mainline ideologies

a recent survey by Public Religion Research found that among the mainline denominations,
pastors identified their political ideologies like this--from most liberal to least liberal:

United Church of Christ
Episcopal Church
Disciples of Christ
Evangelical Lutheran Church
Presbyterian Church USA
United Methodist Church
American Baptist Church

defs

An article by Rodney Clapp creates some new definitions. Here's my favorite:

Fliturgy: A hyperactive worship service designed for short attention spans--with a sermon under ten minutes, no more than two verses of any song sung, and prayer time limited to two minutes.

Here's another good one:

Egocessory prayer: A public prayer centered more on the pray-er and his or her eloquence and cleverness than on God.

This one's okay:

Lexlexia: When the pastor mistakenly preaches on a lectionary text not assigned for the day.

Another one:

Bulletinnitus: The dazed, ear-ringing sensation you get when the announcmements for the day drone on and on.

(from Christian Century, April 7, 2009)

Mentally ill Christians

The blog below was written by Therese Borchard:

I was invited by Mark Brown of Brownblog.com to respond to the question: How do you grow your faith as a person with a mental illness? Here's what I wrote on his site:

This morning was fairly typical: I was both inspired and ticked off by the reading of the day, in Mark's gospel, when Simon's mother-in-law lay sick with a fever. Jesus grabs her hand and her fever immediately leaves.

"Nice, Jesus, good going with that one, " I said to the Son of God, half sarcastically and half sincerely. Because all of us who live with severe depression, bipolar disorder, or any mood disorder know that our illness is chronic. Even on the good days, we wade through some pretty thick crap, and sometimes it feels like we spend the entire day on our knees, begging for that tap on the hand -- when the negative thoughts will painlessly evaporate and our hippocampus will stretch instead of shrink, when all the cells housed in the prefrontal cortex of our brain get ready to party, and tell our nervous system that there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

But that's not the way faith works when it comes to a mental illness. At least not in my life and in the lives of most of my readers.

The healing process is slow. Really bloody slow. Most often we take three steps backward for every four forward.

The most difficult task for me -- and for many believers -- is to weed out the illness from the spiritual flat tire. Because yes, depression can be a telltale sign that something is amiss in our lives, that some aspect in our marriage, in our jobs, in our relationship with God needs attention. It's screaming: "Yo, me! Some care, please... over here!" That is, if we slow down long enough to listen. And I don't mean just depression. Any illness -- arthritis, chronic fatigue, sinus infections -- can indicate that a piece of our mind-body-spirit puzzle is hiding underneath the couch cushion, waiting to be found.

I agree with author Tim Farrington who writes in his forthcoming memoir, "A Hell of Mercy," that "doubt as to whether you are in a dark night or 'just depressed' is probably a very good sign; it means you're alive and paying attention and that life has you baffled, which is the precondition for truth in my experience." And I also agree with Peter Kramer, author of "Listening to Prozac" and "Against Depression" that with more education and research, depression will be stripped of its charm and its virtues, that "we idealize depression, associating it with perceptiveness, interpersonal sensitivity and other virtues." When treatment for depression becomes routine, Kramer asserts, "we may find that heroic melancholy is no more."

I know my position sounds wishy-washy: because either depression is an illness that we treat systematically without regard to the life of the spirit, or we pray away our sadness, because, if we believe enough, Jesus really will tap us on the hand and make it all go away.

The water between those continents is murky, and I wade in it every morning as I pray. Even as I write this, I'm blasting Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up," hoping it will give me the spiritual gas that I need to drive my bipolar car, to ignore the negative intrusive thoughts and keep writing these paragraphs. An hour ago, when my jumbled brain and I sat down in front of a blank screen, I prayed that God make me an instrument, a mere pencil in his hands.

Every day my biggest job is to try to grow my faith as a person living with a mental illness. I ask God to help me know what my job is ... the cognitive behavioral techniques, the gratitude worksheets, a better sleep schedule, more therapy, or less caffeine and chocolate. And then I beg him to take the rest ... all the stuff I'm pretty sure I can't control.

I agree with Jean Vanier, the founder of the L'Arche, an international work of communities for the mentally disabled, that the healing process is gradual for the majority of believers. It's no tap on the arm. Vanier writes in "Be Not Afraid":

Being reborn in Jesus is not rapid for many of us. It is a quiet, gentle growth, like the growth of the child in the womb of his mother and like his gradual growth in knowledge, affection, physical strength, and understanding after birth. The healing power of the Spirit is a quiet, gentle power. He makes die in us all the fears, the desire to possess or to destroy, the hurts and the frustrations, all the power which wants to dominate. There is a growth in the power of listening, the power of compassion, of patience, of learning to wait for the hour of God. We learn to surrender to the power of the Spirit and the power of God, to stop agitating, to let God take over our lives, to abandon ourselves to the Supreme Healer.

