Looking Back On A 10 Year Long Conversion Experience: Was It Mine Or Ours?

Reading N. T. Wright’s Jesus and The Victory of God has sparked some reflection on how my religion has changed during the past decade. It’s a fundamental shift in what I believe and what I do – a change in how I find meaning and value in life. Oddly, it tracks a shift in our scholarly understanding of Jesus that I was not aware of at the time.

I came back to Christianity about 1980 from several years of pretty serious Buddhism. I still value my Buddhist experience and could not have found my way back to Christianity except by that path. But for reasons that will become clear, I now find the historical focus, the narrative structure, and the hope for change in this world offered by Christianity is more helpful -- at least in our cultural context. I am quite content to let Buddhist be Buddhists. I just hope Christians will be Christians. It has taken me a lot of years, step by step, to actually engage the distinctly Christian hope in this world and for this world – in fact, I’m pretty sure I am not there yet. It’s a process.

In the 1980’s and 90’s, the in vogue view of Jesus was “wisdom teacher.” Most of what Jesus taught was about “the Kingdom of God.” But what does that mean? It definitely isn’t where we go when we die. The Jesus Seminar folks and others who gave us Jesus the Wisdom Teacher interpreted the Kingdom as a spiritual state already available to anyone who got their mind right. That’s what I believed and that’s what I taught. The Kingdom Jesus proclaimed did not have any implications for the existing power structures of the world, like the Roman Empire, the Temple theocracy, local authorities like Herod, etc. The crucifixion of Jesus either did not happen at all or it was a big mistake. Jesus was a wise teacher like Lao Tzu. He was no threat to either Pilate or Herod. If they killed him, it was because they didn’t understand that he was harmless.

My religion in the 80s and 90s was about getting my mind right and helping others to get their minds right too. What about crime, economic injustice, poverty, disease, etc.? I thought Christians should do kind acts here and there as evidence of our right-mindedness. But for the most part, I saw secular society as hopelessly corrupt and believed the Church should stand apart from it. I wanted to prophesy against society from a removed position of purity. I talked about living by the Church Calendar instead of the Hallmark Calendar. My religion in those days was “spiritual but not political.” Wright’s word is “escapist.” I had washed my hands of humanity.

9/11 was the turning point. The religion I had on September 10 was not up to what happened on September 11.  That day brought home to me that religion can be a horribly destructive force in this dusty flesh and blood world where we live. We can go to work one morning and be killed by someone’s religion. Or religion can do good in this world. It can feed the hungry, teach the illiterate, heal the sick, even liberate the captive. The meaning and value of our lives turns on which kind of religion we practice – but only if we actually practice it with our feet on the ground here, now -- in this time and this place.

It wasn’t just watching the Twin Towers fall. A lot of things went into my conversion process – a sabbatical semester at Harvard Divinity regrooving my theology, hitting the age for a “generativity crisis,” reengaging racial reconciliation work in Georgia, and the ONE Campaign for the Millennium Development Goals. I changed what I did before I changed what I thought. Praxis first. Theory later. I know that sounds like some other philosophies, but it’s also Anglican.

So now I am learning that Jesus was not a “Wisdom Teacher” in the mode of Lao Tzu et al. – not that it’s bad to be a Wisdom Teacher – that just isn’t who Jesus was. Jesus was doing two things: (1) he was offering hope that

God will intervene in the socio-economic-political world we live in and turn the apple cart upside down – like in the Magnificat. (2) He was already bringing that new reality into being. He was already turning the apple cart upside down with his teaching, his way of life, and his healing miracles. When God happens in the world it looks like Jesus.

Getting our minds right is part of joining the Kingdom movement. It takes prayer, meditation, and study. Without spiritual practice, our service to others isn’t grounded in God but in our own egos, so it goes awry. But the Kingdom Movement is also practice. It takes rolling up our sleeves and engaging in Kingdom work in our time and in our place. We don’t build the Kingdom with our own hands. We can’t fulfill it in its wholeness, but we can live the Kingdom in a world dominated by the ungodly forces Paul called “the powers and the principalities of this present age.” We can get on the right side and widen the fissures so grace can break in. We can enact the Kingdom in the midst of a world that has gone so dreadfully wrong.

