It was the fall of 1978. I was in Grade 4. Our teacher had a practise whereby the first block of time after lunch on Friday's he would read to us, generally a whole chapter. The first book he read to us that year was The Hobbit. So began my love affair with Middle-Earth.
As it happened, my dad had (and still has) a box set of Tolkien books on the shelf at home (which I think was fairly new at the time) and so as I grew tired of the chapter a week pace I started to read the book by myself. I quickly passed the out-loud reading and was well into Lord of the Rings by the time Mr Davies finished the book in the class.
I have, of course, read the book many many times since then, though I think it has been 15-20 years since my last reading.
What is it about this book that makes it worth multiple readings? Is it the story? Partly Is it Bilbo's growth over his "There and Back Again"? Partly But there is just something that grabs me, just as it grabbed me 25 years ago. Once again I eagerly traveled from Bag End and the Unexpected Party to Rivendell, to the Halls of the Elven-King, to the Lonely Mountain. Yes I knew what was coming. But still it is worth reading. It is, after all, a classic.
Now I just have to find a way to convince the girls to let me read it to them.......
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Book 1 of 2014 --The Silmarillion
AS I mentioned in the previous post, on the first Tuesday of this year I discovered a series of Webinars dealing with Unfinished Tales by JRR Tolkien. AS I was watching the first one I thought to myself "it has been too long since I read those books". And so one of my goals for the year was formed....
Where do you start when sitting down to read Tolkien? THe order in which they were published? (WHich would be The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales and then the many volumes of the History of Middle Earth series). There is a logic to that, and certainly Hobbit is the most accessible read of the bunch. But of course I am not a newbie to Middle Earth (my introduction to Tolkien will be discussed in the next post). And so the next logical choice is to read the books in "chronological" order (sort of like if I read the Narnia Chronicles now I start with The Magician's Nephew but for a newbie to Narnia I would always suggest they start with The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe).
And so I went downstairs and grabbed my old, well-worn copy of The Silmarillion off the shelf. It is the copy I received as a Christmas gift 30+ years ago. I can not remember the last time I read the book....
For those who are less familiar, this book is the history of the First Ages of Middle Earth. It begins with Creation, and follows through the struggles of the Eldar and the Edain against Morgoth in the War of the Jewels. Then there is an account of the downfall of Numenor, which leads directly to Elendil and his sons returning to middle-Earth and creating the realms of Gondor and Arnor.
For those who have only read The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings this is a different book. But I like it. It is a quick read (I started Tuesday night and finished it by the end of that week -- although the challenge in reading a book I know so well is to take the time to find new insights in it), but you get to explore the grey-ness of an epic struggle between good and evil over a number of fields and ages. And it sets the stage for what comes after...
Where do you start when sitting down to read Tolkien? THe order in which they were published? (WHich would be The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales and then the many volumes of the History of Middle Earth series). There is a logic to that, and certainly Hobbit is the most accessible read of the bunch. But of course I am not a newbie to Middle Earth (my introduction to Tolkien will be discussed in the next post). And so the next logical choice is to read the books in "chronological" order (sort of like if I read the Narnia Chronicles now I start with The Magician's Nephew but for a newbie to Narnia I would always suggest they start with The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe).
And so I went downstairs and grabbed my old, well-worn copy of The Silmarillion off the shelf. It is the copy I received as a Christmas gift 30+ years ago. I can not remember the last time I read the book....
For those who are less familiar, this book is the history of the First Ages of Middle Earth. It begins with Creation, and follows through the struggles of the Eldar and the Edain against Morgoth in the War of the Jewels. Then there is an account of the downfall of Numenor, which leads directly to Elendil and his sons returning to middle-Earth and creating the realms of Gondor and Arnor.
For those who have only read The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings this is a different book. But I like it. It is a quick read (I started Tuesday night and finished it by the end of that week -- although the challenge in reading a book I know so well is to take the time to find new insights in it), but you get to explore the grey-ness of an epic struggle between good and evil over a number of fields and ages. And it sets the stage for what comes after...
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Gift? Punishment? Blessing? Burden?
Which of those things is death?
