Hello, Imonks, and welcome to the weekend. Ready to Ramble?
Of course the big news in religion this week was the release of a new Pew study on American religion. However, Mike Bell had a post about that yesterday and will have another one next Friday, so I will leave that in his capable hands. I do, however, need to pass along one interesting and related graph:
Seven years ago I published the following graph from data that I have derived from the Pew Forum’s Religious Landscape Study. It shows how people in America have changed over their lifetime from their childhood faith to their current faith. Click on the image to see it full size graph. In the full size image each pixel width represents one tenth of one percent of Americans.
Well, this week the 2014 numbers were released. I was hoping to have the new graph with commentary up today. However, this time I have a much more detailed breakdown of the “other” categories, and it will take me a little while to finish it. Along with the Unaffiliated (labeled None in the graph), the Catholics, Evangelicals, Mainline, and Historical Black Protestant traditions, we will have additional lines for the Orthodox, Jehovah’s Witness, Mormon, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, and Buddhist faiths. When it comes to the five largest groups, the changes from the way things looked in 2007 are so stunning that I thought I would give you a preview of my work done so far. Let me know your thoughts on what you are seeing in these changes (the legend is the same) and I will compile some of the better comments into the post for next Friday. By then I will have the completed graph along with my own commentary.
I was baptized as an infant in 1958. My sainted grandmother gave me some books then and in my preschool years about Jesus, heaven, and the twelve disciples. A while back, when my parents moved, my mother found those books and gave them to me again. I remember looking through them with fascination when I was a little boy and, in combination with my grandmother’s prayers, I’m sure they had an influence on me. I can say that I am here today as a Christian and a minister because of God’s gifts of water, words about Jesus, and the faithful prayers of those who loved and nurtured me.
Last Sunday, two of my grandchildren were baptized. One is now twelve years old and his little sister has been in this world only a few months. After they were baptized, the pastors put the baby in my grandson’s arms and he walked up and down the aisle of the church while the congregation sang a song of blessing upon them. At an open house later, I gave my grandson a present. When he unwrapped his gift he found the three books my grandmother had given me almost sixty years ago. I told him I was entrusting them to him and that he should take such good care of them that he can one day pass them on to his grandchildren.
May my prayers for him and all my grandchildren be as faithful and loving as my grandmother’s were for me. May God’s gift of water, words about Jesus, and such prayers cover them with blessings for all their years.
Among Martin Luther’s greatest contributions is lifting up what Evangelical Lutheran Worship calls “the baptismal life” — a baptismal spirituality, or even a baptismal way of living. From a Lutheran perspective, this washing with water in the name of the triune God among the gathered Christian assembly is at the center of one’s whole life as a Christian. We might describe baptism as the wellspring from which the entire Christian life flows. Jesus’ words to the woman at the well in John 4:14, promising a “spring of water gushing up to eternal life,” are often applied to baptism. This spring gushes up from the font, where, as Romans 6 assures us, we are liberated from sin and death by being joined to Jesus’ death and resurrection. From the font, God’s spring of living water flows freely and powerfully throughout the gathered assembly, its ripples extending into every day of the Christian’s life. The streams of the baptismal spring include nurture, formation, initiation, return, affirmation, vocation, remembrance, and, ultimately, the completion of God’s promise in the life to come, when the wellspring of baptism overflows in new life.
• Dennis L. Bushkofsky, Craig A. Satterlee
The Christian Life: Baptism and Life Passages
Though the Lutheran liturgy was not followed in last Sunday’s baptism, I couldn’t help but think of it as I stood there watching. There are several different, though similar forms, and here is one of them:
Blessed are you, O God, maker and ruler of all things. Your voice thundered over the waters at creation. You water the mountains and send springs into the valleys to refresh and satisfy all living things.
Through the waters of the flood you carried those in the ark to safety. Through the sea you led your people Israel from slavery to freedom. In the wilderness you nourished them with water from the rock, and you brought them across the river Jordan to the promised land.