I knew as I watched the Twin Towers fall that my religion would have to grow or die. It grew. I wrote God Of Our Silent Tears (my book on how God responds to evil and suffering), worked with racial issues in Georgia, raised money for the ONE Campaign, and now am working to organize communities in Nevada to restore the quality of our common life.

So here’s what I am wondering: N T Wright portrays a Jesus who is making a real difference now; that difference is more important than it looks because it also opens the door to a whole new reality dawning in God’s time. Reading Wright makes me ask whether this change in my religion is just a personal thing, just the natural adjustment of religion to another stage of life – or is the Church waking up to an earthier pragmatic faith that can change the world?

I don’t know the answer to that. I have a hope but it is not “sure and certain.” I am not hoping for a nice political correctness that calls itself religion. I am hoping for a spiritual movement that has boots on the ground, a movement to challenge the status quo from a strong theological stance of faith, a conviction that we are following God’s call, making straight the way for the Savior. Are we ready to do that? Are we ready to lay aside our nets – even if those nets look like the pastoral maintenance religion that has defined the Church for centuries – in order to follow Jesus and change the world into the Kingdom?

Posted On The Passing Of Dave Brubeck

JAZZ DREAM

I want to dream

            in jazz

            – not short fiction

                        with banal story lines..

I want to dream instead

            in riffs of sound

            – notes, hot, cool, sweet, and blue.

No more dramas         

            like last night’s tired script

            with characters better forgot

            and plots devoid of charm.

No, henceforth,

            I shall dream

            in jazz alone

Wes Montgomery’s reflective chords,

            the musing melodies of Thelonius Monk,

            and Cal Tjeder’s

                        nuanced vibes.

When the story has been told 

            or grown too stale for telling,

it’s time to close

            even the inward eye

and drift on Coltrane’s

            “Russian Lullaby”

            time to dream

            exclusively

            in jazz.

Wrote this for a reading at a jazz bar in Macon, GA. It was still on their wall when I left. it doesn't mention Dave Brubeck, but I like to think he would have enjoyed it or at least the sentiment.

The Real Reason People Who Have Left A Church "Can't Go Home Again"

Story 1

John Smith walks from the parking lot toward the church door. He hasn’t been here in several months. I don’t know why. Something at church upset him. Something at home drew him away. A spiritual crisis. No one knows. No one asked. But today John Smith walks from the parking lot toward the church door.

The ushers spot him. They watch him approach. When he’s close enough to hear, one usher places both hands against the inner wall and calls out loudly, “Everybody hold up the walls. They’re gonna fall in if John Smith comes to Church.” The other ushers laugh heartily.

John Smith makes his way through sheepishly, participates quietly in the service, leaves quickly at the end, and never comes to church again.

Story 2:

Joe and Mary Wilson have been away from church for about 6 months. I don’t know why. No one knows why. No one asked them. But they show up one Sunday, sing the hymns, say the responses with good energy. At the peace, the lay worship leader says, “Well where have you two been? I haven’t seen you here in nearly a year.”

“We were here a couple of months ago.”

“No you weren’t. I have been here every Sunday and I didn’t see you. If you were here I’d know it.”

That was their last time to worship at that church.

Story 3:

Alice left the church some years ago to pursue other spiritual paths. But an old friend from the church has died, so she attends the funeral.

At the reception, Nancy, a church regular approaches Alice, “Do you recognize me?”

“Uh, I think so. Can you help me?”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember me. I was at your wedding.”

Another church regular joins in, “How about me. Do know who I am? What’s my name?”

Alice failed the names and faces test, so she went back to a safer place. The Church was just too hard.