Earlier this month I stumbled on to Mythgard Academy. Both of the last two Tuesdays I have sat in on the free webinars (or at least the beginning of them before having to play chauffeur) exploring Tolkien's Unfinished Tales. A comment made in the second one sparked the thoughts leading to this post.
But first I think we need some background....
In the mythology of Middle Earth as presented in the Silmarillion, there are two races who are referred to as the Children of Iluvatar. These are Elves and Men. Elves are immortal, unless they are slain they will live forever. Men are mortal. Not only do they die of old age but they are far more likely to die from wounds and are susceptible to illness. It is stated, repeatedly, that this death is teh gift of Iluvatar to men. They are not bound to the world. Elves, it is said, grow weary of the world but are bound to it, they do not have the release of death. (It is my belief that this world-weariness is far more a fate of those elves who have left the Undying Lands to live in Middle-Earth proper and/or those who are born in Middle-Earth. Does one grow weary of living in Paradise?)
But the nature of life is that Men have difficulty seeing death as a gift. It seems more like an unfair burden. And they chafe at it. The downfall of Numenor, the island of the Gift, was brought about largely because of this issue. The last king of Numenor, in his vanity and arrogance (and egged on by Sauron) sailed with a mighty fleet to the Undying Lands to wrest immortality from the Valar. To be fair the Elves also have trouble understanding death as a gift, but they may not taste the bitterness of the gift quite as directly (with the notable exceptions of Luthien in the Elder Days and Arwen in the early years of the Fourth Age).
In the webinar last Tuesday the presenter mentioned that Tolkien claimed nothing in his Middle-Earth mythology was in contradiction to standard Roman Catholic theology. It was then mentioned that questions have been raise in this regard when it comes to the idea of death as a gift (remember Silmarillion, Unfiinshed Tales, and all the other books that have come afterwards -- there are a fair number--have been published after Tolkien's death by his son Christopher so Tolkien himself has not necessarily been a part of these discussions). It was also mentioned that there is a hint in one of the volumes of the History of Middle Earth series of a "Garden of Eden" type of story. So is death the Gift of Iluvatar? Or is it a punishment because the earliest fathers of men in Middle-Earth had their own Fall at the hands/instigation of Morgoth?
But what is the "proper" theology of death in our world? Is death solely a punishment accruing from the Fall as described in Genesis 3, a result of having been turfed out of Eden and no longer able to access the Tree of Life? Or have we as humans done what the men of Middle-Earth have done when it comes to death? Have we taken something that was part of ing, part of existence, possibly even a gift and turned it into something terrible and against God's plan?
The Men of Middle-Earth, for a variety of reasons, generally see death as a burden, not a release, not a gift. They seek ways to avoid it. They embalm the bodies of their dead in a statement against death's bitterness. Does this sound familiar?
What if death, particularly a natural death after a life well-lived in old age, is not the enemy? What if death was always a part of being alive? Not a punishment for wrongdoing, but merely a part of reality. What if the Fall was not the beginning of death but the beginning of humanity's struggle with death?
How many people in their later years have expressed a weariness, a wondering why they are still around? How many families, at the end, have referred to the death of a loved one, particularly after a long or trying illness, as a release or relief too long in the coming?
What if death is, in a way a gift?? A double-bladed bitter gift too be sure. But is there a way or a time when it is a gift from God? What is the "proper" theological approach to death?
I suspect it is somewhere between simple acceptance and Dylan Thomas' admonition "Do not go gentle into that good night". It may be part gift, part burden, depending on a variety of circumstances. In the Appendicies of Lord of the Rings we read of the death of Aragorn. To Aragorn is given the opportunity to embrace his death peacefully before it is forced upon him in a period of dotage. It is bitter for Arwen to watch happen, but it is embraced peacefully as a gift. Maybe there are times when that would in fact be healthier for us too. SO maybe Tolkien's theology is right after all...
Earlier this month I stumbled on to Mythgard Academy. Both of the last two Tuesdays I have sat in on the free webinars (or at least the beginning of them before having to play chauffeur) exploring Tolkien's Unfinished Tales. A comment made in the second one sparked the thoughts leading to this post.
But first I think we need some background....
