The Internet Monk Archives

Ash Wednesday with Father Flynn

“It was a time of people sitting together, bound together by a common feeling of hopelessness. But think of that! Your bond with your fellow being was your despair. It was a public experience; it was awful. But we were in it together.

“…When you are lost, you are not alone.”

– from “Doubt”
(Listen to sermon below)

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By overwhelming consensus it is agreed that we lost one of our generation’s greatest actors when Philip Seymour Hoffman died recently of acute mixed drug intoxication. A “character” actor par excellence, he was renowned for fully inhabiting the roles of flawed and troubled people. A.O. Scott of the NY Times said of Hoffman, “He may have specialized in unhappiness, but you were always glad to see him.”

Anthony Lane’s remarkable retrospective in the New Yorker notes how he was able to play both sincere and insincere at the same time, expressing “both unfeigned outrage and calculated conceit.” Philip Seymour Hoffman knew how to “make a scene,” simultaneously pointing to the truth while making sure we took notice of him. He got our attention. Of his extraordinary voice, Lane writes, “such were the gravelled depths of his voice that he often gave the impression, even in company, of murmuring to himself, as though submerged regrets and grievances were ready to overflow.”

I am not going to comment on his death, yet another sad example of “the needle and the damage done.” I trust the Judge of all the earth to do justly (Gen. 18:25).

One of my favorite PSH performances was that of Father Flynn in Doubt, the story of a Bronx Roman Catholic parish in which a progressive priest, a rigid, tradition-bound nun, and a young teacher caught between them deal with an ambiguous situation: did the priest have an improper relationship with a young student, the first black child in the parochial school?

This movie and Hoffman’s performance are a perfect introduction to the ambiguities of Lent, which begins today on this Ash Wednesday 2014. NPR critic Bob Mondello, in a review of “Doubt,” observed how the film not only captures the moral fogginess of a situation in which there is no evidence and no witnesses but only suspicion, it also contrasts two ways of facing moral questions — an older way of moral certainty and a more contemporary, more complex and nuanced approach. “Doubt,” Mondello writes, sets forth the “notion that the old ways…were intolerant, even monstrous. But the espousers of the new are damaged, compromised and not necessarily better guides to morality. Our elders are disasters, [this movie says], and so are we. Now what are we going to do about our children?”

On Ash Wednesday and throughout the days of Lent, we come together and confess with the Psalmist: “We have sinned—right along with our ancestors” (Ps. 106:6, CEB).

Amid our losses, our despair, and our doubts, we come forward on Ash Wednesday as God’s people to receive that which marks us, in Father Flynn’s words, as lost but not alone.

When “Christian” Teaching Enables Abuse of Power

As Bill Gothard comes under increasing scrutiny for his personal behavior, some are beginning to talk about how his teachings enable and encourage such behavior. Case in point: Wade Burleson has written an excellent piece called, “Bill Gothard: His Umbrella of Protection Teaching Provides an Umbrage for Perverted Behavior.“

Burleson has been a strong voice warning the church that “the major problem with American evangelicalism is an infatuation with spiritual authority.” I encourage you to read Wade’s blog for his incisive perspectives and critiques. You can find it in our blogroll for regular access.

Back to Gothard, Burleson, who has a long personal and family history with Gothard and his organization, finds his teaching on the “umbrella of protection” the most worrisome of his teachings. He quotes Bill Gothard:

By honoring and submitting to all authorities in your life, you will receive the privileges of their protection, direction, and accountability. If you resist their instructions and move out from their jurisdictional care, you forfeit your place under their protection and face life’s challenges and temptations on your own.

Furthermore, Gothard teaches that this is rebellion, akin to witchcraft (1Sam 15:23), moves the person out from under the protection of the “umbrella” and leaves him or her exposed to Satan’s attacks. Burleson notes that Gothard takes this to the point where such a person is subject to God’s judgment. Wade Burleson comments:

I would propose to you that any Christian who constantly vocalizes his “authority” over you and demands your submission to him for “your umbrella of protection,” is actually a man who casts a large shadow in terms of his own perverted and immoral behavior. In other words, he who is most concerned that another person “obey” and “submit” to his authority is actually showing indicators of personal moral failure.

