“Even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that is something that God intended to happen." -- Richard Mourdock
No doubt you have read or heard about the quote above and the firestorm that has followed it. Among a great many other comments, it provoked this blog post from Susan Russell. The blog post itself is about the mistake of writing our own theological convictions into law in a secular democracy. I'm with Susan on that one--if we are against a country instituting Sharia law as their civil law, why are so many of the same people eager to write evangelical Christian theology into law in this country? Yes, we do legislate morality--from the regulations we support to the tax breaks we give--but it should be a morality common to the vast majority of citizens, not the interpretation of a shrinking faction of them.
But that isn't what I want to blog about. I want to talk about the flawed theology the under-girds Mr. Mourdock's statement: the idea that everything that happens to us is under God's control. If it happened, then God intended it to happen.
This theology is most often expressed, unhelpfully, in the wake of a tragedy. I've especially heard it after the untimely death of a loved one. Phrases like "God must have needed him in heaven" or "God meant for this to happen" or "God must have some reason for doing this" are attempts to make sense of the senseless--and to hang that effort on the belief that God controls each and every thing that happens in this world. Even insurance companies use the term "act of God" to describe a natural disaster.
Books can and have been written about why bad things happen to good people. The point is that ever since the Garden of Eden, there have been two things that blocked God's will from being done in the world: human sin and random chance. If one accepts the Garden of Eden story even as an allegory, the question comes up: Did God intend for Eve to eat the apple? No, he specifically told her not to do so. Why did he even put the forbidden tree in the garden? Because following God's will without a choice is not discipleship, it is slavery. The Bible is filled with people who were asked to make choices about their lives and the results of those choices.
It is also the case that the world functions via natural laws--tidal waves, hurricanes, earthquakes, storms and other natural phenomena don't ask whether or not there are people living in that place--the event happens regardless of whether there are two or two million people living there. Along side natural law is random chance--in other words, stuff happens. God may be omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient, but God has chosen not to control everything that happens in the world. Just as human beings have free choice about whether they follow God's direction or not, the world is also not subject to God's direction. Evil exists. Disease happens. The world is a fallen, imperfect place. It is not the Kingdom of God.
All of this provides, or should provide a sense of perspective to the Christian. Whoever ends up winning the election in a little more than a week or so, God will still be God and the world will still have the problems and challenges that it has. The way we deal with those issues as people of faith is probably more important than even this issues themselves. God does not cause tragedy, but God does help us deal with tragedy. And that is an act of God.
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
From Assembly Line to Artisan
I am a huge fan of RSA, and more specifically the RSAnimate video series. Recently, I ran across a great video from 2010 discussing the huge challenges facing education in the twenty-first century. Check it out here:
I think the author, Sir Ken Robinson, makes some excellent points. I began formal schooling nearly 40 years ago. When I began, we did do a lot of playing, interacting with the world, and (yes) learning in the process. Fairly quickly, however, we ended up in a classroom with rows of desks, teachers in front of blackboards, heavy textbooks which we were not permitted to write in, and, increasingly, being taught subjects we had no interest in and many of which seem to have no practical application. So, now my children are in school and what fantastic progress has been made in almost 40 years? Well, there is more "group work" and children sitting in "pods" of four to six children (which has its own problems for those of us who are introverts, as this video points out). There certainly are more computers, smart boards, and other technology. White boards with pens have replaced blackboards with chalk. There is a lot more standardized testing.
Aside from all of that, kids are still being stuffed into classrooms with teachers in front of white boards, taught subjects of questionable utility from heavy textbooks (which they're still prohibited from writing in) and penalized if they don't find this as scintillating as conversations with one another or staring out the window, of which there are increasingly few. The comparison to a factory churning out groups of standardized students made in the video is painfully apt. We appear to be doing almost exactly the same teaching, with some technical modifications and "improvements" as we did four decades ago.
That lack of progress would be enough of a tragedy, but it is compounded by the fact that the world in which we are training our children to take their place as contributing citizens not only will not exist when they graduate, it does not exist now. We live in a hyper-networked world where I can more easily contact someone halfway around the world than I can run down the hallway and see them face-to-face. We have access to more information in less time than anyone in human history. The speed of innovation is increasing exponentially--and our institutions and infrastructure are imploding.
From politics, to nonprofits, to corporations, and even to the church, institutions that launched the Baby Boomers into the world as arguably the most successful generation in history are crumbling in the face of a lack of common purpose, a lack of money, and a lack of a compelling rationale for their continued existence. Rather than seizing this opportunity to re-make the world with the revolutionary fervor of the 1960s, most of those Boomers and Xers in power are fighting a doomed fight to preserve what can be preserved of what was. And, sadly, they are being rewarded for doing so by constituents and consumers in a sort of "race to the bottom."