In the mythology of Middle Earth as presented in the Silmarillion, there are two races who are referred to as the Children of Iluvatar. These are Elves and Men. Elves are immortal, unless they are slain they will live forever. Men are mortal. Not only do they die of old age but they are far more likely to die from wounds and are susceptible to illness. It is stated, repeatedly, that this death is teh gift of Iluvatar to men. They are not bound to the world. Elves, it is said, grow weary of the world but are bound to it, they do not have the release of death. (It is my belief that this world-weariness is far more a fate of those elves who have left the Undying Lands to live in Middle-Earth proper and/or those who are born in Middle-Earth. Does one grow weary of living in Paradise?)
But the nature of life is that Men have difficulty seeing death as a gift. It seems more like an unfair burden. And they chafe at it. The downfall of Numenor, the island of the Gift, was brought about largely because of this issue. The last king of Numenor, in his vanity and arrogance (and egged on by Sauron) sailed with a mighty fleet to the Undying Lands to wrest immortality from the Valar. To be fair the Elves also have trouble understanding death as a gift, but they may not taste the bitterness of the gift quite as directly (with the notable exceptions of Luthien in the Elder Days and Arwen in the early years of the Fourth Age).
In the webinar last Tuesday the presenter mentioned that Tolkien claimed nothing in his Middle-Earth mythology was in contradiction to standard Roman Catholic theology. It was then mentioned that questions have been raise in this regard when it comes to the idea of death as a gift (remember Silmarillion, Unfiinshed Tales, and all the other books that have come afterwards -- there are a fair number--have been published after Tolkien's death by his son Christopher so Tolkien himself has not necessarily been a part of these discussions). It was also mentioned that there is a hint in one of the volumes of the History of Middle Earth series of a "Garden of Eden" type of story. So is death the Gift of Iluvatar? Or is it a punishment because the earliest fathers of men in Middle-Earth had their own Fall at the hands/instigation of Morgoth?
But what is the "proper" theology of death in our world? Is death solely a punishment accruing from the Fall as described in Genesis 3, a result of having been turfed out of Eden and no longer able to access the Tree of Life? Or have we as humans done what the men of Middle-Earth have done when it comes to death? Have we taken something that was part of ing, part of existence, possibly even a gift and turned it into something terrible and against God's plan?
The Men of Middle-Earth, for a variety of reasons, generally see death as a burden, not a release, not a gift. They seek ways to avoid it. They embalm the bodies of their dead in a statement against death's bitterness. Does this sound familiar?
What if death, particularly a natural death after a life well-lived in old age, is not the enemy? What if death was always a part of being alive? Not a punishment for wrongdoing, but merely a part of reality. What if the Fall was not the beginning of death but the beginning of humanity's struggle with death?
How many people in their later years have expressed a weariness, a wondering why they are still around? How many families, at the end, have referred to the death of a loved one, particularly after a long or trying illness, as a release or relief too long in the coming?
What if death is, in a way a gift?? A double-bladed bitter gift too be sure. But is there a way or a time when it is a gift from God? What is the "proper" theological approach to death?
I suspect it is somewhere between simple acceptance and Dylan Thomas' admonition "Do not go gentle into that good night". It may be part gift, part burden, depending on a variety of circumstances. In the Appendicies of Lord of the Rings we read of the death of Aragorn. To Aragorn is given the opportunity to embrace his death peacefully before it is forced upon him in a period of dotage. It is bitter for Arwen to watch happen, but it is embraced peacefully as a gift. Maybe there are times when that would in fact be healthier for us too. SO maybe Tolkien's theology is right after all...
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
Book 11 of 2013 -- Pastrix
And I was right. Bolz-Weber tells her story with honesty and open-ness. And in doing so casts a different light on the Gospel as she interacts with it.
There were a couple of times as I was reading her story that I saw a way to preach annual festivals (Baptism of Jesus and Easter) in a slightly different tack. I especially liked her image of Jesus with the dirt of his tomb under his fingernails....
I would suggest this as a light, enjoyable, and very worthwhile read
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Of Snow, and Snow and Removal thereof...
Thus far this winter it has been fairly safe to say that if it is a day ending in Y then you will need to go out and shovel....
I first started thinking about this post 2 weeks ago when this story came out (for those readers who still think in feet and inches, 30cm=1 foot, 100cm=39 inches).