Then, after reviewing evidence of the personal moral failure that is now piling up against Bill Gothard at sites such as Recovering Grace and Redemption Pictures, Burleson observes:

How ironic. Those Gothard sought to keep in the shadow of his umbrella of authority are the very ones who have come out into the sunlight to expose his perversity.

I’ve been saying this more and more lately: with today’s media culture, churches and Christian organizations are not going to be able to hide their foolishness and abuses any longer. The people of the light, and especially those leaders who “shepherd” them from dark thrones will finally be subject to the light they claim to represent.

iMonk Classic: Looking For An Exit From The Journey With Jesus

First published in March 2009

Many of his disciples said, “This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?”

Jesus was aware that his disciples were complaining, so he said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what will you think if you see the Son of Man ascend to heaven again? The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But some of you do not believe me.” (For Jesus knew from the beginning which ones didn’t believe, and he knew who would betray him.) Then he said, “That is why I said that people can’t come to me unless the Father gives them to me.”

At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him. Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?”

Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.

– John 6:60-69, NLT

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Have you ever come to a place where you wanted to say, “Let me off. I’m done?”

Maybe you were in a car with an 88 year old driver who shouldn’t have been driving anywhere, much less down an interstate.

Maybe you were about to get on an amusement park ride that you really didn’t want to ride.

Maybe you were going back for week two of a job that was not at all what you thought it would be.

You said to yourself- or to anyone else who would listen- “I think it’s time for me to quit.”

After listening to Jesus give what may have been his most intense, challenging and disturbing talk, it seems that some of Jesus’ disciples were ready to quit. “Eat my flesh and drink my blood” was their place to get off the bus.

We tend to think of the people who followed Jesus as an “easy sell.” They were sitting around, doing nothing, just waiting for a prophet or rabbi to show up so they could spend years following him. Like eager customers at a car dealership, they were ready to buy from minute one and never doubted.

I doubt that such a scenario is true. It’s more likely that many days ended with some of the disciples saying “I’ve had enough. I’m going home.” I imagine many late nights around the campfire were punctuated with one disciple talking another out of leaving, or arguments that ended in departures the next morning.

Continue reading “iMonk Classic: Looking For An Exit From The Journey With Jesus”

Outside the Camp

Expulsion of Ishmael and His Mother, Dore

What I think I’m looking for and not finding is something that will give me hope. At this point, I won’t be persuaded by guilt or by empty platitudes. “You just need to do it because it’s what we all need to do” just isn’t cutting it. Having people tell me that it’s a broken place and I shouldn’t expect anything else from a group of flawed human beings doesn’t make me want to run for the entrance of the nearest church.

– The Other Side of the Donald Miller Post: Church PTSD
Anonymous post on Jesus Creed

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One of the men who was formative in my spiritual development used to apply Hebrews 13:12-13 to the church of our day:

And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood. Let us, then, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore.

He had been a pastor, but found he could not function as he thought he was called to do within the structure of congregational ministry. So he went “outside the camp” and started his own ministry. I remember him emphasizing the theme of “the remnant” a lot in those days. Like a modern day representative of early monasticism, he had come to see the churches as inherently corrupt. Therefore, he sought ministry elsewhere, and often encouraged others to follow him away from the status quo.

Exegetically speaking, I don’t think my friend was on the mark when he used this text to frame his own story and encourage people to leave their congregations. Also, I know far too many examples where this kind of thinking went terribly wrong. Nevertheless, the image of going “outside the camp” is striking, so if one extracts the metaphor from its biblical context and simply uses it on its own, I think it can be useful.

Going “outside the camp” means leaving the community and taking one’s place on the margins. It means being cut off from full participation in that community. It means becoming an outsider and likely having to bear criticism from those who find it hard to understand why anyone would separate from the fellowship. It signifies going into the wilderness, becoming an exile, being cut off from the life of the community.

