My colleague Fr. Tim Schenck from St. John the Evangelist Episcopal Church in Hingham, MA (and possibly better known for originating Lent Madness), wrote a blog post today entitled "Want Fries With That?" In it, he addresses the creeping problem of the consumerism in our culture infecting how we view Church and the clergy who serve her.
Some have misconstrued this as a rehashing of east-facing versus west-facing altars of the liturgical renewal movement. Regardless of how the clergy is situated when saying the Eucharistic prayer, facing the congregation has had the unintended consequence of crashing into the blatant consumerism with which our culture is saturated.
Personally, I wouldn't change facing the congregation at the altar. I do believe Tim+ has appropriately raised the awareness that our posture can be misunderstood or overlaid with other meanings brought in from the world and the deleterious effects it can have on how we understand ourselves as the Church.
We are not purveyors of religious goods and services. We are the Body of Christ and as such a community centered on Christ first and foremost. Priests are not "sacramental Pez dispensers" who exist to dole out baptisms, weddings and funerals on demand. We are called to the cure of souls and to bring the presence of Christ to the gathered community through the sacraments.
When we view the Church solely as the place we go to "be fed," the focus ceases to be on God and it turns towards us. It becomes what we want and whether we are fed and whether or not our needs are met. What if, it's really not about us? What if it starts and ends in God? And what if this God has invited us into greater, more intimate, loving participation with God and each other in this community of faith?
This isn't to say we don't spend time discerning the community to which God may be calling us - the place where our gifts and graces can make a difference in the life of the Church. But note the focus is less about getting what I want or need, but where I can contribute toward the communal life of the risen Christ. The first approach is focused on me ... the second is on thee. Advent seems the appropriate time to reflect on our focus - is it on me, or thee?
Oh ... and I'm with Tim+ ... I will take fries with that too!
Showing posts with label Advent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Advent. Show all posts
Monday, December 9, 2013
Sunday, November 30, 2008
We always begin again
I just finished reading Kathleen Norris' book Dakota: A Spiritual Geography. I had heard snippets of it in my Rural and Small Church Ministries class at Gettysburg Seminary with Gil Waldkoenig. He was reading it at the time I took that class and used it for opening reflections. It's been on my shelf awhile, courtesy of a priest friend who bequeathed her library to me.
It's a fascinating book about monastic spirituality ... not agriculture. Ms. Norris is originally from NYC and moved to Lemmon SD when she inherited the family home there. Lemmon is due north from where my mother's family came from, so I felt some connection to much of what she described about living in that environment. It's hard for anyone who's never been there to really grasp how vast the sense of space is. You can stand in one spot and turn 360 degrees and see horizon in all directions. At night, the lights in the distance are towns 40-50 miles away. The sheer vastness of space is only equaled by our great deserts. It's a place where you really understand how small you are. The isolation makes you face two realities: your true self and God. Both prospects can be terrifying.
Norris talks about how she became connected to a Benedictine monastery in South Dakota. She eventually became an oblate, living the Rule of Benedict but as an outsider. Interestingly, her monastic retreat experiences and her friendship with the monks brought her back to her Presbyterian tradition and exorcised the "Monster God" her fundamentalist grandmother had imparted to her as a child.
One aspect of Benedict's rule is that we always begin again. Our lives are to be a continuous beginning again and again. I find this concept helpful when I find myself thinking I have things all "figured out." Just when I think I know somebody or something or I think I understand about the nature of God ... well, that's the time to set my thoughts aside and begin again. If I don't, I run the risk of rigidity and hubris. When I think I have things all figured out, I start to miss so many little details precisely because those things don't fit my perception of how things work. I've constructed a box that only lets some things in and leaves so much out.
Benedict's reminder to always begin again challenges me to let go of the boxes I construct and start looking at my relationships again with new eyes. Seeing others and God again for the first time is a challenge, but one which keeps me humble and sharpens my ability to get past my own filters and perceptions.
Advent is a time to begin again. It's the beginning of the new church year. I don't know where God will lead me and my family this year, but I've asked God for the grace to dismantle the boxes I've been holding on to. Happy New Year!
It's a fascinating book about monastic spirituality ... not agriculture. Ms. Norris is originally from NYC and moved to Lemmon SD when she inherited the family home there. Lemmon is due north from where my mother's family came from, so I felt some connection to much of what she described about living in that environment. It's hard for anyone who's never been there to really grasp how vast the sense of space is. You can stand in one spot and turn 360 degrees and see horizon in all directions. At night, the lights in the distance are towns 40-50 miles away. The sheer vastness of space is only equaled by our great deserts. It's a place where you really understand how small you are. The isolation makes you face two realities: your true self and God. Both prospects can be terrifying.
Norris talks about how she became connected to a Benedictine monastery in South Dakota. She eventually became an oblate, living the Rule of Benedict but as an outsider. Interestingly, her monastic retreat experiences and her friendship with the monks brought her back to her Presbyterian tradition and exorcised the "Monster God" her fundamentalist grandmother had imparted to her as a child.