In Canadian cities (and I assume many other places) there are two favoured winter past-times. Complaining about snow plowing/removal and complaining about property taxes. Lots of times they get combined -- such as "for the insane amount of taxes we pay the streets should be plowed as soon as it snows".
This winter has been no exception. But it HAS been an exceptional winter. As the link above states, a seasonal average snowfall is 154cm. Up to two weeks ago we already had 132. Twice the average in November and 3x the average for December by the middle of the month (note today I found this story which shows we have had another 35 or so centimeters in the last 2 weeks -- much of it in the last week, as the snow pile beside our fence shows). A week before Christmas I heard someone who was born and raised here say that the snow piles looked normal--for March.
So in an area that averages 154cm of snow in a winter we have now had about 177cm in two months. Would anybody care to guess what people's opinions on snow plowing are?
Well I am sure there are a lot of people being realistic and fair....
I KNOW there are a lot of people whose expectations are, well, unrealistic. Yes snow removal is not happening nearly as fast as anyone (including the city) would like. But when it never stops coming what can you do?
THe city has a fairly logical plan that they do Priority 1 and 2 roads (arterials, bus routes that sort of thing) first and then start working their way through the residential streets. And in a normal year they hope to get to all residential streets 3 times (they even post the rotation so folks can see what order neighbourhoods are being done in and where they are at in the cycle). Makes perfect sense to me. Of course the job is not made easier by the large number of people who (for whatever reason) park on the street, even when signage says not to to allow for snow clearing or by the fact that in most of the city the sidewalk is right on the street so all the snow needs to be piled into windrows and trucked away, or piled on the sidewalk (which has a whole set of other problems) rather than being piled on a boulevard. And of course when it never seems to stop snowing then you never get past Priority 1 or 2 roadways anyway (and Priority 2 roads, which are No Parking as snow routes Nov-May still seem to have lots of cars on them)
But there seem to be a whole bunch of people who expect residential streets to be done within 48 hours of a snowfall. And so as December rolled on and some places had not seen a plow at all after 132 cm of snow there was a lot of flak. So the city instituted a temporary solution. To get streets passable they would do a quick plow, with the goal to get the surface flat not go down to pavement, and leave piles on sidewalks and driveways for residents to clear. And while some people applauded that emergency measures were being taken (and I for one would argue that they could/should have made that decision a week earlier) it just gave some people something else to whine about.
But hear is the thing. No matter how much snow falls there are only so many plowing hours available. Drivers need days off. You can only clear so much roadway an hour. and the equipment and wages that are used for snow removal are paid by taxes. So you can not logically complain about needing more service and ask to pay less taxes in the same sentence. Right?
And well I do believe there is a time for debate the snow removal plan and discuss whether it is adequate, no plan would match a year like this. I would suggest that the city is too reliant on contractors in an average year as it is, which means that in a year like this you have already tapped the resources that are available, so it is hard to ramp up even more. So yes, maybe there is a discussion to be held -- though at the same time I have seen an improvement in snow removal each of the last two years. But despite what some people seem to want, it is not responsible to plan so that in the exceptional year you can provide the same level of service as an average* year--then in a normal or sub-average year you have massive investments sitting idle. And imagine the tax complaints when that happened. I would suggest the best plan is to have a structure to deal with a "heavy average" year, with a level of resources that leaves some untapped ones in the plan to call forth in a heavier year.
In the meantime let's be thankful that we have snow plows. And that snow is not like an ice storm that throws thousands into a blackout. And maybe someone can turn off the tap on the snow machine for a few weeks? Please?
*I also have to mention that average is a hard thing to use in these discussions. I assume when they say average the mean the mean which is calculated by adding however many years worth of data they are using and dividing. I would suggest a more helpful metric would be the mode which is the most common value in the data set. Of course if patterns are consistent both those values should be fairly close together.
 |
| This pile has had its top knocked off 2x this year |
I first started thinking about this post 2 weeks ago when this story came out (for those readers who still think in feet and inches, 30cm=1 foot, 100cm=39 inches).
