Called to ministry, but not in the Church

If you, like me, have been pondering the rise of the “unaffiliated” in American religious life, then here’s something to consider.  Michelle Boorstein writes in The Washington Post about the increasing number of people who graduate from seminary but do not intend to pastor a church.  According to the Association of Theological Schools, about 41 percent of master’s of divinity graduates expect to pursue full-time church ministry, down from 52 percent in 2001 and from 90-something percent a few decades ago.  It seems that skepticism about religious institutions has broadened the concept of ministry. I suspect skepticism about the value of institutions of higher education and the tracks they lay out for us also plays a part.

 “Millennials really think people my age have screwed it up,” said Shaun Casey, founder of the new urban-ministry program at Wesley, where 65 percent of graduates go on to full-time church ministry compared with 85 percent 20 years ago.

“They look at the institutional church and say, ‘I’m happy to change the world with the church’s help, but if the institutional church gets in my way or makes it harder, I’ll join [a nongovernmental organization] or nonprofit.’ There’s a fair amount of impatience with institutional bureaucracies.”

 If you have a minute, go read the article.  It’s not just about education, it’s about the future leadership of the Church and how the Church will be situated within society.  It’s about being faithful to God’s call in a changing world.

On our way to heaven

Die verschiedenen Wege nach ewigen Leben oder dem endlosen Verderben (Harrisburg: G.S. Peters, ca. 1835). Fraktur.
The Photo credit: Library Company of Philadelphia, Flickr

I came across an interesting piece of 19th century ephemera yesterday in the collection of the Library Company of Philadelphia. The German title translates roughly to “The Different Ways to Eternal Life or Endless Destruction.”  There are so many amazing details in this image: the rocky road to the New Jerusalem, the variety of people, the Whore of Babylon riding the beast into hellfire. There’s a lot of end time theology and instruction packed into this one picture.

Curiously, it reminded me of another image, the icon called The Ladder of Divine Ascent at St. Catherine’s Monastery in Sinai.

Ladder of Divine Ascent, St. Catherine’s Monastery
12th century

 

The icon represents the ascetical teachings of St. John Climacus (John of the Ladder) and shows monks attacked by demons as they climb from earth towards Jesus in heaven.  The ladder is inspired by Jacob’s dream.  At the right is a monastery where John Climacus encourages the brethren to climb.

I’m often struck by the way we absorb ideas through images. Somehow they sneak past our scrutiny and we assume we know what they mean long before we actually do. We’ve gotten better about noticing subliminal messages in advertising, but I’m not so sure how well we do with thinking about theological messages.

I’ve been looking at these and thinking about the perils of trying to live a virtuous life. Unlike the monks, the people in the German print are not being attacked but seem to make choices.  There are three paths, but only one leads to God. The first image feels more like a warning, and the second like an exhortation, but both are about the role we play in our sanctification, and if one is not thinking carefully, in our salvation. I’m not sure yet what these pictures are saying, but seeing them together gives me a handle on what questions I might ask.

Holy fellowship

There is nothing in human life better than mutual love nor anything sweeter than holy fellowship. To love and be loved is a sweet exchange, the joy of one’s whole life, the recompense of blessedness. What can be lacking in the sweetness of this good and pleasant dwelling, this place where God dwells and where he rests? ‘God is in his holy place, God, who makes those of one mind to dwell in a house’.

 

Baldwin of Forde
In the School of Love: an Anthology of Early Cistercian Texts, p. 126.
This passage translated by David N. Bell.

Mother’s Day with Johnny Cash

On May 13, 1970 Johnny Cash and his mother, Carrie Rivers Cash, performed “The Unclouded Day” on The Johnny Cash Show.  She accompanied him on piano just as she did when he sang this hymn for his first public performance at the age of 12. Cash clearly enjoyed their duet and if you listen closely as the audience applauds, you can hear him tell his mother, “That was perfect.”

 

 

Relax

I keep this on my fridge.

 

Bach’s trombones

In God’s Trombones, James Weldon Johnson names the trombone as “the instrument possessing above all others the power to express the wide and varied range of emotions encompassed by the human voice — and with greater amplitude.”

Today I found a trombone quintet reading through “Jesu, meine Freude” (Jesus, Priceless Treasure), a hymn tune composed by Jo­hann Crüger in 1653 and harmonized by J.S. Bach in 1723.  Though this is an instrumental version, I’ll include the words that are most familiar to me.  Catherine Winkworth’s translation of the original German has often been tweaked and modernized, so that now you can find quite a few variations.  I’ve always liked the reference to Psalm 42 in this one, the idea of “fell conflict” and the phrase “Lord of gladness.”
 

 

Jesus, priceless treasure,
Source of purest pleasure,
Truest friend to me;
Long my heart hath panted,
Till it well-nigh fainted,
Thirsting after Thee.
Thine I am, O spotless Lamb,
I will suffer naught to hide Thee,
Ask for naught beside Thee.

In Thine arms I rest me;
Foes who would oppress me
Cannot reach me here.
Though the earth be shaking,
Every heart be quaking,
Jesus dispels our fear;
Sin and hell in conflict fell
With their heaviest storms assail us:
Jesus will not fail us.

