Tribal Church

I had a hard time breathing when I saw those pictures; my chest began heaving when I realized those were birds covered in oil. I felt as if the soul of our nation was drowning in the muck, along with our precious wildlife. You see, for my first job out of seminary, I decided to serve a tiny church in the swamps of Louisiana. I moved to the heart of Cajun country while I was still in my twenties and became a solo pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Abbeville.

I was warned before moving there. Many of my friends worried that my liberal politics and theology would never be tolerated in the town. I considered all of the cautions carefully and tucked them into my pocket when I visited. Then I saw the tangled moss dripping from the trees, the grand oaks hovering over the dirt, and the swampland situated around us. I felt drawn there. Inexplicably, it was as if the land itself was calling me. Of course, it could have just been me. I love the swamps. After growing up in Florida and visiting relatives in South Carolina, the musty smell and damp air feels like home. I tear up every time “Seminole Wind” comes on the radio. I relish Carl Hiaasen’s novels, because they seem to play out all of my very non-pastoral fantasies of extraordinary torment heaped upon those who have unjustly developed that sacred Florida land. For me, the books are like those Psalms in the Bible, the ones that I tremble to utter, because they ask that God will do violence upon our enemies. I learned my primary spiritual discipline in the wetlands: walking meditation. So, in a particular way, I imagine God lives in the swamps.

As I spent the next three years in Louisiana, I found people who sang and danced every chance they got. Art seemed to flow out of their pores, and church potlucks were made up of the best food I’ve ever tasted. When I got sick, I was encouraged to go to the doctor and the traiteur, the healer who lived in the swamps, who used herbs and magical prayers. I learned the poetic expressions that Cajuns and Creoles utter. For instance, if there was a gentle snow on the ground, they would say, “It looks like the baker and his wife got in a fight last night.” I listened to beautiful stories and consumed the great literature that was written in sole of that Louisiana boot. I even experienced my own religion more fully there, because everyone seemed to live by the Liturgical Calendar–the one that marks our church days. To visitors, Mardi Gras may seem like a cheap trick to attract tourists, but once you spend a couple of years there, you realize that it is a celebration that honors a sacred transition. And though I felt like an outsider most of the time, we seemed to share something important — my new friends were bound to the land. There were Cajuns and Creoles who lived in stilted houses, in the midst of the swamps, collecting alligator teeth for jewelry and painting cypress knees.

When I went back to Florida and explained the difficult economic position that many people in South Louisiana are mired in, with oil booms and bust and with hurricanes blowing through, my family and friends would shrug and say, “Why don’t they just move?” I tried to communicate that James Carville is an anomaly. Most Cajuns and Creoles don’t just move. Those swamps have fed their families for hundreds of years. Everyone knows everyone else’s “Mama.” It’s difficult for most of us in the United States to understand people who are driven by something other than economic opportunity. But they are. Cajuns and Creoles have an intimate bond that has been kept alive by deep tradition, loving families, incredible music, flowing art, and that land. Though there are many cultural practices that horrified me, I cannot help but think that South Louisiana, at its creative best, is not just the sole of Louisiana, but the soul of the U.S.

Looking at those white graceful egrets covered in slick, black oil reminds me of what we have done. There is something majestic hidden in that marshland, something that we have destroyed. In many ways, our soul lives there, and it is irreparably damaged. As we struggle to stop the oil from spewing into the Gulf, it will be a task on which every brilliant mind in our country needs to concentrate. As soon as that fatal flow stops and we begin to collect the bodies of the dead wildlife and fish, when we attempt to clean up this disaster, we will have to reflect on our own spirits and our addiction to oil. Why, when we know how much damage our dependence on petroleum causes our earth, do we not concentrate more creativity on developing other means of energy? Why, when we realize that the rapid urbanization of China and India will be an increased strain on our global resources, are we not figuring out ways to drastically reduce our reliance on fossil fuels? Crying out “Drill, baby, drill” in this phase of our history feels to me like begging “More cigarettes, please!” while dying of lung cancer. And like every addiction, it is a reminder that we will need to find physical, as well as spiritual, solutions to our problems. We can no longer neglect our soul.