Bible versions

One of the blogs I read regularly is the Better Bible blog. I've put the link below to a current post on that blog. It's about which versions of the Bible are now selling the most. The comments on the blog will take you at least 15 minutes to read if you read all of them slowly. I found them very interesting. The bottom line is that which versions of the Bible sell the most have nothing to do with which ones are the best. Rather, it has to do with how they are marketed, and who has influence over the publishers and marketers. I think the best version of the Bible is the TNIV (Today's New International Version). It's the one I use for study and reading. (Although for study I use several versions plus the original languages to a certain extent.) Anyway, if it's something that interests you, here is the link: Better Bible Blog

God the Architect

from Father Bede Jarrett, a Dominican priest from England:

With regard to the word we may be called upon to do, and each one of us has some special work to do for God, God made his plans for us before we came into the world at all - for the work is of primary importance, it comes first in God's thought, and we follow as instruments. When an architect is commissioned to build a house [prior to 2009 of course], he has to know first its destined use, its locality, and the weather conditions, etc. Every detail must be taken into consideration. Only then can he collect his materials and begin to work. The foundations are very slowly made, with pain and trouble and much work if the building is to endure...

God is the architect. He has made our souls a certain size and shape, to fit certain holes, so to speak. It is not for us to say that we are incapable, or unfitted for the work given to us. He has placed us in a certain position, and if he wants us to do a certain work, we shall do it. If he doesn't, we shan't. In any case, it is not for us to judge, but to obey his will. The doing of his will is not only the reason for all our Lord's life, but of our life, of all life. In its accomplishment lies the fullness of life.

"Now this is eternal life--that we may know thee." The will of God is made known to us through the interplay of our own interior impulses and desires, and our exterior circumstances.... Nothing is ever quite what we anticipated. There is the interplay of circumstances on our desires. It makes known to us what is God's will for us; and so we give up in our desires what does not fit in with God's plan for us, content to do as he wishes.

[copied from the Beyond Blue blog]

sins

A letter to the editor published in The Presbyterian Outlook (March 30, 2009):

"More than 30 years spent on a debate about one small sin while the Greed has destroyed our economy, Gluttony has made us a nation of obesity, Lust is still a major player in the market place, and Arrogance and Pride have led us into two major wars. It is not likely that we will come to an agreement on the mind of God on this matter. Calling homosexuality a sin does not help. We have divorced elders and ministers who have remarried, and Scripture calls them sinners. We need to get a bigger battlefield. There is a lot more evil in all of us than we have focused on." (Rick Brand, Henderson, N.C. & Ellsworth, Kansas.)

Bless-ed?

One psychologist's beatitudes:

Blessed are the scared in spirit; they are protecting their life force.
Blessed are the dependent: they have not become cynical, or given up on love.
Blessed are the depressed: they shall learn to relish the anger that shall heal them.
Blessed are the narcissists: they are holding their selves together against all odds.
Blessed are the whiners; they have not given up on communicating their pain.

My comment: the point is that inside every symptom of disease there is a
creative potential for life trying to get out. I think Jesus saw that tiny seed of health
in everyone he met. So can we.

Use the handle

If you're like me, you know that our minds can easily get cluttered up with thoughts that aren't positive or helpful. Occasionally we need to clear our minds of unhelpful content or worrisome messages.

Recently I read where someone has a technique for doing just that. He/she wrote:

"I do my best thinking while cleaning the toilet bowl. When I'm performing this mindless, distasteful task, I escape the monotony by daydreaming, reflecting, and fantasizing. I flush my mind."

There's a thought. When our minds get full of crap--flush 'em!

To digest

I read what someone said about the death of Father Richard John Neuhaus. He said in part, "Overall, his writings were hard to swallow but important to digest."

That's a good insight. There are writers and preachers whom I disagree with, but their writings are worth pondering because they are thoughtful people. Christopher Hitchens comes to mind. And William Buckley. And Bill O'Reilly. And Stanley Hauerwas. And Joel Osteen. And Pope Benedict XVI. And Newt Gingrich. Etc. (Ann Coulter gives us nothing to digest; just nausea.)

We don't have to agree on everything in order to learn from one another.

Hard to swallow, but important to digest.
Yes.

Immigrants

I was reading the Spring edition of Insights, a publication of Austin Seminary. The theme of this edition is Immigration. Claudio Carvalhaes, professor worship and preaching at Louisville Presbyterian Seminary, wrote an article about the borders of the U.S. and Mexico. He knows something about the subject, since he is an immigrant from Brazil. He is also an ordained Presbyterian minister with a Ph.D. from Union Seminary in New York.

He challenges many of the myths about immigration. He writes:

1. Immigrants do not take our jobs. Rather, they create jobs because they perform many tasks that employers require and this allows for businesses to grow.