By the baptism of his death and resurrection, your Son Jesus has carried us to safety and freedom. The floods shall not overwhelm us, and the deep shall not swallow us up, for Christ has brought us over to the land of promise. He sends us to make disciples, baptizing in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Pour out your Holy Spirit; wash away sin in this cleansing water; clothe the baptized with Christ; and claim your daughters and sons, no longer slave and free, no longer male and female, but one with all the baptized in Christ Jesus, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
Amen.
This is one of my favorite texts recited in worship. I love how these words trace the life-giving, life-sustaining power of water throughout the scriptures. God saves us in and through the waters, “by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior” (Titus 3:5-6).
A few days before the service, I had a conversation with my grandson about the meaning of baptism, and we talked about why we use water in the ceremony. First, I reminded him about how when you take a bath or shower, the water rinses you clean. In the same way God washes our hearts clean, forgiving and renewing us in Jesus. Second, since he had just experienced the birth of a baby sister in his home, I asked him if he remembered how he had been there the night his mama’s water broke and then she went to the hospital and had the baby. I told him how mothers carry babies in their wombs in a sac of water and that when that water flows it signals a new life coming into the world. Even so, in baptism, the water flows over us and we are born into God’s family.
I suppose I will keep trying to think of ways to talk to him and my other grandchildren in years to come about how God’s gift of water sustains us, refreshes us, renews us, and keeps on cleansing us throughout our earthly journey.
We never outgrow our need for water. And, as Wendell Berry says, “It survives our thirst.” God’s provision is always there, always greater than our need. May all the baptized keep coming back to the well for more.
We are also aware, however, that in this groaning world many live in dry or polluted places, where access to clean water is a problem. May the baptized lead the way in working to quench their thirst and heal their lands.
And may we all help each other, that we may keep “returning to [God’s] rich waters thirsty.”
Like the water
of a deep stream,
love is always too much.
We did not make it.
Though we drink till we burst,
we cannot have it all,
or want it all.
In its abundance
it survives our thirst.
In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill,
and sleep,
while it flows
through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us,
except we keep returning to its rich waters
thirsty.
We enter,
willing to die,
into the commonwealth of its joy.
• Wendell Berry
“Like the Water”
First posted in July, 2013.
• • •
Hello. My name is Mike, and I am afraid.
I am afraid of life, and I am afraid of life’s end. I am afraid of being alone, and I am afraid of being with people. I am afraid of hatred and I am afraid of love. Truth and beauty frighten me even as I delight in them. I especially fear pain, loss, unbearable sorrow, and death itself.
It has taken me years to realize how afraid I am, and I’m sure I still don’t know.
I do not always feel this fear, mind you. It is not as though I am consciously obsessed with it or paralyzed by it.
But the fear is there and I know it. Every once in awhile, it pokes its head around the corner and startles me.
Continue reading “Another Look: If you are not afraid, you are not human”
Commencement speeches are usually fairly banal and unmemorable, but people are buzzing about one First Lady Michelle Obama gave at Tuskegee University last Saturday. After reviewing the history of the Tuskegee Airmen and the university for which “Booker T. Washington pawned his pocket watch to buy a kiln, and students used their bare hands to make bricks to build,” she turned to her own story of some of the perceptions about her as a black First Lady, and then challenged the students to follow the example of those who have walked a difficult road to build up their lives and their communities.
The other day, at the end of our discussion of “Jesus as the New Adam,” Mike H. wrote, “I get that the focus here is on vocation, but I have a tough time not looking at theodicy. It’s the elephant in the room. Is that going to be discussed head on?”
After posting Ron Rolheiser’s essay this morning, I thought it would be a good time to have a discussion about this subject. Theodicy — here are a few descriptions, definitions, and thoughts about it:
Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? (Psalm 10:1)
Why should the nations say, “Where is their God?” (Psalm 115:2)
From the Catholic Encyclopedia: “Etymologically considered theodicy (theos dike) signifies the justification of God. The term was introduced into philosophy by Leibniz, who, in 1710, published a work entitled: “Essais de Théodicée sur la bonté de Dieu, la liberté de l’homme et l’origine du mal”. The purpose of the essay was to show that the evil in the world does not conflict with the goodness of God, that, indeed, notwithstanding its many evils, the world is the best of all possible worlds.”
