Over the past three years, I've become a pretty dedicated Cubs fan. It's funny; I never really appreciated baseball when I was growing up. This might have to do with my growing up in Astros country; to be perfectly frank, there is nothing inspiring about a team with origins in my parents' lifetime that is, in general, pretty crappy. Not that the Cubs have the world's best record, either, but at the very least there's over a century of history and heritage. Also, southeast Texas is one of the least pleasant places to live that I can imagine, whereas Chicago is (in the words of Frank Sinatra) my kind of town.
Beyond my confused sense of "what is home?," I've come to appreciate baseball itself as a sport - and more than a sport, a metaphor for life. Baseball season is born as life starts coming back at the dawning of spring, and it ends when the leaves turn colors and fall to the ground. It's a long season, full of daily struggle - you don't get too many days off in-season. You're not expected to win every day; if you're winning more than half of the time, then you're sitting pretty. Time is different than in other sports; namely, it isn't kept. You play until the game is finished - if that means extra innings, then you play the extra innings.
As a player, you're doing a great job if you get a hit every third time you come up to bat - that means a good game is typically two, maybe three hits. When you fail to do your job, it's an error - and everybody makes mistakes. You might slump...and people tend to be forgiving in the end. You have a bad day...people tend to be forgiving in the end. There is almost always a chance for redemption - the player who is booed while taking the field (coughAlfonsoSorianocough) might just be the one who hits the game-winning home run...and you can bet he's not going to be booed again for a while after that.
And, at the end of the season, most our teams won't be headed to the playoffs (unlike certain other sports). You grieve, you drink a beer more than usual, and you move on, hopeful that next year will be the year. Baseball, more than any sport, is a sport which showcases grace and hope. No wonder that the theologian in me loves it so much...
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Churchy Stuff
"But wait," you are no doubt thinking. "Don't you ALWAYS talk about churchy stuff? Isn't that kind of what your life revolves around." Fair enough. But, right now...I want to talk about what it means to be CHURCH.
We've been having some really quality discussions lately, here in Dayton, about what things like evangelism mean. What's the point of evangelism and community outreach? Is it to grow our numbers? Is it to share our gifts with the community without being concerned about numbers? And...what does it even mean to share the Good News? Does that mean we have to start going out, two by two, on bikes while wearing shirts and ties...or is it something different?
I'm not sure that I have answers, let alone good ones, but what I do feel like I can say is that if we continue, as a Church universal, not to wrestle with some of these questions, then you might as well stick a fork in us. We could spin our tires in the mud right now, throwing out the doom-n-gloom statistics about decline in mainline Protestant churches. We could spend hour upon hour trying to reduce the supposed success of "evangelical" churches down to a magic formula for growth and prosperity - some sort of ecclesial alchemy by which we turn doctrinal apathy, liturgical confusion, and institutional staleness into gold as shiny as Joel Osteen's slicked back hair.
One of my professors joked in my Intro to Theology class that "don't tell anyone!" is the only commandment of Jesus that Lutherans really take seriously. What would things look like if we invited friends to church more often than twice a lifetime for a baptism or confirmation? What would it look like if we learned how to articulate our faith rather than just know that we have it, but not really know or care how to put it into words? What would it look like if our primary goal every day wasn't just to survive work and not burn supper when we get home, but to serve other people with the same love that Jesus showed in his earthly ministry?
Of course, equipping people to do those sorts of things is a little difficult at congregations that, too often, become more about hotdish than the Holy Spirit. What would a congregation geared toward forming people's faith into a dynamic, active force in their lives look like? What would it look like if we stopped arguing about "traditional" versus "contemporary" and focused on worshipping in the timeless rhythm of Gather-Word-Meal-Send regardless of whether the music was played on an organ or a guitar? What would it look like if we had fewer debates about the appearance of the lawn and more community gardens growing on our grounds? What would it be like if, instead of Bible studies that talk down to people or impose a set, rigid understanding of what the "right" interpretation of a passage is, we found ways to read the Bible together and celebrate how God speaks to us through the words of scripture? How would we feel when we come out of worship if we heard sermons brimming over with Gospel, and were fed by sacraments that are treated as being physical proclamations of the same Gospel?
Now wouldn't that be something?
We've been having some really quality discussions lately, here in Dayton, about what things like evangelism mean. What's the point of evangelism and community outreach? Is it to grow our numbers? Is it to share our gifts with the community without being concerned about numbers? And...what does it even mean to share the Good News? Does that mean we have to start going out, two by two, on bikes while wearing shirts and ties...or is it something different?
I'm not sure that I have answers, let alone good ones, but what I do feel like I can say is that if we continue, as a Church universal, not to wrestle with some of these questions, then you might as well stick a fork in us. We could spin our tires in the mud right now, throwing out the doom-n-gloom statistics about decline in mainline Protestant churches. We could spend hour upon hour trying to reduce the supposed success of "evangelical" churches down to a magic formula for growth and prosperity - some sort of ecclesial alchemy by which we turn doctrinal apathy, liturgical confusion, and institutional staleness into gold as shiny as Joel Osteen's slicked back hair.