2. Immigrants do not drain our economy. In fact, they revive local economies and the country's economy gains $22 billion dollars per year from immigrant workers, which makes Latino immigrants more of a benefit than a problem.

3. Immigrants do not threaten American culture. In most cases, immigrants bring a wealth of wisdom that enriches American culture instead of destroying it. And by the third generation, almost every person speaks English.

4. Immigrants do not bring disease. In fact, many immigrants are healthier than U.S. citizens, and since they are so afraid of being caught by the police, most live hidden lives.


Claudio recommends watching the movie "Romantico" at

www.meteorfilms.org

Exodus 23.9 -- "You shall not oppress a foreigner; you know the heart of a foreigner, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt."

We were all foreigners in America at one time.

Slowly

I share this blog with you for its wisdom...

Lord, give me patience. Now!

By Leo Campos

My sister has just recently given birth to her first child. I admit that nearly the first words out of my mouth were: "Where are the pictures? Has she updated her Facebook page?" I admit to being an information junkie, and my TV is also connected to my computer so I can check IMDB and Google and Wikipedia while watching a movie or documentary to check up on more facts - what other film has the actress been in? What is the GDP of Indonesia? My family tends to leave me alone during these times. I find I am less than unique in this addiction. My colleagues frequently chide me for not having either an iPhone or a Blackberry, and the fact that I do not Twitter makes me look like someone with "things to hide" from my more connected friends.

The fact that we want things now is really not new, after all Adam and Eve wanted the apple now, not later...

Serpent: Where u at?
Eve: Here
Serpent: Wanna get some appels? [sic]
Eve: Nah. Big Man says No-no.
Serpent: Natch. But why make them so red and delish. Here's a pic.
Eve: Lookin good.
Serpent: How about it then?
Eve: Gotta talk to BF
Serpent: Bring him too!
Eve: OK. SYL.
Serpent: 7 by the tree.

And we all know where that got us. We want instant gratification. We want instant results. We want immediate reduction in discomfort. We are, all of us, "Immediatists".

It seems the idea of spending time watching a sunset or staring at a blank wall doing Centering Prayer is nonsense if not downright madness. Imagine how many chores could've gotten done in that time! But the truth is that the very best stuff takes time to mature. Everything from thoughts, to works of art, to food preparation, to eating a meal together, is better if not rushed. We want immediate solutions to problems which came about in the first place because we rushed into solving the problems that preceded the current one.

One thing is the result of this Immediatist faith: the breaking apart, the incompleteness, of our lives in the deepest sense. In a strange sense, the rapid multiplication of instant "solutions" actually leads to a deep spiritual paralysis.

Against all this you have the methods and process of the Church. We got our Episcopal liturgy which can only move so fast (no matter how short the sermon) - before you can get to the Eucharist. We also got the church liturgical calendar which seems to stretch interminably in Advent and Lent. We also have the nearly 1500 years of monastic formation which demands a slow, almost plodding, approach. It takes a year to even begin as a Novice. It take two more to begin the process of vows. It takes 6 or 7 years to "graduate", to take Final Vows. Who wants to hand around for 7 years? And not even get an MDiv out of it?

Over and over again I have seen people come to me for spiritual direction or to one of my lectio retreats, who almost physically vibrated with anxiety (which is a St. Vitus's Dance of Immediatists). Over and over they had to find a way to slow down, to surrender to a more organic pace. To put up with psalms being recited slowly.

In monastic life, in the life of the Church, agitation is a disease. Chomping at the bit to jump at the next thing, without properly stopping before to pray for assistance from God and upon completion for a prayer of thanksgiving is like trying to hammer cold iron: a lot of noise and effort, not much result.

Anyone who takes some serious spiritual work learns first of all to move at the "speed of God." This does not mean some artificial speed. In fact it is the opposite of all our artificial speeds. Sometimes the work is frenetic; sometimes the work is measured and slow. The speed of it is based on the intrinsic properties of the work that God has set before us. It comes from nowhere else.

Monastic life treasures patience. Wait for things to evolve. Wait longer than you think you can wait, and the wait a little longer. The novice is usually wanting to move on - but move on to where? There is nothing that a senior knows or does which the novice is forbidden. The very act of waiting is formation. The need to move ahead and get to Vows and so on tells most Formation Masters that the Novice should be made to wait a little longer.

The same thing with our Sunday services. It has little to do with the type of music (classical or contemporary), or the amount of charismatic experiences we have. The order of the service ensures that there are enough pauses and enough slow moments for every person to take a deep breath and bask in adoration of God.

So, begin practicing a little more patience. Look for opportunities to be slowed down or even delayed. Look for those moments when life conspires to slow you down. Those are epiphanies - and only the patient will know God.