There are many reasons people find themselves “outside the camp” or, as we like to say here at Internet Monk, “in the wilderness.” The woman quoted above said the way she and her husband were treated in churches where he served left her with something “akin to PTSD.” She has not, up to this point, found anything in church culture to give her hope that she can return and find a safe, healthy place in which to grow and serve. So she remains “outside the camp.”

I’d love to hear what her husband, who served in three church ministry positions, might say on this subject. I’ve had some personal experience here, and out of that I expect he would lament losing at least a portion of his identity. And then there is this question: what does someone who has been affirmed as being “called to ministry” think about the subject of vocation when his experiences in ministry devastate him and his family? It can get awfully confusing. Sometimes it gets desperate, when you need to find gainful employment out there in the wilderness.

I was one of the lucky ones in this regard. When I left the pastorate, a friend recommended me for a hospice chaplain position, and it may very well be that I discovered my true vocational calling outside of congregational ministry. At the same time, however, I have continued to remain confused about what my relationship with the local church should be, how it should look, and in what ways I should participate. In this past decade I have often found myself in the bizarre position of being a minister in my chaplaincy work yet remaining “outside the camp” in my comfort level with regard to a congregation.

Today, I want to encourage those of you who find yourselves in wilderness places, separated in one way or another from active church life. You are not alone. You are not crazy. You are not without God and without hope.

The story of Hagar and Ishmael in Genesis 21:8-21 reminds me that God hears the cries of those who wander in the wilderness “outside the camp.” He has promises for you, too. Don’t give up. Please.

Saturday Ramblings, March 1, 2014

Hello, fellow imonkers. Many thanks to Adam Palmer for pinch-hitting for me last week as I escaped the Midwest tundra for a week in Arizona to visit family. I hate family fights, and am therefore happy to report I successfully dodged all attempts to argue over the proposed Arizona Religious Freedom bill (vetoed on Wednesday by the governor). If you want to read the post-mortem, here is a pretty good take. And you are welcome to argue the merits of the bill. I may even join in the argument since you’re not family.

It would be easy to fill this column every week with stories about gay marriage and the controversy thereof. I try to avoid them, just because of the over-exposure, and, quite frankly, because I am stinking tired of this debate being center stage in discussion of religion and society. But this caught my eye: Among those who say they left their childhood religion and now have no religious identity, nearly one in four (24 percent) say their church’s negative teachings or treatment of LGBT people was an important reason they left. That rises to 31 percent of millennials, damaging churches’ ability to bring in — and keep — young adults…

What do Hasidic Jews, hipsters, and transgender men have in common?

If I remember right, Jeff Dunn linked to the 35 ugliest churches in the world (in 35 web pages, arghh). One of them, perhaps the champion, is coming down, much to the relief of its dwindling congregation.

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings, March 1, 2014”

What is Church?

Chaplain Mike declared in a previous post that he was a Liturgical Christian. I cannot say the same for myself. While I have a lot of respect for liturgical and sacramental traditions, my own significant spiritual growth did not come in a liturgical church setting. In fact, you could argue that it did not even come in a church setting.

Here is my question. What do you call a group of believers who live together, eat together, worship together, pray together, are ministered to from the Word together, study the Word together, do works of service together, laugh together, cry together, care deeply for each other, and add to their number on a regular basis?

For me, for four years, this was my Church. For me, it was as real a church, in fact more real of a church, than any other I have ever been in, before or since. Only we weren’t a church. Our leadership said we weren’t a church. Our leaders’ leaders said we weren’t a church. Outsiders said we weren’t a church.

What were we? We were a campus ministry at the University of Western Ontario called Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship.

We didn’t baptize and we didn’t celebrate the Eucharist (except on rare occasion), but in every other way I feel that we were so much more of a church than what we see passing itself off a church these days. One person in our group led his entire residence floor to Christ. Others, including myself, saw friends embrace Jesus for the first time. We weren’t involved in endless theological debates, instead we were focused on being the body of Christ on that campus. I attended other churches during those four years, more out of a sense of duty rather than anything else, but they weren’t my church. My church was on campus, where I was growing in faith surrounded by other Jesus followers, who were, along with me, on a journey of “Jesus shaped spirituality.”