The solution is easy to say and difficult to implement--primary because it requires qualities that our parents and grandparents had but which seem increasingly in short supply: sacrifice and courage. We need to acknowledge the reality that some long-cherished things are dead or in their final stages of life. We need to think creatively about how to re-make the United States as a successful twenty-first century country in a twenty-first century world, and we need to reward politicians and corporate leaders for truth-telling and courageous leadership rather than for telling us what we want to hear. And we need to do this now, before a generation or two of people emerges that are ill-equipped to deal with twenty-first century realities and can only watch helplessly as things (sometimes literally) sink beneath the waves. It is also going to require that we recognize that the world has moved from the assembly-line back to the artisan, the craftsman, this time in the craftsmanship of the mind. We need to reward and enhance creative thinking rather than penalizing it--because we can't keep doing what we've been doing for the last half-century.
I think we can do all of this, but it is going to require us to resist easy answers, to know that the economic party of the 1990s and 2000s is over, and begin the make the adaptive changes needed rather than simply doing some technical tweaking.
Here ends the sermon.
I think the author, Sir Ken Robinson, makes some excellent points. I began formal schooling nearly 40 years ago. When I began, we did do a lot of playing, interacting with the world, and (yes) learning in the process. Fairly quickly, however, we ended up in a classroom with rows of desks, teachers in front of blackboards, heavy textbooks which we were not permitted to write in, and, increasingly, being taught subjects we had no interest in and many of which seem to have no practical application. So, now my children are in school and what fantastic progress has been made in almost 40 years? Well, there is more "group work" and children sitting in "pods" of four to six children (which has its own problems for those of us who are introverts, as this video points out). There certainly are more computers, smart boards, and other technology. White boards with pens have replaced blackboards with chalk. There is a lot more standardized testing.
Aside from all of that, kids are still being stuffed into classrooms with teachers in front of white boards, taught subjects of questionable utility from heavy textbooks (which they're still prohibited from writing in) and penalized if they don't find this as scintillating as conversations with one another or staring out the window, of which there are increasingly few. The comparison to a factory churning out groups of standardized students made in the video is painfully apt. We appear to be doing almost exactly the same teaching, with some technical modifications and "improvements" as we did four decades ago.
That lack of progress would be enough of a tragedy, but it is compounded by the fact that the world in which we are training our children to take their place as contributing citizens not only will not exist when they graduate, it does not exist now. We live in a hyper-networked world where I can more easily contact someone halfway around the world than I can run down the hallway and see them face-to-face. We have access to more information in less time than anyone in human history. The speed of innovation is increasing exponentially--and our institutions and infrastructure are imploding.
From politics, to nonprofits, to corporations, and even to the church, institutions that launched the Baby Boomers into the world as arguably the most successful generation in history are crumbling in the face of a lack of common purpose, a lack of money, and a lack of a compelling rationale for their continued existence. Rather than seizing this opportunity to re-make the world with the revolutionary fervor of the 1960s, most of those Boomers and Xers in power are fighting a doomed fight to preserve what can be preserved of what was. And, sadly, they are being rewarded for doing so by constituents and consumers in a sort of "race to the bottom."
The solution is easy to say and difficult to implement--primary because it requires qualities that our parents and grandparents had but which seem increasingly in short supply: sacrifice and courage. We need to acknowledge the reality that some long-cherished things are dead or in their final stages of life. We need to think creatively about how to re-make the United States as a successful twenty-first century country in a twenty-first century world, and we need to reward politicians and corporate leaders for truth-telling and courageous leadership rather than for telling us what we want to hear. And we need to do this now, before a generation or two of people emerges that are ill-equipped to deal with twenty-first century realities and can only watch helplessly as things (sometimes literally) sink beneath the waves. It is also going to require that we recognize that the world has moved from the assembly-line back to the artisan, the craftsman, this time in the craftsmanship of the mind. We need to reward and enhance creative thinking rather than penalizing it--because we can't keep doing what we've been doing for the last half-century.
I think we can do all of this, but it is going to require us to resist easy answers, to know that the economic party of the 1990s and 2000s is over, and begin the make the adaptive changes needed rather than simply doing some technical tweaking.
Here ends the sermon.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Semi-Happy New Year
Among the various things said today "Happy New Year" and "Thank God 2008 is over" seem to be the most common. There seems to be a collective breath-holding at work as many people both anticipate the upcoming inauguration of President-elect Barack Obama and cast wary eyes to the faltering economy, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the new flare-up of conflict in Gaza. 2009 is set to either be the year that things begin to turn around or the year that things continue to slide.