Brother Leo Campos is the co-founder of the Community of Solitude , a non-canonical, ecumenical contemplative community. He worked as the "tech guy" for the Diocese of Virginia for 6 years before going to the dark side (for-profit world).

a pastor's opinions

What follows is a rather long post, and may not be of interest to many people. It is a blog entry by a pastor in Washington DC. He is one of the leaders in the new Calvinist Baptist movement that I referred to a few days ago. The blog is entitled, "What I Can and Cannot Live With as a Pastor."

It begins here:


Okay, if you’re particularly interested in reading this because you want an answer to the question implicit in the title, you’re the exact kind of person for whom this kind of article might be really dangerous. You might be looking a little too hard for a man-made rulebook. Proceed with caution.

Speaking personally, I probably wouldn’t turn to an article for an answer to the title’s question. Rather, I would turn to trusted counselors who knew me and the situation in which I pastor. Abstract principles need to be tested by Scripture, and even true ones can be badly misapplied.

Let me give you an example. Christian churches should practice church discipline. True. And Christian churches are in sin if they tolerate unrepentant sin. True. As a pastor, I should not lead my church into sin. True.

Okay, suppose I discuss all these matters with a brother-pastor and feel confident that we’re on the same page about them. But now, imagine this. What if a few weeks later, I get a call from this pastor telling me that he had been fired?

“Fired?! Why?” I ask incredulously. “I thought they liked you!”

“They did,” he responds. “But after our conversation the other day, I felt convicted that I should lead my congregation to practice church discipline so as not to tolerate sin.”

“Yes,” I prod, “so?”

“So,” he replies, “when the former senior pastor’s daughter has been known for some time to not be attending (though still a member) and even living with her boyfriend, I suggested at a deacons’ meeting that we do something about it. The next thing you know…” I interrupt, “No need to go on, I can guess much of the rest of the story.”

Something can be true, yet we can decide as pastors that our congregations are not ready to act tomorrow in a way they might be ready to act in a year. Jesus himself declined to answer all the questions the disciples put to him, for the reason that they could not yet bear some truths.

I’m not suggesting that you be deceptive, but simply that you explain things to your congregation as they are ready to hear them.

So, given that long warning, what things can I and can’t I live with as a pastor? Let me throw out a bunch of different examples that are relevant to my particular situation: organs, female elders, universalism, altar calls, humor, multi-site campuses, drums, the KJV, stained glass, racism, infant baptism, no formal membership, sermons limited to 10 minutes, large and high pulpits, TV studio-like acoustics. My goal in what follows is not to give you a sacrosanct playbook, but to illustrate how I go about thinking through practical matters. Let’s take each one in order.

1. Organs. I can live with an organ. I can live without an organ. I can even live with an organ that’s too loud. But I don’t want to! Organs are not in the Bible. Congregational singing is. Any accompaniment which smothers and thereby discourages congregational singing should be reformed or eliminated. Given the financial and emotional commitments that are represented in organs, movement for change here should be slow.

2. Female elders. I might be able to live with female elders, but not for long, and probably not at all, so I probably just shouldn’t try. I want to allow for those situations in which you’ve had an ill-taught church that’s willing to follow your leadership, where even the female elders themselves are happy to step down. But normally, if a church accepts female elders, has been clearly instructed to the contrary, and will not change, that seems like a battle you won’t win. So I probably wouldn’t even begin with such a church.

3. Universalism. I cannot put up with a church which teaches that Christ died as a substitute in the same way for everyone so that everyone will be saved. The Bible doesn’t teach that. That undermines the gospel. Unless they would repent immediately, I wouldn’t even begin with such a “church.”

4. Altar calls. I can live with altar calls. This is a longer conversation, but you must first realize how your congregation views them. If they are lightly invested in them, you can probably remove them fairly soon and easily. If they are the emotional highpoint of the service, then you probably need to spend some time changing the language you use about them, and then, over time, educate the congregation that Jesus called people to repent of their sins and to trust in him. The physical motion to which he called them was not walking down an aisle but taking up the cross.

5. Humor. I can live with some diversity on humor. Surely, some kinds of humor would always be out of bounds (e.g., obscene, impure, crude). Other forms of humor and the quantity of humor are more a matter for wisdom. And I can imagine some variety between congregations here. But even here I would want to work for as much agreement in understanding and practice within a church as possible.

6. Multi-site campuses. I can live with multi-site campuses. But only if they are a temporary measure while the congregation builds a larger meeting space, or where the two sites are a segue to an independent church plant. Otherwise, I cannot live with them, and, praying God’s prosperity on the now two churches and their ministry, I would move on. (I think the church is one assembly).

7. Drums. I can live with drums. Like organs, if they are overpowering and actually discourage congregational singing, then I would prefer not to live with them for long. No instrument should discourage the biblical practice of congregational singing. But here, as in so many other places, teach before you act, and certainly before you call the congregation to act.