In Canadian cities (and I assume many other places) there are two favoured winter past-times. Complaining about snow plowing/removal and complaining about property taxes. Lots of times they get combined -- such as "for the insane amount of taxes we pay the streets should be plowed as soon as it snows".
This winter has been no exception. But it HAS been an exceptional winter. As the link above states, a seasonal average snowfall is 154cm. Up to two weeks ago we already had 132. Twice the average in November and 3x the average for December by the middle of the month (note today I found this story which shows we have had another 35 or so centimeters in the last 2 weeks -- much of it in the last week, as the snow pile beside our fence shows). A week before Christmas I heard someone who was born and raised here say that the snow piles looked normal--for March.
 |
| This pile had been completely cleared on Saturday afternoon (and does not include last night's dump of 4 inches or so) |
Well I am sure there are a lot of people being realistic and fair....
I KNOW there are a lot of people whose expectations are, well, unrealistic. Yes snow removal is not happening nearly as fast as anyone (including the city) would like. But when it never stops coming what can you do?
THe city has a fairly logical plan that they do Priority 1 and 2 roads (arterials, bus routes that sort of thing) first and then start working their way through the residential streets. And in a normal year they hope to get to all residential streets 3 times (they even post the rotation so folks can see what order neighbourhoods are being done in and where they are at in the cycle). Makes perfect sense to me. Of course the job is not made easier by the large number of people who (for whatever reason) park on the street, even when signage says not to to allow for snow clearing or by the fact that in most of the city the sidewalk is right on the street so all the snow needs to be piled into windrows and trucked away, or piled on the sidewalk (which has a whole set of other problems) rather than being piled on a boulevard. And of course when it never seems to stop snowing then you never get past Priority 1 or 2 roadways anyway (and Priority 2 roads, which are No Parking as snow routes Nov-May still seem to have lots of cars on them)
But there seem to be a whole bunch of people who expect residential streets to be done within 48 hours of a snowfall. And so as December rolled on and some places had not seen a plow at all after 132 cm of snow there was a lot of flak. So the city instituted a temporary solution. To get streets passable they would do a quick plow, with the goal to get the surface flat not go down to pavement, and leave piles on sidewalks and driveways for residents to clear. And while some people applauded that emergency measures were being taken (and I for one would argue that they could/should have made that decision a week earlier) it just gave some people something else to whine about.
But hear is the thing. No matter how much snow falls there are only so many plowing hours available. Drivers need days off. You can only clear so much roadway an hour. and the equipment and wages that are used for snow removal are paid by taxes. So you can not logically complain about needing more service and ask to pay less taxes in the same sentence. Right?
And well I do believe there is a time for debate the snow removal plan and discuss whether it is adequate, no plan would match a year like this. I would suggest that the city is too reliant on contractors in an average year as it is, which means that in a year like this you have already tapped the resources that are available, so it is hard to ramp up even more. So yes, maybe there is a discussion to be held -- though at the same time I have seen an improvement in snow removal each of the last two years. But despite what some people seem to want, it is not responsible to plan so that in the exceptional year you can provide the same level of service as an average* year--then in a normal or sub-average year you have massive investments sitting idle. And imagine the tax complaints when that happened. I would suggest the best plan is to have a structure to deal with a "heavy average" year, with a level of resources that leaves some untapped ones in the plan to call forth in a heavier year.
In the meantime let's be thankful that we have snow plows. And that snow is not like an ice storm that throws thousands into a blackout. And maybe someone can turn off the tap on the snow machine for a few weeks? Please?
*I also have to mention that average is a hard thing to use in these discussions. I assume when they say average the mean the mean which is calculated by adding however many years worth of data they are using and dividing. I would suggest a more helpful metric would be the mode which is the most common value in the data set. Of course if patterns are consistent both those values should be fairly close together.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Book 10 of 2013-- The Underground Church
One of my passions in ministry is the question "Who is God calling us to be?" (I believe we have to ask this both as individuals and as a collective community). It is my fondest hope that by the time I retire I have a clue how to answer that question. But this book helps in the search for an answer.
And I know that I have at least one sermon that will be very directly influenced
by having read this book. A sermon on the idea that we are called to be contaminants/contagion in the world (based on the parable of the yeast in Matthew). A sermon that is scheduled for the week that Presbytery will be present for worship.