Perhaps I'm projecting, but 2009 also looks as if it will be a pivotal year for the church as well. Culture wars continue to rage, the economy is sliding, and there does not appear to be a lot of signs of the mainline church reconnecting to the surrounding culture. The Episcopal Church has its triennial General Convention this summer which will no doubt result in some controversy, a few headlines, and many resolutions expressing the church's position on various world issues, most of which no one who is not already in the Episcopal Church will pay the least bit of attention to. So, some hope, some fear, some talking to ourselves, and we'll see what else. I'm sure God will show up in some form as well, as befits the celebration of Epiphany in a few days.
Perhaps I'm projecting, but 2009 also looks as if it will be a pivotal year for the church as well. Culture wars continue to rage, the economy is sliding, and there does not appear to be a lot of signs of the mainline church reconnecting to the surrounding culture. The Episcopal Church has its triennial General Convention this summer which will no doubt result in some controversy, a few headlines, and many resolutions expressing the church's position on various world issues, most of which no one who is not already in the Episcopal Church will pay the least bit of attention to. So, some hope, some fear, some talking to ourselves, and we'll see what else. I'm sure God will show up in some form as well, as befits the celebration of Epiphany in a few days.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Theology, Ecclesiology, and Real Life
I'm an ardent fan of Fr. Jake's blog, though I suspect he and I would disagree on any number of theological questions. However, I return again and again to his blog because I find his comments sincere and thought-provoking. I ran across the following on his blog tonight:
Now one can argue theology (study of God) or ecclesiology (study of the church), debate and discuss what this or that bishop thinks about this or that theological concept, or a host of other items making the rounds of blogs across the church and newspapers around the world. I can spend long afternoons surfing from blog to blog in the nice comfy living room in the house of the person I'm house-sitting for in Hawaii. I have that luxury. The folks who sent the postcards above do not have that luxury. I suspect many of them stagger through life trying to put enough of the pieces together to get through each day. Many, if not most, have absolutely no idea that there even is a God, much less that God loves them and desires the closest of relationships with them. Some of the later postcards begin to express hope and a sense of being valued, even loved. Such transformation is what everyone, including those of us who pretend we have it all together, longs for.
In my decades of experience in the institutional church, I've rarely seen that sort of radical transformation, or even much in the way of minor transformation. I suspect that some of that is just that we are uncomfortable when speaking of God's action, and so such action in the lives of others remains hidden to most of us, whether clergy or laity. I think that we also are challenged in that we don't often expect God to work in even moderately miraculous ways, so either miss that action or are unavailable for God's blessings.
One example of the "lostness" that I mentioned above occurred even within the most luxurious of locations. We went down to the Hilton Hawaiian tonight for ice cream. My wife mentioned the rather sullen and bored teenager she noticed who was getting ice cream, alone, at 9:30 p.m., and charging it to her room. We wondered if her parents just told her "go find something to do." We were reminded that even those who can afford to spend a week or two at a fine luxury resort in Hawaii aren't necessarily doing so with the idea of spending "quality time" with their family. Perhaps we were reading more into that scene then was warranted, but with so much opulence (including the on-site wedding chapel) around us, it was hard not to look on that with a slightly jaundiced eye.
So the next time I get wrapped up in the trials and tribulations of the church, perhaps stepping outside my office and heading down to the local homeless shelter, or even to Starbucks or the local country club and doing a little people-watching might bring a little perspective. We are called to be the light of the world, for people sunk in darkness, not to fight about the light fixture...
Now one can argue theology (study of God) or ecclesiology (study of the church), debate and discuss what this or that bishop thinks about this or that theological concept, or a host of other items making the rounds of blogs across the church and newspapers around the world. I can spend long afternoons surfing from blog to blog in the nice comfy living room in the house of the person I'm house-sitting for in Hawaii. I have that luxury. The folks who sent the postcards above do not have that luxury. I suspect many of them stagger through life trying to put enough of the pieces together to get through each day. Many, if not most, have absolutely no idea that there even is a God, much less that God loves them and desires the closest of relationships with them. Some of the later postcards begin to express hope and a sense of being valued, even loved. Such transformation is what everyone, including those of us who pretend we have it all together, longs for.
In my decades of experience in the institutional church, I've rarely seen that sort of radical transformation, or even much in the way of minor transformation. I suspect that some of that is just that we are uncomfortable when speaking of God's action, and so such action in the lives of others remains hidden to most of us, whether clergy or laity. I think that we also are challenged in that we don't often expect God to work in even moderately miraculous ways, so either miss that action or are unavailable for God's blessings.