Hence, all thoughts of sadness!
For the Lord of gladness,
Jesus, enters in:
Those who love the Father,
Though the storms may gather,
Still have peace within;
Yea, whate’er we here must bear,
Still in Thee lies purest pleasure,
Jesus, priceless treasure!

 

 

Xristos Anesti!

Vintage Russian Easter postcard

 

Today Christians in the Orthodox Church are celebrating Easter.  Rita Wilson tells a wonderful story about her family’s Greek Orthodox traditions in this 2007 “On Faith” guest column.

So take a moment and join in this declaration:

Xristos Anesti! – Christ is Risen!”
Alithos Anesti! – Truly, He is Risen!”

 

Greek Orthodox Easter Eggs
photo credit: Arthur Etchells

The hope of the poor

 

He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.

–Proverbs 19:17

 

For the needy shall not always be forgotten,
and the hope of the poor shall not perish for ever.

–Psalm 9:18

That strange, elusive gift of faith

 

“Do not fear; only believe, and she shall be well.”  Luke 8:50b

“Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”  Luke 8:48

And Jesus asked his father, “How long has he had this?” And he said, “From childhood. And it has often cast him into the fire and into the water, to destroy him; but if you can do anything, have pity on us and help us.” And Jesus said to him, “If you can! All things are possible to him who believes.” Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!”  Mark 9:21-24

 

 

If morning doesn’t hit me full force before my first cup of coffee, I like to take a look at readings in the Daily Office. I pull it up on my phone and try to take in a little nourishment before the energy flow reverses and I get swept up in all my doing for the day.

Today’s reading was Luke 8:40-56 — the story of Jairus’ daughter and the woman who touched the fringe of Jesus’ garment and was healed. In both of these events, there is a miracle that Jesus says is related to faith–to believing.

Now, the notion that miracles are tied to our faith has occasioned a lot of thought and no small amount of confusion over the years.  I can’t say as I understand it any better than anyone else, but a few things struck me this morning.

The first is that I don’t think we can compel God to do anything.  I don’t believe there is a magic equation where if we have enough faith, then God will do what we ask or demand.  We keep trying out that hypothesis, and it just doesn’t seem to be true.  What’s more reasonable, to my mind, is that if God is omnipotent, He will do what he wants. Whatever that statement means (and I know it’s a big issue. We can talk it about later!). My point is no matter how strong our faith, we shouldn’t imagine that belief makes us powerful in any way that diminishes God’s agency. Jesus feels the power go out of him, asks “Who touched me?” and then reassures a fearful woman, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” She hasn’t somehow stolen her healing; it wasn’t something she could take by force, but she was called to give witness to the miracle.

The second thought I had, is that, truth to tell, we can’t even compel faith.  If you’ve ever tried to push aside all your questions and uncertainties about God and salvation, you know that that way leads to the Land of Denial–an unhealthy place, but one where you’ll have a lot of company.  Besides, how could you say with certainty that your faith was increasing?  Is the presence of faith measured only by the absence of doubts?  Are feelings a reliable measure?

Then I was reminded of another story of a parent bringing a child to Jesus–the boy with the convulsive spirit in Mark 9:14-29.  The disciples are unable to heal the child, and when the father says, “If you can…have pity” Jesus responds, “If I can! All things are possible to him who believes.” Which leads the father to respond, “I believe; help my unbelief!” — completely, wonderfully, articulating the way our faith is a small weak thing, often mixed with doubt, and ultimately a gift, an instance of grace. Like love, it can be nurtured or starved, it can grow or wither, but it doesn’t seem to be something we can create.

After Jesus casts out the spirit, the disciples ask him privately why they were unable to heal the boy–which says to me that faith was not the issue for them.  They believed and they knew they believed, so Jesus’ words to the father didn’t answer their question.  Jesus’ response, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer” is something I’m going to have to ponder for a while.  But you know, it’s good to have something to think about.

 

Tallit
photo via TheBibleBean.com

Ecstatic Praise: the Sound of Sacred Steel

I Feel Like Pressing My Way, Ricky Fowler and Robert Randolph on Arhoolie Records’ Train Don’t Leave Me 

 

They say that confession is good for the soul, so I have a confession: I love the sound of slide guitar.  It’s pretty serious.  Son House, Elmore James, the Allman Brothers–they all thrill me. When I first heard Robert Randolph play and began to learn about Sacred Steel, it was a gift from heaven. Really? God and that sinuous sound? In church? Oh, just take me there.

The Sacred Steel tradition comes out of the House of God, Keith Dominion church, and the Church of the Living God (Jewell Dominion). It’s praise music, it’s loud, and you don’t just sit still and listen.  Like all the best church music, it’s about giving God your whole being. And like liturgy, it’s a way to reenact the drama of the Christian story in worship and experience God’s presence.

Robert Stone has written about the development of sacred steel and directed a documentary film, produced by Arhoolie and the Documentary Arts foundation. You can view the trailer here.

Fighting the urge to go on at length, I will only give you two recordings of Sacred Steel (today), both of which I came to through Robert Randolph–an amazing pedal steel guitarist who’s played with Eric Clapton, Dave Matthews, Santana, and many others.  Randolph brought together a group of House of God musicians for the recently released Slide Brothers. I’ve never heard anyone play “Wade in the Water” like they do. Think: Deep Purple fronted by Stevie Wonder and Jimi Hendrix.

Hope you enjoy!