8. The King James Version of the Bible. I can live with the KJV. It is beautifully done. But there’s no need to use it. As people have done throughout the history of translating the Bible, churches should be okay with using a version which translates the languages that were contemporary for Moses and John into language that is contemporary for us today.

9. Stained glass. I can live with stained glass, stone buildings, cross-shaped narthexes and wooden pews. In fact, all of the traditional European style churchy architecture has both pros and cons. You should never assume your building is necessary for the mission that God has given your congregation, but neither will an aspect of the building normally prohibit you from fulfilling that mission.

10. Racism. I cannot live with racism. It is infinitely more offensive to God (who made everyone in his image) than it is even to our increasingly racially sensitive age. Assuming that we all participate in some amount of unintentional racism, studying and preaching Scripture with an eye to this will help us and those who hear us.

11. Infant baptism. I cannot live with infant baptism. Having said that, if I were the pastor of the only church allowed in Mecca, maybe… But even then, I simply lack the authority to admit someone to the Lord’s Table who has not been baptized. It is, as one said not too long ago, “above my pay-grade.” I have many dear paedo-baptists friends from whom I have learned much. Yet I see their practice as a sinful (though sincere) error from which God protects them by allowing for inconsistency in their doctrinal system, just as he graciously protects me from consistency with my own errors.

12. No formal membership. I can live with this. But, depending on the situation, not for long! In this fallen world, sin and error will arise within the church, which means that we must know who has the final authority for acting against sin and error. Since the New Testament teaches that the congregation has this final say (see Matt. 18; 1 Cor. 5; 2 Cor. 2; Gal. 1) I have to know who belongs to the congregation. Too, the members need to know of their own obligations, responsibilities, and privileges. There may be cultural reasons why a church in a non-transient, small community in which Christians are a minority could effectively operate with only an informal membership. But except for these very particular circumstances, Scripture and practice mandate that we have a clear membership in order to function biblically as a church.

13. Sermons limited to 10 minutes. I can live with this. For a while. Though it would be an ill sign of that congregation’s health. Or telling about the previous pastor’s ministry. I would certainly like to see the church’s appreciation of and desire for God’s preached word to grow.

14. Large and high pulpits. Though off-putting to some, I can live with this. It symbolizes the centrality of the Word in our life together.

15. TV-studio-like acoustics. I can live with acoustics which increase the sound from the front (a.k.a. “stage”) and muffle the sound of the congregation (a.k.a. “audience”), but I don’t want to! Everything this communicates about the assembly is wrong. But this is how they build church auditoriums in these highly amplified days. Natural light is gone! Video projection is in! ARGH!! A living community of people loudly singing and hearing each other is one of the greatest means of edification on this side of eternity. Come to think of it, it’s so good that, unlike the video clip, it keeps being used over on the other side as well!

This is just a little taste of those things that I can and cannot live with as a pastor. Questions of Calvinism, open-air preaching, drama, dress, prophecy, politics, having an American flag on the platform, and myriads of other matters need prayerful and wise consideration by the pastor.

Again, my goal here is not to convince you to adopt all of my conclusions (though I’m happy to push you to think about it). It’s to help you begin thinking about the matters which arise in your situation according to several criteria. What criteria? Here are three questions we as pastors should always ask. First, is the matter biblical? I can live with practices that are commanded or exampled in the New Testament church. I’ll start asking hard questions about practices that are not. You and I will give an account to God for how we led our church. Shouldn’t humility impel us simply to stick with his playbook? Congregational singing shows up in his playbook. Easy call to make. Things that hinder congregational singing. Hmmm. You might want to think twice.

Second, does the matter deny or confuse the gospel? I cannot live with things that explicitly deny the gospel, things that threaten the gospel, or things that blur it. Admittedly, it's not always clear how big of a threat something is to the gospel. Most people don't think polity is something that's relevant to the gospel. I do. My point right now isn't to convince you on this particular matter, so much as to suggest what everyone's standard might be for what they can and cannot live with: draw your line in between things that bring shame on the name and message of Jesus Christ and things that do not.

Third, is the congregation ready? That is, are they mature enough to follow where you lead? If not, you may only do more damage by quickly “leading” in that direction. Truly leading an immature congregation might mean moving very, very slowly. How many young pastors, feeling convicted of conscience to “lead” immediately, do in fact fail to lead because they don’t first take the time to understand and love the ones they mean to lead!

Every answer in real life is more complicated than a few sentences an article can communicate. I pray God will use this article to help you begin some important conversations with some more experienced pastors who know you, your situation, and the Bible.

Mark Dever is the pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, DC and the author of Nine Marks of a Healthy Church (Crossway, 2001).

