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September 2, 2016, 9:44 AM

My Two Cents

Through the course of a year, there are many times when I just can’t imagine NOT being part of the church. The obvious ones come to mind first.

I can’t imagine not having to wake up at the crack of dawn on Easter Sunday to make a full morning of worship, breakfast and worship again- this after the quiet of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. I have to assume that for millions of wonderful people, being greeted by an overflowing Easter basket and hunting for eggs makes everything perfect. But what would Easter dinner be without the chance to talk about the bonnets everyone wore to church?

And, of course, there’s December 24th. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that those who don’t include worship on Christmas Eve MUST take a moment around the dinner table to light a candle and sing “Silent Night”- at least one verse. But, I wouldn’t know.

There are other times when the church adds meaning to our days. The happy noise of a roomful of people enjoying Thanksgiving dinner in fellowship hall; the feel of ashes on our foreheads; the naming of the saints; the small, hearty group of folks who were able to make it through the snow storm into worship; the way a high school kid who was four years old just a day or so ago, speaks of finding Jesus on a work trip clear across the country.

The church adds such rich texture to the warp and woof of the year, doesn’t it?

But, one of the times when the church feels most “right” is in the fall, when things get started up again. I have great memories of kick-off events for our youth group when we’d see each other after being away for much of the summer and the smell of hot dogs roasting at the annual Rally Day picnic to mark the beginning of Sunday school. One year, on such an occasion we launched balloons before we realized it wasn’t the best thing in the world for the environment. Another year we had a guy in a bear costume waving people into the church parking lot on Sunday morning!

Around here for the past fourteen years our annual “rite of fall” is “Respond to the Call” when about a hundred of us figure out a way to remember the victims of the attacks on September 11th by offering ourselves in community service. We’ve been doing it for so long now I can’t imagine September without it.

There are so many different ways for us to say what our mission is as a congregation. But one good way might be this: Our purpose is to offer ministry in such a way that when fall rolls around people begin looking through their closets to see what they might wear to church next Sunday.

Anybody out there want to join the fun?!




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August 25, 2016, 12:00 AM

With Warmth

One of the many benefits of my theological education is the structured time to read, to think, to talk and to ultimately put into practice what I am belaboring.  Praxis, is a process by which a theory, lesson or a skill is enacted, practiced, embodied or realized.  During my time at Vanderbilt I became increasingly interested in the praxis of Christian hospitality. My studies ultimately lead me to frame Christian hospitality in this way:  The way a church views their property is both intrinsically and extrinsically linked to their practice of hospitality.  We might even be familiar with the scripture in 1 Corinthians chapter 12, For the body of God does not consist of one part, but many… we are to be God’s hands, feet, ears etcetera and working together we will live into a sense of cohesion for the living Christ.  We are the body of God, and together we can accomplish many things.  What if we took this a little further and began to conceptualize the church building as the body of God?  Perhaps this could lead to new and curious connections.  
A metaphor can be a powerful tool, they can push us into new and uncomfortable ways of viewing the everyday; maybe even a new spin on the old concepts that we have inherited. And so too, with inheritance comes great responsibility. 

So what is this Church building as the body of God business? I think of it as just one tool in the metaphor tool box to enhance the conversation of Christian hospitality.  For me, how we structure and interact with even the most mundane tasks of the church building use policies have an impact on how you view the stranger/ the outsider. You have heard that body language is important when meeting someone for the first time… think of this as our holy body language.

 This is one of my most important theological preoccupations!   To put it differently, the way Christians conceptualize and articulate physical space inevitably influences the way we treat our neighbor. 
And let me tell you, Christian Temple is one of the best functioning examples I have had the privilege of living into!  Community playground, baseball diamond, garden plots, basketball court, Montessori School, farmers market, Al-anon programs, camps etcetera etcetera the list goes on and on.

This is the greatest indication of vitality in community life, when we are able to use our physical property as a gift- to use our physical property as a manifestation of Gods love for Gods people.

Proximity to others / proximity to the stranger will continue to define Christian Temple. Our identities are constructed in our relationship to place and to ownership, we are boundary setting creatures and boundaries are tantamount to our health. I sometimes wonder what it would look like if we expanded our circle. Despite what we might fear the consequence. I will leave you with one of my favorite lines from poet William Stafford ...   “What you fear will not go away: it will take you into yourself and bless you and keep you.” 
We are called as a community to grow into newness both thoughtfully and with great care. 

Who is the stranger among us?

What does our body language say to our larger community?  


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August 4, 2016, 12:00 AM

My Two Cents

Back in Indianapolis Don’s Guns was the biggest gun shop in town. Don’s motto: “I don’t want to make money, folks. I just love to sell guns.”

And our country? We just want to buy them.

Last month while I was waiting for my glasses to be fixed at Costco, I stumbled upon the terrific book, “Epitaph: A Novel of the OK Corral” by Mary Doria Russell. The book tells the very involved story leading up to one of most iconic incidents of gun violence in our history- one in which both good guys with guns and bad guys with guns were killed.

The main story is about the OK Corral, but a side story that is hard not to hear, especially this summer, is how deeply our country’s love of guns is woven into our culture. This stuff was real, and it didn’t happen all that long ago. Everyone was armed. And the way to be safe was either to carry a gun or live with someone who did. That’s who we were. And, to a large extent, that’s still who we are.

But Russell’s story makes it clear that so many people got killed back in the good old days because of what went along with all those guns. The most lethal accomplice was alcohol, the 19th century drug of choice. Then came things like revenge, poverty, jealousy, racism, and good old fashioned American machismo. Then, as now, guns were everywhere. Then, as now, these were the things that led people’s fingers to curl around the trigger.

I wish our country wasn’t so enamored with firearms. Now that we’re not fighting the British from our front porches, I wish our Constitution went from the first directly to the third amendment. The presence of guns in anyone’s hands other than hunters, law enforcement officers, and soldiers doesn’t make me feel one bit safer.

But until that day comes, let’s not JUST talk about gun control after the next shooting. Let’s also focus our attention on the people pulling the trigger. They haven’t really changed that much since 1881. They are the young, the angry, the poor, the despondent, the ones desperately suffering from addiction, the ones who stand in harm’s way on our behalf. They may be us, actually. But, if not, they are certainly within our reach.



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