An unorthodox hypothesis:

When I consult with churches whose membership has declined, they often express little desire to attract new members. Instead they say they want to win back the “lapsed.” I generally warn them that the so-called “lapsed” are the least likely demographic group to resume regular attendance at the church they left.

There are various explanations for that statistic. It could be the ex-members have bad memories of the church. It could be the “been there, done that” attitude. But here’s another hypothesis:

Our gatekeepers know the people who used to worship with us, so they are better prepared with solid techniques to drive them away. A new person comes in the door. We don’t know him. It may take us awhile to find his vulnerabilities and drive him out. But the folks we know, we can kick out the door in a New York minute. Something else may be going on consciously. Maybe the church folks just don’t know good manners. Maybe there is some personal pathology at work – but it looks to me as if the church system that tries to keep everything the way it is, knows that to keep things stable you have to keep the outsiders outside – even the ones who used to be inside – maybe especially the ones who used to be inside.

That systemic pathology can always be trumped by Grace and Gospel.  That’s the good news. So maybe some of us want to live the Gospel graciously. If we truly want to offer spiritual support and nurture to the people who used to worship with us, and if we want to receive the spiritual support and nurture they may be bringing for us, here are a few simple suggestions:

First basic suggestion:

Instead of going out and trying to persuade all our ex-members to come back, we could just stop being jerks to the ones who come on their own.

Detailed suggestions on how not to be a jerk:

                                                                                                     

Do not judge, berate, and chastise someone who is in church for not having been there before. The time to do that was when they were absent. You missed it.

Do not make jokes about someone’s past absence or their return. You don’t know what you’re laughing at.

Do not ask people to justify, defend, or explain their absence. Not your business.

Do not ask people the whereabouts of someone (spouse, child, etc.) who you think they ought to have brought with them.

Do not say, “We have missed you.”

In case anyone missed that, “Do NOT say “We have missed you.”

Do not engage the returning member in discussion of a fight or unpleasantness that was going on when they left.

Do not hit a returning member with guilt, shame, or blame.

Do not put the returning member through an inquisition. Do you remember me? The South has its problems but they also have manners. Good manners dictate that if there is the slightest chance someone may not know who you are, you tell them your name and remind them of your connection. To say, “do you remember me?” in much of these United States is regarded as uncouth. In the Church, it is unkind.

.

So what might you say to a returning member? There are several good options.

“Good morning.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“Hi. How are you?”

“Thank you for coming. I’m glad you’re here.”

But here’s the best thing you can do. When you hear one of the gatekeepers guilting, shaming, or interrogating the returning member, cast manners aside – courtesy to whom courtesy is due – gatekeepers are enemies of the cross of Christ and deserve no courtesy – interrupt, draw the retuning member away and apologize, apologize profusely, for the unchristian behavior of the gatekeeper and beg forgiveness on behalf of the church.

Wisdom adage: If you want someone to come through a door, unlock it.

Second basic suggestion:

Don’t let the people wander off unnoticed in the first place. I could not begin to count the number of unchurched people who have told me they skipped church for a while for one reason or another, but no one noticed they were gone, so they never returned. You don’t wait for them to return before you notice they are gone!

There are two ways to deal with this. The best is to have a shepherd system so that every family in church is contacted (by phone, e mail, personal chat, however it happens) each quarter. The “shepherd” just asks, “How are you? Anything you need from the church? Any concerns about the church I could report to the priest?” That way if someone has been absent, you make caring contact without shaming him or her for being absent.

The other way is to have someone monitor your parish directory and notice whether anyone is unusually absent and have the priest or a lay pastoral care giver call the person to ask how he or she is.

If we pay proper attention to our people, fewer of them will wander off. If we simply treat them with ordinary courtesy when they return, they are far more likely to stick with us.

All to often when relationship breaks down between the church and a member, a goodly share of the fault lies with the church. I suspect we know that, and I suspect that’s why we are so quick to blame the member.