One aspect of Benedict's rule is that we always begin again. Our lives are to be a continuous beginning again and again. I find this concept helpful when I find myself thinking I have things all "figured out." Just when I think I know somebody or something or I think I understand about the nature of God ... well, that's the time to set my thoughts aside and begin again. If I don't, I run the risk of rigidity and hubris. When I think I have things all figured out, I start to miss so many little details precisely because those things don't fit my perception of how things work. I've constructed a box that only lets some things in and leaves so much out.
Benedict's reminder to always begin again challenges me to let go of the boxes I construct and start looking at my relationships again with new eyes. Seeing others and God again for the first time is a challenge, but one which keeps me humble and sharpens my ability to get past my own filters and perceptions.
Advent is a time to begin again. It's the beginning of the new church year. I don't know where God will lead me and my family this year, but I've asked God for the grace to dismantle the boxes I've been holding on to. Happy New Year!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Join the Conspiracy
We're entering a time of year that gives me angst. It's "the holidays." My dad calls it the National Eat-a-Thon and says it lasts from Thanksgiving to New Years. But eating isn't what gives me angst (although putting on the extra weight is getting much easier as I get older and harder to take off once it's there).
What gives me angst is the distortion of priorities that goes along with our consumerist culture. Last year, I blogged about the Buy Nothing Christmas and Reverend Billy and his Church of Stop Shopping (check it out here).
This year, we are facing a serious economic crisis caused by the false god (small "g") of consumerism. We have depended upon consumer spending (and wastefulness) to drive our economy since we shifted from an agrarian focus to an industrial one just over 100 years ago. But consumerism has failed us and now I believe we are in a place where our economy (and the world's for that matter) can no longer be sustained by shopping. I don't know what will replace consumerism, but I hope for something more holistic.
I was sent this video by friend today:
If this doesn't put it all in perspective, I don't know what does. Even in our current situation, we still live in one of the wealthiest places on earth. We have poor with us, but remember that if you have a job, access to transportation, access to health care, housing, food and clothing, you are wealthy in comparison with most other people in the world. That's right ... you are wealthy. No, not super wealthy like Bill Gates (super wealthy being a relatively recent historical phenomenon), but you are part of the "ordinary wealthy."
As Christians, I think we need to bury the god of consumerism and heed the call of the Advent Conspiracy to worship fully, spend less, give more and love all.
What gives me angst is the distortion of priorities that goes along with our consumerist culture. Last year, I blogged about the Buy Nothing Christmas and Reverend Billy and his Church of Stop Shopping (check it out here).
This year, we are facing a serious economic crisis caused by the false god (small "g") of consumerism. We have depended upon consumer spending (and wastefulness) to drive our economy since we shifted from an agrarian focus to an industrial one just over 100 years ago. But consumerism has failed us and now I believe we are in a place where our economy (and the world's for that matter) can no longer be sustained by shopping. I don't know what will replace consumerism, but I hope for something more holistic.
I was sent this video by friend today:
If this doesn't put it all in perspective, I don't know what does. Even in our current situation, we still live in one of the wealthiest places on earth. We have poor with us, but remember that if you have a job, access to transportation, access to health care, housing, food and clothing, you are wealthy in comparison with most other people in the world. That's right ... you are wealthy. No, not super wealthy like Bill Gates (super wealthy being a relatively recent historical phenomenon), but you are part of the "ordinary wealthy."
As Christians, I think we need to bury the god of consumerism and heed the call of the Advent Conspiracy to worship fully, spend less, give more and love all.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Playing the Friday Five - Rejoice!
Mother Laura writes:
Rejoice in the nearness of Christ's coming, yes, but also in the many gifts of the pregnant waiting time when the world (in the northern hemisphere, at least) spins ever deeper into sweet, fertile darkness.
What makes you rejoice about:
Can you believe that in two days we'll be halfway through Advent? Gaudete Sunday: pink candle on the advent wreath, rose vestments for those who have them, concerts and pageants in many congregations. Time to rejoice!
Rejoice in the nearness of Christ's coming, yes, but also in the many gifts of the pregnant waiting time when the world (in the northern hemisphere, at least) spins ever deeper into sweet, fertile darkness.
What makes you rejoice about:
1. Waiting?
Waiting is hard for those who pray for patience ... right now!!! But it does force me to stop and be present in the moment while waiting. Appreciating the reality of God's presence even when we're "not there" yet.2. Darkness?
That it cannot overcome light ... but it can make even the faintest light seem bright. Beloved husband has a Newtonian reflector telescope (big honkin' tube of the thing!). This time of year is the best time for observing the heavens because of the lack of humidity in the air. Unfortunately, ambient light from street lights causes problems, but the darker things are, the better we can see the smallest and faintest of light from distant galaxies and objects. Without darkness, we can't see the faintest of light.
3. Winter?
Snow ... when it doesn't cancel worship services and I don't have to shovel it. :-D4. Advent?
Holding back the tide of secular commercialism to remember the rhythm and seasons of the Church (and yes, Christmas is a season, not a day!). I find a blessing in observing Advent because it keeps me from overindulging on Christmas to the point of being burnt out by December 24th!5. Jesus' coming?