One example of the "lostness" that I mentioned above occurred even within the most luxurious of locations. We went down to the Hilton Hawaiian tonight for ice cream. My wife mentioned the rather sullen and bored teenager she noticed who was getting ice cream, alone, at 9:30 p.m., and charging it to her room. We wondered if her parents just told her "go find something to do." We were reminded that even those who can afford to spend a week or two at a fine luxury resort in Hawaii aren't necessarily doing so with the idea of spending "quality time" with their family. Perhaps we were reading more into that scene then was warranted, but with so much opulence (including the on-site wedding chapel) around us, it was hard not to look on that with a slightly jaundiced eye.
So the next time I get wrapped up in the trials and tribulations of the church, perhaps stepping outside my office and heading down to the local homeless shelter, or even to Starbucks or the local country club and doing a little people-watching might bring a little perspective. We are called to be the light of the world, for people sunk in darkness, not to fight about the light fixture...
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Culture and Congregations
I've spent the last week navigating my way through the first week of a four week program (two weeks per year for two years) of the Church Development Institute (CDI). After some time in which we were invited and encouraged to notice and analyze our interactions in a small group context, the latter part of the week has been taken up with visiting three different parishes: St. Mark's Cathedral, Trinity, and St. Paul's, our host parish. My own group was assigned to return to St. Paul's this morning to experience the worship and the other Sunday morning activities. Tomorrow, we will meet in teams to further discuss and analyze our experiences. The point of all this was to take note of the culture of each parish: the ways they work, the named things that are important in their life together, and underlying assumptions. All this, presumably, is in preparation for doing this work in our own parishes and/or in those with whom we consult.
I think my biggest learning from this week is summarized in the words of The Rev. Melissa Skelton, Rector of St. Paul's. When referring to several items in the parish's worship space, she talked about "loving it, and wanting more." As we talked in CDI about the fact that it is nearly impossible to change the culture of a parish, it became quite clear to me that whatever my Congregational Development Project is for St. Alban's, it will need to first involve loving what already is good about the parish, and only then wanting more. My enthusiasm often makes me want to push for immediate solutions or changes. I am learning that such solutions or changes, even if needed, take years rather than months.
A bonus to this weekend was that I was able to visit Church of the Apostles (COTA), an emergent church in Seattle led by Pastor Karen Ward, who I met many years ago. I attended the service with both some folks from my CDI program and some old and new friends in town for a college chaplains conference. Turns out it was one of COTA's "alt" services, an alternative service format that in this case focused around the theme of process or journey being more important than product or destination. The elements of the of the service were prayer, Eucharist, "open space" (where we were invited to visit several stations for prayer, walking the labyrinth taped on the floor or other creative efforts), songs, and stories. They were done in a completely random order which illustrated the process theme. I loved the songs, and enjoyed the experience, though it is not overall something that would regularly feed me spiritually.
Now, onto another week. We'll continue to debrief our parish visits analyze the cultures of the various parishes we visited, then go on to lay the groundwork for an eventual Congregational Development Project. It will be interesting to see how that dovetails with the Mission Plan that has already been put in place and is in the process of being implemented at St. Alban's.
I think my biggest learning from this week is summarized in the words of The Rev. Melissa Skelton, Rector of St. Paul's. When referring to several items in the parish's worship space, she talked about "loving it, and wanting more." As we talked in CDI about the fact that it is nearly impossible to change the culture of a parish, it became quite clear to me that whatever my Congregational Development Project is for St. Alban's, it will need to first involve loving what already is good about the parish, and only then wanting more. My enthusiasm often makes me want to push for immediate solutions or changes. I am learning that such solutions or changes, even if needed, take years rather than months.
A bonus to this weekend was that I was able to visit Church of the Apostles (COTA), an emergent church in Seattle led by Pastor Karen Ward, who I met many years ago. I attended the service with both some folks from my CDI program and some old and new friends in town for a college chaplains conference. Turns out it was one of COTA's "alt" services, an alternative service format that in this case focused around the theme of process or journey being more important than product or destination. The elements of the of the service were prayer, Eucharist, "open space" (where we were invited to visit several stations for prayer, walking the labyrinth taped on the floor or other creative efforts), songs, and stories. They were done in a completely random order which illustrated the process theme. I loved the songs, and enjoyed the experience, though it is not overall something that would regularly feed me spiritually.
Now, onto another week. We'll continue to debrief our parish visits analyze the cultures of the various parishes we visited, then go on to lay the groundwork for an eventual Congregational Development Project. It will be interesting to see how that dovetails with the Mission Plan that has already been put in place and is in the process of being implemented at St. Alban's.
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