To quote from Douglas Adams’ book Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency:

If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have at least to consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family Anatidae on our hands.

Another Look: Willimon on Jesus – Vagabond, Peacemaker, Storyteller

Note from CM: This week we are focusing on Jesus-shaped spirituality. One thing I am doing is going back and taking a look at some of my favorite authors and books that have helped me know Christ and his way better. Here is one part of a review I did in 2011 of Will Willimon’s fine volume about Jesus.

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Will Willimon’s excellent book, Why Jesus?, is an extended meditation on the person and work of Jesus Christ as revealed to us in the Gospels.

Taken together, allowed to speak with their delightful peculiarities, these earliest witnesses to Jesus give us a trustworthy, irreplaceable rendition of him, the most interesting person in the world. We must meet Jesus as presented by his first followers, or we meet him not at all. (WJ, xii)

The author invites us, as Jesus himself did, to “come and see — to take a contemplative journey along the dusty roads of Galilee and Judea with the One who came proclaiming God’s Kingdom and demonstrating its power by his words and actions.

Tonight, let’s consider him whom Willimon calls “Vagabond,” “Peacemaker,” and “Storyteller.”

Jesus the Vagabond
The first characteristic of Jesus that impresses Will Willimon is his activity. Jesus is God in motion, ever on a journey, a Man on a mission. Except for a few chapters in Matthew and Luke, we would know little of the birth and childhood of Jesus. However, all the Gospels are united in presenting “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (Mark 1:1) as commencing with his appearance and baptism under John the Baptizer. That’s when Jesus hit the road. And he never stopped until he sat down at the right hand of his Father.

What the gospels deem important about Jesus is not his family or his youth but rather his embarkation on his ministry, his forward movement, his mission. Breaking like a wave across dusty Galilee, he thunders forth into a captive land — God at highest momentum. God immediately. Anybody who wants to meet Jesus, to understand or be with Jesus, must be willing to relocate. (WJ, 2)

The Gospels portray Jesus as a man on a missional journey, and we are fellow travelers with him. Willimon reminds his readers that this Jesus will not let us sit down in a classroom, thinking that we can know God by memorizing definitions and accepting explanations. He is the Way, and knowing him means following him, learning like breathless children shouting out questions while attempting to keep up with their father’s adult stride.

Also, Jesus was a “vagabond” wanderer — while on his mission he put little stock in the things that make for comfort, and he encouraged us to take a similar view of settling down. He had nowhere to lay his head, and he invites us to roll out our sleeping bags and join him in sleeping under the stars. We travel light. We learn to depend on the kindness and hospitality of others. We practice living with open hands and non-grasping hearts. In Willimon’s memorable words, traveling with the vagabond Jesus teaches us that we have been “created for more than merely present arrangements” (WJ, 9).

Jesus is God on the move. He moves into the world, and toward us in constantly surprising, bewildering ways that pull back the curtains on God’s Realm and give us glimpses of its reality and re-creative power. “Fear not!” he calls to us, and “Follow me!” Like Jesus’ first followers, we “get to know Jesus only by catching some enigmatic whiff of his glory and stumbling after” (WJ, 11)

Continue reading “Another Look: Willimon on Jesus – Vagabond, Peacemaker, Storyteller”

Jesus-Shaped Spirituality: A Eucharistic Life

I am a liturgical Christian. By that I do not mean that I prefer a certain style of worship. Rather, it means that I accept the wisdom of the traditional pattern of worship. I have written about this in a post called, “The Order of Christian Worship.”

The traditional pattern reenacts the drama of the Gospel by focusing on the Lord Jesus Christ through two primary elements: the Word and the Table. It is a meal to which all are invited by God. It is a gathering of God’s family at which we devote ourselves to “the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42).