Last

A bus carrying only ugly people
crashes into an oncoming truck,
and everyone inside dies.

As they stand at the Pearly Gates
waiting to enter Paradise
and meet their Maker,
God decides to grant each person
any one wish
because of the grief they have experienced.

They're all lined up,
and God asks the first one what his wish is.
"I want to be gorgeous."
So God snaps His fingers,
and it is done.

The second one in line hears this and says,
"I want to be gorgeous too."
Another snap of His fingers and the wish is granted.

This goes on for a while with each one asking
to be gorgeous.
But when God is halfway down the line,
the last guy in the line starts laughing.
When there are only ten people left,
this guy is rolling on the floor,
laughing his head off.

Finally, God reaches this last guy
and asks him what his wish will be.
The guy eventually calms down and says,
"Make 'em all ugly again."

>Next time you're last in line...be happy.

("The first shall be last, and the last shall be first." -- Mark 10.31)

Livin'

There was a saint name Francis de Sales,
He preached the good news of Jesus.
Francis knew that everyone fails,
Yet that's not the way God sees us.
Look at the cross! We're forgiven!
So, let's get on with our livin'.

three persons

From John Calvin's Institutes:


He so proclaims himself the sole God as to offer himself to be contemplated clearly in three persons. Unless we grasp these, only the bare and empty name of God flits about in our brains, to the exclusion of the true God. (1.13.2.)

Jean Cauvin

The March 23 edition of Time Magazine has an aritcle entitled, "The New Calvinism" by David Van Biema. Many Presbyterians these days don't even know what 'Calvinism' is. But Calvinism is having a come-back. Not necessarily among Presbyterians though. Evangelicals, especially Baptists, are rediscovering Calvin. To most Americans, any thought of predestination is anathema. We believe in individual freedom. We believe in choices. We think we hold our destiny in our own hands.

Among Southern Baptists there is now a division along this line. The flagship seminary for the resurgence of Calvinism is the Southern Baptist Seminary in Louisville. Which is ironic--since the Presbyterian Seminary in Louisville--which traces its heritage back to John Calvin--is less open to classic predestination than the Baptist Seminary. Among Southern Baptists there is the Calvinist group and the anti-Calvinist group. The Baptist minister in Minneapolis, John Piper, is an ardent Calvinist. He out-Calvins Calvins. The Bible that is being pushed in Christian bookstores--the ESV Bible--has a Calvinist slant. There are many Calvinist blogs in cyberspace, such as 'Between Two Worlds.'

Since this year celebrates the 500th birthday of John Calvin, our own denomination, the PCUSA, is putting out materials to affirm our heritage. This is also the 500th anniversay of the birth of Charles Darwin, whose father was a minister. Calvinism continues to evolve.

Mary Louise?

I was surprised to open up the ESPN Magazine and read about Meryl Streep. Bill Simmons writes about records and statistics in sports and cinema. Meryl Streep, at age 59, has been nominated 13 times for an Oscar, and won twice; nominated for 23 Golden Bloves and won six. And she has two Emmys. Simmons says she is a cross between Michael Jordan, Jerry Rice and Wayne Gretzky. I agree. She is my favorite actor. Only Katharine Hepburn (in the female category) has won more Oscars--she won four. Nicholson has won three Oscars. I would have to put Tom Hanks up there at the top of list too. (Streep's real name is Mary Louise Streep.)

Dad

Thirty-one years ago today my father died.
I was getting ready to go to Terre Haute, Indiana to preach
a trial sermon for a Pastor Nominating Committee from
Clinton, Indiana.
I had been a Baptist pastor for eight years,
but had decided that I didn't belong in that tradition.
I opted for the Presbyterian Church.

Then I got word that my dad had died.
He was 56.
Dad was a quiet man.
Friendly and sociable; diligent and dutiful;
faithful and honest.
But he didn't know how to reach out to me
with warmth.
I know he loved me deeply,
but he had trouble expressing his feelings
and relating to me on a personal level.
I wish he was still here so that
we could really get to know each other.

He served in the 24th Evacuation Hospital during WWII.
He was a foreman at Belknap Hardware Company.
He taught Sunday School.

I rescheduled the trial sermon until the Second
Sunday of Easter.
I remember preaching from John 20.
The Clinton church called me, and I served
there for almost nine years.


[photo: the manse we lived in for over 8 years]

A few notes on music

Have I been hoodwinked all these years? I've been taught that Martin Luther took the tunes of popular music and put religious words to them. For example, "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" was supposedly a bar tune that Luther used to paraphrase Psalm 46. So, in debates about church music today, the point was always made that much of our traditional music actually came from popular music of another era--which would be an argument for so-called 'contemporary music' in churches today.