One of my professors joked in my Intro to Theology class that "don't tell anyone!" is the only commandment of Jesus that Lutherans really take seriously. What would things look like if we invited friends to church more often than twice a lifetime for a baptism or confirmation? What would it look like if we learned how to articulate our faith rather than just know that we have it, but not really know or care how to put it into words? What would it look like if our primary goal every day wasn't just to survive work and not burn supper when we get home, but to serve other people with the same love that Jesus showed in his earthly ministry?
Of course, equipping people to do those sorts of things is a little difficult at congregations that, too often, become more about hotdish than the Holy Spirit. What would a congregation geared toward forming people's faith into a dynamic, active force in their lives look like? What would it look like if we stopped arguing about "traditional" versus "contemporary" and focused on worshipping in the timeless rhythm of Gather-Word-Meal-Send regardless of whether the music was played on an organ or a guitar? What would it look like if we had fewer debates about the appearance of the lawn and more community gardens growing on our grounds? What would it be like if, instead of Bible studies that talk down to people or impose a set, rigid understanding of what the "right" interpretation of a passage is, we found ways to read the Bible together and celebrate how God speaks to us through the words of scripture? How would we feel when we come out of worship if we heard sermons brimming over with Gospel, and were fed by sacraments that are treated as being physical proclamations of the same Gospel?
Now wouldn't that be something?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
GREAT tidbit from an Apostolic Father
I'm a bit of a Patristics nerd (patristics=studying the writings of the Church Fathers), and as I was reading a 2nd century letter written by St. Ignatius to the church in Ephesus, I found this bit....really vivid, wonderful trinitarian image!
"You are stones of the Father's temple, prepared for the building of God the Father. For you are being carried up to the heights by the crane of Jesus Christ, which is the cross, using as a cable the Holy Spirit; and your faith is your hoist, and love is the path that carries you up to God."
"You are stones of the Father's temple, prepared for the building of God the Father. For you are being carried up to the heights by the crane of Jesus Christ, which is the cross, using as a cable the Holy Spirit; and your faith is your hoist, and love is the path that carries you up to God."
Monday, March 28, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Seven Things
So, my friends Jess and Wes decided that it would be "fun" to tag me in one of those dumb internet schpiels that makes it way around the web. I will refrain from following the rules and subjecting anyone else to doing this, but for now...seven fun-n-exciting facts about yours truly.
1. Despite growing up in Texas, I have absolutely no trace of a Texas accent except, sometimes, when on the phone with either my dad or my grandmother. Apart from that, though, I sound either Midwestern or Northeastern, depending on the day, my mood, how much sleep I've had, etc.
2. I nerd out over Harry Potter these days, but...I didn't read a single book until 2009, and the only movie I'd seen prior to 2009 was Prisoner of Azkaban, mostly because going to see it at the theatre was an excuse to get out of the house with friends. I was Mr. Anti-Hype, "I'm the cool-beyond-cool because I read Dostoevsky" type when I was in high school. Serves me right.
3. I always used to joke when I was growing up about how my Italian heritage meant I had cousins in the mob ("I'll get Vinnie over here to break your kneecaps with a tire iron if you piss me off!" kinda stuff). Come to find out, my great-grandfather DID actually have mob ties. And was from Chicago, to boot.
4. I think everyone is entitled to three random, mildly embarrassing celebrity crushes. These are three famous people who don't usually make the list of "normal" celebrity crushes that everybody and their uncle has. Mine: Avril Lavigne (I may or may not have had a pet betta named "Avril" in my college dorm room...), Bonnie Wright (Ginny Weasley in the Harry Potter movies...don't judge. She's of age, and also a redhead in the movies), and Evanna Lynch (no, I'm not a shameless HP nerd, not at all...and also, don't judge. She's of age, Irish, and her public persona is one of the most down-to-earth of any famous young celebrity).
5. For someone who is as klutzy as I am, I only have a few scars; all of them, except one, are on my hands. One is from a pencil stabbing my thumb when I fell off a couch, another is from a woodcarving mishap with a chisel, and the rest are reminders of various kitchen mishaps. The other one is on my right shin; it's a nice, round, discolored spot thanks to a horrific slip while getting on the #55 at Woodlawn/55th Street.
6. There are very few foods I won't eat - I mean, hey, I'll even eat lutefisk. I actually kinda like it. The main one that never crosses my lips - rutabaga. Anything that smells like a fart while it's cooking is NOT worth eating.
7. Everyone has a few characteristic physical quirks. I tend to make my ears pop a lot through jaw motions (thanks, malformed eustachian tubes for making me need to pop my ears so much!), wiggle my nose to adjust my glasses, and have been known to run my fingers through my hair with great frequency...