From Encyclopedia Brittanica: “Theodicy, (from Greek theos, “god”; dikē, “justice”), explanation of why a perfectly good, almighty, and all-knowing God permits evil. The term literally means “justifying God.” Although many forms of theodicy have been proposed, some Christian thinkers have rejected as impious any attempt to fathom God’s purposes or to judge God’s actions by human standards. Others, drawing a distinction between a theodicy and a more limited “defense,” have sought to show only that the existence of some evil in the world is logically compatible with God’s omnipotence and perfect goodness. Theodicies and defenses are two forms of response to what is known in theology and philosophy as the problem of evil.”
You can read Leibniz, “Theodicy: Essays on the Goodness of God, the Freedom of Man, and the Origin of Evil” at Project Gutenberg. Here is his stated objective with regard to “the origin of evil” (emphasis mine):
“Likewise concerning the origin of evil in its relation to God, I offer a vindication of his perfections that shall extol not less his holiness, his justice and his goodness than his greatness, his power and his independence. I show how it is possible for everything to depend upon God, for him to co-operate in all the actions of creatures, even, if you will, to create these creatures continually, and nevertheless not to be the author of sin. Here also it is demonstrated how the privative nature of evil should be understood. Much more than that, I explain how evil has a source other than the will of God, and that one is right therefore to say of moral evil that God wills it not, but simply permits it. Most important of all, however, I show that it has been possible for God to permit sin and misery, and even to co-operate therein and promote it, without detriment to his holiness and his supreme goodness: although, generally speaking, he could have avoided all these evils.”
Leibniz conclusion was that God had created “the best of all possible worlds.” Here is how Wikipedia summarizes his perspective: “Leibniz’ solution casts God as a kind of “optimizer” of the collection of all original possibilities: Since He is good and omnipotent, and since He chose this world out of all possibilities, this world must be good—in fact, this world is the best of all possible worlds.”
This brief summary says to me that theodicy is primarily a philosophical problem, and therefore an apologetic issue for Christians and other religions. I do not think it is necessarily or evidently a biblical problem. That is, the writers of the Bible did not spend a lot of time exploring the origin of evil or trying to reconcile God’s character with the existence of evil and suffering in the world.
The other day I quoted from an article by Fr. Ronald Rolheiser. I was so impressed by what he said, even though it was stated simply and briefly in a blog post, that I wrote for permission to re-post the piece in its entirety here at Internet Monk. Because I quoted from this and used its ideas last week, I will refrain from any further comments at this point, and we will have another post this afternoon to complement it.
• • •
Evolution’s Ultimate Wisdom
by Fr. Ronald Rolheiser
Evolution, Charles Darwin famously stated, works through the survival of the fittest. Christianity, on the other hand, is committed to the survival of the weakest. But how do we square our Christian ideal of making a preferential option for the weak with evolution?
Nature is evolutionary and, inside of that, we can perceive a wisdom that clearly manifests intelligence, intent, spirit, and design. And perhaps nowhere is this more evident than how in the process of evolution we see nature becoming ever-more unified, complex, and conscious.
