirty vehicles. What in Heaven's name? And then I thought -- indeed, what in Heaven's name ... does Brent do that's just as goofy and never sees himself? Too much, I'm afraid. I try not to litter and I don't make the sign of the cross or fish or anything else on other people's cars, but I'm sure my sins could find me out just easily in the eyes of people watching me.

So thanks for the lesson, Mr. Cigarette Smoking, Litterbugging, Cross-drawing Guy.

--Brent

PS If you haven't been to that amazing website http://www.brentbill.com/ in a while, you might check it out -- especially the "Other Good Books" and the "Brent's Books and More Store" pages. Both have been updated and all the books, CDs, and DVDs in the store have been hand-picked by your's truly -- no automated stuff from Amazon!