1. Despite growing up in Texas, I have absolutely no trace of a Texas accent except, sometimes, when on the phone with either my dad or my grandmother. Apart from that, though, I sound either Midwestern or Northeastern, depending on the day, my mood, how much sleep I've had, etc.
2. I nerd out over Harry Potter these days, but...I didn't read a single book until 2009, and the only movie I'd seen prior to 2009 was Prisoner of Azkaban, mostly because going to see it at the theatre was an excuse to get out of the house with friends. I was Mr. Anti-Hype, "I'm the cool-beyond-cool because I read Dostoevsky" type when I was in high school. Serves me right.
3. I always used to joke when I was growing up about how my Italian heritage meant I had cousins in the mob ("I'll get Vinnie over here to break your kneecaps with a tire iron if you piss me off!" kinda stuff). Come to find out, my great-grandfather DID actually have mob ties. And was from Chicago, to boot.
4. I think everyone is entitled to three random, mildly embarrassing celebrity crushes. These are three famous people who don't usually make the list of "normal" celebrity crushes that everybody and their uncle has. Mine: Avril Lavigne (I may or may not have had a pet betta named "Avril" in my college dorm room...), Bonnie Wright (Ginny Weasley in the Harry Potter movies...don't judge. She's of age, and also a redhead in the movies), and Evanna Lynch (no, I'm not a shameless HP nerd, not at all...and also, don't judge. She's of age, Irish, and her public persona is one of the most down-to-earth of any famous young celebrity).
5. For someone who is as klutzy as I am, I only have a few scars; all of them, except one, are on my hands. One is from a pencil stabbing my thumb when I fell off a couch, another is from a woodcarving mishap with a chisel, and the rest are reminders of various kitchen mishaps. The other one is on my right shin; it's a nice, round, discolored spot thanks to a horrific slip while getting on the #55 at Woodlawn/55th Street.
6. There are very few foods I won't eat - I mean, hey, I'll even eat lutefisk. I actually kinda like it. The main one that never crosses my lips - rutabaga. Anything that smells like a fart while it's cooking is NOT worth eating.
7. Everyone has a few characteristic physical quirks. I tend to make my ears pop a lot through jaw motions (thanks, malformed eustachian tubes for making me need to pop my ears so much!), wiggle my nose to adjust my glasses, and have been known to run my fingers through my hair with great frequency...
Saturday, March 19, 2011
NOT about Rob Bell
Enough on that...at least until I get and read the book.
For today: it's kinda-sorta like spring around here. We won't see a high below 50 until late next week, and the past several days have uniformly been crisp (but not cold), or outright warm and sunny on a few occasions. The snow's gone, and the ground isn't frozen anymore...in many cases, it's turned to smud, that lovely Midwestern springy soil condition which is a delightful blend of slushy snowmelt and mud. Fortunately, it's been so nice that in even more cases, the smud has turned into normal mud, or even plain old dirt again.
It's funny, though, for it to be this nice when we're not even two full weeks into Lent. Somehow, this season of spiritual searching and barrenness almost begs to be marked by miserable weather. Shouldn't we be pelted with snow and ice on our journey to the cross?
Then again, this is a journey that ends with new life. Maybe a little early spring serves as a needed reminder of our new life in baptism, and that Christ wasn't always on that cross...
For today: it's kinda-sorta like spring around here. We won't see a high below 50 until late next week, and the past several days have uniformly been crisp (but not cold), or outright warm and sunny on a few occasions. The snow's gone, and the ground isn't frozen anymore...in many cases, it's turned to smud, that lovely Midwestern springy soil condition which is a delightful blend of slushy snowmelt and mud. Fortunately, it's been so nice that in even more cases, the smud has turned into normal mud, or even plain old dirt again.
It's funny, though, for it to be this nice when we're not even two full weeks into Lent. Somehow, this season of spiritual searching and barrenness almost begs to be marked by miserable weather. Shouldn't we be pelted with snow and ice on our journey to the cross?
Then again, this is a journey that ends with new life. Maybe a little early spring serves as a needed reminder of our new life in baptism, and that Christ wasn't always on that cross...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Some more insight into Bell's thoughts
After running at the mouth for two days about a controversy in which I probably don't agree with either side, involving a book I have yet to read, I found this: http://www.theology21.com/2011/03/15/hearing-from-bell/
Read it for yourself; it just confirms my sinking suspicion that, upon reading Love Wins, I'll probably have to go back and edit three insanely long entries to more accurately reflect what Bell has to say for himself, rather than what cheesed-off "evangelicals" say that Bell is saying.
Read it for yourself; it just confirms my sinking suspicion that, upon reading Love Wins, I'll probably have to go back and edit three insanely long entries to more accurately reflect what Bell has to say for himself, rather than what cheesed-off "evangelicals" say that Bell is saying.
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