But wait! Maybe not. I recently read that the 'bar-tunes' argument has been a misunderstanding. The term 'barform' is a German word that means "a poem with more than one stanza, each stanza in the form AAB. It has nothing to do with bars in the sense of pubs...Luther did not use popular music." (Paul Westermeyer, Te Deum: The Church and Music, Fortress Press, 1998, page 148.)

The eminent hymnologist Erik Routley wrote: "The very last thing Luther was, or could have been, was what we now call an adapter of popular styles. He had no use for popular in the sense of the careless, or standards of ignorance. His melodies are the kind of melody far removed from the popular music." (Erik Routley, The Music of Christian Hymns.)

Another writer: "Most of Luther's music for worship was based not on worldly ballads, but rather on the chants of the church." (Robin Leaver, Luther's Liturgical Music: Principles and Implications, Eerdmans, 2007, page 13.)

The quotes above are from an article by Barrett L. Gritters in Protestant Reformed Theological Journal, November 2008. The journal is published by the Protestant Reformed Theological Seminary in Wyoming, Michigan. This has caused me to rethink the whole 'contemporary' music debate. Perhaps the Luther-based argument doesn't hold water.

My opinion on this matter may not amount to much since I'm old and like tradition. But I also have a sense of music. I tend to think that there ought to be an aesthetic dimension to church music that isn't found in popular music. When we enter into the worship of the holy God, the music that is used to support the worship should be something that helps us enter into the mystery of the sacred.

Does popular music tend to trivialize the holy? Does the music of the marketplace--everyday music--lend itself to the mystery of the divine? I know the division of the profane and the sacred has in some sense been broken down by the incarnation of Jesus--the divine has entered the everyday existence. All ground is holy ground. All music is holy because Christ has sanctified everything by his incarnation. Human creativity is good. Music is good. Creativity partakes of the divine. So, all music can be the vehicle of God's grace.

My experience has been that some popular music (rock, jazz, etc) can lift us out of our skin and give us ecstatic experiences that exalt us into the heavenlies. I've certainly experienced the sacred when listening to Chris Botti or Norah Jones or Billy Joel or James Taylor or The Bad Plus or Leann Rimes or John Mellencamp or Diana Krall or Basia or Johnny Cash.

But the context of worship calls for a differentiation of musical styles. Appropriate church music changes with time. But there continues to be music that is inappropriate.

Evidently Martin Luther had the skill to write new music that was consistent with authentic worship of God.

Rufus

In the last chapter of Paul's letter to the Romans there are 24 people named. Almost all of them are unfamiliar to us; but each one is important. There is Phoebe, a female deacon. There are Adronicus and Junia, a couple called 'apostles.' And of course there are Priscilla and Aquila, another couple--both business people and teachers in the church; the church also met in their home.

But an interesting story goes along with the man named Rufus (Ro. 16.13).
Who is Rufus?
William Barclay, in his commentary on Romans, gives us a speculative story.
In Mark's gospel, there is the story of a man named Simon from Cyrene who was forced to carry the cross for Jesus on his way to Golgotha.
Simon had come to town to celebrate Passover.
He was a good Jew.
He didn't know anything about this Jesus fellow.
All of a sudden he was grabbed by a soldier and told to carry the cross.

Now we don't know for sure, but it is possible that the experience of
carrying that cross and seeing the battered Jesus, and watching him
be executed and hearing his words from the cross--
it's possible that Simon went home a different man.
Could it be that the drama Simon was forced to enter into
changed him forever?

It's curious that when Mark tells the story about Simon,
he mentions the names of his sons -- Alexander and Rufus!
Why would the hearers of Mark's gospel know who Rufus and Alexander were?
Well, Mark's gospel was written with the help of Peter in Rome.
(The letter '1st Peter' ends by saying: "She who is in Babylon [the church in Rome] sends you her greetings, an so does my son Mark.")
If Mark and Peter were in Rome writing the Gospel of Mark,
and they knew Rufus who was also in Rome,
they would want to identify Rufus as Simon's son,
because the congregation of Rome would know him.

Simon of Cyrene was converted to Christ in Jerusalem.
He went home and bore witness to the cross,
and his wife and two sons were converted to Christ.
Rufus and his mother are still in Rome when Paul writes
the letter to that congregation.

Again--we don't know if this is what happened,
but it makes sense.

How can we enter into the drama of redemption
so that it changes us?
How can we invite others into that drama?
Evangelism is the art of inviting (not coercing) others into
the drama of Christ.

Understanding Introverts (like me)

What follows is an article from the Atlantic magazine (March 2003), written by Jonathan Rauch. It's one of the clearest presentations of 'introversion' that I've read. Being an introvert myself, I'm glad someone has presented our case...

[article begins here]:
Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?

If so, do you tell this person he is "too serious," or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?