The liturgical gathering — the Eucharistic service — reflects what happens when people get together for a meal. If my wife and I were invited to dinner, our friends would greet us at the door. As we entered we would say, “Thanks for having us over; it smells wonderful! And I love what you’ve done with your house!” — we would offer words of gratitude and praise. Before dinner was served, we would sit down in the living room or out on the porch and catch up with each other through conversation. Then, summoned to the table, we would enjoy the meal prepared for us. Finally, after more conversation, we would bid them goodnight, saying, “Let’s do this more often. We’ll be in touch.” We go home, our hearts warmed, our special relationship renewed. We are filled with thankfulness for life’s goodness and eager to tell others about our rich experience.

Sharing words and a meal, we give, receive and grow in love. Our life is enriched.

Henri Nouwen has observed that the eucharistic liturgy not only gives life but also shapes our daily lives as followers of Jesus. In his profound book, With Burning Hearts: A Meditation on the Eucharistic Life, Nouwen writes:

This little book is an attempt to speak to myself and to my friends about the Eucharist and to weave a network of connections between the daily celebration of the Eucharist and our daily human experience. We enter every celebration with a contrite heart and pray the Kyrie Eleison. We listen to the Word — the scriptural readings and the homily — we profess our faith, we give to God the fruits of the earth and the work of human hands and receive from God the body and blood of Jesus, and finally we are sent into the world with the task of renewing the face of the earth. The Eucharistic event reveals the deepest human experiences, those of sadness, attentiveness, invitation, intimacy, and engagement. It summarizes the life we are called to live in the Name of God. Only when we recognize the rich network of connections between the Eucharist and our life in the world can the Eucharist be “worldly” and our life “Eucharistic.”

To make his points, Henri Nouwen traces Jesus’ journey with disciples on the Emmaus road (Luke 24), an encounter that follows the pattern of the eucharistic celebration.

What we have here is a pattern of relating to God and others that might well be called “Jesus-shaped.”

Like Jesus’ friends in Emmaus, there is lament, a deep sense of sadness at the injustice of the world and the inability to realize my dreams.

But there is also a divine word, a perspective that comes to me from Another, a Story that catches my attention and imagination, setting forth an alternate interpretation of the “facts on the ground,” awakening hopeful faith.

Then there is grace and communion. I invite this speaking Stranger into my life, into my home. I start to treat him as a guest, but before long I realize that he is at the head of the table, blessing and breaking the bread, feeding me. At once, the guest is no more a stranger. I recognize him as my very life, as Life itself, the Source of all that life means in the world, now and forever.

Finally, there is community and mission. I run to meet others who have received life. I want to hear their stories and tell mine. Then, as a community of life, we reach out to those around us, our neighbors who likewise lament the world’s injustice and the inability to realize their dreams. We tell them of a Stranger who has a divine word for them, who wants to feed them, who wants to be their very life.

This is the liturgical life, the Eucharistic life, the Jesus-shaped life.

Site Update – Feb 25, 2014

As you can see, we are out of Maintenance Mode and back online now.

Unfortunately, we lost a few of our most recent posts in the process of moving to a new web host. I will be working to restore those today. I may not, however, be able to retrieve all of your comments. Sorry about that.

At any rate, give us one more day of tinkering, and we’ll be back up at full strength tomorrow with a new post. Thanks for your patience!

Chaplain Mike

iMonk Classic: What Is Jesus-Shaped Spirituality?

Note from CM: Recently, a reader suggested we reiterate and shore up our understanding of Michael Spencer’s iconic phrase: “Jesus-shaped Spirituality.” Here is Michael’s post from February 2009 in which he outlines its characteristics.

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What Is Jesus-Shaped Spirituality?
A Classic Michael Spencer Post, from Feb. 2009

The past year and a half has been the most personally tumultuous time I’ve ever experienced as a Christian believer. At one time or another in this past year, I have re-evaluated every area of my Christianity, often with many tears, prayers and hours of reading. Much of this has been in response to the questions raised by my recent encounters with Roman Catholicism.

I entitled this adventure “Jesus Shaped Spirituality.” It’s a catchy and provocative label, but I’m not sure I could have come to your church and given a talk on what I meant by the phrase.

Today, I’m at a different place on that journey. I’ve now come to the place that Jesus shaped spirituality has some feel, form and substance for me. I have some confidence and comfort in expressing what I’ve discovered, reaffirmed and began to express to others.