20 Comments »

As progressive Christians enter Holy Week, we have to stop and ask, what do these days leading up to the commemoration of that cruel death mean? In this particular time in history, our understanding of why Jesus suffered doesn’t always resonate.

(read the rest here)

11 Comments »

I just got off the phone with Bishop John Shelby Spong. I interviewed him for the newly revised God Complex Radio. The podcast will be available on the 29th.

I had so many things that I wanted to ask him, so many things that I wanted to pull apart. I wanted to agree and disagree with him. But, with his disarming, cordial, and (it seemed, from our short conversation) loving demeanor, I mostly listened.

He wrote a new book, and his last book, Eternal Life: A New Vision: Beyond Religion, Beyond Theism, Beyond Heaven and Hell. In it, he looks at death, and, it seems finds new meaning in life.

He talks about religion as an imperfect, human endeavor, and tells how he became more and more alienated from traditional church life…

Increasingly, I saw the church as an organization for the spiritually immature, as a body of children vying for the affirmation of the heavenly parent. I saw the church engaged in a medieval attempt at the manipulation of the divine, and all for our benefit. I saw it increasingly turn into a retreat into unreality. Worship became not communion with the power of life and love, but a drama in which clergy starred. God was addressed in the chanted language of the Middle Ages, language that enhanced little more than the clergy’s desire to perform. Church life seemed more and more dedicated to behavior control, and church politics was always about who’s out and who’s in.

It’s hard for me to read these words. Even though I agree with much of it, I also wear the title “Rev.” I work for the church, alongside many men and women who often have dispiriting jobs, face acute criticism, and are trying to find a bit of hope to share.

Yet, it’s good for me to read them. Bishop Spong is reading the ancient stories and examining the rituals in the midst of scientific realities and the search for truth.

The most beautiful thing about the writing and about our conversation was that emanating love. Bishop Spong has found meaning in the mystical tradition that seeks union with God. Instead of imagining God as “other,” God is the ground of our being.

We talked about being at the bedside of our parishioners. What do we say? Though Bishop Spong does not think that religion should offer meaningless words of comfort, we are often there holding the hand of the dying.

I remember being at the bedside of a woman—a truly beautiful person (and I’m not just saying that because she’s dead). She drew me to her and asked in a whisper, “What’s going to happen?”

I replied, “When you die?”

She said, “Yes.”

And I told her that I didn’t know. I told her that I was not compelled by golden streets or crystal fountains. That imagery did not suit me. But, drawing from Eckhart, I thought that the love of God, from whence she emanated, would surround her and embrace her. Nothing could keep her from the love of God. Not life and not death.

“I see pools,” she replied.

And I never heard another word from her.

I think that Bishop Spong’s new vision is similar. God is the source of love and the source of life. The goal of the church should not be to make us more religious, but to make us more human.

21 Comments »

Kind of literally. Yesterday, I dislocated my shoulder and spent the morning in the emergency room. Now I’m home, but my left (dominant) hand is in a sling.

So, until I’m back in action, you can read my latest post at Duke’s blog.

5 Comments »

This is the liturgy that we use when children celebrate communion:

You can begin by introducing yourself to the children, and by letting them tell you their names. You may say something like, “In the church, Communion is a special meal that we share together, just like Jesus and the disciples did. People in our church are sharing it, people in churches all over the city are sharing it, and people all over the world are sharing this same meal. We begin Communion by praying and telling God what we’re thankful for.”

Let’s pray.

God, we are thankful that you created us,
And that you love us,
Like a friend,
Like a dad,
And like a mom.

We are thankful that Jesus was born
And showed us how to live,
As he fed the hungry,
Cared for the sick,
And ate with his friends.