If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands—and that you aren't caring for him properly. Science has learned a good deal in recent years about the habits and requirements of introverts. It has even learned, by means of brain scans, that introverts process information differently from other people (I am not making this up). If you are behind the curve on this important matter, be reassured that you are not alone. Introverts may be common, but they are also among the most misunderstood and aggrieved groups in America, possibly the world.

I know. My name is Jonathan, and I am an introvert.

Oh, for years I denied it. After all, I have good social skills. I am not morose or misanthropic. Usually. I am far from shy. I love long conversations that explore intimate thoughts or passionate interests. But at last I have self-identified and come out to my friends and colleagues. In doing so, I have found myself liberated from any number of damaging misconceptions and stereotypes. Now I am here to tell you what you need to know in order to respond sensitively and supportively to your own introverted family members, friends, and colleagues. Remember, someone you know, respect, and interact with every day is an introvert, and you are probably driving this person nuts. It pays to learn the warning signs.

What is introversion? In its modern sense, the concept goes back to the 1920s and the psychologist Carl Jung. Today it is a mainstay of personality tests, including the widely used Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Introverts are not necessarily shy. Shy people are anxious or frightened or self-excoriating in social settings; introverts generally are not. Introverts are also not misanthropic, though some of us do go along with Sartre as far as to say "Hell is other people at breakfast." Rather, introverts are people who find other people tiring.

Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay—in small doses."

How many people are introverts? I performed exhaustive research on this question, in the form of a quick Google search. The answer: About 25 percent. Or: Just under half. Or—my favorite—"a minority in the regular population but a majority in the gifted population."

Are introverts misunderstood? Wildly. That, it appears, is our lot in life. "It is very difficult for an extrovert to understand an introvert," write the education experts Jill D. Burruss and Lisa Kaenzig. (They are also the source of the quotation in the previous paragraph.) Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood. They listen for a moment and then go back to barking and yipping.

Are introverts oppressed? I would have to say so. For one thing, extroverts are overrepresented in politics, a profession in which only the garrulous are really comfortable. Look at George W. Bush. Look at Bill Clinton. They seem to come fully to life only around other people. To think of the few introverts who did rise to the top in politics—Calvin Coolidge, Richard Nixon—is merely to drive home the point. With the possible exception of Ronald Reagan, whose fabled aloofness and privateness were probably signs of a deep introverted streak (many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors), introverts are not considered "naturals" in politics.

Extroverts therefore dominate public life. This is a pity. If we introverts ran the world, it would no doubt be a calmer, saner, more peaceful sort of place. As Coolidge is supposed to have said, "Don't you know that four fifths of all our troubles in this life would disappear if we would just sit down and keep still?" (He is also supposed to have said, "If you don't say anything, you won't be called on to repeat it." The only thing a true introvert dislikes more than talking about himself is repeating himself.)

With their endless appetite for talk and attention, extroverts also dominate social life, so they tend to set expectations. In our extrovertist society, being outgoing is considered normal and therefore desirable, a mark of happiness, confidence, leadership. Extroverts are seen as bighearted, vibrant, warm, empathic. "People person" is a compliment. Introverts are described with words like "guarded," "loner," "reserved," "taciturn," "self-contained," "private"—narrow, ungenerous words, words that suggest emotional parsimony and smallness of personality. Female introverts, I suspect, must suffer especially. In certain circles, particularly in the Midwest, a man can still sometimes get away with being what they used to call a strong and silent type; introverted women, lacking that alternative, are even more likely than men to be perceived as timid, withdrawn, haughty.

Are introverts arrogant? Hardly. I suppose this common misconception has to do with our being more intelligent, more reflective, more independent, more level-headed, more refined, and more sensitive than extroverts. Also, it is probably due to our lack of small talk, a lack that extroverts often mistake for disdain. We tend to think before talking, whereas extroverts tend to think by talking, which is why their meetings never last less than six hours. "Introverts," writes a perceptive fellow named Thomas P. Crouser, in an online review of a recent book called Why Should Extroverts Make All the Money? (I'm not making that up, either), "are driven to distraction by the semi-internal dialogue extroverts tend to conduct. Introverts don't outwardly complain, instead roll their eyes and silently curse the darkness." Just so.

The worst of it is that extroverts have no idea of the torment they put us through. Sometimes, as we gasp for air amid the fog of their 98-percent-content-free talk, we wonder if extroverts even bother to listen to themselves. Still, we endure stoically, because the etiquette books—written, no doubt, by extroverts—regard declining to banter as rude and gaps in conversation as awkward. We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts' Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say "I'm an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush."

How can I let the introvert in my life know that I support him and respect his choice? First, recognize that it's not a choice. It's not a lifestyle. It's an orientation.

Second, when you see an introvert lost in thought, don't say "What's the matter?" or "Are you all right?"

Third, don't say anything else, either.