I want to be clear that I am not trying to “return to primitive Christianity” or “reinvent the church.” What I am doing is developing a tool, a grid or filter, to interpret Christianity wherever I encounter it, by asking basic questions about Jesus. If I am going to be faulted, it will be for this: I am determined to be satisfied with nothing short of a Jesus-shaped Christianity, as best I can understand what that means.

This isn’t a staking a claim for a new denomination, but simply an expression of the shape of discovering, knowing and following Jesus as the one who reveals both the Father and the shape of human experience.

What does Jesus-shaped spirituality look like?

1) It is a spirituality rooted in the Biblical story. It is a spirituality that grows up in the narrative of the Bible and within the categories of the Biblical worldview. Most particularly, it is a spirituality of the Biblical story that is finally and completely about Jesus and understood in Jesus.

2) It is a spirituality where God comes to all people: in Jesus, through the incarnation, the Gospel, Scripture and the work of the Holy Spirit.

3) It is a spirituality where God is available, immediately, through the mediation of Jesus, to all people, in the power of the Spirit as revealed in the Gospel.

4) It is a spirituality where Jesus is the ultimate sacrament, and all sacraments are visible, actual participations in Jesus as salvation.

5) It is a spirituality where the Kingdom of God is present everywhere and God’s people are called to be workers for and proclaimers of the Kingdom wherever God has placed them.

6) It is a spirituality especially manifested where the Gospel is explicitly heard, believed and practiced.

7) It is a spirituality where God is known, experienced and worshiped as Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit as revealed by Jesus in scripture.

8] It is a spirituality of the compassion of Jesus for the whole range of human brokenness. It is a spirituality of kindness, gentleness and generosity to the hurting, the lonely and the wounded.

9) It is a spirituality where all people are called to the decisive act of public, intentional discipleship, inaugurated in baptism and continued, when possible, in a local church.

10) It is a spirituality of grace as understood in the teaching and actions of Jesus, and through the grace of God revealed in the Gospel.

11) It is a spirituality of inclusion, particularly imitating Jesus’ inclusion of outcasts, touching of lepers, respectful treatment of women, outreaches to Gentiles and liberating miracles for those who were considered beyond help, hope and forgiveness.

12) It is a spirituality that takes place in a movement of cross-cultural church planting. Jesus shaped spirituality is formed in the context of the outcomes and values that contribute to cross-cultural church planting, particularly in places where the Gospel has not been heard.

13) It is a spirituality that is shaped, whenever possible, in local churches and under the ministry of local church leadership. It is a spirituality that receives the ministry of the Spirit through the broadest possible experience of the church of Jesus.

14) It is a spirituality that announces and practices the end of religion, because all religion is fulfilled in Jesus. What remains of religion and religious practice is completely transformed by Jesus into a New Covenant understanding of the people of God.

15) It is a spirituality that calls all persons, and especially disciples, to continual personal transformation by grace in every area of human nature, experience and relationship.

16) It is a spirituality formed by the practice of prayer, reading scripture, worship, servanthood, mission and simplicity, both individually and, whenever possible, in community with other disciples.

17) It is a spirituality that is consciously, exclusively and intentionally Jesus-centered. The center and the boundaries of Jesus shaped spirituality are Jesus himself, as revealed in scripture, especially in the Gospels. It is a spirituality that takes all study of Jesus seriously, but affirms that Jesus is revealed with the authority of God in scripture.

18) It is a spirituality with a hopeful, optimistic eschatology of the Kingdom of God, inaugurated now and coming in fullness, announcing in advance God’s judgment of the world and God’s vindication of his people.

19) It is a spirituality that is not dispensed or controlled by institutions, but is accomplished by the work of the Spirit through whatever means God chooses as the shaping, forming element.

20) It is a spirituality of creativity, freedom and cultural diversity. We are constantly discovering and rediscovering Jesus in new ways. It is a spirituality that honors and appreciates the discovery of Jesus by those who have known Jesus before us.

21) It is a spirituality that receives and evaluates tradition, authority and theology within a living experience of discipleship to Jesus.