We are thankful for the Holy Spirit who moves around us like the wind
And helps us to love each other,
By being kind to one another,
By saying nice words to each other,
And by making sure everyone has what they need.

Now, boys and girls, can you tell us what you are thankful for this morning?
(Let them name things, you and the teacher can name things as well)

(When everyone is done, you can show the children the bread and juice)

When we eat this bread and drink this juice,
We remember the night before Jesus died.

He gathered with his friends,
And he took the bread, broke it, and shared it, saying,
“This is my body, broken for you, remember me when you eat it.”

(Pass the bread to the teacher first so the children can see what’s going to happen. The teacher can eat the bread as you say, “[Name], this is the bread of life.” Then give a piece of bread each child, saying “[Name] this is the bread of life.”)

He also took the cup saying,
“This cup is like a new promise, sealed in my blood, when you drink it, remember me.”
(Pass the juice to the teacher and each child, saying, “[Name], this is the cup of new promise.”)

Pray: Thank you God for (you can name the things that the children mentioned) and thank you for these boys and girls. Now that we have shared this special meal together, help us to become more like Jesus. Amen.

No Comments »

I think this has been the longest that I’ve gone without posting. My apologies. I’m just at the end of writing this book, so I want to focus my writing time and energy on it for a bit.

I’ll be back in action soon!

11 Comments »

I’m reading Malcolm Gladwell’s book, Outliers, and it’s really making me uncomfortable in many points. He is talking a lot about particular cultures and how they help/hurt a person’s success. Jewish garment makers in New York City have successful children. Korean airplane pilots have higher incidents of crashes. Chinese rice farmers create good math students.

He is trying to make a point that success or failure is not completely dependent on the individual. It does depend on things like a good start (kids who are older by 10 months at the beginning of a sport are better at that sport for the rest of their lives) and a lot of practice (it takes 10,0000 hours to become good at something). A person’s IQ is not always helpful, if his (so far, Gladwell can’t seem to find one successful woman) culture works against him.

He is explaining a lot of things that I try to clarify as I talk about generational issues. For instance, it is often difficult for people over the age of fifty to understand why adults under the age of forty struggle financially. It seems, since we are living at the same time, the economic boom ought to have helped all of us out.

But, two of the things that helped Boomers financially are buying a house and getting a college education. Since the cost of these two things inflated drastically while adults under forty have been starting out, the very things that used to help with economic security have either put us in great debt, or they have been out of our reach.

Just as being born in January instead of December helps a kid become a great athlete; economically, in our country, being born in 1960 is different than being born in 1980. The sooner churches can begin to understand this, the better off we will be in reaching a new generation.

Another thing that I found interesting was that Gladwell pointed out that there are three things that make a job satisfying (and none of them have to do with money): (1) autonomy, (2) complexity, and (3) a connection between effort and reward.

This seemed incredibly insightful if we think about our calls as church leaders. Usually, if there is trust between the congregation and pastor, if there’s flourishing ministry, we have all three. But, in difficult situations, each one of these things could be compromised, and they could lead to frustration with the profession.

There’s a lot to think about, and write about, but I’m off to Charlotte, North Carolina, to lead a Presbytery event there. I’ll check in later!

6 Comments »

I should post more later… but for now, I need to finish my sermon.

I do want to wish you all a wonderful Christmas. Peace be with you.

1 Comment »

Sorry I’ve been neglecting my blog a bit. October must be a huge conference month, because I have one to two presentations scheduled every week. I have some study leave next week though, so you may be hearing from me more.

On top of the traveling and speaking, I’m teaching this on-line course for Andover Newton Theological School, and we’re having a discussion about young adults and economic understanding. And we’re wondering if there are any good resources for stewardship for young adults. You know… something that realizes how much we are in debt, but still encourages a spirit of generosity and discipline.

Know of anything?

6 Comments »

About a year ago I wrote this. And with great sadness, I report things are not as rosy as the camp predicted it would be. I invite you to visit Ruth’s blog to find out more and discuss.

No Comments »