However, how God’s intelligence and intent are reflected inside of that is not always evident because nature can be so cruel and brutal. In order to survive, every element in nature has to be cannibalistic and eat other parts of nature. Only the fittest get to survive. There’s a harsh cruelty in that. In highlighting how cruel and unfair nature can be, commentators often cite the example of the second pelican born to white pelicans. Here’s how cruel and unfair is its situation:
Female white pelicans normally lay two eggs, but they lay them several days apart so that the first chick hatches several days before the second chick. This gives the first chick a head-start and by the time the second chick hatches, the first chick is bigger and stronger. It then acts aggressively towards the second chick, grabbing its food and pushing it out of the nest. There, ignored by its mother, the second chick normal dies of starvation, despite its efforts to find its way back into the nest. Only one in ten second chicks survives. And here’s nature’s cruel logic in this: That second chick is hatched by nature as an insurance-policy, in case the first chick is weak or dies. Barring that, it is doomed to die, ostracized, hungry, blindly grasping for food and its mother’s attention as it starves to death. But this cruelty works as an evolutionary strategy. White pelicans have survived for thirty million years, but at the cost of millions of its own species dying cruelly.
A certain intelligence is certainly evident in this, but where is the compassion? Did a compassionate God really design this? The intelligence in nature’s strategy of the survival of the fittest is clear. Each species, unless unnaturally interfered with from the outside, is forever producing healthier, more robust, more adaptable members. Such, it seems, is nature’s wisdom and design – up to a point.
Certain scientists such as Pierre Teilhard de Chardin suggest that physical evolution has reached its apex, its highest degree of unity, complexity and consciousness, inside the central nervous system and brain of the human person and that evolution has now taken a leap (just as it did when consciousness leapt out of raw biology and as it did when self- consciousness leapt out of simple consciousness) so that now meaningful evolution is no longer about gaining further physical strength and adaptability. Rather meaningful evolution is now concerned with the social and the spiritual, that is, with social and spiritual strength.
And in a Christian understanding of things, this means that meaningful evolution is now about human beings using their self-consciousness to turn back and help nature to protect and nurture its second pelicans. Meaningful evolution now is no longer about having the strong grow stronger, but about having the weak, that part of nature that nature herself, to this point, has not been able to nurture, grow strong.
Why? What’s nature’s interest in the weak? Why shouldn’t nature be happy to have the weak weeded out? Does God have an interest in the weak that nature does not?
No, nature too is very interested in the survival of the weak and is calling upon the help of human beings to bring this about. Nature is interested in the survival of the weak because vulnerability and weakness bring something to nature that is absent when it is only concerned with the survival of the fittest and with producing ever-stronger, more robust, and more adaptable species and individuals. What the weak add to nature are character and compassion, which are the central ingredients needed to bring about unity, complexity, and consciousness at the social and spiritual level.
When God created human beings at the beginning of time, God charged them with the responsibility of “dominion”, of ruling over nature. What’s contained in that mandate is not an order or permission to dominate over nature and use nature in whatever fashion we desire. The mandate is rather that of “watching over”, of tending the garden, of being wise stewards, and of helping nature do things that, in its unconscious state, it cannot do, namely, protect and nurture the weak, the second pelicans.
The second-century theologian, Irenaeus, once famously said: The glory of God is the human being fully alive! In our own time, Gustavo Gutierrez, generally credited with being the father of Liberation Theology, recast that dictum to say: The glory of God is the poor person fully alive!” And that is as well the ultimate glory of nature.
• • •
Used with permission of the author, Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser. Currently, Father Rolheiser is serving as President of the Oblate School of Theology in San Antonio Texas. He can be contacted through his website, www.ronrolheiser.com. Facebook www.facebook.com/ronrolheiser
The crowd at the ball game
is moved uniformly
by a spirit of uselessness
which delights them,
all the exciting detail
of the chase
and the escape, the error
the flash of genius,
all to no end save beauty
the eternal –
• William Carlos Williams
“The Crowd At The Baseball Game”
• • •
Monday morning, as we finished preparing for our district tournament game and prepared to load our equipment on the bus, I had several of the boys take the pitching machine out of the batting cage, and take it upstairs to winter storage. Every spring, bringing the pitching machine out of storage and into the cage marks the beginning of baseball season. As they took it up the stairs, they were quiet, pallbearers taking this symbol of our spring and our baseball season into the tomb for months of slumber, awaiting the resurrection on another day.