I am not at all sure I agree with all of Meyers' points. But I find most of what he has to say well worth a read. In fact I am thinking that this could be a valuable resource for a book study. Hmmm, maybe that will happen....
I encourage folk to read this book. At least those who wonder where God might be calling us to go...
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Newspaper Column for December 27
What's It All About
Anyway???
Here we
are on the third day of Christmas. Did your French Hens arrive this
morning? Mine neither. Just as well, I have no room for them
anyway.
By now
the wrapping paper has been bagged and tossed, the Turkey leftovers
are stuffed in the fridge, many of us have eaten more chocolate than
we really should (but can you ever eat too much chocolate?), and
maybe we have time to sit and reflect a bit. One of my favourite
moments in Christmas television is Charlie Brown screaming “Can
ANYBODY tell me what this is all about?”, partly because I don't
think we talk about that question enough. Maybe now we can pause
and ask ourselves what all the hustle and bustle and noise of the
last month has been all about.
The
Grinch had it all figured out, or so he thought. Christmas was all
about presents and toys and food and noise. But he was wrong.
Scrooge
had it all figured out too. Christmas was a poor excuse to pick a
man's pocket every year. It was a waste of time and money. But he
was wrong.
Some in
the church have it all figured out. Christmas is about insisting
that the story is all important and factual and fighting against
Santa or “Happy Holidays” or anything that draws attention from
the baby born to a virgin and lying in a manger. Turns out they may
be wrong too.
And so I
come back to the question Charlie Brown asks; “Can anyone tell me
what Christmas is all about?”. Is it the gifts? The holiday?
Family? The story?
In the
end Christmas is sort of about all those things and yet more than
that. It is about the giving of tokens of love and affection to each
other. It is about taking time away from being “productive” to
spend with those who are important in our lives. It is about a
story, a mixture of myth and legend and faith, told in words and
songs and pictures of a special baby. But, for me, none of these
quite answer Charlie Brown's question.
What is
my answer? What does Christmas mean for me? Christmas is about
birth. Christmas is about God breaking into our lives. That is the
story we tell. That is the reason for our praise. We aren't
celebrating the birth of a child over 2000 years ago. We celebrate
the fact that here, now, as 2013 turns into 2014, something new is
being born.
We don't
find the meaning in Christmas by complaining about commercialism.
Nor do we find it in the crowds of the pre- or post-Christmas sales.
We don't find it in arguments about what “really happened” when
Jesus of Nazareth was born. We don't find it in songs about silent
nights or songs about bells jingling on a one horse sleigh.
We might
find it in the grin on the face of a loved one opening a gift. We
might find it in the peace we feel as we gather with friends and
family to hear again the story of God being with us in a new way. We
might find it in a surprising way, when suddenly we see a glimmer of
hope, a spark of light, in a place where once there was only darkness
and despair.
The
great promise and hope of Christmas is that in the midst of our
crises and troubles we hear of God breaking into our world and our
lives. We are reminded that there is a light that no shadow can
overcome. We listen for the song that brings “good news for all
people”. The birth we celebrate may come in a way and place we
don't expect, but our story reminds us that God rarely does the
expected. Still there is light, there is hope, there is joy.
What is
being born this Christmas? Where do we hear angel song? What hope
is being awoken? And how will we react?
Now that
the hustle and bustle are over the work of living Christmas hope
begins. How will you carry Christmas hope, Christmas promise,
Christmas light into the New Year?
God
Bless US, Every One. Merry Christmas, and a Blessed New Year.
Friday, November 08, 2013
What Defines Christian????
Some of you may have heard of Gretta Vosper. She is a United Church of Canada minister and author of a couple of books. She also appears to many to be an atheist (and sort of claims that for herself). She is also a bit of a pole around whom controversy swirls, because some (many?) of us are not sure that she has moved beyond Christianity and if she has we wonder if she is a good fit for a member of the Order of Ministry in a Christian denomination.
Anyway, as a result of a number of recent discussions about Gretta (as she has not entered into them) on various FB pages I made the following post in the United Church of Canada FB group:
As the one who posted the question(s) I think it is incumbent on me to try and provide my own answer....