The annual remembrance of God's promise to come and save us. To remind us of Christ's presence in this "already but not yet" time we live in. Promise of hope for the future in the midst of a world full of violence and fear.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Hurry up and wait!
OK ... time to confess ... I feel like a hypocrite. There ... it's out! Why? Well, it's all about how Advent is feeling this year for me. I've never been one of those folks who has all of their Christmas shopping done by September (unlike my mom who is past master of getting it all done very early - a gift of which I'm sorely bereft) and for the past two years I've completely missed the whole sending out Christmas cards thing (seminary schedules and internships have a way of crowding stuff out). So between the shopping and the Christmas cards (with the requisite note about why we dropped off the face of the earth for 2 years ...) and the planning of special liturgies for each Sunday in Advent and a Bible study on the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke ... we'll it's not exactly been a peaceful and introspective time of preparation. So as I preach about slowing down to take Advent in and concentrate on spiritual preparation, well ... I feel a bit hypocritical over the whole thing.
Perhaps I'm preaching this as much for me as anyone else (isn't that true more often than we'd like to admit?). Sometimes we ordained folks need to verbalize things for ourselves and maybe, just maybe, what we say for ourselves is helpful to others. And being honest about how we "collars" fall far short of the ideals too is important.
I really like Father Matthew Moretz's video on Anglican prayer (see the Vodpod link on the right of the screen and check it out). He talks about praying the Daily Office and he openly admits that while praying the offices in the morning and evening every day are an ideal, he doesn't always live up to it either. That's right, ordination doesn't magically turn you into the consummately spiritually disciplined person most folks might imagine. We use the tools, but imperfectly of course as we are human ... and we are only human. So I'm trying, by the grace of God, to slow down and take time for some focused spiritual disciplines in Advent to prepare, but it happens in fits and starts.
Advent is about waiting ... and not quite knowing what is going to emerge out of the waiting. The people of Israel had waited in expectation for the Messiah ... for 450 years since the return from Babylon. The first Christmas took place in the midst of the anxiety of living in an occupied land. Some had very clear expectations of exactly what Messiah would be - a warrior king who'd kick the Romans out and restore Israel to its former glory and power. Waiting and hoping ... and finding out that the earthly idea of what Messiah should be wasn't what God had in mind!
Perhaps Advent is just as much about letting go of our expectations of what "should be" and instead open our hearts and minds to the unexpected which God can bring. We all have preconceived ideas about things, just like the people living in Palestine 2,000 years ago. But when God breaks through, it often shatters our neatly packaged ideas of how things should be and should work. God's Holy Spirit often brings chaos precisely to shatter the false images we build up about God and our relationships (with each other and God). Our false images are idols - we create them, we hold onto them, and the Holy Spirit comes to smash them.
So I'll let the Holy Spirit smash my images about what my Advent spirituality "should" look like and be content to carve out a few quiet moments to reflect on letting go and letting God do something surprising and new.
----------------
Now playing: Sir Neville Marriner - Past Three a Clock
via FoxyTunes
Perhaps I'm preaching this as much for me as anyone else (isn't that true more often than we'd like to admit?). Sometimes we ordained folks need to verbalize things for ourselves and maybe, just maybe, what we say for ourselves is helpful to others. And being honest about how we "collars" fall far short of the ideals too is important.
I really like Father Matthew Moretz's video on Anglican prayer (see the Vodpod link on the right of the screen and check it out). He talks about praying the Daily Office and he openly admits that while praying the offices in the morning and evening every day are an ideal, he doesn't always live up to it either. That's right, ordination doesn't magically turn you into the consummately spiritually disciplined person most folks might imagine. We use the tools, but imperfectly of course as we are human ... and we are only human. So I'm trying, by the grace of God, to slow down and take time for some focused spiritual disciplines in Advent to prepare, but it happens in fits and starts.
Advent is about waiting ... and not quite knowing what is going to emerge out of the waiting. The people of Israel had waited in expectation for the Messiah ... for 450 years since the return from Babylon. The first Christmas took place in the midst of the anxiety of living in an occupied land. Some had very clear expectations of exactly what Messiah would be - a warrior king who'd kick the Romans out and restore Israel to its former glory and power. Waiting and hoping ... and finding out that the earthly idea of what Messiah should be wasn't what God had in mind!
Perhaps Advent is just as much about letting go of our expectations of what "should be" and instead open our hearts and minds to the unexpected which God can bring. We all have preconceived ideas about things, just like the people living in Palestine 2,000 years ago. But when God breaks through, it often shatters our neatly packaged ideas of how things should be and should work. God's Holy Spirit often brings chaos precisely to shatter the false images we build up about God and our relationships (with each other and God). Our false images are idols - we create them, we hold onto them, and the Holy Spirit comes to smash them.
So I'll let the Holy Spirit smash my images about what my Advent spirituality "should" look like and be content to carve out a few quiet moments to reflect on letting go and letting God do something surprising and new.
----------------
Now playing: Sir Neville Marriner - Past Three a Clock
via FoxyTunes
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