…Three years ago, I realized my soul was empty, and I had abundant evidence that religion wasn’t filling it up. I felt old and cornered by my failures, a dangerous feeling for a man in his middle forties. My faith speaks of rebirth, but sinking myself back into more books and spiritual disciplines was not going to meet this emptiness. God needed to be somewhere other than a church. Somehow, my mind returned to baseball; to the memories of the past, and to the lost days I would have spent playing ball if my father hadn’t been depressed and afraid.
I began going to our school games. That year, our team was exceptional, so it wasn’t hard to become a fan again. So much so that, the next year, I told the coach that I would be willing to be at all the games if he needed me in any capacity. From that came two years in the dugout and on the field as an assistant coach. Taking the pitching machine back to its resting place reminded me of these two good years, what I have learned, and God’s mercy.
Baseball is a place to lose yourself and find yourself. It is very generous with its fans. Those who know little and those who know too much can enjoy the same game. Everyone is a coach, a pitcher and a batter. The game flows through its players and fans at a pace the old and the young can tolerate. (Shame on those trying to speed the game up or make it feel like two hours of television. It is the quietness and slowness of baseball that allows so many of us to watch and become part of the game. This isn’t NASCAR.)
Baseball has a past that comes to every game. We walk in it, and feel it surrounding us. The great players hover over every field. The named and nameless memories of the elite visit every ballpark, hum alongside every pitch and shout with every stroke of the bat. The umpire’s calls and the managers’ quiet intensity all take us into the past of the game. All that is new and news recedes for a few moments, and only the ball, the field, the players and the game remain, like an island in the river of time.
Baseball constantly relives it’s past. It is rebirth. It takes all of us to our own past. It takes us to all that is unfinished, and less than perfect, and gives us another at bat; another inning; another game. Baseball is a sacramental moment, as we approach the perfection of the game. Two teams will reach for that perfection. In singular moments, the perfection will exist in a swing, or a pitch or a catch. But both teams will fall short of that perfect and eternal inning. One of baseball’s wonderful qualities is that our imperfection does not discourage us from playing again. We return from each defeat, from every out, from our errors and mistakes, with hope again alive in our hearts.
There is a liturgy and a rhythm to baseball. It is a liturgy of words and rules, but mostly of lines, numbers, repetitions and form. The pitcher moves in forms as ancient as the priest. The uniforms are old, and the chatter from the field and the dugout is a language that makes little sense off the field. There is devotion to the game, and honor for the players. It elevates us.
For those of us who are old, to be near baseball is to be tantalizingly close to your boyhood. We stand in the dirt, dust, lines and grass as we did when we were boys. We long to pick up the bat, to throw the ball. Within the confines of the park it seems possible to return to the moment of hitting a single or catching hard-hit shot to the third base line. Time-travel is not possible, of course, and I have little appreciation for those exercises in silliness called “fantasy camps.” But I believe that returning to the game as a fan, or a coach, has a special unction; a kind of power to make youth and old age momentarily irrelevant.
So we put away the pitching machine, and I said good-bye to the boys. I do not know much about my plans for the future- only this: I will return to the ballpark, and to baseball. I will return as often as I can until I am too old to go. It has done me much good, because there is something good in it. Something that cannot be ruined by the professionals as long as there are boys walking onto a field of dreams and memories, to lose and find themselves again in the mystery of seeking an inning that never ends.
Hello, imonks, and welcome to the weekend. Ready to Ramble?
The Evangelical Christian Publisher Association gave out their book awards this week. And what won Book of the Year? The Daniel Plan, by Rick Warren. Yes, this is a diet and fitness book, based on the vegetable diet the Prophet Daniel and his companions underwent, because, ya know, Daniel was totally doing this for weight-loss reasons. The web site offers an inspirational workout music CD, a DVD that demonstrates his “comprehensive fitness system based on God’s power, not just will power,” and “The Daniel Plan Cookbook.” Also available: Daniel-Plan branded shirts, sports bags, sports towels, and water bottles. Oh, and did I mention the six-week church campaign? It includes, “six small-group video sessions, access to Daniel Plan sermon downloads, Starter Guide, Leader Guide, and all the materials needed to launch and sustain a whole church campaign.” Hey Chaplain Mike? Who says us Evangelicals don’t honor the Church Year?