To be a Christian is, at a base starting point, using the example of the New Testament community, to be one who proclaims "Jesus is Lord" (the earliest creedal statement).
Again using the witness of the New Testament as the base, to be a Christian is to be one who proclaims a crucified and resurrected Jesus/Christ.
To be a Christian is to be one who affirms the reality of God and that God is (somehow) active in the world.
To be a Christian is to be a follower of The Way, one who strives to live out love of God, neighbour, and self.
To be a Christian is to affirm that the life of faith needs to be lived out in community.
To be a Christian is to affirm a future hope, that which we call eschatology, for a world where the life of the Kingdom/Reign of God is made fully real in our presence.
To be a Christian is to affirm that in the writings and experiences of those who have gone before, especially the books we call Scripture, we can learn about God, about God's hope/plan for the world, and about how others have struggled with questions similar to ours, therefore we continue to read Scripture and ask where/how it intersects with our lives today.
I think that to go beyond that is to go beyond the base ground, the common denominator.
Edit to Add: While cleaning the bathrooms (because insights hit us at the oddest moments) I realized I had forgotten two statements:
To be a Christian is to proclaim that somehow in the "Christ event" (the life death and resurrection) God was doing something to bring God's creation to a state of "at-one-ness" with God in a way that had not happened before.
To be a Christian is to announce that God was revealed in the life, ministry, death and resurrection of the man we know as Jesus of Nazareth, who with the eyes of faith we also call the Christ, the Anointed One of God.
Anyway, as a result of a number of recent discussions about Gretta (as she has not entered into them) on various FB pages I made the following post in the United Church of Canada FB group:
Key to all the discussions sparked by Gretta Vosper's musings has been a simple, yet very complex, question. And it is one that I think we need to lay open for discussion so we can then talk about where the boundaries of the community are...
What does it mean to be Christian????
THe United Church of Canada is a Christian denomination. Therefore to belong to the UCCan is to be a Christian (with the only membership boundaries being those laid out in the New Testament, not signing on to any other creedal statement). THere are a wide range of opinions on the details of what it the term "Christian" means but I believe that there is a common kernel.
What is that common kernel? What is the least you can believe/say to be a member of the Christian community?
As the one who posted the question(s) I think it is incumbent on me to try and provide my own answer....
To be a Christian is, at a base starting point, using the example of the New Testament community, to be one who proclaims "Jesus is Lord" (the earliest creedal statement).
Again using the witness of the New Testament as the base, to be a Christian is to be one who proclaims a crucified and resurrected Jesus/Christ.
To be a Christian is to be one who affirms the reality of God and that God is (somehow) active in the world.
To be a Christian is to be a follower of The Way, one who strives to live out love of God, neighbour, and self.
To be a Christian is to affirm that the life of faith needs to be lived out in community.
To be a Christian is to affirm a future hope, that which we call eschatology, for a world where the life of the Kingdom/Reign of God is made fully real in our presence.
To be a Christian is to affirm that in the writings and experiences of those who have gone before, especially the books we call Scripture, we can learn about God, about God's hope/plan for the world, and about how others have struggled with questions similar to ours, therefore we continue to read Scripture and ask where/how it intersects with our lives today.
I think that to go beyond that is to go beyond the base ground, the common denominator.
Edit to Add: While cleaning the bathrooms (because insights hit us at the oddest moments) I realized I had forgotten two statements:
To be a Christian is to proclaim that somehow in the "Christ event" (the life death and resurrection) God was doing something to bring God's creation to a state of "at-one-ness" with God in a way that had not happened before.
To be a Christian is to announce that God was revealed in the life, ministry, death and resurrection of the man we know as Jesus of Nazareth, who with the eyes of faith we also call the Christ, the Anointed One of God.
Wednesday, November 06, 2013
What is Your First Memory of a God-moment?
Earlier this week this discussion prompt was posted in a Facebook Group:
It being my sincere conviction that one of the things that is missing in many of our churches is a practice of giving testimony, and also being sure that if testimony is going to happen those of us in leadership (paid and unpaid) need to step up and model that behaviour I knew I had to follow that prompt with this blogpost...