Really, how large can the world’s largest rabbit actually be?
Last Friday I asked my son if he was interested in the Pacquiao versus Mayweather fight.
“Why would I be interested”, he replied. “On one hand you have a guy who uses his position and prominence to put down gay rights and on the other hand you have a serial sexual abuser. Who would I cheer for? I have no interest at all in watching this fight, or in watching boxing in general.”
A few hours later it struck me. I have heard exactly the same thing from young people who don’t have any interest in Christianity. The things I hear complained about most often? The anti-gay agenda of the Evangelical right, and the sexual abuse scandals of the Roman Catholic church.
The parallels don’t end there. Boxing, was once a much talked about sport, Ali, Frazier, Foreman, Hagler, Leanord, and Hearns were all household words. Now the sport is in serious decline, and other than the recently hyped fight is barely on anyone’s radar. Christianity has followed a similar path. There may be pockets where it is doing well, but by many it is deemed objectionable or perhaps even worse, irrelevant.
Perhaps I am not being fair to either Boxing or Christianity. There are of course many Christians doing many wonderful things. There are many other types of churches from which to choose. However, for many, perception is reality. If I perceive church to be irrelevant then that becomes my reality.
We shared similar thoughts from Michael Spencer last Sunday:
I recently read an article in the London Times. Seems the Church of England is trying to find ways to tap into the spiritual interests of England’s church-abandoning younger generations. After extensive research, the conclusions were not at all the expected.
There was little interest in God at all. There was little interest in heaven, spiritual matters, or even life after death. What was meaningful to the young people interviewed was life, family, love, work, relationships and the enjoyment of this world. They were comfortably, happily attuned to this world. Spiritual tattoos aside, they had little thought of much beyond what their senses or experiences presented to them.
In other words, Augustine’s famous “God-shaped void” didn’t make its expected appearance in anything near the numbers expected. Those with interest in some aspect of non-Christian, alternative spiritualities were often simply engaging in the enjoyment and exploration of culture, social groups, symbolism, trends and/or their own this-worldly curiosity and preferences.
So what do we do about this? Michael continued by writing this:
Today’s young people are bored with God. They are not “seeking” God at all, but are living on the hardened surface of a fallen human experience, seeking to make sense of what is incomprehensible apart from Christ. We cannot “create” interest apart from the work of the Spirit. Our calling to be witnesses is not to approach the world like cattle to be herded, but as persons to be loved in the way God loves this fallen world through Jesus Christ. We live in a generation and time dead to God and alive to entertainment and a consumer mythology that promises and delivers meaning through stimulation and amusement.
Christ has become the servant and savior of such a world. We live in that world, fully human, fallen, redeemed, rescued, living and hoping in the new creation. How do we speak of these things? It’s a question we must keep answering fearlessly.
A friend posted a series of statements on Facebook today. Number 3 was: “It is possible to follow Jesus and demand equality for LGBTQ people.” I responded with the question: “Is it possible to follow Jesus and NOT demand equality for LGBTQ people.” Based on conversations I have had with young people I would take that one step further: You are pushing people away from Christ when you make anti-gay statements in public or on social media. You push people away from Christ when the culture wars become more important than Christ himself.
I probably had the most meaningful spiritual conversation with my 14 year old daughter today that I have had in the past several years. It all started with her asking me a question about Bruce Jenner. I answered with words that treated Jenner with respect and that allowed the conversation to progress into different areas.
I struggle to understand this whole area. I find it hard to reconcile my high view of scripture, my belief system, with the world around me. The more I study, the more I struggle to understand. How are we to understand Scripture that seems so out of place in our society. Are the texts about Homosexuality going to go the same way as the text about stoning a rebellious son? On what basis? How do we decide? As usual your thoughts and comments are welcome.
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