Now my theology (both theoretical and experiential) is much more Pneumocentric [Spirit-centered] than Christocentric [Christ Centered]. It always has been I realize in retrospect. So I don't really think in terms of Jesus being a companion on my life's journey. That is not my experience or understanding of God. But I do have a really clear memory of the first time I remember feeling God's presence in my life.
Palm Sunday 1984.
For a number of years it was the habit in my home congregation to have confirmation services on Palm Sunday. In the case of our confirmation class we prepared for the event with a closing retreat at a clubhouse facility in St. Albert. On the Saturday we gathered, had some program (of which I recall almost nothing except for a meal of nations that we did not only there but also at a number of Youth Group events in later years) and then "slept". I say it that way because once the leader was asleep the rest of us sat up and talked until he woke up and chased us back to bed -- after all we were all in our mid-teens.
For most of my life I have been an early waker. And so it was that Sunday. I woke before anybody else and went outside to wander around the attached playground. This playground consisted of a number of large concrete tunnels and structures. It was a misty morning and the mist around the structures in the early dawn light had a really eerie quality (potentially made more notable with 30 years of memory attached). As I wandered around the playground I sang a bit and I prayed a bit. Not formal prayers, just free-form vocal meanderings. As a young adult I would find that this was my preferred method of personal prayer.
Something special was there that morning, in the mist and the dawning light. Looking back I can safely say that the 1983-84 school year was one of the worst years of my life to this point in time (and I have no desire to have a worse one thank you very much). Every day at school was an experience in suffering (again possibly made worse with 30 years of memory). But there were 2 places I had as refuge. The church was one of those. Every Thursday evening that year we met for Confirmation discussions, and it was a safe place. That morning as I wandered and sang and prayed I knew that I was in the presence of the Holy One. And it felt good and right. I remember feeling a sense of peace that was very unusual for me in my then 15 years.
I have had that feeling many other times in the intervening years. But that was the first. And first times always stick in our memory.
What is your memory of your first time?
First memory of Jesus being a companion along your life's journey. GO!
It being my sincere conviction that one of the things that is missing in many of our churches is a practice of giving testimony, and also being sure that if testimony is going to happen those of us in leadership (paid and unpaid) need to step up and model that behaviour I knew I had to follow that prompt with this blogpost...
Now my theology (both theoretical and experiential) is much more Pneumocentric [Spirit-centered] than Christocentric [Christ Centered]. It always has been I realize in retrospect. So I don't really think in terms of Jesus being a companion on my life's journey. That is not my experience or understanding of God. But I do have a really clear memory of the first time I remember feeling God's presence in my life.
Palm Sunday 1984.
For a number of years it was the habit in my home congregation to have confirmation services on Palm Sunday. In the case of our confirmation class we prepared for the event with a closing retreat at a clubhouse facility in St. Albert. On the Saturday we gathered, had some program (of which I recall almost nothing except for a meal of nations that we did not only there but also at a number of Youth Group events in later years) and then "slept". I say it that way because once the leader was asleep the rest of us sat up and talked until he woke up and chased us back to bed -- after all we were all in our mid-teens.
For most of my life I have been an early waker. And so it was that Sunday. I woke before anybody else and went outside to wander around the attached playground. This playground consisted of a number of large concrete tunnels and structures. It was a misty morning and the mist around the structures in the early dawn light had a really eerie quality (potentially made more notable with 30 years of memory attached). As I wandered around the playground I sang a bit and I prayed a bit. Not formal prayers, just free-form vocal meanderings. As a young adult I would find that this was my preferred method of personal prayer.
Something special was there that morning, in the mist and the dawning light. Looking back I can safely say that the 1983-84 school year was one of the worst years of my life to this point in time (and I have no desire to have a worse one thank you very much). Every day at school was an experience in suffering (again possibly made worse with 30 years of memory). But there were 2 places I had as refuge. The church was one of those. Every Thursday evening that year we met for Confirmation discussions, and it was a safe place. That morning as I wandered and sang and prayed I knew that I was in the presence of the Holy One. And it felt good and right. I remember feeling a sense of peace that was very unusual for me in my then 15 years.
I have had that feeling many other times in the intervening years. But that was the first. And first times always stick in our memory.
What is your memory of your first time?
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